# The Pleasure Trip

Extracted from Windsor magazine, v.62, 1925, pp. 466-470. Accompanying illustration by Laurie Tayler omitted.
THE PLEASURE TRIP
By W. PETT RIDGE
MISS ILLINGHAM came on deck as the Lyndoch (3,550 tons) made its way past Greenwich, and Mr. Winchilsea, turning from an inspection through field glasses of the College, stumbled against her. "Forgive me," he exclaimed, and "I beg your pardon," she said. And she went on, with open distress on her agreeable features, in search of the captain. The captain had already taken the remote deportment favoured by those in charge of sea traffic, and Miss Allingham had to be content with a deck steward; him she mistakenly addressed in the tones of imperative command.
"Fetch my luggage at once," she ordered. "Stop the ship, and get something to take me off at Gravesend."
"Miss," he asked ironically, "are you sure there's nothing else, while you are about it?"
"A gentleman is here," she explained, "whom I have the best reasons for wishing to avoid. Not later than a week ago we decided never to meet again. By a terrible piece of misfortune——"
"You'll have to make the best of it," said the deck steward. "And, for mercy's sake, drop the idea of going to the boss. If you do, he'll tell you off as you've never been told off yet. As to stopping the boat, why, that's purely and simply"—he spoke with great distinctness—"a bit of childish nonsense."
She gazed around as the youth went off; it was evident she hoped to find manly help of a more useful nature. Passengers gave her no encouraging signs; all seemed intent upon their own comfort. Below there was the Mrs. Crompton (widow) who shared the cabin, but to her Miss Allingham, on first introduction, had given an elaborate story of a breakdown in health, consequent on overwork in finishing a novels the truth being that she read but did not write fiction, and anything like excessive occupation she had always avoided, Indeed, it was in regard to this that the quarrel with Mr. Winchilsea had happened.
Mr. Winchilsea came, bearing in his hand a note. He signalled to the deck steward and gave him the envelope with whispered instructions; it was promptly delivered.
"Dear Millicent," read Miss Allingham, and thought of the correspondence in the same handwriting that had opened in a more affectionate way, "this is an unfortunate incident for which neither of us is to blame. I suggest that during the voyage we treat each other as ordinary acquaintances, making no allusion to the scene which took place in Room Number Four of the National Gallery a few days since.
"Please send me a line.
"George Winchilsea."
Across the letter Miss Allingham wrote the word "Agreed!" The deck steward again performed the duty of messenger. Apparently he was well recompensed for the service; he returned and made a brief oration to Miss Allingham on the subject of the trials and troubles of this world. He pointed out that there was no sense in making overmuch of these, for half of them did not exist, and of the other half it could be said they would certainly vanish if you ignored them.
"Going to be a perfectly delightful trip," remarked Mrs. Crompton, striding along. She went the length of the upper deck and, in her desire for exercise, kept up an intermittent conversation, with sentences flung as she went by. The plan saved Miss Allingham the necessity of answering.
"Such a jolly set of people on board," was the next comment.
And "I've been chatting with some of them already."
And "One of the men knows you slightly. A Mr. Winchilsea, an architect, found we were sharing a cabin, and asked me to look after you."
Finally—when she had reached the total number of promenades desired—she brought a deck chair to the side of Miss Allingham. "If there is anything on your mind, dear," she said eagerly, "don't be afraid to tell me all about it."
"Just now," said the other, "I haven't a mind. And if I had, there would be nothing on it."
The widow was not easily rebuffed. "If it is anything to do with love," she said, "I feel sure I can be helpful. I've lost two husbands."
"Have you inquired at Scotland Yard?"
Not until the summons came for tea did the widow cease her efforts. At the tables Miss Allingham contrived to escape her, and was rewarded by the presence of a rather elderly gentleman who told her all there was to be known about his sufferings from phlebitis. Away in a corner, Mr. Winchilsea seemed to be doing well with an anecdote he was relating to young women. Miss Allingham wondered which story it was. He knew five in all, and two of them were good. Spurred by his aspect of cheerfulness, she increased her attention from the other side of the table to the recital. As a consequence, the rather elderly gentleman said again everything he had said, and escorted her when she expressed a craving for fresh air. This was at twenty minutes to five. Before six o'clock her companion had made an offer of marriage, with a cordial invitation to share his trials and his joys. He added a complete financial statement.
"May I have time to think it over?" she asked.
He glanced at his watch. "You can give me your reply at dinner," he said.
"There is one question I should like to ask. Do you ever talk of anything but your phlebitis?"
"Rarely!" he admitted.
At the evening meal she announced that, after giving much thought to the matter, she had decided that the answer must be "No." Mrs. Crompton, seated near, overheard this, and later conducted a cross-examination in her own masterly style; that night, and before she retired, the exhilarating rumour went to and fro that the trip had already resulted in one romantic incident. A pleasing augury. The news came in its turn to Winchilsea in the smoking-room, and it was observed that when the names of the parties were mentioned he laid his cigar very carefully on a brass tray and did not relight it.
In a general way, descriptions of a voyage down Channel, and preparing to cross the Bay, have to include, on the second day out, a delicate allusion to the less pleasing side of a sea journey; in the case of the Lyndoch nothing of the kind is required. The passengers who felt indisposed on the quay, ere going on board, stayed in their cabins now, but the rest took breakfast and all the other meals, joined in the deck games that had been promptly started. Winchilsea found himself appointed Master of Sports, and this made it necessary that he should speak to folk without introduction, and excused him for doing so. The captain, relaxing austerity, looked on approvingly, and presently honoured Winchilsea by taking his arm; the two marched together, and passengers noted that a friendship was being created. Later, Winchilsea was able to bring in Miss Allingham and to make her known to the rest, and this enabled her to escape from the phlebitis gentleman and from Mrs. Crompton. Both had hitherto claimed rights upon her time and her conversation.
