IV
STEAMER LIFE
And after that, it was "My grandson, Thomas," on all occasions, the oldgentleman introducing the boy to the right and to the left, as heparaded the deck, his old arm within the younger one. And the little,sharp black eyes snapped proudly and the white head was held up, as helaughed and chattered away sociably to the passengers and the ship'screw, at every good opportunity.
"Yes, my grandson, Thomas, is going back to school. We've been runningabout in your country a bit, and the boy's mother went home first withthe other children--" Polly heard him say as the two paused in front ofher steamer chair.
"Indeed!" ejaculated Mrs. Vanderburgh, as he addressed her, and raisingher eyebrows with a supercilious glance for his plain, unprepossessingappearance. "Yes, Madam, and glad shall I be to set my foot on OldEngland again Hey, Tom, my boy, don't you say so?"
Tom looked off over the sea, but did not speak.
Neither did Mrs. Vanderburgh answer, but turned her face away indisdain that was very plainly marked.
"Home is the best place, Madam," declared old Mr. Selwyn emphatically."Well, Old England is our home, and nothing will induce me to leave itagain, I can assure you."
Again Mrs. Vanderburgh did not reply, but looked him up and down incold silence. Old Mr. Selwyn, not appearing to notice, chattered on. Atlast she deliberately turned her back on him.
"Isn't he common and horrid?" whispered Fanny Vanderburgh, in thesteamer chair next to Polly, thrusting her face in between her and herbook. And she gave a little giggle.
"Hush!" said Polly, warningly, "he will hear you."
"Nonsense--it's impossible; he is rattling on so; and do look atMamma's face!"
He didn't hear, but Tom did; and he flashed a glance--dark andwrathful--over at the two girls, and started forward, abruptly pullinghis Grandfather along.
"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly, in distress, dropping her book in herlap; "now he _has_ heard."
"Oh, that dreadful boy," said Fanny, carelessly, stretching out in hersteamer chair comfortably; "well, who cares? he's worse than hisGrandfather."
"Yes, he has heard," repeated Polly, sorrowfully looking after the two,Tom still propelling the old gentleman along the deck at a lively rate;"now, what shall we do?"
"It isn't of the least consequence if he has heard," reiterated Fanny,"and Mamma has been frightfully bored, I know. Do tell us, Mamma," shecalled.
Mrs. Vanderburgh turned away from the rail, where she had paused in herconstitutional when addressed by the old gentleman, and came up to thegirls.
"Do sit down, Mamma, in your steamer chair," begged Fanny; "I'll tuckyou up in your rug." And she jumped lightly out of her own chair."There, that's nice," as Mrs. Vanderburgh sank gracefully down, andFanny patted and pulled the rug into shape. "Now tell us, wasn't he themost horrible old bore?"
As she cuddled back into her own nest, Mrs. Vanderburgh laughed in avery high-bred manner. "He was very amusing," she said.
"Amusing! I should say so!" cried Fanny. "I suppose he would have toldyou all his family history if he had stayed. O dear me, he is such acommon, odious old person."
Polly twisted uneasily under her rug.
Mrs. Vanderburgh glanced into the steamer chair on the other side. Ithad several books on top of the rug. "I don't believe he can take thatseat," she said; "still, Fanny, I think it would be well for you tochange into it, for that old man may take it into his head, when hemakes the turn of the deck, to drop into it and give us the whole ofhis family history."
"Horrors!" ejaculated Fanny, hopping out of her chair again. "I'll makesure that he doesn't. And yet I did so want to sit next to PollyPepper," she mourned, ensconcing herself under the neighbouring rug,and putting the books on the floor by her side.
"Don't do that; give them to me," said her mother; "I'll put them inyour chair unless Miss Polly will take that place, only I don't like todisturb you, dear," she said with a sweet smile at Polly.
"Why, that would make matters' worse, Mamma," said Fanny. "Don't yousee, then, that old bore would put himself into Polly's chair, for helikes her, anyway. Do leave it as it is."
So Mrs. Vanderburgh smiled again. "I don't know but that you areright," she said, and leaned back her head restfully. "Dear me, yes, he_is_ amusing."
"They are terribly common people," said Fanny, her aristocratic nosewell in the air, "aren't they, Mamma? And did you ever see such aclumsy thing as that dreadful boy, and such big hands and feet?" Sheheld up her own hands as she spoke, and played with her rings, and letthe jingling bracelets run up and down her wrists.
