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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1551-h.zip b/1551-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3fd2b3b --- /dev/null +++ b/1551-h.zip diff --git a/1551-h/1551-h.htm b/1551-h/1551-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9829843 --- /dev/null +++ b/1551-h/1551-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1442 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>A Cathedral Courtship</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.headingsummary { margin-left: 5%;} + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray;} + + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">A Cathedral Courtship, by Kate Douglas Wiggin</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Cathedral Courtship, by Kate Douglas Wiggin + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Cathedral Courtship + + +Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin + + + +Release Date: July 7, 2008 [eBook #1551] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1893 Gay and Bird edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">by</span><br /> +KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN</p> +<p style="text-align: center">WITH FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS<br /> +BY CLIFFORD CARLETON</p> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON: GAY AND BIRD<br /> +5 CHANDOS STREET STRAND<br /> +1893</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> +<p style="text-align: center">First Edition June 1893.<br /> +Second Edition July 1893.<br /> +Third Edition September 1893.<br /> +Fourth Edition November 1893.<br /> +Fifth Edition October 1894.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">to my boston +friend</span><br /> +SALEMINA<br /> +<span class="smcap">no anglomaniac</span>, <span +class="smcap">but</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">a true briton</span></p> +<h2>SHE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Winchester</span>, <i>May</i> 28, 1891<br /> +The Royal Garden Inn.</p> +<p>We are doing the English cathedral towns, aunt Celia and +I. Aunt Celia has an intense desire to improve my +mind. Papa told her, when we were leaving Cedarhurst, that +he wouldn’t for the world have it too much improved, and +aunt Celia remarked that, so far as she could judge, there was no +immediate danger; with which exchange of hostilities they +parted.</p> +<p>We are traveling under the yoke of an iron itinerary, +warranted neither to bend nor break. It was made out by a +young High Church curate in New York, and if it had been blessed +by all the bishops and popes it could not be more sacred to aunt +Celia. She is awfully High Church, and I believe she thinks +this tour of the cathedrals will give me a taste for ritual and +bring me into the true fold. I have been hearing dear old +Dr. Kyle a great deal lately, and aunt Celia says that he is the +most dangerous Unitarian she knows, because he has leanings +towards Christianity.</p> +<p>Long ago, in her youth, she was engaged to a young +architect. He, with his triangles and T-squares and things, +succeeded in making an imaginary scale-drawing of her heart (up +to that time a virgin forest, an unmapped territory), which +enabled him to enter in and set up a pedestal there, on which he +has remained ever since. He has been only a memory for many +years, to be sure, for he died at the age of twenty-six, before +he had had time to build anything but a livery stable and a +country hotel. This is fortunate, on the whole, because +aunt Celia thinks he was destined to establish American +architecture on a higher plane,—rid it of its base, +time-serving, imitative instincts, and waft it to a height where, +in the course of centuries, we should have been revered and +followed by all the nations of the earth. I went to see the +livery stable, after one of these Miriam-like flights of prophecy +on the might-have-been. It isn’t fair to judge a +man’s promise by one performance, and that one a livery +stable, so I shall say nothing.</p> +<p>This sentiment about architecture and this fondness for the +very toppingest High Church ritual cause aunt Celia to look on +the English cathedrals with solemnity and reverential awe. +She has given me a fat notebook, with “Katharine +Schuyler” stamped in gold letters on the Russia leather +cover, and a lock and key to protect its feminine +confidences. I am not at all the sort of girl who makes +notes, and I have told her so; but she says that I must at least +record my passing impressions, if they are ever so trivial and +commonplace.</p> +<p>I wanted to go directly from Southampton to London with the +Abbotts, our ship friends, who left us yesterday. Roderick +Abbott and I had had a charming time on board ship (more charming +than aunt Celia knows, because she was very ill, and her natural +powers of chaperoning were severely impaired), and the prospect +of seeing London sights together was not unpleasing; but Roderick +Abbott is not in aunt Celia’s itinerary, which reads: +“Winchester, Salisbury, Wells, Bath, Bristol, Gloucester, +Oxford, London, Ely, Lincoln, York, Durham.”</p> +<p>Aunt Celia is one of those persons who are born to command, +and when they are thrown in contact with those who are born to be +commanded all goes as merry as a marriage bell; otherwise +not.</p> +<p>So here we are at Winchester; and I don’t mind all the +Roderick Abbotts in the universe, now that I have seen the Royal +Garden Inn, its pretty coffee-room opening into the old-fashioned +garden, with its borders of clove pinks, its aviaries, and its +blossoming horse-chestnuts, great towering masses of pink +bloom!</p> +<p>Aunt Celia has driven to St. Cross Hospital with Mrs. +Benedict, an estimable lady tourist whom she “picked +up” en route from Southampton. I am tired, and stayed +at home. I cannot write letters, because aunt Celia has the +guide-books, so I sit by the window in indolent content, watching +the dear little school laddies, with their short jackets and wide +white collars; they all look so jolly, and rosy, and clean, and +kissable! I should like to kiss the chambermaid, too! +She has a pink print dress; no bangs, thank goodness (it’s +curious our servants can’t leave that deformity to the +upper classes), but shining brown hair, plump figure, soft voice, +and a most engaging way of saying, “Yes, miss? +Anythink more, miss?” I long to ask her to sit down +comfortably and be English, while I study her as a type, but of +course I mustn’t. Sometimes I wish I could retire +from the world for a season and do what I like, “surrounded +by the general comfort of being thought mad.”</p> +<p>An elegant, irreproachable, high-minded model of dignity and +reserve has just knocked and inquired what we will have for +dinner. It is very embarrassing to give orders to a person +who looks like a judge of the Supreme Court, but I said +languidly, “What would you suggest?”</p> +<p>“How would you like a clear soup, a good spring soup, to +begin with, miss?”</p> +<p>“Very much.”</p> +<p>“And a bit of turbot next, miss?”</p> +<p>“Yes, turbot, by all means,” I said, my mouth +watering at the word.</p> +<p>“And what for a roast, miss? Would you enjoy a +young duckling, miss?”</p> +<p>“Just the thing; and for dessert”—I +couldn’t think what we ought to have for dessert in +England, but the high-minded model coughed apologetically and +said, “I was thinking you might like gooseberry tart and +cream for a sweet, miss.”</p> +<p>Oh that I could have vented my New World enthusiasm in a +shriek of delight as I heard those intoxicating words, heretofore +met only in English novels!</p> +<p>“Ye-es,” I said hesitatingly, though I was +palpitating with joy, “I fancy we should like gooseberry +tart (here a bright idea entered my mind) and perhaps in case my +aunt doesn’t care for the gooseberry tart, you might bring +a lemon squash, please.”</p> +<p>Now I had never met a lemon squash personally, but I had often +heard of it, and wished to show my familiarity with British +culinary art.</p> +<p>“One lemon squash, miss?”</p> +<p>“Oh, as to that, it doesn’t matter,” I said +haughtily; “bring a sufficient number for two +persons.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>Aunt Celia came home in the highest feather. She had +twice been taken for an Englishwoman. She said she thought +that lemon squash was a drink; I thought it was a pie; but we +shall find out at dinner, for, as I said, I ordered a sufficient +number for two persons.</p> +<p>At four o’clock we attended even-song at the +cathedral. I shall not say what I felt when the +white-surpliced boy choir entered, winding down those vaulted +aisles, or when I heard for the first time that intoned service, +with all its “witchcraft of harmonic sound.” I +sat quite by myself in a high carved-oak seat, and the hour was +passed in a trance of serene delight. I do not have many +opinions, it is true, but papa says I am always strong on +sentiments; nevertheless, I shall not attempt to tell even what I +feel in these new and beautiful experiences, for it has been +better told a thousand times.</p> +<p>There were a great many people at service, and a large number +of Americans among them, I should think, though we saw no +familiar faces. There was one particularly nice young man, +who looked like a Bostonian. He sat opposite me. He +didn’t stare,—he was too well bred; but when I looked +the other way, he looked at me. Of course I could feel his +eyes,—anybody can, at least any girl can; but I attended to +every word of the service, and was as good as an angel. +When the procession had filed out and the last strain of the +great organ had rumbled into silence, we went on a tour through +the cathedral, a heterogeneous band, headed by a conscientious +old verger who did his best to enlighten us, and succeeded in +virtually spoiling my pleasure.</p> +<p>After we had finished (think of “finishing” a +cathedral in an hour or two!), aunt Celia and I, with one or two +others, wandered through the beautiful close, looking at the +exterior from every possible point, and coming at last to a +certain ruined arch which is very famous. It did not strike +me as being remarkable. I could make any number of them +with a pattern, without the least effort. But at any rate, +when told by the verger to gaze upon the beauties of this +wonderful relic and tremble, we were obliged to gaze also upon +the beauties of the aforesaid nice young man, who was sketching +it. As we turned to go away, aunt Celia dropped her +bag. It is one of those detestable, all-absorbing, +all-devouring, thoroughly respectable, but never proud Boston +bags, made of black cloth with leather trimmings, “C. Van +T.” embroidered on the side, and the top drawn up with +stout cords which pass over the Boston wrist or arm. As for +me, I loathe them, and would not for worlds be seen carrying one, +though I do slip a great many necessaries into aunt +Celia’s.</p> +<p>I hastened to pick up the horrid thing, for fear the nice +young man would feel obliged to do it for me; but, in my +indecorous haste, I caught hold of the wrong end and emptied the +entire contents on the stone flagging. Aunt Celia +didn’t notice; she had turned with the verger, lest she +should miss a single word of his inspired testimony. So we +scrambled up the articles together, the nice young man and I; and +oh, I hope I may never look upon his face again!</p> +<p>There were prayer-books and guide-books, a bottle of soda mint +tablets, a spool of dental floss, a Bath bun, a bit of gray frizz +that aunt Celia pins into her steamer cap, a spectacle case, a +brandy flask, and a bonbon box, which broke and scattered cloves +and cardamom seeds. (I hope he guessed aunt Celia is a +dyspeptic, and not intemperate!) All this was hopelessly +vulgar, but I wouldn’t have minded anything if there had +not been a Duchess novel. Of course he thought that it +belonged to me. He couldn’t have known aunt Celia was +carrying it for that accidental Mrs. Benedict, with whom she went +to St. Cross Hospital.</p> +<p>After scooping the cardamom seeds out of the cracks in the +stone flagging, he handed me the tattered, disreputable-looking +copy of “A Modern Circe” with a bow that +wouldn’t have disgraced a Chesterfield, and then went back +to his easel, while I fled after aunt Celia and her verger.</p> +<p>Memoranda: The Winchester Cathedral has the longest +nave. The inside is more superb than the outside. +Izaak Walton and Jane Austen are buried there.</p> +<h2>HE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Winchester</span>, <i>May</i> 28, 1891<br /> +The White Swan.</p> +<p>As sure as my name is Jack Copley, I saw the prettiest girl in +the world to-day,—an American, too, or I’m greatly +mistaken. It was in the cathedral, where I have been +sketching for several days. I was sitting in the end of a +seat, at afternoon service, when two ladies entered by the side +door. The ancient maiden, evidently the head of the family, +settled herself devoutly, and the young one stole off by herself +to one of the old carved seats back of the choir. She was +worse than pretty! I took a sketch of her during service, +as she sat under the dark carved-oak canopy, with this Latin +inscription over her head:—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Carlton +cum</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Dolby</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Letania</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">IX Solidorum</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Super Flumina</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Confitebor tibi</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Düc Probati</span></p> +<p>There ought to be a law against a woman’s making a +picture of herself, unless she is willing to sit and be +sketched.</p> +<p>A black and white sketch doesn’t give any definite idea +of this charmer’s charms, but some time I’ll fill it +in,—hair, sweet little hat, gown, and eyes, all in golden +brown, a cape of tawny sable slipping off her arm, a knot of +yellow primroses in her girdle, carved-oak background, and the +afternoon sun coming through a stained-glass window. Great +Jove! She had a most curious effect on me, that girl! +I can’t explain it,—very curious, altogether new, and +rather pleasant! When one of the choir boys sang, “Oh +for the wings of a dove!” a tear rolled out of one of her +lovely eyes and down her smooth brown cheek. I would have +given a large portion of my modest monthly income for the +felicity of wiping away that teardrop with one of my new +handkerchiefs, marked with a tremendous “C” by my +pretty sister.</p> +<p>An hour or two later they appeared again,—the dragon, +who answers to the name of “aunt Celia,” and the +“nut-brown mayde,” who comes when you call her +“Katharine.” I was sketching a ruined +arch. The dragon dropped her unmistakably Boston bag. +I expected to see encyclopædias and Russian tracts fall +from it, but was disappointed. The nut-brown mayde (who has +been brought up rigidly) hastened to pick up the bag, for fear +that I should serve her by doing it. She was punished by +turning it inside out, and I was rewarded by helping her pick up +the articles, which were many and ill assorted. My little +romance received the first blow when I found that she reads the +Duchess novels. I think, however, she has the grace to be +ashamed of it, for she blushed scarlet when I handed her “A +Modern Circe.” I could have told her that such a +blush on such a cheek would atone for reading Mrs. Southworth, +but I refrained. After she had gone I discovered a slip of +paper which had blown under some stones. It proved to be an +itinerary. I didn’t return it. I thought they +must know which way they were going; and as this was precisely +what I wanted to know, I kept it for my own use. She is +doing the cathedral towns. I am doing the cathedral +towns. Happy thought! Why shouldn’t we do them +together,—we and aunt Celia?</p> +<p>I had only ten minutes—to catch my train for Salisbury, +but I concluded to run in and glance at the registers of the +principal hotels. Found my nut-brown mayde at once on the +pages of the Royal Garden Inn register: “Miss Celia Van +Tyck, Beverly, Mass.; Miss Katharine Schuyler, New +York.” I concluded to stay over another train, +ordered dinner, and took an altogether indefensible and +inconsistent pleasure in writing “John Quincy Copley, +Cambridge, Mass.,” directly beneath the charmer’s +autograph.</p> +<h2>SHE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Salisbury</span>, <i>June</i> 1<br /> +The White Hart Inn.</p> +<p>We left Winchester on the 1.06 train yesterday, and here we +are within sight of another superb and ancient pile of +stone. I wanted so much to stop at the Highflyer Inn in +Lark Lane, but aunt Celia said that if we were destitute of +personal dignity, we at least owed something to our +ancestors. Aunt Celia has a temperamental distrust of joy +as something dangerous and ensnaring. She doesn’t +realize what fun it would be to date one’s letters from the +Highflyer Inn, Lark Lane, even if one were obliged to consort +with poachers and cockneys in order to do it.</p> +<p>We attended service at three. The music was lovely, and +there were beautiful stained-glass windows by Burne-Jones and +Morris. The verger (when wound up with a shilling) talked +like an electric doll. If that nice young man is making a +cathedral tour, like ourselves, he isn’t taking our route, +for he isn’t here. If he has come over for the +purpose of sketching, he wouldn’t stop at sketching one +cathedral. Perhaps he began at the other end and worked +down to Winchester. Yes, that must be it, for the Ems +sailed yesterday from Southampton.</p> +<p>* * *</p> +<p>June 2.</p> +<p>We intended to go to Stonehenge this morning, but it rained, +so we took a “growler” and went to the Earl of +Pembroke’s country place to see the pictures. Had a +delightful morning with the magnificent antiques, curios, and +portraits. The Van Dyck room is a joy forever. There +were other visitors; nobody who looked especially +interesting. Don’t like Salisbury so well as +Winchester. Don’t know why. We shall drive this +afternoon, if it is fair, and go to Wells to-morrow. Must +read Baedeker on the bishop’s palace. Oh dear! if one +could only have a good time and not try to know anything!</p> +<p>Memoranda: <i>This cathedral has the highest spire</i>. +<i>Remember</i>: <i>Winchester</i>, <i>longest nave</i>; +<i>Salisbury</i>, <i>highest spire</i>.</p> +<p><i>The Lancet style is those curved lines meeting in a +rounding or a sharp point like this</i></p> +<p style="text-align: center">[Drawing like two very circular +n’s next to each other]</p> +<p><i>and then joined together like this</i>:</p> +<p style="text-align: center">[Drawing like \/\/\/]</p> +<p><i>the way they used to scallop flannel petticoats</i>. +<i>Gothic looks like triangles meeting together in various spots +and joined with beautiful sort of ornamented knobs</i>. +<i>I think I know Gothic when I see it</i>. <i>Then there +is Norman</i>, <i>Early English</i>, <i>fully developed Early +English</i>, <i>Early and Late Perpendicular</i>, <i>and +Transition</i>. <i>Aunt Celia knows them all apart</i>.