Elizabeth Visits America Part 9

San Francisco.

Dearest Mamma,--I have just got a letter from Jane Roose about having heard of Mrs. Smith's being on the ship with Harry. Has it come to your ears, too? What on earth could a woman like that want to be going to Zanzibar for, unless she was hunting some man who was going to hunt lions? I call it most extraordinary, don't you? And probably that is what these papers meant by saying he had gone to India with a fair haired widow, and I was so silly I never suspected a thing. Well, if he thinks it will annoy me he is very much mistaken. I don't care in _the least_, and am amusing myself _awfully_ with Gaston, and you can tell him so; and as for cabling to him, as I think I asked you to in my last letter, don't dream of it! Let him enjoy himself if he can. But how any man could, with that woman, old enough to be his mother! I suppose she has taken some lovely clothes. She always has that sort of attraction, and no doubt she is pouring sympathy into his ears in the moonlight about my unkindness. It makes me feel perfectly sick that anyone can be such a fool as Harry to be taken in by her;--having got away from her once, to go back again.

No doubt it was she prompted him to be so horrible to me (he behaved like a perfect brute you know, Mamma, and I never did a thing). It is only because I can't bear him to be made a fool of that I mind in the least, otherwise I am perfectly indifferent. He can play with whom he chooses, it is nothing to me. Gaston is devoted to me, and although I should not think of divorcing Harry, No matter what he does, because of letting that odious woman become Marchioness of Valmond, still it is nice to know someone else would absolutely die for you, isn't it, even though I don't want to marry him--Gaston, I mean--We arrived here last night. We have come all round this way because now we are about it Octavia felt we ought to see Salt Lake City and San Francisco, and go down the coast to Los Angeles. Then we shall have done this side of America thoroughly. We only rushed through everywhere, of course, but got a general coup d'oeil. Crossing the great Salt Lake was wonderful.

It seemed like being at sea on a bridge, and I could not help wondering what it would be like if the lake were rough. You can't think of anything so intelligent as the way that Brigham Young laid out Salt Lake City, seeing far ahead; he planned splendid avenues, and planted trees, and even though lots of them still have only mud roads, and little board shanties down them, they are there all ready for the time when the splendid houses are built, and tram cars and electric light everywhere; and such green and beautiful rich looking country! No wonder, after the desert it seemed the promised land.

I should hate to be a Mormon, wouldn't you, Mamma? Worse than being a Chinee and having to sit at the theatre penned up with only females.

Think of sharing a man with six other women, and being a kind of servant. It is natural they look cowed and colourless,--the ones we saw; at least they were pointed out to us. But really it seems much honester to call them wives openly than to be like--but no, I won't speak of it any more. Only _I_ will never share a man with another woman! Not the least little sc.r.a.p of him; and if Harry thinks I will he is mistaken. To have six husbands is a much better plan; that, at least, would teach one to be awfully agreeable, and to understand the creatures' different ways; but a man to have six wives is an impossible idea,--specially as now it is not necessary, the way they behave. I wish I had got Jane's letter sooner, Mamma, because I could have amused myself more with Gaston than I have. I feel I have lost some opportunities, snubbing him all the time.

San Francisco is perfectly wonderful. Imagine colossal switchbacks going for miles, and other switchbacks crossing them like a chess board, and you have some idea of the way of the streets; hills as steep as staircases, and the roads straight up and down, not zigzag, just being obliged to take the land as it comes; some persons in the beginning, I suppose, having ruled the plan on flat paper without considering what the formation was like, and then insisting on its being ruthlessly carried out.

