The Smile of the Stranger Read Online Free Page A

journals for whom he sometimes wrote articles or did translation, tradespeople from whom they purchased supplies, and the officials at the Envoy ’ s residence who were also glad sometimes to avail themselves of Mr. Elphinstone ’ s services as a translator. If her father were to die, thought Juliana, she would hardly know to whom she might turn; and so far as she knew, she had no other relations. She had been vaguely aware that their way of life—solitary, peaceful, hard-working—was somewhat unusual, but she knew no other.
    “Papa?” she ventured as, in the fresh autumn evening, they sat on deck wrapped in capes and watched the sea turn from turquoise to a wonderful shade of amethyst, while the sky ’ s sharp blue faded to a transparent green. “Papa, may I ask you some questions?”
    She felt, rather than heard, the deep sigh with which he received her words. But after a pause he replied in a melancholy tone,
    “Of course you may ask questions, my dearest child. Believe me, I am fully aware of the self-restraint which has kept you from doing so hitherto. But it is time, alas, that you were informed, at least of such among our circumstances as are fit for your ears ... How old are you now, Juliana?”
    “Papa! What a question to ask your o w n daughter! I shall be eighteen on John the Baptist ’ s Day.”
    “Eighteen ... to be sure, that is not very old. Yet you are a sensible child. And—it is as well that you should be informed as to our plans. Ask, then, what you wish, my child.”
    At this permission, questions jostled together in Juliana ’ s mind. She asked the simplest first.
    “Where are we going to in England?”
    “We are going to a house called Flintwood Manor, in the county of Hampshire.”
    “That is in the south of England, is it not?” Juliana inquired, after consulting a mental map.
    “Yes, it is in a region known as the New Forest—though the forest has not been new for some five hundred years. We shall hope to take ship across the Channel to the port of Southampton, from where it is quite a short journey to Flintwood.”
    “You think that even in time of war ships will still be crossing the Channel to England?”
    “Oh, I daresay there will always be privateers and freebooters,” her father replied dryly. “At a price, doubtless a passage can be found. In my young days I know there was plenty of wool going out, and brandy coming in; I imagine it will still be found to be so.”
    “England!” said Juliana musingly. “I have imagined going there for so long! I have wondered so much what it was like, and wished to see London; especially Whitehall, where poor King Charles lived. Whitehall is such a beautiful name; I picture it all built in gleaming white marble, with orange trees and fountains.”
    “Do not get your hopes up too high,” replied her father in a rather quelling manner. “It is not precisely like that; however, you will see it for yourself in due course, doubtless, and will be able to form your own opinions.”
    “Why are we going to this Flintwood, Papa? Who lives there?”
    “Your grandfather, Juliana.”
    “My grandfather,” she said wonderingly. “I did not know that I had one! He is your father, then, Papa?”
    “My father, yes.” His tone was far from enthusiastic.
    “What is his name?”
    “He is called General Sir Horace Tullesley Paget.”
    “Paget? Then why is our name Elphinstone?”
    “Paget is our real name, Juliana. Elphinstone is the name under which I chose to write my books. I assumed it for—for various reasons.”
    “And why have you never spoken of my grandfather before?”
    “Because we quarreled, my dear. We have not seen each other in a great many years—since before you were bo rn .”
    “What was the cause of your quarrel?”
    “There were various causes. First, he disapproved of my choice of profession. He wished me to purchase a commission in his regiment—as he had done, and his father, and all my uncles but one. My father