Madame Beaurepas pursued. "We"re to have a specimen to-morrow of a very different sort."
"An American?" I was duly interested.
"Two Americaines-a mother and a daughter. There are Americans and Americans: when you"re difficiles you"re more so than any one, and when you"ve pretensions-ah, par exemple, it"s serious. I foresee that with this little lady everything will be serious, beginning with her cafe au lait. She has been staying at the Pension Chamousset-my concurrente, you know, further up the street; but she"s coming away because the coffee"s bad. She holds to her coffee, it appears. I don"t know what liquid Madame Chamousset may dispense under that name, but we"ll do the best we can for her. Only I know she"ll make me des histoires about something else. She"ll demand a new lamp for the salon; vous allez voir cela. She wishes to pay but eleven francs a day for herself and her daughter, tout compris; and for their eleven francs they expect to be lodged like princesses. But she"s very "ladylike"-isn"t that what you call it in English? Oh, pour cela, she"s ladylike!"
I caught a glimpse on the morrow of the source of these portents, who had presented herself at our door as I came in from a walk. She had come in a cab, with her daughter and her luggage; and with an air of perfect softness and serenity she now disputed the fare as she stood on the steps and among her boxes. She addressed her cabman in a very English accent, but with extreme precision and correctness. "I wish to be perfectly reasonable, but don"t wish to encourage you in exorbitant demands. With a franc and a half you"re sufficiently paid. It"s not the custom at Geneva to give a pourboire for so short a drive. I"ve made inquiries and find it"s not the custom even in the best families. I"m a stranger, yes, but I always adopt the custom of the native families. I think it my duty to the natives."
"But I"m a native too, moi!" cried the cabman in high derision.
"You seem to me to speak with a German accent," continued the lady.
"You"re probably from Basel. A franc and a half are sufficient. I see you"ve left behind the little red bag I asked you to hold between your knees; you"ll please to go back to the other house and get it. Very well, si vous me manquez I"ll make a complaint of you to-morrow at the administration. Aurora, you"ll find a pencil in the outer pocket of my embroidered satchel; please write down his number-87; do you see it distinctly?-in case we should forget it."
The young lady so addressed-a slight fair girl holding a large parcel of umbrellas-stood at hand while this allocution went forward, but apparently gave no heed to it. She stood looking about her in a listless manner-looking at the front of the house, at the corridor, at Celestine tucking back her ap.r.o.n in the doorway, at me as I pa.s.sed in amid the disseminated luggage; her mother"s parsimonious att.i.tude seeming to produce in Miss Aurora neither sympathy nor embarra.s.sment. At dinner the two ladies were placed on the same side of the table as myself and below Mrs. Ruck and her daughter-my own position being on the right of Mr.
Ruck. I had therefore little observation of Mrs. Church-such I learned to be her name-but I occasionally heard her soft distinct voice.
"White wine, if you please; we prefer white wine. There"s none on the table? Then you"ll please get some and remember to place a bottle of it always here between my daughter and myself."
"That lady seems to know what she wants," said Mr. Ruck, "and she speaks so I can understand her. I can"t understand every one over here. I"d like to make that lady"s acquaintance. Perhaps she knows what _I_ want, too: it seems so hard to find out! But I don"t want any of their sour white wine; that"s one of the things I don"t want. I guess she"ll be an addition to the pension."
Mr. Ruck made the acquaintance of Mrs. Church that evening in the parlour, being presented to her by his wife, who presumed on the rights conferred upon herself by the mutual proximity, at table, of the two ladies. I seemed to make out that in Mrs. Church"s view Mrs. Ruck presumed too far. The fugitive from the Pension Chamousset, as M.
Pigeonneau called her, was a little fresh plump comely woman, looking less than her age, with a round bright serious face. She was very simply and frugally dressed, not at all in the manner of Mr. Ruck"s companions, and had an air of quiet distinction which was an excellent defensive weapon. She exhibited a polite disposition to listen to what Mr. Ruck might have to say, but her manner was equivalent to an intimation that what she valued least in boarding-house life was its social opportunities. She had placed herself near a lamp, after carefully s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g it and turning it up, and she had opened in her lap, with the a.s.sistance of a large embroidered marker, an octavo volume which I perceived to be in German. To Mrs. Ruck and her daughter she was evidently a puzzle; they were mystified beyond appeal by her frugal attire and expensive culture. The two younger ladies, however, had begun to fraternise freely, and Miss Ruck presently went wandering out of the room with her arm round the waist of Miss Church. It was a warm evening; the long windows of the salon stood wide open to the garden, and, inspired by the balmy darkness, M. Pigeonneau and Mademoiselle Beaurepas, a most obliging little woman who lisped and always wore a huge cravat, declared they would organise a fete de nuit. They engaged in this enterprise, and the fete developed itself on the lines of half a dozen red paper lanterns hung about in the trees, and of several gla.s.ses of _sirop_ carried on a tray by the stout-armed Celestine. As the occasion deepened to its climax I went out into the garden, where M. Pigeonneau was master of ceremonies.
