Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David T. Jones and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR]
THE
YOUNG VISITERS
OR, MR SALTEENA'S PLAN
BY
DAISY ASHFORD
WITH A PREFACE BY
J. M. BARRIE
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
_Copyright_, 1919,
_By George H. Doran Company_
_Printed in the United States of America_
[Pg v]
PREFACE
The "owner of the copyright" guarantees that "The Young Visiters" is
the unaided effort in fiction of an authoress of nine years. "Effort,"
however, is an absurd word to use, as you may see by studying the
triumphant countenance of the child herself, which is here reproduced
as frontispiece to her sublime work. This is no portrait of a writer
who had to burn the oil at midnight (indeed there is documentary
evidence that she was hauled off to bed every evening at six): it has
an air of careless power; there is a complacency about it that by the
severe might perhaps be called smugness. It needed no effort for that
face to knock off a masterpiece. It probably represents precisely how
she looked when she finished a chapter. When she was actually at work
I think the expression [Pg vi] was more solemn, with the tongue firmly
clenched between the teeth; an unholy rapture showing as she drew near
her love chapter. Fellow-craftsmen will see that she is looking
forward to this chapter all the time.
The manuscript is in pencil in a stout little note book (twopence),
and there it has lain for years, for though the authoress was nine
when she wrote it she is now a grown woman. It has lain, in lavender
as it were, in the dumpy note book, waiting for a publisher to ride
that way and rescue it; and here he is at last, not a bit afraid that
to this age it may appear "Victorian." Indeed if its pictures of High
Life are accurate (as we cannot doubt, the authoress seems always so
sure of her facts) they had a way of going on in those times which is
really surprising. Even the grand historical figures were free and
easy, such as King Edward, of whom we have perhaps the most human
picture ever penned, as he appears at a levée "rather sumshiously," in
a "small [Pg vii] but costly crown," and afterwards slips away to tuck
into ices. It would seem in particular that we are oddly wrong in our
idea of the young Victorian lady as a person more shy and shrinking than
the girl of to-day. The Ethel of this story is a fascinating creature
who would have a good time wherever there were a few males, but no
longer could she voyage through life quite so jollily without
attracting the attention of the censorious. Chaperon seems to be one
of the very few good words of which our authoress had never heard.
The lady she had grown into, the "owner of the copyright" already
referred to, gives me a few particulars of this child she used to be,
and is evidently a little scared by her. We should probably all be a
little scared (though proud) if that portrait was dumped down in front
of us as ours, and we were asked to explain why we once thought so
much of ourselves as that.
Except for the smirk on her face, all I can learn of her now is that
she was one of [Pg viii] a small family who lived in the country, invented
their own games, dodged the governess and let the rest of the world go
hang. She read everything that came her way, including, as the context
amply proves, the grown-up novels of the period. "I adored writing and
used to pray for bad weather, so that I need not go out but could stay
in and write." Her mother used to have early tea in bed; sometimes
visitors came to the house, when there was talk of events in high
society: there was mention of places called Hampton Court, the Gaiety
Theatre and the "Crystale" Palace. This is almost all that is now
remembered, but it was enough for the blazing child. She sucked her
thumb for a moment (this is guesswork), and sat down to her amazing
tale.
"Her mother used to have early tea in bed." Many authors must have had
a similar experience, but they all missed the possibilities of it
until this young woman came along. It thrilled her; and tea in [Pg ix]
bed at last takes its proper place in fiction. "Mr Salteena woke
up rarther early next day and was delighted to find Horace the footman
entering with a cup of tea. Oh thank you my man said Mr Salteena
rolling over in the costly bed. Mr Clark is nearly out of the bath sir
announced Horace I will have great pleasure in turning it on for you
if such is your desire. Well yes you might said Mr Salteena seeing it
was the idear." Mr Salteena cleverly conceals his emotion, but as soon
as he is alone he rushes to Ethel's door, "I say said Mr Salteena
excitedly I have had some tea in bed."
"Sometimes visitors came to the house." Nothing much in that to us,
but how consummately this child must have studied them; if you
consider what she knew of them before the "viacle" arrived to take
them back to the station you will never dare to spend another week-end
in a house where there may be a novelist of nine years. I am sure that
when you left your bedroom this child stole in, examined everything
[Pg x] and summed you up. She was particularly curious about the articles
on your dressing-table, including the little box containing a reddish
powder, and she never desisted from watching you till she caught you
dabbing it on your cheeks. This powder, which she spells "ruge," went
a little to her head, and it accompanies Ethel on her travels with
superb effect. For instance, she is careful to put it on to be
proposed to; and again its first appearance is excused in words that
should henceforth be serviceable in every boudoir. "I shall put some
red ruge on my face said Ethel becouse I am very pale owing to the
drains in this house."
