Part 2 (2/2)

”Yvonne, I wish you'd hang out and see if you see any of Edna hanging out. I declare, this is a very trying situation to be in. You don't know what a trip I had, Mrs. Braytree, trying to keep track of these girls; and since we landed--well, I just had to call a halt in Havre and come off alone. Curious place, Havre, don't you think? See any one you knew there? We--who did you say? Why, that can't be, he's in Russia. Yvonne, didn't that young reprobate write you he was going to Russia? Yes, I thought so. Well, Mrs. Braytree says she saw him in Havre. Good joke his not knowing we were in Rouen; he'd have been down there in a jiffy, I'll bet anything. But your Uncle John is a rather tough customer to handle, and I expect that young man knows the fact, and so thought it best to give Rouen a wide berth. Not that I have anything in particular against young Reynolds, only I don't consider that any girl could be happy with him. And it's foolish to have a man around unless you can make him happy--I mean unless he can make you happy. My wife was very happy up to the time she developed melancholia--a sad disease, Mrs. Braytree.

Yvonne, I wish you'd hang out and see if you can see anything of Edna.

”I presume this is as good a time as we'll have to study up a little on Gisors. It seems to have been the capital of the Vexin. I shouldn't be surprised if 'vex' and 'vexing' both come from that country, for the guide-book gives it as always in hot water. The French and English were both up against it most of the time, and it was vexin' with a vengeance.

It says here that the old city walls are still standing and that Henry II built the castle. Isn't he the one we peeked around in Rouen? Yes, I thought so. It says that there's very little left of the castle, though.

I must say I'm always glad when I read that there's not much left of anything; it gives me a quiet, rested sort of feeling.”

_Gisors._

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'This is as good a time as we'll have to study up on Gisors'”]

”Well, here we get out. I'll swing down first. If French trains were American, they'd have trapezes or elevators to--get--out--by. Here, give me your hand, Yvonne--oh, there's Edna. Well, I vow, who has she got--if it isn't--Yvonne, isn't that that young man--how d'ye do, Edgar?

Delighted to see you again. Our friend, Mrs. Braytree, and all the others are her daughters. Come, Edna; you come with me while I check this trunk. Where in thunder did you get that fellow from? How does he come to be in Rouen? Did you know he was in Rouen? Did you see him while he was there? I declare, I never will travel with any women again unless I am married to them. This is awful. Don't you know I'm responsible for you two girls? And I send you ahead to get a compartment, and you find Edgar--it makes me want to swear. Say, was there any one else with you? Worse and worse. I was afraid there was something wrong when we kept hanging out and you never hung out at all.

Well, we'll have to go back and gather them all up. Yes, I'll be polite to him; but, Edna, I hope you understand distinctly that a man like that could never make any woman--

”Yes, Mrs. Braytree, here we are again; and now we'll all proceed over Gisors. Pretty place, don't you think? Picturesque. Did you ever see so many ca.n.a.ls--or smell so many?--and the little cottages out of another century? Packed roofs--green trees--well-sweeps--I like this; I'm glad I had the sense to come here. Edgar, will you oblige me by carrying that cane so that child doesn't come within an ace of catching her mouth on it every other second? I declare, Mrs. Braytree, I wish we hadn't run on to that young man. Of course he's a nice fellow and all that, but young men are a great trial when you have two--

”Let's turn down here. Most of the streets seem to be ca.n.a.l tow-paths. I vow, this _is_ pretty. I could settle down in a place like this and live till I died. What do you suppose the people here do to amuse themselves, anyhow? From the way they look at us with their mouths open I should imagine that we were regarded in the light of a great event.

And if that's the case, they must be pretty hard up for sport. Oh, well, I presume it's enough for them to paddle about on the green waters and stir up the miasma--as much sense as foreigners have.

”And so these are the walls--ramparts, I mean. Well, they're fairly high. Wonder how high they are, anyhow? Edgar, will you do me the courtesy not to be pointing to the left with that cane of yours when I turn suddenly to the right again? I beg your pardon for seeming heated, Mrs. Braytree; but he really--

