frances waldeaux-第1章

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Frances　Waldeaux　by　Rebecca　Harding　Davis





A　REMEMBRANCER　OF　BRITTANY　FOR　THE　BEST　FELLOW…TRAVELLER　IN　THE　WORLD　　


FRANCES　WALDEAUX　　CHAPTER　I

In　another　minute　the　Kaiser　Wilhelm　would　push　off　from　her　pier　in　Hoboken。　　The　last　bell　had　rung；　the　last　uniformed　officer　and　white…jacketed　steward　had　scurried　up　the　gangway。　　The　pier　was　massed　with　people　who　had　come　to　bid　their　friends　good…by。　　They　were　all　Germans；　and　there　had　been　unlimited　embracing　and　kissing　and　sobs　of　〃Ach！　mein　lieber　Sckatz！〃　and　〃Gott　bewahre　Dick！〃

Now　they　stood　looking　up　to　the　crowded　decks；　shouting　out　last　fond　words。　　A　band　playing　〃The　Merry　Maiden　and　the　Tar〃　marched　on　board。

The　passengers　pressed　against　the　rails；　looking　down。　　Almost　every　one　held　flowers　which　had　been　brought　to　them：　not　costly　bouquets；　but　homely　bunches　of　marigolds　or　pinks。　　They　carried；　too；　little　German　or　American　flags；　which　they　waved　frantically。

The　gangways　fell；　and　the　huge　ship　parted　from　the　dock。　　It　was　but　an　inch；　but　the　whole　ocean　yawned　in　it　between　those　who　went　and　those　who　stayed。　　There　was　a　sudden　silence；　a　thousand　handkerchiefs　fluttered　white　on　the　pier　and　the　flags　and　flowers　were　waved　on　the　ship；　but　there　was　not　a　cry　nor　a　sound。

James　Perry；　one　of　the　dozen　Americans　on　board；　was　leaning　over　the　rail　watching　it　all　with　an　amused　smile。　　〃Hello；　Watts！〃　he　called；　as　another　young　man　joined　him。　　〃Going　over？　　Quite　dramatic；　isn't　it？　　It　might　be　a　German　ship　going　out　of　a　German　port。　　The　other　liners　set　off　in　as　commonplace　a　way　as　a　Jersey　City　ferryboat；　but　these　North　German　Lloyd　ships　always　sail　with　a　certain　ceremony　and　solemnity。　　I　like　it。〃

〃I　always　cross　on　them；〃　said　Dr。　Watts。　　〃I　have　but　a　month's　vacationtwo　weeks　on　board　ship；　two　on　land。　　Now　you；　I　suppose；　don't　have　to　count　your　days？　　You　cross　every　year。　　I　can't　see；　for　my　part；　what　business　the　assistant　editor　of　a　magazine　has　abroad。〃

〃Oh；　we　make　a　specialty　of　articles　from　notorieties　over　there；　statesmen；　scientific　fellows；　or　people　with　titles。　　I　expect　to　capture　a　paper　from　Lorne　and　some　sketches　by　the　Princess　Beatrice　this　time。〃

〃Lorne？　　It　throws　you　into　contact　with　that　sort　of　folk；　eh？〃　said　the　doctor；　looking　at　him　enviously。　　〃How　do　they　strike　you；　Jem？〃

〃Well；〃　said　Perry　importantly；　〃well…bred　people　are　the　same　the　world　over。　　I　only　see　them　in　a　business　way；　of　course；　but　one　can　judge。　　Their　voices　are　better　than　ours；　but　as　to　looksno！　　It's　queer；　but　American　womenthe　wives　and　daughters　of　saddlers　or　farmers；　perhapshave　more　often　the　patrician　look　than　English　duchesses。　　Now　there；　for　example；〃　warming　to　the　subject；　〃that　woman　to　whom　you　bowed　just　now；　the　middle…aged　one　in　blue　cloth。　　Some　Mrs。　Smith　or　Pratt；　probably。　　A　homely　woman；　but　there　is　a　distinction　in　her　face；　a　certain　surety　of　good　breeding；　which　is　lacking　in　the　heavy…jawed　English　royalties。〃

〃Yes；　that　is　a　friend　of　mine；〃　said　Watts。

She　is　a　Mrs。　Waldeaux　from　Wier；　in　Delaware。　　You　could　hardly　call　her　a　typical　American　woman。　　Old　French　emigre　family。　　Probably　better　blood　than　the　Coburgs　a　few　generations　back。　　That　priggish　young　fellow　is　her　son。　　Going　to　be　an　Episcopalian　minister。〃

Mr。　Perry　surveyed　his　friend's　friends　good…humoredly。　　〃Brand　new　rugs　and　cushions；〃　he　said。　　〃First　voyage。　　Heavens！　　I　wish　it　were　my　first　voyage；　and　that　I　had　their　appetite　for　Europe。〃

〃You　might　as　well　ask　for　your　relish　of　the　bread　and　butter　of　your　youth；〃　said　Watts。

