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Page 32
"Not this trip, thank you," said Dicky, and turned away. Mrs. Portheris,
who had taken her seat, rose with dignity. "In that case," said she, "I
also will remain at the top;" but her determination arrived too late.
With a ferocious gesture the little official shut the door and gave the
signal, and Mrs. Portheris sank earthwards, a vision of outraged
propriety. I felt sorry for momma.
"And now," I inquired of Mr. Dod, "why was the elevator not safe?"
"I'll tell you," said Dicky. "Do you know Mrs. Portheris well?"
"Very slightly indeed," I replied.
"Not well enough to--sort of chum up with our party, I suppose."
"Not for worlds," said I.
Dicky looked so disconsolate that I was touched.
"Still," I said, "you'd better trot out the circumstances, Dicky. We
haven't forgotten what you did in your humble way, you know, at election
time. I can promise for the family that we'll do anything we can. You
mustn't ask us to poison her, but we might lead her into the influenza."
"It's this way," said Mr. Dod. "How remarkably contracted the Place de
la Concorde looks down there, doesn't it! It's like looking through the
wrong end of an opera glass."
"I've observed that," I said. "It won't be fair to keep them waiting
_very_ long down there on the earth, you know, Dicky."
"Certainly not! Well, as I was saying, your poppa's Aunt Caroline is a
perfect fiend of a chaperone. By Jove, Mamie, let's be silhouetted!"
"Poppa was silhouetted," I said, "and the artist turned him out the
image of Senator Frye. Now he doesn't resemble Senator Frye in the least
degree. The elevator is ascending, Richard."
Richard blushed and looked intently at the horizon beyond Montmartre.
"You see, between Miss Portheris and me, it's this way," he began
recklessly, but with the vision before my eyes of momma on the steps
below wanting her tea, I cut him short.
"So far as you are concerned, Dicky, I see the way it is," I interposed
sympathetically. "The question is----"
"Exactly. So it is. About Isabel. But I can't find out. It seems to be
so difficult with an English girl. Doesn't seem to think such a thing as
a--a proposal exists. Now an American girl is just as ready----"
"Richard," I interrupted severely, "the circumstances do not require
international comparisons. By the way, how do you happen to be
travelling with--with Mr. Mafferton?"
"That's exactly where it comes in," Mr. Dod exclaimed luminously. "You'd
think, the way Mafferton purrs round the old lady, he'd been a friend of
the family from the beginning of time! Fact is, he met them two days
before they left London. _I_ had known them a good month, and the
venerable one seemed to take to me considerably. There wasn't a cab she
wouldn't let me call, nor a box at the theatre she wouldn't occupy, nor
a supper she wouldn't try to enjoy. Used to ask me to tea. Inquired
whether I was High or Low. That was awful, because I had to chance it,
being Congregational, but I hit it right--she's Low, too, strong. Isabel
always made the tea out of a canister the old lady kept locked. Singular
habit that, locking tea up in a canister."
"You are wandering, Dicky," I said. "And Isabel used to ask you whether
you would have muffins or brown bread and butter--I know. Go on."
"Girls _have_ intuition," remarked Mr. Dod with a glance of admiration
which I discounted with contempt. "Well, then old Mafferton turned up
here a week ago. Since then I haven't been waltzing in as I did before.
Old lady seems to think there's a chance of keeping the family pure
English--seems to think she'd like it better--see? At least, I take it
that way; he's cousin to a lord," Dick added dejectedly, "and you know
financially I've been coming through a cold season."
"It's awkward," I admitted, "but old ladies of no family are like that
over here. I know Mrs. Portheris is an old lady of no family, because
she's a connection of ours, you see. What about Isabel? Can't you tell
the least bit?"
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