Penelopes Experiences in Scotland | Page 4

dream of duty and sacrifice was
over.
Salemina says she was somewhat constrained for a week and a trifle
cynical for a fortnight, but that afterwards her spirits mounted on ever

ascending spirals to impossible heights, where they have since
remained. It appears from all this that although she was piqued at being
taken at her word, her heart was not in the least damaged. It never was
one of those fragile things which have to be wrapped in cotton, and
preserved from the slightest blow--Francesca's heart. It is made of
excellent stout, durable material, and I often tell her with the care she
takes of it, and the moderate strain to which it is subjected, it ought to
be as good as new a hundred years hence.
As for me, the scene of my own love-story is laid in America and
England, and has nought to do with Edinburgh. It is far from finished;
indeed, I hope it will be the longest serial on record, one of those
charming tales that grow in interest as chapter after chapter unfolds,
until at the end we feel as if we could never part with the delightful
people.
I should be, at this very moment, Mrs. William Beresford, a highly
respectable young matron who painted rather good pictures in her
spinster days, when she was Penelope Hamilton of the great American
working-class, Unlimited; but first Mrs. Beresford's dangerous illness
and then her death, have kept my dear boy a willing prisoner in Cannes,
his heart sadly torn betwixt his love and duty to his mother and his
desire to be with me. The separation is virtually over now, and we two,
alas! have ne'er a mother or a father between us, so we shall not wait
many months before beginning to comfort each other in good earnest.
Meantime Salemina and Francesca have persuaded me to join their
forces, and Mr. Beresford will follow us to Scotland in a few short
weeks, when we shall have established ourselves in the country.
We are overjoyed at being together again, we three women folk. As I
said before, we know the worst of one another, and the future has no
terrors. We have learned, for example, that--
Francesca does not like an early morning start. Salemina refuses to
arrive late anywhere. Penelope prefers to stay behind and follow next
day.

Francesca scorns to travel third class. So does Salemina, but she will if
urged.
Penelope hates a four-wheeler. Salemina is nervous in a hansom.
Francesca prefers a barouche or a landau.
Salemina likes a steady fire in the grate. Penelope opens a window and
fans herself.
Salemina inclines to instructive and profitable expeditions. Francesca
loves processions and sightseeing. Penelope abhors all of these equally.
Salemina likes history. Francesca loves fiction. Penelope adores poetry
and detests facts.
Penelope likes substantial breakfasts. Francesca dislikes the sight of
food in the morning.
In the matter of breakfasts, when we have leisure to assert our
individual tastes, Salemina prefers tea, Francesca cocoa, and I, coffee.
We can never, therefore, be served with a large comfortable pot of
anything, but are confronted instead with a caravan of silver jugs, china
jugs, bowls of hard and soft sugar, hot milk, cold milk, hot water, and
cream, while each in her secret heart wishes that the other two were
less exigeante in the matter of diet and beverages.
This does not sound promising, but it works perfectly well in practice
by the exercise of a little flexibility.
As we left dear old Dovermarle Street and Smith's Private Hotel behind,
and drove to the station to take the Flying Scotsman, we indulged in
floods of reminiscence over the joys of travel we had tasted together in
the past, and talked with lively anticipation of the new experiences
awaiting us in the land of heather.
While Salemina went to purchase the three first-class tickets, I
superintended the porters as they disposed our luggage in the van, and
in so doing my eye lighted upon a third-class carriage which was, for a

wonder, clean, comfortable, and vacant. Comparing it hastily with the
first-class compartment being held by Francesca, I found that it differed
only in having no carpet on the floor, and a smaller number of buttons
in the upholstering. This was really heartrending when the difference in
fare for three persons would be at least twenty dollars. What a
delightful sum to put aside for a rainy day!--that is, be it understood,
what a delightful sum to put aside and spend on the first rainy day! for
that is the way we always interpret the expression.
When Salemina returned with the tickets, she found me, as usual,
bewailing our extravagance.
Francesca descended suddenly from her post, and, wresting the tickets
from her duenna, exclaimed, "'I know that