refinement, but full of
interesting talk and cultured thought. He had a sad, handsome face, a
small wax-tipped moustache, a low voice and a listless manner, which was
relieved by a charming habit of suddenly lighting up into a rapid smile
and gleam when anything caught his fancy. An acquired cynicism was
eternally crushing and overlying his natural youthful enthusiasms, and
he ignored what was obvious while expressing keen appreciation for what
seemed to the average man to be either trivial or unhealthy. He chose
Walter Pater for his travelling author, and sat all day, reserved but
affable, under the awning, with his novel and his sketch-book upon a
camp-stool beside him. His personal dignity prevented him from making
advances to others, but if they chose to address him they found a
courteous and amiable companion.
The Americans formed a group by themselves. John H. Headingly was a
New Englander, a graduate of Harvard, who was completing his education
by a tour round the world. He stood for the best type of young
American--quick, observant, serious, eager for knowledge and fairly
free from prejudice, with a fine balance of unsectarian but earnest
religious feeling which held him steady amid all the sudden gusts of
youth. He had less of the appearance and more of the reality of culture
than the young Oxford diplomatist, for he had keener emotions though
less exact knowledge. Miss Adams and Miss Sadie Adams were aunt and
niece, the former a little, energetic, hard-featured Bostonian old-maid,
with a huge surplus of unused love behind her stern and swarthy
features. She had never been from home before, and she was now busy
upon the self-imposed task of bringing the East up to the standard of
Massachusetts. She had hardly landed in Egypt before she realised that
the country needed putting to rights, and since the conviction struck
her she had been very fully occupied. The saddle-galled donkeys, the
starved pariah dogs, the flies round the eyes of the babies, the naked
children, the importunate beggars, the ragged, untidy women--they were
all challenges to her conscience, and she plunged in bravely at her work
of reformation. As she could not speak a word of the language, however,
and was unable to make any of the delinquents understand what it was
that she wanted, her passage up the Nile left the immemorial East very
much as she had found it, but afforded a good deal of sympathetic
amusement to her fellow-trave
|