Miss Cayley's Adventures

by Grant Allen

  I

  THE ADVENTURE OF THE CANTANKEROUS OLD LADY

  On the day when I found myself with twopence in my pocket, I naturallymade up my mind to go round the world.

  It was my stepfather's death that drove me to it. I had never seen mystepfather. Indeed, I never even thought of him as anything more thanColonel Watts-Morgan. I owed him nothing, except my poverty. He marriedmy dear mother when I was a girl at school in Switzerland; and heproceeded to spend her little fortune, left at her sole disposal by myfather's will, in paying his gambling debts. After that, he carried mydear mother off to Burma; and when he and the climate between them hadsucceeded in killing her, he made up for his appropriations at thecheapest rate by allowing me just enough to send me to Girton. So, whenthe Colonel died, in the year I was leaving college, I did not think itnecessary to go into mourning for him. Especially as he chose theprecise moment when my allowance was due, and bequeathed me nothing buthis consolidated liabilities.

  'Of course you will teach,' said Elsie Petheridge, when I explained myaffairs to her. 'There is a good demand just now for high-schoolteachers.'

  I looked at her, aghast. '_Teach!_ Elsie,' I cried. (I had come up totown to settle her in at her unfurnished lodgings.) 'Did you say_teach_? That's just like you dear good schoolmistresses! You go toCambridge, and get examined till the heart and life have been examinedout of you; then you say to yourselves at the end of it all, "Let mesee; what am I good for now? I'm just about fit to go away and examineother people!" That's what our Principal would call "a viciouscircle"--if one could ever admit there was anything vicious at all about_you_, dear. No, Elsie, I do _not_ propose to teach. Nature did not cutme out for a high-school teacher. I couldn't swallow a poker if I triedfor weeks. Pokers don't agree with me. Between ourselves, I am a bit ofa rebel.'

  'You are, Brownie,' she answered, pausing in her papering, with hersleeves rolled up--they called me 'Brownie,' partly because of my darkcomplexion, but partly because they could never understand me. 'We allknew that long ago.'

  I laid down the paste-brush and mused.

  'Do you remember, Elsie,' I said, staring hard at the paper-board,' whenI first went to Girton, how all you girls wore your hair quite straight,in neat smooth coils, plaited up at the back about the size of apancake; and how of a sudden I burst in upon you, like a tropicalhurricane, and demoralised you; and how, after three days of me, some ofthe dear innocents began with awe to cut themselves artless fringes,while others went out in fear and trembling and surreptitiouslypurchased a pair of curling-tongs? I was a bomb-shell in your midst inthose days; why, you yourself were almost afraid at first to speak tome.'

  'You see, you had a bicycle,' Elsie put in, smoothing the half-paperedwall; 'and in those days, of course, ladies didn't bicycle. You mustadmit, Brownie, dear, it _was_ a startling innovation. You terrified usso. And yet, after all, there isn't much harm in you.'

  'I hope not,' I said devoutly. 'I was before my time, that was all; atpresent, even a curate's wife may blamelessly bicycle.'

  'But if you don't teach,' Elsie went on, gazing at me with thosewondering big blue eyes of hers, 'whatever will you do, Brownie?' Herhorizon was bounded by the scholastic circle.

  'I haven't the faintest idea,' I answered, continuing to paste. 'Only,as I can't trespass upon your elegant hospitality for life, whatever Imean to do, I must begin doing this morning, when we've finished thepapering. I couldn't teach' (teaching, like mauve, is the refuge of theincompetent); 'and I don't, if possible, want to sell bonnets.'

  'As a milliner's girl?' Elsie asked, with a face of red horror.

  'As a milliner's girl; why not? 'Tis an honest calling. Earls' daughtersdo it now. But you needn't look so shocked. I tell you, just at present,I am not contemplating it.'

  'Then what _do_ you contemplate?'

  I paused and reflected. 'I am here in London,' I answered, gazing raptat the ceiling; 'London, whose streets are paved with gold--though it_looks_ at first sight like muddy flagstones; London, the greatest andrichest city in the world, where an adventurous soul ought surely tofind some loophole for an adventure. (That piece is hung crooked, dear;we shall have to take it down again.) I devise a Plan, therefore. Isubmit myself to fate; or, if you prefer it, I leave my future in thehands of Providence. I shall stroll out this morning, as soon as I've"cleaned myself," and embrace the first stray enterprise that offers.Our Bagdad teems with enchanted carpets. Let one but float my way, and,hi, presto, I seize it. I go where glory or a modest competence waitsme. I snatch at the first offer, the first hint of an opening.'

  Elsie stared at me, more aghast and more puzzled than ever. 'But, how?'she asked. 'Where? When? You _are_ so strange! What will you do to findone?'

