CHAPTER XI
The Hawtreys were ten days out from England, and were spending the dayin a trip up Lake Lucerne. Not as yet were the great caravansaries thathave well nigh spoiled Lucerne and converted the most picturesque townin Europe into a line of brand new hotels that might just as well be atBrighton, Ostend, or any other watering place, so much as thought of.Not as yet had the whole of the middle class of England discovered thata month on the Continent was one of the necessities of life, nor had thegreat summer invasion from the other side of the Atlantic begun. Suchhotels as existed were, however, crowded when the season was over inLondon, and those who had met so frequently during the last four monthscame across each other at every turn, in steamboats, diligences, and inhotels. Not as yet had the steam whistle seriously invaded Switzerland,and travellers were content to jog quietly along enjoying the beautiesof Nature instead of merely rushing through them from point to point.Mr. Singleton was with the Hawtreys. He had said good-bye when he leftthem on their last evening at home, without a hint of his intention ofaccompanying them, but he was quietly walking up and down the deck ofthe boat at Dover when they went on board.
'Why, there is Mr. Singleton, father,' Dorothy exclaimed in surprise, asher eye fell upon him as she went down the gangway. 'Why, he did not sayanything about coming over when we said good-bye to him last night.'
'Well, my dear,' her godfather said, as he came up to them, 'you did notexpect to see me.'
'No, indeed, Mr. Singleton. Why didn't you say yesterday when we saw youthat you were going across to-day?'
'I don't know that I had quite made up my mind, Dorothy. I had beenthinking about it; but I often think of things and nothing comes of it.After I had left you I thought it over seriously. I had not been abroadfor some years, and I said to myself "If I don't go now I suppose Ishall never go at all. Here is a good opportunity. It is lonely workwhen one gets the wrong side of sixty, to travel alone; at my age onedoes not make acquaintances at every turn, as young fellows do. No doubtI should meet men I know, but, as a rule, people one knows are not sofond of each other's society as they are in London. I think my oldfriend Hawtrey, and my little god-daughter, would not mind putting upwith me, and I can travel with them till they begin to get tired of me,and then jog quietly back my own way."'
'Then you will stop with us all the time, Mr. Singleton. I am delighted,and I am sure father is, too.'
'That I am,' Mr. Hawtrey said heartily, understanding perhaps betterthan Dorothy did why his friend had at the last moment decided to gowith them. 'When did you come down?'
'I came by the same train you did. I came straight on board, for I havebrought my man with me and he is looking after my things. I have gotinto regular old bachelor ways, dear, and am so accustomed to have myhot water brought in of a morning, and my clothes laid out for me, andmy boxes packed and corded, that I should feel like a fish out of waterwithout them.'
'It is your first trip abroad, isn't it? At least, I know you went toParis last year, but I don't think you got any further?'
'No, we stayed there a fortnight, but that was all.'
'Well, you had better take your things down now,' Mr. Hawtrey broke in,'in case you have to lie down. There seems to be a fresh wind blowingoutside.'
'Oh, I don't mean to be ill, father. I think it was a rougher day thanthis last time, and I did not go below. Still, I may as well secure aplace.'
'This is awfully good of you, Singleton,' Mr. Hawtrey said; 'I know youare doing it out of regard for her.'
'A little that way, perhaps, Hawtrey, and a good deal because I am sureI shall enjoy myself greatly. As a rule, I should be very chary ofoffering to join anyone travelling; a third person is often a nuisance,just as much so in travelling as at other times. I own that I don't muchcare for going about by myself, but I thought you really would be gladto have me with you. Dorothy has had so much to try her of late that Ifelt this was really a case where a third person would be of advantage.I can help to keep up conversation and prevent her from thinking andworrying over these things. Besides, there is no doubt you will berunning continually against people you know. The announcement that willappear to-morrow of the breaking off of her engagement will set peopletalking again. It is just one of the things that the last arrival fromEngland will mention, as being the latest bit of society news, and Ithink, somehow, that three people together can face public attentionbetter than two can.'
