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diff --git a/old/rhuds10.txt b/old/rhuds10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6dcab58 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rhuds10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15008 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Roderick Hudson, by Henry James + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois + Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each + date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare) + your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, +scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty +free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution +you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg +Association / Illinois Benedictine College". + +This "Small Print!" by Charles B. Kramer, Attorney +Internet (72600.2026@compuserve.com); TEL: (212-254-5093) +*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + + +RODERICK HUDSON + +by + +HENRY JAMES + + +CONTENTS + I. Rowland + II. Roderick + III. Rome + IV. Experience + V. Christina + VI. Frascati + VII. St. Cecilia's + VIII. Provocation + IX. Mary Garland + X. The Cavaliere + XI. Mrs. Hudson + XII. The Princess Casamassima + XIII. Switzerland + + +CHAPTER I. Rowland + +Mallet had made his arrangements to sail for Europe on the first +of September, and having in the interval a fortnight to spare, +he determined to spend it with his cousin Cecilia, the widow +of a nephew of his father. He was urged by the reflection +that an affectionate farewell might help to exonerate him +from the charge of neglect frequently preferred by this lady. +It was not that the young man disliked her; on the contrary, +he regarded her with a tender admiration, and he had not +forgotten how, when his cousin had brought her home on her marriage, +he had seemed to feel the upward sweep of the empty bough from +which the golden fruit had been plucked, and had then and there +accepted the prospect of bachelorhood. The truth was, that, as it +will be part of the entertainment of this narrative to exhibit, +Rowland Mallet had an uncomfortably sensitive conscience, and that, +in spite of the seeming paradox, his visits to Cecilia were rare +because she and her misfortunes were often uppermost in it. +Her misfortunes were three in number: first, she had lost +her husband; second, she had lost her money (or the greater part +of it); and third, she lived at Northampton, Massachusetts. +Mallet's compassion was really wasted, because Cecilia was a very +clever woman, and a most skillful counter-plotter to adversity. +She had made herself a charming home, her economies were not obtrusive, +and there was always a cheerful flutter in the folds of her crape. +It was the consciousness of all this that puzzled Mallet whenever +he felt tempted to put in his oar. He had money and he had time, +but he never could decide just how to place these gifts gracefully +at Cecilia's service. He no longer felt like marrying her: +in these eight years that fancy had died a natural death. +And yet her extreme cleverness seemed somehow to make charity +difficult and patronage impossible. He would rather chop off +his hand than offer her a check, a piece of useful furniture, +or a black silk dress; and yet there was some sadness in seeing +such a bright, proud woman living in such a small, dull way. +Cecilia had, moreover, a turn for sarcasm, and her smile, which was +her pretty feature, was never so pretty as when her sprightly +phrase had a lurking scratch in it. Rowland remembered that, +for him, she was all smiles, and suspected, awkwardly, that he +ministered not a little to her sense of the irony of things. +And in truth, with his means, his leisure, and his opportunities, +what had he done? He had an unaffected suspicion of his uselessness. +Cecilia, meanwhile, cut out her own dresses, and was personally +giving her little girl the education of a princess. + +This time, however, he presented himself bravely enough; +for in the way of activity it was something definite, at least, +to be going to Europe and to be meaning to spend the winter in Rome. +Cecilia met him in the early dusk at the gate of her little garden, +amid a studied combination of floral perfumes. A rosy widow +of twenty-eight, half cousin, half hostess, doing the honors +of an odorous cottage on a midsummer evening, was a phenomenon +to which the young man's imagination was able to do ample justice. +Cecilia was always gracious, but this evening she was almost joyous. +She was in a happy mood, and Mallet imagined there was a private +reason for it--a reason quite distinct from her pleasure in receiving +her honored kinsman. The next day he flattered himself he was on +the way to discover it. + +For the present, after tea, as they sat on the rose-framed porch, +while Rowland held his younger cousin between his knees, and she, +enjoying her situation, listened timorously for the stroke of bedtime, +Cecilia insisted on talking more about her visitor than about herself. + +"What is it you mean to do in Europe?" she asked, lightly, giving a turn +to the frill of her sleeve--just such a turn as seemed to Mallet to bring +out all the latent difficulties of the question. + +"Why, very much what I do here," he answered. "No great harm." + +"Is it true," Cecilia asked, "that here you do no great harm? +Is not a man like you doing harm when he is not doing positive good?" + +"Your compliment is ambiguous," said Rowland. + +"No," answered the widow, "you know what I think of you. +You have a particular aptitude for beneficence. You have it in +the first place in your character. You are a benevolent person. +Ask Bessie if you don't hold her more gently and comfortably +than any of her other admirers." + +"He holds me more comfortably than Mr. Hudson," Bessie declared, roundly. + +Rowland, not knowing Mr. Hudson, could but half appreciate the eulogy, +and Cecilia went on to develop her idea. "Your circumstances, +in the second place, suggest the idea of social usefulness. +You are intelligent, you are well-informed, and your charity, +if one may call it charity, would be discriminating. +You are rich and unoccupied, so that it might be abundant. +Therefore, I say, you are a person to do something on a large scale. +Bestir yourself, dear Rowland, or we may be taught to think +that virtue herself is setting a bad example." + +"Heaven forbid," cried Rowland, "that I should set the examples +of virtue! I am quite willing to follow them, however, and if I +don't do something on the grand scale, it is that my genius is +altogether imitative, and that I have not recently encountered +any very striking models of grandeur. Pray, what shall I do? +Found an orphan asylum, or build a dormitory for Harvard College? +I am not rich enough to do either in an ideally handsome way, +and I confess that, yet awhile, I feel too young to strike +my grand coup. I am holding myself ready for inspiration. +I am waiting till something takes my fancy irresistibly. +If inspiration comes at forty, it will be a hundred pities +to have tied up my money-bag at thirty." + +"Well, I give you till forty," said Cecilia. "It 's only a word to the wise, +a notification that you are expected not to run your course without having +done something handsome for your fellow-men." + +Nine o'clock sounded, and Bessie, with each stroke, courted a +closer embrace. But a single winged word from her mother +overleaped her successive intrenchments. She turned and kissed +her cousin, and deposited an irrepressible tear on his moustache. +Then she went and said her prayers to her mother: it was evident +she was being admirably brought up. Rowland, with the permission +of his hostess, lighted a cigar and puffed it awhile in silence. +Cecilia's interest in his career seemed very agreeable. +That Mallet was without vanity I by no means intend to affirm; +but there had been times when, seeing him accept, hardly less +deferentially, advice even more peremptory than the widow's, +you might have asked yourself what had become of his vanity. +Now, in the sweet-smelling starlight, he felt gently wooed to egotism. +There was a project connected with his going abroad which it was on +his tongue's end to communicate. It had no relation to hospitals +or dormitories, and yet it would have sounded very generous. +But it was not because it would have sounded generous that poor +Mallet at last puffed it away in the fumes of his cigar. +Useful though it might be, it expressed most imperfectly the young +man's own personal conception of usefulness. He was extremely +fond of all the arts, and he had an almost passionate enjoyment +of pictures. He had seen many, and he judged them sagaciously. +It had occurred to him some time before that it would be +the work of a good citizen to go abroad and with all expedition +and secrecy purchase certain valuable specimens of the Dutch +and Italian schools as to which he had received private proposals, +and then present his treasures out of hand to an American city, +not unknown to ; aesthetic fame, in which at that time there +prevailed a good deal of fruitless aspiration toward an art-museum. +He had seen himself in imagination, more than once, in some mouldy +old saloon of a Florentine palace, turning toward the deep embrasure +of the window some scarcely-faded Ghirlandaio or Botticelli, +while a host in reduced circumstances pointed out the lovely drawing +of a hand. But he imparted none of these visions to Cecilia, +and he suddenly swept them away with the declaration that he was +of course an idle, useless creature, and that he would probably +be even more so in Europe than at home. "The only thing is," +he said, "that there I shall seem to be doing something. +I shall be better entertained, and shall be therefore, +I suppose, in a better humor with life. You may say that +that is just the humor a useless man should keep out of. +He should cultivate discontentment. I did a good many things +when I was in Europe before, but I did not spend a winter in Rome. +Every one assures me that this is a peculiar refinement +of bliss; most people talk about Rome in the same way. +It is evidently only a sort of idealized form of loafing: +a passive life in Rome, thanks to the number and the quality +of one's impressions, takes on a very respectable likeness +to activity. It is still lotus-eating, only you sit down +at table, and the lotuses are served up on rococo china. +It 's all very well, but I have a distinct prevision of this-- +that if Roman life does n't do something substantial to make +you happier, it increases tenfold your liability to moral misery. +It seems to me a rash thing for a sensitive soul deliberately +to cultivate its sensibilities by rambling too often among the ruins +of the Palatine, or riding too often in the shadow of the aqueducts. +In such recreations the chords of feeling grow tense, +and after-life, to spare your intellectual nerves, must play +upon them with a touch as dainty as the tread of Mignon when she +danced her egg-dance." + +"I should have said, my dear Rowland," said Cecilia, with a laugh, +"that your nerves were tough, that your eggs were hard!" + +"That being stupid, you mean, I might be happy? Upon my word I am not. +I am clever enough to want more than I 've got. I am tired of myself, +my own thoughts, my own affairs, my own eternal company. +True happiness, we are told, consists in getting out of one's self; +but the point is not only to get out--you must stay out; +and to stay out you must have some absorbing errand. +Unfortunately, I 've got no errand, and nobody will trust me with one. +I want to care for something, or for some one. And I want to care with +a certain ardor; even, if you can believe it, with a certain passion. +I can't just now feel ardent and passionate about a hospital or a dormitory. +Do you know I sometimes think that I 'm a man of genius, half finished? +The genius has been left out, the faculty of expression is wanting; +but the need for expression remains, and I spend my days groping +for the latch of a closed door." + +"What an immense number of words," said Cecilia after a pause, +"to say you want to fall in love! I 've no doubt you have as good +a genius for that as any one, if you would only trust it." + +"Of course I 've thought of that, and I assure you I hold +myself ready. But, evidently, I 'm not inflammable. +Is there in Northampton some perfect epitome of the graces?" + +"Of the graces?" said Cecilia, raising her eyebrows and suppressing too +distinct a consciousness of being herself a rosy embodiment of several. +"The household virtues are better represented. There are some +excellent girls, and there are two or three very pretty ones. +I will have them here, one by one, to tea, if you like." + +"I should particularly like it; especially as I should give you a chance +to see, by the profundity of my attention, that if I am not happy, +it 's not for want of taking pains." + +Cecilia was silent a moment; and then, "On the whole," +she resumed, "I don't think there are any worth asking. +There are none so very pretty, none so very pleasing." + +"Are you very sure?" asked the young man, rising and throwing +away his cigar-end. + +"Upon my word," cried Cecilia, "one would suppose I wished to keep you +for myself. Of course I am sure! But as the penalty of your insinuations, +I shall invite the plainest and prosiest damsel that can be found, +and leave you alone with her." + +Rowland smiled. "Even against her," he said, "I should be sorry +to conclude until I had given her my respectful attention." + +This little profession of ideal chivalry (which closed +the conversation) was not quite so fanciful on Mallet's lips +as it would have been on those of many another man; as a rapid +glance at his antecedents may help to make the reader perceive. +His life had been a singular mixture of the rough and the smooth. +He had sprung from a rigid Puritan stock, and had been +brought up to think much more intently of the duties +of this life than of its privileges and pleasures. +His progenitors had submitted in the matter of dogmatic +theology to the relaxing influences of recent years; +but if Rowland's youthful consciousness was not chilled +by the menace of long punishment for brief transgression, +he had at least been made to feel that there ran through all +things a strain of right and of wrong, as different, after all, +in their complexions, as the texture, to the spiritual sense, +of Sundays and week-days. His father was a chip of the primal +Puritan block, a man with an icy smile and a stony frown. +He had always bestowed on his son, on principle, more frowns +than smiles, and if the lad had not been turned to stone himself, +it was because nature had blessed him, inwardly, with a well +of vivifying waters. Mrs. Mallet had been a Miss Rowland, +the daughter of a retired sea-captain, once famous +on the ships that sailed from Salem and Newburyport. +He had brought to port many a cargo which crowned +the edifice of fortunes already almost colossal, but he had +also done a little sagacious trading on his own account, +and he was able to retire, prematurely for so sea-worthy +a maritime organism, upon a pension of his own providing. +He was to be seen for a year on the Salem wharves, smoking the best +tobacco and eying the seaward horizon with an inveteracy +which superficial minds interpreted as a sign of repentance. +At last, one evening, he disappeared beneath it, as he had often +done before; this time, however, not as a commissioned navigator, +but simply as an amateur of an observing turn likely to +prove oppressive to the officer in command of the vessel. +Five months later his place at home knew him again, and made +the acquaintance also of a handsome, blonde young woman, +of redundant contours, speaking a foreign tongue. +The foreign tongue proved, after much conflicting research, +to be the idiom of Amsterdam, and the young woman, +which was stranger still, to be Captain Rowland's wife. +Why he had gone forth so suddenly across the seas to marry her, +what had happened between them before, and whether--though it was +of questionable propriety for a good citizen to espouse a young +person of mysterious origin, who did her hair in fantastically +elaborate plaits, and in whose appearance "figure" enjoyed +such striking predominance--he would not have had a heavy weight +on his conscience if he had remained an irresponsible bachelor; +these questions and many others, bearing with varying +degrees of immediacy on the subject, were much propounded +but scantily answered, and this history need not be charged +with resolving them. Mrs. Rowland, for so handsome a woman, +proved a tranquil neighbor and an excellent housewife. +Her extremely fresh complexion, however, was always suffused +with an air of apathetic homesickness, and she played her part +in American society chiefly by having the little squares +of brick pavement in front of her dwelling scoured and polished +as nearly as possible into the likeness of Dutch tiles. +Rowland Mallet remembered having seen her, as a child-- +an immensely stout, white-faced lady, wearing a high cap +of very stiff tulle, speaking English with a formidable accent, +and suffering from dropsy. Captain Rowland was a little +bronzed and wizened man, with eccentric opinions. +He advocated the creation of a public promenade along the sea, +with arbors and little green tables for the consumption of beer, +and a platform, surrounded by Chinese lanterns, for dancing. +He especially desired the town library to be opened on Sundays, +though, as he never entered it on week-days, it was easy to turn +the proposition into ridicule. If, therefore, Mrs. Mallet +was a woman of an exquisite moral tone, it was not that she had +inherited her temper from an ancestry with a turn for casuistry. +Jonas Mallet, at the time of his marriage, was conducting +with silent shrewdness a small, unpromising business. +Both his shrewdness and his silence increased with his years, +and at the close of his life he was an extremely well-dressed, +wellbrushed gentleman, with a frigid gray eye, who said +little to anybody, but of whom everybody said that he had +a very handsome fortune. He was not a sentimental father, +and the roughness I just now spoke of in Rowland's life dated +from his early boyhood. Mr. Mallet, whenever he looked at +his son, felt extreme compunction at having made a fortune. +He remembered that the fruit had not dropped ripe from +the tree into his own mouth, and determined it should +be no fault of his if the boy was corrupted by luxury. +Rowland, therefore, except for a good deal of expensive +instruction in foreign tongues and abstruse sciences, +received the education of a poor man's son. His fare was plain, +his temper familiar with the discipline of patched trousers, +and his habits marked by an exaggerated simplicity which it +really cost a good deal of money to preserve unbroken. +He was kept in the country for months together, in the midst +of servants who had strict injunctions to see that he suffered +no serious harm, but were as strictly forbidden to wait upon him. +As no school could be found conducted on principles +sufficiently rigorous, he was attended at home by a master who set +a high price on the understanding that he was to illustrate +the beauty of abstinence not only by precept but by example. +Rowland passed for a child of ordinary parts, and certainly, +during his younger years, was an excellent imitation of a boy +who had inherited nothing whatever that was to make life easy. +He was passive, pliable, frank, extremely slow at his books, +and inordinately fond of trout-fishing. His hair, a memento +of his Dutch ancestry, was of the fairest shade of yellow, +his complexion absurdly rosy, and his measurement around the waist, +when he was about ten years old, quite alarmingly large. +This, however, was but an episode in his growth; he became +afterwards a fresh-colored, yellow-bearded man, but he was +never accused of anything worse than a tendency to corpulence. +He emerged from childhood a simple, wholesome, round-eyed lad, +with no suspicion that a less roundabout course might have +been taken to make him happy, but with a vague sense that his +young experience was not a fair sample of human freedom, +and that he was to make a great many discoveries. +When he was about fifteen, he achieved a momentous one. +He ascertained that his mother was a saint. She had always +been a very distinct presence in his life, but so ineffably +gentle a one that his sense was fully opened to it only +by the danger of losing her. She had an illness which for +many months was liable at any moment to terminate fatally, +and during her long-arrested convalescence she removed +the mask which she had worn for years by her husband's order. +Rowland spent his days at her side and felt before long +as if he had made a new friend. All his impressions at this +period were commented and interpreted at leisure in the future, +and it was only then that he understood that his mother +had been for fifteen years a perfectly unhappy woman. +Her marriage had been an immitigable error which she had +spent her life in trying to look straight in the face. +She found nothing to oppose to her husband's will of steel +but the appearance of absolute compliance; her spirit sank, +and she lived for a while in a sort of helpless moral torpor. +But at last, as her child emerged from babyhood, she began to feel +a certain charm in patience, to discover the uses of ingenuity, +and to learn that, somehow or other, one can always arrange +one's life. She cultivated from this time forward a little private +plot of sentiment, and it was of this secluded precinct that, +before her death, she gave her son the key. Rowland's allowance +at college was barely sufficient to maintain him decently, +and as soon as he graduated, he was taken into his father's +counting-house, to do small drudgery on a proportionate salary. +For three years he earned his living as regularly as +the obscure functionary in fustian who swept the office. +Mr. Mallet was consistent, but the perfection of his consistency +was known only on his death. He left but a third of his property +to his son, and devoted the remainder to various public institutions +and local charities. Rowland's third was an easy competence, +and he never felt a moment's jealousy of his fellow-pensioners; +but when one of the establishments which had figured most +advantageously in his father's will bethought itself to affirm +the existence of a later instrument, in which it had been +still more handsomely treated, the young man felt a sudden +passionate need to repel the claim by process of law. +There was a lively tussle, but he gained his case; +immediately after which he made, in another quarter, +a donation of the contested sum. He cared nothing for the money, +but he had felt an angry desire to protest against a destiny +which seemed determined to be exclusively salutary. +It seemed to him that he would bear a little spoiling. +And yet he treated himself to a very modest quantity, and submitted +without reserve to the great national discipline which began in 1861. +When the Civil War broke out he immediately obtained a commission, +and did his duty for three long years as a citizen soldier. +His duty was obscure, but he never lost a certain private +satisfaction in remembering that on two or three occasions +it had been performed with something of an ideal precision. +He had disentangled himself from business, and after the war +he felt a profound disinclination to tie the knot again. +He had no desire to make money, he had money enough; +and although he knew, and was frequently reminded, that a young +man is the better for a fixed occupation, he could discover +no moral advantage in driving a lucrative trade. Yet few young +men of means and leisure ever made less of a parade of idleness, +and indeed idleness in any degree could hardly be laid at +the door of a young man who took life in the serious, attentive, +reasoning fashion of our friend. It often seemed to Mallet +that he wholly lacked the prime requisite of a graceful flaneur-- +the simple, sensuous, confident relish of pleasure. +He had frequent fits of extreme melancholy, in which he declared +that he was neither fish nor flesh nor good red herring. +He was neither an irresponsibly contemplative nature nor a sturdily +practical one, and he was forever looking in vain for the uses +of the things that please and the charm of the things that sustain. +He was an awkward mixture of strong moral impulse and restless +aesthetic curiosity, and yet he would have made a most ineffective +reformer and a very indifferent artist. It seemed to him +that the glow of happiness must be found either in action, +of some immensely solid kind, on behalf of an idea, or in producing +a masterpiece in one of the arts. Oftenest, perhaps, he wished +he were a vigorous young man of genius, without a penny. +As it was, he could only buy pictures, and not paint them; +and in the way of action, he had to content himself with making +a rule to render scrupulous moral justice to handsome examples +of it in others. On the whole, he had an incorruptible modesty. +With his blooming complexion and his serene gray eye, +he felt the friction of existence more than was suspected; +but he asked no allowance on grounds of temper, he assumed +that fate had treated him inordinately well and that he had no +excuse for taking an ill-natured view of life, and he undertook +constantly to believe that all women were fair, all men +were brave, and the world was a delightful place of sojourn, +until the contrary had been distinctly proved. + +Cecilia's blooming garden and shady porch had seemed so friendly to repose +and a cigar, that she reproached him the next morning with indifference to +her little parlor, not less, in its way, a monument to her ingenious taste. +"And by the way," she added as he followed her in, "if I refused last night +to show you a pretty girl, I can at least show you a pretty boy." + +She threw open a window and pointed to a statuette which occupied +the place of honor among the ornaments of the room. Rowland looked +at it a moment and then turned to her with an exclamation of surprise. +She gave him a rapid glance, perceived that her statuette was of +altogether exceptional merit, and then smiled, knowingly, as if this +had long been an agreeable certainty. + +"Who did it? where did you get it?" Rowland demanded. + +"Oh," said Cecilia, adjusting the light, "it 's a little thing +of Mr. Hudson's." + +"And who the deuce is Mr. Hudson?" asked Rowland. But he was absorbed; +he lost her immediate reply. The statuette, in bronze, something less +than two feet high, represented a naked youth drinking from a gourd. +The attitude was perfectly simple. The lad was squarely planted on +his feet, with his legs a little apart; his back was slightly hollowed, +his head thrown back, and both hands raised to support the rustic cup. +There was a loosened fillet of wild flowers about his head, +and his eyes, under their drooped lids, looked straight into the cup. +On the base was scratched the Greek word ;aa;gD;gi;gc;ga, Thirst. +The figure might have been some beautiful youth of ancient fable,-- +Hylas or Narcissus, Paris or Endymion. Its beauty was the beauty +of natural movement; nothing had been sought to be represented but +the perfection of an attitude. This had been most attentively studied, +and it was exquisitely rendered. Rowland demanded more light, +dropped his head on this side and that, uttered vague exclamations. +He said to himself, as he had said more than once in the Louvre +and the Vatican, "We ugly mortals, what beautiful creatures we are!" +Nothing, in a long time, had given him so much pleasure. +"Hudson--Hudson," he asked again; "who is Hudson?" + +"A young man of this place," said Cecilia. + +"A young man? How old?" + +"I suppose he is three or four and twenty." + +"Of this place, you say--of Northampton, Massachusetts?" + +"He lives here, but he comes from Virginia." + +"Is he a sculptor by profession?" + +"He 's a law-student." + +Rowland burst out laughing. "He has found something in Blackstone that I +never did. He makes statues then simply for his pleasure?" + +Cecilia, with a smile, gave a little toss of her head. "For mine!" + +"I congratulate you," said Rowland. "I wonder whether he could +be induced to do anything for me?" + +"This was a matter of friendship. I saw the figure when +he had modeled it in clay, and of course greatly admired it. +He said nothing at the time, but a week ago, on my birthday, +he arrived in a buggy, with this. He had had it cast at the foundry +at Chicopee; I believe it 's a beautiful piece of bronze. +He begged me to accept." + +"Upon my word," said Mallet, "he does things handsomely!" +And he fell to admiring the statue again. + +"So then," said Cecilia, "it 's very remarkable?" + +"Why, my dear cousin," Rowland answered, "Mr. Hudson, +of Virginia, is an extraordinary--" Then suddenly stopping: +"Is he a great friend of yours?" he asked. + +"A great friend?" and Cecilia hesitated. "I regard him as a child!" + +"Well," said Rowland, "he 's a very clever child. +Tell me something about him: I should like to see him." + +Cecilia was obliged to go to her daughter's music-lesson, but she assured +Rowland that she would arrange for him a meeting with the young sculptor. +He was a frequent visitor, and as he had not called for some days it +was likely he would come that evening. Rowland, left alone, examined the +statuette at his leisure, and returned more than once during the day to take +another look at it. He discovered its weak points, but it wore well. +It had the stamp of genius. Rowland envied the happy youth who, in a New +England village, without aid or encouragement, without models or resources, +had found it so easy to produce a lovely work. + +In the evening, as he was smoking his cigar on the veranda, a light, +quick step pressed the gravel of the garden path, and in a moment +a young man made his bow to Cecilia. It was rather a nod than a bow, +and indicated either that he was an old friend, or that he was scantily +versed in the usual social forms. Cecilia, who was sitting near the steps, +pointed to a neighboring chair, but the young man seated himself abruptly +on the floor at her feet, began to fan himself vigorously with his hat, +and broke out into a lively objurgation upon the hot weather. +"I 'm dripping wet!" he said, without ceremony. + +"You walk too fast," said Cecilia. "You do everything too fast." + +"I know it, I know it!" he cried, passing his hand through his +abundant dark hair and making it stand out in a picturesque shock. +"I can't be slow if I try. There 's something inside of me that drives me. +A restless fiend!" + +Cecilia gave a light laugh, and Rowland leaned forward in his hammock. +He had placed himself in it at Bessie's request, and was playing +that he was her baby and that she was rocking him to sleep. +She sat beside him, swinging the hammock to and fro, and singing a lullaby. +When he raised himself she pushed him back and said that the baby +must finish its nap. "But I want to see the gentleman with the fiend +inside of him," said Rowland. + +"What is a fiend?" Bessie demanded. "It 's only Mr. Hudson." + +"Very well, I want to see him." + +"Oh, never mind him!" said Bessie, with the brevity of contempt. + +"You speak as if you did n't like him." + +"I don't!" Bessie affirmed, and put Rowland to bed again. + +The hammock was swung at the end of the veranda, in the thickest +shade of the vines, and this fragment of dialogue had +passed unnoticed. Rowland submitted a while longer to be cradled, +and contented himself with listening to Mr. Hudson's voice. +It was a soft and not altogether masculine organ, and was pitched +on this occasion in a somewhat plaintive and pettish key. +The young man's mood seemed fretful; he complained of the heat, +of the dust, of a shoe that hurt him, of having gone on an errand +a mile to the other side of the town and found the person he was +in search of had left Northampton an hour before. + +"Won't you have a cup of tea?" Cecilia asked. "Perhaps that will +restore your equanimity." + +"Aye, by keeping me awake all night!" said Hudson. +"At the best, it 's hard enough to go down to the office. +With my nerves set on edge by a sleepless night, I should +perforce stay at home and be brutal to my poor mother." + +"Your mother is well, I hope." + +"Oh, she 's as usual." + +"And Miss Garland?" + +"She 's as usual, too. Every one, everything, is as usual. +Nothing ever happens, in this benighted town." + +"I beg your pardon; things do happen, sometimes," said Cecilia. +"Here is a dear cousin of mine arrived on purpose to congratulate +you on your statuette." And she called to Rowland to come and be +introduced to Mr. Hudson. The young man sprang up with alacrity, +and Rowland, coming forward to shake hands, had a good look +at him in the light projected from the parlor window. +Something seemed to shine out of Hudson's face as a warning +against a "compliment" of the idle, unpondered sort. + +"Your statuette seems to me very good," Rowland said gravely. +"It has given me extreme pleasure." + +"And my cousin knows what is good," said Cecilia. +"He 's a connoisseur." + +Hudson smiled and stared. "A connoisseur?" he cried, laughing. "He 's +the first I 've ever seen! Let me see what they look like;" and he drew +Rowland nearer to the light. "Have they all such good heads as that? +I should like to model yours." + +"Pray do," said Cecilia. "It will keep him a while. +He is running off to Europe." + +"Ah, to Europe!" Hudson exclaimed with a melancholy cadence, +as they sat down. "Happy man!" + +But the note seemed to Rowland to be struck rather at random, +for he perceived no echo of it in the boyish garrulity +of his later talk. Hudson was a tall, slender young fellow, +with a singularly mobile and intelligent face. +Rowland was struck at first only with its responsive vivacity, +but in a short time he perceived it was remarkably handsome. +The features were admirably chiseled and finished, and a frank +smile played over them as gracefully as a breeze among flowers. +The fault of the young man's whole structure was an excessive +want of breadth. The forehead, though it was high and rounded, +was narrow; the jaw and the shoulders were narrow; +and the result was an air of insufficient physical substance. +But Mallet afterwards learned that this fair, slim youth could draw +indefinitely upon a mysterious fund of nervous force, which outlasted +and outwearied the endurance of many a sturdier temperament. +And certainly there was life enough in his eye to furnish +an immortality! It was a generous dark gray eye, in which +there came and went a sort of kindling glow, which would +have made a ruder visage striking, and which gave at times +to Hudson's harmonious face an altogether extraordinary beauty. +There was to Rowland's sympathetic sense a slightly +pitiful disparity between the young sculptor's delicate +countenance and the shabby gentility of his costume. +He was dressed for a visit--a visit to a pretty woman. +He was clad from head to foot in a white linen suit, +which had never been remarkable for the felicity of its cut, +and had now quite lost that crispness which garments of this +complexion can as ill spare as the back-scene of a theatre +the radiance of the footlights. He wore a vivid blue cravat, +passed through a ring altogether too splendid to be valuable; +he pulled and twisted, as he sat, a pair of yellow kid gloves; +he emphasized his conversation with great dashes and flourishes +of a light, silver-tipped walking-stick, and he kept constantly +taking off and putting on one of those slouched sombreros +which are the traditional property of the Virginian or Carolinian +of romance. When this was on, he was very picturesque, +in spite of his mock elegance; and when it was off, +and he sat nursing it and turning it about and not knowing +what to do with it, he could hardly be said to be awkward. +He evidently had a natural relish for brilliant accessories, +and appropriated what came to his hand. This was visible +in his talk, which abounded in the florid and sonorous. +He liked words with color in them. + +Rowland, who was but a moderate talker, sat by in silence, +while Cecilia, who had told him that she desired his +opinion upon her friend, used a good deal of characteristic +finesse in leading the young man to expose himself. +She perfectly succeeded, and Hudson rattled away for an hour +with a volubility in which boyish unconsciousness and manly +shrewdness were singularly combined. He gave his opinion on +twenty topics, he opened up an endless budget of local gossip, +he described his repulsive routine at the office of Messrs. +Striker and Spooner, counselors at law, and he gave with great +felicity and gusto an account of the annual boat-race between +Harvard and Yale, which he had lately witnessed at Worcester. +He had looked at the straining oarsmen and the swaying crowd +with the eye of the sculptor. Rowland was a good deal +amused and not a little interested. Whenever Hudson uttered +some peculiarly striking piece of youthful grandiloquence, +Cecilia broke into a long, light, familiar laugh. + +"What are you laughing at?" the young man then demanded. +"Have I said anything so ridiculous?" + +"Go on, go on," Cecilia replied. "You are too delicious! +Show Mr. Mallet how Mr. Striker read the Declaration of Independence." + +Hudson, like most men with a turn for the plastic arts, was an +excellent mimic, and he represented with a great deal of humor +the accent and attitude of a pompous country lawyer sustaining +the burden of this customary episode of our national festival. +The sonorous twang, the see-saw gestures, the odd pronunciation, +were vividly depicted. But Cecilia's manner, and the young man's +quick response, ruffled a little poor Rowland's paternal conscience. +He wondered whether his cousin was not sacrificing the faculty +of reverence in her clever protege to her need for amusement. +Hudson made no serious rejoinder to Rowland's compliment +on his statuette until he rose to go. Rowland wondered +whether he had forgotten it, and supposed that the oversight +was a sign of the natural self-sufficiency of genius. +But Hudson stood a moment before he said good night, +twirled his sombrero, and hesitated for the first time. +He gave Rowland a clear, penetrating glance, and then, +with a wonderfully frank, appealing smile: "You really meant," +he asked, "what you said a while ago about that thing of mine? +It is good--essentially good?" + +"I really meant it," said Rowland, laying a kindly hand on his shoulder. +"It is very good indeed. It is, as you say, essentially good. +That is the beauty of it." + +Hudson's eyes glowed and expanded; he looked at Rowland for some time +in silence. "I have a notion you really know," he said at last. +"But if you don't, it does n't much matter." + +"My cousin asked me to-day," said Cecilia, "whether I supposed +you knew yourself how good it is." + +Hudson stared, blushing a little. "Perhaps not!" he cried. + +"Very likely," said Mallet. "I read in a book the other day that great +talent in action--in fact the book said genius--is a kind of somnambulism. +The artist performs great feats, in a dream. We must not wake him up, +lest he should lose his balance." + +"Oh, when he 's back in bed again!" Hudson answered with a laugh. +"Yes, call it a dream. It was a very happy one!" + +"Tell me this," said Rowland. "Did you mean anything +by your young Water-drinker? Does he represent an idea? +Is he a symbol?" + +Hudson raised his eyebrows and gently scratched his head. +"Why, he 's youth, you know; he 's innocence, he 's health, +he 's strength, he 's curiosity. Yes, he 's a good many things." + +"And is the cup also a symbol?" + +"The cup is knowledge, pleasure, experience. Anything of that kind!" + +"Well, he 's guzzling in earnest," said Rowland. + +Hudson gave a vigorous nod. "Aye, poor fellow, he 's thirsty!" +And on this he cried good night, and bounded down the garden path. + +"Well, what do you make of him?" asked Cecilia, returning a short +time afterwards from a visit of investigation as to the sufficiency +of Bessie's bedclothes. + +"I confess I like him," said Rowland. "He 's very immature,-- +but there 's stuff in him." + +"He 's a strange being," said Cecilia, musingly. + +"Who are his people? what has been his education?" Rowland asked. + +"He has had no education, beyond what he has picked up, +with little trouble, for himself. His mother is a widow, +of a Massachusetts country family, a little timid, tremulous woman, +who is always on pins and needles about her son. She had some +property herself, and married a Virginian gentleman of good estates. +He turned out, I believe, a very licentious personage, and made +great havoc in their fortune. Everything, or almost everything, +melted away, including Mr. Hudson himself. This is literally true, +for he drank himself to death. Ten years ago his wife was left +a widow, with scanty means and a couple of growing boys. +She paid her husband's debts as best she could, and came +to establish herself here, where by the death of a charitable +relative she had inherited an old-fashioned ruinous house. +Roderick, our friend, was her pride and joy, but Stephen, the elder, +was her comfort and support. I remember him, later; he was +an ugly, sturdy, practical lad, very different from his brother, +and in his way, I imagine, a very fine fellow. When the war broke +out he found that the New England blood ran thicker in his veins +than the Virginian, and immediately obtained a commission. +He fell in some Western battle and left his mother inconsolable. +Roderick, however, has given her plenty to think about, +and she has induced him, by some mysterious art, to abide, +nominally at least, in a profession that he abhors, and for which +he is about as fit, I should say, as I am to drive a locomotive. +He grew up a la grace de Dieu, and was horribly spoiled. +Three or four years ago he graduated at a small college in +this neighborhood, where I am afraid he had given a good deal more +attention to novels and billiards than to mathematics and Greek. +Since then he has been reading law, at the rate of a page a day. +If he is ever admitted to practice I 'm afraid my friendship won't +avail to make me give him my business. Good, bad, or indifferent, +the boy is essentially an artist--an artist to his fingers' ends." + +"Why, then," asked Rowland, "does n't he deliberately take up the chisel?" + +"For several reasons. In the first place, I don't think he more +than half suspects his talent. The flame is smouldering, +but it is never fanned by the breath of criticism. +He sees nothing, hears nothing, to help him to self-knowledge. He +'s hopelessly discontented, but he does n't know where to look +for help. Then his mother, as she one day confessed to me, +has a holy horror of a profession which consists exclusively, +as she supposes, in making figures of people without +their clothes on. Sculpture, to her mind, is an insidious +form of immorality, and for a young man of a passionate +disposition she considers the law a much safer investment. +Her father was a judge, she has two brothers at the bar, +and her elder son had made a very promising beginning in +the same line. She wishes the tradition to be perpetuated. +I 'm pretty sure the law won't make Roderick's fortune, +and I 'm afraid it will, in the long run, spoil his temper." + +"What sort of a temper is it?" + +"One to be trusted, on the whole. It is quick, but it is generous. +I have known it to breathe flame and fury at ten o'clock in the evening, +and soft, sweet music early on the morrow. It 's a very entertaining +temper to observe. I, fortunately, can do so dispassionately, +for I 'm the only person in the place he has not quarreled with." + +"Has he then no society? Who is Miss Garland, whom you asked about?" + +"A young girl staying with his mother, a sort of far-away cousin; +a good plain girl, but not a person to delight a sculptor's eye. +Roderick has a goodly share of the old Southern arrogance; +he has the aristocratic temperament. He will have nothing +to do with the small towns-people; he says they 're 'ignoble.' +He cannot endure his mother's friends--the old ladies and +the ministers and the tea-party people; they bore him to death. +So he comes and lounges here and rails at everything and every one." + +This graceful young scoffer reappeared a couple of evenings later, +and confirmed the friendly feeling he had provoked on Rowland's part. +He was in an easier mood than before, he chattered less extravagantly, +and asked Rowland a number of rather naif questions about +the condition of the fine arts in New York and Boston. +Cecilia, when he had gone, said that this was the wholesome effect +of Rowland's praise of his statuette. Roderick was acutely sensitive, +and Rowland's tranquil commendation had stilled his restless pulses. +He was ruminating the full-flavored verdict of culture. Rowland felt +an irresistible kindness for him, a mingled sense of his personal +charm and his artistic capacity. He had an indefinable attraction-- +the something divine of unspotted, exuberant, confident youth. +The next day was Sunday, and Rowland proposed that they should +take a long walk and that Roderick should show him the country. +The young man assented gleefully, and in the morning, +as Rowland at the garden gate was giving his hostess Godspeed +on her way to church, he came striding along the grassy margin +of the road and out-whistling the music of the church bells. +It was one of those lovely days of August when you feel the complete +exuberance of summer just warned and checked by autumn. +"Remember the day, and take care you rob no orchards," said Cecilia, +as they separated. + +The young men walked away at a steady pace, over hill and dale, +through woods and fields, and at last found themselves on a grassy +elevation studded with mossy rocks and red cedars. Just beneath them, +in a great shining curve, flowed the goodly Connecticut. +They flung themselves on the grass and tossed stones into the river; +they talked like old friends. Rowland lit a cigar, and Roderick +refused one with a grimace of extravagant disgust. He thought them +vile things; he did n't see how decent people could tolerate them. +Rowland was amused, and wondered what it was that made this ill-mannered +speech seem perfectly inoffensive on Roderick's lips. He belonged +to the race of mortals, to be pitied or envied according as we view +the matter, who are not held to a strict account for their aggressions. +Looking at him as he lay stretched in the shade, Rowland vaguely +likened him to some beautiful, supple, restless, bright-eyed animal, +whose motions should have no deeper warrant than the tremulous delicacy +of its structure, and be graceful even when they were most inconvenient. +Rowland watched the shadows on Mount Holyoke, listened to +the gurgle of the river, and sniffed the balsam of the pines. +A gentle breeze had begun to tickle their summits, and brought +the smell of the mown grass across from the elm-dotted river meadows. +He sat up beside his companion and looked away at the far-spreading view. +It seemed to him beautiful, and suddenly a strange feeling of prospective +regret took possession of him. Something seemed to tell him that later, +in a foreign land, he would remember it lovingly and penitently. + +"It 's a wretched business," he said, "this practical quarrel of ours +with our own country, this everlasting impatience to get out of it. +Is one's only safety then in flight? This is an American day, +an American landscape, an American atmosphere. It certainly has +its merits, and some day when I am shivering with ague in classic Italy, +I shall accuse myself of having slighted them." + +Roderick kindled with a sympathetic glow, and declared that America was good +enough for him, and that he had always thought it the duty of an honest +citizen to stand by his own country and help it along. He had evidently +thought nothing whatever about it, and was launching his doctrine on +the inspiration of the moment. The doctrine expanded with the occasion, +and he declared that he was above all an advocate for American art. +He did n't see why we should n't produce the greatest works in the world. +We were the biggest people, and we ought to have the biggest conceptions. +The biggest conceptions of course would bring forth in time the +biggest performances. We had only to be true to ourselves, to pitch +in and not be afraid, to fling Imitation overboard and fix our eyes upon +our National Individuality. "I declare," he cried, "there 's a career +for a man, and I 've twenty minds to decide, on the spot, to embrace it-- +to be the consummate, typical, original, national American artist! +It 's inspiring!" + +Rowland burst out laughing and told him that he liked his practice +better than his theory, and that a saner impulse than this had +inspired his little Water-drinker. Roderick took no offense, +and three minutes afterwards was talking volubly of some humbler theme, +but half heeded by his companion, who had returned to his cogitations. +At last Rowland delivered himself of the upshot of these. +"How would you like," he suddenly demanded, "to go to Rome?" + +Hudson stared, and, with a hungry laugh which speedily consigned our National +Individuality to perdition, responded that he would like it reasonably well. +"And I should like, by the same token," he added, "to go to Athens, +to Constantinople, to Damascus, to the holy city of Benares, where there +is a golden statue of Brahma twenty feet tall." + +"Nay," said Rowland soberly, "if you were to go to Rome, +you should settle down and work. Athens might help you, +but for the present I should n't recommend Benares." + +"It will be time to arrange details when I pack my trunk," said Hudson. + +"If you mean to turn sculptor, the sooner you pack your trunk the better." + +"Oh, but I 'm a practical man! What is the smallest sum per annum, +on which one can keep alive the sacred fire in Rome?" + +"What is the largest sum at your disposal?" + +Roderick stroked his light moustache, gave it a twist, and then +announced with mock pomposity: "Three hundred dollars!" + +"The money question could be arranged," said Rowland. +"There are ways of raising money." + +"I should like to know a few! I never yet discovered one." + +"One consists," said Rowland, "in having a friend with a good deal +more than he wants, and not being too proud to accept a part of it. +" + +Roderick stared a moment and his face flushed. "Do you mean-- +do you mean?".... he stammered. He was greatly excited. + +Rowland got up, blushing a little, and Roderick sprang to his feet. +"In three words, if you are to be a sculptor, you ought to go +to Rome and study the antique. To go to Rome you need money. +I 'm fond of fine statues, but unfortunately I can't make them myself. +I have to order them. I order a dozen from you, to be executed +at your convenience. To help you, I pay you in advance." + +Roderick pushed off his hat and wiped his forehead, still gazing +at his companion. "You believe in me!" he cried at last. + +"Allow me to explain," said Rowland. "I believe in you, +if you are prepared to work and to wait, and to struggle, +and to exercise a great many virtues. And then, I 'm afraid +to say it, lest I should disturb you more than I should help you. +You must decide for yourself. I simply offer you an opportunity." + +Hudson stood for some time, profoundly meditative. +"You have not seen my other things," he said suddenly. +"Come and look at them." + +"Now?" + +"Yes, we 'll walk home. We 'll settle the question." + +He passed his hand through Rowland's arm and they retraced their steps. +They reached the town and made their way along a broad +country street, dusky with the shade of magnificent elms. +Rowland felt his companion's arm trembling in his own. +They stopped at a large white house, flanked with melancholy hemlocks, +and passed through a little front garden, paved with moss-coated +bricks and ornamented with parterres bordered with high box hedges. +The mansion had an air of antiquated dignity, but it had seen +its best days, and evidently sheltered a shrunken household. +Mrs. Hudson, Rowland was sure, might be seen in the garden +of a morning, in a white apron and a pair of old gloves, +engaged in frugal horticulture. Roderick's studio was behind, +in the basement; a large, empty room, with the paper peeling off +the walls. This represented, in the fashion of fifty years ago, +a series of small fantastic landscapes of a hideous pattern, +and the young sculptor had presumably torn it away in great scraps, +in moments of aesthetic exasperation. On a board in a corner +was a heap of clay, and on the floor, against the wall, stood some +dozen medallions, busts, and figures, in various stages of completion. +To exhibit them Roderick had to place them one by one on +the end of a long packing-box, which served as a pedestal. +He did so silently, making no explanations, and looking +at them himself with a strange air of quickened curiosity. +Most of the things were portraits; and the three at which he looked +longest were finished busts. One was a colossal head of a negro, +tossed back, defiant, with distended nostrils; one was the portrait +of a young man whom Rowland immediately perceived, by the resemblance, +to be his deceased brother; the last represented a gentleman with +a pointed nose, a long, shaved upper lip, and a tuft on the end +of his chin. This was a face peculiarly unadapted to sculpture; +but as a piece of modeling it was the best, and it was admirable. +It reminded Rowland in its homely veracity, its artless artfulness, +of the works of the early Italian Renaissance. On the pedestal +was cut the name--Barnaby Striker, Esq. Rowland remembered that this +was the appellation of the legal luminary from whom his companion +had undertaken to borrow a reflected ray, and although in the bust +there was naught flagrantly set down in malice, it betrayed, +comically to one who could relish the secret, that the features +of the original had often been scanned with an irritated eye. +Besides these there were several rough studies of the nude, +and two or three figures of a fanciful kind. The most noticeable +(and it had singular beauty) was a small modeled design for +a sepulchral monument; that, evidently, of Stephen Hudson. +The young soldier lay sleeping eternally, with his hand on his sword, +like an old crusader in a Gothic cathedral. + +Rowland made no haste to pronounce; too much depended on his judgment. +"Upon my word," cried Hudson at last, "they seem to me very good." + +And in truth, as Rowland looked, he saw they were good. +They were youthful, awkward, and ignorant; the effort, +often, was more apparent than the success. But the effort +was signally powerful and intelligent; it seemed to Rowland +that it needed only to let itself go to compass great things. +Here and there, too, success, when grasped, had something masterly. +Rowland turned to his companion, who stood with his hands in his +pockets and his hair very much crumpled, looking at him askance. +The light of admiration was in Rowland's eyes, and it speedily +kindled a wonderful illumination on Hudson's handsome brow. +Rowland said at last, gravely, "You have only to work!" + +"I think I know what that means," Roderick answered. +He turned away, threw himself on a rickety chair, and sat for some +moments with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. +"Work--work?" he said at last, looking up, "ah, if I could only begin!" +He glanced round the room a moment and his eye encountered on +the mantel-shelf the vivid physiognomy of Mr. Barnaby Striker. +His smile vanished, and he stared at it with an air of concentrated enmity. +"I want to begin," he cried, "and I can't make a better beginning than this! +Good-by, Mr. Striker!" He strode across the room, seized a mallet +that lay at hand, and before Rowland could interfere, in the interest +of art if not of morals, dealt a merciless blow upon Mr. Striker's skull. +The bust cracked into a dozen pieces, which toppled with a great crash +upon the floor. Rowland relished neither the destruction of the image +nor his companion's look in working it, but as he was about to express +his displeasure the door opened and gave passage to a young girl. +She came in with a rapid step and startled face, as if she had +been summoned by the noise. Seeing the heap of shattered clay +and the mallet in Roderick's hand, she gave a cry of horror. +Her voice died away when she perceived that Rowland was a stranger, +but she murmured reproachfully, "Why, Roderick, what have you done?" + +Roderick gave a joyous kick to the shapeless fragments. +"I 've driven the money-changers out of the temple!" he cried. + +The traces retained shape enough to be recognized, and she gave a little +moan of pity. She seemed not to understand the young man's allegory, +but yet to feel that it pointed to some great purpose, which must +be an evil one, from being expressed in such a lawless fashion, +and to perceive that Rowland was in some way accountable for it. +She looked at him with a sharp, frank mistrust, and turned away through +the open door. Rowland looked after her with extraordinary interest. + + + + + +CHAPTER II. Roderick + +Early on the morrow Rowland received a visit from his new friend. +Roderick was in a state of extreme exhilaration, tempered, however, by a +certain amount of righteous wrath. He had had a domestic struggle, +but he had remained master of the situation. He had shaken the dust +of Mr. Striker's office from his feet. + +"I had it out last night with my mother," he said. +"I dreaded the scene, for she takes things terribly hard. +She does n't scold nor storm, and she does n't argue nor insist. +She sits with her eyes full of tears that never fall, and looks at me, +when I displease her, as if I were a perfect monster of depravity. +And the trouble is that I was born to displease her. +She does n't trust me; she never has and she never will. +I don't know what I have done to set her against me, but ever +since I can remember I have been looked at with tears. +The trouble is," he went on, giving a twist to his moustache, +"I 've been too absurdly docile. I 've been sprawling all my +days by the maternal fireside, and my dear mother has grown used +to bullying me. I 've made myself cheap! If I 'm not in my bed +by eleven o'clock, the girl is sent out to explore with a lantern. +When I think of it, I fairly despise my amiability. It 's rather +a hard fate, to live like a saint and to pass for a sinner! +I should like for six months to lead Mrs. Hudson the life +some fellows lead their mothers!" + +"Allow me to believe," said Rowland, "that you would like nothing of +the sort. If you have been a good boy, don't spoil it by pretending you don't +like it. You have been very happy, I suspect, in spite of your virtues, +and there are worse fates in the world than being loved too well. +I have not had the pleasure of seeing your mother, but I would lay you +a wager that that is the trouble. She is passionately fond of you, +and her hopes, like all intense hopes, keep trembling into fears." +Rowland, as he spoke, had an instinctive vision of how such a beautiful +young fellow must be loved by his female relatives. + +Roderick frowned, and with an impatient gesture, "I do her justice," +he cried. "May she never do me less!" Then after a moment's +hesitation, "I 'll tell you the perfect truth," he went on. +"I have to fill a double place. I have to be my brother as well +as myself. It 's a good deal to ask of a man, especially when +he has so little talent as I for being what he is not. +When we were both young together I was the curled darling. +I had the silver mug and the biggest piece of pudding, +and I stayed in-doors to be kissed by the ladies while he made +mud-pies in the garden and was never missed, of course. +Really, he was worth fifty of me! When he was brought +home from Vicksburg with a piece of shell in his skull, +my poor mother began to think she had n't loved him enough. +I remember, as she hung round my neck sobbing, before his coffin, +she told me that I must be to her everything that he would have been. +I swore in tears and in perfect good faith that I would, but naturally +I have not kept my promise. I have been utterly different. +I have been idle, restless, egotistical, discontented. +I have done no harm, I believe, but I have done no good. +My brother, if he had lived, would have made fifty +thousand dollars and put gas and water into the house. +My mother, brooding night and day on her bereavement, +has come to fix her ideal in offices of that sort. +Judged by that standard I 'm nowhere!" + +Rowland was at loss how to receive this account of his friend's +domestic circumstances; it was plaintive, and yet the manner +seemed to him over-trenchant. "You must lose no time in making +a masterpiece," he answered; "then with the proceeds you can +give her gas from golden burners." + +"So I have told her; but she only half believes either in masterpiece +or in proceeds. She can see no good in my making statues; +they seem to her a snare of the enemy. She would fain see me +all my life tethered to the law, like a browsing goat to a stake. +In that way I 'm in sight. 'It 's a more regular occupation!' +that 's all I can get out of her. A more regular damnation! +Is it a fact that artists, in general, are such wicked men? +I never had the pleasure of knowing one, so I could n't +confute her with an example. She had the advantage of me, +because she formerly knew a portrait-painter at Richmond, +who did her miniature in black lace mittens (you may see it on +the parlor table), who used to drink raw brandy and beat his wife. +I promised her that, whatever I might do to my wife, I would never beat +my mother, and that as for brandy, raw or diluted, I detested it. +She sat silently crying for an hour, during which I expended +treasures of eloquence. It 's a good thing to have to reckon +up one's intentions, and I assure you, as I pleaded my cause, +I was most agreeably impressed with the elevated character of my own. +I kissed her solemnly at last, and told her that I had said +everything and that she must make the best of it. This morning she +has dried her eyes, but I warrant you it is n't a cheerful house. +I long to be out of it!" + +"I 'm extremely sorry," said Rowland, "to have been the prime +cause of so much suffering. I owe your mother some amends; +will it be possible for me to see her?" + +"If you 'll see her, it will smooth matters vastly; +though to tell the truth she 'll need all her courage to face you, +for she considers you an agent of the foul fiend. She does +n't see why you should have come here and set me by the ears: +you are made to ruin ingenuous youths and desolate doting mothers. +I leave it to you, personally, to answer these charges. +You see, what she can't forgive--what she 'll not +really ever forgive--is your taking me off to Rome. +Rome is an evil word, in my mother's vocabulary, to be said +in a whisper, as you 'd say 'damnation.' Northampton is in +the centre of the earth and Rome far away in outlying dusk, +into which it can do no Christian any good to penetrate. +And there was I but yesterday a doomed habitue of that repository +of every virtue, Mr. Striker's office!" + +"And does Mr. Striker know of your decision?" asked Rowland. + +"To a certainty! Mr. Striker, you must know, is not +simply a good-natured attorney, who lets me dog's-ear his +law-books. He's a particular friend and general adviser. +He looks after my mother's property and kindly consents +to regard me as part of it. Our opinions have always been +painfully divergent, but I freely forgive him his zealous attempts +to unscrew my head-piece and set it on hind part before. +He never understood me, and it was useless to try to make him. +We speak a different language--we 're made of a different clay. +I had a fit of rage yesterday when I smashed his bust, +at the thought of all the bad blood he had stirred up in me; +it did me good, and it 's all over now. I don't hate him any more; +I 'm rather sorry for him. See how you 've improved me! +I must have seemed to him wilfully, wickedly stupid, and I 'm sure +he only tolerated me on account of his great regard for my mother. +This morning I grasped the bull by the horns. I took an armful +of law-books that have been gathering the dust in my room for +the last year and a half, and presented myself at the office. +'Allow me to put these back in their places,' I said. +'I shall never have need for them more--never more, never more, +never more!' 'So you 've learned everything they contain?' +asked Striker, leering over his spectacles. 'Better late +than never.' 'I 've learned nothing that you can teach me,' +I cried. 'But I shall tax your patience no longer. +I 'm going to be a sculptor. I 'm going to Rome. +I won't bid you good-by just yet; I shall see you again. +But I bid good-by here, with rapture, to these four detested walls-- +to this living tomb! I did n't know till now how I hated it! +My compliments to Mr. Spooner, and my thanks for all you +have not made of me!' " + +"I 'm glad to know you are to see Mr. Striker again," +Rowland answered, correcting a primary inclination to smile. +"You certainly owe him a respectful farewell, even if he has +not understood you. I confess you rather puzzle me. +There is another person," he presently added, "whose opinion +as to your new career I should like to know. What does +Miss Garland think?" + +Hudson looked at him keenly, with a slight blush. +Then, with a conscious smile, "What makes you suppose she +thinks anything?" he asked. + +"Because, though I saw her but for a moment yesterday, +she struck me as a very intelligent person, and I am sure +she has opinions." + +The smile on Roderick's mobile face passed rapidly into a frown. +"Oh, she thinks what I think!" he answered. + +Before the two young men separated Rowland attempted to give +as harmonious a shape as possible to his companion's scheme. +"I have launched you, as I may say," he said, "and I feel as if I ought +to see you into port. I am older than you and know the world better, +and it seems well that we should voyage a while together. +It 's on my conscience that I ought to take you to Rome, walk you +through the Vatican, and then lock you up with a heap of clay. +I sail on the fifth of September; can you make your preparations +to start with me?" + +Roderick assented to all this with an air of candid confidence +in his friend's wisdom that outshone the virtue of pledges. +"I have no preparations to make," he said with a smile, +raising his arms and letting them fall, as if to indicate his +unencumbered condition. "What I am to take with me I carry here!" +and he tapped his forehead. + +"Happy man!" murmured Rowland with a sigh, thinking of the light stowage, +in his own organism, in the region indicated by Roderick, and of the heavy +one in deposit at his banker's, of bags and boxes. + +When his companion had left him he went in search of Cecilia. +She was sitting at work at a shady window, and welcomed him to a low +chintz-covered chair. He sat some time, thoughtfully snipping tape with +her scissors; he expected criticism and he was preparing a rejoinder. +At last he told her of Roderick's decision and of his own influence in it. +Cecilia, besides an extreme surprise, exhibited a certain fine displeasure +at his not having asked her advice. + +"What would you have said, if I had?" he demanded. + +"I would have said in the first place, 'Oh for pity's sake don't +carry off the person in all Northampton who amuses me most!' +I would have said in the second place, 'Nonsense! the boy is doing +very well. Let well alone!' " + +"That in the first five minutes. What would you have said later?" + +"That for a man who is generally averse to meddling, you were +suddenly rather officious." + +Rowland's countenance fell. He frowned in silence. +Cecilia looked at him askance; gradually the spark of irritation +faded from her eye. + +"Excuse my sharpness," she resumed at last. +"But I am literally in despair at losing Roderick Hudson. +His visits in the evening, for the past year, have kept me alive. +They have given a silver tip to leaden days. I don't say +he is of a more useful metal than other people, but he is +of a different one. Of course, however, that I shall miss him +sadly is not a reason for his not going to seek his fortune. +Men must work and women must weep!" + +"Decidedly not!" said Rowland, with a good deal of emphasis. +He had suspected from the first hour of his stay that Cecilia had +treated herself to a private social luxury; he had then discovered +that she found it in Hudson's lounging visits and boyish chatter, +and he had felt himself wondering at last whether, judiciously viewed, +her gain in the matter was not the young man's loss. +It was evident that Cecilia was not judicious, and that her good sense, +habitually rigid under the demands of domestic economy, indulged itself +with a certain agreeable laxity on this particular point. +She liked her young friend just as he was; she humored him, flattered him, +laughed at him, caressed him--did everything but advise him. +It was a flirtation without the benefits of a flirtation. +She was too old to let him fall in love with her, which might +have done him good; and her inclination was to keep him young, +so that the nonsense he talked might never transgress a certain line. +It was quite conceivable that poor Cecilia should relish a pastime; +but if one had philanthropically embraced the idea that something +considerable might be made of Roderick, it was impossible not +to see that her friendship was not what might be called tonic. +So Rowland reflected, in the glow of his new-born sympathy. +There was a later time when he would have been grateful if Hudson's +susceptibility to the relaxing influence of lovely women might +have been limited to such inexpensive tribute as he rendered +the excellent Cecilia. + +"I only desire to remind you," she pursued, "that you are likely +to have your hands full." + +"I 've thought of that, and I rather like the idea; liking, as I do, the man. +I told you the other day, you know, that I longed to have something on +my hands. When it first occurred to me that I might start our young friend +on the path of glory, I felt as if I had an unimpeachable inspiration. +Then I remembered there were dangers and difficulties, and asked myself +whether I had a right to step in between him and his obscurity. +My sense of his really having the divine flame answered the question. +He is made to do the things that humanity is the happier for! +I can't do such things myself, but when I see a young man of genius +standing helpless and hopeless for want of capital, I feel--and it 's +no affectation of humility, I assure you--as if it would give at least +a reflected usefulness to my own life to offer him his opportunity." + +"In the name of humanity, I suppose, I ought to thank you. +But I want, first of all, to be happy myself. You guarantee +us at any rate, I hope, the masterpieces." + +"A masterpiece a year," said Rowland smiling, "for the next quarter +of a century." + +"It seems to me that we have a right to ask more: to demand +that you guarantee us not only the development of the artist, +but the security of the man." + +Rowland became grave again. "His security?" + +"His moral, his sentimental security. Here, you see, +it 's perfect. We are all under a tacit compact to preserve it. +Perhaps you believe in the necessary turbulence of genius, +and you intend to enjoin upon your protege the importance +of cultivating his passions." + +"On the contrary, I believe that a man of genius owes as much deference +to his passions as any other man, but not a particle more, and I confess I +have a strong conviction that the artist is better for leading a quiet life. +That is what I shall preach to my protege, as you call him, by example +as well as by precept. You evidently believe," he added in a moment, +"that he will lead me a dance." + +"Nay, I prophesy nothing. I only think that circumstances, +with our young man, have a great influence; as is proved +by the fact that although he has been fuming and fretting here +for the last five years, he has nevertheless managed to make +the best of it, and found it easy, on the whole, to vegetate. +Transplanted to Rome, I fancy he 'll put forth a denser leafage. +I should like vastly to see the change. You must write me +about it, from stage to stage. I hope with all my heart +that the fruit will be proportionate to the foliage. +Don't think me a bird of ill omen; only remember that you +will be held to a strict account." + +"A man should make the most of himself, and be helped if he needs help," +Rowland answered, after a long pause. "Of course when a body +begins to expand, there comes in the possibility of bursting; +but I nevertheless approve of a certain tension of one's being. +It 's what a man is meant for. And then I believe in the essential +salubrity of genius--true genius." + +"Very good," said Cecilia, with an air of resignation which +made Rowland, for the moment, seem to himself culpably eager. +"We 'll drink then to-day at dinner to the health of our friend." + +* * * + +Having it much at heart to convince Mrs. Hudson of the purity of +his intentions, Rowland waited upon her that evening. He was ushered into +a large parlor, which, by the light of a couple of candles, he perceived +to be very meagrely furnished and very tenderly and sparingly used. +The windows were open to the air of the summer night, and a circle +of three persons was temporarily awed into silence by his appearance. +One of these was Mrs. Hudson, who was sitting at one of the windows, +empty-handed save for the pocket-handkerchief in her lap, +which was held with an air of familiarity with its sadder uses. +Near her, on the sofa, half sitting, half lounging, in the attitude +of a visitor outstaying ceremony, with one long leg flung over the other +and a large foot in a clumsy boot swinging to and fro continually, +was a lean, sandy-haired gentleman whom Rowland recognized as the original +of the portrait of Mr. Barnaby Striker. At the table, near the candles, +busy with a substantial piece of needle-work, sat the young girl +of whom he had had a moment's quickened glimpse in Roderick's studio, +and whom he had learned to be Miss Garland, his companion's kinswoman. +This young lady's limpid, penetrating gaze was the most effective +greeting he received. Mrs. Hudson rose with a soft, vague sound +of distress, and stood looking at him shrinkingly and waveringly, +as if she were sorely tempted to retreat through the open window. +Mr. Striker swung his long leg a trifle defiantly. No one, evidently, +was used to offering hollow welcomes or telling polite fibs. +Rowland introduced himself; he had come, he might say, upon business. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Hudson tremulously; "I know--my son has told me. +I suppose it is better I should see you. Perhaps you will take a seat." + +With this invitation Rowland prepared to comply, and, turning, +grasped the first chair that offered itself. + +"Not that one," said a full, grave voice; whereupon he perceived +that a quantity of sewing-silk had been suspended and entangled +over the back, preparatory to being wound on reels. +He felt the least bit irritated at the curtness of the warning, +coming as it did from a young woman whose countenance he had +mentally pronounced interesting, and with regard to whom +he was conscious of the germ of the inevitable desire to produce +a responsive interest. And then he thought it would break +the ice to say something playfully urbane. + +"Oh, you should let me take the chair," he answered, "and have the pleasure +of holding the skeins myself!" + +For all reply to this sally he received a stare of +undisguised amazement from Miss Garland, who then looked +across at Mrs. Hudson with a glance which plainly said: +"You see he 's quite the insidious personage we feared." +The elder lady, however, sat with her eyes fixed on the ground +and her two hands tightly clasped. But touching her Rowland +felt much more compassion than resentment; her attitude +was not coldness, it was a kind of dread, almost a terror. +She was a small, eager woman, with a pale, troubled face, +which added to her apparent age. After looking at her for some +minutes Rowland saw that she was still young, and that she must +have been a very girlish bride. She had been a pretty one, too, +though she probably had looked terribly frightened at the altar. +She was very delicately made, and Roderick had come honestly +by his physical slimness and elegance. She wore no cap, +and her flaxen hair, which was of extraordinary fineness, +was smoothed and confined with Puritanic precision. +She was excessively shy, and evidently very humble-minded; +it was singular to see a woman to whom the experience +of life had conveyed so little reassurance as to her own +resources or the chances of things turning out well. +Rowland began immediately to like her, and to feel impatient +to persuade her that there was no harm in him, and that, +twenty to one, her son would make her a well-pleased woman yet. +He foresaw that she would be easy to persuade, and that a benevolent +conversational tone would probably make her pass, fluttering, +from distrust into an oppressive extreme of confidence. +But he had an indefinable sense that the person who was testing +that strong young eyesight of hers in the dim candle-light was less +readily beguiled from her mysterious feminine preconceptions. +Miss Garland, according to Cecilia's judgment, as Rowland remembered, +had not a countenance to inspire a sculptor; but it seemed +to Rowland that her countenance might fairly inspire a man who +was far from being a sculptor. She was not pretty, as the eye +of habit judges prettiness, but when you made the observation +you somehow failed to set it down against her, for you had +already passed from measuring contours to tracing meanings. +In Mary Garland's face there were many possible ones, +and they gave you the more to think about that it was not-- +like Roderick Hudson's, for instance--a quick and mobile face, +over which expression flickered like a candle in a wind. +They followed each other slowly, distinctly, gravely, sincerely, +and you might almost have fancied that, as they came and went, +they gave her a sort of pain. She was tall and slender, +and had an air of maidenly strength and decision. +She had a broad forehead and dark eyebrows, a trifle thicker than +those of classic beauties; her gray eye was clear but not brilliant, +and her features were perfectly irregular. Her mouth was large, +fortunately for the principal grace of her physiognomy was +her smile, which displayed itself with magnificent amplitude. +Rowland, indeed, had not yet seen her smile, but something +assured him that her rigid gravity had a radiant counterpart. +She wore a scanty white dress, and had a nameless rustic air +which would have led one to speak of her less as a young lady +than as a young woman. She was evidently a girl of a great +personal force, but she lacked pliancy. She was hemming +a kitchen towel with the aid of a large steel thimble. +She bent her serious eyes at last on her work again, and let +Rowland explain himself. + +"I have become suddenly so very intimate with your son," +he said at last, addressing himself to Mrs. Hudson, "that it +seems just I should make your acquaintance." + +"Very just," murmured the poor lady, and after a moment's hesitation was +on the point of adding something more; but Mr. Striker here interposed, +after a prefatory clearance of the throat. + +"I should like to take the liberty," he said, "of addressing you +a simple question. For how long a period of time have you been +acquainted with our young friend?" He continued to kick the air, +but his head was thrown back and his eyes fixed on the opposite wall, +as if in aversion to the spectacle of Rowland's inevitable confusion. + +"A very short time, I confess. Hardly three days." + +"And yet you call yourself intimate, eh? I have been seeing Mr. Roderick +daily these three years, and yet it was only this morning that I felt +as if I had at last the right to say that I knew him. We had a few moments' +conversation in my office which supplied the missing links in the evidence. +So that now I do venture to say I 'm acquainted with Mr. Roderick! +But wait three years, sir, like me!" and Mr. Striker laughed, with a closed +mouth and a noiseless shake of all his long person. + +Mrs. Hudson smiled confusedly, at hazard; Miss Garland kept her eyes on +her stitches. But it seemed to Rowland that the latter colored a little. +"Oh, in three years, of course," he said, "we shall know each other better. +Before many years are over, madam," he pursued, "I expect the world +to know him. I expect him to be a great man!" + +Mrs. Hudson looked at first as if this could be but an insidious +device for increasing her distress by the assistance of irony. +Then reassured, little by little, by Rowland's benevolent visage, +she gave him an appealing glance and a timorous "Really?" + +But before Rowland could respond, Mr. Striker again intervened. +"Do I fully apprehend your expression?" he asked. +"Our young friend is to become a great man?" + +"A great artist, I hope," said Rowland. + +"This is a new and interesting view," said Mr. Striker, with an assumption +of judicial calmness. "We have had hopes for Mr. Roderick, but I confess, +if I have rightly understood them, they stopped short of greatness. +We should n't have taken the responsibility of claiming it for him. +What do you say, ladies? We all feel about him here--his mother, +Miss Garland, and myself--as if his merits were rather in the line +of the"--and Mr. Striker waved his hand with a series of fantastic +flourishes in the air--"of the light ornamental!" Mr. Striker bore +his recalcitrant pupil a grudge, but he was evidently trying both +to be fair and to respect the susceptibilities of his companions. +But he was unversed in the mysterious processes of feminine emotion. +Ten minutes before, there had been a general harmony of sombre views; +but on hearing Roderick's limitations thus distinctly formulated to +a stranger, the two ladies mutely protested. Mrs. Hudson uttered a short, +faint sigh, and Miss Garland raised her eyes toward their advocate +and visited him with a short, cold glance. + +"I 'm afraid, Mrs. Hudson," Rowland pursued, evading the discussion of +Roderick's possible greatness, "that you don't at all thank me for stirring +up your son's ambition on a line which leads him so far from home. +I suspect I have made you my enemy." + +Mrs. Hudson covered her mouth with her finger-tips and looked +painfully perplexed between the desire to confess the truth +and the fear of being impolite. "My cousin is no one's enemy," +Miss Garland hereupon declared, gently, but with that same fine +deliberateness with which she had made Rowland relax his grasp +of the chair. + +"Does she leave that to you?" Rowland ventured to ask, +with a smile. + +"We are inspired with none but Christian sentiments," +said Mr. Striker; "Miss Garland perhaps most of all. Miss Garland," +and Mr. Striker waved his hand again as if to perform an introduction +which had been regrettably omitted, "is the daughter of a minister, +the granddaughter of a minister, the sister of a minister." +Rowland bowed deferentially, and the young girl went on with her sewing, +with nothing, apparently, either of embarrassment or elation +at the promulgation of these facts. Mr. Striker continued: +"Mrs. Hudson, I see, is too deeply agitated to converse with +you freely. She will allow me to address you a few questions. +Would you kindly inform her, as exactly as possible, just what you +propose to do with her son?" + +The poor lady fixed her eyes appealingly on Rowland's face +and seemed to say that Mr. Striker had spoken her desire, +though she herself would have expressed it less defiantly. +But Rowland saw in Mr. Striker's many-wrinkled light blue eye, +shrewd at once and good-natured, that he had no intention of defiance, +and that he was simply pompous and conceited and sarcastically +compassionate of any view of things in which Roderick Hudson +was regarded in a serious light. + +"Do, my dear madam?" demanded Rowland. "I don't propose to do anything. +He must do for himself. I simply offer him the chance. He 's to study, +to work--hard, I hope." + +"Not too hard, please," murmured Mrs. Hudson, pleadingly, +wheeling about from recent visions of dangerous leisure. +"He 's not very strong, and I 'm afraid the climate of Europe +is very relaxing." + +"Ah, study?" repeated Mr. Striker. "To what line of study is he to direct +his attention?" Then suddenly, with an impulse of disinterested curiosity +on his own account, "How do you study sculpture, anyhow?" + +"By looking at models and imitating them." + +"At models, eh? To what kind of models do you refer?" + +"To the antique, in the first place." + +"Ah, the antique," repeated Mr. Striker, with a jocose intonation. +"Do you hear, madam? Roderick is going off to Europe to learn +to imitate the antique." + +"I suppose it 's all right," said Mrs. Hudson, twisting herself +in a sort of delicate anguish. + +"An antique, as I understand it," the lawyer continued, +"is an image of a pagan deity, with considerable dirt +sticking to it, and no arms, no nose, and no clothing. +A precious model, certainly!" + +"That 's a very good description of many," said Rowland, +with a laugh. + +"Mercy! Truly?" asked Mrs. Hudson, borrowing courage from his urbanity. + +"But a sculptor's studies, you intimate, are not confined to the antique," +Mr. Striker resumed. "After he has been looking three or four years +at the objects I describe"-- + +"He studies the living model," said Rowland. + +"Does it take three or four years?" asked Mrs. Hudson, imploringly. + +"That depends upon the artist's aptitude. After twenty years +a real artist is still studying." + +"Oh, my poor boy!" moaned Mrs. Hudson, finding the prospect, +under every light, still terrible. + +"Now this study of the living model," Mr. Striker pursued. +"Inform Mrs. Hudson about that." + +"Oh dear, no!" cried Mrs. Hudson, shrinkingly. + +"That too," said Rowland, "is one of the reasons for studying in Rome. +It 's a handsome race, you know, and you find very well-made people." + +"I suppose they 're no better made than a good tough Yankee," +objected Mr. Striker, transposing his interminable legs. +"The same God made us." + +"Surely," sighed Mrs. Hudson, but with a questioning glance at her +visitor which showed that she had already begun to concede much +weight to his opinion. Rowland hastened to express his assent +to Mr. Striker's proposition. + +Miss Garland looked up, and, after a moment's hesitation: +"Are the Roman women very beautiful?" she asked. + +Rowland too, in answering, hesitated; he was looking straight +at the young girl. "On the whole, I prefer ours," he said. + +She had dropped her work in her lap; her hands were crossed +upon it, her head thrown a little back. She had evidently +expected a more impersonal answer, and she was dissatisfied. +For an instant she seemed inclined to make a rejoinder, +but she slowly picked up her work in silence and drew +her stitches again. + +Rowland had for the second time the feeling that she judged him +to be a person of a disagreeably sophisticated tone. He noticed +too that the kitchen towel she was hemming was terribly coarse. +And yet his answer had a resonant inward echo, and he repeated +to himself, "Yes, on the whole, I prefer ours." + +"Well, these models," began Mr. Striker. "You put them into +an attitude, I suppose." + +"An attitude, exactly." + +"And then you sit down and look at them." + +"You must not sit too long. You must go at your clay and try +to build up something that looks like them." + +"Well, there you are with your model in an attitude on +one side, yourself, in an attitude too, I suppose, on the other, +and your pile of clay in the middle, building up, as you say. +So you pass the morning. After that I hope you go out and take +a walk, and rest from your exertions." + +"Unquestionably. But to a sculptor who loves his work there is no time lost. +Everything he looks at teaches or suggests something." + +"That 's a tempting doctrine to young men with a taste for sitting +by the hour with the page unturned, watching the flies buzz, +or the frost melt on the window-pane. Our young friend, in this way, +must have laid up stores of information which I never suspected!" + +"Very likely," said Rowland, with an unresentful smile, "he will prove +some day the completer artist for some of those lazy reveries." + +This theory was apparently very grateful to Mrs. Hudson, who had +never had the case put for her son with such ingenious hopefulness, +and found herself disrelishing the singular situation of seeming +to side against her own flesh and blood with a lawyer whose +conversational tone betrayed the habit of cross-questioning. + +"My son, then," she ventured to ask, "my son has great-- +what you would call great powers?" + +"To my sense, very great powers." + +Poor Mrs. Hudson actually smiled, broadly, gleefully, and glanced +at Miss Garland, as if to invite her to do likewise. +But the young girl's face remained serious, like the eastern +sky when the opposite sunset is too feeble to make it glow. +"Do you really know?" she asked, looking at Rowland. + +"One cannot know in such a matter save after proof, and proof takes time. +But one can believe." + +"And you believe?" + +"I believe." + +But even then Miss Garland vouchsafed no smile. +Her face became graver than ever. + +"Well, well," said Mrs. Hudson, "we must hope that it is all for the best." + +Mr. Striker eyed his old friend for a moment with a look of +some displeasure; he saw that this was but a cunning feminine +imitation of resignation, and that, through some untraceable process +of transition, she was now taking more comfort in the opinions +of this insinuating stranger than in his own tough dogmas. +He rose to his feet, without pulling down his waistcoat, +but with a wrinkled grin at the inconsistency of women. +"Well, sir, Mr. Roderick's powers are nothing to me," he said, +"nor no use he makes of them. Good or bad, he 's no son of mine. +But, in a friendly way, I 'm glad to hear so fine an account of him. +I 'm glad, madam, you 're so satisfied with the prospect. +Affection, sir, you see, must have its guarantees!" +He paused a moment, stroking his beard, with his head +inclined and one eye half-closed, looking at Rowland. +The look was grotesque, but it was significant, and it +puzzled Rowland more than it amused him. "I suppose you 're +a very brilliant young man," he went on, "very enlightened, +very cultivated, quite up to the mark in the fine arts +and all that sort of thing. I 'm a plain, practical old boy, +content to follow an honorable profession in a free country. +I did n't go off to the Old World to learn my business; +no one took me by the hand; I had to grease my wheels myself, +and, such as I am, I 'm a self-made man, every inch of me! +Well, if our young friend is booked for fame and fortune, +I don't suppose his going to Rome will stop him. +But, mind you, it won't help him such a long way, either. +If you have undertaken to put him through, there 's a thing +or two you 'd better remember. The crop we gather depends upon +the seed we sow. He may be the biggest genius of the age: +his potatoes won't come up without his hoeing them. +If he takes things so almighty easy as--well, as one or two +young fellows of genius I 've had under my eye--his produce +will never gain the prize. Take the word for it of a man who has +made his way inch by inch, and does n't believe that we 'll +wake up to find our work done because we 've lain all night +a-dreaming of it; anything worth doing is devilish hard to do! +If your young protajay finds things easy and has a good time +and says he likes the life, it 's a sign that--as I may say-- +you had better step round to the office and look at the books. +That 's all I desire to remark. No offense intended. +I hope you 'll have a first-rate time." + +Rowland could honestly reply that this seemed pregnant sense, +and he offered Mr. Striker a friendly hand-shake as the latter withdrew. +But Mr. Striker's rather grim view of matters cast a momentary shadow +on his companions, and Mrs. Hudson seemed to feel that it necessitated +between them some little friendly agreement not to be overawed. + +Rowland sat for some time longer, partly because he wished to please +the two women and partly because he was strangely pleased himself. +There was something touching in their unworldly fears and diffident hopes, +something almost terrible in the way poor little Mrs. Hudson +seemed to flutter and quiver with intense maternal passion. +She put forth one timid conversational venture after another, +and