"But where are those charming young ladies," he cried, "Mees Roque and the new-comer, l"aimable transfuge? Their absence has been remarked and they"re wanting to the brilliancy of the scene. Voyez, I have selected a gla.s.s of syrup-a generous gla.s.s-for Mees Roque, and I advise you, my young friend, if you wish to make a good impression, to put aside one which you may offer to the other young lady. What"s her name? Mees Cheurche? I see; it"s a singular name. Ca veut dire "eglise,"
n"est-ce-pas? Voila, a church where I"d willingly worship!"
Mr. Ruck presently came out of the salon, having concluded his interview with the elder of the pair. Through the open window I saw that accomplished woman seated under the lamp with her German octavo, while Mrs. Ruck, established empty-handed in an armchair near her, fairly glowered at her for fascination.
"Well, I told you she"d know what I want," he promptly observed to me.
"She says I want to go right up to Appenzell, wherever that is; that I want to drink whey and live in a high lat.i.tude-what did she call it?-a high alt.i.tude. She seemed to think we ought to leave for Appenzell to-morrow; she"d got it all fixed. She says this ain"t a high enough lat-a high enough alt.i.tude. And she says I mustn"t go too high either; that would be just as bad; she seems to know just the right figure. She says she"ll give me a list of the hotels where we must stop on the way to Appenzell. I asked her if she didn"t want to go with us, but she says she"d rather sit still and read. I guess she"s a big reader."
The daughter of this devotee now reappeared, in company with Miss Ruck, with whom she had been strolling through the outlying parts of the garden; and that young lady noted with interest the red paper lanterns.
"Good gracious," she inquired, "are they trying to stick the flower-pots into the trees?"
"It"s an illumination in honour of our arrival," her companion returned.
"It"s a triumph over Madame Chamousset."
"Meanwhile, at the Pension Chamousset," I ventured to suggest, "they"ve put out their lights-they"re sitting in darkness and lamenting your departure."
She smiled at me-she was standing in the light that came from the house.
M. Pigeonneau meanwhile, who had awaited his chance, advanced to Miss Ruck with his gla.s.s of syrup. "I"ve kept it for you, mademoiselle," he said; "I"ve jealously guarded it. It"s very delicious!"
Miss Ruck looked at him and his syrup without making any motion to take the gla.s.s. "Well, I guess it"s sour," she dropped with a small shake of her head.
M. Pigeonneau stood staring, his syrup in his hand; then he slowly turned away. He looked about at the rest of us as to appeal from Miss Ruck"s insensibility, and went to deposit his rejected tribute on a bench.
"Won"t you give it to me?" asked Miss Church in faultless French.
"J"adore le sirop, moi."
M. Pigeonneau came back with alacrity and presented the gla.s.s with a very low bow. "I adore good manners."
This incident caused me to look at Miss Church with quickened interest.
She was not strikingly pretty, but in her charming irregular face was a light of ardour. Like her mother, though in a less degree, she was simply dressed.
"She wants to go to America, and her mother won"t let her"-Miss Sophy explained to me her friend"s situation.
"I"m very sorry-for America," I responsively laughed.
"Well, I don"t want to say anything against your mother, but I think it"s shameful," Miss Ruck pursued.
"Mamma has very good reasons. She"ll tell you them all."
"Well, I"m sure I don"t want to hear them," said Miss Ruck. "You"ve got a right to your own country; every one has a right to their own country."
"Mamma"s not very patriotic," Aurora was at any rate not too spiritless to mention.
"Well, I call that dreadful," her companion declared. "I"ve heard there are some Americans like that, but I never believed it."
"Oh there are all sorts of Americans."
"Aurora"s one of the right sort," cried Miss Ruck, ready, it seemed, for the closest comradeship.
"Are you very patriotic," I asked of the attractive exile.
Miss Ruck, however, promptly answered for her. "She"s right down homesick-she"s dying to go. If you were me," she went on to her friend, "I guess your mother would _have_ to take me."
"Mamma"s going to take me to Dresden."
"Well, I never heard of anything so cold-blooded!" said Miss Ruck. "It"s like something in a weird story."
"I never heard Dresden was so awful a fate," I ventured to interpose.
Miss Ruck"s eyes made light of me. "Well, I don"t believe _you_"re a good American," she smartly said, "and I never supposed you were. You"d better go right in there and talk to Mrs. Church."
"Dresden"s really very nice, isn"t it?" I asked of her companion.
"It isn"t nice if you happen to prefer New York," Miss Ruck at once returned. "Miss Church prefers New York. Tell him you"re dying to see New York; it will make him mad," she went on.
"I"ve no desire to make him mad," Aurora smiled.
"It"s only Miss Ruck who can do that," I hastened to state. "Have you been a long time in Europe?" I added.
"As long as I can remember."
"I call that wicked!" Miss Ruck declared.
"You might be in a worse place," I continued. "I find Europe very interesting."
Miss Ruck fairly snorted. "I was just _saying_ that you wanted to pa.s.s for a European."
Well, I saw my way to admit it. "Yes, I want to pa.s.s for a Dalmatian."