"Fanny, how often must I tell you to wear gloves on shipboard?" saidher mother, in a tone of reproof. "Nothing spoils the hands so much asa trip at sea. They won't get over it all summer; they're coarsenedalready," and she cast an alarmed glance at the long, slender fingers.
"I'm so tired of gloves, Mamma." Fanny gave a restful yawn. "PollyPepper doesn't wear them," she cried triumphantly, peering past hermother to point to Polly's hands.
Mrs. Vanderburgh hesitated. It wouldn't do to say anything that wouldreflect against the Peppers--manners, or customs, or bringing upgenerally. So she leaned over and touched Polly's fingers with her owngloved ones.
"You don't wear gloves, do you, my dear?" she said, in gentle surprise,quite as if the idea had just struck her for the first time.
"No, Mrs. Vanderburgh, I don't," said Polly, "at least not onshipboard, unless it is cold."
"There, now, Mamma," laughed Fanny, in a pleased way; "you'll stopteasing me about wearing them, I'm sure."
Mrs. Vanderburgh turned and surveyed her daughter; but she didn'tsmile, and Fanny thought it as well to begin again on the old topic.
"They're awfully common people, aren't they, Mamma,--those Selwyns?"
"They are, indeed," replied Mrs. Vanderburgh, "quite commonplace, andexceedingly tiresome; be sure and not speak to them, Fanny."
"Trust me for that," said Fanny, with a wise little nod. "The old manstopped me and asked me something this morning, as I was coming out ofthe dining room, after breakfast, but I pretended I didn't hear, and Iskipped upstairs and almost fell on my nose."
"You were fortunate to escape," said her mother, with a little laugh."Well, let us drop the subject and talk of something else much moreimportant. Polly, my dear." She turned again and surveyed the younggirl at her side. "You are coming home this autumn, aren't you?"
"Oh, no," said Polly, "Grandpapa expects to stay over in Europe a year."
"Is that so?" said Mrs. Vanderburgh, and her face fell; "I regret itexceedingly, for I should be glad if you would visit Fanny this winterin New York."
"Thank you; but I couldn't anyway," said Polly. Then the colour flew upto her cheek. "I mean I am in school, you know, Mrs. Vanderburgh, but Ithank you, and it is so good of you to want me," she added, hurriedly,feeling that she hadn't said the right thing at all.
"I do want you very much, my dear child," said Mrs. Vanderburgh, "and Iam very sorry you are to remain abroad over the winter, for yourGrandfather would be persuaded, I feel quite sure, to have you leaveschool for a while, and come to us for a visit."
"Oh, no, he wouldn't," cried Polly, quickly. "I beg pardon, Mrs.Vanderburgh, but I never leave school for anything unless I am sick,and I am almost never sick."
"Well, then, you could come for the Christmas holidays," said Mrs.Vanderburgh, with ladylike obstinacy like one accustomed to carryingher point.
"The Christmas holidays!" exclaimed Polly, starting forward in herchair. "Oh, I wouldn't leave home for anything, then, Mrs. Vanderburgh.Why, we have the most beautiful times, and we are all together--theboys come home from school--and it's just too lovely for anything!" Sheclasped her hands and sighed--oh, if she could but see Ben and Joel andDavid but once!
Mrs. Vanderburgh was a very tall woman, and she gazed down into theradiant face, without speaking; Polly was looking off over the sea, andthe colour came and went on her cheek.
"We would soon get her out
of all such notions, if we once had her withus, wouldn't we, Mamma?" said Fanny, in a low tone close to hermother's ear.
Mrs. Vanderburgh gave her a warning pinch, but Polly's brown eyes werefastened on the distant horizon, and she hadn't heard a word.
"Well, we'll arrange it sometime," said Fanny's mother, breaking thesilence; "so you must remember, Polly dear, that you are engaged to usfor a good long visit when you do come home."
"I will tell Grandpapa that you asked me," said Polly, bringing hereyes back with a sigh to look into Mrs. Vanderburgh's face.
"Oh, he will fall into the plan quite readily, I think," said Mrs.Vanderburgh, lightly. "You know we are all very old friends--that is,the families are--Mr. Vanderburgh's father and Mr. King were veryintimate. Perhaps you don't know, Polly,"--and Fanny's mamma drewherself up to her extreme height; it was impossible for her to lollback in her chair when talking of her family,--"that we are related tothe Earl of Cavendish who owns the old estate in England, and we goback to William the Conqueror; that is, Fanny does on her father'sside."