</p> +<h2>HE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Salisbury</span>, <i>June</i> 3<br /> +The Red Lion.</p> +<p>I went off on a long tramp this afternoon, and coming on a +pretty river flowing through green meadows, with a fringe of +trees on either side, I sat down to make a sketch. I heard +feminine voices in the vicinity, but, as these are generally a +part of the landscape in the tourist season, I paid no special +notice. Suddenly a dainty patent-leather shoe floated +towards me on the surface of the stream. It evidently had +just dropped in, for it was right side up with care, and was +disporting itself right merrily. “Did ever +Jove’s tree drop such fruit?” I quoted, as I fished +it out on my stick; and just then I heard a distressed voice +saying, “Oh, aunt Celia, I’ve lost my smart little +London shoe. I was sitting in a tree, taking a pebble out +of the heel, when I saw a caterpillar, and I dropped it into the +river, the shoe, you know, not the caterpillar.” +Hereupon she came in sight, and I witnessed the somewhat unusual +spectacle of my nut-brown mayde hopping on one foot, like a +divine stork, and ever and anon emitting a feminine shriek as her +off foot, clad in a delicate silk stocking, came in contact with +the ground. I rose quickly, and, polishing the patent +leather ostentatiously, inside and out, with my handkerchief, I +offered it to her with distinguished grace. She swayed on +her one foot with as much dignity as possible, and then +recognizing me as the person who picked up the contents of aunt +Celia’s bag, she said, dimpling in the most distracting +manner (that’s another thing there ought to be a law +against), “Thank you again; you seem to be a sort of +knight-errant!”</p> +<p>“Shall I—assist you?” I asked. (I +might have known that this was going too far.)</p> +<p>“No, thank you,” she said, with polar +frigidity. “Good-afternoon.” And she +hopped back to her aunt Celia without another word.</p> +<p>I don’t know how to approach aunt Celia. She is +formidable. By a curious accident of feature, for which she +is not in the least responsible, she always wears an unfortunate +expression as of one perceiving some offensive odor in the +immediate vicinity. This may be a mere accident of high +birth. It is the kind of nose often seen in the +“first families,” and her name betrays the fact that +she is of good old Knickerbocker origin. We go to Wells +to-morrow. At least I think we do.</p> +<h2>SHE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Gloucester</span>, <i>June</i> 9<br /> +The Spread Eagle.</p> +<p>I met him at Wells, and again at Bath. We are always +being ridiculous, and he is always rescuing us. Aunt Celia +never really sees him, and thus never recognizes him when he +appears again, always as the flower of chivalry and guardian of +ladies in distress. I will never again travel abroad +without a man, even if I have to hire one from a Feeble-Minded +Asylum. We work like galley slaves, aunt Celia and I, +finding out about trains and things. Neither of us can +understand Bradshaw, and I can’t even grapple with the +lesser intricacies of the A B C railway guide. The trains, +so far as I can see, always arrive before they go out, and I can +never tell whether to read up the page or down. It is +certainly very queer that the stupidest man that breathes, one +that barely escapes idiocy, can disentangle a railway guide, when +the brightest woman fails. Even the Boots at the inn in +Wells took my book, and, rubbing his frightfully dirty finger +down the row of puzzling figures, found the place in a minute, +and said, “There ye are, miss.” It is very +humiliating. All the time I have left from the study of +routes and hotels I spend on guide-books. Now I’m +sure that if any one of the men I know were here, he could tell +me all that is necessary as we walk along the streets. I +don’t say it in a frivolous or sentimental spirit in the +least, but I do affirm that there is hardly any juncture in life +where one isn’t better off for having a man about. I +should never dare divulge this to aunt Celia, for she +doesn’t think men very nice. She excludes them from +conversation as if they were indelicate subjects.</p> +<p>But, to go on, we were standing at the door of Ye Olde Bell +and Horns, at Bath, waiting for the fly which we had ordered to +take us to the station, when who should drive up in a +four-wheeler but the flower of chivalry. Aunt Celia was +saying very audibly, “We shall certainly miss the train if +the man doesn’t come at once.”</p> +<p>“Pray take this fly,” said the flower of +chivalry. “I am not leaving till the next +train.”</p> +<p>Aunt Celia got in without a murmur; I sneaked in after +her. I don’t think she looked at him, though she did +vouchsafe the remark that he seemed to be a civil sort of +person.</p> +<p>At Bristol, I was walking about by myself, and I espied a +sign, “Martha Huggins, Licensed Victualer.” It +was a nice, tidy little shop, with a fire on the hearth and +flowers in the window, and, as it was raining smartly, I thought +no one would catch me if I stepped inside to chat with +Martha. I fancied it would be so delightful and Dickensy to +talk quietly with a licensed victualer by the name of Martha +Huggins.</p> +<p>Just after I had settled myself, the flower of chivalry came +in and ordered ale. I was disconcerted at being found in a +dramshop alone, for I thought, after the bag episode, he might +fancy us a family of inebriates. But he didn’t evince +the slightest astonishment; he merely lifted his hat, and walked +out after he had finished his ale. He certainly has the +loveliest manners!</p> +<p>And so it goes on, and we never get any further. I like +his politeness and his evident feeling that I can’t be +flirted and talked with like a forward boarding-school miss, but +I must say I don’t think much of his ingenuity. Of +course one can’t have all the virtues, but, if I were he, I +would part with my distinguished air, my charming ease, in fact +almost anything, if I could have in exchange a few grains of +common sense, just enough to guide me in the practical affairs of +life.</p> +<p>I wonder what he is? He might be an artist, but he +doesn’t seem quite like an artist; or a dilettante, but he +doesn’t seem in the least like a dilettante. Or he +might be an architect; I think that is the most probable guess of +all. Perhaps he is only “going to be” one of +these things, for he can’t be more than twenty-five or +twenty-six. Still he looks as if he were something already; +that is, he has a kind of self-reliance in his mien,—not +self-assertion, nor self-esteem, but belief in self, as if he +were able, and knew that he was able, to conquer +circumstances.</p> +<h2>HE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Gloucester</span>, <i>June</i> 10<br /> +The Bell.</p> +<p>Nothing accomplished yet. Her aunt is a Van Tyck, and a +stiff one, too. I am a Copley, and that delays +matters. Much depends upon the manner of approach. A +false move would be fatal. We have six more towns (as per +itinerary), and if their thirst for cathedrals isn’t slaked +when these are finished we have the entire continent to do. +If I could only succeed in making an impression on the retina of +aunt Celia’s eye! Though I have been under her feet +for ten days, she never yet has observed me. This +absent-mindedness of hers serves me ill now, but it may prove a +blessing later on.</p> +<h2>SHE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, +<i>June</i> 12<br /> +The Mitre.</p> +<p>It was here in Oxford that a grain of common sense entered the +brain of the flower of chivalry. You might call it the dawn +of reason. We had spent part of the morning in High Street, +“the noblest old street in England,” as our dear +Hawthorne calls it. As Wordsworth had written a sonnet +about it, aunt Celia was armed for the fray,—a volume of +Wordsworth in one hand, and one of Hawthorne in the other. +(I wish Baedeker didn’t give such full information about +what one ought to read before one can approach these places in a +proper spirit.) When we had done High Street, we went to +Magdalen College, and sat down on a bench in Addison’s +Walk, where aunt Celia proceeded to store my mind with the +principal facts of Addison’s career, and his influence on +the literature of the something or other century. The +cramming process over, we wandered along, and came upon +“him” sketching a shady corner of the walk.</p> +<p>Aunt Celia went up behind him, and, Van Tyck though she is, +she could not restrain her admiration of his work. I was +surprised myself: I didn’t suppose so good looking a youth +could do such good work. I retired to a safe distance, and +they chatted together. He offered her the sketch; she +refused to take advantage of his kindness. He said he would +“dash off” another that evening, and bring it to our +hotel,—“so glad to do anything for a +fellow-countryman,” etc. I peeped from behind a tree +and saw him give her his card. It was an awful moment; I +trembled, but she read it with unmistakable approval, and gave +him her own with an expression that meant, “Yours is good, +but beat that if you can!”</p> +<p>She called to me, and I appeared. Mr. John Quincy +Copley, Cambridge, was presented to her niece, Miss Katharine +Schuyler, New York. It was over, and a very small thing to +take so long about, too.</p> +<p>He is an architect, and of course has a smooth path into aunt +Celia’s affections. Theological students, ministers, +missionaries, heroes, and martyrs she may distrust, but +architects never!</p> +<p>“He is an architect, my dear Katharine, and he is a +Copley,” she told me afterwards. “I never knew +a Copley who was not respectable, and many of them have been +more.”</p> +<p>After the introduction was over, aunt Celia asked him +guilelessly if he had visited any other of the English +cathedrals. Any others, indeed! This to a youth who +had been all but in her lap for a fortnight! It was a blow, +but he rallied bravely, and, with an amused look in my direction, +replied discreetly that he had visited most of them at one time +or another. I refused to let him see that I had ever +noticed him before; that is, particularly.</p> +<p>Memoranda: “The very stones and mortar of this historic +town seem impregnated with the spirit of restful +antiquity.” (Extract from one of aunt Celia’s +letters.) Among the great men who have studied here are the +Prince of Wales, Duke of Wellington, Gladstone, Sir Robert Peel, +Sir Philip Sidney, William Penn, John Locke, the two Wesleys, +Ruskin, Ben Jonson, and Thomas Otway. (Look Otway up.)</p> +<h2>HE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Oxford</span>, +<i>June</i> 13<br /> +The Angel.</p> +<p>I have done it, and if I hadn’t been a fool and a coward +I might have done it a week ago, and spared myself a good deal of +delicious torment. I have just given two hours to a sketch +of Addison’s Walk and carried it to aunt Celia at the +Mitre. Object, to find out whether they make a long stay in +London (our next point), and if so where. It seems they go +directly through. I said in the course of conversation, +“So Miss Schuyler is willing to forego a London +season? Marvelous self-denial!”</p> +<p>“My niece did not come to Europe for a London +season,” replied Miss Van Tyck. “We go through +London this time merely as a cathedral town, simply because it +chances to be where it is geographically. We shall visit +St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey, and then go directly on, +that our chain of impressions may have absolute continuity and be +free from any disturbing elements.”</p> +<p>Oh, but she is lovely, is aunt Celia!</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Lincoln</span>, +<i>June</i> 20<br /> +The Black Boy Inn.</p> +<p>I am stopping at a beastly little hole, which has the one +merit of being opposite Miss Schuyler’s lodgings. My +sketch-book has deteriorated in artistic value during the last +two weeks. Many of its pages, while interesting to me as +reminiscences, will hardly do for family or studio +exhibition. If I should label them, the result would be +something like this:—</p> +<p>1. Sketch of a footstool and desk where I first saw Miss +Schuyler kneeling.</p> +<p>2. Sketch of a carved-oak chair, Miss Schuyler sitting +in it.</p> +<p>3. “Angel Choir.” Heads of Miss +Schuyler introduced into the carving.</p> +<p>4. Altar screen. Full length figure of Miss +Schuyler holding lilies.</p> +<p>5. Tomb of a bishop, where I tied Miss Schuyler’s +shoe.</p> +<p>6. Tomb of another bishop, where I had to tie it again +because I did it so badly the first time.</p> +<p>7. Sketch of the shoe; the shoe-lace worn out with much +tying.</p> +<p>8. Sketch of the blessed verger who called her +“madam,” when we were walking together.</p> +<p>9. Sketch of her blush when he did it the prettiest +thing in the world.</p> +<p>10. Sketch of J. Q. Copley contemplating the ruins of +his heart.</p> +<p>“How are the mighty fallen!”</p> +<h2>SHE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Lincoln</span>, +<i>June</i> 22<br /> +At Miss Brown’s, Castle Garden.</p> +<p>Mr. Copley <i>has</i> done something in the world; I was sure +that he had. He has a little income of his own, but he is +too proud and ambitious to be an idler. He looked so manly +when he talked about it, standing up straight and strong in his +knickerbockers. I like men in knickerbockers. Aunt +Celia doesn’t. She says she doesn’t see how a +well-brought-up Copley can go about with his legs in that +condition. I would give worlds to know how aunt Celia ever +unbent sufficiently to get engaged. But, as I was saying, +Mr. Copley has accomplished something, young as he is. He +has built three picturesque suburban churches suitable for +weddings, and a state lunatic asylum.</p> +<p>Aunt Celia says we shall have no worthy architecture until +every building is made an exquisitely sincere representation of +its deepest purpose,—a symbol, as it were, of its +indwelling meaning. I should think it would be very +difficult to design a lunatic asylum on that basis, but I +didn’t dare say so, as Mr. Copley seemed to think it all +right. Their conversation is absolutely sublimated when +they get to talking of architecture. I have just copied two +quotations from Emerson, and am studying them every night for +fifteen minutes before I go to sleep. I’m going to +quote them some time offhand, just after morning service, when we +are wandering about the cathedral grounds. The first is +this: “The Gothic cathedral is a blossoming in stone, +subdued by the insatiable demand of harmony in man. The +mountain of granite blooms into an eternal flower, with the +lightness and delicate finish as well as the aerial proportion +and perspective of vegetable beauty.” Then when he +has recovered from the shock of this, here is my second: +“Nor can any lover of nature enter the old piles of Oxford +and English cathedrals without feeling that the forest +overpowered the mind of the builder, and that his chisel, his saw +and plane, still reproduced its ferns, its spikes of flowers, its +locust, elm, pine, and spruce.”</p> +<p>Memoranda: <i>Lincoln choir is an example of Early English or +First Pointed</i>, <i>which can generally be told from something +else by bold projecting buttresses and dog-tooth moulding round +the abacusses</i>. (The plural is my own, and it does not +look right.) <i>Lincoln Castle was the scene of many +prolonged sieges</i>, <i>and was once taken by Oliver +Cromwell</i>.</p> +<h2>HE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">York</span>, +<i>June</i> 24<br /> +The Black Swan.</p> +<p>Kitty Schuyler is the concentrated essence of feminine +witchery. Intuition strong, logic weak, and the two +qualities so balanced as to produce an indefinable charm; +will-power large, but docility equal, if a man is clever enough +to know how to manage her; knowledge of facts absolutely nil, but +she is exquisitely intelligent in spite of it. She has a +way of evading, escaping, eluding, and then gives you an +intoxicating hint of sudden and complete surrender. She is +divinely innocent, but roguishness saves her from +insipidity. Her looks? She looks as you would imagine +a person might look who possessed these graces; and she is worth +looking at, though every time I do it I have a rush of love to +the head. When you find a girl who combines all the +qualities you have imagined in the ideal, and who has added a +dozen or two on her own account, merely to distract you past all +hope, why stand up and try to resist her charm? Down on +your knees like a man, say I!</p> +<p style="text-align: center">* * * * *</p> +<p>I’m getting to adore aunt Celia. I didn’t +care for her at first, but she is so deliciously blind! +Anything more exquisitely unserviceable as a chaperon I +can’t imagine. Absorbed in antiquity, she ignores the +babble of contemporaneous lovers. That any man could look +at Kitty when he could look at a cathedral passes her +comprehension. I do not presume too greatly on her +absent-mindedness, however, lest she should turn unexpectedly and +rend me. I always remember that inscription on the backs of +the little mechanical French toys,—“Quoiqu’elle +soit très solidement montée, il faut ne pas +brutaliser la machine.”</p> +<p>And so my courtship progresses under aunt Celia’s very +nose. I say “progresses,” but it is impossible +to speak with any certainty of courting, for the essence of that +gentle craft is hope, rooted in labor and trained by love.</p> +<p>I set out to propose to her during service this afternoon by +writing my feelings on the fly-leaf of the hymn-book, or +something like that; but I knew that aunt Celia would never +forgive such blasphemy, and I thought that Kitty herself might +consider it wicked. Besides, if she should chance to accept +me, there was nothing I could do, in a cathedral, to relieve my +feelings. No; if she ever accepts me, I wish it to be in a +large, vacant spot of the universe, peopled by two only, and +those two so indistinguishably blended, as it were, that they +would appear as one to the casual observer. So I practiced +repression, though the wall of my reserve is worn to the thinness +of thread-paper, and I tried to keep my mind on the droning minor +canon, and not to look at her, “for that way madness +lies.”</p> +<h2>SHE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">York</span>, +<i>June</i> 26<br /> +High Petersgate Street.