CHAPTER II.

FOREIGN TRAVEL.

It is time to say a few words as to what my father was like.

Intensely selfish, and hating trouble, he was also extremely

sociable, jovially disposed, easily amused, and endowed with an

enviable facility for shaking off whatever was disagreeable. He

seemed to consider everything unpleasant, dull, sad, or gloomy, as

a sort of poisonous external application which must be got rid of

promptly, lest it should get absorbed into the system. Consequently

he never allowed anything to make a deeper impression on him than

he could help. And in order to escape at once from the depressing

influences of his wife's death he resolved to go abroad immediately

after the funeral, and stay away for a good long time, wandering from

place to place where his fancy took him, so as to distract his mind

from all possibility of melancholy by a complete change of scene and

life.

As he did not see the use of keeping up an establishment in England

during his absence, he determined to let Castle Manor. Then came the

question of what was to be done with me under these circumstances?

His relations assured him that the best plan would be to send me to

school somewhere till he should again be settled in his own home.

After reflecting for a day on this suggestion, he considerably

astonished those who had made it by announcing that he meant to take

me abroad with him. Such a determination was certainly surprising on

the part of one who could not endure trouble, and had no affection

for me. But the fact was that since his marriage he had got so much

accustomed to the feeling that there was some one belonging to him

always within reach, that he did not now like to live quite alone

again; and therefore he thought he might as well have me handy as a

last resource to fall back upon for company when none other should be

attainable. Wherever he went, therefore, there I went also; and for

that reason we were supposed by many people to be wholly wrapped up

in one another, and a touching example of parental and filial

attachment. I accidentally overheard some remarks to that effect made

one day by a couple of compatriots staying at the same hotel as

ourselves at Naples; and, child as I was, I remember that I laughed

cynically to think how wide of the truth they were, and what fools

people were to be so ready to judge from appearances. For though he

chose to have me living under the same roof as himself, yet he never

had any wish for my society if he could pick up any one else to talk

to, and walk, ride, drive, or make expeditions with; and as his

sociability and geniality made it easy to him to make acquaintance

and fraternise with strangers, he was not often dependent upon me

for companionship; so that I was left very much to myself, and

spent the greater part of the time in solitude, or with my attendant

who was a sort of cross between nursery-governess and maid.

We moved about from place to place for two or three years, rarely

staying long anywhere, and not once returning to England. This roving

existence had a great charm for me, notwithstanding its frequent

loneliness, and was infinitely more to my taste than would have been

the orthodox schoolroom routine that falls to the lot of most girls

between the ages of twelve and fifteen. Doubtless, too, it had a

good deal of influence on the formation of my character; for the

perpetual motion and change of scene in which I delighted could

hardly fail to foster my inborn restlessness and love of adventure,

as well as to develop whatever natural tendencies I possessed towards

self-reliance, independence, and intolerance of restraint.

Meanwhile my education, as may be supposed, pursued a somewhat

erratic course, and my standard of attainments would, I fear, have

by no means been considered satisfactory by Mrs. Grundy. A life

passed in hotels, _pensions_, and lodgings is unfavourable to regular

studies; and, besides that, there was no one, after my mother's

death, who cared sufficiently about my intellectual or moral progress

to take the trouble of insisting on lessons being persevered with,

whether I liked them or not. Consequently I learnt anything that took

my fancy, and left alone everything else. On some out-of-the-way

subjects I was better informed than the majority of my contemporaries;

but then, on the other hand, I was ignorant of much that every

schoolgirl is expected to know. My ideas, for instance, as to

religious matters were extremely vague. I was but slightly acquainted

with the contents of either the Bible or Prayer Book; never thought

of religion as a thing with which I, personally, had to do; had not

a notion of what constituted the differences between one form of

religious belief and another; and never attended any place of worship

except when some grand function was to come off. All I cared for in

such a place was to listen to the music, and stare at the lights,

vestments, decorations, ceremonial, and crowd; therefore I only went

on great festivals, or when some especially prized relic was to be

exhibited, or other unusual attraction offered; and, of course, I

became more familiar with the interior of Roman Catholic churches

and chapels than any other.