When we arrived at the station, Octavia and I were put into a two horse fly because it was very windy and cold. It always is, we are told, and the motors for hire were all open. So we started to go to Fairmount, the big hotel right up on the hill. At first it was a sort of gradual slope past such sad desolation of levelled houses, with hardly the foundations left. The results of the earthquake and the fire are so incredible that you would think I was recounting travellers' tales if I described them, so I won't. Presently the coachman turned his two strong fat horses to the right, up one of the perpendicular roads, to get to our destination, but they would have none of it! They backed and jibbed and got as cross as possible, and he was obliged to continue along the slope, explaining to us that there was another turning further on which they might be persuaded to face. But when we got there it was just the same, no whipping or coaxing could get them to sample it. They backed so violently that we nearly went over into the cellars of a ruin at the corner, and the man asked us to get out, as he said it was no use, none of his horses would face these streets. And to go on to a gradual hill was miles further along, and he advised us to walk, as the hotel was only about six hundred yards away!! So in the growing night Octavia and I, clutching our jewel cases, were left to our own devices. We really felt deserted, as now that nearly everything in this neighbourhood is in ruins there are no people about much, and it felt like being alone in a graveyard, or Pompeii after dark. We almost expected bandits and wolves or jackals. We started, holding on our hats and feeling very ill-tempered, but we had not got a hundred yards on our climb, when a motor tore down upon us, and Gaston and the Senator jumped out; they had been getting quite anxious at our non-arrival and come to look for us.

Tom, of course, being an English husband, was sure nothing had happened; and when we got there we found him having a c.o.c.ktail and smoking a cigar calmly in the hotel.

As we have come this way we have picked up Lola sooner. I must call her that, Mamma, although I dislike using peoples' Christian names, but Mrs. Vinerhorn is so long, and everyone calls her Lola, and the Senator wished it; he wants us to be friends. He and I have been even more intimate since he told me his story. I am deeply attached to him; he is a sort of father and yet not--much nicer, really; and the best friend I have in the world, except you, Mamma, and one I would rather tell anything to. He is a perfect dear; we all love him. The two cousins, who were promised Tom, live here and came to dinner; such amusing girls, they would make any party merry, and we had the most gay and festive evening; and one of the Senator's secretaries has joined the party also, a very nice worthy young fellow whom the girls bully. Columbia and Mercedes are the girls' names, and they are both small and dark and pretty. They are both heiresses, and wonderfully dressed. Their two mothers were the Senator's sisters, and "raised" somewhere down South, where he originally came from. But the girls have been educated in New York with Lola.

The crowd in this hotel are totally different looking to Chicago. Some have moustaches, and some even look like sportsmen, and as if they led an idle life and enjoyed it; and a few of the women are lovely, pure pink and white, and golden haired, and that air of breezy go-aheadness which is always so attractive. And all of them seem well dressed, though naturally one or two freaks are about, as in every country.

The food was as excellent as in all the places, and rather more varied--dishes with wonderful salads and ices; and after dinner we sat in the hall and made plans, and Gaston said such entreprenant things in my ear that I was obliged to be really angry with him. So to pay me out he sulked, and then devoted himself to Mercedes. Men are really impossible people to deal with, aren't they, Mamma? So ridiculously vain and unreasonable. I shall be glad to see Mr. Renour again; he was quite different; respectful and yet devoted, not wanting to eat one up like Gaston, and I am _sure_ incapable of treating me like Harry has. I suppose by now they have got right up into Africa. I wonder if she is going to shoot lions, too, or be a shikari or cook his food. I am sure she would look hideous roughing it without her maid. Her hair has to be crimped with tongs, and she has to have washes for her complexion, and things. You know, Mamma, though I don't care a bit, the whole affair has upset me so that the dear Senator noticed I was not quite myself after the post came in, and asked me if there was anything else I wanted that he could do for me. And when I told him only to teach me to be a brazen heartless creature, as hard as nails, he held my hand like I held his, and pressed it, and said we should soon be in the sunshine where the winds did not blow.

"You are too broad gauge to want things like that," he said; "those bitter thoughts are for the puny growths."