  'Put on my hat and walk out,' I answered. 'Nothing could be simpler.This city bursts with enterprises and surprises. Strangers from east andwest hurry through it in all directions. Omnibuses traverse it from endto end--even, I am told, to Islington and Putney; within, folk sit faceto face who never saw one another before in their lives, and who maynever see one another again, or, on the contrary, may pass the rest oftheir days together.'

  I had a lovely harangue all pat in my head, in much the same strain, onthe infinite possibilities of entertaining angels unawares, in cabs, onthe Underground, in the aerated bread shops; but Elsie's widening eyesof horror pulled me up short like a hansom in Piccadilly when theinexorable upturned hand of the policeman checks it. 'Oh, Brownie,' shecried, drawing back, 'you _don't_ mean to tell me you're going to askthe first young man you meet in an omnibus to marry you?'

  I AM GOING OUT, SIMPLY IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURE.]

  I shrieked with laughter, 'Elsie,' I cried, kissing her dear yellowlittle head, 'you are _impayable_. You never will learn what I mean. Youdon't understand the language. No, no; I am going out, simply in searchof adventure. What adventure may come, I have not at this moment thefaintest conception. The fun lies in the search, the uncertainty, thetoss-up of it. What is the good of being penniless--with the triflingexception of twopence--unless you are prepared to accept your positionin the spirit of a masked ball at Covent Garden?'

  'I have never been to one,' Elsie put in.

  'Gracious heavens, neither have I! What on earth do you take me for? ButI mean to see where fate will lead me.'

  'I may go with you?' Elsie pleaded.

  'Certainly _not_, my child,' I answered--she was three years older thanI, so I had the right to patronise her. 'That would spoil all. Your dearlittle face would be quite enough to scare away a timid adventure.' Sheknew what I meant. It was gentle and pensive, but it lacked initiative.

  So, when we had finished that wall, I popped on my best hat, and poppedout by myself into Kensington Gardens.

  I am told I ought to have been terribly alarmed at the straits in whichI found myself--a girl of twenty-one, alone in the world, and onlytwopence short of penniless, without a friend to protect, a relation tocounsel her. (I don't count Aunt Susan, who lurked in ladylike indigenceat Blackheath, and whose counsel, like her tracts, was given away tooprofusely to everybody to allow of one's placing any very high valueupon it.) But, as a matter of fact, I must admit I was not in the leastalarmed. Nature had endowed me with a profusion of crisp black hair, andplenty of high spirits. If my eyes had been like Elsie's--that liquidblue which looks out upon life with mingled pity and amazement--I mighthave felt as a girl ought to feel under such conditions; but havinglarge dark eyes, with a bit of a twinkle in them, and being as well ableto pilot a bicycle as any girl of my acquaintance, I have inherited oracquired an outlook on the world which distinctly leans rather towardscheeriness than despondency. I croak with difficulty. So I accepted myplight as an amusing experience, affording full scope for the congenialexercise of courage and ingenuity.

  How boundless are the opportunities of Kensington Gardens--the RoundPond, the winding Serpentine, the mysterious seclusion of the Dutchbrick Palace! Genii swarm there. One jostles possibilities. It is a landof romance, bounded on the north
by the Abyss of Bayswater, and on thesouth by the Amphitheatre of the Albert Hall. But for a centre ofadventure I choose the Long Walk; it beckoned me somewhat as theNorth-West Passage beckoned my seafaring ancestors--the buccaneeringmariners of Elizabethan Devon. I sat down on a chair at the foot of anold elm with a poetic hollow, prosaically filled by a utilitarian plateof galvanised iron. Two ancient ladies were seated on the other sidealready--very grand-looking dames, with the haughty and exclusiveugliness of the English aristocracy in its later stages. For frankhideousness, commend me to the noble dowager. They were talkingconfidentially as I sat down; the trifling episode of my approach didnot suffice to stem the full stream of their conversation. The greatignore the intrusion of their inferiors.

  OUI, MADAME; MERCI BEAUCOUP, MADAME.]

  'Yes, it's a terrible nuisance,' the eldest and ugliest of the twoobserved--she was a high-born lady, with a distinctly cantankerous castof countenance. She had a Roman nose, and her skin was wrinkled like awilted apple; she wore coffee-coloured point-lace in her bonnet, with acomplexion to match. 'But what could I do, my dear? I simply _couldn't_put up with such insolence. So I looked her straight back in theface--oh, she quailed, I can tell you; and I said to her, in my iciestvoice--you know how icy I can be when occasion demands it'--the secondold lady nodded an ungrudging assent, as if perfectly prepared to admither friend's rare gift of iciness--'I said to her, "Celestine, you cantake your month's wages, and half an hour to get out of this house." Andshe dropped me a deep reverence, and she answered: "_Oui, madame; mercibeaucoup, madame; je ne desire pas mieux, madame._" And out sheflounced. So there was the end of it.'

