A Cathedral Courtship | Page 6

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