And I suddenly felt inclined to cry, Mamma; I can't think why. So I came up to bed;--and I am homesick and I want Hurstbridge and Ermyntrude, and what's the good of anything?

Your affectionate daughter,

ELIZABETH.

ON THE PRIVATE CAR

_On the private car_.

DEAREST MAMMA,--My spirits have quite recovered; you can't imagine the fun we are having! We only stayed the day in San Francisco to look round at those Golden Gates and other things. The astonishing pluck of the people, reconstructing the whole town with twenty storey houses on the old sites! One would think they would be afraid of their being earthquaked again, but not a bit, and the city part is nearly all re-made. Everything being brand new is naturally not so interesting as the results of the tragedy, but you have read all about it so often there is no use my telling you. We were shown one of the "graft"

buildings, and one wonders how they were able to put it up without people seeing the tricks at the time. There are numbers of ways to get rich, aren't there?

Finally the whole party started for Los Angeles, pa.s.sing down the coast.

A company of ten, five drawing-rooms were naturally impossible; indeed we could only get two, so this time Octavia and I insisted upon sleeping under the green curtains and let the girls have our drawing-room, because we wanted to see what it was like. They said they often travelled like that, and did not mind a bit; but we insisted, and we felt quite excited when bed-time came! Lola and the husband had the other drawing-room, and the Senator and Tom the section next to us on one side, and the Vicomte and secretary the one on the other, so we were well guarded.

We laughed so tremendously undressing;--Lola let us take off the outside things with her and Agnes and Wilbor helping made so many remarks and fuss, we sent them off to their berths, and crept in dressing-gowns to our section, which was fortunately by the door. Of course Gaston was waiting to know if he could be of any use, because he said I would remember he could be a "tres habile" lady's maid years ago on the Sauterelle! But we would not let him tuck us up, and so he got into his own and peeped out through the curtains while Tom and the Senator saw we were all right.

I had the top of ours, so had Gaston of theirs, and ever so many times he tapped on the division. I do hope the other people thought it was a mouse; but when he began to give terrible sighs, and at last exclaimed, "Sapristi!" they must have wondered what was the matter. He was so dreadfully tiresome and restless, the poor secretary could not get a wink of sleep, he told me to-day; and at last fearing he was ill he climbed up and offered him some brandy. He must be a very good man, the secretary said, because he found him kneeling with his forehead pressed against the division which separated him from me, evidently saying his prayers. Aren't the French odd? And when I asked him next day how he had slept he looked at me with eyes of the deepest reproach and said I had taken care he could not sleep; just as though it was I who was troublesome and snored! Wasn't it crazy of him, Mamma? And since he has devoted himself entirely to Mercedes, and I am perfectly thankful, as very soon at the first mining town we are expecting Mr. Renour!

We have two tables of four for meals, and whichever two have been naughty we put at a little one by themselves; and it is generally Tom and Columbia. They are getting on splendidly, and Octavia is so pleased, as she was afraid Tom might grow bored and give up the trip and go straight on to Mexico: Englishman can't stay long without killing things, can they, Mamma, and they never think about their wives'

pleasure, as the Americans do. The dear Senator divides himself between Octavia and me, and when she has the secretary she gets him to give her information about the country, and we are all as happy as possible. Mr.

Renour is bringing a friend with him, so that will make twelve. The coast is pretty, but I can't describe scenery, especially as all of this has been done dozens of times before, and also, though it is beautiful, it is rather of a sameness; and half the time, having been so long in the train we did not look out, there are such a number of amusing things to do in a party like this.

Lola's husband is a poor creature; how she adores him as she does is a mystery; he simply "don't amount to anything;" only he is beautifully dressed, like an Englishman, and has as nice socks as Harry. The Senator, without asking me any questions, has soothed me so that I am not feeling as cross as I was, though I am determined not to go near Harry again for months and months. When we get back, if he is still in Africa with that creature, I shall take the children for a voyage round the world. He shall see he can't behave like a brute to me with impunity. But yesterday morning when that silly little Vinerhorn wore a shirt of Charvet's of exactly the same silk as I chose Harry last in Paris, a nasty feeling came in my throat, and I seemed to see his blue eyes flashing angry flames at me like when we said good-bye.