  'Still, you go to Schlangenbad on Monday?'

  'That's the point. On Monday. If it weren't for the journey, I shouldhave been glad enough to be rid of the minx. I'm glad as it is, indeed;for a more insolent, upstanding, independent, answer-you-back-againyoung woman, with a sneer of her own, _I_ never saw, Amelia--but I_must_ get to Schlangenbad. Now, there the difficulty comes in. On theone hand, if I engage a maid in London, I have the choice of two evils.Either I must take a trapesing English girl--and I know by experiencethat an English girl on the Continent is a vast deal worse than no maidat all: _you_ have to wait upon _her_, instead of her waiting upon you;she gets seasick on the crossing, and when she reaches France orGermany, she hates the meals, and she detests the hotel servants, andshe can't speak the language, so that she's always calling you in tointerpret for her in her private differences with the _fille-de-chambre_and the landlord; or else I must pick up a French maid in London, and Iknow equally by experience that the French maids one engages in Londonare invariably dishonest--more dishonest than the rest even; they'vecome here because they have no character to speak of elsewhere, and theythink you aren't likely to write and enquire of their last mistress inToulouse or St. Petersburg. Then, again, on the other hand, I can't waitto get a Gretchen, an unsophisticated little Gretchen of the Taunus atSchlangenbad-- I suppose there _are_ unsophisticated girls in Germanystill--made in Germany--they don't make 'em any longer in England, I'msure--like everything else, the trade in rustic innocence has beendriven from the country. I can't wait to get a Gretchen, as I shouldlike to do, of course, because I simply _daren't_ undertake to cross theChannel alone and go all that long journey by Ostend or Calais, Brusselsand Cologne, to Schlangenbad.'

  'You could get a temporary maid,' her friend suggested, in a lull of thetornado.

  The Cantankerous Old Lady flared up. 'Yes, and have my jewel-casestolen! Or find she was an English girl without one word of German. Ornurse her on the boat when I want to give my undivided attention to myown misfortunes. No, Amelia, I call it positively unkind of you tosuggest such a thing. You're _so_ unsympathetic! I put my foot downthere. I will _not_ take any temporary person.'

  I saw my chance. This was a delightful idea. Why not start forSchlangenbad with the Cantankerous Old Lady?

  Of course, I had not the slightest intention of taking a lady's-maid'splace for a permanency. Nor even, if it comes to that, as a passingexpedient. But _if_ I wanted to go round the world, how could I dobetter than set out by the Rhine country? The Rhine leads you on to theDanube, the Danube to the Black Sea, the Black Sea to Asia; and so, byway of India, China, and Japan, you reach the Pacific and San Francisco;whence one returns quite easily by New York and the White Star Liners. Ibegan to feel like a globe-trotter already; the Cantankerous Old Ladywas the thin end of the wedge--the first rung of the ladder! I proceededto put my foot on it.

  EXCUSE ME, I SAID, BUT I THINK I SEE A WAY OUT OF YOURDIFFICULTY.]

  I leaned around the corner of the tree and spoke. 'Excuse me,' I said,in my suavest voice, 'but I think I see a way out of your difficulty.'

  My first impression was that the Cantankerous Old Lady would go off in afit of apoplexy. She grew purple in the face with indignation andastonishment, that a casual outsider should venture to address her; somuch so, indeed, that for a second I almost regretted my well-meantinterposition. Then she scanned me up and down, as if I were a girl in amantle shop, and she contemplated buying either me or the mantle. Atlast, catching my eye, she thought better of it, and burst out laughing.

  'What do you mean by this eavesdropping?' she asked.

  I flushed up in turn. 'This is a public place,' I replied, with dignity;'and you spoke in a tone which was hardly designed for the strictestprivacy. If you don't wish to be overheard, you oughtn't to shout.Besides, I desired to do you a service.'

  The Cantankerous Old Lady regarded me once more from head to foot. I didnot quail. Then she turned to her companion. 'The girl has spirit,' sheremarked, in an encouraging tone, as if she were discussing some absentperson. 'Upon my word, Amelia, I rather like the look of her. Well, mygood woman, what do you want to suggest to me?'

  'Merely this,' I replied, bridling up and crushing her. 'I am a Girtongirl, an officer's daughter, no more a good woman than most others of myclass; and I have nothing in particular to do for the moment. I don'tobject to going to Schlangenbad. I would convoy you over, as companion,or lady-help, or anything else you choose to call it; I would remainwith you there for a week, till you could arrange with your Gretchen,presumably unsophisticated; and then I would leave you. Salary isunimportant; my fare suffices. I accept the chance as a cheapopportunity of attaining Schlangenbad.'