asked Rowland a number of questions about himself, his age, +his family, his occupations, his tastes, his religious opinions. +Rowland had an odd feeling at last that she had begun to consider him +very exemplary, and that she might make, later, some perturbing discovery. +He tried, therefore, to invent something that would prepare +her to find him fallible. But he could think of nothing. +It only seemed to him that Miss Garland secretly mistrusted him, +and that he must leave her to render him the service, after he +had gone, of making him the object of a little firm derogation. +Mrs. Hudson talked with low-voiced eagerness about her son. + +"He 's very lovable, sir, I assure you. When you come to know him +you 'll find him very lovable. He 's a little spoiled, of course; +he has always done with me as he pleased; but he 's a good boy, +I 'm sure he 's a good boy. And every one thinks him very attractive: +I 'm sure he 'd be noticed, anywhere. Don't you think +he 's very handsome, sir? He features his poor father. +I had another--perhaps you 've been told. He was killed." +And the poor little lady bravely smiled, for fear of doing worse. +"He was a very fine boy, but very different from Roderick. +Roderick is a little strange; he has never been an easy boy. +Sometimes I feel like the goose--was n't it a goose, dear?" +and startled by the audacity of her comparison she appealed to Miss +Garland--"the goose, or the hen, who hatched a swan's egg. +I have never been able to give him what he needs. I have always +thought that in more--in more brilliant circumstances he might +find his place and be happy. But at the same time I was afraid +of the world for him; it was so large and dangerous and dreadful. +No doubt I know very little about it. I never suspected, I confess, +that it contained persons of such liberality as yours." + +Rowland replied that, evidently, she had done the world but scanty justice. +"No," objected Miss Garland, after a pause, "it is like something +in a fairy tale." + +"What, pray?" + +"Your coming here all unknown, so rich and so polite, and carrying +off my cousin in a golden cloud." + +If this was badinage Miss Garland had the best of it, for Rowland almost +fell a-musing silently over the question whether there was a possibility +of irony in that transparent gaze. Before he withdrew, Mrs. Hudson +made him tell her again that Roderick's powers were extraordinary. +He had inspired her with a clinging, caressing faith in his wisdom. +"He will really do great things," she asked, "the very greatest?" + +"I see no reason in his talent itself why he should not." + +"Well, we 'll think of that as we sit here alone," she rejoined. +"Mary and I will sit here and talk about it. So I give him up," +she went on, as he was going. "I 'm sure you 'll be the best +of friends to him, but if you should ever forget him, or grow +tired of him, or lose your interest in him, and he should come +to any harm or any trouble, please, sir, remember"--And she paused, +with a tremulous voice. + +"Remember, my dear madam?" + +"That he is all I have--that he is everything--and that it would +be very terrible." + +"In so far as I can help him, he shall succeed," was all Rowland could say. +He turned to Miss Garland, to bid her good night, and she rose and put +out her hand. She was very straightforward, but he could see that if +she was too modest to be bold, she was much too simple to be shy. +"Have you no charge to lay upon me?" he asked--to ask her something. + +She looked at him a moment and then, although she was not shy, she blushed. +"Make him do his best," she said. + +Rowland noted the soft intensity with which the words were uttered. +"Do you take a great interest in him?" he demanded. + +"Certainly." + +"Then, if he will not do his best for you, he will not do it for me." +She turned away with another blush, and Rowland took his leave. + +He walked homeward, thinking of many things. The great Northampton +elms interarched far above in the darkness, but the moon had +risen and through scattered apertures was hanging the dusky +vault with silver lamps. There seemed to Rowland something +intensely serious in the scene in which he had just taken part. +He had laughed and talked and braved it out in self-defense; +but when he reflected that he was really meddling with +the simple stillness of this little New England home, +and that he had ventured to disturb so much living security +in the interest of a far-away, fantastic hypothesis, he paused, +amazed at his temerity. It was true, as Cecilia had said, +that for an unofficious man it was a singular position. +There stirred in his mind an odd feeling of annoyance with +Roderick for having thus peremptorily enlisted his sympathies. +As he looked up and down the long vista, and saw the clear +white houses glancing here and there in the broken moonshine, +he could almost have believed that the happiest lot for any man +was to make the most of life in some such tranquil spot as that. +Here were kindness, comfort, safety, the warning voice of duty, +the perfect hush of temptation. And as Rowland looked along +the arch of silvered shadow and out into the lucid air of the +American night, which seemed so doubly vast, somehow, and strange +and nocturnal, he felt like declaring that here was beauty too-- +beauty sufficient for an artist not to starve upon it. +As he stood, lost in the darkness, he presently heard a rapid tread +on the other side of the road, accompanied by a loud, jubilant whistle, +and in a moment a figure emerged into an open gap of moonshine. +He had no difficulty in recognizing Hudson, who was presumably +returning from a visit to Cecilia. Roderick stopped suddenly +and stared up at the moon, with his face vividly illumined. +He broke out into a snatch of song:-- + +"The splendor falls on castle walls + +And snowy summits old in story!" + +And with a great, musical roll of his voice he went swinging off +into the darkness again, as if his thoughts had lent him wings. +He was dreaming of the inspiration of foreign lands,--of castled crags +and historic landscapes. What a pity, after all, thought Rowland, +as he went his own way, that he should n't have a taste of it! + +It had been a very just remark of Cecilia's that Roderick would change +with a change in his circumstances. Rowland had telegraphed to New York +for another berth on his steamer, and from the hour the answer came Hudson's +spirits rose to incalculable heights. He was radiant with good-humor, +and his kindly jollity seemed the pledge of a brilliant future. +He had forgiven his old enemies and forgotten his old grievances, +and seemed every way reconciled to a world in which he was going to count +as an active force. He was inexhaustibly loquacious and fantastic, +and as Cecilia said, he had suddenly become so good that it was only +to be feared he was going to start not for Europe but for heaven. +He took long walks with Rowland, who felt more and more the fascination +of what he would have called his giftedness. Rowland returned several +times to Mrs. Hudson's, and found the two ladies doing their best +to be happy in their companion's happiness. Miss Garland, he thought, +was succeeding better than her demeanor on his first visit had promised. +He tried to have some especial talk with her, but her extreme reserve +forced him to content himself with such response to his rather urgent +overtures as might be extracted from a keenly attentive smile. +It must be confessed, however, that if the response was vague, +the satisfaction was great, and that Rowland, after his second visit, +kept seeing a lurking reflection of this smile in the most unexpected places. +It seemed strange that she should please him so well at so slender +a cost, but please him she did, prodigiously, and his pleasure +had a quality altogether new to him. It made him restless, and a +trifle melancholy; he walked about absently, wondering and wishing. +He wondered, among other things, why fate should have condemned him +to make the acquaintance of a girl whom he would make a sacrifice +to know better, just as he was leaving the country for years. +It seemed to him that he was turning his back on a chance of happiness-- +happiness of a sort of which the slenderest germ should be cultivated. +He asked himself whether, feeling as he did, if he had only himself +to please, he would give up his journey and--wait. He had Roderick +to please now, for whom disappointment would be cruel; but he said +to himself that certainly, if there were no Roderick in the case, +the ship should sail without him. He asked Hudson several questions +about his cousin, but Roderick, confidential on most points, +seemed to have reasons of his own for being reticent on this one. +His measured answers quickened Rowland's curiosity, for Miss Garland, +with her own irritating half-suggestions, had only to be a subject +of guarded allusion in others to become intolerably interesting. +He learned from Roderick that she was the daughter of a country minister, +a far-away cousin of his mother, settled in another part of the State; +that she was one of a half-a-dozen daughters, that the family was +very poor, and that she had come a couple of months before to pay +his mother a long visit. "It is to be a very long one now," he said, +"for it is settled that she is to remain while I am away." + +The fermentation of contentment in Roderick's soul reached its climax +a few days before the young men were to make their farewells. +He had been sitting with his friends on Cecilia's veranda, +but for half an hour past he had said nothing. Lounging back against +a vine-wreathed column and gazing idly at the stars, he kept caroling +softly to himself with that indifference to ceremony for which he always +found allowance, and which in him had a sort of pleading grace. +At last, springing up: "I want to strike out, hard!" he exclaimed. +"I want to do something violent, to let off steam!" + +"I 'll tell you what to do, this lovely weather," said Cecilia. +"Give a picnic. It can be as violent as you please, and it will +have the merit of leading off our emotion into a safe channel, +as well as yours." + +Roderick laughed uproariously at Cecilia's very practical +remedy for his sentimental need, but a couple of days later, +nevertheless, the picnic was given. It was to be a family party, +but Roderick, in his magnanimous geniality, insisted on inviting +Mr. Striker, a decision which Rowland mentally applauded. +"And we 'll have Mrs. Striker, too," he said, "if she 'll come, +to keep my mother in countenance; and at any rate we 'll have +Miss Striker--the divine Petronilla!" The young lady thus +denominated formed, with Mrs. Hudson, Miss Garland, and Cecilia, +the feminine half of the company. Mr. Striker presented himself, +sacrificing a morning's work, with a magnanimity greater +even than Roderick's, and foreign support was further secured +in the person of Mr. Whitefoot, the young Orthodox minister. +Roderick had chosen the feasting-place; he knew it well and had +passed many a summer afternoon there, lying at his length on +the grass and gazing at the blue undulations of the horizon. +It was a meadow on the edge of a wood, with mossy rocks protruding +through the grass and a little lake on the other side. +It was a cloudless August day; Rowland always remembered it, +and the scene, and everything that was said and done, +with extraordinary distinctness. Roderick surpassed himself +in friendly jollity, and at one moment, when exhilaration +was at the highest, was seen in Mr. Striker's high white hat, +drinking champagne from a broken tea-cup to Mr. Striker's health. +Miss Striker had her father's pale blue eye; she was dressed as if +she were going to sit for her photograph, and remained for a long +time with Roderick on a little promontory overhanging the lake. +Mrs. Hudson sat all day with a little meek, apprehensive smile. +She was afraid of an "accident," though unless Miss Striker +(who indeed was a little of a romp) should push Roderick +into the lake, it was hard to see what accident could occur. +Mrs. Hudson was as neat and crisp and uncrumpled at the end +of the festival as at the beginning. Mr. Whitefoot, +who but a twelvemonth later became a convert to episcopacy +and was already cultivating a certain conversational sonority, +devoted himself to Cecilia. He had a little book in his pocket, +out of which he read to her at intervals, lying stretched at her feet, +and it was a lasting joke with Cecilia, afterwards, that she +would never tell what Mr. Whitefoot's little book had been. +Rowland had placed himself near Miss Garland, while the feasting +went forward on the grass. She wore a so-called gypsy hat-- +a little straw hat, tied down over her ears, so as to cast +her eyes into shadow, by a ribbon passing outside of it. +When the company dispersed, after lunch, he proposed to her +to take a stroll in the wood. She hesitated a moment and looked +toward Mrs. Hudson, as if for permission to leave her. +But Mrs. Hudson was listening to Mr. Striker, who sat gossiping +to her with relaxed magniloquence, his waistcoat unbuttoned +and his hat on his nose. + +"You can give your cousin your society at any time," said Rowland. +"But me, perhaps, you 'll never see again." + +"Why then should we wish to be friends, if nothing is to come of it?" +she asked, with homely logic. But by this time she had consented, +and they were treading the fallen pine-needles. + +"Oh, one must take all one can get," said Rowland. +"If we can be friends for half an hour, it 's so much gained." + +"Do you expect never to come back to Northampton again?" + +" 'Never' is a good deal to say. But I go to Europe for a long stay." + +"Do you prefer it so much to your own country?" + +"I will not say that. But I have the misfortune to be a rather idle man, +and in Europe the burden of idleness is less heavy than here." + +She was silent for a few minutes; then at last, +"In that, then, we are better than Europe," she said. +To a certain point Rowland agreed with her, but he demurred, +to make her say more. + +"Would n't it be better," she asked, "to work to get reconciled to America, +than to go to Europe to get reconciled to idleness?" + +"Doubtless; but you know work is hard to find." + +"I come from a little place where every one has plenty," +said Miss Garland. "We all work; every one I know works. +And really," she added presently, "I look at you with curiosity; +you are the first unoccupied man I ever saw." + +"Don't look at me too hard," said Rowland, smiling. "I shall sink +into the earth. What is the name of your little place?" + +"West Nazareth," said Miss Garland, with her usual sobriety. +"It is not so very little, though it 's smaller than Northampton." + +"I wonder whether I could find any work at West Nazareth," Rowland said. + +"You would not like it," Miss Garland declared reflectively. +"Though there are far finer woods there than this. +We have miles and miles of woods." + +"I might chop down trees," said Rowland. "That is, if you allow it." + +"Allow it? Why, where should we get our firewood?" +Then, noticing that he had spoken jestingly, she glanced at +him askance, though with no visible diminution of her gravity. +"Don't you know how to do anything? Have you no profession?" + +Rowland shook his head. "Absolutely none." + +"What do you do all day?" + +"Nothing worth relating. That 's why I am going to Europe. +There, at least, if I do nothing, I shall see a great deal; +and if I 'm not a producer, I shall at any rate be an observer." + +"Can't we observe everywhere?" + +"Certainly; and I really think that in that way I make the most of +my opportunities. Though I confess," he continued, "that I often remember +there are things to be seen here to which I probably have n't done justice. +I should like, for instance, to see West Nazareth." + +She looked round at him, open-eyed; not, apparently, that she +exactly supposed he was jesting, for the expression +of such a desire was not necessarily facetious; +but as if he must have spoken with an ulterior motive. +In fact, he had spoken from the simplest of motives. +The girl beside him pleased him unspeakably, and, suspecting that +her charm was essentially her own and not reflected from +social circumstance, he wished to give himself the satisfaction +of contrasting her with the meagre influences of her education. +Miss Garland's second movement was to take him at his word. +"Since you are free to do as you please, why don't you go there?" + +"I am not free to do as I please now. I have offered your cousin +to bear him company to Europe, he has accepted with enthusiasm, +and I cannot retract." + +"Are you going to Europe simply for his sake?" + +Rowland hesitated a moment. "I think I may almost say so." + +Miss Garland walked along in silence. "Do you mean to do a great deal +for him?" she asked at last. + +"What I can. But my power of helping him is very small beside +his power of helping himself." + +For a moment she was silent again. "You are very generous," +she said, almost solemnly. + +"No, I am simply very shrewd. Roderick will repay me. +It 's an investment. At first, I think," he added shortly +afterwards, "you would not have paid me that compliment. +You distrusted me." + +She made no attempt to deny it. "I did n't see why you should wish to make +Roderick discontented. I thought you were rather frivolous." + +"You did me injustice. I don't think I 'm that." + +"It was because you are unlike other men--those, at least, +whom I have seen." + +"In what way?" + +"Why, as you describe yourself. You have no duties, no profession, no home. +You live for your pleasure." + +"That 's all very true. And yet I maintain I 'm not frivolous." + +"I hope not," said Miss Garland, simply. They had reached a point +where the wood-path forked and put forth two divergent tracks +which lost themselves in a verdurous tangle. Miss Garland seemed +to think that the difficulty of choice between them was a reason +for giving them up and turning back. Rowland thought otherwise, +and detected agreeable grounds for preference in the left-hand path. +As a compromise, they sat down on a fallen log. Looking about him, +Rowland espied a curious wild shrub, with a spotted crimson leaf; +he went and plucked a spray of it and brought it to Miss Garland. +He had never observed it before, but she immediately called it +by its name. She expressed surprise at his not knowing it; +it was extremely common. He presently brought her a specimen +of another delicate plant, with a little blue-streaked flower. +"I suppose that 's common, too," he said, "but I have never seen it-- +or noticed it, at least." She answered that this one was rare, +and meditated a moment before she could remember its name. +At last she recalled it, and expressed surprise at his having found +the plant in the woods; she supposed it grew only in open marshes. +Rowland complimented her on her fund of useful information. + +"It 's not especially useful," she answered; "but I like to +know the names of plants as I do those of my acquaintances. +When we walk in the woods at home--which we do so much-- +it seems as unnatural not to know what to call the flowers +as it would be to see some one in the town with whom we were +not on speaking terms." + +"Apropos of frivolity," Rowland said, "I 'm sure you have very little of it, +unless at West Nazareth it is considered frivolous to walk in the woods +and nod to the nodding flowers. Do kindly tell me a little about yourself." +And to compel her to begin, "I know you come of a race of theologians," +he went on. + +"No," she replied, deliberating; "they are not theologians, though they +are ministers. We don't take a very firm stand upon doctrine; +we are practical, rather. We write sermons and preach them, +but we do a great deal of hard work beside." + +"And of this hard work what has your share been?" + +"The hardest part: doing nothing." + +"What do you call nothing?" + +"I taught school a while: I must make the most of that. +But I confess I did n't like it. Otherwise, I have only done +little things at home, as they turned up." + +"What kind of things?" + +"Oh, every kind. If you had seen my home, you would understand." + +Rowland would have liked to make her specify; but he felt a more +urgent need to respect her simplicity than he had ever felt to defer +to the complex circumstance of certain other women. "To be happy, +I imagine," he contented himself with saying, "you need to be occupied. +You need to have something to expend yourself upon." + +"That is not so true as it once was; now that I am older, I am sure +I am less impatient of leisure. Certainly, these two months that I +have been with Mrs. Hudson, I have had a terrible amount of it. +And yet I have liked it! And now that I am probably to be with her +all the while that her son is away, I look forward to more with a +resignation that I don't quite know what to make of." + +"It is settled, then, that you are to remain with your cousin?" + +"It depends upon their writing from home that I may stay. +But that is probable. Only I must not forget," she said, rising, +"that the ground for my doing so is that she be not left alone." + +"I am glad to know," said Rowland, "that I shall probably often +hear about you. I assure you I shall often think about you!" +These words were half impulsive, half deliberate. +They were the simple truth, and he had asked himself why he should +not tell her the truth. And yet they were not all of it; +her hearing the rest would depend upon the way she received this. +She received it not only, as Rowland foresaw, without a shadow +of coquetry, of any apparent thought of listening to it gracefully, +but with a slight movement of nervous deprecation, +which seemed to betray itself in the quickening of her step. +Evidently, if Rowland was to take pleasure in hearing about her, +it would have to be a highly disinterested pleasure. +She answered nothing, and Rowland too, as he walked beside her, +was silent; but as he looked along the shadow-woven wood-path, what +he was really facing was a level three years of disinterestedness. +He ushered them in by talking composed civility until he had +brought Miss Garland back to her companions. + +He saw her but once again. He was obliged to be in New York a couple +of days before sailing, and it was arranged that Roderick should +overtake him at the last moment. The evening before he left Northampton +he went to say farewell to Mrs. Hudson. The ceremony was brief. +Rowland soon perceived that the poor little lady was in the melting +mood, and, as he dreaded her tears, he compressed a multitude +of solemn promises into a silent hand-shake and took his leave. +Miss Garland, she had told him, was in the back-garden with Roderick: +he might go out to them. He did so, and as he drew near he heard +Roderick's high-pitched voice ringing behind the shrubbery. +In a moment, emerging, he found Miss Garland leaning against +a tree, with her cousin before her talking with great emphasis. +He asked pardon for interrupting them, and said he wished only to bid +her good-by. She gave him her hand and he made her his bow in silence. +"Don't forget," he said to Roderick, as he turned away. +"And don't, in this company, repent of your bargain." + +"I shall not let him," said Miss Garland, with something very +like gayety. "I shall see that he is punctual. He must go! +I owe you an apology for having doubted that he ought to." +And in spite of the dusk Rowland could see that she had an even +finer smile than he had supposed. + +Roderick was punctual, eagerly punctual, and they went. +Rowland for several days was occupied with material cares, +and lost sight of his sentimental perplexities. +But they only slumbered, and they were sharply awakened. +The weather was fine, and the two young men always sat together +upon deck late into the evening. One night, toward the last, +they were at the stern of the great ship, watching her grind +the solid blackness of the ocean into phosphorescent foam. +They talked on these occasions of everything conceivable, +and had the air of having no secrets from each other. +But it was on Roderick's conscience that this air belied him, +and he was too frank by nature, moreover, for permanent +reticence on any point. + +"I must tell you something," he said at last. "I should like you to know it, +and you will be so glad to know it. Besides, it 's only a question +of time; three months hence, probably, you would have guessed it. +I am engaged to Mary Garland." + +Rowland sat staring; though the sea was calm, it seemed to him +that the ship gave a great dizzying lurch. But in a moment +he contrived to answer coherently: "Engaged to Miss Garland! +I never supposed--I never imagined"-- + +"That I was in love with her?" Roderick interrupted. +"Neither did I, until this last fortnight. But you came and put +me into such ridiculous good-humor that I felt an extraordinary +desire to tell some woman that I adored her. Miss Garland is +a magnificent girl; you know her too little to do her justice. +I have been quietly learning to know her, these past three months, +and have been falling in love with her without being conscious of it. +It appeared, when I spoke to her, that she had a kindness for me. +So the thing was settled. I must of course make some money +before we can marry. It 's rather droll, certainly, to engage +one's self to a girl whom one is going to leave the next day, +for years. We shall be condemned, for some time to come, +to do a terrible deal of abstract thinking about each other. +But I wanted her blessing on my career and I could not help +asking for it. Unless a man is unnaturally selfish he needs +to work for some one else than himself, and I am sure I shall +run a smoother and swifter course for knowing that that fine +creature is waiting, at Northampton, for news of my greatness. +If ever I am a dull companion and over-addicted to moping, +remember in justice to me that I am in love and that my sweetheart +is five thousand miles away." + +Rowland listened to all this with a sort of feeling +that fortune had played him an elaborately-devised trick. +It had lured him out into mid-ocean and smoothed the sea and +stilled the winds and given him a singularly sympathetic comrade, +and then it had turned and delivered him a thumping blow +in mid-chest. "Yes," he said, after an attempt at the usual +formal congratulation, "you certainly ought to do better-- +with Miss Garland waiting for you at Northampton." + +Roderick, now that he had broken ground, was eloquent and rung +a hundred changes on the assurance that he was a very happy man. +Then at last, suddenly, his climax was a yawn, and he declared that +he must go to bed. Rowland let him go alone, and sat there late, +between sea and sky. + + + + + +CHAPTER III. Rome + +One warm, still day, late in the Roman autumn, our two young men were +sitting beneath one of the high-stemmed pines of the Villa Ludovisi. +They had been spending an hour in the mouldy little garden-house, where +the colossal mask of the famous Juno looks out with blank eyes from that +dusky corner which must seem to her the last possible stage of a lapse +from Olympus. Then they had wandered out into the gardens, and were +lounging away the morning under the spell of their magical picturesqueness. +Roderick declared that he would go nowhere else; that, after the Juno, +it was a profanation to look at anything but sky and trees. +There was a fresco of Guercino, to which Rowland, though he had seen +it on his former visit to Rome, went dutifully to pay his respects. +But Roderick, though he had never seen it, declared that it could n't +be worth a fig, and that he did n't care to look at ugly things. +He remained stretched on his overcoat, which he had spread on the grass, +while Rowland went off envying the intellectual comfort of genius, +which can arrive at serene conclusions without disagreeable processes. +When the latter came back, his friend was sitting with his elbows on his +knees and his head in his hands. Rowland, in the geniality of a mood +attuned to the mellow charm of a Roman villa, found a good word to say +for the Guercino; but he chiefly talked of the view from the little +belvedere on the roof of the casino, and how it looked like the prospect +from a castle turret in a fairy tale. + +"Very likely," said Roderick, throwing himself back with a yawn. +"But I must let it pass. I have seen enough for the present; +I have reached the top of the hill. I have an indigestion +of impressions; I must work them off before I go in for any more. +I don't want to look at any more of other people's works, for a month-- +not even at Nature's own. I want to look at Roderick Hudson's. +The result of it all is that I 'm not afraid. I can but try, +as well as the rest of them! The fellow who did that gazing goddess +yonder only made an experiment. The other day, when I was looking +at Michael Angelo's Moses, I was seized with a kind of defiance-- +a reaction against all this mere passive enjoyment of grandeur. +It was a rousing great success, certainly, that rose there before me, +but somehow it was not an inscrutable mystery, and it seemed to me, +not perhaps that I should some day do as well, but that at +least I might!" + +"As you say, you can but try," said Rowland. "Success is +only passionate effort." + +"Well, the passion is blazing; we have been piling on fuel handsomely. +It came over me just now that it is exactly three months to a day since I +left Northampton. I can't believe it!" + +"It certainly seems more." + +"It seems like ten years. What an exquisite ass I was!" + +"Do you feel so wise now?" + +"Verily! Don't I look so? Surely I have n't the same face. +Have n't I a different eye, a different expression, +a different voice?" + +"I can hardly say, because I have seen the transition. +But it 's very likely. You are, in the literal sense of the word, +more civilized. I dare say," added Rowland, "that Miss Garland +would think so." + +"That 's not what she would call it; she would say I was corrupted." + +Rowland asked few questions about Miss Garland, but he always +listened narrowly to his companion's voluntary observations. + +"Are you very sure?" he replied. + +"Why, she 's a stern moralist, and she would infer from +my appearance that I had become a cynical sybarite." +Roderick had, in fact, a Venetian watch-chain round his +neck and a magnificent Roman intaglio on the third finger +of his left hand. + +"Will you think I take a liberty," asked Rowland, "if I say you +judge her superficially?" + +"For heaven's sake," cried Roderick, laughing, "don't tell me +she 's not a moralist! It was for that I fell in love with her, +and with rigid virtue in her person." + +"She is a moralist, but not, as you imply, a narrow one. +That 's more than a difference in degree; it 's a difference in kind. +I don't know whether I ever mentioned it, but I admire her extremely. +There is nothing narrow about her but her experience; everything else +is large. My impression of her is of a person of great capacity, +as yet wholly unmeasured and untested. Some day or other, I 'm sure, +she will judge fairly and wisely of everything." + +"Stay a bit!" cried Roderick; "you 're a better Catholic than the Pope. +I shall be content if she judges fairly of me--of my merits, that is. +The rest she must not judge at all. She 's a grimly devoted little creature; +may she always remain so! Changed as I am, I adore her none the less. +What becomes of all our emotions, our impressions," he went on, +after a long pause, "all the material of thought that life pours +into us at such a rate during such a memorable three months as these? +There are twenty moments a week--a day, for that matter, some days-- +that seem supreme, twenty impressions that seem ultimate, +that appear to form an intellectual era. But others come treading +on their heels and sweeping them along, and they all melt like water +into water and settle the question of precedence among themselves. +The curious thing is that the more the mind takes in, the more it has +space for, and that all one's ideas are like the Irish people at home +who live in the different corners of a room, and take boarders." + +"I fancy it is our peculiar good luck that we don't see the limits +of our minds," said Rowland. "We are young, compared with what we may +one day be. That belongs to youth; it is perhaps the best part of it. +They say that old people do find themselves at last face to face +with a solid blank wall, and stand thumping against it in vain. +It resounds, it seems to have something beyond it, but it won't move! +That 's only a reason for living with open doors as long as we can!" + +"Open doors?" murmured Roderick. "Yes, let us close no doors +that open upon Rome. For this, for the mind, is eternal summer! +But though my doors may stand open to-day," he presently added, +"I shall see no visitors. I want to pause and breathe; I want +to dream of a statue. I have been working hard for three months; +I have earned a right to a reverie." + +Rowland, on his side, was not without provision for reflection, +and they lingered on in broken, desultory talk. Rowland felt +the need for intellectual rest, for a truce to present care +for churches, statues, and pictures, on even better grounds than +his companion, inasmuch as he had really been living Roderick's +intellectual life the past three months, as well as his own. +As he looked back on these full-flavored weeks, he drew a long +breath of satisfaction, almost of relief. Roderick, thus far, +had justified his confidence and flattered his perspicacity; +he was rapidly unfolding into an ideal brilliancy. +He was changed even more than he himself suspected; +he had stepped, without faltering, into his birthright, +and was spending money, intellectually, as lavishly +as a young heir who has just won an obstructive lawsuit. +Roderick's glance and voice were the same, doubtless, +as when they enlivened the summer dusk on Cecilia's veranda, +but in his person, generally, there was an indefinable +expression of experience rapidly and easily assimilated. +Rowland had been struck at the outset with the instinctive +quickness of his observation and his free appropriation of +whatever might serve his purpose. He had not been, for instance, +half an hour on English soil before he perceived that he was +dressed like a rustic, and he had immediately reformed his +toilet with the most unerring tact. His appetite for novelty +was insatiable, and for everything characteristically foreign, +as it presented itself, he had an extravagant greeting; +but in half an hour the novelty had faded, he had guessed +the secret, he had plucked out the heart of the mystery and +was clamoring for a keener sensation. At the end of a month, +he presented, mentally, a puzzling spectacle to his companion. +He had caught, instinctively, the key-note of the old world. +He observed and enjoyed, he criticised and rhapsodized, +but though all things interested him and many delighted him, +none surprised him; he had divined their logic and measured +their proportions, and referred them infallibly to their categories. +Witnessing the rate at which he did intellectual execution +on the general spectacle of European life, Rowland at moments +felt vaguely uneasy for the future; the boy was living +too fast, he would have said, and giving alarming pledges +to ennui in his later years. But we must live as our pulses +are timed, and Roderick's struck the hour very often. +He was, by imagination, though he never became in manner, +a natural man of the world; he had intuitively, as an artist, +what one may call the historic consciousness. He had a relish +for social subtleties and mysteries, and, in perception, +when occasion offered him an inch he never failed to take an ell. +A single glimpse of a social situation of the elder type enabled +him to construct the whole, with all its complex chiaroscuro, +and Rowland more than once assured him that he made him +believe in the metempsychosis, and that he must have lived in +European society, in the last century, as a gentleman in a cocked +hat and brocaded waistcoat. Hudson asked Rowland questions +which poor Rowland was quite unable to answer, and of which he was +equally unable to conceive where he had picked up the data. +Roderick ended by answering them himself, tolerably to +his satisfaction, and in a short time he had almost turned +the tables and become in their walks and talks the accredited +source of information. Rowland told him that when he turned +sculptor a capital novelist was spoiled, and that to match his +eye for social detail one would have to go to Honore de Balzac. +In all this Rowland took a generous pleasure; he felt an especial +kindness for his comrade's radiant youthfulness of temperament. +He was so much younger than he himself had ever been! +And surely youth and genius, hand in hand, were the most +beautiful sight in the world. Roderick added to this +the charm of his more immediately personal qualities. +The vivacity of his perceptions, the audacity of his imagination, +the picturesqueness of his phrase when he was pleased,-- +and even more when he was displeased,--his abounding good-humor, +his candor, his unclouded frankness, his unfailing impulse +to share every emotion and impression with his friend; +all this made comradeship a pure felicity, and interfused +with a deeper amenity their long evening talks at cafe doors +in Italian towns. + +They had gone almost immediately to Paris, and had spent +their days at the Louvre and their evenings at the theatre. +Roderick was divided in mind as to whether Titian or Mademoiselle +Delaporte was the greater artist. They had come down through +France to Genoa and Milan, had spent a fortnight in Venice +and another in Florence, and had now been a month in Rome. +Roderick had said that he meant to spend three months in simply +looking, absorbing, and reflecting, without putting pencil to paper. +He looked indefatigably, and certainly saw great things-- +things greater, doubtless, at times, than the intentions of +the artist. And yet he made few false steps and wasted little +time in theories of what he ought to like and to dislike. +He judged instinctively and passionately, but never vulgarly. +At Venice, for a couple of days, he had half a fit of +melancholy over the pretended discovery that he had missed +his way, and that the only proper vestment of plastic +conceptions was the coloring of Titian and Paul Veronese. +Then one morning the two young men had themselves rowed out +to Torcello, and Roderick lay back for a couple of hours watching +a brown-breasted gondolier making superb muscular movements, +in high relief, against the sky of the Adriatic, and at the end +jerked himself up with a violence that nearly swamped the gondola, +and declared that the only thing worth living for was to make +a colossal bronze and set it aloft in the light of a public square. +In Rome his first care was for the Vatican; he went there again +and again. But the old imperial and papal city altogether +delighted him; only there he really found what he had been looking +for from the first--the complete antipodes of Northampton. +And indeed Rome is the natural home of those spirits with which we +just now claimed fellowship for Roderick--the spirits with a deep +relish for the artificial element in life and the infinite +superpositions of history. It is the immemorial city of convention. +The stagnant Roman air is charged with convention; +it colors the yellow light and deepens the chilly shadows. +And in that still recent day the most impressive convention +in all history was visible to men's eyes, in the Roman streets, +erect in a gilded coach drawn by four black horses. +Roderick's first fortnight was a high aesthetic revel. +He declared that Rome made him feel and understand more things +than he could express: he was sure that life must have there, +for all one's senses, an incomparable fineness; that more +interesting things must happen to one than anywhere else. +And he gave Rowland to understand that he meant to live freely +and largely, and be as interested as occasion demanded. +Rowland saw no reason to regard this as a menace of dissipation, +because, in the first place, there was in all dissipation, +refine it as one might, a grossness which would disqualify +it for Roderick's favor, and because, in the second, +the young sculptor was a man to regard all things in the light +of his art, to hand over his passions to his genius to be +dealt with, and to find that he could live largely enough +without exceeding the circle of wholesome curiosity. +Rowland took immense satisfaction in his companion's deep +impatience to make something of all his impressions. +Some of these indeed found their way into a channel which did +not lead to statues, but it was none the less a safe one. +He wrote frequent long letters to Miss Garland; +when Rowland went with him to post them he thought wistfully +of the fortune of the great loosely-written missives, +which cost Roderick unconscionable sums in postage. +He received punctual answers of a more frugal form, +written in a clear, minute hand, on paper vexatiously thin. +If Rowland was present when they came, he turned away and +thought of other things--or tried to. These were the only +moments when his sympathy halted, and they were brief. +For the rest he let the days go by unprotestingly, and enjoyed +Roderick's serene efflorescence as he would have done a beautiful +summer sunrise. Rome, for the past month, had been delicious. +The annual descent of the Goths had not yet begun, and sunny +leisure seemed to brood over the city. + +Roderick had taken out a note-book and was roughly sketching a memento +of the great Juno. Suddenly there was a noise on the gravel, +and the young men, looking up, saw three persons advancing. +One was a woman of middle age, with a rather grand air +and a great many furbelows. She looked very hard at our +friends as she passed, and glanced back over her shoulder, +as if to hasten the step of a young girl who slowly followed her. +She had such an expansive majesty of mien that Rowland supposed +she must have some proprietary right in the villa and was not +just then in a hospitable mood. Beside her walked a little +elderly man, tightly buttoned in a shabby black coat, but with +a flower in his lappet, and a pair of soiled light gloves. +He was a grotesque-looking personage, and might have passed +for a gentleman of the old school, reduced by adversity to playing +cicerone to foreigners of distinction. He had a little black +eye which glittered like a diamond and rolled about like a ball +of quicksilver, and a white moustache, cut short and stiff, +like a worn-out brush. He was smiling with extreme urbanity, +and talking in a low, mellifluous voice to the lady, who evidently +was not listening to him. At a considerable distance behind +this couple strolled a young girl, apparently of about twenty. +She was tall and slender, and dressed with extreme elegance; +she led by a cord a large poodle of the most fantastic aspect. +He was combed and decked like a ram for sacrifice; +his trunk and haunches were of the most transparent pink, +his fleecy head and shoulders as white as jeweler's cotton, +and his tail and ears ornamented with long blue ribbons. +He stepped along stiffly and solemnly beside his mistress, +with an air of conscious elegance. There was something at first +slightly ridiculous in the sight of a young lady gravely appended +to an animal of these incongruous attributes, and Roderick, with his +customary frankness, greeted the spectacle with a confident smile. +The young girl perceived it and turned her face full upon him, +with a gaze intended apparently to enforce greater deference. +It was not deference, however, her face provoked, but startled, +submissive admiration; Roderick's smile fell dead, and he sat +eagerly staring. A pair of extraordinary dark blue eyes, a mass +of dusky hair over a low forehead, a blooming oval of perfect purity, +a flexible lip, just touched with disdain, the step and carriage +of a tired princess--these were the general features of his vision. +The young lady was walking slowly and letting her long dress +rustle over the gravel; the young men had time to see her +distinctly before she averted her face and went her way. +She left a vague, sweet perfume behind her as she passed. + +"Immortal powers!" cried Roderick, "what a vision! In the name +of transcendent perfection, who is she?" He sprang up and stood +looking after her until she rounded a turn in the avenue. +"What a movement, what a manner, what a poise of the head! +I wonder if she would sit to me." + +"You had better go and ask her," said Rowland, laughing. +"She is certainly most beautiful." + +"Beautiful? She 's beauty itself--she 's a revelation. +I don't believe she is living--she 's a phantasm, +a vapor, an illusion!" + +"The poodle," said Rowland, "is certainly alive." + +"Nay, he too may be a grotesque phantom, like the black dog in Faust." + +"I hope at least that the young lady has nothing in common +with Mephistopheles. She looked dangerous." + +"If beauty is immoral, as people think at Northampton," +said Roderick, "she is the incarnation of evil. The mamma and +the queer old gentleman, moreover, are a pledge of her reality. +Who are they all?" + +"The Prince and Princess Ludovisi and the principessina," suggested Rowland. + +"There are no such people," said Roderick. "Besides, the little +old man is not the papa." Rowland smiled, wondering how he had +ascertained these facts, and the young sculptor went on. +"The old man is a Roman, a hanger-on of the mamma, +a useful personage who now and then gets asked to dinner. +The ladies are foreigners, from some Northern country; +I won't say which." + +"Perhaps from the State of Maine," said Rowland. + +"No, she 's not an American, I 'll lay a wager on that. +She 's a daughter of this elder world. We shall see her again, +I pray my stars; but if we don't, I shall have done something I +never expected to--I shall have had a glimpse of ideal beauty." +He sat down again and went on with his sketch of the Juno, scrawled away +for ten minutes, and then handed the result in silence to Rowland. +Rowland uttered an exclamation of surprise and applause. +The drawing represented the Juno as to the position of the head, +the brow, and the broad fillet across the hair; but the eyes, +the mouth, the physiognomy were a vivid portrait of the young girl +with the poodle. "I have been wanting a subject," said Roderick: +"there 's one made to my hand! And now for work!" + +They saw no more of the young girl, though Roderick looked hopefully, +for some days, into the carriages on the Pincian. She had evidently been +but passing through Rome; Naples or Florence now happily possessed her, +and she was guiding her fleecy companion through the Villa Reale +or the Boboli Gardens with the same superb defiance of irony. +Roderick went to work and spent a month shut up in his studio; +he had an idea, and he was not to rest till he had embodied it. +He had established himself in the basement of a huge, dusky, +dilapidated old house, in that long, tortuous, and preeminently Roman +street which leads from the Corso to the Bridge of St. Angelo. +The black archway which admitted you might have served as the portal +of the Augean stables, but you emerged presently upon a mouldy +little court, of which the fourth side was formed by a narrow terrace, +overhanging the Tiber. Here, along the parapet, were stationed half +a dozen shapeless fragments of sculpture, with a couple of meagre +orange-trees in terra-cotta tubs, and an oleander that never flowered. +The unclean, historic river swept beneath; behind were dusky, reeking walls, +spotted here and there with hanging rags and flower-pots in windows; +opposite, at a distance, were the bare brown banks of the stream, +the huge rotunda of St. Angelo, tipped with its seraphic statue, +the dome of St. Peter's, and the broad-topped pines of the Villa Doria. +The place was crumbling and shabby and melancholy, but the river +was delightful, the rent was a trifle, and everything was picturesque. +Roderick was in the best humor with his quarters from the first, +and was certain that the working mood there would be intenser in an hour +than in twenty years of Northampton. His studio was a huge, empty room +with a vaulted ceiling, covered with vague, dark traces of an old fresco, +which Rowland, when he spent an hour with his friend, used to stare at vainly +for some surviving coherence of floating draperies and clasping arms. +Roderick had lodged himself economically in the same quarter. +He occupied a fifth floor on the Ripetta, but he was only at home to sleep, +for when he was not at work he was either lounging in Rowland's more +luxurious rooms or strolling through streets and churches and gardens. + +Rowland had found a convenient corner in a stately old palace +not far from the Fountain of Trevi, and made himself a home +to which books and pictures and prints and odds and ends +of curious furniture gave an air of leisurely permanence. +He had the tastes of a collector; he spent half his afternoons +ransacking the dusty magazines of the curiosity-mongers, +and often made his way, in quest of a prize, into the heart +of impecunious Roman households, which had been prevailed upon +to listen--with closed doors and an impenetrably wary smile-- +to proposals for an hereditary "antique." In the evening, +often, under the lamp, amid dropped curtains and the scattered +gleam of firelight upon polished carvings and mellow paintings, +the two friends sat with their heads together, criticising intaglios +and etchings, water-color drawings and illuminated missals. +Roderick's quick appreciation of every form of artistic +beauty reminded his companion of the flexible temperament +of those Italian artists of the sixteenth century who were +indifferently painters and sculptors, sonneteers and engravers. +At times when he saw how the young sculptor's day passed +in a single sustained pulsation, while his own was broken +into a dozen conscious devices for disposing of the hours, +and intermingled with sighs, half suppressed, some of them, +for conscience' sake, over what he failed of in action and missed +in possession--he felt a pang of something akin to envy. +But Rowland had two substantial aids for giving patience +the air of contentment: he was an inquisitive reader and a +passionate rider. He plunged into bulky German octavos on +Italian history, and he spent long afternoons in the saddle, +ranging over the grassy desolation of the Campagna. +As the season went on and the social groups began to +constitute themselves, he found that he knew a great many +people and that he had easy opportunity for knowing others. +He enjoyed a quiet corner of a drawing-room beside an agreeable woman, +and although the machinery of what calls itself society seemed +to him to have many superfluous wheels, he accepted invitations +and made visits punctiliously, from the conviction that the only +way not to be overcome by the ridiculous side of most of +such observances is to take them with exaggerated gravity. +He introduced Roderick right and left, and suffered him to make +his way himself--an enterprise for which Roderick very soon +displayed an all-sufficient capacity. Wherever he went he made, +not exactly what is called a favorable impression, but what, +from a practical point of view, is better--a puzzling one. +He took to evening parties as a duck to water, and before the winter +was half over was the most freely and frequently discussed young +man in the heterogeneous foreign colony. Rowland's theory +of his own duty was to let him run his course and play his cards, +only holding himself ready to point out shoals and pitfalls, +and administer a friendly propulsion through tight places. +Roderick's manners on the precincts of the Pincian were +quite the same as his manners on Cecilia's veranda: +that is, they were no manners at all. But it remained +as true as before that it would have been impossible, +on the whole, to violate ceremony with less of lasting offense. +He interrupted, he contradicted, he spoke to people +he had never seen, and left his social creditors without +the smallest conversational interest on their loans; +he lounged and yawned, he talked loud when he should have +talked low, and low when he should have talked loud. +Many people, in consequence, thought him insufferably conceited, +and declared that he ought to wait till he had something to show +for his powers, before he assumed the airs of a spoiled celebrity. +But to Rowland and to most friendly observers this judgment +was quite beside the mark, and the young man's undiluted +naturalness was its own justification. He was impulsive, +spontaneous, sincere; there were so many people at dinner-tables +and in studios who were not, that it seemed worth while to +allow this rare specimen all possible freedom of action. +If Roderick took the words out of your mouth when you were +just prepared to deliver them with the most effective accent, +he did it with a perfect good conscience and with no pretension +of a better right to being heard, but simply because he was full +to overflowing of his own momentary thought and it sprang from +his lips without asking leave. There were persons who waited +on your periods much more deferentially, who were a hundred +times more capable than Roderick of a reflective impertinence. +Roderick received from various sources, chiefly feminine, +enough finely-adjusted advice to have established him in life +as an embodiment of the proprieties, and he received it, +as he afterwards listened to criticisms on his statues, +with unfaltering candor and good-humor. Here and there, +doubtless, as he went, he took in a reef in his sail; +but he was too adventurous a spirit to be successfully tamed, +and he remained at most points the florid, rather strident +young Virginian whose serene inflexibility had been the despair +of Mr. Striker. All this was what friendly commentators +(still chiefly feminine) alluded to when they spoke of his +delightful freshness, and critics of harsher sensibilities +(of the other sex) when they denounced his damned impertinence. +His appearance enforced these impressions--his handsome face, +his radiant, unaverted eyes, his childish, unmodulated voice. +Afterwards, when those who loved him were in tears, there was +something in all this unspotted comeliness that seemed to lend +a mockery to the causes of their sorrow. + +Certainly, among the young men of genius who, for so +many ages, have gone up to Rome to test their powers, +none ever made a fairer beginning than Roderick. +He rode his two horses at once with extraordinary good fortune; +he established the happiest modus vivendi betwixt work and play. +He wrestled all day with a mountain of clay in his studio, +and chattered half the night away in Roman drawing-rooms. +It all seemed part of a kind of divine facility. +He was passionately interested, he was feeling his powers; +now that they had thoroughly kindled in the glowing aesthetic +atmosphere of Rome, the ardent young fellow should be pardoned +for believing that he never was to see the end of them. +He enjoyed immeasurably, after the chronic obstruction of home, +the downright act of production. He kept models in his studio +till they dropped with fatigue; he drew, on other days, +at the Capitol and the Vatican, till his own head swam +with his eagerness, and his limbs stiffened with the cold. +He had promptly set up a life-sized figure which he called +an "Adam," and was pushing it rapidly toward completion. +There were naturally a great many wiseheads who smiled +at his precipitancy, and cited him as one more example of +Yankee crudity, a capital recruit to the great army of those +who wish to dance before they can walk. They were right, +but Roderick was right too, for the success of his statue was not +to have been foreseen; it partook, really, of the miraculous. +He never surpassed it afterwards, and a good judge here and there +has been known to pronounce it the finest piece of sculpture +of our modern era. To Rowland it seemed to justify superbly +his highest hopes of his friend, and he said to himself +that if he had invested his happiness in fostering a genius, +he ought now to be in possession of a boundless complacency. +There was something especially confident and masterly in the +artist's negligence of all such small picturesque accessories +as might serve to label his figure to a vulgar apprehension. +If it represented the father of the human race and the primal +embodiment of human sensation, it did so in virtue +of its look of balanced physical perfection, and deeply, +eagerly sentient vitality. Rowland, in fraternal zeal, traveled up +to Carrara and selected at the quarries the most magnificent +block of marble he could find, and when it came down to Rome, +the two young men had a "celebration." They drove out to Albano, +breakfasted boisterously (in their respective measure) at the inn, +and lounged away the day in the sun on the top of Monte Cavo. +Roderick's head was full of ideas for other works, +which he described with infinite spirit and eloquence, +as vividly as if they were ranged on their pedestals before him. +He had an indefatigable fancy; things he saw in the streets, +in the country, things he heard and read, effects he saw just +missed or half-expressed in the works of others, acted upon his +mind as a kind of challenge, and he was terribly restless until, +in some form or other, he had taken up the glove and set his +lance in rest. + +The Adam was put into marble, and all the world came to see it. +Of the criticisms passed upon it this history undertakes to offer no record; +over many of them the two young men had a daily laugh for a month, +and certain of the formulas of the connoisseurs, restrictive or indulgent, +furnished Roderick with a permanent supply of humorous catch-words. +But people enough spoke flattering good-sense to make Roderick feel +as if he were already half famous. The statue passed formally into +Rowland's possession, and was paid for as if an illustrious name had been +chiseled on the pedestal. Poor Roderick owed every franc of the money. +It was not for this, however, but because he was so gloriously in +the mood, that, denying himself all breathing-time, on the same day +he had given the last touch to the Adam, he began to shape the rough +contour of an Eve. This went forward with equal rapidity and success. +Roderick lost his temper, time and again, with his models, who offered +but a gross, degenerate image of his splendid ideal; but his ideal, +as he assured Rowland, became gradually such a fixed, vivid presence, +that he had only to shut his eyes to behold a creature far more to his +purpose than the poor girl who stood posturing at forty sous an hour. +The Eve was finished in a month, and the feat was extraordinary, +as well as the statue, which represented an admirably beautiful woman. +When the spring began to muffle the rugged old city with its +clambering festoons, it seemed to him that he had done a handsome +winter's work and had fairly earned a holiday. He took a liberal one, +and lounged away the lovely Roman May, doing nothing. He looked +very contented; with himself, perhaps, at times, a trifle too obviously. +But who could have said without good reason? He was "flushed +with triumph;" this classic phrase portrayed him, to Rowland's sense. +He would lose himself in long reveries, and emerge from them with a +quickened smile and a heightened color. Rowland grudged him none +of his smiles, and took an extreme satisfaction in his two statues. +He had the Adam and the Eve transported to his own apartment, and one +warm evening in May he gave a little dinner in honor of the artist. +It was small, but Rowland had meant it should be very agreeably composed. +He thought over his friends and chose four. They were all persons +with whom he lived in a certain intimacy. + +One of them was an American sculptor of French extraction, +or remotely, perhaps, of Italian, for he rejoiced in the somewhat +fervid name of Gloriani. He was a man of forty, he had been +living for years in Paris and in Rome, and he now drove a very +pretty trade in sculpture of the ornamental and fantastic sort. +In his youth he had had money; but he had spent it recklessly, +much of it scandalously, and at twenty-six had found himself obliged +to make capital of his talent. This was quite inimitable, and fifteen +years of indefatigable exercise had brought it to perfection. +Rowland admitted its power, though it gave him very little pleasure; +what he relished in the man was the extraordinary vivacity +and frankness, not to call it the impudence, of his ideas. +He had a definite, practical scheme of art, and he knew at least +what he meant. In this sense he was solid and complete. +There were so many of the aesthetic fraternity who were floundering +in unknown seas, without a notion of which way their noses were turned, +that Gloriani, conscious and compact, unlimitedly intelligent +and consummately clever, dogmatic only as to his own duties, +and at once gracefully deferential and profoundly indifferent +to those of others, had for Rowland a certain intellectual +refreshment quite independent of the character of his works. +These were considered by most people to belong to a very corrupt, +and by many to a positively indecent school. Others thought them +tremendously knowing, and paid enormous prices for them; and indeed, +to be able to point to one of Gloriani's figures in a shady corner +of your library was tolerable proof that you were not a fool. +Corrupt things they certainly were; in the line of sculpture they +were quite the latest fruit of time. It was the artist's opinion +that there is no essential difference between beauty and ugliness; +that they overlap and intermingle in a quite inextricable manner; +that there is no saying where one begins and the other ends; +that hideousness grimaces at you suddenly from out of the very bosom +of loveliness, and beauty blooms before your eyes in the lap of vileness; +that it is a waste of wit to nurse metaphysical distinctions, +and a sadly meagre entertainment to caress imaginary lines; +that the thing to aim at is the expressive, and the way to reach +it is by ingenuity; that for this purpose everything may serve, +and that a consummate work is a sort of hotch-potch of the pure +and the impure, the graceful and the grotesque. Its prime duty is +to amuse, to puzzle, to fascinate, to savor of a complex imagination. +Gloriani's statues were florid and meretricious; they looked +like magnified goldsmith's work. They were extremely elegant, +but they had no charm for Rowland. He never bought one, +but Gloriani was such an honest fellow, and withal was so deluged +with orders, that this made no difference in their friendship. +The artist might have passed for a Frenchman. He was a great talker, +and a very picturesque one; he was almost bald; he had a small, +bright eye, a broken nose, and a moustache with waxed ends. +When sometimes he received you at his lodging, he introduced +you to a lady with a plain face whom he called Madame Gloriani-- +which she was not. + +Rowland's second guest was also an artist, but of a very different type. +His friends called him Sam Singleton; he was an American, and he had +been in Rome a couple of years. He painted small landscapes, +chiefly in water-colors: Rowland had seen one of them in a shop window, +had liked it extremely, and, ascertaining his address, had gone +to see him and found him established in a very humble studio near +the Piazza Barberini, where, apparently, fame and fortune had not +yet found him out. Rowland took a fancy to him and bought several +of his pictures; Singleton made few speeches, but was grateful. +Rowland heard afterwards that when he first came to Rome he painted +worthless daubs and gave no promise of talent. Improvement had come, +however, hand in hand with patient industry, and his talent, +though of a slender and delicate order, was now incontestable. +It was as yet but scantily recognized, and he had hard work to live. +Rowland hung his little water-colors on the parlor wall, and found that, +as he lived with them, he grew very fond of them. Singleton was +a diminutive, dwarfish personage; he looked like a precocious child. +He had a high, protuberant forehead, a transparent brown eye, +a perpetual smile, an extraordinary expression of modesty and patience. +He listened much more willingly than he talked, with a little fixed, +grateful grin; he blushed when he spoke, and always offered his ideas +in a sidelong fashion, as if the presumption were against them. +His modesty set them off, and they were eminently to the point. +He was so perfect an example of the little noiseless, +laborious artist whom chance, in the person of a moneyed patron, +has never taken by the hand, that Rowland would have liked to befriend +him by stealth. Singleton had expressed a fervent admiration +for Roderick's productions, but had not yet met the young master. +Roderick was lounging against the chimney-piece when he came in, +and Rowland presently introduced him. The little water-colorist +stood with folded hands, blushing, smiling, and looking up at him +as if Roderick were himself a statue on a pedestal. Singleton began +to murmur something about his pleasure, his admiration; the desire +to make his compliment smoothly gave him a kind of grotesque formalism. +Roderick looked down at him surprised, and suddenly burst into a laugh. +Singleton paused a moment and then, with an intenser smile, went on: +"Well, sir, your statues are beautiful, all the same!" + +Rowland's two other guests were ladies, and one of them, +Miss Blanchard, belonged also to the artistic fraternity. +She was an American, she was young, she was pretty, +and she had made her way to Rome alone and unaided. +She lived alone, or with no other duenna than a bushy-browed +old serving-woman, though indeed she had a friendly +neighbor in the person of a certain Madame Grandoni, +who in various social emergencies lent her a protecting wing, +and had come with her to Rowland's dinner. Miss Blanchard had +a little money, but she was not above selling her pictures. +These represented generally a bunch of dew-sprinkled roses, +with the dew-drops very highly finished, or else a wayside shrine, +and a peasant woman, with her back turned, kneeling before it. +She did backs very well, but she was a little weak in faces. +Flowers, however, were her speciality, and though her touch +was a little old-fashioned and finical, she painted them with +remarkable skill. Her pictures were chiefly bought by the English. +Rowland had made her acquaintance early in the winter, and as she +kept a saddle horse and rode a great deal, he had asked permission +to be her cavalier. In this way they had become almost intimate. +Miss Blanchard's name was Augusta; she was slender, pale, +and elegant looking; she had a very pretty head and brilliant +auburn hair, which she braided with classical simplicity. +She talked in a sweet, soft voice, used language at times +a trifle superfine, and made literary allusions. These had +often a patriotic strain, and Rowland had more than once been +irritated by her quotations from Mrs. Sigourney in the cork-woods +of Monte Mario, and from Mr. Willis among the ruins of Veii. +Rowland was of a dozen different minds about her, and was +half surprised, at times, to find himself treating it +as a matter of serious moment whether he liked her or not. +He admired her, and indeed there was something admirable in her +combination of beauty and talent, of isolation and tranquil +self-support. He used sometimes to go into the little, +high-niched, ordinary room which served her as a studio, and find +her working at a panel six inches square, at an open casement, +profiled against the deep blue Roman sky. She received him +with a meek-eyed dignity that made her seem like a painted saint +on a church window, receiving the daylight in all her being. +The breath of reproach passed her by with folded wings. +And yet Rowland wondered why he did not like her better. +If he failed, the reason was not far to seek. There was +another woman whom he liked better, an image in his heart +which refused to yield precedence. + +On that evening to which allusion has been made, when Rowland +was left alone between the starlight and the waves with the sudden +knowledge that Mary Garland was to become another man's wife, +he had made, after a while, the simple resolution to forget her. +And every day since, like a famous philosopher who wished +to abbreviate his mourning for a faithful servant, he had said +to himself in substance--"Remember to forget Mary Garland." +Sometimes it seemed as if he were succeeding; then, suddenly, +when he was least expecting it, he would find her name, inaudibly, +on his lips, and seem to see her eyes meeting his eyes. All this +made him uncomfortable, and seemed to portend a possible discord. +Discord was not to his taste; he shrank from imperious passions, +and the idea of finding himself jealous of an unsuspecting +friend was absolutely repulsive. More than ever, then, the path +of duty was to forget Mary Garland, and he cultivated oblivion, +as we may say, in the person of Miss Blanchard. +Her fine temper, he said to himself, was a trifle cold +and conscious, her purity prudish, perhaps, her culture pedantic. +But since he was obliged to give up hopes of Mary Garland, +Providence owed him a compensation, and he had fits of angry sadness +in which it seemed to him that to attest his right to sentimental +satisfaction he would be capable of falling in love with a woman +he absolutely detested, if she were the best that came in his way. +And what was the use, after all, of bothering about a possible +which was only, perhaps, a dream? Even if Mary Garland had been free, +what right had he to assume that he would have pleased her? +The actual was good enough. Miss Blanchard had beautiful hair, +and if she was a trifle old-maidish, there is nothing like matrimony +for curing old-maidishness. + +Madame Grandoni, who had formed with the companion of Rowland's +rides an alliance which might have been called defensive on +the part of the former and attractive on that of Miss Blanchard, +was an excessively ugly old lady, highly esteemed in Roman society +for her homely benevolence and her shrewd and humorous good sense. +She had been the widow of a German archaeologist, who had come to Rome in +the early ages as an attache of the Prussian legation on the Capitoline. +Her good sense had been wanting on but a single occasion, +that of her second marriage. This occasion was certainly a +momentous one, but these, by common consent, are not test cases. +A couple of years after her first husband's death, she had accepted +the hand and the name of a Neapolitan music-master, ten years +younger than herself, and with no fortune but his fiddle-bow. The +marriage was most unhappy, and the Maestro Grandoni was suspected +of using the fiddle-bow as an instrument of conjugal correction. +He had finally run off with a prima donna assoluta, who, it was to +be hoped, had given him a taste of the quality implied in her title. +He was believed to be living still, but he had shrunk to a small +black spot in Madame Grandoni's life, and for ten years she had not +mentioned his name. She wore a light flaxen wig, which was never very +artfully adjusted, but this mattered little, as she made no secret of it. +She used to say, "I was not always so ugly as this; as a young +girl I had beautiful golden hair, very much the color of my wig." +She had worn from time immemorial an old blue satin dress, +and a white crape shawl embroidered in colors; her appearance +was ridiculous, but she had an interminable Teutonic pedigree, +and her manners, in every presence, were easy and jovial, as became +a lady whose ancestor had been cup-bearer to Frederick Barbarossa. +Thirty years' observation of Roman society had sharpened her wits +and given her an inexhaustible store of anecdotes, but she had beneath +her crumpled bodice a deep-welling fund of Teutonic sentiment, +which she communicated only to the objects of her particular favor. +Rowland had a great regard for her, and she repaid it by wishing +him to get married. She never saw him without whispering to him +that Augusta Blanchard was just the girl. + +It seemed to Rowland a sort of foreshadowing of matrimony to see Miss +Blanchard standing gracefully on his hearth-rug and blooming behind +the central bouquet at his circular dinner-table. The dinner was very +prosperous and Roderick amply filled his position as hero of the feast. +He had always an air of buoyant enjoyment in his work, but on this +occasion he manifested a good deal of harmless pleasure in his glory. +He drank freely and talked bravely; he leaned back in his chair with +his hands in his pockets, and flung open the gates of his eloquence. +Singleton sat gazing and listening open-mouthed, as if Apollo in person +were talking. Gloriani showed a twinkle in his eye and an evident +disposition to draw Roderick out. Rowland was rather regretful, +for he knew that theory was not his friend's strong point, and that it +was never fair to take his measure from his talk. + +"As you have begun with Adam and Eve," said Gloriani, +"I suppose you are going straight through the Bible." +He was one of the persons who thought Roderick delightfully fresh. + +"I may make a David," said Roderick, "but I shall not try +any more of the Old Testament people. I don't like the Jews; +I don't like pendulous noses. David, the boy David, is rather +an exception; you can think of him and treat him as a young Greek. +Standing forth there on the plain of battle between the contending armies, +rushing forward to let fly his stone, he looks like a beautiful runner +at the Olympic games. After that I shall skip to the New Testament. +I mean to make a Christ." + +"You 'll put nothing of the Olympic games into him, I hope," said Gloriani. + +"Oh, I shall make him very different from the Christ +of tradition; more--more"--and Roderick paused a moment to think. +This was the first that Rowland had heard of his Christ. + +"More rationalistic, I suppose," suggested Miss Blanchard. + +"More idealistic!" cried Roderick. "The perfection of form, +you know, to symbolize the perfection of spirit." + +"For a companion piece," said Miss Blanchard, "you ought to make a Judas." + +"Never! I mean never to make anything ugly. The Greeks never +made anything ugly, and I 'm a Hellenist; I 'm not a Hebraist! +I have been thinking lately of making a Cain, but I should never +dream of making him ugly. He should be a very handsome fellow, +and he should lift up the murderous club with the beautiful +movement of the fighters in the Greek friezes who are chopping +at their enemies." + +"There 's no use trying to be a Greek," said Gloriani. +"If Phidias were to come back, he would recommend you to give it up. +I am half Italian and half French, and, as a whole, a Yankee. +What sort of a Greek should I make? I think the Judas is a capital +idea for a statue. Much obliged to you, madame, for the suggestion. +What an insidious little scoundrel one might make of him, +sitting there nursing his money-bag and his treachery! +There can be a great deal of expression in a pendulous nose, +my dear sir, especially when it is cast in green bronze." + +"Very likely," said Roderick. "But it is not the sort of expression +I care for. I care only for perfect beauty. There it is, if you +want to know it! That 's as good a profession of faith as another. +In future, so far as my things are not positively beautiful, +you may set them down as failures. For me, it 's either +that or nothing. It 's against the taste of the day, I know; +we have really lost the faculty to understand beauty in the large, +ideal way. We stand like a race with shrunken muscles, +staring helplessly at the weights our forefathers easily lifted. +But I don't hesitate to proclaim it--I mean to lift them again! +I mean to go in for big things; that 's my notion of my art. +I mean to do things that will be simple and vast and infinite. +You 'll see if they won't be infinite! Excuse me if I brag a little; +all those Italian fellows in the Renaissance used to brag. +There was a sensation once common, I am sure, in the human breast-- +a kind of religious awe in the presence of a marble image newly +created and expressing the human type in superhuman purity. +When Phidias and Praxiteles had their statues of goddesses +unveiled in the temples of the ;aEgean, don't you suppose there +was a passionate beating of hearts, a thrill of mysterious terror? +I mean to bring it back; I mean to thrill the world again! +I mean to produce a Juno that will make you tremble, a Venus +that will make you swoon!" + +"So that when we come and see you," said Madame Grandoni, +"we must be sure and bring our smelling-bottles. And pray +have a few soft sofas conveniently placed." + +"Phidias and Praxiteles," Miss Blanchard remarked, "had the advantage +of believing in their goddesses. I insist on believing, for myself, +that the pagan mythology is not a fiction, and that Venus and Juno +and Apollo and Mercury used to come down in a cloud into this very city +of Rome where we sit talking nineteenth century English." + +"Nineteenth century nonsense, my dear!" cried Madame Grandoni. +"Mr. Hudson may be a new Phidias, but Venus and Juno-- +that 's you and I--arrived to-day in a very dirty cab; +and were cheated by the driver, too." + +"But, my dear fellow," objected Gloriani, "you don't mean to say +you are going to make over in cold blood those poor old exploded +Apollos and Hebes." + +"It won't matter what you call them," said Roderick. +"They shall be simply divine forms. They shall be Beauty; +they shall be Wisdom; they shall be Power; they shall be Genius; +they shall be Daring. That 's all the Greek divinities were." + +"That 's rather abstract, you know," said Miss Blanchard. + +"My dear fellow," cried Gloriani, "you 're delightfully young." + +"I hope you 'll not grow any older," said Singleton, +with a flush of sympathy across his large white forehead. +"You can do it if you try." + +"Then there are all the Forces and Mysteries and Elements of Nature," +Roderick went on. "I mean to do the Morning; I mean to do the Night! +I mean to do the Ocean and the Mountains; the Moon and the West Wind. +I mean to make a magnificent statue of America!" + +"America--the Mountains--the Moon!" said Gloriani. +"You 'll find it rather hard, I 'm afraid, to compress such +subjects into classic forms." + +"Oh, there 's a way," cried Roderick, "and I shall think it out. +My figures shall make no contortions, but they shall mean +a tremendous deal." + +"I 'm sure there are contortions enough in Michael Angelo," +said Madame Grandoni. "Perhaps you don't approve of him." + +"Oh, Michael Angelo was not me!" said Roderick, with sublimity. +There was a great laugh; but after all, Roderick had done +some fine things. + +Rowland had bidden one of the servants bring him a small +portfolio of prints, and had taken out a photograph of Roderick's +little statue of the youth drinking. It pleased him to see +his friend sitting there in radiant ardor, defending idealism +against so knowing an apostle of corruption as Gloriani, +and he wished to help the elder artist to be confuted. +He silently handed him the photograph. + +"Bless me!" cried Gloriani, "did he do this?" + +"Ages ago," said Roderick. + +Gloriani looked at the photograph a long time, with evident admiration. + +"It 's deucedly pretty," he said at last. "But, my dear young friend, +you can't keep this up." + +"I shall do better," said Roderick. + +"You will do worse! You will become weak. You will have to take +to violence, to contortions, to romanticism, in self-defense. This +sort of thing is like a man trying to lift himself up by the seat +of his trousers. He may stand on tiptoe, but he can't do more. +Here you stand on tiptoe, very gracefully, I admit; but you can't fly; +there 's no use trying." + +"My 'America' shall answer you!" said Roderick, shaking toward +him a tall glass of champagne and drinking it down. + +Singleton had taken the photograph and was poring over it with a little +murmur of delight. + +"Was this done in America?" he asked. + +"In a square white wooden house at Northampton, Massachusetts," +Roderick answered. + +"Dear old white wooden houses!" said Miss Blanchard. + +"If you could do as well as this there," said Singleton, blushing and smiling, +"one might say that really you had only to lose by coming to Rome." + +"Mallet is to blame for that," said Roderick. "But I am willing +to risk the loss." + +The photograph had been passed to Madame Grandoni. +"It reminds me," she said, "of the things a young man used +to do whom I knew years ago, when I first came to Rome. +He was a German, a pupil of Overbeck and a votary of spiritual art. +He used to wear a black velvet tunic and a very low shirt collar; +he had a neck like a sickly crane, and let his hair grow +down to his shoulders. His name was Herr Schafgans. +He never painted anything so profane as a man taking a drink, +but his figures were all of the simple and slender and angular +pattern, and nothing if not innocent--like this one of yours. +He would not have agreed with Gloriani any more than you. +He used to come and see me very often, and in those days I thought +his tunic and his long neck infallible symptoms of genius. +His talk was all of gilded aureoles and beatific visions; +he lived on weak wine and biscuits, and wore a lock +of Saint Somebody's hair in a little bag round his neck. +If he was not a Beato Angelico, it was not his own fault. +I hope with all my heart that Mr. Hudson will do the fine things +he talks about, but he must bear in mind the history of dear +Mr. Schafgans as a warning against high-flown pretensions. +One fine day this poor young man fell in love with a Roman model, +though she had never sat to him, I believe, for she was a buxom, +bold-faced, high-colored creature, and he painted none but pale, +sickly women. He offered to marry her, and she looked at him +from head to foot, gave a shrug, and consented. But he was ashamed +to set up his menage in Rome. They went to Naples, and there, +a couple of years afterwards, I saw him. The poor fellow was ruined. +His wife used to beat him, and he had taken to drinking. +He wore a ragged black coat, and he had a blotchy, red face. +Madame had turned washerwoman and used to make him go and fetch +the dirty linen. His talent had gone heaven knows where! +He was getting his living by painting views of Vesuvius +in eruption on the little boxes they sell at Sorrento." + +"Moral: don't fall in love with a buxom Roman model," said Roderick. +"I 'm much obliged to you for your story, but I don't mean to fall +in love with any one." + +Gloriani had possessed himself of the photograph again, and was +looking at it curiously. "It 's a happy bit of youth," he said. +"But you can't keep it up--you can't keep it up!" + +The two sculptors pursued their discussion after dinner, +in the drawing-room. Rowland left them to have it out in a corner, +where Roderick's Eve stood over them in the shaded lamplight, +in vague white beauty, like the guardian angel of the +young idealist. Singleton was listening to Madame Grandoni, +and Rowland took his place on the sofa, near Miss Blanchard. +They had a good deal of familiar, desultory talk. +Every now and then Madame Grandoni looked round at them. +Miss Blanchard at last asked Rowland certain questions about Roderick: +who he was, where he came from, whether it was true, +as she had heard, that Rowland had discovered him and brought +him out at his own expense. Rowland answered her questions; +to the last he gave a vague affirmative. Finally, after a pause, +looking at him, "You 're very generous," Miss Blanchard said. +The declaration was made with a certain richness of tone, +but it brought to Rowland's sense neither delight nor confusion. +He had heard the words before; he suddenly remembered the grave +sincerity with which Miss Garland had uttered them as he +strolled with her in the woods the day of Roderick's picnic. +They had pleased him then; now he asked Miss Blanchard whether +she would have some tea. + +When the two ladies withdrew, he attended them to their carriage. +Coming back to the drawing-room, he paused outside the open door; +he was struck by the group formed by the three men. They were standing +before Roderick's statue of Eve, and the young sculptor had lifted up +the lamp and was showing different parts of it to his companions. +He was talking ardently, and the lamplight covered his head and face. +Rowland stood looking on, for the group struck him with its +picturesque symbolism. Roderick, bearing the lamp and glowing +in its radiant circle, seemed the beautiful image of a genius which +combined sincerity with power. Gloriani, with his head on one side, +pulling his long moustache and looking keenly from half-closed +eyes at the lighted marble, represented art with a worldly motive, +skill unleavened by faith, the mere base maximum of cleverness. +Poor little Singleton, on the other side, with his hands behind him, +his head thrown back, and his eyes following devoutly the course of +Roderick's elucidation, might pass for an embodiment of aspiring candor, +with feeble wings to rise on. In all this, Roderick's was certainly +the beau role. + +Gloriani turned to Rowland as he came up, and pointed back +with his thumb to the statue, with a smile half sardonic, +half good-natured. "A pretty thing--a devilish pretty thing," +he said. "It 's as fresh as the foam in the milk-pail. He +can do it once, he can do it twice, he can do it at a stretch +half a dozen times. But--but" + +He was returning to his former refrain, but Rowland intercepted him. +"Oh, he will keep it up," he said, smiling, "I will answer for him." + +Gloriani was not encouraging, but Roderick had listened smiling. +He was floating unperturbed on the tide of his deep self-confidence. Now, +suddenly, however, he turned with a flash of irritation in his eye, +and demanded in a ringing voice, "In a word, then, you prophesy that I +am to fail?" + +Gloriani answered imperturbably, patting him kindly on the shoulder. +"My dear fellow, passion burns out, inspiration runs to seed. +Some fine day every artist finds himself sitting face to face +with his lump of clay, with his empty canvas, with his sheet +of blank paper, waiting in vain for the revelation to be made, +for the Muse to descend. He must learn to do without the Muse! +When the fickle jade forgets the way to your studio, don't waste +any time in tearing your hair and meditating on suicide. +Come round and see me, and I will show you how to console yourself." + +"If I break down," said Roderick, passionately, "I shall stay down. +If the Muse deserts me, she shall at least have her infidelity +on her conscience." + +"You have no business," Rowland said to Gloriani, "to talk lightly +of the Muse in this company. Mr. Singleton, too, has received +pledges from her which place her constancy beyond suspicion." +And he pointed out on the wall, near by, two small landscapes +by the modest water-colorist. + +The sculptor examined them with deference, and Singleton +himself began to laugh nervously; he was trembling +with hope that the great Gloriani would be pleased. +"Yes, these are fresh too," Gloriani said; "extraordinarily fresh! +How old are you?" + +"Twenty-six, sir," said Singleton. + +"For twenty-six they are famously fresh. They must have taken +you a long time; you work slowly." + +"Yes, unfortunately, I work very slowly. One of them took me six weeks, +the other two months." + +"Upon my word! The Muse pays you long visits." And Gloriani turned +and looked, from head to foot, at so unlikely an object of her favors. +Singleton smiled and began to wipe his forehead very hard. +"Oh, you!" said the sculptor; "you 'll keep it up!" + +A week after his dinner-party, Rowland went into Roderick's +studio and found him sitting before an unfinished piece of work, +with a hanging head and a heavy eye. He could have fancied +that the fatal hour foretold by Gloriani had struck. +Roderick rose with a sombre yawn and flung down his tools. +"It 's no use," he said, "I give it up!" + +"What is it?" + +"I have struck a shallow! I have been sailing bravely, but for the last day +or two my keel has been crunching the bottom." + +"A difficult place?" Rowland asked, with a sympathetic inflection, +looking vaguely at the roughly modeled figure. + +"Oh, it 's not the poor clay!" Roderick answered. +"The difficult place is here!" And he struck a blow on his heart. +"I don't know what 's the matter with me. Nothing comes; +all of a sudden I hate things. My old things look ugly; +everything looks stupid." + +Rowland was perplexed. He was in the situation of a man +who has been riding a blood horse at an even, elastic gallop, +and of a sudden feels him stumble and balk. As yet, +he reflected, he had seen nothing but the sunshine of genius; +he had forgotten that it has its storms. Of course it had! +And he felt a flood of comradeship rise in his heart which +would float them both safely through the worst weather. +"Why, you 're tired!" he said. "Of course you 're tired. +You have a right to be!" + +"Do you think I have a right to be?" Roderick asked, looking at him. + +"Unquestionably, after all you have done." + +"Well, then, right or wrong, I am tired. I certainly have done +a fair winter's work. I want a change." + +Rowland declared that it was certainly high time they +should be leaving Rome. They would go north and travel. +They would go to Switzerland, to Germany, to Holland, to England. +Roderick assented, his eye brightened, and Rowland talked +of a dozen things they might do. Roderick walked up and down; +he seemed to have something to say which he hesitated to bring out. +He hesitated so rarely that Rowland wondered, and at last +asked him what was on his mind. Roderick stopped before him, +frowning a little. + +"I have such unbounded faith in your good-will," he said, +"that I believe nothing I can say would offend you." + +"Try it," said Rowland. + +"Well, then, I think my journey will do me more good if I take it alone. +I need n't say I prefer your society to that of any man living. +For the last six months it has been everything to me. +But I have a perpetual feeling that you are expecting something of me, +that you are measuring my doings by a terrifically high standard. +You are watching me; I don't want to be watched. I want to go my own way; +to work when I choose and to loaf when I choose. It is not that I +don't know what I owe you; it is not that we are not friends. +It is simply that I want a taste of absolutely unrestricted freedom. +Therefore, I say, let us separate." + +Rowland shook him by the hand. "Willingly. Do as you desire, +I shall miss you, and I venture to believe you 'll pass +some lonely hours. But I have only one request to make: +that if you get into trouble of any kind whatever, you will +immediately let me know." + +They began their journey, however, together, and crossed the Alps side +by side, muffled in one rug, on the top of the St. Gothard coach. +Rowland was going to England to pay some promised visits; his companion +had no plan save to ramble through Switzerland and Germany as fancy +guided him. He had money, now, that would outlast the summer; +when it was spent he would come back to Rome and make another statue. +At a little mountain village by the way, Roderick declared that he would stop; +he would scramble about a little in the high places and doze in the shade +of the pine forests. The coach was changing horses; the two young men +walked along the village street, picking their way between dunghills, +breathing the light, cool air, and listening to the plash of the fountain +and the tinkle of cattle-bells. The coach overtook them, and then Rowland, +as he prepared to mount, felt an almost overmastering reluctance. + +"Say the word," he exclaimed, "and I will stop too." + +Roderick frowned. "Ah, you don't trust me; you don't think I 'm able +to take care of myself. That proves that I was right in feeling +as if I were watched!" + +"Watched, my dear fellow!" said Rowland. "I hope you may never have anything +worse to complain of than being watched in the spirit in which I watch you. +But I will spare you even that. Good-by!" Standing in his place, as the coach +rolled away, he looked back at his friend lingering by the roadside. +A great snow-mountain, behind Roderick, was beginning to turn pink +in the sunset. The young man waved his hat, still looking grave. +Rowland settled himself in his place, reflecting after all that this was +a salubrious beginning of independence. He was among forests and glaciers, +leaning on the pure bosom of nature. And then--and then--was it not in itself +a guarantee against folly to be engaged to Mary Garland? + + + + + + +CHAPTER IV. Experience + +Rowland passed the summer in England, staying with several +old friends and two or three new ones. On his arrival, +he felt it on his conscience to write to