The Europeans Read online

  CHAPTER III

  That evening at dinner Felix Young gave his sister, the BaronessMunster, an account of his impressions. She saw that he had come back inthe highest possible spirits; but this fact, to her own mind, was not areason for rejoicing. She had but a limited confidence in her brother'sjudgment; his capacity for taking rose-colored views was such as tovulgarize one of the prettiest of tints. Still, she supposed he couldbe trusted to give her the mere facts; and she invited him with someeagerness to communicate them. "I suppose, at least, they did n't turnyou out from the door;" she said. "You have been away some ten hours."

  "Turn me from the door!" Felix exclaimed. "They took me to their hearts;they killed the fatted calf."

  "I know what you want to say: they are a collection of angels."

  "Exactly," said Felix. "They are a collection of angels--simply."

  "C'est bien vague," remarked the Baroness. "What are they like?"

  "Like nothing you ever saw."

  "I am sure I am much obliged; but that is hardly more definite.Seriously, they were glad to see you?"

  "Enchanted. It has been the proudest day of my life. Never, never have Ibeen so lionized! I assure you, I was cock of the walk. My dear sister,"said the young man, "nous n'avons qu'a nous tenir; we shall be greatswells!"

  Madame Munster looked at him, and her eye exhibited a slight responsivespark. She touched her lips to a glass of wine, and then she said,"Describe them. Give me a picture."

  Felix drained his own glass. "Well, it 's in the country, among themeadows and woods; a wild sort of place, and yet not far from here.Only, such a road, my dear! Imagine one of the Alpine glaciersreproduced in mud. But you will not spend much time on it, for they wantyou to come and stay, once for all."

  "Ah," said the Baroness, "they want me to come and stay, once for all?Bon."

  "It 's intensely rural, tremendously natural; and all overhung withthis strange white light, this far-away blue sky. There 's a big woodenhouse--a kind of three-story bungalow; it looks like a magnifiedNuremberg toy. There was a gentleman there that made a speech to meabout it and called it a 'venerable mansion;' but it looks as if it hadbeen built last night."

  "Is it handsome--is it elegant?" asked the Baroness.

  Felix looked at her a moment, smiling. "It 's very clean! No splendors,no gilding, no troops of servants; rather straight-backed chairs. Butyou might eat off the floors, and you can sit down on the stairs."

  "That must be a privilege. And the inhabitants are straight-backed too,of course."

  "My dear sister," said Felix, "the inhabitants are charming."

  "In what style?"

  "In a style of their own. How shall I describe it? It 's primitive; it's patriarchal; it 's the ton of the golden age."

  "And have they nothing golden but their ton? Are there no symptoms ofwealth?"

  "I should say there was wealth without symptoms. A plain, homely way oflife: nothing for show, and very little for--what shall I call it?--forthe senses: but a great faisance, and a lot of money, out of sight,that comes forward very quietly for subscriptions to institutions,for repairing tenements, for paying doctor's bills; perhaps even forportioning daughters."

  "And the daughters?" Madame Munster demanded. "How many are there?"

  "There are two, Charlotte and Gertrude."

  "Are they pretty?"

  "One of them," said Felix.

  "Which is that?"

  The young man was silent, looking at his sister. "Charlotte," he said atlast.

  She looked at him in return. "I see. You are in love with Gertrude. Theymust be Puritans to their finger-tips; anything but gay!"

  "No, they are not gay," Felix admitted. "They are sober; they are evensevere. They are of a pensive cast; they take things hard. I think thereis something the matter with them; they have some melancholy memory orsome depressing expectation. It 's not the epicurean temperament. Myuncle, Mr. Wentworth, is a tremendously high-toned old fellow; he looksas if he were undergoing martyrdom, not by fire, but by freezing. But weshall cheer them up; we shall do them good. They will take a good dealof stirring up; but they are wonderfully kind and gentle. And they areappreciative. They think one clever; they think one remarkable!"

  "That is very fine, so far as it goes," said the Baroness. "But are weto be shut up to these three people, Mr. Wentworth and the two youngwomen--what did you say their names were--Deborah and Hephzibah?"

  "Oh, no; there is another little girl, a cousin of theirs, a very prettycreature; a thorough little American. And then there is the son of thehouse."

  "Good!" said the Baroness. "We are coming to the gentlemen. What of theson of the house?"

  "I am afraid he gets tipsy."

  "He, then, has the epicurean temperament! How old is he?"