'Thank you, old friend; it will be better for her in every way. I am nota good hand at making conversation, and it will be the thing of allothers for Dorothy; she always chatters away with you more than withanyone else, and I can assure you that I feel your coming a perfectgod-send. She scarcely said a word coming down this morning, and thoughI tried occasionally to talk about our trip, she only answered with anevident effort. I am afraid it will take some time to get all this outof her mind.'
'It would be strange if it didn't, Hawtrey. For a girl who haspractically never known a care to find herself suddenly suspected andtalked of, first as having compromised herself with some unknown person,and then as being a thief, is enough to give her a tremendous shakingup.
'Then the breaking off of her engagement was another trial. I don't saythat it was the same thing as if she had loved the man with a realearnest love; still, it is a trial for any girl to break off a thing ofthat sort, and to know that it will be a matter of general talk anddiscussion, especially coming at the top of the other business.
'Here she comes again, and looking a hundred per cent. better than shedid before she caught sight of you, Singleton. I shall begin to beveritably jealous of you.'
They had stopped two days in Paris, and as much at Basle, and had nowbeen four days at Lucerne, where they had met many of their own set. Thenews had already been told, and Dorothy was conscious of being regardedwith a certain curiosity at the _table d'hote_ as the girl who had justbroken off a brilliant match, but she betrayed no signs of consciousnessthat she was the object of attention, and those who had been mostintimate with her, and had been inclined to condole with her, felt thatin face of the light-hearted gaiety with which she chatted with herfather and Mr. Singleton, and the brightness of her looks, anything ofthe kind would be out of place.
'She looks quite a different girl to what she did during the season,'one of her acquaintances said to Mrs. Dean, who had arrived at Lucernethe day before the Hawtreys. 'I suppose she never really cared forHalliburn after all. No doubt those curious stories that there wereabout had something to do with the affair being broken off. For my partI think it would have been better taste for her----'
'To have gone about with a long face. I don't agree with you at all,'Mrs. Dean replied warmly. 'I am an old friend of hers and am delightedto see her look so much happier and better. I said a month ago that Ithought the marriage would never come off. I was at a dinner party withthem, and Halliburn was there. If I had been Dorothy Hawtrey I wouldhave given him his _conge_ that evening. His conduct was in the worsttaste. Instead of showing the world how entirely he trusted her and howhe despised these reports, he was so fidgety and irritable that it wasimpossible to avoid noticing it. The man is a peer and a risingpolitician, a clever man and a large landowner, but for all that he isnot a gentleman. I always said that he was not good enough for Dorothy,and I am heartily glad she has broken it off. At any rate, it is quiteevident that she feels no regret about it, whatever was the actual causeof the rupture. She might laugh and talk and try to lookunconcerned--any girl of spirit would do that under thecircumstances--but she couldn't have got her natural colour back againor have made her eyes laugh as well as her lips, unless she had reallyfelt relieved at being free again.'
Mrs. Dean had been a good deal with the Hawtreys during their four daysat Lucerne, and Dorothy had felt her society a great assistance to herin supporting the first brunt of public remark. She was the only personwho had spoken to Dorothy of what all the others were talking about.
They were standing together on the deck of a steamer going up t
he lake,when Mrs. Dean said suddenly,
'I know, Dorothy, you will not mind an old friend speaking to you, and Ireally want to congratulate you heartily on breaking off your match. Idon't know the exact reasons that influenced you, but I am sure that youwere right. I don't think you would ever have been really happy withhim; there would never have been any true sympathy between you. Somewomen could be content with rank and wealth, but I am sure you couldnot.'
'No. I think it was a mistake altogether, Mrs. Dean,' Dorothy saidthoughtfully. 'I did not become engaged to him for that--I mean for rankand wealth. I don't say they did not count for something, but I honestlydid think I liked him, and there was no real reason for its being brokenoff, except that I found that I had made a mistake. I should not say so,of course, to anyone but an old friend like you. I shall never sayanything about it, but let people think what they like; and I know thatyou will never repeat it.'
