Chapter I The Bertolini
The Signora had no business to do it said Miss Bartlett no business at all She promised us south rooms with a view close together instead of which here are north rooms looking into a courtyard and a long way apart Oh Lucy
And a Cockney besides said Lucy who had been further saddened by the Signoras unexpected accent It might be London She looked at the two rows of English people who were sitting at the table at the row of white bottles of water and red bottles of wine that ran between the English people at the portraits of the late Queen and the late Poet Laureate that hung behind the English people heavily framed at the notice of the English church Rev Cuthbert Eager M A Oxon that was the only other decoration of the wall Charlotte dont you feel too that we might be in London I can hardly believe that all kinds of other things are just outside I suppose it is ones being so tired
This meat has surely been used for soup said Miss Bartlett laying down her fork
I want so to see the Arno The rooms the Signora promised us in her letter would have looked over the Arno The Signora had no business to do it at all Oh it is a shame
Any nook does for me Miss Bartlett continued but it does seem hard that you shouldnt have a view
Lucy felt that she had been selfish Charlotte you mustnt spoil me of course you must look over the Arno too I meant that The first vacant room in the front— You must have it said Miss Bartlett part of whose travelling expenses were paid by Lucys mother—a piece of generosity to which she made many a tactful allusion
No no You must have it
I insist on it Your mother would never forgive me Lucy
She would never forgive me
The ladies voices grew animated and—if the sad truth be owned—a little peevish They were tired and under the guise of unselfishness they wrangled Some of their neighbours interchanged glances and one of them—one of the illbred people whom one does meet abroad—leant forward over the table and actually intruded into their argument He said
I have a view I have a view
Miss Bartlett was startled Generally at a pension people looked them over for a day or two before speaking and often did not find out that they would do till they had gone She knew that the intruder was illbred even before she glanced at him He was an old man of heavy build with a fair shaven face and large eyes There was something childish in those eyes though it was not the childishness of senility What exactly it was Miss Bartlett did not stop to consider for her glance passed on to his clothes These did not attract her He was probably trying to become acquainted with them before they got into the swim So she assumed a dazed expression when he spoke to her and then said A view Oh a view How delightful a view is
This is my son said the old man his names George He has a view too
Ah said Miss Bartlett repressing Lucy who was about to speak
What I mean he continued is that you can have our rooms and well have yours Well change
The better class of tourist was shocked at this and sympathized with the newcomers Miss Bartlett in reply opened her mouth as little as possible and said Thank you very much indeed that is out of the question
Why said the old man with both fists on the table
Because it is quite out of the question thank you
You see we dont like to take— began Lucy Her cousin again repressed her
But why he persisted Women like looking at a view men dont And he thumped with his fists like a naughty child and turned to his son saying George persuade them
Its so obvious they should have the rooms said the son Theres nothing else to say
He did not look at the ladies as he spoke but his voice was perplexed and sorrowful Lucy too was perplexed but she saw that they were in for what is known as quite a scene and she had an odd feeling that whenever these illbred tourists spoke the contest widened and deepened till it dealt not with rooms and views but with—well with something quite different whose existence she had not realized before Now the old man attacked Miss Bartlett almost violently Why should she not change What possible objection had she They would clear out in half an hour
Miss Bartlett though skilled in the delicacies of conversation was powerless in the presence of brutality It was impossible to snub any one so gross Her face reddened with displeasure She looked around as much as to say Are you all like this And two little old ladies who were sitting further up the table with shawls hanging over the backs of the chairs looked back clearly indicating We are not we are genteel
Eat your dinner dear she said to Lucy and began to toy again with the meat that she had once censured
Lucy mumbled that those seemed very odd people opposite
Eat your dinner dear This pension is a failure Tomorrow we will make a change
Hardly had she announced this fell decision when she reversed it The curtains at the end of the room parted and revealed a clergyman stout but attractive who hurried forward to take his place at the table cheerfully apologizing for his lateness Lucy who had not yet acquired decency at once rose to her feet exclaiming Oh oh Why its Mr Beebe Oh how perfectly lovely Oh Charlotte we must stop now however bad the rooms are Oh
Miss Bartlett said with more restraint
How do you do Mr Beebe I expect that you have forgotten us Miss Bartlett and Miss Honeychurch who were at Tunbridge Wells when you helped the Vicar of St Peters that very cold Easter
The clergyman who had the air of one on a holiday did not remember the ladies quite as clearly as they remembered him But he came forward pleasantly enough and accepted the chair into which he was beckoned by Lucy
I AM so glad to see you said the girl who was in a state of spiritual starvation and would have been glad to see the waiter if her cousin had permitted it Just fancy how small the world is Summer Street too makes it so specially funny
Miss Honeychurch lives in the parish of Summer Street said Miss Bartlett filling up the gap and she happened to tell me in the course of conversation that you have just accepted the living—
Yes I heard from mother so last week She didnt know that I knew you at Tunbridge Wells but I wrote back at once and I said Mr Beebe is—
Quite right said the clergyman I move into the Rectory at Summer Street next June I am lucky to be appointed to such a charming neighbourhood
Oh how glad I am The name of our house is Windy Corner Mr Beebe bowed
There is mother and me generally and my brother though its not often we get him to ch—— The church is rather far off I mean
Lucy dearest let Mr Beebe eat his dinner
I am eating it thank you and enjoying it
He preferred to talk to Lucy whose playing he remembered rather than to Miss Bartlett who probably remembered his sermons He asked the girl whether she knew Florence well and was informed at some length that she had never been there before It is delightful to advise a newcomer and he was first in the field Dont neglect the country round his advice concluded The first fine afternoon drive up to Fiesole and round by Settignano or something of that sort
No cried a voice from the top of the table Mr Beebe you are wrong The first fine afternoon your ladies must go to Prato
That lady looks so clever whispered Miss Bartlett to her cousin We are in luck
And indeed a perfect torrent of information burst on them People told them what to see when to see it how to stop the electric trams how to get rid of the beggars how much to give for a vellum blotter how much the place would grow upon them The Pension Bertolini had decided almost enthusiastically that they would do Whichever way they looked kind ladies smiled and shouted at them And above all rose the voice of the clever lady crying Prato They must go to Prato That place is too sweetly squalid for words I love it I revel in shaking off the trammels of respectability as you know
The young man named George glanced at the clever lady and then returned moodily to his plate Obviously he and his father did not do Lucy in the midst of her success found time to wish they did It gave her no extra pleasure that any one should be left in the cold and when she rose to go she turned back and gave the two outsiders a nervous little bow
The father did not see it the son acknowledged it not by another bow but by raising his eyebrows and smiling he seemed to be smiling across something
She hastened after her cousin who had already disappeared through the curtains—curtains which smote one in the face and seemed heavy with more than cloth Beyond them stood the unreliable Signora bowing goodevening to her guests and supported by Enery her little boy and Victorier her daughter It made a curious little scene this attempt of the Cockney to convey the grace and geniality of the South And even more curious was the drawingroom which attempted to rival the solid comfort of a Bloomsbury boardinghouse Was this really Italy
Miss Bartlett was already seated on a tightly stuffed armchair which had the colour and the contours of a tomato She was talking to Mr Beebe and as she spoke her long narrow head drove backwards and forwards slowly regularly as though she were demolishing some invisible obstacle We are most grateful to you she was saying The first evening means so much When you arrived we were in for a peculiarly mauvais quart dheure
He expressed his regret
Do you by any chance know the name of an old man who sat opposite us at dinner
Emerson
Is he a friend of yours
We are friendly—as one is in pensions
Then I will say no more
He pressed her very slightly and she said more
I am as it were she concluded the chaperon of my young cousin Lucy and it would be a serious thing if I put her under an obligation to people of whom we know nothing His manner was somewhat unfortunate I hope I acted for the best
You acted very naturally said he He seemed thoughtful and after a few moments added All the same I dont think much harm would have come of accepting
No harm of course But we could not be under an obligation
He is rather a peculiar man Again he hesitated and then said gently I think he would not take advantage of your acceptance nor expect you to show gratitude He has the merit—if it is one—of saying exactly what he means He has rooms he does not value and he thinks you would value them He no more thought of putting you under an obligation than he thought of being polite It is so difficult—at least I find it difficult—to understand people who speak the truth
Lucy was pleased and said I was hoping that he was nice I do so always hope that people will be nice
I think he is nice and tiresome I differ from him on almost every point of any importance and so I expect—I may say I hope—you will differ But his is a type one disagrees with rather than deplores When he first came here he not unnaturally put peoples backs up He has no tact and no manners—I dont mean by that that he has bad manners—and he will not keep his opinions to himself We nearly complained about him to our depressing Signora but I am glad to say we thought better of it
Am I to conclude said Miss Bartlett that he is a Socialist
Mr Beebe accepted the convenient word not without a slight twitching of the lips
And presumably he has brought up his son to be a Socialist too
I hardly know George for he hasnt learnt to talk yet He seems a nice creature and I think he has brains Of course he has all his fathers mannerisms and it is quite possible that he too may be a Socialist
Oh you relieve me said Miss Bartlett So you think I ought to have accepted their offer You feel I have been narrowminded and suspicious
Not at all he answered I never suggested that
But ought I not to apologize at all events for my apparent rudeness
He replied with some irritation that it would be quite unnecessary and got up from his seat to go to the smokingroom
Was I a bore said Miss Bartlett as soon as he had disappeared Why didnt you talk Lucy He prefers young people Im sure I do hope I havent monopolized him I hoped you would have him all the evening as well as all dinnertime
He is nice exclaimed Lucy Just what I remember He seems to see good in every one No one would take him for a clergyman
My dear Lucia—
Well you know what I mean And you know how clergymen generally laugh Mr Beebe laughs just like an ordinary man
Funny girl How you do remind me of your mother I wonder if she will approve of Mr Beebe
Im sure she will and so will Freddy
I think every one at Windy Corner will approve it is the fashionable world I am used to Tunbridge Wells where we are all hopelessly behind the times
Yes said Lucy despondently
There was a haze of disapproval in the air but whether the disapproval was of herself or of Mr Beebe or of the fashionable world at Windy Corner or of the narrow world at Tunbridge Wells she could not determine She tried to locate it but as usual she blundered Miss Bartlett sedulously denied disapproving of any one and added I am afraid you are finding me a very depressing companion
And the girl again thought I must have been selfish or unkind I must be more careful It is so dreadful for Charlotte being poor
Fortunately one of the little old ladies who for some time had been smiling very benignly now approached and asked if she might be allowed to sit where Mr Beebe had sat Permission granted she began to chatter gently about Italy the plunge it had been to come there the gratifying success of the plunge the improvement in her sisters health the necessity of closing the bedroom windows at night and of thoroughly emptying the waterbottles in the morning She handled her subjects agreeably and they were perhaps more worthy of attention than the high discourse upon Guelfs and Ghibellines which was proceeding tempestuously at the other end of the room It was a real catastrophe not a mere episode that evening of hers at Venice when she had found in her bedroom something that is one worse than a flea though one better than something else
But here you are as safe as in England Signora Bertolini is so English
Yet our rooms smell said poor Lucy We dread going to bed
Ah then you look into the court She sighed If only Mr Emerson was more tactful We were so sorry for you at dinner
I think he was meaning to be kind
Undoubtedly he was said Miss Bartlett
Mr Beebe has just been scolding me for my suspicious nature Of course I was holding back on my cousins account
Of course said the little old lady and they murmured that one could not be too careful with a young girl
Lucy tried to look demure but could not help feeling a great fool No one was careful with her at home or at all events she had not noticed it
About old Mr Emerson—I hardly know No he is not tactful yet have you ever noticed that there are people who do things which are most indelicate and yet at the same time—beautiful
Beautiful said Miss Bartlett puzzled at the word Are not beauty and delicacy the same
So one would have thought said the other helplessly But things are so difficult I sometimes think
She proceeded no further into things for Mr Beebe reappeared looking extremely pleasant
Miss Bartlett he cried its all right about the rooms Im so glad Mr Emerson was talking about it in the smokingroom and knowing what I did I encouraged him to make the offer again He has let me come and ask you He would be so pleased
Oh Charlotte cried Lucy to her cousin we must have the rooms now The old man is just as nice and kind as he can be
Miss Bartlett was silent
I fear said Mr Beebe after a pause that I have been officious I must apologize for my interference
Gravely displeased he turned to go Not till then did Miss Bartlett reply My own wishes dearest Lucy are unimportant in comparison with yours It would be hard indeed if I stopped you doing as you liked at Florence when I am only here through your kindness If you wish me to turn these gentlemen out of their rooms I will do it Would you then Mr Beebe kindly tell Mr Emerson that I accept his kind offer and then conduct him to me in order that I may thank him personally
She raised her voice as she spoke it was heard all over the drawingroom and silenced the Guelfs and the Ghibellines The clergyman inwardly cursing the female sex bowed and departed with her message
Remember Lucy I alone am implicated in this I do not wish the acceptance to come from you Grant me that at all events
Mr Beebe was back saying rather nervously
Mr Emerson is engaged but here is his son instead
The young man gazed down on the three ladies who felt seated on the floor so low were their chairs
My father he said is in his bath so you cannot thank him personally But any message given by you to me will be given by me to him as soon as he comes out
Miss Bartlett was unequal to the bath All her barbed civilities came forth wrong end first Young Mr Emerson scored a notable triumph to the delight of Mr Beebe and to the secret delight of Lucy
Poor young man said Miss Bartlett as soon as he had gone
How angry he is with his father about the rooms It is all he can do to keep polite
In half an hour or so your rooms will be ready said Mr Beebe Then looking rather thoughtfully at the two cousins he retired to his own rooms to write up his philosophic diary
Oh dear breathed the little old lady and shuddered as if all the winds of heaven had entered the apartment Gentlemen sometimes do not realize— Her voice faded away but Miss Bartlett seemed to understand and a conversation developed in which gentlemen who did not thoroughly realize played a principal part Lucy not realizing either was reduced to literature Taking up Baedekers Handbook to Northern Italy she committed to memory the most important dates of Florentine History For she was determined to enjoy herself on the morrow Thus the halfhour crept profitably away and at last Miss Bartlett rose with a sigh and said
I think one might venture now No Lucy do not stir I will superintend the move
How you do do everything said Lucy
Naturally dear It is my affair
But I would like to help you
No dear
Charlottes energy And her unselfishness She had been thus all her life but really on this Italian tour she was surpassing herself So Lucy felt or strove to feel And yet—there was a rebellious spirit in her which wondered whether the acceptance might not have been less delicate and more beautiful At all events she entered her own room without any feeling of joy
I want to explain said Miss Bartlett why it is that I have taken the largest room Naturally of course I should have given it to you but I happen to know that it belongs to the young man and I was sure your mother would not like it
Lucy was bewildered
If you are to accept a favour it is more suitable you should be under an obligation to his father than to him I am a woman of the world in my small way and I know where things lead to However Mr Beebe is a guarantee of a sort that they will not presume on this
Mother wouldnt mind Im sure said Lucy but again had the sense of larger and unsuspected issues
Miss Bartlett only sighed and enveloped her in a protecting embrace as she wished her goodnight It gave Lucy the sensation of a fog and when she reached her own room she opened the window and breathed the clean night air thinking of the kind old man who had enabled her to see the lights dancing in the Arno and the cypresses of San Miniato and the foothills of the Apennines black against the rising moon
Miss Bartlett in her room fastened the windowshutters and locked the door and then made a tour of the apartment to see where the cupboards led and whether there were any oubliettes or secret entrances It was then that she saw pinned up over the washstand a sheet of paper on which was scrawled an enormous note of interrogation Nothing more
What does it mean she thought and she examined it carefully by the light of a candle Meaningless at first it gradually became menacing obnoxious portentous with evil She was seized with an impulse to destroy it but fortunately remembered that she had no right to do so since it must be the property of young Mr Emerson So she unpinned it carefully and put it between two pieces of blottingpaper to keep it clean for him Then she completed her inspection of the room sighed heavily according to her habit and went to bed
Chapter II In Santa Croce with No Baedeker
It was pleasant to wake up in Florence to open the eyes upon a bright bare room with a floor of red tiles which look clean though they are not with a painted ceiling whereon pink griffins and blue amorini sport in a forest of yellow violins and bassoons It was pleasant too to fling wide the windows pinching the fingers in unfamiliar fastenings to lean out into sunshine with beautiful hills and trees and marble churches opposite and close below the Arno gurgling against the embankment of the road
Over the river men were at work with spades and sieves on the sandy foreshore and on the river was a boat also diligently employed for some mysterious end An electric tram came rushing underneath the window No one was inside it except one tourist but its platforms were overflowing with Italians who preferred to stand Children tried to hang on behind and the conductor with no malice spat in their faces to make them let go Then soldiers appeared—goodlooking undersized men—wearing each a knapsack covered with mangy fur and a greatcoat which had been cut for some larger soldier Beside them walked officers looking foolish and fierce and before them went little boys turning somersaults in time with the band The tramcar became entangled in their ranks and moved on painfully like a caterpillar in a swarm of ants One of the little boys fell down and some white bullocks came out of an archway Indeed if it had not been for the good advice of an old man who was selling buttonhooks the road might never have got clear
Over such trivialities as these many a valuable hour may slip away and the traveller who has gone to Italy to study the tactile values of Giotto or the corruption of the Papacy may return remembering nothing but the blue sky and the men and women who live under it So it was as well that Miss Bartlett should tap and come in and having commented on Lucys leaving the door unlocked and on her leaning out of the window before she was fully dressed should urge her to hasten herself or the best of the day would be gone By the time Lucy was ready her cousin had done her breakfast and was listening to the clever lady among the crumbs
A conversation then ensued on not unfamiliar lines Miss Bartlett was after all a wee bit tired and thought they had better spend the morning settling in unless Lucy would at all like to go out Lucy would rather like to go out as it was her first day in Florence but of course she could go alone Miss Bartlett could not allow this Of course she would accompany Lucy everywhere Oh certainly not Lucy would stop with her cousin Oh no that would never do Oh yes
At this point the clever lady broke in
If it is Mrs Grundy who is troubling you I do assure you that you can neglect the good person Being English Miss Honeychurch will be perfectly safe Italians understand A dear friend of mine Contessa Baroncelli has two daughters and when she cannot send a maid to school with them she lets them go in sailorhats instead Every one takes them for English you see especially if their hair is strained tightly behind
Miss Bartlett was unconvinced by the safety of Contessa Baroncellis daughters She was determined to take Lucy herself her head not being so very bad The clever lady then said that she was going to spend a long morning in Santa Croce and if Lucy would come too she would be delighted
I will take you by a dear dirty back way Miss Honeychurch and if you bring me luck we shall have an adventure
Lucy said that this was most kind and at once opened the Baedeker to see where Santa Croce was
Tut tut Miss Lucy I hope we shall soon emancipate you from Baedeker He does but touch the surface of things As to the true Italy—he does not even dream of it The true Italy is only to be found by patient observation
This sounded very interesting and Lucy hurried over her breakfast and started with her new friend in high spirits Italy was coming at last The Cockney Signora and her works had vanished like a bad dream
Miss Lavish—for that was the clever ladys name—turned to the right along the sunny Lung Arno How delightfully warm But a wind down the side streets cut like a knife didnt it Ponte alle Grazie—particularly interesting mentioned by Dante San Miniato—beautiful as well as interesting the crucifix that kissed a murderer—Miss Honeychurch would remember the story The men on the river were fishing Untrue but then so is most information Then Miss Lavish darted under the archway of the white bullocks and she stopped and she cried
A smell a true Florentine smell Every city let me teach you has its own smell
Is it a very nice smell said Lucy who had inherited from her mother a distaste to dirt
One doesnt come to Italy for niceness was the retort one comes for life Buon giorno Buon giorno bowing right and left Look at that adorable winecart How the driver stares at us dear simple soul
So Miss Lavish proceeded through the streets of the city of Florence short fidgety and playful as a kitten though without a kittens grace It was a treat for the girl to be with any one so clever and so cheerful and a blue military cloak such as an Italian officer wears only increased the sense of festivity
Buon giorno Take the word of an old woman Miss Lucy you will never repent of a little civility to your inferiors That is the true democracy Though I am a real Radical as well There now youre shocked
Indeed Im not exclaimed Lucy We are Radicals too out and out My father always voted for Mr Gladstone until he was so dreadful about Ireland
I see I see And now you have gone over to the enemy
Oh please— If my father was alive I am sure he would vote Radical again now that Ireland is all right And as it is the glass over our front door was broken last election and Freddy is sure it was the Tories but mother says nonsense a tramp
Shameful A manufacturing district I suppose
No—in the Surrey hills About five miles from Dorking looking over the Weald
Miss Lavish seemed interested and slackened her trot
What a delightful part I know it so well It is full of the very nicest people Do you know Sir Harry Otway—a Radical if ever there was
Very well indeed
And old Mrs Butterworth the philanthropist Why she rents a field of us How funny
Miss Lavish looked at the narrow ribbon of sky and murmured Oh you have property in Surrey
Hardly any said Lucy fearful of being thought a snob Only thirty acres—just the garden all downhill and some fields
Miss Lavish was not disgusted and said it was just the size of her aunts Suffolk estate Italy receded They tried to remember the last name of Lady Louisa some one who had taken a house near Summer Street the other year but she had not liked it which was odd of her And just as Miss Lavish had got the name she broke off and exclaimed
Bless us Bless us and save us Weve lost the way
Certainly they had seemed a long time in reaching Santa Croce the tower of which had been plainly visible from the landing window But Miss Lavish had said so much about knowing her Florence by heart that Lucy had followed her with no misgivings
Lost lost My dear Miss Lucy during our political diatribes we have taken a wrong turning How those horrid Conservatives would jeer at us What are we to do Two lone females in an unknown town Now this is what I call an adventure
Lucy who wanted to see Santa Croce suggested as a possible solution that they should ask the way there
Oh but that is the word of a craven And no you are not not NOT to look at your Baedeker Give it to me I shant let you carry it We will simply drift
Accordingly they drifted through a series of those greybrown streets neither commodious nor picturesque in which the eastern quarter of the city abounds Lucy soon lost interest in the discontent of Lady Louisa and became discontented herself For one ravishing moment Italy appeared She stood in the Square of the Annunziata and saw in the living terracotta those divine babies whom no cheap reproduction can ever stale There they stood with their shining limbs bursting from the garments of charity and their strong white arms extended against circlets of heaven Lucy thought she had never seen anything more beautiful but Miss Lavish with a shriek of dismay dragged her forward declaring that they were out of their path now by at least a mile
The hour was approaching at which the continental breakfast begins or rather ceases to tell and the ladies bought some hot chestnut paste out of a little shop because it looked so typical It tasted partly of the paper in which it was wrapped partly of hair oil partly of the great unknown But it gave them strength to drift into another Piazza large and dusty on the farther side of which rose a blackandwhite facade of surpassing ugliness Miss Lavish spoke to it dramatically It was Santa Croce The adventure was over
Stop a minute let those two people go on or I shall have to speak to them I do detest conventional intercourse Nasty they are going into the church too Oh the Britisher abroad
We sat opposite them at dinner last night They have given us their rooms They were so very kind
Look at their figures laughed Miss Lavish They walk through my Italy like a pair of cows Its very naughty of me but I would like to set an examination paper at Dover and turn back every tourist who couldnt pass it
What would you ask us
Miss Lavish laid her hand pleasantly on Lucys arm as if to suggest that she at all events would get full marks In this exalted mood they reached the steps of the great church and were about to enter it when Miss Lavish stopped squeaked flung up her arms and cried
There goes my localcolour box I must have a word with him
And in a moment she was away over the Piazza her military cloak flapping in the wind nor did she slacken speed till she caught up an old man with white whiskers and nipped him playfully upon the arm
Lucy waited for nearly ten minutes Then she began to get tired The beggars worried her the dust blew in her eyes and she remembered that a young girl ought not to loiter in public places She descended slowly into the Piazza with the intention of rejoining Miss Lavish who was really almost too original But at that moment Miss Lavish and her localcolour box moved also and disappeared down a side street both gesticulating largely Tears of indignation came to Lucys eyes partly because Miss Lavish had jilted her partly because she had taken her Baedeker How could she find her way home How could she find her way about in Santa Croce Her first morning was ruined and she might never be in Florence again A few minutes ago she had been all high spirits talking as a woman of culture and half persuading herself that she was full of originality Now she entered the church depressed and humiliated not even able to remember whether it was built by the Franciscans or the Dominicans Of course it must be a wonderful building But how like a barn And how very cold Of course it contained frescoes by Giotto in the presence of whose tactile values she was capable of feeling what was proper But who was to tell her which they were She walked about disdainfully unwilling to be enthusiastic over monuments of uncertain authorship or date There was no one even to tell her which of all the sepulchral slabs that paved the nave and transepts was the one that was really beautiful the one that had been most praised by Mr Ruskin
Then the pernicious charm of Italy worked on her and instead of acquiring information she began to be happy She puzzled out the Italian notices—the notices that forbade people to introduce dogs into the church—the notice that prayed people in the interest of health and out of respect to the sacred edifice in which they found themselves not to spit She watched the tourists their noses were as red as their Baedekers so cold was Santa Croce She beheld the horrible fate that overtook three Papists—two hebabies and a shebaby—who began their career by sousing each other with the Holy Water and then proceeded to the Machiavelli memorial dripping but hallowed Advancing towards it very slowly and from immense distances they touched the stone with their fingers with their handkerchiefs with their heads and then retreated What could this mean They did it again and again Then Lucy realized that they had mistaken Machiavelli for some saint hoping to acquire virtue Punishment followed quickly The smallest hebaby stumbled over one of the sepulchral slabs so much admired by Mr Ruskin and entangled his feet in the features of a recumbent bishop Protestant as she was Lucy darted forward She was too late He fell heavily upon the prelates upturned toes
Hateful bishop exclaimed the voice of old Mr Emerson who had darted forward also Hard in life hard in death Go out into the sunshine little boy and kiss your hand to the sun for that is where you ought to be Intolerable bishop
The child screamed frantically at these words and at these dreadful people who picked him up dusted him rubbed his bruises and told him not to be superstitious
Look at him said Mr Emerson to Lucy Heres a mess a baby hurt cold and frightened But what else can you expect from a church
The childs legs had become as melting wax Each time that old Mr Emerson and Lucy set it erect it collapsed with a roar Fortunately an Italian lady who ought to have been saying her prayers came to the rescue By some mysterious virtue which mothers alone possess she stiffened the little boys backbone and imparted strength to his knees He stood Still gibbering with agitation he walked away
You are a clever woman said Mr Emerson You have done more than all the relics in the world I am not of your creed but I do believe in those who make their fellowcreatures happy There is no scheme of the universe—
He paused for a phrase
Niente said the Italian lady and returned to her prayers
Im not sure she understands English suggested Lucy
In her chastened mood she no longer despised the Emersons She was determined to be gracious to them beautiful rather than delicate and if possible to erase Miss Bartletts civility by some gracious reference to the pleasant rooms
That woman understands everything was Mr Emersons reply But what are you doing here Are you doing the church Are you through with the church
No cried Lucy remembering her grievance I came here with Miss Lavish who was to explain everything and just by the door—it is too bad—she simply ran away and after waiting quite a time I had to come in by myself
Why shouldnt you said Mr Emerson
Yes why shouldnt you come by yourself said the son addressing the young lady for the first time
But Miss Lavish has even taken away Baedeker
Baedeker said Mr Emerson Im glad its THAT you minded Its worth minding the loss of a Baedeker THATS worth minding
Lucy was puzzled She was again conscious of some new idea and was not sure whither it would lead her
If youve no Baedeker said the son youd better join us Was this where the idea would lead She took refuge in her dignity
Thank you very much but I could not think of that I hope you do not suppose that I came to join on to you I really came to help with the child and to thank you for so kindly giving us your rooms last night I hope that you have not been put to any great inconvenience
My dear said the old man gently I think that you are repeating what you have heard older people say You are pretending to be touchy but you are not really Stop being so tiresome and tell me instead what part of the church you want to see To take you to it will be a real pleasure
Now this was abominably impertinent and she ought to have been furious But it is sometimes as difficult to lose ones temper as it is difficult at other times to keep it Lucy could not get cross Mr Emerson was an old man and surely a girl might humour him On the other hand his son was a young man and she felt that a girl ought to be offended with him or at all events be offended before him It was at him that she gazed before replying
I am not touchy I hope It is the Giottos that I want to see if you will kindly tell me which they are
The son nodded With a look of sombre satisfaction he led the way to the Peruzzi Chapel There was a hint of the teacher about him She felt like a child in school who had answered a question rightly
The chapel was already filled with an earnest congregation and out of them rose the voice of a lecturer directing them how to worship Giotto not by tactful valuations but by the standards of the spirit
Remember he was saying the facts about this church of Santa Croce how it was built by faith in the full fervour of medievalism before any taint of the Renaissance had appeared Observe how Giotto in these frescoes—now unhappily ruined by restoration—is untroubled by the snares of anatomy and perspective Could anything be more majestic more pathetic beautiful true How little we feel avails knowledge and technical cleverness against a man who truly feels
No exclaimed Mr Emerson in much too loud a voice for church Remember nothing of the sort Built by faith indeed That simply means the workmen werent paid properly And as for the frescoes I see no truth in them Look at that fat man in blue He must weigh as much as I do and he is shooting into the sky like an air balloon
He was referring to the fresco of the Ascension of St John Inside the lecturers voice faltered as well it might The audience shifted uneasily and so did Lucy She was sure that she ought not to be with these men but they had cast a spell over her They were so serious and so strange that she could not remember how to behave
Now did this happen or didnt it Yes or no
George replied
It happened like this if it happened at all I would rather go up to heaven by myself than be pushed by cherubs and if I got there I should like my friends to lean out of it just as they do here
You will never go up said his father You and I dear boy will lie at peace in the earth that bore us and our names will disappear as surely as our work survives
Some of the people can only see the empty grave not the saint whoever he is going up It did happen like that if it happened at all
Pardon me said a frigid voice The chapel is somewhat small for two parties We will incommode you no longer
The lecturer was a clergyman and his audience must be also his flock for they held prayerbooks as well as guidebooks in their hands They filed out of the chapel in silence Amongst them were the two little old ladies of the Pension Bertolini—Miss Teresa and Miss Catherine Alan
Stop cried Mr Emerson Theres plenty of room for us all Stop
The procession disappeared without a word
Soon the lecturer could be heard in the next chapel describing the life of St Francis
George I do believe that clergyman is the Brixton curate
George went into the next chapel and returned saying Perhaps he is I dont remember
Then I had better speak to him and remind him who I am Its that Mr Eager Why did he go Did we talk too loud How vexatious I shall go and say we are sorry Hadnt I better Then perhaps he will come back
He will not come back said George
But Mr Emerson contrite and unhappy hurried away to apologize to the Rev Cuthbert Eager Lucy apparently absorbed in a lunette could hear the lecture again interrupted the anxious aggressive voice of the old man the curt injured replies of his opponent The son who took every little contretemps as if it were a tragedy was listening also
My father has that effect on nearly every one he informed her He will try to be kind
I hope we all try said she smiling nervously
Because we think it improves our characters But he is kind to people because he loves them and they find him out and are offended or frightened
How silly of them said Lucy though in her heart she sympathized I think that a kind action done tactfully—
Tact
He threw up his head in disdain Apparently she had given the wrong answer She watched the singular creature pace up and down the chapel For a young man his face was rugged and—until the shadows fell upon it—hard Enshadowed it sprang into tenderness She saw him once again at Rome on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel carrying a burden of acorns Healthy and muscular he yet gave her the feeling of greyness of tragedy that might only find solution in the night The feeling soon passed it was unlike her to have entertained anything so subtle Born of silence and of unknown emotion it passed when Mr Emerson returned and she could reenter the world of rapid talk which was alone familiar to her
Were you snubbed asked his son tranquilly
But we have spoilt the pleasure of I dont know how many people They wont come back
full of innate sympathyquickness to perceive good in othersvision of the brotherhood of man Scraps of the lecture on St Francis came floating round the partition wall
Dont let us spoil yours he continued to Lucy Have you looked at those saints
Yes said Lucy They are lovely Do you know which is the tombstone that is praised in Ruskin
He did not know and suggested that they should try to guess it George rather to her relief refused to move and she and the old man wandered not unpleasantly about Santa Croce which though it is like a barn has harvested many beautiful things inside its walls There were also beggars to avoid and guides to dodge round the pillars and an old lady with her dog and here and there a priest modestly edging to his Mass through the groups of tourists But Mr Emerson was only half interested He watched the lecturer whose success he believed he had impaired and then he anxiously watched his son
Why will he look at that fresco he said uneasily I saw nothing in it
I like Giotto she replied It is so wonderful what they say about his tactile values Though I like things like the Della Robbia babies better
So you ought A baby is worth a dozen saints And my babys worth the whole of Paradise and as far as I can see he lives in Hell
Lucy again felt that this did not do