What accomplishments I possessed were such as would have qualified

me well enough for a courier, and I think that I could have earned

my livelihood in that line of business without much difficulty after

I had been abroad for a while. I could speak several languages

fluently, besides having a smattering of a few more, and of two or

three _patois_; I was well up in the relative values of foreign

coins, and capable of making a bargain even with such slippery

individuals as drivers, jobmasters, _laquais-de-place_, or boatmen.

Besides that, I was so thoroughly at home in railway stations that I

could find my way about in any hitherto-unvisited one almost by

instinct; I could usually tell, to within a few minutes, the exact

time when any _rapide_ or _grande-vitesse_ was due to start from

Paris for Spain, Germany, Italy, or the Mediterranean; when it ought

to reach its destination; and at about what hour it would be at the

more important towns on its route; and I had quite mastered the

intricacies of the _English and Foreign Bradshaw_, _Livret-Chaix_,

and works of a similarly perplexing kind, so as to be able to

discover easily whatever information they could afford. My expertness

in this way was chiefly owing to a happy thought that came into my

head at Bayonne one day when I happened to be left alone for the

afternoon with nothing to do, and no book whatever available except

a railway guide. The prospect till night was not an exhilarating one,

and I was disconsolately wondering how to get through the time, when

it suddenly occurred to me that I would play at being about to start

for St. Petersburg, or some other remote place, and obliged to look

out the best and fastest way of getting there. I set to work

accordingly with the railway guide, and became so engrossed in the

game I had invented that I forgot all about the passage of time, and

was quite astonished to find how quickly the afternoon slipped away

whilst I was settling various journeys to my satisfaction. Such an

easily-attainable means of amusement was a glorious discovery to me,

and one which I commend to the notice of other travellers as a

resource for wet weather and dull moments. Henceforth I had no dread

of lacking amusement, provided I had a time-table; and many a long

hour have I beguiled in planning skeleton tours to all kinds of

places--poring over the times of arrival and departure of trains,

diligences, steamers, and other public conveyances, and weighing in

my own mind the prices and comparative merits of various routes with

every bit as much care and attention as though the imaginary journey

under consideration were a reality, and I were the sole person

responsible to make arrangements for it. This employment had for me

something of the same sort of fascination that working out a problem

in algebra has for some people--indeed I do not think the two things

are greatly unlike each other in their natures.

Besides the accomplishments I have mentioned, I had also some ideas

as to foreign cookery, which I picked up here and there on our

travels--chiefly on the rare occasions when we were in lodgings

anywhere. I do not think I ever met any mistress of a lodging-house

abroad who did not pride herself particularly upon her cooking of

some one dish (sometimes more than that, but at least one), and who

was not willing to initiate into its mysteries any lodger who evinced

a proper appreciation of its excellence. There was an old woman at

Genoa, I remember, at whose house we stayed for some weeks, who knew

several delicious ways of dressing macaroni and vegetables, and who

not only allowed me to watch her whilst she cooked, and gave me her

favourite recipes, but even stretched her good nature so far as to

let me try my own hand in the kitchen till I could join practice to

theory, and produce a tolerably successful result for my labours. She

was a kindly, motherly old soul, who was impressed with the notion

that there was something peculiarly forlorn and provocative of pity

in my condition; she generally called me _poverina_ (to my amusement),

and took me under her protection from an early stage of our

acquaintance.

"See, _Signorina_," she said to me on the second morning of our

occupying her apartments, "you will no doubt wish to buy velvet

here--as all the English do--and many other things also. But be

guided by me, and go not to buy alone, or you will most certainly be

cheated. No! when you see the thing that you desire, come to me--take

me to where it is--point it out to me quietly. Then will I go forward

as though to buy it for myself, and so shall you procure it at a

reasonable price. You who understand not the modes of our merchants,

would pay nearly, or perhaps even altogether--for there is no saying

how far the folly of an English person may go!--the amount that they

demand for their goods. But as for me!--ah! _I_ know how to arrange

these people, and you shall see what I will do! I dare to flatter

myself that there is not a man or woman in the whole of Genoa who

can get the better of me in a bargain!"

