Читать книгу Betty Lee, Sophomore - Harriet Pyne Grove - Страница 6

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“We shall not worry about being late, Betty. They have to get through customs first and it is doubtful if all the baggage is off the vessel as yet. It can not have been in long.”

Nevertheless Betty could see that her father was uneasy. The taxi lost no time in speeding from the ferry to the pier where the great ship stood. Such a coming and going of cars and buses, in and out of a great entrance! Other cars and taxies waited their turn outside. Their taxi found a place to stop and deliver its passengers, but Mr. Lee had to steer Betty carefully through the throng of people and cars.

Next came the art of finding their friends. Mr. Lee had cards which entitled them to enter customs. “My, I hope we find them!” said Betty for the third or fourth time. “And oh, how do you speak to a countess? Shall we call her ‘La Countessa’? or just Countess Coletti? And what is the daughter of a countess called—anything at all? Or could I call her ‘Signorina?’?” Betty had been reading an Italian story.

“I’m sure I don’t know, Betty, but it would be sensible, I think, to keep to English, especially as the countess is an American. I shall not get away from ‘Countess Coletti’ and perhaps we shall not have to address the daughter particularly. ‘Miss Coletti’ does sound like a funny combination, doesn’t it! Try out ‘la signorina’ if you like. I don’t know that we are of any special importance anyway.” They were climbing the stairs now and Betty’s father gave her arm a little squeeze as he spoke, looking laughingly down into her face.

“Yes, we are,” said Betty, “and we can learn how to do it properly!”

Fortunately the countess and her daughter had not yet finished with customs. When Mr. Lee and Betty found the proper place and stood looking about, they had little difficulty in selecting the two whom they thought were the countess and her daughter. “We ought to have arranged to wear a red rose or a white gardenia or something,” said Betty. “But that is the countess, I’m sure. Look, she has a maid with a lot of little baggage, and everybody is doing things for her. Wait a minute, Daddy. She’s having an argument with the customs officer, I guess—isn’t she?”

Mr. Lee did wait. Though anxious to serve the lady, he did not care to sponsor her declaration in regard to duty payable to Uncle Sam, and it must be said that the countess looked perfectly able to take care of her own interests. But the affair seemed to be adjusted amicably. A great quantity of baggage, it seemed, was hastily examined, and as Mr. Lee saw that they would soon be ready for departure, he approached, with Betty.

“Is this the Countess Coletti?” he inquired politely, though by this time he had noted the name upon one of the trunks. “Your brother, Mr. Murchison——”

“Oh, did Lem send you to meet me?” vivaciously the countess interrupted, “That is good. I was just wondering if any one was here. Where’s Lem?”

Mr. Lee had had no opportunity to mention who he was, but he explained that her brother was not able to leave affairs and that he would make any arrangements for her and her daughter. “My name is Lee, Countess Coletti, and this is my daughter, Betty.”

“Oh, yes,” brightly answered the countess, “I am very happy to met you—and Miss Betty. This is my daughter Lucia, Mr. Lee—and Miss Lee. Now if we can arrange to have all this baggage sent to whatever station my brother said, and get us to a hotel for the night, I shall be very much obliged. I want to go right on through tomorrow; but Lucia is very much upset and so am I, for that matter. It was a horribly rough passage. This customs business is always so trying!”

“I am sorry to have been late,” said Mr. Lee, “but the hour told me over the telephone was much later.”

“Oh, yes. You never can tell. It wouldn’t have made any difference. They were very good about getting all my baggage off early, as I made quite a point of it. There were mobs on this boat, from first class down. Suppose we get out of here.”

“I have a taxi waiting, Madam,” said Mr. Lee, starting to escort the countess down to where his taxi driver had said he would be waiting inside. By this time it was very likely that he had been able to enter. Betty and a very unresponsive girl of about her own height and age followed. My, but the countess was pretty! And if she had any foreign airs they were laid aside for the present. But the daughter was cool, and though polite, most uninterested in the two people whom she had just met. “Poor thing,” thought Betty, “she is worn out and half sick; but I wish I’d had her chance of crossing the ocean, even if it was so rough.”