In Hell he repeated Hes unhappy
Oh dear said Lucy
How can he be unhappy when he is strong and alive What more is one to give him And think how he has been brought up—free from all the superstition and ignorance that lead men to hate one another in the name of God With such an education as that I thought he was bound to grow up happy
She was no theologian but she felt that here was a very foolish old man as well as a very irreligious one She also felt that her mother might not like her talking to that kind of person and that Charlotte would object most strongly
What are we to do with him he asked He comes out for his holiday to Italy and behaves—like that like the little child who ought to have been playing and who hurt himself upon the tombstone Eh What did you say
Lucy had made no suggestion Suddenly he said
Now dont be stupid over this I dont require you to fall in love with my boy but I do think you might try and understand him You are nearer his age and if you let yourself go I am sure you are sensible You might help me He has known so few women and you have the time You stop here several weeks I suppose But let yourself go You are inclined to get muddled if I may judge from last night Let yourself go Pull out from the depths those thoughts that you do not understand and spread them out in the sunlight and know the meaning of them By understanding George you may learn to understand yourself It will be good for both of you
To this extraordinary speech Lucy found no answer
I only know what it is thats wrong with him not why it is
And what is it asked Lucy fearfully expecting some harrowing tale
The old trouble things wont fit
What things
The things of the universe It is quite true They dont
Oh Mr Emerson whatever do you mean
In his ordinary voice so that she scarcely realized he was quoting poetry he said
From far from eve and morning
And yon twelvewinded sky
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither here am I
George and I both know this but why does it distress him We know that we come from the winds and that we shall return to them that all life is perhaps a knot a tangle a blemish in the eternal smoothness But why should this make us unhappy Let us rather love one another, and work and rejoice I dont believe in this world sorrow
Miss Honeychurch assented
Then make my boy think like us Make him realize that by the side of the everlasting Why there is a Yes—a transitory Yes if you like but a Yes
Suddenly she laughed surely one ought to laugh A young man melancholy because the universe wouldnt fit because life was a tangle or a wind or a Yes or something
Im very sorry she cried Youll think me unfeeling but—but— Then she became matronly Oh but your son wants employment Has he no particular hobby Why I myself have worries but I can generally forget them at the piano and collecting stamps did no end of good for my brother Perhaps Italy bores him you ought to try the Alps or the Lakes
The old mans face saddened and he touched her gently with his hand This did not alarm her she thought that her advice had impressed him and that he was thanking her for it Indeed he no longer alarmed her at all she regarded him as a kind thing but quite silly Her feelings were as inflated spiritually as they had been an hour ago esthetically before she lost Baedeker The dear George now striding towards them over the tombstones seemed both pitiable and absurd He approached his face in the shadow He said
Miss Bartlett
Oh good gracious me said Lucy suddenly collapsing and again seeing the whole of life in a new perspective Where Where
In the nave
I see Those gossiping little Miss Alans must have— She checked herself
Poor girl exploded Mr Emerson Poor girl
She could not let this pass for it was just what she was feeling herself
Poor girl I fail to understand the point of that remark I think myself a very fortunate girl I assure you Im thoroughly happy and having a splendid time Pray dont waste time mourning over me Theres enough sorrow in the world isnt there without trying to invent it Goodbye Thank you both so much for all your kindness Ah yes there does come my cousin A delightful morning Santa Croce is a wonderful church
She joined her cousin
Chapter III Music Violets and the Letter S
It so happened that Lucy who found daily life rather chaotic entered a more solid world when she opened the piano She was then no longer either deferential or patronizing no longer either a rebel or a slave The kingdom of music is not the kingdom of this world it will accept those whom breeding and intellect and culture have alike rejected The commonplace person begins to play and shoots into the empyrean without effort whilst we look up marvelling how he has escaped us and thinking how we could worship him and love him would he but translate his visions into human words and his experiences into human actions Perhaps he cannot certainly he does not or does so very seldom Lucy had done so never
She was no dazzling executante her runs were not at all like strings of pearls and she struck no more right notes than was suitable for one of her age and situation Nor was she the passionate young lady who performs so tragically on a summers evening with the window open Passion was there but it could not be easily labelled it slipped between love and hatred and jealousy and all the furniture of the pictorial style And she was tragical only in the sense that she was great for she loved to play on the side of Victory Victory of what and over what—that is more than the words of daily life can tell us But that some sonatas of Beethoven are written tragic no one can gainsay yet they can triumph or despair as the player decides and Lucy had decided that they should triumph
A very wet afternoon at the Bertolini permitted her to do the thing she really liked and after lunch she opened the little draped piano A few people lingered round and praised her playing but finding that she made no reply dispersed to their rooms to write up their diaries or to sleep She took no notice of Mr Emerson looking for his son nor of Miss Bartlett looking for Miss Lavish nor of Miss Lavish looking for her cigarettecase Like every true performer she was intoxicated by the mere feel of the notes they were fingers caressing her own and by touch not by sound alone did she come to her desire
Mr Beebe sitting unnoticed in the window pondered this illogical element in Miss Honeychurch and recalled the occasion at Tunbridge Wells when he had discovered it It was at one of those entertainments where the upper classes entertain the lower The seats were filled with a respectful audience and the ladies and gentlemen of the parish under the auspices of their vicar sang or recited or imitated the drawing of a champagne cork Among the promised items was Miss Honeychurch Piano Beethoven and Mr Beebe was wondering whether it would be Adelaida or the march of The Ruins of Athens when his composure was disturbed by the opening bars of Opus III He was in suspense all through the introduction for not until the pace quickens does one know what the performer intends With the roar of the opening theme he knew that things were going extraordinarily in the chords that herald the conclusion he heard the hammer strokes of victory He was glad that she only played the first movement for he could have paid no attention to the winding intricacies of the measures of ninesixteen The audience clapped no less respectful It was Mr Beebe who started the stamping it was all that one could do
Who is she he asked the vicar afterwards
Cousin of one of my parishioners I do not consider her choice of a piece happy Beethoven is so usually simple and direct in his appeal that it is sheer perversity to choose a thing like that which if anything disturbs
Introduce me
She will be delighted She and Miss Bartlett are full of the praises of your sermon
My sermon cried Mr Beebe Why ever did she listen to it
When he was introduced he understood why for Miss Honeychurch disjoined from her music stool was only a young lady with a quantity of dark hair and a very pretty pale undeveloped face She loved going to concerts she loved stopping with her cousin she loved iced coffee and meringues He did not doubt that she loved his sermon also But before he left Tunbridge Wells he made a remark to the vicar which he now made to Lucy herself when she closed the little piano and moved dreamily towards him
If Miss Honeychurch ever takes to live as she plays it will be very exciting both for us and for her
Lucy at once reentered daily life
Oh what a funny thing Some one said just the same to mother and she said she trusted I should never live a duet
Doesnt Mrs Honeychurch like music
She doesnt mind it But she doesnt like one to get excited over anything she thinks I am silly about it She thinks—I cant make out Once you know I said that I liked my own playing better than any ones She has never got over it Of course I didnt mean that I played well I only meant—
Of course said he wondering why she bothered to explain
Music— said Lucy as if attempting some generality She could not complete it and looked out absently upon Italy in the wet The whole life of the South was disorganized and the most graceful nation in Europe had turned into formless lumps of clothes
The street and the river were dirty yellow the bridge was dirty grey and the hills were dirty purple Somewhere in their folds were concealed Miss Lavish and Miss Bartlett who had chosen this afternoon to visit the Torre del Gallo
What about music said Mr Beebe
Poor Charlotte will be sopped was Lucys reply
The expedition was typical of Miss Bartlett who would return cold tired hungry and angelic with a ruined skirt a pulpy Baedeker and a tickling cough in her throat On another day when the whole world was singing and the air ran into the mouth like wine she would refuse to stir from the drawingroom saying that she was an old thing and no fit companion for a hearty girl
Miss Lavish has led your cousin astray She hopes to find the true Italy in the wet I believe
Miss Lavish is so original murmured Lucy This was a stock remark the supreme achievement of the Pension Bertolini in the way of definition Miss Lavish was so original Mr Beebe had his doubts but they would have been put down to clerical narrowness For that and for other reasons he held his peace
Is it true continued Lucy in awestruck tone that Miss Lavish is writing a book
They do say so
What is it about
It will be a novel replied Mr Beebe dealing with modern Italy Let me refer you for an account to Miss Catharine Alan who uses words herself more admirably than any one I know
I wish Miss Lavish would tell me herself We started such friends But I dont think she ought to have run away with Baedeker that morning in Santa Croce Charlotte was most annoyed at finding me practically alone and so I couldnt help being a little annoyed with Miss Lavish
The two ladies at all events have made it up
He was interested in the sudden friendship between women so apparently dissimilar as Miss Bartlett and Miss Lavish They were always in each others company with Lucy a slighted third Miss Lavish he believed he understood but Miss Bartlett might reveal unknown depths of strangeness though not perhaps of meaning Was Italy deflecting her from the path of prim chaperon which he had assigned to her at Tunbridge Wells All his life he had loved to study maiden ladies they were his specialty and his profession had provided him with ample opportunities for the work Girls like Lucy were charming to look at but Mr Beebe was from rather profound reasons somewhat chilly in his attitude towards the other sex and preferred to be interested rather than enthralled
Lucy for the third time said that poor Charlotte would be sopped The Arno was rising in flood washing away the traces of the little carts upon the foreshore But in the southwest there had appeared a dull haze of yellow which might mean better weather if it did not mean worse She opened the window to inspect and a cold blast entered the room drawing a plaintive cry from Miss Catharine Alan who entered at the same moment by the door
Oh dear Miss Honeychurch you will catch a chill And Mr Beebe here besides Who would suppose this is Italy There is my sister actually nursing the hotwater can no comforts or proper provisions
She sidled towards them and sat down selfconscious as she always was on entering a room which contained one man or a man and one woman
I could hear your beautiful playing Miss Honeychurch though I was in my room with the door shut Doors shut indeed most necessary No one has the least idea of privacy in this country And one person catches it from another
Lucy answered suitably Mr Beebe was not able to tell the ladies of his adventure at Modena where the chambermaid burst in upon him in his bath exclaiming cheerfully Fa niente sono vecchia He contented himself with saying I quite agree with you Miss Alan The Italians are a most unpleasant people They pry everywhere they see everything and they know what we want before we know it ourselves We are at their mercy They read our thoughts, they foretell our desires From the cabdriver down to—to Giotto they turn us inside out and I resent it Yet in their heart of hearts they are—how superficial They have no conception of the intellectual life How right is Signora Bertolini who exclaimed to me the other day Ho Mr Beebe if you knew what I suffer over the childrens edjucaishion HI wont ave my little Victorier taught by a hignorant Italian what cant explain nothink
Miss Alan did not follow but gathered that she was being mocked in an agreeable way Her sister was a little disappointed in Mr Beebe having expected better things from a clergyman whose head was bald and who wore a pair of russet whiskers Indeed who would have supposed that tolerance sympathy and a sense of humour would inhabit that militant form
In the midst of her satisfaction she continued to sidle and at last the cause was disclosed From the chair beneath her she extracted a gunmetal cigarettecase on which were powdered in turquoise the initials E L
That belongs to Lavish said the clergyman A good fellow Lavish but I wish shed start a pipe
Oh Mr Beebe said Miss Alan divided between awe and mirth Indeed though it is dreadful for her to smoke it is not quite as dreadful as you suppose She took to it practically in despair after her lifes work was carried away in a landslip Surely that makes it more excusable
What was that asked Lucy
Mr Beebe sat back complacently and Miss Alan began as follows It was a novel—and I am afraid from what I can gather not a very nice novel It is so sad when people who have abilities misuse them and I must say they nearly always do Anyhow she left it almost finished in the Grotto of the Calvary at the Capuccini Hotel at Amalfi while she went for a little ink She said Can I have a little ink please But you know what Italians are and meanwhile the Grotto fell roaring on to the beach and the saddest thing of all is that she cannot remember what she has written The poor thing was very ill after it and so got tempted into cigarettes It is a great secret but I am glad to say that she is writing another novel She told Teresa and Miss Pole the other day that she had got up all the local colour—this novel is to be about modern Italy the other was historical—but that she could not start till she had an idea First she tried Perugia for an inspiration then she came here—this must on no account get round And so cheerful through it all I cannot help thinking that there is something to admire in every one even if you do not approve of them
Miss Alan was always thus being charitable against her better judgment A delicate pathos perfumed her disconnected remarks giving them unexpected beauty just as in the decaying autumn woods there sometimes rise odours reminiscent of spring She felt she had made almost too many allowances and apologized hurriedly for her toleration
All the same she is a little too—I hardly like to say unwomanly but she behaved most strangely when the Emersons arrived
Mr Beebe smiled as Miss Alan plunged into an anecdote which he knew she would be unable to finish in the presence of a gentleman
I dont know Miss Honeychurch if you have noticed that Miss Pole the lady who has so much yellow hair takes lemonade That old Mr Emerson who puts things very strangely—
Her jaw dropped She was silent Mr Beebe whose social resources were endless went out to order some tea and she continued to Lucy in a hasty whisper
Stomach He warned Miss Pole of her stomachacidity he called it—and he may have meant to be kind I must say I forgot myself and laughed it was so sudden As Teresa truly said it was no laughing matter But the point is that Miss Lavish was positively ATTRACTED by his mentioning S and said she liked plain speaking and meeting different grades of thought She thought they were commercial travellers—drummers was the word she used—and all through dinner she tried to prove that England our great and beloved country rests on nothing but commerce Teresa was very much annoyed and left the table before the cheese saying as she did so There Miss Lavish is one who can confute you better than I and pointed to that beautiful picture of Lord Tennyson Then Miss Lavish said Tut The early Victorians Just imagine Tut The early Victorians My sister had gone and I felt bound to speak I said Miss Lavish I am an early Victorian at least that is to say I will hear no breath of censure against our dear Queen It was horrible speaking I reminded her how the Queen had been to Ireland when she did not want to go and I must say she was dumbfounded and made no reply But unluckily Mr Emerson overheard this part and called in his deep voice Quite so quite so I honour the woman for her Irish visit The woman I tell things so badly but you see what a tangle we were in by this time all on account of S having been mentioned in the first place But that was not all After dinner Miss Lavish actually came up and said Miss Alan I am going into the smokingroom to talk to those two nice men Come too Needless to say I refused such an unsuitable invitation and she had the impertinence to tell me that it would broaden my ideas, and said that she had four brothers all University men except one who was in the army who always made a point of talking to commercial travellers
Let me finish the story said Mr Beebe who had returned
Miss Lavish tried Miss Pole myself every one and finally said I shall go alone She went At the end of five minutes she returned unobtrusively with a green baize board and began playing patience
Whatever happened cried Lucy
No one knows No one will ever know Miss Lavish will never dare to tell and Mr Emerson does not think it worth telling
Mr Beebe—old Mr Emerson is he nice or not nice I do so want to know
Mr Beebe laughed and suggested that she should settle the question for herself
No but it is so difficult Sometimes he is so silly and then I do not mind him Miss Alan what do you think Is he nice
The little old lady shook her head and sighed disapprovingly Mr Beebe whom the conversation amused stirred her up by saying
I consider that you are bound to class him as nice Miss Alan after that business of the violets
Violets Oh dear Who told you about the violets How do things get round A pension is a bad place for gossips No I cannot forget how they behaved at Mr Eagers lecture at Santa Croce Oh poor Miss Honeychurch It really was too bad No I have quite changed I do NOT like the Emersons They are not nice
Mr Beebe smiled nonchalantly He had made a gentle effort to introduce the Emersons into Bertolini society and the effort had failed He was almost the only person who remained friendly to them Miss Lavish who represented intellect was avowedly hostile and now the Miss Alans who stood for good breeding were following her Miss Bartlett smarting under an obligation would scarcely be civil The case of Lucy was different She had given him a hazy account of her adventures in Santa Croce and he gathered that the two men had made a curious and possibly concerted attempt to annex her to show her the world from their own strange standpoint to interest her in their private sorrows and joys This was impertinent he did not wish their cause to be championed by a young girl he would rather it should fail After all he knew nothing about them and pension joys pension sorrows are flimsy things whereas Lucy would be his parishioner
Lucy with one eye upon the weather finally said that she thought the Emersons were nice not that she saw anything of them now Even their seats at dinner had been moved
But arent they always waylaying you to go out with them dear said the little lady inquisitively
Only once Charlotte didnt like it and said something—quite politely of course
Most right of her They dont understand our ways They must find their level
Mr Beebe rather felt that they had gone under They had given up their attempt—if it was one—to conquer society and now the father was almost as silent as the son He wondered whether he would not plan a pleasant day for these folk before they left—some expedition perhaps with Lucy well chaperoned to be nice to them It was one of Mr Beebes chief pleasures to provide people with happy memories
Evening approached while they chatted the air became brighter the colours on the trees and hills were purified and the Arno lost its muddy solidity and began to twinkle There were a few streaks of bluishgreen among the clouds a few patches of watery light upon the earth and then the dripping facade of San Miniato shone brilliantly in the declining sun
Too late to go out said Miss Alan in a voice of relief All the galleries are shut
I think I shall go out said Lucy I want to go round the town in the circular tram—on the platform by the driver
Her two companions looked grave Mr Beebe who felt responsible for her in the absence of Miss Bartlett ventured to say
I wish we could Unluckily I have letters If you do want to go out alone wont you be better on your feet
Italians dear you know said Miss Alan
Perhaps I shall meet some one who reads me through and through
But they still looked disapproval and she so far conceded to Mr Beebe as to say that she would only go for a little walk and keep to the street frequented by tourists
She oughtnt really to go at all said Mr Beebe as they watched her from the window and she knows it I put it down to too much Beethoven
Chapter IV Fourth Chapter
Mr Beebe was right Lucy never knew her desires so clearly as after music She had not really appreciated the clergymans wit nor the suggestive twitterings of Miss Alan Conversation was tedious she wanted something big and she believed that it would have come to her on the windswept platform of an electric tram This she might not attempt It was unladylike Why Why were most big things unladylike Charlotte had once explained to her why It was not that ladies were inferior to men it was that they were different Their mission was to inspire others to achievement rather than to achieve themselves Indirectly by means of tact and a spotless name a lady could accomplish much But if she rushed into the fray herself she would be first censured then despised and finally ignored Poems had been written to illustrate this point
There is much that is immortal in this medieval lady The dragons have gone and so have the knights but still she lingers in our midst She reigned in many an early Victorian castle and was Queen of much early Victorian song It is sweet to protect her in the intervals of business sweet to pay her honour when she has cooked our dinner well But alas the creature grows degenerate In her heart also there are springing up strange desires She too is enamoured of heavy winds and vast panoramas and green expanses of the sea She has marked the kingdom of this world how full it is of wealth and beauty and war—a radiant crust built around the central fires spinning towards the receding heavens Men declaring that she inspires them to it move joyfully over the surface having the most delightful meetings with other men happy not because they are masculine but because they are alive Before the show breaks up she would like to drop the august title of the Eternal Woman and go there as her transitory self
Lucy does not stand for the medieval lady who was rather an ideal to which she was bidden to lift her eyes when feeling serious Nor has she any system of revolt Here and there a restriction annoyed her particularly and she would transgress it and perhaps be sorry that she had done so This afternoon she was peculiarly restive She would really like to do something of which her wellwishers disapproved As she might not go on the electric tram she went to Alinaris shop
There she bought a photograph of Botticellis Birth of Venus Venus being a pity spoilt the picture otherwise so charming and Miss Bartlett had persuaded her to do without it A pity in art of course signified the nude Giorgiones Tempesta the Idolino some of the Sistine frescoes and the Apoxyomenos were added to it She felt a little calmer then and bought Fra Angelicos Coronation Giottos Ascension of St John some Della Robbia babies and some Guido Reni Madonnas For her taste was catholic and she extended uncritical approval to every wellknown name
But though she spent nearly seven lire the gates of liberty seemed still unopened She was conscious of her discontent it was new to her to be conscious of it The world she thought is certainly full of beautiful things if only I could come across them It was not surprising that Mrs Honeychurch disapproved of music declaring that it always left her daughter peevish unpractical and touchy
Nothing ever happens to me she reflected as she entered the Piazza Signoria and looked nonchalantly at its marvels now fairly familiar to her The great square was in shadow the sunshine had come too late to strike it Neptune was already unsubstantial in the twilight half god half ghost and his fountain plashed dreamily to the men and satyrs who idled together on its marge The Loggia showed as the triple entrance of a cave wherein many a deity shadowy but immortal looking forth upon the arrivals and departures of mankind It was the hour of unreality—the hour that is when unfamiliar things are real An older person at such an hour and in such a place might think that sufficient was happening to him and rest content Lucy desired more
She fixed her eyes wistfully on the tower of the palace which rose out of the lower darkness like a pillar of roughened gold It seemed no longer a tower no longer supported by earth but some unattainable treasure throbbing in the tranquil sky Its brightness mesmerized her still dancing before her eyes when she bent them to the ground and started towards home
Then something did happen
Two Italians by the Loggia had been bickering about a debt Cinque lire they had cried cinque lire They sparred at each other and one of them was hit lightly upon the chest He frowned he bent towards Lucy with a look of interest as if he had an important message for her He opened his lips to deliver it and a stream of red came out between them and trickled down his unshaven chin
That was all A crowd rose out of the dusk It hid this extraordinary man from her and bore him away to the fountain Mr George Emerson happened to be a few paces away looking at her across the spot where the man had been How very odd Across something Even as she caught sight of him he grew dim the palace itself grew dim swayed above her fell on to her softly slowly noiselessly and the sky fell with it
She thought Oh what have I done
Oh what have I done she murmured and opened her eyes
George Emerson still looked at her but not across anything She had complained of dullness and lo one man was stabbed and another held her in his arms
They were sitting on some steps in the Uffizi Arcade He must have carried her He rose when she spoke and began to dust his knees She repeated
Oh what have I done
You fainted
I—I am very sorry
How are you now
Perfectly well—absolutely well And she began to nod and smile
Then let us come home Theres no point in our stopping
He held out his hand to pull her up She pretended not to see it The cries from the fountain—they had never ceased—rang emptily The whole world seemed pale and void of its original meaning
How very kind you have been I might have hurt myself falling But now I am well I can go alone thank you
His hand was still extended
Oh my photographs she exclaimed suddenly
What photographs
I bought some photographs at Alinaris I must have dropped them out there in the square She looked at him cautiously Would you add to your kindness by fetching them
He added to his kindness As soon as he had turned his back Lucy arose with the running of a maniac and stole down the arcade towards the Arno
Miss Honeychurch
She stopped with her hand on her heart
You sit still you arent fit to go home alone
Yes I am thank you so very much
No you arent Youd go openly if you were
But I had rather—
Then I dont fetch your photographs
I had rather be alone
He said imperiously The man is dead—the man is probably dead sit down till you are rested She was bewildered and obeyed him And dont move till I come back
In the distance she saw creatures with black hoods such as appear in dreams The palace tower had lost the reflection of the declining day and joined itself to earth How should she talk to Mr Emerson when he returned from the shadowy square Again the thought occurred to her Oh what have I done—the thought that she as well as the dying man had crossed some spiritual boundary
He returned and she talked of the murder Oddly enough it was an easy topic She spoke of the Italian character she became almost garrulous over the incident that had made her faint five minutes before Being strong physically she soon overcame the horror of blood She rose without his assistance and though wings seemed to flutter inside her she walked firmly enough towards the Arno There a cabman signalled to them they refused him
And the murderer tried to kiss him you say—how very odd Italians are—and gave himself up to the police Mr Beebe was saying that Italians know everything but I think they are rather childish When my cousin and I were at the Pitti yesterday—What was that
He had thrown something into the stream
What did you throw in
Things I didnt want he said crossly
Mr Emerson
Well
Where are the photographs
He was silent
I believe it was my photographs that you threw away
I didnt know what to do with them he cried and his voice was that of an anxious boy Her heart warmed towards him for the first time They were covered with blood There Im glad Ive told you and all the time we were making conversation I was wondering what to do with them He pointed downstream Theyve gone The river swirled under the bridge I did mind them so and one is so foolish it seemed better that they should go out to the sea—I dont know I may just mean that they frightened me Then the boy verged into a man For something tremendous has happened I must face it without getting muddled It isnt exactly that a man has died
Something warned Lucy that she must stop him
It has happened he repeated and I mean to find out what it is
Mr Emerson—
He turned towards her frowning as if she had disturbed him in some abstract quest
I want to ask you something before we go in
They were close to their pension She stopped and leant her elbows against the parapet of the embankment He did likewise There is at times a magic in identity of position it is one of the things that have suggested to us eternal comradeship She moved her elbows before saying
I have behaved ridiculously
He was following his own thoughts
I was never so much ashamed of myself in my life I cannot think what came over me
I nearly fainted myself he said but she felt that her attitude repelled him
Well I owe you a thousand apologies
Oh all right
And—this is the real point—you know how silly people are gossiping—ladies especially I am afraid—you understand what I mean
Im afraid I dont
I mean would you not mention it to any one my foolish behaviour
Your behaviour Oh yes all right—all right
Thank you so much And would you—
She could not carry her request any further The river was rushing below them almost black in the advancing night He had thrown her photographs into it and then he had told her the reason It struck her that it was hopeless to look for chivalry in such a man He would do her no harm by idle gossip he was trustworthy intelligent and even kind he might even have a high opinion of her But he lacked chivalry his thoughts like his behaviour would not be modified by awe It was useless to say to him And would you— and hope that he would complete the sentence for himself averting his eyes from her nakedness like the knight in that beautiful picture She had been in his arms and he remembered it just as he remembered the blood on the photographs that she had bought in Alinaris shop It was not exactly that a man had died something had happened to the living they had come to a situation where character tells and where childhood enters upon the branching paths of Youth
Well thank you so much she repeated How quickly these accidents do happen and then one returns to the old life
I dont
Anxiety moved her to question him
His answer was puzzling I shall probably want to live
But why Mr Emerson What do you mean
I shall want to live I say
Leaning her elbows on the parapet she contemplated the River Arno whose roar was suggesting some unexpected melody to her ears
Chapter V Possibilities of a Pleasant Outing
It was a family saying that you never knew which way Charlotte Bartlett would turn She was perfectly pleasant and sensible over Lucys adventure found the abridged account of it quite adequate and paid suitable tribute to the courtesy of Mr George Emerson She and Miss Lavish had had an adventure also They had been stopped at the Dazio coming back and the young officials there who seemed impudent and desoeuvre had tried to search their reticules for provisions It might have been most unpleasant Fortunately Miss Lavish was a match for any one
For good or for evil Lucy was left to face her problem alone None of her friends had seen her either in the Piazza or later on by the embankment Mr Beebe indeed noticing her startled eyes at dinnertime had again passed to himself the remark of Too much Beethoven But he only supposed that she was ready for an adventure not that she had encountered it This solitude oppressed her she was accustomed to have her thoughts confirmed by others or at all events contradicted it was too dreadful not to know whether she was thinking right or wrong
At breakfast next morning she took decisive action There were two plans between which she had to choose Mr Beebe was walking up to the Torre del Gallo with the Emersons and some American ladies Would Miss Bartlett and Miss Honeychurch join the party Charlotte declined for herself she had been there in the rain the previous afternoon But she thought it an admirable idea for Lucy who hated shopping changing money fetching letters and other irksome duties—all of which Miss Bartlett must accomplish this morning and could easily accomplish alone
No Charlotte cried the girl with real warmth Its very kind of Mr Beebe but I am certainly coming with you I had much rather
Very well dear said Miss Bartlett with a faint flush of pleasure that called forth a deep flush of shame on the cheeks of Lucy How abominably she behaved to Charlotte now as always But now she should alter All morning she would be really nice to her
She slipped her arm into her cousins and they started off along the Lung Arno The river was a lion that morning in strength voice and colour Miss Bartlett insisted on leaning over the parapet to look at it She then made her usual remark which was How I do wish Freddy and your mother could see this too
Lucy fidgeted it was tiresome of Charlotte to have stopped exactly where she did
Look Lucia Oh you are watching for the Torre del Gallo party I feared you would repent you of your choice
Serious as the choice had been Lucy did not repent Yesterday had been a muddle—queer and odd the kind of thing one could not write down easily on paper—but she had a feeling that Charlotte and her shopping were preferable to George Emerson and the summit of the Torre del Gallo Since she could not unravel the tangle she must take care not to reenter it She could protest sincerely against Miss Bartletts insinuations
But though she had avoided the chief actor the scenery unfortunately remained Charlotte with the complacency of fate led her from the river to the Piazza Signoria She could not have believed that stones a Loggia a fountain a palace tower would have such significance For a moment she understood the nature of ghosts
The exact site of the murder was occupied not by a ghost but by Miss Lavish who had the morning newspaper in her hand She hailed them briskly The dreadful catastrophe of the previous day had given her an idea which she thought would work up into a book
Oh let me congratulate you said Miss Bartlett After your despair of yesterday What a fortunate thing
Aha Miss Honeychurch come you here I am in luck Now you are to tell me absolutely everything that you saw from the beginning Lucy poked at the ground with her parasol
But perhaps you would rather not
Im sorry—if you could manage without it I think I would rather not
The elder ladies exchanged glances not of disapproval it is suitable that a girl should feel deeply
It is I who am sorry said Miss Lavish literary hacks are shameless creatures I believe theres no secret of the human heart into which we wouldnt pry
She marched cheerfully to the fountain and back and did a few calculations in realism Then she said that she had been in the Piazza since eight oclock collecting material A good deal of it was unsuitable but of course one always had to adapt The two men had quarrelled over a fivefranc note For the fivefranc note she should substitute a young lady which would raise the tone of the tragedy and at the same time furnish an excellent plot
What is the heroines name asked Miss Bartlett
Leonora said Miss Lavish her own name was Eleanor
I do hope shes nice
That desideratum would not be omitted
And what is the plot
Love murder abduction revenge was the plot But it all came while the fountain plashed to the satyrs in the morning sun
I hope you will excuse me for boring on like this Miss Lavish concluded It is so tempting to talk to really sympathetic people Of course this is the barest outline There will be a deal of local colouring descriptions of Florence and the neighbourhood and I shall also introduce some humorous characters And let me give you all fair warning I intend to be unmerciful to the British tourist
Oh you wicked woman cried Miss Bartlett I am sure you are thinking of the Emersons
Miss Lavish gave a Machiavellian smile
I confess that in Italy my sympathies are not with my own countrymen It is the neglected Italians who attract me and whose lives I am going to paint so far as I can For I repeat and I insist and I have always held most strongly that a tragedy such as yesterdays is not the less tragic because it happened in humble life
There was a fitting silence when Miss Lavish had concluded Then the cousins wished success to her labours and walked slowly away across the square
She is my idea of a really clever woman said Miss Bartlett That last remark struck me as so particularly true It should be a most pathetic novel
Lucy assented At present her great aim was not to get put into it Her perceptions this morning were curiously keen and she believed that Miss Lavish had her on trial for an ingenue
She is emancipated but only in the very best sense of the word continued Miss Bartlett slowly None but the superficial would be shocked at her We had a long talk yesterday She believes in justice and truth and human interest She told me also that she has a high opinion of the destiny of woman—Mr Eager Why how nice What a pleasant surprise
Ah not for me said the chaplain blandly for I have been watching you and Miss Honeychurch for quite a little time
We were chatting to Miss Lavish
His brow contracted
So I saw Were you indeed Andate via sono occupato The last remark was made to a vender of panoramic photographs who was approaching with a courteous smile I am about to venture a suggestion Would you and Miss Honeychurch be disposed to join me in a drive some day this week—a drive in the hills We might go up by Fiesole and back by Settignano There is a point on that road where we could get down and have an hours ramble on the hillside The view thence of Florence is most beautiful—far better than the hackneyed view of Fiesole It is the view that Alessio Baldovinetti is fond of introducing into his pictures That man had a decided feeling for landscape Decidedly But who looks at it today Ah the world is too much for us
Miss Bartlett had not heard of Alessio Baldovinetti but she knew that Mr Eager was no commonplace chaplain He was a member of the residential colony who had made Florence their home He knew the people who never walked about with Baedekers who had learnt to take a siesta after lunch who took drives the pension tourists had never heard of and saw by private influence galleries which were closed to them Living in delicate seclusion some in furnished flats others in Renaissance villas on Fiesoles slope they read wrote studied and exchanged ideas thus attaining to that intimate knowledge or rather perception of Florence which is denied to all who carry in their pockets the coupons of Cook
Therefore an invitation from the chaplain was something to be proud of Between the two sections of his flock he was often the only link and it was his avowed custom to select those of his migratory sheep who seemed worthy and give them a few hours in the pastures of the permanent Tea at a Renaissance villa Nothing had been said about it yet But if it did come to that—how Lucy would enjoy it
