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Never was a girl happier than Rosie the morning she and her mother left the Grand Central Depot for New England. Rarely, if ever, did a girl work harder than Rosie at her studies. Her soul often had burned with ambition for fame and for money so that she could a.s.sist her mother. The way was now open and success was possible. At the sunset hour she often walked with a friend among the historic elms on Boston Common and in the beautiful flower gardens.
Often young men longed for her acquaintance, but they could never get the consent of her pretty eyes. She was pet.i.te, her hair black, her eyes dark brown, her lips ruby-red, and her nose and chin finely chiselled. She had a cameo-like face and complexion of olive tint that told of the land of vines and figs in sunny Italy. Her step was elastic, her manner vivacious and confiding. Her dress was always tidy and stylish. Usually she carried a roll of music in one hand as she left the conservatory, and lovely flowers in the other that had been expressed either by the senator or Leo.
On the completion of her course in the conservatory, Leo had pressed his suit so devotedly that Rosie consented to an engagement without her mother's knowledge. The ring of gold contained a single ruby, and Leo had had engraved on the inside of the ring, "Et teneo, et teneor." When Rosie saw the old Roman motto she said, "I hold, and am held. How appropriate, Leo! Your love for me, devotion to the beautiful, and our bright memories of artistic Italy shall bind us together forever.
"But Leo, why do you put the ring on the third finger before marriage?"
Leo answered, "Because I have read somewhere that many centuries ago the Egyptians believed that the third finger was especially warmed by a small artery that proceeded directly from the heart. The Egyptians also believed that the third finger is the first that a new born babe is able to move, and the last finger over which the dying lose control."
"Nonsense," replied Rosie, "once the wedding ring, studded with precious stones, was worn on the forefinger; Christianity moved it to the third finger. Its use was originated in this way: the priest first put it on the thumb, saying 'In the name of the Father'; on the forefinger, adding, 'in the name of the Son;' on the second finger, repeating, 'in the name of the Holy Ghost;' and on the third finger, ending with 'Amen,' and there it staid."
Abelard and Heloise were not happier in their unselfish affection than Leo and Rosie in their love. Colors on Leo's canvas now sought each other in magic harmony. At single sittings in his studio Leo made Madonna faces, and glowing landscapes, that evoked words of warm praise from his fellow artists, who were blind to the secret of Leo's remarkable power.
For a Christmas present Leo brought Rosie a picture of his own of Rosie's beautiful hand holding lilies of the valley; and while she thanked him in sweetest words, he pinned at her throat a Florentine cameo once worn by his mother. All these things, and more, came flashing into Leo's mind as he struggled on the ship's deck to keep his footing in the storm.
A week before the steamer left New York Leo and Rosie had quarreled.
Leo's invitation to accompany the Harrises had come to him from Alfonso only three days before the "Majestic's" departure, and such was his momentary ill-humor toward Rosie that he sailed from New York without even advising her of his new plan, or saying good-bye. Leo, alone on the sea, often severely rebuked himself that he could have been so unkind to the woman to whom he had given his heart and his mother's favorite bit of jewelry.
A thousand times he wished he could ask Rosie's forgiveness, for it was in a fit of anger that Rosie had s.n.a.t.c.hed the ruby ring off her hand and the cameo from her throat, and had thrown them into Leo's lap saying, "Take them, Leo, you will easily find another girl to share your family name and your poverty as an artist while I have need of wealth." Leo had turned from Rosie's home without the power to reply, he was so taken by surprise.
Leo was never so happy as when Rosie was present in his studio to encourage him by word or song, but now all was changed.
Sometimes Leo in his secret thoughts feared that Rosie's beauty and charming manner would command riches, and sometimes he dared to think that possibly his talent and fame might command a handsome dowry. Then his mind turned to Lucille. She was taller than Rosie, not so vivacious, but like Rosie enjoyed a happy time. He even ventured at times to say mentally of Lucille that "it is she or none on earth," and then as he recalled the ring given to Rosie, the old love would a.s.sert itself and he would shut his eyes, ashamed of an affection that was false hearted. It was fortunate for Leo that he was a good sailor, as it enabled him to do many thoughtful things for the Harrises, and thus show his appreciation of their great kindness to him.
On the third day out from New York, the storm moderated somewhat and the pa.s.sengers at breakfast visibly increased in number, but before the lunch hour was over the fury of the gale returned. The steamer in her course had crossed the center of the cyclone where the force of the storm was diminished for a short time only. All that afternoon and night the gale increased in force till it seemed as if volcanic powers under the sea were at work turning the ocean upside down.
