Four Meetings | Page 5

myself that here I
am at last. It's so dark and old and different."
"By the way," I inquired, "how come you to be sitting here? Have you
not gone to one of the inns?" For I was half amused, half alarmed, at
the good conscience with which this delicately pretty woman had
stationed herself in conspicuous isolation on the edge of the trottoir.
"My cousin brought me here," she answered. "You know I told you I
had a cousin in Europe. He met me at the steamer this morning."
"It was hardly worth his while to meet you if he was to desert you so
soon."
"Oh, he has only left me for half an hour," said Miss Spencer. "He has
gone to get my money."
"Where is your money?"
She gave a little laugh. "It makes me feel very fine to tell you! It is in
some circular notes."

"And where are your circular notes?"
"In my cousin's pocket."
This statement was very serenely uttered, but--I can hardly say why--it
gave me a sensible chill At the moment I should have been utterly
unable to give the reason of this sensation, for I knew nothing of Miss
Spencer's cousin. Since he was her cousin, the presumption was in his
favor. But I felt suddenly uncomfortable at the thought that, half an
hour after her landing, her scanty funds should have passed into his
hands.
"Is he to travel with you?" I asked.
"Only as far as Paris. He is an art-student, in Paris. I wrote to him that I
was coming, but I never expected him to come off to the ship. I
supposed he would only just meet me at the train in Paris. It is very
kind of him. But he is very kind, and very bright."
I instantly became conscious of an extreme curiosity to see this bright
cousin who was an art-student.
"He is gone to the banker's?" I asked.
"Yes, to the banker's. He took me to a hotel, such a queer, quaint,
delicious little place, with a court in the middle, and a gallery all round,
and a lovely landlady, in such a beautifully fluted cap, and such a
perfectly fitting dress! After a while we came out to walk to the
banker's, for I haven't got any French money. But I was very dizzy
from the motion of the vessel, and I thought I had better sit down. He
found this place for me here, and he went off to the banker's himself. I
am to wait here till he comes back."
It may seem very fantastic, but it passed through my mind that he
would never come back. I settled myself in my chair beside Miss
Spencer and determined to await the event. She was extremely
observant; there was something touching in it. She noticed everything
that the movement of the street brought before us,--peculiarities of

costume, the shapes of vehicles, the big Norman horses, the fat priests,
the shaven poodles. We talked of these things, and there was something
charming in her freshness of perception and the way her
book-nourished fancy recognized and welcomed everything.
"And when your cousin comes back, what are you going to do?" I
asked.
She hesitated a moment. "We don't quite know."
"When do you go to Paris? If you go by the four o'clock train, I may
have the pleasure of making the journey with you."
"I don't think we shall do that. My cousin thinks I had better stay here a
few days."
"Oh!" said I; and for five minutes said nothing more. I was wondering
what her cousin was, in vulgar parlance, "up to." I looked up and down
the street, but saw nothing that looked like a bright American
art-student. At last I took the liberty of observing that Havre was hardly
a place to choose as one of the æsthetic stations of a European tour. It
was a place of convenience, nothing more; a place of transit, through
which transit should be rapid. I recommended her to go to Paris by the
afternoon train, and meanwhile to amuse herself by driving to the
ancient fortress at the mouth of the harbor,--that picturesque circular
structure which bore the name of Francis the First, and looked like a
small castle of St. Angelo. (It has lately been demolished.)
She listened with much interest; then for a moment she looked grave.
"My cousin told me that when he returned he should have something
particular to say to me, and that we could do nothing or decide nothing
until I should have heard it. But I will make him tell me quickly, and
then we will go to the ancient fortress. There is no hurry to get to Paris;
there is plenty of time."
She