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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3406.txt b/3406.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..457e884 --- /dev/null +++ b/3406.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6676 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ragged Lady, Part 2, by William Dean Howells + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Ragged Lady, Part 2 + +Author: William Dean Howells + +Release Date: October 24, 2004 [EBook #3406] +[Last updated: August 10, 2014] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAGGED LADY, PART 2 *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +RAGGED LADY + +By William Dean Howells + + + + +Part 2 + + + +XV. + +Mrs. Lander went to a hotel in New York where she had been in the habit +of staying with her husband, on their way South or North. The clerk knew +her, and shook hands with her across the register, and said she could +have her old rooms if she wanted them; the bell-boy who took up their +hand-baggage recalled himself to her; the elevator-boy welcomed her with +a smile of remembrance. + +Since she was already up, from coming off the sleeping-car, she had no +excuse for not going to breakfast like other people; and she went with +Clementina to the dining-room, where the head-waiter, who found them +places, spoke with an outlandish accent, and the waiter who served them +had a parlance that seemed superficially English, but was inwardly +something else; there was even a touch in the cooking of the familiar +dishes, that needed translation for the girl's inexperienced palate. She +was finding a refuge in the strangeness of everything, when she was +startled by the sound of a familiar voice calling, "Clementina Claxon! +Well, I was sure all along it was you, and I determined I wouldn't stand +it another minute. Why, child, how you have changed! Why, I declare you +are quite a woman! When did you come? How pretty you are!" Mrs. Milray took +Clementina in her arms and kissed her in proof of her admiration before +the whole breakfast room. She was very nice to Mrs. Lander, too, who, +when Clementina introduced them, made haste to say that Clementina was +there on a visit with her. Mrs. Milray answered that she envied her such +a visitor as Miss Claxon, and protested that she should steal her away +for a visit to herself, if Mr. Milray was not so much in love with her +that it made her jealous. "Mr. Milray has to have his breakfast in his +room," she explained to Clementina. "He's not been so well, since he lost +his mother. Yes," she said, with decorous solemnity, "I'm still in +mourning for her," and Clementina saw that she was in a tempered black. +"She died last year, and now I'm taking Mr. Milray abroad to see if it +won't cheer him up a little. Are you going South for the winter?" she +inquired, politely, of Mrs. Lander. "I wish I was going," she said, when +Mrs. Lander guessed they should go, later on. "Well, you must come in and +see me all you can, Clementina; and I shall have the pleasure of calling +upon you," she added to Mrs. Lander with state that was lost in the +soubrette-like volatility of her flight from them the next moment. +"Goodness, I forgot all about Mr. Milray's breakfast!" She ran back to +the table she had left on the other side of the room. + +"Who is that, Clementina?" asked Mrs. Lander, on their way to their +rooms. Clementina explained as well as she could, and Mrs. Lander summed +up her feeling in the verdict, "Well, she's a lady, if ever I saw a lady; +and you don't see many of 'em, nowadays." + +The girl remembered how Mrs. Milray had once before seemed very fond of +her, and had afterwards forgotten the pretty promises and professions she +had made her. But she went with Mrs. Lander to see her, and she saw Mr. +Milray, too, for a little while. He seemed glad of their meeting, but +still depressed by the bereavement which Mrs. Milray supported almost +with gayety. When he left them she explained that he was a good deal away +from her, with his family, as she approved of his being, though she had +apparently no wish to join him in all the steps of the reconciliation +which the mother's death had brought about among them. Sometimes his +sisters came to the hotel to see her, but she amused herself perfectly +without them, and she gave much more of her leisure to Clementina and +Mrs. Lander. + +She soon knew the whole history of the relation between them, and the +first time that Clementina found her alone with Mrs. Lander she could +have divined that Mrs. Lander had been telling her of the Fane affair, +even if Mrs. Milray had not at once called out to her, "I know all about +it; and I'll tell you what, Clementina, I'm going to take you over with +me and marry you to an English Duke. Mrs. Lander and I have been planning +it all out, and I'm going to send down to the steamer office, and engage +your passage. It's all settled!" + +When she was gone, Mrs. Lander asked, "What do you s'pose your folks +would say to your goin' to Europe, anyway, Clementina?" as if the matter +had been already debated between them. + +Clementina hesitated. "I should want to be su'a, Mrs. Milray really wanted +me to go ova with her." + +"Why, didn't you hear her say so?" demanded Mrs. Lander. + +"Yes," sighed Clementina. "Mrs. Lander, I think Mrs. Milray means what +she says, at the time, but she is one that seems to forget." + +"She thinks the wo'ld of you," Mrs. Lander urged. + +"She was very nice to me that summer at Middlemount. I guess maybe she +would like to have us go with her," the girl relented. + +"I guess we'll wait and see," said Mrs. Lander. "I shouldn't want she +should change her mind when it was too late, as you say." They were both +silent for a time, and then Mrs. Lander resumed, "But I presume she +ha'n't got the only steams that's crossin'. What should you say about +goin' over on some otha steams? I been South a good many wintas, and I +should feel kind of lonesome goin' round to the places where I been with +Mr. Landa. I felt it since I been here in this hotel, some, and I can't +seem to want to go ova the same ground again, well, not right away." + +Clementina said, "Why, of cou'se, Mrs. Landa." + +"Should you be willin'," asked Mrs. Lander, after another little pause, +"if your folks was willin', to go ova the'a, to some of them European +countries, to spend the winta?" + +"Oh yes, indeed!" said Clementina. + +They discussed the matter in one of the full talks they both liked. At +the end Mrs. Lander said, "Well, I guess you betta write home, and ask +your motha whetha you can go, so't if we take the notion we can go any +time. Tell her to telegraph, if she'll let you, and do write all the ifs +and ands, so't she'll know just how to answa, without havin' to have you +write again." + +That evening Mrs. Milray came to their table from where she had been +dining alone, and asked in banter: "Well, have you made up your minds to +go over with me?" + +Mrs. Lander said bluntly, "We can't ha'dly believe you really want us to, +Mrs. Milray." + +"I don't want you? Who put such an idea into your head! Oh, I know!" She +threatened Clementina with the door-key, which she was carrying in her +hand. "It was you, was it? What an artful, suspicious thing! What's got +into you, child? Do you hate me?" She did not give Clementina time to +protest. "Well, now, I can just tell you I do want you, and I'll be quite +heart-broken if you don't come." + +"Well, she wrote to her friends this mohning," Mrs. Lander said, "but I +guess she won't git an answa in time for youa steamer, even if they do +let her go." + +"Oh, yes she will," Mrs. Milray protested. "It's all right, now; you've +got to go, and there's no use trying to get out of it." + +She came to them whenever she could find them in the dining-room, and she +knocked daily at their door till she knew that Clementina had heard from +home. The girl's mother wrote, without a punctuation mark in her letter, +but with a great deal of sense, that such a thing as her going to Europe +could not be settled by telegraph. She did not think it worth while to +report all the facts of a consultation with the rector which they had +held upon getting Clementina's request, and which had renewed all the +original question of her relations with Mrs. Lander in an intensified +form. He had disposed of this upon much the same terms as before; and +they had yielded more readily because the experiment had so far +succeeded. Clementina had apparently no complaint to make of Mrs. Lander; +she was eager to go, and the rector and his wife, who had been invited to +be of the council, were both of the opinion that a course of European +travel would be of the greatest advantage to the girl, if she wished to +fit herself for teaching. It was an opportunity that they must not think +of throwing away. If Mrs. Lander went to Florence, as it seemed from +Clementina's letter she thought of doing, the girl would pass a +delightful winter in study of one of the most interesting cities in the +world, and she would learn things which would enable her to do better for +herself when she came home than she could ever hope to do otherwise. She +might never marry, Mr. Richling suggested, and it was only right and fair +that she should be equipped with as much culture as possible for the +struggle of life; Mrs. Richling agreed with this rather vague theory, but +she was sure that Clementina would get married to greater advantage in +Florence than anywhere else. They neither of them really knew anything at +first hand about Florence; the rector's opinion was grounded on the +thought of the joy that a sojourn in Italy would have been to him; his +wife derived her hope of a Florentine marriage for Clementina from +several romances in which love and travel had gone hand in hand, to the +lasting credit of triumphant American girlhood. + +The Claxons were not able to enter into their view of the case, but if +Mrs. Lander wanted to go to Florence instead of Florida they did not see +why Clementina should not go with her to one place as well as the other. +They were not without a sense of flattery from the fact that their +daughter was going to Europe; but they put that as far from them as they +could, the mother severely and the father ironically, as something too +silly, and they tried not to let it weigh with them in making up their +mind, but to consider only Clementina's best good, and not even to regard +her pleasure. Her mother put before her the most crucial questions she +could think of, in her letter, and then gave her full leave from her +father as well as herself to go if she wished. + +Clementina had rather it had been too late to go with the Milrays, but +she felt bound to own her decision when she reached it; and Mrs. Milray, +whatever her real wish was, made it a point of honor to help get Mrs. +Lander berths on her steamer. It did not require much effort; there are +plenty of berths for the latest-comers on a winter passage, and +Clementina found herself the fellow passenger of Mrs. Milray. + + + + +XVI. + +As soon as Mrs. Lander could make her way to her state-room, she got into +her berth, and began to take the different remedies for sea-sickness +which she had brought with her. Mrs. Milray said that was nice, and that +now she and Clementina could have a good time. But before it came to that +she had taken pity on a number of lonely young men whom she found on +board. She cheered them up by walking round the ship with them; but if +any of them continued dull in spite of this, she dropped him, and took +another; and before she had been two days out she had gone through with +nearly all the lonely young men on the list of cabin passengers. She +introduced some of them to Clementina, but at such times as she had them +in charge; and for the most part she left her to Milray. Once, as the +girl sat beside him in her steamer-chair, Mrs. Milray shed a wrap on his +knees in whirring by on the arm of one of her young men, with some +laughed and shouted charge about it. + +"What did she say?" he asked Clementina, slanting the down-pulled brim of +his soft hat purblindly toward her. + +She said she had not understood, and then Milray asked, "What sort of +person is that Boston youth of Mrs. Milray's? Is he a donkey or a lamb?" + +Clementina said ingenuously, "Oh, she's walking with that English +gentleman now--that lo'd." + +"Ah, yes," said Milray. "He's not very much to look at, I hear." + +"Well, not very much," Clementina admitted; she did not like to talk +against people. + +"Lords are sometimes disappointing, Clementina," Milray said, "but then, +so are other great men. I've seen politicians on our side who were +disappointing, and there are clergymen and gamblers who don't look it." +He laughed sadly. "That's the way people talk who are a little +disappointing themselves. I hope you don't expect too much of yourself, +Clementina?" + +"I don't know what you mean," she said, stiffening with a suspicion that +he might be going to make fun of her. + +He laughed more gayly. "Well, I mean we must hold the other fellows up to +their duty, or we can't do our own. We need their example. Charity may +begin at home, but duty certainly begins abroad." He went on, as if it +were a branch of the same inquiry, "Did you ever meet my sisters? They +came to the hotel in New York to see Mrs. Milray." + +"Yes, I was in the room once when they came in." + +"Did you like them?" + +"Yes--I sca'cely spoke to them--I only stayed a moment." + +"Would you like to see any more of the family?" + +"Why, of cou'se!" Clementina was amused at his asking, but he seemed in +earnest. + +"One of my sisters lives in Florence, and Mrs. Milray says you think of +going there, too." + +"Mrs. Landa thought it would be a good place to spend the winter. Is it a +pleasant place?" + +"Oh, delightful! Do you know much about Italy?" + +"Not very much, I don't believe." + +"Well, my sister has lived a good while in Florence. I should like to +give you a letter to her." + +"Oh, thank you!" said Clementina. + +Milray smiled at her spare acknowledgment, but inquired gravely: "What do +you expect to do in Florence?" + +"Why, I presume, whateva Mrs. Landa wants to do." + +"Do you think Mrs. Lander will want to go into society?" + +This question had not occurred to Clementina. "I don't believe she will," +she said, thoughtfully. + +"Shall you?" + +Clementina laughed, "Why, do you think," she ventured, "that society +would want me to?" + +"Yes, I think it would, if you're as charming as you've tried to make me +believe. Oh, I don't mean, to your own knowledge; but some people have +ways of being charming without knowing it. If Mrs. Lander isn't going +into society, and there should be a way found for you to go, don't +refuse, will you?" + +"I shall wait and see if I'm asked, fust." + +"Yes, that will be best," said Milray. "But I shall give you a letter to +my sister. She and I used to be famous cronies, and we went to a great +many parties together when we were young people. We thought the world was +a fine thing, then. But it changes." + +He fell into a muse, and they were both sitting quite silent when Mrs. +Milray came round the corner of the music room in the course of her +twentieth or thirtieth compass of the deck, and introduced her lord to +her husband and to Clementina. He promptly ignored Milray, and devoted +himself to the girl, leaning over her with his hand against the bulkhead +behind her and talking down upon her. + +Lord Lioncourt must have been about thirty, but he had the heated and +broken complexion of a man who has taken more than is good for him in +twice that number of years. This was one of the wrongs nature had done +him in apparent resentment of the social advantages he was born to, for +he was rather abstemious, as Englishmen go. He looked a very shy person +till he spoke, and then you found that he was not in the least shy. He +looked so English that you would have expected a strong English accent of +him, but his speech was more that of an American, without the nasality. +This was not apparently because he had been much in America; he was +returning from his first visit to the States, which had been spent +chiefly in the Territories; after a brief interval of Newport he had +preferred the West; he liked rather to hunt than to be hunted, though +even in the West his main business had been to kill time, which he found +more plentiful there than other game. The natives, everywhere, were much +the same thing to him; if he distinguished it was in favor of those who +did not suppose themselves cultivated. If again he had a choice it was +for the females; they seemed to him more amusing than the males, who +struck him as having an exaggerated reputation for humor. He did not care +much for Clementina's past, as he knew it from Mrs. Milray, and if it did +not touch his fancy, it certainly did not offend his taste. A real +artistocracy is above social prejudice, when it will; he had known some +of his order choose the mothers of their heirs from the music halls, and +when it came to a question of distinctions among Americans, he could not +feel them. They might be richer or poorer; but they could not be more +patrician or more plebeian. + +The passengers, he told Clementina, were getting up, at this point of the +ship's run, an entertainment for the benefit of the seaman's hospital in +Liverpool, that well-known convention of ocean-travel, which is sure at +some time or other, to enlist all the talent on board every English +steamer in some sort of public appeal. He was not very clear how he came +to be on the committee for drumming up talent for the occasion; his +distinction seemed to have been conferred by a popular vote in the +smoking room, as nearly as he could make out; but here he was, and he was +counting upon Miss Claxon to help him out. He said Mrs. Milray had told +him about that charming affair they had got up in the mountains, and he +was sure they could have something of the kind again. "Perhaps not a +coaching party; that mightn't be so easy to manage at sea. But isn't +there something else--some tableaux or something? If we couldn't have the +months of the year we might have the points of the compass, and you could +take your choice." + +He tried to get something out of the notion, but nothing came of it that +Mrs. Milray thought possible. She said, across her husband, on whose +further side she had sunk into a chair, that they must have something +very informal; everybody must do what they could, separately. "I know you +can do anything you like, Clementina. Can't you play something, or sing?" +At Clementina's look of utter denial, she added, desperately, "Or dance +something?" A light came into the girl's face at which she caught. "I +know you can dance something! Why, of course! Now, what is it?" + +Clementina smiled at her vehemence. "Why, it's nothing. And I don't know +whether I should like to." + +"Oh, yes," urged Lord Lioncourt. "Such a good cause, you know." + +"What is it?" Mrs. Milray insisted. "Is it something you could do alone?" + +"It's just a dance that I learned at Woodlake. The teacha said that all +the young ladies we'e leaning it. It's a skut-dance--" + +"The very thing!" Mrs. Milray shouted. "It'll be the hit of the evening." + +"But I've never done it before any one," Clementina faltered. + +"They'll all be doing their turns," the Englishman said. "Speaking, and +singing, and playing." + +Clementina felt herself giving way, and she pleaded in final reluctance, +"But I haven't got a pleated skut in my steama trunk." + +"No matter! We can manage that." Mrs. Milray jumped to her feet and took +Lord Lioncourt's arm. "Now we must go and drum up somebody else." He did +not seem eager to go, but he started. "Then that's all settled," she +shouted over her shoulder to Clementina. + +"No, no, Mrs. Milray!" Clementina called after her. "The ship tilts so--" + +"Nonsense! It's the smoothest run she ever made in December. And I'll +engage to have the sea as steady as a rock for you. Remember, now, you've +promised." + +Mrs. Milray whirled her Englishman away, and left Clementina sitting +beside her husband. + +"Did you want to dance for them, Clementina?" he asked. + +"I don't know," she said, with the vague smile of one to whom a pleasant +hope has occurred. + +"I thought perhaps you were letting Mrs. Milray bully you into it. She's +a frightful tyrant." + +"Oh, I guess I should like to do it, if you think it would be--nice." + +"I dare say it will be the nicest thing at their ridiculous show." Milray +laughed as if her willingness to do the dance had defeated a sentimental +sympathy in him. + +"I don't believe it will be that," said Clementina, beaming joyously. +"But I guess I shall try it, if I can find the right kind of a dress." + +"Is a pleated skirt absolutely necessary," asked Milray, gravely. + +"I don't see how I could get on without it," said Clementina. + +She was so serious still when she went down to her state-room that Mrs. +Lander was distracted from her potential ailments to ask: "What is it, +Clementina?" + +"Oh, nothing. Mrs. Milray has got me to say that I would do something at +a concert they ah' going to have on the ship." She explained, "It's that +skut dance I learnt at Woodlake of Miss Wilson." + +"Well, I guess if you're worryin' about that you needn't to." + +"Oh, I'm not worrying about the dance. I was just thinking what I should +wear. If I could only get at the trunks!" + +"It won't make any matte what you wear," said Mrs. Lander. "It'll be the +greatest thing; and if 't wa'n't for this sea-sickness that I have to +keep fightin' off he'a, night and day, I should come up and see you +myself. You ah' just lovely in that dance, Clementina." + +"Do you think so, Mrs. Landa?" asked the girl, gratefully. "Well, Mr. +Milray didn't seem to think that I need to have a pleated skut. Any rate, +I'm going to look over my things, and see if I can't make something else +do." + + + + +XVII. + +The entertainment was to be the second night after that, and Mrs. Milray +at first took the whole affair into her own hands. She was willing to let +the others consult with her, but she made all the decisions, and she +became so prepotent that she drove Lord Lioncourt to rebellion in the +case of some theatrical people whom he wanted in the programme. He wished +her to let them feel that they were favoring rather than favored, and she +insisted that it should be quite the other way. She professed a scruple +against having theatrical people in the programme at all, which she might +not have felt if her own past had been different, and she spoke with an +abhorrence of the stage which he could by no means tolerate in the case. +She submitted with dignity when she could not help it. Perhaps she +submitted with too much dignity. Her concession verged upon hauteur; and +in her arrogant meekness she went back to another of her young men, whom +she began to post again as the companion of her promenades. + +He had rather an anxious air in the enjoyment of the honor, but the +Englishman seemed unconscious of its loss, or else he chose to ignore it. +He frankly gave his leisure to Clementina, and she thought he was very +pleasant. There was something different in his way from that of any of +the other men she had met; something very natural and simple, a way of +being easy in what he was, and not caring whether he was like others or +not; he was not ashamed of being ignorant of anything he did not know, +and she was able to instruct him on some points. He took her quite +seriously when she told him about Middlemount, and how her family came to +settle there, and then how she came to be going to Europe with Mrs. +Lander. He said Mrs. Milray had spoken about it; but he had not +understood quite how it was before; and he hoped Mrs. Lander was coming +to the entertainment. + +He did not seem aware that Mrs. Milray was leaving the affair more and +more to him. He went forward with it and was as amiable with her as she +would allow. He was so amiable with everybody that he reconciled many +true Americans to his leadership, who felt that as nearly all the +passengers were Americans, the chief patron of the entertainment ought to +have been some distinguished American. The want of an American who was +very distinguished did something to pacify them; but the behavior of an +English lord who put on no airs was the main agency. When the night came +they filled the large music room of the 'Asia Minor', and stood about in +front of the sofas and chairs so many deep that it was hard to see or +hear through them. + +They each paid a shilling admittance; they were prepared to give +munificently besides when the hat came round; and after the first burst +of blundering from Lord Lioncourt, they led the magnanimous applause. He +said he never minded making a bad speech in a good cause, and he made as +bad a one as very well could be. He closed it by telling Mark Twain's +whistling story so that those who knew it by heart missed the point; but +that might have been because he hurried it, to get himself out of the way +of the others following. When he had done, one of the most ardent of the +Americans proposed three cheers for him. + +The actress whom he had secured in spite of Mrs. Milray appeared in +woman's dress contrary to her inveterate professional habit, and followed +him with great acceptance in her favorite variety-stage song; and then +her husband gave imitations of Sir Henry Irving, and of Miss Maggie Kline +in "T'row him down, McCloskey," with a cockney accent. A frightened +little girl, whose mother had volunteered her talent, gasped a ballad to +her mother's accompaniment, and two young girls played a duet on the +mandolin and guitar. A gentleman of cosmopolitan military tradition, who +sold the pools in the smoking-room, and was the friend of all the men +present, and the acquaintance of several, gave selections of his +autobiography prefatory to bellowing in a deep bass voice, "They're +hanging Danny Deaver," and then a lady interpolated herself into the +programme with a kindness which Lord Lioncourt acknowledged, in saying +"The more the merrier," and sang Bonnie Dundee, thumping the piano out of +all proportion to her size and apparent strength. + +Some advances which Clementina had made for Mrs. Milray's help about the +dress she should wear in her dance met with bewildering indifference, and +she had fallen back upon her own devices. She did not think of taking +back her promise, and she had come to look forward to her part with a +happiness which the good weather and the even sway of the ship +encouraged. But her pulses fluttered, as she glided into the music room, +and sank into a chair next Mrs. Milray. She had on an accordion skirt +which she had been able to get out of her trunk in the hold, and she felt +that the glance of Mrs. Milray did not refuse it approval. + +"That will do nicely, Clementina," she said. She added, in careless +acknowledgement of her own failure to direct her choice, "I see you +didn't need my help after all," and the thorny point which Clementina +felt in her praise was rankling, when Lord Lioncourt began to introduce +her. + +He made rather a mess of it, but as soon as he came to an end of his +well-meant blunders, she stood up and began her poses and paces. It was +all very innocent, with something courageous as well as appealing. She +had a kind of tender dignity in her dance, and the delicate beauty of her +face translated itself into the grace of her movements. It was not +impersonal; there was her own quality of sylvan, of elegant in it; but it +was unconscious, and so far it was typical, it was classic; Mrs. Milray's +Bostonian achieved a snub from her by saying it was like a Botticelli; +and in fact it was merely the skirt-dance which society had borrowed from +the stage at that period, leaving behind the footlights its more +acrobatic phases, but keeping its pretty turns and bows and bends. +Clementina did it not only with tender dignity, but when she was fairly +launched in it, with a passion to which her sense of Mrs. Milray's +strange unkindness lent defiance. The dance was still so new a thing +then, that it had a surprise to which the girl's gentleness lent a +curious charm, and it had some adventitious fascinations from the +necessity she was in of weaving it in and out among the stationary +armchairs and sofas which still further cramped the narrow space where +she gave it. Her own delight in it shone from her smiling face, which was +appealingly happy. Just before it should have ended, one of those +wandering waves that roam the smoothest sea struck the ship, and +Clementina caught herself skilfully from falling, and reeled to her seat, +while the room rang with the applause and sympathetic laughter for the +mischance she had baffled. There was a storm of encores, but Clementina +called out, "The ship tilts so!" and her naivete won her another burst of +favor, which was at its height when Lord Lioncourt had an inspiration. + +He jumped up and said, "Miss Claxon is going to oblige us with a little +bit of dramatics, now, and I'm sure you'll all enjoy that quite as much +as her beautiful dancing. She's going to take the principal part in the +laughable after-piece of Passing round the Hat, and I hope the audience +will--a--a--a--do the rest. She's consented on this occasion to use a +hat--or cap, rather--of her own, the charming Tam O'Shanter in which +we've all seen her, and--a--admired her about the ship for the week +past." + +He caught up the flat woolen steamer-cap which Clementina had left in her +seat beside Mrs. Milray when she rose to dance, and held it aloft. Some +one called out, "Chorus! For he's a jolly good fellow," and led off in +his praise. Lord Lioncourt shouted through the uproar the announcement +that while Miss Claxon was taking up the collection, Mr. Ewins, of +Boston, would sing one of the student songs of Cambridge--no! +Harvard--University; the music being his own. + +Everyone wanted to make some joke or some compliment to Clementina about +the cap which grew momently heavier under the sovereigns and half +sovereigns, half crowns and half dollars, shillings, quarters, greenbacks +and every fraction of English and American silver; and the actor who had +given the imitations, made bold, as he said, to ask his lordship if the +audience might not hope, before they dispersed, for something more from +Miss Claxon. He was sure she could do something more; he for one would be +glad of anything; and Clementina turned from putting her cap into Mrs. +Milray's lap, to find Lord Lioncourt bowing at her elbow, and offering +her his arm to lead her to the spot where she had stood in dancing. + +The joy of her triumph went to her head; she wished to retrieve herself +from any shadow of defeat. + +She stood panting a moment, and then, if she had had the professional +instinct, she would have given her admirers the surprise of something +altogether different from what had pleased them before. That was what the +actor would have done, but Clementina thought of how her dance had been +brought to an untimely close by the rolling of the ship; she burned to do +it all as she knew it, no matter how the sea behaved, and in another +moment she struck into it again. This time the sea behaved perfectly, and +the dance ended with just the swoop and swirl she had meant it to have at +first. The spectators went generously wild over her; they cheered and +clapped her, and crowded upon her to tell how lovely it was; but she +escaped from them, and ran back to the place where she had left Mrs. +Milray. She was not there, and Clementina's cap full of alms lay +abandoned on the chair. Lord Lioncourt said he would take charge of the +money, if she would lend him her cap to carry it in to the purser, and +she made her way into the saloon. In a distant corner she saw Mrs. Milray +with Mr. Ewins. + +She advanced in a vague dismay toward them, and as she came near Mrs. +Milray said to Mr. Ewins, "I don't like this place. Let's go over +yonder." She rose and rushed him to the other end of the saloon. + +Lord Lioncourt came in looking about. "Ah, have you found her?" he asked, +gayly. "There were twenty pounds in your cap, and two hundred dollars." + +"Yes," said Clementina, "she's over the'a." She pointed, and then shrank +and slipped away. + + + + +XVIII. + +At breakfast Mrs. Milray would not meet Clementina's eye; she talked to +the people across the table in a loud, lively voice, and then suddenly +rose, and swept past her out of the saloon. + +The girl did not see her again till Mrs. Milray came up on the promenade +at the hour when people who have eaten too much breakfast begin to spoil +their appetite for luncheon with the tea and bouillon of the +deck-stewards. She looked fiercely about, and saw Clementina seated in +her usual place, but with Lord Lioncourt in her own chair next her +husband, and Ewins on foot before her. They were both talking to +Clementina, whom Lord Lioncourt was accusing of being in low spirits +unworthy of her last night's triumphs. He jumped up, and offered his +place, "I've got your chair, Mrs. Milray." + +"Oh, no," she said, coldly, "I was just coming to look after Mr. Milray. +But I see he's in good hands." + +She turned away, as if to make the round of the deck, and Ewins hurried +after her. He came back directly, and said that Mrs. Milray had gone into +the library to write letters. He stayed, uneasily, trying to talk, but +with the air of a man who has been snubbed, and has not got back his +composure. + +Lord Lioncourt talked on until he had used up the incidents of the night +before, and the probabilities of their getting into Queenstown before +morning; then he and Mr. Ewins went to the smoking-room together, and +Clementina was left alone with Milray. + +"Clementina," he said, gently, "I don't see everything; but isn't there +some trouble between you and Mrs. Milray?" + +"Why, I don't know what it can be," answered the girl, with trembling +lips. "I've been trying to find out, and I can't undastand it." + +"Ah, those things are often very obscure," said Milray, with a patient +smile. + +Clementina wanted to ask him if Mrs. Milray had said anything to him +about her, but she could not, and he did not speak again till he heard +her stir in rising from her chair. Then he said, "I haven't forgotten +that letter to my sister, Clementina. I will give it to you before we +leave the steamer. Are you going to stay in Liverpool, over night, or +shall you go up to London at once?" + +"I don't know. It will depend upon how Mrs. Landa feels." + +"Well, we shall see each other again. Don't be worried." He looked up at +her with a smile, and he could not see how forlornly she returned it. + +As the day passed, Mrs. Milray's angry eyes seemed to search her out for +scorn whenever Clementina found herself the centre of her last night's +celebrity. Many people came up and spoke to her, at first with a certain +expectation of knowingness in her, which her simplicity baffled. Then +they either dropped her, and went away, or stayed and tried to make +friends with her because of this; an elderly English clergyman and his +wife were at first compassionately anxious about her, and then +affectionately attentive to her in her obvious isolation. Clementina's +simple-hearted response to their advances appeared to win while it +puzzled them; and they seemed trying to divine her in the strange double +character she wore to their more single civilization. The theatrical +people thought none the worse of her for her simple-heartedness, +apparently; they were both very sweet to her, and wanted her to promise +to come and see them in their little box in St. John's Wood. Once, +indeed, Clementina thought she saw relenting in Mrs. Milray's glance, but +it hardened again as Lord Lioncourt and Mr. Ewins came up to her, and +began to talk with her. She could not go to her chair beside Milray, for +his wife was now keeping guard of him on the other side with unexampled +devotion. Lord Lioncourt asked her to walk with him and she consented. +She thought that Mr. Ewins would go and sit by Mrs. Milray, of course, +but when she came round in her tour of the ship, Mrs. Milray was sitting +alone beside her husband. + +After dinner she went to the library and got a book, but she could not +read there; every chair was taken by people writing letters to send back +from Queenstown in the morning; and she strayed into the ladies' sitting +room, where no ladies seemed ever to sit, and lost herself in a miserable +muse over her open page. + +Some one looked in at the door, and then advanced within and came +straight to Clementina; she knew without looking up that it was Mrs. +Milray. "I have been hunting for you, Miss Claxon," she said, in a voice +frostily fierce, and with a bearing furiously formal. "I have a letter to +Miss Milray that my busband wished me to write for you, and give you with +his compliments." + +"Thank you," said Clementina. She rose mechanically to her feet, and at +the same time Mrs. Milray sat down. + +"You will find Miss Milray," she continued, with the same glacial +hauteur, "a very agreeable and cultivated lady." + +Clementina said nothing; and Mrs. Milray added, + +"And I hope she may have the happiness of being more useful to you than I +have." + +"What do you mean, Mrs. Milray?" Clementina asked with unexpected spirit +and courage. + +"I mean simply this, that I have not succeeded in putting you on your +guard against your love of admiration--especially the admiration of +gentlemen. A young girl can't be too careful how she accepts the +attentions of gentlemen, and if she seems to invite them--" + +"Mrs. Milray!" cried Clementina. "How can you say such a thing to me?" + +"How? I shall have to be plain with you, I see. Perhaps I have not +considered that, after all, you know nothing about life and are not to +blame for things that a person born and bred in the world would +understand from childhood. If you don't know already, I can tell you that +the way you have behaved with Lord Lioncourt during the last two or three +days, and the way you showed your pleasure the other night in his +ridiculous flatteries of you, was enough to make you the talk of the +whole steamer. I advise you for your own sake to take my warning in time. +You are very young, and inexperienced and ignorant, but that will not +save you in the eyes of the world if you keep on." Mrs. Milray rose. "And +now I will leave you to think of what I have said. Here is the letter for +Miss Milray--" + +Clementina shook her head. "I don't want it." + +"You don't want it? But I have written it at Mr. Milray's request, and I +shall certainly leave it with you!" + +"If you do," said Clementina, "I shall not take it!" + +"And what shall I say to Mr. Milray?" + +"What you have just said to me." + +"What have I said to you?" + +"That I'm a bold girl, and that I've tried to make men admi'a me." + +Mrs. Milray stopped as if suddenly daunted by a fact that had not +occurred to her before. "Did I say that?" + +"The same as that." + +"I didn't mean that--I--merely meant to put you on your guard. It may be +because you are so innocent yourself, that you can't imagine what others +think, and--I did it out of my regard for you." + +Clementina did not answer. + +Mrs. Milray went on, "That was why I was so provoked with you. I think +that for a young girl to stand up and dance alone before a whole steamer +full of strangers"--Clementina looked at her without speaking, and Mrs. +Milray hastened to say, "To be sure I advised you to do it, but I +certainly was surprised that you should give an encore. But no matter, +now. This letter--" + +"I can't take it, Mrs. Milray," said Clementina, with a swelling heart. + +"Now, listen!" urged Mrs. Milray. "You think I'm just saying it because, +if you don't take it I shall have to tell Mr. Milray I was so hateful to +you, you couldn't. Well, I should hate to tell him that; but that isn't +the reason. There!" She tore the letter