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His Own People
by Booth Tarkington
I。 A Change of Lodging
The glass…domed 〃palm…room〃 of the Grand Continental Hotel Magnifique
in Rome is of vasty heights and distances； filled with a mellow green
light which filters down languidly through the upper foliage of tall
palms； so that the two hundred people who may be refreshing or
displaying themselves there at the tea…hour have something the look
of under…water creatures playing upon the sea…bed。 They appear；
however； to be unaware of their condition； even the ladies； most like
anemones of that gay assembly； do not seem to know it； and when the
Hungarian band （crustacean…like in costume； and therefore well
within the picture） has sheathed its flying tentacles and withdrawn
by dim processes； the tea…drinkers all float out through the doors；
instead of bubbling up and away through the filmy roof。 In truth；
some such exit as that was imagined for them by a young man who
remained in the aquarium after they had all gone； late one afternoon
of last winter。 They had been marvelous enough； and to him could have
seemed little more so had they made such a departure。 He could
almost have gone that way himself； so charged was he with the uplift
of his belief that； in spite of the brilliant strangeness of the
hour just past； he had been no fish out of water。
While the waiters were clearing the little tables； he leaned back in
his chair in a content so rich it was nearer ecstasy。 He could not
bear to disturb the possession joy had taken of him； and； like a
half…awake boy clinging to a dream that his hitherto unkind sweetheart
has kissed him； lingered on in the enchanted atmosphere； his eyes
still full of all they had beheld with such delight； detaining and
smiling upon each revelation of this fresh memory？the flashingly
lovely faces； the dreamily lovely faces； the pearls and laces of the
anemone ladies； the color and romantic fashion of the uniforms； and
the old princes who had been pointed out to him： splendid old men
wearing white mustaches and single eye…glasses； as he had so long
hoped and dreamed they did。
〃Mine own people！〃 he whispered。 〃I have come unto mine own at last。
Mine own people！〃 After long waiting （he told himself）； he had seen
themthe people he had wanted to see； wanted to know； wanted to be
~of！~ Ever since he had begun to read of the 〃beau monde〃 in his
schooldays； he had yearned to know some such sumptuous reality as
that which had come true to…day； when； at last； in Rome he had seen
as he wrote home that night〃the finest essence of Old…World
society mingling in Cosmopolis。〃
Artificial odors （too heavy to keep up with the crowd that had worn
them） still hung about him； he breathed them deeply； his eyes half…
closed and his lips noiselessly formed themselves to a quotation from
one of his own poems：
While trails of scent； like cobweb's films
Slender and faint and rare；
Of roses； and rich； fair fabrics；
Cling on the stirless air；
The sibilance of voices；
At a wave of Milady's glove；
Is stilled
He stopped short； interrupting himself with a half…cough of laughter
as he remembered the inspiration of these verses。 He had written
them three months ago； at home in Cranston； Ohio； the evening after
Anna McCord's 〃coming…out tea。〃 〃Milady〃 meant Mrs。 McCord； she had
〃stilled〃 the conversation of her guests when Mary Kramer （whom the
poem called a 〃sweet； pale singer〃） rose to sing Mavourneen； and the
stanza closed with the right word to rhyme with 〃glove。〃 He felt a
contemptuous pity for his little； untraveled； provincial self of
three months ago； if； indeed； it could have been himself who wrote
verses about Anna McCord's 〃coming…out tea〃 and referred to poor；
good old Mrs。 McCord as 〃Milady〃！
The second stanza had intimated a conviction of a kind which only
poets may reveal：
She sang to that great assembly；
They thought； as they praised her tone；
But she and my heart knew better：
Her song was for me alone。
He had told the truth when he wrote of Mary Kramer as pale and sweet；
and she was paler； but no less sweet； when he came to say good…by to
her before he sailed。 Her face； as it was at the final moment of the
protracted farewell； shone before him very clearly now for a moment：
young； plaintive； white； too lamentably honest to conceal how much
her 〃God…speed〃 to him cost her。 He came very near telling her how
fond of her he had always been； came near giving up his great trip
to remain with her always。
〃Ah！〃 He shivered as one shivers at the thought of disaster narrowly