Mrs. Hudson and +inform her that her son had relieved him of his tutelage. +He felt that she considered him an incorruptible Mentor, +following Roderick like a shadow, and he wished to let her know +the truth. But he made the truth very comfortable, and gave +a succinct statement of the young man's brilliant beginnings. +He owed it to himself, he said, to remind her that he had +not judged lightly, and that Roderick's present achievements +were more profitable than his inglorious drudgery at Messrs. +Striker & Spooner's. He was now taking a well-earned +holiday and proposing to see a little of the world. +He would work none the worse for this; every artist +needed to knock about and look at things for himself. +They had parted company for a couple of months, for Roderick was +now a great man and beyond the need of going about with a keeper. +But they were to meet again in Rome in the autumn, +and then he should be able to send her more good news. +Meanwhile, he was very happy in what Roderick had already done-- +especially happy in the happiness it must have brought to her. +He ventured to ask to be kindly commended to Miss Garland. + +His letter was promptly answered--to his surprise in Miss Garland's +own hand. The same mail brought also an epistle from Cecilia. +The latter was voluminous, and we must content ourselves with +giving an extract. + +"Your letter was filled with an echo of that brilliant +Roman world, which made me almost ill with envy. For a week +after I got it I thought Northampton really unpardonably tame. +But I am drifting back again to my old deeps of resignation, +and I rush to the window, when any one passes, with all my old +gratitude for small favors. So Roderick Hudson is already +a great man, and you turn out to be a great prophet? +My compliments to both of you; I never heard of anything +working so smoothly. And he takes it all very quietly, +and does n't lose his balance nor let it turn his head? +You judged him, then, in a day better than I had done in six months, +for I really did not expect that he would settle down into such +a jog-trot of prosperity. I believed he would do fine things, +but I was sure he would intersperse them with a good +many follies, and that his beautiful statues would spring up +out of the midst of a straggling plantation of wild oats. +But from what you tell me, +Mr. Striker may now go hang himself..... There is one thing, +however, to say as a friend, in the way of warning. +That candid soul can keep a secret, and he may have private +designs on your equanimity which you don't begin to suspect. +What do you think of his being engaged to Miss Garland? +The two ladies had given no hint of it all winter, but a fortnight ago, +when those big photographs of his statues arrived, they first +pinned them up on the wall, and then trotted out into the town, +made a dozen calls, and announced the news. Mrs. Hudson did, +at least; Miss Garland, I suppose, sat at home writing letters. +To me, I confess, the thing was a perfect surprise. +I had not a suspicion that all the while he was coming so regularly +to make himself agreeable on my veranda, he was quietly preferring +his cousin to any one else. Not, indeed, that he was ever at +particular pains to make himself agreeable! I suppose he has +picked up a few graces in Rome. But he must not acquire too many: +if he is too polite when he comes back, Miss Garland will count +him as one of the lost. She will be a very good wife for a man +of genius, and such a one as they are often shrewd enough to take. +She 'll darn his stockings and keep his accounts, and sit at home +and trim the lamp and keep up the fire while he studies the Beautiful +in pretty neighbors at dinner-parties. The two ladies are evidently +very happy, and, to do them justice, very humbly grateful to you. +Mrs. Hudson never speaks of you without tears in her eyes, and I am +sure she considers you a specially patented agent of Providence. +Verily, it 's a good thing for a woman to be in love: +Miss Garland has grown almost pretty. I met her the other night +at a tea-party; she had a white rose in her hair, and sang +a sentimental ballad in a fine contralto voice." + +Miss Garland's letter was so much shorter that we may give it entire:-- + +My dear Sir,--Mrs. Hudson, as I suppose you know, has been +for some time unable to use her eyes. She requests me, +therefore, to answer your favor of the 22d of June. +She thanks you extremely for writing, and wishes me to say that she +considers herself in every way under great obligations to you. +Your account of her son's progress and the high estimation +in which he is held has made her very happy, and she earnestly +prays that all may continue well with him. He sent us, +a short time ago, several large photographs of his two statues, +taken from different points of view. We know little about +such things, but they seem to us wonderfully beautiful. +We sent them to Boston to be handsomely framed, and the man, +on returning them, wrote us that he had exhibited them for a week +in his store, and that they had attracted great attention. +The frames are magnificent, and the pictures now hang in a row +on the parlor wall. Our only quarrel with them is that they make +the old papering and the engravings look dreadfully shabby. +Mr. Striker stood and looked at them the other day full five minutes, +and said, at last, that if Roderick's head was running on such +things it was no wonder he could not learn to draw up a deed. +We lead here so quiet and monotonous a life that I am +afraid I can tell you nothing that will interest you. +Mrs. Hudson requests me to say that the little more or less +that may happen to us is of small account, as we live +in our thoughts and our thoughts are fixed on her dear son. +She thanks Heaven he has so good a friend. Mrs. Hudson says +that this is too short a letter, but I can say nothing more. + +Yours most respectfully, + +Mary Garland. + +It is a question whether the reader will know why, but this +letter gave Rowland extraordinary pleasure. He liked its very +brevity and meagreness, and there seemed to him an exquisite +modesty in its saying nothing from the young girl herself. +He delighted in the formal address and conclusion; +they pleased him as he had been pleased by an angular gesture +in some expressive girlish figure in an early painting. +The letter renewed that impression of strong feeling combined +with an almost rigid simplicity, which Roderick's betrothed had +personally given him. And its homely stiffness seemed a vivid +reflection of a life concentrated, as the young girl had borrowed +warrant from her companion to say, in a single devoted idea. +The monotonous days of the two women seemed to Rowland's fancy +to follow each other like the tick-tick of a great time-piece, +marking off the hours which separated them from the supreme +felicity of clasping the far-away son and lover to lips sealed +with the excess of joy. He hoped that Roderick, now that +he had shaken off the oppression of his own importunate faith, +was not losing a tolerant temper for the silent prayers +of the two women at Northampton. + +He was left to vain conjectures, however, as to Roderick's actual +moods and occupations. He knew he was no letter-writer, and that, +in the young sculptor's own phrase, he had at any time rather +build a monument than write a note. But when a month had passed +without news of him, he began to be half anxious and half angry, +and wrote him three lines, in the care of a Continental banker, +begging him at least to give some sign of whether he was alive or dead. +A week afterwards came an answer--brief, and dated Baden-Baden. "I +know I have been a great brute," Roderick wrote, "not to have sent +you a word before; but really I don't know what has got into me. +I have lately learned terribly well how to be idle. I am afraid +to think how long it is since I wrote to my mother or to Mary. +Heaven help them--poor, patient, trustful creatures! +I don't know how to tell you what I am doing. It seems all amusing +enough while I do it, but it would make a poor show in a narrative +intended for your formidable eyes. I found Baxter in Switzerland, +or rather he found me, and he grabbed me by the arm and brought me here. +I was walking twenty miles a day in the Alps, drinking milk +in lonely chalets, sleeping as you sleep, and thinking it +was all very good fun; but Baxter told me it would never do, +that the Alps were 'd----d rot,' that Baden-Baden was the place, +and that if I knew what was good for me I would come along with him. +It is a wonderful place, certainly, though, thank the Lord, +Baxter departed last week, blaspheming horribly at trente et quarante. +But you know all about it and what one does--what one is liable to do. +I have succumbed, in a measure, to the liabilities, and I wish +I had some one here to give me a thundering good blowing up. +Not you, dear friend; you would draw it too mild; you have too +much of the milk of human kindness. I have fits of horrible +homesickness for my studio, and I shall be devoutly grateful +when the summer is over and I can go back and swing a chisel. +I feel as if nothing but the chisel would satisfy me; +as if I could rush in a rage at a block of unshaped marble. +There are a lot of the Roman people here, English and American; +I live in the midst of them and talk nonsense from morning till night. +There is also some one else; and to her I don't talk sense, nor, +thank heaven, mean what I say. I confess, I need a month's work +to recover my self-respect." + +These lines brought Rowland no small perturbation; +the more, that what they seemed to point to surprised him. +During the nine months of their companionship Roderick had shown +so little taste for dissipation that Rowland had come to think +of it as a canceled danger, and it greatly perplexed him to learn +that his friend had apparently proved so pliant to opportunity. +But Roderick's allusions were ambiguous, and it was possible they +might simply mean that he was out of patience with a frivolous +way of life and fretting wholesomely over his absent work. +It was a very good thing, certainly, that idleness should prove, +on experiment, to sit heavily on his conscience. Nevertheless, the letter +needed, to Rowland's mind, a key: the key arrived a week later. +"In common charity," Roderick wrote, "lend me a hundred pounds! +I have gambled away my last franc--I have made a mountain of debts. +Send me the money first; lecture me afterwards!" Rowland sent +the money by return of mail; then he proceeded, not to lecture, +but to think. He hung his head; he was acutely disappointed. +He had no right to be, he assured himself; but so it was. +Roderick was young, impulsive, unpracticed in stoicism; it was a +hundred to one that he was to pay the usual vulgar tribute to folly. +But his friend had regarded it as securely gained to his own +belief in virtue that he was not as other foolish youths are, +and that he would have been capable of looking at folly in the face +and passing on his way. Rowland for a while felt a sore sense of wrath. +What right had a man who was engaged to that fine girl in Northampton +to behave as if his consciousness were a common blank, to be overlaid +with coarse sensations? Yes, distinctly, he was disappointed. +He had accompanied his missive with an urgent recommendation to leave +Baden-Baden immediately, and an offer to meet Roderick at any point +he would name. The answer came promptly; it ran as follows: +"Send me another fifty pounds! I have been back to the tables. +I will leave as soon as the money comes, and meet you at Geneva. +There I will tell you everything." + +There is an ancient terrace at Geneva, planted with trees and studded +with benches, overlooked by gravely aristocratic old dwellings +and overlooking the distant Alps. A great many generations have made +it a lounging-place, a great many friends and lovers strolled there, +a great many confidential talks and momentous interviews gone forward. +Here, one morning, sitting on one of the battered green benches, +Roderick, as he had promised, told his friend everything. +He had arrived late the night before; he looked tired, and yet flushed +and excited. He made no professions of penitence, but he practiced +an unmitigated frankness, and his self-reprobation might be taken +for granted. He implied in every phrase that he had done with it all, +and that he was counting the hours till he could get back to work. +We shall not rehearse his confession in detail; its main outline +will be sufficient. He had fallen in with some very idle people, +and had discovered that a little example and a little practice were capable +of producing on his own part a considerable relish for their diversions. +What could he do? He never read, and he had no studio; in one way +or another he had to pass the time. He passed it in dangling about +several very pretty women in wonderful Paris toilets, and reflected +that it was always something gained for a sculptor to sit under a tree, +looking at his leisure into a charming face and saying things that made +it smile and play its muscles and part its lips and show its teeth. +Attached to these ladies were certain gentlemen who walked about in clouds +of perfume, rose at midday, and supped at midnight. Roderick had +found himself in the mood for thinking them very amusing fellows. +He was surprised at his own taste, but he let it take its course. +It led him to the discovery that to live with ladies who expect you +to present them with expensive bouquets, to ride with them in the Black +Forest on well-looking horses, to come into their opera-boxes on nights +when Patti sang and prices were consequent, to propose little light +suppers at the Conversation House after the opera or drives by moonlight +to the Castle, to be always arrayed and anointed, trinketed and gloved,-- +that to move in such society, we say, though it might be a privilege, +was a privilege with a penalty attached. But the tables made such +things easy; half the Baden world lived by the tables. Roderick tried +them and found that at first they smoothed his path delightfully. +This simplification of matters, however, was only momentary, +for he soon perceived that to seem to have money, and to have it +in fact, exposed a good-looking young man to peculiar liabilities. +At this point of his friend's narrative, Rowland was reminded of +Madame de Cruchecassee in The Newcomes, and though he had listened +in tranquil silence to the rest of it, he found it hard not to say +that all this had been, under the circumstances, a very bad business. +Roderick admitted it with bitterness, and then told how much-- +measured simply financially--it had cost him. His luck had changed; +the tables had ceased to back him, and he had found himself up +to his knees in debt. Every penny had gone of the solid sum which +had seemed a large equivalent of those shining statues in Rome. +He had been an ass, but it was not irreparable; he could make another +statue in a couple of months. + +Rowland frowned. "For heaven's sake," he said, "don't play such +dangerous games with your facility. If you have got facility, +revere it, respect it, adore it, treasure it--don't speculate on it." +And he wondered what his companion, up to his knees in debt, would have done +if there had been no good-natured Rowland Mallet to lend a helping hand. +But he did not formulate his curiosity audibly, and the contingency +seemed not to have presented itself to Roderick's imagination. +The young sculptor reverted to his late adventures again in the evening, +and this time talked of them more objectively, as the phrase is; +more as if they had been the adventures of another person. +He related half a dozen droll things that had happened to him, +and, as if his responsibility had been disengaged by all this +free discussion, he laughed extravagantly at the memory of them. +Rowland sat perfectly grave, on principle. Then Roderick began +to talk of half a dozen statues that he had in his head, and set forth +his design, with his usual vividness. Suddenly, as it was relevant, +he declared that his Baden doings had not been altogether fruitless, +for that the lady who had reminded Rowland of Madame de Cruchecassee +was tremendously statuesque. Rowland at last said that it +all might pass if he felt that he was really the wiser for it. +"By the wiser," he added, "I mean the stronger in purpose, in will." + +"Oh, don't talk about will!" Roderick answered, throwing back his head +and looking at the stars. This conversation also took place in the open air, +on the little island in the shooting Rhone where Jean-Jacques has +a monument. "The will, I believe, is the mystery of mysteries. +Who can answer for his will? who can say beforehand that it 's strong? +There are all kinds of indefinable currents moving to and fro between +one's will and one's inclinations. People talk as if the two things +were essentially distinct; on different sides of one's organism, +like the heart and the liver. Mine, I know, are much nearer together. +It all depends upon circumstances. I believe there is a certain group +of circumstances possible for every man, in which his will is destined +to snap like a dry twig." + +"My dear boy," said Rowland, "don't talk about the will being 'destined.' +The will is destiny itself. That 's the way to look at it." + +"Look at it, my dear Rowland," Roderick answered, "as you +find most comfortable. One conviction I have gathered from +my summer's experience," he went on--"it 's as well to look +it frankly in the face--is that I possess an almost unlimited +susceptibility to the influence of a beautiful woman." + +Rowland stared, then strolled away, softly whistling to himself. +He was unwilling to admit even to himself that this speech +had really the sinister meaning it seemed to have. +In a few days the two young men made their way back to Italy, +and lingered a while in Florence before going on to Rome. +In Florence Roderick seemed to have won back his old innocence +and his preference for the pleasures of study over any others. +Rowland began to think of the Baden episode as a bad dream, +or at the worst as a mere sporadic piece of disorder, +without roots in his companion's character. +They passed a fortnight looking at pictures and exploring +for out the way bits of fresco and carving, and Roderick +recovered all his earlier fervor of appreciation and comment. +In Rome he went eagerly to work again, and finished in a month +two or three small things he had left standing on his departure. +He talked the most joyous nonsense about finding himself back +in his old quarters. On the first Sunday afternoon following +their return, on their going together to Saint Peter's, he delivered +himself of a lyrical greeting to the great church and to the city +in general, in a tone of voice so irrepressibly elevated +that it rang through the nave in rather a scandalous fashion, +and almost arrested a procession of canons who were marching +across to the choir. He began to model a new statue-- +a female figure, of which he had said nothing to Rowland. +It represented a woman, leaning lazily back in her chair, +with her head drooping as if she were listening, a vague smile +on her lips, and a pair of remarkably beautiful arms folded +in her lap. With rather less softness of contour, it would +have resembled the noble statue of Agrippina in the Capitol. +Rowland looked at it and was not sure he liked it. +"Who is it? what does it mean?" he asked. + +"Anything you please!" said Roderick, with a certain petulance. +"I call it A Reminiscence." + +Rowland then remembered that one of the Baden ladies had been +"statuesque," and asked no more questions. This, after all, +was a way of profiting by experience. A few days later he took +his first ride of the season on the Campagna, and as, on his +homeward way, he was passing across the long shadow of a ruined tower, +he perceived a small figure at a short distance, bent over a +sketch-book. As he drew near, he recognized his friend Singleton. +The honest little painter's face was scorched to flame-color +by the light of southern suns, and borrowed an even deeper crimson +from his gleeful greeting of his most appreciative patron. +He was making a careful and charming little sketch. +On Rowland's asking him how he had spent his summer, he gave +an account of his wanderings which made poor Mallet sigh with a +sense of more contrasts than one. He had not been out of Italy, +but he had been delving deep into the picturesque heart of +the lovely land, and gathering a wonderful store of subjects. +He had rambled about among the unvisited villages of the Apennines, +pencil in hand and knapsack on back, sleeping on straw and eating black +bread and beans, but feasting on local color, rioting, as it were, +on chiaroscuro, and laying up a treasure of pictorial observations. +He took a devout satisfaction in his hard-earned wisdom and his +happy frugality. Rowland went the next day, by appointment, +to look at his sketches, and spent a whole morning turning them over. +Singleton talked more than he had ever done before, explained them all, +and told some quaintly humorous anecdote about the production of each. + +"Dear me, how I have chattered!" he said at last. "I am afraid +you had rather have looked at the things in peace and quiet. +I did n't know I could talk so much. But somehow, I feel very happy; +I feel as if I had improved." + +"That you have," said Rowland. "I doubt whether an artist +ever passed a more profitable three months. You must feel +much more sure of yourself." + +Singleton looked for a long time with great intentness at a knot in +the floor. "Yes," he said at last, in a fluttered tone, "I feel much +more sure of myself. I have got more facility!" And he lowered his voice +as if he were communicating a secret which it took some courage to impart. +"I hardly like to say it, for fear I should after all be mistaken. +But since it strikes you, perhaps it 's true. It 's a great happiness; +I would not exchange it for a great deal of money." + +"Yes, I suppose it 's a great happiness," said Rowland. +"I shall really think of you as living here in a state of +scandalous bliss. I don't believe it 's good for an artist +to be in such brutally high spirits." + +Singleton stared for a moment, as if he thought Rowland was in earnest; +then suddenly fathoming the kindly jest, he walked about the room, +scratching his head and laughing intensely to himself. "And Mr. Hudson?" +he said, as Rowland was going; "I hope he is well and happy." + +"He is very well," said Rowland. "He is back at work again." + +"Ah, there 's a man," cried Singleton, "who has taken his start once for all, +and does n't need to stop and ask himself in fear and trembling every month +or two whether he is advancing or not. When he stops, it 's to rest! +And where did he spend his summer?" + +"The greater part of it at Baden-Baden." + +"Ah, that 's in the Black Forest," cried Singleton, with profound simplicity. +"They say you can make capital studies of trees there." + +"No doubt," said Rowland, with a smile, laying an almost +paternal hand on the little painter's yellow head. +"Unfortunately trees are not Roderick's line. Nevertheless, he tells +me that at Baden he made some studies. Come when you can, +by the way," he added after a moment, "to his studio, +and tell me what you think of something he has lately begun." +Singleton declared that he would come delightedly, and Rowland +left him to his work. + +He met a number of his last winter's friends again, and called upon +Madame Grandoni, upon Miss Blanchard, and upon Gloriani, shortly after +their return. The ladies gave an excellent account of themselves. +Madame Grandoni had been taking sea-baths at Rimini, and Miss Blanchard +painting wild flowers in the Tyrol. Her complexion was somewhat browned, +which was very becoming, and her flowers were uncommonly pretty. +Gloriani had been in Paris and had come away in high good-humor, +finding no one there, in the artist-world, cleverer than himself. +He came in a few days to Roderick's studio, one afternoon when Rowland +was present. He examined the new statue with great deference, said it was +very promising, and abstained, considerately, from irritating prophecies. +But Rowland fancied he observed certain signs of inward jubilation +on the clever sculptor's part, and walked away with him to learn +his private opinion. + +"Certainly; I liked it as well as I said," Gloriani declared in answer +to Rowland's anxious query; "or rather I liked it a great deal better. +I did n't say how much, for fear of making your friend angry. +But one can leave him alone now, for he 's coming round. I told you he could +n't keep up the transcendental style, and he has already broken down. +Don't you see it yourself, man?" + +"I don't particularly like this new statue," said Rowland. + +"That 's because you 're a purist. It 's deuced clever, it 's deuced knowing, +it 's deuced pretty, but it is n't the topping high art of three months ago. +He has taken his turn sooner than I supposed. What has happened to him? +Has he been disappointed in love? But that 's none of my business. +I congratulate him on having become a practical man." + +Roderick, however, was less to be congratulated than Gloriani had taken +it into his head to believe. He was discontented with his work, +he applied himself to it by fits and starts, he declared that he did +n't know what was coming over him; he was turning into a man of moods. +"Is this of necessity what a fellow must come to"--he asked of Rowland, +with a sort of peremptory flash in his eye, which seemed to imply +that his companion had undertaken to insure him against perplexities +and was not fulfilling his contract--"this damnable uncertainty +when he goes to bed at night as to whether he is going to wake up +in a working humor or in a swearing humor? Have we only a season, +over before we know it, in which we can call our faculties our own? +Six months ago I could stand up to my work like a man, day after day, +and never dream of asking myself whether I felt like it. +But now, some mornings, it 's the very devil to get going. +My statue looks so bad when I come into the studio that I have twenty +minds to smash it on the spot, and I lose three or four hours +in sitting there, moping and getting used to it." + +Rowland said that he supposed that this sort of thing was the lot of +every artist and that the only remedy was plenty of courage and faith. +And he reminded him of Gloriani's having forewarned him against these +sterile moods the year before. + +"Gloriani 's an ass!" said Roderick, almost fiercely. +He hired a horse and began to ride with Rowland on the Campagna. +This delicious amusement restored him in a measure to cheerfulness, +but seemed to Rowland on the whole not to stimulate his industry. +Their rides were always very long, and Roderick insisted on making +them longer by dismounting in picturesque spots and stretching +himself in the sun among a heap of overtangled stones. +He let the scorching Roman luminary beat down upon him +with an equanimity which Rowland found it hard to emulate. +But in this situation Roderick talked so much amusing nonsense that, +for the sake of his company, Rowland consented to be uncomfortable, +and often forgot that, though in these diversions the days +passed quickly, they brought forth neither high art nor low. +And yet it was perhaps by their help, after all, that Roderick +secured several mornings of ardent work on his new figure, +and brought it to rapid completion. One afternoon, when it +was finished, Rowland went to look at it, and Roderick asked +him for his opinion. + +"What do you think yourself?" Rowland demanded, not from pusillanimity, +but from real uncertainty. + +"I think it is curiously bad," Roderick answered. +"It was bad from the first; it has fundamental vices. +I have shuffled them in a measure out of sight, but I have not +corrected them. I can't--I can't--I can't!" he cried passionately. +"They stare me in the face--they are all I see!" + +Rowland offered several criticisms of detail, and suggested certain +practicable changes. But Roderick differed with him on each of these points; +the thing had faults enough, but they were not those faults. +Rowland, unruffled, concluded by saying that whatever its faults might be, +he had an idea people in general would like it. + +"I wish to heaven some person in particular would buy it, +and take it off my hands and out of my sight!" Roderick cried. +"What am I to do now?" he went on. "I have n't an idea. +I think of subjects, but they remain mere lifeless names. +They are mere words--they are not images. What am I to do?" + +Rowland was a trifle annoyed. "Be a man," he was on the point of saying, +"and don't, for heaven's sake, talk in that confoundedly querulous voice." +But before he had uttered the words, there rang through the studio a loud, +peremptory ring at the outer door. + +Roderick broke into a laugh. "Talk of the devil," +he said, "and you see his horns! If that 's not a customer, +it ought to be." + +The door of the studio was promptly flung open, and a lady +advanced to the threshold--an imposing, voluminous person, +who quite filled up the doorway. Rowland immediately felt +that he had seen her before, but he recognized her only when she +moved forward and disclosed an attendant in the person of a little +bright-eyed, elderly gentleman, with a bristling white moustache. +Then he remembered that just a year before he and his companion +had seen in the Ludovisi gardens a wonderfully beautiful girl, +strolling in the train of this conspicuous couple. +He looked for her now, and in a moment she appeared, following her +companions with the same nonchalant step as before, and leading +her great snow-white poodle, decorated with motley ribbons. +The elder lady offered the two young men a sufficiently gracious salute; +the little old gentleman bowed and smiled with extreme alertness. +The young girl, without casting a glance either at Roderick +or at Rowland, looked about for a chair, and, on perceiving one, +sank into it listlessly, pulled her poodle towards her, +and began to rearrange his top-knot. Rowland saw that, +even with her eyes dropped, her beauty was still dazzling. + +"I trust we are at liberty to enter," said the elder lady, with majesty. +"We were told that Mr. Hudson had no fixed day, and that we might come +at any time. Let us not disturb you." + +Roderick, as one of the lesser lights of the Roman art-world, had +not hitherto been subject to incursions from inquisitive tourists, +and, having no regular reception day, was not versed in the usual +formulas of welcome. He said nothing, and Rowland, looking at him, +saw that he was looking amazedly at the young girl and was apparently +unconscious of everything else. "By Jove!" he cried precipitately, +"it 's that goddess of the Villa Ludovisi!" Rowland in some confusion, +did the honors as he could, but the little old gentleman begged him +with the most obsequious of smiles to give himself no trouble. +"I have been in many a studio!" he said, with his finger on his nose +and a strong Italian accent. + +"We are going about everywhere," said his companion. +"I am passionately fond of art!" + +Rowland smiled sympathetically, and let them turn to Roderick's statue. +He glanced again at the young sculptor, to invite him to bestir himself, +but Roderick was still gazing wide-eyed at the beautiful young +mistress of the poodle, who by this time had looked up and was +gazing straight at him. There was nothing bold in her look; +it expressed a kind of languid, imperturbable indifference. +Her beauty was extraordinary; it grew and grew as the young +man observed her. In such a face the maidenly custom of +averted eyes and ready blushes would have seemed an anomaly; +nature had produced it for man's delight and meant that it +should surrender itself freely and coldly to admiration. +It was not immediately apparent, however, that the young lady +found an answering entertainment in the physiognomy of her host; +she turned her head after a moment and looked idly round the room, +and at last let her eyes rest on the statue of the woman seated. +It being left to Rowland to stimulate conversation, he began +by complimenting her on the beauty of her dog. + +"Yes, he 's very handsome," she murmured. "He 's a Florentine. +The dogs in Florence are handsomer than the people." +And on Rowland's caressing him: "His name is Stenterello," +she added. "Stenterello, give your hand to the gentleman." +This order was given in Italian. "Say buon giorno a lei." + +Stenterello thrust out his paw and gave four short, shrill barks; +upon which the elder lady turned round and raised her forefinger. + +"My dear, my dear, remember where you are! Excuse my foolish child," +she added, turning to Roderick with an agreeable smile. +"She can think of nothing but her poodle." + +"I am teaching him to talk for me," the young girl went on, +without heeding her mother; "to say little things in society. +It will save me a great deal of trouble. Stenterello, love, +give a pretty smile and say tanti complimenti!" +The poodle wagged his white pate--it looked like one of those +little pads in swan's-down, for applying powder to the face-- +and repeated the barking process. + +"He is a wonderful beast," said Rowland. + +"He is not a beast," said the young girl. "A beast is something +black and dirty--something you can't touch." + +"He is a very valuable dog," the elder lady explained. +"He was presented to my daughter by a Florentine nobleman." + +"It is not for that I care about him. It is for himself. +He is better than the prince." + +"My dear, my dear!" repeated the mother in deprecating accents, +but with a significant glance at Rowland which seemed to bespeak +his attention to the glory of possessing a daughter who could +deal in that fashion with the aristocracy. + +Rowland remembered that when their unknown visitors had passed +before them, a year previous, in the Villa Ludovisi, Roderick and he had +exchanged conjectures as to their nationality and social quality. +Roderick had declared that they were old-world people; but Rowland +now needed no telling to feel that he might claim the elder lady as a +fellow-countrywoman. She was a person of what is called a great deal +of presence, with the faded traces, artfully revived here and there, +of once brilliant beauty. Her daughter had come lawfully by her loveliness, +but Rowland mentally made the distinction that the mother was silly +and that the daughter was not. The mother had a very silly mouth-- +a mouth, Rowland suspected, capable of expressing an inordinate +degree of unreason. The young girl, in spite of her childish +satisfaction in her poodle, was not a person of feeble understanding. +Rowland received an impression that, for reasons of her own, +she was playing a part. What was the part and what were her reasons? +She was interesting; Rowland wondered what were her domestic secrets. +If her mother was a daughter of the great Republic, it was to be +supposed that the young girl was a flower of the American soil; +but her beauty had a robustness and tone uncommon in the somewhat +facile loveliness of our western maidenhood. She spoke with a vague +foreign accent, as if she had spent her life in strange countries. +The little Italian apparently divined Rowland's mute imaginings, +for he presently stepped forward, with a bow like a master of ceremonies. +"I have not done my duty," he said, "in not announcing these ladies. +Mrs. Light, Miss Light!" + +Rowland was not materially the wiser for this information, but Roderick +was aroused by it to the exercise of some slight hospitality. +He altered the light, pulled forward two or three figures, +and made an apology for not having more to show. "I don't pretend +to have anything of an exhibition--I am only a novice." + +"Indeed?--a novice! For a novice this is very well," Mrs. Light declared. +"Cavaliere, we have seen nothing better than this." + +The Cavaliere smiled rapturously. "It is stupendous!" he murmured. +"And we have been to all the studios." + +"Not to all--heaven forbid!" cried Mrs. Light. "But to a number that I +have had pointed out by artistic friends. I delight in studios: +they are the temples of the beautiful here below. And if you are +a novice, Mr. Hudson," she went on, "you have already great admirers. +Half a dozen people have told us that yours were among the things to see." +This gracious speech went unanswered; Roderick had already wandered across +to the other side of the studio and was revolving about Miss Light. +"Ah, he 's gone to look at my beautiful daughter; he is not the first +that has had his head turned," Mrs. Light resumed, lowering her +voice to a confidential undertone; a favor which, considering the +shortness of their acquaintance, Rowland was bound to appreciate. +"The artists are all crazy about her. When she goes into a studio +she is fatal to the pictures. And when she goes into a ball-room +what do the other women say? Eh, Cavaliere?" + +"She is very beautiful," Rowland said, gravely. + +Mrs. Light, who through her long, gold-cased glass was looking a little +at everything, and at nothing as if she saw it, interrupted her random +murmurs and exclamations, and surveyed Rowland from head to foot. +She looked at him all over; apparently he had not been mentioned +to her as a feature of Roderick's establishment. It was the gaze, +Rowland felt, which the vigilant and ambitious mamma of a beautiful +daughter has always at her command for well-dressed young men of +candid physiognomy. Her inspection in this case seemed satisfactory. +"Are you also an artist?" she inquired with an almost caressing inflection. +It was clear that what she meant was something of this kind: +"Be so good as to assure me without delay that you are really the young +man of substance and amiability that you appear." + +But Rowland answered simply the formal question--not the latent one. +"Dear me, no; I am only a friend of Mr. Hudson." + +Mrs. Light, with a sigh, returned to the statues, and after mistaking +the Adam for a gladiator, and the Eve for a Pocahontas, declared that she +could not judge of such things unless she saw them in the marble. +Rowland hesitated a moment, and then speaking in the interest of +Roderick's renown, said that he was the happy possessor of several +of his friend's works and that she was welcome to come and see them +at his rooms. She bade the Cavaliere make a note of his address. +"Ah, you 're a patron of the arts," she said. "That 's what I should +like to be if I had a little money. I delight in beauty in every form. +But all these people ask such monstrous prices. One must be a millionaire, +to think of such things, eh? Twenty years ago my husband had my portrait +painted, here in Rome, by Papucci, who was the great man in those days. +I was in a ball dress, with all my jewels, my neck and arms, and all that. +The man got six hundred francs, and thought he was very well treated. +Those were the days when a family could live like princes in Italy for five +thousand scudi a year. The Cavaliere once upon a time was a great dandy-- +don't blush, Cavaliere; any one can see that, just as any one can see that I +was once a pretty woman! Get him to tell you what he made a figure upon. +The railroads have brought in the vulgarians. That 's what I call it now-- +the invasion of the vulgarians! What are poor we to do?" + +Rowland had begun to murmur some remedial proposition, +when he was interrupted by the voice of Miss Light calling +across the room, "Mamma!" + +"My own love?" + +"This gentleman wishes to model my bust. Please speak to him." + +The Cavaliere gave a little chuckle. "Already?" he cried. + +Rowland looked round, equally surprised at the promptitude of the proposal. +Roderick stood planted before the young girl with his arms folded, +looking at her as he would have done at the Medicean Venus. +He never paid compliments, and Rowland, though he had not heard him speak, +could imagine the startling distinctness with which he made his request. + +"He saw me a year ago," the young girl went on, "and he has +been thinking of me ever since." Her tone, in speaking, +was peculiar; it had a kind of studied inexpressiveness, +which was yet not the vulgar device of a drawl. + +"I must make your daughter's bust--that 's all, madame!" +cried Roderick, with warmth. + +"I had rather you made the poodle's," said the young girl. +"Is it very tiresome? I have spent half my life sitting for my photograph, +in every conceivable attitude and with every conceivable coiffure. +I think I have posed enough." + +"My dear child," said Mrs. Light, "it may be one's duty to pose. +But as to my daughter's sitting to you, sir--to a young sculptor +whom we don't know--it is a matter that needs reflection. +It is not a favor that 's to be had for the mere asking." + +"If I don't make her from life," said Roderick, with energy, +"I will make her from memory, and if the thing 's to be done, +you had better have it done as well as possible." + +"Mamma hesitates," said Miss Light, "because she does n't +know whether you mean she shall pay you for the bust. +I can assure you that she will not pay you a sou." + +"My darling, you forget yourself," said Mrs. Light, with an attempt +at majestic severity. "Of course," she added, in a moment, +with a change of note, "the bust would be my own property." + +"Of course!" cried Roderick, impatiently. + +"Dearest mother," interposed the young girl, "how can +you carry a marble bust about the world with you? +Is it not enough to drag the poor original?" + +"My dear, you 're nonsensical!" cried Mrs. Light, almost angrily. + +"You can always sell it," said the young girl, with the +same artful artlessness. + +Mrs. Light turned to Rowland, who pitied her, flushed and irritated. +"She is very wicked to-day!" + +The Cavaliere grinned in silence and walked away on tiptoe, +with his hat to his lips, as if to leave the field clear for action. +Rowland, on the contrary, wished to avert the coming storm. +"You had better not refuse," he said to Miss Light, +"until you have seen Mr. Hudson's things in the marble. +Your mother is to come and look at some that I possess." + +"Thank you; I have no doubt you will see us. I dare say +Mr. Hudson is very clever; but I don't care for modern sculpture. +I can't look at it!" + +"You shall care for my bust, I promise you!" cried Roderick, +with a laugh. + +"To satisfy Miss Light," said the Cavaliere, "one of the old +Greeks ought to come to life." + +"It would be worth his while," said Roderick, paying, to Rowland's knowledge, +his first compliment. + +"I might sit to Phidias, if he would promise to be very amusing and make +me laugh. What do you say, Stenterello? would you sit to Phidias?" + +"We must talk of this some other time," said Mrs. Light. "We are +in Rome for the winter. Many thanks. Cavaliere, call the carriage." +The Cavaliere led the way out, backing like a silver-stick, and +Miss Light, following her mother, nodded, without looking at them, +to each of the young men. + +"Immortal powers, what a head!" cried Roderick, when they had gone. +"There 's my fortune!" + +"She is certainly very beautiful," said Rowland. +"But I 'm sorry you have undertaken her bust." + +"And why, pray?" + +"I suspect it will bring trouble with it." + +"What kind of trouble?" + +"I hardly know. They are queer people. The mamma, I suspect, is the least +bit of an adventuress. Heaven knows what the daughter is." + +"She 's a goddess!" cried Roderick. + +"Just so. She is all the more dangerous." + +"Dangerous? What will she do to me? She does n't bite, I imagine." + +"It remains to be seen. There are two kinds of women-- +you ought to know it by this time--the safe and the unsafe. +Miss Light, if I am not mistaken, is one of the unsafe. +A word to the wise!" + +"Much obliged!" said Roderick, and he began to whistle a triumphant air, +in honor, apparently, of the advent of his beautiful model. + +In calling this young lady and her mamma "queer people," +Rowland but roughly expressed his sentiment. They were so marked +a variation from the monotonous troop of his fellow-country people +that he felt much curiosity as to the sources of the change, +especially since he doubted greatly whether, on the whole, +it elevated the type. For a week he saw the two ladies driving +daily in a well-appointed landau, with the Cavaliere and the poodle +in the front seat. From Mrs. Light he received a gracious salute, +tempered by her native majesty; but the young girl, looking straight +before her, seemed profoundly indifferent to observers. +Her extraordinary beauty, however, had already made observers +numerous and given the habitues of the Pincian plenty to talk about. +The echoes of their commentary reached Rowland's ears; but he had little +taste for random gossip, and desired a distinctly veracious informant. +He had found one in the person of Madame Grandoni, for whom +Mrs. Light and her beautiful daughter were a pair of old friends. + +"I have known the mamma for twenty years," said this judicious critic, +"and if you ask any of the people who have been living +here as long as I, you will find they remember her well. +I have held the beautiful Christina on my knee when she was a +little wizened baby with a very red face and no promise of beauty +but those magnificent eyes. Ten years ago Mrs. Light disappeared, +and has not since been seen in Rome, except for a few days +last winter, when she passed through on her way to Naples. +Then it was you met the trio in the Ludovisi gardens. +When I first knew her she was the unmarried but very marriageable +daughter of an old American painter of very bad landscapes, +which people used to buy from charity and use for fire-boards. +His name was Savage; it used to make every one laugh, +he was such a mild, melancholy, pitiful old gentleman. +He had married a horrible wife, an Englishwoman who had been +on the stage. It was said she used to beat poor Savage +with his mahl-stick and when the domestic finances were low +to lock him up in his studio and tell him he should n't +come out until he had painted half a dozen of his daubs. +She had a good deal of showy beauty. She would then go forth, and, +her beauty helping, she would make certain people take the pictures. +It helped her at last to make an English lord run away with her. +At the time I speak of she had quite disappeared. +Mrs. Light was then a very handsome girl, though by no means +so handsome as her daughter has now become. Mr. Light was an +American consul, newly appointed at one of the Adriatic ports. +He was a mild, fair-whiskered young man, with some little property, +and my impression is that he had got into bad company at home, +and that his family procured him his place to keep him +out of harm's way. He came up to Rome on a holiday, +fell in love with Miss Savage, and married her on the spot. +He had not been married three years when he was drowned +in the Adriatic, no one ever knew how. The young widow came +back to Rome, to her father, and here shortly afterwards, +in the shadow of Saint Peter's, her little girl was born. +It might have been supposed that Mrs. Light would marry again, +and I know she had opportunities. But she overreached herself. +She would take nothing less than a title and a fortune, +and they were not forthcoming. She was admired and very +fond of admiration; very vain, very worldly, very silly. +She remained a pretty widow, with a surprising variety +of bonnets and a dozen men always in her train. +Giacosa dates from this period. He calls himself a Roman, +but I have an impression he came up from Ancona with her. +He was l'ami de la maison. He used to hold her bouquets, +clean her gloves (I was told), run her errands, get her +opera-boxes, and fight her battles with the shopkeepers. +For this he needed courage, for she was smothered in debt. +She at last left Rome to escape her creditors. Many of them must +remember her still, but she seems now to have money to satisfy them. +She left her poor old father here alone--helpless, infirm and +unable to work. A subscription was shortly afterwards taken +up among the foreigners, and he was sent back to America, +where, as I afterwards heard, he died in some sort of asylum. +From time to time, for several years, I heard vaguely of Mrs. Light +as a wandering beauty at French and German watering-places. +Once came a rumor that she was going to make a grand marriage +in England; then we heard that the gentleman had thought +better of it and left her to keep afloat as she could. +She was a terribly scatter-brained creature. She pretends +to be a great lady, but I consider that old Filomena, +my washer-woman, is in essentials a greater one. +But certainly, after all, she has been fortunate. +She embarked at last on a lawsuit about some property, +with her husband's family, and went to America to attend to it. +She came back triumphant, with a long purse. She reappeared +in Italy, and established herself for a while in Venice. +Then she came to Florence, where she spent a couple of years +and where I saw her. Last year she passed down to Naples, +which I should have said was just the place for her, and this +winter she has laid siege to Rome. She seems very prosperous. +She has taken a floor in the Palazzo F----, she keeps her carriage, +and Christina and she, between them, must have a pretty +milliner's bill. Giacosa has turned up again, looking as if +he had been kept on ice at Ancona, for her return." + +"What sort of education," Rowland asked, "do you imagine the mother's +adventures to have been for the daughter?" + +"A strange school! But Mrs. Light told me, in Florence, that she +had given her child the education of a princess. In other words, +I suppose, she speaks three or four languages, and has read several +hundred French novels. Christina, I suspect, is very clever. +When I saw her, I was amazed at her beauty, and, certainly, if there +is any truth in faces, she ought to have the soul of an angel. +Perhaps she has. I don't judge her; she 's an extraordinary young person. +She has been told twenty times a day by her mother, since she was +five years old, that she is a beauty of beauties, that her face is +her fortune, and that, if she plays her cards, she may marry a duke. +If she has not been fatally corrupted, she is a very superior girl. +My own impression is that she is a mixture of good and bad, of ambition +and indifference. Mrs. Light, having failed to make her own fortune +in matrimony, has transferred her hopes to her daughter, and nursed +them till they have become a kind of monomania. She has a hobby, +which she rides in secret; but some day she will let you see it. +I 'm sure that if you go in some evening unannounced, you will find +her scanning the tea-leaves in her cup, or telling her daughter's +fortune with a greasy pack of cards, preserved for the purpose. +She promises her a prince--a reigning prince. But if Mrs. Light +is silly, she is shrewd, too, and, lest considerations of state +should deny her prince the luxury of a love-match, she keeps on +hand a few common mortals. At the worst she would take a duke, +an English lord, or even a young American with a proper number +of millions. The poor woman must be rather uncomfortable. +She is always building castles and knocking them down again-- +always casting her nets and pulling them in. If her daughter were +less of a beauty, her transparent ambition would be very ridiculous; +but there is something in the girl, as one looks at her, that seems +to make it very possible she is marked out for one of those wonderful +romantic fortunes that history now and then relates. 'Who, after all, +was the Empress of the French?' Mrs. Light is forever saying. +'And beside Christina the Empress is a dowdy!' " + +"And what does Christina say?" + +"She makes no scruple, as you know, of saying that her +mother is a fool. What she thinks, heaven knows. +I suspect that, practically, she does not commit herself. +She is excessively proud, and thinks herself good enough +to occupy the highest station in the world; but she knows +that her mother talks nonsense, and that even a beautiful +girl may look awkward in making unsuccessful advances. +So she remains superbly indifferent, and lets her mother take +the risks. If the prince is secured, so much the better; +if he is not, she need never confess to herself that even +a prince has slighted her." + +"Your report is as solid," Rowland said to Madame Grandoni, +thanking her, "as if it had been prepared for the Academy of Sciences; +" and he congratulated himself on having listened to it when, a couple +of days later, Mrs. Light and her daughter, attended by the Cavaliere +and the poodle, came to his rooms to look at Roderick's statues. +It was more comfortable to know just with whom he was dealing. + +Mrs. Light was prodigiously gracious, and showered down compliments not +only on the statues, but on all his possessions. "Upon my word," she said, +"you men know how to make yourselves comfortable. If one of us poor women +had half as many easy-chairs and knick-knacks, we should be famously abused. +It 's really selfish to be living all alone in such a place as this. +Cavaliere, how should you like this suite of rooms and a fortune to fill them +with pictures and statues? Christina, love, look at that mosaic table. +Mr. Mallet, I could almost beg it from you. Yes, that Eve is certainly +very fine. We need n't be ashamed of such a great-grandmother as that. +If she was really such a beautiful woman, it accounts for the good looks +of some of us. Where is Mr. What 's-his-name, the young sculptor? +Why is n't he here to be complimented?" + +Christina had remained but for a moment in the chair which Rowland +had placed for her, had given but a cursory glance at the statues, +and then, leaving her place, had begun to wander round the room-- +looking at herself in the mirror, touching the ornaments and curiosities, +glancing at the books and prints. Rowland's sitting-room was +encumbered with bric-a-brac, and she found plenty of occupation. +Rowland presently joined her, and pointed out some of the objects +he most valued. + +"It 's an odd jumble," she said frankly. "Some things are very pretty-- +some are very ugly. But I like ugly things, when they have a +certain look. Prettiness is terribly vulgar nowadays, and it is +not every one that knows just the sort of ugliness that has chic. +But chic is getting dreadfully common too. There 's a hint of it +even in Madame Baldi's bonnets. I like looking at people's things," +she added in a moment, turning to Rowland and resting her eyes on him. +"It helps you to find out their characters." + +"Am I to suppose," asked Rowland, smiling, "that you have arrived +at any conclusions as to mine?" + +"I am rather muddled; you have too many things; one seems +to contradict another. You are very artistic and yet you +are very prosaic; you have what is called a 'catholic' taste +and yet you are full of obstinate little prejudices and habits +of thought, which, if I knew you, I should find very tiresome. +I don't think I like you." + +"You make a great mistake," laughed Rowland; "I assure you I +am very amiable." + +"Yes, I am probably wrong, and if I knew you, I should find out I +was wrong, and that would irritate me and make me dislike you more. +So you see we are necessary enemies." + +"No, I don't dislike you." + +"Worse and worse; for you certainly will not like me." + +"You are very discouraging." + +"I am fond of facing the truth, though some day you will deny that. +Where is that queer friend of yours?" + +"You mean Mr. Hudson. He is represented by these beautiful works." + +Miss Light looked for some moments at Roderick's statues. +"Yes," she said, "they are not so silly as most of the things we have seen. +They have no chic, and yet they are beautiful." + +"You describe them perfectly," said Rowland. "They are beautiful, +and yet they have no chic. That 's it!" + +"If he will promise to put none into my bust, I have a mind to let him +make it. A request made in those terms deserves to be granted." + +"In what terms?" + +"Did n't you hear him? 'Mademoiselle, you almost satisfy +my conception of the beautiful. I must model your bust.' +That almost should be rewarded. He is like me; he likes +to face the truth. I think we should get on together." + +The Cavaliere approached Rowland, to express the pleasure +he had derived from his beautiful "collection." His smile was +exquisitely bland, his accent appealing, caressing, insinuating. +But he gave Rowland an odd sense of looking at a little waxen image, +adjusted to perform certain gestures and emit certain sounds. +It had once contained a soul, but the soul had leaked out. +Nevertheless, Rowland reflected, there are more profitless +things than mere sound and gesture, in a consummate Italian. +And the Cavaliere, too, had soul enough left to desire to speak a few +words on his own account, and call Rowland's attention to the fact +that he was not, after all, a hired cicerone, but an ancient +Roman gentleman. Rowland felt sorry for him; he hardly knew why. +He assured him in a friendly fashion that he must come again; +that his house was always at his service. The Cavaliere bowed +down to the ground. "You do me too much honor," he murmured. +"If you will allow me--it is not impossible!" + +Mrs. Light, meanwhile, had prepared to depart. "If you are +not afraid to come and see two quiet little women, we shall +be most happy!" she said. "We have no statues nor pictures-- +we have nothing but each other. Eh, darling?" + +"I beg your pardon," said Christina. + +"Oh, and the Cavaliere," added her mother. + +"The poodle, please!" cried the young girl. + +Rowland glanced at the Cavaliere; he was smiling more blandly than ever. + +A few days later Rowland presented himself, as civility demanded, +at Mrs. Light's door. He found her living in one of the stately +houses of the Via dell' Angelo Custode, and, rather to his surprise, +was told she was at home. He passed through half a dozen rooms +and was ushered into an immense saloon, at one end of which sat +the mistress of the establishment, with a piece of embroidery. +She received him very graciously, and then, pointing mysteriously +to a large screen which was unfolded across the embrasure +of one of the deep windows, "I am keeping guard!" she said. +Rowland looked interrogative; whereupon she beckoned him forward +and motioned him to look behind the screen. He obeyed, and for some +moments stood gazing. Roderick, with his back turned, stood before +an extemporized pedestal, ardently shaping a formless mass of clay. +Before him sat Christina Light, in a white dress, with her +shoulders bare, her magnificent hair twisted into a classic coil, +and her head admirably poised. Meeting Rowland's gaze, +she smiled a little, only with her deep gray eyes, without moving. +She looked divinely beautiful. + + + + + + +CHAPTER V. Christina + +The brilliant Roman winter came round again, and Rowland enjoyed it, +in a certain way, more deeply than before. He grew at last to feel +that sense of equal possession, of intellectual nearness, which it +belongs to the peculiar magic of the ancient city to infuse into minds +of a cast that she never would have produced. He became passionately, +unreasoningly fond of all Roman sights and sensations, and to breathe +the Roman atmosphere began to seem a needful condition of being. +He could not have defined and explained the nature of his great love, +nor have made up the sum of it by the addition of his calculable pleasures. +It was a large, vague, idle, half-profitless emotion, of which perhaps +the most pertinent thing that may be said is that it enforced a sort +of oppressive reconciliation to the present, the actual, the sensuous-- +to life on the terms that there offered themselves. It was perhaps +for this very reason that, in spite of the charm which Rome flings +over one's mood, there ran through Rowland's meditations an undertone +of melancholy, natural enough in a mind which finds its horizon +insidiously limited to the finite, even in very picturesque forms. +Whether it is one that tacitly concedes to the Roman Church the monopoly +of a guarantee of immortality, so that if one is indisposed to bargain +with her for the precious gift, one must do without it altogether; +or whether in an atmosphere so heavily weighted with echoes and memories +one grows to believe that there is nothing in one's consciousness that +is not foredoomed to moulder and crumble and become dust for the feet, +and possible malaria for the lungs, of future generations--the fact +at least remains that one parts half-willingly with one's hopes in Rome, +and misses them only under some very exceptional stress of circumstance. +For this reason one may perhaps say that there is no other place +in which one's daily temper has such a mellow serenity, and none, +at the same time, in which acute attacks of depression are more intolerable. +Rowland found, in fact, a perfect response to his prevision that to +live in Rome was an education to one's senses and one's imagination, +but he sometimes wondered whether this was not a questionable +gain in case of one's not being prepared to live wholly by one's +imagination and one's senses. The tranquil profundity of his daily +satisfaction seemed sometimes to turn, by a mysterious inward impulse, +and face itself with questioning, admonishing, threatening eyes. +"But afterwards.... ?" it seemed to ask, with a long reverberation; +and he could give no answer but a shy affirmation that there was no +such thing as afterwards, and a hope, divided against itself, that his +actual way of life would last forever. He often felt heavy-hearted; +he was sombre without knowing why; there were no visible clouds in +his heaven, but there were cloud-shadows on his mood. Shadows projected, +they often were, without his knowing it, by an undue apprehension +that things after all might not go so ideally well with Roderick. +When he understood his anxiety it vexed him, and he rebuked himself for +taking things unmanfully hard. If Roderick chose to follow a crooked path, +it was no fault of his; he had given him, he would continue to give him, +all that he had offered him--friendship, sympathy, advice. He had +not undertaken to provide him with unflagging strength of purpose, +nor to stand bondsman for unqualified success. + +If Rowland felt his roots striking and spreading in the Roman soil, +Roderick also surrendered himself with renewed abandon to the +local influence. More than once he declared to his companion +that he meant to live and die within the shadow of Saint Peter's, +and that he cared little if he never again drew breath in American air. +"For a man of my temperament, Rome is the only possible place," +he said; "it 's better to recognize the fact early than late. +So I shall never go home unless I am absolutely forced." + +"What is your idea of 'force'?" asked Rowland, smiling. +"It seems to me you have an excellent reason for going home +some day or other." + +"Ah, you mean my engagement?" Roderick answered with unaverted eyes. +"Yes, I am distinctly engaged, in Northampton, and impatiently waited for!" +And he gave a little sympathetic sigh. "To reconcile Northampton +and Rome is rather a problem. Mary had better come out here. +Even at the worst I have no intention of giving up Rome within six or +eight years, and an engagement of that duration would be rather absurd." + +"Miss Garland could hardly leave your mother," Rowland observed. + +"Oh, of course my mother should come. I think I will suggest it +in my next letter. It will take her a year or two to make up +her mind to it, but if she consents it will brighten her up. +It 's too small a life, over there, even for a timid old lady. +It is hard to imagine," he added, "any change in Mary being +a change for the better; but I should like her to take a look +at the world and have her notions stretched a little. +One is never so good, I suppose, but that one can improve a little." + +"If you wish your mother and Miss Garland to come," Rowland suggested, +"you had better go home and bring them." + +"Oh, I can't think of leaving Europe, for many a day," Roderick answered. +"At present it would quite break the charm. I am just beginning +to profit, to get used to things and take them naturally. +I am sure the sight of Northampton Main Street would permanently +upset me. " + +It was reassuring to hear that Roderick, in his own view, +was but "just beginning" to spread his wings, and Rowland, +if he had had any forebodings, might have suffered them to be +modified by this declaration. This was the first time since their +meeting at Geneva that Roderick had mentioned Miss Garland's name, +but the ice being broken, he indulged for some time afterward +in frequent allusions to his betrothed, which always had +an accent of scrupulous, of almost studied, consideration. +An uninitiated observer, hearing him, would have imagined her to be +a person of a certain age--possibly an affectionate maiden aunt-- +who had once done him a kindness which he highly appreciated: +perhaps presented him with a check for a thousand dollars. +Rowland noted the difference between his present frankness +and his reticence during the first six months of his engagement, +and sometimes wondered whether it was not rather an anomaly +that he should expatiate more largely as the happy event receded. +He had wondered over the whole matter, first and last, +in a great many different ways, and looked at it in all +possible lights. There was something terribly hard to explain +in the fact of his having fallen in love with his cousin. +She was not, as Rowland conceived her, the sort of girl he would +have been likely to fancy, and the operation of sentiment, +in all cases so mysterious, was particularly so in this one. +Just why it was that Roderick should not logically have fancied +Miss Garland, his companion would have been at loss to say, +but I think the conviction had its roots in an unformulated +comparison between himself and the accepted suitor. +Roderick and he were as different as two men could be, +and yet Roderick had taken it into his head to fall +in love with a woman for whom he himself had been keeping +in reserve, for years, a profoundly characteristic passion. +That if he chose to conceive a great notion of the merits +of Roderick's mistress, the irregularity here was hardly +Roderick's, was a view of the case to which poor Rowland +did scanty justice. There were women, he said to himself, +whom it was every one's business to fall in love with a little-- +women beautiful, brilliant, artful, easily fascinating. +Miss Light, for instance, was one of these; every man who +spoke to her did so, if not in the language, at least with +something of the agitation, the divine tremor, of a lover. +There were other women--they might have great beauty, they might +have small; perhaps they were generally to be classified as plain-- +whose triumphs in this line were rare, but immutably permanent. +Such a one pre; aueminently, was Mary Garland. +Upon the doctrine of probabilities, it was unlikely that +she had had an equal charm for each of them, and was it +not possible, therefore, that the charm for Roderick had +been simply the charm imagined, unquestioningly accepted: +the general charm of youth, sympathy, kindness--of the +present feminine, in short--enhanced indeed by several fine +facial traits? The charm in this case for Rowland was-- +the charm!--the mysterious, individual, essential woman. +There was an element in the charm, as his companion saw it, +which Rowland was obliged to recognize, but which he forbore +to ponder; the rather important attraction, namely, of reciprocity. +As to Miss Garland being in love with Roderick and becoming +charming thereby, this was a point with which his imagination +ventured to take no liberties; partly because it would have +been indelicate, and partly because it would have been vain. +He contented himself with feeling that the young girl was +still as vivid an image in his memory as she had been five +days after he left her, and with drifting nearer and nearer +to the impression that at just that crisis any other girl +would have answered Roderick's sentimental needs as well. +Any other girl indeed would do so still! Roderick had confessed +as much to him at Geneva, in saying that he had been taking +at Baden the measure of his susceptibility to female beauty. + +His extraordinary success in modeling the bust of the beautiful +Miss Light was pertinent evidence of this amiable quality. +She sat to him, repeatedly, for a fortnight, and the work was +rapidly finished. On one of the last days Roderick asked Rowland +to come and give his opinion as to what was still wanting; +for the sittings had continued to take place in Mrs. Light's apartment, +the studio being pronounced too damp for the fair model. +When Rowland presented himself, Christina, still in her white dress, +with her shoulders bare, was standing before a mirror, +readjusting her hair, the arrangement of which, on this occasion, +had apparently not met the young sculptor's approval. +He stood beside her, directing the operation with a peremptoriness +of tone which seemed to Rowland to denote a considerable advance +in intimacy. As Rowland entered, Christina was losing patience. +"Do it yourself, then!" she cried, and with a rapid movement +unloosed the great coil of her tresses and let them fall +over her shoulders. + +They were magnificent, and with her perfect face dividing their +rippling flow she looked like some immaculate saint of legend +being led to martyrdom. Rowland's eyes presumably betrayed +his admiration, but her own manifested no consciousness of it. +If Christina was a coquette, as the remarkable timeliness of this +incident might have suggested, she was not a superficial one. + +"Hudson 's a sculptor," said Rowland, with warmth. +"But if I were only a painter!" + +"Thank Heaven you are not!" said Christina. "I am having quite +enough of this minute inspection of my charms." + +"My dear young man, hands off!" cried Mrs. Light, coming forward and seizing +her daughter's hair. "Christina, love, I am surprised." + +"Is it indelicate?" Christina asked. "I beg Mr. Mallet's pardon." +Mrs. Light gathered up the dusky locks and let them fall through +her fingers, glancing at her visitor with a significant smile. +Rowland had never been in the East, but if he had attempted +to make a sketch of an old slave-merchant, calling attention +to the "points" of a Circassian beauty, he would have depicted +such a smile as Mrs. Light's. "Mamma 's not really shocked," +added Christina in a moment, as if she had guessed her mother's +by-play. "She is only afraid that Mr. Hudson might have injured +my hair, and that, per consequenza, I should sell for less." + +"You unnatural child!" cried mamma. "You deserve that I should make +a fright of you!" And with half a dozen skillful passes she twisted +the tresses into a single picturesque braid, placed high on the head, +as a kind of coronal. + +"What does your mother do when she wants to do you justice?" +Rowland asked, observing the admirable line of the young girl's neck. + +"I do her justice when I say she says very improper things. +What is one to do with such a thorn in the flesh?" +Mrs. Light demanded. + +"Think of it at your leisure, Mr. Mallet," said Christina, +"and when you 've discovered something, let us hear. +But I must tell you that I shall not willingly believe in any +remedy of yours, for you have something in your physiognomy +that particularly provokes me to make the remarks that my mother +so sincerely deplores. I noticed it the first time I saw you. +I think it 's because your face is so broad. For some reason or other, +broad faces exasperate me; they fill me with a kind of rabbia. +Last summer, at Carlsbad, there was an Austrian count, +with enormous estates and some great office at court. +He was very attentive--seriously so; he was really very far gone. +Cela ne tenait qu' a moi! But I could n't; he was impossible! +He must have measured, from ear to ear, at least a yard and a half. +And he was blond, too, which made it worse--as blond as Stenterello; +pure fleece! So I said to him frankly, 'Many thanks, Herr Graf; +your uniform is magnificent, but your face is too fat.' " + +"I am afraid that mine also," said Rowland, with a smile, +"seems just now to have assumed an unpardonable latitude." + +"Oh, I take it you know very well that we are looking for a husband, +and that none but tremendous swells need apply. Surely, before +these gentlemen, mamma, I may speak freely; they are disinterested. +Mr. Mallet won't do, because, though he 's rich, he 's not rich enough. +Mamma made that discovery the day after we went to see you, moved to it +by the promising look of your furniture. I hope she was right, eh? +Unless you have millions, you know, you have no chance." + +"I feel like a beggar," said Rowland. + +"Oh, some better girl than I will decide some day, after mature reflection, +that on the whole you have enough. Mr. Hudson, of course, is nowhere; +he has nothing but his genius and his beaux yeux." + +Roderick had stood looking at Christina intently while she delivered herself, +softly and slowly, of this surprising nonsense. When she had finished, +she turned and looked at him; their eyes met, and he blushed a little. +"Let me model you, and he who can may marry you!" he said, abruptly. + +Mrs. Light, while her daughter talked, had been adding a few touches +to her coiffure. "She is not so silly as you might suppose," +she said to Rowland, with dignity. "If you will give me your arm, +we will go and look at the bust." + +"Does that represent a silly girl?" Christina demanded, +when they stood before it. + +Rowland transferred his glance several times from the portrait +to the original. "It represents a young lady," he said, +"whom I should not pretend to judge off-hand." + +"She may be a fool, but you are not sure. Many thanks! +You have seen me half a dozen times. You are either very slow +or I am very deep." + +"I am certainly slow," said Rowland. "I don't expect to make +up my mind about you within six months." + +"I give you six months if you will promise then a perfectly frank opinion. +Mind, I shall not forget; I shall insist upon it." + +"Well, though I am slow, I am tolerably brave," said Rowland. +"We shall see." + +Christina looked at the bust with a sigh. "I am afraid, after all," +she said, "that there 's very little wisdom in it save what the artist +has put there. Mr. Hudson looked particularly wise while he was working; +he scowled and growled, but he never opened his mouth. It is very kind +of him not to have represented me gaping." + +"If I had talked a lot of stuff to you," said Roderick, roundly, "the thing +would not have been a tenth so good." + +"Is it good, after all? Mr. Mallet is a famous connoisseur; +has he not come here to pronounce?" + +The bust was in fact a very happy performance, and Roderick had risen +to the level of his subject. It was thoroughly a portrait, and not a vague +fantasy executed on a graceful theme, as the busts of pretty women, +in modern sculpture, are apt to be. The resemblance was deep and vivid; +there was extreme fidelity of detail and yet a noble simplicity. +One could say of the head that, without idealization, it was a +representation of ideal beauty. Rowland, however, as we know, was not +fond of exploding into superlatives, and, after examining the piece, +contented himself with suggesting two or three alterations of detail. + +"Nay, how can you be so cruel?" demanded Mrs. Light, +with soft reproachfulness. "It is surely a wonderful thing!" + +"Rowland knows it 's a wonderful thing," said Roderick, smiling. +"I can tell that by his face. The other day I finished something +he thought bad, and he looked very differently from this." + +"How did Mr. Mallet look?" asked Christina. + +"My dear Rowland," said Roderick, "I am speaking of my seated woman. +You looked as if you had on a pair of tight boots." + +"Ah, my child, you 'll not understand that!" cried Mrs. Light. +"You never yet had a pair that were small enough." + +"It 's a pity, Mr. Hudson," said Christina, gravely, +"that you could not have introduced my feet into the bust. +But we can hang a pair of slippers round the neck!" + +"I nevertheless like your statues, Roderick," Rowland rejoined, +"better than your jokes. This is admirable. Miss Light, +you may be proud!" + +"Thank you, Mr. Mallet, for the permission," rejoined the young girl. + +"I am dying to see it in the marble, with a red velvet screen behind it," +said Mrs. Light. + +"Placed there under the Sassoferrato!" Christina went on. +"I hope you keep well in mind, Mr. Hudson, that you have not +a grain of property in your work, and that if mamma chooses, +she may have it photographed and the copies sold in the Piazza +di Spagna, at five francs apiece, without your having a sou +of the profits." + +"Amen!" said Roderick. "It was so nominated in the bond. +My profits are here!" and he tapped his forehead. + +"It would be prettier if you said here!" And Christina touched her heart. + +"My precious child, how you do run on!" murmured Mrs. Light. + +"It is Mr. Mallet," the young girl answered. +"I can't talk a word of sense so long as he is in the room. +I don't say that to make you go," she added, "I say it simply +to justify myself." + +Rowland bowed in silence. Roderick declared that he must get at work +and requested Christina to take her usual position, and Mrs. Light +proposed to her visitor that they should adjourn to her boudoir. +This was a small room, hardly more spacious than an alcove, +opening out of the drawing-room and having no other issue. +Here, as they entered, on a divan near the door, Rowland perceived +the Cavaliere Giacosa, with his arms folded, his head dropped upon +his breast, and his eyes closed. + +"Sleeping at his post!" said Rowland with a kindly laugh. + +"That 's a punishable offense," rejoined Mrs. Light, sharply. +She was on the point of calling him, in the same tone, +when he suddenly opened his eyes, stared a moment, and then +rose with a smile and a bow. + +"Excuse me, dear lady," he said, "I was overcome by the-- +the great heat." + +"Nonsense, Cavaliere!" cried the lady, "you know we are perishing +here with the cold! You had better go and cool yourself in one +of the other rooms." + +"I obey, dear lady," said the Cavaliere; and with another smile +and bow to Rowland he departed, walking very discreetly on his toes. +Rowland out-stayed him but a short time, for he was not fond of +Mrs. Light, and he found nothing very inspiring in her frank intimation +that if he chose, he might become a favorite. He was disgusted +with himself for pleasing her; he confounded his fatal urbanity. +In the court-yard of the palace he overtook the Cavaliere, who had +stopped at the porter's lodge to say a word to his little girl. +She was a young lady of very tender years and she wore a very dirty pinafore. +He had taken her up in his arms and was singing an infantine rhyme +to her, and she was staring at him with big, soft Roman eyes. +On seeing Rowland he put her down with a kiss, and stepped forward +with a conscious grin, an unresentful admission that he was sensitive +both to chubbiness and ridicule. Rowland began to pity him again; +he had taken his dismissal from the drawing-room so meekly. + +"You don't keep your promise," said Rowland, "to come and see me. +Don't forget it. I want you to tell me about Rome thirty years ago." + +"Thirty years ago? Ah, dear sir, Rome is Rome still; a place +where strange things happen! But happy things too, since I +have your renewed permission to call. You do me too much honor. +Is it in the morning or in the evening that I should least intrude?" + +"Take your own time, Cavaliere; only come, sometime. +I depend upon you," said Rowland. + +The Cavaliere thanked him with an humble obeisance. +To the Cavaliere, too, he felt that he was, in Roman phrase, +sympathetic, but the idea of pleasing this extremely reduced +gentleman was not disagreeable to him. + +Miss Light's bust stood for a while on exhibition in +Roderick's studio, and half the foreign colony came to see it. +With the completion of his work, however, Roderick's visits +at the Palazzo F---- by no means came to an end. +He spent half his time in Mrs. Light's drawing-room, +and began to be talked about as "attentive" to Christina. +The success of the bust restored his equanimity, and in +the garrulity of his good-humor he suffered Rowland to see +that she was just now the object uppermost in his thoughts. +Rowland, when they talked of her, was rather listener than speaker; +partly because Roderick's own tone was so resonant and exultant, +and partly because, when his companion laughed at him for having +called her unsafe, he was too perplexed to defend himself. +The impression remained that she was unsafe; that she was +a complex, willful, passionate creature, who might easily engulf +a too confiding spirit in the eddies of her capricious temper. +And yet he strongly felt her charm; the eddies had a +strange fascination! Roderick, in the glow of that renewed +admiration provoked by the fixed attention of portrayal, +was never weary of descanting on the extraordinary perfection +of her beauty. + +"I had no idea of it," he said, "till I began to look at her +with an eye to reproducing line for line and curve for curve. +Her face is the most exquisite piece of modeling that ever came +from creative hands. Not a line without meaning, not a hair's +breadth that is not admirably finished. And then her mouth! +It 's as if a pair of lips had been shaped to utter pure truth without +doing it dishonor!" Later, after he had been working for a week, +he declared if Miss Light were inordinately plain, she would still +be the most fascinating of women. "I 've quite forgotten her beauty," +he said, "or rather I have ceased to perceive it as something +distinct and defined, something independent of the rest of her. +She is all one, and all consummately interesting!" + +"What does she do--what does she say, that is so remarkable?" +Rowland had asked. + +"Say? Sometimes nothing--sometimes everything. She is never the same. +Sometimes she walks in and takes her place without a word, +without a smile, gravely, stiffly, as if it were an awful bore. +She hardly looks at me, and she walks away without even glancing at my work. +On other days she laughs and chatters and asks endless questions, +and pours out the most irresistible nonsense. She is a creature of moods; +you can't count upon her; she keeps observation on the stretch. +And then, bless you, she has seen such a lot! Her talk is full +of the oddest allusions!" + +"It is altogether a very singular type of young lady," +said Rowland, after the visit which I have related at length. +"It may be a charm, but it is certainly not the orthodox charm +of marriageable maidenhood, the charm of shrinking innocence +and soft docility. Our American girls are accused of being more +knowing than any others, and Miss Light is nominally an American. +But it has taken twenty years of Europe to make her what she is. +The first time we saw her, I remember you called her a product +of the old world, and certainly you were not far wrong." + +"Ah, she has an atmosphere," said Roderick, in the tone of high appreciation. + +"Young unmarried women," Rowland answered, "should be careful +not to have too much!" + +"Ah, you don't forgive her," cried his companion, "for hitting you so hard! +A man ought to be flattered at such a girl as that taking so much +notice of him." + +"A man is never flattered at a woman's not liking him." + +"Are you sure she does n't like you? That 's to the credit of your humility. +A fellow of more vanity might, on the evidence, persuade himself that +he was in favor." + +"He would have also," said Rowland, laughing, "to be a fellow +of remarkable ingenuity!" He asked himself privately how the deuce +Roderick reconciled it to his conscience to think so much more +of the girl he was not engaged to than of the girl he was. +But it amounted almost to arrogance, you may say, in poor Rowland +to pretend to know how often Roderick thought of Miss Garland. +He wondered gloomily, at any rate, whether for men of his +companion's large, easy power, there was not a larger moral law +than for narrow mediocrities like himself, who, yielding Nature +a meagre interest on her investment (such as it was), had no reason +to expect from her this affectionate laxity as to their accounts. +Was it not a part of the eternal fitness of things that Roderick, +while rhapsodizing about Miss Light, should have it at his command +to look at you with eyes of the most guileless and unclouded blue, +and to shake off your musty imputations by a toss of his picturesque +brown locks? Or had he, in fact, no conscience to speak of? +Happy fellow, either way! + +Our friend Gloriani came, among others, to congratulate Roderick +on his model and what he had made of her. "Devilish pretty, +through and through!" he said as he looked at the bust. +"Capital handling of the neck and throat; lovely work +on the nose. You 're a detestably lucky fellow, my boy! +But you ought not to have squandered such material on a +simple bust; you should have made a great imaginative figure. +If I could only have got hold of her, I would have put her +into a statue in spite of herself. What a pity she is not +a ragged Trasteverine, whom we might have for a franc an hour! +I have been carrying about in my head for years a delicious +design for a fantastic figure, but it has always stayed there +for want of a tolerable model. I have seen intimations +of the type, but Miss Light is the perfection of it. +As soon as I saw her I said to myself, 'By Jove, there 's +my statue in the flesh!' " + +"What is your subject?" asked Roderick. + +"Don't take it ill," said Gloriani. "You know I 'm the very deuce +for observation. She would make a magnificent Herodias!" + +If Roderick had taken it ill (which was unlikely, for we know +he thought Gloriani an ass, and expected little of his wisdom), +he might have been soothed by the candid incense of Sam Singleton, +who came and sat for an hour in a sort of mental prostration before +both bust and artist. But Roderick's attitude before his patient +little devotee was one of undisguised though friendly amusement; +and, indeed, judged from a strictly plastic point of view, +the poor fellow's diminutive stature, his enormous mouth, +his pimples and his yellow hair were sufficiently ridiculous. +"Nay, don't envy our friend," Rowland said to Singleton afterwards, +on his expressing, with a little groan of depreciation of his own +paltry performances, his sense of the brilliancy of Roderick's talent. +"You sail nearer the shore, but you sail in smoother waters. +Be contented with what you are and paint me another picture." + +"Oh, I don't envy Hudson anything he possesses," Singleton said, +"because to take anything away would spoil his beautiful completeness. +'Complete,' that 's what he is; while we little clevernesses +are like half-ripened plums, only good eating on the side +that has had a glimpse of the sun. Nature has made him so, +and fortune confesses to it! He is the handsomest fellow in Rome, +he has the most genius, and, as a matter of course, the most +beautiful girl in the world comes and offers to be his model. +If that is not completeness, where shall we find it?" + +One morning, going into Roderick's studio, Rowland found the young +sculptor entertaining Miss Blanchard--if this is not too flattering +a description of his gracefully passive tolerance of her presence. +He had never liked her and never climbed into her sky-studio to +observe her wonderful manipulation of petals. He had once quoted +Tennyson against her:-- + +"And is there any moral shut + +Within the bosom of the rose?" + +"In all Miss Blanchard's roses you may be sure there is a moral," +he had said. "You can see it sticking out its head, and, +if you go to smell the flower, it scratches your nose." +But on this occasion she had come with a propitiatory gift-- +introducing her friend Mr. Leavenworth. Mr. Leavenworth +was a tall, expansive, bland gentleman, with a carefully +brushed whisker and a spacious, fair, well-favored face, +which seemed, somehow, to have more room in it than was occupied +by a smile of superior benevolence, so that (with his smooth, +white forehead) it bore a certain resemblance to a large parlor +with a very florid carpet, but no pictures on the walls. +He held his head high, talked sonorously, and told Roderick, +within five minutes, that he was a widower, traveling to +distract his mind, and that he had lately retired from +the proprietorship of large mines of borax in Pennsylvania. +Roderick supposed at first that, in his character +of depressed widower, he had come to order a tombstone; +but observing then the extreme blandness of his address +to Miss Blanchard, he credited him with a judicious prevision +that by the time the tombstone was completed, a monument +of his inconsolability might have become an anachronism. +But Mr. Leavenworth was disposed to order something. + +"You will find me eager to patronize our indigenous talent," +he said. "I am putting up a little shanty in my native town, +and I propose to make a rather nice thing of it. +It has been the will of Heaven to plunge me into mourning; +but art has consolations! In a tasteful home, surrounded by the +memorials of my wanderings, I hope to take more cheerful views. +I ordered in Paris the complete appurtenances of a dining-room. +Do you think you could do something for my library? +It is to be filled with well-selected authors, and I think a pure +white image in this style,"--pointing to one of Roderick's +statues,--"standing out against the morocco and gilt, would have +a noble effect. The subject I have already fixed upon. +I desire an allegorical representation of Culture. +Do you think, now," asked Mr. Leavenworth, encouragingly, +"you could rise to the conception?" + +"A most interesting subject for a truly serious mind," +remarked Miss Blanchard. + +Roderick looked at her a moment, and then--"The simplest thing I could do," +he said, "would be to make a full-length portrait of Miss Blanchard. +I could give her a scroll in her hand, and that would do for the allegory." + +Miss Blanchard colored; the compliment might be ironical; +and there was ever afterwards a reflection of her uncertainty +in her opinion of Roderick's genius. Mr. Leavenworth +responded that with all deference to Miss Blanchard's beauty, +he desired something colder, more monumental, more impersonal. +"If I were to be the happy possessor of a likeness of Miss Blanchard," +he added, "I should prefer to have it in no factitious disguise!" + +Roderick consented to entertain the proposal, and while they were +discussing it, Rowland had a little talk with the fair artist. +"Who is your friend?" he asked. + +"A very worthy man. The architect of his own fortune--which is magnificent. +One of nature's gentlemen!" + +This was a trifle sententious, and Rowland turned to the bust +of Miss Light. Like every one else in Rome, by this time, +Miss Blanchard had an opinion on the young girl's beauty, +and, in her own fashion, she expressed it epigrammatically. +"She looks half like a Madonna and half like a ballerina," she said. + +Mr. Leavenworth and Roderick came to an understanding, and the young sculptor +good-naturedly promised to do his best to rise to his patron's conception. +"His conception be hanged!" Roderick exclaimed, after he had departed. +"His conception is sitting on a globe with a pen in her ear and a photographic +album in her hand. I shall have to conceive, myself. For the money, +I ought to be able to!" + +Mrs. Light, meanwhile, had fairly established herself in Roman society. +"Heaven knows how!" Madame Grandoni said to Rowland, who had +mentioned to her several evidences of the lady's prosperity. +"In such a case there is nothing like audacity. A month ago +she knew no one but her washerwoman, and now I am told that +the cards of Roman princesses are to be seen on her table. +She is evidently determined to play a great part, and she has +the wit to perceive that, to make remunerative acquaintances, +you must seem yourself to be worth knowing. You must have +striking rooms and a confusing variety of dresses, and give +good dinners, and so forth. She is spending a lot of money, +and you 'll see that in two or three weeks she will take upon +herself to open the season by giving a magnificent ball. +Of course it is Christina's beauty that floats her. +People go to see her because they are curious." + +"And they go again because they are charmed," said Rowland. +"Miss Christina is a very remarkable young lady." + +"Oh, I know it well; I had occasion to say so to myself the other day. +She came to see me, of her own free will, and for an hour she was +deeply interesting. I think she 's an actress, but she believes in her part +while she is playing it. She took it into her head the other day to believe +that she was very unhappy, and she sat there, where you are sitting, +and told me a tale of her miseries which brought tears