in pieces, and threw it on the +floor. Clementina did not make any sign of seeing this, and Mrs. Milray +dropped upon her chair again. "Oh, how hard you are! Can't you say +something to me?" + +Clementina did not lift her eyes. "I don't feel like saying anything just +now." + +Mrs. Milray was silent a moment. Then she sighed. "Well, you may hate me, +but I shall always be your friend. What hotel are you going to in +Liverpool? + +"I don't know," said Clementina. + +"You had better come to the one where we go. I'm afraid Mrs. Lander won't +know how to manage very well, and we've been in Liverpool so often. May I +speak to her about it?" + +"If you want to," Clementina coldly assented. + +"I see!" said Mrs. Milray. "You don't want to be under the same roof with +me. Well, you needn't! But I'll tell you a good hotel: the one that the +trains start out of; and I'll send you that letter for Miss Milray." +Clementina was silent. "Well, I'll send it, anyway." + +Mrs. Milray went away in sudden tears, but the girl remained dry-eyed. + + + + +XIX. + +Mrs. Lander realized when the ship came to anchor in the stream at +Liverpool that she had not been seasick a moment during the voyage. In +the brisk cold of the winter morning, as they came ashore in the tug, she +fancied a property of health in the European atmosphere, which she was +sure would bring her right up, if she stayed long enough; and a regret +that she had never tried it with Mr. Lander mingled with her new hopes +for herself. + +But Clementina looked with home-sick eyes at the strangeness of the alien +scene: the pale, low heaven which seemed not to be clouded and yet was so +dim; the flat shores with the little railroad trains running in and out +over them; the grimy bulks of the city, and the shipping in the river, +sparse and sombre after the gay forest of sails and stacks at New York. + +She did not see the Milrays after she left the tug, in the rapid +dispersal of the steamer's passengers. They both took leave of her at the +dock, and Mrs. Milray whispered with penitence in her voice and eyes, "I +will write," but the girl did not answer. + +Before Mrs. Lander's trunks and her own were passed, she saw Lord +Lioncourt going away with his heavily laden man at his heels. Mr. Ewins +came up to see if he could help her through the customs, but she believed +that he had come at Mrs. Milray's bidding, and she thanked him so +prohibitively that he could not insist. The English clergyman who had +spoken to her the morning after the charity entertainment left his wife +with Mrs. Lander, and came to her help, and then Mr. Ewins went his way. + +The clergyman, who appeared to feel the friendlessness of the young girl +and the old woman a charge laid upon him, bestowed a sort of fatherly +protection upon them both. He advised them to stop at a hotel for a few +hours and take the later train for London that he and his wife were going +up by; they drove to the hotel together, where Mrs. Lander could not be +kept from paying the omnibus, and made them have luncheon with her. She +allowed the clergyman to get her tickets, and she could not believe that +he had taken second class tickets for himself and his wife. She said that +she had never heard of anyone travelling second class before, and she +assured him that they never did it in America. She begged him to let her +pay the difference, and bring his wife into her compartment, which the +guard had reserved for her. She urged that the money was nothing to her, +compared with the comfort of being with some one you knew; and the +clergyman had to promise that as they should be neighbors, he would look +in upon her, whenever the train stopped long enough. + +Before it began to move, Clementina thought she saw Lord Lioncourt +hurrying past their carriage-window. At Rugby the clergyman appeared, but +almost before he could speak, Lord Lioncourt's little red face showed at +his elbow. He asked Clementina to present him to Mrs. Lander, who pressed +him to get into her compartment; the clergyman vanished, and Lord +Lioncourt yielded. + +Mrs. Lander found him able to tell her the best way to get to Florence, +whose situation he seemed to know perfectly; he confessed that he had +been there rather often. He made out a little itinerary for going +straight through by sleeping-car as soon as you crossed the Channel; she +had said that she always liked a through train when she could get it, and +the less stops the better. She bade Clementina take charge of the plan +and not lose it; without it she did not see what they could do. She +conceived of him as a friend of Clementina's, and she lost in the strange +environment the shyness she had with most people. She told him how Mr. +Lander had made his money, and from what beginnings he rose to be +ignorant of what he really was worth when he died. She dwelt upon the +diseases they had suffered, and at the thought of his death, so +unnecessary in view of the good that the air was already doing her in +Europe, she shed tears. + +Lord Lioncourt was very polite, but there was no resumption of the ship's +comradery in his manner. Clementina could not know how quickly this +always drops from people who have been fellow-passengers; and she +wondered if he were guarding himself from her because she had danced at +the charity entertainment. The poison which Mrs. Milray had instilled +worked in her thoughts while she could not help seeing how patient he was +with all Mrs. Lander's questions; he answered them with a simplicity of +his own, or laughed and put them by, when they were quite impossible. +Many of them related to the comparative merits of English and American +railroads, and what he thought himself of these. Mrs. Lander noted the +difference of the English stations; but she did not see much in the +landscape to examine him upon. She required him to tell her why the rooks +they saw were not crows, and she was not satisfied that he should say the +country seat she pointed out was a castle when it was plainly deficient +in battlements. She based upon his immovable confidence in respect to it +an inquiry into the structure of English society, and she made him tell +her what a lord was, and a commoner, and how the royal family differed +from both. She asked him how he came to be a lord, and when he said that +it was a peerage of George the Third's creation, she remembered that +George III. was the one we took up arms against. She found that Lord +Lioncourt knew of our revolution generally, but was ignorant of such +particulars as the Battle of Bunker Hill, and the Surrender of +Cornwallis, as well as the throwing of the Tea into Boston Harbor; he was +much struck by this incident, and said, And quite right, he was sure. + +He told Clementina that her friends the Milrays had taken the steamer for +London in the morning. He believed they were going to Egypt for the +winter. Cairo, he said, was great fun, and he advised Mrs. Lander, if she +found Florence a bit dull, to push on there. She asked if it was an easy +place to get to, and he assured her that it was very easy from Italy. + +Mrs. Lander was again at home in her world of railroads and hotels; but +she confessed, after he left them at the next station, that she should +have felt more at home if he had been going on to London with them. She +philosophized him to the disadvantage of her own countrymen as much less +offish than a great many New York and Boston people. He had given her a +good opinion of the whole English nation; and the clergyman, who had been +so nice to them at Liverpool, confirmed her friendly impressions of +England by getting her a small omnibus at the station in London before he +got a cab for himself and his wife, and drove away to complete his own +journey on another road. She celebrated the omnibus as if it were an +effect of his goodness in her behalf. She admired its capacity for +receiving all their trunks, and saving the trouble and delay of the +express, which always vexed her so much in New York, and which had nearly +failed in getting her baggage to the steamer in time. + +The omnibus remained her chief association with London, for she decided +to take the first through train for Italy in the morning. She wished to +be settled, by which she meant placed in a Florentine hotel for the +winter. That lord, as she now began and always continued to call +Lioncourt, had first given her the name of the best little hotel in +Florence, but as it had neither elevator nor furnace heat in it, he +agreed in the end that it would not do for her, and mentioned the most +modern and expensive house on the Lungarno. He told her he did not think +she need telegraph for rooms; but she took this precaution before leaving +London, and was able to secure them at a price which seemed to her quite +as much as she would have had to pay for the same rooms at a first class +hotel on the Back Bay. + +The manager had reserved for her one of the best suites, which had just +been vacated by a Russian princess. "I guess you better cable to your +folks where you ah', Clementina," she said. "Because if you're satisfied, +I am, and I presume we sha'n't want to change as long as we stay in +Florence. My, but it's sightly!" She joined Clementina a moment at the +windows looking upon the Arno, and the hills beyond it. "I guess you'll +spend most of your time settin' at this winder, and I sha'n't blame you." + +They had arrived late in the dull, soft winter afternoon. The landlord +led the way himself to their apartment, and asked if they would have +fire; a facchino came in and kindled roaring blazes on the hearths; at +the same time a servant lighted all the candles on the tables and +mantels. They both gracefully accepted the fees that Mrs. Lander made +Clementina give them; the facchino kissed the girl's hand. "My!" said +Mrs. Lander, "I guess you never had your hand kissed before." + +The hotel developed advantages which, if not those she was used to, were +still advantages. The halls were warmed by a furnace, and she came to +like the little logs burning in her rooms. In the care of her own fire, +she went back to the simple time of her life in the country, and chose to +kindle it herself when it died out, with the fagots of broom that blazed +up so briskly. + +In the first days of her stay she made inquiry for the best American +doctor in Florence; and she found him so intelligent that she at once put +her liver in his charge, with a history of her diseases and symptoms of +every kind. She told him that she was sure that he could have cured Mr. +Lander, if he had only had him in time; she exacted a new prescription +from him for herself, and made him order some quinine pills for +Clementina against the event of her feeling debilitated by the air of +Florence. + + + + +XX. + +In these first days a letter came to Clementina from Mrs. Lander's +banker, enclosing the introduction which Mrs. Milray had promised to her +sister-in-law. It was from Mr. Milray, as before, and it was in Mrs. +Milray's handwriting; but no message from her came with it. To Clementina +it explained itself, but she had to explain it to Mrs. Lander. She had to +tell her of Mrs. Milray's behavior after the entertainment on the +steamer, and Mrs. Lander said that Clementina had done just exactly +right; and they both decided, against some impulses of curiosity in +Clementina's heart, that she should not make use of the introduction. + +The 'Hotel des Financieres' was mainly frequented by rich Americans full +of ready money, and by rich Russians of large credit. Better Americans +and worse, went, like the English, to smaller and cheaper hotels; and +Clementina's acquaintance was confined to mothers as shy and +ungrammatical as Mrs. Lander herself, and daughters blankly indifferent +to her. Mrs. Lander drove out every day when it did not rain, and she +took Clementina with her, because the doctor said it would do them both +good; but otherwise the girl remained pent in their apartment. The doctor +found her a teacher, and she kept on with her French, and began to take +lessons in Italian; she spoke with no one but her teacher, except when +the doctor came. At the table d'hote she heard talk of the things that +people seemed to come to Florence for: pictures, statues, palaces, famous +places; and it made her ashamed of not knowing about them. But she could +not go to see these things alone, and Mrs. Lander, in the content she +felt with all her circumstances, seemed not to suppose that Clementina +could care for anything but the comfort of the hotel and the doctor's +visits. When the girl began to get letters from home in answer to the +first she had written back, boasting how beautiful Florence was, they +assumed that she was very gay, and demanded full accounts of her +pleasures. Her brother Jim gave something of the village news, but he +said he supposed that she would not care for that, and she would probably +be too proud to speak to them when she came home. The Richlings had +called in to share the family satisfaction in Clementina's first +experiences, and Mrs. Richling wrote her very sweetly of their happiness +in them. She charged her from the rector not to forget any chance of +self-improvement in the allurements of society, but to make the most of +her rare opportunities. She said that they had got a guide-book to +Florence, with a plan of the city, and were following her in the +expeditions they decided she must be making every day; they were reading +up the Florentine history in Sismondi's Italian Republics, and she bade +Clementina be sure and see all the scenes of Savonarola's martyrdom, so +that they could talk them over together when she returned. + +Clementina wondered what Mrs. Richling would think if she told her that +all she knew of Florence was what she overheard in the talk of the girls +in the hotel, who spoke before her of their dances and afternoon teas, +and evenings at the opera, and drives in the Cascine, and parties to +Fiesole, as if she were not by. + +The days and weeks passed, until Carnival was half gone, and Mrs. Lander +noticed one day that Clementina appeared dull. "You don't seem to get +much acquainted?" she suggested. + +"Oh, the'e's plenty of time," said Clementina. + +"I wish the'e was somebody you could go round with, and see the place. +Shouldn't you like to see the place?" Mrs. Lander pursued. + +"There's no hurry about it, Mrs. Lander. It will stay as long as we do." + +Mrs. Lander was thoughtfully silent. Then she said, "I declare, I've got +half a mind to make you send that letta to Miss Milray, after all. What +difference if Mrs. Milray did act so ugly to you? He never did, and she's +his sista." + +"Oh, I don't want to send it, Mrs. Landa; you mustn't ask me to. I shall +get along," said Clementina. The recognition of her forlornness deepened +it, but she was cheerfuller, for no reason, the next morning; and that +afternoon, the doctor unexpectedly came upon a call which he made haste +to say was not professional. + +"I've just come from another patient of mine, and I promised to ask if +you had not crossed on the same ship with a brother of hers,--Mr. +Milray." + +Celementina and Mrs. Lander looked guiltily at each other. "I guess we +did," Mrs. Lander owned at last, with a reluctant sigh. + +"Then, she says you have a letter for her." + +The doctor spoke to both, but his looks confessed that he was not +ignorant of the fact when Mrs. Lander admitted, "Well Clementina, he'e, +has." + +"She wants to know why you haven't delivered it," the doctor blurted out. + +Mrs. Lander looked at Clementina. "I guess she ha'n't quite got round to +it yet, have you, Clementina?" + +The doctor put in: "Well, Miss Milray is rather a dangerous person to +keep waiting. If you don't deliver it pretty soon, I shouldn't be +surprised if she came to get it." Dr. Welwright was a young man in the +early thirties, with a laugh that a great many ladies said had done more +than any one thing for them, and he now prescribed it for Clementina. But +it did not seem to help her in the trouble her face betrayed. + +Mrs. Lander took the word, "Well, I wouldn't say it to everybody. But +you're our doctor, and I guess you won't mind it. We don't like the way +Mrs. Milray acted to Clementina, in the ship, and we don't want to be +beholden to any of her folks. I don't know as Clementina wants me to tell +you just what it was, and I won't; but that's the long and sho't of it." + +"I'm sorry," the doctor said. "I've never met Mrs. Milray, but Miss +Milray has such a pleasant house, and likes to get young people about +her. There are a good many young people in your hotel, though, and I +suppose you all have a very good time here together." He ended by +speaking to Clementina, and now he said he had done his errand, and must +be going. + +When he was gone, Mrs. Lander faltered, "I don't know but what we made a +mistake, Clementina." + +"It's too late to worry about it now," said the girl. + +"We ha'n't bound to stay in Florence," said Mrs. Lander, thoughtfully. "I +only took the rooms by the week, and we can go, any time, Clementina, if +you are uncomf'table bein' here on Miss Milray's account. We could go to +Rome; they say Rome's a nice place; or to Egypt." + +"Mrs. Milray's in Egypt," Clementina suggested. + +"That's true," Mrs. Lander admitted, with a sigh. After a while she went +on, "I don't know as we've got any right to keep the letter. It belongs +to her, don't it?" + +"I guess it belongs to me, as much as it does to her," said Clementina. +"If it's to her, it's for me. I am not going to send it, Mrs. Landa." + +They were still in this conclusion when early in the following afternoon +Miss Milray's cards were brought up for Mrs. Lander and Miss Claxon. + +"Well, I decla'e!" cried Mrs. Lander. "That docta: must have gone +straight and told her what we said." + +"He had no right to," said Clementina, but neither of them was +displeased, and after it was over, Mrs. Lander said that any one would +have thought the call was for her, instead of Clementina, from the way +Miss Milray kept talking to her. She formed a high opinion of her; and +Miss Milray put Clementina in mind of Mr. Milray; she had the same hair +of chiseled silver, and the same smile; she moved like him, and talked +like him; but with a greater liveliness. She asked fondly after him, and +made Clementina tell her if he seemed quite well, and in good spirits; +she was civilly interested in Mrs. Milray's health. At the embarrassment +which showed itself in the girl, she laughed and said, "Don't imagine I +don't know all about it, Miss Claxon! My sister-in-law has owned up very +handsomely; she isn't half bad, as the English say, and I think she likes +owning up if she can do it safely." + +"And you don't think," asked Mrs. Lander, "that Clementina done wrong to +dance that way?" + +Clementina blushed, and Miss Milray laughed again. "If you'll let Miss +Claxon come to a little party I'm giving she may do her dance at my +house; but she sha'n't be obliged to do it, or anything she doesn't like. +Don't say she hasn't a gown ready, or something of that kind! You don't +know the resources of Florence, and how the dress makers here doat upon +doing impossible things in no time at all, and being ready before they +promise. If you'll put Miss Claxon in my hands, I'll see that she's +dressed for my dance. I live out on one of the hills over there, that you +see from your windows"--she nodded toward them--"in a beautiful villa, +too cold for winter, and too hot for summer, but I think Miss Claxon can +endure its discomfort for a day, if you can spare her, and she will +consent to leave you to the tender mercies of your maid, and--" Miss Milray +paused at the kind of unresponsive blank to which she found herself +talking, and put up her lorgnette, to glance from Mrs. Lander to +Clementina. The girl said, with embarrassment, "I don't think I ought to +leave Mrs. Landa, just now. She isn't very well, and I shouldn't like to +leave her alone." + +"But we're just as much obliged to you as if she could come," Mrs. Lander +interrupted; "and later on, maybe she can. You see, we han't got any +maid, yit. Well, we did have one at Woodlake, but she made us do so many +things for her, that we thought we should like to do a few things for +ouaselves, awhile." + +If Miss Milray perhaps did not conceive the situation, exactly, she said, +Oh, they were quite right in that; but she might count upon Miss Claxon +for her dance, might not she; and might not she do anything in her power +for them? She rose to go, but Mrs. Lander took her at her word, so far as +to say, Why, yes, if she could tell Clementina the best place to get a +dress she guessed the child would be glad enough to come to the dance. + +"Tell her!" Miss Milray cried. "I'll take her! Put on your hat, my dear," +she said to Clementina, "and come with me now. My carriage is at your +door." + +Clementina looked at Mrs. Lander, who said, "Go, of cou'se, child. I wish +I could go, too." + +"Do come, too," Miss Milray entreated. + +"No, no," said Mrs. Lander, flattered. "I a'n't feeling very well, +to-day. I guess I'm better off at home. But don't you hurry back on my +account, Clementina." While the girl was gone to put on her hat she +talked on about her. "She's the best gul in the wo'ld, and she won't be +one of the poorest; and I shall feel that I'm doin' just what Mr. Landa +would have wanted I should. He picked her out himself, moa than three +yea's ago, when we was drivin' past her house at Middlemount, and it was +to humor him afta he was gone, moa than anything else, that I took her. +Well, she wa'n't so very easy to git, either, I can tell you." She cut +short her history of the affair to say when Clementina came back, "I want +you should do the odderin' yourself, Miss Milray, and not let her scrimp +with the money. She wants to git some visitin' cahds; and if you miss +anything about her that she'd ought to have, or that any otha yong lady's +got, won't you just git it for her?" + +As soon as she imagined the case, Miss Milray set herself to overcome +Mrs. Lander's reluctance from a maid. She prevailed with her to try the +Italian woman whom she sent her, and in a day the genial Maddalena had +effaced the whole tradition of the bleak Ellida. It was not essential to +the understanding which instantly established itself between them that +they should have any language in common. They babbled at each other, Mrs. +Lander in her Bostonized Yankee, and Maddalena in her gutteral +Florentine, and Mrs. Lander was flattered to find how well she knew +Italian. + +Miss Milray had begun being nice to Clementina in fealty to her brother, +who so seldom made any proof of her devotion to him, and to whom she had +remained passionately true through his shady past. She was eager to humor +his whim for the little country girl who had taken his fancy, because it +was his whim, and not because she had any hopes that Clementina would +justify it. She had made Dr. Welwright tell her all he knew about her, +and his report of her grace and beauty had piqued her curiosity; his +account of the forlorn dullness of her life with Mrs. Lander in their +hotel had touched her heart. But she was still skeptical when she went to +get her letter of introduction; when she brought Clementina home from the +dressmaker's she asked if she might kiss her, and said she was already in +love with her. + +Her love might have made her wish to do everything for her that she now +began to do, but it simplified the situation to account for her to the +world as the ward of Mrs. Lander, who was as rich as she was vulgar, and +it was with Clementina in this character that Miss Milray began to make +the round of afternoon teas, and inspired invitations for her at pleasant +houses, by giving a young ladies' lunch for her at her own. Before the +night of her little dance, she had lost any misgiving she had felt at +first, in the delight of seeing Clementina take the world as if she had +thought it would always behave as amiably as that, and as if she had +forgotten her unkind experiences to the contrary. She knew from Mrs. +Lander how the girls at their hotel had left her out, but Miss Milray +could not see that Clementina met them with rancor, when her authority +brought them together. If the child was humiliated by her past in the +gross lonely luxury of Mrs. Lander's life or the unconscious poverty of +her own home, she did not show it in the presence of the world that now +opened its arms to her. She remained so tranquil in the midst of all the +novel differences, that it made her friend feel rather vulgar in her +anxieties for her, and it was not always enough to find that she had not +gone wrong simply because she had hold still, and had the gift of waiting +for things to happen. Sometimes when Miss Milray had almost decided that +her passivity was the calm of a savage, she betrayed so sweet and +grateful a sense of all that was done for her, that her benefactress +decided that she was not rustic, but was sylvan in a way of her own, and +not so much ignorant as innocent. She discovered that she was not +ignorant even of books, but with no literary effect from them she had +transmitted her reading into the substance of her native gentleness, and +had both ideas and convictions. When Clementina most affected her as an +untried wilderness in the conventional things she most felt her equality +to any social fortune that might befall her, and then she would have +liked to see her married to a title, and taking the glory of this world +with an unconsciousness that experience would never wholly penetrate. But +then again she felt that this would be somehow a profanation, and she +wanted to pack her up and get her back to Middlemount before anything of +the kind should happen. She gave Milray these impressions of Clementina +in the letter she wrote to thank him for her, and to scold him for +sending the girl to her. She accused him of wishing to get off on her a +riddle which he could not read himself; but she owned that the charm of +Clementina's mystery was worth a thousand times the fatigue of trying to +guess her out and that she was more and more infatuated with her every +day. + +In the meantime, Miss Milray's little dance grew upon her till it became +a very large one that filled her villa to overflowing when the time came +for it. She lived on one of the fine avenues of the Oltrarno region, laid +out in the brief period of prosperity which Florence enjoyed as the +capital of Italy. The villa was built at that time, and it was much newer +than the house on Seventeenth street in New York, where she spent the +girlhood that had since prolonged itself beyond middle life with her. She +had first lived abroad in the Paris of the Second Empire, and she had +been one winter in Rome, but she had settled definitely in Florence +before London became an American colony, so that her friends were chiefly +Americans, though she had a wide international acquaintance. Perhaps her +habit of taking her brother's part, when he was a black sheep, inclined +her to mercy with people who had not been so blameless in their morals as +they were in their minds and manners. She exacted that they should be +interesting and agreeable, and not too threadbare; but if they had +something that decently buttoned over the frayed places, she did not +frown upon their poverty. Bohemians of all kinds liked her; Philistines +liked her too; and in such a place as Florence, where the Philistines +themselves are a little Bohemian, she might be said to be very popular. +You met persons whom you did not quite wish to meet at her house, but if +these did not meet you there, it was your loss. + + + + +XI. + +On the night of the dance the line of private carriages, remises and +cabs, lined the Viale Ariosto for a mile up and down before her gates, +where young artists of both sexes arrived on foot. By this time her +passion for Clementina was at its height. She had Maddalena bring her out +early in the evening, and made her dress under her own eye and her French +maid's, while Maddalena went back to comfort Mrs. Lander. + +"I hated to leave her," said Clementina. "I don't believe she's very +well." + +"Isn't she always ill?" demanded Miss Milray. She embraced the girl +again, as if once were not enough. "Clementina, if Mrs. Lander won't give +you to me, I'm going to steal you. Do you know what I want you to do +tonight? I want you to stand up with me, and receive, till the dancing +begins, as if it were your coming-out. I mean to introduce everybody to +you. You'll be easily the prettiest girl, there, and you'll have the +nicest gown, and I don't mean that any of your charms shall be thrown +away. You won't be frightened?" + +"No, I don't believe I shall," said Clementina. "You can tell me what to +do." + +The dress she wore was of pale green, like the light seen in thin woods; +out of it shone her white shoulders, and her young face, as if rising +through the verdurous light. The artists, to a man and woman, wished to +paint her, and severally told her so, during the evening which lasted +till morning. She was not surprised when Lord Lioncourt appeared, toward +midnight, and astonished Miss Milray by claiming acquaintance with +Clementina. He asked about Mrs. Lander, and whether she had got to +Florence without losing the way; he laughed but he seemed really to care. +He took Clementina out to supper, when the time came; and she would have +topped him by half a head as she leaned on his arm, if she had not +considerately drooped and trailed a little after him. + +She could not know what a triumph he was making for her; and it was +merely part of the magic of the time that Mr. Ewins should come in +presently with one of the ladies. He had arrived in Florence that day, +and had to be brought unasked. He put on the effect of an old friend with +her; but Clementina's curiosity was chiefly taken with a tall American, +whom she thought very handsome. His light yellow hair was brushed smooth +across his forehead like a well-behaving boy's; he was dressed like the +other men, but he seemed not quite happy in his evening coat, and his +gloves which he smote together uneasily from time to time. He appeared to +think that somehow the radiant Clementina would know how he felt; he did +not dance, and he professed to have found himself at the party by a +species of accident. He told her that he was out in Europe looking after +a patent right that he had just taken hold of, and was having only a +middling good time. He pretended surprise to hear her say that she was +having a first-rate time, and he tried to reason her out of it. He +confessed that from the moment he came into the room he had made up his +mind to take her to supper, and had never been so disgusted in his life +as when he saw that little lord toddling off with her, and trying to look +as large as life. He asked her what a lord was like, anyway, and he made +her laugh all the time. + +He told her his name, G. W. Hinkle, and asked whether she would be likely +to remember it if they ever met again. + +Another man who interested her very much was a young Russian, with +curling hair and neat, small features who spoke better English than she +did, and said he was going to be a writer, but had not yet decided +whether to write in Russian or French; she supposed he had wanted her +advice, but he did not wait for it, or seem to expect it. He was very +much in earnest, while he fanned her, and his earnestness amused her as +much as the American's irony. He asked which city of America she came +from, and when she said none, he asked which part of America. She +answered New England, and he said, "Oh, yes, that is where they have the +conscience." She did not know what he meant, and he put before her the +ideal of New England girlhood which he had evolved from reading American +novels. "Are you like that?" he demanded. + +She laughed, and said, "Not a bit," and asked him if he had ever met such +an American girl, and he said, frankly, No; the American girls were all +mercenary, and cared for nothing but money, or marrying titles. He added +that he had a title, but he would not wear it. + +Clementina said she did not believe she cared for titles, and then he +said, "But you care for money." She denied it, but as if she had +confessed it, he went on: "The only American that I have seen with that +conscience was a man. I will tell you of him, if you wish." + +He did not wait for her answer. "It was in Naples--at Pompeii. I saw at +the first glance that he was different from other Americans, and I +resolved to know him. He was there in company with a stupid boy, whose +tutor he was; and he told me that he was studying to be a minister of the +Protestant church. Next year he will go home to be consecrated. He +promised to pass through Florence in the spring, and he will keep his +word. Every act, every word, every thought of his is regulated by +conscience. It is terrible, but it is beautiful." All the time, the +Russian was fanning Clementina, with every outward appearance of +flirtation. "Will you dance again? No? I should like to draw such a +character as his in a romance." + + + + +XXII. + +It was six o'clock in the morning before Miss Milray sent Clementina home +in her carriage. She would have kept her to breakfast, but Clementina +said she ought to go on Mrs. Lander's account, and she wished to go on +her own. + +She thought she would steal to bed without waking her, but she was +stopped by the sound of groans when she entered their apartment; the +light gushed from Mrs. Lander's door. Maddalena came out, and blessed the +name of her Latin deity (so much more familiar and approachable than the +Anglo-Saxon divinity) that Clementina had come at last, and poured upon +her the story of a night of suffering for Mrs. Lander. Through her story +came the sound of Mrs. Lander's voice plaintively reproachful, summoning +Clementina to her bedside. "Oh, how could you go away and leave me? I've +been in such misery the whole night long, and the docta didn't do a thing +for me. I'm puffectly wohn out, and I couldn't make my wants known with +that Italian crazy-head. If it hadn't been for the portyary comin' in and +interpretin', when the docta left, I don't know what I should have done. +I want you should give him a twenty-leary note just as quick as you see +him; and oh, isn't the docta comin'?" + +Clementina set about helping Maddalena put the room, which was in an +impassioned disorder, to rights; and she made Mrs. Lander a cup of her +own tea, which she had brought from S. S. Pierces in passing through +Boston; it was the first thing, the sufferer said, that had saved her +life. Clementina comforted her, and promised her that the doctor should +be there very soon; and before Mrs. Lander fell away to sleep, she was so +far out of danger as to be able to ask how Clementina had enjoyed +herself, and to be glad that she had such a good time. + +The doctor would not wake her when he came; he said that she had been +through a pretty sharp gastric attack, which would not recur, if she ate +less of the most unwholesome things she could get, and went more into the +air, and walked a little. He did not seem alarmed, and he made Clementina +tell him about the dance, which he had been called from to Mrs. Lander's +bed of pain. He joked her for not having missed him; in the midst of +their fun, she caught herself in the act of yawning, and the doctor +laughed, and went away. + +Maddalena had to call her, just before dinner, when Mrs. Lander had been +awake long enough to have sent for the doctor to explain the sort of gone +feeling which she was now the victim of. It proved, when he came, to be +hunger, and he prescribed tea and toast and a small bit of steak. Before +he came she had wished to arrange for going home at once, and dying in +her own country. But his opinion so far prevailed with her that she +consented not to telegraph for berths. "I presume," she said, "it'll do, +any time before the icebugs begin to run. But I d' know, afta this, +Clementina, as I can let you leave me quite as you be'n doin'. There was +a lot of flowas come for you, this aftanoon, but I made Maddalena put 'em +on the balcony, for I don't want you should get poisoned with 'em in your +sleep; I always head they was dangerous in a person's 'bed room. I d' +know as they are, eitha." + +Maddalena seemed to know that Mrs. Lander was speaking of the flowers. +She got them and gave them to Clementina, who found they were from some +of the men she had danced with. Mr. Hinkle had sent a vast bunch of +violets, which presently began to give out their sweetness in the warmth +of the room, and the odor brought him before her with his yellow hair, +scrupulously parted at the side, and smoothly brushed, showing his +forehead very high up. Most of the gentlemen wore their hair parted in +the middle, or falling in a fringe over their brows; the Russian's was +too curly to part, and Lord Lioncourt had none except at the sides. + +She laughed, and Mrs. Lander said, "Tell about it, Clementina," and she +began with Mr. Hinkle, and kept coming back to him from the others. Mrs. +Lander wished most to know how that lord had got down to Florence; and +Clementina said he was coming to see her. + +"Well, I hope to goodness he won't come to-day, I a'n't fit to see +anybody." + +"Oh, I guess he won't come till to-morrow," said Clementina; she repeated +some of the compliments she had got, and she told of all Miss Milray's +kindness to her, but Mrs. Lander said, "Well, the next time, I'll thank +her not to keep you so late." She was astonished to hear that Mr. Ewins +was there, and "Any of the nasty things out of the hotel the'e?" she +asked. + +"Yes," Clementina said, "the'e we'e, and some of them we'e very nice. +They wanted to know if I wouldn't join them, and have an aftanoon of our +own here in the hotel, so that people could come to us all at once." + +She went back to the party, and described the rest of it. When she came +to the part about the Russian, she told what he had said of American +girls being fond of money, and wanting to marry foreign noblemen. + +Mrs. Lander said, "Well, I hope you a'n't a going to get married in a +hurry, anyway, and when you do I hope you'll pick out a nice American." + +"Oh, yes," said Clementina. + +Mrs. Lander had their dinner brought to their apartment. She cheered up, +and she was in some danger of eating too much, but with Clementina's help +she denied herself. Their short evening was one of the gayest; Clementina +declared she was not the least sleepy, but she went to bed at nine, and +slept till nine the next day. + +Mrs. Lander, the doctor confessed, the second morning, was more shaken up +by her little attack than he had expected; but she decided to see the +gentleman who had asked to call on Clementina. Lord Lioncourt did not +come quite so soon as she was afraid he might, and when he came he talked +mostly to Clementina. He did not get to Mrs. Lander until just before he +was going. She hospitably asked him what his hurry was, and then he said +that he was off for Rome, that evening at seven. He was nice about hoping +she was comfortable in the hotel, and he sympathized with her in her wish +that there was a set-bowl in her room; she told him that she always tried +to have one, and he agreed that it must be very convenient where any one +was, as she said, sick so much. + +Mr. Hinkle came a day later; and then it appeared that he had a mother +whose complaints almost exactly matched Mrs. Lander's. He had her +photograph with him, and showed it; he said if you had no wife to carry +round a photograph of, you had better carry your mother's; and Mrs. +Lander praised him for being a good son. A good son, she added, always +made a good husband; and he said that was just what he told the young +ladies himself, but it did not seem to make much impression on them. He +kept Clementina laughing; and he pretended that he was going to bring a +diagram of his patent right for her to see, because she would be +interested