'Certainly not, Dorothy; but if you don't say it in words I thinkeveryone could see that, at least, there is no regret on your part atthe match being broken off. The wonder won't last long--another week andsomething fresh will be talked of, and by next year the whole affairwill have died away. People have wonderfully short memories in society.Do you know, I rather take credit to myself as a prophetess, for on theevening of that dinner party where I last met you and Halliburntogether, I told Captain Hampton that I didn't think your match wouldever come off. By the bye, what a nice fellow he is. He is wonderfullylittle changed since I knew him as a boy down in Lincolnshire, before hewent into the army. Sometimes boys change so when they become men, thatit is quite a pleasure to meet one who has grown up exactly as you mighthave expected he would do. You saw a good deal of him I believe?'
'Yes, at the beginning of the season. We did not see so much of himafterwards. I don't think he is so little changed as you do.'
Mrs. Dean gave a quick, keen glance at Dorothy, who was looking a littledreamily at the mountains at the head of the lake.
'No?' she said carelessly. 'Well, of course, you knew him better than Idid; he was so often over at your father's. You were but a child thenand I daresay that you endowed him, as most young girls do boys olderthan themselves, with all sorts of impossible qualities.'
'No; I don't know that it was that,' Dorothy said; 'but he seems to meto be changed a good deal in many respects; he was almost like an elderbrother of mine then.'
'Yes, dear, but then, you see, when he came back he found that anotherhad stepped into a much closer place than even an elder brother's, andhe could hardly have assumed his former relationship. These brother andsisterhoods are very nice when the young lady is twelve and the boyeighteen or nineteen, but they are a little difficult to maintain whenthe boy is a man of six-and-twenty and the girl eighteen, and is engagedto somebody else who might, not unreasonably, object to therelationship. A boy and girl friendship is not to be picked up againafter a lapse of six years just where it was dropped; it would be veryridiculous to suppose that it could be so. It seems to me that you havebeen expecting too much from him. For my part I think he has changedvery little.'
'I did not expect anything of him, Mrs. Dean, one way or the other. Ihad often thought of him while he was away, because he was very kind tome in the old days. I used to write to him when he first went out, andhe wrote to me. Of course that dropped. But when he came home, just atfirst, it seemed to me that he was exactly what I expected, though Ifound, in some respects, that he was changed. However, I don't know whywe are talking about him. Captain Hampton has gone to America, Ibelieve, and it is likely enough we may not see him again before he goesback to India.' Then she changed her tone. 'It is rather a sore subjectto me, Mrs. Dean; it is the last of my illusions of childhood gone. Iquite agree with you that it was very foolish of me to think that wecould drop quite into our old relations, especially as things stood, butat least I expected something and was disappointed. He has been verykind and has taken an immense deal of trouble to assist my father to getto the bottom of some of the things that have been troubling us. I havenot the least ground for complaint--on the contrary, I have every reasonto be grateful to him; but, as I say, I have, all the same, beendisappointed in some of my illusions, and I would rather not talk aboutit. What a change it is to be on this quiet lake and among these greatsilent hills after six months in London; there one always seemed to bein a bustle and fever, here one feels as if nothing that happened couldmatter.'
'The London season is pleasant enough,' Mrs. Dean said, 'and though thisis all very charming and delightful for a change, and very restful, Ifancy that before long we should get tired of this changeless calm ofNature and begin to long for, I won't say excitement, but the pleasureof society--of people you like. We only came up to town for threemonths, and I own that I enjoyed it heartily, there is so much to lookat. I have no daughters to marry off, no personal interest in thecomedy, so I look on and like it, and enjoy my home during the othernine months all the better for having been away. We do not often comeabroad. I suppose now these railways are being made everywhere therewill be a great deal more travelling about, but I don't think we shouldoften come. You talk of the bustle of life in London, it is nothing tothe bustle of travelling. As soon as one gets settled down at an hotelit is time to be going on. If I come out again next year I shallpersuade my husband to take a little chalet high up on the hill there,where one can rest and take one's fill of the view of those mountains. Ishall bring plenty of work with me, and my own maid; then I could sit inthe shade and pretend to embroider and talk to her while William readhis "Times" and amused himself in his own way, which lies chiefly ingoing about with a hammer and collecting geological specimens.'
This last was addressed partly to Mr. Dean, who just then came up withhis friends.