A few days ago and Lucy would have felt the same But the joys of life were grouping themselves anew A drive in the hills with Mr Eager and Miss Bartlett—even if culminating in a residential teaparty—was no longer the greatest of them She echoed the raptures of Charlotte somewhat faintly Only when she heard that Mr Beebe was also coming did her thanks become more sincere
So we shall be a partie carree said the chaplain In these days of toil and tumult one has great needs of the country and its message of purity Andate via andate presto presto Ah the town Beautiful as it is it is the town
They assented
This very square—so I am told—witnessed yesterday the most sordid of tragedies To one who loves the Florence of Dante and Savonarola there is something portentous in such desecration—portentous and humiliating
Humiliating indeed said Miss Bartlett Miss Honeychurch happened to be passing through as it happened She can hardly bear to speak of it She glanced at Lucy proudly
And how came we to have you here asked the chaplain paternally
Miss Bartletts recent liberalism oozed away at the question Do not blame her please Mr Eager The fault is mine I left her unchaperoned
So you were here alone Miss Honeychurch His voice suggested sympathetic reproof but at the same time indicated that a few harrowing details would not be unacceptable His dark handsome face drooped mournfully towards her to catch her reply
Practically
One of our pension acquaintances kindly brought her home said Miss Bartlett adroitly concealing the sex of the preserver
For her also it must have been a terrible experience I trust that neither of you was at all—that it was not in your immediate proximity
Of the many things Lucy was noticing today not the least remarkable was this the ghoulish fashion in which respectable people will nibble after blood George Emerson had kept the subject strangely pure
He died by the fountain I believe was her reply
And you and your friend—
Were over at the Loggia
That must have saved you much You have not of course seen the disgraceful illustrations which the gutter Press—This man is a public nuisance he knows that I am a resident perfectly well and yet he goes on worrying me to buy his vulgar views
Surely the vendor of photographs was in league with Lucy—in the eternal league of Italy with youth He had suddenly extended his book before Miss Bartlett and Mr Eager binding their hands together by a long glossy ribbon of churches pictures and views
This is too much cried the chaplain striking petulantly at one of Fra Angelicos angels She tore A shrill cry rose from the vendor The book it seemed was more valuable than one would have supposed
Willingly would I purchase— began Miss Bartlett
Ignore him said Mr Eager sharply and they all walked rapidly away from the square
But an Italian can never be ignored least of all when he has a grievance His mysterious persecution of Mr Eager became relentless the air rang with his threats and lamentations He appealed to Lucy would not she intercede He was poor—he sheltered a family—the tax on bread He waited he gibbered he was recompensed he was dissatisfied he did not leave them until he had swept their minds clean of all thoughts whether pleasant or unpleasant
Shopping was the topic that now ensued Under the chaplains guidance they selected many hideous presents and mementoes—florid little pictureframes that seemed fashioned in gilded pastry other little frames more severe that stood on little easels and were carven out of oak a blotting book of vellum a Dante of the same material cheap mosaic brooches which the maids next Christmas would never tell from real pins pots heraldic saucers brown artphotographs Eros and Psyche in alabaster St Peter to match—all of which would have cost less in London
This successful morning left no pleasant impressions on Lucy She had been a little frightened both by Miss Lavish and by Mr Eager she knew not why And as they frightened her she had strangely enough ceased to respect them She doubted that Miss Lavish was a great artist She doubted that Mr Eager was as full of spirituality and culture as she had been led to suppose They were tried by some new test and they were found wanting As for Charlotte—as for Charlotte she was exactly the same It might be possible to be nice to her it was impossible to love her
The son of a labourer I happen to know it for a fact A mechanic of some sort himself when he was young then he took to writing for the Socialistic Press I came across him at Brixton
They were talking about the Emersons
How wonderfully people rise in these days sighed Miss Bartlett fingering a model of the leaning Tower of Pisa
Generally replied Mr Eager one has only sympathy for their success The desire for education and for social advance—in these things there is something not wholly vile There are some working men whom one would be very willing to see out here in Florence—little as they would make of it
Is he a journalist now Miss Bartlett asked He is not he made an advantageous marriage
He uttered this remark with a voice full of meaning and ended with a sigh
Oh so he has a wife
Dead Miss Bartlett dead I wonder—yes I wonder how he has the effrontery to look me in the face to dare to claim acquaintance with me He was in my London parish long ago The other day in Santa Croce when he was with Miss Honeychurch I snubbed him Let him beware that he does not get more than a snub
What cried Lucy flushing
Exposure hissed Mr Eager
He tried to change the subject but in scoring a dramatic point he had interested his audience more than he had intended Miss Bartlett was full of very natural curiosity Lucy though she wished never to see the Emersons again was not disposed to condemn them on a single word
Do you mean she asked that he is an irreligious man We know that already
Lucy dear— said Miss Bartlett gently reproving her cousins penetration
I should be astonished if you knew all The boy—an innocent child at the time—I will exclude God knows what his education and his inherited qualities may have made him
Perhaps said Miss Bartlett it is something that we had better not hear
To speak plainly said Mr Eager it is I will say no more For the first time Lucys rebellious thoughts swept out in words—for the first time in her life
You have said very little
It was my intention to say very little was his frigid reply
He gazed indignantly at the girl who met him with equal indignation She turned towards him from the shop counter her breast heaved quickly He observed her brow and the sudden strength of her lips It was intolerable that she should disbelieve him
Murder if you want to know he cried angrily That man murdered his wife
How she retorted
To all intents and purposes he murdered her That day in Santa Croce—did they say anything against me
Not a word Mr Eager—not a single word
Oh I thought they had been libelling me to you But I suppose it is only their personal charms that makes you defend them
Im not defending them said Lucy losing her courage and relapsing into the old chaotic methods Theyre nothing to me
How could you think she was defending them said Miss Bartlett much discomfited by the unpleasant scene The shopman was possibly listening
She will find it difficult For that man has murdered his wife in the sight of God
The addition of God was striking But the chaplain was really trying to qualify a rash remark A silence followed which might have been impressive but was merely awkward Then Miss Bartlett hastily purchased the Leaning Tower and led the way into the street
I must be going said he shutting his eyes and taking out his watch
Miss Bartlett thanked him for his kindness and spoke with enthusiasm of the approaching drive
Drive Oh is our drive to come off
Lucy was recalled to her manners and after a little exertion the complacency of Mr Eager was restored
Bother the drive exclaimed the girl as soon as he had departed It is just the drive we had arranged with Mr Beebe without any fuss at all Why should he invite us in that absurd manner We might as well invite him We are each paying for ourselves
Miss Bartlett who had intended to lament over the Emersons was launched by this remark into unexpected thoughts
If that is so dear—if the drive we and Mr Beebe are going with Mr Eager is really the same as the one we are going with Mr Beebe then I foresee a sad kettle of fish
How
Because Mr Beebe has asked Eleanor Lavish to come too
That will mean another carriage
Far worse Mr Eager does not like Eleanor She knows it herself The truth must be told she is too unconventional for him
They were now in the newspaperroom at the English bank Lucy stood by the central table heedless of Punch and the Graphic trying to answer or at all events to formulate the questions rioting in her brain The wellknown world had broken up and there emerged Florence a magic city where people thought and did the most extraordinary things Murder accusations of murder A lady clinging to one man and being rude to another—were these the daily incidents of her streets Was there more in her frank beauty than met the eye—the power perhaps to evoke passions good and bad and to bring them speedily to a fulfillment
Happy Charlotte who though greatly troubled over things that did not matter seemed oblivious to things that did who could conjecture with admirable delicacy where things might lead to but apparently lost sight of the goal as she approached it Now she was crouching in the corner trying to extract a circular note from a kind of linen nosebag which hung in chaste concealment round her neck She had been told that this was the only safe way to carry money in Italy it must only be broached within the walls of the English bank As she groped she murmured Whether it is Mr Beebe who forgot to tell Mr Eager or Mr Eager who forgot when he told us or whether they have decided to leave Eleanor out altogether—which they could scarcely do—but in any case we must be prepared It is you they really want I am only asked for appearances You shall go with the two gentlemen and I and Eleanor will follow behind A onehorse carriage would do for us Yet how difficult it is
It is indeed replied the girl with a gravity that sounded sympathetic
What do you think about it asked Miss Bartlett flushed from the struggle and buttoning up her dress
I dont know what I think nor what I want
Oh dear Lucy I do hope Florence isnt boring you Speak the word and as you know I would take you to the ends of the earth tomorrow
Thank you Charlotte said Lucy and pondered over the offer
There were letters for her at the bureau—one from her brother full of athletics and biology one from her mother delightful as only her mothers letters could be She had read in it of the crocuses which had been bought for yellow and were coming up puce of the new parlourmaid who had watered the ferns with essence of lemonade of the semidetached cottages which were ruining Summer Street and breaking the heart of Sir Harry Otway She recalled the free pleasant life of her home where she was allowed to do everything and where nothing ever happened to her The road up through the pinewoods the clean drawingroom the view over the Sussex Weald—all hung before her bright and distinct but pathetic as the pictures in a gallery to which after much experience a traveller returns
And the news asked Miss Bartlett
Mrs Vyse and her son have gone to Rome said Lucy giving the news that interested her least Do you know the Vyses
Oh not that way back We can never have too much of the dear Piazza Signoria
Theyre nice people the Vyses So clever—my idea of whats really clever Dont you long to be in Rome
I die for it
The Piazza Signoria is too stony to be brilliant It has no grass no flowers no frescoes no glittering walls of marble or comforting patches of ruddy brick By an odd chance—unless we believe in a presiding genius of places—the statues that relieve its severity suggest not the innocence of childhood nor the glorious bewilderment of youth but the conscious achievements of maturity Perseus and Judith Hercules and Thusnelda they have done or suffered something and though they are immortal immortality has come to them after experience not before Here not only in the solitude of Nature, might a hero meet a goddess or a heroine a god
Charlotte cried the girl suddenly Heres an idea What if we popped off to Rome tomorrow—straight to the Vyses hotel For I do know what I want Im sick of Florence No you said youd go to the ends of the earth Do Do
Miss Bartlett with equal vivacity replied
Oh you droll person Pray what would become of your drive in the hills
They passed together through the gaunt beauty of the square laughing over the unpractical suggestion
Chapter VI The Reverend Arthur Beebe the Reverend Cuthbert Eager Mr Emerson Mr George Emerson Miss Eleanor Lavish Miss Charlotte Bartlett and Miss Lucy Honeychurch Drive Out in Carriages to See a View Italians Drive Them
It was Phaethon who drove them to Fiesole that memorable day a youth all irresponsibility and fire recklessly urging his masters horses up the stony hill Mr Beebe recognized him at once Neither the Ages of Faith nor the Age of Doubt had touched him he was Phaethon in Tuscany driving a cab And it was Persephone whom he asked leave to pick up on the way saying that she was his sister—Persephone tall and slender and pale returning with the Spring to her mothers cottage and still shading her eyes from the unaccustomed light To her Mr Eager objected saying that here was the thin edge of the wedge and one must guard against imposition But the ladies interceded and when it had been made clear that it was a very great favour the goddess was allowed to mount beside the god
Phaethon at once slipped the left rein over her head thus enabling himself to drive with his arm round her waist She did not mind Mr Eager who sat with his back to the horses saw nothing of the indecorous proceeding and continued his conversation with Lucy The other two occupants of the carriage were old Mr Emerson and Miss Lavish For a dreadful thing had happened Mr Beebe without consulting Mr Eager had doubled the size of the party And though Miss Bartlett and Miss Lavish had planned all the morning how the people were to sit at the critical moment when the carriages came round they lost their heads and Miss Lavish got in with Lucy while Miss Bartlett with George Emerson and Mr Beebe followed on behind
It was hard on the poor chaplain to have his partie carree thus transformed Tea at a Renaissance villa if he had ever meditated it was now impossible Lucy and Miss Bartlett had a certain style about them and Mr Beebe though unreliable was a man of parts. But a shoddy lady writer and a journalist who had murdered his wife in the sight of God—they should enter no villa at his introduction
Lucy elegantly dressed in white sat erect and nervous amid these explosive ingredients attentive to Mr Eager repressive towards Miss Lavish watchful of old Mr Emerson hitherto fortunately asleep thanks to a heavy lunch and the drowsy atmosphere of Spring She looked on the expedition as the work of Fate But for it she would have avoided George Emerson successfully In an open manner he had shown that he wished to continue their intimacy She had refused not because she disliked him but because she did not know what had happened and suspected that he did know And this frightened her
For the real event—whatever it was—had taken place not in the Loggia but by the river To behave wildly at the sight of death is pardonable But to discuss it afterwards to pass from discussion into silence and through silence into sympathy that is an error not of a startled emotion but of the whole fabric There was really something blameworthy she thought in their joint contemplation of the shadowy stream in the common impulse which had turned them to the house without the passing of a look or word This sense of wickedness had been slight at first She had nearly joined the party to the Torre del Gallo But each time that she avoided George it became more imperative that she should avoid him again And now celestial irony working through her cousin and two clergymen did not suffer her to leave Florence till she had made this expedition with him through the hills
Meanwhile Mr Eager held her in civil converse their little tiff was over
So Miss Honeychurch you are travelling As a student of art
Oh dear me no—oh no
Perhaps as a student of human nature interposed Miss Lavish like myself
Oh no I am here as a tourist
Oh indeed said Mr Eager Are you indeed If you will not think me rude we residents sometimes pity you poor tourists not a little—handed about like a parcel of goods from Venice to Florence from Florence to Rome living herded together in pensions or hotels quite unconscious of anything that is outside Baedeker their one anxiety to get done or through and go on somewhere else The result is they mix up towns rivers palaces in one inextricable whirl You know the American girl in Punch who says Say poppa what did we see at Rome And the father replies Why guess Rome was the place where we saw the yaller dog Theres travelling for you Ha ha ha
I quite agree said Miss Lavish who had several times tried to interrupt his mordant wit The narrowness and superficiality of the AngloSaxon tourist is nothing less than a menace
Quite so Now the English colony at Florence Miss Honeychurch—and it is of considerable size though of course not all equally—a few are here for trade for example. But the greater part are students Lady Helen Laverstock is at present busy over Fra Angelico I mention her name because we are passing her villa on the left No you can only see it if you stand—no do not stand you will fall She is very proud of that thick hedge Inside perfect seclusion One might have gone back six hundred years Some critics believe that her garden was the scene of The Decameron which lends it an additional interest does it not
It does indeed cried Miss Lavish Tell me where do they place the scene of that wonderful seventh day
But Mr Eager proceeded to tell Miss Honeychurch that on the right lived Mr Someone Something an American of the best type—so rare—and that the Somebody Elses were farther down the hill Doubtless you know her monographs in the series of Mediaeval Byways He is working at Gemistus Pletho Sometimes as I take tea in their beautiful grounds I hear over the wall the electric tram squealing up the new road with its loads of hot dusty unintelligent tourists who are going to do Fiesole in an hour in order that they may say they have been there and I think—think—I think how little they think what lies so near them
During this speech the two figures on the box were sporting with each other disgracefully Lucy had a spasm of envy Granted that they wished to misbehave it was pleasant for them to be able to do so They were probably the only people enjoying the expedition The carriage swept with agonizing jolts up through the Piazza of Fiesole and into the Settignano road
Piano piano said Mr Eager elegantly waving his hand over his head
Va bene signore va bene va bene crooned the driver and whipped his horses up again
Now Mr Eager and Miss Lavish began to talk against each other on the subject of Alessio Baldovinetti Was he a cause of the Renaissance or was he one of its manifestations The other carriage was left behind As the pace increased to a gallop the large slumbering form of Mr Emerson was thrown against the chaplain with the regularity of a machine
Piano piano said he with a martyred look at Lucy
An extra lurch made him turn angrily in his seat Phaethon who for some time had been endeavouring to kiss Persephone had just succeeded
A little scene ensued which as Miss Bartlett said afterwards was most unpleasant The horses were stopped the lovers were ordered to disentangle themselves the boy was to lose his pourboire the girl was immediately to get down
She is my sister said he turning round on them with piteous eyes
Mr Eager took the trouble to tell him that he was a liar
Phaethon hung down his head not at the matter of the accusation but at its manner At this point Mr Emerson whom the shock of stopping had awoke declared that the lovers must on no account be separated and patted them on the back to signify his approval And Miss Lavish though unwilling to ally him felt bound to support the cause of Bohemianism
Most certainly I would let them be she cried But I dare say I shall receive scant support I have always flown in the face of the conventions all my life This is what I call an adventure
We must not submit said Mr Eager I knew he was trying it on He is treating us as if we were a party of Cooks tourists
Surely no said Miss Lavish her ardour visibly decreasing
The other carriage had drawn up behind and sensible Mr Beebe called out that after this warning the couple would be sure to behave themselves properly
Leave them alone Mr Emerson begged the chaplain of whom he stood in no awe Do we find happiness so often that we should turn it off the box when it happens to sit there To be driven by lovers—A king might envy us and if we part them its more like sacrilege than anything I know
Here the voice of Miss Bartlett was heard saying that a crowd had begun to collect
Mr Eager who suffered from an overfluent tongue rather than a resolute will was determined to make himself heard He addressed the driver again Italian in the mouth of Italians is a deepvoiced stream with unexpected cataracts and boulders to preserve it from monotony In Mr Eagers mouth it resembled nothing so much as an acid whistling fountain which played ever higher and higher and quicker and quicker and more and more shrilly till abruptly it was turned off with a click
Signorina said the man to Lucy when the display had ceased Why should he appeal to Lucy
Signorina echoed Persephone in her glorious contralto She pointed at the other carriage Why
For a moment the two girls looked at each other Then Persephone got down from the box
Victory at last said Mr Eager smiting his hands together as the carriages started again
It is not victory said Mr Emerson It is defeat You have parted two people who were happy
Mr Eager shut his eyes He was obliged to sit next to Mr Emerson but he would not speak to him The old man was refreshed by sleep and took up the matter warmly He commanded Lucy to agree with him he shouted for support to his son
We have tried to buy what cannot be bought with money He has bargained to drive us and he is doing it We have no rights over his soul
Miss Lavish frowned It is hard when a person you have classed as typically British speaks out of his character
He was not driving us well she said He jolted us
That I deny It was as restful as sleeping Aha he is jolting us now Can you wonder He would like to throw us out and most certainly he is justified And if I were superstitious Id be frightened of the girl too It doesnt do to injure young people Have you ever heard of Lorenzo de Medici
Miss Lavish bristled
Most certainly I have Do you refer to Lorenzo il Magnifico or to Lorenzo Duke of Urbino or to Lorenzo surnamed Lorenzino on account of his diminutive stature
The Lord knows Possibly he does know for I refer to Lorenzo the poet He wrote a line—so I heard yesterday—which runs like this Dont go fighting against the Spring
Mr Eager could not resist the opportunity for erudition
Non fate guerra al Maggio he murmured War not with the May would render a correct meaning
The point is we have warred with it Look He pointed to the Val dArno which was visible far below them through the budding trees Fifty miles of Spring and weve come up to admire them Do you suppose theres any difference between Spring in nature and Spring in man But there we go praising the one and condemning the other as improper ashamed that the same work eternally through both
No one encouraged him to talk Presently Mr Eager gave a signal for the carriages to stop and marshalled the party for their ramble on the hill A hollow like a great amphitheatre full of terraced steps and misty olives now lay between them and the heights of Fiesole and the road still following its curve was about to sweep on to a promontory which stood out in the plain It was this promontory uncultivated wet covered with bushes and occasional trees which had caught the fancy of Alessio Baldovinetti nearly five hundred years before He had ascended it that diligent and rather obscure master possibly with an eye to business possibly for the joy of ascending Standing there he had seen that view of the Val dArno and distant Florence which he afterwards had introduced not very effectively into his work But where exactly had he stood That was the question which Mr Eager hoped to solve now And Miss Lavish whose nature was attracted by anything problematical had become equally enthusiastic
But it is not easy to carry the pictures of Alessio Baldovinetti in your head even if you have remembered to look at them before starting And the haze in the valley increased the difficulty of the quest
The party sprang about from tuft to tuft of grass their anxiety to keep together being only equalled by their desire to go different directions Finally they split into groups Lucy clung to Miss Bartlett and Miss Lavish the Emersons returned to hold laborious converse with the drivers while the two clergymen who were expected to have topics in common were left to each other
The two elder ladies soon threw off the mask In the audible whisper that was now so familiar to Lucy they began to discuss not Alessio Baldovinetti but the drive Miss Bartlett had asked Mr George Emerson what his profession was and he had answered the railway She was very sorry that she had asked him She had no idea that it would be such a dreadful answer or she would not have asked him Mr Beebe had turned the conversation so cleverly and she hoped that the young man was not very much hurt at her asking him
The railway gasped Miss Lavish Oh but I shall die Of course it was the railway She could not control her mirth He is the image of a porter—on on the SouthEastern
Eleanor be quiet plucking at her vivacious companion Hush Theyll hear—the Emersons—
I cant stop Let me go my wicked way A porter—
Eleanor
Im sure its all right put in Lucy The Emersons wont hear and they wouldnt mind if they did
Miss Lavish did not seem pleased at this
Miss Honeychurch listening she said rather crossly Pouf Wouf You naughty girl Go away
Oh Lucy you ought to be with Mr Eager Im sure
I cant find them now and I dont want to either
Mr Eager will be offended It is your party
Please Id rather stop here with you
No I agree said Miss Lavish Its like a school feast the boys have got separated from the girls Miss Lucy you are to go We wish to converse on high topics unsuited for your ear
The girl was stubborn As her time at Florence drew to its close she was only at ease amongst those to whom she felt indifferent Such a one was Miss Lavish and such for the moment was Charlotte She wished she had not called attention to herself they were both annoyed at her remark and seemed determined to get rid of her
How tired one gets said Miss Bartlett Oh I do wish Freddy and your mother could be here
Unselfishness with Miss Bartlett had entirely usurped the functions of enthusiasm Lucy did not look at the view either She would not enjoy anything till she was safe at Rome
Then sit you down said Miss Lavish Observe my foresight
With many a smile she produced two of those mackintosh squares that protect the frame of the tourist from damp grass or cold marble steps She sat on one who was to sit on the other
Lucy without a moments doubt Lucy The ground will do for me Really I have not had rheumatism for years If I do feel it coming on I shall stand Imagine your mothers feelings if I let you sit in the wet in your white linen She sat down heavily where the ground looked particularly moist Here we are all settled delightfully Even if my dress is thinner it will not show so much being brown Sit down dear you are too unselfish you dont assert yourself enough She cleared her throat Now dont be alarmed this isnt a cold Its the tiniest cough and I have had it three days Its nothing to do with sitting here at all
There was only one way of treating the situation At the end of five minutes Lucy departed in search of Mr Beebe and Mr Eager vanquished by the mackintosh square
She addressed herself to the drivers who were sprawling in the carriages perfuming the cushions with cigars The miscreant a bony young man scorched black by the sun rose to greet her with the courtesy of a host and the assurance of a relative
Dove said Lucy after much anxious thought
His face lit up Of course he knew where Not so far either His arm swept threefourths of the horizon He should just think he did know where He pressed his fingertips to his forehead and then pushed them towards her as if oozing with visible extract of knowledge.
More seemed necessary What was the Italian for clergyman
Dove buoni uomini said she at last
Good Scarcely the adjective for those noble beings He showed her his cigar
Uno—piu—piccolo was her next remark implying Has the cigar been given to you by Mr Beebe the smaller of the two good men
She was correct as usual He tied the horse to a tree kicked it to make it stay quiet dusted the carriage arranged his hair remoulded his hat encouraged his moustache and in rather less than a quarter of a minute was ready to conduct her Italians are born knowing the way It would seem that the whole earth lay before them not as a map but as a chessboard whereon they continually behold the changing pieces as well as the squares Any one can find places but the finding of people is a gift from God
He only stopped once to pick her some great blue violets She thanked him with real pleasure In the company of this common man the world was beautiful and direct For the first time she felt the influence of Spring His arm swept the horizon gracefully violets like other things existed in great profusion there would she like to see them
Ma buoni uomini
He bowed Certainly Good men first violets afterwards They proceeded briskly through the undergrowth which became thicker and thicker They were nearing the edge of the promontory and the view was stealing round them but the brown network of the bushes shattered it into countless pieces He was occupied in his cigar and in holding back the pliant boughs She was rejoicing in her escape from dullness Not a step not a twig was unimportant to her
What is that
There was a voice in the wood in the distance behind them The voice of Mr Eager He shrugged his shoulders An Italians ignorance is sometimes more remarkable than his knowledge She could not make him understand that perhaps they had missed the clergymen The view was forming at last she could discern the river the golden plain other hills
Eccolo he exclaimed
At the same moment the ground gave way and with a cry she fell out of the wood Light and beauty enveloped her She had fallen on to a little open terrace which was covered with violets from end to end
Courage cried her companion now standing some six feet above Courage and love
She did not answer From her feet the ground sloped sharply into view and violets ran down in rivulets and streams and cataracts irrigating the hillside with blue eddying round the tree stems collecting into pools in the hollows covering the grass with spots of azure foam But never again were they in such profusion this terrace was the wellhead the primal source whence beauty gushed out to water the earth
Standing at its brink like a swimmer who prepares was the good man But he was not the good man that she had expected and he was alone
George had turned at the sound of her arrival For a moment he contemplated her as one who had fallen out of heaven He saw radiant joy in her face he saw the flowers beat against her dress in blue waves The bushes above them closed He stepped quickly forward and kissed her
Before she could speak almost before she could feel a voice called Lucy Lucy Lucy The silence of life had been broken by Miss Bartlett who stood brown against the view
Chapter VII They Return
Some complicated game had been playing up and down the hillside all the afternoon What it was and exactly how the players had sided Lucy was slow to discover Mr Eager had met them with a questioning eye Charlotte had repulsed him with much small talk Mr Emerson seeking his son was told whereabouts to find him Mr Beebe who wore the heated aspect of a neutral was bidden to collect the factions for the return home There was a general sense of groping and bewilderment Pan had been amongst them—not the great god Pan who has been buried these two thousand years but the little god Pan who presides over social contretemps and unsuccessful picnics Mr Beebe had lost every one and had consumed in solitude the teabasket which he had brought up as a pleasant surprise Miss Lavish had lost Miss Bartlett Lucy had lost Mr Eager Mr Emerson had lost George Miss Bartlett had lost a mackintosh square Phaethon had lost the game
That last fact was undeniable He climbed on to the box shivering with his collar up prophesying the swift approach of bad weather Let us go immediately he told them The signorino will walk
All the way He will be hours said Mr Beebe
Apparently I told him it was unwise He would look no one in the face perhaps defeat was particularly mortifying for him He alone had played skilfully using the whole of his instinct while the others had used scraps of their intelligence He alone had divined what things were and what he wished them to be He alone had interpreted the message that Lucy had received five days before from the lips of a dying man Persephone who spends half her life in the grave—she could interpret it also Not so these English They gain knowledge slowly and perhaps too late
The thoughts of a cabdriver however just seldom affect the lives of his employers He was the most competent of Miss Bartletts opponents but infinitely the least dangerous Once back in the town he and his insight and his knowledge would trouble English ladies no more Of course it was most unpleasant she had seen his black head in the bushes he might make a tavern story out of it But after all what have we to do with taverns Real menace belongs to the drawingroom It was of drawingroom people that Miss Bartlett thought as she journeyed downwards towards the fading sun Lucy sat beside her Mr Eager sat opposite trying to catch her eye he was vaguely suspicious They spoke of Alessio Baldovinetti
Rain and darkness came on together The two ladies huddled together under an inadequate parasol There was a lightning flash and Miss Lavish who was nervous screamed from the carriage in front At the next flash Lucy screamed also Mr Eager addressed her professionally
Courage Miss Honeychurch courage and faith If I might say so there is something almost blasphemous in this horror of the elements Are we seriously to suppose that all these clouds all this immense electrical display is simply called into existence to extinguish you or me
No—of course—
Even from the scientific standpoint the chances against our being struck are enormous The steel knives the only articles which might attract the current are in the other carriage And in any case we are infinitely safer than if we were walking Courage—courage and faith
Under the rug Lucy felt the kindly pressure of her cousins hand At times our need for a sympathetic gesture is so great that we care not what exactly it signifies or how much we may have to pay for it afterwards Miss Bartlett by this timely exercise of her muscles gained more than she would have got in hours of preaching or cross examination
She renewed it when the two carriages stopped half into Florence
Mr Eager called Mr Beebe We want your assistance Will you interpret for us
George cried Mr Emerson Ask your driver which way George went The boy may lose his way He may be killed
Go Mr Eager said Miss Bartlett dont ask our driver our driver is no help Go and support poor Mr Beebe— he is nearly demented
He may be killed cried the old man He may be killed
Typical behaviour said the chaplain as he quitted the carriage In the presence of reality that kind of person invariably breaks down
What does he know whispered Lucy as soon as they were alone Charlotte how much does Mr Eager know
Nothing dearest he knows nothing But— she pointed at the driverHE knows everything Dearest had we better Shall I She took out her purse It is dreadful to be entangled with lowclass people He saw it all Tapping Phaethons back with her guidebook she said Silenzio and offered him a franc
Va bene he replied and accepted it As well this ending to his day as any But Lucy a mortal maid was disappointed in him
There was an explosion up the road The storm had struck the overhead wire of the tramline and one of the great supports had fallen If they had not stopped perhaps they might have been hurt They chose to regard it as a miraculous preservation and the floods of love and sincerity which fructify every hour of life burst forth in tumult They descended from the carriages they embraced each other It was as joyful to be forgiven past unworthinesses as to forgive them For a moment they realized vast possibilities of good
The older people recovered quickly In the very height of their emotion they knew it to be unmanly or unladylike Miss Lavish calculated that even if they had continued they would not have been caught in the accident Mr Eager mumbled a temperate prayer But the drivers through miles of dark squalid road poured out their souls to the dryads and the saints and Lucy poured out hers to her cousin
Charlotte dear Charlotte kiss me Kiss me again Only you can understand me You warned me to be careful And I—I thought I was developing
Do not cry dearest Take your time
I have been obstinate and silly—worse than you know far worse Once by the river—Oh but he isnt killed—he wouldnt be killed would he
The thought disturbed her repentance As a matter of fact, the storm was worst along the road but she had been near danger and so she thought it must be near to every one
I trust not One would always pray against that
He is really—I think he was taken by surprise just as I was before But this time Im not to blame I want you to believe that I simply slipped into those violets No I want to be really truthful I am a little to blame I had silly thoughts The sky you know was gold and the ground all blue and for a moment he looked like some one in a book
In a book
Heroes—gods—the nonsense of schoolgirls
And then
But Charlotte you know what happened then
Miss Bartlett was silent Indeed she had little more to learn With a certain amount of insight she drew her young cousin affectionately to her All the way back Lucys body was shaken by deep sighs which nothing could repress
I want to be truthful she whispered It is so hard to be absolutely truthful
Dont be troubled dearest Wait till you are calmer We will talk it over before bedtime in my room
So they reentered the city with hands clasped It was a shock to the girl to find how far emotion had ebbed in others The storm had ceased and Mr Emerson was easier about his son Mr Beebe had regained good humour and Mr Eager was already snubbing Miss Lavish Charlotte alone she was sure of—Charlotte whose exterior concealed so much insight and love
The luxury of self-exposure kept her almost happy through the long evening She thought not so much of what had happened as of how she should describe it All her sensations her spasms of courage her moments of unreasonable joy her mysterious discontent should be carefully laid before her cousin And together in divine confidence they would disentangle and interpret them all
At last thought she I shall understand myself I shant again be troubled by things that come out of nothing and mean I dont know what
Miss Alan asked her to play She refused vehemently Music seemed to her the employment of a child She sat close to her cousin who with commendable patience was listening to a long story about lost luggage When it was over she capped it by a story of her own Lucy became rather hysterical with the delay In vain she tried to check or at all events to accelerate the tale It was not till a late hour that Miss Bartlett had recovered her luggage and could say in her usual tone of gentle reproach
Well dear I at all events am ready for Bedfordshire Come into my room and I will give a good brush to your hair
With some solemnity the door was shut and a cane chair placed for the girl Then Miss Bartlett said So what is to be done
She was unprepared for the question It had not occurred to her that she would have to do anything A detailed exhibition of her emotions was all that she had counted upon
What is to be done A point dearest which you alone can settle
The rain was streaming down the black windows and the great room felt damp and chilly One candle burnt trembling on the chest of drawers close to Miss Bartletts toque which cast monstrous and fantastic shadows on the bolted door A tram roared by in the dark and Lucy felt unaccountably sad though she had long since dried her eyes She lifted them to the ceiling where the griffins and bassoons were colourless and vague the very ghosts of joy
It has been raining for nearly four hours she said at last
Miss Bartlett ignored the remark
How do you propose to silence him
The driver
My dear girl no Mr George Emerson
Lucy began to pace up and down the room
I dont understand she said at last
She understood very well but she no longer wished to be absolutely truthful
How are you going to stop him talking about it
I have a feeling that talk is a thing he will never do
I too intend to judge him charitably But unfortunately I have met the type before They seldom keep their exploits to themselves
Exploits cried Lucy wincing under the horrible plural
