CHAPTER X.
MRS. WINDEMERE'S DINNER.
"Well, it is almost time for the Lamb dinner," remarked Mr. Lawrence,late that afternoon, to the group about him under the awning of theafter-deck, from which they were watching the sunset, some lounging inthe easy steamer-chairs, others in the hammocks which had beenstretched in every available space, and still others, among whom wasDwight, resting full length on the large Persian rug, which had beenlaid in the center of the deck planks. For the heat, and still, easymotion made every one lazy.
Upon hearing this remark the boy looked up.
"Lamb dinner? I thought it was pig this morning. It hasn't changedinto sheep, I hope?"
"And must I really explain my observation to a lad about entering theHigh School?" cried his uncle reproachfully. "I'll warrant Bessknows--and somebody else, too!" catching the gleam in Hope's eye.
"Oh, yes, I understand, in a way," returned Bess. "Let's see, CharlesLamb, the writer, was very fond of roast pig, wasn't he?"
"Was he, Miss Hope?"
"Yes, sir, and wrote an essay upon it which has become a classic."
"Oh, of course! I'd almost forgotten that," put in Bess, hastily.
"And I'm free to confess I never knew it," added her brother. "Factis, I begin to think I didn't learn much in school, anyhow--that is,much that I've needed since. I've picked up more about geography andhistory on this trip than all I ever learned there."
"No, no, not quite that, my boy! You simply have digested what thenyou only swallowed. Don't you know what Channing says--'It is notenough to cram ourselves with a great load of collections--we must chewthem over again'? The fact is, nothing can ever be quite learned untilit is experienced. I may be taught from a book that water expands infreezing, but I cannot realize that fact till I, sometime, leave waterin a pitcher and find it broken next morning. Then I know, in a waynever to be forgotten, about this scientific truth. So it is ingeography; we have always taken in certain facts regarding the relativepositions of land and water, mountain and plain, but if we hadattempted to go anywhere, with absolutely no guide but memory, nine outof ten of us would be lost on the first stage of the journey. You arenow simply assimilating what you learned at school, and making thefacts, which you took on trust then, part and parcel of your actualexperience now. It seems to me one of the best ways to study geographyat home is to travel on paper. That comes nearest the real thing. Mapout a route, buy your tickets (in imagination), take your conveyance,and on the way see everything possible to be gleaned from those eyeswhich have gone before, and left a record of their impressions. Tryand think if you would see in the same way, and what else might beobserved by quick eyes, natural to occur in that part of the globe. Ifone has imagination he may almost believe, in time, that he has reallyvisited the places so studied.
"I knew a young fellow, once, who lived in an insignificant town inVermont, and had never been fifty miles from home, yet who kept up suchjourneys for years, and many a time, in talking with him, I, the realtraveler, would learn facts about certain localities where I had been,from him who never set foot near them. Just to prove him, once, Isaid, 'Are you acquainted with Salt Lake City?' 'Pretty well,' heanswered modestly. Having spent a summer or two there, myself, Ithought I would try and trip him up, so said, carelessly, 'When I stoodin front of Brigham Young's Square and looked at that great town on myleft'--but there he interrupted me, quick as a flash, 'You mean lookeddown upon the town at your right, don't you? Brigham's Square is onwhat is called the North Bench, and standing before it you mustoverlook the larger part of the city lying upon your right.' Of coursethis was correct, and I had to acknowledge that he really knew as muchabout many localities as I, who had visited them. But he was unusual."
"Well," said Dwight slowly, "what I have to complain of about travelersis that they don't tell the little things--the details, you know. Isuppose it seems silly to them to say whether they went on board asteamer in a boat, or across a gangway, or up a flight of steps, or todescribe just how a car looks when they travel by rail, but I used towish they would. And when I write my book of travels I'm going to!"
"I would," said his sister encouragingly.
"Well, you wait! But say, uncle, there are some books in your libraryat home that you used to have when you were a boy, I reckon, for thepictures look about a century old, but I used to like to read them everso much, and since I came abroad I've been finding out how well theydescribe the things that happen to a traveler even to-day. Forinstance, when you and I went from Cadiz to Ronda by diligence."
"Oh, you mean the Rollo books--Rollo's Tour in Europe?" laughed Mr.Lawrence. "How I did pore over those when I was a little boy! Yes,they do go into details, that's a fact. Somebody's advice to Rolloalways to follow the crowd when bewildered at some great railwayterminus often occurs to me, still, and is acted upon with perfectsuccess."
"But don't you think travelers who write for publication sometimes drawthe long bow a bit?" asked Lieutenant Carnegie in his diffident way.
"Oh, never!" cried a voice from the guardrail, and the Traveler held upa beseeching hand as he came forward. "Don't take away our reputationfor veracity, I pray you! With the public's confidence lost to us whatcould we do? We are all truthful--even to Du Chaillu and Gulliver."
Every one laughed, and the young man, blushing a little, returned,
"Well, I was thinking especially of one or two I've read, lately. Forinstance, thirty miles a day is quite a tramp for an ordinary man ongood level roads, without luggage; and when a traveler tells me hemakes sixty over hills, or marshes, weighted down with camp supplies,who wasn't brought up a soldier, either, why, I just begin to compareit with my own experiences and say--"
"Here _lies_ a great man, don't you?" put in Dwight.