  The yellow-faced old lady put up her long-handled tortoise-shelleyeglasses and inspected me all over again. 'Well, I declare,' shemurmured. 'What are girls coming to, I wonder? Girton, you say; Girton!That place at Cambridge! You speak Greek, of course; but how aboutGerman?'

  'Like a native,' I answered, with cheerful promptitude. 'I was at schoolin Canton Berne; it is a mother tongue to me.'

  'No, no,' the old lady went on, fixing her keen small eyes on my mouth.'Those little lips could never frame themselves to "schlecht" or"wunderschoen"; they were not cut out for it.'

  'Pardon me,' I answered, in German. 'What I say, that I mean. Thenever-to-be-forgotten music of the Fatherland's-speech has on my infantear from the first-beginning impressed itself.'

  The old lady laughed aloud.

  'Don't jabber it to me, child,' she cried. 'I hate the lingo. It's theone tongue on earth that even a pretty girl's lips fail to renderattractive. You yourself make faces over it. What's your name, youngwoman?'

  'Lois Cayley.'

  'Lois! _What_ a name! I never heard of any Lois in my life before,except Timothy's grandmother. _You're_ not anybody's grandmother, areyou?'

  'Not to my knowledge,' I answered, gravely.

  She burst out laughing again.

  'Well, you'll do, I think,' she said, catching my arm. 'That big milldown yonder hasn't ground the originality altogether out of you. I adoreoriginality. It was clever of you to catch at the suggestion of thisarrangement. Lois Cayley, you say; any relation of a madcap CaptainCayley whom I used once to know, in the Forty-second Highlanders?'

  'His daughter,' I answered, flushing. For I was proud of my father.

  'Ha! I remembe
r; he died, poor fellow; he was a good soldier--andhis'--I felt she was going to say 'his fool of a widow,' but a glancefrom me quelled her; 'his widow went and married that good-lookingscapegrace, Jack Watts-Morgan. Never marry a man, my dear, with adouble-barrelled name and no visible means of subsistence; above all, ifhe's generally known by a nickname. So you're poor Tom Cayley'sdaughter, are you? Well, well, we can settle this little matter betweenus. Mind, I'm a person who always expects to have my own way. If youcome with _me_ to Schlangenbad, you must do as I tell you.'

  'I _think_ I could manage it--for a week,' I answered, demurely.

  She smiled at my audacity. We passed on to terms. They were quitesatisfactory. She wanted no references. 'Do I look like a woman whocares about a reference? What are called _characters_ are usually essaysin how not to say it. You take my fancy; that's the point! And poor TomCayley! But, mind, I will _not_ be contradicted.'

  'I will not contradict your wildest misstatement,' I answered, smiling.

  '_And_ your name and address?' I asked, after we had settledpreliminaries.

  A faint red spot rose quaintly in the centre of the Cantankerous OldLady's sallow cheek. 'My dear,' she murmured, 'my name is the one thingon earth I'm really ashamed of. My parents chose to inflict upon me themost odious label that human ingenuity ever devised for a Christiansoul; and I've not had courage enough to burst out and change it.'

  A gleam of intuition flashed across me, 'You don't mean to say,' Iexclaimed, 'that you're called Georgina?'

  The Cantankerous Old Lady gripped my arm hard. 'What an unusuallyintelligent girl!' she broke in. 'How on earth did you guess? It _is_Georgina.'

  'Fellow-feeling,' I answered. 'So is mine, Georgina Lois. But as I quiteagree with you as to the atrocity of such conduct, I have suppressed theGeorgina. It ought to be made penal to send innocent girls into theworld so burdened.'

  'My opinion to a T! You are really an exceptionally sensible youngwoman. There's my name and address; I start on Monday.'

  I glanced at her card. The very copperplate was noisy. 'Lady GeorginaFawley, 49 Fortescue Crescent, W.'

  It had taken us twenty minutes to arrange our protocols. As I walkedoff, well pleased, Lady Georgina's friend ran after me quickly.

  'You must take care,' she said, in a warning voice. 'You've caught aTartar.'

  'So I suspect,' I answered. 'But a week in Tartary will be at least anexperience.'

  'She has an awful temper.'

  'That's nothing. So have I. Appalling, I assure you. And if it comes toblows, I'm bigger and younger and stronger than she is.'

  'Well, I wish you well out of it.'

  'Thank you. It is kind of you to give me this warning. But I think I cantake care of myself. I come, you see, of a military family.'

  I nodded my thanks, and strolled back to Elsie's. Dear little Elsie wasin transports of surprise when I related my adventure.

  'Will you really go? And what will you do, my dear, when you get there?'

  'I haven't a notion,' I answered; 'that's where the fun comes in. But,anyhow, I shall have got there.'

  'Oh, Brownie, you might starve!'

  'And I might starve in London. In either place, I have only two handsand one head to help me.'