'I fancy you would be tired of that sort of life long before I should,Sarah,' he said laughing. 'Women always seem to have an idea, Hawtrey,that one rock is as good as another, and that if a man goes out with ahammer it can make no difference to him whether he brings in twentyspecimens from a radius of a hundred yards from a house or the samenumber collected during a fifty miles ramble. Personally I should not atall mind making my head quarters for six weeks or so on this lake,providing one did not go up too high. One wants to be within aquarter-of-an-hour's walk of a village, where one can hire a boat, toland where one likes, and make excursions among the hills. I should notwant to do any snow-climbing, but there are plenty of problems one wouldbe glad to go into, if one could investigate them, without that. It isreally a treat to me, after Lincolnshire, to get into a country whereyou can go into geological problems without having to begin by digging.'
'I may frankly say that I know nothing about it,' Mr. Hawtrey replied.'The only problem connected with digging that I have been interested inis how to get the heaviest crops possible out of the ground. Well, herewe are at the head of the lake. It will be two hours before a steamergoes back. I propose lunch in the first place, and then we shall havetime for a walk to Althorp, where we can examine the market-place whereWilliam Tell shot at the apple; that is to say, if--as now seemsdoubtful--William Tell ever had an existence at all.'
'I won't have it doubted, Mr. Hawtrey,' Mrs. Dean exclaimed. 'It wouldbe the destruction of another of one's cherished heroes of childhood,'and she glanced with a little smile at Dorothy, who smiled back butshook her head decidedly.
A group of people were gathered on the wharf to see the steamer come in.
'Why, there are the Fortescues--father, mother, and daughters,' Mrs.Dean exclaimed, 'Captain Armstrong and Mr. Fitzwarren. One cannot getout of London.'
A moment later they were exchanging greetings on the wharf. TheFortescues had arrived that morning in a postcarriage from Milan.Captain Armstrong and Fitzwarren had got in an hour before by diligencefrom Como. Both parties were going down by the boat to Lucerne.
'It is too hot for anything in Italy,' Mrs. Fortescue said; 'it wasfoolish of us trying it. Of course, we ought not to have gone over thereuntil the end of September,
or else in May. May was out of the questionbecause of the House. September was equally so, because of the shooting;so my husband paired till the end of the session, and we started earlylast month. We have been doing Florence and Bologna and Venice, and theplaces along to Milan, and then I struck. The heat was unbearable; sonow we shall spend a fortnight in Switzerland before we go back. Isuppose there are lots of people one knows at Lucerne?'
'But you won't be back in time for the 1st, Mrs. Fortescue, if you dothat.'
'No; we have lately settled to give up the idea. It would be such a pitynow we are here to deprive the girls of the pleasure of a ramble throughSwitzerland. So Mr. Fortescue has made up his mind to sacrifice himself,and we have promised faithfully that he shall be back in time for thepheasants.'
Mr. Fortescue, a tall, powerfully-built specimen of English squiredom,shrugged his shoulders unseen by his wife. He was not altogetherunaccustomed to sacrifices. His career as a legislator was altogether asacrifice. He hated London, he hated Parliament, where his voice wasnever heard except upon some question connected with the agriculturalinterest, and if he had had his own way he would never have been seenoutside his native county. But as Mrs. Fortescue held that it wasclearly his duty, for the sake of his family, that he should representhis division, and that the season should be spent in town, he had inthis, as indeed in almost every other matter, to give way. Experiencehad taught him that it was well to do so at once, for that it alwayscame to the same thing in the end. Upon the present occasion he hadindeed remonstrated. He hated travelling, and was longing to be at hiscountry seat; and to keep him out another five weeks was a clear anddistinct breach of the agreement that had been made before starting.
While they were talking with Mr. Hawtrey and Mrs. Dean, the girls andDorothy, who had been intimate in London, were holding a little colloquyapart.
'Is it true, dear--the news we heard at Milan just before we started?'the eldest asked.
'I suppose I know what you mean, Ada. Yes, it is quite true, and bestfor all parties; so we need not say anything more about it.'
'You are looking wonderfully well, Dorothy,' Clara, the younger of thetwo girls, remarked, to change the subject, which, she saw, was not tobe discussed. 'It is quite refreshing to see you. We are feeling quitewashed out. Talk about the season! I felt quite fresh when I left townto what I do now; we have scarcely known what it is to be cool for thelast month, and there has been no sleeping at night, half the time,because of the mosquitos. It is nice meeting Captain Armstrong and Mr.Fitzwarren here, isn't it?'