  "He is a boy of twenty; a pretty young fellow, but I am afraid he hasvulgar tastes. And then there is Mr. Brand--a very tall young man, asort of lay-priest. They seem to think a good deal of him, but I don'texactly make him out."

  "And is there nothing," asked the Baroness, "between theseextremes--this mysterious ecclesiastic and that intemperate youth?"

  "Oh, yes, there is Mr. Acton. I think," said the young man, with a nodat his sister, "that you will like Mr. Acton."

  "Remember that I am very fastidious," said the Baroness. "Has he verygood manners?"

  "He will have them with you. He is a man of the world; he has been toChina."

  Madame Munster gave a little laugh. "A man of the Chinese world! He mustbe very interesting."

  "I have an idea that he brought home a fortune," said Felix.

  "That is always interesting. Is he young, good-looking, clever?"

  "He is less than forty; he has a baldish head; he says witty things. Irather think," added the young man, "that he will admire the BaronessMunster."

  "It is very possible," said this lady. Her brother never knew how shewould take things; but shortly afterwards she declared that he had madea very pretty description and that on the morrow she would go and seefor herself.

  They mounted, accordingly, into a great barouche--a vehicle as to whichthe Baroness found nothing to criticise but the price that was askedfor it and the fact that the coachman wore a straw hat. (At SilberstadtMadame Munster had had liveries of yellow and crimson.) They droveinto the country, and the Baroness, leaning far back and swaying herlace-fringed parasol, looked to right and to left and surveyed theway-side objects. After a while she pronounced them "affreux."Her brother remarked that it was apparently a country in which theforeground was inferior to the plans recules: and the Baroness rejoinedthat the landscape seemed to be all foreground. Felix had fixed with hisnew friends the hour at which he should bring his sister; it was fouro'clock in the afternoon. The large, clean-faced house wore, to hiseyes, as the barouche drove up to it, a very friendly aspect; the high,slender elms made lengthening shadows in front of it. The Baronessdescended; her American kinsfolk were stationed in the portico. Felixwaved his hat to them, and a tall, lean gentleman, with a high foreheadand a clean shaven face, came forward toward the garden gate. CharlotteWentworth walked at his side. Gertrude came behind, more slowly. Both ofthese young ladies wore rustling silk dresses. Felix ushered his sisterinto the gate. "Be very gracious," he said to her. But he saw theadmonition was superfluous. Eugenia was prepared to be gracious asonly Eugenia could be. Felix knew no keener pleasure than to be able toadmire his sister unrestrictedly; for if the opportunity was frequent,it was not inveterate. When she desired to please she was to him, asto every one else, the most charming woman in the world. Then heforgot that she was ever anything else; that she was sometimes hard andperverse; that he was occasionally afraid of her. Now, as she tookhis arm to pass into the garden, he felt that she desired, that sheproposed, to please, and this situation made him very happy. Eugeniawould please.

  The tall gentleman came to meet her, looking very rigid and grave. Butit was a rigidity that had no illiberal meaning. Mr. Wentworth's mannerwas pregnant, on the contrary, wit
h a sense of grand responsibility, ofthe solemnity of the occasion, of its being difficult to show sufficientdeference to a lady at once so distinguished and so unhappy. Felixhad observed on the day before his characteristic pallor; and now heperceived that there was something almost cadaverous in his uncle'shigh-featured white face. But so clever were this young man's quicksympathies and perceptions that he already learned that in thesesemi-mortuary manifestations there was no cause for alarm. His lightimagination had gained a glimpse of Mr. Wentworth's spiritual mechanism,and taught him that, the old man being infinitely conscientious, thespecial operation of conscience within him announced itself by severalof the indications of physical faintness.

  The Baroness took her uncle's hand, and stood looking at him with herugly face and her beautiful smile. "Have I done right to come?" sheasked.

  "Very right, very right," said Mr. Wentworth, solemnly. He had arrangedin his mind a little speech; but now it quite faded away. He felt almostfrightened. He had never been looked at in just that way--with just thatfixed, intense smile--by any woman; and it perplexed and weighed uponhim, now, that the woman who was smiling so and who had instantly givenhim a vivid sense of her possessing other unprecedented attributes, washis own niece, the child of his own father's daughter. The idea that hisniece should be a German Baroness, married "morganatically" to a Prince,had already given him much to think about. Was it right, was it just,was it acceptable? He always slept badly, and the night before he hadlain awake much more even than usual, asking himself these questions.The strange word "morganatic" was constantly in his ears; it remindedhim of a certain Mrs. Morgan whom he had once known and who had been abold, unpleasant woman. He had a feeling that it was his duty, so longas the Baroness looked at him, smiling in that way, to meet her glancewith his own scrupulously adjusted, consciously frigid organs of vision;but on this occasion he failed to perform his duty to the last. Helooked away toward his daughters. "We are very glad to see you," he hadsaid. "Allow me to introduce my daughters--Miss Charlotte Wentworth,Miss Gertrude Wentworth."