  'But, then, here you are among friends. You might stop with me forever.'

  I kissed her fluffy forehead. 'You good, generous little Elsie,' Icried; 'I won't stop here one moment after I have finished the paintingand papering. I came here to help you. I couldn't go on eating yourhard-earned bread and doing nothing. I know how sweet you are; but thelast thing I want is to add to your burdens. Now let us roll up oursleeves again and hurry on with the dado.'

  'But, Brownie, you'll want to be getting your own things ready.Remember, you're off to Germany on Monday.'

  I shrugged my shoulders. 'Tis a foreign trick I picked up inSwitzerland. 'What have I got to get ready?' I asked. 'I can't go outand buy a complete summer outfit in Bond Street for twopence. Now, don'tlook at me like that: be practical, Elsie, and let me help you paint thedado.' For unless I helped her, poor Elsie could never have finished itherself. I cut out half her clothes for her; her own ideas were almostentirely limited to differential calculus. And cutting out a blouse bydifferential calculus is weary, uphill work for a high-school teacher.

  By Monday I had papered and furnished the rooms, and was ready to starton my voyage of exploration. I met the Cantankerous Old Lady at CharingCross, by appointment, and proceeded to take charge of her luggage andtickets.

  Oh my, how fussy she was! 'You will drop that basket! I hope you havegot through tickets, _via_ Malines, _not_ by Brussels-- I won't go byBrussels. You have to change there. Now, mind you notice how much theluggage weighs in English pounds, and make the man at the office giveyou a note of it to check those horrid Belgian porters. They'll chargeyou for double the weight, unless you reduce it at once to kilogrammes._I_ know their ways. Foreigners have no consciences. They just go to thepriest and confess, you know, and wipe it all out, and start fresh againon a career of crime next morning. I'm sure I don't know why I _ever_ goabroad. The only country in the world fit to live in is England. Nomosquitoes, no passports, no--goodness gracious, child, don't let thatodious man bang about my hat-box! Have you no immortal soul, porter,that you crush other people's property as if it was blackbeetles? No, Iwill not let you take this, Lois; this is my jewel-box--it contains allthat remains of the Fawley family jewels. I positively decline to appearat Schlangenbad without a diamond to my back. This never leaves myhands. It's hard enough nowadays to keep body and skirt together. _Have_you secured that _coupe_ at Ostend?'

  A MOST URBANE AND OBLIGING CONTINENTAL GENTLEMAN.]

  We got into our first-class carriage. It was clean and comfortable; butthe Cantankerous Old Lady made the porter mop the floor, and fidgetedand worried till we slid out of the station. Fortunately, the only otheroccupant of the compartment was a most urbane and obliging Continentalgentleman--I say Continental, because I couldn't quite make out whetherhe was French, German, or Austrian--who was anxious in every way to meetLady Georgina's wishes. Did madame desire to have the window open? Oh,certainly, with pleasure; the day was so sultry. Closed a little more?_Parfaitement_, there _was_ a current of air, _il faut l'admettre_.Madame would prefer the corner? No? Then perhaps she would like thisvalise for a footstool? _Permettez_--just thus. A cold draught runs sooften along the floor in railway carriages. This is Kent that wetraverse; ah, the garden of England! As a diplomat, he knew every nookof Europe, and he echoed the _mot_ he had accidentally heard drop frommadame's lips on the platform: no country in the world so delightful asEngland!

  'Monsieur is attached to the Embassy in London?' Lady Georgina inquired,growing affable.

  He twirled his grey moustache: a waxed moustache of great distinction.'No, madame; I have quitted the diplomatic service; I inhabit London now_pour mon agrement_. Some of my compatriots call it _triste_; for me, Ifind it the most fascinating capital in Europe. What gaiety! Whatmovement! What poetry! What mystery!'

  'If mystery means fog, it challenges the world,' I interposed.

  He gazed at me with fixed eyes. 'Yes, mademoiselle,' he answered, inquite a different and markedly chilly voice. 'Whatever your greatcountry attempts--were it only a fog--it achieves consummately.'

  I have quick intuitions. I felt the foreign gentleman took aninstinctive dislike to me.

  To make up for it, he talked much, and with animation, to Lady Georgina.They ferreted out friends in common, and were as much surprised at it aspeople always are at that inevitable experience.

  'Ah yes, madame, I recollect him well in Vienna. I was there at thetime, attached to our Legation. He was a charming man; you read hismasterly paper on the Central Problem of the Dual Empire?'

  'You were in Vienna then!' the Cantankerous Old Lady mused back. 'Lois,my child, don't stare'--she had covenanted from the first to call meLois, as my father's daughter, and I confess I preferred it to beingMiss Cayley'd. 'We must surely have m
et. Dare I ask your name,monsieur?'