Dorothy said 'Yes,' but she did not feel at all sure about it. CaptainArmstrong, who was in the Blues, had been among her most persistentadmirers at the beginning of the season, and she had refused him a monthbefore her engagement to Lord Halliburn. Doubtless, he also would haveheard of her engagement being off, and might renew his attentions. Hewas a very popular man, and she was conscious that she liked him, andhad said no, if not less decidedly, at least after more hesitation anddoubt than she had done to any of her previous admirers. She felt surethat she should give the same answer if he ever repeated the question,but she did not want it repeated, and she wished that they had not metagain, just at this time.
The awkwardness of the rejection had long since passed, they had met anddanced together a score of times since. She had said when she rejectedhim, 'Let us be friends, Captain Armstrong; I like you very much, thoughI don't want to marry you;' and they had been friends, and had met andchatted just as if that interview had not taken place. The only allusionhe had ever made to it had been when they met for the first time afterher engagement had been announced, and he had said, 'So Halliburn is tobe the lucky man, Miss Hawtrey. I don't think it quite fair that heshould have all the good things of life,' and she had replied, 'Thereare good things for us all, Captain Armstrong, if we do but look forthem, and not, like children, set our minds on what we can't get.' 'Ithink I would rather see you marry him than most people, Miss Hawtrey,perhaps because he is altogether unlike myself.'
She had made no answer at the time, but had thought afterwards of whathe had said. Yes, the two men were very unlike and there was, no doubt,something in what Captain Armstrong had said. She thought that if sheloved a man she could bear better to see him marry a woman altogetherunlike herself in every respect than one who resembled her closely,though perhaps she could hardly explain to herself why this should beso.
They were a merry party on board the steamer going down the lake, andthe new comers took rooms at the same hotel as the Hawtreys.
'Well, what do you mean to do, Armstrong?' Fitzwarren asked, as theystrolled out to smoke a cigar by the lake after the rest of the partyhad gone to bed. 'You know what I mean. You told me the other day aboutyour affair with Miss Hawtrey.'
'I should not have said anything about it,' the other returned, 'if Ihad had any idea that her engagement with Halliburn would come tonothing. We had been talking over that business of hers, and I expressedmy opinion pretty strongly as to Halliburn's behaviour to her in publicand said that I wondered she stood it. Then getting heated I was assenough to say that had I been in his position, I should have behaved ina different sort of way, and generally expressed my contempt for him.Then you asked why hadn't I put myself in his position, and I told youit was no fault of mine, for that I had tried and failed, when you madesome uncomplimentary remarks as to her taste, and we nearly had a row.
'You ask me what I am going to do. Of course, if we had not heard thatnews when we got to Milan I should have gone this afternoon, directly wearrived here, to take my place in the first diligence that started, nomatter where. Now I shall stay and try my luck again. It is quiteevident by her manner that she never really cared for the fellow, andthat this breaking off of the engagement is a great relief to her. Inever saw her in higher spirits, and I am sure there was nothing forcedabout them. I am sure she would not have accepted him unless she thoughtshe liked him; she is not the sort of girl to marry for position alone,though I dare say if it had not been for the other business she wouldhave married him, and would have believed all her life that he was avery fine fellow. Well, you see, he came very badly out of it, andshowed himself to her in his true light as a selfish, cold-hearted,miserable little prig, and, you see, directly her eyes were opened shethrew him over. So it seems to me that there is a chance.'
'One could not have met her again under more favourable circumstances.One gets ten times the opportunities travelling about together that onedoes in a London season. However, I think my chance is worth verylittle. She said honestly that she liked me very much before, and Icould see it really pained her to refuse me. I don't think it wasHalliburn who stood in the way, although he was attentive at that time.'
'I should have thought that would have been all in your favour if sheacknowledged that she liked you very much, and was cut up at refusingyou. Why should she not like you better when she sees more of you?'