</p> +<p>My taste is so bad! I just begin to realize it, and I am +feeling my “growing pains,” like Gwendolen in +“Daniel Deronda.” I admired the stained glass +in the Lincoln Cathedral, especially the Nuremberg window. +I thought Mr. Copley looked pained, but he said nothing. +When I went to my room, I looked in a book and found that all the +glass in that cathedral is very modern and very bad, and the +Nuremberg window is the worst of all. Aunt Celia says she +hopes that it will be a warning to me to read before I speak; but +Mr. Copley says no, that the world would lose more in one way +than it would gain in the other. I tried my quotations this +morning, and stuck fast in the middle of the first.</p> +<p>Mr. Copley says that aunt Celia has been feeing the vergers +altogether too much, and I wrote a song about it called +“The Ballad of the Vergers and the Foolish Virgin,” +which I sang to my guitar. Mr. Copley says it is cleverer +than anything he ever did with his pencil, but of course he says +that only to be agreeable.</p> +<p>We all went to an evening service last night. Coming +home, aunt Celia walked ahead with Mrs. Benedict, who keeps +turning up at the most unexpected moments. She’s +going to build a Gothicky memorial chapel somewhere. I +don’t know for whom, unless it’s for Benedict +Arnold. I don’t like her in the least, but four is +certainly a more comfortable number than three. I scarcely +ever have a moment alone with Mr. Copley; for go where I will and +do what I please, aunt Celia has the most perfect confidence in +my indiscretion, so she is always <i>en évidence</i>.</p> +<p>Just as we were turning into the quiet little street where we +are lodging I said, “Oh dear, I wish that I knew something +about architecture!”</p> +<p>“If you don’t know anything about it, you are +certainly responsible for a good deal of it,” said Mr. +Copley.</p> +<p>“I? How do you mean?” I asked quite +innocently, because I couldn’t see how he could twist such +a remark as that into anything like sentiment.</p> +<p>“I have never built so many castles in my life as since +I’ve known you, Miss Schuyler,” he said.</p> +<p>“Oh,” I answered as lightly as I could, +“air-castles don’t count.”</p> +<p>“The building of air-castles is an innocent amusement +enough, I suppose,” he said, “but I’m +committing the folly of living in mine. I”—</p> +<p>Then I was frightened. When, all at once, you find you +have something precious you only dimly suspected was to be yours, +you almost wish it hadn’t come so soon. But just at +that moment Mrs. Benedict called to us, and came tramping back +from the gate, and hooked her supercilious, patronizing arm in +Mr. Copley’s, and asked him into the sitting-room to talk +over the “lady chapel” in her new memorial +church. Then aunt Celia told me they would excuse me, as I +had had a wearisome day; and there was nothing for me to do but +to go to bed, like a snubbed child, and wonder if I should ever +know the end of that sentence. And I listened at the head +of the stairs, shivering, but all that I could hear was that Mrs. +Benedict asked Mr. Copley to be her own architect. Her +architect indeed! That woman ought not to be at large!</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Durham</span>, +<i>July</i> 15<br /> +At Farmer Hendry’s.</p> +<p>We left York this morning, and arrived here about eleven +o’clock. It seems there is some sort of an election +going on in the town, and there was not a single fly at the +station. Mr. Copley walked about in every direction, but +neither horse nor vehicle was to be had for love nor money. +At last we started to walk to the village, Mr. Copley so laden +with our hand-luggage that he resembled a pack-mule. We +made a tour of the inns, but not a single room was to be had, not +for that night nor for three days ahead, on account of that same +election.</p> +<p>“Hadn’t we better go on to Edinburgh, aunt +Celia?” I asked.</p> +<p>“Edinburgh? Never!” she replied. +“Do you suppose that I would voluntarily spend a Sunday in +those bare Presbyterian churches until the memory of these past +ideal weeks has faded a little from my memory? What, leave +out Durham and spoil the set?” (She spoke of the +cathedrals as if they were souvenir spoons.) “I +intended to stay here for a week or more, and write up a record +of our entire trip from Winchester while the impressions were +fresh in my mind.”</p> +<p>“And I had intended doing the same thing,” said +Mr. Copley. “That is, I hoped to finish off my +previous sketches, which are in a frightful state of +incompletion, and spend a good deal of time on the interior of +this cathedral, which is unusually beautiful.” (At +this juncture aunt Celia disappeared for a moment to ask the +barmaid if, in her opinion, the constant consumption of malt +liquors prevents a more dangerous indulgence in brandy and +whiskey. She is gathering statistics, but as the barmaids +can never collect their thoughts while they are drawing ale, aunt +Celia proceeds slowly.)</p> +<p>“For my part,” said I, with mock humility, +“I am a docile person who never has any intentions of her +own, but who yields herself sweetly to the intentions of other +people in her immediate vicinity.”</p> +<p>“Are you?” asked Mr. Copley, taking out his +pencil.</p> +<p>“Yes, I said so. What are you doing?”</p> +<p>“Merely taking note of your statement, that’s +all.—Now, Miss Van Tyck, I have a plan to propose. I +was here last summer with a couple of Harvard men, and we lodged +at a farmhouse half a mile from the cathedral. If you will +step into the coffee-room of the Shoulder of Mutton and +Cauliflower for an hour, I’ll walk up to Farmer +Hendry’s and see if they will take us in. I think we +might be fairly comfortable.”</p> +<p>“Can aunt Celia have Apollinaris and black coffee after +her morning bath?” I asked.</p> +<p>“I hope, Katharine,” said aunt Celia +majestically,—“I hope that I can accommodate myself +to circumstances. If Mr. Copley can secure lodgings for us, +I shall be more than grateful.”</p> +<p>So here we are, all lodging together in an ideal English +farmhouse. There is a thatched roof on one of the old +buildings, and the dairy house is covered with ivy, and Farmer +Hendry’s wife makes a real English courtesy, and there are +herds of beautiful sleek Durham cattle, and the butter and cream +and eggs and mutton are delicious; and I never, never want to go +home any more. I want to live here forever, and wave the +American flag on Washington’s birthday.</p> +<p>I am so happy that I feel as if something were going to spoil +it all. Twenty years old to-day! I wish mamma were +alive to wish me many happy returns.</p> +<p>Memoranda: Casual remark for breakfast table or perhaps for +luncheon,—it is a trifle heavy for breakfast: “Since +the sixteenth century and despite the work of Inigo Jones and the +great Wren (not Jenny Wren—Christopher), architecture has +had, in England especially, no legitimate development.”</p> +<h2>HE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Durham</span>, +<i>July</i> 19</p> +<p>O child of fortune, thy name is J. Q. Copley! How did it +happen to be election time? Why did the inns chance to be +full? How did aunt Celia relax sufficiently to allow me to +find her a lodging? Why did she fall in love with the +lodging when found? I do not know. I only know Fate +smiles; that Kitty and I eat our morning bacon and eggs together; +that I carve Kitty’s cold beef and pour Kitty’s +sparkling ale at luncheon; that I go to vespers with Kitty, and +dine with Kitty, and walk in the gloaming with Kitty—and +aunt Celia. And after a day of heaven like this, like Lorna +Doone’s lover,—ay, and like every other lover, I +suppose,—I go to sleep, and the roof above me swarms with +angels, having Kitty under it!</p> +<p>We were coming home from afternoon service, Kitty and I. +(I am anticipating for she was “Miss Schuyler” then, +but never mind.) We were walking through the fields, while +Mrs. Benedict and aunt Celia were driving. As we came +across a corner of the bit of meadow land that joins the stable +and the garden, we heard a muffled roar, and as we looked round +we saw a creature with tossing horns and waving tail making for +us, head down, eyes flashing. Kitty gave a shriek. We +chanced to be near a pair of low bars. I hadn’t been +a college athlete for nothing. I swung Kitty over the bars, +and jumped after her. But she, not knowing in her fright +where she was nor what she was doing; supposing, also, that the +mad creature, like the villain in the play, would “still +pursue her,” flung herself bodily into my arms, crying, +“Jack! Jack! Save me!”</p> +<p>“It was the first time she had called me Jack,” +and I needed no second invitation. I proceeded to save +her,—in the usual way, by holding her to my heart and +kissing her lovely hair reassuringly, as I murmured: “You +are safe, my darling; not a hair of your precious head shall be +hurt. Don’t be frightened.”</p> +<p>She shivered like a leaf. “I am frightened,” +she said. “I can’t help being frightened. +He will chase us, I know. Where is he? What is he +doing now?”</p> +<p>Looking up to determine if I need abbreviate this blissful +moment, I saw the enraged animal disappearing in the side door of +the barn; and it was a nice, comfortable Durham cow,—that +somewhat rare but possible thing, a sportive cow!</p> +<p>“Is he gone?” breathed Kitty from my +waistcoat.</p> +<p>“Yes, he is gone—she is gone, darling. But +don’t move; it may come again.”</p> +<p>My first too hasty assurance had calmed Kitty’s fears, +and she raised her charming flushed face from its retreat and +prepared to withdraw. I did not facilitate the +preparations, and a moment of awkward silence ensued.</p> +<p>“Might I inquire,” I asked, “if the dear +little person at present reposing in my arms will stay there +(with intervals for rest and refreshment) for the rest of her +natural life?”</p> +<p>She withdrew entirely now, all but her hand, and her eyes +sought the ground.</p> +<p>“I suppose I shall have to now,—that is, if you +think—at least, I suppose you do think—at any rate, +you look as if you were thinking—that this has been giving +you encouragement.”</p> +<p>“I do indeed,—decisive, undoubted, barefaced +encouragement.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think I ought to be judged as if I were +in my sober senses,” she replied. “I was +frightened within an inch of my life. I told you this +morning that I was dreadfully afraid of bulls, especially mad +ones, and I told you that my nurse frightened me, when I was a +child, with awful stories about them, and that I never outgrew my +childish terror. I looked everywhere about: the barn was +too far, the fence too high, I saw him coming, and there was +nothing but you and the open country; of course I took you. +It was very natural, I’m sure,—any girl would have +done it.”</p> +<p>“To be sure,” I replied soothingly, “any +girl would have run after me, as you say.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t say any girl would have run after +you,—you needn’t flatter yourself; and besides, I +think I was really trying to protect you as well as to gain +protection; else why should I have cast myself on you like a +catamount, or a catacomb, or whatever the thing is?”</p> +<p>“Yes, darling, I thank you for saving my life, and I am +willing to devote the remainder of it to your service as a pledge +of my gratitude; but if you should take up life-saving as a +profession, dear, don’t throw yourself on a fellow +with”—</p> +<p>“Jack! Jack!” she cried, putting her hand over my +lips, and getting it well kissed in consequence. “If +you will only forget that, and never, never taunt me with it +afterwards, I’ll—I’ll—well, I’ll do +anything in reason; yes, even marry you!”</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Canterbury</span>, <i>July</i> 31<br /> +The Royal Fountain.</p> +<p>I was never sure enough of Kitty, at first, to dare risk +telling her about that little mistake of hers. She is such +an elusive person that I spend all my time in wooing her, and can +never lay flattering unction to my soul that she is really +won.</p> +<p>But after aunt Celia had looked up my family record and given +a provisional consent, and papa Schuyler had cabled a reluctant +blessing, I did not feel capable of any further +self-restraint.</p> +<p>It was twilight here in Canterbury, and we were sitting on the +vine-shaded veranda of aunt Celia’s lodging. +Kitty’s head was on my shoulder. There is something +very queer about that; when Kitty’s head is on my shoulder, +I am not capable of any consecutive train of thought. When +she puts it there I see stars, then myriads of stars, then, oh! I +can’t begin to enumerate the steps by which ecstasy mounts +to delirium; but at all events, any operation which demands +exclusive use of the intellect is beyond me at these times. +Still I gathered my stray wits together and said, +“Kitty!”</p> +<p>“Yes, Jack?”</p> +<p>“Now that nothing but death or marriage can separate us, +I have something to confess to you.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she said serenely, “I know what you +are going to say. He was a cow.”</p> +<p>I lifted her head from my shoulder sternly, and gazed into her +childlike, candid eyes.</p> +<p>“You mountain of deceit! How long have you known +about it?”</p> +<p>“Ever since the first. Oh, Jack, stop looking at +me in that way! Not the very first, not when I—not +when you—not when we—no, not then, but the next +morning I said to Farmer Hendry, ‘I wish you would keep +your savage bull chained up while we are here; aunt Celia is +awfully afraid of them, especially those that go mad, like +yours!’ ‘Lor’, miss,’ said Farmer +Hendry, ‘he haven’t been pastured here for three +weeks. I keep him six mile away. There ben’t +nothing but gentle cows in the home medder.’ But I +didn’t think that you knew, you secretive person! I +dare say you planned the whole thing in advance, in order to take +advantage of my fright!”</p> +<p>“Never! I am incapable of such an unnecessary +subterfuge! Besides, Kitty, I could not have made an +accomplice of a cow, you know.”</p> +<p>“Then,” she said, with great dignity, “if +you had been a gentleman and a man of honor, you would have +cried, ‘Unhand me, girl! You are clinging to me under +a misunderstanding!’”</p> +<h2>SHE</h2> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Chester</span>, +<i>August</i> 8<br /> +The Grosvenor.</p> +<p>Jack and I are going over this same ground next summer, on our +wedding trip. We shall sail for home next week, and we +haven’t half done justice to the cathedrals. After +the first two, we saw nothing but each other on a general +background of architecture. I hope my mind is improved, but +oh, I am so hazy about all the facts I have read since I knew +Jack! Winchester and Salisbury stand out superbly in my +memory. They acquired their ground before it was occupied +with other matters. I shall never forget, for instance, +that Winchester has the longest spire and Salisbury the highest +nave of all the English cathedrals. And I shall never +forget so long as I live that Jane Austen and Isaac Newt—Oh +dear! was it Isaac Newton or Izaak Walton that was buried in +Winchester and Salisbury? To think that that interesting +fact should have slipped from my mind, after all the trouble I +took with it! But I know that it was Isaac somebody, and +that he was buried in—well, he was buried in one of those +two places. I am not certain which, but I can ask Jack; he +is sure to know.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 1551-h.htm or 1551-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/1551 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Cathedral Courtship + + +Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin + + + +Release Date: July 7, 2008 [eBook #1551] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP*** + + +Transcribed from the 1893 Gay and Bird edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP + + + BY + KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN + + WITH FIVE ILLUSTRATIONS + BY CLIFFORD CARLETON + + LONDON: GAY AND BIRD + 5 CHANDOS STREET STRAND + 1893 + + _All rights reserved_ + + First Edition June 1893. + Second Edition July 1893. + Third Edition September 1893. + Fourth Edition November 1893. + Fifth Edition October 1894. + + TO MY BOSTON FRIEND + SALEMINA + NO ANGLOMANIAC, BUT + A TRUE BRITON + + + + + SHE + + + WINCHESTER, _May_ 28, 1891 + The Royal Garden Inn. + +We are doing the English cathedral towns, aunt Celia and I. Aunt Celia +has an intense desire to improve my mind. Papa told her, when we were +leaving Cedarhurst, that he wouldn't for the world have it too much +improved, and aunt Celia remarked that, so far as she could judge, there +was no immediate danger; with which exchange of hostilities they parted. + +We are traveling under the yoke of an iron itinerary, warranted neither +to bend nor break. It was made out by a young High Church curate in New +York, and if it had been blessed by all the bishops and popes it could +not be more sacred to aunt Celia. She is awfully High Church, and I +believe she thinks this tour of the cathedrals will give me a taste for +ritual and bring me into the true fold. I have been hearing dear old Dr. +Kyle a great deal lately, and aunt Celia says that he is the most +dangerous Unitarian she knows, because he has leanings towards +Christianity. + +Long ago, in her youth, she was engaged to a young architect. He, with +his triangles and T-squares and things, succeeded in making an imaginary +scale-drawing of her heart (up to that time a virgin forest, an unmapped +territory), which enabled him to enter in and set up a pedestal there, on +which he has remained ever since. He has been only a memory for many +years, to be sure, for he died at the age of twenty-six, before he had +had time to build anything but a livery stable and a country hotel. This +is fortunate, on the whole, because aunt Celia thinks he was destined to +establish American architecture on a higher plane,--rid it of its base, +time-serving, imitative instincts, and waft it to a height where, in the +course of centuries, we should have been revered and followed by all the +nations of the earth. I went to see the livery stable, after one of +these Miriam-like flights of prophecy on the might-have-been. It isn't +fair to judge a man's promise by one performance, and that one a livery +stable, so I shall say nothing. + +This sentiment about architecture and this fondness for the very +toppingest High Church ritual cause aunt Celia to look on the English +cathedrals with solemnity and reverential awe. She has given me a fat +notebook, with "Katharine Schuyler" stamped in gold letters on the Russia +leather cover, and a lock and key to protect its feminine confidences. I +am not at all the sort of girl who makes notes, and I have told her so; +but she says that I must at least record my passing impressions, if they +are ever so trivial and commonplace. + +I wanted to go directly from Southampton to London with the Abbotts, our +ship friends, who left us yesterday. Roderick Abbott and I had had a +charming time on board ship (more charming than aunt Celia knows, because +she was very ill, and her natural powers of chaperoning