Experience soon showed me that this was no idle vaunt. Though--to her

great disappointment--I declined to buy any velvet, yet I gladly

availed myself of her services for other purchases, and never in my

life, either before or since, have I met with any one who was her match

in bargaining. She never bought anything at a shop or stall without

having taken a final farewell and departed from it at least twice,

and then suffered herself to be brought back by the persuasions of

the owner; I think she regarded this going away and returning as

quite a necessary part of the negotiation, without which it could not

possibly come to a proper conclusion. At all events her efforts were

invariably successful, and she forced shopkeepers, market-people,

and sellers of every sort with whom she had dealings, to accept

reductions of price which seemed to me almost incredible. Meanwhile

I, in whose behalf she was exerting herself, used merely to assist

as a passive spectator, feeling that my knowledge of mankind was

being enlarged, and that I was gaining a valuable insight into the

amount of dishonesty and cunning that was latent in human beings in

general, and Italians in particular. This was especially my feeling

when, as more than once happened, I perceived that my friend herself

was not altogether exempt from the failings of her country-people;

and that, relying on my knowledge of Italian being less than it

really was, she was making a little profit at my expense out of the

transaction she was conducting for me. This was a fresh revelation

of the depravity of human nature, and impressed upon my youthful mind

the folly of trusting absolutely to any professions of friendship,

however genuine they might appear. But, after all, it was not to be

expected that she would take a great deal of trouble for a stranger

gratuitously and out of pure love; besides that, she allowed no one

except herself to cheat me, so that in the end my pocket was saved,

notwithstanding the commissions that she managed adroitly to retain

for her own benefit; and as, furthermore, I derived much instruction

from her in the art of bargaining, I saw that on the whole I was a

gainer by her help, and had nothing to complain of. So I let her act

for me as before, chuckling inwardly at her vehement denunciations

of the roguery that surrounded us, and not telling her of what I had

discovered regarding her own.

I remember but little of most of the innumerable people with whom my

father was continually making acquaintance; they seemed to me to come

and go in endless succession, having to do with us only for a few

days or hours, and then vanishing into space, with about as much

likelihood of our ever seeing them again as though we had all been so

many dead leaves whirled away by gales from opposite directions. But

there was one of these stray acquaintances who made more impression

on me than the rest, and whom I mention here because of the relations

which she and I were destined to have together in the future--little

as we then suspected it.

Kitty Mervyn, the individual in question, was a girl of about a year

older than myself, clever, vivacious, and agreeable, and promising to

be very good-looking by the time she should be seventeen. She and I

were cousins in some far-off degree, because her father, Lord Mervyn,

was a cousin many times removed of my grandfather, Lord Gilbert. The

cousinship, however, was so remote that we did not know of each

other's existence; and my father and the Mervyns had never happened

to meet until they arrived one evening at the hotel at which we

were staying at Lugano. Then the distant connection served as an

introduction between us; and as the next day was a dreary wet Sunday,

the feeling of ennui and desire to kill time that was common to us

all, led to our seeing more of one another than we should probably

have done otherwise. Kitty and I paired off together naturally, as

being nearly of the same age. As far as I can recollect, we spent

most of the day in watching and laughing at the performances of

some embryo bicyclists, who were too enthusiastic to be deterred

by either rain or frequent tumbles, and who went on grinding

perseveringly on their bicycles up and down a bit of road in sight

of our windows which was their practice-ground. We did not find it

very lively, certainly; but then there was nothing else to do, unless

we had struck up a romantic friendship and exchanged sentimental

confidences--as some girls thus situated would have done--and

neither she nor I were at all disposed for that sort of thing. Our

intercourse lasted only for that one day, as next morning the Mervyns

departed south, whilst we went to Como. But in the short time I had

been with Kitty she had somehow made a stronger impression than usual

on my unimpressionable mind, and the recollection of her lingered in

my memory longer than that of any one else whom we met. Her good

looks attracted me; her cleverness and liveliness made her very good

company. Notwithstanding an incipient haughtiness about her, which

might develop as she grew older, perhaps, she seemed at present

to have a decided capacity for being what I called jolly; and,

altogether, she had given me the idea of being remarkably likeable. I

was sorry that the chances of travel made us separate so soon, and

wondered if she was at all inclined to return the liking which I had

taken to her. But she passed out of my head after a while; and it was

only now and then that I recollected her existence, and thought how

pleasant it would be if we happened to meet again some day.

Jill, Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 2 / 16 章