A Journey of Joy

“‘ISN’T IT LOVELY TO LOOK DOWN ON THE HISTORIC CITY?’”

A JOURNEY OF JOY

BY AMY E. BLANCHARD Author of “Two Girls,” “Three Pretty Maids,” “A Girl of ’76,” “Janet’s College Career,” etc.

Illustrated by L. J. BRIDGMAN

BOSTON DANA ESTES & COMPANY PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1908 By Dana Estes & Company

All rights reserved COLONIAL PRESS Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, U.S.A.

To my niece, May, whose dear companionship added many joys to the days in which we journeyed together, I dedicate this story.

A. E. B.

List of Illustrations

A Journey of Joy

CHAPTER I OUR WAY ACROSS THE SEA

It was the close of a gusty day in late November when two persons sat watching the early dusk close down upon the outside world. A long line of light still lingered behind the purple hills upon which there stood out a few houses silhouetted against the primrose yellow of the sky. Within the nearer confines of the lawn the leafless trees looked dim and shadowy. The whirl of eddying leaves against the wall sounded ghostly, and the rattling of the vines against the side of the house suggested wintriness.

“And in Italy,” murmured the elder of the two women, “it will be all sunshine and light.”

“Italy?” There was a question in her companion’s voice.

“Yes, I am going there.”

“Alone? You surely are not going alone.”

“No, Sidney is going with me.”

[12]“Sidney? Oh, I am jealous,” the girl responded petulantly. “As if it were not enough that Sidney has a grandfather with lashings of money, a beautiful home, a devoted brother, an indulgent mother, while I am a poverty-stricken wretch whose blessed little mother must turn and twist and contrive to make both ends meet;—as if all this were not enough but you, my own godmother, who is mine by birthright, must be spirited away from me for a mess of pottage,—for pottage read spaghetti; that’s what they live on in Italy, I believe,—and I must sit and smile during the process of spiriting.”

“But Gabriella, dear, Sidney is also my goddaughter.”

“Yes, worse luck; I always did hate her for it.”

“Gabriella! you do no such thing. You are devoted to Sidney.”

“I might be if she were not so aggressively well off.”

“She is the least aggressive person I know. You rarely find a more simple-hearted girl.”

“Clothe her in hand-me-downs, and she might be, but exaggerated wealth stands out in her tailor-made gowns and her hats.”

“That is where you err; the tailor-made gowns do not add one iota to her figure, and the hats are never becoming.”

Gabriella did not heed the interruption. “And in her furs and feathers and jewelry—”

[13]“Which she never wears obtrusively. She will display no jewels on our travels, I can assure you. Don’t be cantankerous, Gabriella.”

“Oh, I must be. I always have had a grudge against Sidney since the day we were christened at the same font and she behaved so beautifully while I yelled like sin. Even then I must have had a foreknowledge of what our relative positions in life would be.”

“You are the silliest child, Gabriella.”

“But in spite of that fact you love me, don’t you, Gem?”

“Of course I do, and that is why I am going to take you abroad with me.”

“Dearest Gem, is this a make-believe such as you are so fond of getting up at this charmed hour, or have you suddenly fallen heir to a fortune, or what? Please explain yourself. When you speak in that assured manner of taking me to Europe I feel myself getting weak in the knees.”

Miss Cavendish laughed. “Will you positively go with me, Gabriella?”

“Will a duck swim? Oh, Gem of purest ray serene, do tell me what you are driving at. Speak seriously as one who would not trifle with sacred things. Please don’t be frivolous where such a subject is concerned. Sidney as Sidney is bad enough, but Sidney and you and Europe; I cannot endure the combination.”

[14]Miss Cavendish leaned back in her chair and fixed her eyes upon the distant hills, now an irregular line against the fast-fading primrose yellow. “You know, Gabriella,” she began, “I have been thinking for a long time of going to Europe, but I didn’t want to go alone and I didn’t want to go with a casual companion. A dozen friends and acquaintances have proposed my joining some special party, but, my dear, there is no undertaking in life, except marriage, which involves such nicety of choice as the selection of a travelling companion. One is too fussy, another too delicate, a third interested in exactly the opposite things to those which interest you, still another cannot endure pensions but insists upon hotels, or perhaps is nothing of a pedestrian but must take a carriage everywhere, and so on. I never realized how many objections could arise till I gave careful consideration to the merits and demerits of my various acquaintances. So the more I thought the matter over the more I felt inclined to venture alone with Sidney, if she would go, and you,

if you could be persuaded to leave your native land.”