were severely +impaired), and the prospect of seeing London sights together was not +unpleasing; but Roderick Abbott is not in aunt Celia's itinerary, which +reads: "Winchester, Salisbury, Wells, Bath, Bristol, Gloucester, Oxford, +London, Ely, Lincoln, York, Durham." + +Aunt Celia is one of those persons who are born to command, and when they +are thrown in contact with those who are born to be commanded all goes as +merry as a marriage bell; otherwise not. + +So here we are at Winchester; and I don't mind all the Roderick Abbotts +in the universe, now that I have seen the Royal Garden Inn, its pretty +coffee-room opening into the old-fashioned garden, with its borders of +clove pinks, its aviaries, and its blossoming horse-chestnuts, great +towering masses of pink bloom! + +Aunt Celia has driven to St. Cross Hospital with Mrs. Benedict, an +estimable lady tourist whom she "picked up" en route from Southampton. I +am tired, and stayed at home. I cannot write letters, because aunt Celia +has the guide-books, so I sit by the window in indolent content, watching +the dear little school laddies, with their short jackets and wide white +collars; they all look so jolly, and rosy, and clean, and kissable! I +should like to kiss the chambermaid, too! She has a pink print dress; no +bangs, thank goodness (it's curious our servants can't leave that +deformity to the upper classes), but shining brown hair, plump figure, +soft voice, and a most engaging way of saying, "Yes, miss? Anythink +more, miss?" I long to ask her to sit down comfortably and be English, +while I study her as a type, but of course I mustn't. Sometimes I wish I +could retire from the world for a season and do what I like, "surrounded +by the general comfort of being thought mad." + +An elegant, irreproachable, high-minded model of dignity and reserve has +just knocked and inquired what we will have for dinner. It is very +embarrassing to give orders to a person who looks like a judge of the +Supreme Court, but I said languidly, "What would you suggest?" + +"How would you like a clear soup, a good spring soup, to begin with, +miss?" + +"Very much." + +"And a bit of turbot next, miss?" + +"Yes, turbot, by all means," I said, my mouth watering at the word. + +"And what for a roast, miss? Would you enjoy a young duckling, miss?" + +"Just the thing; and for dessert"--I couldn't think what we ought to have +for dessert in England, but the high-minded model coughed apologetically +and said, "I was thinking you might like gooseberry tart and cream for a +sweet, miss." + +Oh that I could have vented my New World enthusiasm in a shriek of +delight as I heard those intoxicating words, heretofore met only in +English novels! + +"Ye-es," I said hesitatingly, though I was palpitating with joy, "I fancy +we should like gooseberry tart (here a bright idea entered my mind) and +perhaps in case my aunt doesn't care for the gooseberry tart, you might +bring a lemon squash, please." + +Now I had never met a lemon squash personally, but I had often heard of +it, and wished to show my familiarity with British culinary art. + +"One lemon squash, miss?" + +"Oh, as to that, it doesn't matter," I said haughtily; "bring a +sufficient number for two persons." + + * * * * * + +Aunt Celia came home in the highest feather. She had twice been taken +for an Englishwoman. She said she thought that lemon squash was a drink; +I thought it was a pie; but we shall find out at dinner, for, as I said, +I ordered a sufficient number for two persons. + +At four o'clock we attended even-song at the cathedral. I shall not say +what I felt when the white-surpliced boy choir entered, winding down +those vaulted aisles, or when I heard for the first time that intoned +service, with all its "witchcraft of harmonic sound." I sat quite by +myself in a high carved-oak seat, and the hour was passed in a trance of +serene delight. I do not have many opinions, it is true, but papa says I +am always strong on sentiments; nevertheless, I shall not attempt to tell +even what I feel in these new and beautiful experiences, for it has been +better told a thousand times. + +There were a great many people at service, and a large number of +Americans among them, I should think, though we saw no familiar faces. +There was one particularly nice young man, who looked like a Bostonian. +He sat opposite me. He didn't stare,--he was too well bred; but when I +looked the other way, he looked at me. Of course I could feel his +eyes,--anybody can, at least any girl can; but I attended to every word +of the service, and was as good as an angel. When the procession had +filed out and the last strain of the great organ had rumbled into +silence, we went on a tour through the cathedral, a heterogeneous band, +headed by a conscientious old verger who did his best to enlighten us, +and succeeded in virtually spoiling my pleasure. + +After we had finished (think of "finishing" a cathedral in an hour or +two!), aunt Celia and I, with one or two others, wandered through the +beautiful close, looking at the exterior from every possible point, and +coming at last to a certain ruined arch which is very famous. It did not +strike me as being remarkable. I could make any number of them with a +pattern, without the least effort. But at any rate, when told by the +verger to gaze upon the beauties of this wonderful relic and tremble, we +were obliged to gaze also upon the beauties of the aforesaid nice young +man, who was sketching it. As we turned to go away, aunt Celia dropped +her bag. It is one of those detestable, all-absorbing, all-devouring, +thoroughly respectable, but never proud Boston bags, made of black cloth +with leather trimmings, "C. Van T." embroidered on the side, and the top +drawn up with stout cords which pass over the Boston wrist or arm. As +for me, I loathe them, and would not for worlds be seen carrying one, +though I do slip a great many necessaries into aunt Celia's. + +I hastened to pick up the horrid thing, for fear the nice young man would +feel obliged to do it for me; but, in my indecorous haste, I caught hold +of the wrong end and emptied the entire contents on the stone flagging. +Aunt Celia didn't notice; she had turned with the verger, lest she should +miss a single word of his inspired testimony. So we scrambled up the +articles together, the nice young man and I; and oh, I hope I may never +look upon his face again! + +There were prayer-books and guide-books, a bottle of soda mint tablets, a +spool of dental floss, a Bath bun, a bit of gray frizz that aunt Celia +pins into her steamer cap, a spectacle case, a brandy flask, and a bonbon +box, which broke and scattered cloves and cardamom seeds. (I hope he +guessed aunt Celia is a dyspeptic, and not intemperate!) All this was +hopelessly vulgar, but I wouldn't have minded anything if there had not +been a Duchess novel. Of course he thought that it belonged to me. He +couldn't have known aunt Celia was carrying it for that accidental Mrs. +Benedict, with whom she went to St. Cross Hospital. + +After scooping the cardamom seeds out of the cracks in the stone +flagging, he handed me the tattered, disreputable-looking copy of "A +Modern Circe" with a bow that wouldn't have disgraced a Chesterfield, and +then went back to his easel, while I fled after aunt Celia and her +verger. + +Memoranda: The Winchester Cathedral has the longest nave. The inside is +more superb than the outside. Izaak Walton and Jane Austen are buried +there. + + + + + HE + + + WINCHESTER, _May_ 28, 1891 + The White Swan. + +As sure as my name is Jack Copley, I saw the prettiest girl in the world +to-day,--an American, too, or I'm greatly mistaken. It was in the +cathedral, where I have been sketching for several days. I was sitting +in the end of a seat, at afternoon service, when two ladies entered by +the side door. The ancient maiden, evidently the head of the family, +settled herself devoutly, and the young one stole off by herself to one +of the old carved seats back of the choir. She was worse than pretty! I +took a sketch of her during service, as she sat under the dark carved-oak +canopy, with this Latin inscription over her head:-- + + CARLTON CUM + DOLBY + LETANIA + IX SOLIDORUM + SUPER FLUMINA + CONFITEBOR TIBI + DUC PROBATI + +There ought to be a law against a woman's making a picture of herself, +unless she is willing to sit and be sketched. + +A black and white sketch doesn't give any definite idea of this charmer's +charms, but some time I'll fill it in,--hair, sweet little hat, gown, and +eyes, all in golden brown, a cape of tawny sable slipping off her arm, a +knot of yellow primroses in her girdle, carved-oak background, and the +afternoon sun coming through a stained-glass window. Great Jove! She +had a most curious effect on me, that girl! I can't explain it,--very +curious, altogether new, and rather pleasant! When one of the choir boys +sang, "Oh for the wings of a dove!" a tear rolled out of one of her +lovely eyes and down her smooth brown cheek. I would have given a large +portion of my modest monthly income for the felicity of wiping away that +teardrop with one of my new handkerchiefs, marked with a tremendous "C" +by my pretty sister. + +An hour or two later they appeared again,--the dragon, who answers to the +name of "aunt Celia," and the "nut-brown mayde," who comes when you call +her "Katharine." I was sketching a ruined arch. The dragon dropped her +unmistakably Boston bag. I expected to see encyclopaedias and Russian +tracts fall from it, but was disappointed. The nut-brown mayde (who has +been brought up rigidly) hastened to pick up the bag, for fear that I +should serve her by doing it. She was punished by turning it inside out, +and I was rewarded by helping her pick up the articles, which were many +and ill assorted. My little romance received the first blow when I found +that she reads the Duchess novels. I think, however, she has the grace +to be ashamed of it, for she blushed scarlet when I handed her "A Modern +Circe." I could have told her that such a blush on such a cheek would +atone for reading Mrs. Southworth, but I refrained. After she had gone I +discovered a slip of paper which had blown under some stones. It proved +to be an itinerary. I didn't return it. I thought they must know which +way they were going; and as this was precisely what I wanted to know, I +kept it for my own use. She is doing the cathedral towns. I am doing +the cathedral towns. Happy thought! Why shouldn't we do them +together,--we and aunt Celia? + +I had only ten minutes--to catch my train for Salisbury, but I concluded +to run in and glance at the registers of the principal hotels. Found my +nut-brown mayde at once on the pages of the Royal Garden Inn register: +"Miss Celia Van Tyck, Beverly, Mass.; Miss Katharine Schuyler, New York." +I concluded to stay over another train, ordered dinner, and took an +altogether indefensible and inconsistent pleasure in writing "John Quincy +Copley, Cambridge, Mass.," directly beneath the charmer's autograph. + + + + + SHE + + + SALISBURY, _June_ 1 + The White Hart Inn. + +We left Winchester on the 1.06 train yesterday, and here we are within +sight of another superb and ancient pile of stone. I wanted so much to +stop at the Highflyer Inn in Lark Lane, but aunt Celia said that if we +were destitute of personal dignity, we at least owed something to our +ancestors. Aunt Celia has a temperamental distrust of joy as something +dangerous and ensnaring. She doesn't realize what fun it would be to +date one's letters from the Highflyer Inn, Lark Lane, even if one were +obliged to consort with poachers and cockneys in order to do it. + +We attended service at three. The music was lovely, and there were +beautiful stained-glass windows by Burne-Jones and Morris. The verger +(when wound up with a shilling) talked like an electric doll. If that +nice young man is making a cathedral tour, like ourselves, he isn't +taking our route, for he isn't here. If he has come over for the purpose +of sketching, he wouldn't stop at sketching one cathedral. Perhaps he +began at the other end and worked down to Winchester. Yes, that must be +it, for the Ems sailed yesterday from Southampton. + +* * * + +June 2. + +We intended to go to Stonehenge this morning, but it rained, so we took a +"growler" and went to the Earl of Pembroke's country place to see the +pictures. Had a delightful morning with the magnificent antiques, +curios, and portraits. The Van Dyck room is a joy forever. There were +other visitors; nobody who looked especially interesting. Don't like +Salisbury so well as Winchester. Don't know why. We shall drive this +afternoon, if it is fair, and go to Wells to-morrow. Must read Baedeker +on the bishop's palace. Oh dear! if one could only have a good time and +not try to know anything! + +Memoranda: _This cathedral has the highest spire_. _Remember_: +_Winchester_, _longest nave_; _Salisbury_, _highest spire_. + +_The Lancet style is those curved lines meeting in a rounding or a sharp +point like this_ + + [Drawing like two very circular n's next to each other] + +_and then joined together like this_: + + [Drawing like \/\/\/] + +_the way they used to scallop flannel petticoats_. _Gothic looks like +triangles meeting together in various spots and joined with beautiful +sort of ornamented knobs_. _I think I know Gothic when I see it_. _Then +there is Norman_, _Early English_, _fully developed Early English_, +_Early and Late Perpendicular_, _and Transition_. _Aunt Celia knows them +all apart_. + + + + + HE + + + SALISBURY, _June_ 3 + The Red Lion. + +I went off on a long tramp this afternoon, and coming on a pretty river +flowing through green meadows, with a fringe of trees on either side, I +sat down to make a sketch. I heard feminine voices in the vicinity, but, +as these are generally a part of the landscape in the tourist season, I +paid no special notice. Suddenly a dainty patent-leather shoe floated +towards me on the surface of the stream. It evidently had just dropped +in, for it was right side up with care, and was disporting itself right +merrily. "Did ever Jove's tree drop such fruit?" I quoted, as I fished +it out on my stick; and just then I heard a distressed voice saying, "Oh, +aunt Celia, I've lost my smart little London shoe. I was sitting in a +tree, taking a pebble out of the heel, when I saw a caterpillar, and I +dropped it into the river, the shoe, you know, not the caterpillar." +Hereupon she came in sight, and I witnessed the somewhat unusual +spectacle of my nut-brown mayde hopping on one foot, like a divine stork, +and ever and anon emitting a feminine shriek as her off foot, clad in a +delicate silk stocking, came in contact with the ground. I rose quickly, +and, polishing the patent leather ostentatiously, inside and out, with my +handkerchief, I offered it to her with distinguished grace. She swayed +on her one foot with as much dignity as possible, and then recognizing me +as the person who picked up the contents of aunt Celia's bag, she said, +dimpling in the most distracting manner (that's another thing there ought +to be a law against), "Thank you again; you seem to be a sort of +knight-errant!" + +"Shall I--assist you?" I asked. (I might have known that this was going +too far.) + +"No, thank you," she said, with polar frigidity. "Good-afternoon." And +she hopped back to her aunt Celia without another word. + +I don't know how to approach aunt Celia. She is formidable. By a +curious accident of feature, for which she is not in the least +responsible, she always wears an unfortunate expression as of one +perceiving some offensive odor in the immediate vicinity. This may be a +mere accident of high birth. It is the kind of nose often seen in the +"first families," and her name betrays the fact that she is of good old +Knickerbocker origin. We go to Wells to-morrow. At least I think we do. + + + + + SHE + + + GLOUCESTER, _June_ 9 + The Spread Eagle. + +I met him at Wells, and again at Bath. We are always being ridiculous, +and he is always rescuing us. Aunt Celia never really sees him, and thus +never recognizes him when he appears again, always as the flower of +chivalry and guardian of ladies in distress. I will never again travel +abroad without a man, even if I have to hire one from a Feeble-Minded +Asylum. We work like galley slaves, aunt Celia and I, finding out about +trains and things. Neither of us can understand Bradshaw, and I can't +even grapple with the lesser intricacies of the A B C railway guide. The +trains, so far as I can see, always arrive before they go out, and I can +never tell whether to read up the page or down. It is certainly very +queer that the stupidest man that breathes, one that barely escapes +idiocy, can disentangle a railway guide, when the brightest woman fails. +Even the Boots at the inn in Wells took my book, and, rubbing his +frightfully dirty finger down the row of puzzling figures, found the +place in a minute, and said, "There ye are, miss." It is very +humiliating. All the time I have left from the study of routes and +hotels I spend on guide-books. Now I'm sure that if any one of the men I +know were here, he could tell me all that is necessary as we walk along +the streets. I don't say it in a frivolous or sentimental spirit in the +least, but I do affirm that there is hardly any juncture in life where +one isn't better off for having a man about. I should never dare divulge +this to aunt Celia, for she doesn't think men very nice. She excludes +them from conversation as if they were indelicate subjects. + +But, to go on, we were standing at the door of Ye Olde Bell and Horns, at +Bath, waiting for the fly which we had ordered to take us to the station, +when who should drive up in a four-wheeler but the flower of chivalry. +Aunt Celia was saying very audibly, "We shall certainly miss the train if +the man doesn't come at once." + +"Pray take this fly," said the flower of chivalry. "I am not leaving +till the next train." + +Aunt Celia got in without a murmur; I sneaked in after her. I don't +think she looked at him, though she did vouchsafe the remark that he +seemed to be a civil sort of person. + +At Bristol, I was walking about by myself, and I espied a sign, "Martha +Huggins, Licensed Victualer." It was a nice, tidy little shop, with a +fire on the hearth and flowers in the window, and, as it was raining +smartly, I thought no one would catch me if I stepped inside to chat with +Martha. I fancied it would be so delightful and Dickensy to talk quietly +with a licensed victualer by the name of Martha Huggins. + +Just after I had settled myself, the flower of chivalry came in and +ordered ale. I was disconcerted at being found in a dramshop alone, for +I thought, after the bag episode, he might fancy us a family of +inebriates. But he didn't evince the slightest astonishment; he merely +lifted his hat, and walked out after he had finished his ale. He +certainly has the loveliest manners! + +And so it goes on, and we never get any further. I like his