  The Baroness thought she had never seen people less demonstrative.But Charlotte kissed her and took her hand, looking at her sweetly andsolemnly. Gertrude seemed to her almost funereal, though Gertrudemight have found a source of gayety in the fact that Felix, with hismagnificent smile, had been talking to her; he had greeted her as avery old friend. When she kissed the Baroness she had tears in her eyes.Madame Munster took each of these young women by the hand, and looked atthem all over. Charlotte thought her very strange-looking and singularlydressed; she could not have said whether it was well or ill. She wasglad, at any rate, that they had put on their silk gowns--especiallyGertrude. "My cousins are very pretty," said the Baroness, turning hereyes from one to the other. "Your daughters are very handsome, sir."

  Charlotte blushed quickly; she had never yet heard her personalappearance alluded to in a loud, expressive voice. Gertrude lookedaway--not at Felix; she was extremely pleased. It was not the complimentthat pleased her; she did not believe it; she thought herself veryplain. She could hardly have told you the source of her satisfaction;it came from something in the way the Baroness spoke, and it was notdiminished--it was rather deepened, oddly enough--by the young girl'sdisbelief. Mr. Wentworth was silent; and then he asked, formally, "Won'tyou come into the house?"

  "These are not all; you have some other children," said the Baroness.

  "I have a son," Mr. Wentworth answered.

  "And why does n't he come to meet me?" Eugenia cried. "I am afraid he isnot so charming as his sisters."

  "I don't know; I will see about it," the old man declared.

  "He is rather afraid of ladies," Charlotte said, softly.

  "He is very handsome," said Gertrude, as loud as she could.

  "We will go in and find him. We will draw him out of his cachette." Andthe Baroness took Mr. Wentworth's arm, who was not aware that he hadoffered it to her, and who, as they walked toward the house, wonderedwhether he ought to have offered it and whether it was proper for her totake it if it had not been offered. "I want to know you well," said theBaroness, interrupting these meditations, "and I want you to know me."

  "It seems natural that we should know each other," Mr. Wentworthrejoined. "We are near relatives."

  "Ah, there comes a moment in life when one reverts, irresistibly, toone's natural ties--to one's natural affections. You must have foundthat!" said Eugenia.

  Mr. Wentworth had been told the day before by Felix that Eugenia wasvery clever, very brilliant, and the information had held him in somesuspense. This was the cleverness, he supposed; the brilliancy wasbeginning. "Yes, the natural affections are very strong," he murmured.

  "In some people," the Baroness declared. "Not in all." Charlotte waswalking beside her; she took hold of her hand again, smiling always."And you, cousine, where did you get that enchanting complexion?"she went on; "such lilies and roses?" The roses in poor Charlotte'scountenance began speedily to predominate over the lilies, and shequickened her step and reached the portico. "This is the countryof complexions," the Baroness continued, addressing herself to Mr.Wentworth. "I am convinced they are more delicate. There are very goodones in England--in Holland; but they are very apt to be coarse. Thereis too much red."

  "I think you will find," said Mr. Wentworth, "that this country issuperior in many respects to those you mention. I have been to Englandand Holland."

  "Ah, you have been to Europe?" cried the Baroness. "Why did n't you comeand see me? But it 's better, after all, this way," she said. They wereentering the house; she paused and looked round her. "I see you havearranged your house--your beautiful house--in the--in the Dutch taste!"

  "The house is very old," remarked Mr. Wentworth. "General Washingtononce spent a week here."

  "Oh, I have heard of Washington," cried the Baroness. "My father used totell me of him."

  Mr. Wentworth was silent a moment, and then, "I found he was very wellknown in Europe," he said.

