The Project Gutenberg eBook ofMiss Cayley's AdventuresThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Miss Cayley's AdventuresAuthor: Grant AllenIllustrator: Gordon BrowneRelease date: January 15, 2010 [eBook #30970]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced fromscanned images of public domain material from the GooglePrint project.*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS CAYLEY'S ADVENTURES ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Miss Cayley's AdventuresAuthor: Grant AllenIllustrator: Gordon BrowneRelease date: January 15, 2010 [eBook #30970]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced fromscanned images of public domain material from the GooglePrint project.
Title: Miss Cayley's Adventures
Author: Grant AllenIllustrator: Gordon Browne
Author: Grant Allen
Illustrator: Gordon Browne
Release date: January 15, 2010 [eBook #30970]
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Annie McGuire. This book was produced fromscanned images of public domain material from the GooglePrint project.
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS CAYLEY'S ADVENTURES ***
Book Cover
A Duet. 6s.
An African Millionaire. 6s.
Linnet. 6s.
True Heart. 6s.
'God Save England!' 6s.
Contraband of War. 6s.
The Yellow Danger. 6s.
The Mayfair Marriage. 6s.
The Wooings of Jezebel Pettyfer. 6s.
Aunt Judith's Island. 6s.
Morgan Hailsham. 6s.
Shanghaied. 3s. 6d.
Convict 99. 3s. 6d.
Michael Dred, Detective. 3s. 6d.
ALL AGOG TO TEACH THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS.—See page 142.ALL AGOG TO TEACH THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS.—See page 142.
Printed April 1899
Reprinted July 1899
IThe Adventure of the Cantankerous Old LadyIIThe Adventure of the SuperciliousAttachéIIIThe Adventure of the Inquisitive AmericanIVThe Adventure of the Amateur Commission AgentVThe Adventure of the Impromptu MountaineerVIThe Adventure of the Urbane Old GentlemanVIIThe Adventure of the Unobtrusive OasisVIIIThe Adventure of the Pea-Green PatricianIXThe Adventure of the Magnificent MaharajahXThe Adventure of the Cross-Eyed Q.C.XIThe Adventure of the Oriental AttendantXIIThe Adventure of the Unprofessional Detective
All agog to teach the higher mathematicsI am going out, simply in search of adventureOui, Madame; Merci Beaucoup, MadameExcuse me, I said, but I think I can see a way out of your difficultyA most urbane and obliging Continental gentlemanPersons of Miladi's temperament are always youngThat succeeds? the shabby-looking man mutteredI put her hand back firmlyHe cast a hasty glance at usHarold, you viper, what do you mean by trying to avoid me?Circumstances alter cases, he murmuredMiss Cayley, he said, you are playing with meI rose of a sudden, and ran down the hillI was going to oppose you and HaroldHe kept close at my heelsI was pulled up short by a mounted policemanSeems I didn't make much of a job of itDon't scorch, miss; don't scorchHow far ahead the first man?I am here behind you, Herr LieutenantLet them boom or bust on itHis open admiration was getting quite embarrassingMinute inspectionI felt a perfect little hypocriteShe invited Elsie and myself to stop with herThe CountI thought it kinder to him to remove it altogetherInch by inch he retreatedNever leave a house to the servants, my dear!I may stay, mayn't I?I advanced on my hands and knees to the edge of the precipiceI gripped the rope and let myself downI rolled and slid downThere's enterprise for youPainting the sign-boardThe urbane old gentlemanHe went on dictating for just an hourHe bowed to us each separatelyI waited breathlessWhat, you here! he criedHe read them, cruel man, before my very eyes'Tis Doctor Macloghlen, he answeredToo much NileEmphasisRiding a camel does not greatly differ from sea-sicknessHer agitation was evidentCrouching by the rocks sat our mysterious strangerAn odd-looking young manHe turned to me with an inane smileNothing seemed to put the man downYah don't catch me going so fah from NewmarketWasn't Fra Diavolo also a composah?Take my word for it, you're staking your money on the wrong fellahI am the Maharajah of MoozuffernuggarWho's your black friend?A tiger-hunt is not a thing to be got up lightlyIt went off unexpectedlyI saw him now the Oriental despotIt's I who am the winnah!He wrote, I expect you to come back to England and marry meIt was endlessly wearisomeThe cross-eyed Q.C. begged him to be very carefulI was a grotesque failureThe jury smiledThe question requires no answer, he saidI reeled where I satThe messenger enteredHe took a long, careless stare at meI beckoned a porterYou can't get out here, he said, crustilyWe told our taleI have found a clueI've held the fort by main forceNever! he answered. Never!We shall have him in our powerVictory!You wished to see me, sir?Well, this is a fair knock-out, he ejaculatedHarold, your wife has bested me
On the day when I found myself with twopence in my pocket, I naturally made up my mind to go round the world.