Just think, Mamma, all these years since I have been married I have never so much as looked at anyone else. He has kept me knowing hardly anything more of the world than I did then. But I am not going to _stay_ stupid I can a.s.sure you! If he can go off to Africa with Mrs. Smith, why can't I play with Mr. Renour?

(I am tired of Gaston, really.)

The second night in the train was quite peaceful. We went to bed before they came in from smoking, and Octavia had the top berth and heard nothing, so I suppose the Vicomte said his prayers with his forehead glued against the other side. And when we arrived at Los Angeles there was the private car. It is so comfortable. The salon at the end has an observation veranda on it, and at night three berths let down in it for three of the men, and in the dining-room three others can sleep. The Senator has a tiny place to himself. The Vinerhorns, who never will be separated, have one cabin, and Tom and Octavia the other. Octavia says she likes experiences, and she had no idea Tom could be so handy, for Wilbor and Agnes and all the valets have been sent on to the Osages City in an ordinary train and he had to dress her. I am in the larger compartment with the two girls, and we have only one enormous bed for the three of us! And it does seem quaint, Mamma, sleeping with women. I felt quite shy at first; then we laughed so we could not get to sleep.

They are perfect angels and do everything for me, and make me so vain admiring my hair being so long and curly. Columbia brushed it for half an hour last night, and we were just in the middle of it when we pulled up at a small station, on the beginning of the mining world, and to our surprise Mr. Renour and his friend got in. We heard the noise and the greetings and all peeped out to see, and the Senator, sans gene, brought them down the pa.s.sage to say how do you do.

Mr. Renour does look a pet! He was (and still is to-day) in miner's dress, and it is corduroy trousers tucked into high-laced boots and a grey flannel shirt with a shallow turn down collar which has been turned up again, looking like a Lord Palmerton, or someone of that date; a loose tie and a corduroy Norfolk jacket, all a sort of earth colour except the tie, which is blue. The friend is the same, and they both have queer American-looking sort of sombrero greenish felt hats, and the friend hasn't even a tie.

We were glad to see them, at least I was. We were all in dressing-gowns, with our hair down, and the girls pretended to hide behind me and be coy, and we played the fool just like children. It was fun, Mamma, and think of the faces of Harry's two aunts, the d.u.c.h.ess and Lady Archibald, if they could have seen me being so undignified. But here no one has any nasty thoughts, they are all happy and natural and innocent as kittens, and I am enjoying myself.

Gaston is frightfully jealous of the newcomers, but he is too much of a polished gentleman to be disagreeable over it; it is only the English who have remained savages in that respect, showing their tempers as plainly as a child would do. If you remember, Harry had a thunderous face before we were married, whenever I teased him, and since, my heavens! If people even look a good deal in a restaurant he is annoyed.

But I don't mind so much, because my time has always been taken up with him making love to me himself. It is the cold ones who are jealous just from vanity that are insupportable, as it is not that they love the woman so much themselves as because they think it is "dam cheek"

(forgive me, Mamma) for any other man to dare to look at _their_ belongings? Now American men don't seem jealous at all; they are so kind they are thinking of the woman's pleasure, not their own. Really, I am sure in the long run they must be far nicer to live with--not a tenth part as vain as Englishmen.

The most jolly looking, jet-black old n.i.g.g.e.r in white duck livery brought us our coffee in the morning. His face is a full moon of laughter. No one could feel gloomy if he were near, and his voice, like a little child's, is as sweet as a bird, and such delightful phrasing.

He has been with the Senator for fifteen years and couldn't live "way from de car." His name is Marcus Aurelius, and I am sure he is just as great a philosopher as the Emperor was.

