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Kidder, of Colorado, and her party. Isn't it so, Barrymore?" "Yes," replied Terry stoutly. And that "yes" even if inadvertent, was equivalent I considered, to sign and seal. Mrs. Kidder beamed like an understudy for The Riviera Sun. Beechy twinkled demurely, and tossed her plaits over her shoulder. Even Miss Destrey, the white goddess, deigned to smile, straight at Terry and no other.
Beechy isn't very sick. She'll be well to-morrow, and when they find we're gone, which they can't till late this afternoon, they won't waste time motoring down; they'll take a ship which leaves Ragusa in the morning for Cattaro. The Prince says they're sure to. We'll all meet by to-morrow noon, and meanwhile I guess there's nothing for us to do but make the best of the joke they've played on us.
The reason is simply the great experience necessary to produce these machines, which seem so very simple; but to the inexperienced inventor the subject fairly bristles with pitfalls. I have here sections of some of the earlier engines, including Dr. Siemens' and Messrs. Simon and Beechy. Although interesting and containing many good points, these have not been practically successful.
I asked the Countess, but she was evilly fascinated by a dog which seemed bent on committing suicide under our car, and it was Beechy who answered. "We've never been anywhere before, any of us," she said. "Mamma and I only had our machinery set running a few months ago, but now we are wound up, goodness knows how far we'll get. As for Maida she's no mechanical doll like us.
Aren't all your girls brought up to expect to be duchesses, and your men presidents?" "I wasn't," snapped Beechy. "If there was a duke anywhere around, Mamma would take him, if she had to snatch him out of my mouth. What are English girls brought up to expect?" "Hope for, not expect," I corrected her. "Any leavings there are in the way of marquesses or earls; or if none, a mere bishop or a C. B."
Should the work go on, a part of this vast sea will yet be converted into a continent; and, who knows but a railroad may yet run across that portion of our globe, connecting America with the old world? I see that Captain Beechy, in his voyage, speaks of a wreck that occurred in 1792, on a reef, where, in 1826, he found an island near three leagues long, bearing tall trees.
"Never since Anne Boleyn has a woman so lost her head over a man with a title as Mamma over Prince Dalmar-Kalm," said Beechy, after our week at Venice was half spent. And I wished that, in fair exchange, he would lose his over Aunt Kathryn instead of wasting time on me, and casting his shadow on beautiful days. Roses and lilies appeared on my writing-desk; they were from him.
"Ah, you have misunderstood him. A wilful fool must have his way; that was what he thought of your gentleman chauffeur, no doubt. This will give the self-willed young man an excuse to take the boat to Cattaro to-morrow. It will not be serious for Miss Beechy. You can wire, and get her answer that Signorina Bari is playing nurse and chaperon very nicely."
"He is my late husband's cousin," explained Mrs. Kidder, "and he takes liberties sometimes, as he thinks Simon would not have approved of everything I do. But you needn't tell everything, Beechy." "Let's talk about Venice," said Miss Destrey with a lovely smile, which seemed all the more admirable as she had given us so few. "I have always longed to see Venice."
The formula is as follows, for which the world is indebted to Canon Beechy: In 8 ounces of absolute alcohol dissolve 5 drachms of anhydrous bromide of cadmium. The solution will be milky. Let it stand at least twenty-four hours, or until perfectly clear; it will deposit a white powder. Decant carefully into an 8-ounce bottle, and add to it a drachm of strong hydrochloric acid.
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