politeness +and his evident feeling that I can't be flirted and talked with like a +forward boarding-school miss, but I must say I don't think much of his +ingenuity. Of course one can't have all the virtues, but, if I were he, +I would part with my distinguished air, my charming ease, in fact almost +anything, if I could have in exchange a few grains of common sense, just +enough to guide me in the practical affairs of life. + +I wonder what he is? He might be an artist, but he doesn't seem quite +like an artist; or a dilettante, but he doesn't seem in the least like a +dilettante. Or he might be an architect; I think that is the most +probable guess of all. Perhaps he is only "going to be" one of these +things, for he can't be more than twenty-five or twenty-six. Still he +looks as if he were something already; that is, he has a kind of +self-reliance in his mien,--not self-assertion, nor self-esteem, but +belief in self, as if he were able, and knew that he was able, to conquer +circumstances. + + + + + HE + + + GLOUCESTER, _June_ 10 + The Bell. + +Nothing accomplished yet. Her aunt is a Van Tyck, and a stiff one, too. +I am a Copley, and that delays matters. Much depends upon the manner of +approach. A false move would be fatal. We have six more towns (as per +itinerary), and if their thirst for cathedrals isn't slaked when these +are finished we have the entire continent to do. If I could only succeed +in making an impression on the retina of aunt Celia's eye! Though I have +been under her feet for ten days, she never yet has observed me. This +absent-mindedness of hers serves me ill now, but it may prove a blessing +later on. + + + + + SHE + + + OXFORD, _June_ 12 + The Mitre. + +It was here in Oxford that a grain of common sense entered the brain of +the flower of chivalry. You might call it the dawn of reason. We had +spent part of the morning in High Street, "the noblest old street in +England," as our dear Hawthorne calls it. As Wordsworth had written a +sonnet about it, aunt Celia was armed for the fray,--a volume of +Wordsworth in one hand, and one of Hawthorne in the other. (I wish +Baedeker didn't give such full information about what one ought to read +before one can approach these places in a proper spirit.) When we had +done High Street, we went to Magdalen College, and sat down on a bench in +Addison's Walk, where aunt Celia proceeded to store my mind with the +principal facts of Addison's career, and his influence on the literature +of the something or other century. The cramming process over, we +wandered along, and came upon "him" sketching a shady corner of the walk. + +Aunt Celia went up behind him, and, Van Tyck though she is, she could not +restrain her admiration of his work. I was surprised myself: I didn't +suppose so good looking a youth could do such good work. I retired to a +safe distance, and they chatted together. He offered her the sketch; she +refused to take advantage of his kindness. He said he would "dash off" +another that evening, and bring it to our hotel,--"so glad to do anything +for a fellow-countryman," etc. I peeped from behind a tree and saw him +give her his card. It was an awful moment; I trembled, but she read it +with unmistakable approval, and gave him her own with an expression that +meant, "Yours is good, but beat that if you can!" + +She called to me, and I appeared. Mr. John Quincy Copley, Cambridge, was +presented to her niece, Miss Katharine Schuyler, New York. It was over, +and a very small thing to take so long about, too. + +He is an architect, and of course has a smooth path into aunt Celia's +affections. Theological students, ministers, missionaries, heroes, and +martyrs she may distrust, but architects never! + +"He is an architect, my dear Katharine, and he is a Copley," she told me +afterwards. "I never knew a Copley who was not respectable, and many of +them have been more." + +After the introduction was over, aunt Celia asked him guilelessly if he +had visited any other of the English cathedrals. Any others, indeed! +This to a youth who had been all but in her lap for a fortnight! It was +a blow, but he rallied bravely, and, with an amused look in my direction, +replied discreetly that he had visited most of them at one time or +another. I refused to let him see that I had ever noticed him before; +that is, particularly. + +Memoranda: "The very stones and mortar of this historic town seem +impregnated with the spirit of restful antiquity." (Extract from one of +aunt Celia's letters.) Among the great men who have studied here are the +Prince of Wales, Duke of Wellington, Gladstone, Sir Robert Peel, Sir +Philip Sidney, William Penn, John Locke, the two Wesleys, Ruskin, Ben +Jonson, and Thomas Otway. (Look Otway up.) + + + + + HE + + + OXFORD, _June_ 13 + The Angel. + +I have done it, and if I hadn't been a fool and a coward I might have +done it a week ago, and spared myself a good deal of delicious torment. +I have just given two hours to a sketch of Addison's Walk and carried it +to aunt Celia at the Mitre. Object, to find out whether they make a long +stay in London (our next point), and if so where. It seems they go +directly through. I said in the course of conversation, "So Miss +Schuyler is willing to forego a London season? Marvelous self-denial!" + +"My niece did not come to Europe for a London season," replied Miss Van +Tyck. "We go through London this time merely as a cathedral town, simply +because it chances to be where it is geographically. We shall visit St. +Paul's and Westminster Abbey, and then go directly on, that our chain of +impressions may have absolute continuity and be free from any disturbing +elements." + +Oh, but she is lovely, is aunt Celia! + + LINCOLN, _June_ 20 + The Black Boy Inn. + +I am stopping at a beastly little hole, which has the one merit of being +opposite Miss Schuyler's lodgings. My sketch-book has deteriorated in +artistic value during the last two weeks. Many of its pages, while +interesting to me as reminiscences, will hardly do for family or studio +exhibition. If I should label them, the result would be something like +this:-- + +1. Sketch of a footstool and desk where I first saw Miss Schuyler +kneeling. + +2. Sketch of a carved-oak chair, Miss Schuyler sitting in it. + +3. "Angel Choir." Heads of Miss Schuyler introduced into the carving. + +4. Altar screen. Full length figure of Miss Schuyler holding lilies. + +5. Tomb of a bishop, where I tied Miss Schuyler's shoe. + +6. Tomb of another bishop, where I had to tie it again because I did it +so badly the first time. + +7. Sketch of the shoe; the shoe-lace worn out with much tying. + +8. Sketch of the blessed verger who called her "madam," when we were +walking together. + +9. Sketch of her blush when he did it the prettiest thing in the world. + +10. Sketch of J. Q. Copley contemplating the ruins of his heart. + +"How are the mighty fallen!" + + + + + SHE + + + LINCOLN, _June_ 22 + At Miss Brown's, Castle Garden. + +Mr. Copley _has_ done something in the world; I was sure that he had. He +has a little income of his own, but he is too proud and ambitious to be +an idler. He looked so manly when he talked about it, standing up +straight and strong in his knickerbockers. I like men in knickerbockers. +Aunt Celia doesn't. She says she doesn't see how a well-brought-up +Copley can go about with his legs in that condition. I would give worlds +to know how aunt Celia ever unbent sufficiently to get engaged. But, as +I was saying, Mr. Copley has accomplished something, young as he is. He +has built three picturesque suburban churches suitable for weddings, and +a state lunatic asylum. + +Aunt Celia says we shall have no worthy architecture until every building +is made an exquisitely sincere representation of its deepest purpose,--a +symbol, as it were, of its indwelling meaning. I should think it would +be very difficult to design a lunatic asylum on that basis, but I didn't +dare say so, as Mr. Copley seemed to think it all right. Their +conversation is absolutely sublimated when they get to talking of +architecture. I have just copied two quotations from Emerson, and am +studying them every night for fifteen minutes before I go to sleep. I'm +going to quote them some time offhand, just after morning service, when +we are wandering about the cathedral grounds. The first is this: "The +Gothic cathedral is a blossoming in stone, subdued by the insatiable +demand of harmony in man. The mountain of granite blooms into an eternal +flower, with the lightness and delicate finish as well as the aerial +proportion and perspective of vegetable beauty." Then when he has +recovered from the shock of this, here is my second: "Nor can any lover +of nature enter the old piles of Oxford and English cathedrals without +feeling that the forest overpowered the mind of the builder, and that his +chisel, his saw and plane, still reproduced its ferns, its spikes of +flowers, its locust, elm, pine, and spruce." + +Memoranda: _Lincoln choir is an example of Early English or First +Pointed_, _which can generally be told from something else by bold +projecting buttresses and dog-tooth moulding round the abacusses_. (The +plural is my own, and it does not look right.) _Lincoln Castle was the +scene of many prolonged sieges_, _and was once taken by Oliver Cromwell_. + + + + + HE + + + YORK, _June_ 24 + The Black Swan. + +Kitty Schuyler is the concentrated essence of feminine witchery. +Intuition strong, logic weak, and the two qualities so balanced as to +produce an indefinable charm; will-power large, but docility equal, if a +man is clever enough to know how to manage her; knowledge of facts +absolutely nil, but she is exquisitely intelligent in spite of it. She +has a way of evading, escaping, eluding, and then gives you an +intoxicating hint of sudden and complete surrender. She is divinely +innocent, but roguishness saves her from insipidity. Her looks? She +looks as you would imagine a person might look who possessed these +graces; and she is worth looking at, though every time I do it I have a +rush of love to the head. When you find a girl who combines all the +qualities you have imagined in the ideal, and who has added a dozen or +two on her own account, merely to distract you past all hope, why stand +up and try to resist her charm? Down on your knees like a man, say I! + + * * * * * + +I'm getting to adore aunt Celia. I didn't care for her at first, but she +is so deliciously blind! Anything more exquisitely unserviceable as a +chaperon I can't imagine. Absorbed in antiquity, she ignores the babble +of contemporaneous lovers. That any man could look at Kitty when he +could look at a cathedral passes her comprehension. I do not presume too +greatly on her absent-mindedness, however, lest she should turn +unexpectedly and rend me. I always remember that inscription on the +backs of the little mechanical French toys,--"Quoiqu'elle soit tres +solidement montee, il faut ne pas brutaliser la machine." + +And so my courtship progresses under aunt Celia's very nose. I say +"progresses," but it is impossible to speak with any certainty of +courting, for the essence of that gentle craft is hope, rooted in labor +and trained by love. + +I set out to propose to her during service this afternoon by writing my +feelings on the fly-leaf of the hymn-book, or something like that; but I +knew that aunt Celia would never forgive such blasphemy, and I thought +that Kitty herself might consider it wicked. Besides, if she should +chance to accept me, there was nothing I could do, in a cathedral, to +relieve my feelings. No; if she ever accepts me, I wish it to be in a +large, vacant spot of the universe, peopled by two only, and those two so +indistinguishably blended, as it were, that they would appear as one to +the casual observer. So I practiced repression, though the wall of my +reserve is worn to the thinness of thread-paper, and I tried to keep my +mind on the droning minor canon, and not to look at her, "for that way +madness lies." + + + + + SHE + + + YORK, _June_ 26 + High Petersgate Street. + +My taste is so bad! I just begin to realize it, and I am feeling my +"growing pains," like Gwendolen in "Daniel Deronda." I admired the +stained glass in the Lincoln Cathedral, especially the Nuremberg window. +I thought Mr. Copley looked pained, but he said nothing. When I went to +my room, I looked in a book and found that all the glass in that +cathedral is very modern and very bad, and the Nuremberg window is the +worst of all. Aunt Celia says she hopes that it will be a warning to me +to read before I speak; but Mr. Copley says no, that the world would lose +more in one way than it would gain in the other. I tried my quotations +this morning, and stuck fast in the middle of the first. + +Mr. Copley says that aunt Celia has been feeing the vergers altogether +too much, and I wrote a song about it called "The Ballad of the Vergers +and the Foolish Virgin," which I sang to my guitar. Mr. Copley says it +is cleverer than anything he ever did with his pencil, but of course he +says that only to be agreeable. + +We all went to an evening service last night. Coming home, aunt Celia +walked ahead with Mrs. Benedict, who keeps turning up at the most +unexpected moments. She's going to build a Gothicky memorial chapel +somewhere. I don't know for whom, unless it's for Benedict Arnold. I +don't like her in the least, but four is certainly a more comfortable +number than three. I scarcely ever have a moment alone with Mr. Copley; +for go where I will and do what I please, aunt Celia has the most perfect +confidence in my indiscretion, so she is always _en evidence_. + +Just as we were turning into the quiet little street where we are lodging +I said, "Oh dear, I wish that I knew something about architecture!" + +"If you don't know anything about it, you are certainly responsible for a +good deal of it," said Mr. Copley. + +"I? How do you mean?" I asked quite innocently, because I couldn't see +how he could twist such a remark as that into anything like sentiment. + +"I have never built so many castles in my life as since I've known you, +Miss Schuyler," he said. + +"Oh," I answered as lightly as I could, "air-castles don't count." + +"The building of air-castles is an innocent amusement enough, I suppose," +he said, "but I'm committing the folly of living in mine. I"-- + +Then I was frightened. When, all at once, you find you have something +precious you only dimly suspected was to be yours, you almost wish it +hadn't come so soon. But just at that moment Mrs. Benedict called to us, +and came tramping back from the gate, and hooked her supercilious, +patronizing arm in Mr. Copley's, and asked him into the sitting-room to +talk over the "lady chapel" in her new memorial church. Then aunt Celia +told me they would excuse me, as I had had a wearisome day; and there was +nothing for me to do but to go to bed, like a snubbed child, and wonder +if I should ever know the end of that sentence. And I listened at the +head of the stairs, shivering, but all that I could hear was that Mrs. +Benedict asked Mr. Copley to be her own architect. Her architect indeed! +That woman ought not to be at large! + + DURHAM, _July_ 15 + At Farmer Hendry's. + +We left York this morning, and arrived here about eleven o'clock. It +seems there is some sort of an election going on in the town, and there +was not a single fly at the station. Mr. Copley walked about in every +direction, but neither horse nor vehicle was to be had for love nor +money. At last we started to walk to the village, Mr. Copley so laden +with our hand-luggage that he resembled a pack-mule. We made a tour of +the inns, but not a single room was to be had, not for that night nor for +three days ahead, on account of that same election. + +"Hadn't we better go on to Edinburgh, aunt Celia?" I asked. + +"Edinburgh? Never!" she replied. "Do you suppose that I would +voluntarily spend a Sunday in those bare Presbyterian churches until the +memory of these past ideal weeks has faded a little from my memory? +What, leave out Durham and spoil the set?" (She spoke of the cathedrals +as if they were souvenir spoons.) "I intended to stay here for a week or +more, and write up a record of our entire trip from Winchester while the +impressions were fresh in my mind." + +"And I had intended doing the same thing," said Mr. Copley. "That is, I +hoped to finish off my previous sketches, which are in a frightful state +of incompletion, and spend a good deal of time on the interior of this +cathedral, which is unusually beautiful." (At this juncture aunt Celia +disappeared for a moment to ask the barmaid if, in her opinion, the +constant consumption of malt liquors prevents a more dangerous indulgence +in brandy and whiskey. She is gathering statistics, but as the barmaids +can never collect their thoughts while they are drawing ale, aunt Celia +proceeds slowly.) + +"For my part," said I, with mock humility, "I am a docile person who +never has any intentions of her own, but who yields herself sweetly to +the intentions of other people in her immediate vicinity." + +"Are you?" asked Mr. Copley, taking out his pencil. + +"Yes, I said so. What are you doing?" + +"Merely taking note of your statement, that's all.