  Felix had lingered in the garden with Gertrude; he was standing beforeher and smiling, as he had done the day before. What had happened theday before seemed to her a kind of dream. He had been there and he hadchanged everything; the others had seen him, they had talked with him;but that he should come again, that he should be part of the future,part of her small, familiar, much-meditating life--this needed, afresh,the evidence of her senses. The evidence had come to her senses now;and her senses seemed to rejoice in it. "What do you think of Eugenia?"Felix asked. "Is n't she charming?"

  "She is very brilliant," said Gertrude. "But I can't tell yet. She seemsto me like a singer singing an air. You can't tell till the song isdone."

  "Ah, the song will never be done!" exclaimed the young man, laughing."Don't you think her handsome?"

  Gertrude had been disappointed in the beauty of the Baroness Munster;she had expected her, for mysterious reasons, to resemble a very prettyportrait of the Empress Josephine, of which there hung an engravingin one of the parlors, and which the younger Miss Wentworth had alwaysgreatly admired. But the Baroness was not at all like that--not at all.Though different, however, she was very wonderful, and Gertrude feltherself most suggestively corrected. It was strange, nevertheless, thatFelix should speak in that positive way about his sister's beauty."I think I shall think her handsome," Gertrude said. "It must be veryinteresting to know her. I don't feel as if I ever could."

  "Ah, you will know her well; you will become great friends," Felixdeclared, as if this were the easiest thing in the world.

  "She is very graceful," said Gertrude, looking after the Baroness,suspended to her father's arm. It was a pleasure to her to say that anyone was graceful.

  Felix had been looking about him. "And your little cousin, ofyesterday," he said, "who was so wonderfully pretty--what has become ofher?"

  "She is in the parlor," Gertrude answered. "Yes, she is very pretty."She felt as if it were her duty to take him straight into the house,to where he might be near her cousin. But after hesitat
ing a moment shelingered still. "I did n't believe you would come back," she said.

  "Not come back!" cried Felix, laughing. "You did n't know, then, theimpression made upon this susceptible heart of mine."

  She wondered whether he meant the impression her cousin Lizzie had made."Well," she said, "I did n't think we should ever see you again."

  "And pray what did you think would become of me?"

  "I don't know. I thought you would melt away."

  "That 's a compliment to my solidity! I melt very often," said Felix,"but there is always something left of me."

  "I came and waited for you by the door, because the others did,"Gertrude went on. "But if you had never appeared I should not have beensurprised."

  "I hope," declared Felix, looking at her, "that you would have beendisappointed."

  She looked at him a little, and shook her head. "No--no!"

  "Ah, par exemple!" cried the young man. "You deserve that I should neverleave you."

  Going into the parlor they found Mr. Wentworth performing introductions.A young man was standing before the Baroness, blushing a good deal,laughing a little, and shifting his weight from one foot to the other--aslim, mild-faced young man, with neatly-arranged features, like thoseof Mr. Wentworth. Two other gentlemen, behind him, had risen from theirseats, and a little apart, near one of the windows, stood a remarkablypretty young girl. The young girl was knitting a stocking; but, whileher fingers quickly moved, she looked with wide, brilliant eyes at theBaroness.

  "And what is your son's name?" said Eugenia, smiling at the young man.

  "My name is Clifford Wentworth, ma'am," he said in a tremulous voice.

  "Why did n't you come out to meet me, Mr. Clifford Wentworth?" theBaroness demanded, with her beautiful smile.

  "I did n't think you would want me," said the young man, slowly sidlingabout.

  "One always wants a beau cousin,--if one has one! But if you are verynice to me in future I won't remember it against you." And Madame Munstertransferred her smile to the other persons present. It restedfirst upon the candid countenance and long-skirted figure of Mr. Brand,whose eyes were intently fixed upon Mr. Wentworth, as if to beg him notto prolong an anomalous situation. Mr. Wentworth pronounced his name.Eugenia gave him a very charming glance, and then looked at the othergentleman.

  This latter personage was a man of rather less than the usual statureand the usual weight, with a quick, observant, agreeable dark eye, asmall quantity of thin dark hair, and a small mustache. He had beenstanding with his hands in his pockets; and when Eugenia looked at himhe took them out. But he did not, like Mr. Brand, look evasively andurgently at their host. He met Eugenia's eyes; he appeared to appreciatethe privilege of meeting them. Madame Munster instantly felt that hewas, intrinsically, the most important person present. She was notunconscious that this impression was in some degree manifested in thelittle sympathetic nod with which she acknowledged Mr. Wentworth'sannouncement, "My cousin, Mr. Acton!"