“Persuaded!” ejaculated Gabriella under her breath.

“So then,” Miss Cavendish continued, “although I know but little French, less German and no Italian, I am not afraid to personally conduct our small party. I believe we could travel more cheaply than if we were to join a company of regulation tourists;[15] certainly we could be more independent, and the opportunity for adventure would be unlimited. When I broached my plan to Sidney,—you know I spent Thanksgiving with the Shaws,—she was most enthusiastic, and though I made certain stipulations, she agreed to everything and is in a state of great excitement over the prospect. Since her mother has never felt that there was a time that she could leave old Mr. Shaw, Sidney has yet to take her first trip abroad. Mrs. Shaw declares she would not willingly trust her with anyone but me, and Sidney has agreed to travel in my way, that is in a very economical manner which involves no superfluous expenditures, unless they be of a purely personal nature. So, you see, my dear, we shall all be on exactly the same footing.”

“Rather nice of Sid to agree to that, considering what she has to spend. But I don’t yet see my place in this scheme of things.”

“You will see,” Miss Cavendish went on. “I have been looking up travelling rates and pensions and Baedekers, so, with this, that and the other, I know pretty well what can be done, and I believe a thousand dollars will cover our expenses for six months and give us a very good time.”

“A thousand dollars apiece, you mean?”

“No, a thousand dollars for the two of us. It will be cheaper for two to travel together than for one, and cheaper still for three. I don’t suppose that[16] amount will buy us many Paris gowns or much Brussels lace, but I am pretty sure it will cover all but the luxuries. Now, I have the thousand dollars which I have set aside for this trip, and I shall be much happier if I can take both my goddaughters with me. Will you go?”

“But dearest, it seems perfectly sinful to spend all that money on me. Are you sure you ought to do it?”

“I’m very sure that I’d rather stay over there six months with you and Sidney than to go by myself, and I am also sure that I would much prefer your society to that of a party of strangers whose doxies might not be my doxies. When I mentioned your going to Sidney she was delighted. She spoke much more sweetly of you than you of her, though she does envy you your ready wit, your looks and your general adaptability.”

“I’ll sell them all for her ducats.”

“Because you know you can’t.”

“Sidney is a dear; I always loved her.”

“A moment ago you always hated her.”

“That was because I saw everything being poured into her lap. Now that I am to share her good times I love her. I love everybody. I love everything to the meanest worm that crawls. I never knew before what a broadly charitable spirit I possessed. It is a beautiful world and I well know that the loveliest spot in the universe is Italy. When do you think of sailing, Gem, dear?”

[17]“About the middle of March.”

“And what shall I need?”

“I intend to take only such clothing as shall be necessary for three months travel through Italy and Switzerland. This can all be stowed away in a small hand trunk which will not have to be registered as we can carry it from place to place without having it put in the baggage car, or the luggage van, as they will call it. It can be toted across platforms by a porter who will put it in the rack over our heads and there it will be in plain sight all the way. One steamer trunk will do for the two of us; it can be stored, and be sent to us when we need it for our return trip. When we get to Paris, if fripperies so possess our souls that we need room for them, we can easily buy a light wicker trunk. I must confess to indulging in an anticipation of doing that very thing.”

“How delightful it all sounds,” said Gabriella, hugging her knees. “Are you sure it is not a make-believe; one of those lovely twilight dreams you always have been so fond of summoning for my entertainment, especially when I used to call you Auntie Belle, and before I discovered that you were a true gem. What a happy discovery it was when I grew so big that to call a woman fifteen years my senior, godmother seemed ridiculous, and I cut it down to G. M., which to my delight one day resolved itself into Gem. It is the nicest name in the world[18] and just suits you, for if ever there were a gem it is you, dearest Isabella Cavendish, Auntie Belle, godmother, Gem. What a dear you have been to me ever since I got red in the face and doubled up my fists as if to fight the world, the flesh and the devil bodily, while I howled lustily in the arms of dear little Belle Cavendish, who had made my christening robe and who held me tight in spite of my squirmings and battlings with my mottled pink fists. Oh, I can see it all. I can see us later, too, when I was a witch of

