The scarlet car; The Princess Aline — Edition Insights

The Automobile as Romantic Agent

In "The Scarlet Car," the automobile is central to the plot and the narrator's voice. The car is described with a mix of mechanical precision and romantic flourish: it "chugged and protested and trembled with impatience" outside the beloved's door. The journey to the Harvard-Yale game becomes an opportunity for proximity—Winthrop hopes to "snatch glimpses of her profile rising from the rough fur collar." The catalog subject "Automobile driving" is thus not a backdrop but a mechanism of intimacy. Davis uses the car's speed and enclosure to create a private world within a public outing, a detail that distinguishes this story from a generic romance.

Social Codes and Engagements

Both novellas hinge on the presence of a fiancé or rival. In "The Scarlet Car," Peabody is "engaged to Miss Forbes," and his inclusion is a social necessity: "It was necessary to invite Peabody because it was his great good fortune to be engaged." In "The Princess Aline," Carlton notes that he "always enjoyed meeting attractive girls who were engaged, as it left him no choice in the matter." These observations reveal a world where romantic pursuit is governed by unspoken rules, and the engaged woman is both a prize and a safe conversational partner. The excerpts do not show whether these engagements hold, but they establish a pattern of triangulated desire.

Transatlantic Pursuit and Artistic Pretense

"The Princess Aline" introduces a different kind of chase: Carlton, an artist, telegraphs the German Embassy for the address of Princess Aline of Hohenwald, then ships paintings to London as cover. The story's setting shifts from a New York studio to a steamer, where Carlton observes fellow passengers with a detached, cataloguing eye. The narrator describes the crowd as "attractive-looking people" who leave when the whistle blows, and notes that "the next most attractive-looking, who remain on board, are ill all the way over." This wry social commentary, combined with the logistical details of the pursuit, suggests a story more concerned with the mechanics of adventure than with emotional depth.

Readers approaching this volume should note that the two novellas, though published together, were written over a decade apart and differ in tone. The excerpts offer no resolution to either romantic plot, so the pleasure lies in Davis's crisp dialogue and his ability to render the textures of early automobile travel and transatlantic steamer society. Pay attention to how the characters use objects—cars, telegrams, paintings—to negotiate desire and status.

I remember shelving The Scarlet Car years ago, noting how Davis’s young men chased love at full throttle. Later, Araminta came along, quieter about its courtships, yet both knew the heart’s detours. There’s a kinship there, a shared whisper about longing and timing. Araminta — Themes and Context remembers that softer road, and I find myself nodding.