It was my stepfather's death that drove me to it. I had never seen my stepfather. Indeed, I never even thought of him as anything more than Colonel Watts-Morgan. I owed him nothing, except my poverty. He married my dear mother when I was a girl at school in Switzerland; and he proceeded to spend her little fortune, left at her sole disposal by my father's will, in paying his gambling debts. After that, he carried my dear mother off to Burma; and when he and the climate between them had succeeded in killing her, he made up for his appropriations at the cheapest rate by allowing me just enough to send me to Girton. So, when the Colonel died, in the year I was leaving college, I did not think it necessary to go into mourning for him. Especially as he chose the precise moment when my allowance was due, and bequeathed me nothing but his consolidated liabilities.
'Of course you will teach,' said Elsie Petheridge, whenI explained my affairs to her. 'There is a good demand just now for high-school teachers.'
I looked at her, aghast. 'Teach!Elsie,' I cried. (I had come up to town to settle her in at her unfurnished lodgings.) 'Did you sayteach? That's just like you dear good schoolmistresses! You go to Cambridge, and get examined till the heart and life have been examined out of you; then you say to yourselves at the end of it all, "Let me see; what am I good for now? I'm just about fit to go away and examine other people!" That's what our Principal would call "a vicious circle"—if one could ever admit there was anything vicious at all aboutyou, dear. No, Elsie, I donotpropose to teach. Nature did not cut me out for a high-school teacher. I couldn't swallow a poker if I tried for weeks. Pokers don't agree with me. Between ourselves, I am a bit of a rebel.'
'You are, Brownie,' she answered, pausing in her papering, with her sleeves rolled up—they called me 'Brownie,' partly because of my dark complexion, but partly because they could never understand me. 'We all knew that long ago.'
I laid down the paste-brush and mused.
'Do you remember, Elsie,' I said, staring hard at the paper-board,' when I first went to Girton, how all you girls wore your hair quite straight, in neat smooth coils, plaited up at the back about the size of a pancake; and how of a sudden I burst in upon you, like a tropical hurricane, and demoralised you; and how, after three days of me, some of the dear innocents began with awe to cut themselves artless fringes, while others went out in fear and trembling and surreptitiously purchased a pair of curling-tongs? I was a bomb-shell in your midst in those days; why, you yourself were almost afraid at first to speak to me.'
'You see, you had a bicycle,' Elsie put in, smoothing the half-papered wall; 'and in those days, of course, ladies didn't bicycle. You must admit, Brownie, dear, itwasa startling innovation. You terrified us so. And yet, after all, there isn't much harm in you.'
'I hope not,' I said devoutly. 'I was before my time, that was all; at present, even a curate's wife may blamelessly bicycle.'
'But if you don't teach,' Elsie went on, gazing at me with those wondering big blue eyes of hers, 'whatever will you do, Brownie?' Her horizon was bounded by the scholastic circle.
'I haven't the faintest idea,' I answered, continuing to paste. 'Only, as I can't trespass upon your elegant hospitality for life, whatever I mean to do, I must begin doing this morning, when we've finished the papering. I couldn't teach' (teaching, like mauve, is the refuge of the incompetent); 'and I don't, if possible, want to sell bonnets.'
'As a milliner's girl?' Elsie asked, with a face of red horror.
'As a milliner's girl; why not? 'Tis an honest calling. Earls' daughters do it now. But you needn't look so shocked. I tell you, just at present, I am not contemplating it.'
'Then whatdoyou contemplate?'