in a gleaner like that; and he said he wished her father could +see it, for it would be sure to interest the kind of man Mrs. Lander +described him to be. "I'll be along up there just about the time you get +home, Miss Clementina. When did you say it would be?" + +"I don't know; pretty ea'ly in the spring, I guess." + +She looked at Mrs. Lander, who said, "Well, it depends upon how I git up +my health. I couldn't bea' the voyage now." + +Mr. Hinkle said, "No, best look out for your health, if it takes all +summer. I shouldn't want you to hurry on my account. Your time is my +time. All I want is for Miss Clementina, here, to personally conduct me +to her father. If I could get him to take hold of my gleaner in New +England, we could make the blueberry crop worth twice what it is." + +Mrs. Lander perceived that he was joking; and she asked what he wanted to +run away for when the young Russian's card came up. He said, "Oh, give +every man a chance," and he promised that he would look in every few +days, and see how she was getting along. He opened the door after he had +gone out, and put his head in to say in confidence to Mrs. Lander, but so +loud that Clementina could hear, "I suppose she's told you who the belle +of the ball was, the other night? Went out to supper with a lord!" He +seemed to think a lord was such a good joke that if you mentioned one you +had to laugh. + +The Russian's card bore the name Baron Belsky, with the baron crossed out +in pencil, and he began to attack in Mrs. Lander the demerits of the +American character, as he had divined them. He instructed her that her +countrymen existed chiefly to make money; that they were more shopkeepers +than the English and worse snobs; that their women were trivial and their +men sordid; that their ambition was to unite their families with the +European aristocracies; and their doctrine of liberty and equality was a +shameless hypocrisy. This followed hard upon her asking, as she did very +promptly, why he had scratched out the title on his card. He told her +that he wished to be known solely as an artist, and he had to explain to +her that he was not a painter, but was going to be a novelist. She taxed +him with never having been in America, but he contended that as all +America came to Europe he had the materials for a study of the national +character at hand, without the trouble of crossing the ocean. In return +she told him that she had not been the least sea-sick during the voyage, +and that it was no trouble at all; then he abruptly left her and went +over to beg a cup of tea from Clementina, who sat behind the kettle by +the window. + +"I have heard this morning from that American I met in Pompeii" he began. +"He is coming northward, and I am going down to meet him in Rome." + +Mrs. Lander caught the word, and called across the room, "Why, a'n't that +whe'e that lo'd's gone?" + +Clementina said yes, and while the kettle boiled, she asked if Baron +Belsky were going soon. + +"Oh, in a week or ten days, perhaps. I shall know when he arrives. Then I +shall go. We write to each other every day." He drew a letter from his +breast pocket. "This will give you the idea of his character," and he +read, "If we believe that the hand of God directs all our actions, how +can we set up our theories of conduct against what we feel to be his +inspiration?" + +"What do you think of that?" he demanded. + +"I don't believe that God directs our wrong actions," said Clementina. + +"How! Is there anything outside of God? + +"I don't know whether there is or not. But there is something that tempts +me to do wrong, sometimes, and I don't believe that is God." + +The Russian seemed struck. "I will write that to him!" + +"No," said Clementina, "I don't want you to say anything about me to +him." + +"No, no!" said Baron Belsky, waving his band reassuringly. "I would not +mention your name!" + +Mr. Ewins came in, and the Russian said he must go. Mrs. Lander tried to +detain him, too, as she had tried to keep Mr. Hinkle, but he was +inexorable. Mr. Ewins looked at the door when it had closed upon him. +Mrs. Lander said, "That is one of the gentlemen that Clementina met the +otha night at the dance. He is a baron, but he scratches it out. You'd +ought to head him go on about Americans." + +"Yes," said Mr. Ewins coldly. "He's at our hotel, and he airs his +peculiar opinions at the table d'hote pretty freely. He's a revolutionist +of some kind, I fancy." He pronounced the epithet with an abhorrence +befitting the citizen of a state born of revolution and a city that had +cradled the revolt. "He's a Nihilist, I believe." + +Mrs. Lander wished to know what that was, and he explained that it was a +Russian who wanted to overthrow the Czar, and set up a government of the +people, when they were not prepared for liberty. + +"Then, maybe he isn't a baron at all," said Mrs. Lander. + +"Oh, I believe he has a right to his title," Ewins answered. "It's a +German one." + +He said he thought that sort of man was all the more mischievous on +account of his sincerity. He instanced a Russian whom a friend of his +knew in Berlin, a man of rank like this fellow: he got to brooding upon +the condition of working people and that kind of thing, till he renounced +his title and fortune and went to work in an iron foundry. + +Mr. Ewins also spoke critically of Mrs. Milray. He had met her in Egypt; +but you soon exhausted the interest of that kind of woman. He professed a +great concern that Clementina should see Florence in just the right way, +and he offered his services in showing her the place. + +The Russian came the next day, and almost daily after that, in the +interest with which Clementina's novel difference from other American +girls seemed to inspire him. His imagination had transmuted her simple +Yankee facts into something appreciable to a Slav of his temperament. He +conceived of her as the daughter of a peasant, whose beauty had charmed +the widow of a rich citizen, and who was to inherit the wealth of her +adoptive mother. He imagined that the adoption had taken place at a much +earlier period than the time when Clementina's visit to Mrs. Lander +actually began, and that all which could be done had been done to efface +her real character by indulgence and luxury. + +His curiosity concerning her childhood, her home, her father and mother, +her brothers and sisters, and his misunderstanding of everything she told +him, amused her. But she liked him, and she tried to give him some notion +of the things he wished so much to know. It always ended in a +dissatisfaction, more or less vehement, with the outcome of American +conditions as he conceived them. + +"But you," he urged one day, "you who are a daughter of the fields and +woods, why should you forsake that pure life, and come to waste yourself +here?" + +"Why, don't you think it's very nice in Florence?" she asked, with eyes +of innocent interest. + +"Nice! Nice! Do we live for what is nice? Is it enough that you have what +you Americans call a nice time?" + +Clementina reflected. "I wasn't doing much of anything at home, and I +thought I might as well come with Mrs. Lander, if she wanted me so much." +She thought in a certain way, that he was meddling with what was not his +affair, but she believed that he was sincere in his zeal for the ideal +life he wished her to lead, and there were some things she had heard +about him that made her pity and respect him; his self-exile and his +renunciation of home and country for his principles, whatever they were; +she did not understand exactly. She would not have liked never being able +to go back to Middlemount, or to be cut off from all her friends as this +poor young Nihilist was, and she said, now, "I didn't expect that it was +going to be anything but a visit, and I always supposed we should go back +in the spring; but now Mrs. Lander is beginning to think she won't be +well enough till fall." + +"And why need you stay with her?" + +"Because she's not very well," answered Clementina, and she smiled, a +little triumphantly as well as tolerantly. + +"She could hire nurses and doctors, all she wants with her money." + +"I don't believe it would be the same thing, exactly, and what should I +do if I went back?" + +"Do? Teach! Uplift the lives about you." + +"But you say it is better for people to live simply, and not read and +think so much." + +"Then labor in the fields with them." + +Clementina laughed outright. "I guess if anyone saw me wo'king in the +fields they would think I was a disgrace to the neighbahood." + +Belsky gave her a stupified glare through his spectacles. "I cannot +undertand you Americans." + +"Well, you must come ova to America, then, Mr. Belsky"--he had asked her +not to call him by his title--"and then you would." + +"No, I could not endure the disappointment. You have the great +opportunity of the earth. You could be equal and just, and simple and +kind. There is nothing to hinder you. But all you try to do is to get +more and more money." + +"Now, that isn't faia, Mr. Belsky, and you know it." + +"Well, then, you joke, joke--always joke. Like that Mr. Hinkle. He wants +to make money with his patent of a gleaner, that will take the last grain +of wheat from the poor, and he wants to joke--joke!" + +Clementina said, "I won't let you say that about Mr. Hinkle. You don't +know him, or you wouldn't. If he jokes, why shouldn't he?" + +Belsky made a gesture of rejection. "Oh, you are an American, too." + +She had not grown less American, certainly, since she had left home; even +the little conformities to Europe that she practiced were traits of +Americanism. Clementina was not becoming sophisticated, but perhaps she +was becoming more conventionalized. The knowledge of good and evil in +things that had all seemed indifferently good to her once, had crept upon +her, and she distinguished in her actions. She sinned as little as any +young lady in Florence against the superstitions of society; but though +she would not now have done a skirt-dance before a shipful of people, she +did not afflict herself about her past errors. She put on the world, but +she wore it simply and in most matters unconsciously. Some things were +imparted to her without her asking or wishing, and merely in virtue of +her youth and impressionability. She took them from her environment +without knowing it, and in this way she was coming by an English manner +and an English tone; she was only the less American for being rather +English without trying, when other Americans tried so hard. In the region +of harsh nasals, Clementina had never spoken through her nose, and she +was now as unaffected in these alien inflections as in the tender cooings +which used to rouse the misgivings of her brother Jim. When she was with +English people she employed them involuntarily, and when she was with +Americans she measurably lost them, so that after half an hour with Mr. +Hinkle, she had scarcely a trace of them, and with Mrs. Lander she always +spoke with her native accent. + + + + +XXIII + +One Sunday night, toward the end of Lent, Mrs. Lander had another of her +attacks; she now began to call them so as if she had established an +ownership in them. It came on from her cumulative over-eating, again, but +the doctor was not so smiling as he had been with regard to the first. +Clementina had got ready to drive out to Miss Milray's for one of her +Sunday teas, but she put off her things, and prepared to spend the night +at Mrs. Lander's bedside. "Well, I should think you would want to," said +the sufferer. "I'm goin' to do everything for you, and you'd ought to be +willing to give up one of youa junketin's for me. I'm sure I don't know +what you see in 'em, anyway." + +"Oh, I am willing, Mrs. Lander; I'm glad I hadn't stahted before it +began." Clementina busied herself with the pillows under Mrs. Lander's +dishevelled head, and the bedclothes disordered by her throes, while Mrs. +Lander went on. + +"I don't see what's the use of so much gaddin', anyway. I don't see as +anything comes of it, but just to get a passal of wo'thless fellas afta +you that think you'a going to have money. There's such a thing as two +sides to everything, and if the favas is goin' to be all on one side I +guess there'd betta be a clear undastandin' about it. I think I got a +right to a little attention, as well as them that ha'n't done anything; +and if I'm goin' to be left alone he'e to die among strangers every time +one of my attacks comes on--" + +The doctor interposed, "I don't think you're going to have a very bad +attack, this time, Mrs. Lander." + +"Oh, thank you, thank you, docta! But you can undastand, can't you, how I +shall want to have somebody around that can undastand a little English?" + +The doctor said, "Oh yes. And Miss Claxon and I can understand a good +deal, between us, and we're going to stay, and see how a little morphine +behaves with you." + +Mrs. Lander protested, "Oh, I can't bea' mo'phine, docta." + +"Did you ever try it?" he asked, preparing his little instrument to +imbibe the solution. + +"No; but Mr. Landa did, and it 'most killed him; it made him sick." + +"Well, you're about as sick as you can be, now, Mrs. Lander, and if you +don't die of this pin-prick"--he pushed the needle-point under the skin +of her massive fore-arm--"I guess you'll live through it." + +She shrieked, but as the pain began to abate, she gathered courage, and +broke forth joyfully. "Why, it's beautiful, a'n't it? I declare it wo'ks +like a cha'm. Well, I shall always keep mo'phine around after this, and +when I feel one of these attacks comin' on--" + +"Send for a physician, Mrs. Lander," said Dr. Welwright, "and he'll know +what to do." + +"I an't so sure of that," returned Mrs. Lander fondly. "He would if you +was the one. I declare I believe I could get up and walk right off, I +feel so well." + +"That's good. If you'll take a walk day after tomorrow it will help you a +great deal more." + +"Well, I shall always say that you've saved my life, this time, doctor; +and Clementina she's stood by, nobly; I'll say that for her." She twisted +her big head round on the pillow to get sight of the girl. "I'm all +right, now; and don't you mind what I said. It's just my misery talkin'; +I don't know what I did say; I felt so bad. But I'm fustrate, now, and I +believe I could drop off to sleep, this minute. Why don't you go to your +tea? You can, just as well as not!" + +"Oh, I don't want to go, now, Mrs. Lander; I'd ratha stay." + +"But there a'n't any more danger now, is the'e, docta?" Mrs. Lander +appealed. + +"No. There wasn't any danger before. But when you're quite yourself, I +want to have a little talk with you, Mrs. Lander, about your diet. We +must look after that." + +"Why, docta, that's what I do do, now. I eat all the healthy things I lay +my hands on, don't I, Clementina? And ha'n't you always at me about it?" + +Clementina did not answer, and the doctor laughed. "Well, I should like to +know what more I could do!" + +"Perhaps you could do less. We'll see about that. Better go to sleep, +now, if you feel like it." + +"Well, I will, if you'll make this silly child go to her tea. I s'pose +she won't because I scolded her. She's an awful hand to lay anything up +against you. You know you ah', Clementina! But I can say this, doctor: a +betta child don't breathe, and I just couldn't live without her. Come +he'e, Clementina, I want to kiss you once, before I go to sleep, so's to +make su'a you don't bea' malice." She pulled Clementina down to kiss her, +and babbled on affectionately and optimistically, till her talk became +the voice of her dreams, and then ceased altogether. + +"You could go, perfectly well, Miss Claxon," said the doctor. + +"No, I don't ca'e to go," answered Clementina. "I'd ratha stay. If she +should wake--" + +"She won't wake, until long after you've got back; I'll answer for that. +I'm going to stay here awhile. Go! I'll take the responsibility." + +Clementina's face brightened. She wanted very much to go. She should meet +some pleasant people; she always did, at Miss Milray's. Then the light +died out of her gay eyes, and she set her lips. "No, I told her I +shouldn't go." + +"I didn't hear you," said Dr. Welwright. "A doctor has no eyes and ears +except for the symptoms of his patients." + +"Oh, I know," said Clementina. She had liked Dr. Welwright from the +first, and she thought it was very nice of him to stay on, after he left +Mrs. Lander's bedside, and help to make her lonesome evening pass +pleasantly in the parlor. He jumped up finally, and looked at his watch. +"Bless my soul!" he said, and he went in for another look at Mrs. Lander. +When he came back, he said, "She's all right. But you've made me break an +engagement, Miss Claxon. I was going to tea at Miss Milray's. She +promised me I should meet you there." + +It seemed a great joke; and Clementina offered to carry his excuses to +Miss Milray, when she went to make her own. + +She went the next morning. Mrs. Lander insisted that she should go; she +said that she was not going to have Miss Milray thinking that she wanted +to keep her all to herself. + +Miss Milray kissed the girl in full forgiveness, but she asked, "Did Dr. +Welwright think it a very bad attack?" + +"Has he been he'a?" returned Clementina. + +Miss Milray laughed. "Doctors don't betray their patients--good doctors. +No, he hasn't been here, if that will help you. I wish it would help me, +but it won't, quite. I don't like to think of that old woman using you +up, Clementina." + +"Oh, she doesn't, Miss Milray. You mustn't think so. You don't know how +good she is to me." + +"Does she ever remind you of it?" + +Clementina's eyes fell. "She isn't like herself when she doesn't feel +well." + +"I knew it!" Miss Milray triumphed. "I always knew that she was a +dreadful old tabby. I wish you were safely out of her clutches. Come and +live with me, my dear, when Mrs. Lander gets tired of you. But she'll +never get tired of you. You're just the kind of helpless mouse that such +an old tabby would make her natural prey. But she sha'n't, even if +another sort of cat has to get you! I'm sorry you couldn't come last +night. Your little Russian was here, and went away early and very +bitterly because you didn't come. He seemed to think there was nobody, +and said so, in everything but words." + +"Oh!" said Clementina. "Don't you think he's very nice, Miss Milray?" + +"He's very mystical, or else so very simple that he seems so. I hope you +can make him out." + +Don't you think he's very much in ea'nest? + +"Oh, as the grave, or the asylum. I shouldn't like him to be in earnest +about me, if I were you." + +"But that's just what he is!" Clementina told how the Russian had +lectured her, and wished her to go back to the country and work in the +fields. + +"Oh, if that's all!" cried Miss Milray. "I was afraid it was another kind +of earnestness: the kind I shouldn't like if I were you." + +"There's no danger of that, I guess." Clementina laughed, and Miss Milray +went on: + +"Another of your admirers was here; but he was not so inconsolable, or +else he found consolation in staying on and talking about you, or +joking." + +"Oh, yes; Mr. Hinkle," cried Clementina with the smile that the thought +of him always brought. "He's lovely." + +"Lovely? Well, I don't know why it isn't the word. It suits him a great +deal better than some insipid girls that people give it to. Yes, I could +really fall in love with Mr. Hinkle. He's the only man I ever saw who +would know how to break the fall!" + +It was lunch-time before their talk had begun to run low, and it swelled +again over the meal. Miss Milray returned to Mrs. Lander, and she made +Clementina confess that she was a little trying sometimes. But she +insisted that she was always good, and in remorse she went away as soon +as Miss Milray rose from table. + +She found Mrs. Lander very much better, and willing to have had her stay +the whole afternoon with Miss Milray. "I don't want she should have +anything to say against me, to you, Clementina; she'd be glad enough to. +But I guess it's just as well you'a back. That scratched-out baron has +been he'e twice, and he's waitin' for you in the pahla', now. I presume +he'll keep comin' till you do see him. I guess you betta have it ova; +whatever it is." + +"I guess you're right, Mrs. Lander." + +Clementina found the Russian walking up and down the room, and as soon as +their greeting was over, he asked leave to continue his promenade, but he +stopped abruptly before her when she had sunk upon a sofa. + +"I have come to tell you a strange story," he said. + +"It is the story of that American friend of mine. I tell it to you +because I think you can understand, and will know what to advise, what to +do." + +He turned upon his heel, and walked the length of the room and back +before he spoke again. + +"Since several years," he said, growing a little less idiomatic in his +English as his excitement mounted, "he met a young girl, a child, when he +was still not a man's full age. It was in the country, in the mountains +of America, and--he loved her. Both were very poor; he, a student, +earning the means to complete his education in the university. He had +dedicated himself to his church, and with the temperament of the +Puritans, he forbade himself all thoughts of love. But he was of a +passionate and impulsive nature, and in a moment of abandon he confessed +his love. The child was bewildered, frightened; she shrank from his +avowal, and he, filled with remorse for his self-betrayal, bade her let +it be as if it had not been; he bade her think of him no more." + +Clementina sat as if powerless to move, staring at Belsky. He paused in +his walk, and allowed an impressive silence to ensue upon his words. + +"Time passed: days, months, years; and he did not see her again. He +pursued his studies in the university; at their completion, he entered +upon the course of divinity, and he is soon to be a minister of his +church. In all that time the image of the young girl has remained in his +heart, and has held him true to the only love he has ever known. He will +know no other while he lives." + +Again he stopped in front of Clementina; she looked helplessly up at him, +and he resumed his walk. + +"He, with his dreams of renunciation, of abnegation, had thought some day +to return to her and ask her to be his. He believed her capable of equal +sacrifice with himself, and he hoped to win her not for himself alone, +but for the religion which he put before himself. He would have invited +her to join her fate with his that they might go together on some mission +to the pagan--in the South Seas, in the heart of Africa, in the jungle of +India. He had always thought of her as gay but good, unworldly in soul, +and exalted in spirit. She has remained with him a vision of angelic +loveliness, as he had seen her last in the moonlight, on the banks of a +mountain torrent. But he believes that he has disgraced himself before +her; that the very scruple for her youth, her ignorance, which made him +entreat her to forget him, must have made her doubt and despise him. He +has never had the courage to write to her one word since all those years, +but he maintains himself bound to her forever." He stopped short before +Clementina and seized her hands. "If you knew such a girl, what would you +have her do? Should she bid him hope again? Would you have her say to him +that she, too, had been faithful to their dream, and that she too--" + +"Let me go, Mr. Belsky, let me go, I say!" Clementina wrenched her hands +from him, and ran out of the room. Belsky hesitated, then he found his +hat, and after a glance at his face in the mirror, left the house. + + + + +XXIV. + +The tide of travel began to set northward in April. Many English, many +Americans appeared in Florence from Naples and Rome; many who had +wintered in Florence went on to Venice and the towns of northern Italy, +on their way to Switzerland and France and Germany. + +The spring was cold and rainy, and the irresolute Italian railroads were +interrupted by the floods. A tawny deluge rolled down from the mountains +through the bed of the Arno, and kept the Florentine fire-department on +the alert night and day. "It is a curious thing about this country," said +Mr. Hinkle, encountering Baron Belsky on the Ponte Trinita, "that the +only thing they ever have here for a fire company to put out is a +freshet. If they had a real conflagration once, I reckon they would want +to bring their life-preservers." + +The Russian was looking down over the parapet at the boiling river. He +lifted his head as if he had not heard the American, and stared at him a +moment before he spoke. "It is said that the railway to Rome is broken at +Grossetto." + +"Well, I'm not going to Rome," said Hinkle, easily. "Are you?" + +"I was to meet a friend there; but he wrote to me that he was starting to +Florence, and now--" + +"He's resting on the way? Well, he'll get here about as quick as he would +in the ordinary course of travel. One good thing about Italy is, you +don't want to hurry; if you did, you'd get left." + +Belsky stared at him in the stupefaction to which the American humor +commonly reduced him. "If he gets left on the Grossetto line, he can go +back and come up by Orvieto, no?" + +"He can, if he isn't in a hurry," Hinkle assented. + +"It's a good way, if you've got time to burn." + +Belsky did not attempt to explore the American's meaning. "Do you know," +he asked, "whether Mrs. Lander and her young friend are still in +Florence? + +"I guess they are." + +"It was said they were going to Venice for the summer." + +"That's what the doctor advised for the old lady. But they don't start +for a week or two yet." + +"Oh!" + +"Are you going to Miss Milray's, Sunday night? Last of the season, I +believe." + +Belsky seemed to recall himself from a distance. + +"No--no," he said, and he moved away, forgetful of the ceremonious +salutation which he commonly used at meeting and parting. Hinkle looked +after him with the impression people have of a difference in the +appearance and behavior of some one whose appearance and behavior do not +particularly concern them. + +The day that followed, Belsky haunted the hotel where Gregory was to +arrive with his pupil, and where the pupil's family were waiting for +them. That night, long after their belated train was due, they came; the +pupil was with his father and mother, and Gregory was alone, when Belsky +asked for him, the fourth or fifth time. + +"You are not well," he said, as they shook hands. "You are fevered!" + +"I'm tired," said Gregory. "We've bad a bad time getting through." + +"I come inconveniently! You have not dined, perhaps?" + +"Yes, Yes. I've had dinner. Sit down. How have you been yourself?" + +"Oh, always well." Belsky sat down, and the friends stared at each other. +"I have strange news for you." + +"For me?" + +"You. She is here." + +"She?" + +"Yes. The young girl of whom you told me. If I had not forbidden myself by +my loyalty to you--if I had not said to myself every moment in her +presence, 'No, it is for your friend alone that she is beautiful and +good!'--But you will have nothing to reproach me in that regard." + +"What do you mean?" demanded Gregory. + +"I mean that Miss Claxon is in Florence, with her protectress, the rich +Mrs. Lander. The most admired young lady in society, going everywhere, +and everywhere courted and welcomed; the favorite of the fashionable Miss +Milray. But why should this surprise you?" + +"You said nothing about it in your letters. You--" + +"I was not sure it was she; you never told me her name. When I had +divined the fact, I was so soon to see you, that I thought best to keep +it till we met." + +Gregory tried to speak, but he let Belsky go on. + +"If you think that the world has spoiled her, that she will be different +from what she was in her home among your mountains, let me reassure you. +In her you will find the miracle of a woman whom no flattery can turn the +head. I have watched her in your interest; I have tested her. She is what +you saw her last." + +"Surely," asked Gregory, in an anguish for what he now dreaded, "you +haven't spoken to her of me?" + +"Not by name, no. I could not have that indiscretion--" + +"The name is nothing. Have you said that you knew me--Of course not! But +have you hinted at any knowledge--Because--" + +"You will hear!" said Belsky; and he poured out upon Gregory the story of +what he had done. "She did not deny anything. She was greatly moved, but +she did not refuse to let me bid you hope--" + +"Oh!" Gregory took his head between his hands. "You have spoiled my +life!" + +"Spoiled" Belsky stopped aghast. + +"I told you my story in a moment of despicable weakness--of impulsive +folly. But how could I dream that you would ever meet her? How could I +imagine that you would speak to her as you have done?" He groaned, and +began to creep giddily about the room in his misery. "Oh, oh, oh! What +shall I do?" + +"But I do not understand!" Belsky began. "If I have committed an error--" + +"Oh, an error that never could be put right in all eternity!" + +"Then let me go to her--let me tell her--" + +"Keep away from her!" shouted Gregory. "Do you hear? Never go near her +again!" + +"Gregory!" + +"Ah, I beg your pardon! I don't know what I'm doing--saying. What will she +think--what will she think of me!" He had ceased to speak to Belsky; he +collapsed into a chair, and hid his face in his arms stretched out on the +table before him. + +Belsky watched him in the stupefaction which the artistic nature feels +when life proves sentient under its hand, and not the mere material of +situations and effects. He could not conceive the full measure of the +disaster he had wrought, the outrage of his own behavior had been lost to +him in his preoccupation with the romantic end to be accomplished. He had +meant to be the friend, the prophet, to these American lovers, whom he +was reconciling and interpreting to each other; but in some point he must +have misunderstood. Yet the error was not inexpiable; and in his +expiation he could put the seal to his devotion. He left the room, where +Gregory made no effort to keep him. + +He walked down the street from the hotel to the Arno, and in a few +moments he stood on the bridge, where he had talked with that joker in +the morning, as they looked down together on the boiling river. He had a +strange wish that the joker might have been with him again, to learn that +there were some things which could not be joked away. + +The night was blustering, and the wind that blew the ragged clouds across +the face of the moon, swooped in sudden gusts upon the bridge, and the +deluge rolling under it and hoarsely washing against its piers. Belsky +leaned over the parapet and looked down into the eddies and currents as +the fitful light revealed them. He had a fantastic pleasure in studying +them, and choosing the moment when he should leap the parapet and be lost +in them. The incident could not be used in any novel of his, and no one +else could do such perfect justice to the situation, but perhaps +afterwards, when the facts leading to his death should be known through +the remorse of the lovers whom he had sought to serve, some other +artist-nature could distil their subtlest meaning in a memoir delicate as +the aroma of a faded flower. + +He was willing to make this sacrifice, too, and he stepped back a pace +from the parapet when the fitful blast caught his hat from his head, and +whirled it along the bridge. The whole current of his purpose changed, +and as if it had been impossible to drown himself in his bare head, he +set out in chase of his hat, which rolled and gamboled away, and escaped +from his clutch whenever he stooped for it, till a final whiff of wind +flung it up and tossed it over the bridge into the river, where he +helplessly watched it floating down the flood, till it was carried out of +sight. + + + + +XXV. + +Gregory did not sleep, and he did not find peace in the prayers he put up +for guidance. He tried to think of some one with whom he might take +counsel; but he knew no one in Florence except the parents of his pupil, +and they were impossible. He felt himself abandoned to the impulse which +he dreaded, in going to Clementina, and he went without hope, willing to +suffer whatever penalty she should visit upon him, after he had disavowed +Belsky's action, and claimed the responsibility for it. + +He was prepared for her refusal to see him; he had imagined her wounded +and pathetic; he had fancied her insulted and indignant; but she met him +eagerly and with a mystifying appeal in her welcome. He began at once, +without attempting to bridge the time since they had met with any +formalities. + +"I have come to speak to you about--that--Russian, about Baron Belsky--" + +"Yes, yes!" she returned, anxiously. "Then you have hea'd" + +"He came to me last night, and--I want to say that I feel myself to blame +for what he has done." + +"You?" + +"Yes; I. I never spoke of you by name to him; I didn't dream of his ever +seeing you, or that he would dare to speak to you of what I told him. But +I believe he meant no wrong; and it was I who did the harm, whether I +authorized it or not." + +"Yes, yes!" she returned, with the effect of putting his words aside as +something of no moment. "Have they head anything more?" + +"How, anything more?" he returned, in a daze. + +"Then, don't you know? About his falling into the river? I know he didn't +drown himself." + +Gregory shook his head. "When--what makes them think"--He stopped and +stared at her. + +"Why, they know that he went down to the Ponte Trinity last night; +somebody saw him going. And then that peasant found his hat with his name +in it in the drift-wood below the Cascine--" + +"Yes," said Gregory, lifelessly. He let his arms drop forward, and his +helpless hands hang over his knees; his gaze fell from her face to the +floor. + +Neither spoke for a time that seemed long, and then it was Clementina who +spoke. "But it isn't true!" + +"Oh, yes, it is," said Gregory, as before. + +"Mr. Hinkle doesn't believe it is," she urged. + +"Mr. Hinkle?" + +"He's an American who's staying in Florence. He came this mo'ning to tell +me about it. Even if he's drowned Mr. Hinkle believes he didn't mean to; +he must have just fallen in." + +"What does it matter?" demanded Gregory, lifting his heavy eyes. "Whether +he meant it or not, I caused it. I drove him to it." + +"You drove him?" + +"Yes. He told me what he had said to you, and I--said that he had spoiled +my life--I don't know!" + +"Well, he had no right to do it; but I didn't blame you," Clementina +began, compassionately. + +"It's too late. It can't be helped now." Gregory turned from the mercy +that could no longer save him. He rose dizzily, and tried to get himself +away. + +"You mustn't go!" she interposed. "I don't believe you made him do it. +Mr. Hinkle will be back soon, and he will--" + +"If he should bring word that it was true?" Gregory asked. + +"Well," said Clementina, "then we should have to bear it." + +A sense of something finer than the surface meaning of her words pierced +his morbid egotism. "I'm ashamed," he said. "Will you let me stay?" + +"Why, yes, you must," she said, and if there was any censure of him at +the bottom of her heart, she kept it there, and tried to talk him away +from his remorse, which was in his temperament, perhaps, rather than his +conscience; she made the time pass till there came a knock at the door, +and she opened it to Hinkle. + +"I didn't send up my name; I thought I wouldn't stand upon ceremony just +now," he said. + +"Oh, no!" she returned. "Mr. Hinkle, this is Mr. Gregory. Mr. Gregory +knew Mr. Belsky, and he thinks--" + +She turned to Gregory for prompting, and he managed to say, "I don't +believe he was quite the sort of person to--And yet he might--he was in +trouble--" + +"Money trouble?" asked Hinkle. "They say these Russians have a perfect +genius for debt. I had a little inspiration, since I saw you, but there +doesn't seems to be anything in it, so far." He addressed himself to +Clementina, but he included Gregory in what he said. "It struck me that +he might have been running his board, and had used this drowning episode +as a blind. But I've been around to his hotel, and he's settled up, all +fair and square enough. The landlord tried to think of something he +hadn't paid, but he couldn't; and I never saw a man try harder, either." +Clementina smiled; she put her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing; +but Gregory frowned his distress in the untimely droning. + +"I don't give up my theory that it's a fake of some kind, though. He +could leave behind a good many creditors besides his landlord. The +authorities have sealed up his effects, and they've done everything but +call out the fire department; that's on duty looking after the freshet, +and it couldn't be spared. I'll go out now and slop round a little more +in the cause," Hinkle looked down at his shoes and his drabbled trousers, +and wiped the perspiration from his face, "but I thought I'd drop in, and +tell you not to worry about it, Miss Clementina. I would stake anything +you pleased on Mr. Belsky's safety. Mr. Gregory, here, looks like he +would be willing to take odds," he suggested. + +Gregory commanded himself from his misery to say, "I wish I could +believe--I mean--" + +"Of course, we don't want to think that the man's a fraud, any more than +that he's dead. Perhaps we might hit upon some middle course. At any +rate, it's worth trying." + +"May I--do you object to my joining you?" Gregory asked. + +"Why, come!" Hinkle hospitably assented. "Glad to have you. I'll be back +again, Miss Clementina!" + +Gregory was going away without any form of leavetaking; but he turned +back to ask, "Will you let me come back, too?" + +"Why, suttainly, Mr. Gregory," said Clementina, and she went to find Mrs. +Lander, whom she found in bed. + +"I thought I'd lay down," she explained. "I don't believe I'm goin' to be +sick, but it's one of my pooa days, and I might just as well be in bed as +not." Clementina agreed with her, and Mrs. Lander asked: "You hea'd +anything moa?" + +"No. Mr. Hinkle has just been he'a, but he hadn't any news." + +Mrs. Lander turned her face toward the wall. "Next thing, he'll be +drownin' himself. I neva wanted you should have anything to do with the +fellas that go to that woman's. There ain't any of 'em to be depended +on." + +It was the first time that her growing jealousy of Miss Milray had openly +declared itself; but Clementina had felt it before, without knowing how +to meet it. As an escape from it now she was almost willing to say, "Mrs. +Lander, I want to tell you that Mr. Gregory has just been he'a, too." + +"Mr. Gregory?" + +"Yes. Don't you remember? At the Middlemount? The first summa? He was the +headwaita--that student." + +Mrs. Lander jerked her head round on the pillow. "Well, of all the--What +does he want, over he'a?" + +"Nothing. That is--he's travelling with a pupil that he's preparing for +college, and--he came to see us--" + +"D'you tell him I couldn't see him?" + +"Yes" + +"I guess he'd think I was a pretty changed pusson! Now, I want you should +stay with me, Clementina, and if anybody else comes--" + +Maddalena entered the room with a card which she gave to the girl. + +"Who is it?" Mrs. Lander demanded. + +"Miss Milray." + +"Of cou'se! Well, you may just send wo'd that you can't--Or, no; you +must! She'd have it all ova the place, by night, that I wouldn't let you +see her. But don't you make any excuse for me! If she asks after me, +don't you say I'm sick! You say I'm not at home." + +"I've come about that little wretch," Miss Milray began, after kissing +Clementina. "I didn't know but you had heard something I hadn't, or I had +heard something you hadn't. You know I belong to the Hinkle persuasion: I +think Belsky's run his board--as Mr. Hinkle calls it." + +Clementina explained how this part of the Hinkle theory had failed, and +then Miss Milray