My poor dear did you suppose that this was his first Come here and listen to me I am only gathering it from his own remarks Do you remember that day at lunch when he argued with Miss Alan that liking one person is an extra reason for liking another
Yes said Lucy whom at the time the argument had pleased
Well I am no prude There is no need to call him a wicked young man but obviously he is thoroughly unrefined Let us put it down to his deplorable antecedents and education if you wish But we are no farther on with our question What do you propose to do
An idea rushed across Lucys brain which had she thought of it sooner and made it part of her might have proved victorious
I propose to speak to him said she
Miss Bartlett uttered a cry of genuine alarm
You see Charlotte your kindness—I shall never forget it But—as you said—it is my affair Mine and his
And you are going to IMPLORE him to BEG him to keep silence
Certainly not There would be no difficulty Whatever you ask him he answers yes or no then it is over I have been frightened of him But now I am not one little bit
But we fear him for you dear You are so young and inexperienced you have lived among such nice people that you cannot realize what men can be—how they can take a brutal pleasure in insulting a woman whom her sex does not protect and rally round This afternoon for example, if I had not arrived what would have happened
I cant think said Lucy gravely
Something in her voice made Miss Bartlett repeat her question intoning it more vigorously
What would have happened if I hadnt arrived
I cant think said Lucy again
When he insulted you how would you have replied
I hadnt time to think You came
Yes but wont you tell me now what you would have done
I should have— She checked herself and broke the sentence off She went up to the dripping window and strained her eyes into the darkness She could not think what she would have done
Come away from the window dear said Miss Bartlett You will be seen from the road
Lucy obeyed She was in her cousins power She could not modulate out the key of self-abasement in which she had started Neither of them referred again to her suggestion that she should speak to George and settle the matter whatever it was with him
Miss Bartlett became plaintive
Oh for a real man We are only two women you and I Mr Beebe is hopeless There is Mr Eager but you do not trust him Oh for your brother He is young but I know that his sisters insult would rouse in him a very lion Thank God chivalry is not yet dead There are still left some men who can reverence woman
As she spoke she pulled off her rings of which she wore several and ranged them upon the pin cushion Then she blew into her gloves and said
It will be a push to catch the morning train but we must try
What train
The train to Rome She looked at her gloves critically
The girl received the announcement as easily as it had been given
When does the train to Rome go
At eight
Signora Bertolini would be upset
We must face that said Miss Bartlett not liking to say that she had given notice already
She will make us pay for a whole weeks pension
I expect she will However we shall be much more comfortable at the Vyses hotel Isnt afternoon tea given there for nothing
Yes but they pay extra for wine After this remark she remained motionless and silent To her tired eyes Charlotte throbbed and swelled like a ghostly figure in a dream
They began to sort their clothes for packing for there was no time to lose if they were to catch the train to Rome Lucy when admonished began to move to and fro between the rooms more conscious of the discomforts of packing by candlelight than of a subtler ill Charlotte who was practical without ability knelt by the side of an empty trunk vainly endeavouring to pave it with books of varying thickness and size She gave two or three sighs for the stooping posture hurt her back and for all her diplomacy she felt that she was growing old The girl heard her as she entered the room and was seized with one of those emotional impulses to which she could never attribute a cause She only felt that the candle would burn better the packing go easier the world be happier if she could give and receive some human love The impulse had come before today but never so strongly She knelt down by her cousins side and took her in her arms
Miss Bartlett returned the embrace with tenderness and warmth But she was not a stupid woman and she knew perfectly well that Lucy did not love her but needed her to love For it was in ominous tones that she said after a long pause
Dearest Lucy how will you ever forgive me
Lucy was on her guard at once knowing by bitter experience what forgiving Miss Bartlett meant Her emotion relaxed she modified her embrace a little and she said
Charlotte dear what do you mean As if I have anything to forgive
You have a great deal and I have a very great deal to forgive myself too I know well how much I vex you at every turn
But no—
Miss Bartlett assumed her favourite role that of the prematurely aged martyr
Ah but yes I feel that our tour together is hardly the success I had hoped I might have known it would not do You want some one younger and stronger and more in sympathy with you I am too uninteresting and oldfashioned—only fit to pack and unpack your things
Please—
My only consolation was that you found people more to your taste and were often able to leave me at home I had my own poor ideas of what a lady ought to do but I hope I did not inflict them on you more than was necessary You had your own way about these rooms at all events
You mustnt say these things said Lucy softly
She still clung to the hope that she and Charlotte loved each other heart and soul They continued to pack in silence
I have been a failure said Miss Bartlett as she struggled with the straps of Lucys trunk instead of strapping her own Failed to make you happy failed in my duty to your mother She has been so generous to me I shall never face her again after this disaster
But mother will understand It is not your fault this trouble and it isnt a disaster either
It is my fault it is a disaster She will never forgive me and rightly Fur instance what right had I to make friends with Miss Lavish
Every right
When I was here for your sake If I have vexed you it is equally true that I have neglected you Your mother will see this as clearly as I do when you tell her
Lucy from a cowardly wish to improve the situation said
Why need mother hear of it
But you tell her everything
I suppose I do generally
I dare not break your confidence There is something sacred in it Unless you feel that it is a thing you could not tell her
The girl would not be degraded to this
Naturally I should have told her But in case she should blame you in any way I promise I will not I am very willing not to I will never speak of it either to her or to any one
Her promise brought the longdrawn interview to a sudden close Miss Bartlett pecked her smartly on both cheeks wished her goodnight and sent her to her own room
For a moment the original trouble was in the background George would seem to have behaved like a cad throughout perhaps that was the view which one would take eventually At present she neither acquitted nor condemned him she did not pass judgment At the moment when she was about to judge him her cousins voice had intervened and ever since it was Miss Bartlett who had dominated Miss Bartlett who even now could be heard sighing into a crack in the partition wall Miss Bartlett who had really been neither pliable nor humble nor inconsistent She had worked like a great artist for a time—indeed for years—she had been meaningless but at the end there was presented to the girl the complete picture of a cheerless loveless world in which the young rush to destruction until they learn better—a shamefaced world of precautions and barriers which may avert evil but which do not seem to bring good if we may judge from those who have used them most
Lucy was suffering from the most grievous wrong which this world has yet discovered diplomatic advantage had been taken of her sincerity of her craving for sympathy and love Such a wrong is not easily forgotten Never again did she expose herself without due consideration and precaution against rebuff And such a wrong may react disastrously upon the soul
The doorbell rang and she started to the shutters Before she reached them she hesitated turned and blew out the candle Thus it was that though she saw some one standing in the wet below he though he looked up did not see her
To reach his room he had to go by hers She was still dressed It struck her that she might slip into the passage and just say that she would be gone before he was up and that their extraordinary intercourse was over
Whether she would have dared to do this was never proved At the critical moment Miss Bartlett opened her own door and her voice said
I wish one word with you in the drawingroom Mr Emerson please
Soon their footsteps returned and Miss Bartlett said Goodnight Mr Emerson
His heavy tired breathing was the only reply the chaperon had done her work
Lucy cried aloud It isnt true It cant all be true I want not to be muddled I want to grow older quickly
Miss Bartlett tapped on the wall
Go to bed at once dear You need all the rest you can get
In the morning they left for Rome
PART TWO
Chapter VIII Medieval
The drawingroom curtains at Windy Corner had been pulled to meet for the carpet was new and deserved protection from the August sun They were heavy curtains reaching almost to the ground and the light that filtered through them was subdued and varied A poet—none was present—might have quoted Life like a dome of many coloured glass or might have compared the curtains to sluicegates lowered against the intolerable tides of heaven Without was poured a sea of radiance within the glory though visible was tempered to the capacities of man
Two pleasant people sat in the room One—a boy of nineteen—was studying a small manual of anatomy and peering occasionally at a bone which lay upon the piano From time to time he bounced in his chair and puffed and groaned for the day was hot and the print small and the human frame fearfully made and his mother who was writing a letter did continually read out to him what she had written And continually did she rise from her seat and part the curtains so that a rivulet of light fell across the carpet and make the remark that they were still there
Where arent they said the boy who was Freddy Lucys brother I tell you Im getting fairly sick
For goodness sake go out of my drawingroom then cried Mrs Honeychurch who hoped to cure her children of slang by taking it literally
Freddy did not move or reply
I think things are coming to a head she observed rather wanting her sons opinion on the situation if she could obtain it without undue supplication
Time they did
I am glad that Cecil is asking her this once more
Its his third go isnt it
Freddy I do call the way you talk unkind
I didnt mean to be unkind Then he added But I do think Lucy might have got this off her chest in Italy I dont know how girls manage things but she cant have said No properly before or she wouldnt have to say it again now Over the whole thing—I cant explain—I do feel so uncomfortable
Do you indeed dear How interesting
I feel—never mind
He returned to his work
Just listen to what I have written to Mrs Vyse I said Dear Mrs Vyse
Yes mother you told me A jolly good letter
I said Dear Mrs Vyse Cecil has just asked my permission about it and I should be delighted if Lucy wishes it But— She stopped reading I was rather amused at Cecil asking my permission at all He has always gone in for unconventionality and parents nowhere and so forth When it comes to the point he cant get on without me
Nor me
You
Freddy nodded
What do you mean
He asked me for my permission also
She exclaimed How very odd of him
Why so asked the son and heir Why shouldnt my permission be asked
What do you know about Lucy or girls or anything What ever did you say
I said to Cecil Take her or leave her its no business of mine
What a helpful answer But her own answer though more normal in its wording had been to the same effect
The bother is this began Freddy
Then he took up his work again too shy to say what the bother was Mrs Honeychurch went back to the window
Freddy you must come There they still are
I dont see you ought to go peeping like that
Peeping like that Cant I look out of my own window
But she returned to the writingtable observing as she passed her son Still page 322 Freddy snorted and turned over two leaves For a brief space they were silent Close by beyond the curtains the gentle murmur of a long conversation had never ceased
The bother is this I have put my foot in it with Cecil most awfully He gave a nervous gulp Not content with permission which I did give—that is to say I said I dont mind—well not content with that he wanted to know whether I wasnt off my head with joy He practically put it like this Wasnt it a splendid thing for Lucy and for Windy Corner generally if he married her And he would have an answer—he said it would strengthen his hand
I hope you gave a careful answer dear
I answered No said the boy grinding his teeth There Fly into a stew I cant help it—had to say it I had to say no He ought never to have asked me
Ridiculous child cried his mother You think youre so holy and truthful but really its only abominable conceit Do you suppose that a man like Cecil would take the slightest notice of anything you say I hope he boxed your ears How dare you say no
Oh do keep quiet mother I had to say no when I couldnt say yes I tried to laugh as if I didnt mean what I said and as Cecil laughed too and went away it may be all right But I feel my foots in it Oh do keep quiet though and let a man do some work
No said Mrs Honeychurch with the air of one who has considered the subject I shall not keep quiet You know all that has passed between them in Rome you know why he is down here and yet you deliberately insult him and try to turn him out of my house
Not a bit he pleaded I only let out I didnt like him I dont hate him but I dont like him What I mind is that hell tell Lucy
He glanced at the curtains dismally
Well I like him said Mrs Honeychurch I know his mother hes good hes clever hes rich hes well connected—Oh you neednt kick the piano Hes well connected—Ill say it again if you like hes well connected She paused as if rehearsing her eulogy but her face remained dissatisfied She added And he has beautiful manners
I liked him till just now I suppose its having him spoiling Lucys first week at home and its also something that Mr Beebe said not knowing
Mr Beebe said his mother trying to conceal her interest I dont see how Mr Beebe comes in
You know Mr Beebes funny way when you never quite know what he means He said Mr Vyse is an ideal bachelor I was very cute I asked him what he meant He said Oh hes like me—better detached I couldnt make him say any more but it set me thinking Since Cecil has come after Lucy he hasnt been so pleasant at least—I cant explain
You never can dear But I can You are jealous of Cecil because he may stop Lucy knitting you silk ties
The explanation seemed plausible and Freddy tried to accept it But at the back of his brain there lurked a dim mistrust Cecil praised one too much for being athletic Was that it Cecil made one talk in ones own way This tired one Was that it And Cecil was the kind of fellow who would never wear another fellows cap Unaware of his own profundity Freddy checked himself He must be jealous or he would not dislike a man for such foolish reasons
Will this do called his mother Dear Mrs Vyse—Cecil has just asked my permission about it and I should be delighted if Lucy wishes it Then I put in at the top and I have told Lucy so I must write the letter out again—and I have told Lucy so But Lucy seems very uncertain and in these days young people must decide for themselves I said that because I didnt want Mrs Vyse to think us oldfashioned She goes in for lectures and improving her mind and all the time a thick layer of flue under the beds and the maids dirty thumbmarks where you turn on the electric light She keeps that flat abominably—
Suppose Lucy marries Cecil would she live in a flat or in the country
Dont interrupt so foolishly Where was I Oh yes—Young people must decide for themselves I know that Lucy likes your son because she tells me everything and she wrote to me from Rome when he asked her first No Ill cross that last bit out—it looks patronizing Ill stop at because she tells me everything Or shall I cross that out too
Cross it out too said Freddy
Mrs Honeychurch left it in
Then the whole thing runs Dear Mrs Vyse—Cecil has just asked my permission about it and I should be delighted if Lucy wishes it and I have told Lucy so But Lucy seems very uncertain and in these days young people must decide for themselves I know that Lucy likes your son because she tells me everything But I do not know—
Look out cried Freddy
The curtains parted
Cecils first movement was one of irritation He couldnt bear the Honeychurch habit of sitting in the dark to save the furniture Instinctively he give the curtains a twitch and sent them swinging down their poles Light entered There was revealed a terrace such as is owned by many villas with trees each side of it and on it a little rustic seat and two flowerbeds But it was transfigured by the view beyond for Windy Corner was built on the range that overlooks the Sussex Weald Lucy who was in the little seat seemed on the edge of a green magic carpet which hovered in the air above the tremulous world
Cecil entered
Appearing thus late in the story Cecil must be at once described He was medieval Like a Gothic statue Tall and refined with shoulders that seemed braced square by an effort of the will and a head that was tilted a little higher than the usual level of vision he resembled those fastidious saints who guard the portals of a French cathedral Well educated well endowed and not deficient physically he remained in the grip of a certain devil whom the modern world knows as selfconsciousness, and whom the medieval with dimmer vision worshipped as asceticism A Gothic statue implies celibacy just as a Greek statue implies fruition and perhaps this was what Mr Beebe meant And Freddy who ignored history and art perhaps meant the same when he failed to imagine Cecil wearing another fellows cap
Mrs Honeychurch left her letter on the writing table and moved towards her young acquaintance
Oh Cecil she exclaimed—oh Cecil do tell me
I promessi sposi said he
They stared at him anxiously
She has accepted me he said and the sound of the thing in English made him flush and smile with pleasure and look more human
I am so glad said Mrs Honeychurch while Freddy proffered a hand that was yellow with chemicals They wished that they also knew Italian for our phrases of approval and of amazement are so connected with little occasions that we fear to use them on great ones We are obliged to become vaguely poetic or to take refuge in Scriptural reminiscences
Welcome as one of the family said Mrs Honeychurch waving her hand at the furniture This is indeed a joyous day I feel sure that you will make our dear Lucy happy
I hope so replied the young man shifting his eyes to the ceiling
We mothers— simpered Mrs Honeychurch and then realized that she was affected sentimental bombastic—all the things she hated most Why could she not be Freddy who stood stiff in the middle of the room looking very cross and almost handsome
I say Lucy called Cecil for conversation seemed to flag
Lucy rose from the seat She moved across the lawn and smiled in at them just as if she was going to ask them to play tennis Then she saw her brothers face Her lips parted and she took him in her arms He said Steady on
Not a kiss for me asked her mother
Lucy kissed her also
Would you take them into the garden and tell Mrs Honeychurch all about it Cecil suggested And Id stop here and tell my mother
We go with Lucy said Freddy as if taking orders
Yes you go with Lucy
They passed into the sunlight Cecil watched them cross the terrace and descend out of sight by the steps They would descend—he knew their ways—past the shrubbery and past the tennislawn and the dahliabed until they reached the kitchen garden and there in the presence of the potatoes and the peas the great event would be discussed
Smiling indulgently he lit a cigarette and rehearsed the events that had led to such a happy conclusion
He had known Lucy for several years but only as a commonplace girl who happened to be musical He could still remember his depression that afternoon at Rome when she and her terrible cousin fell on him out of the blue and demanded to be taken to St Peters That day she had seemed a typical tourist—shrill crude and gaunt with travel But Italy worked some marvel in her It gave her light and—which he held more precious—it gave her shadow Soon he detected in her a wonderful reticence She was like a woman of Leonardo da Vincis whom we love not so much for herself as for the things that she will not tell us The things are assuredly not of this life no woman of Leonardos could have anything so vulgar as a story She did develop most wonderfully day by day
So it happened that from patronizing civility he had slowly passed if not to passion at least to a profound uneasiness Already at Rome he had hinted to her that they might be suitable for each other It had touched him greatly that she had not broken away at the suggestion Her refusal had been clear and gentle after it—as the horrid phrase went—she had been exactly the same to him as before Three months later on the margin of Italy among the flowerclad Alps he had asked her again in bald traditional language She reminded him of a Leonardo more than ever her sunburnt features were shadowed by fantastic rock at his words she had turned and stood between him and the light with immeasurable plains behind her He walked home with her unashamed feeling not at all like a rejected suitor The things that really mattered were unshaken
So now he had asked her once more and clear and gentle as ever she had accepted him giving no coy reasons for her delay but simply saying that she loved him and would do her best to make him happy His mother too would be pleased she had counselled the step he must write her a long account
Glancing at his hand in case any of Freddys chemicals had come off on it he moved to the writing table There he saw Dear Mrs Vyse followed by many erasures He recoiled without reading any more and after a little hesitation sat down elsewhere and pencilled a note on his knee
Then he lit another cigarette which did not seem quite as divine as the first and considered what might be done to make Windy Corner drawingroom more distinctive With that outlook it should have been a successful room but the trail of Tottenham Court Road was upon it he could almost visualize the motorvans of Messrs Shoolbred and Messrs Maple arriving at the door and depositing this chair those varnished bookcases that writingtable The table recalled Mrs Honeychurchs letter He did not want to read that letter—his temptations never lay in that direction but he worried about it none the less It was his own fault that she was discussing him with his mother he had wanted her support in his third attempt to win Lucy he wanted to feel that others no matter who they were agreed with him and so he had asked their permission Mrs Honeychurch had been civil but obtuse in essentials while as for Freddy—He is only a boy he reflected I represent all that he despises Why should he want me for a brotherinlaw
The Honeychurches were a worthy family but he began to realize that Lucy was of another clay and perhaps—he did not put it very definitely—he ought to introduce her into more congenial circles as soon as possible
Mr Beebe said the maid and the new rector of Summer Street was shown in he had at once started on friendly relations owing to Lucys praise of him in her letters from Florence
Cecil greeted him rather critically
Ive come for tea Mr Vyse Do you suppose that I shall get it
I should say so Food is the thing one does get here—Dont sit in that chair young Honeychurch has left a bone in it
Pfui
I know said Cecil I know I cant think why Mrs Honeychurch allows it
For Cecil considered the bone and the Maples furniture separately he did not realize that taken together they kindled the room into the life that he desired
Ive come for tea and for gossip Isnt this news
News I dont understand you said Cecil News
Mr Beebe whose news was of a very different nature prattled forward
I met Sir Harry Otway as I came up I have every reason to hope that I am first in the field He has bought Cissie and Albert from Mr Flack
Has he indeed said Cecil trying to recover himself Into what a grotesque mistake had he fallen Was it likely that a clergyman and a gentleman would refer to his engagement in a manner so flippant But his stiffness remained and though he asked who Cissie and Albert might be he still thought Mr Beebe rather a bounder
Unpardonable question To have stopped a week at Windy Corner and not to have met Cissie and Albert the semidetached villas that have been run up opposite the church Ill set Mrs Honeychurch after you
Im shockingly stupid over local affairs said the young man languidly I cant even remember the difference between a Parish Council and a Local Government Board Perhaps there is no difference or perhaps those arent the right names I only go into the country to see my friends and to enjoy the scenery It is very remiss of me Italy and London are the only places where I dont feel to exist on sufferance
Mr Beebe distressed at this heavy reception of Cissie and Albert determined to shift the subject
Let me see Mr Vyse—I forget—what is your profession
I have no profession said Cecil It is another example of my decadence My attitude quite an indefensible one—is that so long as I am no trouble to any one I have a right to do as I like I know I ought to be getting money out of people or devoting myself to things I dont care a straw about but somehow Ive not been able to begin
You are very fortunate said Mr Beebe It is a wonderful opportunity the possession of leisure
His voice was rather parochial but he did not quite see his way to answering naturally He felt as all who have regular occupation must feel that others should have it also
I am glad that you approve I darent face the healthy person—for example Freddy Honeychurch
Oh Freddys a good sort isnt he
Admirable The sort who has made England what she is
Cecil wondered at himself Why on this day of all others was he so hopelessly contrary He tried to get right by inquiring effusively after Mr Beebes mother an old lady for whom he had no particular regard Then he flattered the clergyman praised his liberalmindedness his enlightened attitude towards philosophy and science
Where are the others said Mr Beebe at last I insist on extracting tea before evening service
I suppose Anne never told them you were here In this house one is so coached in the servants the day one arrives The fault of Anne is that she begs your pardon when she hears you perfectly and kicks the chairlegs with her feet The faults of Mary—I forget the faults of Mary but they are very grave Shall we look in the garden
I know the faults of Mary She leaves the dustpans standing on the stairs
The fault of Euphemia is that she will not simply will not chop the suet sufficiently small
They both laughed and things began to go better
The faults of Freddy— Cecil continued
Ah he has too many No one but his mother can remember the faults of Freddy Try the faults of Miss Honeychurch they are not innumerable
She has none said the young man with grave sincerity
I quite agree At present she has none
At present
Im not cynical Im only thinking of my pet theory about Miss Honeychurch Does it seem reasonable that she should play so wonderfully and live so quietly I suspect that one day she will be wonderful in both The watertight compartments in her will break down and music and life will mingle Then we shall have her heroically good heroically bad—too heroic perhaps to be good or bad
Cecil found his companion interesting
And at present you think her not wonderful as far as life goes
Well I must say Ive only seen her at Tunbridge Wells where she was not wonderful and at Florence Since I came to Summer Street she has been away You saw her didnt you at Rome and in the Alps Oh I forgot of course you knew her before No she wasnt wonderful in Florence either but I kept on expecting that she would be
In what way
Conversation had become agreeable to them and they were pacing up and down the terrace
I could as easily tell you what tune shell play next There was simply the sense that she had found wings and meant to use them I can show you a beautiful picture in my Italian diary Miss Honeychurch as a kite Miss Bartlett holding the string Picture number two the string breaks
The sketch was in his diary but it had been made afterwards when he viewed things artistically At the time he had given surreptitious tugs to the string himself
But the string never broke
No I mightnt have seen Miss Honeychurch rise but I should certainly have heard Miss Bartlett fall
It has broken now said the young man in low vibrating tones
Immediately he realized that of all the conceited ludicrous contemptible ways of announcing an engagement this was the worst He cursed his love of metaphor had he suggested that he was a star and that Lucy was soaring up to reach him
Broken What do you mean
I meant said Cecil stiffly that she is going to marry me
The clergyman was conscious of some bitter disappointment which he could not keep out of his voice
I am sorry I must apologize I had no idea you were intimate with her or I should never have talked in this flippant superficial way Mr Vyse you ought to have stopped me And down the garden he saw Lucy herself yes he was disappointed
Cecil who naturally preferred congratulations to apologies drew down his mouth at the corners Was this the reception his action would get from the world Of course he despised the world as a whole every thoughtful man should it is almost a test of refinement But he was sensitive to the successive particles of it which he encountered
Occasionally he could be quite crude
I am sorry I have given you a shock he said dryly I fear that Lucys choice does not meet with your approval
Not that But you ought to have stopped me I know Miss Honeychurch only a little as time goes Perhaps I oughtnt to have discussed her so freely with any one certainly not with you
You are conscious of having said something indiscreet
Mr Beebe pulled himself together Really Mr Vyse had the art of placing one in the most tiresome positions He was driven to use the prerogatives of his profession
No I have said nothing indiscreet I foresaw at Florence that her quiet uneventful childhood must end and it has ended I realized dimly enough that she might take some momentous step She has taken it She has learnt—you will let me talk freely as I have begun freely—she has learnt what it is to love the greatest lesson some people will tell you that our earthly life provides It was now time for him to wave his hat at the approaching trio He did not omit to do so She has learnt through you and if his voice was still clerical it was now also sincere let it be your care that her knowledge is profitable to her
Grazie tante said Cecil who did not like parsons
Have you heard shouted Mrs Honeychurch as she toiled up the sloping garden Oh Mr Beebe have you heard the news
Freddy now full of geniality whistled the wedding march Youth seldom criticizes the accomplished fact
Indeed I have he cried He looked at Lucy In her presence he could not act the parson any longer—at all events not without apology Mrs Honeychurch Im going to do what I am always supposed to do but generally Im too shy I want to invoke every kind of blessing on them grave and gay great and small I want them all their lives to be supremely good and supremely happy as husband and wife as father and mother And now I want my tea
You only asked for it just in time the lady retorted How dare you be serious at Windy Corner
He took his tone from her There was no more heavy beneficence no more attempts to dignify the situation with poetry or the Scriptures None of them dared or was able to be serious any more
An engagement is so potent a thing that sooner or later it reduces all who speak of it to this state of cheerful awe Away from it in the solitude of their rooms Mr Beebe and even Freddy might again be critical But in its presence and in the presence of each other they were sincerely hilarious It has a strange power for it compels not only the lips but the very heart The chief parallel to compare one great thing with another—is the power over us of a temple of some alien creed Standing outside we deride or oppose it or at the most feel sentimental Inside though the saints and gods are not ours we become true believers in case any true believer should be present
So it was that after the gropings and the misgivings of the afternoon they pulled themselves together and settled down to a very pleasant teaparty If they were hypocrites they did not know it and their hypocrisy had every chance of setting and of becoming true Anne putting down each plate as if it were a wedding present stimulated them greatly They could not lag behind that smile of hers which she gave them ere she kicked the drawingroom door Mr Beebe chirruped Freddy was at his wittiest referring to Cecil as the Fiasco—family honoured pun on fiance Mrs Honeychurch amusing and portly promised well as a motherinlaw As for Lucy and Cecil for whom the temple had been built they also joined in the merry ritual but waited as earnest worshippers should for the disclosure of some holier shrine of joy
Chapter IX Lucy As a Work of Art
A few days after the engagement was announced Mrs Honeychurch made Lucy and her Fiasco come to a little gardenparty in the neighbourhood for naturally she wanted to show people that her daughter was marrying a presentable man
Cecil was more than presentable he looked distinguished and it was very pleasant to see his slim figure keeping step with Lucy and his long fair face responding when Lucy spoke to him People congratulated Mrs Honeychurch which is I believe a social blunder but it pleased her and she introduced Cecil rather indiscriminately to some stuffy dowagers
At tea a misfortune took place a cup of coffee was upset over Lucys figured silk and though Lucy feigned indifference her mother feigned nothing of the sort but dragged her indoors to have the frock treated by a sympathetic maid They were gone some time and Cecil was left with the dowagers When they returned he was not as pleasant as he had been
Do you go to much of this sort of thing he asked when they were driving home
Oh now and then said Lucy who had rather enjoyed herself
Is it typical of country society
I suppose so Mother would it be
Plenty of society said Mrs Honeychurch who was trying to remember the hang of one of the dresses
Seeing that her thoughts were elsewhere Cecil bent towards Lucy and said
To me it seemed perfectly appalling disastrous portentous
I am so sorry that you were stranded
Not that but the congratulations It is so disgusting the way an engagement is regarded as public property—a kind of waste place where every outsider may shoot his vulgar sentiment All those old women smirking
One has to go through it I suppose They wont notice us so much next time
But my point is that their whole attitude is wrong An engagement—horrid word in the first place—is a private matter and should be treated as such
Yet the smirking old women however wrong individually were racially correct The spirit of the generations had smiled through them rejoicing in the engagement of Cecil and Lucy because it promised the continuance of life on earth To Cecil and Lucy it promised something quite different—personal love Hence Cecils irritation and Lucys belief that his irritation was just
How tiresome she said Couldnt you have escaped to tennis
I dont play tennis—at least not in public The neighbourhood is deprived of the romance of me being athletic Such romance as I have is that of the Inglese Italianato
Inglese Italianato
E un diavolo incarnato You know the proverb
She did not Nor did it seem applicable to a young man who had spent a quiet winter in Rome with his mother But Cecil since his engagement had taken to affect a cosmopolitan naughtiness which he was far from possessing
Well said he I cannot help it if they do disapprove of me There are certain irremovable barriers between myself and them and I must accept them
We all have our limitations I suppose said wise Lucy
Sometimes they are forced on us though said Cecil who saw from her remark that she did not quite understand his position
How
It makes a difference doesnt it whether we fully fence ourselves in or whether we are fenced out by the barriers of others
She thought a moment and agreed that it did make a difference
Difference cried Mrs Honeychurch suddenly alert I dont see any difference Fences are fences especially when they are in the same place
We were speaking of motives said Cecil on whom the interruption jarred
My dear Cecil look here She spread out her knees and perched her cardcase on her lap This is me Thats Windy Corner The rest of the pattern is the other people Motives are all very well but the fence comes here
We werent talking of real fences said Lucy laughing
Oh I see dear—poetry
She leant placidly back Cecil wondered why Lucy had been amused
I tell you who has no fences as you call them she said and thats Mr Beebe
A parson fenceless would mean a parson defenceless
Lucy was slow to follow what people said but quick enough to detect what they meant She missed Cecils epigram but grasped the feeling that prompted it
Dont you like Mr Beebe she asked thoughtfully
I never said so he cried I consider him far above the average I only denied— And he swept off on the subject of fences again and was brilliant
Now a clergyman that I do hate said she wanting to say something sympathetic a clergyman that does have fences and the most dreadful ones is Mr Eager the English chaplain at Florence He was truly insincere—not merely the manner unfortunate He was a snob and so conceited and he did say such unkind things
What sort of things
There was an old man at the Bertolini whom he said had murdered his wife
Perhaps he had
No
Why no
He was such a nice old man Im sure
Cecil laughed at her feminine inconsequence
Well I did try to sift the thing Mr Eager would never come to the point He prefers it vague—said the old man had practically murdered his wife—had murdered her in the sight of God
Hush dear said Mrs Honeychurch absently But isnt it intolerable that a person whom were told to imitate should go round spreading slander It was I believe chiefly owing to him that the old man was dropped People pretended he was vulgar but he certainly wasnt that
Poor old man What was his name
Harris said Lucy glibly
Lets hope that Mrs Harris there warnt no sich person said her mother
Cecil nodded intelligently
Isnt Mr Eager a parson of the cultured type he asked
I dont know I hate him Ive heard him lecture on Giotto I hate him Nothing can hide a petty nature I HATE him
My goodness gracious me child said Mrs Honeychurch Youll blow my head off Whatever is there to shout over I forbid you and Cecil to hate any more clergymen
He smiled There was indeed something rather incongruous in Lucys moral outburst over Mr Eager It was as if one should see the Leonardo on the ceiling of the Sistine He longed to hint to her that not here lay her vocation that a womans power and charm reside in mystery not in muscular rant But possibly rant is a sign of vitality it mars the beautiful creature but shows that she is alive After a moment he contemplated her flushed face and excited gestures with a certain approval He forebore to repress the sources of youth
Nature—simplest of topics he thought—lay around them He praised the pinewoods the deep lasts of bracken the crimson leaves that spotted the hurtbushes the serviceable beauty of the turnpike road The outdoor world was not very familiar to him and occasionally he went wrong in a question of fact. Mrs Honeychurchs mouth twitched when he spoke of the perpetual green of the larch
I count myself a lucky person he concluded When Im in London I feel I could never live out of it When Im in the country I feel the same about the country After all I do believe that birds and trees and the sky are the most wonderful things in life and that the people who live amongst them must be the best Its true that in nine cases out of ten they dont seem to notice anything The country gentleman and the country labourer are each in their way the most depressing of companions Yet they may have a tacit sympathy with the workings of Nature which is denied to us of the town Do you feel that Mrs Honeychurch
Mrs Honeychurch started and smiled She had not been attending Cecil who was rather crushed on the front seat of the victoria felt irritable and determined not to say anything interesting again
Lucy had not attended either Her brow was wrinkled and she still looked furiously cross—the result he concluded of too much moral gymnastics It was sad to see her thus blind to the beauties of an August wood
Come down O maid from yonder mountain height he quoted and touched her knee with his own
She flushed again and said What height
Come down O maid from yonder mountain height What pleasure lives in height the shepherd sang In height and in the splendour of the hills Let us take Mrs Honeychurchs advice and hate clergymen no more Whats this place
Summer Street of course said Lucy and roused herself
