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The instant we saw the diligence momma declared that if she had to sit anywhere but in the middle of it she would remain in Chiavenna until next day. Mrs. Portheris was of the same mind. She said that even the intérieur would be dangerous enough going down hill, but if the Senator would sit there too she would try not to be nervous. The coupé was terrifying—one saw everything the poor dear horses did—and as to the banquette she could imagine herself flying out of it, if we so much as went over a stone. As a party we were strangers to the diligence; we had all the curiosity and hesitation about it, as Dicky remarked, of the animals when Noah introduced them to the Ark. I asked Dicky to describe the diligence for the purpose of this volume, thinking that it might, here and there, have a reader who had never seen one, and he said that, as soon as he had made up his mind whether it was most like a triumphal chariot in a circus procession or a boudoir car in an ambulance, he would; but then his eyes wandered to Isabel, who was pinker than ever in the mountain air, and his reasoning faculties left him. A small German with a very red nose, most incoherent in his apparel—he might have been a Baron or again a hair-dresser—already occupied one of the seats in the intérieur , so after our elders had been safely deposited beside him the banquette and the coupé were left, as Mrs. Portheris said, to the adventurous young people. Dicky and I had conspired, for the sustained effect on Mrs. Portheris, to sit in the banquette , while Isabel was to suffer Mr. Mafferton in the coupé —an arrangement which her mother viewed with entire complacency. "After all," said Mrs. Portheris to momma, "we're not in Hyde Park—and young people will be young people." We had not counted, however, with the Senator, who suddenly realised, as Dicky was handing me up, that it was his business, in the capacity of Doge, to interfere. It is to his credit that he found it embarrassing, on account of his natural, almost paternal, dislike to make things unpleasant for Dicky. He assumed a sternly impenetrable expression, thought about it for a moment, and then approached Mr. Mafferton.
"I'd be obliged to you," he said, "if you could arrange, without putting yourself out any, to change places with young Dod, there, as far as St. Moritz. I have my reasons—but not necessarily for publication. See?"
Mr. Mafferton's eye glistened with appreciation of the confidence reposed in him. "I shall be most happy," he said, "if Dod doesn't mind." But Dicky, with indecent haste, was already in the coupé . "Don't mention it, Mafferton," he said out of the window. "I'm delighted—at least—whatever the Senator says has got to be done, of course," and he made an attempt to look hurt that would not have imposed upon anybody but a self-constituted Doge with a guilty conscience. I took my bereavement in stony calm, with possibly just a suggestion about my eyebrows and under-lip that some day, on the far free shores of Lake Michigan, a downtrodden daughter would re-assert herself; poppa re-entered an intérieur darkened by a thunder-cloud on the brow of his Aunt Caroline; and we started.
It was some time before Mr. Mafferton interfered in the least with the Engadine. He seemed wrapped in a cloud of vain imaginings, sprung, obviously, from poppa's ill-considered request. I understood his emotions and carefully respected his silence. I was unwilling to be instructed about the Engadine either botanically or geologically—it was more agreeable not to know the names of the lovely little foreign flowers, and quite pleasant enough that every turn in the road showed us a white mountain or a purple one without having to understand what it was made of. Besides, I particularly did not wish to precipitate anything, and there are moments when a mere remark about the weather will do it. I had been suffering a good deal from my conscience since Mrs. Portheris had told me that poppa had written to Arthur—I didn't mind him enduring unnumbered pangs of hope deferred, but it was quite another thing that he should undergo the unnecessary martyrdom of imagining that he had been superseded by Dicky Dod. On reflection, I thought it would be safer to start Mr. Mafferton on the usual lines, and I nerved myself to ask him whether he could tell me anything about the prehistoric appearance of these lovely mountains.
"I am glad," he responded absently, "that you admire my favourite Alps." Nothing more. I tried to prick him to the consideration of the scenery by asking him which were his favourite Alps, but this also came to nothing. Having acknowledged his approval of the Alps, he seemed willing to let them go unadorned by either fact or fancy. I offered him sandwiches, but he seemed to prefer his moustache. Presently he roused himself.
"I'm afraid you must think me very uninteresting, Miss Wick," he said.
"Dear me, no," I replied. "On the contrary, I think you are a lovely type."
"Type of an Englishman?" Mr. Mafferton was not displeased.
"Type of some Englishmen. You would not care to represent the—ah, commercial classes?"
"If I had been born in that station," replied Mr. Mafferton modestly, "I should be very glad to represent them. But I should not care to be a Labour candidate."
"It wouldn't be very appropriate, would it?" I suggested. "But do you ever mean to run for anything, really?"
"Certainly not," Mr. Mafferton replied, with slight resentment. "In our family we never run. But, of course, I will succeed my uncle in the Upper House."
"Dear me!" I exclaimed. "So you will! I should think it would be simply lovely to be born a legislator. In our country it is attained by such painful degrees." It flashed upon me in a moment why Mr. Mafferton was so industrious in collecting general information. He was storing it up against the day when he would be able to make speeches, which nobody could interrupt, in the House of Lords.