I paused and reflected. 'I am here in London,' I answered, gazing rapt at the ceiling; 'London, whose streets are paved with gold—though itlooksat first sight like muddy flagstones; London, the greatest and richest city in the world, where an adventurous soul ought surely to find some loophole for an adventure. (That piece is hung crooked, dear; we shall have to take it down again.) I devise a Plan, therefore. I submit myself to fate; or, if youprefer it, I leave my future in the hands of Providence. I shall stroll out this morning, as soon as I've "cleaned myself," and embrace the first stray enterprise that offers. Our Bagdad teems with enchanted carpets. Let one but float my way, and, hi, presto, I seize it. I go where glory or a modest competence waits me. I snatch at the first offer, the first hint of an opening.'
Elsie stared at me, more aghast and more puzzled than ever. 'But, how?' she asked. 'Where? When? Youareso strange! What will you do to find one?'
'Put on my hat and walk out,' I answered. 'Nothing could be simpler. This city bursts with enterprises and surprises. Strangers from east and west hurry through it in all directions. Omnibuses traverse it from end to end—even, I am told, to Islington and Putney; within, folk sit face to face who never saw one another before in their lives, and who may never see one another again, or, on the contrary, may pass the rest of their days together.'
I had a lovely harangue all pat in my head, in much the same strain, on the infinite possibilities of entertaining angels unawares, in cabs, on the Underground, in the aërated bread shops; but Elsie's widening eyes of horror pulled me up short like a hansom in Piccadilly when the inexorable upturned hand of the policeman checks it. 'Oh, Brownie,' she cried, drawing back, 'youdon'tmean to tell me you're going to ask the first young man you meet in an omnibus to marry you?'
I AM GOING OUT, SIMPLY IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURE.I AM GOING OUT, SIMPLY IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURE.
I shrieked with laughter, 'Elsie,' I cried, kissing her dear yellow little head, 'you areimpayable. You never will learn what I mean. You don't understand the language. No, no; I am going out, simply in search of adventure. What adventure may come, I have not at this moment the faintest conception. The fun lies in the search, the uncertainty, thetoss-up of it. What is the good of being penniless—with the trifling exception of twopence—unless you are prepared to accept your position in the spirit of a masked ball at Covent Garden?'
'I have never been to one,' Elsie put in.
'Gracious heavens, neither have I! What on earth do you take me for? But I mean to see where fate will lead me.'
'I may go with you?' Elsie pleaded.
'Certainlynot, my child,' I answered—she was threeyears older than I, so I had the right to patronise her. 'That would spoil all. Your dear little face would be quite enough to scare away a timid adventure.' She knew what I meant. It was gentle and pensive, but it lacked initiative.
So, when we had finished that wall, I popped on my best hat, and popped out by myself into Kensington Gardens.
I am told I ought to have been terribly alarmed at the straits in which I found myself—a girl of twenty-one, alone in the world, and only twopence short of penniless, without a friend to protect, a relation to counsel her. (I don't count Aunt Susan, who lurked in ladylike indigence at Blackheath, and whose counsel, like her tracts, was given away too profusely to everybody to allow of one's placing any very high value upon it.) But, as a matter of fact, I must admit I was not in the least alarmed. Nature had endowed me with a profusion of crisp black hair, and plenty of high spirits. If my eyes had been like Elsie's—that liquid blue which looks out upon life with mingled pity and amazement—I might have felt as a girl ought to feel under such conditions; but having large dark eyes, with a bit of a twinkle in them, and being as well able to pilot a bicycle as any girl of my acquaintance, I have inherited or acquired an outlook on the world which distinctly leans rather towards cheeriness than despondency. I croak with difficulty. So I accepted my plight as an amusing experience, affording full scope for the congenial exercise of courage and ingenuity.
How boundless are the opportunities of Kensington Gardens—the Round Pond, the winding Serpentine, the mysterious seclusion of the Dutch brick Palace! Genii swarm there. One jostles possibilities. It is a land of romance, bounded on the north by the Abyss of Bayswater, and on the south by the Amphitheatre of the Albert Hall. But for a centre of adventure I choose the Long Walk; itbeckoned me somewhat as the North-West Passage beckoned my seafaring ancestors—the buccaneering mariners of Elizabethan Devon. I sat down on a chair at the foot of an old elm with a poetic hollow, prosaically filled by a utilitarian plate of galvanised iron. Two ancient ladies were seated on the other side already—very grand-looking dames, with the haughty and exclusive ugliness of the English aristocracy in its later stages. For frank hideousness, commend me to the noble dowager. They were talking confidentially as I sat down; the trifling episode of my approach did not suffice to stem the full stream of their conversation. The great ignore the intrusion of their inferiors.