Pent up forces in the west were loosed, and Neptune, deity of the ocean, with his three-p.r.o.nged trident stalked abroad. The bombardment of waves was terrific, and the twin propellers raced so fiercely that speed was reduced to a minimum.
In the morning the terrible cyclone had moved to the north, smoother seas were reached by lunch time, and most of the tables were again filled. Many of those who were making a first voyage also put in their appearance, and they were subjected to much chaffing from the veterans of ocean travel. Captain Morgan and Doctor Argyle were the recipients of many complimentary words for their skill.
At dinner Leo and Alfonso mustered full forces, and each side scored every point, for both Mrs. Harris and Lucille entered the dining room, and everybody enjoyed the menu after a three days' fast. Captain Morgan spoke of the storm as "the late unpleasantness," and hoped his friends would not desert him again. Mrs. Harris was silent, but Alfonso and Lucille promised loyalty for the future, and Leo said, "Captain Morgan, I believe I haven't missed a meal."
"Bravo, Colonna!" the captain replied, "you really seem to have inherited the sailing qualities of your great countryman Columbus, and I sincerely hope that you may render the world equally valuable services."
Lucille added, "I am sure he will, captain; during the gale, he rendered signal services to suffering humanity."
"To-morrow," continued Captain Morgan, "is the 21st of June, when the day and night will be of equal length, the sun rising and setting promptly at six o'clock."
"Why not," said Lucille, "set our watches by the steamer's chronometer, and have the steward call us at 5:30 o'clock and all test the accuracy of the almanac?" Mrs. Harris and several others entered heartily into the plan.
The pure sea-air was so fresh and restful that when three bells or 5:30 o'clock in the morning was heard, the Harris party were easily awakened and they hastily prepared to witness at sea the sunrise on June 21st.
Leo and Alfonso were first on deck. Mrs. Harris, Lucille, and the Judge, an acquaintance made on the ship, soon joined them. Their watches agreed that it was ten minutes to six o 'clock. The decks had been washed and put in order, engines were running at full speed, the eastern sky was flushed with crimson and golden bands that shot out of the horizon, and fan-like in shape faded up in the zenith. With watches in hand, all eyes were fixed on a pathway of intensely lighted sea and sky in the east.
Suddenly, as the sailor rung out "four bells," or 6 o'clock, Lucille shouted, "There! See that drop of molten gold floating on the horizon.
Captain Morgan was right as to time. See, judge, how the gold glows with heat and light as the globe turns to receive the sun's blessings!"
"Yes," said the judge who now for the first time since the storm became really enthusiastic, "another page of the record book is turned, and the good and bad deeds of humanity will be entered by the recording angel.
The mighty sun, around which we revolve at fabulous speed is, in its relations to us mortals, the most important material fact in the universe. If I ever change my religion I shall become a sun-worshiper.
The Turk in his prayers, five times a day, faces the sun."
An early brisk walk on the deck sharpened appet.i.tes, and our sun-worshipers were among the first at breakfast. Gradually others entered, and again the dining room was cheerful with sunny faces. After breakfast the decks were astir with pretty women, children, and gentlemen lifting their hats. The promenade was as gay as on Fifth Avenue. Doctor Argyle gave his arm to Mrs. Harris, Lucille walked between Alfonso and Leo, and doctors of divinity and men of repute in other professions kept faithful step. Actors and actresses moved as gracefully as before the footlights. A famous actor carried on his shoulders a tiny girl who had bits of sky for eyes, a fair face, and fleecy hair that floated in the sea breeze, making a pretty picture.
Business men with fragrant cigars indulged in the latest story or joke.
By degrees the promenade disappeared as pa.s.sengers selected steamer chairs, library, or smoking room, and congenial souls formed interesting and picturesque groups. At the outset of the voyage you wonder at the lack of fine dress, and hastily judge the modest men and women about you to be somewhat commonplace, but after days at sea and many acquaintances made, you discover your mistake and learn that your companions are thoroughly cosmopolitan. In fair weather the decks are playgrounds where children at games enliven the scene, and sailors' songs are heard.
When the old clipper ship took from four to six weeks to cross the Atlantic, a weekly paper was printed. On some of the swift liners of to-day on the fourth day out a paper is issued, when perhaps the steamer is "rolling in the Roaring Forties." The sheet is a four-page affair, about six inches wide and nine inches long. It gives a description of the ship signed by the Captain; the daily runs of the ship follow, the distance still to go is stated, and the probable time it will take to make port; under "General Information" you learn about seasickness, what you have not already experienced, the necessity of exercise aboard ship, also much about the handling of luggage in Europe; some of the prose and poetry is sure to be good, and is contributed by skilled writers among the pa.s.sengers. A column of "Queries" and a few brief stories and jokes brighten the sheet. The price is fifteen cents, and every copy of "The Ocean Breeze" is highly prized. On the whole, people at sea enjoy most the enforced rest, for they escape newspapers, telegrams, creditors, and the tax-gatherer.