--Now, Miss Van Tyck, I +have a plan to propose. I was here last summer with a couple of Harvard +men, and we lodged at a farmhouse half a mile from the cathedral. If you +will step into the coffee-room of the Shoulder of Mutton and Cauliflower +for an hour, I'll walk up to Farmer Hendry's and see if they will take us +in. I think we might be fairly comfortable." + +"Can aunt Celia have Apollinaris and black coffee after her morning +bath?" I asked. + +"I hope, Katharine," said aunt Celia majestically,--"I hope that I can +accommodate myself to circumstances. If Mr. Copley can secure lodgings +for us, I shall be more than grateful." + +So here we are, all lodging together in an ideal English farmhouse. +There is a thatched roof on one of the old buildings, and the dairy house +is covered with ivy, and Farmer Hendry's wife makes a real English +courtesy, and there are herds of beautiful sleek Durham cattle, and the +butter and cream and eggs and mutton are delicious; and I never, never +want to go home any more. I want to live here forever, and wave the +American flag on Washington's birthday. + +I am so happy that I feel as if something were going to spoil it all. +Twenty years old to-day! I wish mamma were alive to wish me many happy +returns. + +Memoranda: Casual remark for breakfast table or perhaps for luncheon,--it +is a trifle heavy for breakfast: "Since the sixteenth century and despite +the work of Inigo Jones and the great Wren (not Jenny Wren--Christopher), +architecture has had, in England especially, no legitimate development." + + + + + HE + + + DURHAM, _July_ 19 + +O child of fortune, thy name is J. Q. Copley! How did it happen to be +election time? Why did the inns chance to be full? How did aunt Celia +relax sufficiently to allow me to find her a lodging? Why did she fall +in love with the lodging when found? I do not know. I only know Fate +smiles; that Kitty and I eat our morning bacon and eggs together; that I +carve Kitty's cold beef and pour Kitty's sparkling ale at luncheon; that +I go to vespers with Kitty, and dine with Kitty, and walk in the gloaming +with Kitty--and aunt Celia. And after a day of heaven like this, like +Lorna Doone's lover,--ay, and like every other lover, I suppose,--I go to +sleep, and the roof above me swarms with angels, having Kitty under it! + +We were coming home from afternoon service, Kitty and I. (I am +anticipating for she was "Miss Schuyler" then, but never mind.) We were +walking through the fields, while Mrs. Benedict and aunt Celia were +driving. As we came across a corner of the bit of meadow land that joins +the stable and the garden, we heard a muffled roar, and as we looked +round we saw a creature with tossing horns and waving tail making for us, +head down, eyes flashing. Kitty gave a shriek. We chanced to be near a +pair of low bars. I hadn't been a college athlete for nothing. I swung +Kitty over the bars, and jumped after her. But she, not knowing in her +fright where she was nor what she was doing; supposing, also, that the +mad creature, like the villain in the play, would "still pursue her," +flung herself bodily into my arms, crying, "Jack! Jack! Save me!" + +"It was the first time she had called me Jack," and I needed no second +invitation. I proceeded to save her,--in the usual way, by holding her +to my heart and kissing her lovely hair reassuringly, as I murmured: "You +are safe, my darling; not a hair of your precious head shall be hurt. +Don't be frightened." + +She shivered like a leaf. "I am frightened," she said. "I can't help +being frightened. He will chase us, I know. Where is he? What is he +doing now?" + +Looking up to determine if I need abbreviate this blissful moment, I saw +the enraged animal disappearing in the side door of the barn; and it was +a nice, comfortable Durham cow,--that somewhat rare but possible thing, a +sportive cow! + +"Is he gone?" breathed Kitty from my waistcoat. + +"Yes, he is gone--she is gone, darling. But don't move; it may come +again." + +My first too hasty assurance had calmed Kitty's fears, and she raised her +charming flushed face from its retreat and prepared to withdraw. I did +not facilitate the preparations, and a moment of awkward silence ensued. + +"Might I inquire," I asked, "if the dear little person at present +reposing in my arms will stay there (with intervals for rest and +refreshment) for the rest of her natural life?" + +She withdrew entirely now, all but her hand, and her eyes sought the +ground. + +"I suppose I shall have to now,--that is, if you think--at least, I +suppose you do think--at any rate, you look as if you were thinking--that +this has been giving you encouragement." + +"I do indeed,--decisive, undoubted, barefaced encouragement." + +"I don't think I ought to be judged as if I were in my sober senses," she +replied. "I was frightened within an inch of my life. I told you this +morning that I was dreadfully afraid of bulls, especially mad ones, and I +told you that my nurse frightened me, when I was a child, with awful +stories about them, and that I never outgrew my childish terror. I +looked everywhere about: the barn was too far, the fence too high, I saw +him coming, and there was nothing but you and the open country; of course +I took you. It was very natural, I'm sure,--any girl would have done +it." + +"To be sure," I replied soothingly, "any girl would have run after me, as +you say." + +"I didn't say any girl would have run after you,--you needn't flatter +yourself; and besides, I think I was really trying to protect you as well +as to gain protection; else why should I have cast myself on you like a +catamount, or a catacomb, or whatever the thing is?" + +"Yes, darling, I thank you for saving my life, and I am willing to devote +the remainder of it to your service as a pledge of my gratitude; but if +you should take up life-saving as a profession, dear, don't throw +yourself on a fellow with"-- + +"Jack! Jack!" she cried, putting her hand over my lips, and getting it +well kissed in consequence. "If you will only forget that, and never, +never taunt me with it afterwards, I'll--I'll--well, I'll do anything in +reason; yes, even marry you!" + + CANTERBURY, _July_ 31 + The Royal Fountain. + +I was never sure enough of Kitty, at first, to dare risk telling her +about that little mistake of hers. She is such an elusive person that I +spend all my time in wooing her, and can never lay flattering unction to +my soul that she is really won. + +But after aunt Celia had looked up my family record and given a +provisional consent, and papa Schuyler had cabled a reluctant blessing, I +did not feel capable of any further self-restraint. + +It was twilight here in Canterbury, and we were sitting on the +vine-shaded veranda of aunt Celia's lodging. Kitty's head was on my +shoulder. There is something very queer about that; when Kitty's head is +on my shoulder, I am not capable of any consecutive train of thought. +When she puts it there I see stars, then myriads of stars, then, oh! I +can't begin to enumerate the steps by which ecstasy mounts to delirium; +but at all events, any operation which demands exclusive use of the +intellect is beyond me at these times. Still I gathered my stray wits +together and said, "Kitty!" + +"Yes, Jack?" + +"Now that nothing but death or marriage can separate us, I have something +to confess to you." + +"Yes," she said serenely, "I know what you are going to say. He was a +cow." + +I lifted her head from my shoulder sternly, and gazed into her childlike, +candid eyes. + +"You mountain of deceit! How long have you known about it?" + +"Ever since the first. Oh, Jack, stop looking at me in that way! Not +the very first, not when I--not when you--not when we--no, not then, but +the next morning I said to Farmer Hendry, 'I wish you would keep your +savage bull chained up while we are here; aunt Celia is awfully afraid of +them, especially those that go mad, like yours!' 'Lor', miss,' said +Farmer Hendry, 'he haven't been pastured here for three weeks. I keep +him six mile away. There ben't nothing but gentle cows in the home +medder.' But I didn't think that you knew, you secretive person! I dare +say you planned the whole thing in advance, in order to take advantage of +my fright!" + +"Never! I am incapable of such an unnecessary subterfuge! Besides, +Kitty, I could not have made an accomplice of a cow, you know." + +"Then," she said, with great dignity, "if you had been a gentleman and a +man of honor, you would have cried, 'Unhand me, girl! You are clinging +to me under a misunderstanding!'" + + + + + SHE + + + CHESTER, _August_ 8 + The Grosvenor. + +Jack and I are going over this same ground next summer, on our wedding +trip. We shall sail for home next week, and we haven't half done justice +to the cathedrals. After the first two, we saw nothing but each other on +a general background of architecture. I hope my mind is improved, but +oh, I am so hazy about all the facts I have read since I knew Jack! +Winchester and Salisbury stand out superbly in my memory. They acquired +their ground before it was occupied with other matters. I shall never +forget, for instance, that Winchester has the longest spire and Salisbury +the highest nave of all the English cathedrals. And I shall never forget +so long as I live that Jane Austen and Isaac Newt--Oh dear! was it Isaac +Newton or Izaak Walton that was buried in Winchester and Salisbury? To +think that that interesting fact should have slipped from my mind, after +all the trouble I took with it! But I know that it was Isaac somebody, +and that he was buried in--well, he was buried in one of those two +places. I am not certain which, but I can ask Jack; he is sure to know. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CATHEDRAL COURTSHIP*** + + +******* This file should be named 1551.txt or 1551.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/1551 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Aunt +Celia has an intense desire to improve my mind. Papa told her, when +we were leaving Cedarhurst, that he wouldn't for the world have it +too much improved, and aunt Celia remarked that, so far as she could +judge, there was no immediate danger; with which exchange of +hostilities they parted. + +We are traveling under the yoke of an iron itinerary, warranted +neither to bend nor break. It was made out by a young High Church +curate in New York, and if it had been blessed by all the bishops +and popes it could not be more sacred to aunt Celia. She is awfully +High Church, and I believe she thinks this tour of the cathedrals +will give me a taste for ritual and bring me into the true fold. I +have been hearing dear old Dr. Kyle a great deal lately, and aunt +Celia says that he is the most dangerous Unitarian she knows, +because he has leanings towards Christianity. + +Long ago, in her youth, she was engaged to a young architect. He, +with his triangles and T-squares and things, succeeded in making an +imaginary scale-drawing of her heart (up to that time a virgin +forest, an unmapped territory), which enabled him to enter in and +set up a pedestal there, on which he has remained ever since. He +has been only a memory for many years, to be sure, for he died at +the age of twenty-six, before he had had time to build anything but +a livery stable and a country hotel. This is fortunate, on the +whole, because aunt Celia thinks he was destined to establish +American architecture on a higher plane,--rid it of its base, time- +serving, imitative instincts, and waft it to a height where, in the +course of centuries, we should have been revered and followed by all +the nations of the earth. I went to see the livery stable, after +one of these Miriam-like flights of prophecy on the might-have-been. +It isn't fair to judge a man's promise by one performance, and that +one a livery stable, so I shall say nothing. + +This sentiment about architecture and this fondness for the very +toppingest High Church ritual cause aunt Celia to look on the +English cathedrals with solemnity and reverential awe. She has +given me a fat notebook, with "Katharine Schuyler" stamped in gold +letters on the Russia leather cover, and a lock and key to protect +its feminine confidences. I am not at all the sort of girl who +makes notes, and I have told her so; but she says that I must at +least record my passing impressions, if they are ever so trivial and +commonplace. + +I wanted to go directly from Southampton to London with the Abbotts, +our ship friends, who left us yesterday. Roderick Abbott and I had +had a charming time on board ship (more charming than aunt Celia +knows, because she was very ill, and her natural powers of +chaperoning were severely impaired), and the prospect of seeing +London sights together was not unpleasing; but Roderick Abbott is +not in aunt Celia's itinerary, which reads: "Winchester, Salisbury, +Wells, Bath, Bristol, Gloucester, Oxford, London, Ely, Lincoln, +York, Durham." + +Aunt Celia is one of those persons who are born to command, and when +they are thrown in contact with those who are born to be commanded +all goes as merry as a marriage bell; otherwise not. + +So here we are at Winchester; and I don't mind all the Roderick +Abbotts in the universe, now that I have seen the Royal Garden Inn, +its pretty coffee-room opening into the old-fashioned garden, with +its borders of clove pinks, its aviaries, and its blossoming horse- +chestnuts, great towering masses of pink bloom! + +Aunt Celia has driven to St. Cross Hospital with Mrs. Benedict, an +estimable lady tourist whom she "picked up" en route from +Southampton. I am tired, and stayed at home. I cannot write +letters, because aunt Celia has the guide-books, so I sit by the +window in indolent content, watching the dear little school laddies, +with their short jackets and wide white collars; they all look so +jolly, and rosy, and clean, and kissable! I should like to kiss the +chambermaid, too! She has a pink print dress; no bangs, thank +goodness (it's curious our servants can't leave that deformity to +the upper classes), but shining brown hair, plump figure, soft +voice, and a most engaging way of saying, "Yes, miss? Anythink +more, miss?" I long to ask her to sit down comfortably and be +English, while I study her as a type, but of course I mustn't. +Sometimes I wish I could retire from the world for a season and do +what I like, "surrounded by the general comfort of being thought +mad." + +An elegant, irreproachable, high-minded model of dignity and reserve +has just knocked and inquired what we will have for dinner. It is +very embarrassing to give orders to a person who looks like a judge +of the Supreme Court, but I said languidly, "What would you +suggest?" + +"How would you like a clear soup, a good spring soup, to begin with, +miss?" + +"Very much." + +"And a bit of turbot next, miss?" + +"Yes, turbot, by all means," I said, my mouth watering at the word. + +"And what for a roast, miss? Would you enjoy a young duckling, +miss?" + +"Just the thing; and for dessert"--I couldn't think what we ought to +have for dessert in England, but the high-minded model coughed +apologetically and said, "I was thinking you might like gooseberry +tart and cream for a sweet, miss." + +Oh that I could have vented my New World enthusiasm in a shriek of +delight as I heard those intoxicating words, heretofore met only in +English novels! + +"Ye-es," I said hesitatingly, though I was palpitating with joy, "I +fancy we should like gooseberry tart (here a bright idea entered my +mind) and perhaps in case my aunt doesn't care for the gooseberry +tart, you might bring a lemon squash, please." + +Now I had never met a lemon squash personally, but I had often heard +of it, and wished to show my familiarity with British culinary art. + +"One lemon squash, miss?" + +"Oh, as to that, it doesn't matter," I said haughtily; "bring a +sufficient number for two persons." + +* * * + +Aunt Celia came home in the highest feather. She had twice been +taken for an Englishwoman. She said she thought that lemon squash +was a drink; I thought it was a pie; but we shall find out at +dinner, for, as I said, I ordered a sufficient number for two +persons. + +At four o'clock we attended even-song at the cathedral. I shall not +say what I felt when the white-surpliced boy choir entered, winding +down those vaulted aisles, or when I heard for the first time that +intoned service, with all its "witchcraft of harmonic sound." I sat +quite by myself in a high carved-oak seat, and the hour was passed +in a trance of serene delight. I do not have many opinions, it is +true, but papa says I am always strong on sentiments; nevertheless, +I shall not attempt to tell even what I feel in these new and +beautiful experiences, for it has been better told a thousand times. + +There were a great many people at service, and a large number of +Americans among them, I should think, though we saw no familiar +faces. There was one particularly nice young man, who looked like a +Bostonian. He sat opposite me. He didn't stare,--he was too well +bred; but when I looked the other way, he looked at me. Of course I +could feel his eyes,--anybody can, at least any girl can; but I +attended to every word of the service, and was as good as an angel. +When the procession had filed out and the last strain of the great +organ had rumbled into silence, we went on a tour through the +cathedral, a heterogeneous band, headed by a conscientious old +verger who did his best to enlighten us, and succeeded in virtually +spoiling my pleasure. + +After we had finished (think of "finishing" a cathedral in an hour +or two!), aunt Celia and I, with one or two others, wandered through +the beautiful close, looking at the exterior from every possible +point, and coming at last to a certain ruined arch which is very +famous. It did not strike me as being remarkable. I could make any +number of them with a pattern, without the least effort. But at any +rate, when told by the verger to gaze upon the beauties of this +wonderful relic and tremble, we were obliged to gaze also upon the +beauties of the aforesaid nice young man, who was sketching it. As +we turned to go away, aunt Celia dropped her bag. It is one of +those detestable, all-absorbing, all-devouring, thoroughly +respectable, but never proud Boston bags, made of black cloth with +leather trimmings, "C. Van T." embroidered on the side, and the top +drawn up with stout cords which pass over the Boston wrist or arm. +As for me, I loathe them, and would not for worlds be seen carrying +one, though I do slip a great many necessaries into aunt Celia's. + +I hastened to pick up the horrid thing, for fear the nice young man +would feel obliged to do it for me; but, in my indecorous haste, I +caught hold of the wrong end and emptied the entire contents on the +stone flagging. Aunt Celia didn't notice; she had turned with the +verger, lest she should miss a single word of his inspired +testimony. So we scrambled up the articles together, the nice young +man and I; and oh, I hope I may never look upon his face again + +There were prayer-books and guide-books, a bottle of soda mint +tablets, a spool of dental floss, a Bath bun, a bit of gray frizz +that aunt Celia pins into her steamer cap, a spectacle case, a +brandy flask, and a bonbon box, which broke and scattered cloves and +cardamom seeds. (I hope he guessed aunt Celia is a dyspeptic, and +not intemperate!) All this was hopelessly vulgar, but I wouldn't +have minded anything if there had not been a Duchess novel. Of +course he thought that it belonged to me. He couldn't have known +aunt Celia was carrying it for that accidental Mrs. Benedict, with +whom she went to St. Cross Hospital. + +After scooping the cardamom seeds out of the cracks in the stone +flagging, he handed me the tattered, disreputable-looking copy of "A +Modern Circe" with a bow that wouldn't have disgraced a +Chesterfield, and then went back to his easel, while I fled after +aunt Celia and her verger. + +Memoranda: The Winchester Cathedral has the longest nave. The +inside is more superb than the outside. Izaak Walton and Jane +Austen are buried there. + + + +HE + + + +WINCHESTER, May 28, 1891 +The White Swan. + +As sure as my name is Jack Copley, I saw the prettiest girl in the +world to-day,--an American, too, or I'm greatly mistaken. It was in +the cathedral, where I have been sketching for several days. I was +sitting in the end of a seat, at afternoon service, when two ladies +entered by the side door. The ancient maiden, evidently the head of +the family, settled herself devoutly, and the young one stole off by +herself to one of the old carved seats back of the choir. She was +worse than pretty! I took a sketch of her during service, as she +sat under the dark carved-oak canopy, with this Latin