The girls have known him since they were babies, of course, and it is such fun to hear him talking to them, a mixture of authority, worshipping affection, and familiarity, which I believe only old n.i.g.g.e.rs can have.

"A pretty sight to see dem tree young ladies as happy as birds in dar nests;" we heard him telling Gaston just outside, when he met on his way to the bath (there are two lovely bath-rooms).

So Gaston said he was sure the coffee-pot was heavy and he could not hold so many plates, and he would with pleasure help him with our breakfast. But Tom, who joined them, said Marcus Aurelius must not set fire to tinder, and that he was the only one of the party who could be considered suitable to be morning waiter, being my cousin and a married man. We were so entertained beyond the open door, and were quite surprised at Gaston's silence, until we saw his face reflected in the looking gla.s.s, where he had been gazing at us all the time through the crack! What a mercy on a picnic of this kind that we all look so lovely in bed! We felt it our duty to scream, and then Marcus Aurelius shut the door. Are you fearfully shocked at my being so schoolgirlish, Mamma?

Don't be, I shall get old directly I get back home, and it is all the infectious gaiety of these dear merry girls.

Everybody was ready for breakfast, and we had rather a squash to get seated, and had to be very near. Mr. Renour was next me, and he is simply delightful in a party; and the friend, Octavia says, is exactly her affair, as she is past thirty, and he is a charming boy of twenty-two.

There is a n.i.g.g.e.r cook and he makes such lovely corn cakes and rolls and agreeable breakfast dishes, and we were all so hungry.

Mr. Renour had been down to this other place on business, and there waited to board us sooner.

The country seemed to grow more desolate and grim as we went on. After breakfast we sat outside in the observation car together, and he told me all about it, and the way they prospect to find the ore. And everything one hears makes one respect their pluck and endurance more. He asked me to call him Nelson; he said Mr. Renour was so "kinder stiff" and he wasn't used to it, so I did, but the good taste which characterizes everything about him made him never suggest he should be familiar with me. He was just as gentle and dear as anyone could be, and seemed to be trying to efface the remembrance in my mind that he had ever rather made love to me.

Life had always been so kind to him, he said, even though from a child he had always had to work so hard. He said the Senator was the biggest man he had ever seen (meaning by that the biggest soul), and it was owing to his help and encouragement and splendid advice, that he had been able to stand out against the other sharks who wanted to get the shares of his mine when at one moment he was a "bit shaky"; and now all was well, and he would soon be many times a millionaire. Then I asked him what he would do with it, and he said, "I'll just make those nearest to me happy and then those further off; and then I'll set my brains to devise some scheme to benefit my country; and p'r'aps you'd help me,"

he said. "You great ladies in England think so much of the poor and suffering. I don't want just to put my name on big charities; p'r'aps you'd suggest something which could be of value?"

His whole face is so fine and open, Mamma, and his lithe, sinewy figure reminds me of the Ludovici Mars; not quite so slender as Harry and Tom, but just as strong, and those balanced lines of rugged strength are quite as beautiful. I wonder what one of the meaty Easterners would look beside him, if they could both have nothing on and be made in bronze!

"I think I'd like to marry an English girl," he said at last. "Our women are very beautiful and very smart, but yours have a tenderness which appeals to me. I could do with a mighty lot of love when once I took one for my own." Then he said he had always kept his ideal of a woman, and when he found her she should have him, "body and heart and soul." And think, Mamma, what a fortunate woman she would be, wouldn't she?

He is quite different here to in France or on the boat; he has a quiet dignity and ease, and that perfect calm of a man of the world on his own ground. I think there must be something Irish about him, too, for he has a strain of sentiment and melancholy which can come directly after his most brilliant burst of spirits. We stayed there talking for about an hour undisturbed, and then the Senator opened the door and joined us.

"You are as quiet as mice, my children," he said, "what have you been doing?"