At 11 o'clock on the deck, every pleasant day, a large, well-dressed man, attended by his valet, generously opened a barrel of fresh oysters for the pa.s.sengers. This benevolent gentleman proved to be a famous Saratoga gambler. In this way he made many acquaintances and friends, and each day he increased his winnings at cards and in bets on the vessel's run, till finally, not he, but the guileless pa.s.sengers paid for the oysters.
Gambling was the business of the man who advertised by his oysters; with the actor, who romped with the pretty child, gambling was a pa.s.sion. So intense was this pa.s.sion with the actor that he would attempt to match silver dollars or gold sovereigns with everybody he met when ash.o.r.e; between acts on the stage he would telegraph his bet to distant cities.
Crossing parks or walking down Broadway his palm concealed a coin, ready for the first possible chance. He would match his coat or his home or even his bank account. On ship he matched sovereigns only.
Occasionally the "Majestic" pa.s.sed in sight of some other ship, or "tramp-steamer," and by signal exchanged names and location. Rarely do the great pa.s.senger steamers meet on the Atlantic, as the course outward is quite to the north to avoid collisions. Half-awake, half-asleep, the days on shipboard go by as in a dream, and you gladly welcome back restored health. Perhaps a sweet or strong face wins your interest or heart, as the case may be, and life-long friendships are formed.
Confidence thus bestowed often begets the same in others, and you are thankful for the ocean voyage.
CHAPTER VII
LIFE AT SEA A KALEIDOSCOPE
In a shady retreat on the ship after lunch sat the Harrises, Leo, the judge, and Dr. Argyle, the latter reading a French novel. Leo had just finished a new novel ent.i.tled "A Broken Promise," Alfonso had read three hundred pages in one of d.i.c.kens's novels that tells so vividly how the poor of London exist.
Dr. Argyle said, "Judge, what do you think of novels anyway?"
The matter-of-fact judge gruffly replied, "I never read the modern novel because I don't care to waste my time."
Whereupon Alfonso said, "Give me the novel of an idealist that has a purpose. Colonel Ingersol spoke the truth in a recent lecture when he said that a realist can be no more than an imitator or a copyist. His philosophy makes the wax that receives and retains an image of an artist.
Realism degrades and impoverishes. The real sustains the same relation to ideal that a stone does to a statue, or that paint does to a painting."
"No," replied Leo, "a novel proper should be a love story spiced with the beauties of nature and exciting adventures. A novel with a purpose, Alfonso, should advertise under another name for it is a cheat. It is often written with a deliberate attempt to beguile a person into reading a story which the writer deliberately planned to be simply the medium of conveying useful or useless information. Possibly a social panacea, or the theme may include any subject from separating gold from the ocean, to proving the validity of the latest theory on electricity."
"Leo, you go too far," said Mrs. Harris, "the modern novel that appears in press and magazine, and later in book form, entering all our homes, should teach high morality and contain only proper scenes and pa.s.sages."
"But, mother," said Lucille, "you would thus debar many of the world's masterpieces in literature. It seems to me that the morality of character and scene has little to do with the artistic value of the book. The realist must depict life as it is. 'Art, for art's sake,' is what commends a novel to artistic minds."
"The modern novel is too much like modern architecture," said the judge, "a combination of cla.s.sical and subsequent styles thrown together to satisfy groups of individuals rather than to conform to well accepted rules or ideas of art. Modern novels and modern architecture are sure to give way to n.o.bler thoughts that shall practically harmonize the useful and the beautiful."
Dr. Argyle, having asked for opinions on the modern novel, obtained them.
He was an earnest listener as he had wished more knowledge of the Harris family, which would enable him the better to lay plans; he hoped to win Lucille's favor.
It was now a quarter to six o'clock and many pa.s.sengers, including the Harris group, moved to the port side of the ship to observe if the sun, at the expiration of twelve hours, would again touch the water. This twenty-first day of the month had been one of Lowell's rare June days.
It had been ushered in by beautiful cloud coloring.
The ocean was now free from mist, the blue clouds overhead darkened the sea to the horizon, and it looked as if the sun would set behind clouds.
Unexpectedly, however, the clouds near the water separated, and the sun again appeared in all his glory, sending a weird light out over the water, gilding the "Majestic," flooding the faces of the pa.s.sengers with an unnatural light, and bringing into strong relief a sailing craft hovering on the starboard horizon.