6 What Katy Did Next - Bedtime Tales Stephanie Poppins

Hello.

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph.

A romantic bedtime podcast guaranteed to help you drift off into a calm relaxing sleep.

Come with me as we go back in time to visit Katie Carr.

She is all grown up now but she still has the same trials and tribulations she had as a child.

But before we begin let's take the time to focus on where we are now.

Take a deep breath in through your nose.

Take a deep breath in through your nose.

That's it.

Then let it out on a long sigh.

It is time to relax and really let go.

Feel yourself sink into the support beneath you.

And let the pressures of the day seep away.

Happy listening.

What Katie Did Next by Susan Coolidge Read and abridged by Stephanie Poppins Chapter Six Across the Channel Dawn had given place to day and day was well advanced toward noon before the stout little steamer gained her port.

It was hours after the usual time for arrival.

The train for Paris must long since have started and Katie felt dejected and forlorn as making her way out of the terrible lady's cabin she crept on deck for her first glimpse of France.

The sun was struggling through the fog with a watery smile and his faint beams shone on a confusion of stone piers higher than the vessel's deck intersected with canal-like waterways through which intricate windings the steamer was slowly threading her course.

Looking up Katie could see crowds of people assembled to watch the boat come in.

Workmen,

Peasants,

Women,

Children,

Soldiers,

Custom house officers moving to and fro and all were talking French.

I don't know why this should have startled her as it did.

She knew of course people of different countries were liable to be found speaking their own language but somehow the spectacle of the chattering multitude all seemed so perfectly at ease filled her with a sense of dismayed surprise.

Good gracious,

She said to herself,

Even the babies understand it.

She racked her brains to recall what she'd once known of French but very little seemed to have survived the horrors of the night.

Oh dear,

What is the word for trunk key?

She asked herself.

They'll all begin to ask questions and I'll not have a word to say and Mrs Ash will be even worse off I know.

She saw the red trousers custom house officers pounce upon the passengers as they landed and she felt her heart sink within her.

But when the time did come,

It did not prove so very bad.

Katie's pleasant looks and courteous manner stood her in good stead.

She didn't trust herself to say much but the officials seemed to understand without saying and they bowed and gestured,

Whisked the keys in and out and in a surprisingly short time all was pronounced right.

The baggage had passed and it and its owners were free to proceed to the railway station which fortunately was close at hand.

I'm rather glad,

Declared poor Mrs Ash,

That no train for Paris will leave till four in the afternoon.

I feel too used up to move.

I will lie here on this sofa and Katie dear,

Please see if there's an eating place and get some breakfast for yourself and Amy and send me a cup of tea.

I don't like to leave you alone,

Katie was beginning but at that moment a nice old woman who seemed to be in charge of the waiting room appeared and with a flood of French which none of them could follow,

Flew at Mrs Ash and began to make her comfortable.

From the cupboard in the wall she produced a pillow and from another cupboard a blanket.

In a trice she had one under Mrs Ash's head and the other wrapped around her feet.

Pauvre madame,

She said.

Then she trotted across the room and into the restaurant which opened out of it while Mrs Ash smiled at Katie and said,

You can leave me quite safely,

I'm to be taken care of.

And Katie and Amy passed through the same door into the buffet and sat down at a little table.

It was a particularly pleasant looking place to eat breakfast in.

There were many windows with bright polished panes and very clean short muslin curtains.

On the windowsill stood rows of frifty potted plants in full bloom,

Marigolds,

Balsams,

Nasterniums and many coloured geraniums.

Two birds in cages were singing loudly.

The floor was waxed to a glass-like polish,

Nothing could have been whiter than the marble of the tables except the napkins laid over them.

And such a good breakfast as was presently brought to them.

Delicious coffee in bowl-like cups,

Crisp rolls and rusks,

An omelette with a delicate flavour of fine herbs,

Stewed chicken,

Little pats of freshly churned butter without salt,

Shaped like shells,

And a pot of some sort of nice preserve.

