The Collected Works of Susan Coolidge: 7 Novels, 35+ Short Stories, Essays & Poems (Illustrated). Susan CoolidgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
that dear Piazza di Spagna!” she would say; “that was where I found my rococo necklace, the loveliest thing you ever saw, Katy.” Or, “Prague—oh yes, mother got the most enchanting old silver chatelaine there, with all kinds of things hanging to it,—needlecases and watches and scent-bottles, all solid, and so beautifully chased.” Or again, “Berlin was horrid, we thought; but the amber is better and cheaper than anywhere else,—great strings of beads, of the largest size and that beautiful pale yellow, for a hundred francs. You must get yourself one, Katy.”
Poor Lilly! Europe to her was all “things.” She had collected trunks full of objects to carry home, but of the other collections which do not go into trunks, she had little or none. Her mind was as empty, her heart as untouched as ever; the beauty and the glory and the pathos of art and history and Nature had been poured out in vain before her closed and indifferent eyes.
Life soon dropped into a peaceful routine at the Pension Suisse, which was at the same time restful and stimulating. Katy’s first act in the morning, as soon as she opened her eyes, was to hurry to the window in hopes of getting a glimpse of Corsica. She had discovered that this elusive island could almost always be seen from Nice at the dawning, but that as soon as the sun was fairly up, it vanished to appear no more for the rest of the day. There was something fascinating to her imagination in the hovering mountain outline between sea and sky. She felt as if she were under an engagement to be there to meet it, and she rarely missed the appointment. Then, after Corsica had pulled the bright mists over its face and melted from view, she would hurry with her dressing, and as soon as was practicable set to work to make the salon look bright before the coffee and rolls should appear, a little after eight o’clock. Mrs. Ashe always found the fire lit, the little meal cosily set out beside it, and Katy’s happy untroubled face to welcome her when she emerged from her room; and the cheer of these morning repasts made a good beginning for the day.
Then came walking and a French lesson, and a long sitting on the beach, while Katy worked at her home letters and Amy raced up and down in the sun; and then toward noon Lieutenant Ned generally appeared, and some scheme of pleasure was set on foot. Mrs. Ashe ignored his evident penchant for Lilly Page, and claimed his time and attentions as hers by right. Young Worthington was a good deal “taken” with the pretty Lilly; still, he had an old-time devotion for his sister and the habit of doing what she desired, and he yielded to her behests with no audible objections. He made a fourth in the carriage while they drove over the lovely hills which encircle Nice toward the north, to Cimiers and the Val de St. André, or down the coast toward Ventimiglia. He went with them to Monte-Carlo and Mentone, and was their escort again and again when they visited the great war-ships as they lay at anchor in a bay which in its translucent blue was like an enormous sapphire.
Mrs. Page and her daughter were included in these parties more than once; but there was something in Mrs. Ashe’s cool appropriation of her brother which was infinitely vexatious to Lilly, who before her arrival had rather looked upon Lieutenant Worthington as her own especial property.
“I wish that Mrs. Ashe had stayed at home,” she told her mother. “She quite spoils everything. Mr. Worthington isn’t half so nice as he was before she came. I do believe she has a plan for making him fall in love with Katy; but there she makes a miss of it, for he doesn’t seem to care anything about her.”
“Katy is a nice girl enough,” pronounced her mother, “but not of the sort to attract a gay young man, I should fancy. I don’t believe she is thinking of any such thing. You needn’t be afraid, Lilly.”
“I’m not afraid,” said Lilly, with a pout; “only it’s so provoking.”
Mrs. Page was quite right. Katy was not thinking of any such thing. She liked Ned Worthington’s frank manners; she owned, quite honestly, that she thought him handsome, and she particularly admired the sort of deferential affection which he showed to Mrs. Ashe, and his nice ways with Amy. For herself, she was aware that he scarcely noticed her except as politeness demanded that he should be civil to his sister’s friend; but the knowledge did not trouble her particularly. Her head was full of interesting things, plans, ideas. She was not accustomed to being made the object of admiration, and experienced none of the vexations of a neglected belle. If Lieutenant Worthington happened to talk to her, she responded frankly and freely; if he did not, she occupied herself with something else; in either case she was quite unembarrassed both in feeling and manner, and had none of the awkwardness which comes from disappointed vanity and baffled expectations, and the need for concealing them.
Toward the close of December the officers of the flag-ship gave a ball, which was the great event of the season to the gay world of Nice. Americans were naturally in the ascendant on an American frigate; and of all the American girls present, Lilly Page was unquestionably the prettiest. Exquisitely dressed in white lace, with bands of turquoises on her neck and arms and in her hair, she had more partners than she knew what to do with, more bouquets than she could well carry, and compliments enough to turn any girl’s head. Thrown off her guard by her triumphs, she indulged a little vindictive feeling which had been growing in her mind of late on account of what she chose to consider certain derelictions of duty on the part of Lieutenant Worthington, and treated him to a taste of neglect. She was engaged three deep when he asked her to dance; she did not hear when he invited her to walk; she turned a cold shoulder when he tried to talk, and seemed absorbed by the other cavaliers, naval and otherwise, who crowded about her.
Piqued and surprised, Ned Worthington turned to Katy. She did not dance, saying frankly that she did not know how and was too tall; and she was rather simply dressed in a pearl-gray silk, which had been her best gown the winter before in Burnet, with a bunch of red roses in the white lace of the tucker, and another in her hand, both the gifts of little Amy; but she looked pleasant and serene, and there was something about her which somehow soothed his disturbed mind, as he offered her his arm for a walk on the decks.
For a while they said little, and Katy was quite content to pace up and down in silence, enjoying the really beautiful scene,—the moonlight on the Bay, the deep wavering reflections of the dark hulls and slender spars, the fairy effect of the colored lamps and lanterns, and the brilliant moving maze of the dancers.
“Do you care for this sort of thing?” he suddenly asked.
“What sort of thing do you mean?”
“Oh, all this jigging and waltzing and amusement.”
“I don’t know how to ‘jig,’ but it’s delightful to look on,” she answered merrily. “I never saw anything so pretty in my life.”
The happy tone of her voice and the unruffled face which she turned upon him quieted his irritation.
“I really believe you mean it,” he said; “and yet, if you won’t think me rude to say so, most girls would consider the thing dull enough if they were only getting out of it what you are,—if they were not dancing, I mean, and nobody in particular was trying to entertain them.”
“But everything is being done to entertain me,” cried Katy. “I can’t imagine what makes you think that it could seem dull. I am in it all, don’t you see,—I have my share—. Oh, I am stupid, I can’t make you understand.”
“Yes, you do. I understand perfectly, I think; only it is such a different point of view from what girls in general would take.” (By girls he meant Lilly!) “Please do not think me uncivil.”
“You are not uncivil at all; but don’t let us talk any more about me. Look at the lights between the shadows of the masts on the water. How they quiver! I never saw anything so beautiful, I think. And how warm it is! I can’t believe that we are in December and that it is nearly Christmas.”
“How is Polly going to celebrate her Christmas? Have you decided?”
“Amy is to have a Christmas-tree for her dolls, and two other dolls are coming. We went out this morning to buy things for it,—tiny little toys and candles fit for Lilliput. And that reminds me, do you suppose one can get any Christmas greens here?”
“Why