OUI, MADAME; MERCI BEAUCOUP, MADAME.OUI, MADAME; MERCI BEAUCOUP, MADAME.
'Yes, it's a terrible nuisance,' the eldest and ugliest of the two observed—she was a high-born lady, with a distinctly cantankerous cast of countenance. She had a Roman nose, and her skin was wrinkled like a wilted apple; she wore coffee-coloured point-lace in her bonnet, with a complexion to match. 'But what could I do, my dear? I simplycouldn'tput up with such insolence. So I looked her straight back in the face—oh, she quailed, I can tell you; and I said to her, in my iciest voice—you know how icy I can be when occasion demands it'—the second old lady nodded an ungrudging assent, as if perfectly prepared to admit her friend's rare gift of iciness—'I said to her, "Célestine, you can take your month's wages, and half an hour to get out of this house." And she dropped me a deep reverence, and she answered: "Oui, madame; merci beaucoup, madame; je ne desire pas mieux, madame." And out she flounced. So there was the end of it.'
'Still, you go to Schlangenbad on Monday?'
'That's the point. On Monday. If it weren't for the journey, I should have been glad enough to be rid of the minx. I'm glad as it is, indeed; for a more insolent, upstanding,independent, answer-you-back-again young woman, with a sneer of her own,Inever saw, Amelia—but Imustget to Schlangenbad. Now, there the difficulty comes in. On the one hand, if I engage a maid in London, I have the choice of two evils. Either I must take a trapesing English girl—and I know by experience that an English girl on the Continent is a vast deal worse than no maid at all:youhave to wait uponher, instead of her waiting upon you; she gets seasick on the crossing, and when she reaches France or Germany, she hates the meals, and she detests the hotelservants, and she can't speak the language, so that she's always calling you in to interpret for her in her private differences with thefille-de-chambreand the landlord; or else I must pick up a French maid in London, and I know equally by experience that the French maids one engages in London are invariably dishonest—more dishonest than the rest even; they've come here because they have no character to speak of elsewhere, and they think you aren't likely to write and enquire of their last mistress in Toulouse or St. Petersburg. Then, again, on the other hand, I can't wait to get a Gretchen, an unsophisticated little Gretchen of the Taunus at Schlangenbad— I suppose thereareunsophisticated girls in Germany still—made in Germany—they don't make 'em any longer in England, I'm sure—like everything else, the trade in rustic innocence has been driven from the country. I can't wait to get a Gretchen, as I should like to do, of course, because I simplydaren'tundertake to cross the Channel alone and go all that long journey by Ostend or Calais, Brussels and Cologne, to Schlangenbad.'
'You could get a temporary maid,' her friend suggested, in a lull of the tornado.
The Cantankerous Old Lady flared up. 'Yes, and have my jewel-case stolen! Or find she was an English girl without one word of German. Or nurse her on the boat when I want to give my undivided attention to my own misfortunes. No, Amelia, I call it positively unkind of you to suggest such a thing. You'resounsympathetic! I put my foot down there. I willnottake any temporary person.'
I saw my chance. This was a delightful idea. Why not start for Schlangenbad with the Cantankerous Old Lady?
Of course, I had not the slightest intention of taking a lady's-maid's place for a permanency. Nor even, if it comesto that, as a passing expedient. ButifI wanted to go round the world, how could I do better than set out by the Rhine country? The Rhine leads you on to the Danube, the Danube to the Black Sea, the Black Sea to Asia; and so, by way of India, China, and Japan, you reach the Pacific and San Francisco; whence one returns quite easily by New York and the White Star Liners. I began to feel like a globe-trotter already; the Cantankerous Old Lady was the thin end of the wedge—the first rung of the ladder! I proceeded to put my foot on it.
EXCUSE ME, I SAID, BUT I THINK I SEE A WAY OUT OF YOUR DIFFICULTY.EXCUSE ME, I SAID, BUT I THINK I SEE A WAY OUT OF YOUR DIFFICULTY.