  I could see the foreign gentleman was delighted at this turn. He hadplayed for it, and carried his point. He meant her to ask him. He had acard in his pocket, conveniently close; and he handed it across to her.She read it, and passed it on: 'M. le Comte de Laroche-sur-Loiret.'

  'Oh, I remember your name well,' the Cantankerous Old Lady broke in. 'Ithink you knew my husband, Sir Evelyn Fawley, and my father, LordKynaston.'

  The Count looked profoundly surprised and delighted. 'What! you are thenLady Georgina Fawley!' he cried, striking an attitude. 'Indeed, miladi,your admirable husband was one of the very first to exert his influencein my favour at Vienna. Do I recall him, _ce cher_ Sir Evelyn? If Irecall him! What a fortunate rencounter! I must have seen you some yearsago at Vienna, miladi, though I had not then the great pleasure ofmaking your acquaintance. But your face had impressed itself on mysub-conscious self!' (I did not learn till later that the esotericdoctrine of the sub-conscious self was Lady Georgina's favourite hobby.)'The moment chance led me to this carriage this morning, I said tomyself, "That face, those features: so vivid, so striking: I have seenthem somewhere. With what do I connect them in the recesses of mymemory? A high-born family; genius; rank; the diplomatic service; someunnameable charm; some faint touch of eccentricity. Ha! I have it.Vienna, a carriage with footmen in red livery, a noble presence, a crowdof wits--poets, artists, politicians--pressing eagerly round thelandau." That was my mental picture as I sat and confronted you: Iunderstand it all now; this is Lady Georgina Fawley!'

  I thought the Cantankerous Old Lady, who was a shrewd person in her way,must surely see through this obvious patter; but I had under-estimatedthe average human capacity for swallowing flattery. Instead ofdismissing his fulsome nonsense with a contemptuous smile, LadyGeorgina perked herself up with a conscious air of coquetry, and askedfor more. 'Yes, they were delightful days in Vienna,' she said,simpering; 'I was young then, Count; I enjoyed life with a zest.'

  PERSONS OF MILADI'S TEMPERAMENT ARE ALWAYS YOUNG.]

  'Persons of miladi's temperament are always young,' the Count retorted,glibly, leaning forward and gazing at her. 'Growing old is a foolishhabit of the stupid and the vacant. Men and women of _esprit_ are neverolder. One learns as one goes on in life to admire, not the obviousbeauty of mere youth and health'--he glanced across at medisdainfully--'but the profounder beauty of deep character in aface--that calm and serene beauty which is imprinted on the brow byexperience of the emotions.'

  'I have had my moments,' Lady Georgina murmured, with her head on oneside.

  'I believe it, miladi,' the Count answered, and ogled her.

  Thenceforward to Dover, they talked together with ceaseless animation.The Cantankerous Old Lady was capital company. She had a tang in hertongue, and in the course of ninety minutes she had flayed alive thegreater part of London society, with keen wit and sprightliness. Ilaughed against my will at her ill-tempered sallies; they were too funnynot to amuse, in spite of their vitriol. As for the Count, he wascharmed. He talked well himself, too, and between them I almost forgotthe time till we arrived at Dover.

  It was a very rough passage. The Count helped us to carry our nineteenhand-packages and four rugs on board; but I noticed that, fascinated asshe was with him, Lady Georgina resisted his ingenious efforts to gainpossession of her precious jewel-case as she descended the gangway. Sheclung to it like grim death, even in the chops of the Channel.Fortunately I am a good sailor, and when Lady Georgina's sallow cheeksbegan to grow pale, I was steady enough to supply her with her shawl andher smelling-bottle. She fidgeted and worried the whole way over. She_would_ be treated like a vertebrate animal. Those horrid Belgians hadno right to stick their deck-chairs just in front of her. Theimpertinence of the hussies with the bright red hair--a grocer'sdaughters, she felt sure--in venturing to come and sit on the same benchwith _her_--the bench 'for ladies only,' under the lee of the funnel!'Ladies only,' indeed! Did the baggages pretend they consideredthemselves ladies? Oh, that placid old gentleman in the episcopalgaiters was their father, was he? Well, a bishop should bring up hisdaughters better, having his children in subjection with all gravity.Instead of which--'Lois, my smelling-salts!' This was a beastly boat;such an odour of machinery; they had no decent boats nowadays; with allour boasted improvements, she could remember well when the cross-Channelservice was much better conducted than it was at present. But _that_ wasbefore we had compulsory education. The working classes were drivingtrade out of the country, and the consequence was, we couldn't build aboat which didn't reek like an oil-shop. Even the sailors on board wereFrench--jabbering idiots; not an honest British Jack-tar among the lotof them; though the stewards were English, and very inferior CockneyEnglish at that, with their off-hand ways, and their School Board airsand graces. _She'd_ School Board them if they were her servants; _she'd_show them the sort of respect that was due to people of birth andeducation. But the children of the lower classes never learnt theircatechism nowadays; they were too much occupied with literatoor,jography, and free-'and drawrin'. Happily for my nerves, a good lurch toleeward put a stop for a while to the course of her thoughts on thepresent distresses.

