I must admit that at this inn they did things quite nicely, doubtless
because it seemed to be almost entirely staffed by foreigners. One
would scarce have known within its walls that one had come out to
North America, nor that savage wilderness surrounded one on every
hand. Indeed I was surprised to learn that we were quite at the edge
of the rough Western frontier, for in but one night’s journey we were
to reach the American mountains to visit some people who inhabited a
camp in their dense wilds.
A bit of romantic thrill I felt in this adventure, for we should
encounter, I inferred, people of the hardy pioneer stock that has
pushed the American civilization, such as it is, ever westward. I
pictured the stalwart woodsman, axe in hand, braving the forest to
fell trees for his rustic home, while at night the red savages prowled
about to scalp any who might stray from the blazing campfire. On the
day of our landing I had read something of this--of depredations
committed by their Indians at Arizona.
From what would, I take it, be their Victoria station, we three began
our journey in one of the Pullman night coaches, the Senator of this
family having proceeded to their home settlement of Red Gap with word
that he must “look after his fences,” referring, doubtless, to those
about his cattle plantation.
As our train moved out Mrs. Effie summoned me for a serious talk
concerning the significance of our present visit; not of the
wilderness dangers to which we might be exposed, but of its social
aspects, which seemed to be of prime importance. We were to visit, I
learned, one Charles Belknap-Jackson of Boston and Red Gap, he being a
person who mattered enormously, coming from one of the very oldest
families of Boston, a port on their east coast, and a place, I
gathered, in which some decent attention is given to the matter of who
has been one’s family. A bit of a shock it was to learn that in this
rough land they had their castes and precedences. I saw I had been
right to suspect that even a crude society could not exist without its
rules for separating one’s superiors from the lower sorts. I began to
feel at once more at home and I attended the discourse of Mrs. Effie
with close attention.
The Boston person, in one of those irresponsibly romantic moments that
sometimes trap the best of us, had married far beneath him, espousing
the simple daughter of one of the crude, old-settling families of Red
Gap. Further, so inattentive to details had he been, he had neglected
to secure an ante-nuptial settlement as our own men so wisely make it
their rule to do, and was now suffering a painful embarrassment from
this folly; for the mother-in-law, controlling the rather sizable
family fortune, had harshly insisted that the pair reside in Red Gap,
permitting no more than an occasional summer visit to his native
Boston, whose inhabitants she affected not to admire.
“Of course the poor fellow suffers frightfully,” explained Mrs. Effie,
“shut off there away from all he’d been brought up to, but good has
come of it, for his presence has simply done wonders for us. Before he
came our social life was too awful for words--oh, a _mixture_!
Practically every one in town attended our dances; no one had ever
told us any better. The Bohemian set mingled freely with the very
oldest families--oh, in a way that would never be tolerated in London
society, I’m sure. And everything so crude! Why, I can remember when
no one thought of putting doilies under the finger-bowls. No tone to
it at all. For years we had no country club, if you can believe that.
And even now, in spite of the efforts of Charles and a few of us,
there are still some of the older families that are simply sloppy in
their entertaining. And promiscuous. The trouble I’ve had with the
Senator and Cousin Egbert!”
“The Flouds are an old family?” I suggested, wishing to understand
these matters deeply.
“The Flouds,” she answered impressively, “were living in Red Gap
before the spur track was ever run out to the canning factory--and I
guess you know what that means!”
“Quite so, Madam,” I suggested; and, indeed, though it puzzled me a
bit, it sounded rather tremendous, as meaning with us something like
since the battle of Hastings.
“But, as I say, Charles at once gave us a glimpse of the better
things. Thanks to him, the Bohemian set and the North Side set are now
fairly distinct. The scraps we’ve had with that Bohemian set! He has a
real genius for leadership, Charles has, but I know he often finds it
so discouraging, getting people to know their places. Even his own
mother-in-law, Mrs. Lysander John Pettengill--but you’ll see to-morrow
how impossible she is, poor old soul! I shouldn’t talk about her, I
really shouldn’t. Awfully good heart the poor old dear has, but--well,
I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell you the exact truth in plain
words--you’d find it out soon enough. She is simply a confirmed
_mixer_. The trial she’s been and is to poor Charles! Almost no
respect for any of the higher things he stands for--and temper? Well,
I’ve heard her swear at him till you’d have thought it was Jeff Tuttle
packing a green cayuse for the first time. Words? Talk about words!
And Cousin Egbert always standing in with her. He’s been another awful
trial, refusing to play tennis at the country club, or to take up
golf, or do any of those smart things, though I got him a beautiful
lot of sticks. But no: when he isn’t out in the hills, he’d rather sit
down in that back room at the Silver Dollar saloon, playing cribbage
all day with a lot of drunken loafers. But I’m so hoping that will be
changed, now that I’ve made him see there are better things in life.
Don’t you really think he’s another man?”
“To an extent, Madam, I dare say,” I replied cautiously.
“It’s chiefly what I got you for,” she went on. “And then, in a
general way you will give tone to our establishment. The moment I saw
you I knew you could be an influence for good among us. No one there
has ever had anything like you. Not even Charles. He’s tried to have
American valets, but you never can get them to understand their place.
Charles finds them so offensively familiar. They don’t seem to
realize. But of course you realize.”