Mr. Brett in the cab. But he said that I needn't be afraid; Mrs.
Stuyvesant-Knox was much too clever a woman to let anything she
wouldn't like get into the papers. She would send a paragraph to the
effect that Lady Betty Bulkeley had been suddenly called home or had
gone to visit other friends, or something of that sort. "But she will
almost certainly cable to your people," he went on.
"Yes, but she won't know where I've gone till afterwards, and anyhow,
they can't object to my being with Miss Woodburn," I answered him.
"You don't think they'll send for you to come home at once?"
I shook my head. "They won't do that. They don't want--that is, they
think it wiser for me to stop on this side longer, now I'm here."
"I'm very glad of that," said Mr. Brett and he looked at me as if he
really were glad, in spite of all the trouble I'd made him.
XIV
ABOUT THE TWENTIETH CENTURY LIMITED AND CHICAGO
The train for Chicago is perfectly wonderful, not like an ordinary,
human kind of train at all. I'm in it now, and have been writing
everything about the wedding and what happened afterwards, because I
have a whole room of my own, and I'm much too excited to sleep.
There's a bed in the room--not a hard shelf, but quite a wide, springy
bed, with electric light close by the pillow; there are walls made of
mirrors; there's a sofa, a washhand-stand, and a palm-leaf fan; there's
netting in the window so that you can have it open without getting
black; and there would be plenty of places to put my things if I'd
brought three times as many. But better than anything else, there's a
soft, sweet, brown maid who goes with the room and isn't an extra.
She's the same brown as the porters, only paler than most, and the
train wasn't ten minutes outside New York when she appeared, to ask
what she could do for me. There was nothing at the time, but she didn't
go away. She looked about for a minute, then pouncing on the palm leaf
she began to fan me, slowly and gracefully, not holding on by anything,
though the train was hurling itself through the State of New York
apparently with the speed in which light travels round the world. (I
never could remember how many times it can do the whole distance in a
minute, but whatever it is, it has the air of being a boast.)
I thanked her a good deal, and said I wouldn't trouble her any more,
though it was very nice; but she kept straight on, like a mechanical
doll, until I felt that in common humanity I ought to fan her. If
anyone in England, especially anyone in her position (only there aren't
such positions) had asked half as many questions as she did, people
would be extremely surprised and offended; but I would defy even the
crossest person to be offended with this soft brown thing. It would
have been too ungrateful not to answer her nicely when she was keeping
my flies at bay with extreme inconvenience to herself, so I admitted
that I was English, told what county I came from, how long I'd been in
the States, where I'd been staying, how I liked America, where I was
going now, and ended up by satisfying her as to my age and whether I
had a mother. I also stated that I was neither married nor engaged. The
dear creature rewarded me for all this by telling me a great deal about
herself and her relatives, and a church picnic she attended last
Sunday, where there were more young gentlemen than ladies--"which
always makes parties so nice for us girls."
"I must say that's a mighty pretty hat you've got," said she at last.
"I reckon it came from England. And my, but that _is_ a sweet waist.
I'd give my life for that waist."
If I had had a twin sister of the sweet waist with me, I couldn't have
resisted pressing it upon her, and I don't believe she would have
refused.
As soon as Mr. Brett got me nicely settled in my room, he said we
wouldn't meet again during the journey. I was sorry and wanted to know
why, so he explained that his ticket was different from mine. I hope
that is the only reason, really, and that it isn't because he thinks he
ought not to be travelling with me. I suppose he is going second class.
I did miss him at dinner, which I had in a grand restaurant car, about
half a mile away from me in the train. It was fun being there, seeing
all the people, and being served by fascinating black waiters, but it
would have been more fun with him. I longed to exclaim to Mr. Brett
about the glorious sunset which marched with us along the Hudson River
for an enchanted hour, and I couldn't half enjoy it for wondering every
minute, as it changed from one beauty to another, whether he were
watching too.
We have tenderly radiant sunsets at home, which I love; but they're not
startlingly magnificent as in America, where all things--even cloud
effects--are managed on such a sensational scale. I saw some skies to
remember, in Newport, though never one like this; but perhaps the
magical charm of it was partly dependent on the gleaming river.
