In regard to Narragansett Pier, Miss Lee’s opinions, the which she was
neither slow in forming nor unduly cautious in expressing, at first were
unfavorable.
“And so _this_ is ‘the Pier,’ is it?” she observed in a tone by no means
expressive of approval as she stood on the hotel veranda on the day
of her arrival, and contemplated the rather limited prospect that was
bounded at one end by the Casino and at the other by the coal-elevator.
“If those smelly little stones out there are ‘the Rocks’ that people
talk about at such a rate I must confess that I am disappointed in
them”--Mr. Port hastened to assure her that the Rocks were in quite a
different direction--“and if that is the Casino, while it seems a nice
sort of a place, I really think that they might have managed the arch so
as not to have that horrid green house showing under it. And what little
poor affairs the hotels are! Really, Uncle Hutchinson, I don’t see what
there is in this little place to make such a fuss about.”
“Dorothy,” replied Mr. Port, with much solemnity, “you evidently
forget--though I certainly have mentioned the fact to you
repeatedly--that the climate of this portion of Rhode Island is the most
distinctively antibilious climate to be found upon the whole coast of
North America. For persons possessing delicate livers--”
“Oh, bother delicate livers--at least, I beg your pardon, Uncle
Hutchinson,” for an expression of such positive pain had come into Mr.
Port’s face at this irreverent reference to an organ that he regarded as
sacred that even Dorothy was forced to make some sort of an apology. “Of
course I don’t want to bother your poor liver more than it is bothered
anyway; but, you know, I haven’t got a liver, and I don’t care for
climates a bit. What I mean is: what do people do here to have a good
time?”
“In the morning,” replied Mr. Port, “they bathe, and in the afternoon
they drive to the Point. This morning we shall bathe, Dorothy--bathing
is an admirable liver tonic--and this afternoon we shall drive to the
Point.”
“Good heavens! Is that all?” exclaimed Miss Lee. “Why, it’s worse than
Saratoga. Do you mean to say, Uncle Hutchinson, that people don’t dance
here, and don’t go yachting, and don’t have lunch-parties, and don’t
play tennis, and don’t even have afternoon teas?”
“I believe that some of these things are done here,” replied Mr. Port,
in a tone that implied that such frivolities were quite beyond the lines
of his own personal interests. “Yes,” he continued, “I am sure that
all of them are done here now--for the Pier is not what it used to be,
Dorothy. The quiet air of intense respectability that characterized
Narragansett when it was the resort only of a few of the best families
of Philadelphia has departed from it--I fear forever! But, thank Heaven,
its climatic characteristics remain intact. When you are older, Dorothy,
and your liver asserts itself, you will appreciate this incomparable
climate at its proper value.”
“Well, it hasn’t asserted itself yet, you know; and I must say I’m
devoutly thankful that something has happened to wake up the quiet and
intensely respectable Philadelphians before I had to come here. But I’m
very glad, dear Uncle Hutchinson,” Miss Lee continued, winningly, “that
this climate is so good for you, and I’m sure I hope that you won’t have
a single bilious attack all the time that you are here. And you’ll take
your angel to the dances, and to see the tennis, and you’ll give her
lunch-parties, and you’ll take her yachting, won’t you, you dear? But I
know you will; and if this were not such a very conspicuous place,
and might make a scandal, I’d give you a very sweet kiss to pay you
in advance for all the trouble that you are going to take to make
your angel enjoy herself. You needn’t bother about the teas, Uncle
Hutchinson--for the most part they’re only women, and stupid.”
Being still somewhat cast down by painful memories of that trying final
fortnight in Saratoga, during which he and his niece had pulled so
strongly in opposite directions, Mr. Port heard with a lively alarm this
declaration of a plan of campaign which, if carried out, would wreck
hopelessly his own comfort of body and peace of mind. Obviously, this
was no time for faltering. If the catastrophe was to be averted, he must
speak out at once and with a decisive energy.
“I need not tell you, Dorothy,” he began, speaking in a most grave and
earnest tone, “that it is my desire to discharge in the amplest and
kindest manner my duties towards you as a guardian--”
“I’m sure of it, and of course you needn’t tell me, you dearest
dear--and we might begin with just a little lunch to-day. The breakfast
was horrid, and I didn’t get half enough even of what there was.”
“But I must say now,” Mr. Port went on--keenly regretting the
unfortunate beginning that he had given to his declaration of
independence, but judiciously ignoring Dorothy’s shrewd perversion of
it--“that your several suggestions literally are impossibilities. I
admit that dancing for a short period, at about an hour after each meal,
is an admirable exercise that produces a most salutary effect upon the
digestive apparatus; but persistent dancing until an unduly late period
of the night is a practice as unhygienic as, in the mixed company of a
watering-place, it is socially objectionable.
“Tennis is an absurdity worthy of the vacuous minds of those who engage
in it.. To suggest that I shall sit in a cramped position in a draughty
gallery for several hours at a stretch in order to watch empty-headed
young men playing a perverted form of battledoor and shuttlecock across
a net, is to imply that they and I are upon the same intellectual level;
and this, I trust, is not the case.
“As you certainly should remember, Dorothy, all persons of a bilious
habit suffer severely from seasickness; a fact that, of course, disposes
effectually of your yachting plans. For you are not desirous, I am
sure, of purchasing your own selfish enjoyment--if you possibly can have
enjoyment on board a yacht--at the cost of my intense personal misery.
“But in regard to the lunches, my dear”--Mr. Port’s tone softened
perceptibly--“there certainly is something to be said. The food here
at the hotel, I admit, is atrocious, and at the Casino it is possible
occasionally to procure something eatable. Yes, I shall have much
pleasure in giving a lunch this very morning to my angel” (Mr. Port,
warming in advance under the genial influence of the croquette and salad
that he intended to order, became playful), “for what you said in regard
to the breakfast, Dorothy, was quite true--it was abominable. If you
will excuse me, I will just step down to the Casino now and give my
order; then things will be all ready for us when we get back from the
bath.”
And such was Miss Lee’s generalship that she rested content with her
success in one direction, and deferred until a more convenient season
her further demands. She was a reasonable young woman, and was quite
satisfied with accomplishing one thing at a time.