The woods had opened to leave space for a sloping triangular meadow Pretty cottages lined it on two sides and the upper and third side was occupied by a new stone church expensively simple a charming shingled spire Mr Beebes house was near the church In height it scarcely exceeded the cottages Some great mansions were at hand but they were hidden in the trees The scene suggested a Swiss Alp rather than the shrine and centre of a leisured world and was marred only by two ugly little villas—the villas that had competed with Cecils engagement having been acquired by Sir Harry Otway the very afternoon that Lucy had been acquired by Cecil
Cissie was the name of one of these villas Albert of the other These titles were not only picked out in shaded Gothic on the garden gates but appeared a second time on the porches where they followed the semicircular curve of the entrance arch in block capitals Albert was inhabited His tortured garden was bright with geraniums and lobelias and polished shells His little windows were chastely swathed in Nottingham lace Cissie was to let Three noticeboards belonging to Dorking agents lolled on her fence and announced the not surprising fact Her paths were already weedy her pockethandkerchief of a lawn was yellow with dandelions
The place is ruined said the ladies mechanically Summer Street will never be the same again
As the carriage passed Cissies door opened and a gentleman came out of her
Stop cried Mrs Honeychurch touching the coachman with her parasol Heres Sir Harry Now we shall know Sir Harry pull those things down at once
Sir Harry Otway—who need not be described—came to the carriage and said Mrs Honeychurch I meant to I cant I really cant turn out Miss Flack
Am I not always right She ought to have gone before the contract was signed Does she still live rent free as she did in her nephews time
But what can I do He lowered his voice An old lady so very vulgar and almost bedridden
Turn her out said Cecil bravely
Sir Harry sighed and looked at the villas mournfully He had had full warning of Mr Flacks intentions and might have bought the plot before building commenced but he was apathetic and dilatory He had known Summer Street for so many years that he could not imagine it being spoilt Not till Mrs Flack had laid the foundation stone and the apparition of red and cream brick began to rise did he take alarm He called on Mr Flack the local builder—a most reasonable and respectful man—who agreed that tiles would have made more artistic roof but pointed out that slates were cheaper He ventured to differ however about the Corinthian columns which were to cling like leeches to the frames of the bow windows saying that for his part he liked to relieve the facade by a bit of decoration Sir Harry hinted that a column if possible should be structural as well as decorative
Mr Flack replied that all the columns had been ordered adding and all the capitals different—one with dragons in the foliage another approaching to the Ionian style another introducing Mrs Flacks initials—every one different For he had read his Ruskin He built his villas according to his desire and not until he had inserted an immovable aunt into one of them did Sir Harry buy
This futile and unprofitable transaction filled the knight with sadness as he leant on Mrs Honeychurchs carriage He had failed in his duties to the countryside and the countryside was laughing at him as well He had spent money and yet Summer Street was spoilt as much as ever All he could do now was to find a desirable tenant for Cissie—some one really desirable
The rent is absurdly low he told them and perhaps I am an easy landlord But it is such an awkward size It is too large for the peasant class and too small for any one the least like ourselves
Cecil had been hesitating whether he should despise the villas or despise Sir Harry for despising them The latter impulse seemed the more fruitful
You ought to find a tenant at once he said maliciously It would be a perfect paradise for a bank clerk
Exactly said Sir Harry excitedly That is exactly what I fear Mr Vyse It will attract the wrong type of people The train service has improved—a fatal improvement to my mind And what are five miles from a station in these days of bicycles
Rather a strenuous clerk it would be said Lucy
Cecil who had his full share of mediaeval mischievousness replied that the physique of the lower middle classes was improving at a most appalling rate She saw that he was laughing at their harmless neighbour and roused herself to stop him
Sir Harry she exclaimed I have an idea How would you like spinsters
My dear Lucy it would be splendid Do you know any such
Yes I met them abroad
Gentlewomen he asked tentatively
Yes indeed and at the present moment homeless I heard from them last week—Miss Teresa and Miss Catharine Alan Im really not joking They are quite the right people Mr Beebe knows them too May I tell them to write to you
Indeed you may he cried Here we are with the difficulty solved already How delightful it is Extra facilities—please tell them they shall have extra facilities for I shall have no agents fees Oh the agents The appalling people they have sent me One woman when I wrote—a tactful letter you know—asking her to explain her social position to me replied that she would pay the rent in advance As if one cares about that And several references I took up were most unsatisfactory—people swindlers or not respectable And oh the deceit I have seen a good deal of the seamy side this last week The deceit of the most promising people My dear Lucy the deceit
She nodded
My advice put in Mrs Honeychurch is to have nothing to do with Lucy and her decayed gentlewomen at all I know the type Preserve me from people who have seen better days and bring heirlooms with them that make the house smell stuffy Its a sad thing but Id far rather let to some one who is going up in the world than to some one who has come down
I think I follow you said Sir Harry but it is as you say a very sad thing
The Misses Alan arent that cried Lucy
Yes they are said Cecil I havent met them but I should say they were a highly unsuitable addition to the neighbourhood
Dont listen to him Sir Harry—hes tiresome
Its I who am tiresome he replied I oughtnt to come with my troubles to young people But really I am so worried and Lady Otway will only say that I cannot be too careful which is quite true but no real help
Then may I write to my Misses Alan
Please
But his eye wavered when Mrs Honeychurch exclaimed
Beware They are certain to have canaries Sir Harry beware of canaries they spit the seed out through the bars of the cages and then the mice come Beware of women altogether Only let to a man
Really— he murmured gallantly though he saw the wisdom of her remark
Men dont gossip over teacups If they get drunk theres an end of them—they lie down comfortably and sleep it off If theyre vulgar they somehow keep it to themselves It doesnt spread so Give me a man—of course provided hes clean
Sir Harry blushed Neither he nor Cecil enjoyed these open compliments to their sex Even the exclusion of the dirty did not leave them much distinction He suggested that Mrs Honeychurch if she had time should descend from the carriage and inspect Cissie for herself She was delighted Nature had intended her to be poor and to live in such a house Domestic arrangements always attracted her especially when they were on a small scale
Cecil pulled Lucy back as she followed her mother
Mrs Honeychurch he said what if we two walk home and leave you
Certainly was her cordial reply
Sir Harry likewise seemed almost too glad to get rid of them He beamed at them knowingly said Aha young people young people and then hastened to unlock the house
Hopeless vulgarian exclaimed Cecil almost before they were out of earshot
Oh Cecil
I cant help it It would be wrong not to loathe that man
He isnt clever but really he is nice
No Lucy he stands for all that is bad in country life In London he would keep his place He would belong to a brainless club and his wife would give brainless dinner parties But down here he acts the little god with his gentility and his patronage and his sham aesthetics and every one—even your mother—is taken in
All that you say is quite true said Lucy though she felt discouraged I wonder whether—whether it matters so very much
It matters supremely Sir Harry is the essence of that gardenparty Oh goodness how cross I feel How I do hope hell get some vulgar tenant in that villa—some woman so really vulgar that hell notice it GENTLEFOLKS Ugh with his bald head and retreating chin But lets forget him
This Lucy was glad enough to do If Cecil disliked Sir Harry Otway and Mr Beebe what guarantee was there that the people who really mattered to her would escape For instance Freddy Freddy was neither clever nor subtle nor beautiful and what prevented Cecil from saying any minute It would be wrong not to loathe Freddy And what would she reply Further than Freddy she did not go but he gave her anxiety enough She could only assure herself that Cecil had known Freddy some time and that they had always got on pleasantly except perhaps during the last few days which was an accident perhaps
Which way shall we go she asked him
Nature—simplest of topics she thought—was around them Summer Street lay deep in the woods and she had stopped where a footpath diverged from the highroad
Are there two ways
Perhaps the road is more sensible as were got up smart
Id rather go through the wood said Cecil With that subdued irritation that she had noticed in him all the afternoon Why is it Lucy that you always say the road Do you know that you have never once been with me in the fields or the wood since we were engaged
Havent I The wood then said Lucy startled at his queerness but pretty sure that he would explain later it was not his habit to leave her in doubt as to his meaning
She led the way into the whispering pines and sure enough he did explain before they had gone a dozen yards
I had got an idea—I dare say wrongly—that you feel more at home with me in a room
A room she echoed hopelessly bewildered
Yes Or at the most in a garden or on a road Never in the real country like this
Oh Cecil whatever do you mean I have never felt anything of the sort You talk as if I was a kind of poetess sort of person
I dont know that you arent I connect you with a view—a certain type of view Why shouldnt you connect me with a room
She reflected a moment and then said laughing
Do you know that youre right I do I must be a poetess after all When I think of you its always as in a room How funny
To her surprise he seemed annoyed
A drawingroom pray With no view
Yes with no view I fancy Why not
Id rather he said reproachfully that connected me with the open air
She said again Oh Cecil whatever do you mean
As no explanation was forthcoming she shook off the subject as too difficult for a girl and led him further into the wood pausing every now and then at some particularly beautiful or familiar combination of the trees She had known the wood between Summer Street and Windy Corner ever since she could walk alone she had played at losing Freddy in it when Freddy was a purplefaced baby and though she had been to Italy it had lost none of its charm
Presently they came to a little clearing among the pines—another tiny green alp solitary this time and holding in its bosom a shallow pool
She exclamed The Sacred Lake
Why do you call it that
I cant remember why I suppose it comes out of some book Its only a puddle now but you see that stream going through it Well a good deal of water comes down after heavy rains and cant get away at once and the pool becomes quite large and beautiful Then Freddy used to bathe there He is very fond of it
And you
He meant Are you fond of it But she answered dreamily I bathed here too till I was found out Then there was a row
At another time he might have been shocked for he had depths of prudishness within him But now with his momentary cult of the fresh air he was delighted at her admirable simplicity He looked at her as she stood by the pools edge She was got up smart as she phrased it and she reminded him of some brilliant flower that has no leaves of its own, but blooms abruptly out of a world of green
Who found you out
Charlotte she murmured She was stopping with us Charlotte—Charlotte
Poor girl
She smiled gravely A certain scheme from which hitherto he had shrank now appeared practical
Lucy
Yes I suppose we ought to be going was her reply
Lucy I want to ask something of you that I have never asked before
At the serious note in his voice she stepped frankly and kindly towards him
What Cecil
Hitherto never—not even that day on the lawn when you agreed to marry me—
He became selfconscious and kept glancing round to see if they were observed His courage had gone
Yes
Up to now I have never kissed you
She was as scarlet as if he had put the thing most indelicately
No—more you have she stammered
Then I ask you—may I now
Of course you may Cecil You might before I cant run at you you know
At that supreme moment he was conscious of nothing but absurdities Her reply was inadequate She gave such a businesslike lift to her veil As he approached her he found time to wish that he could recoil As he touched her his gold pincenez became dislodged and was flattened between them
Such was the embrace He considered with truth that it had been a failure Passion should believe itself irresistible It should forget civility and consideration and all the other curses of a refined nature Above all it should never ask for leave where there is a right of way Why could he not do as any labourer or navvy—nay as any young man behind the counter would have done He recast the scene Lucy was standing flowerlike by the water he rushed up and took her in his arms she rebuked him permitted him and revered him ever after for his manliness For he believed that women revere men for their manliness
They left the pool in silence after this one salutation He waited for her to make some remark which should show him her inmost thoughts At last she spoke and with fitting gravity
Emerson was the name not Harris
What name
The old mans
What old man
That old man I told you about The one Mr Eager was so unkind to
He could not know that this was the most intimate conversation they had ever had
Chapter X Cecil as a Humourist
The society out of which Cecil proposed to rescue Lucy was perhaps no very splendid affair yet it was more splendid than her antecedents entitled her to Her father a prosperous local solicitor had built Windy Corner as a speculation at the time the district was opening up and falling in love with his own creation had ended by living there himself Soon after his marriage the social atmosphere began to alter Other houses were built on the brow of that steep southern slope and others again among the pinetrees behind and northward on the chalk barrier of the downs Most of these houses were larger than Windy Corner and were filled by people who came not from the district but from London and who mistook the Honeychurches for the remnants of an indigenous aristocracy He was inclined to be frightened but his wife accepted the situation without either pride or humility I cannot think what people are doing she would say but it is extremely fortunate for the children She called everywhere her calls were returned with enthusiasm and by the time people found out that she was not exactly of their milieu they liked her and it did not seem to matter When Mr Honeychurch died he had the satisfaction—which few honest solicitors despise—of leaving his family rooted in the best society obtainable
The best obtainable Certainly many of the immigrants were rather dull and Lucy realized this more vividly since her return from Italy Hitherto she had accepted their ideals without questioning—their kindly affluence their inexplosive religion their dislike of paperbags orangepeel and broken bottles A Radical out and out she learnt to speak with horror of Suburbia Life so far as she troubled to conceive it was a circle of rich pleasant people with identical interests and identical foes In this circle one thought married and died Outside it were poverty and vulgarity for ever trying to enter just as the London fog tries to enter the pinewoods pouring through the gaps in the northern hills But in Italy where any one who chooses may warm himself in equality as in the sun this conception of life vanished Her senses expanded she felt that there was no one whom she might not get to like that social barriers were irremovable doubtless but not particularly high You jump over them just as you jump into a peasants oliveyard in the Apennines and he is glad to see you She returned with new eyes
So did Cecil but Italy had quickened Cecil not to tolerance but to irritation He saw that the local society was narrow but instead of saying Does that very much matter he rebelled and tried to substitute for it the society he called broad He did not realize that Lucy had consecrated her environment by the thousand little civilities that create a tenderness in time and that though her eyes saw its defects her heart refused to despise it entirely Nor did he realize a more important point—that if she was too great for this society she was too great for all society and had reached the stage where personal intercourse would alone satisfy her A rebel she was but not of the kind he understood—a rebel who desired not a wider dwellingroom but equality beside the man she loved For Italy was offering her the most priceless of all possessions—her own soul
Playing bumblepuppy with Minnie Beebe niece to the rector and aged thirteen—an ancient and most honourable game which consists in striking tennisballs high into the air so that they fall over the net and immoderately bounce some hit Mrs Honeychurch others are lost The sentence is confused but the better illustrates Lucys state of mind for she was trying to talk to Mr Beebe at the same time
Oh it has been such a nuisance—first he then they—no one knowing what they wanted and every one so tiresome
But they really are coming now said Mr Beebe I wrote to Miss Teresa a few days ago—she was wondering how often the butcher called and my reply of once a month must have impressed her favourably They are coming I heard from them this morning
I shall hate those Miss Alans Mrs Honeychurch cried Just because theyre old and silly ones expected to say How sweet I hate their ifing and buting and anding And poor Lucy—serve her right—worn to a shadow
Mr Beebe watched the shadow springing and shouting over the tenniscourt Cecil was absent—one did not play bumblepuppy when he was there
Well if they are coming—No Minnie not Saturn Saturn was a tennisball whose skin was partially unsewn When in motion his orb was encircled by a ring If they are coming Sir Harry will let them move in before the twentyninth and he will cross out the clause about whitewashing the ceilings because it made them nervous and put in the fair wear and tear one—That doesnt count I told you not Saturn
Saturns all right for bumblepuppy cried Freddy joining them Minnie dont you listen to her
Saturn doesnt bounce
Saturn bounces enough
No he doesnt
Well he bounces better than the Beautiful White Devil
Hush dear said Mrs Honeychurch
But look at Lucy—complaining of Saturn and all the times got the Beautiful White Devil in her hand ready to plug it in Thats right Minnie go for her—get her over the shins with the racquet—get her over the shins
Lucy fell the Beautiful White Devil rolled from her hand
Mr Beebe picked it up and said The name of this ball is Vittoria Corombona please But his correction passed unheeded
Freddy possessed to a high degree the power of lashing little girls to fury and in half a minute he had transformed Minnie from a wellmannered child into a howling wilderness Up in the house Cecil heard them and though he was full of entertaining news he did not come down to impart it in case he got hurt He was not a coward and bore necessary pain as well as any man But he hated the physical violence of the young How right it was Sure enough it ended in a cry
I wish the Miss Alans could see this observed Mr Beebe just as Lucy who was nursing the injured Minnie was in turn lifted off her feet by her brother
Who are the Miss Alans Freddy panted
They have taken Cissie Villa
That wasnt the name—
Here his foot slipped and they all fell most agreeably on to the grass An interval elapses
Wasnt what name asked Lucy with her brothers head in her lap
Alan wasnt the name of the people Sir Harrys let to
Nonsense Freddy You know nothing about it
Nonsense yourself Ive this minute seen him He said to me Ahem Honeychurch—Freddy was an indifferent mimic—ahem ahem I have at last procured really deesirerebel tenants I said ooray old boy and slapped him on the back
Exactly The Miss Alans
Rather not More like Anderson
Oh good gracious there isnt going to be another muddle Mrs Honeychurch exclaimed Do you notice Lucy Im always right I said dont interfere with Cissie Villa Im always right Im quite uneasy at being always right so often
Its only another muddle of Freddys Freddy doesnt even know the name of the people he pretends have taken it instead
Yes I do Ive got it Emerson
What name
Emerson Ill bet you anything you like
What a weathercock Sir Harry is said Lucy quietly I wish I had never bothered over it at all
Then she lay on her back and gazed at the cloudless sky Mr Beebe whose opinion of her rose daily whispered to his niece that THAT was the proper way to behave if any little thing went wrong
Meanwhile the name of the new tenants had diverted Mrs Honeychurch from the contemplation of her own abilities
Emerson Freddy Do you know what Emersons they are
I dont know whether theyre any Emersons retorted Freddy who was democratic Like his sister and like most young people he was naturally attracted by the idea of equality and the undeniable fact that there are different kinds of Emersons annoyed him beyond measure
I trust they are the right sort of person All right Lucy—she was sitting up again—I see you looking down your nose and thinking your mothers a snob But there is a right sort and a wrong sort and its affectation to pretend there isnt
Emersons a common enough name Lucy remarked
She was gazing sideways Seated on a promontory herself she could see the pineclad promontories descending one beyond another into the Weald The further one descended the garden the more glorious was this lateral view
I was merely going to remark Freddy that I trusted they were no relations of Emerson the philosopher a most trying man Pray does that satisfy you
Oh yes he grumbled And you will be satisfied too for theyre friends of Cecil so—elaborate irony—you and the other country families will be able to call in perfect safety
CECIL exclaimed Lucy
Dont be rude dear said his mother placidly Lucy dont screech Its a new bad habit youre getting into
But has Cecil—
Friends of Cecils he repeated and so really deesirerebel Ahem Honeychurch I have just telegraphed to them
She got up from the grass
It was hard on Lucy Mr Beebe sympathized with her very much While she believed that her snub about the Miss Alans came from Sir Harry Otway she had borne it like a good girl She might well screech when she heard that it came partly from her lover Mr Vyse was a tease—something worse than a tease he took a malicious pleasure in thwarting people The clergyman knowing this looked at Miss Honeychurch with more than his usual kindness
When she exclaimed But Cecils Emersons—they cant possibly be the same ones—there is that— he did not consider that the exclamation was strange but saw in it an opportunity of diverting the conversation while she recovered her composure He diverted it as follows
The Emersons who were at Florence do you mean No I dont suppose it will prove to be them It is probably a long cry from them to friends of Mr Vyses Oh Mrs Honeychurch the oddest people The queerest people For our part we liked them didnt we He appealed to Lucy There was a great scene over some violets They picked violets and filled all the vases in the room of these very Miss Alans who have failed to come to Cissie Villa Poor little ladies So shocked and so pleased It used to be one of Miss Catharines great stories My dear sister loves flowers it began They found the whole room a mass of blue—vases and jugs—and the story ends with So ungentlemanly and yet so beautiful It is all very difficult Yes I always connect those Florentine Emersons with violets
Fiascos done you this time remarked Freddy not seeing that his sisters face was very red She could not recover herself Mr Beebe saw it and continued to divert the conversation
These particular Emersons consisted of a father and a son—the son a goodly if not a good young man not a fool I fancy but very immature—pessimism et cetera Our special joy was the father—such a sentimental darling and people declared he had murdered his wife
In his normal state Mr Beebe would never have repeated such gossip but he was trying to shelter Lucy in her little trouble He repeated any rubbish that came into his head
Murdered his wife said Mrs Honeychurch Lucy dont desert us—go on playing bumblepuppy Really the Pension Bertolini must have been the oddest place Thats the second murderer Ive heard of as being there Whatever was Charlotte doing to stop Bytheby we really must ask Charlotte here some time
Mr Beebe could recall no second murderer He suggested that his hostess was mistaken At the hint of opposition she warmed She was perfectly sure that there had been a second tourist of whom the same story had been told The name escaped her What was the name Oh what was the name She clasped her knees for the name Something in Thackeray She struck her matronly forehead
Lucy asked her brother whether Cecil was in
Oh dont go he cried and tried to catch her by the ankles
I must go she said gravely Dont be silly You always overdo it when you play
As she left them her mothers shout of Harris shivered the tranquil air and reminded her that she had told a lie and had never put it right Such a senseless lie too yet it shattered her nerves and made her connect these Emersons friends of Cecils with a pair of nondescript tourists Hitherto truth had come to her naturally She saw that for the future she must be more vigilant and be—absolutely truthful Well at all events she must not tell lies She hurried up the garden still flushed with shame A word from Cecil would soothe her she was sure
Cecil
Hullo he called and leant out of the smokingroom window He seemed in high spirits I was hoping youd come I heard you all beargardening but theres better fun up here I even I have won a great victory for the Comic Muse George Merediths right—the cause of Comedy and the cause of Truth are really the same and I even I have found tenants for the distressful Cissie Villa Dont be angry Dont be angry Youll forgive me when you hear it all
He looked very attractive when his face was bright and he dispelled her ridiculous forebodings at once
I have heard she said Freddy has told us Naughty Cecil I suppose I must forgive you Just think of all the trouble I took for nothing Certainly the Miss Alans are a little tiresome and Id rather have nice friends of yours But you oughtnt to tease one so
Friends of mine he laughed But Lucy the whole joke is to come Come here But she remained standing where she was Do you know where I met these desirable tenants In the National Gallery when I was up to see my mother last week
What an odd place to meet people she said nervously I dont quite understand
In the Umbrian Room Absolute strangers They were admiring Luca Signorelli—of course quite stupidly However we got talking and they refreshed me not—a little They had been to Italy
But Cecil— proceeded hilariously
In the course of conversation they said that they wanted a country cottage—the father to live there the son to run down for weekends I thought What a chance of scoring off Sir Harry and I took their address and a London reference found they werent actual blackguards—it was great sport—and wrote to him making out—
Cecil No its not fair Ive probably met them before—
He bore her down
Perfectly fair Anything is fair that punishes a snob That old man will do the neighbourhood a world of good Sir Harry is too disgusting with his decayed gentlewomen I meant to read him a lesson some time No Lucy the classes ought to mix and before long youll agree with me There ought to be intermarriage—all sorts of things I believe in democracy—
No you dont she snapped You dont know what the word means
He stared at her and felt again that she had failed to be Leonardesque No you dont
Her face was inartistic—that of a peevish virago
It isnt fair Cecil I blame you—I blame you very much indeed You had no business to undo my work about the Miss Alans and make me look ridiculous You call it scoring off Sir Harry but do you realize that it is all at my expense I consider it most disloyal of you
She left him
Temper he thought raising his eyebrows
No it was worse than temper—snobbishness As long as Lucy thought that his own smart friends were supplanting the Miss Alans she had not minded He perceived that these new tenants might be of value educationally He would tolerate the father and draw out the son who was silent In the interests of the Comic Muse and of Truth he would bring them to Windy Corner
Chapter XI In Mrs Vyses WellAppointed Flat
The Comic Muse though able to look after her own interests did not disdain the assistance of Mr Vyse His idea of bringing the Emersons to Windy Corner struck her as decidedly good and she carried through the negotiations without a hitch Sir Harry Otway signed the agreement met Mr Emerson who was duly disillusioned The Miss Alans were duly offended and wrote a dignified letter to Lucy whom they held responsible for the failure Mr Beebe planned pleasant moments for the newcomers and told Mrs Honeychurch that Freddy must call on them as soon as they arrived Indeed so ample was the Muses equipment that she permitted Mr Harris never a very robust criminal to droop his head to be forgotten and to die
Lucy—to descend from bright heaven to earth whereon there are shadows because there are hills—Lucy was at first plunged into despair but settled after a little thought that it did not matter the very least Now that she was engaged the Emersons would scarcely insult her and were welcome into the neighbourhood And Cecil was welcome to bring whom he would into the neighbourhood Therefore Cecil was welcome to bring the Emersons into the neighbourhood But as I say this took a little thinking and—so illogical are girls—the event remained rather greater and rather more dreadful than it should have done She was glad that a visit to Mrs Vyse now fell due the tenants moved into Cissie Villa while she was safe in the London flat
Cecil—Cecil darling she whispered the evening she arrived and crept into his arms
Cecil too became demonstrative He saw that the needful fire had been kindled in Lucy At last she longed for attention as a woman should and looked up to him because he was a man
So you do love me little thing he murmured
Oh Cecil I do I do I dont know what I should do without you
Several days passed Then she had a letter from Miss Bartlett A coolness had sprung up between the two cousins and they had not corresponded since they parted in August The coolness dated from what Charlotte would call the flight to Rome and in Rome it had increased amazingly For the companion who is merely uncongenial in the mediaeval world becomes exasperating in the classical Charlotte unselfish in the Forum would have tried a sweeter temper than Lucys and once in the Baths of Caracalla they had doubted whether they could continue their tour Lucy had said she would join the Vyses—Mrs Vyse was an acquaintance of her mother so there was no impropriety in the plan and Miss Bartlett had replied that she was quite used to being abandoned suddenly Finally nothing happened but the coolness remained and for Lucy was even increased when she opened the letter and read as follows It had been forwarded from Windy Corner
Tunbridge Wells
September
Dearest Lucia
I have news of you at last Miss Lavish has been bicycling in your parts but was not sure whether a call would be welcome Puncturing her tire near Summer Street and it being mended while she sat very woebegone in that pretty churchyard she saw to her astonishment a door open opposite and the younger Emerson man come out He said his father had just taken the house He SAID he did not know that you lived in the neighbourhood He never suggested giving Eleanor a cup of tea Dear Lucy I am much worried and I advise you to make a clean breast of his past behaviour to your mother Freddy and Mr Vyse who will forbid him to enter the house etc That was a great misfortune and I dare say you have told them already Mr Vyse is so sensitive I remember how I used to get on his nerves at Rome I am very sorry about it all and should not feel easy unless I warned you
Believe me
Your anxious and loving cousin
Charlotte
Lucy was much annoyed and replied as follows
Beauchamp Mansions SW
Dear Charlotte
Many thanks for your warning When Mr Emerson forgot himself on the mountain you made me promise not to tell mother because you said she would blame you for not being always with me I have kept that promise and cannot possibly tell her now I have said both to her and Cecil that I met the Emersons at Florence and that they are respectable people—which I do think—and the reason that he offered Miss Lavish no tea was probably that he had none himself She should have tried at the Rectory I cannot begin making a fuss at this stage You must see that it would be too absurd If the Emersons heard I had complained of them they would think themselves of importance which is exactly what they are not I like the old father and look forward to seeing him again As for the son I am sorry for him when we meet rather than for myself They are known to Cecil who is very well and spoke of you the other day We expect to be married in January
Miss Lavish cannot have told you much about me for I am not at Windy Corner at all but here Please do not put Private outside your envelope again No one opens my letters
Yours affectionately
L M Honeychurch
Secrecy has this disadvantage we lose the sense of proportion we cannot tell whether our secret is important or not Were Lucy and her cousin closeted with a great thing which would destroy Cecils life if he discovered it or with a little thing which he would laugh at Miss Bartlett suggested the former. Perhaps she was right It had become a great thing now Left to herself Lucy would have told her mother and her lover ingenuously and it would have remained a little thing Emerson not Harris it was only that a few weeks ago She tried to tell Cecil even now when they were laughing about some beautiful lady who had smitten his heart at school But her body behaved so ridiculously that she stopped
She and her secret stayed ten days longer in the deserted Metropolis visiting the scenes they were to know so well later on It did her no harm Cecil thought to learn the framework of society while society itself was absent on the golflinks or the moors The weather was cool and it did her no harm In spite of the season Mrs Vyse managed to scrape together a dinnerparty consisting entirely of the grandchildren of famous people The food was poor but the talk had a witty weariness that impressed the girl One was tired of everything it seemed One launched into enthusiasms only to collapse gracefully and pick oneself up amid sympathetic laughter In this atmosphere the Pension Bertolini and Windy Corner appeared equally crude and Lucy saw that her London career would estrange her a little from all that she had loved in the past
The grandchildren asked her to play the piano
She played Schumann Now some Beethoven called Cecil when the querulous beauty of the music had died She shook her head and played Schumann again The melody rose unprofitably magical It broke it was resumed broken not marching once from the cradle to the grave The sadness of the incomplete—the sadness that is often Life but should never be Art—throbbed in its disjected phrases and made the nerves of the audience throb Not thus had she played on the little draped piano at the Bertolini and Too much Schumann was not the remark that Mr Beebe had passed to himself when she returned
When the guests were gone and Lucy had gone to bed Mrs Vyse paced up and down the drawingroom discussing her little party with her son Mrs Vyse was a nice woman but her personality like many anothers had been swamped by London for it needs a strong head to live among many people The too vast orb of her fate had crushed her and she had seen too many seasons too many cities too many men for her abilities and even with Cecil she was mechanical and behaved as if he was not one son but so to speak a filial crowd
Make Lucy one of us she said looking round intelligently at the end of each sentence and straining her lips apart until she spoke again Lucy is becoming wonderful—wonderful
Her music always was wonderful
Yes but she is purging off the Honeychurch taint most excellent Honeychurches but you know what I mean She is not always quoting servants or asking one how the pudding is made
Italy has done it
Perhaps she murmured thinking of the museum that represented Italy to her It is just possible Cecil mind you marry her next January She is one of us already
But her music he exclaimed The style of her How she kept to Schumann when like an idiot I wanted Beethoven Schumann was right for this evening Schumann was the thing Do you know mother I shall have our children educated just like Lucy Bring them up among honest country folks for freshness send them to Italy for subtlety and then—not till then—let them come to London I dont believe in these London educations— He broke off remembering that he had had one himself and concluded At all events not for women
Make her one of us repeated Mrs Vyse and processed to bed
As she was dozing off a cry—the cry of nightmare—rang from Lucys room Lucy could ring for the maid if she liked but Mrs Vyse thought it kind to go herself She found the girl sitting upright with her hand on her cheek
I am so sorry Mrs Vyse—it is these dreams
Bad dreams
Just dreams
The elder lady smiled and kissed her saying very distinctly You should have heard us talking about you dear He admires you more than ever Dream of that
Lucy returned the kiss still covering one cheek with her hand Mrs Vyse recessed to bed Cecil whom the cry had not awoke snored Darkness enveloped the flat
Chapter XII Twelfth Chapter
It was a Saturday afternoon gay and brilliant after abundant rains and the spirit of youth dwelt in it though the season was now autumn All that was gracious triumphed As the motorcars passed through Summer Street they raised only a little dust and their stench was soon dispersed by the wind and replaced by the scent of the wet birches or of the pines Mr Beebe at leisure for lifes amenities leant over his Rectory gate Freddy leant by him smoking a pendant pipe
Suppose we go and hinder those new people opposite for a little
Mm
They might amuse you
Freddy whom his fellowcreatures never amused suggested that the new people might be feeling a bit busy and so on since they had only just moved in
I suggested we should hinder them said Mr Beebe They are worth it Unlatching the gate he sauntered over the triangular green to Cissie Villa Hullo he cried shouting in at the open door through which much squalor was visible
A grave voice replied Hullo
Ive brought some one to see you
Ill be down in a minute
The passage was blocked by a wardrobe which the removal men had failed to carry up the stairs Mr Beebe edged round it with difficulty The sittingroom itself was blocked with books
Are these people great readers Freddy whispered Are they that sort
I fancy they know how to read—a rare accomplishment What have they got Byron Exactly A Shropshire Lad Never heard of it The Way of All Flesh Never heard of it Gibbon Hullo dear George reads German Um—um—Schopenhauer Nietzsche and so we go on Well I suppose your generation knows its own business Honeychurch
Mr Beebe look at that said Freddy in awestruck tones
On the cornice of the wardrobe the hand of an amateur had painted this inscription Mistrust all enterprises that require new clothes
I know Isnt it jolly I like that Im certain thats the old mans doing
How very odd of him
Surely you agree
But Freddy was his mothers son and felt that one ought not to go on spoiling the furniture
Pictures the clergyman continued scrambling about the room Giotto—they got that at Florence Ill be bound
The same as Lucys got
Oh bytheby did Miss Honeychurch enjoy London
She came back yesterday
I suppose she had a good time
Yes very said Freddy taking up a book She and Cecil are thicker than ever
Thats good hearing
I wish I wasnt such a fool Mr Beebe
Mr Beebe ignored the remark
Lucy used to be nearly as stupid as I am but itll be very different now mother thinks She will read all kinds of books
So will you
Only medical books Not books that you can talk about afterwards Cecil is teaching Lucy Italian and he says her playing is wonderful There are all kinds of things in it that we have never noticed Cecil says—
What on earth are those people doing upstairs Emerson—we think well come another time
George ran downstairs and pushed them into the room without speaking
Let me introduce Mr Honeychurch a neighbour
Then Freddy hurled one of the thunderbolts of youth Perhaps he was shy perhaps he was friendly or perhaps he thought that Georges face wanted washing At all events he greeted him with How dye do Come and have a bathe
Oh all right said George impassive
Mr Beebe was highly entertained
How dye do how dye do Come and have a bathe he chuckled Thats the best conversational opening Ive ever heard But Im afraid it will only act between men Can you picture a lady who has been introduced to another lady by a third lady opening civilities with How do you do Come and have a bathe And yet you will tell me that the sexes are equal."