When the daylight blue had faded, there was a kind of dusky lull. Then,
as if flames leaped up out of the clear water, river and mountains and
sky ran gold, reddening slowly till the colour burned deep and vivid as
the heart of a rose. From crimson was born violet, soft blue-violet
that hung like a robe over the mountains, while the living azure of the
river was slashed with silver; and as one gazed and gazed, afraid to
turn away, there broke a sudden flood of amethyst light out of the
floating haze. It was dazzling for a moment, but before one realised
the change the brilliance had been drunk up by purple shadows. The
outline of trees and foot-hills melted into the pansy gloom, and at
last, with one dying quiver of light all warmth of colour was blotted
out. Water and sky paled to a pensive grey-blue, and as the French say,
"it made night."
There was a tremendous menu for dinner, such as we used to have for
breakfast on shipboard, and droves of things whose names I'd never
heard before. Just for curiosity, I ordered several of the strangest,
and some of them were a great success. For instance, there was
"succotash," which sounds as if it might be a guttural insult flung at
the mouth of one Red Indian Brave by another; but when it was
(figuratively speaking) flung at mine by a black waiter, it turned out
to be something more in the nature of a compliment. It looked like
beryls mixed with pearls, though it was really only green beans stirred
up with American corn; and the two got on so well together you felt
they had been born for each other.
It's now about two o'clock in the morning, and it seems as if we must
have raced across half America, but we have a long, long way to go
still, so says the soft brown thing, who looked in on me about an hour
ago to ask in a casual way whether, if she should go to Europe to live,
she might not be taken for an Italian?
When I was a little girl, and my nurse used to make up tales to put me
to sleep at night, I would sometimes get impatient and tell her to "go
down into the story and find out what happened next." Just now, I feel
as if that is what I should like to do in my future.
XV
ABOUT SEEING CHICAGO
The first face I saw on the platform when we arrived in Chicago was Mr.
Brett's. He was waiting to help me, and looked as fresh as if he hadn't
spent eighteen hours in the train. He said I looked fresh, too; but if
I did it must have been excitement, as I'd written half the night and
dreamed desperately the other half, about Potter Parker--dressed like
one of those Red Indians they have for cigar signs in New
York--pursuing me with a jewelled tomahawk.
Mr. Brett had insisted on my telegraphing to Sally before we left New
York, to say I was coming, and asking her to meet the train, therefore,
we were surprised not to find her at the station. I was rather anxious,
and so I could see was Mr. Brett. He thought he had better not drive in
a cab with me to the friend's house where she was staying, but he told
me the name of a hotel where he would go at once, and made me promise
that I would send him a line by the cabman to say whether everything
was well with me.
"Miss Woodburn probably has a headache, or perhaps is out of town for
the day," said he. "It can't be anything else; still, I shall be a
little uneasy till I hear. And you know I hold myself absolutely at
your service."
"What about your friend whose business you've come to attend to?" I
asked. "I mustn't be so selfish as to interfere with that, whatever
happens."
"Oh, I can attend to both interests," he assured me, "without
neglecting either. I shan't need to let one interfere with the other.
And remember, I won't stir out of my hotel till I've had your note."
Bereft of him, Chicago overawed me, and took my breath away. It is a
good thing I saw New York first, for if I'd come straight from England
with only memories of peaceful London to support me through the ordeal,
I don't know but it might have affected my brain.
For one thing, there was a high wind which seemed to have a fancy for
making off with your hat. It was an exciting sort of wind, too, which
played with your nerves; but whether it was that, or whether something
extraordinary was happening just out of sight round the corner of
nearly every street we passed, and all the people we saw were tearing
like mad to the spot, I don't know, but anyhow they seemed a good deal
agitated, and there were more varieties of startling street noises even
than in New York. The cable cars were like live, untamed things that
scorned to wait the convenience of wretched little human beings. Such
women and girls as had performed the feat of clambering on board didn't
dream for a moment that the creatures might be induced to stop and let
them get down. They simply hurled themselves off as they could, and my
heart was in my mouth for them, and for myself, many times while my cab
mingled with the surging and apparently uncontrolled traffic.
It was a long drive, though, and as I had time to calm down I saw that
numbers of the huge buildings are nobly designed, and very magnificent
in decoration, making a splendid effect in spite of their vast size
rather than because of it. And such shops, too! They're like the fairy
palaces my nurse used to tell me about, as big as whole cities, where
you could get anything you wanted just by wishing.