into my eyes. +She cried, herself, profusely, and as naturally as possible. +She said she was weary of life and that she knew no one but me she +could speak frankly to. She must speak, or she would go mad. +She sobbed as if her heart would break. I assure you it 's well +for you susceptible young men that you don't see her when she sobs. +She said, in so many words, that her mother was an immoral woman. +Heaven knows what she meant. She meant, I suppose, that she makes debts +that she knows she can't pay. She said the life they led was horrible; +that it was monstrous a poor girl should be dragged about the world +to be sold to the highest bidder. She was meant for better things; +she could be perfectly happy in poverty. It was not money she wanted. +I might not believe her, but she really cared for serious things. +Sometimes she thought of taking poison!" + +"What did you say to that?" + +"I recommended her," said Madame Grandoni, "to come and see me instead. +I would help her about as much, and I was, on the whole, less unpleasant. +Of course I could help her only by letting her talk herself out and kissing +her and patting her beautiful hands and telling her to be patient and she +would be happy yet. About once in two months I expect her to reappear, +on the same errand, and meanwhile to quite forget my existence. +I believe I melted down to the point of telling her that I would find +some good, quiet, affectionate husband for her; but she declared, +almost with fury, that she was sick unto death of husbands, and begged I +would never again mention the word. And, in fact, it was a rash offer; +for I am sure that there is not a man of the kind that might really +make a woman happy but would be afraid to marry mademoiselle. +Looked at in that way she is certainly very much to be pitied, +and indeed, altogether, though I don't think she either means +all she says or, by a great deal, says all that she means. +I feel very sorry for her." + +Rowland met the two ladies, about this time, at several entertainments, +and looked at Christina with a kind of distant attendrissement. +He imagined more than once that there had been a passionate +scene between them about coming out, and wondered what arguments +Mrs. Light had found effective. But Christina's face told no tales, +and she moved about, beautiful and silent, looking absently over +people's heads, barely heeding the men who pressed about her, +and suggesting somehow that the soul of a world-wearied mortal +had found its way into the blooming body of a goddess. +"Where in the world has Miss Light been before she is twenty," +observers asked, "to have left all her illusions behind?" +And the general verdict was, that though she was incomparably beautiful, +she was intolerably proud. Young ladies to whom the former +distinction was not conceded were free to reflect that she was +"not at all liked." + +It would have been difficult to guess, however, how they reconciled +this conviction with a variety of conflicting evidence, and, +in especial, with the spectacle of Roderick's inveterate devotion. +All Rome might behold that he, at least, "liked" Christina Light. +Wherever she appeared he was either awaiting her or immediately +followed her. He was perpetually at her side, trying, apparently, +to preserve the thread of a disconnected talk, the fate of which was, +to judge by her face, profoundly immaterial to the young lady. +People in general smiled at the radiant good faith of the handsome +young sculptor, and asked each other whether he really supposed +that beauties of that quality were meant to wed with poor artists. +But although Christina's deportment, as I have said, was one of +superb inexpressiveness, Rowland had derived from Roderick no suspicion +that he suffered from snubbing, and he was therefore surprised +at an incident which befell one evening at a large musical party. +Roderick, as usual, was in the field, and, on the ladies taking the chairs +which had been arranged for them, he immediately placed himself +beside Christina. As most of the gentlemen were standing, his position +made him as conspicuous as Hamlet at Ophelia's feet, at the play. +Rowland was leaning, somewhat apart, against the chimney-piece. There +was a long, solemn pause before the music began, and in the midst +of it Christina rose, left her place, came the whole length of the +immense room, with every one looking at her, and stopped before him. +She was neither pale nor flushed; she had a soft smile. + +"Will you do me a favor?" she asked. + +"A thousand!" + +"Not now, but at your earliest convenience. Please remind Mr. Hudson +that he is not in a New England village--that it is not the custom +in Rome to address one's conversation exclusively, night after night, +to the same poor girl, and that".... + +The music broke out with a great blare and covered her voice. +She made a gesture of impatience, and Rowland offered her his arm +and led her back to her seat. + +The next day he repeated her words to Roderick, who burst into +joyous laughter. "She 's a delightfully strange girl!" he cried. +"She must do everything that comes into her head!" + +"Had she never asked you before not to talk to her so much?" + +"On the contrary, she has often said to me, 'Mind you now, I forbid +you to leave me. Here comes that tiresome So-and-so.' She cares +as little about the custom as I do. What could be a better proof +than her walking up to you, with five hundred people looking at her? +Is that the custom for young girls in Rome?" + +"Why, then, should she take such a step?" + +"Because, as she sat there, it came into her head. That 's reason +enough for her. I have imagined she wishes me well, as they say here-- +though she has never distinguished me in such a way as that!" + +Madame Grandoni had foretold the truth; Mrs. Light, a couple +of weeks later, convoked all Roman society to a brilliant ball. +Rowland went late, and found the staircase so encumbered with +flower-pots and servants that he was a long time making his way +into the presence of the hostess. At last he approached her, as she +stood making courtesies at the door, with her daughter by her side. +Some of Mrs. Light's courtesies were very low, for she had the happiness +of receiving a number of the social potentates of the Roman world. +She was rosy with triumph, to say nothing of a less metaphysical cause, +and was evidently vastly contented with herself, with her company, +and with the general promise of destiny. Her daughter was less +overtly jubilant, and distributed her greetings with impartial frigidity. +She had never been so beautiful. Dressed simply in vaporous white, +relieved with half a dozen white roses, the perfection of her +features and of her person and the mysterious depth of her +expression seemed to glow with the white light of a splendid pearl. +She recognized no one individually, and made her courtesy slowly, +gravely, with her eyes on the ground. Rowland fancied that, +as he stood before her, her obeisance was slightly exaggerated, +as with an intention of irony; but he smiled philosophically to himself, +and reflected, as he passed into the room, that, if she disliked him, +he had nothing to reproach himself with. He walked about, +had a few words with Miss Blanchard, who, with a fillet of cameos +in her hair, was leaning on the arm of Mr. Leavenworth, and at last +came upon the Cavaliere Giacosa, modestly stationed in a corner. +The little gentleman's coat-lappet was decorated with an enormous +bouquet and his neck encased in a voluminous white handkerchief +of the fashion of thirty years ago. His arms were folded, +and he was surveying the scene with contracted eyelids, through which +you saw the glitter of his intensely dark, vivacious pupil. +He immediately embarked on an elaborate apology for not having +yet manifested, as he felt it, his sense of the honor Rowland +had done him. + +"I am always on service with these ladies, you see," he explained, +"and that is a duty to which one would not willingly be faithless +for an instant." + +"Evidently," said Rowland, "you are a very devoted friend. +Mrs. Light, in her situation, is very happy in having you." + +"We are old friends," said the Cavaliere, gravely. "Old friends. +I knew the signora many years ago, when she was the prettiest +woman in Rome--or rather in Ancona, which is even better. +The beautiful Christina, now, is perhaps the most beautiful +young girl in Europe!" + +"Very likely," said Rowland. + +"Very well, sir, I taught her to read; I guided her little +hands to touch the piano keys." And at these faded memories, +the Cavaliere's eyes glittered more brightly. Rowland half expected +him to proceed, with a little flash of long-repressed passion, +"And now--and now, sir, they treat me as you observed the other day!" +But the Cavaliere only looked out at him keenly from among his wrinkles, +and seemed to say, with all the vividness of the Italian glance, +"Oh, I say nothing more. I am not so shallow as to complain!" + +Evidently the Cavaliere was not shallow, and Rowland repeated respectfully, +"You are a devoted friend." + +"That 's very true. I am a devoted friend. A man may do himself justice, +after twenty years!" + +Rowland, after a pause, made some remark about the beauty of the ball. +It was very brilliant. + +"Stupendous!" said the Cavaliere, solemnly. "It is a great day. +We have four Roman princes, to say nothing of others." And he counted +them over on his fingers and held up his hand triumphantly. +"And there she stands, the girl to whom I--I, Giuseppe Giacosa-- +taught her alphabet and her piano-scales; there she stands in her +incomparable beauty, and Roman princes come and bow to her. +Here, in his corner, her old master permits himself to be proud." + +"It is very friendly of him," said Rowland, smiling. + +The Cavaliere contracted his lids a little more and gave another +keen glance. "It is very natural, signore. The Christina is +a good girl; she remembers my little services. But here comes," +he added in a moment, "the young Prince of the Fine Arts. +I am sure he has bowed lowest of all." + +Rowland looked round and saw Roderick moving slowly across the room +and casting about him his usual luminous, unshrinking looks. +He presently joined them, nodded familiarly to the Cavaliere, +and immediately demanded of Rowland, "Have you seen her?" + +"I have seen Miss Light," said Rowland. "She 's magnificent." + +"I 'm half crazy!" cried Roderick; so loud that several persons turned round. + +Rowland saw that he was flushed, and laid his hand on his arm. +Roderick was trembling. "If you will go away," Rowland said instantly, +"I will go with you." + +"Go away?" cried Roderick, almost angrily. "I intend to dance with her!" + +The Cavaliere had been watching him attentively; he gently laid his +hand on his other arm. "Softly, softly, dear young man," he said. +"Let me speak to you as a friend." + +"Oh, speak even as an enemy and I shall not mind it," +Roderick answered, frowning. + +"Be very reasonable, then, and go away." + +"Why the deuce should I go away?" + +"Because you are in love," said the Cavaliere. + +"I might as well be in love here as in the streets." + +"Carry your love as far as possible from Christina. +She will not listen to you--she can't." + +"She 'can't'?" demanded Roderick. "She is not a person of whom you +may say that. She can if she will; she does as she chooses." + +"Up to a certain point. It would take too long to explain; I only beg you +to believe that if you continue to love Miss Light you will be very unhappy. +Have you a princely title? have you a princely fortune? Otherwise you can +never have her." + +And the Cavaliere folded his arms again, like a man who has done his duty. +Roderick wiped his forehead and looked askance at Rowland; he seemed +to be guessing his thoughts and they made him blush a little. +But he smiled blandly, and addressing the Cavaliere, "I 'm much obliged +to you for the information," he said. "Now that I have obtained it, +let me tell you that I am no more in love with Miss Light than you are. +Mr. Mallet knows that. I admire her--yes, profoundly. But that 's no one's +business but my own, and though I have, as you say, neither a princely +title nor a princely fortune, I mean to suffer neither those advantages +nor those who possess them to diminish my right." + +"If you are not in love, my dear young man," said the Cavaliere, +with his hand on his heart and an apologetic smile, "so much the better. +But let me entreat you, as an affectionate friend, to keep a watch on +your emotions. You are young, you are handsome, you have a brilliant +genius and a generous heart, but--I may say it almost with authority-- +Christina is not for you!" + +Whether Roderick was in love or not, he was nettled by what apparently +seemed to him an obtrusive negation of an inspiring possibility. +"You speak as if she had made her choice!" he cried. +"Without pretending to confidential information on the subject, +I am sure she has not." + +"No, but she must make it soon," said the Cavaliere. +And raising his forefinger, he laid it against his under lip. +"She must choose a name and a fortune--and she will!" + +"She will do exactly as her inclination prompts! +She will marry the man who pleases her, if he has n't a dollar! +I know her better than you. " + +The Cavaliere turned a little paler than usual, and smiled more urbanely. +"No, no, my dear young man, you do not know her better than I. You have +not watched her, day by day, for twenty years. I too have admired her. +She is a good girl; she has never said an unkind word to me; the blessed +Virgin be thanked! But she must have a brilliant destiny; it has been +marked out for her, and she will submit. You had better believe me; +it may save you much suffering." + +"We shall see!" said Roderick, with an excited laugh. + +"Certainly we shall see. But I retire from the discussion," +the Cavaliere added. "I have no wish to provoke you to attempt +to prove to me that I am wrong. You are already excited." + +"No more than is natural to a man who in an hour or so is to dance +the cotillon with Miss Light." + +"The cotillon? has she promised?" + +Roderick patted the air with a grand confidence. "You 'll see!" +His gesture might almost have been taken to mean that the state +of his relations with Miss Light was such that they quite dispensed +with vain formalities. + +The Cavaliere gave an exaggerated shrug. "You make a great many mourners!" + +"He has made one already!" Rowland murmured to himself. +This was evidently not the first time that reference had been made +between Roderick and the Cavaliere to the young man's possible passion, +and Roderick had failed to consider it the simplest and most natural +course to say in three words to the vigilant little gentleman +that there was no cause for alarm--his affections were preoccupied. +Rowland hoped, silently, with some dryness, that his motives +were of a finer kind than they seemed to be. He turned away; +it was irritating to look at Roderick's radiant, unscrupulous eagerness. +The tide was setting toward the supper-room and he drifted with it +to the door. The crowd at this point was dense, and he was +obliged to wait for some minutes before he could advance. +At last he felt his neighbors dividing behind him, +and turning he saw Christina pressing her way forward alone. +She was looking at no one, and, save for the fact of her being alone, +you would not have supposed she was in her mother's house. +As she recognized Rowland she beckoned to him, took his arm, +and motioned him to lead her into the supper-room. She said nothing +until he had forced a passage and they stood somewhat isolated. + +"Take me into the most out-of-the-way corner you can find," +she then said, "and then go and get me a piece of bread." + +"Nothing more? There seems to be everything conceivable." + +"A simple roll. Nothing more, on your peril. Only bring +something for yourself." + +It seemed to Rowland that the embrasure of a window +(embrasures in Roman palaces are deep) was a retreat +sufficiently obscure for Miss Light to execute whatever +design she might have contrived against his equanimity. +A roll, after he had found her a seat, was easily procured. +As he presented it, he remarked that, frankly speaking, +he was at loss to understand why she should have selected +for the honor of a tete-a-tete an individual for whom she +had so little taste. + +"Ah yes, I dislike you," said Christina. "To tell the truth, +I had forgotten it. There are so many people here whom I dislike more, +that when I espied you just now, you seemed like an intimate friend. +But I have not come into this corner to talk nonsense," she went on. +"You must not think I always do, eh?" + +"I have never heard you do anything else," said Rowland, deliberately, +having decided that he owed her no compliments. + +"Very good. I like your frankness. It 's quite true. You see, +I am a strange girl. To begin with, I am frightfully egotistical. +Don't flatter yourself you have said anything very clever +if you ever take it into your head to tell me so. +I know it much better than you. So it is, I can't help it. +I am tired to death of myself; I would give all I possess to get +out of myself; but somehow, at the end, I find myself so vastly +more interesting than nine tenths of the people I meet. +If a person wished to do me a favor I would say to him, +'I beg you, with tears in my eyes, to interest me. Be strong, +be positive, be imperious, if you will; only be something,-- +something that, in looking at, I can forget my detestable self!' +Perhaps that is nonsense too. If it is, I can't help it. +I can only apologize for the nonsense I know to be such +and that I talk--oh, for more reasons than I can tell you! +I wonder whether, if I were to try, you would understand me." + +"I am afraid I should never understand," said Rowland, +"why a person should willingly talk nonsense." + +"That proves how little you know about women. But I like your frankness. +When I told you the other day that you displeased me, I had an idea you +were more formal,--how do you say it?--more guinde. I am very capricious. +To-night I like you better." + +"Oh, I am not guinde," said Rowland, gravely. + +"I beg your pardon, then, for thinking so. Now I have an idea +that you would make a useful friend--an intimate friend-- +a friend to whom one could tell everything. For such a friend, +what would n't I give!" + +Rowland looked at her in some perplexity. Was this touching sincerity, +or unfathomable coquetry? Her beautiful eyes looked divinely candid; +but then, if candor was beautiful, beauty was apt to be subtle. +"I hesitate to recommend myself out and out for the office," he said, +"but I believe that if you were to depend upon me for anything +that a friend may do, I should not be found wanting." + +"Very good. One of the first things one asks of a friend is +to judge one not by isolated acts, but by one's whole conduct. +I care for your opinion--I don't know why." + +"Nor do I, I confess," said Rowland with a laugh. + +"What do you think of this affair?" she continued, without heeding his laugh. + +"Of your ball? Why, it 's a very grand affair." + +"It 's horrible--that 's what it is! It 's a mere rabble! +There are people here whom I never saw before, people who were never asked. +Mamma went about inviting every one, asking other people to invite any +one they knew, doing anything to have a crowd. I hope she is satisfied! +It is not my doing. I feel weary, I feel angry, I feel like crying. +I have twenty minds to escape into my room and lock the door and let +mamma go through with it as she can. By the way," she added in a moment, +without a visible reason for the transition, "can you tell me +something to read?" + +Rowland stared, at the disconnectedness of the question. + +"Can you recommend me some books?" she repeated. +"I know you are a great reader. I have no one else to ask. +We can buy no books. We can make debts for jewelry and bonnets +and five-button gloves, but we can't spend a sou for ideas. +And yet, though you may not believe it, I like ideas +quite as well." + +"I shall be most happy to lend you some books," Rowland said. +"I will pick some out to-morrow and send them to you." + +"No novels, please! I am tired of novels. I can imagine +better stories for myself than any I read. Some good poetry, +if there is such a thing nowadays, and some memoirs and histories +and books of facts." + +"You shall be served. Your taste agrees with my own." + +She was silent a moment, looking at him. Then suddenly--"Tell me something +about Mr. Hudson," she demanded. "You are great friends!" + +"Oh yes," said Rowland; "we are great friends." + +"Tell me about him. Come, begin!" + +"Where shall I begin? You know him for yourself." + +"No, I don't know him; I don't find him so easy to know. +Since he has finished my bust and begun to come here disinterestedly, +he has become a great talker. He says very fine things; +but does he mean all he says?" + +"Few of us do that." + +"You do, I imagine. You ought to know, for he tells me you +discovered him." Rowland was silent, and Christina continued, +"Do you consider him very clever?" + +"Unquestionably." + +"His talent is really something out of the common way?" + +"So it seems to me." + +"In short, he 's a man of genius?" + +"Yes, call it genius." + +"And you found him vegetating in a little village and took him +by the hand and set him on his feet in Rome?" + +"Is that the popular legend?" asked Rowland. + +"Oh, you need n't be modest. There was no great merit in it; +there would have been none at least on my part in the same circumstances. +Real geniuses are not so common, and if I had discovered one in +the wilderness, I would have brought him out into the market-place +to see how he would behave. It would be excessively amusing. +You must find it so to watch Mr. Hudson, eh? Tell me this: +do you think he is going to be a great man--become famous, +have his life written, and all that?" + +"I don't prophesy, but I have good hopes." + +Christina was silent. She stretched out her bare arm +and looked at it a moment absently, turning it so as to see-- +or almost to see--the dimple in her elbow. This was apparently +a frequent gesture with her; Rowland had already observed it. +It was as coolly and naturally done as if she had been in her +room alone. "So he 's a man of genius," she suddenly resumed. +"Don't you think I ought to be extremely flattered to have +a man of genius perpetually hanging about? He is the first I +ever saw, but I should have known he was not a common mortal. +There is something strange about him. To begin with, he has +no manners. You may say that it 's not for me to blame him, +for I have none myself. That 's very true, but the difference +is that I can have them when I wish to (and very charming ones too; +I 'll show you some day); whereas Mr. Hudson will never +have them. And yet, somehow, one sees he 's a gentleman. +He seems to have something urging, driving, pushing him, +making him restless and defiant. You see it in his eyes. +They are the finest, by the way, I ever saw. When a person +has such eyes as that you can forgive him his bad manners. +I suppose that is what they call the sacred fire." + +Rowland made no answer except to ask her in a moment if she would +have another roll. She merely shook her head and went on:-- + +"Tell me how you found him. Where was he--how was he?" + +"He was in a place called Northampton. Did you ever hear of it? +He was studying law--but not learning it." + +"It appears it was something horrible, eh?" + +"Something horrible?" + +"This little village. No society, no pleasures, no beauty, no life." + +"You have received a false impression. Northampton is not as gay as Rome, +but Roderick had some charming friends." + +"Tell me about them. Who were they?" + +"Well, there was my cousin, through whom I made his acquaintance: +a delightful woman." + +"Young--pretty?" + +"Yes, a good deal of both. And very clever." + +"Did he make love to her?" + +"Not in the least." + +"Well, who else?" + +"He lived with his mother. She is the best of women." + +"Ah yes, I know all that one's mother is. But she does not count as society. +And who else?" + +Rowland hesitated. He wondered whether Christina's +insistance was the result of a general interest in Roderick's +antecedents or of a particular suspicion. He looked at her; +she was looking at him a little askance, waiting for his answer. +As Roderick had said nothing about his engagement to the Cavaliere, +it was probable that with this beautiful girl he had not +been more explicit. And yet the thing was announced, +it was public; that other girl was happy in it, proud of it. +Rowland felt a kind of dumb anger rising in his heart. +He deliberated a moment intently. + +"What are you frowning at?" Christina asked. + +"There was another person," he answered, "the most important of all: +the young girl to whom he is engaged." + +Christina stared a moment, raising her eyebrows. +"Ah, Mr. Hudson is engaged?" she said, very simply. +"Is she pretty?" + +"She is not called a beauty," said Rowland. He meant to practice +great brevity, but in a moment he added, "I have seen beauties, +however, who pleased me less." + +"Ah, she pleases you, too? Why don't they marry?" + +"Roderick is waiting till he can afford to marry." + +Christina slowly put out her arm again and looked at the dimple +in her elbow. "Ah, he 's engaged?" she repeated in the same tone. +"He never told me." + +Rowland perceived at this moment that the people about them +were beginning to return to the dancing-room, and immediately +afterwards he saw Roderick making his way toward themselves. +Roderick presented himself before Miss Light. + +"I don't claim that you have promised me the cotillon," he said, +"but I consider that you have given me hopes which warrant +the confidence that you will dance with me." + +Christina looked at him a moment. "Certainly I have made no promises," +she said. "It seemed to me that, as the daughter of the house, +I should keep myself free and let it depend on circumstances." + +"I beseech you to dance with me!" said Roderick, with vehemence. + +Christina rose and began to laugh. "You say that very well, +but the Italians do it better." + +This assertion seemed likely to be put to the proof. +Mrs. Light hastily approached, leading, rather than led by, +a tall, slim young man, of an unmistakably Southern physiognomy. +"My precious love," she cried, "what a place to hide in! +We have been looking for you for twenty minutes; I have chosen +a cavalier for you, and chosen well!" + +The young man disengaged himself, made a ceremonious bow, +joined his two hands, and murmured with an ecstatic smile, +"May I venture to hope, dear signorina, for the honor +of your hand?" + +"Of course you may!" said Mrs. Light. "The honor is for us." + +Christina hesitated but for a moment, then swept the young man a courtesy +as profound as his own bow. "You are very kind, but you are too late. +I have just accepted!" + +"Ah, my own darling!" murmured--almost moaned--Mrs. Light. + +Christina and Roderick exchanged a single glance--a glance +brilliant on both sides. She passed her hand into his arm; +he tossed his clustering locks and led her away. + +A short time afterwards Rowland saw the young man whom she +had rejected leaning against a doorway. He was ugly, but what +is called distinguished-looking. He had a heavy black eye, +a sallow complexion, a long, thin neck; his hair was cropped +en brosse. He looked very young, yet extremely bored. +He was staring at the ceiling and stroking an imperceptible moustache. +Rowland espied the Cavaliere Giacosa hard by, and, having joined him, +asked him the young man's name. + +"Oh," said the Cavaliere, "he 's a pezzo grosso! +A Neapolitan. Prince Casamassima." + + + + + + +CHAPTER VI. Frascati + +One day, on entering Roderick's lodging (not the modest rooms on +the Ripetta which he had first occupied, but a much more sumptuous +apartment on the Corso), Rowland found a letter on the table +addressed to himself. It was from Roderick, and consisted +of but three lines: "I am gone to Frascati--for meditation. +If I am not at home on Friday, you had better join me." +On Friday he was still absent, and Rowland went out to Frascati. +Here he found his friend living at the inn and spending +his days, according to his own account, lying under the trees +of the Villa Mondragone, reading Ariosto. He was in a +sombre mood; "meditation" seemed not to have been fruitful. +Nothing especially pertinent to our narrative had passed +between the two young men since Mrs. Light's ball, save a +few words bearing on an incident of that entertainment. +Rowland informed Roderick, the next day, that he had told +Miss Light of his engagement. "I don't know whether you 'll +thank me," he had said, "but it 's my duty to let you know it. +Miss Light perhaps has already done so." + +Roderick looked at him a moment, intently, with his color slowly rising. +"Why should n't I thank you?" he asked. "I am not ashamed of my engagement." + +"As you had not spoken of it yourself, I thought you might have a reason +for not having it known." + +"A man does n't gossip about such a matter with strangers," +Roderick rejoined, with the ring of irritation in his voice. + +"With strangers--no!" said Rowland, smiling. + +Roderick continued his work; but after a moment, turning round with a frown: +"If you supposed I had a reason for being silent, pray why should +you have spoken?" + +"I did not speak idly, my dear Roderick. I weighed the matter before I spoke, +and promised myself to let you know immediately afterwards. It seemed to me +that Miss Light had better know that your affections are pledged." + +"The Cavaliere has put it into your head, then, that I am making +love to her?" + +"No; in that case I would not have spoken to her first." + +"Do you mean, then, that she is making love to me?" + +"This is what I mean," said Rowland, after a pause. +"That girl finds you interesting, and is pleased, even though +she may play indifference, at your finding her so. +I said to myself that it might save her some sentimental +disappointment to know without delay that you are not at liberty +to become indefinitely interested in other women." + +"You seem to have taken the measure of my liberty with +extraordinary minuteness!" cried Roderick. + +"You must do me justice. I am the cause of your separation +from Miss Garland, the cause of your being exposed to temptations +which she hardly even suspects. How could I ever face her," +Rowland demanded, with much warmth of tone, "if at the end of it +all she should be unhappy?" + +"I had no idea that Miss Garland had made such an impression on you. +You are too zealous; I take it she did n't charge you to look +after her interests." + +"If anything happens to you, I am accountable. You must understand that." + +"That 's a view of the situation I can't accept; in your own interest, +no less than in mine. It can only make us both very uncomfortable. +I know all I owe you; I feel it; you know that! But I am not a small boy nor +an outer barbarian any longer, and, whatever I do, I do with my eyes open. +When I do well, the merit 's mine; if I do ill, the fault 's mine! +The idea that I make you nervous is detestable. Dedicate your nerves +to some better cause, and believe that if Miss Garland and I have a quarrel, +we shall settle it between ourselves." + +Rowland had found himself wondering, shortly before, whether +possibly his brilliant young friend was without a conscience; +now it dimly occurred to him that he was without a heart. +Rowland, as we have already intimated, was a man with a +moral passion, and no small part of it had gone forth into +his relations with Roderick. There had been, from the first, +no protestations of friendship on either side, but Rowland +had implicitly offered everything that belongs to friendship, +and Roderick had, apparently, as deliberately accepted it. +Rowland, indeed, had taken an exquisite satisfaction in his +companion's deep, inexpressive assent to his interest in him. +"Here is an uncommonly fine thing," he said to himself: +"a nature unconsciously grateful, a man in whom friendship +does the thing that love alone generally has the credit of-- +knocks the bottom out of pride!" His reflective judgment +of Roderick, as time went on, had indulged in a great many +irrepressible vagaries; but his affection, his sense of something +in his companion's whole personality that overmastered his heart +and beguiled his imagination, had never for an instant faltered. +He listened to Roderick's last words, and then he smiled +as he rarely smiled--with bitterness. + +"I don't at all like your telling me I am too zealous," he said. +"If I had not been zealous, I should never have cared a fig for you." + +Roderick flushed deeply, and thrust his modeling tool +up to the handle into the clay. "Say it outright! +You have been a great fool to believe in me." + +"I desire to say nothing of the kind, and you don't honestly believe I do!" +said Rowland. "It seems to me I am really very good-natured even to reply +to such nonsense." + +Roderick sat down, crossed his arms, and fixed his eyes on the floor. +Rowland looked at him for some moments; it seemed to him that he had +never so clearly read his companion's strangely commingled character-- +his strength and his weakness, his picturesque personal attractiveness +and his urgent egoism, his exalted ardor and his puerile petulance. +It would have made him almost sick, however, to think that, on the whole, +Roderick was not a generous fellow, and he was so far from having ceased +to believe in him that he felt just now, more than ever, that all this +was but the painful complexity of genius. Rowland, who had not a grain +of genius either to make one say he was an interested reasoner, +or to enable one to feel that he could afford a dangerous theory or two, +adhered to his conviction of the essential salubrity of genius. +Suddenly he felt an irresistible compassion for his companion; it seemed +to him that his beautiful faculty of production was a double-edged instrument, +susceptible of being dealt in back-handed blows at its possessor. +Genius was priceless, inspired, divine; but it was also, at its hours, +capricious, sinister, cruel; and men of genius, accordingly, were alternately +very enviable and very helpless. It was not the first time he had had +a sense of Roderick's standing helpless in the grasp of his temperament. +It had shaken him, as yet, but with a half good-humored wantonness; +but, henceforth, possibly, it meant to handle him more roughly. +These were not times, therefore, for a friend to have a short patience. + +"When you err, you say, the fault 's your own," he said at last. +"It is because your faults are your own that I care about them." + +Rowland's voice, when he spoke with feeling, had an extraordinary amenity. +Roderick sat staring a moment longer at the floor, then he sprang +up and laid his hand affectionately on his friend's shoulder. +"You are the best man in the world," he said, "and I am a vile brute. +Only," he added in a moment, "you don't understand me!" And he looked +at him with eyes of such radiant lucidity that one might have said +(and Rowland did almost say so, himself) that it was the fault of one's +own grossness if one failed to read to the bottom of that beautiful soul. + +Rowland smiled sadly. "What is it now? Explain." + +"Oh, I can't explain!" cried Roderick impatiently, returning to his work. +"I have only one way of expressing my deepest feelings--it 's this!" +And he swung his tool. He stood looking at the half-wrought clay +for a moment, and then flung the instrument down. "And even this half +the time plays me false!" + +Rowland felt that his irritation had not subsided, +and he himself had no taste for saying disagreeable things. +Nevertheless he saw no sufficient reason to forbear uttering +the words he had had on his conscience from the beginning. +"We must do what we can and be thankful," he said. +"And let me assure you of this--that it won't help you to become +entangled with Miss Light." + +Roderick pressed his hand to his forehead with vehemence and then shook +it in the air, despairingly; a gesture that had become frequent with him +since he had been in Italy. "No, no, it 's no use; you don't understand me! +But I don't blame you. You can't!" + +"You think it will help you, then?" said Rowland, wondering. + +"I think that when you expect a man to produce beautiful and wonderful +works of art, you ought to allow him a certain freedom of action, +you ought to give him a long rope, you ought to let him follow his +fancy and look for his material wherever he thinks he may find it! +A mother can't nurse her child unless she follows a certain diet; an artist +can't bring his visions to maturity unless he has a certain experience. +You demand of us to be imaginative, and you deny us that which feeds +the imagination. In labor we must be as passionate as the inspired sibyl; +in life we must be mere machines. It won't do. When you have got an +artist to deal with, you must take him as he is, good and bad together. +I don't say they are pleasant fellows to know or easy fellows to live with; +I don't say they satisfy themselves any better than other people. +I only say that if you want them to produce, you must let them conceive. +If you want a bird to sing, you must not cover up its cage. +Shoot them, the poor devils, drown them, exterminate them, if you will, +in the interest of public morality; it may be morality would gain-- +I dare say it would! But if you suffer them to live, let them live +on their own terms and according to their own inexorable needs!" + +Rowland burst out laughing. "I have no wish whatever either +to shoot you or to drown you!" he said. "Why launch such a +tirade against a warning offered you altogether in the interest +of your freest development? Do you really mean that you have +an inexorable need of embarking on a flirtation with Miss Light?-- +a flirtation as to the felicity of which there may be differences +of opinion, but which cannot at best, under the circumstances, +be called innocent. Your last summer's adventures were more so! +As for the terms on which you are to live, I had an idea you +had arranged them otherwise!" + +"I have arranged nothing--thank God! I don't pretend to arrange. +I am young and ardent and inquisitive, and I admire Miss Light. +That 's enough. I shall go as far as admiration leads me. +I am not afraid. Your genuine artist may be sometimes half a madman, +but he 's not a coward!" + +"Suppose that in your speculation you should come to grief, +not only sentimentally but artistically?" + +"Come what come will! If I 'm to fizzle out, the sooner +I know it the better. Sometimes I half suspect it. +But let me at least go out and reconnoitre for the enemy, +and not sit here waiting for him, cudgeling my brains for ideas +that won't come!" + +Do what he would, Rowland could not think of Roderick's theory +of unlimited experimentation, especially as applied in the case +under discussion, as anything but a pernicious illusion. +But he saw it was vain to combat longer, for inclination +was powerfully on Roderick's side. He laid his hand on +Roderick's shoulder, looked at him a moment with troubled eyes, +then shook his head mournfully and turned away. + +"I can't work any more," said Roderick. "You have upset me! +I 'll go and stroll on the Pincian." And he tossed aside +his working-jacket and prepared himself for the street. +As he was arranging his cravat before the glass, +something occurred to him which made him thoughtful. +He stopped a few moments afterward, as they were going out, +with his hand on the door-knob. "You did, from your own point +of view, an indiscreet thing," he said, "to tell Miss Light +of my engagement." + +Rowland looked at him with a glance which was partly an interrogation, +but partly, also, an admission. + +"If she 's the coquette you say," Roderick added, "you have given +her a reason the more." + +"And that 's the girl you propose to devote yourself to?" cried Rowland. + +"Oh, I don't say it, mind! I only say that she 's the most interesting +creature in the world! The next time you mean to render me a service, +pray give me notice beforehand!" + +It was perfectly characteristic of Roderick that, a fortnight later, he should +have let his friend know that he depended upon him for society at Frascati, +as freely as if no irritating topic had ever been discussed between them. +Rowland thought him generous, and he had at any rate a liberal faculty +of forgetting that he had given you any reason to be displeased with him. +It was equally characteristic of Rowland that he complied with his friend's +summons without a moment's hesitation. His cousin Cecilia had once told him +that he was the dupe of his intense benevolence. She put the case with too +little favor, or too much, as the reader chooses; it is certain, at least, +that he had a constitutional tendency towards magnanimous interpretations. +Nothing happened, however, to suggest to him that he was deluded in thinking +that Roderick's secondary impulses were wiser than his primary ones, +and that the rounded total of his nature had a harmony perfectly attuned +to the most amiable of its brilliant parts. Roderick's humor, for the time, +was pitched in a minor key; he was lazy, listless, and melancholy, +but he had never been more friendly and kindly and appealingly submissive. +Winter had begun, by the calendar, but the weather was divinely mild, +and the two young men took long slow strolls on the hills and lounged away +the mornings in the villas. The villas at Frascati are delicious places, +and replete with romantic suggestiveness. Roderick, as he had said, +was meditating, and if a masterpiece was to come of his meditations, +Rowland was perfectly willing to bear him company and coax along the process. +But Roderick let him know from the first that he was in a miserably +sterile mood, and, cudgel his brains as he would, could think of nothing +that would serve for the statue he was to make for Mr. Leavenworth. + +"It is worse out here than in Rome," he said, "for here +I am face to face with the dead blank of my mind! +There I could n't think of anything either, but there +I found things to make me forget that I needed to." +This was as frank an allusion to Christina Light as could have been +expected under the circumstances; it seemed, indeed, to Rowland +surprisingly frank, and a pregnant example of his companion's +often strangely irresponsible way of looking at harmful facts. +Roderick was silent sometimes for hours, with a puzzled look on his +face and a constant fold between his even eyebrows; at other times +he talked unceasingly, with a slow, idle, half-nonsensical drawl. +Rowland was half a dozen times on the point of asking him what +was the matter with him; he was afraid he was going to be ill. +Roderick had taken a great fancy to the Villa Mondragone, +and used to declaim fantastic compliments to it as they +strolled in the winter sunshine on the great terrace which +looks toward Tivoli and the iridescent Sabine mountains. +He carried his volume of Ariosto in his pocket, and took +it out every now and then and spouted half a dozen stanzas +to his companion. He was, as a general thing, very little +of a reader; but at intervals he would take a fancy to one of +the classics and peruse it for a month in disjointed scraps. +He had picked up Italian without study, and had a wonderfully +sympathetic accent, though in reading aloud he ruined +the sense of half the lines he rolled off so sonorously. +Rowland, who pronounced badly but understood everything, +once said to him that Ariosto was not the poet for a man +of his craft; a sculptor should make a companion of Dante. +So he lent him the Inferno, which he had brought with him, +and advised him to look into it. Roderick took it +with some eagerness; perhaps it would brighten his wits. +He returned it the next day with disgust; he had found +it intolerably depressing. + +"A sculptor should model as Dante writes--you 're right there," he said. +"But when his genius is in eclipse, Dante is a dreadfully smoky lamp. +By what perversity of fate," he went on, "has it come about that I am +a sculptor at all? A sculptor is such a confoundedly special genius; +there are so few subjects he can treat, so few things in life that bear +upon his work, so few moods in which he himself is inclined to it." +(It may be noted that Rowland had heard him a dozen times affirm +the flat reverse of all this.) "If I had only been a painter-- +a little quiet, docile, matter-of-fact painter, like our friend Singleton-- +I should only have to open my Ariosto here to find a subject, to find color +and attitudes, stuffs and composition; I should only have to look up from +the page at that mouldy old fountain against the blue sky, at that cypress +alley wandering away like a procession of priests in couples, at the crags +and hollows of the Sabine hills, to find myself grasping my brush. +Best of all would be to be Ariosto himself, or one of his brotherhood. +Then everything in nature would give you a hint, and every form +of beauty be part of your stock. You would n't have to look at +things only to say,--with tears of rage half the time,--'Oh, yes, +it 's wonderfully pretty, but what the deuce can I do with it?' +But a sculptor, now! That 's a pretty trade for a fellow who has got +his living to make and yet is so damnably constituted that he can't work +to order, and considers that, aesthetically, clock ornaments don't pay! +You can't model the serge-coated cypresses, nor those mouldering old +Tritons and all the sunny sadness of that dried-up fountain; you can't +put the light into marble--the lovely, caressing, consenting Italian +light that you get so much of for nothing. Say that a dozen times in his +life a man has a complete sculpturesque vision--a vision in which the +imagination recognizes a subject and the subject kindles the imagination. +It is a remunerative rate of work, and the intervals are comfortable!" + +One morning, as the two young men were lounging on the sun-warmed +grass at the foot of one of the slanting pines of the Villa +Mondragone, Roderick delivered himself of a tissue of lugubrious +speculations as to the possible mischances of one's genius. +"What if the watch should run down," he asked, "and you +should lose the key? What if you should wake up some morning +and find it stopped, inexorably, appallingly stopped? +Such things have been, and the poor devils to whom they happened have +had to grin and bear it. The whole matter of genius is a mystery. +It bloweth where it listeth and we know nothing of its mechanism. +If it gets out of order we can't mend it; if it breaks down +altogether we can't set it going again. We must let it choose +its own pace, and hold our breath lest it should lose its balance. +It 's dealt out in different doses, in big cups and little, +and when you have consumed your portion it 's as naif to ask +for more as it was for Oliver Twist to ask for more porridge. +Lucky for you if you 've got one of the big cups; we drink +them down in the dark, and we can't tell their size until +we tip them up and hear the last gurgle. Those of some men +last for life; those of others for a couple of years. +Nay, what are you smiling at so damnably?" he went on. +"Nothing is more common than for an artist who has set out +on his journey on a high-stepping horse to find himself all +of a sudden dismounted and invited to go his way on foot. +You can number them by the thousand--the people of two or +three successes; the poor fellows whose candle burnt out in a night. +Some of them groped their way along without it, some of them +gave themselves up for blind and sat down by the wayside +to beg. Who shall say that I 'm not one of these? +Who shall assure me that my credit is for an unlimited sum? +Nothing proves it, and I never claimed it; or if I did, I did +so in the mere boyish joy of shaking off the dust of Northampton. +If you believed so, my dear fellow, you did so at your own risk! +What am I, what are the best of us, but an experiment? Do I succeed-- +do I fail? It does n't depend on me. I 'm prepared for failure. +It won't be a disappointment, simply because I shan't survive it. +The end of my work shall be the end of my life. When I have +played my last card, I shall cease to care for the game. +I 'm not making vulgar threats of suicide; for destiny, I trust, +won't add insult to injury by putting me to that abominable trouble. +But I have a conviction that if the hour strikes here," +and he tapped his forehead, "I shall disappear, dissolve, be carried +off in a cloud! For the past ten days I have had the vision +of some such fate perpetually swimming before my eyes. +My mind is like a dead calm in the tropics, and my imagination +as motionless as the phantom ship in the Ancient Mariner!" + +Rowland listened to this outbreak, as he often had occasion to listen +to Roderick's heated monologues, with a number of mental restrictions. +Both in gravity and in gayety he said more than he meant, and you +did him simple justice if you privately concluded that neither +the glow of purpose nor the chill of despair was of so intense +a character as his florid diction implied. The moods of an artist, +his exaltations and depressions, Rowland had often said to himself, +were like the pen-flourishes a writing-master makes in the air +when he begins to set his copy. He may bespatter you with ink, +he may hit you in the eye, but he writes a magnificent hand. +It was nevertheless true that at present poor Roderick gave +unprecedented tokens of moral stagnation, and as for genius being +held by the precarious tenure he had sketched, Rowland was at a loss +to see whence he could borrow the authority to contradict him. +He sighed to himself, and wished that his companion had a +trifle more of little Sam Singleton's evenness of impulse. +But then, was Singleton a man of genius? He answered that such +reflections seemed to him unprofitable, not to say morbid; +that the proof of the pudding was in the eating; that he did n't +know about bringing a genius that had palpably spent its last +breath back to life again, but that he was satisfied that vigorous +effort was a cure for a great many ills that seemed far gone. +"Don't heed your mood," he said, "and don't believe there is any +calm so dead that your own lungs can't ruffle it with a breeze. +If you have work to do, don't wait to feel like it; set to work +and you will feel like it." + +"Set to work and produce abortions!" cried Roderick with ire. +"Preach that to others. Production with me must be either +pleasure or nothing. As I said just now, I must either stay +in the saddle or not go at all. I won't do second-rate work; +I can't if I would. I have no cleverness, apart from inspiration. +I am not a Gloriani! You are right," he added after a while; +"this is unprofitable talk, and it makes my head ache. +I shall take a nap and see if I can dream of a bright idea or two." + +He turned his face upward to the parasol of the great pine, +closed his eyes, and in a short time forgot his sombre fancies. +January though it was, the mild stillness seemed to vibrate with faint +midsummer sounds. Rowland sat listening to them and wishing that, +for the sake of his own felicity, Roderick's temper were graced +with a certain absent ductility. He was brilliant, but was he, +like many brilliant things, brittle? Suddenly, to his musing sense, +the soft atmospheric hum was overscored with distincter sounds. +He heard voices beyond a mass of shrubbery, at the turn of a +neighboring path. In a moment one of them began to seem familiar, +and an instant later a large white poodle emerged into view. +He was slowly followed by his mistress. Miss Light paused a moment +on seeing Rowland and his companion; but, though the former perceived +that he was recognized, she made no bow. Presently she walked +directly toward him. He rose and was on the point of waking Roderick, +but she laid her finger on her lips and motioned him to forbear. +She stood a moment looking at Roderick's handsome slumber. + +"What delicious oblivion!" she said. "Happy man! Stenterello"--and she +pointed to his face--"wake him up!" + +The poodle extended a long pink tongue and began to lick Roderick's cheek. + +"Why," asked Rowland, "if he is happy?" + +"Oh, I want companions in misery! Besides, I want to show off my dog." +Roderick roused himself, sat up, and stared. By this time Mrs. Light +had approached, walking with a gentleman on each side of her. +One of these was the Cavaliere Giacosa; the other was Prince Casamassima. +"I should have liked to lie down on the grass and go to sleep," +Christina added. "But it would have been unheard of." + +"Oh, not quite," said the Prince, in English, with a tone of great precision. +"There was already a Sleeping Beauty in the Wood!" + +"Charming!" cried Mrs. Light. "Do you hear that, my dear?" + +"When the prince says a brilliant thing, it would be a pity +to lose it," said the young girl. "Your servant, sir!" +And she smiled at him with a grace that might have reassured him, +if he had thought her compliment ambiguous. + +Roderick meanwhile had risen to his feet, and Mrs. Light began to exclaim +on the oddity of their meeting and to explain that the day was so lovely +that she had been charmed with the idea of spending it in the country. +And who would ever have thought of finding Mr. Mallet and Mr. Hudson +sleeping under a tree! + +"Oh, I beg your pardon; I was not sleeping," said Rowland. + +"Don't you know that Mr. Mallet is Mr. Hudson's sheep-dog?" asked Christina. +"He was mounting guard to keep away the wolves." + +"To indifferent purpose, madame!" said Rowland, indicating the young girl. + +"Is that the way you spend your time?" Christina demanded of Roderick. +"I never yet happened to learn what men were doing when they supposed women +were not watching them but it was something vastly below their reputation." + +"When, pray," said Roderick, smoothing his ruffled locks, +"are women not watching them?" + +"We shall give you something better to do, at any rate. +How long have you been here? It 's an age since I have seen you. +We consider you domiciled here, and expect you to play host +and entertain us." + +Roderick said that he could offer them nothing but to show them +the great terrace, with its view; and ten minutes later the group +was assembled there. Mrs. Light was extravagant in her satisfaction; +Christina looked away at the Sabine mountains, in silence. +The prince stood by, frowning at the rapture of the elder lady. + +"This is nothing," he said at last. "My word of honor. +Have you seen the terrace at San Gaetano?" + +"Ah, that terrace," murmured Mrs. Light, amorously. "I suppose +it is magnificent!" + +"It is four hundred feet long, and paved with marble. +And the view is a thousand times more beautiful than this. +You see, far away, the blue, blue sea and the little +smoke of Vesuvio!" + +"Christina, love," cried Mrs. Light forthwith, "the prince has +a terrace four hundred feet long, all paved with marble!" + +The Cavaliere gave a little cough and began to wipe his eye-glass. + +"Stupendous!" said Christina. "To go from one end to +the other, the prince must have out his golden carriage." +This was apparently an allusion to one of the other items +of the young man's grandeur. + +"You always laugh at me," said the prince. "I know no more what to say!" + +She looked at him with a sad smile and shook her head. +"No, no, dear prince, I don't laugh at you. Heaven forbid! +You are much too serious an affair. I assure you I feel your importance. +What did you inform us was the value of the hereditary diamonds +of the Princess Casamassima?" + +"Ah, you are laughing at me yet!" said the poor young man, +standing rigid and pale. + +"It does n't matter," Christina went on. "We have a note of it; +mamma writes all those things down in a little book!" + +"If you are laughed at, dear prince, at least it 's in company," +said Mrs. Light, caressingly; and she took his arm, as if to resist +his possible displacement under the shock of her daughter's sarcasm. +But the prince looked heavy-eyed toward Rowland and Roderick, +to whom the young girl was turning, as if he had much rather his lot +were cast with theirs. + +"Is the villa inhabited?" Christina asked, pointing to the vast +melancholy structure which rises above the terrace. + +"Not privately," said Roderick. "It is occupied by a Jesuits' +college, for little boys." + +"Can women go in?" + +"I am afraid not." And Roderick began to laugh. +"Fancy the poor little devils looking up from their Latin +declensions and seeing Miss Light standing there!" + +"I should like to see the poor little devils, with their rosy +cheeks and their long black gowns, and when they were pretty, +I should n't scruple to kiss them. But if I can't have that +amusement I must have some other. We must not stand planted on this +enchanting terrace as if we were stakes driven into the earth. +We must dance, we must feast, we must do something picturesque. +Mamma has arranged, I believe, that we are to go back +to Frascati to lunch at the inn. I decree that we lunch +here and send the Cavaliere to the inn to get the provisions! +He can take the carriage, which is waiting below." + +Miss Light carried out this undertaking with unfaltering ardor. +The Cavaliere was summoned, and he stook to receive her commands +hat in hand, with his eyes cast down, as if she had been +a princess addressing her major-domo. She, however, laid her hand +with friendly grace upon his button-hole, and called him a dear, +good old Cavaliere, for being always so willing. Her spirits had +risen with the occasion, and she talked irresistible nonsense. +"Bring the best they have," she said, "no matter if it ruins us! +And if the best is very bad, it will be all the more amusing. +I shall enjoy seeing Mr. Mallet try to swallow it for propriety's sake! +Mr. Hudson will say out like a man that it 's horrible stuff, +and that he 'll be choked first! Be sure you bring a dish of maccaroni; +the prince must have the diet of the Neapolitan nobility. +But I leave all that to you, my poor, dear Cavaliere; you know +what 's good! Only be sure, above all, you bring a guitar. +Mr. Mallet will play us a tune, I 'll dance with Mr. Hudson, +and mamma will pair off with the prince, of whom she is so fond!" + +And as she concluded her recommendations, she patted +her bland old servitor caressingly on the shoulder. +He looked askance at Rowland; his little black eye glittered; +it seemed to say, "Did n't I tell you she was a good girl!" + +The Cavaliere returned with zealous speed, accompanied by one +of the servants of the inn, laden with a basket containing +the materials of a rustic luncheon. The porter of the villa +was easily induced to furnish a table and half a dozen chairs, +and the repast, when set forth, was pronounced a perfect success; +not so good as to fail of the proper picturesqueness, +nor yet so bad as to defeat the proper function of repasts. +Christina continued to display the most charming animation, +and compelled Rowland to reflect privately that, +think what one might of her, the harmonious gayety of a +beautiful girl was the most beautiful sight in nature. +Her good-humor was contagious. Roderick, who an hour before had +been descanting on madness and suicide, commingled his laughter +with hers in ardent devotion; Prince Casamassima stroked his +young moustache and found a fine, cool smile for everything; +his neighbor, Mrs. Light, who had Rowland on the other side, +made the friendliest confidences to each of the young men, +and the Cavaliere contributed to the general hilarity by +the solemnity of his attention to his plate. As for Rowland, +the spirit of kindly mirth prompted him to propose the health of this +useful old gentleman, as the effective author of their pleasure. +A moment later he wished he had held his tongue, for although +the toast was drunk with demonstrative good-will, the Cavaliere +received it with various small signs of eager self-effacement +which suggested to Rowland that his diminished gentility +but half relished honors which had a flavor of patronage. +To perform punctiliously his mysterious duties toward +the two ladies, and to elude or to baffle observation on his +own merits--this seemed the Cavaliere's modest programme. +Rowland perceived that Mrs. Light, who was not always remarkable +for tact, seemed to have divined his humor on this point. +She touched her glass to her lips, but offered him no compliment +and immediately gave another direction to the conversation. +He had brought no guitar, so that when the feast was over there +was nothing to hold the little group together. Christina wandered +away with Roderick to another part of the terrace; the prince, +whose smile had vanished, sat gnawing the head of his cane, +near Mrs. Light, and Rowland strolled apart with the Cavaliere, +to whom he wished to address a friendly word in compensation +for the discomfort he had inflicted on his modesty. +The Cavaliere was a mine of information upon all Roman places +and people; he told Rowland a number of curious anecdotes +about the old Villa Mondragone. "If history could always be +taught in this fashion!" thought Rowland. "It 's the ideal-- +strolling up and down on the very spot commemorated, +hearing sympathetic anecdotes from deeply indigenous lips." +At last, as they passed, Rowland observed the mournful +physiognomy of Prince Casamassima, and, glancing toward +the other end of the terrace, saw that Roderick and Christina +had disappeared from view. The young man was sitting upright, +in an attitude, apparently habitual, of ceremonious rigidity; +but his lower jaw had fallen and was propped up with his cane, +and his dull dark eye was fixed upon the angle of the villa +which had just eclipsed Miss Light and her companion. +His features were grotesque and his expression vacuous; +but there was a lurking delicacy in his face which seemed +to tell you that nature had been making Casamassimas for a great +many centuries, and, though she adapted her mould to circumstances, +had learned to mix her material to an extraordinary fineness +and to perform the whole operation with extreme smoothness. +The prince was stupid, Rowland suspected, but he imagined +he was amiable, and he saw that at any rate he had the great +quality of regarding himself in a thoroughly serious light. +Rowland touched his companion's arm and pointed to +the melancholy nobleman. + +"Why in the world does he not go after her and insist on +being noticed!" he asked. + +"Oh, he 's very proud!" said the Cavaliere. + +"That 's all very well, but a gentleman who cultivates a passion +for that young lady must be prepared to make sacrifices." + +"He thinks he has already made a great many. He comes +of a very great family--a race of princes who for six hundred +years have married none but the daughters of princes. +But he is seriously in love, and he would marry her to-morrow." + +"And she will not have him?" + +"Ah, she is very proud, too!" The Cavaliere was silent +a moment, as if he were measuring the propriety of frankness. +He seemed to have formed a high opinion of Rowland's discretion, +for he presently continued: "It would be a great match, for she +brings him neither a name nor a fortune--nothing but her beauty. +But the signorina will receive no favors; I know her well! +She would rather have her beauty blasted than seem to care +about the marriage, and if she ever accepts the prince it +will be only after he has implored her on his knees!" + +"But she does care about it," said Rowland, "and to bring him +to his knees she is working upon his jealousy by pretending +to be interested in my friend Hudson. If you said more, +you would say that, eh?" + +The Cavaliere's shrewdness exchanged a glance with Rowland's. "By no means. +Miss Light is a singular girl; she has many romantic ideas. She would be +quite capable of interesting herself seriously in an interesting young man, +like your friend, and doing her utmost to discourage a splendid suitor, +like the prince. She would act sincerely and she would go very far. +But it would be unfortunate for the young man," he added, after a pause, +"for at the last she would retreat!" + +"A singular girl, indeed!" + +"She would accept the more brilliant parti. I can answer for it." + +"And what would be her motive?" + +"She would be forced. There would be circumstances.... I can't +tell you more." + +"But this implies that the rejected suitor would also come back. +He might grow tired of waiting." + +"Oh, this one is good! Look at him now." Rowland looked, +and saw that the prince had left his place by Mrs. Light and was +marching restlessly to and fro between the villa and the parapet +of the terrace. Every now and then he looked at his watch. +"In this country, you know," said the Cavaliere, "a young +lady never goes walking alone with a handsome young man. +It seems to him very strange." + +"It must seem to him monstrous, and if he overlooks it he must +be very much in love." + +"Oh, he will overlook it. He is far gone." + +"Who is this exemplary lover, then; what is he?" + +"A Neapolitan; one of the oldest houses in Italy. He is a prince +in your English sense of the word, for he has a princely fortune. +He is very young; he is only just of age; he saw the signorina +last winter in Naples. He fell in love with her from the first, +but his family interfered, and an old uncle, an ecclesiastic, +Monsignor B----, hurried up to Naples, seized him, and locked him up. +Meantime he has passed his majority, and he can dispose of himself. +His relations are moving heaven and earth to prevent his +marrying Miss Light, and they have sent us word that he forfeits +his property if he takes his wife out of a certain line. +I have investigated the question minutely, and I find this is but a +fiction to frighten us. He is perfectly free; but the estates are +such that it is no wonder they wish to keep them in their own hands. +For Italy, it is an extraordinary case of unincumbered property. +The prince has been an orphan from his third year; he has therefore +had a long minority and made no inroads upon his fortune. +Besides, he is very prudent and orderly; I am only afraid that some day +he will pull the purse-strings too tight. All these years his affairs +have been in the hands of Monsignor B----, who has managed them +to perfection--paid off mortagages, planted forests, opened up mines. +It is now a magnificent fortune; such a fortune as, with his name, +would justify the young man in pretending to any alliance whatsoever. +And he lays it all at the feet of that young girl who is wandering +in yonder boschetto with a penniless artist." + +"He is certainly a phoenix of princes! The signora must +be in a state of bliss." + +The Cavaliere looked imperturbably grave. "The signora has a high +esteem for his character." + +"His character, by the way," rejoined Rowland, with a smile; +"what sort of a character is it?" + +"Eh, Prince Casamassima is a veritable prince! +He is a very good young man. He is not brilliant, +nor witty, but he 'll not let himself be made a fool of. +He 's very grave and very devout--though he does propose to marry +a Protestant. He will handle that point after marriage. +He 's as you see him there: a young man without many ideas, +but with a very firm grasp of a single one--the conviction that +Prince Casamassima is a very great person, that he greatly honors +any young lady by asking for her hand, and that things are going +very strangely when the young lady turns her back upon him. +The poor young man, I am sure, is profoundly perplexed. +But I whisper to him every day, 'Pazienza, Signor Principe!' " + +"So you firmly believe," said Rowland, in conclusion, "that Miss +Light will accept him just in time not to lose him!" + +"I count upon it. She would make too perfect a princess +to miss her destiny." + +"And you hold that nevertheless, in the mean while, +in listening to, say, my friend Hudson, she will have been +acting in good faith?" + +The Cavaliere lifted his shoulders a trifle, and gave an inscrutable smile. +"Eh, dear signore, the Christina is very romantic!" + +"So much so, you intimate, that she will eventually retract, in consequence +not of a change of sentiment, but of a mysterious outward pressure?" + +"If everything else fails, there is that resource. +But it is mysterious, as you say, and you need n't try to guess it. +You will never know." + +"The poor signorina, then, will suffer!" + +"Not too much, I hope." + +"And the poor young man! You maintain that there is nothing +but disappointment in store for the infatuated youth who loses +his heart to her!" + +The Cavaliere hesitated. "He had better," he said in a moment, +"go and pursue his studies in Florence. There are very fine +antiques in the Uffizi!" + +Rowland presently joined Mrs. Light, to whom her restless +protege had not yet returned. "That 's right," she said; +"sit down here; I have something serious to say to you. +I am going to talk to you as a friend. I want your assistance. +In fact, I demand it; it 's your duty to render it. +Look at that unhappy young man." + +"Yes," said Rowland, "he seems unhappy." + +"He is just come of age, he bears one of the greatest names in Italy +and owns one of the greatest properties, and he is pining away with love +for my daughter." + +"So the Cavaliere tells me." + +"The Cavaliere should n't gossip," said Mrs. Light dryly. +"Such information should come from me. The prince +is pining, as I say; he 's consumed, he 's devoured. +It 's a real Italian passion; I know what that means!" +And the lady gave a speaking glance, which seemed to coquet +for a moment with retrospect. "Meanwhile, if you please, +my daughter is hiding in the woods with your dear friend Mr. Hudson. +I could cry with rage." + +"If things are so bad as that," said Rowland, "it seems to me that you +ought to find nothing easier than to dispatch the Cavaliere to bring +the guilty couple back." + +"Never in the world! My hands are tied. Do you know what Christina +would do? She would tell the Cavaliere to go about his business-- +Heaven forgive her!--and send me word that, if she had a mind to, +she would walk in the woods till midnight. Fancy the Cavaliere +coming back and delivering such a message as that before the prince! +Think of a girl wantonly making light of such a chance as hers! +He would marry her to-morrow, at six o'clock in the morning!" + +"It is certainly very sad," said Rowland. + +"That costs you little to say. If you had left your precious young +meddler to vegetate in his native village you would have saved me +a world of distress!" + +"Nay, you marched into the jaws of danger," said Rowland. +"You came and disinterred poor Hudson in his own secluded studio." + +"In an evil hour! I wish to Heaven you would talk with him." + +"I have done my best." + +"I wish, then, you would take him away. You have plenty of money. +Do me a favor. Take him to travel. Go to the East--go to Timbuctoo. +Then, when Christina is Princess Casamassima," Mrs. Light added in a moment, +"he may come back if he chooses." + +"Does she really care for him?" Rowland asked, abruptly. + +"She thinks she does, possibly. She is a living riddle. +She must needs follow out every idea that comes into her head. +Fortunately, most of them don't last long; but this one may last long +enough to give the prince a chill. If that were to happen, I don't +know what I should do! I should be the most miserable of women. +It would be too cruel, after all I 've suffered to make her +what she is, to see the labor of years blighted by a caprice. +For I can assure you, sir," Mrs. Light went on, "that if my daughter +is the greatest beauty in the world, some of the credit is mine." + +Rowland promptly remarked that this was obvious. +He saw that the lady's irritated nerves demanded comfort from +flattering reminiscence, and he assumed designedly the attitude +of a zealous auditor. She began to retail her efforts, +her hopes, her dreams, her presentiments, her disappointments, +in the cause of her daughter's matrimonial fortunes. +It was a long story, and while it was being unfolded, the prince +continued to pass to and fro, stiffly and solemnly, like a pendulum +marking the time allowed for the young lady to come to her senses. +Mrs. Light evidently, at an early period, had gathered her +maternal hopes into a sacred sheaf, which she said her prayers +and burnt incense to, and treated like a sort of fetish. +They had been her religion; she had none other, and she performed +her devotions bravely and cheerily, in the light of day. +The poor old fetish had been so caressed and manipulated, +so thrust in and out of its niche, so passed from hand to hand, +so dressed and undressed, so mumbled and fumbled over, +that it had lost by this time much of its early freshness, +and seemed a rather battered and disfeatured divinity. +But it was still brought forth in moments of trouble to have its +tinseled petticoat twisted about and be set up on its altar. +Rowland observed that Mrs. Light had a genuine maternal conscience; +she considered that she had been performing a sacred duty in bringing +up Christina to set her cap for a prince, and when the future +looked dark, she found consolation in thinking that destiny could +never have the heart to deal a blow at so deserving a person. +This conscience upside down presented to Rowland's fancy a real +physical image; he was on the point, half a dozen times, +of bursting out laughing. + +"I don't know whether you believe in presentiments," said Mrs. Light, +"and I don't care! I have had one for the last fifteen years. +People have laughed at it, but they have n't laughed me out of it. +It has been everything to me. I could n't have lived without it. +One must believe in something! It came to me in a flash, +when Christina was five years old. I remember the day and +the place, as if it were yesterday. She was a very ugly baby; +for the first two years I could hardly bear to look at her, +and I used to spoil my own looks with crying about her. +She had an Italian nurse who was very fond of her and insisted +that she would grow up pretty. I could n't believe her; +I used to contradict her, and we were forever squabbling. +I was just a little silly in those days--surely I may say it now-- +and I was very fond of being amused. If my daughter was ugly, +it was not that she resembled her mamma; I had no lack of amusement. +People accused me, I believe, of neglecting my little girl; +if it was so, I 've made up for it since. One day I went to drive +on the Pincio in very low spirits. A trusted friend had greatly +disappointed me. While I was there he passed me in a carriage, +driving with a horrible woman who had made trouble between us. +I got out of my carriage to walk about, and at last sat +down on a bench. I can show you the spot at this hour. +While I sat there a child came wandering along the path-- +a little girl of four or five, very fantastically dressed +in crimson and orange. She stopped in front of me and stared +at me, and I stared at her queer little dress, which was +a cheap imitation of the costume of one of these contadine. +At last I looked up at her face, and said to myself, 'Bless me, +what a beautiful child! what a splendid pair of eyes, +what a magnificent head of hair! If my poor Christina were +only like that!' The child turned away slowly, but looking +back with its eyes fixed on me. All of a sudden I gave a cry, +pounced on it, pressed it in my arms, and covered it with kisses. +It was Christina, my own precious child, so disguised +by the ridiculous dress which the nurse had amused herself +in making for her, that her own mother had not recognized her. +She knew me, but she said afterwards that she had not spoken +to me because I looked so angry. Of course my face was sad. +I rushed with my child to the carriage, drove home post-haste, +pulled off her rags, and, as I may say, wrapped her in cotton. +I had been blind, I had been insane; she was a creature +in ten millions, she was to be a beauty of beauties, +a priceless treasure! Every day, after that, the certainty grew. +From that time I lived only for my daughter. I watched her, +I caressed her from morning till night, I worshipped her. +I went to see doctors about her, I took every sort of advice. +I was determined she should be perfection. The things that +have been done for that girl, sir--you would n't believe them; +they would make you smile! Nothing was spared; if I had been +told that she must have a bath every morning of molten pearls, +I would have found means to give it to her. She never raised +a finger for herself, she breathed nothing but perfumes, +she walked upon velvet. She never was out of my sight, +and from that day to this I have never said a sharp word to her. +By the time she was ten years old she was beautiful as an angel, +and so noticed wherever we went that I had to make her wear a veil, +like a woman of twenty. Her hair reached down to her feet; +her hands were the hands of a princess. Then I saw that she +was as clever as she was beautiful, and that she had only +to play her cards. She had masters, professors, every +educational advantage. They told me she was a little prodigy. +She speaks French, Italian, German, better than most natives. +She has a wonderful genius for music, and might make her +fortune as a pianist, if it was not made for her otherwise! +I traveled all over Europe; every one told me she was a marvel. +The director of the opera in Paris saw her dance at a child's +party at Spa, and offered me an enormous sum if I would give +her up to him and let him have her educated for the ballet. +I said, 'No, I thank you, sir; she is meant to be something +finer than a princesse de theatre.' I had a passionate +belief that she might marry absolutely whom she chose, +that she might be a princess out and out. It has never left +me till this hour, and I can assure you that it has sustained +me in many embarrassments. Financial, some of them; I don't +mind confessing it! I have raised money on that girl's face! +I 've taken her to the Jews and bade her put up her veil, +and asked if the mother of that young lady was not safe! +She, of course, was too young to understand me. And yet, +as a child, you would have said she knew what was in store for her; +before she could read, she had the manners, the tastes, the instincts +of a little princess. She would have nothing to do with shabby +things or shabby people; if she stained one of her frocks, +she was seized with a kind of frenzy and tore it to pieces. +At Nice, at Baden, at Brighton, wherever we stayed, she used to be +sent for by all the great people to play with their children. +She has played at kissing-games with people who now stand +on the steps of thrones! I have gone so far as to think +at times that those childish kisses were a sign--a symbol-- +a portent. You may laugh at me if you like, but have n't +such things happened again and again without half as good +a cause, and does n't history notoriously repeat itself? +There was a little Spanish girl at a second-rate English +boarding-school thirty years ago!.... The Empress certainly +is a pretty woman; but what is my Christina, pray? +I 've dreamt of it, sometimes every night for a month. +I won't tell you I have been to consult those old women who +advertise in the newspapers; you 'll call me an old imbecile. +Imbecile if you please! I have refused magnificent offers +because I believed that somehow or other--if wars and revolutions +were needed to bring it about--we should have nothing less +than that. There might be another coup d'etat somewhere, +and another brilliant young sovereign looking out for a wife! +At last, however," Mrs. Light proceeded with incomparable gravity, +"since the overturning of the poor king of Naples and that +charming queen, and the expulsion of all those dear little +old-fashioned Italian grand-dukes, and the dreadful radical +talk that is going on all over the world, it has come to seem +to me that with Christina in such a position I should be +really very nervous. Even in such a position she would hold +her head very high, and if anything should happen to her, +she would make no concessions to the popular fury. +The best thing, if one is prudent, seems to be a nobleman of +the highest possible rank, short of belonging to a reigning stock. +There you see one striding up and down, looking at his watch, +and counting the minutes till my daughter reappears!" + +Rowland listened to all this with a huge compassion +for the heroine of the tale. What an education, +what a history, what a school of character and of morals! +He looked at the prince and wondered whether he too had +heard Mrs. Light's story. If he had he was a brave man. +"I certainly hope you 'll keep him," he said to Mrs. Light. +"You have played a dangerous game with your daughter; +it would be a pity not to win. But there is hope for you yet; +here she comes at last!" + +Christina reappeared as he spoke these words, strolling beside her +companion with the same indifferent tread with which she had departed. +Rowland imagined that there was a faint pink flush in her cheek +which she had not carried away with her, and there was certainly +a light in Roderick's eyes which he had not seen there for a week. + +"Bless my soul, how they are all looking at us!" she cried, +as they advanced. "One would think we were prisoners of +the Inquisition!" And she paused and glanced from the prince +to her mother, and from Rowland to the Cavaliere, and then +threw back her head and burst into far-ringing laughter. +"What is it, pray? Have I been very improper? Am I ruined forever? +Dear prince, you are looking at me as if I had committed +the unpardonable sin!" + +"I myself," said the prince, "would never have ventured to ask +you to walk with me alone in the country for an hour!" + +"The more fool you, dear prince, as the vulgar say! +Our walk has been charming. I hope you, on your side, +have enjoyed each other's society." + +"My dear daughter," said Mrs. Light, taking the arm of her predestined +son-in-law, "I shall have something serious to say to you when we reach home. +We will go back to the carriage." + +"Something serious! Decidedly, it is the Inquisition. +Mr. Hudson, stand firm, and let us agree to make no +confessions without conferring previously with each other! +They may put us on the rack first. Mr. Mallet, I see also," +Christina added, "has something serious to say to me!" + +Rowland had been looking at her with the shadow of his +lately-stirred pity in his eyes. "Possibly," he said. +"But it must be for some other time." + +"I am at your service. I see our good-humor is gone. +And I only wanted to be amiable! It is very discouraging. +Cavaliere, you, only, look as if you had a little of the milk +of human kindness left; from your venerable visage, at least; +there is no telling what you think. Give me your arm and +take me away!" + +The party took its course back to the carriage, which was waiting in the +grounds of the villa, and Rowland and Roderick bade their friends farewell. +Christina threw herself back in her seat and closed her eyes; +a manoeuvre for which Rowland imagined the prince was grateful, +as it enabled him to look at her without seeming to depart from his +attitude of distinguished disapproval.Rowland found himself aroused +from sleep early the next morning, to see Roderick standing before him, +dressed for departure, with his bag in his hand. "I am off," he said. +"I am back to work. I have an idea. I must strike while the iron +'s hot! Farewell!" And he departed by the first train. +Rowland went alone by the next. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VII. Saint Cecilia's + +Rowland went often to the Coliseum; he never wearied of it. +One morning, about a month after his return from Frascati, +as he was strolling across the vast arena, he observed a young +woman seated on one of the fragments of stone which are ranged +along the line of the ancient parapet. It seemed to him that +he had seen her before, but he was unable to localize her face. +Passing her again, he perceived that one of the little +red-legged French soldiers at that time on guard there had +approached her and was gallantly making himself agreeable. +She smiled brilliantly, and Rowland recognized the smile +(it had always pleased him) of a certain comely Assunta, +who sometimes opened the door for Mrs. Light's visitors. +He wondered what she was doing alone in the Coliseum, and conjectured +that Assunta had admirers as well as her young mistress, but that, +being without the same domiciliary conveniencies, she was using +this massive heritage of her Latin ancestors as a boudoir. +In other words, she had an appointment with her lover, +who had better, from present appearances, be punctual. +It was a long time since Rowland had ascended to the ruinous +upper tiers of the great circus, and, as the day was radiant +and the distant views promised to be particularly clear, +he determined to give himself the pleasure. The custodian +unlocked the great wooden wicket, and he climbed through +the winding shafts, where the eager Roman crowds had billowed +and trampled, not pausing till he reached the highest accessible +point of the ruin. The views were as fine as he had supposed; +the lights on the Sabine Mountains had never been more lovely. +He gazed to his satisfaction and retraced his steps. +In a moment he paused again on an abutment somewhat lower, +from which the glance dropped dizzily into the interior. +There are chance anfractuosities of ruin in the upper portions +of the Coliseum which offer a very fair imitation of the rugged +face of an Alpine cliff. In those days a multitude of delicate +flowers and sprays of wild herbage had found a friendly soil +in the hoary crevices, and they bloomed and nodded amid the antique +masonry as freely as they would have done in the virgin rock. +Rowland was turning away, when he heard a sound of voices +rising up from below. He had but to step slightly +forward to find himself overlooking two persons who had +seated themselves on a narrow ledge, in a sunny corner. +They had apparently had an eye to extreme privacy, but they +had not observed that their position was commanded by Rowland's +stand-point. One of these airy adventurers was a lady, +thickly veiled, so that, even if he had not been standing +directly above her, Rowland could not have seen her face. +The other was a young man, whose face was also invisible, +but who, as Rowland stood there, gave a toss of his clustering +locks which was equivalent to the signature--Roderick Hudson. +A moment's reflection, hereupon, satisfied him of the identity +of the lady. He had been unjust to poor Assunta, sitting patient +in the gloomy arena; she had not come on her own errand. +Rowland's discoveries made him hesitate. Should he retire +as noiselessly as possible, or should he call out a friendly +good morning? While he was debating the question, he found +himself distinctly hearing his friends' words. They were +of such a nature as to make him unwilling to retreat, and yet +to make it awkward to be discovered in a position where it +would be apparent that he had heard them. + +"If what you say is true," said Christina, with her usual +soft deliberateness--it made her words rise with peculiar +distinctness to Rowland's ear--"you are simply weak. I am sorry! +I hoped--I really believed--you were not." + +"No, I am not weak," answered Roderick, with vehemence; "I maintain +that I am not weak! I am incomplete, perhaps; but I can't help that. +Weakness is a man's own fault!" + +"Incomplete, then!" said Christina, with a laugh. "It 's +the same thing, so long as it keeps you from splendid achievement. +Is it written, then, that I shall really never know what I +have so often dreamed of?" + +"What have you dreamed of?" + +"A man whom I can perfectly respect!" cried the young girl, with a +sudden flame. "A man, at least, whom I can unrestrictedly admire. +I meet one, as I have met more than one before, whom I fondly believe +to be cast in a larger mould than most of the vile human breed, +to be large in character, great in talent, strong in will! +In such a man as that, I say, one's weary imagination at +last may rest; or it may wander if it will, yet never need +to wander far from the deeps where one's heart is anchored. +When I first knew you, I gave no sign, but you had struck me. +I observed you, as women observe, and I fancied you had +the sacred fire." + +"Before heaven, I believe I have!" cried Roderick. + +"Ah, but so little! It flickers and trembles and sputters; +it goes out, you tell me, for whole weeks together. +From your own account, it 's ten to one that in the long run +you 're a failure." + +"I say those things sometimes myself, but when I hear you say them +they make me feel as if I could work twenty years at a sitting, +on purpose to refute you!" + +"Ah, the man who is strong with what I call strength," +Christina replied, "would neither rise nor fall by anything I could say! +I am a poor, weak woman; I have no strength myself, and I can +give no strength. I am a miserable medley of vanity and folly. +I am silly, I am ignorant, I am affected, I am false. +I am the fruit of a horrible education, sown on a worthless soil. +I am all that, and yet I believe I have one merit! I should know +a great character when I saw it, and I should delight in it with a +generosity which would do something toward the remission of my sins. +For a man who should really give me a certain feeling-- +which I have never had, but which I should know when it came-- +I would send Prince Casamassima and his millions to perdition. +I don't know what you think of me for saying all this; I suppose +we have not climbed up here under the skies to play propriety. +Why have you been at such pains to assure me, after all, that you +are a little man and not a great one, a weak one and not a strong? +I innocently imagined that your eyes declared you were strong. +But your voice condemns you; I always wondered at it; it 's not +the voice of a conqueror!" + +"Give me something to conquer," cried Roderick, "and when I say +that I thank you from my soul, my voice, whatever you think of it, +shall speak the truth!" + +Christina for a moment said nothing. Rowland was too interested +to think of moving. "You pretend to such devotion," she went on, +"and yet I am sure you have never really chosen between me +and that person in America." + +"Do me the favor not to speak of her," said Roderick, imploringly. + +"Why not? I say no ill of her, and I think all kinds of good. +I am certain she is a far better girl than I, and far more likely +to make you happy." + +"This is happiness, this present, palpable moment," said Roderick; +"though you have such a genius for saying the things that torture me!" + +"It 's greater happiness than you deserve, then! You have never chosen, +I say; you have been afraid to choose. You have never really faced +the fact that you are false, that you have broken your faith. +You have never looked at it and seen that it was hideous, and yet said, +'No matter, I 'll brave the penalty, I 'll bear the shame!' +You have closed your eyes; you have tried to stifle remembrance, +to persuade yourself that you were not behaving as badly as you +seemed to be, and there would be some way, after all, of compassing +bliss and yet escaping trouble. You have faltered and drifted, +you have gone on from accident to accident, and I am sure that at +this present moment you can't tell what it is you really desire!" + +Roderick was sitting with his knees drawn up and bent, and his hands clapsed +around his legs. He bent his head and rested his forehead on his knees. + +Christina went on with a sort of infernal calmness: +"I believe that, really, you don't greatly care for your friend +in America any more than you do for me. You are one of the men who +care only for themselves and for what they can make of themselves. +That 's very well when they can make something great, +and I could interest myself in a man of extraordinary power +who should wish to turn all his passions to account. +But if the power should turn out to be, after all, rather ordinary? +Fancy feeling one's self ground in the mill of a third-rate talent! +If you have doubts about yourself, I can't reassure you; +I have too many doubts myself, about everything in this weary world. +You have gone up like a rocket, in your profession, they tell me; +are you going to come down like the stick? I don't pretend to know; +I repeat frankly what I have said before--that all modern +sculpture seems to me weak, and that the only things I care +for are some of the most battered of the antiques of the Vatican. +No, no, I can't reassure you; and when you tell me--with a confidence +in my discretion of which, certainly, I am duly sensible-- +that at times you feel terribly small, why, I can only answer, +'Ah, then, my poor friend, I am afraid you are small.' +The language I should like to hear, from a certain person, +would be the language of absolute decision." + +Roderick raised his head, but he said nothing; he seemed +to be exchanging a long glance with his companion. +The result of it was to make him fling himself back with an +inarticulate murmur. Rowland, admonished by the silence, +was on the point of turning away, but he was arrested by a gesture +of the young girl. She pointed for a moment into the blue air. +Roderick followed the direction of her gesture. + +"Is that little flower we see outlined against that dark niche," +she asked, "as intensely blue as it looks through my veil?" +She spoke apparently with the amiable design of directing +the conversation into a less painful channel. + +Rowland, from where he stood, could see the flower she meant-- +a delicate plant of radiant hue, which sprouted from the top of an +immense fragment of wall some twenty feet from Christina's place. + +Roderick turned his head and looked at it without answering. +At last, glancing round, "Put up your veil!" he said. +Christina complied. "Does it look as blue now?" he asked. + +"Ah, what a lovely color!" she murmured, leaning her head on one side. + +"Would you like to have it?" + +She stared a moment and then broke into a light laugh. + +"Would you like to have it?" he repeated in a ringing voice. + +"Don't look as if you would eat me up," she answered. +"It 's harmless if I say yes!" + +Roderick rose to his feet and stood looking at the little flower. +It was separated from the ledge on which he stood by a rugged surface +of vertical wall, which dropped straight into the dusky vaults behind +the arena. Suddenly he took off his hat and flung it behind him. +Christina then sprang to her feet. + +"I will bring it you," he said. + +She seized his arm. "Are you crazy? Do you mean to kill yourself?" + +"I shall not kill myself. Sit down!" + +"Excuse me. Not till you do!" And she grasped his arm with both hands. + +Roderick shook her off and pointed with a violent gesture +to her former place. "Go there!" he cried fiercely. + +"You can never, never!" she murmured beseechingly, clasping her hands. +"I implore you!" + +Roderick turned and looked at her, and then in a voice which Rowland +had never heard him use, a voice almost thunderous, a voice which +awakened the echoes of the mighty ruin, he repeated, "Sit down!" +She hesitated a moment and then she dropped on the ground and buried +her face in her hands. + +Rowland had seen all this, and he saw more. He saw Roderick +clasp in his left arm the jagged corner of the vertical +partition along which he proposed to pursue his crazy journey, +stretch out his leg, and feel for a resting-place for his foot. +Rowland had measured with a glance the possibility of his +sustaining himself, and pronounced it absolutely nil. +The wall was garnished with a series of narrow projections, +the remains apparently of a brick cornice supporting +the arch of a vault which had long since collapsed. +It was by lodging his toes on these loose brackets and +grasping with his hands at certain mouldering protuberances +on a level with his head, that Roderick intended to proceed. +The relics of the cornice were utterly worthless as a support. +Rowland had observed this, and yet, for a moment, he had hesitated. +If the thing were possible, he felt a sudden admiring glee at +the thought of Roderick's doing it. It would be finely done, +it would be gallant, it would have a sort of masculine +eloquence as an answer to Christina's sinister persiflage. +But it was not possible! Rowland left his place with a bound, +and scrambled down some neighboring steps, and the next +moment a stronger pair of hands than Christina's were laid +upon Roderick's shoulder. + +He turned, staring, pale and angry. Christina rose, +pale and staring, too, but beautiful in her wonder and alarm. +"My dear Roderick," said Rowland, "I am only preventing you +from doing a very foolish thing. That 's an exploit for spiders, +not for young sculptors of promise." + +Roderick wiped his forehead, looked back at the wall, and then +closed his eyes, as if with a spasm, of retarded dizziness. +"I won't resist you," he said. "But I have made you obey," +he added, turning to Christina. "Am I weak now?" + +She had recovered her composure; she looked straight past him +and addressed Rowland: "Be so good as to show me the way +out of this horrible place!" + +He helped her back into the corridor; Roderick followed after +a short interval. Of course, as they were descending the steps, +came questions for Rowland to answer, and more or less surprise. +Where had he come from? how happened he to have appeared at just that moment? +Rowland answered that he had been rambling overhead, and that, +looking out of an aperture, he had seen a gentleman preparing to undertake +a preposterous gymnastic feat, and a lady swooning away in consequence. +Interference seemed justifiable, and he had made it as prompt as possible. +Roderick was far from hanging his head, like a man who has been caught +in the perpetration of an extravagant folly; but if he held it more +erect than usual Rowland believed that this was much less because +he had made a show of personal daring than because he had triumphantly +proved to Christina that, like a certain person she had dreamed of, +he too could speak the language of decision. Christina descended +to the arena in silence, apparently occupied with her own thoughts. +She betrayed no sense of the privacy of her interview with Roderick +needing an explanation. Rowland had seen stranger things in New York! +The only evidence of her recent agitation was that, on being joined +by her maid, she declared that she was unable to walk home; she must +have a carriage. A fiacre was found resting in the shadow of the Arch +of Constantine, and Rowland suspected that after she had got into it +she disburdened herself, under her veil, of a few natural tears. + +Rowland had played eavesdropper to so good a purpose that he might +justly have omitted the ceremony of denouncing himself to Roderick. +He preferred, however, to let him know that he had overheard a portion +of his talk with Christina. + +"Of course it seems to you," Roderick said, "a proof that I +am utterly infatuated." + +"Miss Light seemed to me to know very well how far she could go," +Rowland answered. "She was twisting you round her finger. +I don't think she exactly meant to defy you; but your crazy +pursuit of that flower was a proof that she could go all lengths +in the way of making a fool of you." + +"Yes," said Roderick, meditatively; "she is making a fool of me." + +"And what do you expect to come of it?" + +"Nothing good!" And Roderick put his hands into his pockets and looked +as if he had announced the most colorless fact in the world. + +"And in the light of your late interview, what do you make +of your young lady?" + +"If I could tell you that, it would be plain sailing. +But she 'll not tell me again I am weak!" + +"Are you very sure you are not weak?" + +"I may be, but she shall never know it." + +Rowland said no more until they reached the Corso, when he asked +his companion whether he was going to his studio. + +Roderick started out of a reverie and passed his hands over his eyes. +"Oh no, I can't settle down to work after such a scene as that. +I was not afraid of breaking my neck then, but I feel all in a tremor now. +I will go--I will go and sit in the sun on the Pincio!" + +"Promise me this, first," said Rowland, very solemnly: +"that the next time you meet Miss Light, it shall be on the earth +and not in the air." + +Since his return from Frascati, Roderick had been working +doggedly at the statue ordered by Mr. Leavenworth. +To Rowland's eye he had made a very fair beginning, +but he had himself insisted, from the first, that he liked +neither his subject nor his patron, and that it was impossible +to feel any warmth of interest in a work which was to be +incorporated into the ponderous personality of Mr. Leavenworth. +It was all against the grain; he wrought without love. +Nevertheless after a fashion he wrought, and the figure grew +beneath his hands. Miss Blanchard's friend was ordering works +of art on every side, and his purveyors were in many cases +persons whom Roderick declared it was infamy to be paired with. +There had been grand tailors, he said, who declined to make +you a coat unless you got the hat you were to wear with it +from an artist of their own choosing. It seemed to him +that he had an equal right to exact that his statue should +not form part of the same system of ornament as the "Pearl +of Perugia," a picture by an American confrere who had, +in Mr. Leavenworth's opinion, a prodigious eye for color. +As a customer, Mr. Leavenworth used to drop into Roderick's studio, +to see how things were getting on, and give a friendly hint or so. +He would seat himself squarely, plant his gold-topped cane +between his legs, which he held very much apart, rest his +large white hands on the head, and enunciate the principles +of spiritual art, as he hoisted them one by one, as you +might say, out of the depths of his moral consciousness. +His benignant and imperturbable pomposity gave Roderick the sense +of suffocating beneath a large fluffy bolster, and the worst +of the matter was that the good gentleman's placid vanity had +an integument whose toughness no sarcastic shaft could pierce. +Roderick admitted that in thinking over the tribulations +of struggling genius, the danger of dying of over-patronage +had never occurred to him. + +The deterring effect of the episode of the Coliseum was +apparently of long continuance; if Roderick's nerves had been +shaken his hand needed time to recover its steadiness. +He cultivated composure upon principles of his own; by frequenting +entertainments from which he returned at four o'clock in the morning, +and lapsing into habits which might fairly be called irregular. +He had hitherto made few friends among the artistic fraternity; +chiefly because he had taken no trouble about it, and there was in his +demeanor an elastic independence of the favor of his fellow-mortals +which made social advances on his own part peculiarly necessary. +Rowland had told him more than once that he ought to fraternize +a trifle more with the other artists, and he had always answered +that he had not the smallest objection to fraternizing: +let them come! But they came on rare occasions, and Roderick +was not punctilious about returning their visits. He declared +there was not one of them whose works gave him the smallest +desire to make acquaintance with the insides of their heads. +For Gloriani he professed a superb contempt, and, having been +once to look at his wares, never crossed his threshold again. +The only one of the fraternity for whom by his own admission +he cared a straw was little Singleton; but he expressed his regard +only in a kind of sublime hilarity whenever he encountered this +humble genius, and quite forgot his existence in the intervals. +He had never been to see him, but Singleton edged his way, from time +to time, timidly, into Roderick's studio, and agreed with characteristic +modesty that brilliant fellows like the sculptor might consent +to receive homage, but could hardly be expected to render it. +Roderick never exactly accepted homage, and apparently did not quite +observe whether poor Singleton spoke in admiration or in blame. +Roderick's taste as to companions was singularly capricious. +There were very good fellows, who were disposed to cultivate him, +who bored him to death; and there were others, in whom even Rowland's +good-nature was unable to discover a pretext for tolerance, +in whom he appeared to find the highest social qualities. +He used to give the most fantastic reasons for his likes and dislikes. +He would declare he could n't speak a civil word to a man +who brushed his hair in a certain fashion, and he would explain +his unaccountable fancy for an individual of imperceptible merit +by telling you that he had an ancestor who in the thirteenth +century had walled up his wife alive. "I like to talk to a man +whose ancestor has walled up his wife alive," he would say. +"You may not see the fun of it, and think poor P---- is a very +dull fellow. It 's very possible; I don't ask you to admire him. +But, for reasons of my own, I like to have him about. +The old fellow left her for three days with her face uncovered, +and placed a long mirror opposite to her, so that she could see, +as he said, if her gown was a fit!" + +His relish for an odd flavor in his friends had led him to make +the acquaintance of a number of people outside of Rowland's +well-ordered circle, and he made no secret of their being very queer fish. +He formed an intimacy, among others, with a crazy fellow who had come +to Rome as an emissary of one of the Central American republics, +to drive some ecclesiastical bargain with the papal government. +The Pope had given him the cold shoulder, but since he had not +prospered as a diplomatist, he had sought compensation as a man +of the world, and his great flamboyant curricle and negro lackeys +were for several weeks one of the striking ornaments of the Pincian. +He spoke a queer jargon of Italian, Spanish, French, and English, +humorously relieved with scraps of ecclesiastical Latin, +and to those who inquired of Roderick what he found to interest +him in such a fantastic jackanapes, the latter would reply, +looking at his interlocutor with his lucid blue eyes, that it +was worth any sacrifice to hear him talk nonsense! The two had +gone together one night to a ball given by a lady of some renown +in the Spanish colony, and very late, on his way home, Roderick came +up to Rowland's rooms, in whose windows he had seen a light. +Rowland was going to bed, but Roderick flung himself into an armchair +and chattered for an hour. The friends of the Costa Rican envoy +were as amusing as himself, and in very much the same line. +The mistress of the house had worn a yellow satin dress, and gold +heels to her slippers, and at the close of the entertainment had +sent for a pair of castanets, tucked up her petticoats, and danced +a fandango, while the gentlemen sat cross-legged on the floor. +"It was awfully low," Roderick said; "all of a sudden I perceived it, +and bolted. Nothing of that kind ever amuses me to the end: +before it 's half over it bores me to death; it makes me sick. +Hang it, why can't a poor fellow enjoy things in peace? +My illusions are all broken-winded; they won't carry me twenty paces! +I can't laugh and forget; my laugh dies away before it begins. +Your friend Stendhal writes on his book-covers (I never got farther) +that he has seen too early in life la beaute parfaite. +I don't know how early he saw it; I saw it before I was born-- +in another state of being! I can't describe it positively; +I can only say I don't find it anywhere now. Not at the bottom of +champagne glasses; not, strange as it may seem, in that extra half-yard +or so of shoulder that some women have their ball-dresses cut to expose. +I don't find it at merry supper-tables, where half a dozen ugly men +with pomatumed heads are rapidly growing uglier still with heat and wine; +not when I come away and walk through these squalid black streets, +and go out into the Forum and see a few old battered stone +posts standing there like gnawed bones stuck into the earth. +Everything is mean and dusky and shabby, and the men and women who make up +this so-called brilliant society are the meanest and shabbiest of all. +They have no real spontaneity; they are all cowards and popinjays. +They have no more dignity than so many grasshoppers. Nothing is good +but one!" And he jumped up and stood looking at one of his statues, +which shone vaguely across the room in the dim lamplight. + +"Yes, do tell us," said Rowland, "what to hold on by!" + +"Those things of mine were tolerably good," he answered. +"But my idea was better--and that 's what I mean!" + +Rowland said nothing. He was willing to wait for Roderick to complete +the circle of his metamorphoses, but he had no desire to officiate +as chorus to the play. If Roderick chose to fish in troubled waters, +he must land his prizes himself. + +"You think I 'm an impudent humbug," the latter said at last, +"coming up to moralize at this hour of the night. You think I +want to throw dust into your eyes, to put you off the scent. +That 's your eminently rational view of the case." + +"Excuse me from taking any view at all," said Rowland. + +"You have given me up, then?" + +"No, I have merely suspended judgment. I am waiting." + +"You have ceased then positively to believe in me?" + +Rowland made an angry gesture. "Oh, cruel boy! When you +have hit your mark and made people care for you, you should +n't twist your weapon about at that rate in their vitals. +Allow me to say I am sleepy. Good night!" + +Some days afterward it happened that Rowland, on a long afternoon ramble, +took his way through one of the quiet corners of the Trastevere. +He was particularly fond of this part of Rome, though he could +hardly have expressed the charm he found in it. As you pass +away from the dusky, swarming purlieus of the Ghetto, you emerge +into a region of empty, soundless, grass-grown lanes and alleys, +where the shabby houses seem mouldering away in disuse, and yet your +footstep brings figures of startling Roman type to the doorways. +There are few monuments here, but no part of Rome seemed +more historic, in the sense of being weighted with a crushing past, +blighted with the melancholy of things that had had their day. +When the yellow afternoon sunshine slept on the sallow, battered walls, +and lengthened the shadows in the grassy courtyards of small +closed churches, the place acquired a strange fascination. +The church of Saint Cecilia has one of these sunny, +waste-looking courts; the edifice seems abandoned to silence +and the charity of chance devotion. Rowland never passed it +without going in, and he was generally the only visitor. +He entered it now, but found that two persons had preceded him. +Both were women. One was at her prayers at one of the side altars; +the other was seated against a column at the upper end of the nave. +Rowland walked to the altar, and paid, in a momentary glance at +the clever statue of the saint in death, in the niche beneath it, +the usual tribute to the charm of polished ingenuity. As he turned +away he looked at the person seated and recognized Christina Light. +Seeing that she perceived him, he advanced to speak to her. + +She was sitting in a listless attitude, with her hands in her lap; +she seemed to be tired. She was dressed simply, as if for walking +and escaping observation. When he had greeted her he glanced back +at her companion, and recognized the faithful Assunta. + +Christina smiled. "Are you looking for Mr. Hudson? +He is not here, I am happy to say." + +"But you?" he asked. "This is a strange place to find you." + +"Not at all! People call me a strange girl, and I might as well +have the comfort of it. I came to take a walk; that, by the way, +is part of my strangeness. I can't loll all the morning on a sofa, +and all the afternoon in a carriage. I get horribly restless. +I must move; I must do something and see something. Mamma suggests +a cup of tea. Meanwhile I put on an old dress and half a dozen veils, +I take Assunta under my arm, and we start on a pedestrian tour. +It 's a bore that I can't take the poodle, but he attracts attention. +We trudge about everywhere; there is nothing I like so much. +I hope you will congratulate me on the simplicity of my tastes." + +"I congratulate you on your wisdom. To live in Rome and not to walk would, +I think, be poor pleasure. But you are terribly far from home, and I am +afraid you are tired." + +"A little--enough to sit here a while." + +"Might I offer you my company while you rest?" + +"If you will promise to amuse me. I am in dismal spirits." + +Rowland said he would do what he could, and brought a chair and placed +it near her. He was not in love with her; he disapproved of her; +he mistrusted her; and yet he felt it a kind of privilege to +watch her, and he found a peculiar excitement in talking to her. +The background of her nature, as he would have called it, was large +and mysterious, and it emitted strange, fantastic gleams and flashes. +Watching for these rather quickened one's pulses. Moreover, it was +not a disadvantage to talk to a girl who made one keep guard on +one's composure; it diminished one's chronic liability to utter +something less than revised wisdom. + +Assunta had risen from her prayers, and, as he took his place, +was coming back to her mistress. But Christina motioned her away. +"No, no; while you are about it, say a few dozen more!" she said. +"Pray for me," she added in English. "Pray, I say nothing silly. +She has been at it half an hour; I envy her capacity!" + +"Have you never felt in any degree," Rowland asked, +"the fascination of Catholicism?" + +"Yes, I have been through that, too! There was a time when I +wanted immensely to be a nun; it was not a laughing matter. +It was when I was about sixteen years old. I read the Imitation +and the Life of Saint Catherine. I fully believed in the miracles +of the saints, and I was dying to have one of my own. +The least little accident that could have been twisted into a miracle +would have carried me straight into the bosom of the church. +I had the real religious passion. It has passed away, and, as I +sat here just now, I was wondering what had become of it!" + +Rowland had already been sensible of something in this young lady's tone +which he would have called a want of veracity, and this epitome of her +religious experience failed to strike him as an absolute statement of fact. +But the trait was not disagreeable, for she herself was evidently +the foremost dupe of her inventions. She had a fictitious history in +which she believed much more fondly than in her real one, and an infinite +capacity for extemporized reminiscence adapted to the mood of the hour. +She liked to idealize herself, to take interesting and picturesque +attitudes to her own imagination; and the vivacity and spontaneity +of her character gave her, really, a starting-point in experience; +so that the many-colored flowers of fiction which blossomed in her talk +were not so much perversions, as sympathetic exaggerations, of fact. +And Rowland felt that whatever she said of herself might have been, +under the imagined circumstances; impulse was there, audacity, the restless, +questioning temperament. "I am afraid I am sadly prosaic," he said, +"for in these many months now that I have been in Rome, I have never +ceased for a moment to look at Catholicism simply from the outside. +I don't see an opening as big as your finger-nail where I could +creep into it!" + +"What do you believe?" asked Christina, looking at him. +"Are you religious?" + +"I believe in God." + +Christina let her beautiful eyes wander a while, and then gave a little sigh. +"You are much to be envied!" + +"You, I imagine, in that line have nothing to envy me." + +"Yes, I have. Rest!" + +"You are too young to say that." + +"I am not young; I have never been young! My mother took care of that. +I was a little wrinkled old woman at ten." + +"I am afraid," said Rowland, in a moment, "that you are fond +of painting yourself in dark colors." + +She looked at him a while in silence. "Do you wish," +she demanded at last, "to win my eternal gratitude? +Prove to me that I am better than I suppose." + +"I should have first to know what you really suppose." + +She shook her head. "It would n't do. You would be horrified +to learn even the things I imagine about myself, and shocked +at the knowledge of evil displayed in my very mistakes." + +"Well, then," said Rowland, "I will ask no questions. But, at a venture, +I promise you to catch you some day in the act of doing something very good." + +"Can it be, can it be," she asked, "that you too are trying +to flatter me? I thought you and I had fallen, from the first, +into rather a truth-speaking vein." + +"Oh, I have not abandoned it!" said Rowland; and he determined, +since he had the credit of homely directness, to push +his advantage farther. The opportunity seemed excellent. +But while he was hesitating as to just how to begin, the young +girl said, bending forward and clasping her hands in her lap, +"Please tell me about your religion." + +"Tell you about it? I can't!" said Rowland, with a good deal of emphasis. + +She flushed a little. "Is it such a mighty mystery it cannot +be put into words, nor communicated to my base ears?" + +"It is simply a sentiment that makes part of my life, and I can't +detach myself from it sufficiently to talk about it." + +"Religion, it seems to me, should be eloquent and aggressive. +It should wish to make converts, to persuade and illumine, +to sway all hearts!" + +"One's religion takes the color of one's general disposition. +I am not aggressive, and certainly I am not eloquent." + +"Beware, then, of finding yourself confronted with doubt and despair! +I am sure that doubt, at times, and the bitterness that comes of it, +can be terribly eloquent. To tell the truth, my lonely musings, +before you came in, were eloquent enough, in their way. What do you +know of anything but this strange, terrible world that surrounds you? +How do you know that your faith is not a mere crazy castle in the air; +one of those castles that we are called fools for building when we +lodge them in this life?" + +"I don't know it, any more than any one knows the contrary. +But one's religion is extremely ingenious in doing without knowledge." + +"In such a world as this it certainly needs to be!" + +Rowland smiled. "What is your particular quarrel with this world?" + +"It 's a general quarrel. Nothing is true, or fixed, or permanent. +We all seem to be playing with shadows more or less grotesque. +It all comes over me here so dismally! The very atmosphere of this cold, +deserted church seems to mock at one's longing to believe in something. +Who cares for it now? who comes to it? who takes it seriously? +Poor stupid Assunta there gives in her adhesion in a jargon she does +n't understand, and you and I, proper, passionless tourists, come lounging +in to rest from a walk. And yet the Catholic church was once the proudest +institution in the world, and had quite its own way with men's souls. +When such a mighty structure as that turns out to have a flaw, +what faith is one to put in one's poor little views and philosophies? +What is right and what is wrong? What is one really to care for? +What is the proper rule of life? I am tired of trying to discover, +and I suspect it 's not worth the trouble. Live as most amuses you!" + +"Your perplexities are so terribly comprehensive," said Rowland, +smiling, "that one hardly knows where to meet them first." + +"I don't care much for anything you can say, because it 's sure +to be half-hearted. You are not in the least contented, yourself." + +"How do you know that?" + +"Oh, I am an observer!" + +"No one is absolutely contented, I suppose, but I assure you +I complain of nothing." + +"So much the worse for your honesty. To begin with, you are in love." + +"You would not have me complain of that!" + +"And it does n't go well. There are grievous obstacles. +So much I know! You need n't protest; I ask no questions. +You will tell no one--me least of all. Why does one never see you?" + +"Why, if I came to see you," said Rowland, deliberating, "it would +n't be, it could n't be, for a trivial reason--because I had not +been in a month, because I was passing, because I admire you. +It would be because I should have something very particular to say. +I have not come, because I have been slow in making up my mind +to say it." + +"You are simply cruel. Something particular, in this ocean of inanities? +In common charity, speak!" + +"I doubt whether you will like it." + +"Oh, I hope to heaven it 's not a compliment!" + +"It may be called a compliment to your reasonableness. +You perhaps remember that I gave you a hint of it the other +day at Frascati." + +"Has it been hanging fire all this time? Explode! I promise +not to stop my ears." + +"It relates to my friend Hudson." And Rowland paused. +She was looking at him expectantly; her face gave no sign. +"I am rather disturbed in mind about him. He seems to me +at times to be in an unpromising way." He paused again, +but Christina said nothing. "The case is simply this," +he went on. "It was by my advice he renounced his career at +home and embraced his present one. I made him burn his ships. +I brought him to Rome, I launched him in the world, and I +stand surety, in a measure, to--to his mother, for his prosperity. +It is not such smooth sailing as it might be, and I am inclined +to put up prayers for fair winds. If he is to succeed, +he must work--quietly, devotedly. It is not news to you, +I imagine, that Hudson is a great admirer of yours." + +Christina remained silent; she turned away her eyes +with an air, not of confusion, but of deep deliberation. +Surprising frankness had, as a general thing, struck Rowland +as the key-note of her character, but she had more than once +given him a suggestion of an unfathomable power of calculation, +and her silence now had something which it is hardly extravagant +to call portentous. He had of course asked himself how far +it was questionable taste to inform an unprotected girl, +for the needs of a cause, that another man admired her; +the thing, superficially, had an uncomfortable analogy with the +shrewdness that uses a cat's paw and lets it risk being singed. +But he decided that even rigid discretion is not bound to take +a young lady at more than her own valuation, and Christina +presently reassured him as to the limits of her susceptibility. +"Mr. Hudson is in love with me!" she said. + +Rowland flinched a trifle. Then--"Am I," he asked, "from this +point of view of mine, to be glad or sorry?" + +"I don't understand you." + +"Why, is Hudson to be happy, or unhappy?" + +She hesitated a moment. "You wish him to be great in his profession? +And for that you consider that he must be happy in his life?" + +"Decidedly. I don't say it 's a general rule, but I think it +is a rule for him." + +"So that if he were very happy, he would become very great?" + +"He would at least do himself justice." + +"And by that you mean a great deal?" + +"A great deal." + +Christina sank back in her chair and rested her eyes +on the cracked and polished slabs of the pavement. +At last, looking up, "You have not forgotten, I suppose, +that you told me he was engaged?" + +"By no means." + +"He is still engaged, then?" + +"To the best of my belief." + +"And yet you desire that, as you say, he should be made happy +by something I can do for him?" + +"What I desire is this. That your great influence with him should be exerted +for his good, that it should help him and not retard him. Understand me. +You probably know that your lovers have rather a restless time of it. +I can answer for two of them. You don't know your own mind very well, +I imagine, and you like being admired, rather at the expense of the admirer. +Since we are really being frank, I wonder whether I might not say +the great word." + +"You need n't; I know it. I am a horrible coquette." + +"No, not a horrible one, since I am making an appeal to your generosity. +I am pretty sure you cannot imagine yourself marrying my friend." + +"There 's nothing I cannot imagine! That is my trouble." + +Rowland's brow contracted impatiently. "I cannot imagine +it, then!" he affirmed. + +Christina flushed faintly; then, very gently, "I am not so bad +as you think," she said. + +"It is not a question of badness; it is a question of whether circumstances +don't make the thing an extreme improbability." + +"Worse and worse. I can be bullied, then, or bribed!" + +"You are not so candid," said Rowland, "as you pretend to be. +My feeling is this. Hudson, as I understand him, does not need, +as an artist, the stimulus of strong emotion, of passion. +He's better without it; he's emotional and passionate enough +when he 's left to himself. The sooner passion is at rest, +therefore, the sooner he will settle down to work, and the fewer +emotions he has that are mere emotions and nothing more, +the better for him. If you cared for him enough to marry him, +I should have nothing to say; I would never venture to interfere. +But I strongly suspect you don't, and therefore I would suggest, +most respectfully, that you should let him alone." + +"And if I let him alone, as you say, all will be well with him +for ever more?" + +"Not immediately and not absolutely, but things will be easier. +He will be better able to concentrate himself." + +"What is he doing now? Wherein does he dissatisfy you?" + +"I can hardly say. He 's like a watch that 's running down. +He is moody, desultory, idle, irregular, fantastic." + +"Heavens, what a list! And it 's all poor me?" + +"No, not all. But you are a part of it, and I turn to you because you +are a more tangible, sensible, responsible cause than the others." + +Christina raised her hand to her eyes, and bent her head thoughtfully. +Rowland was puzzled to measure the effect of his venture; she rather surprised +him by her gentleness. At last, without moving, "If I were to marry him," +she asked, "what would have become of his fianc; aaee?" + +"I am bound to suppose that she would be extremely unhappy." + +Christina said nothing more, and Rowland, to let her make +her reflections, left his place and strolled away. +Poor Assunta, sitting patiently on a stone bench, and unprovided, +on this occasion, with military consolation, gave him a bright, +frank smile, which might have been construed as an expression +of regret for herself, and of sympathy for her mistress. +Rowland presently seated himself again near Christina. + +"What do you think," she asked, looking at him, "of your friend's infidelity?" + +"I don't like it." + +"Was he very much in love with her?" + +"He asked her to marry him. You may judge." + +"Is she rich?" + +"No, she is poor." + +"Is she very much in love with him?" + +"I know her too little to say." + +She paused again, and then resumed: "You have settled in +your mind, then, that I will never seriously listen to him?" + +"I think it unlikely, until the contrary is proved." + +"How shall it be proved? How do you know what passes between us?" + +"I can judge, of course, but from appearance; but, like you, I am +an observer. Hudson has not at all the air of a prosperous suitor." + +"If he is depressed, there is a reason. He has a bad conscience. +One must hope so, at least. On the other hand, simply as a friend," +she continued gently, "you think I can do him no good?" + +The humility of her tone, combined with her beauty, as she +made this remark, was inexpressibly touching, and Rowland +had an uncomfortable sense of being put at a disadvantage. +"There are doubtless many good things you might do, if you had +proper opportunity," he said. "But you seem to be sailing with a +current which leaves you little leisure for quiet benevolence. +You live in the whirl and hurry of a world into which a poor +artist can hardly find it to his advantage to follow you." + +"In plain English, I am hopelessly frivolous. You put it very generously." + +"I won't hesitate to say all my thought," said Rowland. +"For better or worse, you seem to me to belong, both by +character and by circumstance, to what is called the world, +the great world. You are made to ornament it magnificently. +You are not made to be an artist's wife." + +"I see. But even from your point of view, that would depend upon the artist. +Extraordinary talent might make him a member of the great world!" + +Rowland smiled. "That is very true." + +"If, as it is," Christina continued in a moment, "you take a low view +of me--no, you need n't protest--I wonder what you would think if you +knew certain things." + +"What things do you mean?" + +"Well, for example, how I was brought up. I have had a horrible education. +There must be some good in me, since I have perceived it, since I have turned +and judged my circumstances." + +"My dear Miss Light!" Rowland murmured. + +She gave a little, quick laugh. "You don't want to hear? you +don't want to have to think about that?" + +"Have I a right to? You need n't justify yourself." + +She turned upon him a moment the quickened light of her beautiful eyes, +then fell to musing again. "Is there not some novel or some play," +she asked at last, "in which some beautiful, wicked woman who has ensnared +a young man sees his father come to her and beg her to let him go?" + +"Very likely," said Rowland. "I hope she consents." + +"I forget. But tell me," she continued, "shall you consider-- +admitting your proposition--that in ceasing to flirt with Mr. Hudson, +so that he may go about his business, I do something magnanimous, +heroic, sublime--something with a fine name like that?" + +Rowland, elated with the prospect of gaining his point, was about +to reply that she would deserve the finest name in the world; +but he instantly suspected that this tone would not please her, +and, besides, it would not express his meaning. + +"You do something I shall greatly respect," he contented himself with saying. + +She made no answer, and in a moment she beckoned to her maid. +"What have I to do to-day?" she asked. + +Assunta meditated. "Eh, it 's a very busy day! Fortunately I have +a better memory than the signorina," she said, turning to Rowland. +She began to count on her fingers. "We have to go to the Pie di Marmo to see +about those laces that were sent to be washed. You said also that you +wished to say three sharp words to the Buonvicini about your pink dress. +You want some moss-rosebuds for to-night, and you won't get them for nothing! +You dine at the Austrian Embassy, and that Frenchman is to powder your hair. +You 're to come home in time to receive, for the signora gives a dance. +And so away, away till morning!" + +"Ah, yes, the moss-roses!" Christina murmured, caressingly. +"I must have a quantity--at least a hundred. Nothing but buds, eh? +You must sew them in a kind of immense apron, down the front of my dress. +Packed tight together, eh? It will be delightfully barbarous. +And then twenty more or so for my hair. They go very well +with powder; don't you think so?" And she turned to Rowland. +"I am going en Pompadour." + +"Going where?" + +"To the Spanish Embassy, or whatever it is." + +"All down the front, signorina? Dio buono! You must give me time!" +Assunta cried. + +"Yes, we'll go!" And she left her place. She walked +slowly to the door of the church, looking at the pavement, +and Rowland could not guess whether she was thinking of her apron +of moss-rosebuds or of her opportunity for moral sublimity. +Before reaching the door she turned away and stood gazing at +an old picture, indistinguishable with blackness, over an altar. +At last they passed out into the court. Glancing at her in +the open air, Rowland was startled; he imagined he saw the traces +of hastily suppressed tears. They had lost time, she said, +and they must hurry; she sent Assunta to look for a fiacre. +She remained silent a while, scratching the ground with +the point of her parasol, and then at last, looking up, +she thanked Rowland for his confidence in her "reasonableness." +"It 's really very comfortable to be asked, to be expected, +to do something good, after all the horrid things one has +been used to doing--instructed, commanded, forced to do! +I 'll think over what you have said to me." In that deserted +quarter fiacres are rare, and there was some delay in +Assunta's procuring one. Christina talked of the church, +of the picturesque old court, of that strange, decaying corner +of Rome. Rowland was perplexed; he was ill at ease. +At last the fiacre arrived, but she waited a moment longer. +"So, decidedly," she suddenly asked, "I can only harm him?" + +"You make me feel very brutal," said Rowland. + +"And he is such a fine fellow that it would be really a great pity, eh?" + +"I shall praise him no more," Rowland said. + +She turned away quickly, but she lingered still. +"Do you remember promising me, soon after we first met, +that at the end of six months you would tell me definitely +what you thought of me?" + +"It was a foolish promise." + +"You gave it. Bear it in mind. I will think of what you have said +to me. Farewell." She stepped into the carriage, and it rolled away. +Rowland stood for some minutes, looking after it, and then +went his way with a sigh. If this expressed general mistrust, +he ought, three days afterward, to have been reassured. +He received by the post a note containing these words:-- + + "I have done it. Begin and respect me! + + --C. L." + +To be perfectly satisfactory, indeed, the note required a commentary. +He called that evening upon Roderick, and found one in the information +offered him at the door, by the old serving-woman--the startling +information that the signorino had gone to Naples. + + + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. Provocation + +About a month later, Rowland addressed to his cousin Cecilia +a letter of which the following is a portion:-- + +...."So much for myself; yet I tell you but a tithe of my own +story unless I let you know how matters stand with poor Hudson, +for he gives me more to think about just now than anything else +in the world. I need a good deal of courage to begin this chapter. +You warned me, you know, and I made rather light of your warning. +I have had all kinds of hopes and fears, but hitherto, +in writing to you, I have resolutely put the hopes foremost. +Now, however, my pride has forsaken me, and I should like hugely +to give expression to a little comfortable despair. I should +like to say, 'My dear wise woman, you were right and I was wrong; +you were a shrewd observer and I was a meddlesome donkey!' +When I think of a little talk we had about the 'salubrity of genius,' +I feel my ears tingle. If this is salubrity, give me raging disease! +I 'm pestered to death; I go about with a chronic heartache; +there are moments when I could shed salt tears. There 's +a pretty portrait of the most placid of men! I wish I could +make you understand; or rather, I wish you could make me! +I don't understand a jot; it 's a hideous, mocking mystery; +I give it up! I don't in the least give it up, you know; +I 'm incapable of giving it up. I sit holding my head by the hour, +racking my brain, wondering what under heaven is to be done. +You told me at Northampton that I took the thing too easily; +you would tell me now, perhaps, that I take it too hard. +I do, altogether; but it can't be helped. Without flattering myself, +I may say I 'm sympathetic. Many another man before this +would have cast his perplexities to the winds and declared +that Mr. Hudson must lie on his bed as he had made it. +Some men, perhaps, would even say that I am making a mighty +ado about nothing; that I have only to give him rope, +and he will tire himself out. But he tugs at his rope +altogether too hard for me to hold it comfortably. +I certainly never pretended the thing was anything else than +an experiment; I promised nothing, I answered for nothing; +I only said the case was hopeful, and that it would be a shame +to neglect it. I have done my best, and if the machine is +running down I have a right to stand aside and let it scuttle. +Amen, amen! No, I can write that, but I can't feel it. +I can't be just; I can only be generous. I love the poor +fellow and I can't give him up. As for understanding him, +that 's another matter; nowadays I don't believe even you would. +One's wits are sadly pestered over here, I assure you, +and I 'm in the way of seeing more than one puzzling specimen +of human nature. Roderick and Miss Light, between them!.... +Have n't I already told you about Miss Light? Last winter +everything was perfection. Roderick struck out bravely, +did really great things, and proved himself, as I supposed, +thoroughly solid. He was strong, he was first-rate; +I felt perfectly secure and sang private paeans of joy. +We had passed at a bound into the open sea, and left danger behind. +But in the summer I began to be puzzled, though I succeeded +in not being alarmed. When we came back to Rome, however, I saw +that the tide had turned and that we were close upon the rocks. +It is, in fact, another case of Ulysses alongside of the Sirens; +only Roderick refuses to be tied to the mast. He is the most +extraordinary being, the strangest mixture of qualities. +I don't understand so much force going with so much weakness-- +such a brilliant gift being subject to such lapses. +The poor fellow is incomplete, and it is really not his +own fault; Nature has given him the faculty out of hand +and bidden him be hanged with it. I never knew a man harder +to advise or assist, if he is not in the mood for listening. +I suppose there is some key or other to his character, +but I try in vain to find it; and yet I can't believe +that Providence is so cruel as to have turned the lock and +thrown the key away. He perplexes me, as I say, to death, +and though he tires out my patience, he still fascinates me. +Sometimes I think he has n't a grain of conscience, +and sometimes I think that, in a way, he has an excess. +He takes things at once too easily and too hard; he is both +too lax and too tense, too reckless and too ambitious, +too cold and too passionate. He has developed faster even +than you prophesied, and for good and evil alike he takes +up a formidable space. There 's too much of him for me, +at any rate. Yes, he is hard; there is no mistake about that. +He 's inflexible, he 's brittle; and though he has plenty +of spirit, plenty of soul, he has n't what I call a heart. +He has something that Miss Garland took for one, and I 'm pretty +sure she 's a judge. But she judged on scanty evidence. +He has something that Christina Light, here, makes believe +at times that she takes for one, but she is no judge at all! +I think it is established that, in the long run, egotism makes +a failure in conduct: is it also true that it makes a failure +in the arts?.... Roderick's standard is immensely high; +I must do him that justice. He will do nothing beneath it, +and while he is waiting for inspiration, his imagination, +his nerves, his senses must have something to amuse them. +This is a highly philosophical way of saying that he has taken +to dissipation, and that he has just been spending a month +at Naples--a city where 'pleasure' is actively cultivated-- +in very bad company. Are they all like that, all the men of genius? +There are a great many artists here who hammer away at their trade +with exemplary industry; in fact I am surprised at their success +in reducing the matter to a steady, daily grind: but I really +don't think that one of them has his exquisite quality of talent. +It is in the matter of quantity that he has broken down. +The bottle won't pour; he turns it upside down; it 's no use! +Sometimes he declares it 's empty--that he has done all he was made +to do. This I consider great nonsense; but I would nevertheless +take him on his own terms if it was only I that was concerned. +But I keep thinking of those two praying, trusting neighbors +of yours, and I feel wretchedly like a swindler. If his working +mood came but once in five years I would willingly wait for it +and maintain him in leisure, if need be, in the intervals; +but that would be a sorry account to present to them. +Five years of this sort of thing, moreover, would effectually +settle the question. I wish he were less of a genius and more +of a charlatan! He 's too confoundedly all of one piece; +he won't throw overboard a grain of the cargo to save the rest. +Fancy him thus with all his brilliant personal charm, +his handsome head, his careless step, his look as of a nervous +nineteenth-century Apollo, and you will understand that there +is mighty little comfort in seeing him in a bad way. +He was tolerably foolish last summer at Baden Baden, +but he got on his feet, and for a while he was steady. +Then he began to waver again, and at last toppled over. +Now, literally, he 's lying prone. He came into my room +last night, miserably tipsy. I assure you, it did n't +amuse me..... About Miss Light it 's a long story. She is one of +the great beauties of all time, and worth coming barefoot to Rome, +like the pilgrims of old, to see. Her complexion, her glance, her step, +her dusky tresses, may have been seen before in a goddess, but never +in a woman. And you may take this for truth, because I 'm not in love +with her. On the contrary! Her education has been simply infernal. +She is corrupt, perverse, as proud as the queen of Sheba, and an +appalling coquette; but she is generous, and with patience and skill you +may enlist her imagination in a good cause as well as in a bad one. +The other day I tried to manipulate it a little. Chance offered me +an interview to which it was possible to give a serious turn, and I boldly +broke ground and begged her to suffer my poor friend to go in peace. +After a good deal of finessing she consented, and the next day, with a +single word, packed him off to Naples to drown his sorrow in debauchery. +I have come to the conclusion that she is more dangerous in her virtuous +moods than in her vicious ones, and that she probably has a way +of turning her back which is the most provoking thing in the world. +She 's an actress, she could n't forego doing the thing dramatically, +and it was the dramatic touch that made it fatal. I wished her, +of course, to let him down easily; but she desired to have the curtain +drop on an attitude, and her attitudes deprive +inflammable young artists of their reason..... Roderick made an +admirable bust of her at the beginning of the winter, and a dozen women +came rushing to him to be done, mutatis mutandis, in the same style. +They were all great ladies and ready to take him by the hand, +but he told them all their faces did n't interest him, and sent them +away vowing his destruction." + +At this point of his long effusion, Rowland had paused and put +by his letter. He kept it three days and then read it over. +He was disposed at first to destroy it, but he decided +finally to keep it, in the hope that it might strike a spark +of useful suggestion from the flint of Cecilia's good sense. +We know he had a talent for taking advice. And then it +might be, he reflected, that his cousin's answer would throw +some light on Mary Garland's present vision of things. +In his altered mood he added these few lines:-- + +"I unburdened myself the other day of this monstrous load +of perplexity; I think it did me good, and I let it stand. +I was in a melancholy muddle, and I was trying to work myself free. +You know I like discussion, in a quiet way, and there +is no one with whom I can have it as quietly as with you, +most sagacious of cousins! There is an excellent old lady +with whom I often chat, and who talks very much to the point. +But Madame Grandoni has disliked Roderick from the first, +and if I were to take her advice I would wash my hands of him. +You will laugh at me for my long face, but you would do +that in any circumstances. I am half ashamed of my letter, +for I have a faith in my friend that is deeper than my doubts. +He was here last evening, talking about the Naples Museum, +the Aristides, the bronzes, the Pompeian frescoes, +with such a beautiful intelligence that doubt of the ultimate +future seemed blasphemy. I walked back to his lodging +with him, and he was as mild as midsummer moonlight. +He has the ineffable something that charms and convinces; +my last word about him shall not be a harsh one." + +Shortly after sending his letter, going one day into +his friend's studio, he found Roderick suffering from +the grave infliction of a visit from Mr. Leavenworth. +Roderick submitted with extreme ill grace to being bored, +and he was now evidently in a state of high exasperation. +He had lately begun a representation of a lazzarone lounging +in the sun; an image of serene, irresponsible, sensuous life. +The real lazzarone, he had admitted, was a vile fellow; +but the ideal lazzarone--and his own had been subtly idealized-- +was a precursor of the millennium. + +Mr. Leavenworth had apparently just transferred his unhurrying +gaze to the figure. + +"Something in the style of the Dying Gladiator?" he sympathetically observed. + +"Oh no," said Roderick seriously, "he 's not dying, he 's only drunk!" + +"Ah, but intoxication, you know," Mr. Leavenworth rejoined, +"is not a proper subject for sculpture. Sculpture should not +deal with transitory attitudes." + +"Lying dead drunk is not a transitory attitude! Nothing is more permanent, +more sculpturesque, more monumental!" + +"An entertaining paradox," said Mr. Leavenworth, "if we had time +to exercise our wits upon it. I remember at Florence an intoxicated +figure by Michael Angelo which seemed to me a deplorable aberration +of a great mind. I myself touch liquor in no shape whatever. +I have traveled through Europe on cold water. The most varied and +attractive lists of wines are offered me, but I brush them aside. +No cork has ever been drawn at my command!" + +"The movement of drawing a cork calls into play a very pretty set of muscles," +said Roderick. "I think I will make a figure in that position." + +"A Bacchus, realistically treated! My dear young friend, never trifle with +your lofty mission. Spotless marble should represent virtue, not vice!" +And Mr. Leavenworth placidly waved his hand, as if to exorcise the spirit +of levity, while his glance journeyed with leisurely benignity +to another object--a marble replica of the bust of Miss Light. +"An ideal head, I presume," he went on; "a fanciful representation +of one of the pagan goddesses--a Diana, a Flora, a naiad or dryad? +I often regret that our American artists should not boldly cast off +that extinct nomenclature." + +"She is neither a naiad nor a dryad," said Roderick, "and her name +is as good as yours or mine." + +"You call her"--Mr. Leavenworth blandly inquired. + +"Miss Light," Rowland interposed, in charity. + +"Ah, our great American beauty! Not a pagan goddess-- +an American, Christian lady! Yes, I have had the pleasure +of conversing with Miss Light. Her conversational powers +are not remarkable, but her beauty is of a high order. +I observed her the other evening at a large party, +where some of the proudest members of the European aristocracy +were present--duchesses, princesses, countesses, and others +distinguished by similar titles. But for beauty, grace, +and elegance my fair countrywoman left them all nowhere. +What women can compare with a truly refined American lady? +The duchesses the other night had no attractions for my eyes; +they looked coarse and sensual! It seemed to me that the tyranny +of class distinctions must indeed be terrible when such +countenances could inspire admiration. You see more beautiful +girls in an hour on Broadway than in the whole tour of Europe. +Miss Light, now, on Broadway, would excite no particular remark." + +"She has never been there!" cried Roderick, triumphantly. + +"I 'm afraid she never will be there. I suppose you have heard +the news about her." + +"What news?" Roderick had stood with his back turned, +fiercely poking at his lazzarone; but at Mr. Leavenworth's +last words he faced quickly about. + +"It 's the news of the hour, I believe. Miss Light is admired +by the highest people here. They tacitly recognize her superiority. +She has had offers of marriage from various great lords. +I was extremely happy to learn this circumstance, +and to know that they all had been left sighing. She has +not been dazzled by their titles and their gilded coronets. +She has judged them simply as men, and found them wanting. +One of them, however, a young Neapolitan prince, I believe, +has after a long probation succeeded in making himself acceptable. +Miss Light has at last said yes, and the engagement has +just been announced. I am not generally a retailer of gossip +of this description, but the fact was alluded to an hour ago +by a lady with whom I was conversing, and here, in Europe, +these conversational trifles usurp the lion's share of +one's attention. I therefore retained the circumstance. +Yes, I regret that Miss Light should marry one of these +used-up foreigners. Americans should stand by each other. +If she wanted a brilliant match we could have fixed it for her. +If she wanted a fine fellow--a fine, sharp, enterprising modern man-- +I would have undertaken to find him for her without going +out of the city of New York. And if she wanted a big fortune, +I would have found her twenty that she would have had hard work +to spend: money down--not tied up in fever-stricken lands +and worm-eaten villas! What is the name of the young man? +Prince Castaway, or some such thing!" + +It was well for Mr. Leavenworth that he was a voluminous and +imperturbable talker; for the current of his eloquence floated +him past the short, sharp, startled cry with which Roderick +greeted his "conversational trifle." The young man stood +looking at him with parted lips and an excited eye. + +"The position of woman," Mr. Leavenworth placidly resumed, +"is certainly a very degraded one in these countries. +I doubt whether a European princess can command the respect +which in our country is exhibited toward the obscurest females. +The civilization of a country should be measured by the +deference shown to the weaker sex. Judged by that standard, +where are they, over here?" + +Though Mr. Leavenworth had not observed Roderick's emotion, it was not lost +upon Rowland, who was making certain uncomfortable reflections upon it. +He saw that it had instantly become one with the acute irritation produced +by the poor gentleman's oppressive personality, and that an explosion +of some sort was imminent. Mr. Leavenworth, with calm unconsciousness, +proceeded to fire the mine. + +"And now for our Culture!" he said in the same sonorous tones, +demanding with a gesture the unveiling of the figure, which stood +somewhat apart, muffled in a great sheet. + +Roderick stood looking at him for a moment with concentrated rancor, +and then strode to the statue and twitched off the cover. +Mr. Leavenworth settled himself into his chair with an air +of flattered proprietorship, and scanned the unfinished image. +"I can conscientiously express myself as gratified with the +general conception," he said. "The figure has considerable +majesty, and the countenance wears a fine, open expression. +The forehead, however, strikes me as not sufficiently intellectual. +In a statue of Culture, you know, that should be the great point. +The eye should instinctively seek the forehead. Could n't you +heighten it up a little?" + +Roderick, for all answer, tossed the sheet back over the statue. +"Oblige me, sir," he said, "oblige me! Never mention that thing again." + +"Never mention it? Why my dear sir"-- + +"Never mention it. It 's an abomination!" + +"An abomination! My Culture!" + +"Yours indeed!" cried Roderick. "It 's none of mine. +I disown it. " + +"Disown it, if you please," said Mr. Leavenworth sternly, +"but finish it first!" + +"I 'd rather smash it!" cried Roderick. + +"This is folly, sir. You must keep your engagements." + +"I made no engagement. A sculptor is n't a tailor. Did you ever +hear of inspiration? Mine is dead! And it 's no laughing matter. +You yourself killed it." + +"I--I-- killed your inspiration?" cried Mr. Leavenworth, +with the accent of righteous wrath. "You 're a very ungrateful boy! +If ever I encouraged and cheered and sustained any one, +I 'm sure I have done so to you." + +"I appreciate your good intentions, and I don't wish to be uncivil. +But your encouragement is--superfluous. I can't work for you!" + +"I call this ill-humor, young man!" said Mr. Leavenworth, +as if he had found the damning word. + +"Oh, I 'm in an infernal humor!" Roderick answered. + +"Pray, sir, is it my infelicitous allusion to Miss Light's marriage?" + +"It 's your infelicitous everything! I don't say that to offend you; +I beg your pardon if it does. I say it by way of making our +rupture complete, irretrievable!" + +Rowland had stood by in silence, but he now interfered. +"Listen to me," he said, laying his hand on Roderick's arm. +"You are standing on the edge of a gulf. If you suffer +anything that has passed to interrupt your work on that figure, +you take your plunge. It 's no matter that you don't +like it; you will do the wisest thing you ever did if you +make that effort of will necessary for finishing it. +Destroy the statue then, if you like, but make the effort. +I speak the truth!" + +Roderick looked at him with eyes that still inexorableness made +almost tender. "You too!" he simply said. + +Rowland felt that he might as well attempt to squeeze water from +a polished crystal as hope to move him. He turned away and walked +into the adjoining room with a sense of sickening helplessness. +In a few moments he came back and found that Mr. Leavenworth +had departed--presumably in a manner somewhat portentous. +Roderick was sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head +in his hands. + +Rowland made one more attempt. "You decline to think of what I urge?" + +"Absolutely." + +"There's one more point--that you shouldn't, for a month, +go to Mrs. Light's." + +"I go there this evening." + +"That too is an utter folly." + +"There are such things as necessary follies." + +"You are not reflecting; you are speaking in passion." + +"Why then do you make me speak?" + +Rowland meditated a moment. "Is it also necessary that you should lose +the best friend you have?" + +Roderick looked up. "That 's for you to settle!" + +His best friend clapped on his hat and strode away; in a moment +the door closed behind him. Rowland walked hard for nearly a couple +of hours. He passed up the Corso, out of the Porta del Popolo +and into the Villa Borghese, of which he made a complete circuit. +The keenness of his irritation subsided, but it left him with +an intolerable weight upon his heart. When dusk had fallen, +he found himself near the lodging of his friend Madame Grandoni. +He frequently paid her a visit during the hour which preceded dinner, +and he now ascended her unillumined staircase and rang at her +relaxed bell-rope with an especial desire for diversion. +He was told that, for the moment, she was occupied, but that if +he would come in and wait, she would presently be with him. +He had not sat musing in the firelight for ten minutes when +he heard the jingle of the door-bell and then a rustling and +murmuring in the hall. The door of the little saloon opened, +but before the visitor appeared he had recognized her voice. +Christina Light swept forward, preceded by her poodle, +and almost filling the narrow parlor with the train of her dress. +She was colored here and there by the flicking firelight. + +"They told me you were here," she said simply, as she took a seat. + +"And yet you came in? It is very brave," said Rowland. + +"You are the brave one, when one thinks of it! Where is the padrona?" + +"Occupied for the moment. But she is coming." + +"How soon?" + +"I have already waited ten minutes; I expect her from moment to moment." + +"Meanwhile we are alone?" And she glanced into the dusky corners +of the room. + +"Unless Stenterello counts," said Rowland. + +"Oh, he knows my secrets--unfortunate brute!" She sat silent awhile, +looking into the firelight. Then at last, glancing at Rowland, +"Come! say something pleasant!" she exclaimed. + +"I have been very happy to hear of your engagement." + +"No, I don't mean that. I have heard that so often, only since breakfast, +that it has lost all sense. I mean some of those unexpected, charming things +that you said to me a month ago at Saint Cecilia's." + +"I offended you, then," said Rowland. "I was afraid I had." + +"Ah, it occurred to you? Why have n't I seen you since?" + +"Really, I don't know." And he began to hesitate for an explanation. +"I have called, but you have never been at home." + +"You were careful to choose the wrong times. You have a way +with a poor girl! You sit down and inform her that she is +a person with whom a respectable young man cannot associate +without contamination; your friend is a very nice fellow, +you are very careful of his morals, you wish him to know +none but nice people, and you beg me therefore to desist. +You request me to take these suggestions to heart and to act +upon them as promptly as possible. They are not particularly +flattering to my vanity. Vanity, however, is a sin, and I +listen submissively, with an immense desire to be just. +If I have many faults I know it, in a general way, and I +try on the whole to do my best. 'Voyons,' I say to myself, +'it is n't particularly charming to hear one's self made +out such a low person, but it is worth thinking over; +there 's probably a good deal of truth in it, and at any rate +we must be as good a girl as we can. That 's the great point! +And then here 's a magnificent chance for humility. If there 's +doubt in the matter, let the doubt count against one's self. +That is what Saint Catherine did, and Saint Theresa, and all +the others, and they are said to have had in consequence the most +ineffable joys. Let us go in for a little ineffable joy!' +I tried it; I swallowed my rising sobs, I made you my courtesy, +I determined I would not be spiteful, nor passionate, nor vengeful, +nor anything that is supposed to be particularly feminine. +I was a better girl than you made out--better at least +than you thought; but I would let the difference go and do +magnificently right, lest I should not do right enough. +I thought of it a deal for six hours when I know I did n't +seem to be, and then at last I did it! Santo Dio!" + +"My dear Miss Light, my dear Miss Light!" said Rowland, pleadingly. + +"Since then," the young girl went on, "I have been waiting +for the ineffable joys. They have n't yet turned up!" + +"Pray listen to me!" Rowland urged. + +"Nothing, nothing, nothing has come of it. I have passed the dreariest +month of my life!" + +"My dear Miss Light, you are a very terrible young lady!" cried Rowland. + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"A good many things. We 'll talk them over. But first, +forgive me if I have offended you!" + +She looked at him a moment, hesitating, and then thrust her hands +into her muff. "That means nothing. Forgiveness is between equals, +and you don't regard me as your equal." + +"Really, I don't understand!" + +Christina rose and moved for a moment about the room. +Then turning suddenly, "You don't believe in me!" she cried; +"not a grain! I don't know what I would not give to force +you to believe in me!" + +Rowland sprang up, protesting, but before he had time to go far +one of the scanty portieres was raised, and Madame Grandoni came in, +pulling her wig straight. "But you shall believe in me yet," +murmured Christina, as she passed toward her hostess. + +Madame Grandoni turned tenderly to Christina. "I must give you +a very solemn kiss, my dear; you are the heroine of the hour. +You have really accepted him, eh?" + +"So they say!" + +"But you ought to know best." + +"I don't know--I don't care!" She stood with her hand in Madame +Grandoni's, but looking askance at Rowland. + +"That 's a pretty state of mind," said the old lady, "for a young +person who is going to become a princess." + +Christina shrugged her shoulders. "Every one expects me to go into ecstacies +over that! Could anything be more vulgar? They may chuckle by themselves! +Will you let me stay to dinner?" + +"If you can dine on a risotto. But I imagine you are expected +at home. " + +"You are right. Prince Casamassima dines there, en famille. +But I 'm not in his family, yet!" + +"Do you know you are very wicked? I have half a mind not to keep you." + +Christina dropped her eyes, reflectively. "I beg you will let me stay," +she said. "If you wish to cure me of my wickedness you must +be very patient and kind with me. It will be worth the trouble. +You must show confidence in me." And she gave another glance at Rowland. +Then suddenly, in a different tone, "I don't know what I 'm saying!" +she cried. "I am weary, I am more lonely than ever, I wish I were dead!" +The tears rose to her eyes, she struggled with them an instant, +and buried her face in her muff; but at last she burst into +uncontrollable sobs and flung her arms upon Madame Grandoni's neck. +This shrewd woman gave Rowland a significant nod, and a little shrug, +over the young girl's beautiful bowed head, and then led Christina +tenderly away into the adjoining room. Rowland, left alone, stood there +for an instant, intolerably puzzled, face to face with Miss Light's poodle, +who had set up a sharp, unearthly cry of sympathy with his mistress. +Rowland vented his confusion in dealing a rap with his stick at +the animal's unmelodious muzzle, and then rapidly left the house. +He saw Mrs. Light's carriage waiting at the door, and heard afterwards +that Christina went home to dinner. + +A couple of days later he went, for a fortnight, to Florence. +He had twenty minds to leave Italy altogether; and at Florence +he could at least more freely decide upon his future movements. +He felt profoundly, incurably disgusted. Reflective benevolence +stood prudently aside, and for the time touched the source of his +irritation with no softening side-lights. + +It was the middle of March, and by the middle of March in Florence +the spring is already warm and deep. He had an infinite +relish for the place and the season, but as he strolled +by the Arno and paused here and there in the great galleries, +they failed to soothe his irritation. He was sore at heart, +and as the days went by the soreness deepened rather than healed. +He felt as if he had a complaint against fortune; good-natured as +he was, his good-nature this time quite declined to let it pass. +He had tried to be wise, he had tried to be kind, he had +embarked upon an estimable enterprise; but his wisdom, +his kindness, his energy, had been thrown back in his face. +He was disappointed, and his disappointment had an angry spark in it. +The sense of wasted time, of wasted hope and faith, kept him +constant company. There were times when the beautiful things about +him only exasperated his discontent. He went to the Pitti Palace, +and Raphael's Madonna of the Chair seemed, in its soft serenity, +to mock him with the suggestion of unattainable repose. +He lingered on the bridges at sunset, and knew that the light +was enchanting and the mountains divine, but there seemed +to be something horribly invidious and unwelcome in the fact. +He felt, in a word, like a man who has been cruelly defrauded +and who wishes to have his revenge. Life owed him, +he thought, a compensation, and he would be restless and +resentful until he found it. He knew--or he seemed to know-- +where he should find it; but he hardly told himself, +and thought of the thing under mental protest, as a man in want +of money may think of certain funds that he holds in trust. +In his melancholy meditations the idea of something better +than all this, something that might softly, richly interpose, +something that might reconcile him to the future, something that +might make one's tenure of life deep and zealous instead of harsh +and uneven--the idea of concrete compensation, in a word-- +shaped itself sooner or later into the image of Mary Garland. + +Very odd, you may say, that at this time of day Rowland should still +be brooding over a plain girl of whom he had had but the lightest +of glimpses two years before; very odd that so deep an impression +should have been made by so lightly-pressed an instrument. +We must admit the oddity and offer simply in explanation +that his sentiment apparently belonged to that species of +emotion of which, by the testimony of the poets, the very name +and essence is oddity. One night he slept but half an hour; +he found his thoughts taking a turn which excited him portentously. +He walked up and down his room half the night. It looked out +on the Arno; the noise of the river came in at the open window; +he felt like dressing and going down into the streets. +Toward morning he flung himself into a chair; though he was +wide awake he was less excited. It seemed to him that he saw +his idea from the outside, that he judged it and condemned it; +yet it stood there before him, distinct, and in a certain +way imperious. During the day he tried to banish it and forget it; +but it fascinated, haunted, at moments frightened him. +He tried to amuse himself, paid visits, resorted to several rather +violent devices for diverting his thoughts. If on the morrow +he had committed a crime, the persons whom he had seen that day +would have testified that he had talked strangely and had not +seemed like himself. He felt certainly very unlike himself; +long afterwards, in retrospect, he used to reflect that during +those days he had for a while been literally beside himself. +His idea persisted; it clung to him like a sturdy beggar. +The sense of the matter, roughly expressed, was this: +If Roderick was really going, as he himself had phrased it, +to "fizzle out," one might help him on the way--one might smooth +the descensus Averno. For forty-eight hours there swam before +Rowland's eyes a vision of Roderick, graceful and beautiful +as he passed, plunging, like a diver, from an eminence into +a misty gulf. The gulf was destruction, annihilation, death; +but if death was decreed, why should not the agony be brief? +Beyond this vision there faintly glimmered another, +as in the children's game of the "magic lantern" a picture is +superposed on the white wall before the last one has quite faded. +It represented Mary Garland standing there with eyes in which +the horror seemed slowly, slowly to expire, and hanging, +motionless hands which at last made no resistance when his own +offered to take them. When, of old, a man was burnt at the stake +it was cruel to have to be present; but if one was present it +was kind to lend a hand to pile up the fuel and make the flames +do their work quickly and the smoke muffle up the victim. +With all deference to your kindness, this was perhaps an obligation +you would especially feel if you had a reversionary interest +in something the victim was to leave behind him. + +One morning, in the midst of all this, Rowland walked +heedlessly out of one of the city gates and found himself +on the road to Fiesole. It was a completely lovely day; +the March sun felt like May, as the English poet of Florence says; +the thick-blossomed shrubs and vines that hung over the walls +of villa and podere flung their odorous promise into the warm, +still air. Rowland followed the winding, climbing lanes; +lingered, as he got higher, beneath the rusty cypresses, +beside the low parapets, where you look down on the charming +city and sweep the vale of the Arno; reached the little square +before the cathedral, and rested awhile in the massive, +dusky church; then climbed higher, to the Franciscan +convent which is poised on the very apex of the mountain. +He rang at the little gateway; a shabby, senile, red-faced brother +admitted him with almost maudlin friendliness. There was +a dreary chill in the chapel and the corridors, and he passed +rapidly through them into the delightfully steep and tangled old +garden which runs wild over the forehead of the great hill. +He had been in it before, and he was very fond of it. +The garden hangs in the air, and you ramble from terrace +to terrace and wonder how it keeps from slipping down, in full +consummation of its bereaved forlornness, into the nakedly +romantic gorge beneath. It was just noon when Rowland went in, +and after roaming about awhile he flung himself in the sun +on a mossy stone bench and pulled his hat over his eyes. +The short shadows of the brown-coated cypresses above him had grown +very long, and yet he had not passed back through the convent. +One of the monks, in his faded snuff-colored robe, came wandering +out into the garden, reading his greasy little breviary. +Suddenly he came toward the bench on which Rowland had +stretched himself, and paused a moment, attentively. +Rowland was lingering there still; he was sitting +with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. +He seemed not to have heard the sandaled tread of the good brother, +but as the monk remained watching him, he at last looked up. +It was not the ignoble old man who had admitted him, +but a pale, gaunt personage, of a graver and more ascetic, +and yet of a benignant, aspect. Rowland's face bore the traces +of extreme trouble. The frate kept his finger in his little book, +and folded his arms picturesquely across his breast. +It can hardly be determined whether his attitude, as he bent +his sympathetic Italian eye upon Rowland, was a happy accident +or the result of an exquisite spiritual discernment. +To Rowland, at any rate, under the emotion of that moment, +it seemed blessedly opportune. He rose and approached the monk, +and laid his hand on his arm. + +"My brother," he said, "did you ever see the Devil?" + +The frate gazed, gravely, and crossed himself. "Heaven forbid!" + +"He was here," Rowland went on, "here in this lovely garden, +as he was once in Paradise, half an hour ago. But have no fear; +I drove him out." And Rowland stooped and picked up his hat, +which had rolled away into a bed of cyclamen, in vague symbolism +of an actual physical tussle. + +"You have been tempted, my brother?" asked the friar, tenderly. + +"Hideously!" + +"And you have resisted--and conquered!" + +"I believe I have conquered." + +"The blessed Saint Francis be praised! It is well done. +If you like, we will offer a mass for you." + +"I am not a Catholic," said Rowland. + +The frate smiled with dignity. "That is a reason the more." + +"But it 's for you, then, to choose. Shake hands with me," +Rowland added; "that will do as well; and suffer me, as I go out, +to stop a moment in your chapel." + +They shook hands and separated. The frate crossed himself, +opened his book, and wandered away, in relief against the western sky. +Rowland passed back into the convent, and paused long enough +in the chapel to look for the alms-box. He had had what is vulgarly +termed a great scare; he believed, very poignantly for the time, +in the Devil, and he felt an irresistible need to subscribe to any +institution which engaged to keep him at a distance. + +The next day he returned to Rome, and the day afterwards +he went in search of Roderick. He found him on the Pincian +with his back turned to the crowd, looking at the sunset. +"I went to Florence," Rowland said, "and I thought of going farther; +but I came back on purpose to give you another piece of advice. +Once more, you refuse to leave Rome?" + +"Never!" said Roderick. + +"The only chance that I see, then, of your reviving your sense of +responsibility to--to those various sacred things you have forgotten, +is in sending for your mother to join you here." + +Roderick stared. "For my mother?" + +"For your mother--and for Miss Garland." + +Roderick still stared; and then, slowly and faintly, his face flushed. +"For Mary Garland--for my mother?" he repeated. "Send for them?" + +"Tell me this; I have often wondered, but till now I have forborne to ask. +You are still engaged to Miss Garland?" + +Roderick frowned darkly, but assented. + +"It would give you pleasure, then, to see her?" + +Roderick turned away and for some moments answered nothing. +"Pleasure!" he said at last, huskily. "Call it pain." + +"I regard you as a sick man," Rowland continued. +"In such a case Miss Garland would say that her place was +at your side." + +Roderick looked at him some time askance, mistrustfully. +"Is this a deep-laid snare?" he asked slowly. + +Rowland had come back with all his patience rekindled, but these words +gave it an almost fatal chill. "Heaven forgive you!" he cried bitterly. +"My idea has been simply this. Try, in decency, to understand it. +I have tried to befriend you, to help you, to inspire you with confidence, +and I have failed. I took you from the hands of your mother and +your betrothed, and it seemed to me my duty to restore you to their hands. +That 's all I have to say." + +He was going, but Roderick forcibly detained him. +It would have been but a rough way of expressing it to say +that one could never know how Roderick would take a thing. +It had happened more than once that when hit hard, deservedly, +he had received the blow with touching gentleness. +On the other hand, he had often resented the softest taps. +The secondary effect of Rowland's present admonition +seemed reassuring. "I beg you to wait," he said, +"to forgive that shabby speech, and to let me reflect." +And he walked up and down awhile, reflecting. At last he stopped, +with a look in his face that Rowland had not seen all winter. +It was a strikingly beautiful look. + +"How strange it is," he said, "that the simplest devices are +the last that occur to one!" And he broke into a light laugh. +"To see Mary Garland is just what I want. And my mother-- +my mother can't hurt me now." + +"You will write, then?" + +"I will telegraph. They must come, at whatever cost. +Striker can arrange it all for them." + +In a couple of days he told Rowland that he had received a telegraphic +answer to his message, informing him that the two ladies were to sail +immediately for Leghorn, in one of the small steamers which ply between +that port and New York. They would arrive, therefore, in less than a month. +Rowland passed this month of expectation in no very serene frame of mind. +His suggestion had had its source in the deepest places of his +agitated conscience; but there was something intolerable in the thought +of the suffering to which the event was probably subjecting those +undefended women. They had scraped together their scanty funds +and embarked, at twenty-four hours' notice, upon the dreadful sea, +to journey tremulously to shores darkened by the shadow of deeper alarms. +He could only promise himself to be their devoted friend and servant. +Preoccupied as he was, he was able to observe that expectation, +with Roderick, took a form which seemed singular even among his +characteristic singularities. If redemption--Roderick seemed +to reason--was to arrive with his mother and his affianced bride, +these last moments of error should be doubly erratic. He did nothing; +but inaction, with him, took on an unwonted air of gentle gayety. +He laughed and whistled and went often to Mrs. Light's; though Rowland +knew not in what fashion present circumstances had modified his relations +with Christina. The month ebbed away and Rowland daily expected +to hear from Roderick that he had gone to Leghorn to meet the ship. +He heard nothing, and late one evening, not having seen his friend +in three or four days, he stopped at Roderick's lodging to assure +himself that he had gone at last. A cab was standing in the street, +but as it was a couple of doors off he hardly heeded it. +The hall at the foot of the staircase was dark, like most Roman halls, +and he paused in the street-doorway on hearing the advancing footstep +of a person with whom he wished to avoid coming into collision. +While he did so he heard another footstep behind him, and turning +round found that Roderick in person had just overtaken him. +At the same moment a woman's figure advanced from within, into the light +of the street-lamp, and a face, half-startled, glanced at him out +of the darkness. He gave a cry--it was the face of Mary Garland. +Her glance flew past him to Roderick, and in a second a startled +exclamation broke from her own lips. It made Rowland turn again. +Roderick stood there, pale, apparently trying to speak, but saying nothing. +His lips were parted and he was wavering slightly with a strange movement-- +the movement of a man who has drunk too much. Then Rowland's eyes +met Miss Garland's again, and her own, which had rested a moment +on Roderick's, were formidable! + + + + + + +CHAPTER IX. Mary Garland + +How it befell that Roderick had failed to be in Leghorn +on his mother's arrival never clearly transpired; +for he undertook to give no elaborate explanation of his fault. +He never indulged in professions (touching personal conduct) +as to the future, or in remorse as to the past, and as he would +have asked no praise if he had traveled night and day to embrace +his mother as she set foot on shore, he made (in Rowland's presence, +at least) no apology for having left her to come in search of him. +It was to be said that, thanks to an unprecedentedly fine season, +the voyage of the two ladies had been surprisingly rapid, +and that, according to common probabilities, if Roderick had +left Rome on the morrow (as he declared that he had intended), +he would have had a day or two of waiting at Leghorn. +Rowland's silent inference was that Christina Light had beguiled him +into letting the time slip, and it was accompanied with a silent +inquiry whether she had done so unconsciously or maliciously. +He had told her, presumably, that his mother and his cousin +were about to arrive; and it was pertinent to remember +hereupon that she was a young lady of mysterious impulses. +Rowland heard in due time the story of the adventures of the two +ladies from Northampton. Miss Garland's wish, at Leghorn, +on finding they were left at the mercy of circumstances, +had been to telegraph to Roderick and await an answer; +for she knew that their arrival was a trifle premature. +But Mrs. Hudson's maternal heart had taken the alarm. +Roderick's sending for them was, to her imagination, a confession +of illness, and his not being at Leghorn, a proof of it; +an hour's delay was therefore cruel both to herself and to him. +She insisted on immediate departure; and, unskilled as they +were in the mysteries of foreign (or even of domestic) +travel, they had hurried in trembling eagerness to Rome. +They had arrived late in the evening, and, knowing nothing of inns, +had got into a cab and proceeded to Roderick's lodging. +At the door, poor Mrs. Hudson's frightened anxiety had overcome her, +and she had sat quaking and crying in the vehicle, too weak to move. +Miss Garland had bravely gone in, groped her way up the dusky +staircase, reached Roderick's door, and, with the assistance +of such acquaintance with the Italian tongue as she had culled +from a phrase-book during the calmer hours of the voyage, +had learned from the old woman who had her cousin's household +economy in charge that he was in the best of health and spirits, +and had gone forth a few hours before with his hat on +his ear, per divertirsi. + +These things Rowland learned during a visit he paid the two ladies +the evening after their arrival. Mrs. Hudson spoke of them at great +length and with an air of clinging confidence in Rowland which told +him how faithfully time had served him, in her imagination. +But her fright was over, though she was still catching her breath +a little, like a person dragged ashore out of waters uncomfortably deep. +She was excessively bewildered and confused, and seemed +more than ever to demand a tender handling from her friends. +Before Miss Garland, Rowland was distinctly conscious that he trembled. +He wondered extremely what was going on in her mind; what was +her silent commentary on the incidents of the night before. +He wondered all the more, because he immediately perceived that she +was greatly changed since their parting, and that the change +was by no means for the worse. She was older, easier, more free, +more like a young woman who went sometimes into company. +She had more beauty as well, inasmuch as her beauty before had been +the depth of her expression, and the sources from which this beauty +was fed had in these two years evidently not wasted themselves. +Rowland felt almost instantly--he could hardly have said why: +it was in her voice, in her tone, in the air--that a total change +had passed over her attitude towards himself. She trusted him now, +absolutely; whether or no she liked him, she believed he was solid. +He felt that during the coming weeks he would need to be solid. +Mrs. Hudson was at one of the smaller hotels, and her sitting-room +was frugally lighted by a couple of candles. Rowland made +the most of this dim illumination to try to detect the afterglow +of that frightened flash from Miss Garland's eyes the night before. +It had been but a flash, for what provoked it had instantly vanished. +Rowland had murmured a rapturous blessing on Roderick's head, +as he perceived him instantly apprehend the situation. +If he had been drinking, its gravity sobered him on the spot; +in a single moment he collected his wits. The next moment, +with a ringing, jovial cry, he was folding the young girl +in his arms, and the next he was beside his mother's carriage, +half smothered in her sobs and caresses. Rowland had recommended +a hotel close at hand, and had then discreetly withdrawn. +Roderick was at this time doing his part superbly, and Miss Garland's +brow was serene. It was serene now, twenty-four hours later; +but nevertheless, her alarm had lasted an appreciable moment. +What had become of it? It had dropped down deep into her memory, +and it was lying there for the present in the shade. But with +another week, Rowland said to himself, it would leap erect again; +the lightest friction would strike a spark from it. Rowland thought +he had schooled himself to face the issue of Mary Garland's advent, +casting it even in a tragical phase; but in her personal presence-- +in which he found a poignant mixture of the familiar and the strange-- +he seemed to face it and all that it might bring with it for +the first time. In vulgar parlance, he stood uneasy in his shoes. +He felt like walking on tiptoe, not to arouse the sleeping shadows. +He felt, indeed, almost like saying that they might have their +own way later, if they would only allow to these first few days +the clear light of ardent contemplation. For Rowland at last +was ardent, and all the bells within his soul were ringing +bravely in jubilee. Roderick, he learned, had been the whole day +with his mother, and had evidently responded to her purest trust. +He appeared to her appealing eyes still unspotted by the world. +That is what it is, thought Rowland, to be "gifted," to escape not +only the superficial, but the intrinsic penalties of misconduct. +The two ladies had spent the day within doors, resting from the fatigues +of travel. Miss Garland, Rowland suspected, was not so fatigued +as she suffered it to be assumed. She had remained with Mrs. Hudson, +to attend to her personal wants, which the latter seemed to think, +now that she was in a foreign land, with a southern climate and a +Catholic religion, would forthwith become very complex and formidable, +though as yet they had simply resolved themselves into a desire +for a great deal of tea and for a certain extremely familiar old +black and white shawl across her feet, as she lay on the sofa. +But the sense of novelty was evidently strong upon Miss Garland, +and the light of expectation was in her eye. She was restless +and excited; she moved about the room and went often to the window; +she was observing keenly; she watched the Italian servants intently, +as they came and went; she had already had a long colloquy with the +French chambermaid, who had expounded her views on the Roman question; +she noted the small differences in the furniture, in the food, +in the sounds that came in from the street. Rowland felt, in all this, +that her intelligence, here, would have a great unfolding. +He wished immensely he might have a share in it; he wished he might +show her Rome. That, of course, would be Roderick's office. +But he promised himself at least to take advantage of off-hours. + +"It behooves you to appreciate your good fortune," he said to her. +"To be young and elastic, and yet old enough and wise enough to +discriminate and reflect, and to come to Italy for the first time-- +that is one of the greatest pleasures that life offers us. +It is but right to remind you of it, so that you make the most +of opportunity and do not accuse yourself, later, of having wasted +the precious season." + +Miss Garland looked at him, smiling intently, and went to the window again. +"I expect to enjoy it," she said. "Don't be afraid; I am not wasteful." + +"I am afraid we are not qualified, you know," said Mrs. Hudson. +"We are told that you must know so much, that you must have +read so many books. Our taste has not been cultivated. +When I was a young lady at school, I remember I had a medal, +with a pink ribbon, for 'proficiency in Ancient History'-- +the seven kings, or is it the seven hills? and Quintus +Curtius and Julius Caesar and--and that period, you know. +I believe I have my medal somewhere in a drawer, now, but I +have forgotten all about the kings. But after Roderick +came to Italy we tried to learn something about it. +Last winter Mary used to read "Corinne" to me in the evenings, +and in the mornings she used to read another book, to herself. +What was it, Mary, that book that was so long, you know,-- +in fifteen volumes?" + +"It was Sismondi's Italian Republics," said Mary, simply. + +Rowland could not help laughing; whereupon Mary blushed. +"Did you finish it?" he asked. + +"Yes, and began another--a shorter one--Roscoe's