devolved upon the belief that he had run his tailor's +bill or his shoemaker's. "They are delightful, those Russians, but +they're born insolvent. I don't believe he's drowned himself. How," she +broke off to ask, in a burlesque whisper, "is-the-old-tabby?" She +laughed, for answer to her own question, and then with another sudden +diversion she demanded of a look in Clementina's face which would not be +laughed away, "Well, my dear, what is it?" + +"Miss Milray," said the girl, "should you think me very silly, if I told +you something--silly?" + +"Not in the least!" cried Miss Milray, joyously. "It's the final proof of +your wisdom that I've been waiting for?" + +"It's because Mr. Belsky is all mixed up in it," said Clementina, as if +some excuse were necessary, and then she told the story of her love +affair with Gregory. Miss Milray punctuated the several facts with vivid +nods, but at the end she did not ask her anything, and the girl somehow +felt the freer to add: "I believe I will tell you his name. It is Mr. +Gregory--Frank Gregory--" + +"And he's been in Egypt?" + +"Yes, the whole winta." + +"Then he's the one that my sister-in-law has been writing me about!" + +"Oh, did he meet her the'a?" + +"I should think so! And he'll meet her here, very soon. She's coming, +with my poor brother. I meant to tell you, but this ridiculous Belsky +business drove it out of my head." + +"And do you think," Clementina entreated, "that he was to blame?" + +"Why, I don't believe he's done it, you know." + +"Oh, I didn't mean Mr. Belsky. I meant--Mr. Gregory. For telling Mr. +Belsky?" + +"Certainly not. Men always tell those things to some one, I suppose. +Nobody was to blame but Belsky, for his meddling." + +Miss Milray rose and shook out her plumes for flight, as if she were +rather eager for flight, but at the little sigh with which Clementina +said, "Yes, that is what I thought," she faltered. + +"I was going to run away, for I shouldn't like to mix myself up in your +affair--it's certainly a very strange one--unless I was sure I could help +you. But if you think I can--" + +Clementina shook her head. "I don't believe you can," she said, with a +candor so wistful that Miss Milray stopped quite short. "How does Mr. +Gregory take this Belsky business?" she asked. + +"I guess he feels it moa than I do," said the girl. + +"He shows his feeling more?" + +"Yes--no--He believes he drove him to it." + +Miss Milray took her hand, for parting, but did not kiss her. "I won't +advise you, my dear. In fact, you haven't asked me to. You'll know what +to do, if you haven't done it already; girls usually have, when they want +advice. Was there something you were going to say?" + +"Oh, no. Nothing. Do you think," she hesitated, appealingly, "do you +think we are--engaged?" + +"If he's anything of a man at all, he must think he is." + +"Yes," said Clementina, wistfully, "I guess he does." + +Miss Milray looked sharply at her. "And does he think you are?" + +"I don't know--he didn't say." + +"Well," said Miss Milray, rather dryly, "then it's something for you to +think over pretty carefully." + + + + +XXVI. + +Hinkle came back in the afternoon to make a hopeful report of his failure +to learn anything more of Belsky, but Gregory did not come with him. He +came the next morning long before Clementina expected visitors, and he +was walking nervously up and down the room when she appeared. As if he +could not speak, he held toward her without speaking a telegram in +English, dated that day in Rome: + + "Deny report of my death. Have written. + + "Belsky." + +She looked up at Gregory from the paper, when she had read it, with +joyful eyes. "Oh, I am so glad for you! I am so glad he is alive." + +He took the dispatch from her hand. "I brought it to you as soon as it +came." + +"Yes, yes! Of cou'se!" + +"I must go now and do what he says--I don't know how yet." He stopped, +and then went on from a different impulse. "Clementina, it isn't a +question now of that wretch's life and death, and I wish I need never +speak of him again. But what he told you was true." He looked steadfastly +at her, and she realized how handsome he was, and how well dressed. His +thick red hair seemed to have grown darker above his forehead; his +moustache was heavier, and it curved in at the corners of his mouth; he +bore himself with a sort of self-disdain that enhanced his splendor. "I +have never changed toward you; I don't say it to make favor with you; I +don't expect to do that now; but it is true. That night, there at +Middlemount, I tried to take back what I said, because I believed that I +ought." + +"Oh, yes, I knew that," said Clementina, in the pause he made. + +"We were both too young; I had no prospect in life; I saw, the instant +after I had spoken, that I had no right to let you promise anything. I +tried to forget you; I couldn't. I tried to make you forget me." He +faltered, and she did not speak, but her head drooped a little. "I won't +ask how far I succeeded. I always hoped that the time would come when I +could speak to you again. When I heard from Fane that you were at +Woodlake, I wished to come out and see you, but I hadn't the courage, I +hadn't the right. I've had to come to you without either, now. Did he +speak to you about me?" + +"I thought he was beginning to, once; but he neva did." + +"It didn't matter; it could only have made bad worse. It can't help me to +say that somehow I was wishing and trying to do what was right; but I +was." + +"Oh, I know that, Mr. Gregory," said Clementina, generously. + +"Then you didn't doubt me, in spite of all?" + +"I thought you would know what to do. No, I didn't doubt you, exactly." + +"I didn't deserve your trust!" he cried. "How came that man to mention +me?" he demanded, abruptly, after a moment's silence. + +"Mr. Belsky? It was the first night I saw him, and we were talking about +Americans, and he began to tell me about an American friend of his, who +was very conscientious. I thought it must be you the fust moment," said +Clementina, smiling with an impersonal pleasure in the fact. + +"From the conscientiousness?" he asked, in bitter self-irony. + +"Why, yes," she returned, simply. "That was what made me think of you. +And the last time when he began to talk about you, I couldn't stop him, +although I knew he had no right to." + +"He had no right. But I gave him the power to do it! He meant no harm, +but I enabled him to do all the harm." + +"Oh, if he's only alive, now, there is no harm!" + +He looked into her eyes with a misgiving from which he burst impetuously. +"Then you do care for me still, after all that I have done to make you +detest me?" He started toward her, but she shrank back. + +"I didn't mean that," she hesitated. + +"You know that I love you,--that I have always loved you?" + +"Yes," she assented. "But you might be sorry again that you had said it." +It sounded like coquetry, but he knew it was not coquetry. + +"Never! I've wished to say it again, ever since that night at +Middlemount; I have always felt bound by what I said then, though I took +back my words for your sake. But the promise was always there, and my +life was in it. You believe that?" + +"Why, I always believed what you said, Mr. Gregory." + +"Well?" + +Clementina paused, with her head seriously on one side. "I should want to +think about it before I said anything." + +"You are right," he submitted, dropping his outstretched arms to his +side. "I have been thinking only of myself, as usual." + +"No," she protested, compassionately. "But doesn't it seem as if we ought +to be su'a, this time? I did ca'e for you then, but I was very young, and +I don't know yet--I thought I had always felt just as you did, but +now--Don't you think we had both betta wait a little while till we ah' +moa suttain?" + +They stood looking at each other, and he said, with a kind of passionate +self-denial, "Yes, think it over for me, too. I will come back, if you +will let me." + +"Oh, thank you!" she cried after him, gratefully, as if his forbearance +were the greatest favor. + +When he was gone she tried to release herself from the kind of abeyance +in which she seemed to have gone back and been as subject to him as in +the first days when he had awed her and charmed her with his superiority +at Middlemount, and he again older and freer as she had grown since. + +He came back late in the afternoon, looking jaded and distraught. Hinkle, +who looked neither, was with him. "Well," he began, "this is the greatest +thing in my experience. Belsky's not only alive and well, but Mr. Gregory +and I are both at large. I did think, one time, that the police would +take us into custody on account of our morbid interest in the thing, and +I don't believe we should have got off, if the Consul hadn't gone bail +for us, so to speak. I thought we had better take the Consul in, on our +way, and it was lucky we did." + +Clementina did not understand all the implications, but she was willing +to take Mr. Hinkle's fun on trust. "I don't believe you'll convince Mrs. +Landa that Mr. Belsky's alive and well, till you bring him back to say +so." + +"Is that so!" said Hinkle. "Well, we must have him brought back by the +authorities, then. Perhaps they'll bring him, anyway. They can't try him +for suicide, but as I understand the police, here, a man can't lose his +hat over a bridge in Florence with impunity, especially in a time of high +water. Anyway, they're identifying Belsky by due process of law in Rome, +now, and I guess Mr. Gregory"--he nodded toward Gregory, who sat silent +and absent "will be kept under surveillance till the whole mystery is +cleared up." + +Clementina responded gayly still, but with less and less sincerity, and +she let Hinkle go at last with the feeling that he knew she wished him to +go. He made a brave show of not seeing this, and when he was gone, she +remembered that she had not thanked him for the trouble he had taken on +her account, and her heart ached after him with a sense of his sweetness +and goodness, which she had felt from the first through his quaint +drolling. It was as if the door which closed upon him shut her out of the +life she had been living of late, and into the life of the past where she +was subject again to the spell of Gregory's mood; it was hardly his will. + +He began at once: "I wished to make you say something this morning that I +have no right to hear you say, yet; and I have been trying ever since to +think how I could ask you whether you could share my life with me, and +yet not ask you to do it. But I can't do anything without knowing--You +may not care for what my life is to be, at all!" + +Clementina's head drooped a little, but she answered distinctly, "I do +ca'e, Mr. Gregory." + +"Thank you for that much; I don't count upon more than you have said. +Clementina, I am going to be a missionary. I think I shall ask to be sent +to China; I've not decided yet. My life will be hard; it will be full of +danger and privation; it will be exile. You will have to think of sharing +such a life if you think--" + +He stopped; the time had come for her to speak, and she said, "I knew you +wanted to be a missionary--" + +"And--and--you would go with me? You would"--He started toward her, and +she did not shrink from him, now; but he checked himself. "But you +mustn't, you know, for my sake." + +"I don't believe I quite undastand," she faltered. + +"You must not do it for me, but for what makes me do it. Without that our +life, our work, could have no consecration." + +She gazed at him in patient, faintly smiling bewilderment, as if it were +something he would unriddle for her when he chose. + +"We mustn't err in this; it would be worse than error; it would be sin." +He took a turn about the room, and then stopped before her. "Will +you--will you join me in a prayer for guidance, Clementina?" + +"I--I don't know," she hesitated. "I will, but--do you think I had +betta?" + +He began, "Why, surely"--After a moment he asked gravely, "You believe +that our actions will be guided aright, if we seek help?" + +"Oh, yes--yes--" + +"And that if we do not, we shall stumble in our ignorance?" + +"I don't know. I never thought of that." + +"Never thought of it--" + +"We never did it in our family. Father always said that if we really +wanted to do right we could find the way." Gregory looked daunted, and +then he frowned darkly. "Are you provoked with me? Do you think what I +have said is wrong?" + +"No, no! You must say what you believe. It would be double hypocrisy in +me if I prevented you." + +"But I would do it, if you wanted me to," she said. + +"Oh, for me, for ME!" he protested. "I will try to tell you what I mean, +and why you must not, for that very reason." But he had to speak of +himself, of the miracle of finding her again by the means which should +have lost her to him forever; and of the significance of this. Then it +appeared to him that he could not reject such a leading without error, +without sin. "Such a thing could not have merely happened." + +It seemed so to Clementina, too; she eagerly consented that this was +something they must think of, as well. But the light waned, the dark +thickened in the room before he left her to do so. Then he said +fervently, "We must not doubt that everything will come right," and his +words seemed an effect of inspiration to them both. + + + + +XXVII. + +After Gregory was gone a misgiving began in Clementina's mind, which grew +more distinct, through all the difficulties of accounting to Mrs. Lander +for his long stay, The girl could see that it was with an obscure +jealousy that she pushed her questions, and said at last, "That Mr. +Hinkle is about the best of the lot. He's the only one that's eva had the +mannas to ask after me, except that lo'd. He did." + +Clementina could not pretend that Gregory had asked, but she could not +blame him for a forgetfulness of Mrs. Lander which she had shared with +him. This helped somehow to deepen the misgiving which followed her from +Mrs. Lander's bed to her own, and haunted her far into the night. She +could escape from it only by promising herself to deal with it the first +thing in the morning. She did this in terms much briefer than she thought +she could have commanded. She supposed she would have to write a very +long letter, but she came to the end of all she need say, in a very few +lines. + + DEAR MR. GREGORY: + + "I have been thinking about what you said yesterday, and I have to + tell you something. Then you can do what is right for both of us; + you will know better than I can. But I want you to understand that + if I go with you in your missionary life, I shall do it for you, and + not for anything else. I would go anywhere and live anyhow for you, + but it would be for you; I do not believe that I am religious, and I + know that I should not do it for religion. + + "That is all; but I could not get any peace till I let you know just + how I felt. + + "CLEMENTINA CLAXON." + +The letter went early in the morning, though not so early but it was put +in Gregory's hand as he was leaving his hotel to go to Mrs. Lander's. He +tore it open, and read it on the way, and for the first moment it seemed +as if it were Providence leading him that he might lighten Clementina's +heart of its doubts with the least delay. He had reasoned that if she +would share for his sake the life that he should live for righteousness' +sake they would be equally blest in it, and it would be equally +consecrated in both. But this luminous conclusion faded in his thought as +he hurried on, and he found himself in her presence with something like a +hope that she would be inspired to help him. + +His soul lifted at the sound of the gay voice in which she asked, "Did +you get my letta?" and it seemed for the instant as if there could be no +trouble that their love could not overcome. + +"Yes," he said, and he put his arms around her, but with a provisionality +in his embrace which she subtly perceived. + +"And what did you think of it?" she asked. "Did you think I was silly?" + +He was aware that she had trusted him to do away her misgiving. "No, no," +he answered, guiltily. "Wiser than I am, always. I--I want to talk with +you about it, Clementina. I want you to advise me." + +He felt her shrink from him, and with a pang he opened his arms to free +her. But it was right; he must. She had been expecting him to say that +there was nothing in her misgiving, and he could not say it. + +"Clementina," he entreated, "why do you think you are not religious?" + +"Why, I have never belonged to chu'ch," she answered simply. He looked so +daunted, that she tried to soften the blow after she had dealt it. "Of +course, I always went to chu'ch, though father and motha didn't. I went +to the Episcopal--to Mr. Richling's. But I neva was confirmed." + +"But--you believe in God?" + +"Why, certainly!" + +"And in the Bible?" + +"Why, of cou'se!" + +"And that it is our duty to bear the truth to those who have never heard +of it?" + +"I know that is the way you feel about it; but I am not certain that I +should feel so myself if you didn't want me to. That's what I got to +thinking about last night." She added hopefully, "But perhaps it isn't so +great a thing as I--" + +"It's a very great thing," he said, and from standing in front of her, he +now sat down beyond a little table before her sofa. "How can I ask you to +share my life if you don't share my faith?" + +"Why, I should try to believe everything that you do, of cou'se." + +"Because I do?" + +"Well--yes." + +"You wring my heart! Are you willing to study--to look into these +questions--to--to"--It all seemed very hopeless, very absurd, but she +answered seriously: + +"Yes, but I believe it would all come back to just where it is, now." + +"What you say, Clementina, makes me so happy; but it ought to make +me--miserable! And you would do all this, be all this for me, a wretched +and erring creature of the dust, and yet not do it for--God?" + +Clementina could only say, "Perhaps if He meant me to do it for Him, He +would have made me want to. He made you." + +"Yes," said Gregory, and for a long time he could not say any more. He +sat with his elbow on the table, and his head against his lifted hand. + +"You see," she began, gently, "I got to thinking that even if I eva came +to believe what you wanted me to, I should be doing it after all, because +you wanted me to--" + +"Yes, yes," he answered, desolately. "There is no way out of it. If you +only hated me, Clementina, despised me--I don't mean that. But if you +were not so good, I could have a more hope for you--for myself. It's +because you are so good that I can't make myself wish to change you, and +yet I know--I am afraid that if you told me my life and objects were +wrong, I should turn from them, and be whatever you said. Do you tell me +that?" + +"No, indeed!" cried Clementina, with abhorrence. "Then I should despise +you." + +He seemed not to heed her. He moved his lips as if he were talking to +himself, and he pleaded, "What shall we do?" + +"We must try to think it out, and if we can't--if you can't let me give +up to you unless I do it for the same reason that you do; and if I can't +let you give up for me, and I know I could neva do that; then--we +mustn't!" + +"Do you mean, we must part? Not see each other again?" + +"What use would it be?" + +"None," he owned. She had risen, and he stood up perforce. "May I--may I +come back to tell you?" + +"Tell me what?" she asked. + +"You are right! If I can't make it right, I won't come. But I won't say +good bye. I--can't." + +She let him go, and Maddalena came in at the door. "Signorina," she said, +"the signora is not well. Shall I send for the doctor?" + +"Yes, yes, Maddalena. Run!" cried Clementina, distractedly. She hurried +to Mrs. Lander's room, where she found her too sick for reproaches, for +anything but appeals for help and pity. The girl had not to wait for +Doctor Welwright's coming to understand that the attack was severer than +any before. + +It lasted through the day, and she could see that he was troubled. It had +not followed upon any imprudeuce, as Mrs. Lander pathetically called +Clementina to witness when her pain had been so far quelled that she +could talk of her seizure. + +He found her greatly weakened by it the next day, and he sat looking +thoughtfully at her before he said that she needed toning up. She caught +at the notion. "Yes, yes! That's what I need, docta! Toning up! That's +what I need." + +He suggested, "How would you like to try the sea air, and the baths--at +Venice?" + +"Oh, anything, anywhere, to get out of this dreadful hole! I ha'n't had a +well minute since I came. And Clementina," the sick woman whimpered, "is +so taken up all the time, he'a, that I can't get the right attention." + +The doctor looked compassionately away from the girl, and said, "Well, we +must arrange about getting you off, then." + +"But I want you should go with me, doctor, and see me settled all right. +You can, can't you? I sha'n't ca'e how much it costs?" + +The doctor said gravely he thought he could manage it and he ignored the +long unconscious sigh of relief that Clementina drew. + +In all her confusing anxieties for Mrs. Lander, Gregory remained at the +bottom of her heart a dumb ache. When the pressure of her fears was taken +from her she began to suffer for him consciously; then a letter came from +him: + + "I cannot make it right. It is where it was, and I feel that I must + not see you again. I am trying to do right, but with the fear that + I am wrong. Send some word to help me before I go away to-morrow. + F. G." + +It was what she had expected, she knew now, but it was none the less to +be borne because of her expectation. She wrote back: + + "I believe you are doing the best you can, and I shall always + believe that." + +Her note brought back a long letter from him. He said that whatever he +did, or wherever he went, he should try to be true to her ideal of him. +If they renounced their love now for the sake of what seemed higher than +their love, they might suffer, but they could not choose but do as they +were doing. + +Clementina was trying to make what she could of this when Miss Milray's +name came up, and Miss Milray followed it. + +"I wanted to ask after Mrs. Lander, and I want you to tell her I did. +Will you? Dr. Welwright says he's going to take her to Venice. Well, I'm +sorry--sorry for your going, Clementina, and I'm truly sorry for the +cause of it. I shall miss you, my dear, I shall indeed. You know I always +wanted to steal you, but you'll do me the justice to say I never did, and +I won't try, now." + +"Perhaps I wasn't worth stealing," Clementina suggested, with a +ruefulness in her smile that went to Miss Milray's heart. + +She put her arms round her and kissed her. "I wasn't very kind to you, the +other day, Clementina, was I?" + +"I don't know," Clementina faltered, with half-averted face. + +"Yes, you do! I was trying to make-believe that I didn't want to meddle +with your affairs; but I was really vexed that you hadn't told me your +story before. It hasn't taken me all this time to reflect that you +couldn't, but it has to make myself come and confess that I had been dry +and cold with you." She hesitated. "It's come out all right, hasn't it, +Clementina?" she asked, tenderly. "You see I want to meddle, now." + +"We ah' trying to think so," sighed the girl. + +"Tell me about it!" Miss Milray pulled her down on the sofa with her, and +modified her embrace to a clasp of Clementina's bands. + +"Why, there isn't much to tell," she began, but she told what there was, +and Miss Milray kept her countenance concerning the scruple that had +parted Clementina and her lover. "Perhaps he wouldn't have thought of +it," she said, in a final self-reproach, "if I hadn't put it into his +head." + +"Well, then, I'm not sorry you put it into his head," cried Miss Milray. +"Clementina, may I say what I think of Mr. Gregory's performance?" + +"Why, certainly, Miss Milray!" + +"I think he's not merely a gloomy little bigot, but a very hard-hearted +little wretch, and I'm glad you're rid of him. No, stop! Let me go on! +You said I might!" she persisted, at a protest which imparted itself from +Clementina's restive hands. "It was selfish and cruel of him to let you +believe that he had forgotten you. It doesn't make it right now, when an +accident has forced him to tell you that he cared for you all along." + +"Why, do you look at it that way, Miss Milray? If he was doing it on my +account?" + +"He may think he was doing it on your account, but I think he was doing +it on his own. In such a thing as that, a man is bound by his mistakes, +if he has made any. He can't go back of them by simply ignoring them. It +didn't make it the same for you when he decided for your sake that he +would act as if he had never spoken to you." + +"I presume he thought that it would come right, sometime," Clementina +urged. "I did." + +"Yes, that was very well for you, but it wasn't at all well for him. He +behaved cruelly; there's no other word for it." + +"I don't believe he meant to be cruel, Miss Milray," said Clementina. + +"You're not sorry you've broken with him?" demanded Miss Milray, +severely, and she let go of Clementina's hands. + +"I shouldn't want him to think I hadn't been fai'a." + +"I don't understand what you mean by not being fair," said Miss Milray, +after a study of the girl's eyes. + +"I mean," Clementina explained, "that if I let him think the religion was +all the'e was, it wouldn't have been fai'a." + +"Why, weren't you sincere about that?" + +"Of cou'se I was!" returned the girl, almost indignantly. "But if the'e +was anything else, I ought to have told him that, too; and I couldn't." + +"Then you can't tell me, of course?" Miss Milray rose in a little pique. + +"Perhaps some day I will," the girl entreated. "And perhaps that was +all." + +Miss Milray laughed. "Well, if that was enough to end it, I'm satisfied, +and I'll let you keep your mystery--if it is one--till we meet in Venice; +I shall be there early in June. Good bye, dear, and say good bye to Mrs. +Lander for me." + + + + +XXVIII. + +Dr. Welwright got his patient a lodging on the Grand Canal in Venice, and +decided to stay long enough to note the first effect of the air and the +baths, and to look up a doctor to leave her with. + +This took something more than a week, which could not all be spent in +Mrs. Lander's company, much as she wished it. There were hours which he +gave to going about in a gondola with Clementina, whom he forbade to be +always at the invalid's side. He tried to reassure her as to Mrs. +Lander's health, when he found her rather mute and absent, while they +drifted in the silvery sun of the late April weather, just beginning to +be warm, but not warm enough yet for the tent of the open gondola. He +asked her about Mrs. Lander's family, and Clementina could only tell him +that she had always said she had none. She told him the story of her own +relation to her, and he said, "Yes, I heard something of that from Miss +Milray." After a moment of silence, during which he looked curiously into +the girl's eyes, "Do you think you can bear a little more care, Miss +Claxon?" + +"I think I can," said Clementina, not very courageously, but patiently. + +"It's only this, and I wouldn't tell you if I hadn't thought you equal to +it. Mrs. Lander's case puzzles me. But I shall leave Dr. Tradonico +watching it, and if it takes the turn that there's a chance it may take, +he will tell you, and you'd better find out about her friends, and--let +them know. That's all." + +"Yes," said Clementina, as if it were not quite enough. Perhaps she did +not fully realize all that the doctor had intended; life alone is +credible to the young; life and the expectation of it. + +The night before he was to return to Florence there was a full moon; and +when he had got Mrs. Lander to sleep he asked Clementina if she would not +go out on the lagoon with him. He assigned no peculiar virtue to the +moonlight, and he had no new charge to give her concerning his patient +when they were embarked. He seemed to wish her to talk about herself, and +when she strayed from the topic, he prompted her return. Then he wished +to know how she liked Florence, as compared with Venice, and all the +other cities she had seen, and when she said she had not seen any but +Boston and New York, and London for one night, he wished to know whether +she liked Florence as well. She said she liked it best of all, and he +told her he was very glad, for he liked it himself better than any place +he had ever seen. He spoke of his family in America, which was formed of +grownup brothers and sisters, so that he had none of the closest and +tenderest ties obliging him to return; there was no reason why he should +not spend all his days in Florence, except for some brief visits home. It +would be another thing with such a place as Venice; he could never have +the same settled feeling there: it was beautiful, but it was unreal; it +would be like spending one's life at the opera. Did not she think so? + +She thought so, oh, yes; she never could have the home-feeling at Venice +that she had at Florence. + +"Exactly; that's what I meant--a home-feeling; I'm glad you had it." He +let the gondola dip and slide forward almost a minute before he added, +with an effect of pulling a voice up out of his throat somewhere, "How +would you like to live there--with me--as my wife?" + +"Why, what do you mean, Dr. Welwright?" asked Clementina, with a vague +laugh. + +Dr. Welwright laughed, too; but not vaguely; there was a mounting +cheerfulness in his laugh. "What I say. I hope it isn't very surprising." + +"No; but I never thought of such a thing." + +"Perhaps you will think of it now." + +"But you're not in ea'nest!" + +"I'm thoroughly in earnest," said the doctor, and he seemed very much +amused at her incredulity. + +"Then; I'm sorry," she answered. "I couldn't." + +"No?" he said, still with amusement, or with a courage that took that +form. "Why not?" + +"Because I am--not free." + +For an interval they were so silent that they could hear each other +breathe: Then, after he had quietly bidden the gondolier go back to their +hotel, he asked, "If you had been free you might have answered me +differently?" + +"I don't know," said Clementina, candidly. "I never thought of it." + +"It isn't because you disliked me?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then I must get what comfort I can out of that. I hope, with all my +heart, that you may be happy." + +"Why, Dr. Welwright!" said Clementina. "Don't you suppose that I should +be glad to do it, if I could? Any one would!" + +"It doesn't seem very probable, just now," he answered, humbly. "But I'll +believe it if you say so." + +"I do say so, and I always shall." + +"Thank you." + +Dr. Welwright professed himself ready for his departure, at breakfast +next morning and he must have made his preparations very late or very +early. He was explicit in his charges to Clementina concerning Mrs. +Lander, and at the end of them, he said, "She will not know when she is +asking too much of you, but you will, and you must act upon your +knowledge. And remember, if you are in need of help, of any kind, you're +to let me know. Will you?" + +"Yes, I will, Dr. Welwright." + +"People will be going away soon, and I shall not be so busy. I can come +back if Dr. Tradonico thinks it necessary." + +He left Mrs. Lander full of resolutions to look after her own welfare in +every way, and she went out in her gondola the same morning. She was not +only to take the air as much as possible, but she was to amuse herself, +and she decided that she would have her second breakfast at the Caffe +Florian. Venice was beginning to fill up with arrivals from the south, +and it need not have been so surprising to find Mr. Hinkle there over a +cup of coffee. He said he had just that moment been thinking of her, and +meaning to look her up at the hotel. He said that he had stopped at +Venice because it was such a splendid place to introduce his gleaner; he +invited Mrs. Lander to become a partner in the enterprise; he promised +her a return of fifty per cent. on her investment. If he could once +introduce his gleaner in Venice, he should be a made man. He asked Mrs. +Lander, with real feeling, how she was; as for Miss Clementina, he need +not ask. + +"Oh, indeed, the docta thinks she wants a little lookin' after, too," +said Mrs. Lander. + +"Well, about as much as you do, Mrs. Lander," Hinkle allowed, tolerantly. +"I don't know how it affects you, ma'am, such a meeting of friends in +these strange waters, but it's building me right up. It's made another +man of me, already, and I've got the other man's appetite, too. Mind my +letting him have his breakfast here with me at your table?" He bade the +waiter just fetch his plate. He attached himself to them; he spent the +day with them. Mrs. Lander asked him to dinner at her lodgings, and left +him to Clementina over the coffee. + +"She's looking fine, doesn't the doctor think? This air will do +everything for her." + +"Oh, yes; she's a great deal betta than she was befo'e we came." + +"That's right. Well, now, you've got me here, you must let me make myself +useful any way I can. I've got a spare month that I can put in here in +Venice, just as well as not; I sha'n't want to push north till the +frost's out of the ground. They wouldn't have a chance to try my gleaner, +on the other side of the Alps much before September, anyway. Now, in +Ohio, the part I come from, we cut our wheat in June. When is your wheat +harvest at Middlemount?" + +Clementina laughed. "I don't believe we've got any. I guess it's all +grass." + +"I wish you could see our country out there, once." + +"Is it nice?" + +"Nice? We're right in the centre of the state, measuring from north to +south, on the old National Road." Clementina had never heard of this +road, but she did not say so. "About five miles back from the Ohio River, +where the coal comes up out of the ground, because there's so much of it +there's no room for it below. Our farm's in a valley, along a creek +bottom, what you Yankees call an intervals; we've got three hundred +acres. My grandfather took up the land, and then he went back to +Pennsylvania to get the girl he'd left there--we were Pennsylvania Dutch; +that's where I got my romantic name--they drove all the way out to Ohio +again in his buggy, and when he came in sight of our valley with his +bride, he stood up in his buggy and pointed with his whip. 