Those who read will see how the rooms in Hampton Court became the
"compartments" in the "Crystale" Palace, and how the "Gaierty" Hotel
grew out of the Gaiety Theatre, with many other agreeable changes. The
novelist will find the tale a model for his future work. How
incomparably, for instance, the authoress dives [Pg xi] into her story
at once. How cunningly throughout she keeps us on the hooks of suspense,
jumping to Mr Salteena when we are in a quiver about Ethel, and
turning to Ethel when we are quite uneasy about Mr Salteena. This
authoress of nine is flirting with her readers all the time. Her mind
is such a rich pocket that as she digs in it (her head to the side and
her tongue well out) she sends up showers of nuggets. There seldom
probably was a novelist with such an uncanny knowledge of his
characters as she has of Mr Salteena. The first line of the tale
etches him for all time: "Mr Salteena was an elderly man of 42 and
fond of asking people to stay with him." On the next page Salteena
draws a touching picture of himself in a letter accepting an
invitation: "I do hope I shall enjoy myself with you. I am fond of
digging in the garden and I am parshal to ladies if they are nice I
suppose it is my nature. I am not quite a gentleman but you would
hardly notice it but can't be helped anyhow." [Pg xii] "When the great
morning arrived Mr Salteena did not have an egg for his breakfast in
case he should be sick on the journey." For my part I love Mr Salteena,
who has a touch of Hamlet, and I wished up to the end that Ethel would
make him happy, though I never had much hope after I read the
description of Bernard Clark's legs.
It is not to be wondered at that Mr Salteena soon grew "rarther
jellous" of Bernard, who showed off from the first. "My own room is
next the bathroom said Bernard it is decerated dark red as I have
somber tastes. The bathroom has got a tip up basin." Thus was Mr
Salteena put in his place, and there the cruel authoress (with her
tongue farther out than ever) doggedly keeps him. "After dinner Ethel
played some merry tunes on the piano and Bernard responded with a
rarther loud song in a base voice and Ethel clapped him a good deal.
Then Mr Salteena asked a few riddles as he was not musicle." No wonder
Mr Salteena went gloomily to bed, not to [Pg xiii] sleep, but to think
out the greater riddle of how to become a gentleman, with which
triumphant adventure the book is largely concerned.
To many the most instructive part of the story will be the chapter
entitled "Bernard's Idear." Bernard's "idear" (warmly acclaimed by
Ethel) is that she and he should go up to London "for a few weeks
gaierty." Something of the kind has often been done in fiction and in
guide-books, but never probably in such a hearty way as here. Arrived
at the "Gaierty" Hotel Bernard pokes his head into the "window of the
pay desk. Have you a couple of bedrooms for self and young lady he
enquired in a lordly way." He is told that they have two beauties.
"Thank you said Bernard we will go up if you have no objection. None
whatever sir said the genial lady the beds are well aired and the view
quite pleasant. Come along Ethel cried Bernard this sounds alright eh.
Oh quite said Ethel with a beaming smile." He decides gallantly [Pg xiv]
that the larger room shall be hers. "I shall be quite lost in that
large bed," Ethel says. "Yes I expect you will said Bernard and now
what about a little table d'ote followed by a theatre?"
Bernard's proposal should be carried in the pocket of all future
swains. He decides "whilst imbibing his morning tea beneath the pink
silken quilt," that to propose in London would not be the "correct
idear." He springs out of bed and knocks at Ethel's door. "Are you up
my dear? he called. Well not quite said Ethel hastily jumping from her
downy nest." He explains his "idear." "Oh hurrah shouted Ethel I shall
soon be ready as I had my bath last night so won't wash very much
now."
They go up the river in a boat, and after they had eaten and "drunk
deeply of the charming viands ending up with merangs and chocklates,"
Bernard says "in a passionate voice Let us now bask under the
spreading trees. Oh yes lets said Ethel." "Ethel he murmered in a
trembly voice. [Pg xv] Oh what is it said Ethel." What it was (as well
she knew) was love eternal. Ethel accepts him, faints and is brought back
to life by a clever "idear" of Bernard's, who pours water on her. "She
soon came to and looked up with a sickly smile. Take me back to the
'Gaierty' Hotel she whispered faintly. With pleasure my darling said
Bernard I will just pack up our viands ere I unloose the boat. Ethel
felt better after a few drops of champaigne and began to tidy her hair
while Bernard packed the remains of the food. Then arm in arm they
tottered to the boat, I trust you have not got an illness my darling
murmured Bernard as he helped her in, Oh no I am very strong said
Ethel I fainted from joy she added to explain matters. Oh I see said
Bernard handing her a cushion well some people do he added kindly."