'Because, Fitzwarren, it was not the right sort of liking. We were, if Imay so express it, chums; and I am afraid we shall never get beyond thaton her side. You see, a woman wants something ideal. Now there isnothing ideal about me. I suppose I may say I am a decent, pleasant sortof fellow, but there are no what you may call possibilities about me.Now Halliburn, you see, was full of possibilities. He had the reputationof being somehow a superior sort of young man--and there is no doubt heis clever in his way--he will probably some day be in the Cabinet, andthe idea of one's husband being a ruler of men is fascinating to thefemale mind. I suppose there was no woman ever married a curate who hadnot a private belief that he would some day be an archbishop. Now thereis not a shadow of this sort of thing about me. I may possibly get tocommand the regiment some day, and then when I have held the command forthe usual time I shall be shelved, and shall, I suppose, retiregracefully to my estate in Yorkshire. I suppose I am good enough for theruck of girls, but I feel sure that I am not up to Dorothy Hawtrey'sideal, and that though this may end by our being greater friends thanbefore, I doubt whethe
r there is much chance of anything else coming ofit.'
'It is no use your running yourself down in that way, Armstrong. When aman stands six foot two and is one of the best-looking fellows inLondon, and one of the most popular men, and is not only a captain ofthe Blues, but has a fine estate down in Yorkshire, he ought to have afair chance with almost any girl.'
'Even accepting all you say as gospel, Fitzwarren, it comes to the samething. It might succeed with most women, as you say, but I don't thinkit will with her. It may make her like me, but I don't think it willmake her love me. I don't think she is a bit worldly, and I know by whatshe let drop one day when we were chatting together, when we got ratherconfidential at the beginning of the season, that she had got the ideain her head that a woman ought to respect her husband, and look up tohim, and had in fact formed a distinct notion of the sort of man sheshould choose; and I felt at the time, though there was nothing whateverpersonal in our talk, I was the very last sort of fellow she wouldchoose for her husband. Well, I shall try again; I have won more thanone steeplechase after a horse going down with me at a bad fence. Thisis the same sort of thing after all; it is of no use mounting and goingon again when you see another fellow sailing away ahead, and close tothe winning post, but if he has fallen too, and nothing seems to have abetter chance than you have, a man who gives up the race because he hashad an awkward purler is no better than a cur.'
'As it does not make much difference to me which way we go, Armstrong, Iam willing enough to keep with you for a bit, and see how things go; butI don't suppose I shall be able to stand it long, and I shall reserve tomyself the right of striking off on my own account, or joining someoneelse if I find your society insupportable.'
'That is all right, old fellow; our arrangement was to travel together.Of course, if I give up travelling and take to loitering about, you arefree to do what you like, and I am the last man to wish you to alteryour plans because I have changed my mind. As a rule, I think it isalways wise to steer clear of people one knows when one is travelling,and to be free to do exactly as one likes, which one never can if onegets mixed up with a party. I have always been dead against that. Theywant to see things you don't want to see, they want to stay in towns andto potter about picture galleries and churches, while you want to goright away up a hill----'
'That is not the worst of it, Armstrong, it is the danger.'
'The danger? What do you mean?'
'The danger of going too far. A flirtation means nothing in town, but itis apt to become a very serious matter when you are travelling abouttogether. A row in a boat on an evening like this, or, as you say, goingabout to churches and picture galleries, when you are dead certain toget separated from the rest of the party, or a climb through a pineforest--these things are all full of peril, and you are liable to findyourself saying things that there is no getting out of, and there youare--engaged to perhaps the last girl that you would, had you calmly andpatiently thought the matter out, have gone in for.'
Captain Armstrong laughed.
'Ah, it is all very well for you to laugh. In the first place you havebeen what is called a general flirt for years, and would not besuspected of serious intentions, unless you went very far indeed; and inthe second place you could afford to marry a girl without a penny if youhad any inclination to do so. It is a different thing altogether withfellows like myself, who have no choice between remaining single andmarrying a wife with some money. There are some luxuries I absolutelycannot afford, and among them I may reckon travelling about in a partyin which are some tocherless damsels--for instance the Fortescues, who,I daresay, will for the next ten days or a fortnight travel with theHawtreys. They are nice, unaffected girls, pretty and pleasant, but theyhave three elder brothers. I could not afford one of them. My line inlife is clearly chalked out. Not for me is the gilded heiress; herfriends will look after her too sharply for that. I have pictured tomyself that in another eight or ten years I may be able to secure theaffections of the relict of some respectable man who has left her with asnug jointure. She will not be too young, but just approaching nearlyenough to middle age to begin to fear being laid on the shelf. Then inthe comfortable home that she will provide for me I can journeypleasantly and contentedly down the vale of life.'