"Well, yes, that's about it."
"Oh, but you must remember that often he can only judge of the distancemade by his feelings," laughed the Traveler. "It seems sixty miles,anyhow."
"I don't doubt that," cried Carnegie, showing handsome teeth in asmile. "I thought there must be some way of getting around it. But ifhe had said thirty-five miles I'd have believed him, and thought him amighty good tramper into the bargain."
"Yet many who have never tramped under knapsack, blankets, andtent-cloth would say, 'That's nothing!' and our poor voyager, whoreally had made a record, would be consigned to oblivion. In all art,even that of writing facts, one must exaggerate a little in order tomake the effect life-size--so to say."
"That's true enough," said Mrs. Vanderhoff. "It is so easy to sitstill and pass judgment upon those who exert themselves. When I hear aperson criticising a painting, a story, a building, a song who couldnot draw a straight line, write a sentence correctly, build a cob-houseon just proportions, nor keep the key through 'Yankee Doodle,' I longto insist upon his making a practical trial in such things beforedaring to make a criticism. Yet it is a fact that artistic people ofevery grade and type have to writhe under the criticisms ofignoramuses, who could not accomplish the piece of work they scathinglydenounce if their lives depended upon it. I pick up a book and flingit aside with the comment, 'It's not worth reading!' or I look over agreat vessel like this and say, 'How clumsily built!' but what if Iwere doomed to write a similar book, to plan a great steamer--justthink of the results! I would never criticise again."
"It would be a pretty good scheme," laughed Mr. Lawrence. "Make thesebilious critics prove their right to the title by doing the work. Icould really enjoy their agonies on occasion."
"But would you have no criticisms, then?" asked Mrs. Campbell. "Wouldnot that mean stagnation in effort? There must be something to spurone on to better work, mustn't there?"
"I doubt if unintelligent criticism often does prove an incentive,"said the Traveler. "'Let me be judged by my peers' is a universalsentiment with the conscientious in any employment."
"Yes, Rachel," put in Mr. Lawrence, smiling at his sister, "if CaptainHosmer should criticise the s
hip we would build we might endure it, butif--well, Mr. Donelson, for instance, ventured to elevate his nose wewould naturally think he knew nothing about it, and would not even tryto please him."
"How _could_ he elevate his nose?" asked Mrs. Campbell innocently, in awhisper that sent the Windemere girls off into giggles, for Mr.Donelson's nose was not only long but slightly hooked, besides.Evidently Mrs. Campbell had not quite forgiven the attache for hisdesertion of the morning.
"But if I'm not mistaken we're all competent to judge of a good dinner,if we couldn't cook one," laughed the young man in return, not havingcaught her comment, and he pointed to Tegeloo who, smiling andimportant, was bowing before Mrs. Windemere.
"Dinner is served to madam!" he announced with a flourish and an oddaccent, while, at the same instant, Captain Hosmer gallantly offeredhis arm.
"May I have the pleasure? Our dinner is waiting, I believe, Mrs.Windemere," and amid much merriment and excitement, the other gentlemenquickly sought partners and followed.
By a previous understanding with Mr. Malcolm, Mrs. Windemere and partywere offered the places of the four young people at the captain'stable, and they "went down a peg," as Dwight put it, to another,entirely filled with the younger portion of the guests. If there was alittle more learning and elegance, perhaps, at the former, there was avast amount of fun and nonsense at the latter. Every one in the saloonwas supplied with at least one thin slice from the prize pig which,roasted whole and holding an ear of corn in its teeth, was gailydecorated with the flags of England and the United States. It was heldhigh for inspection before the carving began, and many a joke ranaround, from table to table, upon the fine appearance of his porcinemajesty.
At some of the tables wine flowed freely, and a few of the young mensoon ordered it at the one where our girls were seated. It is morecommonly used at meals abroad than with middle-class Americans at home,and nearly all partook. Neither Bess nor Dwight, however, would takeit and, seeing this, Faith and Hope, caring little about it, alsodeclined, though they had never been taught conscientious scruplesregarding its use. No special comment was made upon this, but whenChester Carnegie also turned down his glass the young attaches began arunning fire of jests at his expense; Mr. Allyne especially, who soonshowed the influence of his champagne, leading off with some sharplypersonal remarks.
The lieutenant said as little as possible in return, but occasionally awitty reply would turn the laugh against his opponent, who grewdisagreeable and really quarrelsome, as the wine affected him more andmore.
Seeing this, Carnegie attempted to ignore the whole matter, and turningto Faith, who sat next him, began talking in a lowered tone, hopingAllyne would understand that he was now going too far and so drop thesubject.
But a man in liquor is an irresponsible being, and Allyne, under thepolish of education and training, possessed the nature of a bully--hewas tyrannical and contentious. Choosing now to assume that Carnegie'spartial turning away and low-voiced conversation were intended toinsult him, he straightened up, and looking fiercely across the table,with eyes already watery from the heady fumes of the strong wine,tapped sharply with his glass and said in too loud a tone for theplace, "Carnegie, I was talking to you."