The conversation flagged again, and I was driven to comment upon the appearance of the little German down in the intérieur. It was quite remarkable, apart from the bloom on his nose, his pale-blue eyes wandered so irresponsibly in their sockets, and his scanty, flaxen beard made such an unsuccessful effort to disguise the amiability of his chin. He wore a braided cotton coat to keep cool, and a woollen comforter to keep warm, and from time to time he smilingly invited the attention of the other three to vast green maps of the country, which I could see him apologising for spreading over Mrs. Portheris's capacious lap. It was interesting to watch his joyous sense of being in foreign society, and his determination to be agreeable even if he had to talk all the time. Now and then a sentence bubbled up over the noise of the wheels, as when he had the happiness to discover the nationalities of his fellow-travellers.
"Ach, is it so? From England, from America also, and I from Markadorf am! Four peoples, to see zis so beautiful Switzerland from everyveres in one carriage we are come!" He smiled at them one after another in the innocent joy of this wonderful fact, and it made me quite unhappy to see how unresponsive they had grown.
"In America I haf one uncle got——"
"No, I don't know him," said the Senator, who was extremely tired of being expected to keep up with society in Castle Garden.
"But before I vas born going, mein uncle I myself haf never seen! To Chicago mit nossings he went, und now letters ve are always getting it is goot saying."
"Made money, has he?" poppa inquired, with indifference.
"Mit some small flours of large manufacture selling. Dose small flours—ze name forgotten I haf—ze breads making, ze cakes making, ze mädschen——"
"Baking powder!" divined momma.
"Bakings—powder! In America it is moch eat. So mine uncle Blittens——"
"Josef Blittens?" exclaimed poppa.
"Blittens und Josef also! The name of mine uncle to you is known! He is so rich, mit carriage, piano, large family—he is now famous also, hein? My goot uncle!"
"He's been my foreman for fifteen years," said poppa, "and I don't care where he came from; he's as good an American now as there is in the Union. I am pleased to make the acquaintance of any member of his family. There's nothing in the way of refreshments to be got till we next change horses, but as soon as that happens, sir, I hope you will take something."
After that we began to rattle down the other side of the Julier and I lost the thread of the conversation, but I saw that Herr Blittens' determination to practise English was completely swamped in the Senator's desire to persuade him of the advantages of emigration.
"I never see a foreigner in his native land," said Mr. Mafferton, regarding this one with disapproval, "without thinking what a pity it is that any portion of the earth, so desirable for instance as this is, should belong to him." Which led me to suggest that when he entered political life in his native land Mr. Mafferton should aim at the Cabinet, he was obviously so well qualified to sustain British traditions.
My companion's mind seemed to be so completely diverted by this prospect that I breathed again. He could be depended upon I knew, never to think seriously of me when there was an opportunity of thinking seriously of himself, and in that certainty I relaxed my efforts to make it quite impossible that anything should happen. I forgot the contingencies of the situation in finding whiter glaciers and deeper gorges, and looking for the Bergamesque sheep and their shepherds which Baedeker assured us were to be seen pasturing on the slopes and heights of the Julier wearing long curling locks, mantles of brown wool, and peaked Calabrian hats. We grew quite frivolous over this phenomenon, which did not appear, and it was only after some time that we observed the Baedeker to be of 1877, and decided that the home of truth was not in old editions. It seemed to me afterwards that Mr. Mafferton had been waiting for his opportunity; he certainly took advantage of a very insufficient one.
"It's exactly," said I, talking of the compartments of the diligence, "as if Isabel and Dicky had the first floor front, momma and poppa the dining room, and you and I the second floor back."
It was one of those things that one lives to repent if one survives them five seconds; but my remorse was immediately swallowed up in consequences. I do not propose to go into the details of Mr. Mafferton's second attempt upon my insignificant hand—to be precise, I wear fives and a quarter—but he began by saying that he thought we could do better than that, meaning the second floor back, and he mentioned Park Lane. He also said that ever since Dicky, doubtless before his affections had become involved, had told him that there was a possibility of my changing my mind—I was nearly false to Dicky at this point—he had been giving the matter his best consideration, and he had finally decided that it was only fair that I should have an opportunity of doing so. These were not his exact words, but I can be quite sure of my impression. We were trotting past the lake at Maloja when this came upon me, and when I reflected that I owed it about equally to poppa and to Dicky Dod I felt that I could have personally chastised them—could have slapped them—both. What I longed to do with Mr. Mafferton was to hurl him, figuratively speaking, down an abyss, but that would have been to send him into Mrs. Portheris's beckoning arms next morning, and I had little faith in any floral hat and pink bun once its mamma's commands were laid upon it. I thought of my cradle companion—not tenderly, I confess—and told Mr. Mafferton that I didn't know what I had done to deserve such an honour a second time, and asked him if he had properly considered the effect on Isabel. I added that I fancied Dicky was generalising about American girls changing their minds, but I would try and see if I had changed mine and would let him know in six days, at Harwich. Any decision made on this side of the Channel might so easily be upset. And this I did knowing quite well that Dicky and Isabel and I were all to elope from Boulogne, Dicky and Isabel for frivolity and I for propriety; for this had been arranged. In writing a description of our English tour I do not wish to exculpate myself in any particular.
We arrived late at St. Moritz, and the little German, on a very fraternal footing, was still talking as the party descended from the intérieur . He spoke of the butterflies the day before in Pontresina, and he laughed with delight as he recounted.
"Vorty maybe der vas, vifty der vas, mit der diligence vlying along; und der brittiest of all I catch; he vill come at my nose"
