Among the Antiques - An Adventure of Afternoon Tea - Stephen Leacock



A maid opened the door. But Mrs. DeCarteret came flying down from upstairs in that impulsive way she has. 'Now that's so nice of you to come,' she said. 'Let me take your coat and hat. Never mind, Milly...You see, I don't put them on the hat-rack; we have pegs for them over here. But you must look at the hat-rack before you go up. Isn't it just a darling?'
'I suppose--' I began.
'Yes,' she answered, 'it's one of the things we got in Italy. It's a genuine Amain, you can tell it by the worm-eaten wood; of course it would fall to pieces at a touch. They guaranteed it would. But do come along upstairs to the den. I'm so glad to have got you here at last; you've been so naughty about coming...But, if you don't mind, just lift your feet a little higher as you step over the rug--'
'Is that--' I asked.
'Yes,' said Mrs. DeCarteret, 'it's a Louis Trieze. How did you know? But then, of course, you know antiques. It's too old of course to step on. We picked it up, just ran into it by chance in France, at Ouen, in the Dordogne, just this side of Quon. Do you know Ouen?'
'As far as I--' I began.
'Oh, you ought to go there,' said Mrs. DeCarteret. 'Now do come up and we'll have tea. James will be home in a minute, because he knows you're coming. But before we go up, do just look at this clock on the landing.'
'Is that--' I asked.
'No, that's Dutch. It's an Artemus Yoops. Do you know his work at all?'
'I don't believe--' I began.
'James and I think that there is nothing like a Yoops. So of course when in Holland we kept looking all the time for a genuine Yoops, and at last we ran into this one--in the quaintest little shop, in Obersloopendam. Do you know Obersloopendam, at all?'
'No,' I said, 'I've never--'
'But you really should go there. Now this clock, you can see--I mean a connoisseur can see--is an Artemus Yoops, because you can see his name scratched on the case. The A is quite plain, isn't it? It has only one hand, that's another mark of its being genuine. I get so amused sometimes when people--people who don't know, ask if it keeps good time! Of course its works were removed long ago; that was one reason for the high price. But now come along into our den! James and I call it our treasure house.'
The 'den' of the DeCarteret's is a room spacious enough for Daniel and all his lions. All round it and in it and through it are 'treasures'--on four legs, three legs or two legs, or leaning or resting. None are for use. On the mantel are two Grecian ash trays, Phrygian, not for ashes. There is a Sevres china tea set, not for tea; chairs not to sit on; and glasses not to drink from.
Mrs. DeCarteret sat down beside the tea things, the real ones, and asked, 'One lump or two,' and I said, 'Two,' and she said she was so glad to have me there because she did so enjoy clever conversation.
I said, 'Don't you think--'
But Mrs. DeCarteret was already talking about the Sevres teapot; and after that about the little statuettes from Athens; and after that about the spinning wheel from Britany; and after that she was just beginning about the Boticelli miniatures from Italy, when DeCarteret came in.
'Ah, here's James!' she said. 'James can tell you all about these. We got them in Italy. We got such lovely things in Italy. Of course there is really nowhere like Italy. We got that in Milano. Do you know Milano?'
'No,' I said, 'I've never--'
'Oh, you really ought to go there! That particular miniature was one of the things that had belonged to the Sforza family. They're one of the old Italian families, of the old nobility of the Church. We met Prince Sforza, the present one. Do you know him?'
'No,' I said, 'I don't think I ever--'
'Oh, you ought to meet him--such a charming man. He has such a wonderful Palazzo in Milano, right near the Duomo--wasn't it, James?'
'Yes, just between the Duomo and the Corso, in fact right on the Via del Sploggio itself--'
'Such a dilapidated old place,' interjected Mrs. DeCarteret, 'and yet so perfect.'
'Of course,' DeCarteret went on, 'they're all terribly hard up in a way, the Italian nobility. When we met Prince Sforza, he was wearing just a plain gun-metal watch--showed it quite openly--said it was all he could afford--said it quite simply, just like that. So I thought it over,' continued DeCarteret, 'and I sent away to Paris and got the most beautiful gold watch that could be bought. I was terribly afraid, of course, of hurting Prince Sforza's feelings.'
'Did he take it?' I asked.
'At first not; he hesitated quite a time; insisted that I must take it away; he said he had no chain fit to wear with it.'
'And so--'
'So I didn't say a word. I took it away and came back next day with the watch and a gold chain.'
'And the Prince took it?'
'He did. He said that now he couldn't refuse--such considerazione, he said; that's the word he used. Italian is such a beautiful language, isn't it? You can hardly say it in English. No, the Prince said he could have wished he had a proper jewel box to lock up the watch and chain at night, but that be must take a chance on that.'
'And so you--'
'So we got a lovely jewel box, and this time we took no chance on a refusal, just shoved the box into the pocket of the Prince's dinner-jacket when we dined with him at the Restoranto del Re--that is, he was dining with us, but he showed us where it was.'
'And he was so charming afterwards,' Mrs. DeCarteret broke in. 'He introduced us to quite a lot of the nobility, particularly to his cousin, dear old Cardinal Paulzi--have you met him?'
'I am afraid--' I began.
'Oh, you really ought to; just the dearest old man, so frail, but as I said to James, he seemed to me the very picture of apostolic sweetness; so unwordly, like a child. He showed us his rings, and he admitted, dear old man, that they are his one worldliness. "If I only had a diamond," he said, "but I suppose I never shall." So what do you think we did? We went right away and that very same day brought back the most beautiful diamond!'
'And did he take it?'
'Take it? Why, of course, he was just like a child over it, just overjoyed! "Oh!" he kept saying, "how beautiful!--and if I only had an emerald to go with it."
'So you--'
'So we got him an emerald ring. I wish you could have seen him, the poor old man--he quite broke down. Great tears rolled down his face. He could hardly speak. He just whispered when we were leaving him, "If I only had a sapphire!"'
'Did you give him one?'
'Later, we sent one to him, when we could get one. They're not easy to find. So we sent it later on to him, sent it by Count Chiaro Chianti, a most delightful man, so soldierly, in fact an aide-de-camp to the king--'
'No, dear,' interrupted DeCarteret, 'that wasn't Count Chianti; that was Count Fosco di Bosco--'
'No, James,' said Mrs. DeCarteret. 'I mean the one we gave the fur coat to--'
'That wasn't the fur coat,' said DeCarteret. 'We gave Chiaro Chianti a rifle--or was he the one in the navy that we gave the rubber boots to?'
'I'm afraid I get them mixed,' said Mrs. DeCarteret, with a resigned sigh, 'but they were really so charming, the Italians, I mean those of the old class with the high traditions. Such a pity we have so few people like them...What, are you getting up to go? I'm so sorry. It's so rare that one can enjoy worthwhile conversation. Won't you have some more tea?'
'No, thank you!' I said.
Then Mrs. DeCarteret remembered something. 'Oh, James,' she said, 'I'm so sorry. I forgot to offer you any tea. Won't you have a cup?'
'No, thanks,' said DeCarteret, 'really not. I'm going to have a Scotch and soda in a minute.'
He meant when I was gone. It was hard to bear. But the Italian nobility have nothing on me.
'Good-bye,' I said.