  At Ostend the Count made a second gallant attempt to capture thejewel-case, which Lady Georgina automatically repulsed. She had a fixedhabit, I believe, of sticking fast to that jewel-case; for she was toooverpowered by the Count's urbanity, I feel sure, to suspect for amoment his honesty of purpose. But whenever she travelled, I fancy, sheclung to her case as if her life depended upon it; it contained thewhole of her valuable diamonds.

  We had twenty minutes for refreshments at Ostend, during which intervalmy old lady declared with warmth that I _must_ look after her registeredluggage; though, as it was booked through to Cologne, I could not evensee it till we crossed the German frontier; for the Belgian _douaniers_seal up the van as soon as the through baggage for Germany is unloaded.To satisfy her, however, I went through the formality of pretending toinspect it, and rendered myself hateful to the head of the _douane_ byasking various foolish and inept questions, on which Lady Georginainsisted. When I had finished this silly and uncongenial task--for I amnot by nature fussy, and it is hard to assume fussiness as anotherperson's proxy--I returned to our _coupe_ which I had arranged for inLondon. To my great amazement, I found the Cantankerous Old Lady and theegregious Count comfortably seated there. 'Monsieur has been good enoughto accept a place in our carriage,' she observed, as I entered.

  He bowed and smiled. 'Or, rather, madame has been so kind as to offer meone,' he corrected.

  'Would you like some lunch, Lady Georgina?' I asked, in my chilliestvoice. 'There are ten minutes to spare, and the _buffet_ is excellent.'

  'An admirable inspiration,' the Count murmured. 'Permit me to escortyou, miladi.'

  'You will come, Lois?' Lady Georgina asked.

  'No, thank you,' I answered, for I had an idea. 'I am a capital sailor,but the sea takes away my appetite.'

  'Then you'll keep our places,' she said, turning to me. 'I hope youwon't allow them to stick in any horrid foreigners! They will try toforce them on you unless you insist. _I_ know their tricky ways. Youhave the tickets, I trust? And the _bulletin_ for the _coupe_? Well,mind you don't lose the paper for the registered luggage. Don't letthose dreadful porters touch my cloaks. And if anybody attempts to getin, be sure you stand in front of the door as they mount to preventthem.'

  The Count handed her out; he was all high courtly politeness. As LadyGeorgina descended, he made yet another dexterous effort to relieve herof the jewel-case. I don't think she noticed it, but automatically oncemore she waved him aside. Then she turned to me. 'Here, my dear,' shesaid, handing it to me, 'you'd better take care of it. If I lay it downin the _buffet_ while I am eating my soup, some rogue may run away withit. But mind, don't let it out of your hands on any account. Hold itso, on your knee; and, for Heaven's sake, don't part with it.'

  THAT SUCCEEDS? THE SHABBY-LOOKING MAN MUTTERED.]

  By this time m
y suspicions of the Count were profound. From the first Ihad doubted him; he was so blandly plausible. But as we landed at OstendI had accidentally overheard a low whispered conversation when he passeda shabby-looking man, who had travelled in a second-class carriage fromLondon. 'That succeeds?' the shabby-looking man had muttered under hisbreath in French, as the haughty nobleman with the waxed moustachebrushed by him.

  'That succeeds admirably,' the Count had answered, in the same softundertone. '_Ca reussit a merveille!_'

  I understood him to mean that he had prospered in his attempt to imposeon Lady Georgina.

  They had been gone five minutes at the _buffet_, when the Count cameback hurriedly to the door of the _coupe_ with a _nonchalant_ air. 'Oh,mademoiselle,' he said, in an off-hand tone, 'Lady Georgina has sent meto fetch her jewel-case.'

  I gripped it hard with both hands. '_Pardon_, M. le Comte,' I answered;'Lady Georgina intrusted it to _my_ safe keeping, and, without herleave, I cannot give it up to any one.'

  'You mistrust me?' he cried, looking black. 'You doubt my honour? Youdoubt my word when I say that miladi has sent me?'

  '_Du tout_,' I answered, calmly. 'But I have Lady Georgina's orders tostick to this case; and till Lady Georgina returns I stick to it.'

  He murmured some indignant remark below his breath, and walked off. Theshabby-looking passenger was pacing up and down the platform outside ina badly-made dust-coat. As they passed their lips moved. The Count'sseemed to mutter, '_C'est un coup manque._'

  However, he did not desist even so. I saw he meant to go on with hisdangerous little game. He returned to the _buffet_ and rejoined LadyGeorgina. I felt sure it would be useless to warn her, so completely hadthe Count succeeded in gulling her; but I took my own steps. I examinedthe jewel-case closely. It had a leather outer covering; within was astrong steel box, with stout bands of metal to bind it. I took my cue atonce, and acted for the best on my own responsibility.