The lieutenant turned his head a trifle, and bowed coolly.
"Excuse me till later, please; I am engaged with Miss Hosmer atpresent."
The other laughed out in a disagreeable manner. While alone with Mrs.Campbell, that afternoon, he had easily extracted the name of the youngman with whom one of the twins (neither knew which one) had beenpromenading the deck, the evening before, and now, mingled with hisrising wrath towards him, was the confused memory of the woman's subtleinsinuations.
When sober, Mr. Allyne was usually a gentleman, but in his cups hebecame little short of a ruffian in manner. He laughed significantly.
"Engaged with, or to?" he asked with insolence. "It had better be tofrom reports, I should say!"
Instantly the lieutenant, pale as death, was on his feet, while Faith,gasping a little, leaned back in her chair, as white and almostfainting. Hope and Dwight, round-eyed and not half comprehending,stared amazedly, while Donelson, realizing that his companion was quitebeside himself, also sprang up and laying a firm hand on Allyne's arm,turned beseechingly.
"Don't, Carnegie--for heaven's sake don't make a scene! I'll get himaway. He'll be in the dust for this, to-morrow. Come, Tom, you mustgo with me instantly."
They were attracting attention. Captain Hosmer's eyes were fixedsternly upon them, for though he had not heard a word he could see thatsomething was wrong, and Faith's white face startled him. He feltthere was some disturbance which frightened her, but perhapsfortunately, never dreamed she could be at all concerned in the matter.The Traveler, however, who held the key to the situation, and hadcaught a sentence or two, on his part, looked sternly at Mrs. Campbellwho, suave and unruffled, was monopolizing Mr. Lawrence and evidentlyamusing him, too.
There might have been worse trouble but for young Carnegie'smoderation. The instant Donelson's plea was made he realized that forFaith's sake, if not Allyne's, he must be cautious, so said only, "Ileave him to you now, Mr. Donelson," and seated himself, while theattache, partly by force and partly by coaxing, succeeded in draggingthe foolish fellow from the room without further display.
"What was the matter with that young sprout of an attache?" asked thecaptain later in the evening, as he and his daughters met for a quietlittle visit in the library. "Too much champagne?"
Hope looked quickly at her sister, whose face was turned away, and asshe did not respond, answered lightly, "I believe so. He wasquarrelsome, and Mr. Donelson wanted to get him away before he--beforehe made trouble."
"H'm! With whom was he quarreling?"
Faith, back in the shadow, was still unresponsive, and Hope thinkingshe ought to be the one to answer, let some indignation creep into herown voice as she said,
"Oh, that Mr. Carnegie."
"What, Carnegie? I had taken him for a decent, modest sort of fellow.But any one who will get into a drunken brawl before ladies--"
Faith turned quickly. She was quite white.
"Father, Mr. Carnegie had not been drinking. He did not touch the wineand--and I'm the only one to blame." She burst into tears and, hidingher face in both hands, started to run into her own stateroom, but herfather caught her and, with a tender arm about her waist, drew her downupon his knee.
"I don't understand you, daughter," he said in a voice of yearningtenderness, for whenever his children were in trouble, it always seemedto him that his fair young wife stood at his elbow inciting him togentleness. "I don't understand, but I must. Why should two headyyoung fools quarrel over my little girl? She is no coquette, I'm sure."
"Papa," put in Hope, for her sister was sobbing helplessly upon hisshoulder, "Faith is not to blame, and I don't half understand it,myself, but I'll tell you just what happened--" and she did, much as ithas been repeated here.
Her father listened with a darkening face.
"Some cursed gossip!" he muttered as she finished, while Faith managedto murmur,
"I didn't mean any harm, papa. I talked to him just as we do toDwight, and he told me about his home, and what he is going to do inIndia. You might have heard every word, papa!"
"Of course, of course, I understand. Only, I ought to have warned you;a steamer is a perfect hot-bed of gossip on a long voyage like this.But how did that scapegrace get hold of--wait! Hasn't he been withthat little Mrs. Campbell most of the day?"
"Yes, he has," said Hope. "They wouldn't play gromets with us, youremember; she said it was too warm."
"Too warm, indeed! I'd like to consign such mischief-makers to ahotter place. Well, well, don't worry now. I begin to comprehend itall."
"But how should Mrs. Campbell know, papa?"
"Because she was pacing the deck herself, or sitting in a corner. Isaw her under a smokestack with that Russian--no fit companion either.Had to leave his own coun
try because of his record. She's a nice oneto talk--but that's the very kind. Now, see here! After this yougirls keep close company, and stay in tow of Mrs. Vanderhoff, or LadyMoreham, and then you'll be all right. You'll mind now?"
"Yes we will, father, but tell me something. Did you know Lady Morehambefore this trip? I thought--" He turned a quizzical look upon Hope'seager face, and laughed a little.
"Better think more about things that concern yourself, little one, andnot be speculating about my passengers, or you'll get to be anotherMrs. Campbell," and, kissing both girls, he gently seated Faith in hislarge chair and hurried out.
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