His　Own　People
  by　Booth　Tarkington
  I。　A　Change　of　Lodging
  The　glass…domed　〃palm…room〃　of　the　Grand　Continental　Hotel　Magnifique
  in　Rome　is　of　vasty　heights　and　distances；　filled　with　a　mellow　green
  light　which　filters　down　languidly　through　the　upper　foliage　of　tall
  palms；　so　that　the　two　hundred　people　who　may　be　refreshing　or
  displaying　themselves　there　at　the　tea…hour　have　something　the　look
  of　under…water　creatures　playing　upon　the　sea…bed。　　They　appear；
  however；　to　be　unaware　of　their　condition；　even　the　ladies；　most　like
  anemones　of　that　gay　assembly；　do　not　seem　to　know　it；　and　when　the
  Hungarian　band　　（crustacean…like　in　costume；　and　therefore　well
  within　the　picture）　has　sheathed　its　flying　tentacles　and　withdrawn
  by　dim　processes；　the　tea…drinkers　all　float　out　through　the　doors；
  instead　of　bubbling　up　and　away　through　the　filmy　roof。　　In　truth；
  some　such　exit　as　that　was　imagined　for　them　by　a　young　man　who
  remained　in　the　aquarium　after　they　had　all　gone；　late　one　afternoon
  of　last　winter。　They　had　been　marvelous　enough；　and　to　him　could　have
  seemed　little　more　so　had　they　made　such　a　departure。　　He　could
  almost　have　gone　that　way　himself；　so　charged　was　he　with　the　uplift
  of　his　belief　that；　in　spite　of　the　brilliant　strangeness　of　the
  hour　just　past；　he　had　been　no　fish　out　of　water。
  While　the　waiters　were　clearing　the　little　tables；　he　leaned　back　in
  his　chair　in　a　content　so　rich　it　was　nearer　ecstasy。　　He　could　not
  bear　to　disturb　the　possession　joy　had　taken　of　him；　and；　like　a
  half…awake　boy　clinging　to　a　dream　that　his　hitherto　unkind　sweetheart
  has　kissed　him；　lingered　on　in　the　enchanted　atmosphere；　his　eyes
  still　full　of　all　they　had　beheld　with　such　delight；　detaining　and
  smiling　upon　each　revelation　of　this　fresh　memory？the　flashingly
  lovely　faces；　the　dreamily　lovely　faces；　the　pearls　and　laces　of　the
  anemone　ladies；　the　color　and　romantic　fashion　of　the　uniforms；　and
  the　old　princes　who　had　been　pointed　out　to　him：　splendid　old　men
  wearing　white　mustaches　and　single　eye…glasses；　as　he　had　so　long
  hoped　and　dreamed　they　did。
  〃Mine　own　people！〃　he　whispered。　　〃I　have　come　unto　mine　own　at　last。
  Mine　own　people！〃　　After　long　waiting　（he　told　himself）；　he　had　seen
  themthe　people　he　had　wanted　to　see；　wanted　to　know；　wanted　to　be
  ~of！~　　Ever　since　he　had　begun　to　read　of　the　〃beau　monde〃　in　his
  schooldays；　he　had　yearned　to　know　some　such　sumptuous　reality　as
  that　which　had　come　true　to…day；　when；　at　last；　in　Rome　he　had　seen
  as　he　wrote　home　that　night〃the　finest　essence　of　Old…World
  society　mingling　in　Cosmopolis。〃
  Artificial　odors　（too　heavy　to　keep　up　with　the　crowd　that　had　worn
  them）　still　hung　about　him；　he　breathed　them　deeply；　his　eyes　half…
  closed　and　his　lips　noiselessly　formed　themselves　to　a　quotation　from
  one　of　his　own　poems：
  While　trails　of　scent；　like　cobweb's　films
  Slender　and　faint　and　rare；
  Of　roses；　and　rich；　fair　fabrics；
  Cling　on　the　stirless　air；
  The　sibilance　of　voices；
  At　a　wave　of　Milady's　glove；
  Is　stilled