On the way, I made up my mind to ask Sally a number of questions; why
they have the curbstones so high in Chicago; why the women, though
dressed much the same as in New York, look quite different and have a
style of their own, even in their walk; why almost all the men are
young; and why, though there is such a network of trams, nearly
everybody seems to need a motor car?
I think American girls must be braver than English ones, for where with
us, if a girl drives a motor she is so remarkable that her picture is
at once put in a newspaper, in the States a girl in a car, in the midst
of howling traffic, doesn't even have the air of wanting to scream or
faint, but just sits straight up and smiles with her figure looking
inexpressibly French; and there are two or three of her in every
important street.
There was a wonderful swinging bridge which we had to wait for until it
chose to come to us, like the mountain to Mahomet, and presently we
trotted into a beautiful Avenue near a startlingly unexpected blue sea
which I thought must be a mirage, till the cabman said it was Lake
Michigan. But who would have thought of a lake being like that? The
only ones I ever saw were pretty little things in parks where you fed
swans.
At last we stopped before a large, handsome house, with a lawn round it
and no fence. The house was stone in front, but had brick sides which
gave it a queer effect, yet somehow didn't spoil it; and wherever there
wasn't a porch, it had broken out in bow windows.
I told the cabman to wait, and then ran up the four or five steps to
ring the front door bell. In a minute a maid came who would have been
very smart-looking if she had only worn a proper cap.
"Is Miss Woodburn stopping here?" I asked.
"No, she isn't," returned the young woman with a glint of the eye which
seemed to say, she would perish sooner than call anyone "Miss," and I
shouldn't wonder if she would have felled me to the earth rather than
give me a "ladyship" had it been required of her.
"Are you _sure_?" I persisted, my heart preparing for a plunge
bootward.
"I guess so," said the girl with a superior but not ill-natured smile.
"She _was_ staying with us, but she went day before yesterday. I don't
think she'll be back, because she's gone to take care of a friend who's
real sick, way back in Ohio somewhere."
"Way back in Ohio somewhere!" The words were like a knell for all my
hopes. I didn't know what was to become of me now.
"I am sorry," I said. "Do you know if a telegram came for Miss Woodburn
yesterday?"
"Yesindeed," replied the young woman, all in one word, but her face
brightened. Suddenly she was looking at me like a long-lost friend. "I
guess you're expected. Mrs. Hale, that's the lady of the house here,
sent the telegram on, and Miss Woodburn telegraphed back about you.
Mrs. Hale went to meet your train, but maybe she didn't recognise you
or else she got caught at the bridge. Anyhow she hasn't come back yet.
I guess you'd better come in. Your room is all ready for you."
"My room?" I stammered.
"Why--yes, of course. Mrs. Hale expects you to stay with us till you're
good and ready to go somewhere else. You'll like her. She's a nice
lady, if I do say it myself."
"She's too kind," I exclaimed. "I never heard of such kindness to a
stranger."
"Oh, maybe you haven't been in America long," said the kind lady's
servant. "I guess it would be just the same in most any house over
here. You come right in, and I'll take you up to your room."
I hadn't thought at first I could like that girl so much, but my heart
warmed to her and her mistress, and everything that was hers. Only I
couldn't stay. I would have to move on somewhere, like the poor tramps
in the Park at home.
"I can't do that, though I'm very grateful indeed to Mrs. Hale," I
said. "I--I have other plans. I'll just scribble a little note to tell
her so, and thank her, then I must go."
"She'll just never forgive me if I let you," protested the young woman.
I began to be a little afraid that I might be detained by well-meant
force; but when I had written a letter to Mrs. Hale, (squeezing Vivace
under one arm and sitting at a desk in a bright, charming drawing-room
where three Persian cats, six Japanese spaniels and a number of birds
played about the floor) I contrived to persuade the hospitable creature
that my immediate departure was practically a matter of life or death.
Then I threaded my way out of the drawing-room without squashing any of
the little tropical, flowerlike things that hopped about and--according
to the maid--were worth more than their weight in gold.
I knew I should have loved Mrs. Hale, for her own sake and Sally's and
the happy family's in the drawing-room, but I felt I must vanish before
she came home, or I should be saddled upon her, and she would feel
bound to keep me indefinitely, till Sally returned or I was sent for
like a missing parcel by my own people.