Both the countess and her daughter were quietly and suitably dressed for the occasion of leaving the ship. But oh, how evidently expensive everything they wore must have been. The maids were carrying two beautiful warm coats, which had obviously just been laid aside when the cold sea breezes were past and they were no longer necessary. “Send the maids and the personal baggage in a separate taxi, please,” directed the countess. “We want to be alone.”

Whether that was a hint for Mr. Lee and Betty not to accompany them or not, Mr. Lee did not know, but as he had had no least intention to accompany them, it did not matter. He had expected, however, that the maids might be wanted.

Pleasantly he assisted the two ladies into the taxi, one chosen for its superior appearance, and directed the driver to the hotel, the hotel selected by Mr. Murchison, who requested that Mr. Lee and Betty stay at the same one. It was not hard to find a second taxi for the maids, from the numbers of empty taxis whose drivers were anxious for remunerative passengers.

“Now, Betty,” said Mr. Lee, “for the baggage. You stay in one spot, right here, where I can find you, while I see about having that lot sent to the station. Let us hope that nothing is missed! But the countess told me the number of pieces, all marked with her name, she said.”

“Oh, please let me come with you, Father! It’s scary here, and it’s such fun to go around. I see where Lu-chee-a and I become intimate friends, don’t you?”

Mr. Lee laughed. “The poor child has been seasick,” he replied. “But I fancy that she has been a very unwilling migrant this time. She looked not only sick but cross.”

“Did you notice it, too? But she was real polite to you, Father, and decent to me. She isn’t as good-looking as her mother. I don’t blame Count Coletti for falling in love with her. Probably Lucia looks like her father.”

“He is a very handsome man, I understand,” returned Mr. Lee. “I thought Lucia Coletti rather attractive.”

“Yes, but not as much so as her mother. Still, it may be just her disposition that was sticking out tonight!”

“Why, Betty! That isn’t like you.”

“I guess I’m tired and cross, too. I will wait for you, right here by the stairs.”

Betty had quite a wait of it, but at last her father appeared and they took a taxi back to the hotel. There her father inquired if the countess, daughter and maids had arrived and were occupying the suite reserved for them. They had arrived, found everything to their satisfaction, and dinner had been sent up to them.

Betty thought that a little more respect for her father was in the voice of the man at the desk since the arrival of the countess, for whose comfort Mr. Lee appeared to be responsible. Glad that everything had gone successfully for her father, Betty took the elevator to her room to dress for dinner at the hotel. They did not always dine there, but would tonight, her father said. It seemed a pity to “waste” their last night in New York by staying in the hotel, but Mr. Lee had to arrange for Pullman reservations as well as he could at the last minute, for he had not had the slightest notion whether the countess would want to stay several days in New York—or a month—so far as he knew, or whether she would want to go on home, to her people. He thought, however, that very likely the decision would be for home. Mr. Murchison had not intimated any trouble, but Mr. Lee very strongly suspected that there was some likelihood of a disagreement between the countess and her husband and a possible separation. This he did not express to Betty.

Fortunately Mr. Lee had no trouble in obtaining reservations on the train whose time of leaving and of arrival seemed most suitable. A drawing room for the countess and her daughter, berths for the maids, and berths for himself and Betty were soon engaged by telephone, and on Monday morning Mr. Lee went to the station to see that everything was straight.

This was all very interesting to Betty, whose ideas of how to manage these matters had been very hazy. The reservation for Mr. Lee and Betty were in another car, which was just as well, Betty thought, though if the younger countess—that is, if she is one, thought Betty—had been friendly, it would have been fun to talk with her about her school in Switzerland and what she studied and all.

The trip home, however, proved more interesting than Betty anticipated. Perhaps Countess Coletti had suggested to her daughter that she ought to pay a little attention to Betty, who did not see either of them on Monday until the uniformed and meticulous “door-keeper” of the hotel, as Betty called him, put them all into their separate taxis for the station. Lucia favored Betty with a smile, which Betty returned; and when they waited for the train to be called, Lucia asked Betty to be sure to come for a visit with her on the way. “It will be so stupid this afternoon,” said Lucia. “I’m too tired to read.”