"This is very kind," she remarked aside.
"I want you to enjoy yourself," declared Winchilsea with earnestness. "It is indispensable to both of us to try to forget."
"But not easy," sighed Miss Allingham. She found, from one highly presentable youth, that Winchilsea had alluded in terms of compliment to her powers as an artist in black-and-white; the young man presented his autograph book, asking her to draw something in it. A sketch of the captain, wearing his most defensive look, was received with gratitude, and from that moment Miss Allingham's popularity was assured. All desired a similar caricature, and eventually Winchilsea had to interpose. They had to remember, he said, that Miss Allingham was taking the trip for the benefit of her health, and too much ought not to be exacted from her.
"But just one more," each pleaded, "She dashes them off so quickly that one more——"
"I cannot allow it," declared Winchilsea firmly.
An energetic young woman, not often baulked in any enterprise, went, so to speak, over his head and, approaching Miss Allingham directly, obtained the sketch. And this she exhibited proudly to the captain, who, after close inspection, remarked: "Clever, no doubt, but scarcely in good taste!"
That evening he spoke publicly from his table at dinner. Complaints, he said, had reached him, and in the interests of good-fellowship he felt bound to take notice of them. Caricatures, so he understood, were being passed around, and as these were of a crude and impertinent nature, he hoped that folk owning them would straightway throw them overboard; the parties who executed the drawings would be good enough to accept this as a warning. In spite of this, the drawings were preserved, but thenceforth Miss Allineham sketched no one but Winchilsea—a task she had so often performed during their earlier acquaintance, that she could do it with eyes shut.
"You don't object?" she asked of him.
"Of course not," he answered readily, "I never object to anything that you do."
"It is what I do not do that you criticise," she suggested. "You called me lazy."
"We won't talk about that. It is not likely we shall agree. Remember that we have still eighteen days left of this cruise, and let us do our best to keep on good terms with each other." He beckoned to the ship's doctor, and, introducing him to Miss Allingham, went off to superintend the games.
"You, like myself," said the doctor pleasantly, "have little or no occupation."
"I prefer it," she mentioned.
"There is much to be argued in favour of indolence," he agreed. "There would be everything on its side if we could but make a living at it."
"The raging, tearing, furious career," declared Miss Allingham, "I leave to others. For me, the quiet life. I work only when it suits me to do so."
"An ideal existence. But only possible to those who have an income to rely upon."
"Man wants but little here below, and woman can do with a good deal less. By the by, when do we again encounter the anxieties of land?"
"First stop Tangiers," replied the doctor. "Haven't you put your name down for one of the excursions?"
"Too much bother," she said languidly.
It was exactly a week later that four individuals set out to walk from a point thirty miles in towards the African port alluded to by the medical man. The adventurous folk who had detained them, in the hope of securing ransom, having discovered that the Lyndoch had left Tangiers to continue its voyage—the fact that Miss Allingham was amongst the missing probably influenced the captain's decision—now resolved to let them go. The brigands apologised for the circumstance that they had to keep the horses and deprive the four of money and jewellery.
"Rather a gentlemanly set," declared Mrs. Crompton, looking back.
"For some reason," said the elderly gentleman, "I have not been troubled with my phlebitis."
"I propose," said Winchilsea, "that we make up our minds to do three miles an hour."
"But for your damaged condition," said Miss Allingham, "—and you certainly put up a very good fight—we could do more."
Their captors had provided them with a limited supply of food, and the consumption of this was measured carefully. That night they rested near a small village which they did not dare to enter. In the morning it was found that Winchilsea's injuries prevented him from moving. A council was held, and Mrs. Crompton said at once that it was unthinkable to allow the two young people to remain by themselves; the elderly gentleman set out bravely, and promised to bring means of conveyance at the earliest moment. No sooner had he vanished from sight than the widow announced that she was about to draw her last breath.
"It's a pity," she mentioned resignedly, "but it had to happen sooner or later. And I do hope it won't lead to scandal about you two."
For thirty-six hours Miss Allingham worked as few have been called upon to work; she herself admitted that she found a new joy in being completely busy. Mrs. Crompton, out of sheer gratitude, made her will, leaving everything to the girl; she omitted to sign the document, but this mattered the less, seeing that, the job over, she at once began to make a recovery in health. When the British consul and his clerk appeared, leading horses, Miss Allingham had just gone to sleep, and the other two would not permit her to be awakened.
"She has worn herself out for our sake," said Winchilsea, gazing at her admiringly.
"Nurse, cook, and comforter," asserted Mrs. Crompton, "all in one."
The Lyndoch called at Tangiers on its return from the eastern end of the Mediterranean, and the four put off in a boat and rejoined their fellow-passengers. The captain announced that the sight of them took a great burden from his thoughts; he presented them with a London journal obtained at Malta, and Miss Allingham discovered that the concern in which her money was invested had gone into liquidation. "I shall have to turn up my sleeves now," she said cheerfully, and Winchilsea nodded.
He was more eloquent that evening, after dinner, when they sat on deck. The other travellers, and especially the youthful, had increased the terms of friendship; a sound of exchanged kisses came at intervals.
"For some reason," said Miss Allingham, "all this makes me feel most profoundly single."
"That, my dear sweetheart," he declared, "can be easily remedied so soon as we arrive in London!"
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1930, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 93 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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