averted。 〃The fates were good that I only came near it！〃
He took from his breast…pocket an engraved card； without having to
search for it； because during the few days the card had been in his
possession the action had become a habit。
〃Comtesse de Vaurigard；〃 was the name engraved； and below was written
in pencil： 〃To remember Monsieur Robert Russ Mellin he promise to
come to tea Hotel Magnifique； Roma； at five o'clock Thursday。〃
There had been disappointment in the first stages of his journey；
and that had gone hard with Mellin。 Europe had been his goal so
long； and his hopes of pleasure grew so high when （after his years
of saving and putting by； bit by bit； out of his salary in a real…
estate office） he drew actually near the shining horizon。 But
London； his first stopping…place； had given him some dreadful days。
He knew nobody； and had not understood how heavily sheer loneliness
which was something he had never felt until thenwould weigh upon
his spirits。 In Cranston； where the young people 〃grew up together；〃
and where he met a dozen friends on the street in a half…hour's walk；
he often said that he 〃liked to be alone with himself。〃 London；
after his first excitement in merely being there； taught him his
mistake； chilled him with weeks of forbidding weather； puzzled and
troubled him。
He was on his way to Paris when （as he recorded in his journal） a
light came into his life。 This illumination first shone for him by
means of one Cooley； son and inheritor of all that had belonged to
the late great Cooley； of Cooley Mills； Connecticut。 Young Cooley；
a person of cheery manners and bright waistcoats； was one of
Mellin's few sea…acquaintances； they had played shuffleboard
together on the steamer during odd half…hours when Mr。 Cooley found
it possible to absent himself from poker in the smoking…room； and
they encountered each other again on the channel boat crossing to
Calais。
~〃Hey！〃~ was Mr。 Cooley's lively greeting。 〃I'm meetin' lots of
people I know to…day。 You runnin' over to Paris； too？ Come up to
the boat…deck and meet the Countess de Vaurigard。〃
〃Who？〃 said Mellin； red with pleasure； yet fearing that he did not
hear aright。
〃The Countess de Vaurigard。 Queen！ met her in London。 Sneyd
introduced me to her。 You remember Sneyd on the steamer？ Baldish
Englishmanred nosedoesn't talk muchyounger brother of Lord
Rugden； so he says。 Played poker some。 Well； ~yes！~〃
〃I saw him。 I didn't meet him。〃
〃You didn't miss a whole lot。 Fact is； before we landed I almost
had him sized up for queer； but when he introduced me to the
Countess I saw my mistake。 He must be the real thing。 ~She~
certainly is！ You come along up and see。〃
So Mellin followed； to make his bow before a thin； dark； charmingly
pretty young woman； who smiled up at him from her deck…chair through
an enhancing mystery of veils； and presently he found himself sitting
beside her。 He could not help trembling slightly at first； but he
would have giving a great deal if； by some miraculous vision； Mary
Kramer and other friends of his in Cranston could have seen him
engaged in what he thought of as 〃conversational badinage〃 with the
Comtesse de Vaurigard。
Both the lady and her name thrilled him。 He thought he remembered
the latter in Froissart： it conjured up 〃baronial halls〃 and
〃donjon keeps；〃 rang resonantly in his mind like 〃Let the portcullis
fall！〃 At home he had been wont to speak of the 〃oldest families in
Cranston；〃 complaining of the invasions of 〃new people〃 into the
social territory of the McCords and Mellins and Kramersa pleasant
conception which the presence of a De Vaurigard revealed to him as
a petty and shameful fiction； and yet his humility； like his little
fit of trembling； was of short duration； for gay geniality of Madame
de Vaurigard put him amazingly at ease。
At Calais young Cooley （with a matter…of…course air； and not
seeming to feel the need of asking permission） accompanied her to a
compartment； and Mellin walked with them to the steps of the coach；
where he paused； murmuring some words of farewell。
Madame de Vaurigard turned to him with a prettily assumed dismay。
〃What！ You stay at Calais？〃 she cried； pausing with one foot on the
step to ascend。 〃Oh！ I am sorry for you。 Calais is ter…rible！〃
〃No。 I am going on to Paris。〃
〃So？ You have frien's in another coach which you wish to be wiz？〃
〃No； no； indeed；〃 he stammered hastily。
〃Well； my frien'；〃 she laughed gayly； 〃w'y don' you come wiz us？〃
Blushing； he followed Cooley into the coach； to spend five happy