Chapter 8 - Page 2

Sometimes it has
been a valued friendship, a delightful social tie."

"Here comes the 'European society,' the poor daughter's bugbear," I
said to myself. "Certainly," I remarked aloud--I admit, rather
perversely--"if you have lived a great deal in pensions, you must
have got acquainted with lots of people."

Mrs. Church dropped her eyes a moment; and then, with considerable
gravity, "I think the European pension system in many respects
remarkable, and in some satisfactory. But of the friendships that we
have formed, few have been contracted in establishments of this
kind."

"I am sorry to hear that!" I said, laughing.

"I don't say it for you, though I might say it for some others. We
have been interested in European homes."

"Oh, I see!"

"We have the entree of the old Genevese society I like its tone. I
prefer it to that of Mr. Ruck," added Mrs. Church, calmly; "to that
of Mrs. Ruck and Miss Ruck--of Miss Ruck especially."

"Ah, the poor Rucks haven't any tone at all," I said "Don't take them
more seriously than they take themselves."

"Tell me this," my companion rejoined, "are they fair examples?"

"Examples of what?"

"Of our American tendencies."

"'Tendencies' is a big word, dear lady; tendencies are difficult to
calculate. And you shouldn't abuse those good Rucks, who have been
very kind to your daughter. They have invited her to go and stay
with them in Thirty-Seventh Street."

"Aurora has told me. It might be very serious."

"It might be very droll," I said.

"To me," declared Mrs. Church, "it is simply terrible. I think we
shall have to leave the Pension Beaurepas. I shall go back to Madame
Chamousset."

"On account of the Rucks?" I asked.

"Pray, why don't they go themselves? I have given them some
excellent addresses--written down the very hours of the trains. They
were going to Appenzell; I thought it was arranged."

"They talk of Chamouni now," I said; "but they are very helpless and
undecided."

"I will give them some Chamouni addresses. Mrs. Ruck will send a
chaise a porteurs; I will give her the name of a man who lets them
lower than you get them at the hotels. After that they MUST go."

"Well, I doubt," I observed, "whether Mr. Ruck will ever really be
seen on the Mer de Glace--in a high hat. He's not like you; he
doesn't value his European privileges. He takes no interest. He
regrets Wall Street, acutely. As his wife says, he is very