'There! As far +as the sky is blue, it's all ours!'" + +Clementina owned the charm of his story as he seemed to expect, but when +he said, "Yes, I want you to see that country, some day," she answered +cautiously. + +"It must be lovely. But I don't expect to go West, eva." + +"I like your Eastern way of saying everr," said Hinkle, and he said it in +his Western way. "I like New England folks." + +Clementina smiled discreetly. "They have their faults like everybody +else, I presume." + +"Ah, that's a regular Yankee word: presume," said Hinkle. "Our teacher, +my first one, always said presume. She was from your State, too." + + + + +XXIX. + +In the time of provisional quiet that followed for Clementina, she was +held from the remorses and misgivings that had troubled her before Hinkle +came. She still thought that she had let Dr. Welwright go away believing +that she had not cared enough for the offer which had surprised her so +much, and she blamed herself for not telling him how doubly bound she was +to Gregory; though when she tried to put her sense of this in words to +herself she could not make out that she was any more bound to him than +she had been before they met in Florence, unless she wished to be so. Yet +somehow in this time of respite, neither the regret for Dr. Welwright nor +the question of Gregory persisted very strongly, and there were whole +days when she realized before she slept that she had not thought of +either. + +She was in full favor again with Mrs. Lander, whom there was no one to +embitter in her jealous affection. Hinkle formed their whole social +world, and Mrs. Lander made the most of him. She was always having him to +the dinners which her landlord served her from a restaurant in her +apartment, and taking him out with Clementina in her gondola. He came +into a kind of authority with them both which was as involuntary with him +as with them, and was like an effect of his constant wish to be doing +something for them. + +One morning when they were all going out in Mrs. Lander's gondola, she +sent Clementina back three times to their rooms for outer garments of +differing density. When she brought the last Mrs. Lander frowned. + +"This won't do. I've got to have something else--something lighter and +warma." + +"I can't go back any moa, Mrs. Landa," cried the girl, from the +exasperation of her own nerves. + +"Then I will go back myself," said Mrs. Lander with dignity, "and we +sha'n't need the gondoler any more this mo'ning," she added, "unless you +and Mr. Hinkle wants to ride." + +She got ponderously out of the boat with the help of the gondolier's +elbow, and marched into the house again, while Clementina followed her. +She did not offer to help her up the stairs; Hinkle had to do it, and he +met the girl slowly coming up as he returned from delivering Mrs. Lander +over to Maddalena. + +"She's all right, now," he ventured to say, tentatively. + +"Is she?" Clementina coldly answered. + +In spite of her repellent air, he persisted, "She's a pretty sick woman, +isn't she?" + +"The docta doesn't say." + +"Well, I think it would be safe to act on that supposition. Miss +Clementina--I think she wants to see you." + +"I'm going to her directly." + +Hinkle paused, rather daunted. "She wants me to go for the doctor." + +"She's always wanting the docta." Clementina lifted her eyes and looked +very coldly at him. + +"If I were you I'd go up right away," he said, boldly. + +She felt that she ought to resent his interference, but the mild entreaty +of his pale blue eyes, or the elder-brotherly injunction of his smile, +forbade her. "Did she ask for me?" + +"No." + +"I'll go to her," she said, and she kept herself from smiling at the long +sigh of relief he gave as she passed him on the stairs. + +Mrs. Lander began as soon as she entered her room, "Well, I was just +wonderin' if you was goin' to leave me here all day alone, while you +staid down the'e, carryin' on with that simpleton. I don't know what's +got into the men." + +"Mr. Hinkle has gone for the docta," said Clementina, trying to get into +her voice the kindness she was trying to feel. + +"Well, if I have one of my attacks, now, you'll have yourself to thank +for it." + +By the time Dr. Tradonico appeared Mrs. Lander was so much better that in +her revulsion of feeling she was all day rather tryingly affectionate in +her indirect appeals for Clementina's sympathy. + +"I don't want you should mind what I say, when I a'n't feelin' just +right," she began that evening, after she had gone to bed, and Clementina +sat looking out of the open window, on the moonlit lagoon. + +"Oh, no," the girl answered, wearily. + +Mrs. Lander humbled herself farther. "I'm real sorry I plagued you so, +to-day, and I know Mr. Hinkle thought I was dreadful, but I couldn't help +it. I should like to talk with you, Clementina, about something that's +worryin' me, if you a'n't busy." + +"I'm not busy, now, Mrs. Lander," said Clementina, a little coldly, and +relaxing the clasp of her hands; to knit her fingers together had been +her sole business, and she put even this away. + +She did not come nearer the bed, and Mrs. Lander was obliged to speak +without the advantage of noting the effect of her words upon her in her +face. "It's like this: What am I agoin' to do for them relations of Mr. +Landa's out in Michigan?" + +"I don't know. What relations?" + +"I told you about 'em: the only ones he's got: his half-sista's children. +He neva saw 'em, and he neva wanted to; but they're his kin, and it was +his money. It don't seem right to pass 'em ova. Do you think it would +yourself, Clementina?" + +"Why, of cou'se not, Mrs. Lander. It wouldn't be right at all." + +Mrs. Lander looked relieved, and she said, as if a little surprised, "I'm +glad you feel that way; I should feel just so, myself. I mean to do by +you just what I always said I should. I sha'n't forget you, but whe'e +the'e's so much I got to thinkin' the'e'd ought to some of it go to his +folks, whetha he ca'ed for 'em or not. It's worried me some, and I guess +if anything it's that that's made me wo'se lately." + +"Why by Mrs. Landa," said the girl, "Why don't you give it all to them?" + +"You don't know what you'a talkin' about," said Mrs. Lander, severely. +"I guess if I give 'em five thousand or so amongst'em, it's full moa than +they eve' thought of havin', and it's moa than they got any right to. +Well, that's all right, then; and we don't need to talk about it any moa. +Yes," she resumed, after a moment, "that's what I shall do. I hu'n't eva +felt just satisfied with that last will I got made, and I guess I shall +tear it up, and get the fust American lawyer that comes along to make me +a new one. The prop'ty's all goin' to you, but I guess I shall leave five +thousand apiece to the two families out the'e. You won't miss it, any, +and I presume it's what Mr. Landa would expect I should do; though why he +didn't do it himself, I can't undastand, unless it was to show his +confidence in me." + +She began to ask Clementina how she felt about staying in Venice all +summer; she said she had got so much better there already that she +believed she should be well by fall if she stayed on. She was certain +that it would put her all back if she were to travel now, and in Europe, +where it was so hard to know how to get to places, she did not see how +they could pick out any that would suit them as well as Venice did. + +Clementina agreed to it all, more or less absentmindedly, as she sat +looking into the moonlight, and the day that had begun so stormily ended +in kindness between them. + +The next morning Mrs. Lander did not wish to go out, and she sent +Clementina and Hinkle together as a proof that they were all on good +terms again. She did not spare the girl this explanation in his presence, +and when they were in the gondola he felt that he had to say, "I was +afraid you might think I was rather meddlesome yesterday." + +"Oh, no," she answered. "I was glad you did." + +"Yes," he returned, "I thought you would be afterwards." He looked at her +wistfully with his slanted eyes and his odd twisted smile and they both +gave way in the same conscious laugh. "What I like," he explained +further, "is to be understood when I've said something that doesn't mean +anything, don't you? You know anybody can understand you if you really +mean something; but most of the time you don't, and that's when a friend +is useful. I wish you'd call on me if you're ever in that fix." + +"Oh, I will, Mr. Hinkle," Clementina promised, gayly. + +"Thank you," he said, and her gayety seemed to turn him graver. "Miss +Clementina, might I go a little further in this direction, without +danger?" + +"What direction?" she added, with a flush of sudden alarm. + +"Mrs. Lander." + +"Why, suttainly!" she answered, in quick relief. + +"I wish you'd let me do some of the worrying about her for you, while I'm +here. You know I haven't got anything else to do!" + +"Why, I don't believe I worry much. I'm afraid I fo'get about her when +I'm not with her. That's the wo'st of it." + +"No, no," he entreated, "that's the best of it. But I want to do the +worrying for you even when you're with her. Will you let me?" + +"Why, if you want to so very much." + +"Then it's settled," he said, dismissing the subject. + +But she recurred to it with a lingering compunction. + +"I presume that I don't remember how sick she is because I've neva been +sick at all, myself." + +"Well," he returned, "You needn't be sorry for that altogether. There are +worse things than being well, though sick people don't always think so. +I've wasted a good deal of time the other way, though I've reformed, +now." + +They went on to talk about themselves; sometimes they talked about +others, in excursions which were more or less perfunctory, and were +merely in the way of illustration or instance. She got so far in one of +these as to speak of her family, and he seemed to understand them. He +asked about them all, and he said he believed in her father's unworldly +theory of life. He asked her if they thought at home that she was like +her father, and he added, as if it followed, "I'm the worldling of my +family. I was the youngest child, and the only boy in a flock of girls. +That always spoils a boy." + +"Are you spoiled?" she asked. + +"Well, I'm afraid they'd be surprised if I didn't come to grief +somehow--all but--mother; she expects I'll be kept from harm." + +"Is she religious?" + +"Yes, she's a Moravian. Did you ever hear of them?" Clementina shook her +head. "They're something like the Quakers, and something like the +Methodists. They don't believe in war; but they have bishops." + +"And do you belong to her church?" + +"No," said the young man. "I wish I did, for her sake. I don't belong to +any. Do you?" + +"No, I go to the Episcopal, at home. Perhaps I shall belong sometime. But +I think that is something everyone must do for themselves." He looked a +little alarmed at the note of severity in her voice, and she explained. +"I mean that if you try to be religious for anything besides religion, it +isn't being religious;--and no one else has any right to ask you to be." + +"Oh, that's what I believe, too," he said, with comic relief. "I didn't +know but I'd been trying to convert you without knowing it." They both +laughed, and were then rather seriously silent. + +He asked, after a moment, in a fresh beginning, "Have you heard from Miss +Milray since you left Florence?" + +"Oh, yes, didn't I tell you? She's coming here in June." + +"Well, she won't have the pleasure of seeing me, then. I'm going the last +of May." + +"I thought you were going to stay a month!" she protested. + +"That will be a month; and more, too." + +"So it will," she owned. + +"I'm glad it doesn't seem any longer--say a year--Miss Clementina!" + +"Oh, not at all," she returned. "Miss Milray's brother and his wife are +coming with her. They've been in Egypt." + +"I never saw them," said Hinkle. He paused, before he added, "Well, it +would seem rather crowded after they get here, I suppose," and he +laughed, while Clementina said nothing. + + + + +XXX. + +Hinkle came every morning now, to smoothe out the doubts and difficulties +that had accumulated in Mrs. Lander's mind over night, and incidentally +to propose some pleasure for Clementina, who could feel that he was +pitying her in her slavery to the sick woman's whims, and yet somehow +entreating her to bear them. He saw them together in what Mrs. Lander +called her well days; but there were other days when he saw Clementina +alone, and then she brought him word from Mrs. Lander, and reported his +talk to her after he went away. On one of these she sent him a +cheerfuller message than usual, and charged the girl to explain that she +was ever so much better, but had not got up because she felt that every +minute in bed was doing her good. Clementina carried back his regrets and +congratulation, and then told Mrs. Lander that he had asked her to go out +with him to see a church, which he was sorry Mrs. Lander could not see +too. He professed to be very particular about his churches, for he said +he had noticed that they neither of them had any great gift for sights, +and he had it on his conscience to get the best for them. He told +Clementina that the church he had for them now could not be better if it +had been built expressly for them, instead of having been used as a place +of worship for eight or ten generations of Venetians before they came. +She gave his invitation to Mrs. Lander, who could not always be trusted +with his jokes, and she received it in the best part. + +"Well, you go!" she said. "Maddalena can look after me, I guess. He's the +only one of the fellas, except that lo'd, that I'd give a cent for." She +added, with a sudden lapse from her pleasure in Hinkle to her severity +with Clementina, "But you want to be ca'eful what you' doin'." + +"Ca'eful?" + +"Yes!--About Mr. Hinkle. I a'n't agoin' to have you lead him on, and then +say you didn't know where he was goin'. I can't keep runnin' away +everywhe'e, fo' you, the way I done at Woodlake." + +Clementina's heart gave a leap, whether joyful or woeful; but she +answered indignantly, "How can you say such a thing to me, Mrs. Lander. +I'm not leading him on!" + +"I don't know what you call it. You're round with him in the gondoler, +night and day, and when he's he'e, you'a settin' with him half the time +on the balcony, and it's talk, talk, the whole while." Clementina took in +the fact with silent recognition, and Mrs. Lander went on. "I ain't +sayin' anything against it. He's the only one I don't believe is afta the +money he thinks you'a goin' to have; but if you don't want him, you want +to look what you're about." + +The girl returned to Hinkle in the embarrassment which she was helpless +to hide, and without the excuse which she could not invent for refusing +to go with him. "Is Mrs. Lander worse--or anything?" he asked. + +"Oh, no. She's quite well," said Clementina; but she left it for him to +break the constraint in which they set out. He tried to do so at +different points, but it seemed to close upon them--the more inflexibly. +At last he asked, as they were drawing near the church, "Have you ever +seen anything of Mr. Belsky since you left Florence?" + +"No," she said, with a nervous start. "What makes you ask?" + +"I don't know. But you see nearly everybody again that you meet in your +travels. That friend of his--that Mr. Gregory--he seems to have dropped +out, too. I believe you told me you used to know him in America." + +"Yes," she answered, briefly; she could not say more; and Hinkle went on. +"It seemed to me, that as far as I could make him out, he was about as +much of a crank in his way as the Russian. It's curious, but when you +were talking about religion, the other day, you made me think of him!" +The blood went to Clementina's heart. "I don't suppose you had him in +mind, but what you said fitted him more than anyone I know of. I could +have almost believed that he had been trying to convert you!" She stared +at him, and he laughed. "He tackled me one day there in Florence all of a +sudden, and I didn't know what to say, exactly. Of course, I respected +his earnestness; but I couldn't accept his view of things and I tried to +tell him so. I had to say just where I stood, and why, and I mentioned +some books that helped to get me there. He said he never read anything +that went counter to his faith; and I saw that he didn't want to save me, +so much as he wanted to convince me. He didn't know it, and I didn't tell +him that I knew it, but I got him to let me drop the subject. He seems to +have been left over from a time when people didn't reason about their +beliefs, but only argued. I didn't think there was a man like that to be +found so late in the century, especially a young man. But that was just +where I was mistaken. If there was to be a man of that kind at all, it +would have to be a young one. He'll be a good deal opener-minded when +he's older. He was conscientious; I could see that; and he did take the +Russian's death to heart as long as he was dead. But I'd like to talk +with him ten years from now; he wouldn't be where he is." + +Clementina was still silent, and she walked up the church steps from the +gondola without the power to speak. She made no show of interest in the +pictures and statues; she never had really cared much for such things, +and now his attempts to make her look at them failed miserably. When they +got back again into the boat he began, "Miss Clementina, I'm afraid I +oughtn't to have spoken as I did of that Mr. Gregory. If he is a friend +of yours--" + +"He is," she made herself answer. + +"I didn't mean anything against him. I hope you don't think I wanted to +be unfair?" + +"You were not unfair. But I oughtn't to have let you say it, Mr. Hinkle. +I want to tell you something--I mean, I must"--She found herself panting +and breathless. "You ought to know it--Mr. Gregory is--I mean we are--" + +She stopped and she saw that she need not say more. + +In the days that followed before the time that Hinkle had fixed to leave +Venice, he tried to come as he had been coming, to see Mrs. Lander, but +he evaded her when she wished to send him out with Clementina. His +quaintness had a heartache in it for her; and he was boyishly simple in +his failure to hide his suffering. He had no explicit right to suffer, +for he had asked nothing and been denied nothing, but perhaps for this +reason she suffered the more keenly for him. + +A senseless resentment against Gregory for spoiling their happiness crept +into her heart; and she wished to show Hinkle how much she valued his +friendship at any risk and any cost. When this led her too far she took +herself to task with a severity which hurt him too. In the midst of the +impulses on which she acted, there were times when she had a confused +longing to appeal to him for counsel as to how she ought to behave toward +him. + +There was no one else whom she could appeal to. Mrs. Lander, after her +first warning, had not spoken of him again, though Clementina could feel +in the grimness with which she regarded her variable treatment of him +that she was silently hoarding up a sum of inculpation which would crush +her under its weight when it should fall upon her. She seemed to be +growing constantly better, now, and as the interval since her last attack +widened behind her, she began to indulge her appetite with a recklessness +which Clementina, in a sense of her own unworthiness, was helpless to +deal with. When she ventured to ask her once whether she ought to eat of +something that was very unwholesome for her, Mrs. Lander answered that +she had taken her case into her own hands, now, for she knew more about +it than all the doctors. She would thank Clementina not to bother about +her; she added that she was at least not hurting anybody but herself, and +she hoped Clementina would always be able to say as much. + +Clementina wished that Hinkle would go away, but not before she had +righted herself with him, and he lingered his month out, and seemed as +little able to go as she to let him. She had often to be cheerful for +both, when she found it too much to be cheerful for herself. In his +absence she feigned free and open talks with him, and explained +everything, and experienced a kind of ghostly comfort in his imagined +approval and forgiveness, but in his presence, nothing really happened +except the alternation of her kindness and unkindness, in which she was +too kind and then too unkind. + +The morning of the day he was at last to leave Venice, he came to say +good bye. He did not ask for Mrs. Lander, when the girl received him, and +he did not give himself time to lose courage before he began, "Miss +Clementina, I don't know whether I ought to speak to you after what I +understood you to mean about Mr. Gregory." He looked steadfastly at her +but she did not answer, and he went on. "There's just one chance in a +million, though, that I didn't understand you rightly, and I've made up +my mind that I want to take that chance. May I?" She tried to speak, but +she could not. "If I was wrong--if there was nothing between you and +him--could there ever be anything between you and me?" + +His pleading looks entreated her even more than his words. + +"There was something," she answered, "with him." + +"And I mustn't know what," the young man said patiently. + +"Yes--yes!" she returned eagerly. "Oh, yes! I want you to know--I want to +tell you. I was only sixteen yea's old, and he said that he oughtn't to +have spoken; we were both too young. But last winta he spoke again. He +said that he had always felt bound"--She stopped, and he got infirmly to +his feet. "I wanted to tell you from the fust, but--" + +"How could you? You couldn't. I haven't anything more to say, if you are +bound to him." + +"He is going to be a missionary and he wanted me to say that I would +believe just as he did; and I couldn't. But I thought that it would come +right; and--yes, I felt bound to him, too. That is all--I can't explain +it!" + +"Oh, I understand!" he returned, listlessly. + +"And do you blame me for not telling before?" She made an involuntary +movement toward him, a pathetic gesture which both entreated and +compassionated. + +"There's nobody to blame. You have tried to do just right by me, as well +as him. Well, I've got my answer. Mrs. Lander--can I--" + +"Why, she isn't up yet, Mr. Hinkle." Clementina put all her pain for him +into the expression of their regret. + +"Then I'll have to leave my good-bye for her with you. I don't believe I +can come back again." He looked round as if he were dizzy. "Good-bye," he +said, and offered his hand. It was cold as clay. + +When he was gone, Clementina went into Mrs. Lander's room, and gave her +his message. + +"Couldn't he have come back this aftanoon to see me, if he ain't goin' +till five?" she demanded jealously. + +"He said he couldn't come back," Clementina answered sadly. + +The woman turned her head on her pillow and looked at the girl's face. +"Oh!" she said for all comment. + + + + +XXXI. + +The Milrays came a month later, to seek a milder sun than they had left +burning in Florence. The husband and wife had been sojourning there since +their arrival from Egypt, but they had not been his sister's guests, and +she did not now pretend to be of their party, though the same train, even +the same carriage, had brought her to Venice with them. They went to a +hotel, and Miss Milray took lodgings where she always spent her Junes, +before going to the Tyrol for the summer. + +"You are wonderfully improved, every way," Mrs. Milray said to Clementina +when they met. "I knew you would be, if Miss Milray took you in hand; and +I can see she has. What she doesn't know about the world isn't worth +knowing! I hope she hasn't made you too worldly? But if she has, she's +taught you how to keep from showing it; you're just as innocent-looking +as ever, and that's the main thing; you oughtn't to lose that. You +wouldn't dance a skirt dance now before a ship's company, but if you did, +no one would suspect that you knew any better. Have you forgiven me, yet? +Well, I didn't use you very well, Clementina, and I never pretended I +did. I've eaten a lot of humble pie for that, my dear. Did Miss Milray +tell you that I wrote to her about it? Of course you won't say how she +told you; but she ought to have done me the justice to say that I tried +to be a friend at court with her for you. If she didn't, she wasn't +fair." + +"She neva said anything against you, Mrs. Milray," Clementina answered. + +"Discreet as ever, my dear! I understand! And I hope you understand about +that old affair, too, by this time. It was a complication. I had to get +back at Lioncourt somehow; and I don't honestly think now that his +admiration for a young girl was a very wholesome thing for her. But never +mind. You had that Boston goose in Florence, too, last winter, and I +suppose he gobbled up what little Miss Milray had left of me. But she's +charming. I could go down on my knees to her art when she really tries to +finish any one." + +Clementina noticed that Mrs. Milray had got a new way of talking. She had +a chirpiness, and a lift in her inflections, which if it was not exactly +English was no longer Western American. Clementina herself in her +association with Hinkle had worn off her English rhythm, and in her long +confinement to the conversation of Mrs. Lander, she had reverted to her +clipped Yankee accent. Mrs. Milray professed to like it, and said it +brought back so delightfully those pleasant days at Middlemount, when +Clementina really was a child. "I met somebody at Cairo, who seemed very +glad to hear about you, though he tried to seem not. Can you guess who it +was? I see that you never could, in the world! We got quite chummy one +day, when we were going out to the pyramids together, and he gave himself +away, finely. He's a simple soul! But when they're in love they're all +so! It was a little queer, colloguing with the ex-headwaiter on society +terms; but the head-waitership was merely an episode, and the main thing +is that he is very talented, and is going to be a minister. It's a pity +he's so devoted to his crazy missionary scheme. Some one ought to get +hold of him, and point him in the direction of a rich New York +congregation. He'd find heathen enough among them, and he could do the +greatest amount of good with their money; I tried to talk it into him. I +suppose you saw him in Florence, this spring?" she suddenly asked. + +"Yes," Clementina answered briefly. + +"And you didn't make it up together. I got that much out of Miss Milray. +Well, if he were here, I should find out why. But I don't suppose you +would tell me." She waited a moment to see if Clementina would, and then +she said, "It's a pity, for I've a notion I could help you, and I think I +owe you a good turn, for the way I behaved about your dance. But if you +don't want my help, you don't." + +"I would say so if I did, Mrs. Milray," said Clementina. "I was hu't, at +the time; but I don't care anything for it, now. I hope you won't think +about it any more!" + +"Thank you," said Mrs. Milray, "I'll try not to," and she laughed. "But I +should like to do something to prove my repentance." + +Clementina perceived that for some reason she would rather have more than +less cause for regret; and that she was mocking her; but she was without +the wish or the power to retaliate, and she did not try to fathom Mrs. +Milray's motives. Most motives in life, even bad motives, lie nearer the +surface than most people commonly pretend, and she might not have had to +dig deeper into Mrs. Milray's nature for hers than that layer of her +consciousness where she was aware that Clementina was a pet of her +sister-in-law. For no better reason she herself made a pet of Mrs. +Lander, whose dislike of Miss Milray was not hard to divine, and whose +willingness to punish her through Clementina was akin to her own. The +sick woman was easily flattered back into her first belief in Mrs. Milray +and accepted her large civilities and small services as proof of her +virtues. She began to talk them into Clementina, and to contrast them +with the wicked principles and actions of Miss Milray. + +The girl had forgiven Mrs. Milray, but she could not go back to any trust +in her; and she could only passively assent to her praise. When Mrs. +Lander pressed her for anything more explicit she said what she thought, +and then Mrs. Lander accused her of hating Mrs. Milray, who was more her +friend than some that flattered her up for everything, and tried to make +a fool of her. + +"I undastand now," she said one day, "what that recta meant by wantin' me +to make life ba'd for you; he saw how easy you was to spoil. Miss Milray +is one to praise you to your face, and disgrace you be hind your back, +and so I tell you. When Mrs. Milray thought you done wrong she come and +said so; and you can't forgive her." + +Clementina did not answer. She had mastered the art of reticence in her +relations with Mrs. Lander, and even when Miss Milray tempted her one day +to give way, she still had strength to resist. But she could not deny +that Mrs. Lander did things at times to worry her, though she ended +compassionately with the reflection: "She's sick." + +"I don't think she's very sick, now," retorted her friend. + +"No; that's the reason she's so worrying. When she's really sick, she's +betta." + +"Because she's frightened, I suppose. And how long do you propose to +stand it? + +"I don't know," Clementina listlessly answered. + +"She couldn't get along without me. I guess I can stand it till we go +home; she says she is going home in the fall." + +Miss Milray sat looking at the girl a moment. + +"Shall you be glad to go home?" + +"Oh yes, indeed!" + +"To that place in the woods?" + +"Why, yes! What makes you ask?" + +"Nothing. But Clementina, sometimes I think you don't quite understand +yourself. Don't you know that you are very pretty and very charming? I've +told you that often enough! But shouldn't you like to be a great success +in the world? Haven't you ever thought of that? Don't you care for +society?" + +The girl sighed. "Yes, I think that's all very nice I did ca'e, one +while, there in Florence, last winter!" + +"My dear, you don't know how much you were admired. I used to tell you, +because I saw there was no spoiling you; but I never told you half. If +you had only had the time for it you could have been the greatest sort of +success; you were formed for it. It wasn't your beauty alone; lots of +pretty girls don't make anything of their beauty; it was your +temperament. You took things easily and naturally, and that's what the +world likes. It doesn't like your being afraid of it, and you were not +afraid, and you were not bold; you were just right." Miss Milray grew +more and more exhaustive in her analysis, and enjoyed refining upon it. +"All that you needed was a little hard-heartedness, and that would have +come in time; you would have learned how to hold your own, but the chance +was snatched from you by that old cat! I could weep over you when I think +how you have been wasted on her, and now you're actually willing to go +back and lose yourself in the woods!" + +"I shouldn't call it being lost, Miss Milray." + +"I don't mean that, and you must excuse me, my dear. But surely your +people--your father and mother--would want to have you get on in the +world--to make a brilliant match--" + +Clementina smiled to think how far such a thing was from their +imaginations. "I don't believe they would ca'e. You don't undastand about +them, and I couldn't make you. Fatha neva liked the notion of my being +with such a rich woman as Mrs. Lander, because it would look as if we +wanted her money." + +"I never could have imagined that of you, Clementina!" + +"I didn't think you could," said the girl gratefully. "But now, if I left +her when she was sick and depended on me, it would look wohse, yet--as if +I did it because she was going to give her money to Mr. Landa's family. +She wants to do that, and I told her to; I think that would be right; +don't you?" + +"It would be right for you, Clementina, if you preferred it--and--I +should prefer it. But it wouldn't be right for her. She has given you +hopes--she has made promises--she has talked to everybody." + +"I don't ca'e for that. I shouldn't like to feel beholden to any one, and +I think it really belongs to his relations; it was HIS." + +Miss Milray did not say anything to this. She asked, "And if you went +back, what would you do there? Labor in the fields, as poor little Belsky +advised?" + +Clementina laughed. "No; but I expect you'll think it's almost as crazy. +You know how much I like dancing? Well, I think I could give dancing +lessons at the Middlemount. There are always a good many children, and +girls that have not grown up, and I guess I could get pupils enough, as +long as the summa lasted; and come winter, I'm not afraid but what I +could get them among the young folks at the Center. I used to teach them +before I left home." + +Miss Milray sat looking at her. "I don't know about such things; but it +sounds sensible--like everything about you, my dear. It sounds queer, +perhaps because you're talking of such a White Mountain scheme here in +Venice." + +"Yes, don't it?" said Clementina, sympathetically. "I was thinking of +that, myself. But I know I could do it. I could go round to different +hotels, different days. Yes, I should like to go home, and they would be +glad to have me. You can't think how pleasantly we live; and we're +company enough for each other. I presume I should miss the things I've +got used to ova here, at fust; but I don't believe I should care a great +while. I don't deny but what the wo'ld is nice; but you have to pay for +it; I don't mean that you would make me--" + +"No, no! We understand each other. Go on!" + +Miss Milray leaned towards her and pressed the girl's arm reassuringly. + +As often happens with people when they are told to go on, Clementina +found that she had not much more to say. "I think I could get along in +the wo'ld, well enough. Yes, I believe I could do it. But I wasn't bohn +to it, and it would be a great deal of trouble--a great deal moa than if +I had been bohn to it. I think it would be too much trouble. I would +rather give it up and go home, when Mrs. Landa wants to go back." + +Miss Milray did not speak for a time. "I know that you are serious, +Clementina; and you're wise always, and good--" + +"It isn't that, exactly," said Clementina. "But is it--I don't know how +to express it very well--is it wo'th while?" + +Miss Milray looked at her as if she doubted the girl's sincerity. Even +when the world, in return for our making it our whole life, disappoints +and defeats us with its prizes, we still question the truth of those who +question the value of these prizes; we think they must be hopeless of +them, or must be governed by some interest momentarily superior. + +Clementina pursued, "I know that you have had all you wanted of the +wo'ld--" + +"Oh, no!" the woman broke out, almost in anguish. "Not what I wanted! +What I tried for. It never gave me what I wanted. It--couldn't!" + +"Well?" + +"It isn't worth while in that sense. But if you can't have what you +want,--if there's been a hollow left in your life--why the world goes a +great way towards filling up the aching void." The tone of the last words +was lighter than their meaning, but Clementina weighed them aright. + +"Miss Milray," she said, pinching the edge of the table by which she sat, +a little nervously, and banging her head a little, "I think I can have +what I want." + +"Then, give the whole world for it, child!" + +"There is something I should like to tell you." + +"Yes!" + +"For you to advise me about." + +"I will, my dear, gladly and truly!" + +"He was here before you came. He asked me--" + +Miss Milray gave a start of alarm. She said, to gain time: "How did he +get here? I supposed he was in Germany with his--" + +"No; he was here the whole of May." + +"Mr. Gregory!" + +"Mr. Gregory?" Clementina's face flushed and drooped Still lower. "I +meant Mr. Hinkle. But if you think I oughtn't--" + +"I don't think anything; I'm so glad! I supposed from what you said about +the world, that it must be--But if it isn't, all the better. If it's Mr. +Hinkle that you can have--" + +"I'm not sure I can. I should like to tell you just how it is, and then +you will know." It needed fewer words for this than she expected, and +then Clementina took a letter from her pocket, and gave it to Miss +Milray. "He wrote it on the train, going away, and it's not very plain; +but I guess you can make it out." + +Miss Milray received the penciled leaves, which seemed to be pages torn +out of a note-book. They were dated the day Hinkle left Venice, and the +envelope bore the postmark of Verona. They were not addressed, but began +abruptly: "I believe I have made a mistake; I ought not to have given you +up till I knew something that no one but you can tell me. You are not +bound to any body unless you wish to be so. That is what I see now, and I +will not give you up if I can help it. Even if you had made a promise, +and then changed your mind, you would not be bound in such a thing as +this. I say this, and I know you will not believe I say it because I want +you. I do want you, but I would not urge you to break your faith. I only +ask you to realize that if you kept your word when your heart had gone +out of it, you would be breaking your faith; and if you broke your word +you would be keeping your faith. But if your heart is still in your word, +I have no more to say. Nobody knows but you. I would get out and take the +first train back to Venice if it were not for two things. I know it would +be hard on me; and I am afraid it might be hard on you. But if you will +write me a line at Milan, when you get this, or if you will write to me +at London before July; or at New York at any time--for I expect to wait +as long as I live--" + +The letter ended here in the local addresses which the writer gave. + +Miss Milray handed the leaves back to Clementina, who put them into her +pocket, and apparently waited for her questions. + +"And have you written?" + +"No," said the girl, slowly and thoughtfully, "I haven't. I wanted to, at +fust; and then, I thought that if he truly meant what he said he would be +willing to wait." + +"And why did you want to wait?" + +Clementina replied with a question of her own. "Miss Milray, what do you +think about Mr. Gregory?" + +"Oh, you mustn't ask me that, my dear! I was afraid I had told you too +plainly, the last time." + +"I don't mean about his letting me think he didn't ca'e for me, so long. +But don't you think he wants to do what is right! Mr. Gregory, I mean." + +"Well, if you put me on my honor, I'm afraid I do." + +"You see," Clementina resumed. "He was the fust one, and I did ca'e for +him a great deal; and I might have gone on caring for him, if--When I +found out that I didn't care any longer, or so much, it seemed to me as +if it must be wrong. Do you think it was?" + +"No--no." + +"When I got to thinking about some one else at fust it was only not +thinking about him--I was ashamed. Then I tried to make out that I was +too young in the fust place, to know whether I really ca'ed for any one +in the right way; but after I made out that I was, I couldn't feel +exactly easy--and I've been wanting to ask you, Miss Milray--" + +"Ask me anything you like, my dear!" + +"Why, it's only whether a person ought eva to change." + +"We change whether we ought, or not. It isn't a matter of duty, one way +or another." + +"Yes, but ought we to stop caring for somebody, when perhaps we shouldn't +if somebody else hadn't come between? That is the question." + +"No," Miss Milray retorted, "that isn't at all the question. The question +is which you want and whether you could get him. Whichever you want most +it is right for you to have." + +"Do you truly think so?" + +"I do, indeed. This is the one thing in life where one may choose safest +what one likes best; I mean if there is nothing bad in the man himself." + +"I was afraid it would be wrong! That was what I meant by wanting to be +fai'a with Mr. Gregory when I told you about him there in Florence. I +don't believe but what it had begun then." + +"What had begun?" + +"About Mr. Hinkle." + +Miss Milray burst into a laugh. "Clementina, you're delicious!" The girl +looked hurt, and Miss Milray asked seriously, "Why do you like Mr. Hinkle +best--if you do?" + +Clementina sighed. "Oh, I don't know. He's so resting." + +"Then that settles it. From first to last, what we poor women want is +rest. It would be a wicked thing for you to throw your life away on some +one who would worry you out of it. I don't wish to say any thing against +Mr. Gregory. I dare say he is good--and conscientious; but life is a +struggle, at the best, and it's your duty to take the best chance for +resting." + +Clementina did not look altogether convinced, whether it was Miss +Milray's logic or her morality that failed to convince her. She said, +after a moment, "I should like to see Mr. Gregory again." + +"What good would that do?" + +"Why, then I should know." + +"Know what?" + +"Whether I didn't really ca'e for him any more--or so much." + +"Clementina," said Miss Milray, "you mustn't make me lose patience with +you--" + +"No. But I thought you said that it was my duty to do what I wished." + +"Well, yes. That is what I said," Miss Milray consented. "But I supposed +that you knew already." + +"No," said Clementina, candidly, "I don't believe I do." + +"And what if you don't see him?" + +"I guess I shall have to wait till I do. The'e will be time enough." + +Miss Milray sighed, and then she laughed. "You ARE young!" + + + + +XXXII. + +Miss Milray went from Clementina to call upon her sister-in-law, and +found her brother, which was perhaps what she hoped might happen. + +"Do you know," she said, "that that old wretch is going to defraud that +poor thing, after all, and leave her money to her husband's half-sister's +children?" + +"You wish me to infer the Mrs. Lander--Clementina situation?" Milray +returned. + +"Yes!" + +"I'm glad you put it in terms that are not actionable, then; for your +words are decidedly libellous." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I've just been writing Mrs. Lander's will for her, and she's left all +her property to Clementina, except five thousand apiece to the +half-sister's three children." + +"I can't believe it!" + +"Well," said Milray, with his gentle smile, "I think that's safe ground +for you. Mrs. Lander will probably have time enough to change her will as +well as her mind several times yet before she dies. The half-sister's +children may get their rights yet." + +"I wish they might!" said Miss Milray, with an impassioned sigh. "Then +perhaps I should get Clementina--for a while." + +Her brother laughed. "Isn't there somebody else wants Clementina? + +"Oh, plenty. But she's not sure she wants anybody else." + +"Does she want you?" + +"No, I can't say she does. She wants to go home." + +"That's not a bad scheme. I should like to go home myself if I had one. +What would you have done with Clementina if you had got her, Jenny?" + +"What would any one have done with her? Married her brilliantly, of +course." + +"But you say she isn't sure she wishes to be married at all?" + +Miss Milray stated the case of Clementina's divided mind, and her belief +that she would take Hinkle in the end, together with the fear that she +might take Gregory. "She's very odd," Miss Milray concluded. "She puzzles +me. Why did you ever send her to me?" + +Milray laughed. "I don't know. I thought she would amuse you, and I +thought it would be a pleasure to her." + +They began to talk of some affairs of their own, from which Miss Milray +returned to Clementina with the ache of an imperfectly satisfied +intention. If she had meant to urge her brother to seek justice for the +girl from Mrs. Lander, she was not so well pleased to have found justice +done already. But the will had been duly signed and witnessed before the +American vice-consul, and she must get what good she could out of an +accomplished fact. It was at least a consolation to know that it put an +end to her sister-in-law's patronage of the girl, and it would be +interesting to see Mrs. Milray adapt her behavior to Clementina's +fortunes. She did not really dislike her sister-in-law enough to do her a +wrong; she was only willing that she should do herself a wrong. But one +of the most disappointing things in all hostile operations is that you +never can know what the enemy would be at; and Mrs. Milray's manoeuvres +were sometimes dictated by such impulses that her strategy was peculiarly +baffling. The thought of her past unkindness to Clementina may still have +rankled in her, or she may simply have felt the need of outdoing Miss +Milray by an unapproachable benefaction. It is certain that when Baron +Belsky came to Venice a few weeks after her own arrival, they began to +pose at each other with reference to Clementina; she with a measure of +consciousness, he with the singleness of a nature that was all pose. In +his forbearance to win Clementina from Gregory he had enjoyed the +distinction of an unique suffering; and in allowing the fact to impart +itself to Mrs. Milray, he bathed in the warmth of her flattering +sympathy. Before she withdrew this, as she must when she got tired of +him, she learned from him where Gregory was; for it seemed that Gregory +had so far forgiven the past that they had again written to each other. + +During the fortnight of Belsky's stay in Venice Mrs. Lander was much +worse, and Clementina met him only once, very briefly--She felt that he +had behaved like a very silly person, but that was all over now, and she +had no wish to punish him for it. At the end of his fortnight he went +northward into the Austrian Tyrol, and a few days later Gregory came down +from the Dolomites to Venice. + +It was in his favor with Clementina that he yielded to the impulse he had +to come directly to her; and that he let her know with the first words +that he had acted upon hopes given him through Belsky from Mrs. Milray. +He owned that he doubted the authority of either to give him these hopes, +but he said he could not abandon them without a last effort to see her, +and learn from her whether they were true or false. + +If she recognized the design of a magnificent reparation in what Mrs. +Milray had done, she did not give it much thought. Her mind was upon +distant things as she followed Gregory's explanation of his presence, and +in the muse in which she listened she seemed hardly to know when he +ceased speaking. + +"I know it must seem to take something for granted which I've no right to +take for granted. I don't believe you could think that I cared for +anything but you, or at all for what Mrs. Lander has done for you." + +"Do you mean her leaving me her money?" asked Clementina, with that +boldness her sex enjoys concerning matters of finance and affection. + +"Yes," said Gregory, blushing for her. "As far as I should ever have a +right to care, I could wish there were no money. It could bring no +blessing to our life. We could do no good with it; nothing but the +sacrifice of ourselves in poverty could be blessed to us." + +"That is what I thought, too," Clementina replied. + +"Oh, then you did think--" + +"But afterwards, I changed my Mind. If she wants to give me her money I +shall take it." + +Gregory was blankly silent again. + +"I shouldn't know how to refuse, and I don't know as I should have any +right to." Gregory shrank a little from her reyankeefied English, as well +as from the apparent cynicism of her speech; but he shrank in silence +still. She startled him by asking with a kindness that was almost +tenderness, "Mr. Gregory, how do you think anything has changed?" + +"Changed?" + +"You know how it was when you went away from Florence. Do you think +differently now? I don't. I don't think I ought to do something for you, +and pretend that I was doing it for religion. I don't believe the way you +do; and I know I neva shall. Do you want me in spite of my saying that I +can neva help you in your work because I believe in it?" + +"But if you believe in me--" + +She shook her head compassionately. "You know we ahgued that out before. +We are just whe'e we were. I am sorry. Nobody had any right to tell you +to come he'e. But I am glad you came--" She saw the hope that lighted up +his face, but she went on unrelentingly--"I think we had betta be free." + +"Free?" + +"Yes, from each other. I don't know how you have felt, but I have not +felt free. It has seemed to me that I promised you something. If I did, I +want to take my promise back and be free." + +Her frankness appealed to his own. "You are free. I never held you bound +to me in my fondest hopes. You have always done right." + +"I have tried to. And I am not going to let you go away thinking that the +reason I said is the only reason. It isn't. I wish to be free +because--there is some one else, now." It was hard to tell him this, but +she knew that she must not do less; and the train that carried him from +Venice that night bore a letter from her to Hinkle. + + + + +XXXIII. + +Clementina told Miss Milray what had happened, but with Mrs. Milray the +girl left the sudden departure of Gregory to account for itself. + +They all went a week later, and Mrs. Milray having now done her whole +duty to Clementina had the easiest mind concerning her. Miss Milray felt +that she was leaving her to greater trials than ever with Mrs. Lander; +but since there was nothing else, she submitted, as people always do with +the trials of others, and when she was once away she began to forget her. + +By this time, however, it was really better for her. With no one to +suspect of tampering with her allegiance, Mrs. Lander returned to her +former fondness for the girl, and they were more peaceful if not happier +together again. They had long talks, such as they used to have, and in +the first of these Clementina told her how and why she had written to Mr. +Hinkle. Mrs. Lander said that it suited her exactly. + +"There ha'n't but just two men in Europe behaved like gentlemen to me, +and one is Mr. Hinkle, and the other is that lo'd; and between the two I +ratha you'd have Mr. Hinkle; I don't know as I believe much in American +guls marryin' lo'ds, the best of 'em." + +Clementina laughed. "Why, Mrs. Landa, Lo'd Lioncou't never thought of me +in the wo'ld!" + +"You can't eva know. Mrs. Milray was tellin' that he's what they call a +pooa lo'd, and that he was carryin' on with the American girls like +everything down there in Egypt last winta. I guess if it comes to money +you'd have enough to buy him and sell him again." + +The mention of money cast a chill upon their talk; and Mrs. Lander said +gloomily, "I don't know as I ca'e so much for that will Mr. Milray made +for me, after all. I did want to say ten thousand apiece for Mr. Landa's +relations; but I hated to befo'e him; I'd told the whole kit of 'em so +much about you, and I knew what they would think." + +She looked at Clementina with recurring grudge, and the girl could not +bear it. + +"Then why don't you tear it up, and make another? I don't want anything, +unless you want me to have it; and I'd ratha not have anything." + +"Yes, and what would folks say, afta youa taken' care of me?" + +"Do you think I do it fo' that?" + +"What do you do it fo'?" + +"What did you want me to come with you fo'?" + +"That's true." Mrs. Lander brightened and warmed again. "I guess it's all +right. I guess I done right, and I got to be satisfied. I presume I could +get the consul to make me a will any time." + +Clementina did not relent so easily. "Mrs. Landa, whateva you do I don't +ca'e to know it; and if you talk to me again about this I shall go home. +I would stay with you as long as you needed me, but I can't if you keep +bringing this up." + +"I suppose you think you don't need me any moa! Betta not be too su'a." + +The girl jumped to her feet, and Mrs. Lander interposed. "Well, the'a! I +didn't mean anything, and I won't pesta you about it any moa. But I think +it's pretty ha'd. Who am I going to talk it ova with, then?" + +"You can talk it ova with the vice-consul," paid Clementina, at random. + +"Well, that's so." Mrs. Lander let Clementina get her ready for the +night, in sign of returning amity; when she was angry with her she always +refused her help, and made her send Maddalena. + +The summer heat increased, and the sick woman suffered from it, but she +could not be persuaded that she had strength to get away, though the +vice-consul, whom she advised with, used all his logic with her. He was a +gaunt and weary widower, who described himself as being officially +between hay and grass; the consul who appointed him had resigned after +going home, and a new consul had not yet been sent out to remove him. On +what she called her well days Mrs. Lander went to visit him, and she did +not mind his being in his shirt-sleeves, in the bit of garden where she +commonly found him, with his collar and cravat off, and clouded in his +own smoke; when she was sick she sent for him, to visit her. He made +excuses as often as he could, and if he saw Mrs. Lander's gondola coming +down the Grand Canal to his house he hurried on his cast clothing, and +escaped to the Piazza, at whatever discomfort and risk from the heat. + +"I don't know how you stand it, Miss Claxon," he complained to +Clementina, as soon as he learned that she was not a blood relation of +Mrs. Lander's, and divined that she had her own reservations concerning +her. "But that woman will be the death of me if she keeps this up. What +does she think I'm here for? If this goes on much longer I'll resign. The +salary won't begin to pay for it. What am I going to do? I don't want to +hurt her feelings, or not to help her; but I know ten times as much about +Mrs. Lander's liver as I do about my own, now." + +He treated Clementina as a person of mature judgment and a sage +discretion, and he accepted what comfort she could offer him when she +explained that it was everything for Mrs. Lander to have him to talk +with. "She gets tied of talking to me," she urged, "and there's nobody +else, now." + +"Why don't she hire a valet de place, and talk to him? I'd hire one +myself for her. It would be a good deal cheaper for me. It's as much as I +can do to stand this weather as it is." + +The vice-consul laughed forlornly in his exasperation, but he agreed with +Clementina when she said, in further excuse, that Mrs. Lander was really +very sick. He pushed back his hat, and scratched his head with a grimace. + +"Of course, we've got to remember she's sick, and I shall need a little +sympathy myself if she keeps on at me this way. I believe I'll tell her +about my liver next time, and see how she likes it. Look here, Miss +Claxon! Couldn't we get her off to some of those German watering places +that are good for her complaints? I believe it would be the best thing +for her--not to mention me." + +Mrs. Lander was moved by the suggestion which he made in person +afterwards; it appealed to her old nomadic instinct; but when the consul +was gone she gave it up. "We couldn't git the'e, Clementina. I got to +stay he'e till I git up my stren'th. I suppose you'd be glad enough to +have me sta't, now the'e's nobody he'e but me," she added, suspiciously. +"You git this scheme up, or him?" + +Clementina did not defend herself, and Mrs. Lander presently came to her +defence. "I don't believe but what he meant it fo' the best--or you, +whichever it was, and I appreciate it; but all is I couldn't git off. I +guess this aia will do me as much good as anything, come to have it a +little coola." + +They went every afternoon to the Lido, where a wheeled chair met them, +and Mrs. Lander was trundled across the narrow island to the beach. In +the evenings they went to the Piazza, where their faces and figures had +become known, and the Venetians gossipped them down to the last fact of +their relation with an accuracy creditable to their ingenuity in the +affairs of others. To them Mrs. Lander was the sick American, very rich, +and Clementina was her adoptive daughter, who would have her millions +after her. Neither knew the character they bore to the amiable and +inquisitive public of the Piazza, or cared for the fine eyes that aimed +their steadfast gaze at them along the tubes of straw-barreled Virginia +cigars, or across little cups of coffee. Mrs. Lander merely remarked that +the Venetians seemed great for gaping, and Clementina was for the most +part innocent of their stare. + +She rested in the choice she had made in a content which was qualified by +no misgiving. She was sorry for Gregory, when she remembered him; but her +thought was filled with some one else, and she waited in faith and +patience for the answer which should come to the letter she had written. +She did not know where her letter would find him, or when she should hear +from him; she believed that she should hear, and that was enough. She +said to herself that she would not lose hope if no answer came for +months; but in her heart she fixed a date for the answer by letter, and +an earlier date for some word by cable; but she feigned that she did not +depend upon this; and when no word came she convinced herself that she +had not expected any. + +It was nearing the end of the term which she had tacitly given her lover +to make the first sign by letter, when one morning Mrs. Lander woke her. +She wished to say that she had got the strength to leave Venice at last, +and she was going as soon as their trunks could be packed. She had +dressed herself, and she moved about restless and excited. Clementina +tried to reason her out of her haste; but she irritated her, and fixed +her in her determination. "I want to get away, I tell you; I want to get +away," she answered all persuasion, and there seemed something in her +like the wish to escape from more than the oppressive environment, though +she spoke of nothing but the heat and the smell of the canal. "I believe +it's that, moa than any one thing, that's kept me sick he'e," she said. +"I tell you it's the malariar, and you'll be down, too, if you stay." + +She made Clementina go to the banker's, and get money to pay their +landlord's bill, and she gave him notice that they were going that +afternoon. Clementina wished to delay till they had seen the vice-consul +and the doctor; but Mrs. Lander broke out, "I don't want to see 'em, +either of 'em. The docta wants to keep me he'e and make money out of me; +I undastand him; and I don't believe that consul's a bit too good to take +a pussentage. Now, don't you say a wo'd to either of 'em. If you don't do +exactly what I tell you I'll go away and leave you he'e. Now, will you?" + +Clementina promised, and broke her word. She went to the vice-consul and +told him she had broken it, and she agreed with him that he had better +not come unless Mrs. Lander sent for him. The doctor promptly imagined +the situation and said he would come in casually during the morning, so +as not to alarm the invalid's suspicions. He owned that Mrs. Lander was +getting no good from remaining in Venice, and if it were possible for her +to go, he said she had better go somewhere into cooler and higher air. + +His opinion restored him to Mrs. Lander's esteem, when it was expressed +to her, and as she was left to fix the sum of her debt to him, she made +it handsomer than anything he had dreamed of. She held out against seeing +the vice-consul till the landlord sent in his account. This was for the +whole month which she had just entered upon, and it included fantastic +charges for things hitherto included in the rent, not only for the +current month, but for the months past when, the landlord explained, he +had forgotten to note them. Mrs. Lander refused to pay these demands, for +they touched her in some of those economies which the gross rich practice +amidst their profusion. The landlord replied that she could not leave his +house, either with or without her effects, until she had paid. He +declared Clementina his prisoner, too, and he would not send for the +vice-consul at Mrs. Lander's bidding. How far he was within his rights in +all this they could not know, but he was perhaps himself doubtful, and he +consented to let them send for the doctor, who, when he came, behaved +like anything but the steadfast friend that Mrs. Lander supposed she had +bought in him. He advised paying the account without regard to its +justice, as the shortest and simplest way out of the trouble; but Mrs. +Lander, who saw him talking amicably and even respectfully with the +landlord, when he ought to have treated him as an extortionate scamp, +returned to her former ill opinion of him; and the vice-consul now +appeared the friend that Doctor Tradonico had falsely seemed. The doctor +consented, in leaving her to her contempt of him, to carry a message to +the vice-consul, though he came back, with his finger at the side of his +nose, to charge her by no means to betray his bold championship to the +landlord. + +The vice-consul made none of those shows of authority which Mrs. Lander +had expected of him. She saw him even exchanging the common decencies +with the landlord, when they met; but in fact it was not hard to treat +the smiling and courteous rogue well. In all their disagreement he had +looked as constantly to the comfort of his captives as if they had been +his chosen guests. He sent Mrs. Lander a much needed refreshment at the +stormiest moment of her indignation, and he deprecated without retort the +denunciations aimed at him in Italian which did not perhaps carry so far +as his conscience. The consul talked with him in a calm scarcely less +shameful than that of Dr. Tradonico; and at the end of their parley which +she had insisted upon witnessing, he said: + +"Well, Mrs. Lander, you've got to stand this gouge or you've got to stand +a law suit. I think the gouge would be cheaper in the end. You see, he's +got a right to his month's rent." + +"It ain't the rent I ca'e for: it's the candles, and the suvvice, and the +things he says we broke. It was undastood that everything was to be in +the rent, and his two old chaias went to pieces of themselves when we +tried to pull 'em out from the wall; and I'll neva pay for 'em in the +wo'ld." + +"Why," the vice-consul pleaded, "it's only about forty francs for the +whole thing--" + +"I don't care if it's only fotty cents. And I must say, Mr. Bennam, +you're about the strangest vice-consul, to want me to do it, that I eva +saw." + +The vice-consul laughed unresentfully. "Well, shall I send you a lawyer?" + +"No!" Mrs. Lander retorted; and after a moment's reflection she added, +"I'm goin' to stay my month, and so you may tell him, and then I'll see +whetha he can make me pay for that breakage and the candles and suvvice. +I'm all wore out, as it is, and I ain't fit to travel, now, and I don't +know when I shall be. Clementina, you can go and tell Maddalena to stop +packin'. Or, no! I'll do it." + +She left the room without further notice of the consul, who said ruefully +to Clementina, "Well, I've missed my chance, Miss Claxon, but I guess +she's done the wisest thing for herself." + +"Oh, yes, she's not fit to go. She must stay, now, till it's coola. Will +you tell the landlo'd, or shall--" + +"I'll tell him," said the vice-consul, and he had in the landlord. He +received her message with the pleasure of a host whose cherished guests +have consented to remain a while longer, and in the rush of his good +feeling he offered, if the charge for breakage seemed unjust to the +vice-consul, to abate it; and since the signora had not understood that +she was to pay extra for the other things, he would allow the vice-consul +to adjust the differences between them; it was a trifle, and he wished +above all things to content the signora, for whom he professed a cordial +esteem both on his own part and the part of all his family. + +"Then that lets me out for the present," said the vice-consul, when +Clementina repeated Mrs. Lander's acquiescence in the landlord's +proposals, and he took his straw hat, and called a gondola from the +nearest 'traghetto', and bargained at an expense consistent with his +salary, to have himself rowed back to his own garden-gate. + +The rest of the day was an era of better feeling between Mrs. Lander and +her host than they had ever known, and at dinner he brought in with his +own hand a dish which he said he had caused to be specially made for her. +It was so tempting in odor and complexion that Mrs. Lander declared she +must taste it, though as she justly said, she had eaten too much already; +when it had once tasted it she ate it all, against Clementina's +protestations; she announced at the end that every bite had done her +good, and that she never felt better in her life. She passed a happy +evening, with renewed faith in the air of the lagoon; her sole regret now +was that Mr. Lander had not lived to try it with her, for if he had she +was sure he would have been alive at that moment. + +She allowed herself to be got to bed rather earlier than usual; before +Clementina dropped asleep she heard her breathing with long, easy, quiet +respirations, and she lost the fear of the landlord's dish which had +haunted her through the evening. She was awakened in the morning by a +touch on her shoulder. Maddalena hung over her with a frightened face, +and implored her to come and look at the signora, who seemed not at all +well. Clementina ran into her room, and found her dead. She must have +died some hours before without a struggle, for the face was that of +sleep, and it had a dignity and beauty which it had not worn in her life +of self-indulgent wilfulness for so many years that the girl had never +seen it look so before. + + + + +XXXIV. + +The vice-consul was not sure how far his powers went in the situation +with which Mrs. Lander had finally embarrassed him. But he met the new +difficulties with patience, and he agreed with Clementina that they ought +to see if Mrs. Lander had left any written expression of her wishes +concerning the event. She had never spoken of such a chance, but had +always looked forward to getting well and going home, so far as the girl +knew, and the most careful search now brought to light nothing that bore +upon it. In the absence of instructions to the contrary, they did what +they must, and the body, emptied of its life of senseless worry and +greedy care, was laid to rest in the island cemetery of Venice. + +When all was over, the vice-consul ventured an observation which he had +hitherto delicately withheld. The question of Mrs. Lander's kindred had +already been discussed between him and Clementina, and he now felt that +another question had duly presented itself. "You didn't notice," he +suggested, "anything like a will when we went over the papers?" He had +looked carefully for it, expecting that there might have been some +expression of Mrs. Lander's wishes in it. "Because," he added, "I happen +to know that Mr. Milray drew one up for her; I witnessed it." + +"No," said Clementina, "I didn't see anything of it. She told me she had +made a will; but she didn't quite like it, and sometimes she thought she +would change it. She spoke of getting you to do it; I didn't know but she +had." + +The vice-consul shook his head. "No. And these relations of her husband's +up in Michigan; you don't know where they live, exactly?" + +"No. She neva told me; she wouldn't; she didn't like to talk about them; +I don't even know their names." + +The vice-consul thoughtfully scratched a corner of his chin through his +beard. "If there isn't any will, they're the heirs. I used to be a sort +of wild-cat lawyer, and I know that much law." + +"Yes," said Clementina. "She left them five thousand dollas apiece. She +said she wished she had made it ten." + +"I guess she's made it a good deal more, if she's made it anything. Miss +Claxon, don't you understand that if no will turns up, they come in for +all her money. + +"Well, that's what I thought they ought to do," said Clementina. + +"And do you understand that if that's so, you don't come in for anything? +You must excuse me for mentioning it; but she has told everybody that you +were to have it, and if there is no will--" + +He stopped and bent an eye of lack-lustre compassion on the girl, who +replied, "Oh, yes. I know that; it's what I always told her to do. I +didn't want it." + +"You didn't want it?" + +"No." + +"Well!" The vice-consul stared at her, but he forbore the comment that +her indifference inspired. He said after a pause, "Then what we've got to +do is to advertise for the Michigan relations, and let 'em take any +action they want to." + +"That's the only thing we could do, I presume." + +This gave the vice-consul another pause. At the end of it he got to his +feet. "Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Claxon?" + +She went to her portfolio and produced Mrs. Lander's letter of credit. It +had been made out for three thousand pounds, in Clementina's name as well +as her own; but she had lived wastefully since she had come abroad, and +little money remained to be taken up. With the letter Clementina handed +the vice-consul the roll of Italian and Austrian bank-notes which she had +drawn when Mrs. Lander decided to leave Venice; they were to the amount +of several thousand lire and golden. She offered them with the +insensibility to the quality of money which so many women have, and which +is always so astonishing to men. "What must I do with these?" she asked. + +"Why, keep them! returned the vice-consul on the spur of his surprise. + +"I don't know as I should have any right to," said Clementina. "They were +hers." + +"Why, but"--The vice-consul began his protest, but he could not end it +logically, and he did not end it at all. He insisted with Clementina that +she had a right to some money which Mrs. Lander had given her during her +life; he took charge of the bank-notes in the interest of the possible +heirs, and gave her his receipt for them. In the meantime he felt that he +ought to ask her what she expected to do. + +"I think," she said, "I will stay in Venice awhile." + +The vice-consul suppressed any surprise he might have felt at a decision +given with mystifying cheerfulness. He answered, Well, that was right; +and for the second time he asked her if there was anything he could do +for her. + +"Why, yes," she returned. "I should like to stay on in the house here, if +you could speak for me to the padrone." + +"I don't see why you shouldn't, if we can make the padrone understand +it's different." + +"You mean about the price?" The vice-consul nodded. "That's what I want +you should speak to him about, Mr. Bennam, if you would. Tell him that I +haven't got but a little money now, and he would have to make it very +reasonable. That is, if you think it would be right for me to stay, afta +the way he tried to treat Mrs. Lander." + +The vice-consul gave the point some thought, and decided that the +attempted extortion need not make any difference with Clementina, if she +could get the right terms. He said he did not believe the padrone was a +bad fellow, but he liked to take advantage of a stranger when he could; +we all did. When he came to talk with him he found him a man of heart if +not of conscience. He entered into the case with the prompt intelligence +and vivid sympathy of his race, and he made it easy for Clementina to +stay till she had heard from her friends in America. For himself and for +his wife, he professed that she could not stay too long, and they +proposed that if it would content the signorina still further they would +employ Maddalena as chambermaid till she wished to return to Florence; +she had offered to remain if the signorina stayed. + +"Then that is settled," said Clementina with a sigh of relief; and she +thanked the vice-consul for his offer to write to the Milrays for her, +and said that she would rather write herself. + +She meant to write as soon as she heard from Mr. Hinkle, which could not +be long now, for then she could be independent of the offers of help +which she dreaded from Miss Milray, even more than from Mrs. Milray; it +would be harder to refuse them; and she entered upon a passage of her +life which a nature less simple would have found much more trying. But +she had the power of taking everything as if it were as much to be +expected as anything else. If nothing at all happened she accepted the +situation with implicit resignation, and with a gayety of heart which +availed her long, and never wholly left her. + +While the suspense lasted she could not write home as frankly as before, +and she sent off letters to Middlemount which treated of her delay in +Venice with helpless reticence. They would have set another sort of +household intolerably wondering and suspecting, but she had the comfort +of knowing that her father would probably settle the whole matter by +saying that she would tell what she meant when she got round to it; and +apart from this she had mainly the comfort of the vice-consul's society. +He had little to do besides looking after her, and he employed himself +about this in daily visits which the padrone and his wife regarded as +official, and promoted with a serious respect for the vice-consular +dignity. If the visits ended, as they often did, in a turn on the Grand +Canal, and an ice in the Piazza, they appealed to the imagination of more +sophisticated witnesses, who decided that the young American girl had +inherited the millions of the sick lady, and become the betrothed of the +vice-consul, and that they were thus passing the days of their engagement +in conformity to the American custom, however much at variance with that +of other civilizations. + +This view of the affair was known to Maddalena, but not to Clementina, +who in those days went back in many things to the tradition of her life +at Middlemount. The vice-consul was of a tradition almost as simple, and +his longer experience set no very wide interval between them. It quickly +came to his telling her all about his dead wife and his married +daughters, and how, after his home was broken up, he thought he would +travel a little and see what that would do for him. He confessed that it +had not done much; he was always homesick, and he was ready to go as soon +as the President sent out a consul to take his job off his hands. He said +that he had not enjoyed himself so much since he came to Venice as he was +doing now, and that he did not know what he should do if Clementina first +got her call home. He betrayed no curiosity as to the peculiar +circumstances of her stay, but affected to regard it as something quite +normal, and he watched over her in every way with a fatherly as well as +an official vigilance which never degenerated into the semblance of any +other feeling. Clementina rested in his care in entire security. The +world had quite fallen from her, or so much of it as she had seen at +Florence, and in her indifference she lapsed into life as it was in the +time before that with a tender renewal of her allegiance to it. There was +nothing in the conversation of the vice-consul to distract her from this; +and she said and did the things at Venice that she used to do at +Middlemount, as nearly as she could; to make the days of waiting pass +more quickly, she tried to serve herself in ways that scandalized the +proud affection of Maddalena. It was not fit for the signorina to make +her bed or sweep her room; she might sew and knit if she would; but these +other things were for servants like herself. She continued in the faith +of Clementina's gentility, and saw her always as she had seen her first +in the brief hour of her social splendor in Florence. Clementina tried to +make her understand how she lived at Middlemount, but she only brought +before Maddalena the humiliating image of a contadina, which she rejected +not only in Clementina's behalf, but that of Miss Milray. She told her +that she was laughing at her, and she was fixed in her belief when the +girl laughed at that notion. Her poverty she easily conceived of; plenty +of signorine in Italy were poor; and she protected her in it with the +duty she did not divide quite evenly between her and the padrone. + +The date which Clementina had fixed for hearing from Hinkle by cable had +long passed, and the time when she first hoped to hear from him by letter +had come and gone. Her address was with the vice-consul as Mrs. Lander's +had been, and he could not be ignorant of her disappointment when he +brought her letters which she said were from home. On the surface of +things it could only be from home that she wished to hear, but beneath +the surface he read an anxiety which mounted with each gratification of +this wish. He had not seen much of the girl while Hinkle was in Venice; +Mrs. Lander had not begun to make such constant use of him until Hinkle +had gone; Mrs. Milray had told him of Clementina's earlier romance, and +it was to Gregory that the vice-consul related the anxiety which he knew +as little in its nature as in its object. + +Clementina never doubted the good faith or constancy of her lover; but +her heart misgave her as to his well-being when it sank at each failure +of the vice-consul to bring her a letter from him. Something must have +happened to him, and it must have been something very serious to keep him +from writing; or there was some mistake of the post-office. The +vice-consul indulged himself in personal inquiries to make sure that the +mistake was not in the Venetian post-office; but he saw that he brought +her greater distress in ascertaining the fact. He got to dreading a look +of resolute cheerfulness that came into her face, when he shook his head +in sign that there were no letters, and he suffered from the covert +eagerness with which she glanced at the superscriptions of those he +brought and failed to find the hoped-for letter among them. Ordeal for +ordeal, he was beginning to regret his trials under Mrs. Lander. In them +he could at least demand Clementina's sympathy, but against herself this +was impossible. Once she noted his mute distress at hers, and broke into +a little laugh that he found very harrowing. + +"I guess you hate it almost as much as I do, Mr. Bennam." + +"I guess I do. I've half a mind to write the letter you want, myself." + +"I've half a mind to let you--or the letter I'd like to write." + +It had come to her thinking she would write again to Hinkle; but she +could not bring herself to do it. She often imagined doing it; she had +every word of such a letter in her mind; and she dramatized every fact +concerning it from the time she should put pen to paper, to the time when +she should get back the answer that cleared the mystery of his silence +away. The fond reveries helped her to bear her suspense; they helped to +make the days go by, to ease the doubt with which she lay down at night, +and the heartsick hope with which she rose up in the morning. + +One day, at the hour of his wonted visit, she saw the vice-consul from +her balcony coming, as it seemed to her, with another figure in his +gondola, and a thousand conjectures whirled through her mind, and then +centred upon one idea. After the first glance she kept her eyes down, and +would not look again while she told herself incessantly that it could not +be, and that she was a fool and a goose and a perfect coot, to think of +such a thing for a single moment. When she allowed herself, or forced +herself, to look a second time; as the boat drew near, she had to cling +to the balcony parapet for support, in her disappointment. + +The person whom the vice-consul helped out of the gondola was an elderly +man like himself, and she took a last refuge in the chance that he might +be Hinkle's father, sent to bring her to him because he could not come to +her; or to soften some terrible news to her. Then her fancy fluttered and +fell, and she waited patiently for the fact to reveal itself. There was +something countrified in the figure of the man, and something clerical in +his face, though there was nothing in his uncouth best clothes that +confirmed this impression. In both face and figure there was a vague +resemblance to some one she had seen before, when the vice-consul said: + +"Miss Claxon, I want to introduce the Rev. Mr. James B. Orson, of +Michigan." Mr. Orson took Clementina's hand into a dry, rough grasp, +while he peered into her face with small, shy eyes. The vice-consul added +with a kind of official formality, "Mr. Orson is the half-nephew of Mr. +Lander," and then Clementina now knew whom it was that he resembled. "He +has come to Venice," continued the vice-consul, "at the request of Mrs. +Lander; and he did not know of her death until I informed him of the +fact. I should have said that Mr. Orson is the son of Mr. Lander's +half-sister. He can tell you the balance himself." The vice-consul +pronounced the concluding word with a certain distaste, and the effect of +gladly retiring into the background. + +"Won't you sit down?" said Clementina, and she added with one of the +remnants of her Middlemount breeding, "Won't you let me take your hat?" + +Mr. Orson in trying to comply with both her invitations, knocked his well +worn silk hat from the hand that held it, and sent it rolling across the +room, where Clementina pursued it and put it on the table. + +"I may as well say at once," he began in a flat irresonant voice, "that I +am the representative of Mrs. Lander's heirs, and that I have a letter +from her enclosing her last will and testament, which I have shown to the +consul here--" + +"Vice-consul," the dignitary interrupted with an effect of rejecting any +part in the affair. + +"Vice-consul, I should say,--and I wish to lay them both before you, in +order that--" + +"Oh, that is all right," said Clementina sweetly. "I'm glad there is a +will. I was afraid there wasn't any at all. Mr. Bennam and I looked for +it everywhe'e." She smiled upon the Rev. Mr. Orson, who silently handed +her a paper. It was the will which Milray had written for Mrs. Lander, +and which, with whatever crazy motive, she had sent to her husband's +kindred. It provided that each of them should be given five thousand +dollars out of the estate, and that then all should go to Clementina. It +was the will Mrs. Lander told her she had made, but she had never seen +the paper before, and the legal forms hid the meaning from her so that +she was glad to have the vice-consul make it clear. Then she said +tranquilly, "Yes, that is the way I supposed it was." + +Mr. Orson by no means shared her calm. He did not lift his voice, but on +the level it had taken it became agitated. "Mrs. Lander gave me the +address of her lawyer in Boston when she sent me the will, and I made a +point of calling on him when I went East, to sail. I don't know why she +wished me to come out to her, but being sick, I presume she naturally +wished to see some of her own family." + +He looked at Clementina as if he thought she might dispute this, but she +consented at her sweetest, "Oh, yes, indeed," and he went on: + +"I found her affairs in a very different condition from what she seemed +to think. The estate was mostly in securities which had not been properly +looked after, and they had depreciated until they were some of them not +worth the paper they were printed on. The house in Boston is mortgaged up +to its full value, I should say; and I should say that Mrs. Lander did +not know where she stood. She seemed to think that she was a very rich +woman, but she lived high, and her lawyer said he never could make her +understand how the money was going. Mr. Lander seemed to lose his grip, +the year he died, and engaged in some very unfortunate speculations; I +don't know whether he told her. I might enter into details--" + +"Oh, that is not necessary," said Clementina, politely, witless of the +disastrous quality of the facts which Mr. Orson was imparting. + +"But the sum and substance of it all is that there will not be more than +enough to pay the bequests to her own family, if there is that." + +Clementina looked with smiling innocence at the vice-consul. + +"That is to say," he explained, "there won't be anything at all for you, +Miss Claxon." + +"Well, that's what I always told Mrs. Lander I ratha, when she brought it +up. I told her she ought to give it to his family," said Clementina, with +a satisfaction in the event which the vice-consul seemed unable to share, +for he remained gloomily silent. "There is that last money I drew on the +letter of credit, you can give that to Mr. Orson." + +"I have told him about that money," said the vice-consul, dryly. "It will +be handed over to him when the estate is settled, if there isn't enough +to pay the bequests without it." + +"And the money which Mrs. Landa gave me before that," she pursued, +eagerly. Mr. Orson had the effect of pricking up his ears, though it was +in fact merely a gleam of light that came into his eyes. + +"That's yours," said the vice-consul, sourly, almost savagely. "She +didn't give it to you without she wanted you to have it, and she didn't +expect you to pay her bequests with it. In my opinion," he burst out, in +a wrathful recollection of his own sufferings from Mrs. Lander, "she +didn't give you a millionth part of your due for all the