So instead of writing my news to Mr. Brett, I went back with it to him,
like a bad penny. He must have been surprised when he heard that a lady
was waiting in the drawing-room of his hotel, and hurried in to see me
sitting there. I should have felt ready to die if he had looked bored,
but he didn't a bit.
I told him all my adventures, and about the dogs and cats and birds,
and then I asked what on earth I should do now. "I suppose I shall have
to go back to New York," I said gloomily, "and cable to my brother. I
could stop at some _pension_ and wait till I heard--a quiet _pension_,
Mrs. Stuyvesant-Knox wouldn't be likely to know about."
"You alone in a New York boarding house!" exclaimed Mr. Brett. "Never."
"Then could you find me a Chicago one?"
"There'd be nothing to choose between. No, Lady Betty, but I can
suggest something better. Only--I don't know how you'll take it.
Wouldn't you rather be near Miss Woodburn than anything else, until
your future plans are settled?"
"Of course," said I, "but that's impossible now."
"I'm not so sure. I think--in fact I know, where she is. You say Mrs.
Hale's maid told you she'd gone to Ohio, to take care of a sick friend.
I can tell you where that friend lives, and her name, because I have
relatives in the neighbourhood. I don't often go there, but I've heard
from them of Miss Woodburn's visits. My cousins have a farm; and I was
wondering whether you could content yourself boarding with them for
awhile, so near Miss Woodburn you could see her every day?"
"Oh, I should love it," I cried. "But would they have me?"
"They would be happy to have you, I know. The only question is, would
_you_ be happy? They're simple folk, with simple ways, such as you
would expect of my people, Lady Betty; but they've hearts of gold."
"Like yours," I thought; but I didn't say it. I said instead that I was
fond of simple ways. And I asked where the place was, and if it was far
off?
"It will take us about twelve hours to get there," he answered.
"Us?" I echoed. "Why, you can't----"
"I can if you'll let me," said, he, growing red. "I've finished my
business in Chicago, already, and----"
"What, while I was away?"
"It was a short affair, though important."
"But I thought you weren't going to leave the hotel till I wrote?"
"I didn't need to. My friend came to me, and we fixed up everything
between us in a few minutes. Now, I'm free again; and my idea in any
case was to drop in on my Ohio cousins. You see, twelve hours'
travelling is nothing to us Americans, and they wouldn't like it if I
didn't just say 'how do you do,' when I'm so near."
"Oh, well, if that's really true, and you aren't doing it only to help
me," said I, with a sigh of relief. "I was afraid you were. I shouldn't
mind the journey a bit if you were with me; but I do hope we'll have
the same kind of ticket this time. Do get mine like yours, won't you?"
His eyes had a beautiful expression in them as he thanked me, and said
he would do the best he could; only I couldn't exactly make it out. I
hoped it wasn't pity, but I'm afraid it may have been, as I must have
seemed rather forlorn, depending so entirely upon him.
"The best train to take would be this evening," he went on. "That would
give my cousins, Mr. and Mrs. Trowbridge, plenty of time to get ready
for you too, for I'll wire them that you're coming. But how could you
pass the day? Would you--let me show you the sights of Chicago?"
"_Would_ I? It would be the best of fun. Oh, I _am_ glad I came, after
all."
"Then that's settled. I'll send off that telegram and one or two
others, and come back with an automobile. Don't look like that, please,
Lady Betty. It isn't going to cost me all I've got to hire one. They're
cheap here; besides I know a man who will give me one for the day, for
next to nothing. And I'll bring you one of those silk things with talc
windows to wear over your head and face, so no one will see that Lady
Betty Bulkeley is 'doing' Chicago to-day."
"I don't know a soul here," said I. "And anyway I wouldn't be ashamed.
I shall be doing no wrong."
"Of course not, or I hope I wouldn't have proposed it," said Mr. Brett.
Then he went away, and in about half an hour he was back with the
promised motor hood and a dust coat, both of which he said were thrown
in with the car for anyone who hired it, if desired.
I was as pleased as Punch. As Caro Pitchley said when she was engaged,
I felt I was "going to have _the_ time of my life." And it _was_ fun. I
shall never forget that day of mine in Chicago with Mr. Brett, if I
live to be a hundred.