The　two　men　leaned　lazily　against　the　bulwark　watching　the　other　passengers　who　were　squabbling　about　trunks。

Mr。　Perry　suddenly　stood　upright　as　a　group　of　women　passed。

〃Do　you　know　who　that　girl　is？〃　he　said　eagerly。　　〃The　one　who　looked　back　at　us　over　her　shoulder。〃

〃No。　　They　are　only　a　lot　of　school…girls；　personally　conducted。　　That　is　the　teacher　in　front。〃　〃Of　course；　I　see　that。　　But　the　short；　dark　onesurely　I　know　that　woman。〃

The　doctor　looked　after　her。　　〃She　looks　like　a　dog　turning　into　a　human　being；〃　he　said　leisurely。　　〃One　often　sees　such　cases　of　arrested　evolution。　　D'ye　see？　　Thick　lips；　coarse　curls；　flat　nostrils〃

Perry　laughed。　　〃The　eyes；　anyhow；　are　quite　human；〃　he　said。　　〃They　challenge　the　whole　world　of　men。　　I　can't　place　her！〃　staring　after　her；　perplexed。　　〃I　really　don't　believe　I　ever　saw　her　before。　　Yet　her　face　brings　up　some　old　story　of　a　tragedy　or　crime　to　me。〃

〃Nonsense！　　The　girl　is　not　twenty。　　Very　fetching　with　all　her　vulgarity；　though。　　Steward；　send　some　coffee　to　my　stateroom。　　Let's　go　down；　Jem。　　The　fog　is　too　chilly。〃

Frances　Waldeaux　did　not　find　the　fog　chilly。　　She　had　been　thinking　for　thirty　years　of　the　day　when　she　should　start　to　Europeever　since　she　could　think　at　all。

This　was　the　day。　　It　was　like　no　other；　now　that　it　had　come。　　The　fog；　the　crowd；　the　greasy　smells　of　the　pier；　all　familiar　enough　yesterday；　took　on　a　certain　remoteness　and　mystery。　　It　seemed　to　her　that　she　was　doing　something　which　nobody　had　ever　done　before。　　She　was　going　to　discover　the　Old　World。

The　New　was　not　more　tremendous　or　unreal　before　the　eyes　of　Columbus　when　he；　too；　stood　on　the　poop　of　his　ship。

Her　son　was　arguing　with　the　deck　steward　about　chairs。

〃Now；　mother；〃　he　said　at　last；　〃it's　all　right。　　They　are　under　cover　so　that　the　glare　will　not　strain　your　eyes；　and　we　can　keep　dry　while　we　watch　the　storms。〃

〃How　did　you　know　about　it　all？　　One　would　think　you　had　crossed　a　dozen　times；　George。〃

〃Oh；　I've　studied　the　whole　thing　up　thoroughly；〃　George　said；　with　a　satisfied　little　nod。　　〃I've　had　time　enough！　　Why；　when　I　was　in　petticoats　you　used　to　tell　me　you　would　buy　a　ship　and　we　would　sail　away　together。　　You　used　to　spoil　all　my　school　maps　with　red　lines；　drawing　our　routes。〃

〃Yes。　　And　now　we're　going！〃　said　Frances　to　herself。

He　sat　down　beside　her　and　they　watched　the　unending　procession　of　passengers　marching　around　the　deck。　　George　called　her　attention　by　a　wink　to　any　picturesque　or　queer　figure　that　passed。　　He　liked　to　watch　her　quiet　brown　eyes　gleam　with　fun。　　Nobody　had　such　a　keen　sense　of　the　ridiculous　as　his　mother。　　Sometimes；　at　the　mere　remembrance　of　some　absurd　idea；　she　would　go　off　into　soft　silent　paroxysms　of　laughter　until　the　tears　would　stream　down　her　cheeks。

George　was　fond　and　proud　of　his　childish　little　mother。　　He　had　never　known　any　body；　he　thought；　so　young　or　so　transparent。　　It　was　easily　understood。　　She　had　married　at　sixteen；　and　had　been　left　a　widow　little　more　than　a　year　afterward。　　〃And　I；〃　he　used　to　think；　〃was　born　with　an　old　head　on　my　shoulders；　so　we　have　grown　up　together。　　I　suppose　the　dear　soul　never　had　a　thought　in　her　life　which　she　has　not　told　me。〃

As　they　sat　together　a　steward　brought　Mrs。　Waldeaux　a　note；　which　she　read；　blushing　and　smiling。

〃The　captain　invites　us　to　sit　at　his　table；〃　she　said；　when　the　man　was　gone。

〃Very　proper　in　the　captain；〃　said　George　complacently。　　〃You　see；　Madam　Waldeaux；　even　the　men　who　go　down　in　ships　have　heard　of　you　and　your　family！〃

〃I　don't　believe　the　captain　ever　heard　of　me；〃　she　said；　after　a　grave　consideration；〃　nor　of　the　Waldeaux。　　It　is　much　more　likely　that　he　has　read　your　article　in　the　Quarterly；　George。〃