I tell you that they shall be said Mr Emerson who had been slowly descending the stairs Good afternoon Mr Beebe I tell you they shall be comrades and George thinks the same
We are to raise ladies to our level the clergyman inquired
The Garden of Eden pursued Mr Emerson still descending which you place in the past is really yet to come We shall enter it when we no longer despise our bodies
Mr Beebe disclaimed placing the Garden of Eden anywhere
In this—not in other things—we men are ahead We despise the body less than women do But not until we are comrades shall we enter the garden
I say what about this bathe murmured Freddy appalled at the mass of philosophy that was approaching him
I believed in a return to Nature once But how can we return to Nature when we have never been with her Today I believe that we must discover Nature After many conquests we shall attain simplicity It is our heritage
Let me introduce Mr Honeychurch whose sister you will remember at Florence
How do you do Very glad to see you and that you are taking George for a bathe Very glad to hear that your sister is going to marry Marriage is a duty I am sure that she will be happy for we know Mr Vyse too He has been most kind He met us by chance in the National Gallery and arranged everything about this delightful house Though I hope I have not vexed Sir Harry Otway I have met so few Liberal landowners and I was anxious to compare his attitude towards the game laws with the Conservative attitude Ah this wind You do well to bathe Yours is a glorious country Honeychurch
Not a bit mumbled Freddy I must—that is to say I have to—have the pleasure of calling on you later on my mother says I hope
CALL my lad Who taught us that drawingroom twaddle Call on your grandmother Listen to the wind among the pines Yours is a glorious country
Mr Beebe came to the rescue
Mr Emerson he will call I shall call you or your son will return our calls before ten days have elapsed I trust that you have realized about the ten days interval It does not count that I helped you with the staireyes yesterday It does not count that they are going to bathe this afternoon
Yes go and bathe George Why do you dawdle talking Bring them back to tea Bring back some milk cakes honey The change will do you good George has been working very hard at his office I cant believe hes well
George bowed his head dusty and sombre exhaling the peculiar smell of one who has handled furniture
Do you really want this bathe Freddy asked him It is only a pond dont you know I dare say you are used to something better
Yes—I have said Yes already
Mr Beebe felt bound to assist his young friend and led the way out of the house and into the pinewoods How glorious it was For a little time the voice of old Mr Emerson pursued them dispensing good wishes and philosophy It ceased and they only heard the fair wind blowing the bracken and the trees Mr Beebe who could be silent but who could not bear silence was compelled to chatter since the expedition looked like a failure and neither of his companions would utter a word He spoke of Florence George attended gravely assenting or dissenting with slight but determined gestures that were as inexplicable as the motions of the treetops above their heads
And what a coincidence that you should meet Mr Vyse Did you realize that you would find all the Pension Bertolini down here
I did not Miss Lavish told me
When I was a young man I always meant to write a History of Coincidence
No enthusiasm
Though as a matter of fact, coincidences are much rarer than we suppose For example, it isnt purely coincidentally that you are here now when one comes to reflect
To his relief George began to talk
It is I have reflected It is Fate Everything is Fate We are flung together by Fate drawn apart by Fate—flung together drawn apart The twelve winds blow us—we settle nothing—
You have not reflected at all rapped the clergyman Let me give you a useful tip Emerson attribute nothing to Fate Dont say I didnt do this for you did it ten to one Now Ill crossquestion you Where did you first meet Miss Honeychurch and myself
Italy
And where did you meet Mr Vyse who is going to marry Miss Honeychurch
National Gallery
Looking at Italian art There you are and yet you talk of coincidence and Fate You naturally seek out things Italian and so do we and our friends This narrows the field immeasurably we meet again in it
It is Fate that I am here persisted George But you can call it Italy if it makes you less unhappy
Mr Beebe slid away from such heavy treatment of the subject But he was infinitely tolerant of the young and had no desire to snub George
And so for this and for other reasons my History of Coincidence is still to write
Silence
Wishing to round off the episode he added We are all so glad that you have come
Silence
Here we are called Freddy
Oh good exclaimed Mr Beebe mopping his brow
In theres the pond I wish it was bigger he added apologetically
They climbed down a slippery bank of pineneedles There lay the pond set in its little alp of green—only a pond but large enough to contain the human body and pure enough to reflect the sky On account of the rains the waters had flooded the surrounding grass which showed like a beautiful emerald path tempting these feet towards the central pool
Its distinctly successful as ponds go said Mr Beebe No apologies are necessary for the pond
George sat down where the ground was dry and drearily unlaced his boots
Arent those masses of willowherb splendid I love willowherb in seed Whats the name of this aromatic plant
No one knew or seemed to care
These abrupt changes of vegetation—this little spongeous tract of water plants and on either side of it all the growths are tough or brittle—heather bracken hurts pines Very charming very charming
Mr Beebe arent you bathing called Freddy as he stripped himself
Mr Beebe thought he was not
Waters wonderful cried Freddy prancing in
Waters water murmured George Wetting his hair first—a sure sign of apathy—he followed Freddy into the divine as indifferent as if he were a statue and the pond a pail of soapsuds It was necessary to use his muscles It was necessary to keep clean Mr Beebe watched them and watched the seeds of the willowherb dance chorically above their heads
Apooshoo apooshoo apooshoo went Freddy swimming for two strokes in either direction and then becoming involved in reeds or mud
Is it worth it asked the other Michelangelesque on the flooded margin
The bank broke away and he fell into the pool before he had weighed the question properly
Heepoof—Ive swallowed a pollywog Mr Beebe waters wonderful waters simply ripping
Waters not so bad said George reappearing from his plunge and sputtering at the sun
Waters wonderful Mr Beebe do
Apooshoo kouf
Mr Beebe who was hot and who always acquiesced where possible looked around him He could detect no parishioners except the pinetrees rising up steeply on all sides and gesturing to each other against the blue How glorious it was The world of motorcars and rural Deans receded inimitably Water sky evergreens a wind—these things not even the seasons can touch and surely they lie beyond the intrusion of man
I may as well wash too and soon his garments made a third little pile on the sward and he too asserted the wonder of the water
It was ordinary water nor was there very much of it and as Freddy said it reminded one of swimming in a salad The three gentlemen rotated in the pool breast high after the fashion of the nymphs in Gotterdammerung But either because the rains had given a freshness or because the sun was shedding a most glorious heat or because two of the gentlemen were young in years and the third young in spirit—for some reason or other a change came over them and they forgot Italy and Botany and Fate They began to play Mr Beebe and Freddy splashed each other A little deferentially they splashed George He was quiet they feared they had offended him Then all the forces of youth burst out He smiled flung himself at them splashed them ducked them kicked them muddied them and drove them out of the pool
Race you round it then cried Freddy and they raced in the sunshine and George took a short cut and dirtied his shins and had to bathe a second time Then Mr Beebe consented to run—a memorable sight
They ran to get dry they bathed to get cool they played at being Indians in the willowherbs and in the bracken they bathed to get clean And all the time three little bundles lay discreetly on the sward proclaiming
No We are what matters Without us shall no enterprise begin To us shall all flesh turn in the end
A try A try yelled Freddy snatching up Georges bundle and placing it beside an imaginary goalpost
Socker rules George retorted scattering Freddys bundle with a kick
Goal
Goal
Pass
Take care my watch cried Mr Beebe
Clothes flew in all directions
Take care my hat No thats enough Freddy Dress now No I say
But the two young men were delirious Away they twinkled into the trees Freddy with a clerical waistcoat under his arm George with a wideawake hat on his dripping hair
Thatll do shouted Mr Beebe remembering that after all he was in his own parish Then his voice changed as if every pinetree was a Rural Dean Hi Steady on I see people coming you fellows
Yells and widening circles over the dappled earth
Hi hi LADIES
Neither George nor Freddy was truly refined Still they did not hear Mr Beebes last warning or they would have avoided Mrs Honeychurch Cecil and Lucy who were walking down to call on old Mrs Butterworth Freddy dropped the waistcoat at their feet and dashed into some bracken George whooped in their faces turned and scudded away down the path to the pond still clad in Mr Beebes hat
Gracious alive cried Mrs Honeychurch Whoever were those unfortunate people Oh dears look away And poor Mr Beebe too Whatever has happened
Come this way immediately commanded Cecil who always felt that he must lead women though knew not whither and protect them though he knew not against what He led them now towards the bracken where Freddy sat concealed
Oh poor Mr Beebe Was that his waistcoat we left in the path Cecil Mr Beebes waistcoat—
No business of ours said Cecil glancing at Lucy who was all parasol and evidently minded
I fancy Mr Beebe jumped back into the pond
This way please Mrs Honeychurch this way
They followed him up the bank attempting the tense yet nonchalant expression that is suitable for ladies on such occasions
Well I cant help it said a voice close ahead and Freddy reared a freckled face and a pair of snowy shoulders out of the fronds I cant be trodden on can I
Good gracious me dear so its you What miserable management Why not have a comfortable bath at home with hot and cold laid on
Look here mother a fellow must wash and a fellows got to dry and if another fellow—
Dear no doubt youre right as usual but you are in no position to argue Come Lucy They turned Oh look—dont look Oh poor Mr Beebe How unfortunate again—
For Mr Beebe was just crawling out of the pond On whose surface garments of an intimate nature did float while George the worldweary George shouted to Freddy that he had hooked a fish
And me Ive swallowed one answered he of the bracken Ive swallowed a pollywog It wriggleth in my tummy I shall die—Emerson you beast youve got on my bags
Hush dears said Mrs Honeychurch who found it impossible to remain shocked And do be sure you dry yourselves thoroughly first All these colds come of not drying thoroughly
Mother do come away said Lucy Oh for goodness sake do come
Hullo cried George so that again the ladies stopped
He regarded himself as dressed Barefoot barechested radiant and personable against the shadowy woods he called
Hullo Miss Honeychurch Hullo
Bow Lucy better bow Whoever is it I shall bow
Miss Honeychurch bowed
That evening and all that night the water ran away On the morrow the pool had shrunk to its old size and lost its glory It had been a call to the blood and to the relaxed will a passing benediction whose influence did not pass a holiness a spell a momentary chalice for youth
Chapter XIII How Miss Bartletts Boiler Was So Tiresome
How often had Lucy rehearsed this bow this interview But she had always rehearsed them indoors and with certain accessories which surely we have a right to assume Who could foretell that she and George would meet in the rout of a civilization amidst an army of coats and collars and boots that lay wounded over the sunlit earth She had imagined a young Mr Emerson who might be shy or morbid or indifferent or furtively impudent She was prepared for all of these But she had never imagined one who would be happy and greet her with the shout of the morning star
Indoors herself partaking of tea with old Mrs Butterworth she reflected that it is impossible to foretell the future with any degree of accuracy that it is impossible to rehearse life A fault in the scenery a face in the audience an irruption of the audience on to the stage and all our carefully planned gestures mean nothing or mean too much I will bow she had thought I will not shake hands with him That will be just the proper thing She had bowed—but to whom To gods to heroes to the nonsense of schoolgirls She had bowed across the rubbish that cumbers the world
So ran her thoughts while her faculties were busy with Cecil It was another of those dreadful engagement calls Mrs Butterworth had wanted to see him and he did not want to be seen He did not want to hear about hydrangeas why they change their colour at the seaside He did not want to join the C O S When cross he was always elaborate and made long clever answers where Yes or No would have done Lucy soothed him and tinkered at the conversation in a way that promised well for their married peace No one is perfect and surely it is wiser to discover the imperfections before wedlock Miss Bartlett indeed though not in word had taught the girl that this our life contains nothing satisfactory Lucy though she disliked the teacher regarded the teaching as profound and applied it to her lover
Lucy said her mother when they got home is anything the matter with Cecil
The question was ominous up till now Mrs Honeychurch had behaved with charity and restraint
No I dont think so mother Cecils all right
Perhaps hes tired
Lucy compromised perhaps Cecil was a little tired
Because otherwise—she pulled out her bonnetpins with gathering displeasure—because otherwise I cannot account for him
I do think Mrs Butterworth is rather tiresome if you mean that
Cecil has told you to think so You were devoted to her as a little girl and nothing will describe her goodness to you through the typhoid fever No—it is just the same thing everywhere
Let me just put your bonnet away may I
Surely he could answer her civilly for one halfhour
Cecil has a very high standard for people faltered Lucy seeing trouble ahead Its part of his ideals—it is really that that makes him sometimes seem—
Oh rubbish If high ideals make a young man rude the sooner he gets rid of them the better said Mrs Honeychurch handing her the bonnet
Now mother Ive seen you cross with Mrs Butterworth yourself
Not in that way At times I could wring her neck But not in that way No It is the same with Cecil all over
Bytheby—I never told you I had a letter from Charlotte while I was away in London
This attempt to divert the conversation was too puerile and Mrs Honeychurch resented it
Since Cecil came back from London nothing appears to please him Whenever I speak he winces—I see him Lucy it is useless to contradict me No doubt I am neither artistic nor literary nor intellectual nor musical but I cannot help the drawingroom furniture your father bought it and we must put up with it will Cecil kindly remember
I—I see what you mean and certainly Cecil oughtnt to But he does not mean to be uncivil—he once explained—it is the things that upset him—he is easily upset by ugly things—he is not uncivil to PEOPLE
Is it a thing or a person when Freddy sings
You cant expect a really musical person to enjoy comic songs as we do
Then why didnt he leave the room Why sit wriggling and sneering and spoiling everyones pleasure
We mustnt be unjust to people faltered Lucy Something had enfeebled her and the case for Cecil which she had mastered so perfectly in London would not come forth in an effective form The two civilizations had clashed—Cecil hinted that they might—and she was dazzled and bewildered as though the radiance that lies behind all civilization had blinded her eyes Good taste and bad taste were only catchwords garments of diverse cut and music itself dissolved to a whisper through pinetrees where the song is not distinguishable from the comic song
She remained in much embarrassment while Mrs Honeychurch changed her frock for dinner and every now and then she said a word and made things no better There was no concealing the fact Cecil had meant to be supercilious and he had succeeded And Lucy—she knew not why—wished that the trouble could have come at any other time
Go and dress dear youll be late
All right mother—
Dont say All right and stop Go
She obeyed but loitered disconsolately at the landing window It faced north so there was little view and no view of the sky Now as in the winter the pinetrees hung close to her eyes One connected the landing window with depression No definite problem menaced her but she sighed to herself Oh dear what shall I do what shall I do It seemed to her that every one else was behaving very badly And she ought not to have mentioned Miss Bartletts letter She must be more careful her mother was rather inquisitive and might have asked what it was about Oh dear should she do—and then Freddy came bounding upstairs and joined the ranks of the illbehaved
I say those are topping people
My dear baby how tiresome youve been You have no business to take them bathing in the Sacred its much too public It was all right for you but most awkward for every one else Do be more careful You forget the place is growing half suburban
I say is anything on tomorrow week
Not that I know of
Then I want to ask the Emersons up to Sunday tennis
Oh I wouldnt do that Freddy I wouldnt do that with all this muddle
Whats wrong with the court They wont mind a bump or two and Ive ordered new balls
I meant its better not I really mean it
He seized her by the elbows and humorously danced her up and down the passage She pretended not to mind but she could have screamed with temper Cecil glanced at them as he proceeded to his toilet and they impeded Mary with her brood of hotwater cans Then Mrs Honeychurch opened her door and said Lucy what a noise youre making I have something to say to you Did you say you had had a letter from Charlotte and Freddy ran away
Yes I really cant stop I must dress too
Hows Charlotte
All right
Lucy
The unfortunate girl returned
Youve a bad habit of hurrying away in the middle of ones sentences Did Charlotte mention her boiler
Her WHAT
Dont you remember that her boiler was to be had out in October and her bath cistern cleaned out and all kinds of terrible todoings
I cant remember all Charlottes worries said Lucy bitterly I shall have enough of my own now that you are not pleased with Cecil
Mrs Honeychurch might have flamed out She did not She said Come here old lady—thank you for putting away my bonnet—kiss me And though nothing is perfect Lucy felt for the moment that her mother and Windy Corner and the Weald in the declining sun were perfect
So the grittiness went out of life It generally did at Windy Corner At the last minute when the social machine was clogged hopelessly one member or other of the family poured in a drop of oil Cecil despised their methods—perhaps rightly At all events they were not his own
Dinner was at halfpast seven Freddy gabbled the grace and they drew up their heavy chairs and fell to Fortunately the men were hungry Nothing untoward occurred until the pudding Then Freddy said
Lucy whats Emerson like
I saw him in Florence said Lucy hoping that this would pass for a reply
Is he the clever sort or is he a decent chap
Ask Cecil it is Cecil who brought him here
He is the clever sort like myself said Cecil
Freddy looked at him doubtfully
How well did you know them at the Bertolini asked Mrs Honeychurch
Oh very slightly I mean Charlotte knew them even less than I did
Oh that reminds me—you never told me what Charlotte said in her letter
One thing and another said Lucy wondering whether she would get through the meal without a lie Among other things that an awful friend of hers had been bicycling through Summer Street wondered if shed come up and see us and mercifully didnt
Lucy I do call the way you talk unkind
She was a novelist said Lucy craftily The remark was a happy one for nothing roused Mrs Honeychurch so much as literature in the hands of females She would abandon every topic to inveigh against those women who instead of minding their houses and their children seek notoriety by print Her attitude was If books must be written let them be written by men and she developed it at great length while Cecil yawned and Freddy played at This year next year now never with his plumstones and Lucy artfully fed the flames of her mothers wrath But soon the conflagration died down and the ghosts began to gather in the darkness There were too many ghosts about The original ghost—that touch of lips on her cheek—had surely been laid long ago it could be nothing to her that a man had kissed her on a mountain once But it had begotten a spectral family—Mr Harris Miss Bartletts letter Mr Beebes memories of violets—and one or other of these was bound to haunt her before Cecils very eyes It was Miss Bartlett who returned now and with appalling vividness
I have been thinking Lucy of that letter of Charlottes How is she
I tore the thing up
Didnt she say how she was How does she sound Cheerful
Oh yes I suppose so—no—not very cheerful I suppose
Then depend upon it it IS the boiler I know myself how water preys upon ones mind I would rather anything else—even a misfortune with the meat
Cecil laid his hand over his eyes
So would I asserted Freddy backing his mother up—backing up the spirit of her remark rather than the substance.
And I have been thinking she added rather nervously surely we could squeeze Charlotte in here next week and give her a nice holiday while plumbers at Tunbridge Wells finish I have not seen poor Charlotte for so long
It was more than her nerves could stand And she could not protest violently after her mothers goodness to her upstairs
Mother no she pleaded Its impossible We cant have Charlotte on the top of the other things were squeezed to death as it is Freddys got a friend coming Tuesday theres Cecil and youve promised to take in Minnie Beebe because of the diphtheria scare It simply cant be done
Nonsense It can
If Minnie sleeps in the bath Not otherwise
Minnie can sleep with you
I wont have her
Then if youre so selfish Mr Floyd must share a room with Freddy
Miss Bartlett Miss Bartlett Miss Bartlett moaned Cecil again laying his hand over his eyes
Its impossible repeated Lucy I dont want to make difficulties but it really isnt fair on the maids to fill up the house so
Alas
The truth is dear you dont like Charlotte
No I dont And no more does Cecil She gets on our nerves You havent seen her lately and dont realize how tiresome she can be though so good So please mother dont worry us this last summer but spoil us by not asking her to come
Hear hear said Cecil
Mrs Honeychurch with more gravity than usual and with more feeling than she usually permitted herself replied This isnt very kind of you two You have each other and all these woods to walk in so full of beautiful things and poor Charlotte has only the water turned off and plumbers You are young dears and however clever young people are and however many books they read they will never guess what it feels like to grow old
Cecil crumbled his bread
I must say Cousin Charlotte was very kind to me that year I called on my bike put in Freddy She thanked me for coming till I felt like such a fool and fussed round no end to get an egg boiled for my tea just right
I know dear She is kind to every one and yet Lucy makes this difficulty when we try to give her some little return
But Lucy hardened her heart It was no good being kind to Miss Bartlett She had tried herself too often and too recently One might lay up treasure in heaven by the attempt but one enriched neither Miss Bartlett nor any one else upon earth She was reduced to saying I cant help it mother I dont like Charlotte I admit its horrid of me
From your own account you told her as much
Well she would leave Florence so stupidly She flurried—
The ghosts were returning they filled Italy they were even usurping the places she had known as a child The Sacred Lake would never be the same again and on Sunday week something would even happen to Windy Corner How would she fight against ghosts For a moment the visible world faded away and memories and emotions alone seemed real
I suppose Miss Bartlett must come since she boils eggs so well said Cecil who was in rather a happier frame of mind thanks to the admirable cooking
I didnt mean the egg was WELL boiled corrected Freddy because in point of fact she forgot to take it off and as a matter of fact I dont care for eggs I only meant how jolly kind she seemed
Cecil frowned again Oh these Honeychurches Eggs boilers hydrangeas maids—of such were their lives compact May me and Lucy get down from our chairs he asked with scarcely veiled insolence We dont want no dessert
Chapter XIV How Lucy Faced the External Situation Bravely
Of course Miss Bartlett accepted And equally of course she felt sure that she would prove a nuisance and begged to be given an inferior spare room—something with no view anything Her love to Lucy And equally of course George Emerson could come to tennis on the Sunday week
Lucy faced the situation bravely though like most of us she only faced the situation that encompassed her She never gazed inwards If at times strange images rose from the depths she put them down to nerves When Cecil brought the Emersons to Summer Street it had upset her nerves Charlotte would burnish up past foolishness and this might upset her nerves She was nervous at night When she talked to George—they met again almost immediately at the Rectory—his voice moved her deeply and she wished to remain near him How dreadful if she really wished to remain near him Of course the wish was due to nerves which love to play such perverse tricks upon us Once she had suffered from things that came out of nothing and meant she didnt know what Now Cecil had explained psychology to her one wet afternoon and all the troubles of youth in an unknown world could be dismissed
It is obvious enough for the reader to conclude She loves young Emerson A reader in Lucys place would not find it obvious Life is easy to chronicle but bewildering to practice and we welcome nerves or any other shibboleth that will cloak our personal desire She loved Cecil George made her nervous will the reader explain to her that the phrases should have been reversed
But the external situation—she will face that bravely
The meeting at the Rectory had passed off well enough Standing between Mr Beebe and Cecil she had made a few temperate allusions to Italy and George had replied She was anxious to show that she was not shy and was glad that he did not seem shy either
A nice fellow said Mr Beebe afterwards He will work off his crudities in time I rather mistrust young men who slip into life gracefully
Lucy said He seems in better spirits He laughs more
Yes replied the clergyman He is waking up
That was all But as the week wore on more of her defences fell and she entertained an image that had physical beauty In spite of the clearest directions Miss Bartlett contrived to bungle her arrival She was due at the SouthEastern station at Dorking whither Mrs Honeychurch drove to meet her She arrived at the London and Brighton station and had to hire a cab up No one was at home except Freddy and his friend who had to stop their tennis and to entertain her for a solid hour Cecil and Lucy turned up at four oclock and these with little Minnie Beebe made a somewhat lugubrious sextette upon the upper lawn for tea
I shall never forgive myself said Miss Bartlett who kept on rising from her seat and had to be begged by the united company to remain I have upset everything Bursting in on young people But I insist on paying for my cab up Grant that at any rate
Our visitors never do such dreadful things said Lucy while her brother in whose memory the boiled egg had already grown unsubstantial exclaimed in irritable tones Just what Ive been trying to convince Cousin Charlotte of Lucy for the last half hour
I do not feel myself an ordinary visitor said Miss Bartlett and looked at her frayed glove
All right if youd really rather Five shillings and I gave a bob to the driver
Miss Bartlett looked in her purse Only sovereigns and pennies Could any one give her change Freddy had half a quid and his friend had four halfcrowns Miss Bartlett accepted their moneys and then said But who am I to give the sovereign to
Lets leave it all till mother comes back suggested Lucy
No dear your mother may take quite a long drive now that she is not hampered with me We all have our little foibles and mine is the prompt settling of accounts
Here Freddys friend Mr Floyd made the one remark of his that need be quoted he offered to toss Freddy for Miss Bartletts quid A solution seemed in sight and even Cecil who had been ostentatiously drinking his tea at the view felt the eternal attraction of Chance and turned round
But this did not do either
Please—please—I know I am a sad spoilsport but it would make me wretched I should practically be robbing the one who lost
Freddy owes me fifteen shillings interposed Cecil So it will work out right if you give the pound to me
Fifteen shillings said Miss Bartlett dubiously How is that Mr Vyse
Because dont you see Freddy paid your cab Give me the pound and we shall avoid this deplorable gambling
Miss Bartlett who was poor at figures became bewildered and rendered up the sovereign amidst the suppressed gurgles of the other youths For a moment Cecil was happy He was playing at nonsense among his peers Then he glanced at Lucy in whose face petty anxieties had marred the smiles In January he would rescue his Leonardo from this stupefying twaddle
But I dont see that exclaimed Minnie Beebe who had narrowly watched the iniquitous transaction I dont see why Mr Vyse is to have the quid
Because of the fifteen shillings and the five they said solemnly Fifteen shillings and five shillings make one pound you see
But I dont see—
They tried to stifle her with cake
No thank you Im done I dont see why—Freddy dont poke me Miss Honeychurch your brothers hurting me Ow What about Mr Floyds ten shillings Ow No I dont see and I never shall see why Miss Whatshername shouldnt pay that bob for the driver
I had forgotten the driver said Miss Bartlett reddening Thank you dear for reminding me A shilling was it Can any one give me change for half a crown
Ill get it said the young hostess rising with decision
Cecil give me that sovereign No give me up that sovereign Ill get Euphemia to change it and well start the whole thing again from the beginning
Lucy—Lucy—what a nuisance I am protested Miss Bartlett and followed her across the lawn Lucy tripped ahead simulating hilarity When they were out of earshot Miss Bartlett stopped her wails and said quite briskly Have you told him about him yet
No I havent replied Lucy and then could have bitten her tongue for understanding so quickly what her cousin meant Let me see—a sovereigns worth of silver
She escaped into the kitchen Miss Bartletts sudden transitions were too uncanny It sometimes seemed as if she planned every word she spoke or caused to be spoken as if all this worry about cabs and change had been a ruse to surprise the soul
No I havent told Cecil or any one she remarked when she returned I promised you I shouldnt Here is your money—all shillings except two halfcrowns Would you count it You can settle your debt nicely now
Miss Bartlett was in the drawingroom gazing at the photograph of St John ascending which had been framed
How dreadful she murmured how more than dreadful if Mr Vyse should come to hear of it from some other source
Oh no Charlotte said the girl entering the battle George Emerson is all right and what other source is there
Miss Bartlett considered For instance the driver I saw him looking through the bushes at you remember he had a violet between his teeth
Lucy shuddered a little We shall get the silly affair on our nerves if we arent careful How could a Florentine cabdriver ever get hold of Cecil
We must think of every possibility
Oh its all right
Or perhaps old Mr Emerson knows In fact he is certain to know
I dont care if he does I was grateful to you for your letter but even if the news does get round I think I can trust Cecil to laugh at it
To contradict it
No to laugh at it But she knew in her heart that she could not trust him for he desired her untouched
Very well dear you know best Perhaps gentlemen are different to what they were when I was young Ladies are certainly different
Now Charlotte She struck at her playfully You kind anxious thing What WOULD you have me do First you say Dont tell and then you say Tell Which is it to be Quick
Miss Bartlett sighed I am no match for you in conversation dearest I blush when I think how I interfered at Florence and you so well able to look after yourself and so much cleverer in all ways than I am You will never forgive me
Shall we go out then They will smash all the china if we dont
For the air rang with the shrieks of Minnie who was being scalped with a teaspoon
Dear one moment—we may not have this chance for a chat again Have you seen the young one yet
Yes I have
What happened
We met at the Rectory
What line is he taking up
No line He talked about Italy like any other person It is really all right What advantage would he get from being a cad to put it bluntly I do wish I could make you see it my way He really wont be any nuisance Charlotte
Once a cad always a cad That is my poor opinion
Lucy paused Cecil said one day—and I thought it so profound—that there are two kinds of cads—the conscious and the subconscious She paused again to be sure of doing justice to Cecils profundity Through the window she saw Cecil himself turning over the pages of a novel It was a new one from Smiths library Her mother must have returned from the station
Once a cad always a cad droned Miss Bartlett
What I mean by subconscious is that Emerson lost his head I fell into all those violets and he was silly and surprised I dont think we ought to blame him very much It makes such a difference when you see a person with beautiful things behind him unexpectedly It really does it makes an enormous difference and he lost his head he doesnt admire me or any of that nonsense one straw Freddy rather likes him and has asked him up here on Sunday so you can judge for yourself He has improved he doesnt always look as if hes going to burst into tears He is a clerk in the General Managers office at one of the big railways—not a porter and runs down to his father for weekends Papa was to do with journalism but is rheumatic and has retired There Now for the garden She took hold of her guest by the arm Suppose we dont talk about this silly Italian business any more We want you to have a nice restful visit at Windy Corner with no worriting
Lucy thought this rather a good speech The reader may have detected an unfortunate slip in it Whether Miss Bartlett detected the slip one cannot say for it is impossible to penetrate into the minds of elderly people She might have spoken further but they were interrupted by the entrance of her hostess Explanations took place and in the midst of them Lucy escaped the images throbbing a little more vividly in her brain
Chapter XV The Disaster Within
The Sunday after Miss Bartletts arrival was a glorious day like most of the days of that year In the Weald autumn approached breaking up the green monotony of summer touching the parks with the grey bloom of mist the beechtrees with russet the oaktrees with gold Up on the heights battalions of black pines witnessed the change themselves unchangeable Either country was spanned by a cloudless sky and in either arose the tinkle of church bells
The garden of Windy Corners was deserted except for a red book which lay sunning itself upon the gravel path From the house came incoherent sounds as of females preparing for worship The men say they wont go—Well I dont blame them—Minnie says need she go—Tell her no nonsense—Anne Mary Hook me behind—Dearest Lucia may I trespass upon you for a pin For Miss Bartlett had announced that she at all events was one for church
The sun rose higher on its journey guided not by Phaethon but by Apollo competent unswerving divine Its rays fell on the ladies whenever they advanced towards the bedroom windows on Mr Beebe down at Summer Street as he smiled over a letter from Miss Catharine Alan on George Emerson cleaning his fathers boots and lastly to complete the catalogue of memorable things on the red book mentioned previously The ladies move Mr Beebe moves George moves and movement may engender shadow But this book lies motionless to be caressed all the morning by the sun and to raise its covers slightly as though acknowledging the caress
Presently Lucy steps out of the drawingroom window Her new cerise dress has been a failure and makes her look tawdry and wan At her throat is a garnet brooch on her finger a ring set with rubies—an engagement ring Her eyes are bent to the Weald She frowns a little—not in anger but as a brave child frowns when he is trying not to cry In all that expanse no human eye is looking at her and she may frown unrebuked and measure the spaces that yet survive between Apollo and the western hills
Lucy Lucy Whats that book Whos been taking a book out of the shelf and leaving it about to spoil
Its only the library book that Cecils been reading
But pick it up and dont stand idling there like a flamingo
Lucy picked up the book and glanced at the title listlessly Under a Loggia She no longer read novels herself devoting all her spare time to solid literature in the hope of catching Cecil up It was dreadful how little she knew and even when she thought she knew a thing like the Italian painters she found she had forgotten it Only this morning she had confused Francesco Francia with Piero della Francesca and Cecil had said What you arent forgetting your Italy already And this too had lent anxiety to her eyes when she saluted the dear view and the dear garden in the foreground and above them scarcely conceivable elsewhere the dear sun
Lucy—have you a sixpence for Minnie and a shilling for yourself
She hastened in to her mother who was rapidly working herself into a Sunday fluster
Its a special collection—I forget what for I do beg no vulgar clinking in the plate with halfpennies see that Minnie has a nice bright sixpence Where is the child Minnie That books all warped Gracious how plain you look Put it under the Atlas to press Minnie
Oh Mrs Honeychurch— from the upper regions
Minnie dont be late Here comes the horse—it was always the horse never the carriage Wheres Charlotte Run up and hurry her Why is she so long She had nothing to do She never brings anything but blouses Poor Charlotte—How I do detest blouses Minnie
Paganism is infectious—more infectious than diphtheria or piety—and the Rectors niece was taken to church protesting As usual she didnt see why Why shouldnt she sit in the sun with the young men The young men who had now appeared mocked her with ungenerous words Mrs Honeychurch defended orthodoxy and in the midst of the confusion Miss Bartlett dressed in the very height of the fashion came strolling down the stairs
Dear Marian I am very sorry but I have no small change—nothing but sovereigns and half crowns Could any one give me—
Yes easily Jump in Gracious me how smart you look What a lovely frock You put us all to shame
If I did not wear my best rags and tatters now when should I wear them said Miss Bartlett reproachfully She got into the victoria and placed herself with her back to the horse The necessary roar ensued and then they drove off
Goodbye Be good called out Cecil
Lucy bit her lip for the tone was sneering On the subject of church and so on they had had rather an unsatisfactory conversation He had said that people ought to overhaul themselves and she did not want to overhaul herself she did not know it was done Honest orthodoxy Cecil respected but he always assumed that honesty is the result of a spiritual crisis he could not imagine it as a natural birthright that might grow heavenward like flowers All that he said on this subject pained her though he exuded tolerance from every pore somehow the Emersons were different
She saw the Emersons after church There was a line of carriages down the road and the Honeychurch vehicle happened to be opposite Cissie Villa To save time they walked over the green to it and found father and son smoking in the garden
Introduce me said her mother Unless the young man considers that he knows me already
He probably did but Lucy ignored the Sacred Lake and introduced them formally Old Mr Emerson claimed her with much warmth and said how glad he was that she was going to be married She said yes she was glad too and then as Miss Bartlett and Minnie were lingering behind with Mr Beebe she turned the conversation to a less disturbing topic and asked him how he liked his new house
Very much he replied but there was a note of offence in his voice she had never known him offended before He added We find, though that the Miss Alans were coming and that we have turned them out Women mind such a thing I am very much upset about it
I believe that there was some misunderstanding said Mrs Honeychurch uneasily
Our landlord was told that we should be a different type of person said George who seemed disposed to carry the matter further He thought we should be artistic He is disappointed
And I wonder whether we ought to write to the Miss Alans and offer to give it up What do you think He appealed to Lucy
Oh stop now you have come said Lucy lightly She must avoid censuring Cecil For it was on Cecil that the little episode turned though his name was never mentioned
So George says He says that the Miss Alans must go to the wall Yet it does seem so unkind
There is only a certain amount of kindness in the world said George watching the sunlight flash on the panels of the passing carriages
Yes exclaimed Mrs Honeychurch Thats exactly what I say Why all this twiddling and twaddling over two Miss Alans
There is a certain amount of kindness just as there is a certain amount of light he continued in measured tones We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand and it is no good moving from place to place to save things because the shadow always follows Choose a place where you wont do harm—yes choose a place where you wont do very much harm and stand in it for all you are worth facing the sunshine
Oh Mr Emerson I see youre clever
Eh—
I see youre going to be clever I hope you didnt go behaving like that to poor Freddy
Georges eyes laughed and Lucy suspected that he and her mother would get on rather well
No I didnt he said He behaved that way to me It is his philosophy Only he starts life with it and I have tried the Note of Interrogation first
What DO you mean No never mind what you mean Dont explain He looks forward to seeing you this afternoon Do you play tennis Do you mind tennis on Sunday—
George mind tennis on Sunday George after his education distinguish between Sunday—
Very well George doesnt mind tennis on Sunday No more do I Thats settled Mr Emerson if you could come with your son we should be so pleased
He thanked her but the walk sounded rather far he could only potter about in these days
She turned to George And then he wants to give up his house to the Miss Alans
I know said George and put his arm round his fathers neck The kindness that Mr Beebe and Lucy had always known to exist in him came out suddenly like sunlight touching a vast landscape—a touch of the morning sun She remembered that in all his perversities he had never spoken against affection
Miss Bartlett approached
You know our cousin Miss Bartlett said Mrs Honeychurch pleasantly You met her with my daughter in Florence
Yes indeed said the old man and made as if he would come out of the garden to meet the lady Miss Bartlett promptly got into the victoria Thus entrenched she emitted a formal bow It was the pension Bertolini again the diningtable with the decanters of water and wine It was the old old battle of the room with the view
George did not respond to the bow Like any boy he blushed and was ashamed he knew that the chaperon remembered He said I—Ill come up to tennis if I can manage it and went into the house Perhaps anything that he did would have pleased Lucy but his awkwardness went straight to her heart men were not gods after all but as human and as clumsy as girls even men might suffer from unexplained desires and need help To one of her upbringing and of her destination the weakness of men was a truth unfamiliar but she had surmised it at Florence when George threw her photographs into the River Arno
George dont go cried his father who thought it a great treat for people if his son would talk to them George has been in such good spirits today and I am sure he will end by coming up this afternoon
Lucy caught her cousins eye Something in its mute appeal made her reckless Yes she said raising her voice I do hope he will Then she went to the carriage and murmured The old man hasnt been told I knew it was all right Mrs Honeychurch followed her and they drove away
Satisfactory that Mr Emerson had not been told of the Florence escapade yet Lucys spirits should not have leapt up as if she had sighted the ramparts of heaven Satisfactory yet surely she greeted it with disproportionate joy All the way home the horses hoofs sang a tune to her He has not told he has not told Her brain expanded the melody He has not told his father—to whom he tells all things It was not an exploit He did not laugh at me when I had gone She raised her hand to her cheek He does not love me No How terrible if he did But he has not told He will not tell
She longed to shout the words It is all right Its a secret between us two for ever Cecil will never hear She was even glad that Miss Bartlett had made her promise secrecy that last dark evening at Florence when they had knelt packing in his room The secret big or little was guarded
Only three English people knew of it in the world Thus she interpreted her joy She greeted Cecil with unusual radiance because she felt so safe As he helped her out of the carriage she said
The Emersons have been so nice George Emerson has improved enormously
How are my proteges asked Cecil who took no real interest in them and had long since forgotten his resolution to bring them to Windy Corner for educational purposes
Proteges she exclaimed with some warmth For the only relationship which Cecil conceived was feudal that of protector and protected He had no glimpse of the comradeship after which the girls soul yearned
You shall see for yourself how your proteges are George Emerson is coming up this afternoon He is a most interesting man to talk to Only dont— She nearly said Dont protect him But the bell was ringing for lunch and as often happened Cecil had paid no great attention to her remarks Charm not argument was to be her forte