I leaned around the corner of the tree and spoke.'Excuse me,' I said, in my suavest voice, 'but I think I see a way out of your difficulty.'
My first impression was that the Cantankerous Old Lady would go off in a fit of apoplexy. She grew purple in the face with indignation and astonishment, that a casual outsider should venture to address her; so much so, indeed, that for a second I almost regretted my well-meant interposition. Then she scanned me up and down, as if I were a girl in a mantle shop, and she contemplated buying either me or the mantle. At last, catching my eye, she thought better of it, and burst out laughing.
'What do you mean by this eavesdropping?' she asked.
I flushed up in turn. 'This is a public place,' I replied, with dignity; 'and you spoke in a tone which was hardly designed for the strictest privacy. If you don't wish to be overheard, you oughtn't to shout. Besides, I desired to do you a service.'
The Cantankerous Old Lady regarded me once more from head to foot. I did not quail. Then she turned to her companion. 'The girl has spirit,' she remarked, in an encouraging tone, as if she were discussing some absent person. 'Upon my word, Amelia, I rather like the look of her. Well, my good woman, what do you want to suggest to me?'
'Merely this,' I replied, bridling up and crushing her. 'I am a Girton girl, an officer's daughter, no more a good woman than most others of my class; and I have nothing in particular to do for the moment. I don't object to going to Schlangenbad. I would convoy you over, as companion, or lady-help, or anything else you choose to call it; I would remain with you there for a week, till you could arrange with your Gretchen, presumably unsophisticated; and then I would leave you. Salary is unimportant; my fare suffices.I accept the chance as a cheap opportunity of attaining Schlangenbad.'
The yellow-faced old lady put up her long-handled tortoise-shell eyeglasses and inspected me all over again. 'Well, I declare,' she murmured. 'What are girls coming to, I wonder? Girton, you say; Girton! That place at Cambridge! You speak Greek, of course; but how about German?'
'Like a native,' I answered, with cheerful promptitude. 'I was at school in Canton Berne; it is a mother tongue to me.'
'No, no,' the old lady went on, fixing her keen small eyes on my mouth. 'Those little lips could never frame themselves to "schlecht" or "wunderschön"; they were not cut out for it.'
'Pardon me,' I answered, in German. 'What I say, that I mean. The never-to-be-forgotten music of the Fatherland's-speech has on my infant ear from the first-beginning impressed itself.'
The old lady laughed aloud.
'Don't jabber it to me, child,' she cried. 'I hate the lingo. It's the one tongue on earth that even a pretty girl's lips fail to render attractive. You yourself make faces over it. What's your name, young woman?'
'Lois Cayley.'
'Lois!Whata name! I never heard of any Lois in my life before, except Timothy's grandmother.You'renot anybody's grandmother, are you?'
'Not to my knowledge,' I answered, gravely.
She burst out laughing again.
'Well, you'll do, I think,' she said, catching my arm. 'That big mill down yonder hasn't ground the originality altogether out of you. I adore originality. It was cleverof you to catch at the suggestion of this arrangement. Lois Cayley, you say; any relation of a madcap Captain Cayley whom I used once to know, in the Forty-second Highlanders?'
'His daughter,' I answered, flushing. For I was proud of my father.
'Ha! I remember; he died, poor fellow; he was a good soldier—and his'—I felt she was going to say 'his fool of a widow,' but a glance from me quelled her; 'his widow went and married that good-looking scapegrace, Jack Watts-Morgan. Never marry a man, my dear, with a double-barrelled name and no visible means of subsistence; above all, if he's generally known by a nickname. So you're poor Tom Cayley's daughter, are you? Well, well, we can settle this little matter between us. Mind, I'm a person who always expects to have my own way. If you come withmeto Schlangenbad, you must do as I tell you.'
'IthinkI could manage it—for a week,' I answered, demurely.
She smiled at my audacity. We passed on to terms. They were quite satisfactory. She wanted no references. 'Do I look like a woman who cares about a reference? What are calledcharactersare usually essays in how not to say it. You take my fancy; that's the point! And poor Tom Cayley! But, mind, I willnotbe contradicted.'
'I will not contradict your wildest misstatement,' I answered, smiling.
'Andyour name and address?' I asked, after we had settled preliminaries.
