Polly and Her Friends Abroad

“Ah yes! I never thought of that!” murmured the inn-keeper, and a smile of satisfaction illumed his heavy face.

The next morning the young pair were in high favor with the father, and he was telling his son-in-law about various things he must raise on his farm so that both families might save money.

Then the tourists drove away from Agen with the inn-keeper’s blessings ringing in their ears, and after a long tiresome drive they came to Bordeaux. Various places of interest were visited in this city, and the next day they drove on again.

Brittany, with its wealth of old chateaux, was reached next, and time was spent prodigally, that the girls might view the wonderful old places where tourists were welcomed.

CHAPTER XV – AHOY! FOR THE STARS AND STRIPES AGAIN

Finally the tourists stopped at Nantes where the famous edict of Henri the IVth was proclaimed in 1598. Then they drove on to Angers, with the old Chateau d’ Angers, built by Louis IXth, about 1250.

They stopped over night at Angers and drove to Saumur the next day, where several pieces of rare old tapestry were seen in the ancient church of St. Pierre.

That night they reached Tours where they planned to stop, in order to make an early start for Loches with its famous chateau. Adjoining this chateau was a thousand-year-old church of St. Ours which Mr. Fabian desired to show the girls.

The old keeper of the church mentioned the Chateau of Amboise which was only a short distance further on the road and was said to be well worth visiting. So they drove there and saw the chapel of St. Hubert which was built by Charles the VIIth. Here lies buried the remains of Leonardo da Vinci, the famous painter.

While at St. Hubert’s Chapel, the tourists heard of still another ancient chateau of the 10th century, which was but a few miles further on, on the Loire. As this Chateau ’de Chaumont was only open to visitors on certain days and this day happened to be one of those days, they visited the place.

“My gracious!” exclaimed Mr. Alexander, when they came from the last ancient pile. “I’ll be so glad to get back to Denver, where the oldest house is only half a century old, that I won’t say a word if you’ll agree to only use another precious week lookin’ at these moldy old rocks and moss-back roofs.”

His friends laughed, for they knew him well by this time. Mrs. Alexander, however, was not so thankful to go back to Denver, nor was she willing to see any more old chateaux. So she said: “Let’s drive on to Paris where we have so much shopping to do.”

“Oh no, Ma. The keeper of that last chateau told us there was the finest old place of all, a few miles on, so we want to see that as long as we are here,” said Dodo.

“All right, then! You-all go on and see it, but I’ll stay here,” declared Mrs. Alexander.

“I don’t want to see any more ruins, Maggie, so s’pose you and I drive in your car and let Dodo drive the touring car to any old stone-heap they want to visit,” said Mr. Alexander.

“All right, Ebeneezer. I honestly believe I’d rather sit beside you, in my new car, than have to limp around these old houses,” sighed Mrs. Alexander.

Her words were not very gracious, but her spouse thought that, being her guest in the new car, was better than having to wait for hours outside a ruin. So Dodo drove her friends on to the Chateau de Blois, and they inspected the old place, then saw the famous stable that was built to accommodate twelve hundred horses at one time.

“Here we are, but a short distance from Orleans – why not run over there and visit the place, then drive back to Nantes to meet your father and mother,” suggested Mr. Fabian.

“It seems too bad that we have to go all the way back for them, when we are so near Paris, now,” said Dodo.

“Oh, but we haven’t finished the most interesting section of France, yet!” exclaimed Eleanor, who had been looking over Mr. Fabian’s road-map.

“In that case, I fear we will lose Ma for company,” said Dodo, laughingly. “As we come nearer Paris, she is more impatient to reach there. She may suddenly take it into her head to let her car skid along the road that leads away from us and straight for Paris.”

From Nantes they drove straight on without stopping until Caens was reached; Mr. Fabian pointed out various places along the road, and told of famous historical facts in connection with them, but they did not visit any of the scenes.

Caen, with its old churches and quaint buildings, was very interesting to the girls. Then at Bayeaux they went to see the wonderful Bayeaux tapestry which was wrought by Matilda and her Ladies in Waiting in 1062. This tapestry is two hundred and thirty feet long and twenty inches wide, but it pictures the most marvellous historical scenes ever reproduced in weaving.