three, you a dainty young lady of eighteen, who used to take me to see good little Sidney Shaw. I can remember climbing all over you and weeping on your silken shoulder because Sidney would not let me wash her face. I can remember the hoodlum at eight, too, when I came to your house and slid down the haircloth cushions of the sofa till cushions and I came to the floor together and I knocked out a tooth which for days I had refused to have drawn though it fairly waggled with looseness. I can remember how dear you were to me that day; in fact there are days all along when you have pulled me out of difficulties and have stablished my goings, and now comes the crowning act of all. If I tried to thank you in the right way I couldn’t do it. All my thanks are inside, but they choke me when I try to say them.”

“Don’t try to say them, then. Suppose we light up and look over that pile of folders and plans on my desk. I purpose sailing by way of the Mediterranean[19] directly to Naples. It will not be so cold nor so rough as the northern route.”

“Spring in Italy! Oh, goddess mother, you are indeed a fairy godmother.”

Miss Cavendish laughed. “What a contradiction of terms. If you lose your wits at this early stage of the proceedings, what will you do when we are really landed at Naples?”

“Oh, it sounds so delicious. I am actually cold and shivery. Just wait a minute till I get my breath before we tackle that dear delightful Baedeker. How familiar it will be before we are through with it. Ah, I am glad I have not outlived my enthusiasms. Usually it is so much easier to dream than to do, but now the doing will exceed the joy of the dreaming.”

CHAPTER II “UNDER THE WALLS OF PARADISE”

By the first of April Gabriella had viewed from the steamer’s deck her first walled town, that once famous city named for the Berber sheikh, Tarif Ibn Malek. The picturesque group of houses clustered in the curve of the strait, so situated as to command the entrance to the Mediterranean, was doubtless a piratical stronghold which made the most of its position in those old days and allowed few vessels to pass in free. This forerunner of the modern bugbear, customs, no doubt was quite as much, if not more, dreaded. It has its own history, has Tarifa. It has seen the fierce struggle between Christianity and Mohammedanism, and was witness in later battles to England’s effort to snatch Spain from the clutches of Napoleon.

“It would be a place well worth visiting,” said Miss Cavendish as Tarifa vanished from view and the dim outline of Africa’s shores seemed to melt into that of the Spanish coast. “I shall go there some day,” she added half to herself.

Then Gibraltar loomed up against so spectacular a sunset sky that, as Gabriella said, it seemed almost[21] too stagey. “Only Nature herself would dare to use such splashes of color, such indescribable reds and pinks and yellows.” At last the glory faded into grey and the fleecy clouds huddled down on the mountain tops, like a flock of sheep going to rest for the night.

“You’ve been wanting a sensation,” said Miss Cavendish, “and I am sure nothing could be more thrilling than our first sight of Gibraltar; that mighty rock with that gorgeous sunset behind it. I, for one, shall not forget it while I live.”

“Nor I,” Gabriella hastened to say, “but I am truly glad that you did not say that frowning rock; it would have spoiled my sensations.”

“To think that we are in the Mediterranean and that yonder is Spain,” remarked Sidney; “it is very exciting.”

“Still,” returned Gabriella, “you can’t say it has been an eventful trip. This is our first excitement and we have been ten days out; not an iceberg, not an accident of any kind, not even a storm.”

“For which Heaven be thanked,” ejaculated Miss Cavendish fervently.

If Gabriella wanted excitement she had it before the next morning, for at an early hour the passengers were roused by a sudden jar, a sound of scraping along the side of the steamer, then there was the terrifying silence, which follows when the familiar throbbing of the engines ceases to be felt. Next[22] there was a sound of running footsteps overhead, of dragging ropes and clanging bells. Gabriella made a tumultuous descent from her berth and hurried to the porthole. “What is it? What is the matter?” cried Miss Cavendish. “I must call Sidney.” She hurried into her dressing-gown and rushed to the adjoining stateroom which Sidney occupied. She found the girl gazing out of the porthole, with apparently no apprehensive fears.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she said in response to Miss Cavendish’s touch upon her arm. “Just look out, Gem, and see how perfectly exquisite it is.”