inscription +over her head:- + + +CARLTON CUM +DOLBY +LETANIA +IX SOLIDORUM +SUPER FLUMINA +CONFITEBOR TIBI +DUC PROBATI + + +There ought to be a law against a woman's making a picture of +herself, unless she is willing to sit and be sketched. + +A black and white sketch doesn't give any definite idea of this +charmer's charms, but some time I'll fill it in,--hair, sweet little +hat, gown, and eyes, all in golden brown, a cape of tawny sable +slipping off her arm, a knot of yellow primroses in her girdle, +carved-oak background, and the afternoon sun coming through a +stained-glass window. Great Jove! She had a most curious effect on +me, that girl! I can't explain it,--very curious, altogether new, +and rather pleasant! When one of the choir boys sang, "Oh for the +wings of a dove!" a tear rolled out of one of her lovely eyes and +down her smooth brown cheek. I would have given a large portion of +my modest monthly income for the felicity of wiping away that +teardrop with one of my new handkerchiefs, marked with a tremendous +"C" by my pretty sister. + +An hour or two later they appeared again,--the dragon, who answers +to the name of "aunt Celia," and the "nut-brown mayde," who comes +when you call her "Katharine." I was sketching a ruined arch. The +dragon dropped her unmistakably Boston bag. I expected to see +encyclopaedias and Russian tracts fall from it, but was +disappointed. The nut-brown mayde (who has been brought up rigidly) +hastened to pick up the bag, for fear that I should serve her by +doing it. She was punished by turning it inside out, and I was +rewarded by helping her pick up the articles, which were many and +ill assorted. My little romance received the first blow when I +found that she reads the Duchess novels. I think, however, she has +the grace to be ashamed of it, for she blushed scarlet when I handed +her "A Modern Circe." I could have told her that such a blush on +such a cheek would atone for reading Mrs. Southworth, but I +refrained. After she had gone I discovered a slip of paper which +had blown under some stones. It proved to be an itinerary. I +didn't return it. I thought they must know which way they were +going; and as this was precisely what I wanted to know, I kept it +for my own use. She is doing the cathedral towns. I am doing the +cathedral towns. Happy thought! Why shouldn't we do them +together,--we and aunt Celia? + +I had only ten minutes--to catch my train for Salisbury, but I +concluded to run in and glance at the registers of the principal +hotels. Found my nut-brown mayde at once on the pages of the Royal +Garden Inn register: "Miss Celia Van Tyck, Beverly, Mass.; Miss +Katharine Schuyler, New York." I concluded to stay over another +train, ordered dinner, and took an altogether indefensible and +inconsistent pleasure in writing "John Quincy Copley, Cambridge, +Mass.," directly beneath the charmer's autograph. + + + +SHE + + + +SALISBURY, June 1 +The White Hart Inn. + +We left Winchester on the 1.06 train yesterday, and here we are +within sight of another superb and ancient pile of stone. I wanted +so much to stop at the Highflyer Inn in Lark Lane, but aunt Celia +said that if we were destitute of personal dignity, we at least owed +something to our ancestors. Aunt Celia has a temperamental distrust +of joy as something dangerous and ensnaring. She doesn't realize +what fun it would be to date one's letters from the Highflyer Inn, +Lark Lane, even if one were obliged to consort with poachers and +cockneys in order to do it. + +We attended service at three. The music was lovely, and there were +beautiful stained-glass windows by Burne-Jones and Morris. The +verger (when wound up with a shilling) talked like an electric doll. +If that nice young man is making a cathedral tour, like ourselves, +he isn't taking our route, for he isn't here. If he has come over +for the purpose of sketching, he wouldn't stop at sketching one +cathedral. Perhaps he began at the other end and worked down to +Winchester. Yes, that must be it, for the Ems sailed yesterday from +Southampton. + +* * * + +June 2. + +We intended to go to Stonehenge this morning, but it rained, so we +took a "growler" and went to the Earl of Pembroke's country place to +see the pictures. Had a delightful morning with the magnificent +antiques, curios, and portraits. The Van Dyck room is a joy +forever. There were other visitors; nobody who looked especially +interesting. Don't like Salisbury so well as Winchester. Don't +know why. We shall drive this afternoon, if it is fair, and go to +Wells to-morrow. Must read Baedeker on the bishop's palace. Oh +dear! if one could only have a good time and not try to know +anything! + +Memoranda: This cathedral has the highest spire. Remember: +Winchester, longest nave; Salisbury, highest spire. + +The Lancet style is those curved lines meeting in a rounding or a +sharp point like this + + +[drawing like two very circular n's next to each other] + + +and then joined together like this: + + + \/\/\/ + + +the way they used to scallop flannel petticoats. Gothic looks like +triangles meeting together in various spots and joined with +beautiful sort of ornamented knobs. I think I know Gothic when I +see it. Then there is Norman, Early English, fully developed Early +English, Early and Late Perpendicular, and Transition. Aunt Celia +knows them all apart. + + + +HE + + + +SALISBURY, June 3 +The Red Lion. + +I went off on a long tramp this afternoon, and coming on a pretty +river flowing through green meadows, with a fringe of trees on +either side, I sat down to make a sketch. I heard feminine voices +in the vicinity, but, as these are generally a part of the landscape +in the tourist season, I paid no special notice. Suddenly a dainty +patent-leather shoe floated towards me on the surface of the stream. +It evidently had just dropped in, for it was right side up with +care, and was disporting itself right merrily. "Did ever Jove's +tree drop such fruit?" I quoted, as I fished it out on my stick; and +just then I heard a distressed voice saying, "Oh, aunt Celia, I've +lost my smart little London shoe. I was sitting in a tree, taking a +pebble out of the heel, when I saw a caterpillar, and I dropped it +into the river, the shoe, you know, not the caterpillar." Hereupon +she came in sight, and I witnessed the somewhat unusual spectacle of +my nut-brown mayde hopping on one foot, like a divine stork, and +ever and anon emitting a feminine shriek as her off foot, clad in a +delicate silk stocking, came in contact with the ground. I rose +quickly, and, polishing the patent leather ostentatiously, inside +and out, with my handkerchief, I offered it to her with +distinguished grace. She swayed on her one foot with as much +dignity as possible, and then recognizing me as the person who +picked up the contents of aunt Celia's bag, she said, dimpling in +the most distracting manner (that's another thing there ought to be +a law against), "Thank you again; you seem to be a sort of knight- +errant!" + +"Shall I--assist you?" I asked. (I might have known that this was +going too far.) + +"No, thank you," she said, with polar frigidity. "Good-afternoon." +And she hopped back to her aunt Celia without another word. + +I don't know how to approach aunt Celia. She is formidable. By a +curious accident of feature, for which she is not in the least +responsible, she always wears an unfortunate expression as of one +perceiving some offensive odor in the immediate vicinity. This may +be a mere accident of high birth. It is the kind of nose often seen +in the "first families," and her name betrays the fact that she is +of good old Knickerbocker origin. We go to Wells to-morrow. At +least I think we do. + + + +SHE + + + +GLOUCESTER, June 9 +The Spread Eagle. + +I met him at Wells, and again at Bath. We are always being +ridiculous, and he is always rescuing us. Aunt Celia never really +sees him, and thus never recognizes him when he appears again, +always as the flower of chivalry and guardian of ladies in distress. +I will never again travel abroad without a man, even if I have to +hire one from a Feeble-Minded Asylum. We work like galley slaves, +aunt Celia and I, finding out about trains and things. Neither of +us can understand Bradshaw, and I can't even grapple with the lesser +intricacies of the A B C railway guide. The trains, so far as I can +see, always arrive before they go out, and I can never tell whether +to read up the page or down. It is certainly very queer that the +stupidest man that breathes, one that barely escapes idiocy, can +disentangle a railway guide, when the brightest woman fails. Even +the Boots at the inn in Wells took my book, and, rubbing his +frightfully dirty finger down the row of puzzling figures, found the +place in a minute, and said, "There ye are, miss." It is very +humiliating. All the time I have left from the study of routes and +hotels I spend on guide-books. Now I'm sure that if any one of the +men I know were here, he could tell me all that is necessary as we +walk along the streets. I don't say it in a frivolous or +sentimental spirit in the least, but I do affirm that there is +hardly any juncture in life where one isn't better off for having a +man about. I should never dare divulge this to aunt Celia, for she +doesn't think men very nice. She excludes them from conversation as +if they were indelicate subjects. + +But, to go on, we were standing at the door of Ye Olde Bell and +Horns, at Bath, waiting for the fly which we had ordered to take us +to the station, when who should drive up in a four-wheeler but the +flower of chivalry. Aunt Celia was saying very audibly, "We shall +certainly miss the train if the man doesn't come at once." + +"Pray take this fly," said the flower of chivalry. "I am not +leaving till the next train." + +Aunt Celia got in without a murmur; I sneaked in after her. I don't +think she looked at him, though she did vouchsafe the remark that he +seemed to be a civil sort of person. + +At Bristol, I was walking about by myself, and I espied a sign, +"Martha Huggins, Licensed Victualer." It was a nice, tidy little +shop, with a fire on the hearth and flowers in the window, and, as +it was raining smartly, I thought no one would catch me if I stepped +inside to chat with Martha. I fancied it would be so delightful and +Dickensy to talk quietly with a licensed victualer by the name of +Martha Huggins. + +Just after I had settled myself, the flower of chivalry came in and +ordered ale. I was disconcerted at being found in a dramshop alone, +for I thought, after the bag episode, he might fancy us a family of +inebriates. But he didn't evince the slightest astonishment; he +merely lifted his hat, and walked out after he had finished his ale. +He certainly has the loveliest manners! + +And so it goes on, and we never get any further. I like his +politeness and his evident feeling that I can't be flirted and +talked with like a forward boarding-school miss, but I must say I +don't think much of his ingenuity. Of course one can't have all the +virtues, but, if I were he, I would part with my distinguished air, +my charming ease, in fact almost anything, if I could have in +exchange a few grains of common sense, just enough to guide me in +the practical affairs of life. + +I wonder what he is? He might be an artist, but he doesn't seem +quite like an artist; or a dilettante, but he doesn't seem in the +least like a dilettante. Or he might be an architect; I think that +is the most probable guess of all. Perhaps he is only "going to be" +one of these things, for he can't be more than twenty-five or +twenty-six. Still he looks as if he were something already; that +is, he has a kind of self-reliance in his mien,--not self-assertion, +nor self-esteem, but belief in self, as if he were able, and knew +that he was able, to conquer circumstances. + + + +HE + + + +GLOUCESTER, June 10 +The Bell. + +Nothing accomplished yet. Her aunt is a Van Tyck, and a stiff one, +too. I am a Copley, and that delays matters. Much depends upon the +manner of approach. A false move would be fatal. We have six more +towns (as per itinerary), and if their thirst for cathedrals isn't +slaked when these are finished we have the entire continent to do. +If I could only succeed in making an impression on the retina of +aunt Celia's eye! Though I have been under her feet for ten days, +she never yet has observed me. This absent-mindedness of hers +serves me ill now, but it may prove a blessing later on. + + + +SHE + + + +OXFORD, June 12 +The Mitre. + +It was here in Oxford that a grain of common sense entered the brain +of the flower of chivalry. You might call it the dawn of reason. +We had spent part of the morning in High Street, "the noblest old +street in England," as our dear Hawthorne calls it. As Wordsworth +had written a sonnet about it, aunt Celia was armed for the fray,--a +volume of Wordsworth in one hand, and one of Hawthorne in the other. +(I wish Baedeker didn't give such full information about what one +ought to read before one can approach these places in a proper +spirit.) When we had done High Street, we went to Magdalen College, +and sat down on a bench in Addison's Walk, where aunt Celia +proceeded to store my mind with the principal facts of Addison's +career, and his influence on the literature of the something or +other century. The cramming process over, we wandered along, and +came upon "him" sketching a shady corner of the walk. + +Aunt Celia went up behind him, and, Van Tyck though she is, she +could not restrain her admiration of his work. I was surprised +myself: I didn't suppose so good looking a youth could do such good +work. I retired to a safe distance, and they chatted together. He +offered her the sketch; she refused to take advantage of his +kindness. He said he would "dash off" another that evening, and +bring it to our hotel,--"so glad to do anything for a fellow- +countryman," etc. I peeped from behind a tree and saw him give her +his card. It was an awful moment; I trembled, but she read it with +unmistakable approval, and gave him her own with an expression that +meant, "Yours is good, but beat that if you can!" + +She called to me, and I appeared. Mr. John Quincy Copley, +Cambridge, was presented to her niece, Miss Katharine Schuyler, New +York. It was over, and a very small thing to take so long about, +too. + +He is an architect, and of course has a smooth path into aunt +Celia's affections. Theological students, ministers, missionaries, +heroes, and martyrs she may distrust, but architects never! + +"He is an architect, my dear Katharine, and he is a Copley," she +told me afterwards. "I never knew a Copley who was not respectable, +and many of them have been more." + +After the introduction was over, aunt Celia asked him guilelessly if +he had visited any other of the English cathedrals. Any others, +indeed! This to a youth who had been all but in her lap for a +fortnight! It was a blow, but he rallied bravely, and, with an +amused look in my direction, replied discreetly that he had visited +most of them at one time or another. I refused to let him see that +I had ever noticed him before; that is, particularly. + +Memoranda: "The very stones and mortar of this historic town seem +impregnated with the spirit of restful antiquity." (Extract from +one of aunt Celia's letters.) Among the great men who have studied +here are the Prince of Wales, Duke of Wellington, Gladstone, Sir +Robert Peel, Sir Philip Sidney, William Penn, John Locke, the two +Wesleys, Ruskin, Ben Jonson, and Thomas Otway. (Look Otway up.) + + + +HE + + + +OXFORD, June 13 +The Angel. + +I have done it, and if I hadn't been a fool and a coward I might +have done it a week ago, and spared myself a good deal of delicious +torment. I have just given two hours to a sketch of Addison's Walk +and carried it to aunt Celia at the Mitre. Object, to find out +whether they make a long stay in London (our next point), and if so +where. It seems they go directly through. I said in the course of +conversation, "So Miss Schuyler is willing to forego a London +season? Marvelous self-denial!" + +"My niece did not come to Europe for a London season," replied Miss +Van Tyck. "We go through London this time merely as a cathedral +town, simply because it chances to be where it is geographically. +We shall visit St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey, and then go +directly on, that our chain of impressions may have absolute +continuity and be free from any disturbing elements." + +Oh, but she is lovely, is aunt Celia! + + +LINCOLN, June 20 +The Black Boy Inn. + + +I am stopping at a beastly little hole, which has the one merit of +being opposite Miss Schuyler's lodgings. My sketch-book has +deteriorated in artistic value during the last two weeks. Many of +its pages, while interesting to me as reminiscences, will hardly do +for family or studio exhibition. If I should label them, the result +would be something like this:- + +1. Sketch of a footstool and desk where I first saw Miss Schuyler +kneeling. + +2. Sketch of a carved-oak chair, Miss Schuyler sitting in it. + +3. "Angel Choir." Heads of Miss Schuyler introduced into the +carving. + +4. Altar screen. Full length figure of Miss Schuyler holding +lilies. + +5. Tomb of a bishop, where I tied Miss Schuyler's shoe. + +6. Tomb of another bishop, where I had to tie it again because I +did it so badly the first time. + +7. Sketch of the shoe; the shoe-lace worn out with much tying. + +8. Sketch of the blessed verger who called her "madam," when we +were walking together. + +9. Sketch of her blush when he did it the prettiest thing in the +world. + +10. Sketch of J. Q. Copley contemplating the ruins of his heart. + +"How are the mighty fallen!" + + + +SHE + + + +LINCOLN, June 22 +At Miss Brown's, Castle Garden. + +Mr. Copley HAS done something in the world; I was sure that he had. +He has a little income of his own, but he is too proud and ambitious +to be an idler. He looked so manly when he talked about it, +standing up straight and strong in his knickerbockers. I like men +in knickerbockers. Aunt Celia doesn't. She says she doesn't see +how a well-brought-up Copley can go about with his legs in that +condition. I would give worlds to know how aunt Celia ever unbent +sufficiently to get engaged. But, as I was saying, Mr. Copley has +accomplished something, young as he is. He has built three +picturesque suburban churches suitable for weddings, and a state +lunatic asylum. + +Aunt Celia says we shall have no worthy architecture until every +building is made an exquisitely sincere representation of its +deepest purpose,--a symbol, as it were, of its indwelling meaning. +I should think it would be very difficult to design a lunatic asylum +on that basis, but I didn't dare say so, as Mr. Copley seemed to +think it all right. Their conversation is absolutely sublimated +when they get to talking of architecture. I have just copied two +quotations from Emerson, and am studying them every night for +fifteen minutes before