From Bayeaux they went to Mont St. Michel to see the eight hundred year-old monastery which is so well preserved. Rouen, the capital of Normandy, was the next stopping place on the itinerary, and here they saw many ancient Norman houses as well as churches. But the principal point of interest for the girls, was the monument in Rouen, erected to the memory of Joan of Arc, who was burned to death for her faith.

The night they spent at Rouen, Mr. Alexander had a serious talk with Mr. Fabian and his girls.

“You see, I want to please you-all, but Maggie won’t stand for any more of this gallivantin’ around old churches. I’m gettin’ awful tired of it, myself, but then I don’t count much, anyway.

“Maggie says she’s goin’ right on to Paris, whether you-all do so or not; and if I let her go there alone, she’ll buy her head off with fine clothes, and then Dodo and me won’t know what to do to cart them all back to the States. So I have to go with her in self-defense, you understand!”

They laughed at the worried expression on the little man’s face, and Mr. Fabian said: “Well, Mr. Alex, we are through sight-seeing for this time, anyway, so we may as well run back to Paris when you do.”

“Oh, that’s good news! Almost as good as if I won the first prize in the Louisanny Lottery!” laughed Mr. Alexander, jocosely.

So they all drove to Paris, where Mr. Ashby was to meet them, in a few days. As Mr. Alexander deftly threaded the car in and out through the congested traffic, he sighed and said: “I never thought I’d be so glad to see this good-for-nothin’ town again. But I’ve been so tossed and torn tourin’ worst places, that even Paris looks good to me, now.”

His friends laughed and his wife said: “Why, it is the most wonderful city in the world! I am going to enjoy myself all I can in the next three days.”

“You’d better, Maggie! ’cause we are leavin’ this wild town in just three days’ time!” declared Mr. Alexander.

“Why – where are you going, then?” asked Mrs. Alexander, surprised at her husband’s determined tone.

“Straight back to Denver, as fast as a ship and steam-cars will carry us!”

“Never! Why, Ebeneezer, I haven’t succeeded in doing what I came over for,” argued Mrs. Alexander.

“No, thank goodness; and Dodo says she’s standin’ for a career now,” laughed Mr. Alexander. “I agree with her, and she can start right in this Fall to study Interior Decoratin’, if she likes.”

Mrs. Alexander did not reply, and no one knew what she thought of Dodo’s determination, but when all the shopping was done, and Mr. Ashby met them at the hotel, she seemed as anxious as the others, to start for home.

“We are to pick up Ruth and Mrs. Ashby at Dover, you know,” said Mr. Ashby, when he concluded his plans for the return home.

“Well, we have had a wonderful tour out of this summer. I never dreamed there were so many marvellous things to see, in Europe,” said Polly.

That evening, several letters were handed to the Fabian party, and among them was one for Polly and another for Eleanor. Polly’s was stamped “Oak Creek” and the hand-writing looked a deal like Tom Larimer’s. But Eleanor’s was from Denver and Dodo cried teasingly: “Oh, I recognize Paul Stewart’s writing! It hasn’t changed one bit since he was a boy and used to send me silly notes at school.”

Eleanor laughed at that, but why should she blush? Polly gazed thoughtfully at her, and decided that Nolla must have no foolish love affair, yet – not even with Paul Stewart!

Then Eleanor caught Polly’s eye and seemed to comprehend what was passing through her mind. She quickly rose to the occasion.

“Polly, if I confess that my letter is from Paul, will you own up that yours is from Tom – and tell us the truth about the American Beauty Roses?”

Polly became as crimson as the roses mentioned, and sent her chum a look that should have annihilated her. But Eleanor laughed.

That evening, as the merry party sat at dinner in the gay Parisian dining-room, Mr. Alexander suddenly sat up. His lower jaw dropped. He was opposite a wall-mirror and in its reflection he could see who came in at the door back of him.

He had been telling a funny incident of the tour and had but half finished it, so his abrupt silence caused everyone to look at him. His expression then made the others turn and look at what had made him forget his story.

In the doorway stood Count Chalmys, looking around the room. Now his eyes reached the American party at the round table and he smiled delightedly. In another moment he was across the room and bowing before the ladies.

Mr. Alexander grunted angrily and kept his eyes upon his plate. He never wanted to see another man who had a title! But his wife made amends for his apparent disregard for conventions. She made room beside herself and insisted that the Count sit down and dine.