Lunch was a cheerful meal Generally Lucy was depressed at meals Some one had to be soothed—either Cecil or Miss Bartlett or a Being not visible to the mortal eye—a Being who whispered to her soul It will not last this cheerfulness In January you must go to London to entertain the grandchildren of celebrated men But today she felt she had received a guarantee Her mother would always sit there her brother here The sun though it had moved a little since the morning would never be hidden behind the western hills After luncheon they asked her to play She had seen Glucks Armide that year and played from memory the music of the enchanted garden—the music to which Renaud approaches beneath the light of an eternal dawn the music that never gains never wanes but ripples for ever like the tideless seas of fairyland Such music is not for the piano and her audience began to get restive and Cecil sharing the discontent called out Now play us the other garden—the one in Parsifal
She closed the instrument
Not very dutiful said her mothers voice
Fearing that she had offended Cecil she turned quickly round There George was He had crept in without interrupting her
Oh I had no idea she exclaimed getting very red and then without a word of greeting she reopened the piano Cecil should have the Parsifal and anything else that he liked
Our performer has changed her mind said Miss Bartlett perhaps implying she will play the music to Mr Emerson Lucy did not know what to do nor even what she wanted to do She played a few bars of the Flower Maidens song very badly and then she stopped
I vote tennis said Freddy disgusted at the scrappy entertainment
Yes so do I Once more she closed the unfortunate piano I vote you have a mens four
All right
Not for me thank you said Cecil I will not spoil the set He never realized that it may be an act of kindness in a bad player to make up a fourth
Oh come along Cecil Im bad Floyds rotten and so I dare says Emerson
George corrected him I am not bad
One looked down ones nose at this Then certainly I wont play said Cecil while Miss Bartlett under the impression that she was snubbing George added I agree with you Mr Vyse You had much better not play Much better not
Minnie rushing in where Cecil feared to tread announced that she would play I shall miss every ball anyway so what does it matter But Sunday intervened and stamped heavily upon the kindly suggestion
Then it will have to be Lucy said Mrs Honeychurch you must fall back on Lucy There is no other way out of it Lucy go and change your frock
Lucys Sabbath was generally of this amphibious nature She kept it without hypocrisy in the morning and broke it without reluctance in the afternoon As she changed her frock she wondered whether Cecil was sneering at her really she must overhaul herself and settle everything up before she married him
Mr Floyd was her partner She liked music but how much better tennis seemed How much better to run about in comfortable clothes than to sit at the piano and feel girt under the arms Once more music appeared to her the employment of a child George served and surprised her by his anxiety to win She remembered how he had sighed among the tombs at Santa Croce because things wouldnt fit how after the death of that obscure Italian he had leant over the parapet by the Arno and said to her I shall want to live I tell you He wanted to live now to win at tennis to stand for all he was worth in the sun—the sun which had begun to decline and was shining in her eyes and he did win
Ah how beautiful the Weald looked The hills stood out above its radiance as Fiesole stands above the Tuscan Plain and the South Downs if one chose were the mountains of Carrara She might be forgetting her Italy but she was noticing more things in her England One could play a new game with the view and try to find in its innumerable folds some town or village that would do for Florence Ah how beautiful the Weald looked
But now Cecil claimed her He chanced to be in a lucid critical mood and would not sympathize with exaltation He had been rather a nuisance all through the tennis for the novel that he was reading was so bad that he was obliged to read it aloud to others He would stroll round the precincts of the court and call out I say listen to this Lucy Three split infinitives
Dreadful said Lucy and missed her stroke When they had finished their set he still went on reading there was some murder scene and really every one must listen to it Freddy and Mr Floyd were obliged to hunt for a lost ball in the laurels but the other two acquiesced
The scene is laid in Florence
What fun Cecil Read away Come Mr Emerson sit down after all your energy She had forgiven George as she put it and she made a point of being pleasant to him
He jumped over the net and sat down at her feet asking You—and are you tired
Of course Im not
Do you mind being beaten
She was going to answer No when it struck her that she did mind so she answered Yes She added merrily I dont see youre such a splendid player though The light was behind you and it was in my eyes
I never said I was
Why you did
You didnt attend
You said—oh dont go in for accuracy at this house We all exaggerate and we get very angry with people who dont
The scene is laid in Florence repeated Cecil with an upward note
Lucy recollected herself
Sunset Leonora was speeding—
Lucy interrupted Leonora Is Leonora the heroine Whos the book by
Joseph Emery Prank Sunset Leonora speeding across the square Pray the saints she might not arrive too late Sunset—the sunset of Italy Under Orcagnas Loggia—the Loggia de Lanzi as we sometimes call it now—
Lucy burst into laughter Joseph Emery Prank indeed Why its Miss Lavish Its Miss Lavishs novel and shes publishing it under somebody elses name
Who may Miss Lavish be
Oh a dreadful person—Mr Emerson you remember Miss Lavish
Excited by her pleasant afternoon she clapped her hands
George looked up Of course I do I saw her the day I arrived at Summer Street It was she who told me that you lived here
Werent you pleased She meant to see Miss Lavish but when he bent down to the grass without replying it struck her that she could mean something else She watched his head which was almost resting against her knee and she thought that the ears were reddening No wonder the novels bad she added I never liked Miss Lavish But I suppose one ought to read it as ones met her
All modern books are bad said Cecil who was annoyed at her inattention and vented his annoyance on literature Every one writes for money in these days
Oh Cecil—
It is so I will inflict Joseph Emery Prank on you no longer
Cecil this afternoon seemed such a twittering sparrow The ups and downs in his voice were noticeable but they did not affect her She had dwelt amongst melody and movement and her nerves refused to answer to the clang of his Leaving him to be annoyed she gazed at the black head again She did not want to stroke it but she saw herself wanting to stroke it the sensation was curious
How do you like this view of ours Mr Emerson
I never notice much difference in views
What do you mean
Because theyre all alike Because all that matters in them is distance and air
Hm said Cecil uncertain whether the remark was striking or not
My father—he looked up at her and he was a little flushed—says that there is only one perfect view—the view of the sky straight over our heads and that all these views on earth are but bungled copies of it
I expect your father has been reading Dante said Cecil fingering the novel which alone permitted him to lead the conversation
He told us another day that views are really crowds—crowds of trees and houses and hills—and are bound to resemble each other like human crowds—and that the power they have over us is sometimes supernatural for the same reason
Lucys lips parted
For a crowd is more than the people who make it up Something gets added to it—no one knows how—just as something has got added to those hills
He pointed with his racquet to the South Downs
What a splendid idea she murmured I shall enjoy hearing your father talk again Im so sorry hes not so well
No he isnt well
Theres an absurd account of a view in this book said Cecil Also that men fall into two classes—those who forget views and those who remember them even in small rooms
Mr Emerson have you any brothers or sisters
None Why
You spoke of us
My mother I was meaning
Cecil closed the novel with a bang
Oh Cecil—how you made me jump
I will inflict Joseph Emery Prank on you no longer
I can just remember us all three going into the country for the day and seeing as far as Hindhead It is the first thing that I remember
Cecil got up the man was illbred—he hadnt put on his coat after tennis—he didnt do He would have strolled away if Lucy had not stopped him
Cecil do read the thing about the view
Not while Mr Emerson is here to entertain us
No—read away I think nothings funnier than to hear silly things read out loud If Mr Emerson thinks us frivolous he can go
This struck Cecil as subtle and pleased him It put their visitor in the position of a prig Somewhat mollified he sat down again
Mr Emerson go and find tennis balls She opened the book Cecil must have his reading and anything else that he liked But her attention wandered to Georges mother who—according to Mr Eager—had been murdered in the sight of God according to her son—had seen as far as Hindhead
Am I really to go asked George
No of course not really she answered
Chapter two said Cecil yawning Find me chapter two if it isnt bothering you
Chapter two was found and she glanced at its opening sentences
She thought she had gone mad
Here—hand me the book
She heard her voice saying It isnt worth reading—its too silly to read—I never saw such rubbish—it oughtnt to be allowed to be printed
He took the book from her
Leonora he read sat pensive and alone Before her lay the rich champaign of Tuscany dotted over with many a smiling village The season was spring
Miss Lavish knew somehow and had printed the past in draggled prose for Cecil to read and for George to hear
A golden haze he read He read Afar off the towers of Florence while the bank on which she sat was carpeted with violets All unobserved Antonio stole up behind her—
Lest Cecil should see her face she turned to George and saw his face
He read There came from his lips no wordy protestation such as formal lovers use No eloquence was his nor did he suffer from the lack of it He simply enfolded her in his manly arms
This isnt the passage I wanted he informed them there is another much funnier further on He turned over the leaves
Should we go in to tea said Lucy whose voice remained steady
She led the way up the garden Cecil following her George last She thought a disaster was averted But when they entered the shrubbery it came The book as if it had not worked mischief enough had been forgotten and Cecil must go back for it and George who loved passionately must blunder against her in the narrow path
No— she gasped and for the second time was kissed by him
As if no more was possible he slipped back Cecil rejoined her they reached the upper lawn alone
Chapter XVI Lying to George
But Lucy had developed since the spring That is to say she was now better able to stifle the emotions of which the conventions and the world disapprove Though the danger was greater she was not shaken by deep sobs She said to Cecil I am not coming in to tea—tell mother—I must write some letters and went up to her room Then she prepared for action Love felt and returned love which our bodies exact and our hearts have transfigured love which is the most real thing that we shall ever meet reappeared now as the worlds enemy and she must stifle it
She sent for Miss Bartlett
The contest lay not between love and duty Perhaps there never is such a contest It lay between the real and the pretended and Lucys first aim was to defeat herself As her brain clouded over as the memory of the views grew dim and the words of the book died away she returned to her old shibboleth of nerves She conquered her breakdown Tampering with the truth she forgot that the truth had ever been Remembering that she was engaged to Cecil she compelled herself to confused remembrances of George he was nothing to her he never had been anything he had behaved abominably she had never encouraged him The armour of falsehood is subtly wrought out of darkness and hides a man not only from others but from his own soul In a few moments Lucy was equipped for battle
Something too awful has happened she began as soon as her cousin arrived Do you know anything about Miss Lavishs novel
Miss Bartlett looked surprised and said that she had not read the book nor known that it was published Eleanor was a reticent woman at heart
There is a scene in it The hero and heroine make love Do you know about that
Dear—
Do you know about it please she repeated They are on a hillside and Florence is in the distance
My good Lucia I am all at sea I know nothing about it whatever
There are violets I cannot believe it is a coincidence Charlotte Charlotte how could you have told her I have thought before speaking it must be you
Told her what she asked with growing agitation
About that dreadful afternoon in February
Miss Bartlett was genuinely moved Oh Lucy dearest girl—she hasnt put that in her book
Lucy nodded
Not so that one could recognize it Yes
Then never—never—never more shall Eleanor Lavish be a friend of mine
So you did tell
I did just happen—when I had tea with her at Rome—in the course of conversation—
But Charlotte—what about the promise you gave me when we were packing Why did you tell Miss Lavish when you wouldnt even let me tell mother
I will never forgive Eleanor She has betrayed my confidence
Why did you tell her though This is a most serious thing
Why does any one tell anything The question is eternal and it was not surprising that Miss Bartlett should only sigh faintly in response She had done wrong—she admitted it she only hoped that she had not done harm she had told Eleanor in the strictest confidence
Lucy stamped with irritation
Cecil happened to read out the passage aloud to me and to Mr Emerson it upset Mr Emerson and he insulted me again Behind Cecils back Ugh Is it possible that men are such brutes Behind Cecils back as we were walking up the garden
Miss Bartlett burst into selfaccusations and regrets
What is to be done now Can you tell me
Oh Lucy—I shall never forgive myself never to my dying day Fancy if your prospects—
I know said Lucy wincing at the word I see now why you wanted me to tell Cecil and what you meant by some other source You knew that you had told Miss Lavish and that she was not reliable
It was Miss Bartletts turn to wince However said the girl despising her cousins shiftiness Whats dones done You have put me in a most awkward position How am I to get out of it
Miss Bartlett could not think The days of her energy were over She was a visitor not a chaperon and a discredited visitor at that She stood with clasped hands while the girl worked herself into the necessary rage
He must—that man must have such a setting down that he wont forget And whos to give it him I cant tell mother now—owing to you Nor Cecil Charlotte owing to you I am caught up every way I think I shall go mad I have no one to help me Thats why Ive sent for you Whats wanted is a man with a whip
Miss Bartlett agreed one wanted a man with a whip
Yes—but its no good agreeing Whats to be DONE We women go maundering on What DOES a girl do when she comes across a cad
I always said he was a cad dear Give me credit for that at all events From the very first moment—when he said his father was having a bath
Oh bother the credit and whos been right or wrong Weve both made a muddle of it George Emerson is still down the garden there and is he to be left unpunished or isnt he I want to know
Miss Bartlett was absolutely helpless Her own exposure had unnerved her and thoughts were colliding painfully in her brain She moved feebly to the window and tried to detect the cads white flannels among the laurels
You were ready enough at the Bertolini when you rushed me off to Rome Cant you speak again to him now
Willingly would I move heaven and earth—
I want something more definite said Lucy contemptuously Will you speak to him It is the least you can do surely considering it all happened because you broke your word
Never again shall Eleanor Lavish be a friend of mine
Really Charlotte was outdoing herself
Yes or no please yes or no
It is the kind of thing that only a gentleman can settle George Emerson was coming up the garden with a tennis ball in his hand
Very well said Lucy with an angry gesture No one will help me I will speak to him myself And immediately she realized that this was what her cousin had intended all along
Hullo Emerson called Freddy from below Found the lost ball Good man Want any tea And there was an irruption from the house on to the terrace
Oh Lucy but that is brave of you I admire you—
They had gathered round George who beckoned she felt over the rubbish the sloppy thoughts the furtive yearnings that were beginning to cumber her soul Her anger faded at the sight of him Ah The Emersons were fine people in their way She had to subdue a rush in her blood before saying
Freddy has taken him into the diningroom The others are going down the garden Come Let us get this over quickly Come I want you in the room of course
Lucy do you mind doing it
How can you ask such a ridiculous question
Poor Lucy— She stretched out her hand I seem to bring nothing but misfortune wherever I go Lucy nodded She remembered their last evening at Florence—the packing the candle the shadow of Miss Bartletts toque on the door She was not to be trapped by pathos a second time Eluding her cousins caress she led the way downstairs
Try the jam Freddy was saying The jams jolly good
George looking big and dishevelled was pacing up and down the diningroom As she entered he stopped and said
No—nothing to eat
You go down to the others said Lucy Charlotte and I will give Mr Emerson all he wants Wheres mother
Shes started on her Sunday writing Shes in the drawingroom
Thats all right You go away
He went off singing
Lucy sat down at the table Miss Bartlett who was thoroughly frightened took up a book and pretended to read
She would not be drawn into an elaborate speech She just said I cant have it Mr Emerson I cannot even talk to you Go out of this house and never come into it again as long as I live here— flushing as she spoke and pointing to the door I hate a row Go please
What—
No discussion
But I cant—
She shook her head Go please I do not want to call in Mr Vyse
You dont mean he said absolutely ignoring Miss Bartlett—you dont mean that you are going to marry that man
The line was unexpected
She shrugged her shoulders as if his vulgarity wearied her You are merely ridiculous she said quietly
Then his words rose gravely over hers You cannot live with Vyse Hes only for an acquaintance He is for society and cultivated talk He should know no one intimately least of all a woman
It was a new light on Cecils character
Have you ever talked to Vyse without feeling tired
I can scarcely discuss—
No but have you ever He is the sort who are all right so long as they keep to things—books pictures—but kill when they come to people Thats why Ill speak out through all this muddle even now Its shocking enough to lose you in any case but generally a man must deny himself joy and I would have held back if your Cecil had been a different person I would never have let myself go But I saw him first in the National Gallery when he winced because my father mispronounced the names of great painters Then he brings us here and we find it is to play some silly trick on a kind neighbour That is the man all over—playing tricks on people on the most sacred form of life that he can find Next I meet you together and find him protecting and teaching you and your mother to be shocked when it was for YOU to settle whether you were shocked or no Cecil all over again He darent let a woman decide Hes the type whos kept Europe back for a thousand years Every moment of his life hes forming you telling you whats charming or amusing or ladylike telling you what a man thinks womanly and you you of all women listen to his voice instead of to your own So it was at the Rectory when I met you both again so it has been the whole of this afternoon Therefore—not therefore I kissed you because the book made me do that and I wish to goodness I had more selfcontrol Im not ashamed I dont apologize But it has frightened you and you may not have noticed that I love you Or would you have told me to go and dealt with a tremendous thing so lightly But therefore—therefore I settled to fight him
Lucy thought of a very good remark
You say Mr Vyse wants me to listen to him Mr Emerson Pardon me for suggesting that you have caught the habit
And he took the shoddy reproof and touched it into immortality He said
Yes I have and sank down as if suddenly weary Im the same kind of brute at bottom This desire to govern a woman—it lies very deep and men and women must fight it together before they shall enter the garden But I do love you surely in a better way than he does He thought Yes—really in a better way I want you to have your own thoughts even when I hold you in my arms He stretched them towards her Lucy be quick—theres no time for us to talk now—come to me as you came in the spring and afterwards I will be gentle and explain I have cared for you since that man died I cannot live without you No good I thought she is marrying some one else but I meet you again when all the world is glorious water and sun As you came through the wood I saw that nothing else mattered I called I wanted to live and have my chance of joy
And Mr Vyse said Lucy who kept commendably calm Does he not matter That I love Cecil and shall be his wife shortly A detail of no importance I suppose
But he stretched his arms over the table towards her
May I ask what you intend to gain by this exhibition
He said It is our last chance I shall do all that I can And as if he had done all else he turned to Miss Bartlett who sat like some portent against the skies of the evening You wouldnt stop us this second time if you understood he said I have been into the dark and I am going back into it unless you will try to understand
Her long narrow head drove backwards and forwards as though demolishing some invisible obstacle She did not answer
It is being young he said quietly picking up his racquet from the floor and preparing to go It is being certain that Lucy cares for me really It is that love and youth matter intellectually
In silence the two women watched him His last remark they knew was nonsense but was he going after it or not Would not he the cad the charlatan attempt a more dramatic finish No He was apparently content He left them carefully closing the front door and when they looked through the hall window they saw him go up the drive and begin to climb the slopes of withered fern behind the house Their tongues were loosed and they burst into stealthy rejoicings
Oh Lucia—come back here—oh what an awful man
Lucy had no reaction—at least not yet Well he amuses me she said Either Im mad or else he is and Im inclined to think its the latter One more fuss through with you Charlotte Many thanks I think though that this is the last My admirer will hardly trouble me again
And Miss Bartlett too essayed the roguish
Well it isnt every one who could boast such a conquest dearest is it Oh one oughtnt to laugh really It might have been very serious But you were so sensible and brave—so unlike the girls of my day
Lets go down to them
But once in the open air she paused Some emotion—pity terror love but the emotion was strong—seized her and she was aware of autumn Summer was ending and the evening brought her odours of decay the more pathetic because they were reminiscent of spring That something or other mattered intellectually A leaf violently agitated danced past her while other leaves lay motionless That the earth was hastening to reenter darkness and the shadows of those trees over Windy Corner
Hullo Lucy Theres still light enough for another set if you twoll hurry
Mr Emerson has had to go
What a nuisance That spoils the four I say Cecil do play do theres a good chap Its Floyds last day Do play tennis with us just this once
Cecils voice came My dear Freddy I am no athlete As you well remarked this very morning There are some chaps who are no good for anything but books I plead guilty to being such a chap and will not inflict myself on you
The scales fell from Lucys eyes How had she stood Cecil for a moment He was absolutely intolerable and the same evening she broke off her engagement
Chapter XVII Lying to Cecil
He was bewildered He had nothing to say He was not even angry but stood with a glass of whiskey between his hands trying to think what had led her to such a conclusion
She had chosen the moment before bed when in accordance with their bourgeois habit she always dispensed drinks to the men Freddy and Mr Floyd were sure to retire with their glasses while Cecil invariably lingered sipping at his while she locked up the sideboard
I am very sorry about it she said I have carefully thought things over We are too different I must ask you to release me and try to forget that there ever was such a foolish girl
It was a suitable speech but she was more angry than sorry and her voice showed it
Different—how—how—
I havent had a really good education for one thing she continued still on her knees by the sideboard My Italian trip came too late and I am forgetting all that I learnt there I shall never be able to talk to your friends or behave as a wife of yours should
I dont understand you You arent like yourself Youre tired Lucy
Tired she retorted kindling at once That is exactly like you You always think women dont mean what they say
Well you sound tired as if something has worried you
What if I do It doesnt prevent me from realizing the truth I cant marry you and you will thank me for saying so some day
You had that bad headache yesterday—All right—for she had exclaimed indignantly I see its much more than headaches But give me a moments time He closed his eyes You must excuse me if I say stupid things but my brain has gone to pieces Part of it lives three minutes back when I was sure that you loved me and the other part—I find it difficult—I am likely to say the wrong thing
It struck her that he was not behaving so badly and her irritation increased She again desired a struggle not a discussion To bring on the crisis she said
There are days when one sees clearly and this is one of them Things must come to a breakingpoint some time and it happens to be today If you want to know quite a little thing decided me to speak to you—when you wouldnt play tennis with Freddy
I never do play tennis said Cecil painfully bewildered I never could play I dont understand a word you say
You can play well enough to make up a four I thought it abominably selfish of you
No I cant—well never mind the tennis Why couldnt you—couldnt you have warned me if you felt anything wrong You talked of our wedding at lunch—at least you let me talk
I knew you wouldnt understand said Lucy quite crossly I might have known there would have been these dreadful explanations Of course it isnt the tennis—that was only the last straw to all I have been feeling for weeks Surely it was better not to speak until I felt certain She developed this position Often before I have wondered if I was fitted for your wife—for instance in London and are you fitted to be my husband I dont think so You dont like Freddy nor my mother There was always a lot against our engagement Cecil but all our relations seemed pleased and we met so often and it was no good mentioning it until—well until all things came to a point They have today I see clearly I must speak Thats all
I cannot think you were right said Cecil gently I cannot tell why but though all that you say sounds true I feel that you are not treating me fairly Its all too horrible
Whats the good of a scene
No good But surely I have a right to hear a little more
He put down his glass and opened the window From where she knelt jangling her keys she could see a slit of darkness and peering into it as if it would tell him that little more his long thoughtful face
Dont open the window and youd better draw the curtain too Freddy or any one might be outside He obeyed I really think we had better go to bed if you dont mind I shall only say things that will make me unhappy afterwards As you say it is all too horrible and it is no good talking
But to Cecil now that he was about to lose her she seemed each moment more desirable He looked at her instead of through her for the first time since they were engaged From a Leonardo she had become a living woman with mysteries and forces of her own with qualities that even eluded art His brain recovered from the shock and in a burst of genuine devotion he cried But I love you and I did think you loved me
I did not she said I thought I did at first I am sorry and ought to have refused you this last time too
He began to walk up and down the room and she grew more and more vexed at his dignified behaviour She had counted on his being petty It would have made things easier for her By a cruel irony she was drawing out all that was finest in his disposition
You dont love me evidently I dare say you are right not to But it would hurt a little less if I knew why
Because—a phrase came to her and she accepted it—youre the sort who cant know any one intimately
A horrified look came into his eyes
I dont mean exactly that But you will question me though I beg you not to and I must say something It is that more or less When we were only acquaintances you let me be myself but now youre always protecting me Her voice swelled I wont be protected I will choose for myself what is ladylike and right To shield me is an insult Cant I be trusted to face the truth but I must get it secondhand through you A womans place You despise my mother—I know you do—because shes conventional and bothers over puddings but oh goodness—she rose to her feet—conventional Cecil youre that for you may understand beautiful things but you dont know how to use them and you wrap yourself up in art and books and music and would try to wrap up me I wont be stifled not by the most glorious music for people are more glorious and you hide them from me Thats why I break off my engagement You were all right as long as you kept to things but when you came to people— She stopped
There was a pause Then Cecil said with great emotion
It is true
True on the whole she corrected full of some vague shame
True every word It is a revelation It is—I
Anyhow those are my reasons for not being your wife
He repeated The sort that can know no one intimately It is true I fell to pieces the very first day we were engaged I behaved like a cad to Beebe and to your brother You are even greater than I thought She withdrew a step Im not going to worry you You are far too good to me I shall never forget your insight and dear I only blame you for this you might have warned me in the early stages before you felt you wouldnt marry me and so have given me a chance to improve I have never known you till this evening I have just used you as a peg for my silly notions of what a woman should be But this evening you are a different person new thoughts—even a new voice—
What do you mean by a new voice she asked seized with incontrollable anger
I mean that a new person seems speaking through you said he
Then she lost her balance She cried If you think I am in love with some one else you are very much mistaken
Of course I dont think that You are not that kind Lucy
Oh yes you do think it Its your old idea the idea that has kept Europe back—I mean the idea that women are always thinking of men If a girl breaks off her engagement every one says Oh she had some one else in her mind she hopes to get some one else Its disgusting brutal As if a girl cant break it off for the sake of freedom
He answered reverently I may have said that in the past I shall never say it again You have taught me better
She began to redden and pretended to examine the windows again Of course there is no question of some one else in this no jilting or any such nauseous stupidity I beg your pardon most humbly if my words suggested that there was I only meant that there was a force in you that I hadnt known of up till now
All right Cecil that will do Dont apologize to me It was my mistake
It is a question between ideals yours and mine—pure abstract ideals and yours are the nobler I was bound up in the old vicious notions and all the time you were splendid and new His voice broke I must actually thank you for what you have done—for showing me what I really am Solemnly I thank you for showing me a true woman Will you shake hands
Of course I will said Lucy twisting up her other hand in the curtains Goodnight Cecil Goodbye Thats all right Im sorry about it Thank you very much for your gentleness
Let me light your candle shall I
They went into the hall
Thank you Goodnight again God bless you Lucy
Goodbye Cecil
She watched him steal upstairs while the shadows from three banisters passed over her face like the beat of wings On the landing he paused strong in his renunciation and gave her a look of memorable beauty For all his culture Cecil was an ascetic at heart and nothing in his love became him like the leaving of it
She could never marry In the tumult of her soul that stood firm Cecil believed in her she must some day believe in herself She must be one of the women whom she had praised so eloquently who care for liberty and not for men she must forget that George loved her that George had been thinking through her and gained her this honourable release that George had gone away into—what was it—the darkness
She put out the lamp
It did not do to think nor for the matter of that to feel She gave up trying to understand herself and the vast armies of the benighted who follow neither the heart nor the brain and march to their destiny by catchwords The armies are full of pleasant and pious folk But they have yielded to the only enemy that matters—the enemy within They have sinned against passion and truth and vain will be their strife after virtue As the years pass they are censured Their pleasantry and their piety show cracks their wit becomes cynicism their unselfishness hypocrisy they feel and produce discomfort wherever they go They have sinned against Eros and against Pallas Athene and not by any heavenly intervention but by the ordinary course of nature, those allied deities will be avenged
Lucy entered this army when she pretended to George that she did not love him and pretended to Cecil that she loved no one The night received her as it had received Miss Bartlett thirty years before
Chapter XVIII Lying to Mr Beebe Mrs Honeychurch Freddy and The Servants
Windy Corner lay not on the summit of the ridge but a few hundred feet down the southern slope at the springing of one of the great buttresses that supported the hill On either side of it was a shallow ravine filled with ferns and pinetrees and down the ravine on the left ran the highway into the Weald
Whenever Mr Beebe crossed the ridge and caught sight of these noble dispositions of the earth and poised in the middle of them Windy Corner—he laughed The situation was so glorious the house so commonplace not to say impertinent The late Mr Honeychurch had affected the cube because it gave him the most accommodation for his money and the only addition made by his widow had been a small turret shaped like a rhinoceros horn where she could sit in wet weather and watch the carts going up and down the road So impertinent—and yet the house did for it was the home of people who loved their surroundings honestly Other houses in the neighborhood had been built by expensive architects over others their inmates had fidgeted sedulously yet all these suggested the accidental the temporary while Windy Corner seemed as inevitable as an ugliness of Nature's own creation One might laugh at the house but one never shuddered Mr Beebe was bicycling over this Monday afternoon with a piece of gossip He had heard from the Miss Alans These admirable ladies since they could not go to Cissie Villa had changed their plans They were going to Greece instead
Since Florence did my poor sister so much good wrote Miss Catharine we do not see why we should not try Athens this winter Of course Athens is a plunge and the doctor has ordered her special digestive bread but after all we can take that with us and it is only getting first into a steamer and then into a train But is there an English Church And the letter went on to say I do not expect we shall go any further than Athens but if you knew of a really comfortable pension at Constantinople we should be so grateful
Lucy would enjoy this letter and the smile with which Mr Beebe greeted Windy Corner was partly for her She would see the fun of it and some of its beauty for she must see some beauty Though she was hopeless about pictures and though she dressed so unevenly—oh that cerise frock yesterday at church—she must see some beauty in life or she could not play the piano as she did He had a theory that musicians are incredibly complex and know far less than other artists what they want and what they are that they puzzle themselves as well as their friends that their psychology is a modern development and has not yet been understood This theory had he known it had possibly just been illustrated by facts Ignorant of the events of yesterday he was only riding over to get some tea to see his niece and to observe whether Miss Honeychurch saw anything beautiful in the desire of two old ladies to visit Athens
A carriage was drawn up outside Windy Corner and just as he caught sight of the house it started bowled up the drive and stopped abruptly when it reached the main road Therefore it must be the horse who always expected people to walk up the hill in case they tired him The door opened obediently and two men emerged whom Mr Beebe recognized as Cecil and Freddy They were an odd couple to go driving but he saw a trunk beside the coachmans legs Cecil who wore a bowler must be going away while Freddy a cap—was seeing him to the station They walked rapidly taking the short cuts and reached the summit while the carriage was still pursuing the windings of the road
They shook hands with the clergyman but did not speak
So youre off for a minute Mr Vyse he asked
Cecil said Yes while Freddy edged away
I was coming to show you this delightful letter from those friends of Miss Honeychurch He quoted from it Isnt it wonderful Isnt it romance most certainly they will go to Constantinople They are taken in a snare that cannot fail They will end by going round the world
Cecil listened civilly and said he was sure that Lucy would be amused and interested
Isnt Romance capricious I never notice it in you young people you do nothing but play lawn tennis and say that romance is dead while the Miss Alans are struggling with all the weapons of propriety against the terrible thing A really comfortable pension at Constantinople So they call it out of decency but in their hearts they want a pension with magic windows opening on the foam of perilous seas in fairyland forlorn No ordinary view will content the Miss Alans They want the Pension Keats
Im awfully sorry to interrupt Mr Beebe said Freddy but have you any matches
I have said Cecil and it did not escape Mr Beebes notice that he spoke to the boy more kindly
You have never met these Miss Alans have you Mr Vyse
Never
Then you dont see the wonder of this Greek visit I havent been to Greece myself and dont mean to go and I cant imagine any of my friends going It is altogether too big for our little lot Dont you think so Italy is just about as much as we can manage Italy is heroic but Greece is godlike or devilish—I am not sure which and in either case absolutely out of our suburban focus All right Freddy—I am not being clever upon my word I am not—I took the idea from another fellow and give me those matches when youve done with them He lit a cigarette and went on talking to the two young men I was saying if our poor little Cockney lives must have a background let it be Italian Big enough in all conscience The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel for me There the contrast is just as much as I can realize But not the Parthenon not the frieze of Phidias at any price and here comes the victoria
Youre quite right said Cecil Greece is not for our little lot and he got in Freddy followed nodding to the clergyman whom he trusted not to be pulling ones leg really And before they had gone a dozen yards he jumped out and came running back for Vyses matchbox which had not been returned As he took it he said Im so glad you only talked about books Cecils hard hit Lucy wont marry him If youd gone on about her as you did about them he might have broken down
But when—
Late last night I must go
Perhaps they wont want me down there
No—go on Goodbye
Thank goodness exclaimed Mr Beebe to himself and struck the saddle of his bicycle approvingly It was the one foolish thing she ever did Oh what a glorious riddance And after a little thought he negotiated the slope into Windy Corner light of heart The house was again as it ought to be—cut off forever from Cecils pretentious world
He would find Miss Minnie down in the garden
In the drawingroom Lucy was tinkling at a Mozart Sonata He hesitated a moment but went down the garden as requested There he found a mournful company It was a blustering day and the wind had taken and broken the dahlias Mrs Honeychurch who looked cross was tying them up while Miss Bartlett unsuitably dressed impeded her with offers of assistance At a little distance stood Minnie and the gardenchild a minute importation each holding either end of a long piece of bass
Oh how do you do Mr Beebe Gracious what a mess everything is Look at my scarlet pompons and the wind blowing your skirts about and the ground so hard that not a prop will stick in and then the carriage having to go out when I had counted on having Powell who—give every one their due—does tie up dahlias properly
Evidently Mrs Honeychurch was shattered
How do you do said Miss Bartlett with a meaning glance as though conveying that more than dahlias had been broken off by the autumn gales
Here Lennie the bass cried Mrs Honeychurch The gardenchild who did not know what bass was stood rooted to the path with horror Minnie slipped to her uncle and whispered that every one was very disagreeable today and that it was not her fault if dahliastrings would tear longways instead of across
Come for a walk with me he told her You have worried them as much as they can stand Mrs Honeychurch I only called in aimlessly I shall take her up to tea at the Beehive Tavern if I may
Oh must you Yes do—Not the scissors thank you Charlotte when both my hands are full already—Im perfectly certain that the orange cactus will go before I can get to it
Mr Beebe who was an adept at relieving situations invited Miss Bartlett to accompany them to this mild festivity
Yes Charlotte I dont want you—do go theres nothing to stop about for either in the house or out of it
Miss Bartlett said that her duty lay in the dahlia bed but when she had exasperated every one except Minnie by a refusal she turned round and exasperated Minnie by an acceptance As they walked up the garden the orange cactus fell and Mr Beebes last vision was of the gardenchild clasping it like a lover his dark head buried in a wealth of blossom
It is terrible this havoc among the flowers he remarked
It is always terrible when the promise of months is destroyed in a moment enunciated Miss Bartlett
Perhaps we ought to send Miss Honeychurch down to her mother Or will she come with us
I think we had better leave Lucy to herself and to her own pursuits
Theyre angry with Miss Honeychurch because she was late for breakfast whispered Minnie and Floyd has gone and Mr Vyse has gone and Freddy wont play with me In fact Uncle Arthur the house is not AT ALL what it was yesterday
Dont be a prig said her Uncle Arthur Go and put on your boots
He stepped into the drawingroom where Lucy was still attentively pursuing the Sonatas of Mozart She stopped when he entered
How do you do Miss Bartlett and Minnie are coming with me to tea at the Beehive Would you come too
I dont think I will thank you
No I didnt suppose you would care to much
Lucy turned to the piano and struck a few chords
How delicate those Sonatas are said Mr Beebe though at the bottom of his heart he thought them silly little things
Lucy passed into Schumann
Miss Honeychurch
Yes
I met them on the hill Your brother told me
Oh he did She sounded annoyed Mr Beebe felt hurt for he had thought that she would like him to be told
I neednt say that it will go no further
Mother Charlotte Cecil Freddy you said Lucy playing a note for each person who knew and then playing a sixth note
If youll let me say so I am very glad and I am certain that you have done the right thing
So I hoped other people would think but they dont seem to
I could see that Miss Bartlett thought it unwise
So does mother Mother minds dreadfully
I am very sorry for that said Mr Beebe with feeling
Mrs Honeychurch who hated all changes did mind but not nearly as much as her daughter pretended and only for the minute It was really a ruse of Lucys to justify her despondency—a ruse of which she was not herself conscious for she was marching in the armies of darkness
And Freddy minds
Still Freddy never hit it off with Vyse much did he I gathered that he disliked the engagement and felt it might separate him from you
Boys are so odd
Minnie could be heard arguing with Miss Bartlett through the floor Tea at the Beehive apparently involved a complete change of apparel Mr Beebe saw that Lucy—very properly—did not wish to discuss her action so after a sincere expression of sympathy he said I have had an absurd letter from Miss Alan That was really what brought me over I thought it might amuse you all
How delightful said Lucy in a dull voice
For the sake of something to do he began to read her the letter After a few words her eyes grew alert and soon she interrupted him with Going abroad When do they start
Next week I gather
Did Freddy say whether he was driving straight back
No he didnt
Because I do hope he wont go gossiping
So she did want to talk about her broken engagement Always complaisant he put the letter away But she at once exclaimed in a high voice Oh do tell me more about the Miss Alans How perfectly splendid of them to go abroad
I want them to start from Venice and go in a cargo steamer down the Illyrian coast
She laughed heartily Oh delightful I wish theyd take me
Has Italy filled you with the fever of travel Perhaps George Emerson is right He says that Italy is only an euphuism for Fate
Oh not Italy but Constantinople I have always longed to go to Constantinople Constantinople is practically Asia isnt it
Mr Beebe reminded her that Constantinople was still unlikely and that the Miss Alans only aimed at Athens with Delphi perhaps if the roads are safe But this made no difference to her enthusiasm She had always longed to go to Greece even more it seemed He saw to his surprise that she was apparently serious
I didnt realize that you and the Miss Alans were still such friends after Cissie Villa
Oh thats nothing I assure you Cissie Villas nothing to me I would give anything to go with them
Would your mother spare you again so soon You have scarcely been home three months
She MUST spare me cried Lucy in growing excitement I simply MUST go away I have to She ran her fingers hysterically through her hair Dont you see that I HAVE to go away I didnt realize at the time—and of course I want to see Constantinople so particularly