〃Nonsense！〃　　But　he　stiffened　himself　up　consciously。

He　had　sent　a　paper　on　some　abstruse　point　of　sociology　to　the　Quarterly　last　spring；　and　it　had　aroused　quite　a　little　buzz　of　criticism。　　His　mother　had　regarded　it　very　much　as　the　Duchess　of　Kent　did　the　crown　when　it　was　set　upon　her　little　girl's　head。　　She　always　had　known　that　her　child　was　born　to　reign；　but　it　was　satisfactory　to　see　this　visible　sign　of　it。

She　whispered　now；　eagerly　leaning　over　to　him。　　〃There　was　something　about　that　paper　which　I　never　told　you。　　I　think　I'll　tell　you　now　that　the　great　day　has　come。〃

〃Well？〃

〃Why；　you　knowI　never　think　of　you　as　my　son；　or　a　man；　or　anything　outside　of　menot　at　all。　　You　are　just　ME；　doing　the　things　I　should　have　done　if　I　had　not　been　a　woman。　　Well；〃she　drew　her　breath　quickly；〃when　I　was　a　girl　it　seemed　as　if　there　was　something　in　me　that　I　must　say；　so　I　tried　to　write　poems。　　No；　I　never　told　you　before。　　It　had　counted　for　so　much　to　me　I　could　not　talk　of　it。　　I　always　sent　them　to　the　paper　anonymously；　signed　‘Sidney。'　　Oh；　it　was　longlong　ago！　　I've　been　dumb；　as　you　might　say；　for　years。　　But　when　I　read　your　article；　Georgedo　you　know　if　I　had　written　it　I　should　have　used　just　the　phrases　you　did？　　And　you　signed　it　‘Sidney'！〃　　She　watched　him　breathlessly。　　〃That　was　more　than　a　coincidence；　don't　you　think？　I　AM　dumb；　but　you　speak　for　me　now。　　It　is　because　we　are　just　one。　　Don't　you　think　so；　George？〃　　She　held　his　arm　tightly。

Young　Waldeaux　burst　into　a　loud　laugh。　　Then　he　took　her　hand　in　his；　stroking　it。　　〃You　dear　little　woman！　　What　do　you　know　of　sociology？〃　he　said；　and　then　walked　away　to　hide　his　amusement；　muttering　〃Poems？　　Great　Heavens！〃

Frances　looked　after　him　steadily。　　〃Oh；　well！〃　she　said　to　herself　presently。

She　forced　her　mind　back　to　the　Quarterly　article。　　It　was　a　beginning　of　just　the　kind　of　triumph　that　she　always　had　expected　for　him。　　He　would　soon　be　recognized　by　scientific　men　all　over　the　world　as　their　confrere；　especially　after　his　year's　study　at　Oxford。

When　George　was　in　his　cradle　she　had　planned　that　he　should　be　a　clergyman；　just　as　she　had　planned　that　he　should　be　a　well…bred　man；　and　she　had　fitted　him　for　both　roles　in　life；　and　urged　him　into　them　by　the　same　unceasing　soft　pats　and　pushes。　　She　would　be　delighted　when　she　saw　him　in　white　robes　serving　at　the　altar。

Not　that　Frances　had　ever　taken　her　religion　quite　seriously。　　It　was　like　her　gowns；　or　her　education；　a　matter　of　course；　a　trustworthy；　agreeable　part　of　her。　　She　had　never　once　in　her　life　shuddered　at　a　glimpse　of　any　vice　in　herself；　or　cried　to　God　in　agony；　even　to　grant　her　a　wish。

But　she　knew　that　Robert　Waldeaux's　son　would　be　safer　in　the　pulpit。　　He　could　take　rank　with　scholars　there；　too。

She　inspected　him　now　anxiously；　trying　to　see　him　with　the　eyes　of　these　Oxford　magnates。　　Nobody　would　guess　that　he　was　only　twenty…two。　　The　bald　spot　on　his　crown　and　the　spectacles　gave　him　a　scholastic　air；　and　the　finely　cut　features　and　a　cold　aloofness　in　his　manner　spoke　plainly；　she　thought；　of　his　good　descent　and　high　pursuits。

Frances　herself　had　a　drop　of　vagabond　blood　which　found　comrades　for　her　among　every　class　and　color。　　But　there　was　not　an　atom　of　the　tramp　in　her　son's　well…built　and　fashionably　clothed　body。　　He　never　had　had　a　single　intimate　friend　even　when　he　was　a　boy。　　He　will　probably　find　his　companions　among　the　great　English　scholars；〃　she　thought　complacently。　　Of　course　she　would　always　be　his　only　comrade；　his　chum。　　She　continually　met　and　parted　with　thousands　of　peoplethey　came　and　went。　　〃But　George　and　I　will　be　together　for　all　time；〃　she　told　herself。

He　came　up　presently　and　sat　down　beside　her；　with　an　anxious；　apologetic　air。　　It　hurt　him　to　think　that