trouble she made +you; and I want Mr. Orson to understand that, right here." + +Clementina turned her impartial gaze upon Mr. Orson as if to verify the +impression of this extreme opinion upon him; he looked as if he neither +accepted nor rejected it, and she concluded the sentence which the +vice-consul had interrupted. "Because I ratha not keep it, if there isn't +enough without it." + +The vice-consul gave way to violence. "It's none of your business whether +there's enough or not. What you've got to do is to keep what belongs to +you, and I'm going to see that you do. That's what I'm here for." If this +assumption of official authority did not awe Clementina, at least it put +a check upon her headlong self-sacrifice. The vice-consul strengthened +his hold upon her by asking, "What would you do. I should like to know, +if you gave that up?" + +"Oh, I should get along," she returned, light-heartedly, but upon +questioning herself whether she should turn to Miss Milray for help, or +appeal to the vice-consul himself, she was daunted a little, and she +added, "But just as you say, Mr. Bennam." + +"I say, keep what fairly belongs to you. It's only two or three hundred +dollars at the outside," he explained to Mr. Orson's hungry eyes; but +perhaps the sum did not affect the country minister's imagination as +trifling; his yearly salary must sometimes have been little more. + +The whole interview left the vice-consul out of humor with both parties +to the affair; and as to Clementina, between the ideals of a perfect +little saint, and a perfect little simpleton he remained for the present +unable to class her. + + + + +XXXV. + +Clementina and the Vice-Consul afterwards agreed that Mrs. Lander must +have sent the will to Mr. Orson in one of those moments of suspicion when +she distrusted everyone about her, or in that trouble concerning her +husband's kindred which had grown upon her more and more, as a means of +assuring them that they were provided for. + +"But even then," the vice-consul concluded, "I don't see why she wanted +this man to come out here. The only explanation is that she was a little +off her base towards the last. That's the charitable supposition." + +"I don't think she was herself, some of the time," Clementina assented in +acceptance of the kindly construction. + +The vice-consul modified his good will toward Mrs. Lander's memory so far +as to say, "Well, if she'd been somebody else most of the time, it would +have been an improvement." + +The talk turned upon Mr. Orson, and what he would probably do. The +vice-consul had found him a cheap lodging, at his request, and he seemed +to have settled down at Venice either without the will or without the +power to go home, but the vice-consul did not know where he ate, or what +he did with himself except at the times when he came for letters. Once or +twice when he looked him up he found him writing, and then the minister +explained that he had promised to "correspond" for an organ of his sect +in the Northwest; but he owned that there was no money in it. He was +otherwise reticent and even furtive in his manner. He did not seem to go +much about the city, but kept to his own room; and if he was writing of +Venice it must have been chiefly from his acquaintance with the little +court into which his windows looked. He affected the vice-consul as +forlorn and helpless, and he pitied him and rather liked him as a +fellow-victim of Mrs. Lander. + +One morning Mr. Orson came to see Clementina, and after a brief passage +of opinion upon the weather, he fell into an embarrassed silence from +which he pulled himself at last with a visible effort. "I hardly know how +to lay before you what I have to say, Miss Claxon," he began, "and I must +ask you to put the best construction upon it. I have never been reduced +to a similar distress before. You would naturally think that I would turn +to the vice-consul, on such an occasion; but I feel, through our relation +to the--to Mrs. Lander--ah--somewhat more at home with you." + +He stopped, as if he wished to be asked his business, and she entreated +him, "Why, what is it, Mr. Osson? Is there something I can do? There +isn't anything I wouldn't!" + +A gleam, watery and faint, which still could not be quite winked away, +came into his small eyes. "Why, the fact is, could you--ah--advance me +about five dollars?" + +"Why, Mr. Orson!" she began, and he seemed to think she wished to +withdraw her offer of help, for he interposed. + +"I will repay it as soon as I get an expected remittance from home. I +came out on the invitation of Mrs. Lander, and as her guest, and I +supposed--" + +"Oh, don't say a wo'd!" cried Clementina, but now that he had begun he +was powerless to stop. + +"I would not ask, but my landlady has pressed me for her rent--I suppose +she needs it--and I have been reduced to the last copper--" + +The girl whose eyes the tears of self pity so rarely visited, broke into +a sob that seemed to surprise her visitor. But she checked herself as +with a quick inspiration: "Have you been to breakfast?" + +"Well--ah--not this morning," Mr. Orson admitted, as if to imply that +having breakfasted some other morning might be supposed to serve the +purpose. + +She left him and ran to the door. "Maddalena, Maddalena!" she called; and +Maddalena responded with a frightened voice from the direction of the +kitchen: + +"Vengo subito!" + +She hurried out with the coffee-pot in her hand, as if she had just taken +it up when Clementina called; and she halted for the whispered colloquy +between them which took place before she set it down on the table already +laid for breakfast; then she hurried out of the room again. She came back +with a cantaloupe and grapes, and cold ham, and put them before +Clementina and her guest, who both ignored the hunger with which he swept +everything before him. When his famine had left nothing, he said, in +decorous compliment: + +"That is very good coffee, I should think the genuine berry, though I am +told that they adulterate coffee a great deal in Europe." + +"Do they?" asked Clementina. "I didn't know it." + +She left him still sitting before the table, and came back with some +bank-notes in her hand. "Are you sure you hadn't betta take moa?" she +asked. + +"I think that five dollars will be all that I shall require," he +answered, with dignity. "I should be unwilling to accept more. I shall +undoubtedly receive some remittances soon." + +"Oh, I know you will," Clementina returned, and she added, "I am waiting +for lettas myself; I don't think any one ought to give up." + +The preacher ignored the appeal which was in her tone rather than her +words, and went on to explain at length the circumstances of his having +come to Europe so unprovided against chances. When he wished to excuse +his imprudence, she cried out, "Oh, don't say a wo'd! It's just like my +own fatha," and she told him some things of her home which apparently did +not interest him very much. He had a kind of dull, cold self-absorption +in which he was indeed so little like her father that only her kindness +for the lonely man could have justified her in thinking there was any +resemblance. + +She did not see him again for a week, and meantime she did not tell the +vice-consul of what had happened. But an anxiety for the minister began +to mingle with her anxieties for herself; she constantly wondered why she +did not hear from her lover, and she occasionally wondered whether Mr. +Orson were not falling into want again. She had decided to betray his +condition to the vice-consul, when he came, bringing the money she had +lent him. He had received a remittance from an unexpected source; and he +hoped she would excuse his delay in repaying her loan. She wished not to +take the money, at least till he was quite sure he should not want it, +but he insisted. + +"I have enough to keep me, now, till I hear from other sources, with the +means for returning home. I see no object in continuing here, under the +circumstances." + +In the relief which she felt for him Clementina's heart throbbed with a +pain which was all for herself. Why should she wait any longer either? +For that instant she abandoned the hope which had kept her up so long; a +wave of homesickness overwhelmed her. + +"I should like to go back, too," she said. "I don't see why I'm staying." + +"Mr. Osson, why can't you let me"--she was going to say--"go home with +you?" But she really said what was also in her heart, "Why can't you let +me give you the money to go home? It is all Mrs. Landa's money, anyway." + +"There is certainly that view of the matter," he assented with a +promptness that might have suggested a lurking grudge for the +vice-consul's decision that she ought to keep the money Mrs. Lander had +given her. + +But Clementina urged unsuspiciously: "Oh, yes, indeed! And I shall feel +better if you take it. I only wish I could go home, too!" + +The minister was silent while he was revolving, with whatever scruple or +reluctance, a compromise suitable to the occasion. Then he said, "Why +should we not return together?" + +"Would you take me?" she entreated. + +"That should be as you wished. I am not much acquainted with the usages +in such matters, but I presume that it would be entirely practicable. We +could ask the vice-consul." + +"Yes--" + +"He must have had considerable experience in cases of the kind. Would +your friends meet you in New York, or--" + +"I don't know," said Clementina with a pang for the thought of a meeting +she had sometimes fancied there, when her lover had come out for her, and +her father had been told to come and receive them. "No," she sighed, +"the'e wouldn't be time to let them know. But it wouldn't make any +difference. I could get home from New Yo'k alone," she added, listlessly. +Her spirits had fallen again. She saw that she could not leave Venice +till she had heard in some sort from the letter she had written. "Perhaps +it couldn't be done, after all. But I will see Mr. Bennam about it, Mr. +Osson; and I know he will want you to have that much of the money. He +will be coming he'e, soon." + +He rose upon what he must have thought her hint, and said, "I should not +wish to have him swayed against his judgment." + +The vice-consul came not long after the minister had left her, and she +began upon what she wished to do for him. + +The vice-consul was against it. "I would rather lend him the money out of +my own pocket. How are you going to get along yourself, if you let him +have so much?" + +She did not answer at once. Then she said, hopelessly, "I've a great mind +to go home with him. I don't believe there's any use waiting here any +longa." The vice-consul could not say anything to this. She added, "Yes, +I believe I will go home. We we'e talking about it, the other day, and he +is willing to let me go with him." + +"I should think he would be," the vice-consul retorted in his indignation +for her. "Did you offer to pay for his passage?" + +"Yes," she owned, "I did," and again the vice-consul could say nothing. +"If I went, it wouldn't make any difference whether it took it all or +not. I should have plenty to get home from New York with." + +"Well," the vice-consul assented, dryly, "it's for you to say." + +"I know you don't want me to do it!" + +"Well, I shall miss you," he answered, evasively. + +"And I shall miss you, too, Mr. Bennam. Don't you believe it? But if I +don't take this chance to get home, I don't know when I shall eva have +anotha. And there isn't any use waiting--no, there isn't!" + +The vice-consul laughed at the sort of imperative despair in her tone. +"How are you going? Which way, I mean." + +They counted up Clementina's debts and assets, and they found that if she +took the next steamer from Genoa, which was to sail in four days, she +would have enough to pay her own way and Mr. Orson's to New York, and +still have some thirty dollars over, for her expenses home to +Middlemount. They allowed for a second cabin-passage, which the +vice-consul said was perfectly good on the Genoa steamers. He rather +urged the gentility and comfort of the second cabin-passage, but his +reasons in favor of it were wasted upon Clementina's indifference; she +wished to get home, now, and she did not care how. She asked the +vice-consul to see the minister for her, and if he were ready and +willing, to telegraph for their tickets. He transacted the business so +promptly that he was able to tell her when he came in the evening that +everything was in train. He excused his coming; he said that now she was +going so soon, he wanted to see all he could of her. He offered no excuse +when he came the next morning; but he said he had got a letter for her +and thought she might want to have it at once. + +He took it out of his hat and gave it to her. It was addressed in +Hinkle's writing; her answer had come at last; she stood trembling with +it in her hand. + +The vice-consul smiled. "Is that the one?" + +"Yes," she whispered back. + +"All right." He took his hat, and set it on the back of his head before +he left her without other salutation. + +Then Clementina opened her letter. It was in a woman's hand, and the +writer made haste to explain at the beginning that she was George W. +Hinkle's sister, and that she was writing for him; for though he was now +out of danger, he was still very weak, and they had all been anxious +about him. A month before, he had been hurt in a railroad collision, and +had come home from the West, where the accident happened, suffering +mainly from shock, as his doctor thought; he had taken to his bed at +once, and had not risen from it since. He had been out of his head a +great part of the time, and had been forbidden everything that could +distress or excite him. His sister said that she was writing for him now +as soon as he had seen Clementina's letter; it had been forwarded from +one address to another, and had at last found him there at his home in +Ohio. He wished to say that he would come out for Clementina as soon as +he was allowed to undertake the journey, and in the meantime she must let +him know constantly where she was. The letter closed with a few words of +love in his own handwriting. + +Clementina rose from reading it, and put on her hat in a bewildered +impulse to go to him at once; she knew, in spite of all the cautions and +reserves of the letter that he must still be very sick. When she came out +of her daze she found that she could only go to the vice-consul. She put +the letter in his hands to let it explain itself. "You'll undastand, +now," she said. "What shall I do?" + +When he had read it, he smiled and answered, "I guess I understood pretty +well before, though I wasn't posted on names. Well, I suppose you'll want +to layout most of your capital on cables, now?" + +"Yes," she laughed, and then she suddenly lamented, "Why didn't they +telegraph?" + +"Well, I guess he hadn't the head for it," said the vice-consul, "and the +rest wouldn't think of it. They wouldn't, in the country." + +Clementina laughed again; in joyous recognition of the fact, "No, my +fatha wouldn't, eitha!" + +The vice-consul reached for his hat, and he led the way to Clementina's +gondola at his garden gate, in greater haste than she. At the telegraph +office he framed a dispatch which for expansive fullness and precision +was apparently unexampled in the experience of the clerk who took it and +spelt over its English with them. It asked an answer in the vice-consul's +care, and, "I'll tell you what, Miss Claxon," he said with a husky +weakness in his voice, "I wish you'd let this be my treat." + +She understood. "Do you really, Mr. Bennam?" + +"I do indeed." + +"Well, then, I will," she said, but when he wished to include in his +treat the dispatch she sent home to her father announcing her coming, she +would not let him. + +He looked at his watch, as they rowed away. "It's eight o'clock here, +now, and it will reach Ohio about six hours earlier; but you can't expect +an answer tonight, you know." + +"No"--She had expected it though, he could see that. + +"But whenever it comes, I'll bring it right round to you. Now it's all +going to be straight, don't you be afraid, and you're going home the +quickest way you can get there. I've been looking up the sailings, and +this Genoa boat will get you to New York about as soon as any could from +Liverpool. Besides there's always a chance of missing connections and +losing time between here and England. I should stick to the Genoa boat." + +"Oh I shall," said Clementina, far less fidgetted than he. She was, in +fact, resting securely again in the faith which had never really deserted +her, and had only seemed for a little time to waver from her when her +hope went. Now that she had telegraphed, her heart was at peace, and she +even laughed as she answered the anxious vice-consul. + + + + +XXXVI. + +The next morning Clementina watched for the vice-consul from her balcony. +She knew he would not send; she knew he would come; but it was nearly +noon before she saw him coming. They caught sight of each other almost at +the same moment, and he stood up in his boat, and waved something white +in his hand, which must be a dispatch for her. + +It acknowledged her telegram and reported George still improving; his +father would meet her steamer in New York. It was very reassuring, it was +every thing hopeful; but when she had read it she gave it to the +vice-consul for encouragement. + +"It's all right, Miss Claxon," he said, stoutly. "Don't you be troubled +about Mr. Hinkle's not coming to meet you himself. He can't keep too +quiet for a while yet." + +"Oh, yes," said Clementina, patiently. + +"If you really want somebody to worry about, you can help Mr. Orson to +worry about himself!" the vice-consul went on, with the grimness he had +formerly used in speaking of Mrs. Lander. "He's sick, or he thinks he's +going to be. He sent round for me this morning, and I found him in bed. +You may have to go home alone. But I guess he's more scared than hurt." + +Her heart sank, and then rose in revolt against the mere idea of delay. +"I wonder if I ought to go and see him," she said. + +"Well, it would be a kindness," returned the vice-consul, with a +promptness that unmasked the apprehension he felt for the sick man. + +He did not offer to go with her, and she took Maddalena. She found the +minister seated in his chair beside his bed. A three days' beard +heightened the gauntness of his face; he did not move when his padrona +announced her. + +"I am not any better," he answered when she said that she was glad to see +him up. "I am merely resting; the bed is hard. I regret to say," he +added, with a sort of formal impersonality, "that I shall be unable to +accompany you home, Miss Claxon. That is, if you still think of taking +the steamer this week." + +Her whole being had set homeward in a tide that already seemed to drift +the vessel from its moorings. "What--what do you mean?" she gasped. + +"I didn't know," he returned, "but that in view of the circumstances--all +the circumstances--you might be intending to defer your departure to some +later steamer." + +"No, no, no! I must go, now. I couldn't wait a day, an hour, a minute +after the first chance of going. You don't know what you are saying! He +might die if I told him I was not coming; and then what should I do?" +This was what Clementina said to herself; but what she said to Mr. Orson, +with an inspiration from her terror at his suggestion was, "Don't you +think a little chicken broth would do you good, Mr. Osson? I don't +believe but what it would." + +A wistful gleam came into the preacher's eyes. "It might," he admitted, +and then she knew what must be his malady. She sent Maddalena to a +trattoria for the soup, and she did not leave him, even after she had +seen its effect upon him. It was not hard to persuade him that he had +better come home with her; and she had him there, tucked away with his +few poor belongings, in the most comfortable room the padrone could +imagine, when the vice-consul came in the evening. + +"He says he thinks he can go, now," she ended, when she had told the +vice-consul. "And I know he can. It wasn't anything but poor living." + +"It looks more like no living," said the vice-consul. "Why didn't the old +fool let some one know that he was short of money?" He went on with a +partial transfer of his contempt of the preacher to her, "I suppose if +he'd been sick instead of hungry, you'd have waited over till the next +steamer for him." + +She cast down her eyes. "I don't know what you'll think of me. I should +have been sorry for him, and I should have wanted to stay." She lifted +her eyes and looked the vice-consul defiantly in the face. "But he hadn't +the fust claim on me, and I should have gone--I couldn't have helped +it!--I should have gone, if he had been dying!" + +"Well, you've got more horse-sense," said the vice-consul, "than any ten +men I ever saw," and he testified his admiration of her by putting his +arms round her, where she stood before him, and kissing her. "Don't you +mind," he explained. "If my youngest girl had lived, she would have been +about your age." + +"Oh, it's all right, Mr. Bennam," said Clementina. + +When the time came for them to leave Venice, Mr. Orson was even eager to +go. The vice-consul would have gone with them in contempt of the official +responsibilities which he felt to be such a thankless burden, but there +was really no need of his going, and he and Clementina treated the +question with the matter-of-fact impartiality which they liked in each +other. He saw her off at the station where Maddalena had come to take the +train for Florence in token of her devotion to the signorina, whom she +would not outstay in Venice. She wept long and loud upon Clementina's +neck, so that even Clementina was once moved to put her handkerchief to +her tearless eyes. + +At the last moment she had a question which she referred to the vice +consul. "Should you tell him?" she asked. + +"Tell who what?" he retorted. + +"Mr. Osson--that I wouldn't have stayed for him." + +"Do you think it would make you feel any better?" asked the consul, upon +reflection. + +"I believe he ought to know." + +"Well, then, I guess I should do it." + +The time did not come for her confession till they had nearly reached the +end of their voyage. It followed upon something like a confession from +the minister himself, which he made the day he struggled on deck with her +help, after spending a week in his berth. + +"Here is something," he said, "which appears to be for you, Miss Claxon. +I found it among some letters for Mrs. Lander which Mr. Bennam gave me +after my arrival, and I only observed the address in looking over the +papers in my valise this morning." He handed her a telegram. "I trust +that it is nothing requiring immediate attention." + +Clementina read it at a glance. "No," she answered, and for a while she +could not say anything more; it was a cable message which Hinkle's sister +must have sent her after writing. No evil had come of its failure to +reach her, and she recalled without bitterness the suffering which would +have been spared her if she had got it before. It was when she thought of +the suffering of her lover from the silence which must have made him +doubt her, that she could not speak. As soon as she governed herself +against her first resentment she said, with a little sigh, "It is all +right, now, Mr. Osson," and her stress upon the word seemed to trouble +him with no misgiving. "Besides, if you're to blame for not noticing, so +is Mr. Bennam, and I don't want to blame any one." She hesitated a moment +before she added: "I have got to tell you something, now, because I think +you ought to know it. I am going home to be married, Mr. Osson, and this +message is from the gentleman I am going to be married to. He has been +very sick, and I don't know yet as he'll be able to meet me in New Yo'k; +but his fatha will." + +Mr. Orson showed no interest in these facts beyond a silent attention to +her words, which might have passed for an open indifference. At his time +of life all such questions, which are of permanent importance to women, +affect men hardly more than the angels who neither marry nor are given in +marriage. Besides, as a minister he must have had a surfeit of all +possible qualities in the love affairs of people intending matrimony. As +a casuist he was more reasonably concerned in the next fact which +Clementina laid before him. + +"And the otha day, there in Venice when you we'e sick, and you seemed to +think that I might put off stahting home till the next steamer, I don't +know but I let you believe I would." + +"I supposed that the delay of a week or two could make no material +difference to you." + +"But now you see that it would. And I feel as if I ought to tell you--I +spoke to Mr. Bennam about it, and he didn't tell me not to--that I +shouldn't have staid, no not for anything in the wo'ld. I had to do what +I did at the time, but eva since it has seemed as if I had deceived you, +and I don't want to have it seem so any longer. It isn't because I don't +hate to tell you; I do; but I guess if it was to happen over again I +couldn't feel any different. Do you want I should tell the deck-stewahd +to bring you some beef-tea?" + +"I think I could relish a small portion," said Mr. Orson, cautiously, and +he said nothing more. + +Clementina left him with her nerves in a flutter, and she did not come +back to him until she decided that it was time to help him down to his +cabin. He suffered her to do this in silence, but at the door he cleared +his throat and began: + +"I have reflected upon what you told me, and I have tried to regard the +case from all points. I believe that I have done so, without personal +feeling, and I think it my duty to say, fully and freely, that I believe +you would have done perfectly right not to remain." + +"Yes," said Clementina, "I thought you would think so." + +They parted emotionlessly to all outward effect, and when they met again +it was without a sign of having passed through a crisis of sentiment. +Neither referred to the matter again, but from that time the minister +treated Clementina with a deference not without some shadows of +tenderness such as her helplessness in Venice had apparently never +inspired. She had cast out of her mind all lingering hardness toward him +in telling him the hard truth, and she met his faint relentings with a +grateful gladness which showed itself in her constant care of him. + +This helped her a little to forget the strain of the anxiety that +increased upon her as the time shortened between the last news of her +lover and the next; and there was perhaps no more exaggeration in the +import than in the terms of the formal acknowledgment which Mr. Orson +made her as their steamer sighted Fire Island Light, and they both knew +that their voyage had ended: "I may not be able to say to you in the +hurry of our arrival in New York that I am obliged to you for a good many +little attentions, which I should be pleased to reciprocate if +opportunity offered. I do not think I am going too far in saying that +they are such as a daughter might offer a parent." + +"Oh, don't speak of it, Mr. Osson!" she protested. "I haven't done +anything that any one wouldn't have done." + +"I presume," said the minister, thoughtfully, as if retiring from an +extreme position, "that they are such as others similarly circumstanced, +might have done, but it will always be a source of satisfaction for you +to reflect that you have not neglected them." + + + + +XXXVII. + +In the crowd which thronged the steamer's dock at Hoboken, Clementina +strained her eyes to make out some one who looked enough like her lover +to be his father, and she began to be afraid that they might miss each +other when she failed. She walked slowly down the gangway, with the +people that thronged it, glad to be hidden by them from her failure, but +at the last step she was caught aside by a small blackeyed, black-haired +woman, who called out "Isn't this Miss Claxon? I'm Georrge's sisterr. Oh, +you'rre just like what he said! I knew it! I knew it!" and then hugged +her and kissed her, and passed her to the little lean dark old man next +her. "This is fatherr. I knew you couldn't tell us, because I take afterr +him, and Georrge is exactly like motherr." + +George's father took her hand timidly, but found courage to say to his +daughter, "Hadn't you betterr let her own fatherr have a chance at herr?" +and amidst a tempest of apologies and self blame from the sister, Claxon +showed himself over the shoulders of the little man. + +"Why, there wa'n't no hurry, as long as she's he'a," he said, in prompt +enjoyment of the joke, and he and Clementina sparely kissed each other. + +"Why, fatha!" she said. "I didn't expect you to come to New Yo'k to meet +me." + +"Well, I didn't ha'dly expect it myself; but I'd neva been to Yo'k, and I +thought I might as well come. Things ah' ratha slack at home, just now, +anyway." + +She did not heed his explanation. "We'e you sca'ed when you got my +dispatch?" + +"No, we kind of expected you'd come any time, the way you wrote afta Mrs. +Landa died. We thought something must be up." + +"Yes," she said, absently. Then, "Whe'e's motha?" she asked. + +"Well, I guess she thought she couldn't get round to it, exactly," said +the father. "She's all right. Needn't ask you!" + +"No, I'm fust-rate," Clementina returned, with a silent joy in her +father's face and voice. She went back in it to the girl of a year ago, +and the world which had come between them since their parting rolled away +as if it had never been there. + +Neither of them said anything about that. She named over her brothers and +sisters, and he answered, "Yes, yes," in assurance of their well-being, +and then he explained, as if that were the only point of real interest, +"I see your folks waitin' he'e fo' somebody, and I thought I'd see if it +wa'n't the same one, and we kind of struck up an acquaintance on your +account befo'e you got he'e, Clem." + +"Your folks!" she silently repeated to herself. "Yes, they ah' mine!" and +she stood trying to realize the strange fact, while George's sister +poured out a voluminous comment upon Claxon's spare statement, and +George's father admired her volubility with the shut smile of toothless +age. She spoke with the burr which the Scotch-Irish settlers have +imparted to the whole middle West, but it was music to Clementina, who +heard now and then a tone of her lover in his sister's voice. In the +midst of it all she caught sight of a mute unfriended figure just without +their circle, his traveling shawl hanging loose upon his shoulders, and +the valise which had formed his sole baggage in the voyage to and from +Europe pulling his long hand out of his coat sleeve. + +"Oh, yes," she said, "here is Mr. Osson that came ova with me, fatha; +he's a relation of Mr. Landa's," and she presented him to them all. + +He shifted his valise to the left hand, and shook hands with each, +asking, "What name?" and then fell motionless again. + +"Well," said her father, "I guess this is the end of this paht of the +ceremony, and I'm goin' to see your baggage through the custom-house, +Clementina; I've read about it, and I want to know how it's done. I want +to see what you ah' tryin' to smuggle in." + +"I guess you won't find much," she said. "But you'll want the keys, won't +you?" She called to him, as he was stalking away. + +"Well, I guess that would be a good idea. Want to help, Miss Hinkle?" + +"I guess we might as well all help," said Clementina, and Mr. Orson +included himself in the invitation. He seemed unable to separate himself +from them, though the passage of Clementina's baggage through the +customs, and its delivery to an expressman for the hotel where the +Hinkles said they were staying might well have severed the last tie +between them. + +"Ah' you going straight home, Mr. Osson?" she asked, to rescue him from +the forgetfulness into which they were all letting him fall. + +"I think I will remain over a day," he answered. "I may go on to Boston +before starting West." + +"Well, that's right," said Clementina's father with the wish to approve +everything native to him, and an instinctive sense of Clementina's wish +to befriend the minister. "Betta come to oua hotel. We're all goin' to +the same one." + +"I presume it is a good one?" Mr. Orson assented. + +"Well," said Claxon, "you must make Miss Hinkle, he'a, stand it if it +ain't. She's got me to go to it." + +Mr. Orson apparently could not enter into the joke; but he accompanied +the party, which again began to forget him, across the ferry and up the +elevated road to the street car that formed the last stage of their +progress to the hotel. At this point George's sister fell silent, and +Clementina's father burst out, "Look he'a! I guess we betta not keep this +up any longa; I don't believe much in supprises, and I guess she betta +know it now!" + +He looked at George's sister as if for authority to speak further, and +Clementina looked at her, too, while George's father nervously moistened +his smiling lips with the tip of his tongue, and let his twinkling eyes +rest upon Clementina's face. + +"Is he at the hotel?" she asked. + +"Yes," said his sister, monosyllabic for once. + +"I knew it," said Clementina, and she was only half aware of the fullness +with which his sister now explained how he wanted to come so much that +the doctor thought he had better, but that they had made him promise he +would not try to meet her at the steamer, lest it should be too great a +trial of his strength. + +"Yes," Clementina assented, when the story came to an end and was +beginning over again. + +She had an inexplicable moment when she stood before her lover in the +room where they left her to meet him alone. She faltered and he waited +constrained by her constraint. + +"Is it all a mistake, Clementina?" he asked, with a piteous smile. + +"No, no!" + +"Am I so much changed?" + +"No; you are looking better than I expected." + +"And you are not sorry--for anything?" + +"No, I am--Perhaps I have thought of you too much! It seems so strange." + +"I understand," he answered. "We have been like spirits to each other, +and now we find that we are alive and on the earth like other people; and +we are not used to it." + +"It must be something like that." + +"But if it's something else--if you have the least regret,--if you would +rather"--He stopped, and they remained looking at each other a moment. +Then she turned her head, and glanced out of the window, as if something +there had caught her sight. + +"It's a very pleasant view, isn't it?" she said; and she lifted her hands +to her head, and took off her hat, with an effect of having got home +after absence, to stay. + + + + +XXXVIII. + +It was possibly through some sense finer than any cognition that +Clementina felt in meeting her lover that she had taken up a new burden +rather than laid down an old one. Afterwards, when they once recurred to +that meeting, and she tried to explain for him the hesitation which she +had not been able to hide, she could only say, "I presume I didn't want +to begin unless I was sure I could carry out. It would have been silly." + +Her confession, if it was a confession, was made when one of his returns +to health, or rather one of the arrests of his unhealth, flushed them +with hope and courage; but before that first meeting was ended she knew +that he had overtasked his strength, in coming to New York, and he must +not try it further. "Fatha," she said to Claxon, with the authority of a +woman doing her duty, "I'm not going to let Geo'ge go up to Middlemount, +with all the excitement. It will be as much as he can do to get home. You +can tell mother about it; and the rest. I did suppose it would be Mr. +Richling that would marry us, and I always wanted him to, but I guess +somebody else can do it as well." + +"Just as you say, Clem," her father assented. "Why not Brother Osson, +he'a?" he suggested with a pleasure in the joke, whatever it was, that +the minister's relation to Clementina involved. "I guess he can put off +his visit to Boston long enough." + +"Well, I was thinking of him," said Clementina. "Will you ask him?" + +"Yes. I'll get round to it, in the mohning." + +"No--now; right away. I've been talking with Geo'ge about it; and the'e's +no sense in putting it off. I ought to begin taking care of him at once." + +"Well, I guess when I tell your motha how you're layin' hold, she won't +think it's the same pusson," said her father, proudly. + +"But it is; I haven't changed a bit." + +"You ha'n't changed for the wohse, anyway." + +"Didn't I always try to do what I had to?" + +"I guess you did, Clem." + +"Well, then!" + +Mr. Orson, after a decent hesitation, consented to perform the ceremony. +It took place in a parlor of the hotel, according to the law of New York, +which facilitates marriage so greatly in all respects that it is strange +any one in the State should remain single. He had then a luxury of choice +between attaching himself to the bridal couple as far as Ohio on his +journey home to Michigan, or to Claxon who was going to take the boat for +Boston the next day on his way to Middlemount. He decided for Claxon, +since he could then see Mrs. Lander's lawyer at once, and arrange with +him for getting out of the vice-consul's hands the money which he was +holding for an authoritative demand. He accepted without open reproach +the handsome fee which the elder Hinkle gave him for his services, and +even went so far as to say, "If your son should ever be blest with a +return to health, he has got a helpmeet such as there are very few of." +He then admonished the young couple, in whatever trials life should have +in store for them, to be resigned, and always to be prepared for the +worst. When he came later to take leave of them, he was apparently not +equal to the task of fitly acknowledging the return which Hinkle made him +of all the money remaining to Clementina out of the sum last given her by +Mrs. Lander, but he hid any disappointment he might have suffered, and +with a brief, "Thank you," put it in his pocket. + +Hinkle told Clementina of the apathetic behavior of Mr. Orson; he added +with a laugh like his old self, "It's the best that he doesn't seem +prepared for." + +"Yes," she assented. "He wasn't very chee'ful. But I presume that he +meant well. It must be a trial for him to find out that Mrs. Landa wasn't +rich, after all." + +It was apparently never a trial to her. She went to Ohio with her husband +and took up her life on the farm, where it was wisely judged that he had +the best chance of working out of the wreck of his health and strength. +There was often the promise and always the hope of this, and their love +knew no doubt of the future. Her sisters-in-law delighted in all her +strangeness and difference, while they petted her as something not to be +separated from him in their petting of their brother; to his mother she +was the darling which her youngest had never ceased to be; Clementina +once went so far as to say to him that if she was ever anything she would +like to be a Moravian. + +The question of religion was always related in their minds to the +question of Gregory, to whom they did justice in their trust of each +other. It was Hinkle himself who reasoned out that if Gregory was narrow, +his narrowness was of his conscience and not of his heart or his mind. +She respected the memory of her first lover; but it was as if he were +dead, now, as well as her young dream of him, and she read with a curious +sense of remoteness, a paragraph which her husband found in the religious +intelligence of his Sunday paper, announcing the marriage of the Rev. +Frank Gregory to a lady described as having been a frequent and bountiful +contributor to the foreign missions. She was apparently a widow, and they +conjectured that she was older than he. His departure for his chosen +field of missionary labor in China formed part of the news communicated +by