Captain Armstrong burst into a loud laugh. 'You will never do it,Fitzwarren, never. There is a vein of romance in your composition thatwill be too much for you. It is always young men who fancy they areprudent who end by falling victims to some nice girl without a penny.You may take all the precautions you like, walk as circumspectly as youwill, but when the time comes you will succumb without a struggle.However, do not let me lead you into the net of the fowler; keep awayfrom the snare as long as you can; when your fate comes upon you youwill be captured, and I doubt whether you will make as much as astruggle.'
'We shall see, Armstrong; at present you serve as a terrible example.Well, I suppose we may as well turn in.'
There was a great consultation after breakfast the next morning. Mr.Hawtrey had already marked out his own line of travel and had arrangedfor a carriage by which they would travel by easy stages through Brienz,Interlaken, Thun, Freyburg, and then on to Lausanne. They would stay fora week by the Lake of Geneva and then take another carriage to Martigny.Beyond that nothing was at present settled, but they would make Martignytheir head quarters for some little time. The Fortescues had noparticular plan and were quite ready to fall into that of their friends,though, as they had as yet seen nothing of Lucerne, and intended to makesome excursions from there, they said that they must stop there for afew days, but would join the others at Martigny.
The girls indeed would gladly have gone forward at once, being reallyfond of Dorothy, and thinking that it would be nice to travel together,but their mother overruled this.
'No, no, my dears, we must see what there is to be seen, and it would bea great pity to hurry away at once. We shall all meet again at Martigny,and may, perhaps, have a fortnight there together. Besides, there areinconveniences in two parties travelling together. One may happen tohave faster horses than the other, and be kept waiting for their mealsuntil the other arrives; then they don't always want to stop at the sameplaces, or for the same time. Whoever gets in first may be able to findaccommodation at an inn, while the second one may find it full. Don'tyou think so, Mr. Singleton?'
'Yes, I quite agree with you. Two parties are apt to be a tie upon eachother. I think that your plan that we should all meet at Martigny is thewisest.'
'What are your plans, Captain Armstrong?'
'Beyond the fact that we have a month to wander about before we are duein London we have no particular plans. We, of course, stick to diligenceroutes; bachelors do not indulge in the luxury of posting, and, indeed,I greatly prefer the banquette of a diligence to a carriage--you get abetter view, you meet other people, and learn more of the country. Weintend to do a little climbing--I don't mean high peaks, I have noambition that way whatever, but some of the passes and glaciers. I wasat Martigny last year; it is, perhaps, the best central position for themountains, and I think it is very likely that we shall be there whileyou are.'
'I hope you will,' Mr. Hawtrey said cordially. 'These three young ladieswill be only too glad of two stalwart guides. As far as carriages cango, or even donkeys, we elders can accompany them, but when it comes toscrambling about on glaciers, or doing anything like climbing, we aregetting past that.'
'Nonsense, father,' Dorothy exclaimed. 'Why, you are often out for eightor ten hours over the turnip fields with a gun, you know; you could walkfour times as far as I could.'
'Not twice as far, Dorothy. I have known you walk fifteen miles morethan once, and I certainly should not care about walking thirty. Butthat has nothing to do with climbing, which is a question of weight andwind. You have only half my weight to carry. I am sure that afterdancing through a London season your lungs ought to be in perfect order.However, I dare say I shall be able to go with you if your views are nottoo ambitious; but the mania for climbing a
lways seems to seize youngpeople when they get among mountains, though for my part I prefer theview in a valley to one on the top of a hill. At any rate we shall beglad to see you both, Captain Armstrong, at Martigny, whether werequisition your services as guides or not. I am sorry, Dorothy, theDeans are not coming our way. He told me yesterday they were going toZurich, and then by Constance into Bavaria.'
'I am sorry, too, father; I like them so much, and it would have beenvery pleasant indeed if they had been with us.'