I think France is heaps better than that old town.

England?

Said Amy,

Making delighted eyes at Katie.

And Katie herself felt if this railroad meal was a specimen of what they had to expect in the future,

They had indeed come to a land of plenty.

Fortified with a satisfactory breakfast,

Katie felt equal to a walk,

And after they made sure Mrs.

Ash had all she needed,

She and Amy set off by themselves to see the sights of Dieppe.

I don't know that travellers generally have considered Dieppe an interesting place,

But Katie found it so.

There was a really old church,

And some quaint buildings of the style of two centuries back,

And even the more modern streets had a novel look to her unaccustomed eyes.

At first they only ventured a timid turn or two,

Marking each corner and going back now and then to reassure themselves,

But after a while growing bolder,

Katie ventured to ask a question or two in French,

And was surprised and charmed to find herself understood.

After that she grew adventurous,

And no longer fearful of being lost,

Led Amy straight down a long street lined with shops,

Almost all of which were for the sale of articles in ivory.

Ivory Wares was one of the chief industries of Dieppe.

There were cases full of it,

Windows full,

Counters full,

The most exquisite combs and brushes,

Some with elaborate monograms in silver and colours,

Others plain.

There were boxes and caskets of every size and shape,

Ornaments,

Fans,

Parasol handles,

Looking glasses,

Frames for pictures large and small,

And napkin rings.

Katie was particularly smitten with a paper knife in the form of an angel,

With long slender wings raised over its head,

And meeting to form a point.

Its price was 20 francs,

And she was strongly tempted to buy it for clover or rose red,

But she said to herself sensibly,

This is the first shop I've been into and the first thing I've really wanted to buy,

And it's very likely I shall go on and see things that I want more,

So I would be foolish to do it.

And she resolutely turned her back on the ivory angel and walked away.

The next turn brought them to a gay-looking little marketplace where old women in white caps were sitting on the ground,

Beside baskets and panniers full of apples,

Pears,

And various queer and curly vegetables,

None of which Katie recognised as familiar.

There were fish of all shapes and colours,

Flapping in shallow tubs of seawater.

There were piles of stockings,

Muffeteers and comforters in vivid blue and red,

And coarse pottery glazed in bright patterns.

The faces of the women were brown and wrinkled.

There were no pretty ones among them,

But their black eyes were full of life and quickness,

And their fingers one and all clicked with knitting needles as their tongues flew equally fast in the chatter,

Which went on without stop,

Though customers did not seem to be many,

And sales were few.

Returning to the station at last,

They found Mrs.

Ash had been asleep during their absence and seemed so much better.

It was with great amended spirits they took their places in the late afternoon train,

Which was to set them down at Ruen.

Katie said they were like the wise men of the East,

Following a star in their choice of a hotel.

For having no better advice,

They decided upon one of those,

Thus distinguished in Bedecker's guidebook.

The star did not betray their confidence.

The Hotel de la Cloche,

Which it led them,

Proved to be a quaint and old place,

Very pleasant of aspect.

The lofty chambers with their dimly frescoed ceilings and beds curtained with faded patch might to all appearances have been furnished about the time when Columbus crossed the ocean blue,

But everything was clean and had an air of old time respectability.

The dining room,

Which was evidently of a more modern build,

Opened into a square courtyard where lemon trees in boxes stood round the basin of a little fountain.

In one corner of the room was a raised and railed platform where behind a desk sat the mistress of the house,

Busy with her account books,

But keeping an eye all the while on all that that went forward.

Mrs.

Ash walked past this personage without taking any notice of her,

As Americans are wont to do under such circumstances,

But presently the observant Katie noticed everyone else as they went in and out,

Who addressed a bow or a civil remark to her.

She quite blushed at the recollection afterwards as she made ready for bed.

How rude we must have seemed,

She thought.

I'm afraid the people here think Americans have awful manners.

Everybody's so polite.

