A Voyage of Consolation Part 4

"Nothing brownish, thank you," said momma, with decision.

"No, madam? Then perhaps you would prefer this, sir. More on the iron gray, sir."

"That would certainly be more becoming," said momma. "And I like that invisible line. But it's rather too woolly. I'm afraid it wouldn't keep its appearance. What do you think, Mamie?"

"Oh, there's no _wool_liness, madam." The gentleman's outfitter's tone implied that wool was the last thing he would care to have anything to do with. "It's the nap. And as to the appearance of these goods"--he smiled slightly--"well, we put our reputation on them, that's all. I can't say more than that. But I have the same thing in a smooth finish, if you would prefer it."

"I think I would prefer it. Wouldn't you, Mamie?"

The man brought the same thing in a smooth finish, and looked interrogatively at poppa.

"Oh, I prefer it, too," said he, with a profound a.s.sumption of intelligent interest. "Were you thinking of having the pants made of the same material, Augusta?"

The gentleman's outfitter suddenly turned his back, and stood thus for an instant struggling with something like a spasm. Knowing that if there's one thing in the world momma hates it's the exhibition of poppa's sense of humour, I walked to the door. When I came back they were measuring the Senator.

"Will you have the American shoulder, sir? Most of our customers prefer it."

"Well, no. The English shoulder would be more of a novelty on me. You see I come from the United States myself."

"Do you indeed, sir?"

The manners of some tailors might be emulated in England.

"Tails are a little longer than they were, sir, and waistcoats cut a trifle higher. Not more than half an inch in both cases, sir, but it does make a difference. Now, with reference to the coat, sir; will you have it finished with braid or not? Silk braid, of course, sir."

"Augusta?" demanded the Senator.

"Is braid _de nouveau_?" asked momma.

"Not precisely, madam, but the Prince certainly has worn it this season while he didn't last."

"Do you refer to Wales?" asked poppa.

"Yes, sir. He's very generally mentioned simply as 'The Prince.' His Royal Highness is very conservative, so to speak, about such things, so when he takes up a style we generally count on its lasting at least through one season. I can a.s.sure you, sir, the Prince has appeared in braid. You needn't be afraid to order it."

"I think," put in momma, "that braid would make a very neat finish, love."

Poppa walked slowly towards the door, considering the matter. With his hand on the k.n.o.b he turned round.

"No," he said, "I don't think that's reason enough for me. We're both men in public positions, but I've got nothing in common with Wales. I'll have a plain hem."

CHAPTER IV.

"If there's one thing I hate," said Senator Wick several times in the discussion of our plans, "it's to see a citizen of the United States going round advertising himself. If you a.n.a.lyse it, it's a mean thing to do, for it's no more a virtue to be born American than a fault to be born anything else. I'm proud of my nationality and my income is a source of satisfaction to me, but I don't intend to brandish either of them in the face of Europe."

It was this principle that had induced poppa to buy tourist tickets second cla.s.s by rail, first cla.s.s by steamer, all through, like ordinary English people on eight or nine hundred a year. Momma and I thought it rather n.o.ble of him and resolved to live up to it if possible, but when he brought forth a large packet of hotel coupons, guaranteed to produce everything, including the deepest respect of the proprietors, at ten s.h.i.+llings and sixpence a day apiece, we thought he was making an unnecessary sacrifice to the feelings of the non-American travelling public.

"Two dollars and a half a day!" momma e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Were there no more expensive ones?"

"If there had been," poppa confessed, "I would have taken them. But these were the best they had. And I understand it's a popular, sensible way of travelling. I told the young man that the one thing we wished to avoid was ostentation, and he said that these coupons would be a complete protection."

"There must be _some_ way of paying more," said momma pathetically, looking at the paper books of tickets, held together by a quant.i.ty of little holes. "Do they actually include everything?"

"Even wine, I understand, where it is the custom of the hotel to provide it without extra charge, and in Switzerland honey with your breakfast,"

the Senator responded firmly. "I never made a more interesting purchase.

There before us lie our beds, breakfasts, luncheons, dinners, lights, and attendance for the next six weeks."

"It is full of the most dramatic possibilities," I remarked, looking at the packet.

"It seems to me a kind of attempt to coerce Providence," said momma, "as much as to say, 'Whatever happens to the world, I am determined to have my bed, breakfast, luncheon, dinner, lights, and attendance for six weeks to come.' Is it not presumptuous?"

"It's very reasonable," said the Senator, "and that's the princ.i.p.al thing you've got against it, Augusta. It's remarkably, pictorially cheap." The Senator put the little books in their detachable cover, snapped the elastic round them and restored the whole to his inside pocket.

"You might almost say enjoyably cheap, if you know what I mean. The inexpensiveness of Europe," he continued, "is going to be a great charm for me. I intend to revel in it."

I am always discovering points about poppa the existence of which I had not suspected. His appreciation of the joy of small prices had been concealed in him up to this date, and I congratulated him warmly upon its appearance. I believe it is inherent in primitive tribes and in all Englishmen, but protective tariffs and other influences are rapidly eradicating it in Americans, who should be condoled with on this point, more than they usually are.

We were on our way to Paris after a miraculous escape of the Channel. So calm it was that we had almost held our breaths in our anxiety lest the wind should rise before we got over. Dieppe lay behind us, and momma at the window declared that she could hardly believe she was looking out at Normandy. Momma at the window was enjoying herself immensely in the midst of Liberty silk travelling cus.h.i.+ons, supported by her smelling-bottle, and engaged apparently in the realisation of long-cherished dreams.

"There they are in a row!" she exclaimed. "How lovely to see them standing up in that stiff, unnatural way just as they do in the pictures."

Poppa and I rushed raptly to the window, but discovered nothing remarkable.

"To see what, Augusta?" demanded he.

"The Normandy poplars, love. Aren't you awfully disappointed in them?

I am. So wooden!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: Momma was enjoying herself.]

Poppa said he didn't know that he had been relying much on the poplar feature of the scenery, and returned to his weary search for American telegrams in a London daily paper.

"Dear me," momma e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "I _never_ supposed I should see them doing it! And right along the line of the railway, too!"

"See them doing it!" I repeated, searching the landscape.

"The women working in the fields, darling love. Garnering the grain, all in that nice moderate shade of blue-electric, shouldn't you call it?

There--there's another! No, you can't see her now. France _is_ fascinating!"

Poppa abruptly folded the newspaper. "I've learnt a great deal more than I wanted to know about Madagascar," said he, "and I understand that there's a likelihood of the London voter being called to arms to prevent High Church trustees introducing candles and incense into the opening exercises of the public schools. I've read eleven different accounts of a battle in Korea, and an article on the fauna and flora of Beluchistan, very well written. And I see it's stated, on good authority, that the Queen drove out yesterday accompanied by the Princess Beatrice. I don't know that I ever got more information for two cents in my life. But for news--Great Scott! I _know_ more news than there is in that paper! The editor ought to be invited to come over and discover America."

"Here's something about America," I protested, "from Chicago, too. A whole column--'Movements of Cereals.'"

"Yes, and look at that for a nice attractive headline," responded the Senator with sarcasm. "'Movements of Cereals!' Gives you a great idea of pace, doesn't it? Why couldn't they have called it 'Grain on the Go'?"