  "Your cousin--not mine?" said the Baroness.

  "It only depends upon you," Mr. Acton declared, laughing.

  The Baroness looked at him a moment, and noticed that he had very whiteteeth. "Let it depend upon your behavior," she said. "I think Ihad better wait. I have cousins enough. Unless I can also claimrelationship," she added, "with that charming young lady," and shepointed to the young girl at the window.

  "That 's my sister," said Mr. Acton. And Gertrude Wentworth put her armround the young girl and led her forward. It was not, apparently, thatshe needed much leading. She came toward the Baroness with a light,quick step, and with perfect self-possession, rolling her stockinground its needles. She had dark blue eyes and dark brown hair; she waswonderfully pretty.

  Eugenia kissed her, as she had kissed the other young women, and thenheld her off a little, looking at her. "Now this is quite another type,"she said; she pronounced the word in the French manner. "This is adifferent outline, my uncle, a different character, from that of yourown daughters. This, Felix," she went on, "is very much more what wehave always thought of as the American type."

  The young girl, during this exposition, was smiling askance at every onein turn, and at Felix out of turn. "I find only one type here!" criedFelix, laughing. "The type adorable!"

  This sally was received in perfect silence, but Felix, who learnedall things quickly, had already learned that the silences frequentlyobserved among his new acquaintances were not necessarily restrictiveor resentful. It was, as one might say, the silence of expectation,of modesty. They were all standing round his sister, as if they wereexpecting her to acquit herself of the exhibition of some peculiarfaculty, some brilliant talent. Their attitude seemed to imply that shewas a kind of conversational mountebank, attired, intellectually, ingauze and spangles. This attitude gave a certain ironical force toMadame Munster's next words. "Now this is your circle," she said to heruncle. "This is your salon. These are your regular habitues, eh? Iam so glad to see you all together."

  "Oh," said Mr. Wentworth, "they are always dropping in and out. You mustdo the same."

  "Father," interposed Charlotte Wentworth, "they must do something more."And she turned her sweet, serious face, that seemed at once timid andplacid, upon their interesting visitor. "What is your name?" she asked.

  "Eugenia-Camilla-Dolores," said the Baroness, smiling. "But you need n'tsay all that."

  "I will say Eugenia, if you will let me. You must come and stay withus."

  The Baroness laid her hand upon Charlotte's arm very tenderly; but shereserved herself. She was wondering whether it would be possible to"stay" with these people. "It would be very charming--very charming,"she said; and her eyes wandered over the company, over the room. Shewished to gain time before committing herself. Her glance fell uponyoung Mr. Brand, who stood there, with his arms folded and his handon his chin, looking at her. "The gentleman, I suppose, is a sort ofecclesiastic," she said to Mr. Wentworth, lowering her voice a little.

  "He is a minister," answered Mr. Wentworth.

  "A Protestant?" asked Eugenia.

  "I am a Unitarian, madam," replied Mr. Brand, impressively.

  "Ah, I see," said Eugenia. "Something new." She had never heard of thisform of worship.

  Mr. Acton began to laugh, and Gertrude looked anxiously at Mr. Brand.

  "You have come very far," said Mr. Wentworth.

  "Very far--very far," the Baroness replied, with a graceful shake of herhead--a shake that might have meant many different things.

  "That 's a reason why you ought to settle down with us," said Mr.Wentworth, with that dryness of utterance which, as Eugenia was toointelligent not to feel, took nothing from the delicacy of his meaning.

  She looked at him, and for an instant, in his cold, still face, sheseemed to see a far-away likeness to the vaguely remembered image of hermother. Eugenia was a woman of sudden emotions, and now, unexpectedly,she felt one rising in her heart. She kept looking round the circle; sheknew that there was admiration in all the eyes that were fixed upon her.She smiled at them all.

  "I came to look--to try--to ask," she said. "It seems to me I have donewell. I am very tired; I want to rest." There were tears in her eyes.The luminous interior, the gentle, tranquil people, the simple, seriouslife--the sense of these things pressed upon her with an overmasteringforce, and she felt herself yielding to one of the most genuine emotionsshe had ever known. "I should like to stay here," she said. "Pray takeme in."

  Though she was smiling, there were tears in her voice as well as in hereyes. "My dear niece," said Mr. Wentworth, softly. And Charlotte putout her arms and drew the Baroness toward her; while Robert Acton turnedaway, with his hands stealing into his pockets.