”Let's find a gate and go in; seems to be a park inside. I should think there _was_ 'little left to be seen of the castle!' I don't see anything at all of it. Maybe they took it down and built the walls higher just to fool tourists. Well, I didn't come to Gisors to caper about in a park; let's go out and look at the church--the guide-book says the church is worth seeing. I think there's something very touching about guide-book enthusiasm: it keeps up so consistently right through to the end. I feel as if my own enthusiasm was most run through now. I don't know how Paris will affect me. Edgar, if I trip on that cane you'll have to pay my doctor's bill. What makes you handle it as you do, anyway? I like to see a cane light and alert--not one that drags through the world in the style of yours. To judge from your cane, I should say you hadn't been in bed before three for a month. I have to speak sharply to that fellow, Mrs. Braytree; he is about as wooden-headed as they make. Came across the ocean with us, and pestered the life out of me. You don't know what an ocean voyage is with two attractive girls--I _beg_ your pardon; I forgot your four. Dear me! we were speaking of--yes--of Gisors, of course. I vow, I'm disappointed in it as a whole. I wish we'd gone to Les Andelys instead. Les Andelys is marked with an asterisk in the guide-book, and there's a castle there built by Coeur-de-Lion. By the way, Mrs. Braytree, the Coeur-de-Lion _itself_ is buried in Rouen. Did you know that? Nice joke, eh? But, dear, dear, if there's no castle here when we get here, perhaps there'd be none there when we got there. I'm beginning to look upon Europe as a confidence-game; I--

”Well is _that_ the castle! Great Scott! but it must have been big. It's big yet, and the book said there was very little left to see. I'm beginning to lose faith in that book. Picturesque idea, having the park hide the ruins till you come right smash on to them. Clever people, the French; make everything put the best foot foremost. Fine old round tower; nice tumble-down guard-chamber! I like this. Let's go around the other side. Great place, eh? Worth a trip to see. Edgar, let me have your cane to point with. There, do you see that old staircase? Looks Roman to me; what do you think? I tell you, a man could write an historical novel out of old ruins if he prowled long enough. Come on now; let's meander on down town and look at the church. As soon as I look at anything, I'm always ready to look at something else. Let's go out on this side and go back to town the other way. Then we'll look at the church, and then we'll put you and Edgar on the train for Rouen, Mrs. Braytree. What did you say, Yvonne? He isn't going to Rouen? Where is he going? To Paris with us! Well, well, well! all I can say is, I do admire his nerve. I never in all my life went where I wasn't asked, and took a cane. Now don't you see why no woman could be happy with a man like that? I never saw the beat. I tell you frankly, Yvonne, I don't like his ways and I don't like him. If you girls had let him alone on the boat, he'd have let us alone here. I declare, my day is just about spoiled. Your mother has trusted you girls to me, and I haven't drawn a quiet breath since. I did take a little comfort there in Rouen; but if I'd known that Lee was in Havre, I'd have been on thorns even there.

”Well, where is the church? Ask some one. What did she say? Down here?

Down we go, then. Ah, I suppose that's it under the sidewalk. Nice commanding situation for a church, to grade a street by its tower! Why don't they put in the guide-book, 'Street commands a fine view of the roof?' There isn't time to go inside unless Mrs. Braytree wants to miss her train, and we don't want her to do that.

”This is the street to the _gare_, and we'll run right along. I expect we can get something to eat there, and get that 1:30 train for Beauvais.

There isn't anything in Beauvais that would interest you, Mrs. Braytree; but there's a church there that I want to see. The guide-book says that Mr. Ruskin says that the roof has got a clear vertical fall that not many rocks in the Alps can equal; I don't just know what a clear vertical fall may be, but if there's a church anywhere near as high as an Alp, I don't want to miss seeing it.

”There's the clock. You just have time to get aboard comfortably. Don't you want to go with them, Edgar? Well, I thought maybe you might.

Good-by, good-by; delighted to have met you. Good-by. Oh, yes, of course. In Paris.

”There, they're gone, darn 'em! Now let's get some lunch. Did you ever see such a collection as those girls? It must have been a bitter pill when, after managing to a.s.similate the looks of the three oldest, the little one appeared with her eyes laid out bias. Come in here; we can get something to eat here, I don't care what; but I want plenty. Don't lose your cane, Edgar; life wouldn't be life to you without it, I expect. I like these country hotel entrances, through a carriage-house and a duck-yard, fall over a cat, and come in. Tell her we want dinner for four, and prompt. You put that in good forcible French for me, Edgar, and I'll be grateful to you till I die. Let's sit down. Let's eat.”

_Beauvais._

”Now, young people, I call this making a day count. This is my idea of getting about. Breakfast in Rouen, lunch in Gisors, Beauvais for a sandwich, and we'll dine in Paris.

”What time is it? Three o'clock. Well, we want to head straight for that cathedral. Seems as if it ought to show most anywhere over a little, low town like this, but I don't see it. Ask someone--ask any one. Well, what did they say? Right across the square. Whose statue is that in the middle? Joan of Arc? Jeanne Hachette? Who was Jeanne Hachette? Girl who captured flag from Charles the Bold, eh? Is that why they called him 'the Bold'? Sort of sarcastic on his letting a girl carry off his flag, I should consider. Well, when did she live? Has she got her year under her? 1492. Seventy years after Joan. I shouldn't have thought she'd have inspired other young women in this part of the country to emulate her.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”'Tell her we want dinner for four, and prompt'”]

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