  He　stopped　short；　interrupting　himself　with　a　half…cough　of　laughter
  as　he　remembered　the　inspiration　of　these　verses。　　He　had　written
  them　three　months　ago；　at　home　in　Cranston；　Ohio；　the　evening　after
  Anna　McCord's　〃coming…out　tea。〃　　〃Milady〃　meant　Mrs。　McCord；　she　had
  〃stilled〃　the　conversation　of　her　guests　when　Mary　Kramer　（whom　the
  poem　called　a　〃sweet；　pale　singer〃）　rose　to　sing　Mavourneen；　and　the
  stanza　closed　with　the　right　word　to　rhyme　with　〃glove。〃　　He　felt　a
  contemptuous　pity　for　his　little；　untraveled；　provincial　self　of
  three　months　ago；　if；　indeed；　it　could　have　been　himself　who　wrote
  verses　about　Anna　McCord's　〃coming…out　tea〃　and　referred　to　poor；
  good　old　Mrs。　McCord　as　〃Milady〃！
  The　second　stanza　had　intimated　a　conviction　of　a　kind　which　only
  poets　may　reveal：
  She　sang　to　that　great　assembly；
  They　thought；　as　they　praised　her　tone；
  But　she　and　my　heart　knew　better：
  Her　song　was　for　me　alone。
  He　had　told　the　truth　when　he　wrote　of　Mary　Kramer　as　pale　and　sweet；
  and　she　was　paler；　but　no　less　sweet；　when　he　came　to　say　good…by　to
  her　before　he　sailed。　　Her　face；　as　it　was　at　the　final　moment　of　the
  protracted　farewell；　shone　before　him　very　clearly　now　for　a　moment：
  young；　plaintive；　white；　too　lamentably　honest　to　conceal　how　much
  her　〃God…speed〃　to　him　cost　her。　　He　came　very　near　telling　her　how
  fond　of　her　he　had　always　been；　came　near　giving　up　his　great　trip
  to　remain　with　her　always。
  〃Ah！〃　　He　shivered　as　one　shivers　at　the　thought　of　disaster　narrowly
  averted。　　〃The　fates　were　good　that　I　only　came　near　it！〃
  He　took　from　his　breast…pocket　an　engraved　card；　without　having　to
  search　for　it；　because　during　the　few　days　the　card　had　been　in　his
  possession　the　action　had　become　a　habit。
  〃Comtesse　de　Vaurigard；〃　was　the　name　engraved；　and　below　was　written
  in　pencil：　　〃To　remember　Monsieur　Robert　Russ　Mellin　he　promise　to
  come　to　tea　Hotel　Magnifique；　Roma；　at　five　o'clock　Thursday。〃
  There　had　been　disappointment　in　the　first　stages　of　his　journey；
  and　that　had　gone　hard　with　Mellin。　　Europe　had　been　his　goal　so
  long；　and　his　hopes　of　pleasure　grew　so　high　when　（after　his　years
  of　saving　and　putting　by；　bit　by　bit；　out　of　his　salary　in　a　real…
  estate　office）　he　drew　actually　near　the　shining　horizon。　　But
  London；　his　first　stopping…place；　had　given　him　some　dreadful　days。
  He　knew　nobody；　and　had　not　understood　how　heavily　sheer　loneliness
  which　was　something　he　had　never　felt　until　thenwould　weigh　upon
  his　spirits。　　In　Cranston；　where　the　young　people　〃grew　up　together；〃
  and　where　he　met　a　dozen　friends　on　the　street　in　a　half…hour's　walk；
  he　often　said　that　he　〃liked　to　be　alone　with　himself。〃　　London；
  after　his　first　excitement　in　merely　being　there；　taught　him　his
  mistake；　chilled　him　with　weeks　of　forbidding　weather；　puzzled　and
  troubled　him。
  He　was　on　his　way　to　Paris　when　（as　he　recorded　in　his　journal）　a
  light　came　into　his　life。　　This　illumination　first　shone　for　him　by
  means　of　one　Cooley；　son　and　inheritor　of　all　that　had　belonged　to