You mean that since you have broken off your engagement you feel—
Yes yes I knew youd understand
Mr Beebe did not quite understand Why could not Miss Honeychurch repose in the bosom of her family Cecil had evidently taken up the dignified line and was not going to annoy her Then it struck him that her family itself might be annoying He hinted this to her and she accepted the hint eagerly
Yes of course to go to Constantinople until they are used to the idea and everything has calmed down
I am afraid it has been a bothersome business he said gently
No not at all Cecil was very kind indeed only—I had better tell you the whole truth since you have heard a little—it was that he is so masterful I found that he wouldnt let me go my own way He would improve me in places where I cant be improved Cecil wont let a woman decide for herself—in fact he darent What nonsense I do talk but that is the kind of thing
It is what I gathered from my own observation of Mr Vyse it is what I gather from all that I have known of you I do sympathize and agree most profoundly I agree so much that you must let me make one little criticism Is it worth while rushing off to Greece
But I must go somewhere she cried I have been worrying all the morning and here comes the very thing She struck her knees with clenched fists and repeated I must And the time I shall have with mother and all the money she spent on me last spring You all think much too highly of me I wish you werent so kind At this moment Miss Bartlett entered and her nervousness increased I must get away ever so far I must know my own mind and where I want to go
Come along tea tea tea said Mr Beebe and bustled his guests out of the frontdoor He hustled them so quickly that he forgot his hat When he returned for it he heard to his relief and surprise the tinkling of a Mozart Sonata
She is playing again he said to Miss Bartlett
Lucy can always play was the acid reply
One is very thankful that she has such a resource She is evidently much worried as of course she ought to be I know all about it The marriage was so near that it must have been a hard struggle before she could wind herself up to speak
Miss Bartlett gave a kind of wriggle and he prepared for a discussion He had never fathomed Miss Bartlett As he had put it to himself at Florence she might yet reveal depths of strangeness if not of meaning But she was so unsympathetic that she must be reliable He assumed that much and he had no hesitation in discussing Lucy with her Minnie was fortunately collecting ferns
She opened the discussion with We had much better let the matter drop
I wonder
It is of the highest importance that there should be no gossip in Summer Street It would be DEATH to gossip about Mr Vyses dismissal at the present moment
Mr Beebe raised his eyebrows Death is a strong word—surely too strong There was no question of tragedy He said Of course Miss Honeychurch will make the fact public in her own way and when she chooses Freddy only told me because he knew she would not mind
I know said Miss Bartlett civilly Yet Freddy ought not to have told even you One cannot be too careful
Quite so
I do implore absolute secrecy A chance word to a chattering friend and—
Exactly He was used to these nervous old maids and to the exaggerated importance that they attach to words A rector lives in a web of petty secrets and confidences and warnings and the wiser he is the less he will regard them He will change the subject as did Mr Beebe saying cheerfully Have you heard from any Bertolini people lately I believe you keep up with Miss Lavish It is odd how we of that pension who seemed such a fortuitous collection have been working into one another's lives Two three four six of us—no eight I had forgotten the Emersons—have kept more or less in touch We must really give the Signora a testimonial
And Miss Bartlett not favouring the scheme they walked up the hill in a silence which was only broken by the rector naming some fern On the summit they paused The sky had grown wilder since he stood there last hour giving to the land a tragic greatness that is rare in Surrey Grey clouds were charging across tissues of white which stretched and shredded and tore slowly until through their final layers there gleamed a hint of the disappearing blue Summer was retreating The wind roared the trees groaned yet the noise seemed insufficient for those vast operations in heaven The weather was breaking up breaking broken and it is a sense of the fit rather than of the supernatural that equips such crises with the salvos of angelic artillery Mr Beebes eyes rested on Windy Corner where Lucy sat practising Mozart No smile came to his lips and changing the subject again he said We shant have rain but we shall have darkness so let us hurry on The darkness last night was appalling
They reached the Beehive Tavern at about five oclock That amiable hostelry possesses a verandah in which the young and the unwise do dearly love to sit while guests of more mature years seek a pleasant sanded room and have tea at a table comfortably Mr Beebe saw that Miss Bartlett would be cold if she sat out and that Minnie would be dull if she sat in so he proposed a division of forces They would hand the child her food through the window Thus he was incidentally enabled to discuss the fortunes of Lucy
I have been thinking Miss Bartlett he said and unless you very much object I would like to reopen that discussion She bowed Nothing about the past I know little and care less about that I am absolutely certain that it is to your cousins credit She has acted loftily and rightly and it is like her gentle modesty to say that we think too highly of her But the future Seriously what do you think of this Greek plan He pulled out the letter again I dont know whether you overheard but she wants to join the Miss Alans in their mad career Its all—I cant explain—its wrong
Miss Bartlett read the letter in silence laid it down seemed to hesitate and then read it again
I cant see the point of it myself
To his astonishment she replied There I cannot agree with you In it I spy Lucys salvation
Really Now why
She wanted to leave Windy Corner
I know—but it seems so odd so unlike her so—I was going to say—selfish
It is natural surely—after such painful scenes—that she should desire a change
Here apparently was one of those points that the male intellect misses Mr Beebe exclaimed So she says herself and since another lady agrees with her I must own that I am partially convinced Perhaps she must have a change I have no sisters or—and I dont understand these things But why need she go as far as Greece
You may well ask that replied Miss Bartlett who was evidently interested and had almost dropped her evasive manner Why Greece What is it Minnie dear—jam Why not Tunbridge Wells Oh Mr Beebe I had a long and most unsatisfactory interview with dear Lucy this morning I cannot help her I will say no more Perhaps I have already said too much I am not to talk I wanted her to spend six months with me at Tunbridge Wells and she refused
Mr Beebe poked at a crumb with his knife
But my feelings are of no importance I know too well that I get on Lucys nerves Our tour was a failure She wanted to leave Florence and when we got to Rome she did not want to be in Rome and all the time I felt that I was spending her mothers money—
Let us keep to the future though interrupted Mr Beebe I want your advice
Very well said Charlotte with a choky abruptness that was new to him though familiar to Lucy I for one will help her to go to Greece Will you
Mr Beebe considered
It is absolutely necessary she continued lowering her veil and whispering through it with a passion an intensity that surprised him I know—I know The darkness was coming on and he felt that this odd woman really did know She must not stop here a moment and we must keep quiet till she goes I trust that the servants know nothing Afterwards—but I may have said too much already Only Lucy and I are helpless against Mrs Honeychurch alone If you help we may succeed Otherwise—
Otherwise—
Otherwise she repeated as if the word held finality
Yes I will help her said the clergyman setting his jaw firm Come let us go back now and settle the whole thing up
Miss Bartlett burst into florid gratitude The tavern sign—a beehive trimmed evenly with bees—creaked in the wind outside as she thanked him Mr Beebe did not quite understand the situation but then he did not desire to understand it nor to jump to the conclusion of another man that would have attracted a grosser mind He only felt that Miss Bartlett knew of some vague influence from which the girl desired to be delivered and which might well be clothed in the fleshly form Its very vagueness spurred him into knighterrantry His belief in celibacy so reticent so carefully concealed beneath his tolerance and culture now came to the surface and expanded like some delicate flower They that marry do well but they that refrain do better So ran his belief and he never heard that an engagement was broken off but with a slight feeling of pleasure In the case of Lucy the feeling was intensified through dislike of Cecil and he was willing to go further—to place her out of danger until she could confirm her resolution of virginity The feeling was very subtle and quite undogmatic and he never imparted it to any other of the characters in this entanglement Yet it existed and it alone explains his action subsequently and his influence on the action of others The compact that he made with Miss Bartlett in the tavern was to help not only Lucy but religion also
They hurried home through a world of black and grey He conversed on indifferent topics the Emersons need of a housekeeper servants Italian servants novels about Italy novels with a purpose could literature influence life Windy Corner glimmered In the garden Mrs Honeychurch now helped by Freddy still wrestled with the lives of her flowers
It gets too dark she said hopelessly This comes of putting off We might have known the weather would break up soon and now Lucy wants to go to Greece I dont know what the worlds coming to
Mrs Honeychurch he said go to Greece she must Come up to the house and lets talk it over Do you in the first place mind her breaking with Vyse
Mr Beebe Im thankful—simply thankful
So am I said Freddy
Good Now come up to the house
They conferred in the diningroom for half an hour
Lucy would never have carried the Greek scheme alone It was expensive and dramatic—both qualities that her mother loathed Nor would Charlotte have succeeded The honours of the day rested with Mr Beebe By his tact and common sense and by his influence as a clergyman—for a clergyman who was not a fool influenced Mrs Honeychurch greatly—he bent her to their purpose I dont see why Greece is necessary she said but as you do I suppose it is all right It must be something I cant understand Lucy Lets tell her Lucy
She is playing the piano Mr Beebe said He opened the door and heard the words of a song
Look not thou on beautys charming
I didnt know that Miss Honeychurch sang too
Sit thou still when kings are arming
Taste not when the winecup glistens—
Its a song that Cecil gave her How odd girls are
Whats that called Lucy stopping short
All right dear said Mrs Honeychurch kindly She went into the drawingroom and Mr Beebe heard her kiss Lucy and say I am sorry I was so cross about Greece but it came on the top of the dahlias
Rather a hard voice said Thank you mother that doesnt matter a bit
And you are right too—Greece will be all right you can go if the Miss Alans will have you
Oh splendid Oh thank you
Mr Beebe followed Lucy still sat at the piano with her hands over the keys She was glad but he had expected greater gladness Her mother bent over her Freddy to whom she had been singing reclined on the floor with his head against her and an unlit pipe between his lips Oddly enough the group was beautiful Mr Beebe who loved the art of the past was reminded of a favourite theme the Santa Conversazione in which people who care for one another are painted chatting together about noble things—a theme neither sensual nor sensational and therefore ignored by the art of today Why should Lucy want either to marry or to travel when she had such friends at home
Taste not when the winecup glistens
Speak not when the people listens
she continued
Heres Mr Beebe
Mr Beebe knows my rude ways
Its a beautiful song and a wise one said he Go on
It isnt very good she said listlessly I forget why—harmony or something
I suspected it was unscholarly Its so beautiful
The tunes right enough said Freddy but the words are rotten Why throw up the sponge
How stupidly you talk said his sister The Santa Conversazione was broken up After all there was no reason that Lucy should talk about Greece or thank him for persuading her mother so he said goodbye
Freddy lit his bicycle lamp for him in the porch and with his usual felicity of phrase said This has been a day and a half
Stop thine ear against the singer—
Wait a minute she is finishing
From the red gold keep thy finger
Vacant heart and hand and eye
Easy live and quiet die
I love weather like this said Freddy
Mr Beebe passed into it
The two main facts were clear She had behaved splendidly and he had helped her He could not expect to master the details of so big a change in a girls life If here and there he was dissatisfied or puzzled he must acquiesce she was choosing the better part
Vacant heart and hand and eye—
Perhaps the song stated the better part rather too strongly He half fancied that the soaring accompaniment—which he did not lose in the shout of the gale—really agreed with Freddy and was gently criticizing the words that it adorned
Vacant heart and hand and eye
Easy live and quiet die
However for the fourth time Windy Corner lay poised below him—now as a beacon in the roaring tides of darkness
Chapter XIX Lying to Mr Emerson
The Miss Alans were found in their beloved temperance hotel near Bloomsbury—a clean airless establishment much patronized by provincial England They always perched there before crossing the great seas and for a week or two would fidget gently over clothes guidebooks mackintosh squares digestive bread and other Continental necessaries That there are shops abroad even in Athens never occurred to them for they regarded travel as a species of warfare only to be undertaken by those who have been fully armed at the Haymarket Stores Miss Honeychurch they trusted would take care to equip herself duly Quinine could now be obtained in tabloids paper soap was a great help towards freshening up ones face in the train Lucy promised a little depressed
But of course you know all about these things and you have Mr Vyse to help you A gentleman is such a standby
Mrs Honeychurch who had come up to town with her daughter began to drum nervously upon her cardcase
We think it so good of Mr Vyse to spare you Miss Catharine continued It is not every young man who would be so unselfish But perhaps he will come out and join you later on
Or does his work keep him in London said Miss Teresa the more acute and less kindly of the two sisters
However we shall see him when he sees you off I do so long to see him
No one will see Lucy off interposed Mrs Honeychurch She doesnt like it
No I hate seeingsoff said Lucy
Really How funny I should have thought that in this case—
Oh Mrs Honeychurch you arent going It is such a pleasure to have met you
They escaped and Lucy said with relief Thats all right We just got through that time
But her mother was annoyed I should be told dear that I am unsympathetic But I cannot see why you didnt tell your friends about Cecil and be done with it There all the time we had to sit fencing and almost telling lies and be seen through too I dare say which is most unpleasant
Lucy had plenty to say in reply She described the Miss Alans character they were such gossips and if one told them the news would be everywhere in no time
But why shouldnt it be everywhere in no time
Because I settled with Cecil not to announce it until I left England I shall tell them then Its much pleasanter How wet it is Lets turn in here
Here was the British Museum Mrs Honeychurch refused If they must take shelter let it be in a shop Lucy felt contemptuous for she was on the tack of caring for Greek sculpture and had already borrowed a mythical dictionary from Mr Beebe to get up the names of the goddesses and gods
Oh well let it be shop then Lets go to Mudies Ill buy a guidebook
You know Lucy you and Charlotte and Mr Beebe all tell me Im so stupid so I suppose I am but I shall never understand this holeandcorner work Youve got rid of Cecil—well and good and Im thankful hes gone though I did feel angry for the minute But why not announce it Why this hushing up and tiptoeing
Its only for a few days
But why at all
Lucy was silent She was drifting away from her mother It was quite easy to say Because George Emerson has been bothering me and if he hears Ive given up Cecil may begin again—quite easy and it had the incidental advantage of being true But she could not say it She disliked confidences for they might lead to selfknowledge and to that king of terrors—Light Ever since that last evening at Florence she had deemed it unwise to reveal her soul
Mrs Honeychurch too was silent She was thinking My daughter wont answer me she would rather be with those inquisitive old maids than with Freddy and me Any rag tag and bobtail apparently does if she can leave her home And as in her case thoughts never remained unspoken long she burst out with Youre tired of Windy Corner
This was perfectly true Lucy had hoped to return to Windy Corner when she escaped from Cecil but she discovered that her home existed no longer It might exist for Freddy who still lived and thought straight but not for one who had deliberately warped the brain She did not acknowledge that her brain was warped for the brain itself must assist in that acknowledgment and she was disordering the very instruments of life She only felt I do not love George I broke off my engagement because I did not love George I must go to Greece because I do not love George it is more important that I should look up gods in the dictionary than that I should help my mother every one else is behaving very badly She only felt irritable and petulant and anxious to do what she was not expected to do and in this spirit she proceeded with the conversation
Oh mother what rubbish you talk Of course Im not tired of Windy Corner
Then why not say so at once instead of considering half an hour
She laughed faintly Half a minute would be nearer
Perhaps you would like to stay away from your home altogether
Hush mother People will hear you for they had entered Mudies She bought Baedeker and then continued Of course I want to live at home but as we are talking about it I may as well say that I shall want to be away in the future more than I have been You see I come into my money next year
Tears came into her mothers eyes
Driven by nameless bewilderment by what is in older people termed eccentricity Lucy determined to make this point clear Ive seen the world so little—I felt so out of things in Italy I have seen so little of life one ought to come up to London more—not a cheap ticket like today but to stop I might even share a flat for a little with some other girl
And mess with typewriters and latchkeys exploded Mrs Honeychurch And agitate and scream and be carried off kicking by the police And call it a Mission—when no one wants you And call it Duty—when it means that you cant stand your own home And call it Work—when thousands of men are starving with the competition as it is And then to prepare yourself find two doddering old ladies and go abroad with them
I want more independence said Lucy lamely she knew that she wanted something and independence is a useful cry we can always say that we have not got it She tried to remember her emotions in Florence those had been sincere and passionate and had suggested beauty rather than short skirts and latchkeys But independence was certainly her cue
Very well Take your independence and be gone Rush up and down and round the world and come back as thin as a lath with the bad food Despise the house that your father built and the garden that he planted and our dear view—and then share a flat with another girl
Lucy screwed up her mouth and said Perhaps I spoke hastily
Oh goodness her mother flashed How you do remind me of Charlotte Bartlett
Charlotte flashed Lucy in her turn pierced at last by a vivid pain
More every moment
I dont know what you mean mother Charlotte and I are not the very least alike
Well I see the likeness The same eternal worrying the same taking back of words You and Charlotte trying to divide two apples among three people last night might be sisters
What rubbish And if you dislike Charlotte so its rather a pity you asked her to stop I warned you about her I begged you implored you not to but of course it was not listened to
There you go
I beg your pardon
Charlotte again my dear thats all her very words
Lucy clenched her teeth My point is that you oughtnt to have asked Charlotte to stop I wish you would keep to the point And the conversation died off into a wrangle
She and her mother shopped in silence spoke little in the train little again in the carriage which met them at Dorking Station It had poured all day and as they ascended through the deep Surrey lanes showers of water fell from the overhanging beechtrees and rattled on the hood Lucy complained that the hood was stuffy Leaning forward she looked out into the steaming dusk and watched the carriagelamp pass like a searchlight over mud and leaves and reveal nothing beautiful The crush when Charlotte gets in will be abominable she remarked For they were to pick up Miss Bartlett at Summer Street where she had been dropped as the carriage went down to pay a call on Mr Beebes old mother We shall have to sit three a side because the trees drop and yet it isnt raining Oh for a little air Then she listened to the horses hoofs—He has not told—he has not told That melody was blurred by the soft road CANT we have the hood down she demanded and her mother with sudden tenderness said Very well old lady stop the horse And the horse was stopped and Lucy and Powell wrestled with the hood and squirted water down Mrs Honeychurchs neck But now that the hood was down she did see something that she would have missed—there were no lights in the windows of Cissie Villa and round the garden gate she fancied she saw a padlock
Is that house to let again Powell she called
Yes miss he replied
Have they gone
It is too far out of town for the young gentleman and his fathers rheumatism has come on so he cant stop on alone so they are trying to let furnished was the answer
They have gone then
Yes miss they have gone
Lucy sank back The carriage stopped at the Rectory She got out to call for Miss Bartlett So the Emersons had gone and all this bother about Greece had been unnecessary Waste That word seemed to sum up the whole of life Wasted plans wasted money wasted love and she had wounded her mother Was it possible that she had muddled things away Quite possible Other people had When the maid opened the door she was unable to speak and stared stupidly into the hall
Miss Bartlett at once came forward and after a long preamble asked a great favour might she go to church Mr Beebe and his mother had already gone but she had refused to start until she obtained her hostesss full sanction for it would mean keeping the horse waiting a good ten minutes more
Certainly said the hostess wearily I forgot it was Friday Lets all go Powell can go round to the stables
Lucy dearest—
No church for me thank you
A sigh and they departed The church was invisible but up in the darkness to the left there was a hint of colour This was a stained window through which some feeble light was shining and when the door opened Lucy heard Mr Beebes voice running through the litany to a minute congregation Even their church built upon the slope of the hill so artfully with its beautiful raised transept and its spire of silvery shingle—even their church had lost its charm and the thing one never talked about—religion—was fading like all the other things
She followed the maid into the Rectory
Would she object to sitting in Mr Beebes study There was only that one fire
She would not object
Some one was there already for Lucy heard the words A lady to wait sir
Old Mr Emerson was sitting by the fire with his foot upon a goutstool
Oh Miss Honeychurch that you should come he quavered and Lucy saw an alteration in him since last Sunday
Not a word would come to her lips George she had faced and could have faced again but she had forgotten how to treat his father
Miss Honeychurch dear we are so sorry George is so sorry He thought he had a right to try I cannot blame my boy and yet I wish he had told me first He ought not to have tried I knew nothing about it at all
If only she could remember how to behave
He held up his hand But you must not scold him
Lucy turned her back and began to look at Mr Beebes books
I taught him he quavered to trust in love I said When love comes that is reality I said Passion does not blind No Passion is sanity and the woman you love she is the only person you will ever really understand He sighed True everlastingly true though my day is over and though there is the result Poor boy He is so sorry He said he knew it was madness when you brought your cousin in that whatever you felt you did not mean Yet—his voice gathered strength he spoke out to make certain—Miss Honeychurch do you remember Italy
Lucy selected a book—a volume of Old Testament commentaries Holding it up to her eyes she said I have no wish to discuss Italy or any subject connected with your son
But you do remember it
He has misbehaved himself from the first
I only was told that he loved you last Sunday I never could judge behaviour I—I—suppose he has
Feeling a little steadier she put the book back and turned round to him His face was drooping and swollen but his eyes though they were sunken deep gleamed with a childs courage
Why he has behaved abominably she said I am glad he is sorry Do you know what he did
Not abominably was the gentle correction He only tried when he should not have tried You have all you want Miss Honeychurch you are going to marry the man you love Do not go out of Georges life saying he is abominable
No of course said Lucy ashamed at the reference to Cecil Abominable is much too strong I am sorry I used it about your son I think I will go to church after all My mother and my cousin have gone I shall not be so very late—
Especially as he has gone under he said quietly
What was that
Gone under naturally He beat his palms together in silence his head fell on his chest
I dont understand
As his mother did
But Mr Emerson—MR EMERSON—what are you talking about
When I wouldnt have George baptized said he
Lucy was frightened
And she agreed that baptism was nothing but he caught that fever when he was twelve and she turned round She thought it a judgment He shuddered Oh horrible when we had given up that sort of thing and broken away from her parents Oh horrible—worst of all—worse than death when you have made a little clearing in the wilderness planted your little garden let in your sunlight and then the weeds creep in again A judgment And our boy had typhoid because no clergyman had dropped water on him in church Is it possible Miss Honeychurch Shall we slip back into the darkness for ever
I dont know gasped Lucy I dont understand this sort of thing I was not meant to understand it
But Mr Eager—he came when I was out and acted according to his principles I dont blame him or any one but by the time George was well she was ill He made her think about sin and she went under thinking about it
It was thus that Mr Emerson had murdered his wife in the sight of God
Oh how terrible said Lucy forgetting her own affairs at last
He was not baptized said the old man I did hold firm And he looked with unwavering eyes at the rows of books as if—at what cost—he had won a victory over them My boy shall go back to the earth untouched
She asked whether young Mr Emerson was ill
Oh—last Sunday He started into the present George last Sunday—no not ill just gone under He is never ill But he is his mothers son Her eyes were his and she had that forehead that I think so beautiful and he will not think it worth while to live It was always touch and go He will live but he will not think it worth while to live He will never think anything worth while You remember that church at Florence
Lucy did remember and how she had suggested that George should collect postage stamps
After you left Florence—horrible Then we took the house here and he goes bathing with your brother and became better You saw him bathing
I am so sorry but it is no good discussing this affair I am deeply sorry about it
Then there came something about a novel I didnt follow it at all I had to hear so much and he minded telling me he finds me too old Ah well one must have failures George comes down tomorrow and takes me up to his London rooms He cant bear to be about here and I must be where he is
Mr Emerson cried the girl dont leave at least not on my account I am going to Greece Dont leave your comfortable house
It was the first time her voice had been kind and he smiled How good every one is And look at Mr Beebe housing me—came over this morning and heard I was going Here I am so comfortable with a fire
Yes but you wont go back to London Its absurd
I must be with George I must make him care to live and down here he cant He says the thought of seeing you and of hearing about you—I am not justifying him I am only saying what has happened
Oh Mr Emerson—she took hold of his hand—you mustnt Ive been bother enough to the world by now I cant have you moving out of your house when you like it and perhaps losing money through it—all on my account You must stop I am just going to Greece
All the way to Greece
Her manner altered
To Greece
So you must stop You wont talk about this business I know I can trust you both
Certainly you can We either have you in our lives or leave you to the life that you have chosen
I shouldnt want—
I suppose Mr Vyse is very angry with George No it was wrong of George to try We have pushed our beliefs too far I fancy that we deserve sorrow
She looked at the books again—black brown and that acrid theological blue They surrounded the visitors on every side they were piled on the tables they pressed against the very ceiling To Lucy who could not see that Mr Emerson was profoundly religious and differed from Mr Beebe chiefly by his acknowledgment of passion—it seemed dreadful that the old man should crawl into such a sanctum when he was unhappy and be dependent on the bounty of a clergyman
More certain than ever that she was tired he offered her his chair
No please sit still I think I will sit in the carriage
Miss Honeychurch you do sound tired
Not a bit said Lucy with trembling lips
But you are and theres a look of George about you And what were you saying about going abroad
She was silent
Greece—and she saw that he was thinking the word over—Greece but you were to be married this year I thought
Not till January it wasnt said Lucy clasping her hands Would she tell an actual lie when it came to the point
I suppose that Mr Vyse is going with you I hope—it isnt because George spoke that you are both going
No
I hope that you will enjoy Greece with Mr Vyse
Thank you
At that moment Mr Beebe came back from church His cassock was covered with rain Thats all right he said kindly I counted on you two keeping each other company Its pouring again The entire congregation which consists of your cousin your mother and my mother stands waiting in the church till the carriage fetches it Did Powell go round
I think so Ill see
No—of course Ill see How are the Miss Alans
Very well thank you
Did you tell Mr Emerson about Greece
I—I did
Dont you think it very plucky of her Mr Emerson to undertake the two Miss Alans Now Miss Honeychurch go back—keep warm I think three is such a courageous number to go travelling And he hurried off to the stables
He is not going she said hoarsely I made a slip Mr Vyse does stop behind in England
Somehow it was impossible to cheat this old man To George to Cecil she would have lied again but he seemed so near the end of things so dignified in his approach to the gulf of which he gave one account and the books that surrounded him another so mild to the rough paths that he had traversed that the true chivalry—not the wornout chivalry of sex but the true chivalry that all the young may show to all the old—awoke in her and at whatever risk she told him that Cecil was not her companion to Greece And she spoke so seriously that the risk became a certainty and he lifting his eyes said You are leaving him You are leaving the man you love
I—I had to
Why Miss Honeychurch why
Terror came over her and she lied again She made the long convincing speech that she had made to Mr Beebe and intended to make to the world when she announced that her engagement was no more He heard her in silence and then said My dear I am worried about you It seems to me—dreamily she was not alarmed—that you are in a muddle
She shook her head
Take an old mans word theres nothing worse than a muddle in all the world It is easy to face Death and Fate and the things that sound so dreadful It is on my muddles that I look back with horror—on the things that I might have avoided We can help one another but little I used to think I could teach young people the whole of life but I know better now and all my teaching of George has come down to this beware of muddle Do you remember in that church when you pretended to be annoyed with me and werent Do you remember before when you refused the room with the view Those were muddles—little but ominous—and I am fearing that you are in one now She was silent Dont trust me Miss Honeychurch Though life is very glorious it is difficult She was still silent Life wrote a friend of mine is a public performance on the violin in which you must learn the instrument as you go along I think he puts it well Man has to pick up the use of his functions as he goes along—especially the function of Love Then he burst out excitedly Thats it thats what I mean You love George And after his long preamble the three words burst against Lucy like waves from the open sea
But you do he went on not waiting for contradiction You love the boy body and soul plainly directly as he loves you and no other word expresses it You wont marry the other man for his sake
How dare you gasped Lucy with the roaring of waters in her ears Oh how like a man—I mean to suppose that a woman is always thinking about a man
But you are
She summoned physical disgust
Youre shocked but I mean to shock you Its the only hope at times I can reach you no other way You must marry or your life will be wasted You have gone too far to retreat I have no time for the tenderness and the comradeship and the poetry and the things that really matter and for which you marry I know that with George you will find them and that you love him Then be his wife He is already part of you Though you fly to Greece and never see him again or forget his very name George will work in your thoughts till you die It isnt possible to love and to part You will wish that it was You can transmute love ignore it muddle it but you can never pull it out of you I know by experience that the poets are right love is eternal
Lucy began to cry with anger and though her anger passed away soon her tears remained
I only wish poets would say this too love is of the body not the body but of the body Ah the misery that would be saved if we confessed that Ah for a little directness to liberate the soul Your soul dear Lucy I hate the word now because of all the cant with which superstition has wrapped it round But we have souls I cannot say how they came nor whither they go but we have them and I see you ruining yours I cannot bear it It is again the darkness creeping in it is hell Then he checked himself What nonsense I have talked—how abstract and remote And I have made you cry Dear girl forgive my prosiness marry my boy When I think what life is and how seldom love is answered by love—Marry him it is one of the moments for which the world was made
She could not understand him the words were indeed remote Yet as he spoke the darkness was withdrawn veil after veil and she saw to the bottom of her soul
Then Lucy—
Youve frightened me she moaned Cecil—Mr Beebe—the tickets bought—everything She fell sobbing into the chair Im caught in the tangle I must suffer and grow old away from him I cannot break the whole of life for his sake They trusted me
A carriage drew up at the frontdoor
Give George my love—once only Tell him muddle Then she arranged her veil while the tears poured over her cheeks inside
Lucy—
No—they are in the hall—oh please not Mr Emerson—they trust me—
But why should they when you have deceived them
Mr Beebe opened the door saying Heres my mother
Youre not worthy of their trust
Whats that said Mr Beebe sharply
I was saying why should you trust her when she deceived you
One minute mother He came in and shut the door
I dont follow you Mr Emerson To whom do you refer Trust whom
I mean she has pretended to you that she did not love George They have loved one another all along
Mr Beebe looked at the sobbing girl He was very quiet and his white face with its ruddy whiskers seemed suddenly inhuman A long black column he stood and awaited her reply
I shall never marry him quavered Lucy
A look of contempt came over him and he said Why not
Mr Beebe—I have misled you—I have misled myself—
Oh rubbish Miss Honeychurch
It is not rubbish said the old man hotly Its the part of people that you dont understand
Mr Beebe laid his hand on the old mans shoulder pleasantly
Lucy Lucy called voices from the carriage
Mr Beebe could you help me
He looked amazed at the request and said in a low stern voice I am more grieved than I can possibly express It is lamentable lamentable—incredible
Whats wrong with the boy fired up the other again
Nothing Mr Emerson except that he no longer interests me Marry George Miss Honeychurch He will do admirably
He walked out and left them They heard him guiding his mother upstairs
Lucy the voices called
She turned to Mr Emerson in despair But his face revived her It was the face of a saint who understood
Now it is all dark Now Beauty and Passion seem never to have existed I know But remember the mountains over Florence and the view Ah dear if I were George and gave you one kiss it would make you brave You have to go cold into a battle that needs warmth out into the muddle that you have made yourself and your mother and all your friends will despise you oh my darling and rightly if it is ever right to despise George still dark all the tussle and the misery without a word from him Am I justified Into his own eyes tears came Yes for we fight for more than Love or Pleasure there is Truth Truth counts Truth does count
You kiss me said the girl You kiss me I will try
He gave her a sense of deities reconciled a feeling that in gaining the man she loved she would gain something for the whole world Throughout the squalor of her homeward drive—she spoke at once—his salutation remained He had robbed the body of its taint the worlds taunts of their sting he had shown her the holiness of direct desire She never exactly understood she would say in after years how he managed to strengthen her It was as if he had made her see the whole of everything at once
Chapter XX The End of the Middle Ages
The Miss Alans did go to Greece but they went by themselves They alone of this little company will double Malea and plough the waters of the Saronic gulf They alone will visit Athens and Delphi and either shrine of intellectual song—that upon the Acropolis encircled by blue seas that under Parnassus where the eagles build and the bronze charioteer drives undismayed towards infinity Trembling anxious cumbered with much digestive bread they did proceed to Constantinople they did go round the world The rest of us must be contented with a fair but a less arduous goal Italiam petimus we return to the Pension Bertolini
George said it was his old room
No it isnt said Lucy because it is the room I had and I had your fathers room I forget why Charlotte made me for some reason
He knelt on the tiled floor and laid his face in her lap
George you baby get up
Why shouldnt I be a baby murmured George
Unable to answer this question she put down his sock which she was trying to mend and gazed out through the window It was evening and again the spring
Oh bother Charlotte she said thoughtfully What can such people be made of
Same stuff as parsons are made of
Nonsense
Quite right It is nonsense
Now you get up off the cold floor or youll be starting rheumatism next and you stop laughing and being so silly
Why shouldnt I laugh he asked pinning her with his elbows and advancing his face to hers Whats there to cry at Kiss me here He indicated the spot where a kiss would be welcome
He was a boy after all When it came to the point it was she who remembered the past she into whose soul the iron had entered she who knew whose room this had been last year It endeared him to her strangely that he should be sometimes wrong
Any letters he asked
Just a line from Freddy
Now kiss me here then here
Then threatened again with rheumatism he strolled to the window opened it as the English will and leant out There was the parapet there the river there to the left the beginnings of the hills The cabdriver who at once saluted him with the hiss of a serpent might be that very Phaethon who had set this happiness in motion twelve months ago A passion of gratitude—all feelings grow to passions in the South—came over the husband and he blessed the people and the things who had taken so much trouble about a young fool He had helped himself it is true but how stupidly
All the fighting that mattered had been done by others—by Italy by his father by his wife
Lucy you come and look at the cypresses and the church whatever its name is still shows
San Miniato Ill just finish your sock
Signorino domani faremo uno giro called the cabman with engaging certainty
George told him that he was mistaken they had no money to throw away on driving
And the people who had not meant to help—the Miss Lavishes the Cecils the Miss Bartletts Ever prone to magnify Fate George counted up the forces that had swept him into this contentment
Anything good in Freddys letter
Not yet
His own content was absolute but hers held bitterness the Honeychurches had not forgiven them they were disgusted at her past hypocrisy she had alienated Windy Corner perhaps for ever
What does he say
Silly boy He thinks hes being dignified He knew we should go off in the spring—he has known it for six months—that if mother wouldnt give her consent we should take the thing into our own hands They had fair warning and now he calls it an elopement Ridiculous boy—
Signorino domani faremo uno giro—
But it will all come right in the end He has to build us both up from the beginning again I wish though that Cecil had not turned so cynical about women He has for the second time quite altered Why will men have theories about women I havent any about men I wish too that Mr Beebe—
You may well wish that
He will never forgive us—I mean he will never be interested in us again I wish that he did not influence them so much at Windy Corner I wish he hadnt—But if we act the truth the people who really love us are sure to come back to us in the long run
Perhaps Then he said more gently Well I acted the truth—the only thing I did do—and you came back to me So possibly you know He turned back into the room Nonsense with that sock He carried her to the window so that she too saw all the view They sank upon their knees invisible from the road they hoped and began to whisper one another's names Ah it was worth while it was the great joy that they had expected and countless little joys of which they had never dreamt They were silent
Signorino domani faremo—
Oh bother that man
But Lucy remembered the vendor of photographs and said No dont be rude to him Then with a catching of her breath she murmured Mr Eager and Charlotte dreadful frozen Charlotte How cruel she would be to a man like that
Look at the lights going over the bridge
But this room reminds me of Charlotte How horrible to grow old in Charlottes way To think that evening at the rectory that she shouldnt have heard your father was in the house For she would have stopped me going in and he was the only person alive who could have made me see sense You couldnt have made me When I am very happy—she kissed him—I remember on how little it all hangs If Charlotte had only known she would have stopped me going in and I should have gone to silly Greece and become different for ever
But she did know said George she did see my father surely He said so
Oh no she didnt see him She was upstairs with old Mrs Beebe dont you remember and then went straight to the church She said so
George was obstinate again My father said he saw her and I prefer his word He was dozing by the study fire and he opened his eyes and there was Miss Bartlett A few minutes before you came in She was turning to go as he woke up He didnt speak to her
Then they spoke of other things—the desultory talk of those who have been fighting to reach one another, and whose reward is to rest quietly in each others arms It was long ere they returned to Miss Bartlett but when they did her behaviour seemed more interesting George who disliked any darkness said Its clear that she knew Then why did she risk the meeting She knew he was there and yet she went to church
They tried to piece the thing together
As they talked an incredible solution came into Lucys mind She rejected it and said How like Charlotte to undo her work by a feeble muddle at the last moment But something in the dying evening in the roar of the river in their very embrace warned them that her words fell short of life and George whispered Or did she mean it
Mean what
Signorino domani faremo uno giro—
Lucy bent forward and said with gentleness Lascia prego lascia Siamo sposati
Scusi tanto signora he replied in tones as gentle and whipped up his horse
Buona sera—e grazie
Niente
The cabman drove away singing
Mean what George
He whispered Is it this Is this possible Ill put a marvel to you That your cousin has always hoped That from the very first moment we met she hoped far down in her mind that we should be like this—of course very far down That she fought us on the surface and yet she hoped I cant explain her any other way Can you Look how she kept me alive in you all the summer how she gave you no peace how month after month she became more eccentric and unreliable The sight of us haunted her—or she couldnt have described us as she did to her friend There are details—it burnt I read the book afterwards She is not frozen Lucy she is not withered up all through She tore us apart twice but in the rectory that evening she was given one more chance to make us happy We can never make friends with her or thank her But I do believe that far down in her heart far below all speech and behaviour she is glad
It is impossible murmured Lucy and then remembering the experiences of her own heart she said No—it is just possible
Youth enwrapped them the song of Phaethon announced passion requited love attained But they were conscious of a love more mysterious than this The song died away they heard the river bearing down the snows of winter into the Mediterranean