Leo the Tenth." + +"Did you find them interesting?" + +"Oh yes." + +"Do you like history?" + +"Some of it." + +"That 's a woman's answer! And do you like art?" + +She paused a moment. "I have never seen it!" + +"You have great advantages, now, my dear, with Roderick and Mr. Mallet," +said Mrs. Hudson. "I am sure no young lady ever had such advantages. +You come straight to the highest authorities. Roderick, I suppose, +will show you the practice of art, and Mr. Mallet, perhaps, if he will +be so good, will show you the theory. As an artist's wife, you ought +to know something about it." + +"One learns a good deal about it, here, by simply living," said Rowland; +"by going and coming about one's daily avocations." + +"Dear, dear, how wonderful that we should be here in the midst of it!" +murmured Mrs. Hudson. "To think of art being out there in the streets! +We did n't see much of it last evening, as we drove from the depot. +But the streets were so dark and we were so frightened! +But we are very easy now; are n't we, Mary?" + +"I am very happy," said Mary, gravely, and wandered back to the window again. + +Roderick came in at this moment and kissed his mother, and then went +over and joined Miss Garland. Rowland sat with Mrs. Hudson, who evidently +had a word which she deemed of some value for his private ear. +She followed Roderick with intensely earnest eyes. + +"I wish to tell you, sir," she said, "how very grateful--how very thankful-- +what a happy mother I am! I feel as if I owed it all to you, sir. +To find my poor boy so handsome, so prosperous, so elegant, so famous-- +and ever to have doubted of you! What must you think of me? +You 're our guardian angel, sir. I often say so to Mary." + +Rowland wore, in response to this speech, a rather haggard brow. +He could only murmur that he was glad she found Roderick looking well. +He had of course promptly asked himself whether the best discretion +dictated that he should give her a word of warning--just turn the handle +of the door through which, later, disappointment might enter. +He had determined to say nothing, but simply to wait in silence for Roderick +to find effective inspiration in those confidently expectant eyes. +It was to be supposed that he was seeking for it now; he remained +sometime at the window with his cousin. But at last he turned away +and came over to the fireside with a contraction of the eyebrows which +seemed to intimate that Miss Garland's influence was for the moment, +at least, not soothing. She presently followed him, and for an instant +Rowland observed her watching him as if she thought him strange. +"Strange enough," thought Rowland, "he may seem to her, if he will!" +Roderick directed his glance to his friend with a certain peremptory +air, which--roughly interpreted--was equivalent to a request to share +the intellectual expense of entertaining the ladies. "Good heavens!" +Rowland cried within himself; "is he already tired of them?" + +"To-morrow, of course, we must begin to put you through the mill," +Roderick said to his mother. "And be it hereby known to Mallet +that we count upon him to turn the wheel." + +"I will do as you please, my son," said Mrs. Hudson. +"So long as I have you with me I don't care where I go. +We must not take up too much of Mr. Mallet's time." + +"His time is inexhaustible; he has nothing under the sun to do. +Have you, Rowland? If you had seen the big hole I have been making in it! +Where will you go first? You have your choice--from the Scala Santa +to the Cloaca Maxima." + +"Let us take things in order," said Rowland. "We will go first to Saint +Peter's. Miss Garland, I hope you are impatient to see Saint Peter's." + +"I would like to go first to Roderick's studio," said Miss Garland. + +"It 's a very nasty place," said Roderick. "At your pleasure!" + +"Yes, we must see your beautiful things before we can look contentedly +at anything else," said Mrs. Hudson. + +"I have no beautiful things," said Roderick. "You may see what there is! +What makes you look so odd?" + +This inquiry was abruptly addressed to his mother, who, in response, +glanced appealingly at Mary and raised a startled hand to her smooth hair. + +"No, it 's your face," said Roderick. "What has happened to it +these two years? It has changed its expression." + +"Your mother has prayed a great deal," said Miss Garland, simply. + +"I did n't suppose, of course, it was from doing anything bad! +It makes you a very good face--very interesting, very solemn. +It has very fine lines in it; something might be done with it." +And Rowland held one of the candles near the poor lady's head. + +She was covered with confusion. "My son, my son," she said with dignity, +"I don't understand you." + +In a flash all his old alacrity had come to him. +"I suppose a man may admire his own mother!" he cried. +"If you please, madame, you 'll sit to me for that head. +I see it, I see it! I will make something that a queen can't +get done for her." + +Rowland respectfully urged her to assent; he saw Roderick was in the vein +and would probably do something eminently original. She gave her promise, +at last, after many soft, inarticulate protests and a frightened petition +that she might be allowed to keep her knitting. + +Rowland returned the next day, with plenty of zeal for the part +Roderick had assigned to him. It had been arranged that they +should go to Saint Peter's. Roderick was in high good-humor, and, +in the carriage, was watching his mother with a fine mixture of filial +and professional tenderness. Mrs. Hudson looked up mistrustfully +at the tall, shabby houses, and grasped the side of the barouche +in her hand, as if she were in a sail-boat, in dangerous waters. +Rowland sat opposite to Miss Garland. She was totally oblivious +of her companions; from the moment the carriage left the hotel, +she sat gazing, wide-eyed and absorbed, at the objects about them. +If Rowland had felt disposed he might have made a joke of her +intense seriousness. From time to time he told her the name +of a place or a building, and she nodded, without looking at him. +When they emerged into the great square between Bernini's colonnades, +she laid her hand on Mrs. Hudson's arm and sank back in the carriage, +staring up at the vast yellow fa;alcade of the church. +Inside the church, Roderick gave his arm to his mother, +and Rowland constituted himself the especial guide of Miss Garland. +He walked with her slowly everywhere, and made the entire circuit, +telling her all he knew of the history of the building. +This was a great deal, but she listened attentively, keeping her +eyes fixed on the dome. To Rowland himself it had never seemed +so radiantly sublime as at these moments; he felt almost as if +he had contrived it himself and had a right to be proud of it. +He left Miss Garland a while on the steps of the choir, where she +had seated herself to rest, and went to join their companions. +Mrs. Hudson was watching a great circle of tattered contadini, +who were kneeling before the image of Saint Peter. The fashion +of their tatters fascinated her; she stood gazing at them in a sort +of terrified pity, and could not be induced to look at anything else. +Rowland went back to Miss Garland and sat down beside her. + +"Well, what do you think of Europe?" he asked, smiling. + +"I think it 's horrible!" she said abruptly. + +"Horrible?" + +"I feel so strangely--I could almost cry." + +"How is it that you feel?" + +"So sorry for the poor past, that seems to have died here, in my heart, +in an hour!" + +"But, surely, you 're pleased--you 're interested." + +"I am overwhelmed. Here in a single hour, everything is changed. +It is as if a wall in my mind had been knocked down at a stroke. +Before me lies an immense new world, and it makes the old one, +the poor little narrow, familiar one I have always known, seem pitiful." + +"But you did n't come to Rome to keep your eyes fastened on +that narrow little world. Forget it, turn your back on it, +and enjoy all this." + +"I want to enjoy it; but as I sat here just now, looking up +at that golden mist in the dome, I seemed to see in it +the vague shapes of certain people and things at home. +To enjoy, as you say, as these things demand of one to enjoy them, +is to break with one's past. And breaking is a pain!" + +"Don't mind the pain, and it will cease to trouble you. +Enjoy, enjoy; it is your duty. Yours especially!" + +"Why mine especially?" + +"Because I am very sure that you have a mind capable of doing +the most liberal justice to everything interesting and beautiful. +You are extremely intelligent." + +"You don't know," said Miss Garland, simply. + +"In that matter one feels. I really think that I know better than you. +I don't want to seem patronizing, but I suspect that your mind is +susceptible of a great development. Give it the best company, trust it, +let it go!" + +She looked away from him for some moments, down the gorgeous +vista of the great church. "But what you say," she said +at last, "means change!" + +"Change for the better!" cried Rowland. + +"How can one tell? As one stands, one knows the worst. +It seems to me very frightful to develop," she added, +with her complete smile. + +"One is in for it in one way or another, and one might as well do +it with a good grace as with a bad! Since one can't escape life, +it is better to take it by the hand." + +"Is this what you call life?" she asked. + +"What do you mean by 'this'?" + +"Saint Peter's--all this splendor, all Rome--pictures, ruins, +statues, beggars, monks." + +"It is not all of it, but it is a large part of it. +All these things are impregnated with life; they are the fruits +of an old and complex civilization." + +"An old and complex civilization: I am afraid I don't like that." + +"Don't conclude on that point just yet. Wait till you have tested it. +While you wait, you will see an immense number of very +beautiful things--things that you are made to understand. +They won't leave you as they found you; then you can judge. +Don't tell me I know nothing about your understanding. +I have a right to assume it." + +Miss Garland gazed awhile aloft in the dome. "I am not sure +I understand that," she said. + +"I hope, at least, that at a cursory glance it pleases you," +said Rowland. "You need n't be afraid to tell the truth. +What strikes some people is that it is so remarkably small." + +"Oh, it's large enough; it's very wonderful. There are things +in Rome, then," she added in a moment, turning and looking at him, +"that are very, very beautiful?" + +"Lots of them." + +"Some of the most beautiful things in the world?" + +"Unquestionably." + +"What are they? which things have most beauty?" + +"That is according to taste. I should say the statues." + +"How long will it take to see them all? to know, at least, +something about them?" + +"You can see them all, as far as mere seeing goes, in a fortnight. +But to know them is a thing for one's leisure. +The more time you spend among them, the more you care for them." +After a moment's hesitation he went on: "Why should you grudge time? +It 's all in your way, since you are to be an artist's wife." + +"I have thought of that," she said. "It may be that I shall always live here, +among the most beautiful things in the world!" + +"Very possibly! I should like to see you ten years hence." + +"I dare say I shall seem greatly altered. But I am sure of one thing." + +"Of what?" + +"That for the most part I shall be quite the same. +I ask nothing better than to believe the fine things you say about +my understanding, but even if they are true, it won't matter. +I shall be what I was made, what I am now--a young woman from +the country! The fruit of a civilization not old and complex, +but new and simple." + +"I am delighted to hear it: that 's an excellent foundation." + +"Perhaps, if you show me anything more, you will not always think +so kindly of it. Therefore I warn you." + +"I am not frightened. I should like vastly to say something to you: +Be what you are, be what you choose; but do, sometimes, as I tell you." + +If Rowland was not frightened, neither, perhaps, was Miss Garland; +but she seemed at least slightly disturbed. She proposed that they +should join their companions. + +Mrs. Hudson spoke under her breath; she could not be accused of the want of +reverence sometimes attributed to Protestants in the great Catholic temples. +"Mary, dear," she whispered, "suppose we had to kiss that dreadful brass toe. +If I could only have kept our door-knocker, at Northampton, as bright +as that! I think it's so heathenish; but Roderick says he thinks +it 's sublime." + +Roderick had evidently grown a trifle perverse. "It 's sublimer +than anything that your religion asks you to do!" he exclaimed. + +"Surely our religion sometimes gives us very difficult duties," +said Miss Garland. + +"The duty of sitting in a whitewashed meeting-house and +listening to a nasal Puritan! I admit that 's difficult. +But it 's not sublime. I am speaking of ceremonies, of forms. +It is in my line, you know, to make much of forms. +I think this is a very beautiful one. Could n't you do it?" +he demanded, looking at his cousin. + +She looked back at him intently and then shook her head. +"I think not!" + +"Why not?" + +"I don't know; I could n't!" + +During this little discussion our four friends were standing +near the venerable image of Saint Peter, and a squalid, +savage-looking peasant, a tattered ruffian of the most orthodox +Italian aspect, had been performing his devotions before it. +He turned away, crossing himself, and Mrs. Hudson gave a little +shudder of horror. + +"After that," she murmured, "I suppose he thinks he is as good as any one! +And here is another. Oh, what a beautiful person!" + +A young lady had approached the sacred effigy, after having wandered +away from a group of companions. She kissed the brazen toe, +touched it with her forehead, and turned round, facing our friends. +Rowland then recognized Christina Light. He was stupefied: +had she suddenly embraced the Catholic faith? It was but a few +weeks before that she had treated him to a passionate profession +of indifference. Had she entered the church to put herself +en regle with what was expected of a Princess Casamassima? +While Rowland was mentally asking these questions she was +approaching him and his friends, on her way to the great altar. +At first she did not perceive them. + +Mary Garland had been gazing at her. "You told me," she said gently, +to Rowland, "that Rome contained some of the most beautiful things +in the world. This surely is one of them!" + +At this moment Christina's eye met Rowland's and before +giving him any sign of recognition she glanced rapidly at +his companions. She saw Roderick, but she gave him no bow; +she looked at Mrs. Hudson, she looked at Mary Garland. +At Mary Garland she looked fixedly, piercingly, from head to foot, +as the slow pace at which she was advancing made possible. +Then suddenly, as if she had perceived Roderick for the first time, +she gave him a charming nod, a radiant smile. In a moment +he was at her side. She stopped, and he stood talking to her; +she continued to look at Miss Garland. + +"Why, Roderick knows her!" cried Mrs. Hudson, in an awe-struck whisper. +"I supposed she was some great princess." + +"She is--almost!" said Rowland. "She is the most beautiful girl in Europe, +and Roderick has made her bust." + +"Her bust? Dear, dear!" murmured Mrs. Hudson, vaguely shocked. +"What a strange bonnet!" + +"She has very strange eyes," said Mary, and turned away. + +The two ladies, with Rowland, began to descend toward the door of the church. +On their way they passed Mrs. Light, the Cavaliere, and the poodle, +and Rowland informed his companions of the relation in which these personages +stood to Roderick's young lady. + +"Think of it, Mary!" said Mrs. Hudson. "What splendid people he must know! +No wonder he found Northampton dull!" + +"I like the poor little old gentleman," said Mary. + +"Why do you call him poor?" Rowland asked, struck with the observation. + +"He seems so!" she answered simply. + +As they were reaching the door they were overtaken by Roderick, +whose interview with Miss Light had perceptibly brightened his eye. +"So you are acquainted with princesses!" said his mother softly, +as they passed into the portico. + +"Miss Light is not a princess!" said Roderick, curtly. + +"But Mr. Mallet says so," urged Mrs. Hudson, rather disappointed. + +"I meant that she was going to be!" said Rowland. + +"It 's by no means certain that she is even going to be!" +Roderick answered. + +"Ah," said Rowland, "I give it up!" + +Roderick almost immediately demanded that his mother should sit +to him, at his studio, for her portrait, and Rowland ventured to add +another word of urgency. If Roderick's idea really held him, +it was an immense pity that his inspiration should be wasted; +inspiration, in these days, had become too precious a commodity. +It was arranged therefore that, for the present, during the mornings, +Mrs. Hudson should place herself at her son's service. +This involved but little sacrifice, for the good lady's appetite +for antiquities was diminutive and bird-like, the usual round +of galleries and churches fatigued her, and she was glad to +purchase immunity from sight-seeing by a regular afternoon drive. +It became natural in this way that, Miss Garland having her +mornings free, Rowland should propose to be the younger lady's +guide in whatever explorations she might be disposed to make. +She said she knew nothing about it, but she had a great curiosity, +and would be glad to see anything that he would show her. Rowland could +not find it in his heart to accuse Roderick of neglect of the young girl; +for it was natural that the inspirations of a capricious man of genius, +when they came, should be imperious; but of course he wondered +how Miss Garland felt, as the young man's promised wife, on being +thus expeditiously handed over to another man to be entertained. +However she felt, he was certain he would know little about it. +There had been, between them, none but indirect allusions +to her engagement, and Rowland had no desire to discuss it +more largely; for he had no quarrel with matters as they stood. +They wore the same delightful aspect through the lovely month +of May, and the ineffable charm of Rome at that period seemed +but the radiant sympathy of nature with his happy opportunity. +The weather was divine; each particular morning, as he walked from his +lodging to Mrs. Hudson's modest inn, seemed to have a blessing upon it. +The elder lady had usually gone off to the studio, and he found Miss +Garland sitting alone at the open window, turning the leaves of some +book of artistic or antiquarian reference that he had given her. +She always had a smile, she was always eager, alert, responsive. +She might be grave by nature, she might be sad by circumstance, +she might have secret doubts and pangs, but she was essentially +young and strong and fresh and able to enjoy. Her enjoyment +was not especially demonstrative, but it was curiously diligent. +Rowland felt that it was not amusement and sensation that she coveted, +but knowledge--facts that she might noiselessly lay away, piece by piece, +in the perfumed darkness of her serious mind, so that, under this +head at least, she should not be a perfectly portionless bride. +She never merely pretended to understand; she let things go, in her +modest fashion, at the moment, but she watched them on their way, +over the crest of the hill, and when her fancy seemed not likely +to be missed it went hurrying after them and ran breathless +at their side, as it were, and begged them for the secret. +Rowland took an immense satisfaction in observing that she never mistook +the second-best for the best, and that when she was in the presence +of a masterpiece, she recognized the occasion as a mighty one. +She said many things which he thought very profound-- +that is, if they really had the fine intention he suspected. +This point he usually tried to ascertain; but he was obliged +to proceed cautiously, for in her mistrustful shyness it seemed +to her that cross-examination must necessarily be ironical. +She wished to know just where she was going--what she would gain or lose. +This was partly on account of a native intellectual purity, a temper +of mind that had not lived with its door ajar, as one might say, +upon the high-road of thought, for passing ideas to drop in and out +at their pleasure; but had made much of a few long visits from guests +cherished and honored--guests whose presence was a solemnity. +But it was even more because she was conscious of a sort of growing +self-respect, a sense of devoting her life not to her own ends, +but to those of another, whose life would be large and brilliant. +She had been brought up to think a great deal of "nature" and nature's +innocent laws; but now Rowland had spoken to her ardently of culture; +her strenuous fancy had responded, and she was pursuing culture +into retreats where the need for some intellectual effort gave +a noble severity to her purpose. She wished to be very sure, +to take only the best, knowing it to be the best. There was something +exquisite in this labor of pious self-adornment, and Rowland helped it, +though its fruits were not for him. In spite of her lurking rigidity +and angularity, it was very evident that a nervous, impulsive sense +of beauty was constantly at play in her soul, and that her actual +experience of beautiful things moved her in some very deep places. +For all that she was not demonstrative, that her manner was simple, +and her small-talk of no very ample flow; for all that, as she had said, +she was a young woman from the country, and the country was West Nazareth, +and West Nazareth was in its way a stubborn little fact, she was +feeling the direct influence of the great amenities of the world, +and they were shaping her with a divinely intelligent touch. +"Oh exquisite virtue of circumstance!" cried Rowland to himself, +"that takes us by the hand and leads us forth out of corners where, +perforce, our attitudes are a trifle contracted, and beguiles us +into testing mistrusted faculties!" When he said to Mary Garland +that he wished he might see her ten years hence, he was paying +mentally an equal compliment to circumstance and to the girl herself. +Capacity was there, it could be freely trusted; observation would +have but to sow its generous seed. "A superior woman"-- +the idea had harsh associations, but he watched it imaging itself +in the vagueness of the future with a kind of hopeless confidence. + +They went a great deal to Saint Peter's, for which Rowland had +an exceeding affection, a large measure of which he succeeded +in infusing into his companion. She confessed very speedily +that to climb the long, low, yellow steps, beneath the huge +florid fa;alcade, and then to push the ponderous leathern apron +of the door, to find one's self confronted with that builded, +luminous sublimity, was a sensation of which the keenness +renewed itself with surprising generosity. In those days +the hospitality of the Vatican had not been curtailed, and it +was an easy and delightful matter to pass from the gorgeous +church to the solemn company of the antique marbles. +Here Rowland had with his companion a great deal of talk, +and found himself expounding aesthetics a perte de vue. +He discovered that she made notes of her likes and dislikes in a +new-looking little memorandum book, and he wondered to what extent +she reported his own discourse. These were charming hours. +The galleries had been so cold all winter that Rowland had been +an exile from them; but now that the sun was already scorching +in the great square between the colonnades, where the twin +fountains flashed almost fiercely, the marble coolness of +the long, image-bordered vistas made them a delightful refuge. +The great herd of tourists had almost departed, and our two +friends often found themselves, for half an hour at a time, +in sole and tranquil possession of the beautiful Braccio Nuovo. +Here and there was an open window, where they lingered and leaned, +looking out into the warm, dead air, over the towers of +the city, at the soft-hued, historic hills, at the stately +shabby gardens of the palace, or at some sunny, empty, +grass-grown court, lost in the heart of the labyrinthine pile. +They went sometimes into the chambers painted by Raphael, +and of course paid their respects to the Sistine Chapel; +but Mary's evident preference was to linger among the statues. +Once, when they were standing before that noblest of sculptured +portraits, the so-called Demosthenes, in the Braccio Nuovo, +she made the only spontaneous allusion to her projected marriage, +direct or indirect, that had yet fallen from her lips. +"I am so glad," she said, "that Roderick is a sculptor and +not a painter." + +The allusion resided chiefly in the extreme earnestness with which the words +were uttered. Rowland immediately asked her the reason of her gladness. + +"It 's not that painting is not fine," she said, "but that sculpture +is finer. It is more manly." + +Rowland tried at times to make her talk about herself, but in this she +had little skill. She seemed to him so much older, so much more pliant +to social uses than when he had seen her at home, that he had a desire +to draw from her some categorical account of her occupation and thoughts. +He told her his desire and what suggested it. "It appears, then," she said, +"that, after all, one can grow at home!" + +"Unquestionably, if one has a motive. Your growth, then, was unconscious? +You did not watch yourself and water your roots?" + +She paid no heed to his question. "I am willing to grant," +she said, "that Europe is more delightful than I supposed; +and I don't think that, mentally, I had been stingy. +But you must admit that America is better than you have supposed." + +"I have not a fault to find with the country which produced you!" +Rowland thought he might risk this, smiling. + +"And yet you want me to change--to assimilate Europe, I suppose +you would call it." + +"I have felt that desire only on general principles. Shall I tell you +what I feel now? America has made you thus far; let America finish you! +I should like to ship you back without delay and see what becomes of you. +That sounds unkind, and I admit there is a cold intellectual curiosity in it." + +She shook her head. "The charm is broken; the thread is snapped! +I prefer to remain here." + +Invariably, when he was inclined to make of something they were talking +of a direct application to herself, she wholly failed to assist him; +she made no response. Whereupon, once, with a spark of ardent irritation, +he told her she was very "secretive." At this she colored a little, +and he said that in default of any larger confidence it would at least +be a satisfaction to make her confess to that charge. But even this +satisfaction she denied him, and his only revenge was in making, +two or three times afterward, a softly ironical allusion to her slyness. +He told her that she was what is called in French a sournoise. +"Very good," she answered, almost indifferently, "and now please tell +me again--I have forgotten it--what you said an 'architrave' was." + +It was on the occasion of her asking him a question of this kind +that he charged her, with a humorous emphasis in which, also, if she +had been curious in the matter, she might have detected a spark +of restless ardor, with having an insatiable avidity for facts. +"You are always snatching at information," he said; "you will never +consent to have any disinterested conversation." + +She frowned a little, as she always did when he arrested +their talk upon something personal. But this time +she assented, and said that she knew she was eager for facts. +"One must make hay while the sun shines," she added. +"I must lay up a store of learning against dark days. +Somehow, my imagination refuses to compass the idea that I +may be in Rome indefinitely." + +He knew he had divined her real motives; but he felt that if he might +have said to her--what it seemed impossible to say--that fortune +possibly had in store for her a bitter disappointment, she would have +been capable of answering, immediately after the first sense of pain, +"Say then that I am laying up resources for solitude!" + +But all the accusations were not his. He had been watching, once, +during some brief argument, to see whether she would take her forefinger +out of her Murray, into which she had inserted it to keep a certain page. +It would have been hard to say why this point interested him, for he had +not the slightest real apprehension that she was dry or pedantic. +The simple human truth was, the poor fellow was jealous of science. +In preaching science to her, he had over-estimated his powers +of self-effacement. Suddenly, sinking science for the moment, +she looked at him very frankly and began to frown. At the same time +she let the Murray slide down to the ground, and he was so charmed +with this circumstance that he made no movement to pick it up. + +"You are singularly inconsistent, Mr. Mallet," she said. + +"How?" + +"That first day that we were in Saint Peter's you said +things that inspired me. You bade me plunge into all this. +I was all ready; I only wanted a little push; yours was a great one; +here I am in mid-ocean! And now, as a reward for my bravery, +you have repeatedly snubbed me." + +"Distinctly, then," said Rowland, "I strike you as inconsistent?" + +"That is the word." + +"Then I have played my part very ill." + +"Your part? What is your part supposed to have been?" + +He hesitated a moment. "That of usefulness, pure and simple." + +"I don't understand you!" she said; and picking up her Murray, +she fairly buried herself in it. + +That evening he said something to her which necessarily increased +her perplexity, though it was not uttered with such an intention. +"Do you remember," he asked, "my begging you, the other day, to do +occasionally as I told you? It seemed to me you tacitly consented." + +"Very tacitly." + +"I have never yet really presumed on your consent. But now I would +like you to do this: whenever you catch me in the act of what you +call inconsistency, ask me the meaning of some architectural term. +I will know what you mean; a word to the wise!" + +One morning they spent among the ruins of the Palatine, +that sunny desolation of crumbling, over-tangled fragments, +half excavated and half identified, known as the Palace +of the Caesars. Nothing in Rome is more interesting, +and no locality has such a confusion of picturesque charms. +It is a vast, rambling garden, where you stumble at every +step on the disinterred bones of the past; where damp, +frescoed corridors, relics, possibly, of Nero's Golden House, +serve as gigantic bowers, and where, in the springtime, +you may sit on a Latin inscription, in the shade of a flowering +almond-tree, and admire the composition of the Campagna. +The day left a deep impression on Rowland's mind, partly owing +to its intrinsic sweetness, and partly because his companion, +on this occasion, let her Murray lie unopened for an hour, +and asked several questions irrelevant to the Consuls +and the Caesars. She had begun by saying that it was coming +over her, after all, that Rome was a ponderously sad place. +The sirocco was gently blowing, the air was heavy, she was tired, +she looked a little pale. + +"Everything," she said, "seems to say that all things are vanity. +If one is doing something, I suppose one feels a certain strength within +one to contradict it. But if one is idle, surely it is depressing to live, +year after year, among the ashes of things that once were mighty. +If I were to remain here I should either become permanently 'low,' +as they say, or I would take refuge in some dogged daily work." + +"What work?" + +"I would open a school for those beautiful little beggars; +though I am sadly afraid I should never bring myself to scold them." + +"I am idle," said Rowland, "and yet I have kept up a certain spirit." + +"I don't call you idle," she answered with emphasis. + +"It is very good of you. Do you remember our talking about +that in Northampton?" + +"During that picnic? Perfectly. Has your coming abroad succeeded, +for yourself, as well as you hoped?" + +"I think I may say that it has turned out as well as I expected." + +"Are you happy?" + +"Don't I look so?" + +"So it seems to me. But"--and she hesitated a moment--"I imagine +you look happy whether you are so or not." + +"I 'm like that ancient comic mask that we saw just now in yonder +excavated fresco: I am made to grin." + +"Shall you come back here next winter?" + +"Very probably." + +"Are you settled here forever?" + +" 'Forever' is a long time. I live only from year to year." + +"Shall you never marry?" + +Rowland gave a laugh. " 'Forever'--'never!' You handle large ideas. +I have not taken a vow of celibacy." + +"Would n't you like to marry?" + +"I should like it immensely." + +To this she made no rejoinder: but presently she asked, +"Why don't you write a book?" + +Rowland laughed, this time more freely. "A book! +What book should I write?" + +"A history; something about art or antiquities." + +"I have neither the learning nor the talent." + +She made no attempt to contradict him; she simply said +she had supposed otherwise. "You ought, at any rate," +she continued in a moment, "to do something for yourself." + +"For myself? I should have supposed that if ever a man seemed +to live for himself"-- + +"I don't know how it seems," she interrupted, "to careless observers. +But we know--we know that you have lived--a great deal--for us." + +Her voice trembled slightly, and she brought out the last words +with a little jerk. + +"She has had that speech on her conscience," thought Rowland; +"she has been thinking she owed it to me, and it seemed to her +that now was her time to make it and have done with it." + +She went on in a way which confirmed these reflections, speaking with +due solemnity. "You ought to be made to know very well what we all feel. +Mrs. Hudson tells me that she has told you what she feels. Of course +Roderick has expressed himself. I have been wanting to thank you too; +I do, from my heart." + +Rowland made no answer; his face at this moment resembled the tragic +mask much more than the comic. But Miss Garland was not looking at him; +she had taken up her Murray again. + +In the afternoon she usually drove with Mrs. Hudson, but Rowland +frequently saw her again in the evening. He was apt to spend +half an hour in the little sitting-room at the hotel-pension +on the slope of the Pincian, and Roderick, who dined regularly +with his mother, was present on these occasions. Rowland saw +him little at other times, and for three weeks no observations +passed between them on the subject of Mrs. Hudson's advent. +To Rowland's vision, as the weeks elapsed, the benefits +to proceed from the presence of the two ladies remained +shrouded in mystery. Roderick was peculiarly inscrutable. +He was preoccupied with his work on his mother's portrait, +which was taking a very happy turn; and often, when he sat silent, +with his hands in his pockets, his legs outstretched, his head +thrown back, and his eyes on vacancy, it was to be supposed +that his fancy was hovering about the half-shaped image in +his studio, exquisite even in its immaturity. He said little, +but his silence did not of necessity imply disaffection, +for he evidently found it a deep personal luxury to lounge away +the hours in an atmosphere so charged with feminine tenderness. +He was not alert, he suggested nothing in the way of excursions +(Rowland was the prime mover in such as were attempted), +but he conformed passively at least to the tranquil temper of +the two women, and made no harsh comments nor sombre allusions. +Rowland wondered whether he had, after all, done his +friend injustice in denying him the sentiment of duty. +He refused invitations, to Rowland's knowledge, in order to dine +at the jejune little table-d'hote; wherever his spirit might be, +he was present in the flesh with religious constancy. +Mrs. Hudson's felicity betrayed itself in a remarkable tendency +to finish her sentences and wear her best black silk gown. +Her tremors had trembled away; she was like a child who discovers +that the shaggy monster it has so long been afraid to touch +is an inanimate terror, compounded of straw and saw-dust, +and that it is even a safe audacity to tickle its nose. +As to whether the love-knot of which Mary Garland had +the keeping still held firm, who should pronounce? +The young girl, as we know, did not wear it on her sleeve. +She always sat at the table, near the candles, with a piece +of needle-work. This was the attitude in which Rowland had +first seen her, and he thought, now that he had seen her +in several others, it was not the least becoming. + + + + + + +CHAPTER X. The Cavaliere + +There befell at last a couple of days during which Rowland was unable +to go to the hotel. Late in the evening of the second one Roderick +came into his room. In a few moments he announced that he had finished +the bust of his mother. + +"And it 's magnificent!" he declared. "It 's one of the best +things I have done." + +"I believe it," said Rowland. "Never again talk to me about +your inspiration being dead." + +"Why not? This may be its last kick! I feel very tired. +But it 's a masterpiece, though I do say it. They tell us +we owe so much to our parents. Well, I 've paid the filial +debt handsomely!" He walked up and down the room a few moments, +with the purpose of his visit evidently still undischarged. +"There 's one thing more I want to say," he presently resumed. +"I feel as if I ought to tell you!" He stopped before Rowland +with his head high and his brilliant glance unclouded. +"Your invention is a failure!" + +"My invention?" Rowland repeated. + +"Bringing out my mother and Mary." + +"A failure?" + +"It 's no use! They don't help me." + +Rowland had fancied that Roderick had no more surprises for him; +but he was now staring at him, wide-eyed. + +"They bore me!" Roderick went on. + +"Oh, oh!" cried Rowland. + +"Listen, listen!" said Roderick with perfect gentleness. +"I am not complaining of them; I am simply stating a fact. +I am very sorry for them; I am greatly disappointed." + +"Have you given them a fair trial?" + +"Should n't you say so? It seems to me I have behaved beautifully." + +"You have done very well; I have been building great hopes on it." + +"I have done too well, then. After the first forty-eight hours +my own hopes collapsed. But I determined to fight it out; +to stand within the temple; to let the spirit of the Lord descend! +Do you want to know the result? Another week of it, and I shall +begin to hate them. I shall want to poison them." + +"Miserable boy!" cried Rowland. "They are the loveliest of women!" + +"Very likely! But they mean no more to me than a Bible text +to an atheist!" + +"I utterly fail," said Rowland, in a moment, "to understand your relation +to Miss Garland." + +Roderick shrugged his shoulders and let his hands drop at his sides. +"She adores me! That 's my relation." And he smiled strangely. + +"Have you broken your engagement?" + +"Broken it? You can't break a ray of moonshine." + +"Have you absolutely no affection for her?" + +Roderick placed his hand on his heart and held it there a moment. +"Dead--dead--dead!" he said at last. + +"I wonder," Rowland asked presently, "if you begin +to comprehend the beauty of Miss Garland's character. +She is a person of the highest merit." + +"Evidently--or I would not have cared for her!" + +"Has that no charm for you now?" + +"Oh, don't force a fellow to say rude things!" + +"Well, I can only say that you don't know what you are giving up." + +Roderick gave a quickened glance. "Do you know, so well?" + +"I admire her immeasurably." + +Roderick smiled, we may almost say sympathetically. +"You have not wasted time." + +Rowland's thoughts were crowding upon him fast. If Roderick +was resolute, why oppose him? If Mary was to be sacrificed, +why, in that way, try to save her? There was another way; +it only needed a little presumption to make it possible. +Rowland tried, mentally, to summon presumption to his aid; +but whether it came or not, it found conscience there before it. +Conscience had only three words, but they were cogent. +"For her sake--for her sake," it dumbly murmured, and Rowland +resumed his argument. "I don't know what I would n't do," +he said, "rather than that Miss Garland should suffer." + +"There is one thing to be said," Roderick answered reflectively. +"She is very strong." + +"Well, then, if she 's strong, believe that with a longer chance, +a better chance, she will still regain your affection." + +"Do you know what you ask?" cried Roderick. "Make love to a girl I hate?" + +"You hate?" + +"As her lover, I should hate her!" + +"Listen to me!" said Rowland with vehemence. + +"No, listen you to me! Do you really urge my marrying a woman who +would bore me to death? I would let her know it in very good season, +and then where would she be?" + +Rowland walked the length of the room a couple of times and then +stopped suddenly. "Go your way, then! Say all this to her, +not to me!" + +"To her? I am afraid of her; I want you to help me." + +"My dear Roderick," said Rowland with an eloquent smile, +"I can help you no more!" + +Roderick frowned, hesitated a moment, and then took his hat. +"Oh, well," he said, "I am not so afraid of her as all that!" +And he turned, as if to depart. + +"Stop!" cried Rowland, as he laid his hand on the door. + +Roderick paused and stood waiting, with his irritated brow. + +"Come back; sit down there and listen to me. Of anything you were to say +in your present state of mind you would live most bitterly to repent. +You don't know what you really think; you don't know what you really feel. +You don't know your own mind; you don't do justice to Miss Garland. +All this is impossible here, under these circumstances. You 're blind, +you 're deaf, you 're under a spell. To break it, you must leave Rome." + +"Leave Rome! Rome was never so dear to me." + +"That 's not of the smallest consequence. Leave it instantly." + +"And where shall I go?" + +"Go to some place where you may be alone with your mother and Miss Garland." + +"Alone? You will not come?" + +"Oh, if you desire it, I will come." + +Roderick inclining his head a little, looked at his friend askance. +"I don't understand you," he said; "I wish you liked Miss Garland +either a little less, or a little more." + +Rowland felt himself coloring, but he paid no heed to Roderick's speech. +"You ask me to help you," he went on. "On these present conditions I can +do nothing. But if you will postpone all decision as to the continuance +of your engagement a couple of months longer, and meanwhile leave Rome, +leave Italy, I will do what I can to 'help you,' as you say, in the event +of your still wishing to break it." + +"I must do without your help then! Your conditions are impossible. +I will leave Rome at the time I have always intended--at the end of June. +My rooms and my mother's are taken till then; all my arrangements are +made accordingly. Then, I will depart; not before." + +"You are not frank," said Rowland. "Your real reason for staying +has nothing to do with your rooms." + +Roderick's face betrayed neither embarrassment nor resentment. +"If I 'm not frank, it 's for the first time in my life. +Since you know so much about my real reason, let me hear it! +No, stop!" he suddenly added, "I won't trouble you. +You are right, I have a motive. On the twenty-fourth of June +Miss Light is to be married. I take an immense interest in all +that concerns her, and I wish to be present at her wedding." + +"But you said the other day at Saint Peter's that it was by no means +certain her marriage would take place." + +"Apparently I was wrong: the invitations, I am told, are going out." + +Rowland felt that it would be utterly vain to remonstrate, +and that the only thing for him was to make the best terms possible. +"If I offer no further opposition to your waiting for Miss Light's marriage," +he said, "will you promise, meanwhile and afterwards, for a certain period, +to defer to my judgment--to say nothing that may be a cause of suffering +to Miss Garland?" + +"For a certain period? What period?" Roderick demanded. + +"Ah, don't drive so close a bargain! Don't you understand that I have +taken you away from her, that I suffer in every nerve in consequence, +and that I must do what I can to restore you?" + +"Do what you can, then," said Roderick gravely, putting out his hand. +"Do what you can!" His tone and his hand-shake seemed to constitute +a promise, and upon this they parted. + +Roderick's bust of his mother, whether or no it was a discharge of what +he called the filial debt, was at least a most admirable production. +Rowland, at the time it was finished, met Gloriani one evening, +and this unscrupulous genius immediately began to ask questions about it. +"I am told our high-flying friend has come down," he said. +"He has been doing a queer little old woman." + +"A queer little old woman!" Rowland exclaimed. "My dear sir, +she is Hudson's mother." + +"All the more reason for her being queer! It is a bust for terra-cotta, eh?" + +"By no means; it is for marble." + +"That 's a pity. It was described to me as a charming piece of quaintness: +a little demure, thin-lipped old lady, with her head on one side, +and the prettiest wrinkles in the world--a sort of fairy godmother." + +"Go and see it, and judge for yourself," said Rowland. + +"No, I see I shall be disappointed. It 's quite the other thing, +the sort of thing they put into the campo-santos. I wish that boy +would listen to me an hour!" + +But a day or two later Rowland met him again in the street, and, +as they were near, proposed they should adjourn to Roderick's studio. +He consented, and on entering they found the young master. +Roderick's demeanor to Gloriani was never conciliatory, +and on this occasion supreme indifference was apparently all +he had to offer. But Gloriani, like a genuine connoisseur, +cared nothing for his manners; he cared only for his skill. +In the bust of Mrs. Hudson there was something almost touching; +it was an exquisite example of a ruling sense of beauty. +The poor lady's small, neat, timorous face had certainly no +great character, but Roderick had reproduced its sweetness, +its mildness, its minuteness, its still maternal passion, +with the most unerring art. It was perfectly unflattered, +and yet admirably tender; it was the poetry of fidelity. +Gloriani stood looking at it a long time most intently. +Roderick wandered away into the neighboring room. + +"I give it up!" said the sculptor at last. "I don't understand it." + +"But you like it?" said Rowland. + +"Like it? It 's a pearl of pearls. Tell me this," he added: +"is he very fond of his mother; is he a very good son?" +And he gave Rowland a sharp look. + +"Why, she adores him," said Rowland, smiling. + +"That 's not an answer! But it 's none of my business. +Only if I, in his place, being suspected of having-- +what shall I call it?--a cold heart, managed to do that piece +of work, oh, oh! I should be called a pretty lot of names. +Charlatan, poseur, arrangeur! But he can do as he chooses! +My dear young man, I know you don't like me," he went on, +as Roderick came back. "It 's a pity; you are strong enough +not to care about me at all. You are very strong." + +"Not at all," said Roderick curtly. "I am very weak!" + +"I told you last year that you would n't keep it up. +I was a great ass. You will!" + +"I beg your pardon--I won't!" retorted Roderick. + +"Though I 'm a great ass, all the same, eh? Well, call me +what you will, so long as you turn out this sort of thing! +I don't suppose it makes any particular difference, but I +should like to say now I believe in you." + +Roderick stood looking at him for a moment with a strange hardness +in his face. It flushed slowly, and two glittering, angry tears +filled his eyes. It was the first time Rowland had ever seen +them there; he saw them but once again. Poor Gloriani, he was sure, +had never in his life spoken with less of irony; but to Roderick +there was evidently a sense of mockery in his profession of faith. +He turned away with a muttered, passionate imprecation. +Gloriani was accustomed to deal with complex problems, but this +time he was hopelessly puzzled. "What 's the matter with him?" +he asked, simply. + +Rowland gave a sad smile, and touched his forehead. +"Genius, I suppose." + +Gloriani sent another parting, lingering look at the bust of Mrs. Hudson. +"Well, it 's deuced perfect, it 's deuced simple; I do believe in him!" +he said. "But I 'm glad I 'm not a genius. It makes," he added with a laugh, +as he looked for Roderick to wave him good-by, and saw his back still turned, +"it makes a more sociable studio." + +Rowland had purchased, as he supposed, temporary tranquillity +for Mary Garland; but his own humor in these days was not +especially peaceful. He was attempting, in a certain sense, +to lead the ideal life, and he found it, at the least, not easy. +The days passed, but brought with them no official invitation +to Miss Light's wedding. He occasionally met her, and he +occasionally met Prince Casamassima; but always separately, +never together. They were apparently taking their happiness +in the inexpressive manner proper to people of social eminence. +Rowland continued to see Madame Grandoni, for whom he felt +a confirmed affection. He had always talked to her with frankness, +but now he made her a confidant of all his hidden dejection. +Roderick and Roderick's concerns had been a common theme +with him, and it was in the natural course to talk +of Mrs. Hudson's arrival and Miss Garland's fine smile. +Madame Grandoni was an intelligent listener, and she +lost no time in putting his case for him in a nutshell. +"At one moment you tell me the girl is plain," she said; +"the next you tell me she 's pretty. I will invite them, +and I shall see for myself. But one thing is very clear: +you are in love with her." + +Rowland, for all answer, glanced round to see that no one heard her. + +"More than that," she added, "you have been in love with her these two years. +There was that certain something about you!.... I knew you were a mild, +sweet fellow, but you had a touch of it more than was natural. +Why did n't you tell me at once? You would have saved me +a great deal of trouble. And poor Augusta Blanchard too!" +And herewith Madame Grandoni communicated a pertinent fact: +Augusta Blanchard and Mr. Leavenworth were going to make a match. +The young lady had been staying for a month at Albano, and Mr. Leavenworth +had been dancing attendance. The event was a matter of course. +Rowland, who had been lately reproaching himself with a failure +of attention to Miss Blanchard's doings, made some such observation. + +"But you did not find it so!" cried his hostess. +"It was a matter of course, perhaps, that Mr. Leavenworth, +who seems to be going about Europe with the sole view of picking +up furniture for his 'home,' as he calls it, should think Miss +Blanchard a very handsome piece; but it was not a matter of course-- +or it need n't have been--that she should be willing to become +a sort of superior table-ornament. She would have accepted you +if you had tried." + +"You are supposing the insupposable," said Rowland. +"She never gave me a particle of encouragement." + +"What would you have had her do? The poor girl did her best, +and I am sure that when she accepted Mr. Leavenworth she +thought of you." + +"She thought of the pleasure her marriage would give me." + +"Ay, pleasure indeed! She is a thoroughly good girl, +but she has her little grain of feminine spite, like the rest. +Well, he 's richer than you, and she will have what she wants; +but before I forgive you I must wait and see this new arrival-- +what do you call her?--Miss Garland. If I like her, I will +forgive you; if I don't, I shall always bear you a grudge." + +Rowland answered that he was sorry to forfeit any advantage she +might offer him, but that his exculpatory passion for Miss Garland +was a figment of her fancy. Miss Garland was engaged to another man, +and he himself had no claims. + +"Well, then," said Madame Grandoni, "if I like her, +we 'll have it that you ought to be in love with her. +If you fail in this, it will be a double misdemeanor. +The man she 's engaged to does n't care a straw for her. +Leave me alone and I 'll tell her what I think of you." + +As to Christina Light's marriage, Madame Grandoni could make no +definite statement. The young girl, of late, had made her several +flying visits, in the intervals of the usual pre-matrimonial +shopping and dress-fitting; she had spoken of the event with +a toss of her head, as a matter which, with a wise old friend +who viewed things in their essence, she need not pretend to treat +as a solemnity. It was for Prince Casamassima to do that. +"It is what they call a marriage of reason," she once said. +"That means, you know, a marriage of madness!" + +"What have you said in the way of advice?" Rowland asked. + +"Very little, but that little has favored the prince. +I know nothing of the mysteries of the young lady's heart. +It may be a gold-mine, but at any rate it 's a mine, and it 's +a long journey down into it. But the marriage in itself is an +excellent marriage. It 's not only brilliant, but it 's safe. +I think Christina is quite capable of making it a means of misery; +but there is no position that would be sacred to her. +Casamassima is an irreproachable young man; there is nothing +against him but that he is a prince. It is not often, I fancy, +that a prince has been put through his paces at this rate. +No one knows the wedding-day; the cards of invitation have +been printed half a dozen times over, with a different date; +each time Christina has destroyed them. There are people +in Rome who are furious at the delay; they want to get away; +they are in a dreadful fright about the fever, but they +are dying to see the wedding, and if the day were fixed, +they would make their arrangements to wait for it. +I think it very possible that after having kept them a month +and produced a dozen cases of malaria, Christina will be married +at midnight by an old friar, with simply the legal witnesses." + +"It is true, then, that she has become a Catholic?" + +"So she tells me. One day she got up in the depths of despair; +at her wit's end, I suppose, in other words, for a new sensation. +Suddenly it occurred to her that the Catholic church might after all +hold the key, might give her what she wanted! She sent for a priest; +he happened to be a clever man, and he contrived to interest her. +She put on a black dress and a black lace veil, and looking +handsomer than ever she rustled into the Catholic church. +The prince, who is very devout, and who had her heresy +sorely on his conscience, was thrown into an ecstasy. +May she never have a caprice that pleases him less!" + +Rowland had already asked Madame Grandoni what, to her perception, +was the present state of matters between Christina and Roderick; +and he now repeated his question with some earnestness of apprehension. +"The girl is so deucedly dramatic," he said, "that I don't know what coup de +theatre she may have in store for us. Such a stroke was her turning Catholic; +such a stroke would be her some day making her courtesy to a disappointed +world as Princess Casamassima, married at midnight, in her bonnet. +She might do--she may do--something that would make even more starers! +I 'm prepared for anything." + +"You mean that she might elope with your sculptor, eh?" + +"I 'm prepared for anything!" + +"Do you mean that he 's ready?" + +"Do you think that she is?" + +"They 're a precious pair! I think this. You by no means +exhaust the subject when you say that Christina is dramatic. +It 's my belief that in the course of her life she will do +a certain number of things from pure disinterested passion. +She 's immeasurably proud, and if that is often a fault +in a virtuous person, it may be a merit in a vicious one. +She needs to think well of herself; she knows a fine character, +easily, when she meets one; she hates to suffer by comparison, +even though the comparison is made by herself alone; +and when the estimate she may have made of herself grows vague, +she needs to do something to give it definite, impressive form. +What she will do in such a case will be better or worse, +according to her opportunity; but I imagine it will generally +be something that will drive her mother to despair; +something of the sort usually termed 'unworldly.' " + +Rowland, as he was taking his leave, after some further +exchange of opinions, rendered Miss Light the tribute of a +deeply meditative sigh. "She has bothered me half to death," +he said, "but somehow I can't manage, as I ought, to hate her. +I admire her, half the time, and a good part of the rest +I pity her." + +"I think I most pity her!" said Madame Grandoni. + +This enlightened woman came the next day to call upon the two ladies +from Northampton. She carried their shy affections by storm, and made +them promise to drink tea with her on the evening of the morrow. +Her visit was an era in the life of poor Mrs. Hudson, who did nothing +but make sudden desultory allusions to her, for the next thirty-six hours. +"To think of her being a foreigner!" she would exclaim, after much +intent reflection, over her knitting; "she speaks so beautifully!" +Then in a little while, "She was n't so much dressed as you might +have expected. Did you notice how easy it was in the waist? +I wonder if that 's the fashion?" Or, "She 's very old to wear a hat; +I should never dare to wear a hat!" Or, "Did you notice her hands?-- +very pretty hands for such a stout person. A great many rings, +but nothing very handsome. I suppose they are hereditary." Or, "She 's +certainly not handsome, but she 's very sweet-looking. I wonder why +she does n't have something done to her teeth." Rowland also received +a summons to Madame Grandoni's tea-drinking, and went betimes, +as he had been requested. He was eagerly desirous to lend his mute +applause to Mary Garland's debut in the Roman social world. The two +ladies had arrived, with Roderick, silent and careless, in attendance. +Miss Blanchard was also present, escorted by Mr. Leavenworth, and the party +was completed by a dozen artists of both sexes and various nationalities. +It was a friendly and easy assembly, like all Madame Grandoni's parties, +and in the course of the evening there was some excellent music. +People played and sang for Madame Grandoni, on easy terms, who, elsewhere, +were not to be heard for the asking. She was herself a superior musician, +and singers found it a privilege to perform to her accompaniment. +Rowland talked to various persons, but for the first time in his life his +attention visibly wandered; he could not keep his eyes off Mary Garland. +Madame Grandoni had said that he sometimes spoke of her as pretty +and sometimes as plain; to-night, if he had had occasion to describe +her appearance, he would have called her beautiful. She was dressed +more than he had ever seen her; it was becoming, and gave her a deeper +color and an ampler presence. Two or three persons were introduced +to her who were apparently witty people, for she sat listening to them +with her brilliant natural smile. Rowland, from an opposite corner, +reflected that he had never varied in his appreciation of Miss +Blanchard's classic contour, but that somehow, to-night, it impressed +him hardly more than an effigy stamped upon a coin of low value. +Roderick could not be accused of rancor, for he had approached +Mr. Leavenworth with unstudied familiarity, and, lounging against the wall, +with hands in pockets, was discoursing to him with candid serenity. +Now that he had done him an impertinence, he evidently found him +less intolerable. Mr. Leavenworth stood stirring his tea and silently +opening and shutting his mouth, without looking at the young sculptor, +like a large, drowsy dog snapping at flies. Rowland had found +it disagreeable to be told Miss Blanchard would have married him +for the asking, and he would have felt some embarrassment in going +to speak to her if his modesty had not found incredulity so easy. +The facile side of a union with Miss Blanchard had never been present +to his mind; it had struck him as a thing, in all ways, to be +compassed with a great effort. He had half an hour's talk with her; +a farewell talk, as it seemed to him--a farewell not to a real illusion, +but to the idea that for him, in that matter, there could ever +be an acceptable pis-aller. He congratulated Miss Blanchard upon +her engagement, and she received his compliment with a touch of primness. +But she was always a trifle prim, even when she was quoting Mrs. Browning +and George Sand, and this harmless defect did not prevent her responding +on this occasion that Mr. Leavenworth had a "glorious heart." +Rowland wished to manifest an extreme regard, but toward the end +of the talk his zeal relaxed, and he fell a-thinking that a certain +natural ease in a woman was the most delightful thing in the world. +There was Christina Light, who had too much, and here was Miss Blanchard, +who had too little, and there was Mary Garland (in whom the quality +was wholly uncultivated), who had just the right amount. + +He went to Madame Grandoni in an adjoining room, where she +was pouring out tea. + +"I will make you an excellent cup," she said, "because I have forgiven you." + +He looked at her, answering nothing; but he swallowed his +tea with great gusto, and a slight deepening of his color; +by all of which one would have known that he was gratified. +In a moment he intimated that, in so far as he had sinned, +he had forgiven himself. + +"She is a lovely girl," said Madame Grandoni. "There is a great deal there. +I have taken a great fancy to her, and she must let me make a friend of her." + +"She is very plain," said Rowland, slowly, "very simple, very ignorant." + +"Which, being interpreted, means, 'She is very handsome, very subtle, +and has read hundreds of volumes on winter evenings in the country.' +" + +"You are a veritable sorceress," cried Rowland; "you frighten me away!" +As he was turning to leave her, there rose above the hum of voices +in the drawing-room the sharp, grotesque note of a barking dog. +Their eyes met in a glance of intelligence. + +"There is the sorceress!" said Madame Grandoni. +"The sorceress and her necromantic poodle!" And she hastened +back to the post of hospitality. + +Rowland followed her, and found Christina Light standing in the middle +of the drawing-room, and looking about in perplexity. Her poodle, +sitting on his haunches and gazing at the company, had apparently been +expressing a sympathetic displeasure at the absence of a welcome. +But in a moment Madame Grandoni had come to the young girl's relief, +and Christina had tenderly kissed her. + +"I had no idea," said Christina, surveying the assembly, "that you +had such a lot of grand people, or I would not have come in. +The servant said nothing; he took me for an invitee. I came +to spend a neighborly half-hour; you know I have n't many left! +It was too dismally dreary at home. I hoped I should find +you alone, and I brought Stenterello to play with the cat. +I don't know that if I had known about all this I would have dared +to come in; but since I 've stumbled into the midst of it, I beg +you 'll let me stay. I am not dressed, but am I very hideous? +I will sit in a corner and no one will notice me. +My dear, sweet lady, do let me stay. Pray, why did n't you +ask me? I never have been to a little party like this. +They must be very charming. No dancing--tea and conversation? +No tea, thank you; but if you could spare a biscuit for Stenterello; +a sweet biscuit, please. Really, why did n't you ask me? +Do you have these things often? Madame Grandoni, it 's very unkind!" +And the young girl, who had delivered herself of the foregoing +succession of sentences in her usual low, cool, penetrating voice, +uttered these last words with a certain tremor of feeling. +"I see," she went on, "I do very well for balls and great banquets, +but when people wish to have a cosy, friendly, comfortable evening, +they leave me out, with the big flower-pots and the gilt candlesticks." + +"I 'm sure you 're welcome to stay, my dear," said Madame Grandoni, +"and at the risk of displeasing you I must confess that if I +did n't invite you, it was because you 're too grand. +Your dress will do very well, with its fifty flounces, +and there is no need of your going into a corner. +Indeed, since you 're here, I propose to have the glory of it. +You must remain where my people can see you." + +"They are evidently determined to do that by the way they stare. +Do they think I intend to dance a tarantella? Who are they all; +do I know them?" And lingering in the middle of the room, with her +arm passed into Madame Grandoni's, she let her eyes wander slowly +from group to group. They were of course observing her. Standing in +the little circle of lamplight, with the hood of an Eastern burnous, +shot with silver threads, falling back from her beautiful head, +one hand gathering together its voluminous, shimmering folds, +and the other playing with the silken top-knot on the uplifted +head of her poodle, she was a figure of radiant picturesqueness. +She seemed to be a sort of extemporized tableau vivant. +Rowland's position made it becoming for him to speak +to her without delay. As she looked at him he saw that, +judging by the light of her beautiful eyes, she was in a +humor of which she had not yet treated him to a specimen. +In a simpler person he would have called it exquisite kindness; +but in this young lady's deportment the flower was one thing and +the perfume another. "Tell me about these people," she said to him. +"I had no idea there were so many people in Rome I had not seen. +What are they all talking about? It 's all beyond me, I suppose. +There is Miss Blanchard, sitting as usual in profile against +a dark object. She is like a head on a postage-stamp. And +there is that nice little old lady in black, Mrs. Hudson. +What a dear little woman for a mother! Comme elle est proprette! +And the other, the fiancee, of course she 's here. Ah, I see!" +She paused; she was looking intently at Miss Garland. +Rowland measured the intentness of her glance, and suddenly +acquired a firm conviction. "I should like so much to know her!" +she said, turning to Madame Grandoni. "She has a charming face; +I am sure she 's an angel. I wish very much you would introduce me. +No, on second thoughts, I had rather you did n't. I will speak +to her bravely myself, as a friend of her cousin." Madame Grandoni +and Rowland exchanged glances of baffled conjecture, and Christina +flung off her burnous, crumpled it together, and, with uplifted +finger,tossing it into a corner, gave it in charge to her poodle. +He stationed himself upon it, on his haunches, with upright vigilance. +Christina crossed the room with the step and smile of a +ministering angel, and introduced herself to Mary Garland. +She had once told Rowland that she would show him, some day, +how gracious her manners could be; she was now redeeming her promise. +Rowland, watching her, saw Mary Garland rise slowly, in response +to her greeting, and look at her with serious deep-gazing eyes. +The almost dramatic opposition of these two keenly interesting girls +touched Rowland with a nameless apprehension, and after a moment +he preferred to turn away. In doing so he noticed Roderick. +The young sculptor was standing planted on the train of a lady's dress, +gazing across at Christina's movements with undisguised earnestness. +There were several more pieces of music; Rowland sat in a corner +and listened to them. When they were over, several people began +to take their leave, Mrs. Hudson among the number. Rowland saw her +come up to Madame Grandoni, clinging shyly to Mary Garland's arm. +Miss Garland had a brilliant eye and a deep color in her cheek. +The two ladies looked about for Roderick, but Roderick had his +back turned. He had approached Christina, who, with an absent air, +was sitting alone, where she had taken her place near Miss Garland, +looking at the guests pass out of the room. Christina's eye, +like Miss Garland's, was bright, but her cheek was pale. +Hearing Roderick's voice, she looked up at him sharply; +then silently, with a single quick gesture, motioned him away. +He obeyed her, and came and joined his mother in bidding good night +to Madame Grandoni. Christina, in a moment, met Rowland's glance, +and immediately beckoned him to come to her. He was familiar +with her spontaneity of movement, and was scarcely surprised. +She made a place for him on the sofa beside her; he wondered +what was coming now. He was not sure it was not a mere fancy, +but it seemed to him that he had never seen her look just as she +was looking then. It was a humble, touching, appealing look, +and it threw into wonderful relief the nobleness of her beauty. +"How many more metamorphoses," he asked himself, "am I to be +treated to before we have done?" + +"I want to tell you," said Christina. "I have taken an immense +fancy to Miss Garland. Are n't you glad?" + +"Delighted!" exclaimed poor Rowland. + +"Ah, you don't believe it," she said with soft dignity. + +"Is it so hard to believe?" + +"Not that people in general should admire her, but that I should. But I want +to tell you; I want to tell some one, and I can't tell Miss Garland herself. +She thinks me already a horrid false creature, and if I were to express +to her frankly what I think of her, I should simply disgust her. +She would be quite right; she has repose, and from that point of view I +and my doings must seem monstrous. Unfortunately, I have n't repose. +I am trembling now; if I could ask you to feel my arm, you would see! +But I want to tell you that I admire Miss Garland more than any of the people +who call themselves her friends--except of course you. Oh, I know that! +To begin with, she is extremely handsome, and she does n't know it." + +"She is not generally thought handsome," said Rowland. + +"Evidently! That 's the vulgarity of the human mind. +Her head has great character, great natural style. +If a woman is not to be a supreme beauty in the regular way, +she will choose, if she 's wise, to look like that. +She 'll not be thought pretty by people in general, and desecrated, +as she passes, by the stare of every vile wretch who chooses +to thrust his nose under her bonnet; but a certain number +of superior people will find it one of the delightful things +of life to look at her. That lot is as good as another! +Then she has a beautiful character!" + +"You found that out soon!" said Rowland, smiling. + +"How long did it take you? I found it out before I ever spoke to her. +I met her the other day in Saint Peter's; I knew it then. I knew it-- +do you want to know how long I have known it?" + +"Really," said Rowland, "I did n't mean to cross-examine you." + +"Do you remember mamma's ball in December? +We had some talk and you then mentioned her--not by name. +You said but three words, but I saw you admired her, and I knew +that if you admired her she must have a beautiful character. +That 's what you require!" + +"Upon my word," cried Rowland, "you make three words go very far!" + +"Oh, Mr. Hudson has also spoken of her." + +"Ah, that 's better!" said Rowland. + +"I don't know; he does n't like her." + +"Did he tell you so?" The question left Rowland's lips before he could +stay it, which he would have done on a moment's reflection. + +Christina looked at him intently. "No!" she said at last. +"That would have been dishonorable, would n't it? But I know it +from my knowledge of him. He does n't like perfection; he is not bent +upon being safe, in his likings; he 's willing to risk something! +Poor fellow, he risks too much!" + +Rowland was silent; he did not care for the thrust; +but he was profoundly mystified. Christina beckoned +to her poodle, and the dog marched stiffly across to her. +She gave a loving twist to his rose-colored top-knot, and bade +him go and fetch her burnous. He obeyed, gathered it up +in his teeth, and returned with great solemnity, dragging it +along the floor. + +"I do her justice. I do her full justice," she went on, +with soft earnestness. "I like to say that, I like to be able +to say it. She 's full of intelligence and courage and devotion. +She does n't do me a grain of justice; but that is no harm. +There is something so fine in the aversions of a good woman!" + +"If you would give Miss Garland a chance," said Rowland, +"I am sure she would be glad to be your friend." + +"What do you mean by a chance? She has only to take it. +I told her I liked her immensely, and she frowned as if I had said +something disgusting. She looks very handsome when she frowns." +Christina rose, with these words, and began to gather her +mantle about her. "I don't often like women," she went on. +"In fact I generally detest them. But I should like to know +Miss Garland well. I should like to have a friendship with her; +I have never had one; they must be very delightful. +But I shan't have one now, either--not if she can help it! +Ask her what she thinks of me; see what she will say. +I don't want to know; keep it to yourself. It 's too sad. So we go +through life. It 's fatality--that 's what they call it, is n't it? +We please the people we don't care for, we displease those we do! +But I appreciate her, I do her justice; that 's the more important thing. +It 's because I have imagination. She has none. Never mind; +it 's her only fault. I do her justice; I understand very well." +She kept softly murmuring and looking about for Madame Grandoni. +She saw the good lady near the door, and put out her hand to +Rowland for good night. She held his hand an instant, fixing him +with her eyes, the living splendor of which, at this moment, +was something transcendent. "Yes, I do her justice," she repeated. +"And you do her more; you would lay down your life for her." +With this she turned away, and before he could answer, she left him. +She went to Madame Grandoni, grasped her two hands, and held out +her forehead to be kissed. The next moment she was gone. + +"That was a happy accident!" said Madame Grandoni. "She never looked +so beautiful, and she made my little party brilliant." + +"Beautiful, verily!" Rowland answered. "But it was no accident." + +"What was it, then?" + +"It was a plan. She wished to see Miss Garland. +She knew she was to be here." + +"How so?" + +"By Roderick, evidently." + +"And why did she wish to see Miss Garland?" + +"Heaven knows! I give it up!" + +"Ah, the wicked girl!" murmured Madame Grandoni. + +"No," said Rowland; "don't say that now. She 's too beautiful." + +"Oh, you men! The best of you!" + +"Well, then," cried Rowland, "she 's too good!" + +The opportunity presenting itself the next day, he failed not, as you +may imagine, to ask Mary Garland what she thought of Miss Light. +It was a Saturday afternoon, the time at which the beautiful +marbles of the Villa Borghese are thrown open to the public. +Mary had told him that Roderick had promised to take +her to see them, with his mother, and he joined the party +in the splendid Casino. The warm weather had left so few +strangers in Rome that they had the place almost to themselves. +Mrs. Hudson had confessed to an invincible fear of treading, +even with the help of her son's arm, the polished marble floors, +and was sitting patiently on a stool, with folded hands, +looking shyly, here and there, at the undraped paganism around her. +Roderick had sauntered off alone, with an irritated brow, +which seemed to betray the conflict between the instinct +of observation and the perplexities of circumstance. +Miss Garland was wandering in another direction, and though she +was consulting her catalogue, Rowland fancied it was from habit; +she too was preoccupied. He joined her, and she presently +sat down on a divan, rather wearily, and closed her Murray. +Then he asked her abruptly how Christina had pleased her. + +She started the least bit at the question, and he felt that she +had been thinking of Christina. + +"I don't like her!" she said with decision. + +"What do you think of her?" + +"I think she 's false." This was said without petulance or bitterness, +but with a very positive air. + +"But she wished to please you; she tried," Rowland rejoined, +in a moment. + +"I think not. She wished to please herself!" + +Rowland felt himself at liberty to say no more. +No allusion to Christina had passed between them since the day +they met her at Saint Peter's, but he knew that she knew, +by that infallible sixth sense of a woman who loves, +that this strange, beautiful girl had the power to injure her. +To what extent she had the will, Mary was uncertain; +but last night's interview, apparently, had not reassured her. +It was, under these circumstances, equally unbecoming +for Rowland either to depreciate or to defend Christina, +and he had to content himself with simply having verified +the girl's own assurance that she had made a bad impression. +He tried to talk of indifferent matters--about the statues +and the frescoes; but to-day, plainly, aesthetic curiosity, +with Miss Garland, had folded its wings. Curiosity of another sort +had taken its place. Mary was longing, he was sure, to question +him about Christina; but she found a dozen reasons for hesitating. +Her questions would imply that Roderick had not treated her +with confidence, for information on this point should properly +have come from him. They would imply that she was jealous, +and to betray her jealousy was intolerable to her pride. +For some minutes, as she sat scratching the brilliant pavement +with the point of her umbrella, it was to be supposed +that her pride and her anxiety held an earnest debate. +At last anxiety won. + +"A propos of Miss Light," she asked, "do you know her well?" + +"I can hardly say that. But I have seen her repeatedly." + +"Do you like her?" + +"Yes and no. I think I am sorry for her." + +Mary had spoken with her eyes on the pavement. At this she looked up. +"Sorry for her? Why?" + +"Well--she is unhappy." + +"What are her misfortunes?" + +"Well--she has a horrible mother, and she has had a most injurious education." + +For a moment Miss Garland was silent. Then, "Is n't she +very beautiful?" she asked. + +"Don't you think so?" + +"That 's measured by what men think! She is extremely clever, too." + +"Oh, incontestably." + +"She has beautiful dresses." + +"Yes, any number of them." + +"And beautiful manners." + +"Yes--sometimes." + +"And plenty of money." + +"Money enough, apparently." + +"And she receives great admiration." + +"Very true." + +"And she is to marry a prince." + +"So they say." + +Miss Garland rose and turned to rejoin her companions, +commenting these admissions with a pregnant silence. +"Poor Miss Light!" she said at last, simply. And in this it +seemed to Rowland there was a touch of bitterness. + +Very late on the following evening his servant brought him +the card of a visitor. He was surprised at a visit at such +an hour, but it may be said that when he read the inscription-- +Cavaliere Giuseppe Giacosa--his surprise declined. +He had had an unformulated conviction that there was to be +a sequel to the apparition at Madame Grandoni's; the Cavaliere +had come to usher it in. + +He had come, evidently, on a portentous errand. He was as pale +as ashes and prodigiously serious; his little cold black eye +had grown ardent, and he had left his caressing smile at home. +He saluted Rowland, however, with his usual obsequious bow. + +"You have more than once done me the honor to invite me to call upon you," +he said. "I am ashamed of my long delay, and I can only say +to you, frankly, that my time this winter has not been my own." +Rowland assented, ungrudgingly fumbled for the Italian correlative +of the adage "Better late than never," begged him to be seated, +and offered him a cigar. The Cavaliere sniffed imperceptibly +the fragrant weed, and then declared that, if his kind host would +allow him, he would reserve it for consumption at another time. +He apparently desired to intimate that the solemnity of his errand +left him no breath for idle smoke-puffings. Rowland stayed himself, +just in time, from an enthusiastic offer of a dozen more cigars, +and, as he watched the Cavaliere stow his treasure tenderly away +in his pocket-book, reflected that only an Italian could go through +such a performance with uncompromised dignity. "I must confess," +the little old man resumed, "that even now I come on business +not of my own--or my own, at least, only in a secondary sense. +I have been dispatched as an ambassador, an envoy extraordinary, +I may say, by my dear friend Mrs. Light." + +"If I can in any way be of service to Mrs. Light, I shall +be happy," Rowland said. + +"Well then, dear sir, Casa Light is in commotion. +The signora is in trouble--in terrible trouble." +For a moment Rowland expected to hear that the signora's trouble +was of a nature that a loan of five thousand francs would assuage. +But the Cavaliere continued: "Miss Light has committed a great crime; +she has plunged a dagger into the heart of her mother." + +"A dagger!" cried Rowland. + +The Cavaliere patted the air an instant with his finger-tips. +"I speak figuratively. She has broken off her marriage." + +"Broken it off?" + +"Short! She has turned the prince from the door." +And the Cavaliere, when he had made this announcement, folded his +arms and bent upon Rowland his intense, inscrutable gaze. +It seemed to Rowland that he detected in the polished depths +of it a sort of fantastic gleam of irony or of triumph; +but superficially, at least, Giacosa did nothing to discredit +his character as a presumably sympathetic representative +of Mrs. Light's affliction. + +Rowland heard his news with a kind of fierce disgust; it seemed +the sinister counterpart of Christina's preternatural mildness at +Madame Grandoni's tea-party. She had been too plausible to be honest. +Without being able to trace the connection, he yet instinctively +associated her present rebellion with her meeting with Mary Garland. +If she had not seen Mary, she would have let things stand. +It was monstrous to suppose that she could have sacrificed so +brilliant a fortune to a mere movement of jealousy, to a refined +instinct of feminine deviltry, to a desire to frighten poor Mary +from her security by again appearing in the field. Yet Rowland +remembered his first impression of her; she was "dangerous," and she +had measured in each direction the perturbing effect of her rupture. +She was smiling her sweetest smile at it! For half an hour Rowland +simply detested her, and longed to denounce her to her face. +Of course all he could say to Giacosa was that he was extremely sorry. +"But I am not surprised," he added. + +"You are not surprised?" + +"With Miss Light everything is possible. Is n't that true?" + +Another ripple seemed to play for an instant in the current +of the old man's irony, but he waived response. +"It was a magnificent marriage," he said, solemnly. "I do +not respect many people, but I respect Prince Casamassima." + +"I should judge him indeed to be a very honorable young man," said Rowland. + +"Eh, young as he is, he 's made of the old stuff. And now, perhaps he 's +blowing his brains out. He is the last of his house; it 's a great house. +But Miss Light will have put an end to it!" + +"Is that the view she takes of it?" Rowland ventured to ask. + +This time, unmistakably, the Cavaliere smiled, but still in +that very out-of-the-way place. "You have observed Miss Light +with attention," he said, "and this brings me to my errand. +Mrs. Light has a high opinion of your wisdom, of your kindness, +and she has reason to believe you have influence with her daughter." + +"I--with her daughter? Not a grain!" + +"That is possibly your modesty. Mrs. Light believes that something +may yet be done, and that Christina will listen to you. +She begs you to come and see her before it is too late." + +"But all this, my dear Cavaliere, is none of my business," +Rowland objected. "I can't possibly, in such a matter, +take the responsibility of advising Miss Light." + +The Cavaliere fixed his eyes for a moment on the floor, in brief +but intense reflection. Then looking up, "Unfortunately," he said, +"she has no man near her whom she respects; she has no father!" + +"And a fatally foolish mother!" Rowland gave himself +the satisfaction of exclaiming. + +The Cavaliere was so pale that he could not easily have turned paler; +yet it seemed for a moment that his dead complexion blanched. +"Eh, signore, such as she is, the mother appeals to you. +A very handsome woman--disheveled, in tears, in despair, in dishabille!" + +Rowland reflected a moment, not on the attractions of Mrs. Light +under the circumstances thus indicated by the Cavaliere, +but on the satisfaction he would take in accusing Christina +to her face of having struck a cruel blow. + +"I must add," said the Cavaliere, "that Mrs. Light desires also to speak +to you on the subject of Mr. Hudson." + +"She considers Mr. Hudson, then, connected with this step of her daughter's?" + +"Intimately. He must be got out of Rome." + +"Mrs. Light, then, must get an order from the Pope to remove him. +It 's not in my power." + +The Cavaliere assented, deferentially. "Mrs. Light is equally helpless. +She would leave Rome to-morrow, but Christina will not budge. +An order from the Pope would do nothing. A bull in council +would do nothing." + +"She 's a remarkable young lady," said Rowland, with bitterness. + +But the Cavaliere rose and responded coldly, "She has a great spirit." +And it seemed to Rowland that her great spirit, for mysterious reasons, +gave him more pleasure than the distressing use she made of it gave +him pain. He was on the point of charging him with his inconsistency, +when Giacosa resumed: "But if the marriage can be saved, it must be saved. +It 's a beautiful marriage. It will be saved." + +"Notwithstanding Miss Light's great spirit to the contrary?" + +"Miss Light, notwithstanding her great spirit, will call +Prince Casamassima back." + +"Heaven grant it!" said Rowland. + +"I don't know," said the Cavaliere, solemnly, "that heaven will have much +to do with it." + +Rowland gave him a questioning look, but he laid his finger on his lips. +And with Rowland's promise to present himself on the morrow at Casa Light, +he shortly afterwards departed. He left Rowland revolving many things: +Christina's magnanimity, Christina's perversity, Roderick's contingent +fortune, Mary Garland's certain trouble, and the Cavaliere's +own fine ambiguities. + +Rowland's promise to the Cavaliere obliged him to withdraw from an +excursion which he had arranged with the two ladies from Northampton. +Before going to Casa Light he repaired in person to Mrs. Hudson's hotel, +to make his excuses. + +He found Roderick's mother sitting with tearful eyes, staring at +an open note that lay in her lap. At the window sat Miss Garland, +who turned her intense regard upon him as he came in. +Mrs. Hudson quickly rose and came to him, holding out the note. + +"In pity's name," she cried, "what is the matter with my boy? +If he is ill, I entreat you to take me to him!" + +"He is not ill, to my knowledge," said Rowland. +"What have you there?" + +"A note--a dreadful note. He tells us we are not to see him for a week. +If I could only go to his room! But I am afraid, I am afraid!" + +"I imagine there is no need of going to his room. +What is the occasion, may I ask, of his note?" + +"He was to have gone with us on this drive to--what is the place?-- +to Cervara. You know it was arranged yesterday morning. +In the evening he was to have dined with us. But he never came, +and this morning arrives this awful thing. Oh dear, I 'm so excited! +Would you mind reading it?" + +Rowland took the note and glanced at its half-dozen lines. +"I cannot go to Cervara," they ran; "I have something else to do. +This will occupy me perhaps for a week, and you 'll not see me. +Don't miss me--learn not to miss me. R. H." + +"Why, it means," Rowland commented, "that he has taken up a piece +of work, and that it is all-absorbing. That 's very good news." +This explanation was not sincere; but he had not the courage +not to offer it as a stop-gap. But he found he needed all his +courage to maintain it, for Miss Garland had left her place +and approached him, formidably unsatisfied. + +"He does not work in the evening," said Mrs. Hudson. "Can't he come +for five minutes? Why does he write such a cruel, cold note to his +poor mother--to poor Mary? What have we done that he acts so strangely? +It 's this wicked, infectious, heathenish place!" And the poor lady's +suppressed mistrust of the Eternal City broke out passionately. +"Oh, dear Mr. Mallet," she went on, "I am sure he has the fever +and he 's already delirious!" + +"I am very sure it 's not that," said Miss Garland, with a certain dryness. + +She was still looking at Rowland; his eyes met hers, and his own glance fell. +This made him angry, and to carry off his confusion he pretended to be looking +at the floor, in meditation. After all, what had he to be ashamed of? +For a moment he was on the point of making a clean breast of it, +of crying out, "Dearest friends, I abdicate: I can't help you!" +But he checked himself; he felt so impatient to have his three words +with Christina. He grasped his hat. + +"I will see what it is!" he cried. And then he was glad he had +not abdicated, for as he turned away he glanced again at Mary and saw that, +though her eyes were full of trouble, they were not hard and accusing, +but charged with appealing friendship. + +He went straight to Roderick's apartment, deeming this, at an +early hour, the safest place to seek him. He found him in his +sitting-room, which had been closely darkened to keep out the heat. +The carpets and rugs had been removed, the floor of speckled +concrete was bare and lightly sprinkled with water. Here and there, +over it, certain strongly perfumed flowers had been scattered. +Roderick was lying on his divan in a white dressing-gown, staring up +at the frescoed ceiling. The room was deliciously cool, and filled +with the moist, sweet odor of the circumjacent roses and violets. +All this seemed highly fantastic, and yet Rowland hardly felt surprised. + +"Your mother was greatly alarmed at your note," he said, "and I +came to satisfy myself that, as I believed, you are not ill." +Roderick lay motionless, except that he slightly turned +his head toward his friend. He was smelling a large +white rose, and he continued to present it to his nose. +In the darkness of the room he looked exceedingly pale, +but his handsome eyes had an extraordinary brilliancy. +He let them rest for some time on Rowland, lying there like a +Buddhist in an intellectual swoon, whose perception should be +slowly ebbing back to temporal matters. "Oh, I 'm not ill," +he said at last. "I have never been better." + +"Your note, nevertheless, and your absence," Rowland said, +"have very naturally alarmed your mother. I advise you to go +to her directly and reassure her." + +"Go to her? Going to her would be worse than staying away. +Staying away at present is a kindness." And he inhaled +deeply his huge rose, looking up over it at Rowland. +"My presence, in fact, would be indecent." + +"Indecent? Pray explain." + +"Why, you see, as regards Mary Garland. I am divinely happy! +Does n't it strike you? You ought to agree with me. +You wish me to spare her feelings; I spare them by staying away. +Last night I heard something"-- + +"I heard it, too," said Rowland with brevity. "And it 's in honor of this +piece of news that you have taken to your bed in this fashion?" + +"Extremes meet! I can't get up for joy." + +"May I inquire how you heard your joyous news?