  the　late　great　Cooley；　of　Cooley　Mills；　Connecticut。　　Young　Cooley；
  a　person　of　cheery　manners　and　bright　waistcoats；　was　one　of
  Mellin's　few　sea…acquaintances；　they　had　played　shuffleboard
  together　on　the　steamer　during　odd　half…hours　when　Mr。　Cooley　found
  it　possible　to　absent　himself　from　poker　in　the　smoking…room；　and
  they　encountered　each　other　again　on　the　channel　boat　crossing　to
  Calais。
  ~〃Hey！〃~　was　Mr。　Cooley's　lively　greeting。　　〃I'm　meetin'　lots　of
  people　I　know　to…day。　　You　runnin'　over　to　Paris；　too？　　Come　up　to
  the　boat…deck　and　meet　the　Countess　de　Vaurigard。〃
  〃Who？〃　said　Mellin；　red　with　pleasure；　yet　fearing　that　he　did　not
  hear　aright。
  〃The　Countess　de　Vaurigard。　　Queen！　met　her　in　London。　　Sneyd
  introduced　me　to　her。　　You　remember　Sneyd　on　the　steamer？　　Baldish
  Englishmanred　nosedoesn't　talk　muchyounger　brother　of　Lord
  Rugden；　so　he　says。　　Played　poker　some。　　Well；　~yes！~〃
  〃I　saw　him。　　I　didn't　meet　him。〃
  〃You　didn't　miss　a　whole　lot。　　Fact　is；　before　we　landed　I　almost
  had　him　sized　up　for　queer；　but　when　he　introduced　me　to　the
  Countess　I　saw　my　mistake。　　He　must　be　the　real　thing。　　~She~
  certainly　is！　　You　come　along　up　and　see。〃
  So　Mellin　followed；　to　make　his　bow　before　a　thin；　dark；　charmingly
  pretty　young　woman；　who　smiled　up　at　him　from　her　deck…chair　through
  an　enhancing　mystery　of　veils；　and　presently　he　found　himself　sitting
  beside　her。　　He　could　not　help　trembling　slightly　at　first；　but　he
  would　have　giving　a　great　deal　if；　by　some　miraculous　vision；　Mary
  Kramer　and　other　friends　of　his　in　Cranston　could　have　seen　him
  engaged　in　what　he　thought　of　as　〃conversational　badinage〃　with　the
  Comtesse　de　Vaurigard。
  Both　the　lady　and　her　name　thrilled　him。　　He　thought　he　remembered
  the　latter　in　Froissart：　　it　conjured　up　〃baronial　halls〃　and
  〃donjon　keeps；〃　rang　resonantly　in　his　mind　like　〃Let　the　portcullis
  fall！〃　　At　home　he　had　been　wont　to　speak　of　the　〃oldest　families　in
  Cranston；〃　complaining　of　the　invasions　of　〃new　people〃　into　the
  social　territory　of　the　McCords　and　Mellins　and　Kramersa　pleasant
  conception　which　the　presence　of　a　De　Vaurigard　revealed　to　him　as
  a　petty　and　shameful　fiction；　and　yet　his　humility；　like　his　little
  fit　of　trembling；　was　of　short　duration；　for　gay　geniality　of　Madame
  de　Vaurigard　put　him　amazingly　at　ease。
  At　Calais　young　Cooley　（with　a　matter…of…course　air；　and　not
  seeming　to　feel　the　need　of　asking　permission）　accompanied　her　to　a
  compartment；　and　Mellin　walked　with　them　to　the　steps　of　the　coach；
  where　he　paused；　murmuring　some　words　of　farewell。
  Madame　de　Vaurigard　turned　to　him　with　a　prettily　assumed　dismay。
  〃What！　　You　stay　at　Calais？〃　she　cried；　pausing　with　one　foot　on　the
  step　to　ascend。　　〃Oh！　　I　am　sorry　for　you。　　Calais　is　ter…rible！〃
  〃No。　I　am　going　on　to　Paris。〃
  〃So？　　You　have　frien's　in　another　coach　which　you　wish　to　be　wiz？〃
  〃No；　no；　indeed；〃　he　stammered　hastily。
  〃Well；　my　frien'；〃　she　laughed　gayly；　〃w'y　don'　you　come　wiz　us？〃
  Blushing；　he　followed　Cooley　into　the　coach；　to　spend　five　happy