“Dear me, I thought I should find you scared to death,” said Miss Cavendish. “Is there really nothing wrong, Sidney?”

“No, I can’t discover that there is. Just see that sky and that little ship and all.”

Miss Cavendish looked out upon a scene of wonderful beauty. Overhead where the sky was deeply blue, a waning moon swam like a galley with prow high in air. In the east there was a faint flush of dawn rosily pink toward the horizon, while midway toward the zenith a great silver star cast its beams upon the deep blue waters below. At a little distance from the steamer lay a white sailing vessel like a wounded bird. From the fact that a small boat was hastily making its way toward it, the passengers gathered that something had happened to the sailing vessel and a closer examination showed that the bowsprit[23] was gone and a gaping hole was visible. Miss Cavendish returned to Gabriella. “There is nothing very much the matter,” the latter assured her. “I think we must have run down that poor little schooner. She seems quite helpless. Look, Gem, at the rows of heads poking out of the port-holes for all the world like turtles from their shells. I’ve been conversing with our next-door neighbor, and he told me what was the matter. It was great fun to watch them

lower the boat. The captain and second officer went off in it to the little vessel. I hope no one was hurt.”

Later developments proved that no one was hurt, but that the vessel was disabled and must be towed back to port. “You wanted excitement and you had it,” said Sidney to Gabriella, “and now we shall be a whole day late in getting into port, though I must say I don’t care much. I wouldn’t have missed that exquisite dawn for anything, besides all day we shall have those beautiful snow-capped mountains to look at.”

“To say nothing of the thrill we received when we thought something serious had happened. I shall never forget my sensation when the engines stopped; it seemed the deadliest silence I ever experienced. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“You would be singing another tune,” said Miss Cavendish, “if you were adrift in a life-boat on this fickle Mediterranean.”

“But so long as I am not, I can rejoice at the[24] adventure,” returned Gabriella, “for now we shall see Malaga, and I am dying to step on Spanish soil. Do you suppose they will allow us to land?”

However, though Malaga was the nearest port, the passengers did not see it that day, for by noon the schooner had been transferred to the care of a passing craft, and the travellers were again headed for Naples. They were made aware of their approach very early one morning when one of the steerage passengers rent the quiet of daybreak by a thrilling cry of “Italia!” All his heart was in his voice. He had been watching all night. Amid sunshine and flowers they landed, and were whirled to their convent pension through Naples’ picturesque streets.

“Naples may have few great buildings to display,” said Miss Cavendish, looking around critically, “and oh, what a dirty place! but such color, such motifs for pictures may well drive an artist wild. One can forgive her filth that she covers up with flowers, and who would ask for splendid architecture where there are streets like this?” She waved her hand toward a thoroughfare which was a series of steps bordered on each side by stalls crowded with masses of flowers. Overhead, on lines stretched across, dangled garments of many hues, scarlet cloths hung from the window-sills; the windows themselves were often screened by yellow or red awnings; balconies displayed pots or growing plants and trailing vines; up and down the street groups[25] of persons or single individuals passed and repassed in constant procession; all was color, glow, sunshine; a picture framed between the soft greyish white walls of the tall houses which cast deep shadows only to make the sunlight seem brighter.

“I was afraid the approach to Naples would be the most satisfying picture she could present to us,” said Miss Cavendish, “but I am not disappointed with this inland scene.”

“I suppose it displays an appalling amount of inexperience and crass ignorance to be so surprised and pleased,” said Sidney, “but when it is one’s first trip abroad one has a right to be enthusiastic, don’t you think? I have no doubt some of our friends would find this anything but stimulating, ‘so hackneyed’ they would say, ‘Why not find something more unfamiliar to rave over?’”

“Oh, but I was under the impression that we came because it was new to us, and I, for one, do not intend to act like a disillusioned globe-trotter who has drunk her travelling-glass to the dregs. This is to be a journey of joy to us who have not outgrown our enthusiasms, and anything that contributes in the least to our pleasure is to be welcomed, be it old or new, well known or discovered on the instant. I believe in seeing the in-the-way places first, and the out-of-the-way ones another time.” Gabriella spoke decidedly.