--from Miss Light herself?" + +"By no means. It was brought me by her maid, who is in my service as well." + +"Casamassima's loss, then, is to a certainty your gain?" + +"I don't talk about certainties. I don't want to +be arrogant, I don't want to offend the immortal gods. +I 'm keeping very quiet, but I can't help being happy. +I shall wait a while; I shall bide my time." + +"And then?" + +"And then that transcendent girl will confess to me that when she +threw overboard her prince she remembered that I adored her!" + +"I feel bound to tell you," was in the course of a moment Rowland's +response to this speech, "that I am now on my way to Mrs. Light's." + +"I congratulate you, I envy you!" Roderick murmured, imperturbably. + +"Mrs. Light has sent for me to remonstrate with her daughter, +with whom she has taken it into her head that I have influence. +I don't know to what extent I shall remonstrate, but I give you +notice I shall not speak in your interest." + +Roderick looked at him a moment with a lazy radiance in his eyes. +"Pray don't!" he simply answered. + +"You deserve I should tell her you are a very shabby fellow." + +"My dear Rowland, the comfort with you is that I can trust you. +You 're incapable of doing anything disloyal." + +"You mean to lie here, then, smelling your roses and nursing your visions, +and leaving your mother and Miss Garland to fall ill with anxiety?" + +"Can I go and flaunt my felicity in their faces? +Wait till I get used to it a trifle. I have done them +a palpable wrong, but I can at least forbear to add insult +to injury. I may be an arrant fool, but, for the moment, +I have taken it into my head to be prodigiously pleased. +I should n't be able to conceal it; my pleasure would offend them; +so I lock myself up as a dangerous character." + +"Well, I can only say, 'May your pleasure never grow less, +or your danger greater!' " + +Roderick closed his eyes again, and sniffed at his rose. +"God's will be done!" + +On this Rowland left him and repaired directly to Mrs. Light's. +This afflicted lady hurried forward to meet him. +Since the Cavaliere's report of her condition she had somewhat +smoothed and trimmed the exuberance of her distress, but she +was evidently in extreme tribulation, and she clutched Rowland +by his two hands, as if, in the shipwreck of her hopes, +he were her single floating spar. Rowland greatly pitied her, +for there is something respectable in passionate grief, +even in a very bad cause; and as pity is akin to love, +he endured her rather better than he had done hitherto. + +"Speak to her, plead with her, command her!" she cried, +pressing and shaking his hands. "She 'll not heed us, +no more than if we were a pair of clocks a-ticking. Perhaps +she will listen to you; she always liked you." + +"She always disliked me," said Rowland. "But that does n't matter now. +I have come here simply because you sent for me, not because I can help you. +I cannot advise your daughter." + +"Oh, cruel, deadly man! You must advise her; you shan't leave this +house till you have advised her!" the poor woman passionately retorted. +"Look at me in my misery and refuse to help me! Oh, you need n't +be afraid, I know I 'm a fright, I have n't an idea what I have on. +If this goes on, we may both as well turn scarecrows. +If ever a woman was desperate, frantic, heart-broken, I am that woman. +I can't begin to tell you. To have nourished a serpent, sir, all these +years! to have lavished one's self upon a viper that turns and stings +her own poor mother! To have toiled and prayed, to have pushed +and struggled, to have eaten the bread of bitterness, and all the rest +of it, sir--and at the end of all things to find myself at this pass. +It can't be, it 's too cruel, such things don't happen, the Lord +don't allow it. I 'm a religious woman, sir, and the Lord knows +all about me. With his own hand he had given me his reward! +I would have lain down in the dust and let her walk over me; +I would have given her the eyes out of my head, if she had taken a fancy +to them. No, she 's a cruel, wicked, heartless, unnatural girl! +I speak to you, Mr. Mallet, in my dire distress, as to my only friend. +There is n't a creature here that I can look to--not one of them all +that I have faith in. But I always admired you. I said to Christina +the first time I saw you that there at last was a real gentleman. +Come, don't disappoint me now! I feel so terribly alone, you see; +I feel what a nasty, hard, heartless world it is that has come +and devoured my dinners and danced to my fiddles, and yet that has +n't a word to throw to me in my agony! Oh, the money, alone, that I +have put into this thing, would melt the heart of a Turk!" + +During this frenzied outbreak Rowland had had time to look round the room, +and to see the Cavaliere sitting in a corner, like a major-domo on the divan +of an antechamber, pale, rigid, and inscrutable. + +"I have it at heart to tell you," Rowland said, "that if you +consider my friend Hudson"-- + +Mrs. Light gave a toss of her head and hands. "Oh, it 's not that. +She told me last night to bother her no longer with Hudson, Hudson! +She did n't care a button for Hudson. I almost wish she did; +then perhaps one might understand it. But she does n't care for +anything in the wide world, except to do her own hard, wicked will, +and to crush me and shame me with her cruelty." + +"Ah, then," said Rowland, "I am as much at sea as you, +and my presence here is an impertinence. I should like to say +three words to Miss Light on my own account. But I must absolutely +and inexorably decline to urge the cause of Prince Casamassima. +This is simply impossible." + +Mrs. Light burst into angry tears. "Because the poor boy is a prince, +eh? because he 's of a great family, and has an income of millions, eh? +That 's why you grudge him and hate him. I knew there were vulgar people +of that way of feeling, but I did n't expect it of you. Make an effort, +Mr. Mallet; rise to the occasion; forgive the poor fellow his splendor. +Be just, be reasonable! It 's not his fault, and it 's not mine. +He 's the best, the kindest young man in the world, and the most +correct and moral and virtuous! If he were standing here in rags, +I would say it all the same. The man first--the money afterwards: +that was always my motto, and always will be. What do you take me for? +Do you suppose I would give Christina to a vicious person? do you +suppose I would sacrifice my precious child, little comfort as I have +in her, to a man against whose character one word could be breathed? +Casamassima is only too good, he 's a saint of saints, he 's stupidly good! +There is n't such another in the length and breadth of Europe. +What he has been through in this house, not a common peasant would endure. +Christina has treated him as you would n't treat a dog. +He has been insulted, outraged, persecuted! He has been driven hither +and thither till he did n't know where he was. He has stood there +where you stand--there, with his name and his millions and his devotion-- +as white as your handkerchief, with hot tears in his eyes, and me ready +to go down on my knees to him and say, 'My own sweet prince, I could +kiss the ground you tread on, but it is n't decent that I should allow +you to enter my house and expose yourself to these horrors again.' +And he would come back, and he would come back, and go through it all again, +and take all that was given him, and only want the girl the more! +I was his confidant; I know everything. He used to beg my forgiveness +for Christina. What do you say to that? I seized him once and kissed him, +I did! To find that and to find all the rest with it, and to believe it +was a gift straight from the pitying angels of heaven, and then to see +it dashed away before your eyes and to stand here helpless--oh, it 's +a fate I hope you may ever be spared!" + +"It would seem, then, that in the interest of Prince Casamassima +himself I ought to refuse to interfere," said Rowland. + +Mrs. Light looked at him hard, slowly drying her eyes. +The intensity of her grief and anger gave her a kind of majesty, +and Rowland, for the moment, felt ashamed of the ironical +ring of his observation. "Very good, sir," she said. +"I 'm sorry your heart is not so tender as your conscience. +My compliments to your conscience! It must give you great happiness. +Heaven help me! Since you fail us, we are indeed driven to the wall. +But I have fought my own battles before, and I have never +lost courage, and I don't see why I should break down now. +Cavaliere, come here!" + +Giacosa rose at her summons and advanced with his usual deferential alacrity. +He shook hands with Rowland in silence. + +"Mr. Mallet refuses to say a word," Mrs. Light went on. +"Time presses, every moment is precious. Heaven knows what +that poor boy may be doing. If at this moment a clever woman +should get hold of him she might be as ugly as she pleased! +It 's horrible to think of it." + +The Cavaliere fixed his eyes on Rowland, and his look, which the +night before had been singular, was now most extraordinary. +There was a nameless force of anguish in it which seemed to +grapple with the young man's reluctance, to plead, to entreat, +and at the same time to be glazed over with a reflection +of strange things. + +Suddenly, though most vaguely, Rowland felt the presence +of a new element in the drama that was going on before him. +He looked from the Cavaliere to Mrs. Light, whose eyes were +now quite dry, and were fixed in stony hardness on the floor. + +"If you could bring yourself," the Cavaliere said, in a low, soft, +caressing voice, "to address a few words of solemn remonstrance +to Miss Light, you would, perhaps, do more for us than you know. +You would save several persons a great pain. The dear signora, +first, and then Christina herself. Christina in particular. +Me too, I might take the liberty to add!" + +There was, to Rowland, something acutely touching in this humble petition. +He had always felt a sort of imaginative tenderness for poor little +unexplained Giacosa, and these words seemed a supreme contortion of +the mysterious obliquity of his life. All of a sudden, as he watched +the Cavaliere, something occurred to him; it was something very odd, +and it stayed his glance suddenly from again turning to Mrs. Light. +His idea embarrassed him, and to carry off his embarrassment, +he repeated that it was folly to suppose that his words would have +any weight with Christina. + +The Cavaliere stepped forward and laid two fingers on Rowland's breast. +"Do you wish to know the truth? You are the only man whose +words she remembers." + +Rowland was going from surprise to surprise. "I will say what I can!" +he said. By this time he had ventured to glance at Mrs. Light. +She was looking at him askance, as if, upon this, she was suddenly +mistrusting his motives. + +"If you fail," she said sharply, "we have something else! +But please to lose no time." + +She had hardly spoken when the sound of a short, sharp growl +caused the company to turn. Christina's fleecy poodle stood +in the middle of the vast saloon, with his muzzle lowered, +in pompous defiance of the three conspirators against the comfort +of his mistress. This young lady's claims for him seemed justified; +he was an animal of amazingly delicate instincts. +He had preceded Christina as a sort of van-guard of defense, +and she now slowly advanced from a neighboring room. + +"You will be so good as to listen to Mr. Mallet," her mother said, +in a terrible voice, "and to reflect carefully upon what he says. +I suppose you will admit that he is disinterested. +In half an hour you shall hear from me again!" And passing +her hand through the Cavaliere's arm, she swept rapidly out +of the room. + +Christina looked hard at Rowland, but offered him no greeting. +She was very pale, and, strangely enough, it at first seemed +to Rowland that her beauty was in eclipse. But he very soon +perceived that it had only changed its character, and that if it +was a trifle less brilliant than usual, it was admirably touching +and noble. The clouded light of her eyes, the magnificent +gravity of her features, the conscious erectness of her head, +might have belonged to a deposed sovereign or a condemned martyr. +"Why have you come here at this time?" she asked. + +"Your mother sent for me in pressing terms, and I was very glad +to have an opportunity to speak to you." + +"Have you come to help me, or to persecute me?" + +"I have as little power to do one as I have desire to do +the other. I came in great part to ask you a question. +First, your decision is irrevocable?" + +Christina's two hands had been hanging clasped in front of her; +she separated them and flung them apart by an admirable gesture. + +"Would you have done this if you had not seen Miss Garland?" + +She looked at him with quickened attention; then suddenly, +"This is interesting!" she cried. "Let us have it out." +And she flung herself into a chair and pointed to another. + +"You don't answer my question," Rowland said. + +"You have no right, that I know of, to ask it. But it 's +a very clever one; so clever that it deserves an answer. +Very likely I would not." + +"Last night, when I said that to myself, I was extremely angry," +Rowland rejoined. + +"Oh, dear, and you are not angry now?" + +"I am less angry." + +"How very stupid! But you can say something at least." + +"If I were to say what is uppermost in my mind, I would say that, +face to face with you, it is never possible to condemn you." + +"Perche?" + +"You know, yourself! But I can at least say now what I felt last night. +It seemed to me that you had consciously, cruelly dealt a blow at that +poor girl. Do you understand?" + +"Wait a moment!" And with her eyes fixed on him, she inclined +her head on one side, meditatively. Then a cold, brilliant smile +covered her face, and she made a gesture of negation. +"I see your train of reasoning, but it 's quite wrong. +I meant no harm to Miss Garland; I should be extremely sorry +to make her suffer. Tell me you believe that." + +This was said with ineffable candor. Rowland heard himself answering, +"I believe it!" + +"And yet, in a sense, your supposition was true," +Christina continued. "I conceived, as I told you, a great +admiration for Miss Garland, and I frankly confess I was +jealous of her. What I envied her was simply her character! +I said to myself, 'She, in my place, would n't marry Casamassima.' +I could not help saying it, and I said it so often that I +found a kind of inspiration in it. I hated the idea of being +worse than she--of doing something that she would n't do. +I might be bad by nature, but I need n't be by volition. +The end of it all was that I found it impossible not to tell +the prince that I was his very humble servant, but that I +could not marry him." + +"Are you sure it was only of Miss Garland's character that you were jealous, +not of--not of"-- + +"Speak out, I beg you. We are talking philosophy!" + +"Not of her affection for her cousin?" + +"Sure is a good deal to ask. Still, I think I may say it! +There are two reasons; one, at least, I can tell you: +her affection has not a shadow's weight with Mr. Hudson! +Why then should one fear it?" + +"And what is the other reason?" + +"Excuse me; that is my own affair." + +Rowland was puzzled, baffled, charmed, inspired, almost, all at once. +"I have promised your mother," he presently resumed, "to say something +in favor of Prince Casamassima." + +She shook her head sadly. "Prince Casamassima needs nothing +that you can say for him. He is a magnificent parti. +I know it perfectly." + +"You know also of the extreme affliction of your mother?" + +"Her affliction is demonstrative. She has been abusing me for +the last twenty-four hours as if I were the vilest of the vile." +To see Christina sit there in the purity of her beauty and say this, +might have made one bow one's head with a kind of awe. "I have failed +of respect to her at other times, but I have not done so now. +Since we are talking philosophy," she pursued with a gentle smile, +"I may say it 's a simple matter! I don't love him. +Or rather, perhaps, since we are talking philosophy, I may say +it 's not a simple matter. I spoke just now of inspiration. +The inspiration has been great, but--I frankly confess it-- +the choice has been hard. Shall I tell you?" she demanded, +with sudden ardor; "will you understand me? It was on the one side +the world, the splendid, beautiful, powerful, interesting world. +I know what that is; I have tasted of the cup, I know its sweetness. +Ah, if I chose, if I let myself go, if I flung everything +to the winds, the world and I would be famous friends! +I know its merits, and I think, without vanity, it would see mine. +You would see some fine things! I should like to be a princess, +and I think I should be a very good one; I would play my part well. +I am fond of luxury, I am fond of a great society, I am fond +of being looked at. I am corrupt, corruptible, corruption! +Ah, what a pity that could n't be, too! Mercy of Heaven!" +There was a passionate tremor in her voice; she covered her face +with her hands and sat motionless. Rowland saw that an intense +agitation, hitherto successfully repressed, underlay her calmness, +and he could easily believe that her battle had been fierce. +She rose quickly and turned away, walked a few paces, and stopped. +In a moment she was facing him again, with tears in her eyes +and a flush in her cheeks. "But you need n't think I 'm afraid!" +she said. "I have chosen, and I shall hold to it. +I have something here, here, here!" and she patted her heart. +"It 's my own. I shan't part with it. Is it what you call +an ideal? I don't know; I don't care! It is brighter than +the Casamassima diamonds!" + +"You say that certain things are your own affair," Rowland presently rejoined; +"but I must nevertheless make an attempt to learn what all this means-- +what it promises for my friend Hudson. Is there any hope for him?" + +"This is a point I can't discuss with you minutely. +I like him very much." + +"Would you marry him if he were to ask you?" + +"He has asked me." + +"And if he asks again?" + +"I shall marry no one just now." + +"Roderick," said Rowland, "has great hopes." + +"Does he know of my rupture with the prince?" + +"He is making a great holiday of it." + +Christina pulled her poodle towards her and began to smooth his silky fleece. +"I like him very much," she repeated; "much more than I used to. +Since you told me all that about him at Saint Cecilia's, I have felt +a great friendship for him. There 's something very fine about him; +he 's not afraid of anything. He is not afraid of failure; he is not +afraid of ruin or death." + +"Poor fellow!" said Rowland, bitterly; "he is fatally picturesque." + +"Picturesque, yes; that 's what he is. I am very sorry for him." + +"Your mother told me just now that you had said that you did +n't care a straw for him." + +"Very likely! I meant as a lover. One does n't want a lover one pities, +and one does n't want--of all things in the world--a picturesque husband! +I should like Mr. Hudson as something else. I wish he were my brother, +so that he could never talk to me of marriage. Then I could adore him. +I would nurse him, I would wait on him and save him all disagreeable rubs +and shocks. I am much stronger than he, and I would stand between him +and the world. Indeed, with Mr. Hudson for my brother, I should be willing +to live and die an old maid!" + +"Have you ever told him all this?" + +"I suppose so; I 've told him five hundred things! +If it would please you, I will tell him again." + +"Oh, Heaven forbid!" cried poor Rowland, with a groan. + +He was lingering there, weighing his sympathy against his irritation, +and feeling it sink in the scale, when the curtain of a distant +doorway was lifted and Mrs. Light passed across the room. +She stopped half-way, and gave the young persons a flushed +and menacing look. It found apparently little to reassure her, +and she moved away with a passionate toss of her drapery. +Rowland thought with horror of the sinister compulsion to which +the young girl was to be subjected. In this ethereal flight +of hers there was a certain painful effort and tension of wing; +but it was none the less piteous to imagine her being rudely jerked +down to the base earth she was doing her adventurous utmost to spurn. +She would need all her magnanimity for her own trial, and it seemed +gross to make further demands upon it on Roderick's behalf. + +Rowland took up his hat. "You asked a while ago if I had come to help you," +he said. "If I knew how I might help you, I should be particularly glad." + +She stood silent a moment, reflecting. Then at last, +looking up, "You remember," she said, "your promising me +six months ago to tell me what you finally thought of me? +I should like you to tell me now." + +He could hardly help smiling. Madame Grandoni had insisted +on the fact that Christina was an actress, though a sincere one; +and this little speech seemed a glimpse of the cloven foot. +She had played her great scene, she had made her point, and now she +had her eye at the hole in the curtain and she was watching the house! +But she blushed as she perceived his smile, and her blush, +which was beautiful, made her fault venial. + +"You are an excellent girl!" he said, in a particular tone, +and gave her his hand in farewell. + +There was a great chain of rooms in Mrs. Light's apartment, +the pride and joy of the hostess on festal evenings, through which +the departing visitor passed before reaching the door. +In one of the first of these Rowland found himself waylaid +and arrested by the distracted lady herself. + +"Well, well?" she cried, seizing his arm. "Has she listened to you-- +have you moved her?" + +"In Heaven's name, dear madame," Rowland begged, "leave the poor girl alone! +She is behaving very well!" + +"Behaving very well? Is that all you have to tell me? +I don't believe you said a proper word to her. +You are conspiring together to kill me!" + +Rowland tried to soothe her, to remonstrate, to persuade her +that it was equally cruel and unwise to try to force matters. +But she answered him only with harsh lamentations and imprecations, +and ended by telling him that her daughter was her property, not his, +and that his interference was most insolent and most scandalous. +Her disappointment seemed really to have crazed her, and his only +possible rejoinder was to take a summary departure. + +A moment later he came upon the Cavaliere, who was sitting +with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, so buried +in thought that Rowland had to call him before he roused himself. +Giacosa looked at him a moment keenly, and then gave a shake +of the head, interrogatively. + +Rowland gave a shake negative, to which the Cavaliere responded +by a long, melancholy sigh. "But her mother is determined +to force matters," said Rowland. + +"It seems that it must be!" + +"Do you consider that it must be?" + +"I don't differ with Mrs. Light!" + +"It will be a great cruelty!" + +The Cavaliere gave a tragic shrug. "Eh! it is n't an easy world." + +"You should do nothing to make it harder, then." + +"What will you have? It 's a magnificent marriage." + +"You disappoint me, Cavaliere," said Rowland, solemnly. "I imagined +you appreciated the great elevation of Miss Light's attitude. +She does n't love the prince; she has let the matter stand +or fall by that." + +The old man grasped him by the hand and stood a moment with averted eyes. +At last, looking at him, he held up two fingers. + +"I have two hearts," he said, "one for myself, one for the world. +This one opposes Miss Light, the other adores her! +One suffers horribly at what the other does." + +"I don't understand double people, Cavaliere," Rowland said, +"and I don't pretend to understand you. But I have guessed +that you are going to play some secret card." + +"The card is Mrs. Light's, not mine," said the Cavaliere. + +"It 's a menace, at any rate?" + +"The sword of Damocles! It hangs by a hair. Christina is to be +given ten minutes to recant, under penalty of having it fall. +On the blade there is something written in strange characters. +Don't scratch your head; you will not make it out." + +"I think I have guessed it," Rowland said, after a pregnant silence. +The Cavaliere looked at him blankly but intently, and Rowland added, +"Though there are some signs, indeed, I don't understand." + +"Puzzle them out at your leisure," said the Cavaliere, shaking his hand. +"I hear Mrs. Light; I must go to my post. I wish you were a Catholic; +I would beg you to step into the first church you come to, and pray for us +the next half-hour." + +"For 'us'? For whom?" + +"For all of us. At any rate remember this: I worship the Christina!" + +Rowland heard the rustle of Mrs. Light's dress; he turned away, +and the Cavaliere went, as he said, to his post. +Rowland for the next couple of days pondered his riddle. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. Mrs. Hudson + +Of Roderick, meanwhile, Rowland saw nothing; but he immediately went +to Mrs. Hudson and assured her that her son was in even exceptionally +good health and spirits. After this he called again on the two +ladies from Northampton, but, as Roderick's absence continued, +he was able neither to furnish nor to obtain much comfort. +Miss Garland's apprehensive face seemed to him an image +of his own state of mind. He was profoundly depressed; +he felt that there was a storm in the air, and he wished it +would come, without more delay, and perform its ravages. +On the afternoon of the third day he went into Saint Peter's, +his frequent resort whenever the outer world was disagreeable. +From a heart-ache to a Roman rain there were few importunate +pains the great church did not help him to forget. +He had wandered there for half an hour, when he came upon +a short figure, lurking in the shadow of one of the great piers. +He saw it was that of an artist, hastily transferring to his +sketch-book a memento of some fleeting variation in the scenery +of the basilica; and in a moment he perceived that the artist +was little Sam Singleton. + +Singleton pocketed his sketch-book with a guilty air, as if it cost his +modesty a pang to be detected in this greedy culture of opportunity. +Rowland always enjoyed meeting him; talking with him, in these days, +was as good as a wayside gush of clear, cold water, on a long, hot walk. +There was, perhaps, no drinking-vessel, and you had to apply your lips +to some simple natural conduit; but the result was always a sense +of extreme moral refreshment. On this occasion he mentally blessed +the ingenuous little artist, and heard presently with keen regret +that he was to leave Rome on the morrow. Singleton had come to bid +farewell to Saint Peter's, and he was gathering a few supreme memories. +He had earned a purse-full of money, and he was meaning to take +a summer's holiday; going to Switzerland, to Germany, to Paris. +In the autumn he was to return home; his family--composed, as Rowland knew, +of a father who was cashier in a bank and five unmarried sisters, +one of whom gave lyceum-lectures on woman's rights, the whole resident +at Buffalo, New York--had been writing him peremptory letters +and appealing to him as a son, brother, and fellow-citizen. He would +have been grateful for another year in Rome, but what must be must be, +and he had laid up treasure which, in Buffalo, would seem infinite. +They talked some time; Rowland hoped they might meet in Switzerland, +and take a walk or two together. Singleton seemed to feel that Buffalo +had marked him for her own; he was afraid he should not see Rome again +for many a year. + +"So you expect to live at Buffalo?" Rowland asked sympathetically. + +"Well, it will depend upon the views--upon the attitude--of my family," +Singleton replied. "Oh, I think I shall get on; I think it can be done. +If I find it can be done, I shall really be quite proud of it; as an artist +of course I mean, you know. Do you know I have some nine hundred sketches? +I shall live in my portfolio. And so long as one is not in Rome, +pray what does it matter where one is? But how I shall envy all you Romans-- +you and Mr. Gloriani, and Mr. Hudson, especially!" + +"Don't envy Hudson; he has nothing to envy." + +Singleton grinned at what he considered a harmless jest. +"Yes, he 's going to be the great man of our time! +And I say, Mr. Mallet, is n't it a mighty comfort that it 's +we who have turned him out?" + +"Between ourselves," said Rowland, "he has disappointed me." + +Singleton stared, open-mouthed. "Dear me, what did you expect?" + +"Truly," said Rowland to himself, "what did I expect?" + +"I confess," cried Singleton, "I can't judge him rationally. +He fascinates me; he 's the sort of man one makes one's hero of." + +"Strictly speaking, he is not a hero," said Rowland. + +Singleton looked intensely grave, and, with almost tearful eyes, +"Is there anything amiss--anything out of the way, about him?" +he timidly asked. Then, as Rowland hesitated to reply, +he quickly added, "Please, if there is, don't tell me! +I want to know no evil of him, and I think I should hardly believe it. +In my memories of this Roman artist-life, he will be the central figure. +He will stand there in radiant relief, as beautiful and unspotted +as one of his own statues!" + +"Amen!" said Rowland, gravely. He remembered afresh that the sea +is inhabited by big fishes and little, and that the latter often +find their way down the throats of the former. Singleton was going +to spend the afternoon in taking last looks at certain other places, +and Rowland offered to join him on his sentimental circuit. +But as they were preparing to leave the church, he heard himself +suddenly addressed from behind. Turning, he beheld a young +woman whom he immediately recognized as Madame Grandoni's maid. +Her mistress was present, she said, and begged to confer with him +before he departed. + +This summons obliged Rowland to separate from Singleton, to whom +he bade farewell. He followed the messenger, and presently +found Madame Grandoni occupying a liberal area on the steps +of the tribune, behind the great altar, where, spreading a shawl +on the polished red marble, she had comfortably seated herself. +He expected that she had something especial to impart, and she +lost no time in bringing forth her treasure. + +"Don't shout very loud," she said, "remember that we are in church; +there 's a limit to the noise one may make even in Saint Peter's. +Christina Light was married this morning to Prince Casamassima. " + +Rowland did not shout at all; he gave a deep, short murmur: +"Married--this morning?" + +"Married this morning, at seven o'clock, le plus tranquillement du monde, +before three or four persons. The young couple left Rome an hour afterwards." + +For some moments this seemed to him really terrible; the dark little +drama of which he had caught a glimpse had played itself out. +He had believed that Christina would resist; that she had +succumbed was a proof that the pressure had been cruel. +Rowland's imagination followed her forth with an irresistible +tremor into the world toward which she was rolling away, +with her detested husband and her stifled ideal; but it must +be confessed that if the first impulse of his compassion +was for Christina, the second was for Prince Casamassima. +Madame Grandoni acknowledged an extreme curiosity as to the secret +springs of these strange doings: Casamassima's sudden dismissal, +his still more sudden recall, the hurried private marriage. +"Listen," said Rowland, hereupon, "and I will tell you something." +And he related, in detail, his last visit to Mrs. Light and his +talk with this lady, with Christina, and with the Cavaliere. + +"Good," she said; "it 's all very curious. But it 's a riddle, +and I only half guess it." + +"Well," said Rowland, "I desire to harm no one; but certain +suppositions have taken shape in my mind which serve as a solvent +to several ambiguities." + +"It is very true," Madame Grandoni answered, "that the Cavaliere, +as he stands, has always needed to be explained." + +"He is explained by the hypothesis that, three-and-twenty years ago, +at Ancona, Mrs. Light had a lover." + +"I see. Ancona was dull, Mrs. Light was lively, and-- +three-and-twenty years ago--perhaps, the Cavaliere was fascinating. +Doubtless it would be fairer to say that he was fascinated. +Poor Giacosa!" + +"He has had his compensation," Rowland said. "He has been passionately +fond of Christina." + +"Naturally. But has Christina never wondered why?" + +"If she had been near guessing, her mother's shabby treatment +of him would have put her off the scent. Mrs. Light's conscience +has apparently told her that she could expiate an hour's too great +kindness by twenty years' contempt. So she kept her secret. +But what is the profit of having a secret unless you can make some use +of it? The day at last came when she could turn hers to account; +she could let the skeleton out of the closet and create a panic." + +"I don't understand." + +"Neither do I morally," said Rowland. "I only conceive that there +was a horrible, fabulous scene. The poor Cavaliere stood outside, +at the door, white as a corpse and as dumb. The mother and +daughter had it out together. Mrs. Light burnt her ships. +When she came out she had three lines of writing in her daughter's +hand, which the Cavaliere was dispatched with to the prince. +They overtook the young man in time, and, when he reappeared, +he was delighted to dispense with further waiting. +I don't know what he thought of the look in his bride's face; +but that is how I roughly reconstruct history." + +"Christina was forced to decide, then, that she could not afford +not to be a princess?" + +"She was reduced by humiliation. She was assured that it was not for her +to make conditions, but to thank her stars that there were none made for her. +If she persisted, she might find it coming to pass that there would +be conditions, and the formal rupture--the rupture that the world would hear +of and pry into--would then proceed from the prince and not from her." + +"That 's all nonsense!" said Madame Grandoni, energetically. + +"To us, yes; but not to the proudest girl in the world, deeply wounded +in her pride, and not stopping to calculate probabilities, +but muffling her shame, with an almost sensuous relief, +in a splendor that stood within her grasp and asked no questions. +Is it not possible that the late Mr. Light had made an outbreak +before witnesses who are still living?" + +"Certainly her marriage now," said Madame Grandoni, less analytically, +"has the advantage that it takes her away from her--parents!" + +This lady's farther comments upon the event are not immediately +pertinent to our history; there were some other comments of +which Rowland had a deeply oppressive foreboding. He called, +on the evening of the morrow upon Mrs. Hudson, and found Roderick +with the two ladies. Their companion had apparently but lately entered, +and Rowland afterwards learned that it was his first appearance +since the writing of the note which had so distressed his mother. +He had flung himself upon a sofa, where he sat with his chin upon +his breast, staring before him with a sinister spark in his eye. +He fixed his gaze on Rowland, but gave him no greeting. +He had evidently been saying something to startle the women; +Mrs. Hudson had gone and seated herself, timidly and imploringly, +on the edge of the sofa, trying to take his hand. Miss Garland +was applying herself to some needlework with conscious intentness. + +Mrs. Hudson gave Rowland, on his entrance, a touching look +of gratitude. "Oh, we have such blessed news!" she said. +"Roderick is ready to leave Rome." + +"It 's not blessed news; it 's most damnable news!" cried Roderick. + +"Oh, but we are very glad, my son, and I am sure you will be +when you get away. You 're looking most dreadfully thin; +is n't he, Mr. Mallet? It 's plain enough you need a change. +I 'm sure we will go wherever you like. Where would you +like to go?" + +Roderick turned his head slowly and looked at her. He had let +her take his hand, which she pressed tenderly between her own. +He gazed at her for some time in silence. "Poor mother!" +he said at last, in a portentous tone. + +"My own dear son!" murmured Mrs. Hudson in all the innocence +of her trust. + +"I don't care a straw where you go! I don't care a straw for anything!" + +"Oh, my dear boy, you must not say that before all of us here-- +before Mary, before Mr. Mallet!" + +"Mary--Mr. Mallet?" Roderick repeated, almost savagely. +He released himself from the clasp of his mother's +hand and turned away, leaning his elbows on his knees +and holding his head in his hands. There was a silence; +Rowland said nothing because he was watching Miss Garland. +"Why should I stand on ceremony with Mary and Mr. Mallet?" +Roderick presently added. "Mary pretends to believe I 'm +a fine fellow, and if she believes it as she ought to, +nothing I can say will alter her opinion. Mallet knows I 'm +a hopeless humbug; so I need n't mince my words with him." + +"Ah, my dear, don't use such dreadful language!" said Mrs. Hudson. +"Are n't we all devoted to you, and proud of you, and waiting only +to hear what you want, so that we may do it?" + +Roderick got up, and began to walk about the room; he was evidently +in a restless, reckless, profoundly demoralized condition. +Rowland felt that it was literally true that he did not care a straw +for anything, but he observed with anxiety that Mrs. Hudson, who did +not know on what delicate ground she was treading, was disposed +to chide him caressingly, as a mere expression of tenderness. +He foresaw that she would bring down the hovering thunderbolt +on her head. + +"In God's name," Roderick cried, "don't remind me of my obligations! +It 's intolerable to me, and I don't believe it 's pleasant to Mallet. +I know they 're tremendous--I know I shall never repay them. I 'm bankrupt! +Do you know what that means?" + +The poor lady sat staring, dismayed, and Rowland angrily interfered. +"Don't talk such stuff to your mother!" he cried. "Don't you see you +'re frightening her?" + +"Frightening her? she may as well be frightened first as last. +Do I frighten you, mother?" Roderick demanded. + +"Oh, Roderick, what do you mean?" whimpered the poor lady. +"Mr. Mallet, what does he mean?" + +"I mean that I 'm an angry, savage, disappointed, miserable man!" +Roderick went on. "I mean that I can't do a stroke of work nor +think a profitable thought! I mean that I 'm in a state of helpless +rage and grief and shame! Helpless, helpless--that 's what it is. +You can't help me, poor mother--not with kisses, nor tears, +nor prayers! Mary can't help me--not for all the honor she +does me, nor all the big books on art that she pores over. +Mallet can't help me--not with all his money, nor all his good example, +nor all his friendship, which I 'm so profoundly well aware of: +not with it all multiplied a thousand times and repeated +to all eternity! I thought you would help me, you and Mary; +that 's why I sent for you. But you can't, don't think it! +The sooner you give up the idea the better for you. Give up being +proud of me, too; there 's nothing left of me to be proud of! +A year ago I was a mighty fine fellow; but do you know what has +become of me now? I have gone to the devil!" + +There was something in the ring of Roderick's voice, as he uttered +these words, which sent them home with convincing force. +He was not talking for effect, or the mere sensuous pleasure +of extravagant and paradoxical utterance, as had often enough +been the case ere this; he was not even talking viciously or +ill-humoredly. He was talking passionately, desperately, and from +an irresistible need to throw off the oppressive burden of his +mother's confidence. His cruel eloquence brought the poor +lady to her feet, and she stood there with clasped hands, +petrified and voiceless. Mary Garland quickly left her place, +came straight to Roderick, and laid her hand on his arm, +looking at him with all her tormented heart in her eyes. +He made no movement to disengage himself; he simply shook his +head several times, in dogged negation of her healing powers. +Rowland had been living for the past month in such intolerable +expectancy of disaster that now that the ice was broken, +and the fatal plunge taken, his foremost feeling was almost elation; +but in a moment his orderly instincts and his natural love +of superficial smoothness overtook it. + +"I really don't see, Roderick," he said, "the profit +of your talking in just this way at just this time. +Don't you see how you are making your mother suffer?" + +"Do I enjoy it myself?" cried Roderick. "Is the suffering +all on your side and theirs? Do I look as if I were happy, +and were stirring you up with a stick for my amusement? +Here we all are in the same boat; we might as well understand +each other! These women must know that I 'm not to be counted on. +That sounds remarkably cool, no doubt, and I certainly don't +deny your right to be utterly disgusted with me." + +"Will you keep what you have got to say till another time," +said Mary, "and let me hear it alone?" + +"Oh, I 'll let you hear it as often as you please; but what 's +the use of keeping it? I 'm in the humor; it won't keep! +It 's a very simple matter. I 'm a failure, that 's all; I 'm not +a first-rate man. I 'm second-rate, tenth-rate, anything you please. +After that, it 's all one!" + +Mary Garland turned away and buried her face in her hands; +but Roderick, struck, apparently, in some unwonted fashion +with her gesture, drew her towards him again, and went on +in a somewhat different tone. "It 's hardly worth while we +should have any private talk about this, Mary," he said. +"The thing would be comfortable for neither of us. It 's better, +after all, that it be said once for all and dismissed. +There are things I can't talk to you about. Can I, at least? +You are such a queer creature!" + +"I can imagine nothing you should n't talk to me about," said Mary. + +"You are not afraid?" he demanded, sharply, looking at her. + +She turned away abruptly, with lowered eyes, hesitating a moment. +"Anything you think I should hear, I will hear," she said. +And then she returned to her place at the window and took +up her work. + +"I have had a great blow," said Roderick. "I was a great ass, +but it does n't make the blow any easier to bear." + +"Mr. Mallet, tell me what Roderick means!" said Mrs. Hudson, +who had found her voice, in a tone more peremptory than Rowland +had ever heard her use. + +"He ought to have told you before," said Roderick. +"Really, Rowland, if you will allow me to say so, you ought! +You could have given a much better account of all this than I myself; +better, especially, in that it would have been more lenient to me. +You ought to have let them down gently; it would have saved them +a great deal of pain. But you always want to keep things so smooth! +Allow me to say that it 's very weak of you." + +"I hereby renounce such weakness!" said Rowland. + +"Oh, what is it, sir; what is it?" groaned Mrs. Hudson, insistently. + +"It 's what Roderick says: he 's a failure!" + +Mary Garland, on hearing this declaration, gave Rowland a single glance +and then rose, laid down her work, and walked rapidly out of the room. +Mrs. Hudson tossed her head and timidly bristled. "This from you, +Mr. Mallet!" she said with an injured air which Rowland found harrowing. + +But Roderick, most characteristically, did not in the least resent his +friend's assertion; he sent him, on the contrary, one of those large, +clear looks of his, which seemed to express a stoical pleasure +in Rowland's frankness, and which set his companion, then and there, +wondering again, as he had so often done before, at the extraordinary +contradictions of his temperament. "My dear mother," Roderick said, +"if you had had eyes that were not blinded by this sad maternal vanity, +you would have seen all this for yourself; you would have seen that I +'m anything but prosperous." + +"Is it anything about money?" cried Mrs. Hudson. +"Oh, do write to Mr. Striker!" + +"Money?" said Roderick. "I have n't a cent of money; +I 'm bankrupt!" + +"Oh, Mr. Mallet, how could you let him?" asked Mrs. Hudson, terribly. + +"Everything I have is at his service," said Rowland, feeling ill. + +"Of course Mr. Mallet will help you, my son!" cried the poor lady, eagerly. + +"Oh, leave Mr. Mallet alone!" said Roderick. "I have squeezed him dry; +it 's not my fault, at least, if I have n't!" + +"Roderick, what have you done with all your money?" his mother demanded. + +"Thrown it away! It was no such great amount. I have done +nothing this winter." + +"You have done nothing?" + +"I have done no work! Why in the world did n't you guess it and spare +me all this? Could n't you see I was idle, distracted, dissipated?" + +"Dissipated, my dear son?" Mrs. Hudson repeated. + +"That 's over for the present! But could n't you see--could n't Mary see-- +that I was in a damnably bad way?" + +"I have no doubt Miss Garland saw," said Rowland. + +"Mary has said nothing!" cried Mrs. Hudson. + +"Oh, she 's a fine girl!" Rowland said. + +"Have you done anything that will hurt poor Mary?" +Mrs. Hudson asked. + +"I have only been thinking night and day of another woman!" + +Mrs. Hudson dropped helplessly into her seat again. +"Oh dear, dear, had n't we better go home?" + +"Not to get out of her way!" Roderick said. "She has started +on a career of her own, and she does n't care a straw for me. +My head was filled with her; I could think of nothing else; +I would have sacrificed everything to her--you, Mary, Mallet, my work, +my fortune, my future, my honor! I was in a fine state, eh? +I don't pretend to be giving you good news; but I 'm telling the simple, +literal truth, so that you may know why I have gone to the dogs. +She pretended to care greatly for all this, and to be willing to make +any sacrifice in return; she had a magnificent chance, for she was +being forced into a mercenary marriage with a man she detested. +She led me to believe that she would give this up, and break +short off, and keep herself free and sacred and pure for me. +This was a great honor, and you may believe that I valued it. +It turned my head, and I lived only to see my happiness come to pass. +She did everything to encourage me to hope it would; everything that +her infernal coquetry and falsity could suggest." + +"Oh, I say, this is too much!" Rowland broke out. + +"Do you defend her?" Roderick cried, with a renewal of his passion. +"Do you pretend to say that she gave me no hopes?" +He had been speaking with growing bitterness, quite losing sight +of his mother's pain and bewilderment in the passionate joy +of publishing his wrongs. Since he was hurt, he must cry out; +since he was in pain, he must scatter his pain abroad. +Of his never thinking of others, save as they spoke and moved +from his cue, as it were, this extraordinary insensibility +to the injurious effects of his eloquence was a capital example; +the more so as the motive of his eloquence was never an appeal +for sympathy or compassion, things to which he seemed +perfectly indifferent and of which he could make no use. +The great and characteristic point with him was the perfect +absoluteness of his own emotions and experience. He never saw +himself as part of a whole; only as the clear-cut, sharp-edged, +isolated individual, rejoicing or raging, as the case might be, +but needing in any case absolutely to affirm himself. +All this, to Rowland, was ancient history, but his perception +of it stirred within him afresh, at the sight of Roderick's sense +of having been betrayed. That he, under the circumstances, +should not in fairness be the first to lodge a complaint +of betrayal was a point to which, at his leisure, +Rowland was of course capable of rendering impartial justice; +but Roderick's present desperation was so peremptory that it +imposed itself on one's sympathies. "Do you pretend to say," +he went on, "that she did n't lead me along to the very edge +of fulfillment and stupefy me with all that she suffered me +to believe, all that she sacredly promised? It amused her +to do it, and she knew perfectly well what she really meant. +She never meant to be sincere; she never dreamed she could be. +She 's a ravenous flirt, and why a flirt is a flirt is more than I +can tell you. I can't understand playing with those matters; +for me they 're serious, whether I take them up or lay them down. +I don't see what 's in your head, Rowland, to attempt to defend +Miss Light; you were the first to cry out against her! +You told me she was dangerous, and I pooh-poohed you. +You were right; you 're always right. She 's as cold +and false and heartless as she 's beautiful, and she +has sold her heartless beauty to the highest bidder. +I hope he knows what he gets!" + +"Oh, my son," cried Mrs. Hudson, plaintively, "how could you +ever care for such a dreadful creature?" + +"It would take long to tell you, dear mother!" + +Rowland's lately-deepened sympathy and compassion for Christina +was still throbbing in his mind, and he felt that, in loyalty to it, +he must say a word for her. "You believed in her too much at first," +he declared, "and you believe in her too little now." + +Roderick looked at him with eyes almost lurid, beneath lowering brows. +"She is an angel, then, after all?--that 's what you want to prove!" +he cried. "That 's consoling for me, who have lost her! +You 're always right, I say; but, dear friend, in mercy, +be wrong for once!" + +"Oh yes, Mr. Mallet, be merciful!" said Mrs. Hudson, in a tone which, +for all its gentleness, made Rowland stare. The poor fellow's +stare covered a great deal of concentrated wonder and apprehension-- +a presentiment of what a small, sweet, feeble, elderly lady +might be capable of, in the way of suddenly generated animosity. +There was no space in Mrs. Hudson's tiny maternal mind for +complications of feeling, and one emotion existed only by turning +another over flat and perching on top of it. She was evidently +not following Roderick at all in his dusky aberrations. +Sitting without, in dismay, she only saw that all was darkness +and trouble, and as Roderick's glory had now quite outstripped +her powers of imagination and urged him beyond her jurisdiction, +so that he had become a thing too precious and sacred for blame, +she found it infinitely comfortable to lay the burden of their common +affliction upon Rowland's broad shoulders. Had he not promised +to make them all rich and happy? And this was the end of it! +Rowland felt as if his trials were, in a sense, only beginning. +"Had n't you better forget all this, my dear?" Mrs. Hudson said. +"Had n't you better just quietly attend to your work?" + +"Work, madame?" cried Roderick. "My work 's over. I can't work-- +I have n't worked all winter. If I were fit for anything, +this sentimental collapse would have been just the thing +to cure me of my apathy and break the spell of my idleness. +But there 's a perfect vacuum here!" And he tapped his forehead. +"It 's bigger than ever; it grows bigger every hour!" + +"I 'm sure you have made a beautiful likeness of your poor little mother," +said Mrs. Hudson, coaxingly. + +"I had done nothing before, and I have done nothing since! +I quarreled with an excellent man, the other day, from mere +exasperation of my nerves, and threw away five thousand dollars!" + +"Threw away--five thousand dollars!" Roderick had been +wandering among formidable abstractions and allusions too dark +to penetrate. But here was a concrete fact, lucidly stated, +and poor Mrs. Hudson, for a moment, looked it in the face. +She repeated her son's words a third time with a gasping murmur, +and then, suddenly, she burst into tears. Roderick went to her, +sat down beside her, put his arm round her, fixed his eyes +coldly on the floor, and waited for her to weep herself out. +She leaned her head on his shoulder and sobbed broken-heartedly. +She said not a word, she made no attempt to scold; +but the desolation of her tears was overwhelming. +It lasted some time--too long for Rowland's courage. +He had stood silent, wishing simply to appear very respectful; +but the elation that was mentioned a while since had +utterly ebbed, and he found his situation intolerable. +He walked away--not, perhaps, on tiptoe, but with a total +absence of bravado in his tread. + +The next day, while he was at home, the servant brought +him the card of a visitor. He read with surprise the name +of Mrs. Hudson, and hurried forward to meet her. +He found her in his sitting-room, leaning on the arm of +her son and looking very pale, her eyes red with weeping, +and her lips tightly compressed. Her advent puzzled him, +and it was not for some time that he began to understand +the motive of it. Roderick's countenance threw no light upon it; +but Roderick's countenance, full of light as it was, +in a way, itself, had never thrown light upon anything. +He had not been in Rowland's rooms for several weeks, +and he immediately began to look at those of his own works +that adorned them. He lost himself in silent contemplation. +Mrs. Hudson had evidently armed herself with dignity, +and, so far as she might, she meant to be impressive. +Her success may be measured by the fact that Rowland's whole +attention centred in the fear of seeing her begin to weep. +She told him that she had come to him for practical advice; +she begged to remind him that she was a stranger in the land. +Where were they to go, please? what were they to do? +Rowland glanced at Roderick, but Roderick had his back turned +and was gazing at his Adam with the intensity with which he might +have examined Michael Angelo's Moses. + +"Roderick says he does n't know, he does n't care," Mrs. Hudson said; +"he leaves it entirely to you." + +Many another man, in Rowland's place, would have greeted +this information with an irate and sarcastic laugh, +and told his visitors that he thanked them infinitely +for their confidence, but that, really, as things stood now, +they must settle these matters between themselves; +many another man might have so demeaned himself, even if, +like Rowland, he had been in love with Mary Garland and pressingly +conscious that her destiny was also part of the question. +But Rowland swallowed all hilarity and all sarcasm, +and let himself seriously consider Mrs. Hudson's petition. +His wits, however, were but indifferently at his command; +they were dulled by his sense of the inexpressible change in +Mrs. Hudson's attitude. Her visit was evidently intended as a formal +reminder of the responsiblities Rowland had worn so lightly. +Mrs. Hudson was doubtless too sincerely humble a person to suppose +that if he had been recreant to his vows of vigilance and tenderness, +her still, small presence would operate as a chastisement. +But by some diminutive logical process of her own she +had convinced herself that she had been weakly trustful, +and that she had suffered Rowland to think too meanly, +not only of her understanding, but of her social consequence. +A visit in her best gown would have an admonitory effect +as regards both of these attributes; it would cancel some +favors received, and show him that she was no such fool! +These were the reflections of a very shy woman, who, determining for +once in her life to hold up her head, was perhaps carrying it +a trifle extravagantly. + +"You know we have very little money to spend," she said, +as Rowland remained silent. "Roderick tells me that he has +debts and nothing at all to pay them with. He says I must write +to Mr. Striker to sell my house for what it will bring, and send +me out the money. When the money comes I must give it to him. +I 'm sure I don't know; I never heard of anything so dreadful! +My house is all I have. But that is all Roderick will say. +We must be very economical." + +Before this speech was finished Mrs. Hudson's voice had begun to +quaver softly, and her face, which had no capacity for the expression +of superior wisdom, to look as humbly appealing as before. +Rowland turned to Roderick and spoke like a school-master. "Come +away from those statues, and sit down here and listen to me!" + +Roderick started, but obeyed with the most graceful docility. + +"What do you propose to your mother to do?" Rowland asked. + +"Propose?" said Roderick, absently. "Oh, I propose nothing." + +The tone, the glance, the gesture with which this was said were +horribly irritating (though obviously without the slightest intention +of being so), and for an instant an imprecation rose to Rowland's lips. +But he checked it, and he was afterwards glad he had done so. +"You must do something," he said. "Choose, select, decide!" + +"My dear Rowland, how you talk!" Roderick cried. +"The very point of the matter is that I can't do anything. +I will do as I 'm told, but I don't call that doing. +We must leave Rome, I suppose, though I don't see why. +We have got no money, and you have to pay money on the railroads." + +Mrs. Hudson surreptitiously wrung her hands. +"Listen to him, please!" she cried. "Not leave Rome, when we +have staid here later than any Christians ever did before! +It 's this dreadful place that has made us so unhappy." + +"That 's very true," said Roderick, serenely. "If I had not come to Rome, +I would n't have risen, and if I had not risen, I should n't have fallen." + +"Fallen--fallen!" murmured Mrs. Hudson. "Just hear him!" + +"I will do anything you say, Rowland," Roderick added. +"I will do anything you want. I have not been unkind to my mother-- +have I, mother? I was unkind yesterday, without meaning it; +for after all, all that had to be said. Murder will out, +and my low spirits can't be hidden. But we talked it over and +made it up, did n't we? It seemed to me we did. Let Rowland +decide it, mother; whatever he suggests will be the right thing." +And Roderick, who had hardly removed his eyes from the statues, +got up again and went back to look at them. + +Mrs. Hudson fixed her eyes upon the floor in silence. +There was not a trace in Roderick's face, or in his voice, +of the bitterness of his emotion of the day before, and not +a hint of his having the lightest weight upon his conscience. +He looked at Rowland with his frank, luminous eye as if there +had never been a difference of opinion between them; as if each +had ever been for both, unalterably, and both for each. + +Rowland had received a few days before a letter from a lady +of his acquaintance, a worthy Scotswoman domiciled in a villa +upon one of the olive-covered hills near Florence. She held her +apartment in the villa upon a long lease, and she enjoyed for a sum +not worth mentioning the possession of an extraordinary number +of noble, stone-floored rooms, with ceilings vaulted and frescoed, +and barred windows commanding the loveliest view in the world. +She was a needy and thrifty spinster, who never hesitated to +declare that the lovely view was all very well, but that for her +own part she lived in the villa for cheapness, and that if she +had a clear three hundred pounds a year she would go and really +enjoy life near her sister, a baronet's lady, at Glasgow. +She was now proposing to make a visit to that exhilarating city, +and she desired to turn an honest penny by sub-letting for a few +weeks her historic Italian chambers. The terms on which she occupied +them enabled her to ask a rent almost jocosely small, and she begged +Rowland to do what she called a little genteel advertising for her. +Would he say a good word for her rooms to his numerous friends, +as they left Rome? He said a good word for them now to Mrs. Hudson, +and told her in dollars and cents how cheap a summer's lodging +she might secure. He dwelt upon the fact that she would +strike a truce with tables-d'hote and have a cook of her own, +amenable possibly to instruction in the Northampton mysteries. +He had touched a tender chord; Mrs. Hudson became almost cheerful. +Her sentiments upon the table-d'hote system and upon foreign household +habits generally were remarkable, and, if we had space for it, +would repay analysis; and the idea of reclaiming a lost soul to the +Puritanic canons of cookery quite lightened the burden of her depression. +While Rowland set forth his case Roderick was slowly walking +round the magnificent Adam, with his hands in his pockets. +Rowland waited for him to manifest an interest in their discussion, +but the statue seemed to fascinate him and he remained calmly heedless. +Rowland was a practical man; he possessed conspicuously what is called +the sense of detail. He entered into Mrs. Hudson's position minutely, +and told her exactly why it seemed good that she should remove +immediately to the Florentine villa. She received his advice +with great frigidity, looking hard at the floor and sighing, +like a person well on her guard against an insidious optimism. +But she had nothing better to propose, and Rowland received her +permission to write to his friend that he had let the rooms. + +Roderick assented to this decision without either sighs or smiles. +"A Florentine villa is a good thing!" he said. "I am at your service." + +"I 'm sure I hope you 'll get better there," moaned his mother, +gathering her shawl together. + +Roderick laid one hand on her arm and with the other pointed +to Rowland's statues. "Better or worse, remember this: +I did those things!" he said. + +Mrs. Hudson gazed at them vaguely, and Rowland said, "Remember it yourself!" + +"They are horribly good!" said Roderick. + +Rowland solemnly shrugged his shoulders; it seemed to him +that he had nothing more to say. But as the others were going, +a last light pulsation of the sense of undischarged duty led +him to address to Roderick a few words of parting advice. +"You 'll find the Villa Pandolfini very delightful, very comfortable," +he said. "You ought to be very contented there. Whether you work +or whether you loaf, it 's a place for an artist to be happy in. +I hope you will work." + +"I hope I may!" said Roderick with a magnificent smile. + +"When we meet again, have something to show me." + +"When we meet again? Where the deuce are you going?" Roderick demanded. + +"Oh, I hardly know; over the Alps." + +"Over the Alps! You 're going to leave me?" Roderick cried. + +Rowland had most distinctly meant to leave him, but his resolution +immediately wavered. He glanced at Mrs. Hudson and saw that +her eyebrows were lifted and her lips parted in soft irony. +She seemed to accuse him of a craven shirking of trouble, to demand of him +to repair his cruel havoc in her life by a solemn renewal of zeal. +But Roderick's expectations were the oddest! Such as they were, +Rowland asked himself why he should n't make a bargain with them. +"You desire me to go with you?" he asked. + +"If you don't go, I won't--that 's all! How in the world shall +I get through the summer without you?" + +"How will you get through it with me? That 's the question." + +"I don't pretend to say; the future is a dead blank. +But without you it 's not a blank--it 's certain damnation!" + +"Mercy, mercy!" murmured Mrs. Hudson. + +Rowland made an effort to stand firm, and for a moment succeeded. +"If I go with you, will you try to work?" + +Roderick, up to this moment, had been looking as unperturbed as if +the deep agitation of the day before were a thing of the remote past. +But at these words his face changed formidably; he flushed +and scowled, and all his passion returned. "Try to work!" he cried. +"Try--try! work--work! In God's name don't talk that way, +or you 'll drive me mad! Do you suppose I 'm trying not to work? +Do you suppose I stand rotting here for the fun of it? +Don't you suppose I would try to work for myself before I +tried for you?" + +"Mr. Mallet," cried Mrs. Hudson, piteously, "will you leave me +alone with this?" + +Rowland turned to her and informed her, gently, that he would go +with her to Florence. After he had so pledged himself he thought not +at all of the pain of his position as mediator between the mother's +resentful grief and the son's incurable weakness; he drank deep, +only, of the satisfaction of not separating from Mary Garland. +If the future was a blank to Roderick, it was hardly less so to himself. +He had at moments a lively foreboding of impending calamity. +He paid it no especial deference, but it made him feel indisposed +to take the future into his account. When, on his going to take leave +of Madame Grandoni, this lady asked at what time he would come back +to Rome, he answered that he was coming back either never or forever. +When she asked him what he meant, he said he really could +n't tell her, and parted from her with much genuine emotion; +the more so, doubtless, that she blessed him in a quite loving, +maternal fashion, and told him she honestly believed him to be +the best fellow in the world. + +The Villa Pandolfini stood directly upon a small grass-grown piazza, +on the top of a hill which sloped straight from one of the gates of Florence. +It offered to the outer world a long, rather low fa;alcade, colored a dull, +dark yellow, and pierced with windows of various sizes, no one of which, +save those on the ground floor, was on the same level with any other. +Within, it had a great, cool, gray cortile, with high, light arches +around it, heavily-corniced doors, of majestic altitude, opening out of it, +and a beautiful mediaeval well on one side of it. Mrs. Hudson's rooms +opened into a small garden supported on immense substructions, which were +planted on the farther side of the hill, as it sloped steeply away. +This garden was a charming place. Its south wall was curtained with a dense +orange vine, a dozen fig-trees offered you their large-leaved shade, +and over the low parapet the soft, grave Tuscan landscape kept you company. +The rooms themselves were as high as chapels and as cool as royal sepulchres. +Silence, peace, and security seemed to abide in the ancient house and +make it an ideal refuge for aching hearts. Mrs. Hudson had a stunted, +brown-faced Maddalena, who wore a crimson handkerchief passed over +her coarse, black locks and tied under her sharp, pertinacious chin, +and a smile which was as brilliant as a prolonged flash of lightning. +She smiled at everything in life, especially the things she did n't +like and which kept her talent for mendacity in healthy exercise. +A glance, a word, a motion was sufficient to make her show her teeth +at you like a cheerful she-wolf. This inexpugnable smile constituted +her whole vocabulary in her dealings with her melancholy mistress, +to whom she had been bequeathed by the late occupant of the apartment, +and who, to Rowland's satisfaction, promised to be diverted from her +maternal sorrows by the still deeper perplexities of Maddalena's theory +of roasting, sweeping, and bed-making. + +Rowland took rooms at a villa a trifle nearer Florence, +whence in the summer mornings he had five minutes' +walk in the sharp, black, shadow-strip projected by winding, +flower-topped walls, to join his friends. The life at +the Villa Pandolfini, when it had fairly defined itself, +was tranquil and monotonous, but it might have borrowed from +exquisite circumstance an absorbing charm. If a sensible shadow +rested upon it, this was because it had an inherent vice; +it was feigning a repose which it very scantily felt. +Roderick had lost no time in giving the full measure of his +uncompromising chagrin, and as he was the central figure +of the little group, as he held its heart-strings all in his +own hand, it reflected faithfully the eclipse of his own genius. +No one had ventured upon the cheerful commonplace of saying that +the change of air and of scene would restore his spirits; this would +have had, under the circumstances, altogether too silly a sound. +The change in question had done nothing of the sort, and his +companions had, at least, the comfort of their perspicacity. +An essential spring had dried up within him, and there +was no visible spiritual law for making it flow again. +He was rarely violent, he expressed little of the irritation +and ennui that he must have constantly felt; it was as if +he believed that a spiritual miracle for his redemption was +just barely possible, and was therefore worth waiting for. +The most that one could do, however, was to wait grimly +and doggedly, suppressing an imprecation as, from time to time, +one looked at one's watch. An attitude of positive urbanity +toward life was not to be expected; it was doing one's +duty to hold one's tongue and keep one's hands off one's +own windpipe, and other people's. Roderick had long silences, +fits of profound lethargy, almost of stupefaction. +He used to sit in the garden by the hour, with his head +thrown back, his legs outstretched, his hands in his pockets, +and his eyes fastened upon the blinding summer sky. He would +gather a dozen books about him, tumble them out on the ground, +take one into his lap, and leave it with the pages unturned. +These moods would alternate with hours of extreme restlessness, +during which he mysteriously absented himself. +He bore the heat of the Italian summer like a salamander, +and used to start off at high noon for long walks over the hills. +He often went down into Florence, rambled through her close, +dim streets, and lounged away mornings in the churches and galleries. +On many of these occasions Rowland bore him company, +for they were the times when he was most like his former self. +Before Michael Angelo's statues and the pictures of +the early Tuscans, he quite forgot his own infelicities, +and picked up the thread of his old aesthetic loquacity. +He had a particular fondness for Andrea del Sarto, and affirmed +that if he had been a painter he would have taken the author +of the Madonna del Sacco for his model. He found in Florence +some of his Roman friends, and went down on certain evenings +to meet them. More than once he asked Mary Garland to go with +him into town, and showed her the things he most cared for. +He had some modeling clay brought up to the villa and deposited +in a room suitable for his work; but when this had been done +he turned the key in the door and the clay never was touched. +His eye was heavy and his hand cold, and his mother put up +a secret prayer that he might be induced to see a doctor. +But on a certain occasion, when her prayer became articulate, +he had a great outburst of anger and begged her to know, +once for all, that his health was better than it had ever been. +On the whole, and most of the time, he was a sad spectacle; +he looked so hopelessly idle. If he was not querulous and bitter, +it was because he had taken an extraordinary vow not to be; +a vow heroic, for him, a vow which those who knew him well had +the tenderness to appreciate. Talking with him was like skating +on thin ice, and his companions had a constant mental vision +of spots designated "dangerous." + +This was a difficult time for Rowland; he said to himself that he would +endure it to the end, but that it must be his last adventure of the kind. +Mrs. Hudson divided her time between looking askance at her son, +with her hands tightly clasped about her pocket-handkerchief, +as if she were wringing it dry of the last hour's tears, and turning +her eyes much more directly upon Rowland, in the mutest, the feeblest, +the most intolerable reproachfulness. She never phrased her accusations, +but he felt that in the unillumined void of the poor lady's mind they +loomed up like vaguely-outlined monsters. Her demeanor caused him +the acutest suffering, and if, at the outset of his enterprise, he had seen, +how dimly soever, one of those plaintive eye-beams in the opposite scale, +the brilliancy of Roderick's promises would have counted for little. +They made their way to the softest spot in his conscience and kept it +chronically aching. If Mrs. Hudson had been loquacious and vulgar, +he would have borne even a less valid persecution with greater fortitude. +But somehow, neat and noiseless and dismally lady-like, as she +sat there, keeping her grievance green with her soft-dropping tears, +her displeasure conveyed an overwhelming imputation of brutality. +He felt like a reckless trustee who has speculated with the widow's mite, +and is haunted with the reflection of ruin that he sees in her tearful eyes. +He did everything conceivable to be polite to Mrs. Hudson, and to treat +her with distinguished deference. Perhaps his exasperated nerves made +him overshoot the mark, and rendered his civilities a trifle peremptory. +She seemed capable of believing that he was trying to make a fool of her; +she would have thought him cruelly recreant if he had suddenly departed +in desperation, and yet she gave him no visible credit for his constancy. +Women are said by some authorities to be cruel; I don't know how true this is, +but it may at least be pertinent to remark that Mrs. Hudson was very much +of a woman. It often seemed to Rowland that he had too decidedly forfeited +his freedom, and that there was something positively grotesque in a man +of his age and circumstances living in such a moral bondage. + +But Mary Garland had helped him before, and she helped him now-- +helped him not less than he had assured himself she would +when he found himself drifting to Florence. Yet her help +was rendered in the same unconscious, unacknowledged fashion +as before; there was no explicit change in their relations. +After that distressing scene in Rome which had immediately +preceded their departure, it was of course impossible that there +should not be on Miss Garland's part some frankness of allusion +to Roderick's sad condition. She had been present, the reader +will remember, during only half of his unsparing confession, +and Rowland had not seen her confronted with any absolute +proof of Roderick's passion for Christina Light. +But he knew that she knew far too much for her happiness; +Roderick had told him, shortly after their settlement at +the Villa Pandolfini, that he had had a "tremendous talk" +with his cousin. Rowland asked no questions about it; +he preferred not to know what had passed between them. +If their interview had been purely painful, he wished to ignore +it for Miss Garland's sake; and if it had sown the seeds +of reconciliation, he wished to close his eyes to it for his own-- +for the sake of that unshaped idea, forever dismissed and yet +forever present, which hovered in the background of his consciousness, +with a hanging head, as it were, and yet an unshamed glance, +and whose lightest motions were an effectual bribe to patience. +Was the engagement broken? Rowland wondered, yet without asking. +But it hardly mattered, for if, as was more than probable, +Miss Garland had peremptorily released her cousin, +her own heart had by no means recovered its liberty. +It was very certain to Rowland's mind that if she had given him +up she had by no means ceased to care for him passionately, +and that, to exhaust her charity for his weaknesses, +Roderick would have, as the phrase is, a long row to hoe. +She spoke of Roderick as she might have done of a person +suffering from a serious malady which demanded much tenderness; +but if Rowland had found it possible to accuse her of dishonesty +he would have said now that she believed appreciably less than +she pretended to in her victim's being an involuntary patient. +There are women whose love is care-taking and patronizing, +and who rather prefer a weak man because he gives them +a comfortable sense of strength. It did not in the least +please Rowland to believe that Mary Garland was one of these; +for he held that such women were only males in petticoats, +and he was convinced that Miss Garland's heart was constructed +after the most perfect feminine model. That she was a very different +woman from Christina Light did not at all prove that she was less +a woman, and if the Princess Casamassima had gone up into a high +place to publish her disrelish of a man who lacked the virile will, +it was very certain that Mary Garland was not a person to put up, +at any point, with what might be called the princess's leavings. +It was Christina's constant practice to remind you of the complexity +of her character, of the subtlety of her mind, of her troublous +faculty of seeing everything in a dozen different lights. +Mary Garland had never pretended not to be simple; but Rowland had a +theory that she had really a more multitudinous sense of human things, +a more delicate imagination, and a finer instinct of character. +She did you the honors of her mind with a grace far less regal, +but was not that faculty of quite as remarkable an adjustment? +If in poor Christina's strangely commingled nature there was +circle within circle, and depth beneath depth, it was to be +believed that Mary Garland, though she did not amuse herself +with dropping stones into her soul, and waiting to hear them fall, +laid quite as many sources of spiritual life under contribution. +She had believed Roderick was a fine fellow when she bade him +farewell beneath the Northampton elms, and this belief, to her young, +strenuous, concentrated imagination, had meant many things. +If it was to grow cold, it would be because disenchantment +had become total and won the battle at each successive point. + +Miss Garland had even in her face and carriage something +of the preoccupied and wearied look of a person who is watching +at a sick-bed; Roderick's broken fortunes, his dead ambitions, +were a cruel burden to the heart of a girl who had believed +that he possessed "genius," and supposed that genius was to one's +spiritual economy what full pockets were to one's domestic. +And yet, with her, Rowland never felt, as with Mrs. Hudson, +that undercurrent of reproach and bitterness toward himself, +that impertinent implication that he had defrauded her of happiness. +Was this justice, in Miss Garland, or was it mercy? +The answer would have been difficult, for she had almost let +Rowland feel before leaving Rome that she liked him well enough +to forgive him an injury. It was partly, Rowland fancied, +that there were occasional lapses, deep and sweet, in her sense +of injury. When, on arriving at Florence, she saw the place Rowland +had brought them to in their trouble, she had given him a look +and said a few words to him that had seemed not only a remission +of guilt but a positive reward. This happened in the court +of the villa--the large gray quadrangle, overstretched, from edge +to edge of the red-tiled roof, by the soft Italian sky. +Mary had felt on the spot the sovereign charm of the place; +it was reflected in her deeply intelligent glance, and Rowland +immediately accused himself of not having done the villa justice. +Miss Garland took a mighty fancy to Florence, and used to look +down wistfully at the towered city from the windows and garden. +Roderick having now no pretext for not being her cicerone, +Rowland was no longer at liberty, as he had been in Rome, +to propose frequent excursions to her. Roderick's own +invitations, however, were not frequent, and Rowland more than +once ventured to introduce her to a gallery or a church. +These expeditions were not so blissful, to his sense, +as the rambles they had taken together in Rome, for his +companion only half surrendered herself to her enjoyment, +and seemed to have but a divided attention at her command. +Often, when she had begun with looking intently at a picture, +her silence, after an interval, made him turn and glance at her. +He usually found that if she was looking at the picture still, +she was not seeing it. Her eyes were fixed, but her thoughts +were wandering, and an image more vivid than any that Raphael +or Titian had drawn had superposed itself upon the canvas. +She asked fewer questions than before, and seemed to have lost +heart for consulting guide-books and encyclopaedias. From time +to time, however, she uttered a deep, full murmur of gratification. +Florence in midsummer was perfectly void of travelers, and the dense +little city gave forth its aesthetic aroma with a larger frankness, +as the nightingale sings when the listeners have departed. +The churches were deliciously cool, but the gray streets +were stifling, and the great, dove-tailed polygons of pavement +as hot to the tread as molten lava. Rowland, who suffered from +intense heat, would have found all this uncomfortable in solitude; +but Florence had never charmed him so completely as during +these midsummer strolls with his preoccupied companion. +One evening they had arranged to go on the morrow to the Academy. +Miss Garland kept her appointment, but as soon as she appeared, +Rowland saw that something painful had befallen her. +She was doing her best to look at her ease, but her face bore +the marks of tears. Rowland told her that he was afraid she was ill, +and that if she preferred to give up the visit to Florence +he would submit with what grace he might. She hesitated +a moment, and then said she preferred to adhere to their plan. +"I am not well," she presently added, "but it 's a moral malady, +and in such cases I consider your company beneficial." + +"But if I am to be your doctor," said Rowland, "you must tell +me how your illness began." + +"I can tell you very little. It began with Mrs. Hudson +being unjust to me, for the first time in her life. +And now I am already better!" + +I mention this incident because it confirmed an impression +of Rowland's from which he had derived a certain consolation. +He knew that Mrs. Hudson considered her son's ill-regulated passion +for Christina Light a very regrettable affair, but he suspected +that her manifest compassion had been all for Roderick, and not +in the least for Mary Garland. She was fond of the young girl, +but she had valued her primarily, during the last two years, +as a kind of assistant priestess at Roderick's shrine. +Roderick had honored her by asking her to become his wife, +but that poor Mary had any rights in consequence Mrs. Hudson was +quite incapable of perceiving. Her sentiment on the subject was +of course not very vigorously formulated, but she was unprepared +to admit that Miss Garland had any ground for complaint. +Roderick was very unhappy; that was enough, and Mary's duty was +to join her patience and her prayers to those of his doting mother. +Roderick might fall in love with whom he pleased; no doubt that women +trained in the mysterious Roman arts were only too proud and too +happy to make it easy for him; and it was very presuming in poor, +plain Mary to feel any personal resentment. Mrs. Hudson's +philosophy was of too narrow a scope to suggest that a mother may +forgive where a mistress cannot, and she thought herself greatly +aggrieved that Miss Garland was not so disinterested as herself. +She was ready to drop dead in Roderick's service, and she was +quite capable of seeing her companion falter and grow faint, +without a tremor of compassion. Mary, apparently, had given +some intimation of her belief that if constancy is the flower +of devotion, reciprocity is the guarantee of constancy, +and Mrs. Hudson had rebuked her failing faith and called it cruelty. +That Miss Garland had found it hard to reason with Mrs. Hudson, +that she suffered deeply from the elder lady's softly bitter imputations, +and that, in short, he had companionship in misfortune-- +all this made Rowland find a certain luxury in his discomfort. + +The party at Villa Pandolfini used to sit in the garden +in the evenings, which Rowland almost always spent with them. +Their entertainment was in the heavily perfumed air, in the dim, +far starlight, in the crenelated tower of a neighboring villa, +which loomed vaguely above them in the warm darkness, +and in such conversation as depressing reflections allowed. +Roderick, clad always in white, roamed about like a restless ghost, +silent for the most part, but making from time to time a +brief observation, characterized by the most fantastic cynicism. +Roderick's contributions to the conversation were indeed +always so fantastic that, though half the time they wearied +him unspeakably, Rowland made an effort to treat them humorously. +With Rowland alone Roderick talked a great deal more; often about +things related to his own work, or about artistic and aesthetic +matters in general. He talked as well as ever, or even better; +but his talk always ended in a torrent of groans and curses. +When this current set in, Rowland straightway turned his back +or stopped his ears, and Roderick now witnessed these movements +with perfect indifference. When the latter was absent +from the star-lit circle in the garden, as often happened, +Rowland knew nothing of his whereabouts; he supposed him +to be in Florence, but he never learned what he did there. +All this was not enlivening, but with an even, muffled tread the days +followed each other, and brought the month of August to a close. +One particular evening at this time was most enchanting; +there was a perfect moon, looking so extraordinarily large +that it made everything its light fell upon seem small; +the heat was tempered by a soft west wind, and the wind +was laden with the odors of the early harvest. The hills, +the vale of the Arno, the shrunken river, the domes of Florence, +were vaguely effaced by the dense moonshine; they looked +as if they were melting out of sight like an exorcised vision. +Rowland had found the two ladies alone at the villa, and he had sat +with them for an hour. He felt absolutely hushed by the solemn +splendor of the scene, but he had risked the remark that, +whatever life might yet have in store for either of them, +this was a night that they would never forget. + +"It 's a night to remember on one's death-bed!" Miss Garland exclaimed. + +"Oh, Mary, how can you!" murmured Mrs. Hudson, to whom this savored +of profanity, and to whose shrinking sense, indeed, the accumulated +loveliness of the night seemed to have something shameless and defiant. + +They were silent after this, for some time, but at last Rowland +addressed certain idle words to Miss Garland. She made no reply, +and he turned to look at her. She was sitting motionless, +with her head pressed to Mrs. Hudson's shoulder, and the latter lady +was gazing at him through the silvered dusk with a look which gave +a sort of spectral solemnity to the sad, weak meaning of her eyes. +She had the air, for the moment, of a little old malevolent fairy. +Miss Garland, Rowland perceived in an instant, was not +absolutely motionless; a tremor passed through her figure. +She was weeping, or on the point of weeping, and she could not trust +herself to speak. Rowland left his place and wandered to another +part of the garden, wondering at the motive of her sudden tears. +Of women's sobs in general he had a sovereign dread, but these, +somehow, gave him a certain pleasure. When he returned to his +place Miss Garland had raised her head and banished her tears. +She came away from Mrs. Hudson, and they stood for a short time +leaning against the parapet. + +"It seems to you very strange, I suppose," said Rowland, +"that there should be any trouble in such a world as this." + +"I used to think," she answered, "that if any trouble came +to me I would bear it like a stoic. But that was at home, +where things don't speak to us of enjoyment as they do here. +Here it is such a mixture; one does n't know what to choose, +what to believe. Beauty stands there--beauty such as this night +and this place, and all this sad, strange summer, have been +so full of--and it penetrates to one's soul and lodges there, +and keeps saying that man was not made to suffer, but to enjoy. +This place has undermined my stoicism, but--shall I tell you? +I feel as if I were saying something sinful--I love it!" + +"If it is sinful, I absolve you," said Rowland, "in so far as I have power. +We are made, I suppose, both to suffer and to enjoy. As you say, +it 's a mixture. Just now and here, it seems a peculiarly strange one. +But we must take things in turn." + +His words had a singular aptness, for he had hardly uttered them +when Roderick came out from the house, evidently in his darkest mood. +He stood for a moment gazing hard at the view. + +"It 's a very beautiful night, my son," said his mother, going to him timidly, +and touching his arm. + +He passed his hand through his hair and let it stay there, +clasping his thick locks. "Beautiful?" he cried; +"of course it 's beautiful! Everything is beautiful; +everything is insolent, defiant, atrocious with beauty. +Nothing is ugly but me--me and my poor dead brain!" + +"Oh, my dearest son," pleaded poor Mrs. Hudson, "don't you +feel any better?" + +Roderick made no immediate answer; but at last he spoke in a different voice. +"I came expressly to tell you that you need n't trouble yourselves any longer +to wait for something to turn up. Nothing will turn up! It 's all over! +I said when I came here I would give it a chance. I have given it a chance. +Have n't I, eh? Have n't I, Rowland? It 's no use; the thing 's a failure! +Do with me now what you please. I recommend you to set me up there at the end +of the garden and shoot me." + +"I feel strongly inclined," said Rowland gravely, "to go +and get my revolver." + +"Oh, mercy on us, what language!" cried Mrs. Hudson. + +"Why not?" Roderick went on. "This would be a lovely night for it, +and I should be a lucky fellow to be buried in this garden. +But bury me alive, if you prefer. Take me back to Northampton." + +"Roderick, will you really come?" cried his mother. + +"Oh yes, I 'll go! I might as well be there as anywhere-- +reverting to idiocy and living upon alms. I can do nothing +with all this; perhaps I should really like Northampton. +If I 'm to vegetate for the rest of my days, I can do it there +better than here." + +"Oh, come home, come home," Mrs. Hudson said, "and we shall all be safe +and quiet and happy. My dearest son, come home with your poor mother!" + +"Let us go, then, and go quickly!" + +Mrs. Hudson flung herself upon his neck for gratitude. +"We 'll go to-morrow!" she cried. "The Lord is very good to me!" + +Mary Garland said nothing to this; but she looked at Rowland, +and her eyes seemed to contain a kind of alarmed appeal. +Rowland noted it with exultation, but even without it he would +have broken into an eager protest. + +"Are you serious, Roderick?" he demanded. + +"Serious? of course not! How can a man with a crack +in his brain be serious? how can a muddlehead reason? +But I 'm not jesting, either; I can no more make jokes +than utter oracles!" + +"Are you willing to go home?" + +"Willing? God forbid! I am simply amenable to force; +if my mother chooses to take me, I won't resist. +I can't! I have come to that!" + +"Let me resist, then," said Rowland. "Go home as you are now? +I can't stand by and see it." + +It may have been true that Roderick had lost his sense of humor, but he +scratched his head with a gesture that was almost comical in its effect. +"You are a queer fellow! I should think I would disgust you horribly. " + +"Stay another year," Rowland simply said. + +"Doing nothing?" + +"You shall do something. I am responsible for your doing something." + +"To whom are you responsible?" + +Rowland, before replying, glanced at Miss Garland, and his glance +made her speak quickly. "Not to me!" + +"I 'm responsible to myself," Rowland declared. + +"My poor, dear fellow!" said Roderick. + +"Oh, Mr. Mallet, are n't you satisfied?" cried Mrs. Hudson, in the tone +in which Niobe may have addressed the avenging archers, after she had seen +her eldest-born fall. "It 's out of all nature keeping him here. When we +'re in a poor way, surely our own dear native land is the place for us. +Do leave us to ourselves, sir!" + +This just failed of being a dismissal in form, and Rowland bowed his head +to it. Roderick was silent for some moments; then, suddenly, he covered +his face with his two hands. "Take me at least out of this terrible Italy," +he cried, "where everything mocks and reproaches and torments and eludes me! +Take me out of this land of impossible beauty and put me in the midst +of ugliness. Set me down where nature is coarse and flat, and men and +manners are vulgar. There must be something awfully ugly in Germany. +Pack me off there!" + +Rowland answered that if he wished to leave Italy the thing might +be arranged; he would think it over and submit a proposal on the morrow. +He suggested to Mrs. Hudson, in consequence, that she should spend +the autumn in Switzerland, where she would find a fine tonic climate, +plenty of fresh milk, and several pensions at three francs and a half a day. +Switzerland, of course, was not ugly, but one could not have everything. + +Mrs. Hudson neither thanked him nor assented; but she wept and packed +her trunks. Rowland had a theory, after the scene which led +to these preparations, that Mary Garland was weary of waiting +for Roderick to come to his senses, that the faith which had +bravely borne his manhood company hitherto, on the tortuous march +he was leading it, had begun to believe it had gone far enough. +This theory was not vitiated by something she said to him on the day +before that on which Mrs. Hudson had arranged to leave Florence. + +"Cousin Sarah, the other evening," she said, "asked you to please leave us. +I think she hardly knew what she was saying, and I hope you have +not taken offense." + +"By no means; but I honestly believe that my leaving you would contribute +greatly to Mrs. Hudson's comfort. I can be your hidden providence, you know; +I can watch you at a distance, and come upon the scene at critical moments." + +Miss Garland looked for a moment at the ground; and then, +with sudden earnestness, "I beg you to come with us!" she said. + +It need hardly be added that after this Rowland went with them. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XII. The Princess Casamassima + +Rowland had a very friendly memory of a little mountain inn, +accessible with moderate trouble from Lucerne, where he had once +spent a blissful ten days. He had at that time been trudging, +knapsack on back, over half Switzerland, and not being, +on his legs, a particularly light weight, it was no shame to him +to confess that he was mortally tired. The inn of which I speak +presented striking analogies with a cow-stable; but in spite +of this circumstance, it was crowded with hungry tourists. +It stood in a high, shallow valley, with flower-strewn Alpine +meadows sloping down to it from the base of certain rugged +rocks whose outlines were grotesque against the evening sky. +Rowland had seen grander places in Switzerland that pleased +him less, and whenever afterwards he wished to think of Alpine +opportunities at their best, he recalled this grassy concave +among the mountain-tops, and the August days he spent there, +resting deliciously, at his length, in the lee of a sun-warmed boulder, +with the light cool air stirring about his temples, the wafted +odors of the pines in his nostrils, the tinkle of the cattle-bells +in his ears, the vast progression of the mountain shadows +before his eyes, and a volume of Wordsworth in his pocket. +His face, on the Swiss hill-sides, had been scorched to within +a shade of the color nowadays called magenta, and his bed +was a pallet in a loft, which he shared with a German botanist +of colossal stature--every inch of him quaking at an open window. +These had been drawbacks to felicity, but Rowland hardly cared +where or how he was lodged, for he spent the livelong day under +the sky, on the crest of a slope that looked at the Jungfrau. +He remembered all this on leaving Florence with his friends, +and he reflected that, as the midseason was over, +accommodations would be more ample, and charges more modest. +He communicated with his old friend the landlord, and, while September +was yet young, his companions established themselves under his +guidance in the grassy valley. + +He had crossed the Saint Gothard Pass with them, in the same carriage. +During the journey from Florence, and especially during this portion of it, +the cloud that hung over the little party had been almost dissipated, +and they had looked at each other, in the close contiguity of the train +and the posting-carriage, without either accusing or consoling glances. +It was impossible not to enjoy the magnificent scenery of the Apennines +and the Italian Alps, and there was a tacit agreement among the travelers +to abstain from sombre allusions. The effect of this delicate compact +seemed excellent; it ensured them a week's intellectual sunshine. +Roderick sat and gazed out of the window with a fascinated stare, +and with a perfect docility of attitude. He concerned himself not a +particle about the itinerary, or about any of the wayside arrangements; +he took no trouble, and he gave none. He assented to everything +that was proposed, talked very little, and led for a week a perfectly +contemplative life. His mother rarely removed her eyes from him; +and if, a while before, this would have extremely irritated him, +he now seemed perfectly unconscious of her observation and profoundly +indifferent to anything that might befall him. They spent a couple +of days on the Lake of Como, at a hotel with white porticoes smothered +in oleander and myrtle, and the terrace-steps leading down to little +boats with striped awnings. They agreed it was the earthly paradise, +and they passed the mornings strolling through the perfumed alleys +of classic villas, and the evenings floating in the moonlight in a +circle of outlined mountains, to the music of silver-trickling oars. +One day, in the afternoon, the two young men took a long stroll together. +They followed the winding footway that led toward Como, close to +the lake-side, past the gates of villas and the walls of vineyards, +through little hamlets propped on a dozen arches, and bathing +their feet and their pendant tatters in the gray-green ripple; +past frescoed walls and crumbling campaniles and grassy village piazzas, +and the mouth of soft ravines that wound upward, through belts +of swinging vine and vaporous olive and splendid chestnut, to high +ledges where white chapels gleamed amid the paler boskage, and bare +cliff-surfaces, with their sun-cracked lips, drank in the azure light. +It all was confoundingly picturesque; it was the Italy that we +know from the steel engravings in old keepsakes and annuals, +from the vignettes on music-sheets and the drop-curtains at theatres; +an Italy that we can never confess to ourselves--in spite of our +own changes and of Italy's--that we have ceased to believe in. +Rowland and Roderick turned aside from the little paved footway +that clambered and dipped and wound and doubled beside the lake, +and stretched themselves idly beneath a fig-tree, on a grassy promontory. +Rowland had never known anything so divinely soothing as the dreamy +softness of that early autumn afternoon. The iridescent mountains +shut him in; the little waves, beneath him, fretted the white pebbles +at the laziest intervals; the festooned vines above him swayed just +visibly in the all but motionless air. + +Roderick lay observing it all with his arms thrown back and his +hands under his head. "This suits me," he said; "I could be +happy here and forget everything. Why not stay here forever?" +He kept his position for a long time and seemed lost in his thoughts. +Rowland spoke to him, but he made vague answers; at last +he closed his eyes. It seemed to Rowland, also, a place to stay +in forever; a place for perfect oblivion of the disagreeable. +Suddenly Roderick turned over on his face, and buried it in his arms. +There had been something passionate in his movement; but Rowland +was nevertheless surprised, when he at last jerked himself back +into a sitting posture, to perceive the trace of tears in his eyes. +Roderick turned to his friend, stretching his two hands out toward +the lake and mountains, and shaking them with an eloquent gesture, +as if his heart was too full for utterance. + +"Pity me, sir; pity me!" he presently cried. "Look at this lovely world, +and think what it must be to be dead to it!" + +"Dead?" said Rowland. + +"Dead, dead; dead and buried! Buried in an open grave, +where you lie staring up at the sailing clouds, smelling the +waving flowers, and hearing all nature live and grow above you! +That 's the way I feel!" + +"I am glad to hear it," said Rowland. "Death of that sort +is very near to resurrection." + +"It 's too horrible," Roderick went on; "it has all come over me +here tremendously! If I were not ashamed, I could shed a bushel of tears. +For one hour of what I have been, I would give up anything I may be!" + +"Never mind what you have been; be something better!" + +"I shall never be anything again: it 's no use talking! +But I don't know what secret spring has been touched +since I have lain here. Something in my heart seemed +suddenly to open and let in a flood of beauty and desire. +I know what I have lost, and I think it horrible! +Mind you, I know it, I feel it! Remember that hereafter. +Don't say that he was stupefied and senseless; +that his perception was dulled and his aspiration dead. +Say that he trembled in every nerve with a sense of the beauty +and sweetness of life; that he rebelled and protested +and shrieked; that he was buried alive, with his eyes open, +and his heart beating to madness; that he clung to every +blade of grass and every way-side thorn as he passed; +that it was the most horrible spectacle you ever witnessed; +that it was an outrage, a murder, a massacre!" + +"Good heavens, man, are you insane?" Rowland cried. + +"I never have been saner. I don't want to be bad company, and in this +beautiful spot, at this delightful hour, it seems an outrage to break +the charm. But I am bidding farewell to Italy, to beauty, to honor, +to life! I only want to assure you that I know what I lose. +I know it in every pulse of my heart! Here, where these things +are all loveliest, I take leave of them. Farewell, farewell!" + +During their passage of the Saint Gothard, Roderick absented +himself much of the time from the carriage, and rambled far +in advance, along the huge zigzags of the road. He displayed +an extraordinary activity; his light weight and slender figure +made him an excellent pedestrian, and his friends frequently saw +him skirting the edge of plunging chasms, loosening the stones +on long, steep slopes, or lifting himself against the sky, +from the top of rocky pinnacles. Mary Garland walked a great deal, +but she remained near the carriage to be with Mrs. Hudson. +Rowland remained near it to be with Miss Garland. +He trudged by her side up that magnificent ascent from Italy, +and found himself regretting that the Alps were so low, and that +their trudging was not to last a week. She was exhilarated; +she liked to walk; in the way of mountains, until within the last +few weeks, she had seen nothing greater than Mount Holyoke, +and she found that the Alps amply justified their reputation. +Rowland knew that she loved nature, but he was struck afresh +with the vivacity of her observation of it, and with her +knowledge of plants and stones. At that season the wild flowers +had mostly departed, but a few of them lingered, and Miss +Garland never failed to espy them in their outlying corners. +They interested her greatly; she was charmed when they +were old friends, and charmed even more when they were new. +She displayed a very light foot in going in quest of them, +and had soon covered the front seat of the carriage with a tangle +of strange vegetation. Rowland of course was alert in her service, +and he gathered for her several botanical specimens which at +first seemed inaccessible. One of these, indeed, had at +first appeared easier of capture than his attempt attested, +and he had paused a moment at the base of the little peak +on which it grew, measuring the risk of farther pursuit. +Suddenly, as he stood there, he remembered Roderick's defiance +of danger and of Miss Light, at the Coliseum, and he was seized +with a strong desire to test the courage of his companion. +She had just scrambled up a grassy slope near him, and had seen +that the flower was out of reach. As he prepared to approach it, +she called to him eagerly to stop; the thing was impossible! +Poor Rowland, whose passion had been terribly starved, +enjoyed immensely the thought of having her care, for three minutes, +what became of him. He was the least brutal of men, but for +a moment he was perfectly indifferent to her suffering. + +"I can get the flower," he called to her. "Will you trust me?" + +"I don't want it; I would rather not have it!" she cried. + +"Will you trust me?" he repeated, looking at her. + +She looked at him and then at the flower; he wondered +whether she would shriek and swoon, as Miss Light had done. +"I wish it were something better!" she said simply; and then +stood watching him, while he began to clamber. Rowland was +not shaped for an acrobat, and his enterprise was difficult; +but he kept his wits about him, made the most of narrow +foot-holds and coigns of vantage, and at last secured his prize. +He managed to stick it into his buttonhole and then he contrived +to descend. There was more than one chance for an ugly fall, +but he evaded them all. It was doubtless not gracefully done, +but it was done, and that was all he had proposed to himself. +He was red in the face when he offered Miss Garland the flower, +and she was visibly pale. She had watched him without moving. +All this had passed without the knowledge of Mrs. Hudson, +who was dozing beneath the hood of the carriage. Mary Garland's +eyes did not perhaps display that ardent admiration which was +formerly conferred by the queen of beauty at a tournament; +but they expressed something in which Rowland found his reward. +"Why did you do that?" she asked, gravely. + +He hesitated. He felt that it was physically possible to say, +"Because I love you!" but that it was not morally possible. +He lowered his pitch and answered, simply, "Because I wanted +to do something for you." + +"Suppose you had fallen," said Miss Garland. + +"I believed I would not fall. And you believed it, I think." + +"I believed nothing. I simply trusted you, as you asked me." + +"Quod erat demonstrandum!" cried Rowland. "I think you know Latin." + +When our four friends were established in what I have called their +grassy valley, there was a good deal of scrambling over slopes both +grassy and stony, a good deal of flower-plucking on narrow ledges, +a great many long walks, and, thanks to the lucid mountain air, +not a little exhilaration. Mrs. Hudson was obliged to intermit +her suspicions of the deleterious atmosphere of the old world, +and to acknowledge the edifying purity of the breezes of Engelthal. +She was certainly more placid than she had been in Italy; +having always lived in the country, she had missed in Rome +and Florence that social solitude mitigated by bushes and +rocks which is so dear to the true New England temperament. +The little unpainted inn at Engelthal, with its plank partitions, +its milk-pans standing in the sun, its "help," in the form of angular +young women of the country-side, reminded her of places of summer +sojourn in her native land; and the beautiful historic chambers +of the Villa Pandolfini passed from her memory without a regret, +and without having in the least modified her ideal of domiciliary grace. +Roderick had changed his sky, but he had not changed his mind; +his humor was still that of which he had given Rowland a glimpse +in that tragic explosion on the Lake of Como. He kept his despair +to himself, and he went doggedly about the ordinary business of life; +but it was easy to see that his spirit was mortally heavy, +and that he lived and moved and talked simply from the force of habit. +In that sad half-hour among the Italian olives there had been +such a fierce sincerity in his tone, that Rowland began to abdicate +the critical attitude. He began to feel that it was essentially +vain to appeal to the poor fellow's will; there was no will left; +its place was an impotent void. This view of the case indeed +was occasionally contravened by certain indications on Roderick's +part of the power of resistance to disagreeable obligations: +one might still have said, if one had been disposed to be +didactic at any hazard, that there was a method in his madness, +that his moral energy had its sleeping and its waking hours, +and that, in a cause that pleased it, it was capable of rising +with the dawn. But on the other hand, pleasure, in this case, +was quite at one with effort; evidently the greatest bliss +in life, for Roderick, would have been to have a plastic idea. +And then, it was impossible not to feel tenderly to a despair +which had so ceased to be aggressive--not to forgive a great deal +of apathy to a temper which had so unlearned its irritability. +Roderick said frankly that Switzerland made him less miserable +than Italy, and the Alps seemed less to mock at his enforced leisure +than the Apennines. He indulged in long rambles, generally alone, +and was very fond of climbing into dizzy places, where no sound could +overtake him, and there, flinging himself on the never-trodden moss, +of pulling his hat over his eyes and lounging away the hours in +perfect immobility. Rowland sometimes walked with him; though Roderick +never invited him, he seemed duly grateful for his society. +Rowland now made it a rule to treat him like a perfectly sane man, +to assume that all things were well with him, and never to allude +to the prosperity he had forfeited or to the work he was not doing. +He would have still said, had you questioned him, that Roderick's +condition was a mood--certainly a puzzling one. It might last yet +for many a weary hour; but it was a long lane that had no turning. +Roderick's blues would not last forever. Rowland's interest in Miss +Garland's relations with her cousin was still profoundly attentive, +and perplexed as he was on all sides, he found nothing transparent here. +After their arrival at Engelthal, Roderick appeared to seek the young +girl's society more than he had done hitherto, and this revival of +ardor could not fail to set his friend a-wondering. They sat together +and strolled together, and Miss Garland often read aloud to him. +One day, on their coming to dinner, after he had been lying half +the morning at her feet, in the shadow of a rock, Rowland asked +him what she had been reading. + +"I don't know," Roderick said, "I don't heed the sense." +Miss Garland heard this, and Rowland looked at her. +She looked at Roderick sharply and with a little blush. +"I listen to Mary," Roderick continued, "for the sake of her voice. +It 's distractingly sweet!" At this Miss Garland's blush deepened, +and she looked away. + +Rowland, in Florence, as we know, had suffered his imagination +to wander in the direction of certain conjectures which +the reader may deem unflattering to Miss Garland's constancy. +He had asked himself whether her faith in Roderick had +not faltered, and that demand of hers which had brought +about his own departure for Switzerland had seemed almost +equivalent to a confession that she needed his help to believe. +Rowland was essentially a modest man, and he did not risk +the supposition that Miss Garland had contrasted him +with Roderick to his own advantage; but he had a certain +consciousness of duty resolutely done which allowed itself +to fancy, at moments, that it might be not illogically +rewarded by the bestowal of such stray grains of enthusiasm +as had crumbled away from her estimate of his companion. +If some day she had declared, in a sudden burst of passion, +that she was outwearied and sickened, and that she gave up +her recreant lover, Rowland's expectation would have gone +half-way to meet her. And certainly if her passion had taken +this course no generous critic would utterly condemn her. +She had been neglected, ignored, forsaken, treated with +a contempt which no girl of a fine temper could endure. +There were girls, indeed, whose fineness, like that of Burd Helen +in the ballad, lay in clinging to the man of their love through +thick and thin, and in bowing their head to all hard usage. +This attitude had often an exquisite beauty of its own, +but Rowland deemed that he had solid reason to believe it +never could be Mary Garland's. She was not a passive creature; +she was not soft and meek and grateful for chance bounties. +With all her reserve of manner she was proud and eager; +she asked much and she wanted what she asked; she believed +in fine things and she never could long persuade herself that +fine things missed were as beautiful as fine things achieved. +Once Rowland passed an angry day. He had dreamed--it was the most +insubstantial of dreams--that she had given him the right to +believe that she looked to him to transmute her discontent. +And yet here she was throwing herself back into Roderick's arms +at his lightest overture, and playing with his own half fearful, +half shameful hopes! Rowland declared to himself that his +position was essentially detestable, and that all the philosophy +he could bring to bear upon it would make it neither honorable +nor comfortable. He would go away and make an end of it. +He did not go away; he simply took a long walk, stayed away +from the inn all day, and on his return found Miss Garland +sitting out in the moonlight with Roderick. + +Rowland, communing with himself during the restless ramble in question, +had determined that he would at least cease to observe, to heed, +or to care for what Miss Garland and Roderick might do or might +not do together. Nevertheless, some three days afterward, +the opportunity presenting itself, he deliberately broached +the subject with Roderick. He knew this was inconsistent +and faint-hearted; it was indulgence to the fingers that itched +to handle forbidden fruit. But he said to himself that it +was really more logical to be inconsistent than the reverse; +for they had formerly discussed these mysteries very candidly. +Was it not perfectly reasonable that he should wish to know +the sequel of the situation which Roderick had then delineated? +Roderick had made him promises, and it was to be expected +that he should ascertain how the promises had been kept. +Rowland could not say to himself that if the promises had been +extorted for Mary Garland's sake, his present attention to them +was equally disinterested; and so he had to admit that he was indeed +faint-hearted. He may perhaps be deemed too narrow a casuist, +but we have repeated more than once that he was solidly burdened +with a conscience. + +"I imagine," he said to Roderick, "that you are not sorry, at present, +to have allowed yourself to be dissuaded from making a final rupture +with Miss Garland." + +Roderick eyed him with the vague and absent look which had lately +become habitual to his face, and repeated "Dissuaded?" + +"Don't you remember that, in Rome, you wished to break your engagement, +and that I urged you to respect it, though it seemed to hang by +so slender a thread? I wished you to see what would come of it? +If I am not mistaken, you are reconciled to it." + +"Oh yes," said Roderick, "I remember what you said; you made it a kind +of personal favor to yourself that I should remain faithful. I consented, +but afterwards, when I thought of it, your attitude greatly amused me. +Had it ever been seen before?--a man asking another man to gratify him +by not suspending his attentions to a pretty girl!" + +"It was as selfish as anything else," said Rowland. +"One man puts his selfishness into one thing, and one into another. +It would have utterly marred my comfort to see Miss Garland +in low spirits." + +"But you liked her--you admired her, eh? So you intimated." + +"I admire her profoundly." + +"It was your originality then--to do you justice you have a great deal, +of a certain sort--to wish her happiness secured in just that fashion. +Many a man would have liked better himself to make the woman he admired happy, +and would have welcomed her low spirits as an opening for sympathy. +You were awfully queer about it." + +"So be it!" said Rowland. "The question is, Are you not glad I was queer? +Are you not finding that your affection for Miss Garland has a permanent +quality which you rather underestimated?" + +"I don't pretend to say. When she arrived in Rome, I found I did n't care +for her, and I honestly proposed that we should have no humbug about it. +If you, on the contrary, thought there was something to be gained +by having a little humbug, I was willing to try it! I don't see that +the situation is really changed. Mary Garland is all that she ever was-- +more than all. But I don't care for her! I don't care for anything, +and I don't find myself inspired to make an exception in her favor. +The only difference is that I don't care now, whether I care for her or not. +Of course, marrying such a useless lout as I am is out of the question +for any woman, and I should pay Miss Garland a poor compliment to assume +that she is in a hurry to celebrate our nuptials." + +"Oh, you 're in love!" said Rowland, not very logically. +It must be confessed, at any cost, that this assertion was made +for the sole purpose of hearing Roderick deny it. + +But it quite failed of its aim. Roderick gave a liberal shrug +of his shoulders and an irresponsible toss of his head. +"Call it what you please! I am past caring for names." + +Rowland had not only been illogical, he had also been slightly disingenuous. +He did not believe that his companion was in love; he had argued the false +to learn the true. The true was that Roderick was again, in some degree, +under a charm, and that he found a healing virtue in Mary's presence, +indisposed though he was to admit it. He had said, shortly before, +that her voice was sweet to his ear; and this was a promising beginning. +If her voice was sweet it was probable that her glance was not amiss, +that her touch had a quiet magic, and that her whole personal presence +had learned the art of not being irritating. So Rowland reasoned, +and invested Mary Garland with a still finer loveliness. + +It was true that she herself helped him little to definite conclusions, +and that he remained in puzzled doubt as to whether these happy +touches were still a matter of the heart, or had become simply +a matter of the conscience. He watched for signs that she rejoiced +in Roderick's renewed acceptance of her society; but it seemed to him +that she was on her guard against interpreting it too largely. +It was now her turn--he fancied that he sometimes gathered from +certain nameless indications of glance and tone and gesture-- +it was now her turn to be indifferent, to care for other things. +Again and again Rowland asked himself what these things were that Miss +Garland might be supposed to care for, to the injury of ideal constancy; +and again, having designated them, he divided them into two portions. +One was that larger experience, in general, which had come +to her with her arrival in Europe; the vague sense, borne in upon +her imagination, that there were more things one might do with one's +life than youth and ignorance and Northampton had dreamt of; +the revision of old pledges in the light of new emotions. +The other was the experience, in especial, of Rowland's--what? +Here Rowland always paused, in perfect sincerity, to measure afresh +his possible claim to the young girl's regard. What might he call it? +It had been more than civility and yet it had been less than devotion. +It had spoken of a desire to serve, but it had said nothing of a hope +of reward. Nevertheless, Rowland's fancy hovered about the idea +that it was recompensable, and his reflections ended in a reverie +which perhaps did not define it, but at least, on each occasion, +added a little to its volume. Since Miss Garland had asked +him as a sort of favor to herself to come also to Switzerland, +he thought it possible she might let him know whether he seemed +to have effectively served her. The days passed without her doing so, +and at last Rowland walked away to an isolated eminence some five miles +from the inn and murmured to the silent rocks that she was ungrateful. +Listening nature seemed not to contradict him, so that, on the morrow, +he asked the young girl, with an infinitesimal touch of irony, +whether it struck her that his deflection from his Florentine plan +had been attended with brilliant results. + +"Why, we are delighted that you are with us!" she answered. + +He was anything but satisfied with this; it seemed to imply +that she had forgotten that she had solemnly asked him to come. +He reminded her of her request, and recalled the place and time. +"That evening on the terrace, late, after Mrs. Hudson had gone to bed, +and Roderick being absent." + +She perfectly remembered, but the memory seemed to trouble her. +"I am afraid your kindness has been a great charge upon you," she said. +"You wanted very much to do something else." + +"I wanted above all things to oblige you, and I made no sacrifice. +But if I had made an immense one, it would be more than made up to me +by any assurance that I have helped Roderick into a better mood." + +She was silent a moment, and then, "Why do you ask me?" she said. +"You are able to judge quite as well as I." + +Rowland blushed; he desired to justify himself in the most veracious manner. +"The truth is," he said, "that I am afraid I care only in the second place +for Roderick's holding up his head. What I care for in the first place +is your happiness." + +"I don't know why that should be," she answered. +"I have certainly done nothing to make you so much my friend. +If you were to tell me you intended to leave us to-morrow, +I am afraid that I should not venture to ask you to stay. +But whether you go or stay, let us not talk of Roderick!" + +"But that," said Rowland, "does n't answer my question. +Is he better?" + +"No!" she said, and turned away. + +He was careful not to tell her that he intended to leave them. +One day, shortly after this, as the two young men sat +at the inn-door watching the sunset, which on that evening +was very striking and lurid, Rowland made an attempt to sound +his companion's present sentiment touching Christina Light. +"I wonder where she is," he said, "and what sort of a life +she is leading her prince." + +Roderick at first made no response. He was watching a figure +on the summit of some distant rocks, opposite to them. +The figure was apparently descending into the valley, +and in relief against the crimson screen of the western sky, +it looked gigantic. "Christina Light?" Roderick at last repeated, +as if arousing himself from a reverie. "Where she is? +It 's extraordinary how little I care!" + +"Have you, then, completely got over it?" + +To this Roderick made no direct reply; he sat brooding a while. +"She 's a humbug!" he presently exclaimed. + +"Possibly!" said Rowland. "But I have known worse ones." + +"She disappointed me!" Roderick continued in the same tone. + +"Had she, then, really given you hopes?" + +"Oh, don't recall it!" Roderick cried. "Why the devil should I think +of it? It was only three months ago, but it seems like ten years." +His friend said nothing more, and after a while he went on +of his own accord. "I believed there was a future in it all! +She pleased me--pleased me; and when an artist--such as I was-- +is pleased, you know!" And he paused again. "You never saw +her as I did; you never heard her in her great moments. +But there is no use talking about that! At first she would +n't regard me seriously; she chaffed me and made light of me. +But at last I forced her to admit I was a great man. +Think of that, sir! Christina Light called me a great man. +A great man was what she was looking for, and we +agreed to find our happiness for life in each other. +To please me she promised not to marry till I gave her leave. +I was not in a marrying way myself, but it was damnation to think +of another man possessing her. To spare my sensibilities, +she promised to turn off her prince, and the idea of her doing so made +me as happy as to see a perfect statue shaping itself in the block. +You have seen how she kept her promise! When I learned it, +it was as if the statue had suddenly cracked and turned hideous. +She died for me, like that!" And he snapped his fingers. +"Was it wounded vanity, disappointed desire, betrayed confidence? +I am sure I don't know; you certainly have some name for it." + +"The poor girl did the best she could," said Rowland. + +"If that was her best, so much the worse for her! +I have hardly thought of her these two months, but I have +not forgiven her." + +"Well, you may believe that you are avenged. I can't think +of her as happy." + +"I don't pity her!" said Roderick. Then he relapsed into silence, +and the two sat watching the colossal figure as it made its way downward +along the jagged silhouette of the rocks. "Who is this mighty man," +cried Roderick at last, "and what is he coming down upon us for? +We are small people here, and we can't undertake to keep company with giants." + +"Wait till we meet him on our own level," said Rowland, +"and perhaps he will not overtop us." + +"For ten minutes, at least," Roderick rejoined, "he will have +been a great man!" At this moment the figure sank beneath +the horizon line and became invisible in the uncertain light. +Suddenly Roderick said, "I would like to see her once more-- +simply to look at her." + +"I would not advise it," said Rowland. + +"It was her beauty that did it!" Roderick went on. +"It was all her beauty; in comparison, the rest was nothing. +What befooled me was to think of it as my property! +And I had made it mine--no one else had studied it as I had, +no one else understood it. What does that stick of a Casamassima +know about it at this hour? I should like to see it just once more; +it 's the only thing in the world of which I can say so." + +"I would not advise it," Rowland repeated. + +"That 's right, dear Rowland," said Roderick; "don't advise! +That 's no use now." + +The dusk meanwhile had thickened, and they had not perceived +a figure approaching them across the open space in front +of the house. Suddenly it stepped into the circle +of light projected from the door and windows, and they +beheld little Sam Singleton stopping to stare at them. +He was the giant whom they had seen descending along the rocks. +When this was made apparent Roderick was seized with a fit +of intense hilarity--it was the first time he had laughed +in three months. Singleton, who carried a knapsack and +walking-staff, received from Rowland the friendliest welcome. +He was in the serenest possible humor, and if in the way +of luggage his knapsack contained nothing but a comb and a +second shirt, he produced from it a dozen admirable sketches. +He had been trudging over half Switzerland and making everywhere +the most vivid pictorial notes. They were mostly in a box +at Interlaken, and in gratitude for Rowland's appreciation, +he presently telegraphed for his box, which, according to +the excellent Swiss method, was punctually delivered by post. +The nights were cold, and our friends, with three or four +other chance sojourners, sat in-doors over a fire of logs. +Even with Roderick sitting moodily in the outer shadow they +made a sympathetic little circle, and they turned over +Singleton's drawings, while he perched in the chimney-corner, +blushing and grinning, with his feet on the rounds of his chair. +He had been pedestrianizing for six weeks, and he was glad +to rest awhile at Engelthal. It was an economic repose, +however, for he sallied forth every morning, with his sketching +tools on his back, in search of material for new studies. +Roderick's hilarity, after the first evening, had subsided, +and he watched the little painter's serene activity with a +gravity that was almost portentous. Singleton, who was not +in the secret of his personal misfortunes, still treated him +with timid frankness as the rising star of American art. +Roderick had said to Rowland, at first, that Singleton +reminded him of some curious little insect with a remarkable +mechanical instinct in its antennae; but as the days went +by it was apparent that the modest landscapist's unflagging +industry grew to have an oppressive meaning for him. +It pointed a moral, and Roderick used to sit and con the moral +as he saw it figured in Singleton's bent back, on the hot +hill-sides, protruding from beneath his white umbrella. +One day he wandered up a long slope and overtook him as he sat +at work; Singleton related the incident afterwards to Rowland, +who, after giving him in Rome a hint of Roderick's aberrations, +had strictly kept his own counsel. + +"Are you always like this?" said Roderick, in almost sepulchral accents. + +"Like this?" repeated Singleton, blinking confusedly, +with an alarmed conscience. + +"You remind me of a watch that never runs down. +If one listens hard one hears you always--tic-tic, tic-tic." + +"Oh, I see," said Singleton, beaming ingenuously. +"I am very equable." + +"You are very equable, yes. And do you find it pleasant to be equable?" + +Singleton turned and grinned more brightly, while he sucked +the water from his camel's-hair brush. Then, with a quickened +sense of his indebtedness to a Providence that had endowed him +with intrinsic facilities, "Oh, delightful!" he exclaimed. + +Roderick stood looking at him a moment. "Damnation!" he said +at last, solemnly, and turned his back. + +One morning, shortly after this, Rowland and Roderick took a long walk. +They had walked before in a dozen different directions, but they +had not yet crossed a charming little wooded pass, which shut in +their valley on one side and descended into the vale of Engelberg. +In coming from Lucerne they had approached their inn by this path, +and, feeling that they knew it, had hitherto neglected it in favor +of untrodden ways. But at last the list of these was exhausted, +and Rowland proposed the walk to Engelberg as a novelty. +The place is half bleak and half pastoral; a huge white monastery +rises abruptly from the green floor of the valley and complicates +its picturesqueness with an element rare in Swiss scenery. +Hard by is a group of chalets and inns, with the usual appurtenances +of a prosperous Swiss resort--lean brown guides in baggy homespun, +lounging under carved wooden galleries, stacks of alpenstocks +in every doorway, sun-scorched Englishmen without shirt-collars. +Our two friends sat a while at the door of an inn, discussing a +pint of wine, and then Roderick, who was indefatigable, +announced his intention of climbing to a certain rocky pinnacle +which overhung the valley, and, according to the testimony +of one of the guides, commanded a view of the Lake of Lucerne. +To go and come back was only a matter of an hour, but Rowland, +with the prospect of his homeward trudge before him, +confessed to a preference for lounging on his bench, or at most +strolling a trifle farther and taking a look at the monastery. +Roderick went off alone, and his companion after a while bent +his steps to the monasterial church. It was remarkable, like most +of the churches of Catholic Switzerland, for a hideous style of +devotional ornament; but it had a certain cold and musty picturesqueness, +and Rowland lingered there with some tenderness for Alpine piety. +While he was near the high-altar some people came in at the west door; +but he did not notice them, and was presently engaged in deciphering +a curious old German epitaph on one of the mural tablets. +At last he turned away, wondering whether its syntax or its theology +was the more uncomfortable, and, to this infinite surprise, +found himself confronted with the Prince and Princess Casamassima. + +The surprise on Christina's part, for an instant, was equal, and at first she +seemed disposed to turn away without letting it give place to a greeting. +The prince, however, saluted gravely, and then Christina, in silence, +put out her hand. Rowland immediately asked whether they were staying +at Engelberg, but Christina only looked at him without speaking. +The prince answered his questions, and related that they had been +making a month's tour in Switzerland, that at Lucerne his wife had been +somewhat obstinately indisposed, and that the physician had recommended +a week's trial of the tonic air and goat's milk of Engelberg. +The scenery, said the prince, was stupendous, but the life was terribly sad-- +and they had three days more! It was a blessing, he urbanely added, +to see a good Roman face. + +Christina's attitude, her solemn silence and her penetrating gaze +seemed to Rowland, at first, to savor of affectation; but he presently +perceived that she was profoundly agitated, and that she was afraid +of betraying herself. "Do let us leave this hideous edifice," +she said; "there are things here that set one's teeth on edge." +They moved slowly to the door, and when they stood outside, +in the sunny coolness of the valley, she turned to Rowland and said, +"I am extremely glad to see you." Then she glanced about her +and observed, against the wall of the church, an old stone seat. +She looked at Prince Casamassima a moment, and he smiled +more intensely, Rowland thought, than the occasion demanded. +"I wish to sit here," she said, "and speak to Mr. Mallet--alone." + +"At your pleasure, dear friend," said the prince. + +The tone of each was measured, to Rowland's ear; but that of +Christina was dry, and that of her husband was splendidly urbane. +Rowland remembered that the Cavaliere Giacosa had told +him that Mrs. Light's candidate was thoroughly a prince, +and our friend wondered how he relished a peremptory accent. +Casamassima was an Italian of the undemonstrative type, but Rowland +nevertheless divined that, like other princes before him, +he had made the acquaintance of the thing called compromise. +"Shall I come back?" he asked with the same smile. + +"In half an hour," said Christina. + +In the clear outer light, Rowland's first impression of her was +that she was more beautiful than ever. And yet in three months she +could hardly have changed; the change was in Rowland's own vision +of her, which that last interview, on the eve of her marriage, +had made unprecedentedly tender. + +"How came you here?" she asked. "Are you staying in this place?" + +"I am staying at Engelthal, some ten miles away; I walked over." + +"Are you alone?" + +"I am with Mr. Hudson." + +"Is he here with you?" + +"He went half an hour ago to climb a rock for a view." + +"And his mother and that young girl, where are they?" + +"They also are at Engelthal." + +"What do you do there?" + +"What do you do here?" said Rowland, smiling. + +"I count the minutes till my week is up. I hate mountains; +they depress me to death. I am sure Miss Garland likes them." + +"She is very fond of them, I believe." + +"You believe--don't you know? But I have given up trying to imitate +Miss Garland," said Christina. + +"You surely need imitate no one." + +"Don't say that," she said gravely. "So you have walked ten +miles this morning? And you are to walk back again?" + +"Back again to supper." + +"And Mr. Hudson too?" + +"Mr. Hudson especially. He is a great walker." + +"You men are happy!" Christina cried. "I believe I +should enjoy the mountains if I could do such things. +It is sitting still and having them scowl down at you! +Prince Casamassina never rides. He only goes on a mule. +He was carried up the Faulhorn on a litter." + +"On a litter?" said Rowland. + +"In one of those machines--a chaise a porteurs--like a woman." + +Rowland received this information in silence; it was equally +unbecoming to either to relish or deprecate its irony. + +"Is Mr. Hudson to join you again? Will he come here?" Christina asked. + +"I shall soon begin to expect him." + +"What shall you do when you leave Switzerland?" Christina continued. +"Shall you go back to Rome?" + +"I rather doubt it. My plans are very uncertain." + +"They depend upon Mr. Hudson, eh?" + +"In a great measure." + +"I want you to tell me about him. Is he still in that perverse +state of mind that afflicted you so much?" + +Rowland looked at her mistrustfully, without answering. +He was indisposed, instinctively, to tell her that Roderick was unhappy; +it was possible she might offer to help him back to happiness. +She immediately perceived his hesitation. + +"I see no reason why we should not be frank," she said. +"I should think we were excellently placed for that sort of thing. +You remember that formerly I cared very little what I said, +don't you? Well, I care absolutely not at all now. +I say what I please, I do what I please! How did Mr. Hudson +receive the news of my marriage?" + +"Very badly," said Rowland. + +"With rage and reproaches?" And as Rowland hesitated +again--"With silent contempt?" + +"I can tell you but little. He spoke to me on the subject, +but I stopped him. I told him it was none of his business, +or of mine." + +"That was an excellent answer!" said Christina, softly. "Yet it was a +little your business, after those sublime protestations I treated you to. +I was really very fine that morning, eh?" + +"You do yourself injustice," said Rowland. "I should be at liberty +now to believe you were insincere." + +"What does it matter now whether I was insincere or not? +I can't conceive of anything mattering less. I was very fine-- +is n't it true?" + +"You know what I think of you," said Rowland. +And for fear of being forced to betray his suspicion of +the cause of her change, he took refuge in a commonplace. +"Your mother, I hope, is well." + +"My mother is in the enjoyment of superb health, and may be +seen every evening at the Casino, at the Baths of Lucca, +confiding to every new-comer that she has married her daughter +to a pearl of a prince." + +Rowland was anxious for news of Mrs. Light's companion, +and the natural course was frankly to inquire about him. +"And the Cavaliere Giacosa is well?" he asked. + +Christina hesitated, but she betrayed no other embarrassment. +"The Cavaliere has retired to his native city of Ancona, +upon a pension, for the rest of his natural life. +He is a very good old man!" + +"I have a great regard for him," said Rowland, gravely, at the same time +that he privately wondered whether the Cavaliere's pension was paid by +Prince Casamassima for services rendered in connection with his marriage. +Had the Cavaliere received his commission? "And what do you do," +Rowland continued, "on leaving this place?" + +"We go to Italy--we go to Naples." She rose and stood silent +a moment, looking down the valley. The figure of Prince Casamassima +appeared in the distance, balancing his white umbrella. +As her eyes rested upon it, Rowland imagined that he saw +something deeper in the strange expression which had lurked +in her face while he talked to her. At first he had been dazzled +by her blooming beauty, to which the lapse of weeks had only +added splendor; then he had seen a heavier ray in the light +of her eye--a sinister intimation of sadness and bitterness. +It was the outward mark of her sacrificed ideal. +Her eyes grew cold as she looked at her husband, and when, +after a moment, she turned them upon Rowland, they struck him +as intensely tragical. He felt a singular mixture of sympathy +and dread; he wished to give her a proof of friendship, +and yet it seemed to him that she had now turned her face +in a direction where friendship was impotent to interpose. +She half read his feelings, apparently, and she gave a beautiful, +sad smile. "I hope we may never meet again!" she said. +And as Rowland gave her a protesting look--"You have seen me +at my best. I wish to tell you solemnly, I was sincere! +I know appearances are against me," she went on quickly. +"There is a great deal I can't tell you. Perhaps you have guessed it; +I care very little. You know, at any rate, I did my best. +It would n't serve; I was beaten and broken; they were stronger +than I. Now it 's another affair!" + +"It seems to me you have a large chance for happiness yet," +said Rowland, vaguely. + +"Happiness? I mean to cultivate rapture; I mean to go in for +bliss ineffable! You remember I told you that I was, in part, +the world's and the devil's. Now they have taken me all. +It was their choice; may they never repent!" + +"I shall hear of you," said Rowland. + +"You will hear of me. And whatever you do hear, remember this: +I was sincere!" + +Prince Casamassima had approached, and Rowland looked at him +with a good deal of simple compassion as a part of that "world" +against which Christina had launched her mysterious menace. +It was obvious that he was a good fellow, and that he could not, +in the nature of things, be a positively bad husband; +but his distinguished inoffensiveness only deepened +the infelicity of Christina's situation by depriving her +defiant attitude of the sanction of relative justice. +So long as she had been free to choose, she had esteemed him: +but from the moment she was forced to marry him she had detested him. +Rowland read in the young man's elastic Italian mask a profound +consciousness of all this; and as he found there also a record +of other curious things--of pride, of temper, of bigotry, +of an immense heritage of more or less aggressive traditions-- +he reflected that the matrimonial conjunction of his two +companions might be sufficiently prolific in incident. + +"You are going to Naples?" Rowland said to the prince by way of conversation. + +"We are going to Paris," Christina interposed, slowly and softly. +"We are going to London. We are going to Vienna. +We are going to St. Petersburg." + +Prince Casamassima dropped his eyes and fretted the earth with the point +of his umbrella. While he engaged Rowland's attention Christina turned away. +When Rowland glanced at her again he saw a change pass over her face; +she was observing something that was concealed from his own eyes by the angle +of the church-wall. In a moment Roderick stepped into sight. + +He stopped short, astonished; his face and figure were jaded, +his garments dusty. He looked at Christina from head to foot, +and then, slowly, his cheek flushed and his eye expanded. +Christina returned his gaze, and for some moments +there was a singular silence. "You don't look well!" +Christina said at last. + +Roderick answered nothing; he only looked and looked, +as if she had been a statue. "You are no less beautiful!" +he presently cried. + +She turned away with a smile, and stood a while gazing +down the valley; Roderick stared at Prince Casamassima. +Christina then put out her hand to Rowland. "Farewell," she said. +"If you are near me in future, don't try to see me!" +And then, after a pause, in a lower tone, "I was sincere!" +She addressed herself again to Roderick and asked him some commonplace +about his walk. But he said nothing; he only looked at her. +Rowland at first had expected an outbreak of reproach, but it +was evident that the danger was every moment diminishing. +He was forgetting everything but her beauty, and as she stood there +and let him feast upon it, Rowland was sure that she knew it. +"I won't say farewell to you," she said; "we shall meet again!" +And she moved gravely away. Prince Casamassima took leave +courteously of Rowland; upon Roderick he bestowed a bow +of exaggerated civility. Roderick appeared not to see it; +he was still watching Christina, as she passed over the grass. +His eyes followed her until she reached the door of her inn. +Here she stopped and looked back at him. + + + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. Switzerland + +On the homeward walk, that evening, Roderick preserved +a silence which Rowland allowed to make him uneasy. +Early on the morrow Roderick, saying nothing of his intentions, +started off on a walk; Rowland saw him striding with light +steps along the rugged path to Engelberg. He was absent +all day and he gave no account of himself on his return. +He said he was deadly tired, and he went to bed early. +When he had left the room Miss Garland drew near to Rowland. + +"I wish to ask you a question," she said. "What happened to Roderick +yesterday at Engelberg?" + +"You have discovered that something happened?" Rowland answered. + +"I am sure of it. Was it something painful?" + +"I don't know how, at the present moment, he judges it. +He met the Princess Casamassima." + +"Thank you!" said Miss Garland, simply, and turned away. + +The conversation had been brief, but, like many small things, +it furnished Rowland with food for reflection. +When one is looking for symptoms one easily finds them. +This was the first time Mary Garland had asked Rowland +a question which it was in Roderick's power to answer, +the first time she had frankly betrayed Roderick's reticence. +Rowland ventured to think it marked an era. + +The next morning was sultry, and the air, usually so fresh at +those altitudes, was oppressively heavy. Rowland lounged on the grass +a while, near Singleton, who was at work under his white umbrella, +within view of the house; and then in quest of coolness he wandered +away to the rocky ridge whence you looked across at the Jungfrau. +To-day, however, the white summits were invisible; their heads were muffled +in sullen clouds and the valleys beneath them curtained in dun-colored mist. +Rowland had a book in his pocket, and he took it out and opened it. +But his page remained unturned; his own thoughts were more importunate. +His interview with Christina Light had made a great impression upon him, +and he was haunted with the memory of her almost blameless bitterness, +and of all that was tragic and fatal in her latest transformation. +These things were immensely appealing, and Rowland thought with +infinite impatience of Roderick's having again encountered them. +It required little imagination to apprehend that the young sculptor's +condition had also appealed to Christina. His consummate indifference, +his supreme defiance, would make him a magnificent trophy, and Christina +had announced with sufficient distinctness that she had said good-by +to scruples. It was her fancy at present to treat the world as a +garden of pleasure, and if, hitherto, she had played with Roderick's +passion on its stem, there was little doubt that now she would pluck +it with an unfaltering hand and drain it of its acrid sweetness. +And why the deuce need Roderick have gone marching back to destruction? +Rowland's meditations, even when they began in rancor, often brought +him peace; but on this occasion they ushered in a quite peculiar quality +of unrest. He felt conscious of a sudden collapse in his moral energy; +a current that had been flowing for two years with liquid strength +seemed at last to pause and evaporate. Rowland looked away at +the stagnant vapors on the mountains; their dreariness seemed a symbol +of the dreariness which his own generosity had bequeathed him. +At last he had arrived at the uttermost limit of the deference +a sane man might pay to other people's folly; nay, rather, he had +transgressed it; he had been befooled on a gigantic scale. +He turned to his book and tried to woo back patience, but it gave him cold +comfort and he tossed it angrily away. He pulled his hat over his eyes, +and tried to wonder, dispassionately, whether atmospheric conditions +had not something to do with his ill-humor. He remained for some time +in this attitude, but was finally aroused from it by a singular +sense that, although he had heard nothing, some one had approached him. +He looked up and saw Roderick standing before him on the turf. +His mood made the spectacle unwelcome, and for a moment he felt like uttering +an uncivil speech. Roderick stood looking at him with an expression +of countenance which had of late become rare. There was an unfamiliar +spark in his eye and a certain imperious alertness in his carriage. +Confirmed habit, with Rowland, came speedily to the front. +"What is it now?" he asked himself, and invited Roderick to sit down. +Roderick had evidently something particular to say, and if he remained +silent for a time it was not because he was ashamed of it. + +"I would like you to do me a favor," he said at last. +"Lend me some money." + +"How much do you wish?" Rowland asked. + +"Say a thousand francs." + +Rowland hesitated a moment. "I don't wish to be indiscreet, +but may I ask what you propose to do with a thousand francs?" + +"To go to Interlaken." + +"And why are you going to Interlaken?" + +Roderick replied without a shadow of wavering, "Because that woman +is to be there." + +Rowland burst out laughing, but Roderick remained serenely grave. +"You have forgiven her, then?" said Rowland. + +"Not a bit of it!" + +"I don't understand." + +"Neither do I. I only know that she is incomparably beautiful, +and that she has waked me up amazingly. Besides, she asked +me to come." + +"She asked you?" + +"Yesterday, in so many words." + +"Ah, the jade!" + +"Exactly. I am willing to take her for that." + +"Why in the name of common sense did you go back to her?" + +"Why did I find her standing there like a goddess who had +just stepped out of her cloud? Why did I look at her? +Before I knew where I was, the harm was done." + +Rowland, who had been sitting erect, threw himself back +on the grass and lay for some time staring up at the sky. +At last, raising himself, "Are you perfectly serious?" he asked. + +"Deadly serious." + +"Your idea is to remain at Interlaken some time?" + +"Indefinitely!" said Roderick; and it seemed to his companion that the tone +in which he said this made it immensely well worth hearing. + +"And your mother and cousin, meanwhile, are to remain here? +It will soon be getting very cold, you know." + +"It does n't seem much like it to-day." + +"Very true; but to-day is a day by itself." + +"There is nothing to prevent their going back to Lucerne. +I depend upon your taking charge of them." + +At this Rowland reclined upon the grass again; and again, +after reflection, he faced his friend. "How would you express," +he asked, "the character of the profit that you expect to derive +from your excursion?" + +"I see no need of expressing it. The proof of the pudding is in the eating! +The case is simply this. I desire immensely to be near Christina Light, +and it is such a huge refreshment to find myself again desiring something, +that I propose to drift with the current. As I say, she has waked me up, +and it is possible something may come of it. She makes me feel as if I +were alive again. This," and he glanced down at the inn, "I call death!" + +"That I am very grateful to hear. You really feel as if you +might do something?" + +"Don't ask too much. I only know that she makes my heart beat, +makes me see visions." + +"You feel encouraged?" + +"I feel excited." + +"You are really looking better." + +"I am glad to hear it. Now that I have answered your questions, +please to give me the money." + +Rowland shook his head. "For that purpose, I can't!" + +"You can't?" + +"It 's impossible. Your plan is rank folly. I can't help you in it." + +Roderick flushed a little, and his eye expanded. "I will borrow +what money I can, then, from Mary!" This was not viciously said; +it had simply the ring of passionate resolution. + +Instantly it brought Rowland to terms. He took a bunch +of keys from his pocket and tossed it upon the grass. +"The little brass one opens my dressing-case," he said. +"You will find money in it." + +Roderick let the keys lie; something seemed to have struck him; +he looked askance at his friend. "You are awfully gallant!" + +"You certainly are not. Your proposal is an outrage." + +"Very likely. It 's a proof the more of my desire." + +"If you have so much steam on, then, use it for something else. +You say you are awake again. I am delighted; only be so in +the best sense. Is n't it very plain? If you have the energy +to desire, you have also the energy to reason and to judge. +If you can care to go, you can also care to stay, and staying +being the more profitable course, the inspiration, on that side, +for a man who has his self-confidence to win back again, +should be greater." + +Roderick, plainly, did not relish this simple logic, +and his eye grew angry as he listened to its echo. +"Oh, the devil!" he cried. + +Rowland went on. "Do you believe that hanging about Christina +Light will do you any good? Do you believe it won't? In either +case you should keep away from her. If it won't, it 's your duty; +and if it will, you can get on without it." + +"Do me good?" cried Roderick. "What do I want of 'good'-- +what should I do with 'good'? I want what she gives me, +call it by what name you will. I want to ask no questions, +but to take what comes and let it fill the impossible hours! +But I did n't come to discuss the matter." + +"I have not the least desire to discuss it," said Rowland. +"I simply protest." + +Roderick meditated a moment. "I have never yet thought twice of accepting +a favor of you," he said at last; "but this one sticks in my throat." + +"It is not a favor; I lend you the money only under compulsion." + +"Well, then, I will take it only under compulsion!" Roderick exclaimed. +And he sprang up abruptly and marched away. + +His words were ambiguous; Rowland lay on the grass, wondering what +they meant. Half an hour had not elapsed before Roderick reappeared, +heated with rapid walking, and wiping his forehead. He flung himself +down and looked at his friend with an eye which expressed something +purer than bravado and yet baser than conviction. + +"I have done my best!" he said. "My mother is out of money; +she is expecting next week some circular notes from London. +She had only ten francs in her pocket. Mary Garland gave me every sou +she possessed in the world. It makes exactly thirty-four francs. +That 's not enough." + +"You asked Miss Garland?" cried Rowland. + +"I asked her." + +"And told her your purpose?" + +"I named no names. But she knew!" + +"What did she say?" + +"Not a syllable. She simply emptied her purse." + +Rowland turned over and buried his face in his arms. +He felt a movement of irrepressible elation, and he barely +stifled a cry of joy. Now, surely, Roderick had shattered +the last link in the chain that bound Mary to him, and after +this she would be free!.... When he turned about again, +Roderick was still sitting there, and he had not touched +the keys which lay on the grass. + +"I don't know what is the matter with me," said Roderick, +"but I have an insurmountable aversion to taking your money." + +"The matter, I suppose, is that you have a grain of wisdom left." + +"No, it 's not that. It 's a kind of brute instinct. +I find it extremely provoking!" He sat there for some time +with his head in his hands and his eyes on the ground. +His lips were compressed, and he was evidently, in fact, +in a state of profound irritation. "You have succeeded +in making this thing excessively unpleasant!" he exclaimed. + +"I am sorry," said Rowland, "but I can't see it in any other way. +" + +"That I believe, and I resent the range of your vision pretending +to be the limit of my action. You can't feel for me nor judge +for me, and there are certain things you know nothing about. +I have suffered, sir!" Roderick went on with increasing emphasis. +"I have suffered damnable torments. Have I been such a placid, contented, +comfortable man this last six months, that when I find a chance +to forget my misery, I should take such pains not to profit by it? +You ask too much, for a man who himself has no occasion to play the hero. +I don't say that invidiously; it 's your disposition, and you can't help it. +But decidedly, there are certain things you know nothing about." + +Rowland listened to this outbreak with open eyes, and Roderick, +if he had been less intent upon his own eloquence, +would probably have perceived that he turned pale. +"These things--what are they?" Rowland asked. + +"They are women, principally, and what relates to women. +Women for you, by what I can make out, mean nothing. +You have no imagination--no sensibility!" + +"That 's a serious charge," said Rowland, gravely. + +"I don't make it without proof!" + +"And what is your proof?" + +Roderick hesitated a moment. "The way you treated Christina Light. +I call that grossly obtuse." + +"Obtuse?" Rowland repeated, frowning. + +"Thick-skinned, beneath your good fortune." + +"My good fortune?" + +"There it is--it 's all news to you! You had pleased her. +I don't say she was dying of love for you, but she took +a fancy to you." + +"We will let this pass!" said Rowland, after a silence. + +"Oh, I don't insist. I have only her own word for it." + +"She told you this?" + +"You noticed, at least, I suppose, that she was not afraid to speak. +I never repeated it, not because I was jealous, but because I was curious +to see how long your ignorance would last if left to itself." + +"I frankly confess it would have lasted forever. +And yet I don't consider that my insensibility is proved." + +"Oh, don't say that," cried Roderick, "or I shall begin to suspect-- +what I must do you the justice to say that I never have suspected-- +that you are a trifle conceited. Upon my word, when I +think of all this, your protest, as you call it, against my +following Christina Light seems to me thoroughly offensive. +There is something monstrous in a man's pretending to lay down +the law to a sort of emotion with which he is quite unacquainted-- +in his asking a fellow to give up a lovely woman for conscience' +sake, when he has never had the impulse to strike a blow for +one for passion's!" + +"Oh, oh!" cried Rowland. + +"All that 's very easy to say," Roderick went on; "but you must +remember that there are such things as nerves, and senses, +and imagination, and a restless demon within that may sleep +sometimes for a day, or for six months, but that sooner or later +wakes up and thumps at your ribs till you listen to him! +If you can't understand it, take it on trust, and let a poor +imaginative devil live his life as he can!" + +Roderick's words seemed at first to Rowland like something heard +in a dream; it was impossible they had been actually spoken-- +so supreme an expression were they of the insolence of egotism. +Reality was never so consistent as that! But Roderick sat there +balancing his beautiful head, and the echoes of his strident +accent still lingered along the half-muffled mountain-side. +Rowland suddenly felt that the cup of his chagrin was full +to overflowing, and his long-gathered bitterness surged into +the simple, wholesome passion of anger for wasted kindness. +But he spoke without violence, and Roderick was probably at +first far from measuring the force that lay beneath his words. + +"You are incredibly ungrateful," he said. "You are talking +arrogant nonsense. What do you know about my sensibilities and +my imagination? How do you know whether I have loved or suffered? +If I have held my tongue and not troubled you with my complaints, +you find it the most natural thing in the world to put an ignoble +construction on my silence. I loved quite as well as you; +indeed, I think I may say rather better. I have been constant. +I have been willing to give more than I received. +I have not forsaken one mistress because I thought another +more beautiful, nor given up the other and believed all +manner of evil about her because I had not my way with her. +I have been a good friend to Christina Light, and it seems to me +my friendship does her quite as much honor as your love!" + +"Your love--your suffering--your silence--your friendship!" cried Roderick. +"I declare I don't understand!" + +"I dare say not. You are not used to understanding such things-- +you are not used to hearing me talk of my feelings. +You are altogether too much taken up with your own. +Be as much so as you please; I have always respected your right. +Only when I have kept myself in durance on purpose to leave +you an open field, don't, by way of thanking me, come and call +me an idiot." + +"Oh, you claim then that you have made sacrifices?" + +"Several! You have never suspected it?" + +"If I had, do you suppose I would have allowed it?" cried Roderick. + +"They were the sacrifices of friendship and they were easily made; +only I don't enjoy having them thrown back in my teeth." + +This was, under the circumstances, a sufficiently generous speech; +but Roderick was not in the humor to take it generously. +"Come, be more definite," he said. "Let me know where it +is the shoe has pinched." + +Rowland frowned; if Roderick would not take generosity, +he should have full justice. "It 's a perpetual sacrifice," +he said, "to live with a perfect egotist." + +"I am an egotist?" cried Roderick. + +"Did it never occur to you?" + +"An egotist to whom you have made perpetual sacrifices?" +He repeated the words in a singular tone; a tone that denoted neither +exactly indignation nor incredulity, but (strange as it may seem) +a sudden violent curiosity for news about himself. + +"You are selfish," said Rowland; "you think only of yourself and believe only +in yourself. You regard other people only as they play into your own hands. +You have always been very frank about it, and the thing seemed so mixed +up with the temper of your genius and the very structure of your mind, +that often one was willing to take the evil with the good and to be +thankful that, considering your great talent, you were no worse. +But if one believed in you, as I have done, one paid a tax upon it." + +Roderick leaned his elbows on his knees, clasped his +hands together, and crossed them, shadewise, over his eyes. +In this attitude, for a moment, he sat looking coldly at his friend. +"So I have made you very uncomfortable?" he went on. + +"Extremely so." + +"I have been eager, grasping, obstinate, vain, ungrateful, +indifferent, cruel?" + +"I have accused you, mentally, of all these things, +with the exception of vanity." + +"You have often hated me?" + +"Never. I should have parted company with you before coming to that." + +"But you have wanted to part company, to bid me go my way and be hanged!" + +"Repeatedly. Then I have had patience and forgiven you." + +"Forgiven me, eh? Suffering all the while?" + +"Yes, you may call it suffering." + +"Why did you never tell me all this before?" + +"Because my affection was always stronger than my resentment; +because I preferred to err on the side of kindness; +because I had, myself, in a measure, launched you in the world +and thrown you into temptations; and because nothing short +of your unwarrantable aggression just now could have made me +say these painful things." + +Roderick picked up a blade of long grass and began to bite it; +Rowland was puzzled by his expression and manner. +They seemed strangely cynical; there was something revolting +in his deepening calmness. "I must have been hideous," +Roderick presently resumed. + +"I am not talking for your entertainment," said Rowland. + +"Of course not. For my edification!" As Roderick said these words +there was not a ray of warmth in his brilliant eye. + +"I have spoken for my own relief," Rowland went on, "and so that you need +never again go so utterly astray as you have done this morning. " + +"It has been a terrible mistake, then?" What his tone +expressed was not willful mockery, but a kind of persistent +irresponsibility which Rowland found equally exasperating. +He answered nothing. + +"And all this time," Roderick continued, "you have been in love? +Tell me the woman." + +Rowland felt an immense desire to give him a visible, palpable pang. +"Her name is Mary Garland," he said. + +Apparently he succeeded. The surprise was great; +Roderick colored as he had never done. "Mary Garland? +Heaven forgive us!" + +Rowland observed the "us;" Roderick threw himself back on the turf. +The latter lay for some time staring at the sky. At last he sprang to +his feet, and Rowland rose also, rejoicing keenly, it must be confessed, +in his companion's confusion. + +"For how long has this been?" Roderick demanded. + +"Since I first knew her." + +"Two years! And you have never told her?" + +"Never." + +"You have told no one?" + +"You are the first person." + +"Why have you been silent?" + +"Because of your engagement." + +"But you have done your best to keep that up." + +"That 's another matter!" + +"It 's very strange!" said Roderick, presently. "It 's like something +in a novel." + +"We need n't expatiate on it," said Rowland. "All I wished +to do was to rebut your charge that I am an abnormal being." + +But still Roderick pondered. "All these months, while I was going on! +I wish you had mentioned it." + +"I acted as was necessary, and that 's the end of it." + +"You have a very high opinion of her?" + +"The highest." + +"I remember now your occasionally expressing it and my being +struck with it. But I never dreamed you were in love with her. +It 's a pity she does n't care for you!" + +Rowland had made his point and he had no wish to prolong the conversation; +but he had a desire to hear more of this, and he remained silent. + +"You hope, I suppose, that some day she may?" + +"I should n't have offered to say so; but since you ask me, I do." + +"I don't believe it. She idolizes me, and if she never were to see +me again she would idolize my memory." + +This might be profound insight, and it might be profound fatuity. +Rowland turned away; he could not trust himself to speak. + +"My indifference, my neglect of her, must have seemed to you horrible. +Altogether, I must have appeared simply hideous." + +"Do you really care," Rowland asked, "what you appeared?" + +"Certainly. I have been damnably stupid. Is n't an artist supposed +to be a man of perceptions? I am hugely disgusted." + +"Well, you understand now, and we can start afresh." + +"And yet," said Roderick, "though you have suffered, in a degree, +I don't believe you have suffered so much as some other men +would have done." + +"Very likely not. In such matters quantitative analysis is difficult." + +Roderick picked up his stick and stood looking at the ground. +"Nevertheless, I must have seemed hideous," he repeated--"hideous." +He turned away, scowling, and Rowland offered no contradiction. + +They were both silent for some time, and at last Roderick gave +a heavy sigh and began to walk away. "Where are you going?" +Rowland then asked. + +"Oh, I don't care! To walk; you have given me something to think of." +This seemed a salutary impulse, and yet Rowland felt a nameless perplexity. +"To have been so stupid damns me more than anything!" Roderick went on. +"Certainly, I can shut up shop now." + +Rowland felt in no smiling humor, and yet, in spite of himself, +he could almost have smiled at the very consistency of the fellow. +It was egotism still: aesthetic disgust at the graceless contour of +his conduct, but never a hint of simple sorrow for the pain he had given. +Rowland let him go, and for some moments stood watching him. +Suddenly Mallet became conscious of a singular and most +illogical impulse--a desire to stop him, to have another word with him-- +not to lose sight of him. He called him and Roderick turned. +"I should like to go with you," said Rowland. + +"I am fit only to be alone. I am damned!" + +"You had better not think of it at all," Rowland cried, +"than think in that way." + +"There is only one way. I have been hideous!" And he broke off +and marched away with his long, elastic step, swinging his stick. +Rowland watched him and at the end of a moment called to him. +Roderick stopped and looked at him in silence, and then abruptly turned, +and disappeared below the crest of a hill. + +Rowland passed the remainder of the day uncomfortably. He was +half irritated, half depressed; he had an insufferable feeling of having +been placed in the wrong, in spite of his excellent cause. Roderick did +not come home to dinner; but of this, with his passion for brooding +away the hours on far-off mountain sides, he had almost made a habit. +Mrs. Hudson appeared at the noonday repast with a face which showed that +Roderick's demand for money had unsealed the fountains of her distress. +Little Singleton consumed an enormous and well-earned dinner. +Miss Garland, Rowland observed, had not contributed her scanty assistance +to her kinsman's pursuit of the Princess Casamassima without an effort. +The effort was visible in her pale face and her silence; she looked so ill +that when they left the table Rowland felt almost bound to remark upon it. +They had come out upon the grass in front of the inn. + +"I have a headache," she said. And then suddenly, looking about at +the menacing sky and motionless air, "It 's this horrible day!" + +Rowland that afternoon tried to write a letter to his cousin Cecilia, +but his head and his heart were alike heavy, and he traced upon +the paper but a single line. "I believe there is such a thing as being +too reasonable. But when once the habit is formed, what is one to do?" +He had occasion to use his keys and he felt for them in his pocket; +they were missing, and he remembered that he had left them +lying on the hill-top where he had had his talk with Roderick. +He went forth in search of them and found them where he had thrown them. +He flung himself down in the same place again; he felt indisposed to walk. +He was conscious that his mood had vastly changed since the morning; +his extraordinary, acute sense of his rights had been replaced +by the familiar, chronic sense of his duties. Only, his duties now +seemed impracticable; he turned over and buried his face in his arms. +He lay so a long time, thinking of many things; the sum of them all was that +Roderick had beaten him. At last he was startled by an extraordinary sound; +it took him a moment to perceive that it was a portentous growl of thunder. +He roused himself and saw that the whole face of the sky had altered. +The clouds that had hung motionless all day were moving from +their stations, and getting into position, as it were, for a battle. +The wind was rising; the sallow vapors were turning dark and consolidating +their masses. It was a striking spectacle, but Rowland judged +best to observe it briefly, as a storm was evidently imminent. +He took his way down to the inn and found Singleton still at his post, +profiting by the last of the rapidly-failing light to finish his study, +and yet at the same time taking rapid notes of the actual condition +of the clouds. + +"We are going to have a most interesting storm," the little painter +gleefully cried. "I should like awfully to do it." + +Rowland adjured him to pack up his tools and decamp, and repaired +to the house. The air by this time had become portentously dark, +and the thunder was incessant and tremendous; in the midst of it the +lightning flashed and vanished, like the treble shrilling upon the bass. +The innkeeper and his servants had crowded to the doorway, and were looking +at the scene with faces which seemed a proof that it was unprecedented. +As Rowland approached, the group divided, to let some one pass from within, +and Mrs. Hudson came forth, as white as a corpse and trembling in every limb. + +"My boy, my boy, where is my boy?" she cried. "Mr. Mallet, +why are you here without him? Bring him to me!" + +"Has no one seen Mr. Hudson?" Rowland asked of the others. +"Has he not returned?" + +Each one shook his head and looked grave, and Rowland attempted to reassure +Mrs. Hudson by saying that of course he had taken refuge in a chalet. + +"Go and find him, go and find him!" she cried, insanely. +"Don't stand there and talk, or I shall die!" It was now as dark +as evening, and Rowland could just distinguish the figure of Singleton +scampering homeward with his box and easel. "And where is Mary?" +Mrs. Hudson went on; "what in mercy's name has become of her? +Mr. Mallet, why did you ever bring us here?" + +There came a prodigious flash of lightning, and the limitless +tumult about them turned clearer than midsummer noonday. +The brightness lasted long enough to enable Rowland to see +a woman's figure on the top of an eminence near the house. +It was Mary Garland, questioning the lurid darkness for Roderick. +Rowland sprang out to interrupt her vigil, but in a moment +he encountered her, retreating. He seized her hand and hurried her +to the house, where, as soon as she stepped into the covered gallery, +Mrs. Hudson fell upon her with frantic lamentations. + +"Did you see nothing,--nothing?" she cried. "Tell Mr. Mallet he must go +and find him, with some men, some lights, some wrappings. Go, go, go, sir! +In mercy, go!" + +Rowland was extremely perturbed by the poor lady's +vociferous folly, for he deemed her anxiety superfluous. +He had offered his suggestion with sincerity; nothing was more +probable than that Roderick had found shelter in a herdsman's cabin. +These were numerous on the neighboring mountains, and the storm +had given fair warning of its approach. Miss Garland stood +there very pale, saying nothing, but looking at him. +He expected that she would check her cousin's importunity. +"Could you find him?" she suddenly asked. "Would it be of use?" + +The question seemed to him a flash intenser than the lightning that was raking +the sky before them. It shattered his dream that he weighed in the scale! +But before he could answer, the full fury of the storm was upon them; +the rain descended in sounding torrents. Every one fell back into the house. +There had been no time to light lamps, and in the little uncarpeted parlor, +in the unnatural darkness, Rowland felt Mary's hand upon his arm. +For a moment it had an eloquent pressure; it seemed to retract her senseless +challenge, and to say that she believed, for Roderick, what he believed. +But nevertheless, thought Rowland, the cry had come, her heart had spoken; +her first impulse had been to sacrifice him. He had been uncertain before; +here, at least, was the comfort of certainty! + +It must be confessed, however, that the certainty in question +did little to enliven the gloom of that formidable evening. +There was a noisy crowd about him in the room--noisy even +with the accompaniment of the continual thunder-peals; +lodgers and servants, chattering, shuffling, and bustling, +and annoying him equally by making too light of the tempest +and by vociferating their alarm. In the disorder, it was some +time before a lamp was lighted, and the first thing he saw, +as it was swung from the ceiling, was the white face of Mrs. Hudson, +who was being carried out of the room in a swoon by two +stout maid-servants, with Mary Garland forcing a passage. +He rendered what help he could, but when they had laid the poor +woman on her bed, Miss Garland motioned him away. + +"I think you make her worse," she said. + +Rowland went to his own chamber. The partitions in Swiss +mountain-inns are thin, and from time to time he heard +Mrs. Hudson moaning, three rooms off. Considering its great fury, +the storm took long to expend itself; it was upwards of three +hours before the thunder ceased. But even then the rain +continued to fall heavily, and the night, which had come on, +was impenetrably black. This lasted till near midnight. +Rowland thought of Mary Garland's challenge in the porch, +but he thought even more that, although the fetid interior +of a high-nestling chalet may offer a convenient refuge +from an Alpine tempest, there was no possible music in +the universe so sweet as the sound of Roderick's voice. +At midnight, through his dripping window-pane, he saw a star, +and he immediately went downstairs and out into the gallery. +The rain had ceased, the cloud-masses were dissevered here +and there, and several stars were visible. In a few minutes +he heard a step behind him, and, turning, saw Miss Garland. +He asked about Mrs. Hudson and learned that she was sleeping, +exhausted by her fruitless lamentations. Miss Garland kept +scanning the darkness, but she said nothing to cast doubt +on Roderick's having found a refuge. Rowland noticed it. +"This also have I guaranteed!" he said to himself. +There was something that Mary wished to learn, and a question +presently revealed it. + +"What made him start on a long walk so suddenly?" she asked. +"I saw him at eleven o'clock, and then he meant to go +to Engelberg, and sleep." + +"On his way to Interlaken?" Rowland said. + +"Yes," she answered, under cover of the darkness. + +"We had some talk," said Rowland, "and he seemed, for the day, +to have given up Interlaken." + +"Did you dissuade him?" + +"Not exactly. We discussed another question, which, for the time, +superseded his plan." + +Miss Garland was silent. Then--"May I ask whether your discussion +was violent?" she said. + +"I am afraid it was agreeable to neither of us." + +"And Roderick left you in--in irritation?" + +"I offered him my company on his walk. He declined it." + +Miss Garland paced slowly to the end of the gallery and then came back. +"If he had gone to Engelberg," she said, "he would have reached the hotel +before the storm began." + +Rowland felt a sudden explosion of ferocity. "Oh, if you like," +he cried, "he can start for Interlaken as soon as he comes back!" + +But she did not even notice his wrath. "Will he come back early?" +she went on. + +"We may suppose so." + +"He will know how anxious we are, and he will start with the first light!" + +Rowland was on the point of declaring that Roderick's readiness to throw +himself into the feelings of others made this extremely probable; +but he checked himself and said, simply, "I expect him at sunrise." + +Miss Garland bent her eyes once more upon the irresponsive darkness, +and then, in silence, went into the house. Rowland, it must +be averred, in spite of his resolution not to be nervous, +found no sleep that night. When the early dawn began to +tremble in the east, he came forth again into the open air. +The storm had completely purged the atmosphere, and the day gave +promise of cloudless splendor. Rowland watched the early sun-shafts +slowly reaching higher, and remembered that if Roderick did not come +back to breakfast, there were two things to be taken into account. +One was the heaviness of the soil on the mountain-sides, +saturated with the rain; this would make him walk slowly: +the other was the fact that, speaking without irony, he was not +remarkable for throwing himself into the sentiments of others. +Breakfast, at the inn, was early, and by breakfast-time Roderick +had not appeared. Then Rowland admitted that he was nervous. +Neither Mrs. Hudson nor Miss Garland had left their apartment; +Rowland had a mental vision of them sitting there praying and listening; +he had no desire to see them more directly. There were a couple +of men who hung about the inn as guides for the ascent of the Titlis; +Rowland sent each of them forth in a different direction, to ask +the news of Roderick at every ch; afalet door within a morning's walk. +Then he called Sam Singleton, whose peregrinations had made +him an excellent mountaineer, and whose zeal and sympathy were +now unbounded, and the two started together on a voyage of research. +By the time they had lost sight of the inn, Rowland was obliged +to confess that, decidedly, Roderick had had time to come back. + +He wandered about for several hours, but he found only the sunny +stillness of the mountain-sides. Before long he parted company +with Singleton, who, to his suggestion that separation would multiply +their resources, assented with a silent, frightened look which reflected +too vividly his own rapidly-dawning thought. The day was magnificent; +the sun was everywhere; the storm had lashed the lower slopes into +a deeper flush of autumnal color, and the snow-peaks reared themselves +against the near horizon in glaring blocks and dazzling spires. +Rowland made his way to several chalets, but most of them were empty. +He thumped at their low, foul doors with a kind of nervous, savage anger; +he challenged the stupid silence to tell him something about his friend. +Some of these places had evidently not been open in months. +The silence everywhere was horrible; it seemed to mock at +his impatience and to be a conscious symbol of calamity. +In the midst of it, at the door of one of the chalets, quite alone, +sat a hideous cretin, who grinned at Rowland over his goitre when, +hardly knowing what he did, he questioned him. The creature's family +was scattered on the mountain-sides; he could give Rowland no help +to find them. Rowland climbed into many awkward places, and skirted, +intently and peeringly, many an ugly chasm and steep-dropping ledge. +But the sun, as I have said, was everywhere; it illumined the deep places +over which, not knowing where to turn next, he halted and lingered, +and showed him nothing but the stony Alpine void--nothing so human +even as death. At noon he paused in his quest and sat down on a stone; +the conviction was pressing upon him that the worst that was now +possible was true. He suspended his search; he was afraid to go on. +He sat there for an hour, sick to the depths of his soul. +Without his knowing why, several things, chiefly trivial, that had +happened during the last two years and that he had quite forgotten, +became vividly present to his mind. He was aroused at last by the sound +of a stone dislodged near by, which rattled down the mountain. +In a moment, on a steep, rocky slope opposite to him, he beheld +a figure cautiously descending--a figure which was not Roderick. +It was Singleton, who had seen him and began to beckon to him. + +"Come down--come down!" cried the painter, steadily making his own way down. +Rowland saw that as he moved, and even as he selected his foothold and +watched his steps, he was looking at something at the bottom of the cliff. +This was a great rugged wall which had fallen backward from the perpendicular, +and the descent, though difficult, was with care sufficiently practicable. + +"What do you see?" cried Rowland. + +Singleton stopped, looked across at him and seemed to hesitate; +then, "Come down--come down!" he simply repeated. + +Rowland's course was also a steep descent, and he attacked it so +precipitately that he afterwards marveled he had not broken his neck. +It was a ten minutes' headlong scramble. Half-way down he saw +something that made him dizzy; he saw what Singleton had seen. +In the gorge below them a vague white mass lay tumbled upon the stones. +He let himself go, blindly, fiercely. Singleton had reached the rocky +bottom of the ravine before him, and had bounded forward and fallen +upon his knees. Rowland overtook him and his own legs collapsed. +The thing that yesterday was his friend lay before him as the chance of +the last breath had left it, and out of it Roderick's face stared upward, +open-eyed, at the sky. + +He had fallen from a great height, but he was singularly little disfigured. +The rain had spent its torrents upon him, and his clothes and hair were +as wet as if the billows of the ocean had flung him upon the strand. +An attempt to move him would show some hideous fracture, +some horrible physical dishonor; but what Rowland saw on first +looking at him was only a strangely serene expression of life. +The eyes were dead, but in a short time, when Rowland had closed them, +the whole face seemed to awake. The rain had washed away all blood; +it was as if Violence, having done her work, had stolen away in shame. +Roderick's face might have shamed her; it looked admirably handsome. + +"He was a beautiful man!" said Singleton. + +They looked up through their horror at the cliff from which he had +apparently fallen, and which lifted its blank and stony face above him, +with no care now but to drink the sunshine on which his eyes were closed, +and then Rowland had an immense outbreak of pity and anguish. +At last they spoke of carrying him back to the inn. "There must be +three or four men," Rowland said, "and they must be brought here quickly. +I have not the least idea where we are." + +"We are at about three hours' walk from home," said Singleton. +"I will go for help; I can find my way." + +"Remember," said Rowland, "whom you will have to face." + +"I remember," the excellent fellow answered. "There was nothing +I could ever do for him in life; I will do what I can now." + +He went off, and Rowland stayed there alone. He watched +for seven long hours, and his vigil was forever memorable. +The most rational of men was for an hour the most passionate. +He reviled himself with transcendent bitterness, +he accused himself of cruelty and injustice, he would +have lain down there in Roderick's place to unsay the words +that had yesterday driven him forth on his lonely ramble. +Roderick had been fond of saying that there are such things +as necessary follies, and Rowland was now proving it. +At last he grew almost used to the dumb exultation of +the cliff above him. He saw that Roderick was a mass of +hideous injury, and he tried to understand what had happened. +Not that it helped him; before that confounding mortality +one hypothesis after another faltered and swooned away. +Roderick's passionate walk had carried him farther and higher +than he knew; he had outstayed, supposably, the first menace +of the storm, and perhaps even found a defiant entertainment +in watching it. Perhaps he had simply lost himself. +The tempest had overtaken him, and when he tried to return, +it was too late. He had attempted to descend the cliff +in the darkness, he had made the inevitable slip, and whether +he had fallen fifty feet or three hundred little mattered. +The condition of his body indicated the shorter fall. +Now that all was over, Rowland understood how exclusively, +for two years, Roderick had filled his life. +His occupation was gone. + +Singleton came back with four men--one of them the landlord of the inn. +They had formed a sort of rude bier of the frame of a chaise a porteurs, +and by taking a very round-about course homeward were able to follow +a tolerably level path and carry their burden with a certain decency. +To Rowland it seemed as if the little procession would never reach +the inn; but as they drew near it he would have given his right hand +for a longer delay. The people of the inn came forward to meet them, +in a little silent, solemn convoy. In the doorway, clinging together, +appeared the two bereaved women. Mrs. Hudson tottered forward with +outstretched hands and the expression of a blind person; but before she +reached her son, Mary Garland had rushed past her, and, in the face +of the staring, pitying, awe-stricken crowd, had flung herself, +with the magnificent movement of one whose rights were supreme, +and with a loud, tremendous cry, upon the senseless vestige of her love. + +That cry still lives in Rowland's ears. It interposes, +persistently, against the reflection that when he sometimes-- +very rarely--sees her, she is unreservedly kind to him; +against the memory that during the dreary journey back to America, +made of course with his assistance, there was a great frankness +in her gratitude, a great gratitude in her frankness. +Miss Garland lives with Mrs. Hudson, at Northampton, where Rowland +visits his cousin Cecilia more frequently than of old. +When he calls upon Miss Garland he never sees Mrs. Hudson. +Cecilia, who, having her shrewd impression that he comes to see +Miss Garland as much as to see herself, does not feel obliged +to seem unduly flattered, calls him, whenever he reappears, +the most restless of mortals. But he always says to her in answer, +"No, I assure you I am the most patient!" + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Roderick Hudson, by Henry James + diff --git a/old/rhuds10.zip b/old/rhuds10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..411fdec --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rhuds10.zip |