“I never had a pleasanter surprise,” said he. “I expected to see the Marquis here, but I find my dear American friends, instead.”

“Humph! What play are you acting in now, Count?” asked Mr. Alexander, shortly.

“That’s what brought me to Paris. I was to meet the Marquis here, and we both were to sail from Havre, day after tomorrow. We have accepted a long engagement with a leading picture company in California, so I am to go across, at once,” explained the Count, nothing daunted by Mr. Alexander’s tone and aggressive manner.

“Oh really! How perfectly lovely for us all!” exclaimed Mrs. Alexander, clasping her hands in joy.

Then she turned to her daughter who seemed not to be giving as much attention to the illustrious addition to the party, as Mrs. Alexander thought proper.

“Dodo, must you talk such nonsense with Polly when our dear Count is with us and, most likely, has wonderful things to tell us of his adventures since last we saw him at his beautiful palace?”

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Ma, but I didn’t know the Count had said anything to me,” hastily returned Dodo.

“I really haven’t, as yet, Miss Alexander, but there is every symptom that something is being mulled over in my brain,” was the merry retort from the Count.

“All the same, Dodo, I want you to give attention to the dear Count, now that he is with us, once more,” said Mrs. Alexander, with such dignity as would suit the mother-in-law of a Count.

“Aye, aye, Sir!” laughed the irrepressible Dodo, bringing her right hand to her forehead in a military salute.

“I joined the party, just now, merely to share a very felicitous secret with you. One that I feel sure you will all be pleased to hear. Perhaps the three young ladies in the group will be more interested in my secret than the matrons,” ventured Count Chalmys, with charming self-consciousness.

Instantly, Mrs. Alexander interpreted the secret as one that meant success to her strenuous endeavors to find a “title” for her daughter. She had heard that foreign nobility made no secret of love or proposals, but spoke to interested friends of intentions to marry, even before the young woman had been told or had accepted a proposal of marriage. This, then, must be what Count Chalmys was about to tell them.

“Oh, my dear Count! Before you share that secret with every one, especially while the children are present, wouldn’t you just as soon wait and have a private little chat with me?” gushed Mrs. Alexander, tapping him fondly on the cheek with her feather fan.

The Count stared at her in perplexity for he was not following her mood, nor did he give one fleeting thought to such foolishness as she endowed him with entertaining.

“You know, my dear Count! I am speaking of certain little personal matters regarding settlements and such like, which I only can discuss with you, satisfactorily. After that, you can confide in the others, if you like. However, I should think you would speak to the one most concerned, before you mention it in public.” Mrs. Alexander spoke in confidential tones meant only for the Count’s ear.

“My dear lady! I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean. I was only going to tell my good friends, here, that – ”

“Yes, yes! I know what you were going to say, dear Count,” hastily interrupted Mrs. Alexander, “but allow me to advise you: Say nothing until after I have had a private talk with you. I am sure Dodo will look at things very differently after I have had time to get your view-points and then tell them to her.”

Count Chalmys began to receive light on the hitherto unenlightening advices from the earnest lady. He now had difficulty in hiding a broad smile. But Mrs. Alexander paid no heed to him.

“You see, Count dear, we shall have several wonderful days on this trip across, in which you can make the best of your opportunities with Dodo, but really, I think it wise to consult with me first.”

“My dear Mrs. Alexander! won’t you permit me to explain myself, before you go deeper into this problem from which you will have chagrin in finding a pleasant way out?” asked the Count.

Mrs. Alexander gazed at him in frowning perplexity. “What is the happy secret you wished to share with us, if it is not your intention to propose to one of the young ladies in our party?”

“I am to have a third member in my party, this trip, although she is not one of the company in California,” said the Count, smilingly. “I mean the pretty girl who played in the picture in Venice. We were married last week, and having settled all matters at Chalmys and leased the place for a term, we will remain in the United States for a long time.”

At this unexpected information, Mrs Alexander almost swooned, but her husband seemed to change his manners as quickly as if they were old clothes. He smiled cordially at the Count and suggested a toast to his bride – but the toast was given with Ginger Ale.

That evening the Count introduced his Countess, and Mrs. Alexander gritted her teeth in impotent rage. “Oh, how nearly had she plucked this prize for Dodo, and now he had married a plain little actress!” thought she.