A faint red spot rose quaintly in the centre of the Cantankerous Old Lady's sallow cheek. 'My dear,' she murmured, 'my name is the one thing on earth I'm really ashamed of. My parents chose to inflict upon me the mostodious label that human ingenuity ever devised for a Christian soul; and I've not had courage enough to burst out and change it.'
A gleam of intuition flashed across me, 'You don't mean to say,' I exclaimed, 'that you're called Georgina?'
The Cantankerous Old Lady gripped my arm hard. 'What an unusually intelligent girl!' she broke in. 'How on earth did you guess? ItisGeorgina.'
'Fellow-feeling,' I answered. 'So is mine, Georgina Lois. But as I quite agree with you as to the atrocity of such conduct, I have suppressed the Georgina. It ought to be made penal to send innocent girls into the world so burdened.'
'My opinion to a T! You are really an exceptionally sensible young woman. There's my name and address; I start on Monday.'
I glanced at her card. The very copperplate was noisy. 'Lady Georgina Fawley, 49 Fortescue Crescent, W.'
It had taken us twenty minutes to arrange our protocols. As I walked off, well pleased, Lady Georgina's friend ran after me quickly.
'You must take care,' she said, in a warning voice. 'You've caught a Tartar.'
'So I suspect,' I answered. 'But a week in Tartary will be at least an experience.'
'She has an awful temper.'
'That's nothing. So have I. Appalling, I assure you. And if it comes to blows, I'm bigger and younger and stronger than she is.'
'Well, I wish you well out of it.'
'Thank you. It is kind of you to give me this warning. But I think I can take care of myself. I come, you see, of a military family.'
I nodded my thanks, and strolled back to Elsie's. Dear little Elsie was in transports of surprise when I related my adventure.
'Will you really go? And what will you do, my dear, when you get there?'
'I haven't a notion,' I answered; 'that's where the fun comes in. But, anyhow, I shall have got there.'
'Oh, Brownie, you might starve!'
'And I might starve in London. In either place, I have only two hands and one head to help me.'
'But, then, here you are among friends. You might stop with me for ever.'
I kissed her fluffy forehead. 'You good, generous little Elsie,' I cried; 'I won't stop here one moment after I have finished the painting and papering. I came here to help you. I couldn't go on eating your hard-earned bread and doing nothing. I know how sweet you are; but the last thing I want is to add to your burdens. Now let us roll up our sleeves again and hurry on with the dado.'
'But, Brownie, you'll want to be getting your own things ready. Remember, you're off to Germany on Monday.'
I shrugged my shoulders. 'Tis a foreign trick I picked up in Switzerland. 'What have I got to get ready?' I asked. 'I can't go out and buy a complete summer outfit in Bond Street for twopence. Now, don't look at me like that: be practical, Elsie, and let me help you paint the dado.' For unless I helped her, poor Elsie could never have finished it herself. I cut out half her clothes for her; her own ideas were almost entirely limited to differential calculus. And cutting out a blouse by differential calculus is weary, uphill work for a high-school teacher.
By Monday I had papered and furnished the rooms, and was ready to start on my voyage of exploration. I metthe Cantankerous Old Lady at Charing Cross, by appointment, and proceeded to take charge of her luggage and tickets.
Oh my, how fussy she was! 'You will drop that basket! I hope you have got through tickets,viâMalines,notby Brussels— I won't go by Brussels. You have to change there. Now, mind you notice how much the luggage weighs in English pounds, and make the man at the office give you a note of it to check those horrid Belgian porters. They'll charge you for double the weight, unless you reduce it at once to kilogrammes.Iknow their ways. Foreigners have no consciences. They just go to the priest and confess, you know, and wipe it all out, and start fresh again on a career of crime next morning. I'm sure I don't know why Ievergo abroad. The only country in the world fit to live in is England. No mosquitoes, no passports, no—goodness gracious, child, don't let that odious man bang about my hat-box! Have you no immortal soul, porter, that you crush other people's property as if it was blackbeetles? No, I will not let you take this, Lois; this is my jewel-box—it contains all that remains of the Fawley family jewels. I positively decline to appear at Schlangenbad without a diamond to my back. This never leaves my hands. It's hard enough nowadays to keep body and skirt together.Haveyou secured thatcoupéat Ostend?'