The Initials. Baroness Jemima Montgomery Tautphoeus
matter; try it at all events, and you shall have an additional glass of beer at dinner-time.”
On the strength of this promise he “lifted up his voice in song,” and shouted out a melody which there was no manner of doubt would have been “by distance made more sweet;” but which, as he leaned on the door of the carriage, and poured the whole force of his stentorian lungs into Hamilton’s face, almost made him vibrate on his seat.
“Thank you,” cried Hamilton, hastily, “thank you—that will do. I have long wished to hear a Tyrolean jodel, and am sure it must sound very well in the mountains!”
“There’s no music like it in the world,” said the man, as he seated himself again on the box; and laying aside his pipe, he continued singing for more than an hour, interrupted only by an occasional “Ho—he—hot!” addressed to his horses.
The country was indeed flat, but highly cultivated, and thickly wooded alternately—the absence of all walls or fences giving to German scenery in general the appearance of a domain; they passed through, and saw in the distance, many pretty villages, while the mountains were becoming more distinct and the scenery more interesting every hour. Had not the day been intensely sultry, Hamilton would have insisted on the head of the carriage being thrown back, and the odious rattling windows opposite to him being removed; as it was, however, the shade was agreeable, and the almost imperceptible current of air, produced by the motion of the carriage, as it blew on his face, had the somniferous effect attributed to the vampire’s wing—he slept, and so soundly that until the carriage stopped suddenly before a house on the roadside, not all the jolting and consequent thumping of his head against the hard side of the carriage could waken him; he then rubbed his eyes, stretched out his legs, and was endeavouring once more to compose himself to sleep, when the coachman informed him that they were to remain there two hours to rest and dine. He looked at his watch—it was twelve o’clock; then at the inn; it did not promise much; but near the door he caught a glimpse of a carriage in form and colour exactly resembling his own, containing, however, a number of packages which denoted female travellers. The blue bandboxes and embroidered bags decided his movements. He sprang from the carriage, and almost unconsciously ran his fingers through his hair as he entered the house. Passing through a large room filled with peasants, he reached a smaller apartment containing some narrow tables furnished at each side with benches covered with black leather cushions. At one of these tables sat three ladies, and an equal number of little boys. Hamilton had learned to bow civilly on entering a room to any persons who might be in it; after which he generally contrived to commence a conversation, and let people know that he was an Englishman; having ascertained that being one was a sort of recommendation, or at least an excuse for all sorts of eccentricity. On the present occasion his bow was returned, but no further notice taken; scarcely even a look bestowed on him; this was, however, not at all what he wished, for two of the party were young and remarkably pretty.
She who seemed to be the mother of the children, a tall, gaunt person, had her head and chin bound up with a large pocket-handkerchief, and seemed to be suffering from toothache, which rather puzzled Hamilton when he had discovered that she had apparently lost all her teeth, though by no means old, as appeared from her fresh-coloured features and hair untinged with gray. The other two were very young and perfect personifications of German beauty—blue eyes, blooming cheeks, red lips, and a profusion of brown hair most classically braided and platted. That they were sisters scarcely admitted of a doubt, so remarkable was their resemblance to each other—a nearer inspection made it equally evident that one was much handsomer than the other. They were both tall and very slightly formed, and their dark cotton dresses were made and put on with an exactness that proved they were not indifferent to the advantages bestowed on them by nature.
Hamilton stood at the window, an object of interest, as it seemed, to no one excepting the three little boys, who, with their mouths full of roast chicken, turned round on their chairs to stare at him, notwithstanding the repeated admonitions of their mother, enforced by an occasional shake of the shoulder. The young ladies, to Hamilton’s infinite astonishment, took the chicken-bones in their fingers and detached the meat from them with their teeth! He felt at once convinced that they were immeasurably vulgar, thereby forming an erroneous conclusion very common on the part of his travelling countrymen, who are not aware that the mode of eating is in Germany no such exact criterion of manners as in England. His dinner was now ready, and as he seated himself at the table one of his pretty neighbours glanced shyly towards him in a manner that proved that he had not been so unobserved as he imagined. With all the vanity of youth he determined in his turn to play indifference, traced diligently his route on the map which he had placed beside him, and made inquiries about Seon. The lady with the bound-up head tapped at the window and asked her coachman if he were ready to put to the horses; the answer was indistinct, but the words “late enough” and “Seon” reached Hamilton’s ears. Bonnets, gloves, and handkerchiefs were sought, and the children given in charge of their maid to be packed into the carriage.
“I think we had better get in with the boys and arrange ourselves comfortably,” observed the elder lady, following them out of the room.
“Comfort!” exclaimed one of the girls, in a melancholy voice, as she tied on her bonnet; “comfort is quite out of the question. I wish with all my heart we were at Seon! On such a day as this seven in a carriage is anything but agreeable.”
“I should not mind,” answered the other, half-laughing, “if Peppy did not insist on sitting on my knee; he kicks so incessantly that I suffered tortures on my way here.”
Hamilton advanced towards the speakers, and observed that he was travelling to the same place, and his carriage was quite at their service. They blushed, and one of them seemed disposed to laugh, which encouraged him to add that he would promise to be perfectly quiet, and on no pretence whatever to kick! Either his words or manner, or both, perhaps, displeased them, for, having exchanged looks, they murmured something unintelligible, and hastily left the room. He followed, and saw them get into their carriage, which was already more than sufficiently filled with children and boxes; the maid endeavoured to follow, but was obliged to remain long in the doorway while a place was being prepared for her. Wishing to prove that he had made his proposition with the intention of being civil, he now approached the party and addressed the elder lady—told her he was going to Seon, was travelling alone, had scarcely any luggage, and had places for as many persons and parcels as she chose to transfer to his carriage. She thanked him, and hesitatingly regretted that her boys were so unmanageable—perhaps he would be so kind as to give her maid a place. This was not exactly what Hamilton had intended; nevertheless he acceded with a good grace, and assisted the spruce-looking servant-girl to descend. One of the boys instantly commenced roaring, and declared he must and would go with her. He was lifted out of the carriage, and, with many apologies, Hamilton was asked to take charge of Peppy the kicker! But Peppy was not yet satisfied; he insisted so vociferously on his sister Crescenz accompanying him, that his mother was at length obliged to consent; and when Hamilton looked at the pretty blushing face of this new addition to his party, he thought her mother’s apologies not only tiresome but quite unnecessary. He had to wait some time before his coachman thought proper to depart, and made an attempt to express the pleasure he felt at having obtained so desirable a travelling companion; but the fair Crescenz seemed so overcome with mauvaise honte that he thought it advisable for the present to avoid all conversation. When once fairly off, he rummaged out a couple of books, offered her one, and took the other himself. This proceeding seemed to surprise her, but had the effect he wished, of making her feel less embarrassed. She turned over the leaves with a listlessness which at once convinced him that she was no reader, and he ventured to make a few remarks. The answers were at first merely monosyllables, but they required explanation, for he purposely misunderstood her. One subject of conversation led to another, and in about an hour they were talking as if they had been acquainted for months. She informed him that her father had a situation which scarcely ever admitted of his leaving Munich. That she and her sister had lost their mother when they mere children, and they had been sent to school when their father had married again. They had returned home but a few weeks ago, and their step-mother, having been ordered change of air, had chosen Seon, because the baths there had been of use to her on a former occasion. They had been very