But she never knew that the Count had been attentive to his lady-love for three years before Mrs. Alexander ever met him. Had it not been for the heavy debts of his Italian Estate, he would never have delayed his proposal. Even as it was, he found happiness to be more important in life than wealth and a palace.

The young countess was very pretty and promised to be a welcome addition to the group of young folks. Polly, Eleanor and Dodo liked her immensely, from the moment they saw her charming smile as she acknowledged the introductions. Evidently she was very glad to find a number of young Americans of her own age with whom she could associate on the trip across the Atlantic.

Everyone but Mrs. Alexander, made the young couple feel very much at ease. Ebeneezer Alexander saw and understood his wife’s aloofness and straightway he decided to speak a bit of his mind to her as soon as they were in the shelter of their own suite at the hotel.

“Now, lem’me tell you what, Maggie! I ain’t goin’ to have you actin’ like all get-out, just because Chalmys went and married the gal he loved, disappointin’ you, thereby. Even if he had gone your way of plannin’, and ast Dodo to marry him, I’d have to say ‘NO!’ He’s saved me from hurtin’ his feelin’s, see?”

Mrs. Alexander tried to stare her insignificant lord into silence, but the little man had found his metal while traveling with appreciative people, and he was not to be downed any more by mere looks and empty words from his wife.

“Yeh! you kin sit there and stare all you like but stares don’t hurt and they ain’t changin’ the case, at all. Dodo wasn’t a-goin’ to marry no one, not even if you cried your head off for it, ’cause she’s made up her mind to try out decoratin’ for a time. So you jest watch your p’s and q’s when you’re mixin’ in with the Chalmys; and don’t show your ignerence of perlite society by actin’ upish and jealous as a cat.”

Whether this sound advice actually had its effect upon Mrs. Alexander, or whether she forgot her chagrin, it is hard to say; but at all events, she smiled sweetly upon the Chalmys the next time she met them.

A few days later, the steamer stopped at Dover and Mr. Ashby was delighted to have his wife and Ruth with him again.

They were several days out, when Mrs. Alexander realized that Count Chalmys was only an ordinary mortal! She thought over this revelation for a time, and finally remarked to Dodo and the others: “I am so glad the Count didn’t fall in love with Dodo. The little dear would never have been happy with him.”

“When did you discover that fact, Maggie?” asked her husband, quizzically.

“Why, a long time ago. I was so disgusted with folks who claim a title, and then turn out to be factory men like that Osgood family. And now this Count is nothing but a play-actor! Dodo will be far better off if she falls in love with a first-class American, say I!”

“Hurrah, Maggie! You’ve opened your eyes at last!” cried little Mr. Alexander.

“But you will be made still happier, Ma, to hear that I am in love, now!” declared Dodo, teasingly.

“What! Who is he?” demanded her mother.

“Ask Eleanor and Polly. They introduced me to my future lord,” giggled Dodo.

“Oh, she means her career, Mrs. Alex,” said Polly.

“Oh, Dodo!” wailed her mother. “You won’t go to work, will you, when your father’s worth a million dollars?”

“All the more reason for it! I’m going to marry a profession, just as Polly and Eleanor are, and we three are going to be the most famous decorators in the world.”

“And I am goin’ to build a swell mansion in New York and turn the contract for fixin’s, over to these three partners!” declared little Mr. Alexander.

That trip across the Atlantic was a merry one for the girls, for the “Marquis” and his friend, aided by the Count and the young Countess, were a never failing source of entertainment for all. They mimicked and acted, whenever occasion offered, so that there was no time for dull care or monotony.

While abroad, the Count had secured a small motion picture outfit; this was brought out and several amusing pictures made on the steamer. They were hastily developed and printed and shown at night, to the passengers. It proved to be very interesting to see one’s self on the screen, acting and looking so very differently than one imagines himself to act and look.

After the second attempt at this form of amusement, Polly made a suggestion.

“Wouldn’t it be heaps of fun if each one of us were to go away, alone, and write a chapter of a story for the Count to film. It will be a regular hodge-podge!”

“Oh, that’s great!” exclaimed Eleanor, eagerly.

The others seemed to think it would be entertaining, too, so the Count gave them a few important advices to note.