  When Lady Georgina and the Count returned, they were like old friendstogether. The quails in aspic and the sparkling hock had evidentlyopened their hearts to one another. As far as Malines they laughed andtalked without ceasing. Lady Georgina was now in her finest vein ofspleen: her acid wit grew sharper and more caustic each moment. Not areputation in Europe had a rag left to cover it as we steamed in beneaththe huge iron roof of the main central junction.

  I had observed all the way from Ostend that the Count had been anxiouslest we might have to give up our _coupe_ at Malines. I assured him morethan once that his fears were groundless, for I had arranged at CharingCross that it should run right through to the German frontier. But hewaved me aside, with one lordly hand. I had not told Lady Georgina ofhis vain attempt to take possession of her jewel-case; and the bare factof my silence made him increasingly suspicious of me.

  'Pardon me, mademoiselle,' he said, coldly; 'you do not understand theselines as well as I do. Nothing is more common than for those rascals ofrailway clerks to sell one a place in a _coupe_ or a _wagon-lit_, andthen never reserve it, or turn one out half way. It is very possiblemiladi may have to descend at Malines.'

  Lady Georgina bore him out by a large variety of selected storiesconcerning the various atrocities of the rival companies which hadstolen her luggage on her way to Italy. As for _trains de luxe_, theywere dens of robbers.

  So when we reached Malines, just to satisfy Lady Georgina, I put out myhead and inquired of a porter. As I anticipated, he replied that therewas no change; we went through to Verviers.

  The Count, however, was still unsatisfied. He descended, and made someremarks a little farther down the platform to an official in thegold-banded cap of a _chef-de-gare_, or some such functionary. Then hereturned to us, all fuming. 'It is as I said,' he exclaimed, flingingopen the door. 'These rogues have deceived us. The _coupe_ goes nofarther. You must dismount at once, miladi, and take the train justopposite.'

  I felt sure he was wrong, and I ventured to say so. But Lady Georginacried, 'Nonsense, child! The _chef-de-gare_ must know. Get out at once!Bring my bag and the rugs! Mind that cloak! Don't forget thesandwich-tin! Thanks, Count; will you kindly take charge of myumbrellas? Hurry up, Lois; hurry up! the train is just starting!'

  I scrambled after her, with my fourteen bundles, keeping a quiet eyemeanwhile on the jewel-case.

  We took our seats in the opposite train, which I noticed was marked'Amsterdam, Bruxelles, Paris.' But I said nothing. The Count jumped in,jumped about, arranged our parcels, jumped out again. He spoke to aporter; then he rushed back excitedly. '_Mille pardons_, miladi,' hecried. 'I find the _chef-de-gare_ has cruelly deceived me. You wereright, after all, mademoiselle! We must return to the coupe__!'

  With singular magnanimity, I refrained from saying, 'I told you so.'

  Lady Georgina, very flustered and hot by this time, tumbled out oncemore, and bolted back to the _coupe_. Both trains were just starting. Inher hurry, at last, she let the Count take possession of her jewel-case.I rather fancy that as he passed one window he handed it in to theshabby-looking passenger; but I am not certain. At any rate, when wewere comfortably seated in our own compartment once more, and he stoodon the footboard just about to enter, of a sudden he made an unexpecteddash back, and flung himself wildly into a Paris carriage. At theself-same moment, with a piercing shriek, both trains started.

  Lady Georgina threw up her hands in a frenzy of horror. 'My diamonds!'she cried aloud. 'Oh, Lois, my diamonds!'

  'Don't distress yourself,' I answered, holding her back, for I verilybelieve she would have leapt from the train. 'He has only taken theouter shell, with the sandwich-case inside it. _Here_ is the steel box!'And I produced it, triumphantly.

  She seized it, overjoyed. 'How did this happen?' she cried, hugging it,for she loved those diamonds.

  'Very simply,' I answered. 'I saw the man was a rogue, and that he had aconfederate with him in another carriage. So, while you were gone to the_buffet_ at Ostend, I slipped the box out of the case, and put in thesandwich-tin, that he might carry it off, and we might have proofsagainst him. All you have to do now is to inform the conductor, who willtelegraph to stop the train to Paris. I spoke to him about that atOstend, so that everything is ready.'

  She positively hugged me. 'My dear,' she cried, 'you are the cleverestlittle woman I ever met in my life! Who on earth could have suspectedsuch a polished gentleman? Why, you're worth your weight in gold. Whatthe dickens shall I do without you at Schlangenbad?'