Betty promised, but she waited until she thought Lucia might have reached the state of being bored. So far as Betty was concerned, there was nothing to tire her, and the scenery was too interesting; guessing what the rivers were, asking her father, noting the stops and admiring the suburbs of Philadelphia in particular, furnished her with considerable entertainment. “I think Pennsylvania is the loveliest yet,” she confided to her father. “Let’s move to Philadelphia some time!”

“Haven’t you had enough of a move already?” asked Mr. Lee.

“I think I like adventure, Father,” brightly answered Betty.

“I suppose so,” rather wearily her father remarked. “But remember, my lass, that there is a certain safety in being located. Did you say that the ‘younger countess’ asked you to call? I think I should do it, Betty.”

“All right, I will. How do I get there?”

“Their car is only one or two in front of ours. Shall I take you?”

“Mercy, no! I can get there after skipping through so many to get to the dining car on the way to New York. Your daughter considers herself quite a traveler by this time.”

So Betty, rather dreading the coming interview, departed to be pleasantly surprised. She had no trouble in finding her new acquaintances and discovered that they were really quite interested in finding out all Betty could tell them about school.

“I am going to hate it,” said Lucia, who spoke with a decided Italian accent, but used many Americanisms, probably caught from her mother. “But just the same, if I have to, I have to; and will you help me when I come out to the school the first time?”

“Certainly I will. But are you sure that you will come to Lyon High?”

“Oh, that can be arranged,” carelessly returned Lucia, who was used to having things “arranged” for her. “I’ve heard so much about that high school and if I have to go, I want to go there. There were some American girls in my school in Lausanne, so I know a little bit about how they do. Do you like it?”

“Very much. I’d love to hear you tell about the school in Switzerland, though.”

Lucia was in a favorable mood. For the next hour she and Betty talked, while Betty heard about life in foreign countries and what Lucia had studied in her different schools there. She was advanced in some lines, Betty found, behind in others, but Betty told her that it all sounded as if she would be a sophomore. “Will you use any title?” Betty rather timidly asked, for she thought that if Lucia was a “countess or something” herself, it would not go so well in school.

Countess Coletti heard the question and replied herself. “Lucia is going to try democracy, Betty Lee. She will be called Lucia Coletti or Miss Coletti everywhere. I want her to have a little American training. To be sure, I was taught in private schools myself, and Lucia may in time return to them. But not until she has done some good work in high school.”

What was back of Countess Coletti’s determined tones Betty did not know. But there was some strong feeling there; that was certain.

Lucia did not speak of her father, but when Betty said that it was all fascinating to hear about and asked her where her real home had been, Lucia after a slight hesitation, waxed almost enthusiastic over an Italian villa where she “loved to live” best. Every now and then Lucia would use an Italian expression, which Betty thought very impressive, though she could not help thinking of some less fortunate Italian girls in school and she wondered how Lucia would treat them, in case she were thrown into classes with them.

But here came Father with the suggestion that it was an appropriate time to go for dinner. Accordingly, he escorted the countess through the cars, while Betty and Lucia followed. Betty, who always declared that she thought of too many funny things, wondered about the maids. But when they were all established at a table, with an obsequious waiter taking the order from the countess first, Betty saw the two maids at an inconspicuous table some distance from them. Probably her father had arranged it.

Then they had a most “scrumptious” meal, by Betty’s report at home. She gave her father an inquiring glance before she decided upon her own order and he smiled upon her; suggesting that she order a good meal, for the dining car would be taken off and their breakfast would be delayed. “We shall probably, all of us, breakfast at home. Mr. Murchison will meet the countess, Betty, and we shall take a taxi straight home.”

So Betty grasped the fact that her father wasn’t “caring for expenses,” as the girls were accustomed to express such recklessness, and modeled her own order after Lucia’s. Comfortably filled, she watched her father pay the bill and leave what seemed to her an enormous tip for the waiter. But sakes alive, weren’t they dining with a countess?