Fanny thereupon came up out of her chair depths to sit quite straightand gaze with importance at Polly's face. But Polly was still thinkingof the boys, and she said nothing.
"And my family is just as important," said Mrs. Vanderburgh, and shesmiled in great satisfaction. "Really, we could make things verypleasant for you, my child; our set is so exclusive, you could notpossibly meet any one but the very best people. Oh, here is yourmother." She smiled enchantingly up at Mrs. Fisher, and held out herhand. "Do come and sit here with us, my dear Mrs. Fisher," she begged,"then we shall be a delightful group, we two mothers and our daughters."
"Thank you, Mrs. Vanderburgh." Mrs. Fisher smiled, but she didn't offerto take the steamer chair. "I have come after Polly."
"Mamsie, what is it? I'll come," said Polly, tumbling out of hersteamer chair in a twinkling.
"O dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Vanderburgh, in regret, "don't take Pollyaway, I do implore you, my dear Mrs. Fisher--I am _so_ fond of her."
"I must," said Mother Fisher, smiling again, her hand now in Polly's,and before any more remonstrances were made, they were off.
"Oh, Mamsie!" breathed Polly, hanging to the dear hand, "I am so gladyou came, and took me away."
"Polly," said Mother Fisher, suddenly, "Grandpapa asked me to find you;he thinks you could cheer old Mr. Selwyn up a bit, perhaps, withbackgammon. I'm afraid Tom has been behaving badly again."
"Oh, Mamsie!" exclaimed Polly, in dismay. And then the story came out.
"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, pulling at his hand gently, as they walkedslowly up and down the deck, "does your head ache?" And she peeredanxiously up into his face.
"No, child--that is, not much," said old Mr. King, trying to smooth hisbrows out. He was thinking--for it kept obtruding at all times andseasons--of that dreadful scrap of paper that Cousin Eunice had imposedupon him at the last minute before they sailed, announcing that she hadhad her way, and would at last compel acceptance of such a gift as shechose to make to Phronsie Pepper.
"If it aches at all," said Phronsie, decidedly, "I wish you would letme rub it for you, Grandpapa. I do, truly."
"Well, it doesn't," said Grandpapa; "that is it won't, now that I haveyou with me. I was thinking of something unpleasant, Phronsie, andthen, to tell you the truth, that old Mr. Selwyn tires me to death. Ican't talk to him, and his grandson is a cad."
"What is a cad?" asked Phronsie, wonderingly.
"Oh, well, a boy who isn't nice," said Mr. King, carelessly.
"Grandpapa, why isn't that boy nice to that poor old man?" askedPhronsie, a grieved look coming into her blue eyes.
"Goodness me, child, you ask me too much," said Mr. King, quickly; "oh,a variety of reasons. Well, we must take things as we find them, and dowhat we can to help matters along; but it seems a hopelesscase,--things were in better shape; and now they seem all tangled upagain, thanks to that boy."
"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, earnestly, "I don't believe that boy meansto be bad to that poor old man, I don't really and truly, Grandpapa,"she added, shaking her head.
"Well, he takes a queer way to show it, if he means to be good," saidold Mr. King, grimly.
"Oh, is that you, Master Tom?" as they turned a corner to findthemselves face to face with Tom Selwyn.
"Mr. King," Tom began very rapidly so that the words ran all over eachother, "I'm no end sorry--don't think hard things of me--it's not myfault this time; Grandfather heard it as well as I--at least, I caughta little and he asked me what it was, and I had to tell him, and itupset him."
Old Mr. King stood gazing into the big boy's face in utterbewilderment. "As I don't know in the least what you are trying to tellme, my boy," at last he said, "I shall have to ask you to repeat it,and go slowly."
So Tom tried again to tell his story, and by the time that it was allout, Mr. King was fuming in righteous indignation.
"Well, well, it's not worth thinking of," at last he said at sight ofthe flashing eyes before him and the angry light on the young face."You take my arm, or I'll take yours, Master Tom,--there, that'sbetter,--and we'll do a bit of a turn on the deck. Your grandfather'llcome out of it, for he's busy over the backgammon board. But it was anugly thing to do just the same."
Just then Mrs. Vanderburgh and Fanny passed them, all sweet smiles forhim and for Phronsie, but with no eyes for the boy.