Part 28 (1/2)

Uncle Oldways came up once in a while to the house in Shubarton Place, and made an evening call. He seemed to take apricot-color for granted, when he got there, as much as he did the plain, old, unrelieved brown at Mrs. Ripwinkley's; he sat quite unconcernedly in the grand easy chair that Laura wheeled out for him; indeed, it seemed as if he really, after a manner, indorsed everything by his acceptance without demur of what he found. But then one must sit down on something; and if one is offered a cup of coffee, or anything on a plate, one cannot easily protest against sea-green china. We do, and we have, and we wear, and we say, a great many things, and feel ourselves countenanced and confirmed, somehow,--perhaps excused,--because n.o.body appears surprised or says anything. But what should they say; and would it be at all proper that they should be surprised? If we only thought of it, and once tried it, we might perhaps find it quite as easy and encouraging, on the same principle, _not_ to have apricot rep and sea-green china.

One night Mr. Oldways was with them when the talk turned eastwardly over the water. There were new names in the paper, of people who had gone out in the _Aleppo_, and a list of Americans registered at Bowles Brothers,' among whom were old acquaintance.

”I declare, how they all keep turning up there” said Mrs. Ledwith.

”The war doesn't seem to make much difference,” said her husband.

”To think how lucky the Vonderbargens were, to be in Paris just at the edge of the siege!” said Glossy Megilp. ”They came back from Como just in time; and poor Mr. Washburne had to fairly hustle them off at last. They were buying silks, and ribbons, and gloves, up to the last minute, for absolutely nothing. Mrs. Vonderbargen said it seemed a sin to come away and leave anything. I'm sure I don't know how they got them all home; but they did.”

Glossy had been staying lately with the Vonderbargens in New York.

She stayed everywhere, and picked up everything.

”You have been abroad, Mrs. Scherman?” said Mrs. Ledwith, inquiringly, to Asenath, who happened to be calling, also, with her husband, and was looking at some photographs with Desire.

”No, ma'am,” answered Mrs. Scherman, very promptly, not having spoken at all before in the discussion. ”I do not think I wish to go. The syphon has been working too long.”

”The Syphon?”

Mrs. Ledwith spoke with a capital S in her mind; but was not quite sure whether what Mrs. Scherman meant might be a line of Atlantic steamers or the sea-serpent.

”Yes, ma'am. The emptying back and forth. There isn't much that is foreign over there, now, nor very much that is native here. The hemispheres have got miserably mixed up. I think when I go 'strange countries for to see,' it will have to be Patagonia or Independent Tartary.”

Uncle Oldways turned round with his great chair, so as to face Asenath, and laughed one of his thorough fun digesting laughs, his keen eyes half shut with the enjoyment, and sparkling out through their cracks at her.

But Asenath had resumed her photographs with the sweetest and quietest unconsciousness.

Mrs. Ledwith let her alone after that; and the talk rambled on to the schools in Munich, and the Miracle Plays at Oberammergau.

”To think of _that_ invasion!” said Asenath, in a low tone to Desire, ”and corrupting _that_ into a show, with a run of regular performances! I do believe they have pulled down the last unprofaned thing now, and trampled over it.”

”If we go,” said Mrs. Megilp, ”we shall join the Fayerwerses, and settle down with them quietly in some nice place; and then make excursions. We shall not try to do all Europe in three months; we shall choose, and take time. It is the only way really to enjoy or acquire; and the quiet times are so invaluable for the lessons and languages.”

Mrs. Megilp made up her little varnishes with the genuine gums of truth and wisdom; she put a beautiful s.h.i.+ne even on to her limited opportunities and her enforced frugalities.

”Mrs. Ledwith, you _ought_ to let Agatha and Florence go too. I would take every care of them; and the expense would be so divided--carriages, and couriers, and everything--that it would be hardly anything.”

”It is a great opportunity,” Mrs. Ledwith said, and sighed. ”But it is different with us from what it is with you. We must still be a family here, with nearly the same expenses. To be sure Desire has done with school, and she doesn't care for gay society, and Helena is a mere child yet; if it ever could”--

And so it went on between the ladies, while Mr. Oldways and Mr.

Ledwith and Frank Scherman got into war talk, and Bismarck policy, and French poss--no, _im_-possibilities.

”I don't think Uncle Oldways minded much,” said Mrs. Ledwith to Agatha, and Mrs. Megilp, up-stairs, after everybody had gone who was to go.

”He never minds anything,” said Agatha.

”I don't know,” said Mrs. Megilp, slowly. ”He seemed mightily pleased with what Asenath Scherman said.”

”O, she's pretty, and funny; it makes no difference what she says; people are always pleased.”

”We might dismiss one girl this winter,” said Mrs. Ledwith, ”and board in some cheap country place next summer. I dare say we could save it in the year's round; the difference, I mean. When you weren't actually travelling, it wouldn't cost more than to have you here,--dress and all.