CHAPTER XXV

ON BOARD A YACHT

With the heartiest consent I could give, and a blank cheque, my father returned to England to hire forthwith a commodious yacht, fitted and manned.  Before going he discoursed of prudence in our expenditure; though not for the sake of the mere money in hand, which was a trifle, barely more than the half of my future income; but that the squire, should he by and by bethink him of inspecting our affairs, might perceive we were not spendthrifts.

‘I promised you a surprise, Richie,’ said he, ’and you have had it; whether at all equal to your expectations is for you to determine.  I was aware of the margravine’s intention to bring the princess to these sea-sands; they are famous on the Continent.  It was bruited last Winter and Spring that she would be here in the season for bathing; so I held it likely we should meet.  We have, you behold.  In point of fact, we owe the good margravine some show of hospitality.  The princess has a passion for tossing on the sea.  To her a yacht is a thing dropped from the moon.  His Highness the prince her father could as soon present her with one as with the moon itself.  The illustrious Serenity’s revenue is absorbed, my boy, in the state he has to support.  As for his daughter’s dowry, the young gentleman who anticipates getting one with her, I commend to the practise of his whistling.  It will be among the sums you may count, if you are a moderate arithmetician, in groschen.  The margravine’s income I should reckon to approach twenty thousand per annum, and she proves her honourable sense that she holds it in trust for others by dispersing it rapidly.  I fear she loves cards.  So, then, I shall go and hire the yacht through Dettermain and Newson, furnish it with piano and swing-cot, etc.; and if the ladies shrink from a cruise they can have an occasional sail.  Here are we at their service.  I shall be seriously baffled by fortune if I am not back to you at the end of a week.  You will take your early morning walk, I presume.  On Sunday see that our chaplain, the excellent Mr. Peterborough, officiates for the assembled Protestants of all nations.  It excites our English enthusiasm.  In addition, son Richie, it is peculiarly our duty.  I, at least, hold the view that it is a family duty.  Think it over, Richie boy.  Providence, you see, has sent us the man.  As for me, I feel as if I were in the dawn of one life with all the mature experience of another.  I am calm, I am perfectly unexcited, and I tell you, old son, I believe—­pick among the highest—­our destinies are about the most brilliant of any couple in Great Britain.’