"So I will end my chapter," the authoress says; and we can picture her
doing it complacently, and slowly pulling in her tongue.
Ethel was married in the Abbey. Her [Pg xvi] wedding dress was "a rich
satin with a humped pattern of gold on the pure white and it had a long
train edged with Airum lillies." "You will indeed be a charming
spectacle my darling gasped Bernard as they left the shop," and I have
no doubt she was. She got many delightful presents, the nicest of all
being from her father, who "provided a cheque for £2 and promised to
send her a darling little baby calf when ready." This is perhaps the
prettiest touch in the story and should make us all take off our hats
to the innocent wondering mind that thought of it.
Poor Mr Salteena. He was at the wedding, dressed in black and crying
into his handkerchief. However he recovered to an extent and married
Another and had ten children, "five of each," none of them of course
equal to Ethel's children, of whom in a remarkably short time there
were seven, which the authoress evidently considers to be the right
"idear."
It seems to me to be a remarkable work [Pg xviii] for a child, remarkable
even in its length and completeness, for when children turn author they
usually stop in the middle, like the kitten when it jumps. The
pencilled MS. has been accurately reproduced, not a word added or cut
out. Each chapter being in one long paragraph, however, this has been
subdivided for the reader's comfort.
J. M. BARRIE.
[Pg xix]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
1 Quite a Young Girl 23
2 Starting Gaily 27
3 The First Evening 36
4 Mr. Salteenas Plan 41
5 The Crystal Palace 45
6 High Life 59
7 Bernards Idear 74
8 A Gay Call 79
9 A Proposale 88
10 Preparing for the Fray 95
11 The Wedding 99
12 How It Ended 102
THE YOUNG VISITERS
[Pg 23]
The Young Visiters
CHAPTER 1
QUITE A YOUNG GIRL
Mr Salteena was an elderly man of 42 and was fond of asking peaple to
stay with him. He had quite a young girl staying with him of 17 named
Ethel Monticue. Mr Salteena had dark short hair and mustache and
wiskers which were very black and twisty. He was middle sized and he
had very pale blue eyes. He had a pale brown suit but on Sundays he
had a black one and he had a topper every day as he thorght it more
becoming. Ethel Monticue had fair hair done on the top and blue eyes.
She had a blue velvit frock which had grown rarther short in the
sleeves. She had a black straw hat and kid gloves.
[Pg 24]
One morning Mr Salteena came down to brekfast and found Ethel had come
down first which was strange. Is the tea made Ethel he said rubbing
his hands. Yes said Ethel and such a quear shaped parcel has come for
you Yes indeed it was a quear shape parcel it was a hat box tied down
very tight and a letter stuffed between the string. Well well said Mr
Salteena parcels do turn quear I will read the letter first and so
saying he tore open the letter and this is what it said
My dear Alfred.
I want you to come for a stop with me so I have sent you a top hat
wraped up in tishu paper inside the box. Will you wear it staying
with me because it is very uncommon. Please bring one of your young
ladies whichever is the prettiest in the face.
I remain Yours truely
Bernard Clark.
[Pg 25]
Well said Mr Salteena I shall take you to stay Ethel and fancy him
sending me a top hat. Then Mr S. opened the box and there lay the most
splendid top hat of a lovly rich tone rarther like grapes with a
ribbon round compleat.
Well said Mr Salteena peevishly I dont know if I shall like it the bow
of the ribbon is too flighty for my age. Then he sat down and eat the
egg which Ethel had so kindly laid for him. After he had finished his
meal he got down and began to write to Bernard Clark he ran up stairs
on his fat legs and took out his blotter with a loud sniff and this is
what he wrote
My dear Bernard
Certinly I shall come and stay with you next Monday I will bring
Ethel Monticue commonly called Miss M. She is very active and
pretty. I do hope I shall enjoy myself with you. I am fond of
digging in the garden and I am parshial to ladies if [Pg 26] they
are nice I suppose it is my nature. I am not quite a gentleman but
you would hardly notice it but cant be helped anyhow. We will come
by the 3-15.
Your old and valud friend
Alfred Salteena.
Perhaps my readers will be wondering why Bernard Clark had asked Mr
Salteena to stay with him. He was a lonely man in a remote spot and he
liked peaple and partys but he did not know many. What rot muttered
Bernard Clark as he read Mr Salteenas letter. He was rarther a
presumshious man.
[Illustration: THE FIRST PAGE OF THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT]
[Pg 27]