They said bonsoir and merci and voulez-vous avoir la bonté to the waiters even.

Well,

There is one thing I'm going to reform.

Tomorrow I'll be as polite as anybody.

They'll think I'm miraculously improved by one night on French soil.

She kept her resolution and astonished Mrs.

Ash the next morning by bowing to the dame on the platform in the most winning manner,

And saying bonjour madame as they went by.

But Katie,

Who is that person?

Asked Mrs.

Ash.

Why do you speak to her?

Don't you see they all do,

Said Katie.

She's the landlady,

I think.

At all events,

Everybody bows to her.

And just notice how prettily these ladies at the next table speak to the waiter.

They do not order him to do things as we do at home.

I noticed it last night and I liked it so much.

I made a resolution to get up and be as polite as the French themselves.

So all the time they went about the sumptuous old city.

Katie remembered her manners and smiled and bowed and used courteous prefixes in a soft,

Pleasant voice.

And as Mrs.

Ash and Amy fell in with her example,

I think the guides and coachmen and the old women who showed them over the buildings felt the air of France was very civilising indeed.

And these strangers from savage countries over the sea were in a fair way to be as well-bred as if they had been born in a more favoured part of the world.

Paris looked very modern after the peculiar quaint richness and air of the Middle Ages,

Which distinguished Rouen.

Rooms had been engaged for Mrs.

Ash's party in a pension,

The Arc de Troyes,

And there they drove immediately on arriving.

They were a sitting room with six mirrors,

Three clocks and a pinched little grate about a foot wide,

A dining room just large enough for a table and four chairs,

And two bedrooms.

A maid called Amandine had been detailed to take charge of these rooms and serve their meals.

Dampness,

As Katie afterwards wrote to Clover,

Was the first impression they received of gay Paris.

The tiny fire in the tiny grate had only just been lighted and the walls and the sheets and even the blankets felt chilly and moist to the touch.

The days that ensued were not brilliant enough to remove this impression.

The November fog seemed to have followed them across the Channel and Paris remained enveloped in a wet blanket,

Which dimmed and hid its usually brilliant features.

Going about in cabs with the windows drawn up and now and then making a rush through the trip into shops was not exactly delightful,

But it seemed pretty much all they could do.

It was worse for Amy,

Whose cold kept her indoors and denied her even the relaxation of the cab.

Mrs.

Ash had engaged a well-recommended elderly English maid to come in every morning and take care of her while they were out.

And with this respectable functionary,

Whose ideas were of rigidly British type,

And who did not speak a word of any language but her own,

Poor Amy was compelled to spend most of her time.

Her only consolation was in persuading the serene admirer of the house was in persuading the serene attendant to take a part in the French lessons,

Which she made a daily point of giving to her doll,

Mabel,

Out of her own little phrasebook.

The next morning,

As they drove slowly down the Champs-Élysées and looked back for the last glimpse of the famous arch,

A bright object met their eyes.

It was the gay red wagon of the Bon Marché,

Carrying bundles home to the dwellers of some uptown street.

Katie burst out laughing.

It's an emblem of Paris,

She said,

Of our Paris.

It has been nothing but Bon Marché and fog.

Miss Katie,

Interrupted Amy,

Do you like Europe?

For my part,

I was never so disgusted with any place in all my life.

Poor little bird,

Her views of Europe are rather dark just now,

And no wonder,

Said Mrs.

Ash.

Never mind,

Darling,

You shall have something pleasant to buy and buy if I can find it for you.

Burnett is a great deal pleasanter than Paris,

Pronounced Amy decidedly.

It doesn't always keep raining there,

And I can take walks,

And I understand everything people say.

That day they sped southward,

And with every hour came a change in the aspect of their surroundings.

They made brief stops in large,

Busy towns,

Which seemed humming with industry.

They whirled through great countries with miles of vineyards,

Where the brown leaves still hung on the vines.