“Let us decide upon the characters, the plot, and the place, of the scenario; then each one write out a condensed chapter, or reel, of the play. Follow these directions. Write your story in continuity; leave out all adjectives, but give us action as expressed by verbs; do not write more than two hundred words in a reel, or chapter. If you find you have more than that in your part of the programme, you’ll have to cut it down. And let each one remember to keep her personal work a profound secret. That will insure a surprise when the whole picture is reeled off.

“Now, Miss Polly, you start the scenario, will you, and give us the first act, or reel. Then Miss Nolla will do the second act, or reel; Miss Ruth, the third; Miss Dodo, the fourth, Miss Fabian the fifth, and my wife can wind up the play, or picture, by writing the final reel. Any questions?”

“Who are the characters?” asked Polly, laughingly.

“Why, ourselves, of course. Because we must act in the photoplay, you see, in lieu of other performers. For instance, we will choose Miss Polly as the star lead, Janet Schuyler, in the play; Miss Nolla will be the vamp, Lois Miller, who is jealous of the lovely and prominent society girl; Miss Dodo will be the reporter, Miss Johnson, on a big daily paper who writes up the story for her paper; Miss Ruth can be the hard-working shop-girl, Esther Brown, who is made a scapegoat in the case. Miss Nancy could be the head of the department in the store, Miss Buskin, to whom the trouble is referred for adjustment; Alec will be the floor-walker and the Marquis can be the young man Reginald Deane – unless Miss Polly is too particular about her beaux.”

This brought forth a laugh at Polly’s expense.

“Mr. Ashby ought to make a good father for the society girl, and Mr. Alexander will make a good man to adjust the lighting apparatus. I will need the artistic help of Mr. Fabian in directing the scenes while I have charge of the camera. Now, any more questions, before you go away to start your writing?”

The Count was greatly interested in this plan for fun and, finding there were too many questions instantly poured out for him to answer, he made a suggestion.

“Each one go and do the best you can, then come to me if you find any snags too hard to remove from your literary pathway. I will have to go over each reel, anyway, when the whole is done.”

For the rest of that morning, no one saw nor heard of either of the young people, but at luncheon, there was such a babel of voices that Mr. Fabian rapped upon the table and called all to order.

“Hear, hear! The camera-man wishes to say a word!” laughed the Count.

There was instant silence.

“I have been handed three chapters of the scenario and I wish to say, if the other three are as good as the first ones, we will have a thriller. In the words of the publicity man, we shall produce a ‘gripping, heart-melting drama of unprecedented greatness and magnificence.’ For quintessence of perfection in pictures, this latest production of ours promises to ‘skin ’em’ all to the bone.’ Fellow-craftsmen! Go back to your work as soon as this bit of sustenance for the inner man is over, and dream of the success your pen is bound to win! – the glory and honor about to rest upon your noble brows for achieving such a great thing as the breathless, throbbing, soul-moving, passionate story of ‘Gladys the Shop-Girl’!”

The amateur play-wrights laughed merrily at their manager’s comment upon their dramatic work, but they lost no time in gossiping at the table, that noon. Before the dessert had been served, the girls excused themselves and ran back to their work.

That evening all efforts were in Count Chalmys’ hands and he was besieged for a report on the progress of the drama. He sent out word that he was to be left absolutely in peace for an hour and then he would appear with the hinged together chapters of a six-reel play.

After dinner, that night, a curious and impatient group of authors sat in one of the smaller saloons, watching the Count assemble the pages of the scenario. He had actually typed them on his folding typewriter and now came across the room, smiling encouragingly upon his company.

“Well, we haven’t such a tame play as everyone thought we would be sure to produce. All told, you will find the six reels fit in pretty good, one to the other, in continuity, but I shall have to exchange the chapters by Nolla and Dodo, as to priority. ‘Now listen, my children, and you shall hear’ etc. – you know the rest!” The Count laughed as he sat down.

“A-hem!” he cleared his throat as a starter. “The name of the play has been suggested by six writers, so I will have to have the title chosen by vote. A closed poll, probably, to avoid the usual fight in politics. First title:

“‘Life’s Thorny Road.’ This was submitted by Ruth Ashby.

“‘The Great Secret,’ is the second title, given by Nolla.

“‘His Easy Conquest,’ is third, submitted by Rose Chalmys.

“‘Her Friend’s Husband,’ is one suggested by Dodo Alexander.