I go to sleep. I'm going to quote them some +time offhand, just after morning service, when we are wandering +about the cathedral grounds. The first is this: "The Gothic +cathedral is a blossoming in stone, subdued by the insatiable demand +of harmony in man. The mountain of granite blooms into an eternal +flower, with the lightness and delicate finish as well as the aerial +proportion and perspective of vegetable beauty." Then when he has +recovered from the shock of this, here is my second: "Nor can any +lover of nature enter the old piles of Oxford and English cathedrals +without feeling that the forest overpowered the mind of the builder, +and that his chisel, his saw and plane, still reproduced its ferns, +its spikes of flowers, its locust, elm, pine, and spruce." + +Memoranda: Lincoln choir is an example of Early English or First +Pointed, which can generally be told from something else by bold +projecting buttresses and dog-tooth moulding round the abacusses. +(The plural is my own, and it does not look right.) Lincoln Castle +was the scene of many prolonged sieges, and was once taken by Oliver +Cromwell. + + + +HE + + + +YORK, June 24 +The Black Swan. + +Kitty Schuyler is the concentrated essence of feminine witchery. +Intuition strong, logic weak, and the two qualities so balanced as +to produce an indefinable charm; will-power large, but docility +equal, if a man is clever enough to know how to manage her; +knowledge of facts absolutely nil, but she is exquisitely +intelligent in spite of it. She has a way of evading, escaping, +eluding, and then gives you an intoxicating hint of sudden and +complete surrender. She is divinely innocent, but roguishness saves +her from insipidity. Her looks? She looks as you would imagine a +person might look who possessed these graces; and she is worth +looking at, though every time I do it I have a rush of love to the +head. When you find a girl who combines all the qualities you have +imagined in the ideal, and who has added a dozen or two on her own +account, merely to distract you past all hope, why stand up and try +to resist her charm? Down on your knees like a man, say I! + +* * * + +I'm getting to adore aunt Celia. I didn't care for her at first, +but she is so deliciously blind! Anything more exquisitely +unserviceable as a chaperon I can't imagine. Absorbed in antiquity, +she ignores the babble of contemporaneous lovers. That any man +could look at Kitty when he could look at a cathedral passes her +comprehension. I do not presume too greatly on her absent- +mindedness, however, lest she should turn unexpectedly and rend me. +I always remember that inscription on the backs of the little +mechanical French toys,--"Quoiqu'elle soit tres solidement montee, +il faut ne pas brutaliser la machine." + +And so my courtship progresses under aunt Celia's very nose. I say +"progresses," but it is impossible to speak with any certainty of +courting, for the essence of that gentle craft is hope, rooted in +labor and trained by love. + +I set out to propose to her during service this afternoon by writing +my feelings on the fly-leaf of the hymn-book, or something like +that; but I knew that aunt Celia would never forgive such blasphemy, +and I thought that Kitty herself might consider it wicked. Besides, +if she should chance to accept me, there was nothing I could do, in +a cathedral, to relieve my feelings. No; if she ever accepts me, I +wish it to be in a large, vacant spot of the universe, peopled by +two only, and those two so indistinguishably blended, as it were, +that they would appear as one to the casual observer. So I +practiced repression, though the wall of my reserve is worn to the +thinness of thread-paper, and I tried to keep my mind on the droning +minor canon, and not to look at her, "for that way madness lies." + + + +SHE + + + +YORK, June 26 +High Petersgate Street. + +My taste is so bad! I just begin to realize it, and I am feeling my +"growing pains," like Gwendolen in "Daniel Deronda." I admired the +stained glass in the Lincoln Cathedral, especially the Nuremberg +window. I thought Mr. Copley looked pained, but he said nothing. +When I went to my room, I looked in a book and found that all the +glass in that cathedral is very modern and very bad, and the +Nuremberg window is the worst of all. Aunt Celia says she hopes +that it will be a warning to me to read before I speak; but Mr. +Copley says no, that the world would lose more in one way than it +would gain in the other. I tried my quotations this morning, and +stuck fast in the middle of the first. + +Mr. Copley says that aunt Celia has been feeing the vergers +altogether too much, and I wrote a song about it called "The Ballad +of the Vergers and the Foolish Virgin," which I sang to my guitar. +Mr. Copley says it is cleverer than anything he ever did with his +pencil, but of course he says that only to be agreeable. + +We all went to an evening service last night. Coming home, aunt +Celia walked ahead with Mrs. Benedict, who keeps turning up at the +most unexpected moments. She's going to build a Gothicky memorial +chapel somewhere. I don't know for whom, unless it's for Benedict +Arnold. I don't like her in the least, but four is certainly a more +comfortable number than three. I scarcely ever have a moment alone +with Mr. Copley; for go where I will and do what I please, aunt +Celia has the most perfect confidence in my indiscretion, so she is +always en evidence. + +Just as we were turning into the quiet little street where we are +lodging I said, "Oh dear, I wish that I knew something about +architecture!" + +"If you don't know anything about it, you are certainly responsible +for a good deal of it," said Mr. Copley. + +"I? How do you mean?" I asked quite innocently, because I couldn't +see how he could twist such a remark as that into anything like +sentiment. + +"I have never built so many castles in my life as since I've known +you, Miss Schuyler," he said. + +"Oh," I answered as lightly as I could, "air-castles don't count." + +"The building of air-castles is an innocent amusement enough, I +suppose," he said, "but I'm committing the folly of living in mine. +I" - + +Then I was frightened. When, all at once, you find you have +something precious you only dimly suspected was to be yours, you +almost wish it hadn't come so soon. But just at that moment Mrs. +Benedict called to us, and came tramping back from the gate, and +hooked her supercilious, patronizing arm in Mr. Copley's, and asked +him into the sitting-room to talk over the "lady chapel" in her new +memorial church. Then aunt Celia told me they would excuse me, as I +had had a wearisome day; and there was nothing for me to do but to +go to bed, like a snubbed child, and wonder if I should ever know +the end of that sentence. And I listened at the head of the stairs, +shivering, but all that I could hear was that Mrs. Benedict asked +Mr. Copley to be her own architect. Her architect indeed! That +woman ought not to be at large! + + + +DURHAM, July 15 +At Farmer Hendry's. + + +We left York this morning, and arrived here about eleven o'clock. +It seems there is some sort of an election going on in the town, and +there was not a single fly at the station. Mr. Copley walked about +in every direction, but neither horse nor vehicle was to be had for +love nor money. At last we started to walk to the village, Mr. +Copley so laden with our hand-luggage that he resembled a pack-mule. +We made a tour of the inns, but not a single room was to be had, not +for that night nor for three days ahead, on account of that same +election. + +"Hadn't we better go on to Edinburgh, aunt Celia?" I asked. + +"Edinburgh? Never!" she replied. "Do you suppose that I would +voluntarily spend a Sunday in those bare Presbyterian churches until +the memory of these past ideal weeks has faded a little from my +memory? What, leave out Durham and spoil the set?" (She spoke of +the cathedrals as if they were souvenir spoons.) "I intended to +stay here for a week or more, and write up a record of our entire +trip from Winchester while the impressions were fresh in my mind." + +"And I had intended doing the same thing," said Mr. Copley. "That +is, I hoped to finish off my previous sketches, which are in a +frightful state of incompletion, and spend a good deal of time on +the interior of this cathedral, which is unusually beautiful." (At +this juncture aunt Celia disappeared for a moment to ask the barmaid +if, in her opinion, the constant consumption of malt liquors +prevents a more dangerous indulgence in brandy and whiskey. She is +gathering statistics, but as the barmaids can never collect their +thoughts while they are drawing ale, aunt Celia proceeds slowly.) + +"For my part," said I, with mock humility, "I am a docile person who +never has any intentions of her own, but who yields herself sweetly +to the intentions of other people in her immediate vicinity." + +"Are you?" asked Mr. Copley, taking out his pencil. + +"Yes, I said so. What are you doing?" + +"Merely taking note of your statement, that's all.--Now, Miss Van +Tyck, I have a plan to propose. I was here last summer with a +couple of Harvard men, and we lodged at a farmhouse half a mile from +the cathedral. If you will step into the coffee-room of the +Shoulder of Mutton and Cauliflower for an hour, I'll walk up to +Farmer Hendry's and see if they will take us in. I think we might +be fairly comfortable." + +"Can aunt Celia have Apollinaris and black coffee after her morning +bath?" I asked. + +"I hope, Katharine," said aunt Celia majestically,--"I hope that I +can accommodate myself to circumstances. If Mr. Copley can secure +lodgings for us, I shall be more than grateful." + +So here we are, all lodging together in an ideal English farmhouse. +There is a thatched roof on one of the old buildings, and the dairy +house is covered with ivy, and Farmer Hendry's wife makes a real +English courtesy, and there are herds of beautiful sleek Durham +cattle, and the butter and cream and eggs and mutton are delicious; +and I never, never want to go home any more. I want to live here +forever, and wave the American flag on Washington's birthday. + +I am so happy that I feel as if something were going to spoil it +all. Twenty years old to-day! I wish mamma were alive to wish me +many happy returns. + +Memoranda: Casual remark for breakfast table or perhaps for +luncheon,--it is a trifle heavy for breakfast: "Since the sixteenth +century and despite the work of Inigo Jones and the great Wren (not +Jenny Wren--Christopher), architecture has had, in England +especially, no legitimate development." + + + +HE + + + +DURHAM, July 19 + +O child of fortune, thy name is J. Q. Copley! How did it happen to +be election time? Why did the inns chance to be full? How did aunt +Celia relax sufficiently to allow me to find her a lodging? Why did +she fall in love with the lodging when found? I do not know. I +only know Fate smiles; that Kitty and I eat our morning bacon and +eggs together; that I carve Kitty's cold beef and pour Kitty's +sparkling ale at luncheon; that I go to vespers with Kitty, and dine +with Kitty, and walk in the gloaming with Kitty--and aunt Celia. +And after a day of heaven like this, like Lorna Doone's lover,--ay, +and like every other lover, I suppose,--I go to sleep, and the roof +above me swarms with angels, having Kitty under it! + +We were coming home from afternoon service, Kitty and I. (I am +anticipating for she was "Miss Schuyler" then, but never mind.) We +were walking through the fields, while Mrs. Benedict and aunt Celia +were driving. As we came across a corner of the bit of meadow land +that joins the stable and the garden, we heard a muffled roar, and +as we looked round we saw a creature with tossing horns and waving +tail making for us, head down, eyes flashing. Kitty gave a shriek. +We chanced to be near a pair of low bars. I hadn't been a college +athlete for nothing. I swung Kitty over the bars, and jumped after +her. But she, not knowing in her fright where she was nor what she +was doing; supposing, also, that the mad creature, like the villain +in the play, would "still pursue her," flung herself bodily into my +arms, crying, "Jack! Jack! Save me!" + +"It was the first time she had called me Jack," and I needed no +second invitation. I proceeded to save her,--in the usual way, by +holding her to my heart and kissing her lovely hair reassuringly, as +I murmured: "You are safe, my darling; not a hair of your precious +head shall be hurt. Don't be frightened." + +She shivered like a leaf. "I am frightened," she said. "I can't +help being frightened. He will chase us, I know. Where is he? +What is he doing now?" + +Looking up to determine if I need abbreviate this blissful moment, I +saw the enraged animal disappearing in the side door of the barn; +and it was a nice, comfortable Durham cow,--that somewhat rare but +possible thing, a sportive cow! + +"Is he gone?" breathed Kitty from my waistcoat. + +"Yes, he is gone--she is gone, darling. But don't move; it may come +again." + +My first too hasty assurance had calmed Kitty's fears, and she +raised her charming flushed face from its retreat and prepared to +withdraw. I did not facilitate the preparations, and a moment of +awkward silence ensued. + +"Might I inquire," I asked, "if the dear little person at present +reposing in my arms will stay there (with intervals for rest and +refreshment) for the rest of her natural life?" + +She withdrew entirely now, all but her hand, and her eyes sought the +ground. + +"I suppose I shall have to now,--that is, if you think--at least, I +suppose you do think--at any rate, you look as if you were thinking- +-that this has been giving you encouragement." + +"I do indeed,--decisive, undoubted, barefaced encouragement." + +"I don't think I ought to be judged as if I were in my sober +senses," she replied. "I was frightened within an inch of my life. +I told you this morning that I was dreadfully afraid of bulls, +especially mad ones, and I told you that my nurse frightened me, +when I was a child, with awful stories about them, and that I never +outgrew my childish terror. I looked everywhere about: the barn +was too far, the fence too high, I saw him coming, and there was +nothing but you and the open country; of course I took you. It was +very natural, I'm sure,--any girl would have done it." + +"To be sure," I replied soothingly, "any girl would have run after +me, as you say." + +"I didn't say any girl would have run after you,--you needn't +flatter yourself; and besides, I think I was really trying to +protect you as well as to gain protection; else why should I have +cast myself on you like a catamount, or a catacomb, or whatever the +thing is?" + +"Yes, darling, I thank you for saving my life, and I am willing to +devote the remainder of it to your service as a pledge of my +gratitude; but if you should take up life-saving as a profession, +dear, don't throw yourself on a fellow with" - + +"Jack! Jack!" she cried, putting her hand over my lips, and getting +it well kissed in consequence. "If you will only forget that, and +never, never taunt me with it afterwards, I'll--I'll--well, I'll do +anything in reason; yes, even marry you!" + + +CANTERBURY, July 31 +The Royal Fountain. + + +I was never sure enough of Kitty, at first, to dare risk telling her +about that little mistake of hers. She is such an elusive person +that I spend all my time in wooing her, and can never lay flattering +unction to my soul that she is really won. + +But after aunt Celia had looked up my family record and given a +provisional consent, and papa Schuyler had cabled a reluctant +blessing, I did not feel capable of any further self-restraint. + +It was twilight here in Canterbury, and we were sitting on the vine- +shaded veranda of aunt Celia's lodging. Kitty's head was on my +shoulder. There is something very queer about that; when Kitty's +head is on my shoulder, I am not capable of any consecutive train of +thought. When she puts it there I see stars, then myriads of stars, +then, oh! I can't begin to enumerate the steps by which ecstasy +mounts to delirium; but at all events, any operation which demands +exclusive use of the intellect is beyond me at these times. Still I +gathered my stray wits together and said, "Kitty!" + +"Yes, Jack?" + +"Now that nothing but death or marriage can separate us, I have +something to confess to you." + +" Yes," she said serenely, "I know what you are going to say. He +was a cow." + +I lifted her head from my shoulder sternly, and gazed into her +childlike, candid eyes. + +"You mountain of deceit! How long have you known about it?" + +"Ever since the first. Oh, Jack, stop looking at me in that way! +Not the very first, not when I--not when you--not when we--no, not +then, but the next morning I said to Farmer Hendry, 'I wish you +would keep your savage bull chained up while we are here; aunt Celia +is awfully afraid of them, especially those that go mad, like +yours!' 'Lor', miss,' said Farmer Hendry, 'he haven't been pastured +here for three weeks. I keep him six mile away. There ben't +nothing but gentle cows in the home medder.' But I didn't think +that you knew, you secretive person! I dare say you planned the +whole thing in advance, in order to take advantage of my fright!" + +"Never! I am incapable of such an unnecessary subterfuge! Besides, +Kitty, I could not have made an accomplice of a cow, you know." + +" Then," she said, with great dignity, "if you had been a gentleman +and a man of honor, you would have cried, 'Unhand me, girl! You are +clinging to me under a misunderstanding!'" + + + +SHE + + + +CHESTER, August 8 +The Grosvenor. + +Jack and I are going over this same ground next summer, on our +wedding trip. We shall sail for home next week, and we haven't half +done justice to the cathedrals. After the first two, we saw nothing +but each other on a general background of architecture. I hope my +mind is improved, but oh, I am so hazy about all the facts I have +read since I knew Jack! Winchester and Salisbury stand out superbly +in my memory. They acquired their ground before it was occupied +with other matters. I shall never forget, for instance, that +Winchester has the longest spire and Salisbury the highest nave of +all the English cathedrals. And I shall never forget so long as I +live that Jane Austen and Isaac Newt- Oh dear! was it Isaac Newton +or Izaak Walton that was buried in Winchester and Salisbury? To +think that that interesting fact should have slipped from my mind, +after all the trouble I took with it! But I know that it was Isaac +somebody, and that he was buried in--well, he was buried in one of +those two places. I am not certain which, but I can ask Jack; he is +sure to know. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext Cathedral Courtship, Kate Douglas Wiggin + diff --git a/old/cthrc10.zip b/old/cthrc10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..502d331 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cthrc10.zip |