Then came glimpses of old Roman ruins,

Amphitheaters,

Viaducts,

Fragments of wall or arch,

Or a sudden chill betoken their approach to mountains,

Where snowy peaks could be seen on the far horizon.

But when the long night ended,

And the day roused them from broken slumbers,

The world was made over.

Autumn had vanished,

And the summer,

Which they thought fled for good,

Had taken its place.

Green woods waved about them,

Fresh leaves were blowing in the wind,

Roses and hollyhocks beckoned from white-walled gardens.

And before they'd done with exclaiming and rejoicing,

The Mediterranean shot into view intensely blue,

With white fringes of foam,

White sails blowing across,

White gulls flying above it,

And overall,

A sky of the same exquisite blue whose clouds were white as the drifting sails on the water below.

Now they were at Marseilles.

It was like a glimpse of paradise to eyes fresh from autumnal grays and glooms.

They sped along the lovely coast,

Every curve and turn showing new combinations of sea and shore.

With every mile,

The blue became bluer,

The wind became softer,

The feathery verdure more dense and summer-like.

The place seemed to laugh with gaiety as they rode down the Promenade des Anglais and passed the English Garden where the band was playing.

On one side was a line of bright-windowed hotels and pensions with balconies and striped awnings.

On the other,

The long reach of Yellow Sand Beach,

Where ladies were grouped on shawls and rugs and children ran up and down in the sun.

I wonder,

I wonder,

Said Mrs.

Ashe,

Struck by a sudden thought,

If by any chance our squadron is here.

She asked the question the moment they entered the hotel and the porter,

Who prided himself on understanding English,

Replied,

Mais oui,

Madame.

The American fleet is here.

That is,

Not here,

But a Villefranche,

Just a little four mile away.

It is the same thing,

Exactly.

Katie,

Do you hear that?

Cried Mrs.

Ashe.

The frigates are here.

I am perfectly delighted.

So am I,

Said Katie.

I never saw a frigate and I always wanted to see one.

Do you suppose they'll let us go on board one of them?

Why,

Of course they will,

Said Mrs.

Ashe.

Give me a sheet of paper and an envelope,

Please,

She turned to the porter.

I must let Ned know I'm here at once.

Then she wrote her note and dispatched it before they went upstairs to take off their bonnet.

Perhaps we may come across Ned,

She remarked.

They did not come across Ned,

But there was no lack of other delightful objects to engage their attention when they at last went outside on the beach.

The sands were smooth and hard as a floor.

Soft pink lights were beginning to tinge the western sky.

To the north shone the peaks of the Maritime Alps and the same rosy glow caught them here and there and warmed their greys and whites into colour.

I'm so glad we came here,

Katie told Mrs.

Ashe.

I never confessed it to you before,

But sometimes,

When we were sick at sea,

You know,

And when it would rain all the time,

And after Amy caught that cold in Paris,

I've almost wished just for a moment that we hadn't.

But now,

I would not have come for the world.

This is perfectly delicious.

I'm so glad we're here and we're going to have a lovely time.

Later that day,

They returned to the hotel and were just passing out of the rooms into the hall when two ladies who were walking up a cross passage turned their head at the sound of Katie's voice.

It was Mrs.

Page and Lily.

It was Mrs.

Page and Lily.

Why,

Cousin Olivia,

Is it you?

She cried,

Springing forward.

Mrs.

Page seemed rather puzzled and put up her eyeglass.

She did not seem to quite make out who Katie was.

It's Katie Carr,

Mama,

Explained Lily.

Katie,

This is a surprise.

Who would have thought of meeting you here?

Lily looked prettier than ever and beautifully dressed in soft brown velvet which exactly suited her complexion and her pale coloured wavy hair.

Katie Carr,

Why,

So it is,

Admitted Mrs.

Page.

What a surprise indeed.

And what brings you here to this house,

I mean?

Oh,

We've taken rooms for a while,

Said Katie.

Have you,

Said Lily,

In a voice which did not express any particular pleasure.

Why,

We're staying here too.