The only sight I did not want to see was the poor pigs walking into a
trough wagging their tails and coming out of another one eventually as
a string of sausages or something. But we didn't miss any of the other
sights, and there were enough to last us from morning till evening
without stopping once. We bowled along wide boulevards, and saw Lincoln
Park, and the Midway and Jackson Park. We had things to eat on the lake
shore near a pier, and afterwards we had ice cream in the old German
Building of the World's Fair. There were some beautiful lagoons, and
Mr. Brett rowed me about in a boat. I should have liked to stop there
for hours, but there were too many other things to do. We had to see
Sans Souci, a sort of Chicago Coney Island, which was a tremendous
lark, with Helter Skelters, and Air Ships, and a Laughing Gallery and a
trip to Hades. I wouldn't miss anything, and Mr. Brett must have found
me a handful, I'm afraid, though I do think he enjoyed it almost as
much as I did. Usually he is rather grave, but before half the day was
gone he was like a boy. We talked together as if we had been friends
for years and told each other anecdotes of our past lives. He didn't
care about talking of himself, but I made him by asking questions, and
refusing to tell things about myself unless he would. I found it a
great deal more interesting to listen to such stories than to hear
about the history of Chicago, and he has had the most extraordinarily
interesting life. His mother died when he was a little boy, and he had
a horrid stepmother who was so cruel that he ran away from home and had
all sorts of adventures at the age when the boys I know at home would
be just beginning to look forward to Eton. I had to draw the details
from him, and I felt so sorry for all the poor fellow had gone through
that I longed with my whole heart to do something to make up to him for
his past hardships. But I haven't thought of anything yet that a girl
could do, which would be really useful.
The best fun of all was the Chinese restaurant where we had dinner.
It's in a queer street where there are some famous pawn shops, it
seems, and I wanted to go into them, but Mr. Brett wouldn't take me. To
get to the restaurant you go up a long flight of marble stairs, with
two grinning Chinese devil-heads, like watch dogs, on the wall at the
top.
Nothing could be more modern and Western than the Chicago surging and
roaring outside. But as you pass the guardian devils and cross the
threshold of that restaurant you turn your back on the present and find
yourself in the Far East. I liked it better than Mrs. Ess Kay's
gorgeous Aladdin's Cave, for there's nothing imitation or stagey about
this place. There's real lacquer, and real silver and gold on the
strange partitions; real Chinese mural paintings; real Chinese lamps
swinging from the ceilings; real ebony stools to sit on at the inlaid
octagon tables, and real ebony chopsticks to eat with if you choose,
instead of commonplace knives and forks.
Of course we did choose; I would be ashamed to bow to myself in the
looking glass if we hadn't; and we pretended that we were making an
actual tour in China as we ate strange yet delicious food such as my
wildest imagination could not have conjured. I was a great princess,
and Mr. Brett was my Chief Grand Marshal. He wanted to be my courier,
but I wouldn't have him for anything so ignominious. I reminded him
that I had counselled ambition, and I gave him for a decoration a
little steel and paste button which just then came off my grey bolero
where it didn't show much. He immediately pinned it under the lapel of
his coat, and looked suddenly quite solemn as he said he would keep it
always.
We had Bird's Nest Bud-ball Yet-bean War; and Shark's Fin, Loung-fong
Chea; and Duck, Gold-silver Tone Arp; eggs with Shrimp Yook; cake
called Rose Sue; and Ting Moy, which was a Canton preserve; and various
other things that I picked out from the names Mr. Brett read me from
the funny yellow menu card. Afterwards we had Head-loo-hom tea in
beautiful little cups without handles, much prettier than those which
Mother keeps in a cabinet in the room that smells of camphor from
Mohunsleigh's polar bear. I was horrified when the bill came, to see
that it was about half a yard long, and that Mr. Brett had to pay with
a number of expensive-looking greenback things, but he laughed when he
saw my frightened face, and said the dinner didn't really cost all
that, he only wanted change. I begged him to let me go halves with
everything, as I'd invited myself, in a way, but he told me I didn't
understand American customs yet, and asked if I had the heart to spoil
the happiest day of his life?
I couldn't resist telling him it was the happiest of mine, too--that I
had never amused myself half as well.
"Not even in Newport?" said he.
"Not even in Newport," I repeated. "It was delightful there, and
everybody was kind and charming to me, but--you see I had no _real_
friends, like you, to go about with; and that makes the greatest
difference, doesn't it?"