the rather exulting paragraph. + +"Well, that is all right," said Clementina's husband. "He is a good man, +and he is where he can do nothing but good. I am glad I needn't feel +sorry for him, any more." + +Clementina's father must have given such a report of Hinkle and his +family, that they felt easy at home in leaving her to the lot she had +chosen. When Claxon parted from her, he talked of coming out with her +mother to see her that fall; but it was more than a year before they got +round to it. They did not come till after the birth of her little girl, +and her father then humorously allowed that perhaps they would not have +got round to it at all if something of the kind had not happened. The +Hinkles and her father and mother liked one another, so much that in the +first glow of his enthusiasm Claxon talked of settling down in Ohio, and +the older Hinkle drove him about to look at some places that were for +sale. But it ended in his saying one day that he missed the hills, and he +did not believe that he would know enough to come in when it rained if he +did not see old Middlemount with his nightcap on first. His wife and he +started home with the impatience of their years, rather earlier than they +had meant to go, and they were silent for a little while after they left +the flag-station where Hinkle and Clementina had put them aboard their +train. + +"Well?" said Claxon, at last. + +"Well?" echoed his wife, and then she did not speak for a little while +longer. At last she asked, + +"D'he look that way when you fust see him in New Yo'k?" + +Claxon gave his honesty time to get the better of his optimism. Even then +he answered evasively, "He doos look pootty slim." + +"The way I cypher it out," said his wife, "he no business to let her +marry him, if he wa'n't goin' to get well. It was throwin' of herself +away, as you may say." + +"I don't know about that," said Claxon, as if the point had occurred to +him, too, and had been already argued in his mind. "I guess they must 'a' +had it out, there in New York before they got married--or she had. I +don't believe but what he expected to get well, right away. It's the kind +of a thing that lingas along, and lingas along. As fah fo'th as Clem +went, I guess there wa'n't any let about it. I guess she'd made up her +mind from the staht, and she was goin' to have him if she had to hold him +on his feet to do it. Look he'a! What would you done?" + +"Oh, I presume we're all fools!" said Mrs. Claxon, impatient of a sex not +always so frank with itself. "But that don't excuse him." + +"I don't say it doos," her husband admitted. "But I presume he was +expectin' to get well right away, then. And I don't believe," he added, +energetically, "but what he will, yet. As I undastand, there ain't +anything ogganic about him. It's just this he'e nuvvous prostration, +resultin' from shock, his docta tells me; and he'll wo'k out of that all +right." + +They said no more, and Mrs. Claxon did not recur to any phase of the +situation till she undid the lunch which the Hinkles had put up for them, +and laid out on the napkin in her lap the portions of cold ham and cold +chicken, the buttered biscuit, and the little pot of apple-butter, with +the large bottle of cold coffee. Then she sighed, "They live well." + +"Yes," said her husband, glad of any concession, "and they ah' good +folks. And Clem's as happy as a bud with 'em, you can see that." + +"Oh, she was always happy enough, if that's all you want. I presume she +was happy with that hectorin' old thing that fooled her out of her +money." + +"I ha'n't ever regretted that money, Rebecca," said Claxon, stiffly, +almost sternly, "and I guess you a'n't, eitha." + +"I don't say I have," retorted Mrs. Claxon. "But I don't like to be made +a fool of. I presume," she added, remotely, but not so irrelevantly, +"Clem could ha' got 'most anybody, ova the'a." + +"Well," said Claxon, taking refuge in the joke, "I shouldn't want her to +marry a crowned head, myself." + +It was Clementina who drove the clay-bank colt away from the station +after the train had passed out of sight. Her husband sat beside her, and +let her take the reins from his nerveless grasp; and when they got into +the shelter of the piece of woods that the road passed through he put up +his hands to his face, and broke into sobs. She allowed him to weep on, +though she kept saying, "Geo'ge, Geo'ge," softly, and stroking his knee +with the hand next him. When his sobbing stopped, she said, "I guess +they've had a pleasant visit; but I'm glad we'a together again." He took +up her hand and kissed the back of it, and then clutched it hard, but did +not speak. "It's strange," she went on, "how I used to be home-sick for +father and motha"--she had sometimes lost her Yankee accent in her +association with his people, and spoke with their Western burr, but she +found it in moments of deeper feeling--"when I was there in Europe, and +now I'm glad to have them go. I don't want anybody to be between us; and +I want to go back to just the way we we'e befo'e they came. It's been a +strain on you, and now you must throw it all off and rest, and get up +your strength. One thing, I could see that fatha noticed the gain you had +made since he saw you in New Yo'k. He spoke about it to me the fust +thing, and he feels just the way I do about it. He don't want you to +hurry and get well, but take it slowly, and not excite yourself. He +believes in your gleaner, and he knows all about machinery. He says the +patent makes it puffectly safe, and you can take your own time about +pushing it; it's su'a to go. And motha liked you. She's not one to talk a +great deal--she always leaves that to father and me--but she's got deep +feelings, and she just worshipped the baby! I neva saw her take a child +in her ahms before; but she seemed to want to hold the baby all the +time." She stopped, and then added, tenderly, "Now, I know what you ah' +thinking about, Geo'ge, and I don't want you to think about it any more. +If you do, I shall give up." + +They had come to a bad piece of road where a slough of thick mud forced +the wagon-way over the stumps of a turnout in the woods. "You had better +let me have the reins, Clementina," he said. He drove home over the +yellow leaves of the hickories and the crimson leaves of the maples, that +heavy with the morning dew, fell slanting through the still air; and on +the way he began to sing; his singing made her heart ache. His father +came out to put up the colt for him; and Hinkle would not have his help. + +He unhitched the colt himself, while his father trembled by with bent +knees; he clapped the colt on the haunch and started him through the +pasture-bars with a gay shout, and then put his arm round Clementina's +waist, and walked her into the kitchen amidst the grins of his mother and +sisters, who said he ought to be ashamed. + +The winter passed, and in the spring he was not so well as he had been in +the fall. It was the out-door life which was best for him, and he picked +up again in the summer. When another autumn came, it was thought best for +him not to risk the confinement of another winter in the North. The +prolongation of the summer in the South would complete his cure, and +Clementina took her baby and went with him to Florida. He was very well, +there, and courageous letters came to Middlemount and Ohio, boasting of +the gains he had made. One day toward spring he came in languid from the +damp, unnatural heat, and the next day he had a fever, which the doctor +would not, in a resort absolutely free from malaria, pronounce malarial. +After it had once declared itself, in compliance with this reluctance, a +simple fever, Hinkle was delirious, and he never knew Clementina again +for the mother of his child. They were once more at Venice in his +ravings, and he was reasoning with her that Belsky was not drowned. + +The mystery of his malady deepened into the mystery of his death. With +that his look of health and youth came back, and as she gazed upon his +gentle face, it wore to her the smile of quaint sweetness that she had +seen it wear the first night it won her fancy at Miss Milray's horse in +Florence. + + + + +XXXIX. + +Six years after Miss Milray parted with Clementina in Venice she found +herself, towards the close of the summer, at Middlemount. She had +definitely ceased to live in Florence, where she had meant to die, and +had come home to close her eyes. She was in no haste to do this, and in +the meantime she was now at Middlemount with her brother, who had +expressed a wish to revisit the place in memory of Mrs. Milray. It was +the second anniversary of her divorce, which had remained, after a +married life of many vicissitudes, almost the only experience untried in +that relation, and which had been happily accomplished in the courts of +Dacotah, upon grounds that satisfied the facile justice of that State. +Milray had dealt handsomely with his widow, as he unresentfully called +her, and the money he assigned her was of a destiny perhaps as honored as +its origin. She employed it in the negotiation of a second marriage, in +which she redressed the balance of her first by taking a husband somewhat +younger than herself. + +Both Milray and his sister had a wish which was much more than a +curiosity to know what had become of Clementina; they had heard that her +husband was dead, and that she had come back to Middlemount; and Miss +Milray was going to the office, the afternoon following their arrival, to +ask the landlord about her, when she was arrested at the door of the +ball-room by a sight that she thought very pretty. At the bottom of the +room, clearly defined against the long windows behind her, stood the +figure of a lady in the middle of the floor. In rows on either side sat +little girls and little boys who left their places one after another, and +turned at the door to make their manners to her. In response to each +obeisance the lady dropped a curtsey, now to this side, now to that, +taking her skirt between her finger tips on either hand and spreading it +delicately, with a certain elegance of movement, and a grace that was +full of poetry, and to Miss Milray, somehow, full of pathos. There +remained to the end a small mite of a girl, who was the last to leave her +place and bow to the lady. She did not quit the room then, like the +others, but advanced toward the lady who came to meet her, and lifted her +and clasped her to her breast with a kind of passion. She walked down +toward the door where Miss Milray stood, gently drifting over the +polished floor, as if still moved by the music that had ceased, and as +she drew near, Miss Milray gave a cry of joy, and ran upon her. "Why, +Clementina!" she screamed, and caught her and the child both in her arms. + +She began to weep, but Clementina smiled instead of weeping, as she +always used to do. She returned Miss Milray's affectionate greeting with +a tenderness as great as her own, but with a sort of authority, such as +sometimes comes to those who have suffered. She quieted the older woman +with her own serenity, and met the torrent of her questions with as many +answers as their rush permitted, when they were both presently in Miss +Milray's room talking in their old way. From time to time Miss Milray +broke from the talk to kiss the little girl, whom she declared to be +Clementina all over again, and then returned to her better behavior with +an effect of shame for her want of self-control, as if Clementina's mood +had abashed her. Sometimes this was almost severe in its quiet; that was +her mother coming to her share in her; but again she was like her father, +full of the sunny gayety of self-forgetfulness, and then Miss Milray +said, "Now you are the old Clementina!" + +Upon the whole she listened with few interruptions to the story which she +exacted. It was mainly what we know. After her husband's death Clementina +had gone back to his family for a time, and each year since she had spent +part of the winter with them; but it was very lonesome for her, and she +began to be home-sick for Middlemount. They saw it and considered it. +"They ah' the best people, Miss Milray!" she said, and her voice, which +was firm when she spoke of her husband, broke in the words of minor +feeling. Besides being a little homesick, she ended, she was not willing +to live on there, doing nothing for herself, and so she had come back. + +"And you are here, doing just what you planned when you talked your life +over with me in Venice!" + +"Yes, but life isn't eva just what we plan it to be, Miss Milray." + +"Ah, don't I know it!" + +Clementina surprised Miss Milray by adding, "In a great many things--I +don't know but in most--it's better. I don't complain of mine--" + +"You poor child! You never complained of anything--not even of Mrs. +Lander!" + +"But it's different from what I expected; and it's--strange." + +"Yes; life is very strange." + +"I don't mean--losing him. That had to be. I can see, now, that it had to +be almost from the beginning. It seems to me that I knew it had to be +from the fust minute I saw him in New Yo'k; but he didn't, and I am glad +of that. Except when he was getting wohse, he always believed he should +get well; and he was getting well, when he--" + +Miss Milray did not violate the pause she made with any question, though +it was apparent that Clementina had something on her mind that she wished +to say, and could hardly say of herself. + +She began again, "I was glad through everything that I could live with +him so long. If there is nothing moa, here or anywhe'a, that was +something. But it is strange. Sometimes it doesn't seem as if it had +happened." + +"I think I can understand, Clementina." + +"I feel sometimes as if I hadn't happened myself." She stopped, with a +patient little sigh, and passed her hand across the child's forehead, in +a mother's fashion, and smoothed her hair from it, bending over to look +down into her face. "We think she has her fatha's eyes," she said. + +"Yes, she has," Miss Milray assented, noting the upward slant of the +child's eyes, which gave his quaintness to her beauty. "He had +fascinating eyes." + +After a moment Clementina asked, "Do you believe that the looks are all +that ah' left?" + +Miss Milray reflected. "I know what you mean. I should say character was +left, and personality--somewhere." + +"I used to feel as if it we'e left here, at fust--as if he must come +back. But that had to go." + +"Yes." + +"Everything seems to go. After a while even the loss of him seemed to +go." + +"Yes, losses go with the rest." + +"That's what I mean by its seeming as if it never any of it happened. +Some things before it are a great deal more real." + +"Little things?" + +"Not exactly. But things when I was very young." Miss Milray did not know +quite what she intended, but she knew that Clementina was feeling her way +to something she wanted to say, and she let her alone. "When it was all +over, and I knew that as long as I lived he would be somewhere else, I +tried to be paht of the wo'ld I was left in. Do you think that was +right?" + +"It was wise; and, yes, it was best," said Miss Milray, and for relief +from the tension which was beginning to tell upon her own nerves, she +asked, "I suppose you know about my poor brother? I'd better tell you to +keep you from asking for Mrs. Milray, though I don't know that it's so +very painful with him. There isn't any Mrs. Milray now," she added, and +she explained why. + +Neither of them cared for Mrs. Milray, and they did not pretend to be +concerned about her, but Clementina said, vaguely, as if in recognition +of Mrs. Milray's latest experiment, "Do you believe in second marriages?" + +Miss Milray laughed, "Well, not that kind exactly." + +"No," Clementina assented, and she colored a little. + +Miss Milray was moved to add, "But if you mean another kind, I don't see +why not. My own mother was married twice." + +"Was she?" Clementina looked relieved and encouraged, but she did not say +any more at once. Then she asked, "Do you know what ever became of Mr. +Belsky?" + +"Yes. He's taken his title again, and gone back to live in Russia; he's +made peace with the Czar; I believe." + +"That's nice," said Clementina; and Miss Milray made bold to ask: + +"And what has become of Mr. Gregory?" + +Clementina answered, as Miss Milray thought, tentatively and obliquely: +"You know his wife died." + +"No, I never knew that she lived." + +"Yes. They went out to China, and she died the'a." + +"And is he there yet? But of course! He could never have given up being a +missionary." + +"Well," said Clementina, "he isn't in China. His health gave out, and he +had to come home. He's in Middlemount Centa." + +Miss Milray suppressed the "Oh!" that all but broke from her lips. +"Preaching to the heathen, there?" she temporized. + +"To the summa folks," Clementina explained, innocent of satire. "They +have got a Union Chapel the'a, now, and Mr. Gregory has been preaching +all summa." There seemed nothing more that Miss Milray could prompt her +to say, but it was not quite with surprise that she heard Clementina +continue, as if it were part of the explanation, and followed from the +fact she had stated, "He wants me to marry him." + +Miss Milray tried to emulate her calm in asking, "And shall you?" + +"I don't know. I told him I would see; he only asked me last night. It +would be kind of natural. He was the fust. You may think it is strange--" + +Miss Milray, in the superstition of her old-maidenhood concerning love, +really thought it cold-blooded and shocking; but she said, "Oh, no." + +Clementina resumed: "And he says that if it was right for me to stop +caring for him when I did, it is right now for me to ca'e for him again, +where the'e's no one to be hu't by it. Do you think it is?" + +"Yes; why not?" Miss Milray was forced to the admission against what she +believed the finer feelings of her nature. + +Clementina sighed, "I suppose he's right. I always thought he was good. +Women don't seem to belong very much to themselves in this wo'ld, do +they?" + +"No, they seem to belong to the men, either because they want the men, or +the men want them; it comes to the same thing. I suppose you don't wish +me to advise you, my dear?" + +"No. I presume it's something I've got to think out for myself." + +"But I think he's good, too. I ought to say that much, for I didn't +always stand his friend with you. If Mr. Gregory has any fault it's being +too scrupulous." + +"You mean, about that old trouble--our not believing just the same?" Miss +Milray meant something much more temperamental than that, but she allowed +Clementina to limit her meaning, and Clementina went on. "He's changed +all round now. He thinks it's all in the life. He says that in China they +couldn't understand what he believed, but they could what he lived. And +he knows I neva could be very religious." + +It was in Miss Milray's heart to protest, "Clementina, I think you are +one of the most religious persons I ever knew," but she forebore, because +the praise seemed to her an invasion of Clementina's dignity. She merely +said, "Well, I am glad he is one of those who grow more liberal as they +grow older. That is a good sign for your happiness. But I dare say it's +more of his happiness you think." + +"Oh, I should like to be happy, too. There would be no sense in it if I +wasn't." + +"No, certainly not." + +"Miss Milray," said Clementina, with a kind of abruptness, "do you eva +hear anything from Dr. Welwright?" + +"No! Why?" Miss Milray fastened her gaze vividly upon her. + +"Oh, nothing. He wanted me to promise him, there in Venice, too." + +"I didn't know it." + +"Yes. But--I couldn't, then. And now--he's written to me. He wants me to +let him come ova, and see me." + +"And--and will you?" asked Miss Milray, rather breathlessly. + +"I don't know. I don't know as I'd ought. I should like to see him, so as +to be puffectly su'a. But if I let him come, and then didn't--It wouldn't +be right! I always felt as if I'd ought to have seen then that he ca'ed +for me, and stopped him; but I didn't. No, I didn't," she repeated, +nervously. "I respected him, and I liked him; but I neva"--She stopped, +and then she asked, "What do you think I'd ought to do, Miss Milray?" + +Miss Milray hesitated. She was thinking superficially that she had never +heard Clementina say had ought, so much, if ever before. Interiorly she +was recurring to a sense of something like all this before, and to the +feeling which she had then that Clementina was really cold-blooded and +self-seeking. But she remembered that in her former decision, Clementina +had finally acted from her heart and her conscience, and she rose from +her suspicion with a rebound. She dismissed as unworthy of Clementina any +theory which did not account for an ideal of scrupulous and unselfish +justice in her. + +"That is something that nobody can say but yourself, Clementina," she +answered, gravely. + +"Yes," sighed Clementina, "I presume that is so." + +She rose, and took her little girl from Miss Milray's knee. "Say +good-bye," she bade, looking tenderly down at her. + +Miss Milray expected the child to put up her lips to be kissed. But she +let go her mother's hand, took her tiny skirts between her finger-tips, +and dropped a curtsey. + +"You little witch!" cried Miss Milray. "I want a hug," and she crushed +her to her breast, while the child twisted her face round and anxiously +questioned her mother's for her approval. "Tell her it's all right, +Clementina!" cried Miss Milray. "When she's as old as you were in +Florence, I'm going to make you give her to me." + +"Ah' you going back to Florence?" asked Clementina, provisionally. + +"Oh, no! You can't go back to anything. That's what makes New York so +impossible. I think we shall go to Los Angeles." + + + + +XL. + +On her way home Clementina met a man walking swiftly forward. A sort of +impassioned abstraction expressed itself in his gait and bearing. They +had both entered the shadow of the deep pine woods that flanked the way +on either side, and the fallen needles helped with the velvety summer +dust of the roadway to hush their steps from each other. She saw him far +off, but he was not aware of her till she was quite near him. + +"Oh!" he said, with a start. "You filled my mind so full that I couldn't +have believed you were anywhere outside of it. I was coming to get you--I +was coming to get my answer." + +Gregory had grown distinctly older. Sickness and hardship had left traces +in his wasted face, but the full beard he wore helped to give him an +undue look of age. + +"I don't know," said Clementina, slowly, "as I've got an answa fo' you, +Mr. Gregory--yet." + +"No answer is better that the one I am afraid of!" + +"Oh, I'm not so sure of that," she said, with gentle perplexity, as she +stood, holding the hand of her little girl, who stared shyly at the +intense face of the man before her. + +"I am," he retorted. "I have been thinking it all over, Clementina. I've +tried not to think selfishly about it, but I can't pretend that my wish +isn't selfish. It is! I want you for myself, and because I've always +wanted you, and not for any other reason. I never cared for any one but +you in the way I cared for you, and--" + +"Oh!" she grieved. "I never ca'ed at all for you after I saw him." + +"I know it must be shocking to you; I haven't told you with any wretched +hope that it would commend me to you!" + +"I don't say it was so very bad," said Clementina, reflectively, "if it +was something you couldn't help." + +"It was something I couldn't help. Perhaps I didn't try ." + +"Did--she know it?" + +"She knew it from the first; I told her before we were married." + +Clementina drew back a little, insensibly pulling her child with her. "I +don't believe I exactly like it." + +"I knew you wouldn't! If I could have thought you would, I hope I +shouldn't have wished--and feared--so much to tell you." + +"Oh, I know you always wanted to do what you believed was right, Mr. +Gregory," she answered. "But I haven't quite thought it out yet. You +mustn't hurry me." + +"No, no! Heaven forbid." He stood aside to let her pass. + +"I was just going home," she added. + +"May I go with you?" + +"Yes, if you want to. I don't know but you betta; we might as well; I +want to talk with you. Don't you think it's something we ought to talk +about--sensibly?" + +"Why, of course! And I shall try to be guided by you; I should always +submit to be ruled by you, if--" + +"That's not what I mean, exactly. I don't want to do the ruling. You +don't undastand me." + +"I'm afraid I don't," he assented, humbly. + +"If you did, you wouldn't say that--so." He did not venture to make any +answer, and they walked on without speaking, till she asked, "Did you +know that Miss Milray was at the Middlemount?" + +"Miss Milray! Of Florence?" + +"With her brother. I didn't see him; Mrs. Milray is not he'a; they ah' +divo'ced. Miss Milray used to be very nice to me in Florence. She isn't +going back there any moa. She says you can't go back to anything. Do you +think we can?" + +She had left moments between her incoherent sentences where he might +interrupt her if he would, but he waited for her question. "I hoped we +might; but perhaps--" + +"No, no. We couldn't. We couldn't go back to that night when you threw +the slippas into the riva, no' to that time in Florence when we gave up, +no' to that day in Venice when I had to tell you that I ca'ed moa fo' +some one else. Don't you see?" + +"Yes, I see," he said, in quick revulsion from the hope he had expressed. +"The past is full of the pain and shame of my errors!" + +"I don't want to go back to what's past, eitha," she reasoned, without +gainsaying him. + +She stopped again, as if that were all, and he asked, "Then is that my +answer?" + +"I don't believe that even in the otha wo'ld we shall want to go back to +the past, much, do you?" she pursued, thoughtfully. + +Once Gregory would have answered confidently; he even now checked an +impulse to do so. "I don't know," he owned, meekly. + +"I do like you, Mr. Gregory!" she relented, as if touched by his +meekness, to the confession. "You know I do--moa than I ever expected to +like anybody again. But it's not because I used to like you, or because I +think you always acted nicely. I think it was cruel of you, if you ca'ed +for me, to let me believe you didn't, afta that fust time. I can't eva +think it wasn't, no matta why you did it." + +"It was atrocious. I can see that now." + +"I say it, because I shouldn't eva wish to say it again. I know that all +the time you we'e betta than what you did, and I blame myself a good deal +moa fo' not knowing when you came to Florence that I had begun to ca'e +fo' some one else. But I did wait till I could see you again, so as to be +su'a which I ca'ed for the most. I tried to be fai'a, before I told you +that I wanted to be free. That is all," she said, gently, and Gregory +perceived that the word was left definitely to him. + +He could not take it till he had disciplined himself to accept +unmurmuringly his sentence as he understood it. "At any rate," he began, +"I can thank you for rating my motive above my conduct." + +"Oh," she said. "I don't think either of us acted very well. I didn't +know till aftawa'ds that I was glad to have you give up, the way you did +in Florence. I was--bewild'ed. But I ought to have known, and I want you +to undastand everything, now. I don't ca'e for you because I used to when +I was almost a child, and I shouldn't want you to ca'e for me eitha, +because you did then. That's why I wish you had neva felt that you had +always ca'ed fo' me." + +"Yes," said Gregory. He let fall his head in despair. + +"That is what I mean," said Clementina. "If we ah' going to begin +togetha, now, it's got to be as if we had neva begun before. And you +mustn't think, or say, or look as if the'e had been anything in oua lives +but ouaselves. Will you? Do you promise?" She stopped, and put her hand +on his breast, and pushed against it with a nervous vehemence. + +"No!" he said. "I don't promise, for I couldn't keep my promise. What you +ask is impossible. The past is part of us; it can't be ignored any more +than it can be destroyed. If we take each other, it must be for all that +we have been as well as all that we are. If we haven't the courage for +that we must part." + +He dropped the little one's hand which he had been holding, and moved a +few steps aside. "Don't!" she said. "They'll think I've made you," and he +took the child's hand again. + +They had emerged from the shadow of the woods, and come in sight of her +father's house. Claxon was standing coatless before the door in full +enjoyment of the late afternoon air; his wife beside him, at sight of +Gregory, quelled a natural impulse to run round the corner of the house +from the presence of strangers. + +"I wonda what they'a sayin'," she fretted. + +"It looks some as if she was sayin' yes," said Claxon, with an impersonal +enjoyment of his conjecture. "I guess she saw he was bound not to take no +for an answa." + +"I don't know as I should like it very much," his wife relucted. "Clem's +doin' very well, as it is. She no need to marry again." + +"Oh, I guess it a'n't that altogetha. He's a good man." Claxon mused a +moment upon the figures which had begun to advance again, with the little +one between them, and then gave way in a burst of paternal pride, "And I +don't know as I should blame him so very much for wantin' Clem. She +always did want to be of moa use--But I guess she likes him too." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Ragged Lady, Part 2, by William Dean Howells + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAGGED LADY, PART 2 *** + +***** This file should be named 3406.txt or 3406.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/0/3406/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + + +[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of +this file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas. D.W.] + + + + + +Ragged Lady + +by William Dean Howells + + + + +Part 2 + + +XV. + +Mrs. Lander went to a hotel in New York where she had been in the habit +of staying with her husband, on their way South or North. The clerk knew +her, and shook hands with her across the register, and said she could +have her old rooms if she wanted them; the bell-boy who took up their +hand-baggage recalled himself to her; the elevator-boy welcomed her with +a smile of remembrance. + +Since she was already up, from coming off the sleeping-car, she had no +excuse for not going to breakfast like other people; and she went with +Clementina to the dining-room, where the head-waiter, who found them +places, spoke with an outlandish accent, and the waiter who served them +had a parlance that seemed superficially English, but was inwardly +something else; there was even a touch in the cooking of the familiar +dishes, that needed translation for the girl's inexperienced palate. +She was finding a refuge in the strangeness of everything, when she was +startled by the sound of a familiar voice calling, "Clementina Claxon! +Well, I was sure all along it was you, and I determined I wouldn't stand +it another minute. Why, child, how you have changed! Why, I declare you +are quite a woman! When did you come? How pretty you are Mrs. Milray +took Clementina in her arms and kissed her in proof of her admiration +before the whole breakfast room. She was very nice to Mrs. Lander, too, +who, when Clementina introduced them, made haste to say that Clementina +was there on a visit with her. Mrs. Milray answered that she envied her +such a visitor as Miss Claxon, and protested that she should steal her +away for a visit to herself, if Mr. Milray was not so much in love with +her that it made her jealous. "Mr. Milray has to have his breakfast in +his room," she explained to Clementina. "He's not been so well, since he +lost his mother. Yes," she said, with decorous solemnity, "I'm still in +mourning for her," and Clementina saw that she was in a tempered black. +"She died last year, and now I'm taking Mr. Milray abroad to see if it +won't cheer him up a little. Are you going South for the winter?" she +inquired, politely, of Mrs. Lander. "I wish I was going," she said, when +Mrs. Lander guessed they should go, later on. "Well, you must come in +and see me all you can, Clementina; and I shall have the pleasure of +calling upon you," she added to Mrs. Lander with state that was lost in +the soubrette-like volatility of her flight from them the next moment. +"Goodness, I forgot all about Mr. Milray's breakfast! "She ran back to +the table she had left on the other side of the room. + +"Who is that, Clementina?" asked Mrs. Lander, on their way to their +rooms. Clementina explained as well as she could, and Mrs. Lander summed +up her feeling in the verdict, "Well, she's a lady, if ever I saw a lady; +and you don't see many of 'em, nowadays." + +The girl remembered how Mrs. Milray had once before seemed very fond of +her, and had afterwards forgotten the pretty promises and professions she +had made her. But she went with Mrs. Lander to see her, and she saw Mr. +Milray, too, for a little while. He seemed glad of their meeting, but +still depressed by the bereavement which Mrs. Milray supported almost +with gayety. When he left them she explained that he was a good deal +away from her, with his family, as she approved of his being, though she +had apparently no wish to join him in all the steps of the reconciliation +which the mother's death had brought about among them. Sometimes his +sisters came to the hotel to see her, but she amused herself perfectly +without them, and she gave much more of her leisure to Clementina and +Mrs. Lander. + +She soon knew the whole history of the relation between them, and the +first time that Clementina found her alone with Mrs. Lander she could +have divined that Mrs. Lander had been telling her of the Fane affair, +even if Mrs. Milray had not at once called out to her, "I know all about +it; and I'll tell you what, Clementina, I'm going to take you over with +me and marry you to an English Duke. Mrs. Lander and I have been +planning it all out, and I'm going to send down to the steamer office, +and engage your passage. It's all settled!" + +When she was gone, Mfrs. Lander asked, "What do you s'pose your folks +would say to your goin' to Europe, anyway, Clementina?" as if the matter +had been already debated between them. + +Clementina hesitated. "I should want to be su'a Mrs. Milray really +wanted me to go ova with her." + +"Why, didn't you hear her say so?" demanded Mrs. Lander. + +"Yes," sighed Clementina. "Mrs. Lander, I think Mrs. Milray means what +she says, at the time, but she is one that seems to forget." + +"She thinks the wo'ld of you," Mrs. Lander urged. + +"She was very nice to me that summer at Middlemount. I guess maybe she +would like to have us go with her," the girl relented. + +"I guess we'll wait and see," said Mrs. Lander. "I shouldn't want she +should change her mind when it was too late, as you say." They were both +silent for a time, and then Mrs. Lander resumed, "But I presume she +ha'n't got the only steams that's crossin'. What should you say about +goin' over on some otha steams? I been South a good many wintas, and I +should feel kind of lonesome goin' round to the places where I been with +Mr. Landa. I felt it since I been here in this hotel, some, and I can't +seem to want to go ova the same ground again, well, not right away." + +Clementina said, "Why, of cou'se, Mrs. Landa." + +"Should you be willin'," asked Mrs. Lander, after another little pause, +"if your folks was willin', to go ova the'a, to some of them European +countries, to spend the winta?" + +"Oh yes, indeed!" said Clementina. + +They discussed the matter in one of the full talks they both liked. At +the end Mrs. Lander said, "Well, I guess you betta write home, and ask +your motha whetha you can go, so't if we take the notion we can go any +time. Tell her to telegraph, if she'll let you, and do write all the ifs +and ands, so't she'll know just how to answa, without havin' to have you +write again." + +That evening Mrs. Milray came to their table from where she had been +dining alone, and asked in banter: "Well, have you made up your minds to +go over with me?" + +Mrs. Lander said bluntly, "We can't ha'dly believe yon really want us to, +Mrs. Milray." + +"I don't want you? Who put such an idea into your head! Oh, I know!" +She threatened Clementina with the door-key, which she was carrying in +her hand. "It was you, was it? What an artful, suspicious thing! +What's got into you, child? Do you hate me?" She did not give +Clementina time to protest. "Well, now, I can just tell you I do want +you, and I'll be quite heart-broken if you don't come." + +"Well, she wrote to her friends this mohning," Mrs. Lander said, "but I +guess she won't git an answa in time for youa steamer, even if they do +let her go." + +"Oh, yes she will," Mrs. Milray protested. "It's all right, now; you've +got to go, and there's no use trying to get out of it." + +She came to them whenever she could find them in the dining-room, and she +knocked daily at their door till she knew that Clementina had heard from +home. The girl's mother wrote, without a punctuation mark in her letter, +but with a great deal of sense, that such a thing as her going to Europe +could not be settled by telegraph. She did not think it worth while to +report all the facts of a consultation with the rector which they had +held upon getting Clementina's request, and which had renewed all the +original question of her relations with Mrs. Lander in an intensified +form. He had disposed of this upon much the same terms as before; and +they had yielded more readily because the experiment had so far +succeeded. Clementina had apparently no complaint to make of Mrs. +Lander; she was eager to go, and the rector and his wife, who had been +invited to be of the council, were both of the opinion that a course of +European travel would be of the greatest advantage to the girl, if she +wished to fit herself for teaching. It was an opportunity that they must +not think of throwing away. If Mrs. Lander went to Florence, as it +seemed from Clementina's letter she thought of doing, the girl would pass +a delightful winter in study of one of the most interesting cities in the +world, and she would learn things which would enable her to do better for +herself when she came home than she could ever hope to do otherwise. She +might never marry, Mr. Richling suggested, and it was only right and fair +that she should be equipped with as much culture as possible for the +struggle of life; Mrs. Richling agreed with this rather vague theory, but +she was sure that Clementina would get married to greater advantage in +Florence than anywhere else. They neither of them really knew anything +at first hand about Florence; the rector's opinion was grounded on the +thought of the joy that a sojourn in Italy would have been to him; his +wife derived her hope of a Florentine marriage for Clementina from +several romances in which love and travel had gone hand in hand, to the +lasting credit of triumphant American girlhood. + +The Claxons were not able to enter into their view of the case, but if +Mrs. Lander wanted to go to Florence instead of Florida they did not see +why Clementina should not go with her to one place as well as the other. +They were not without a sense of flattery from the fact that their +daughter was going to Europe; but they put that as far from them as they +could, the mother severely and the father ironically, as something too +silly, and they tried not to let it weigh with them in making up their +mind, but to consider only Clementina's best good, and not even to regard +her pleasure. Her mother put before her the most crucial questions she +could think of, in her letter, and then gave her full leave from her +father as well as herself to go if she wished. + +Clementina had rather it had been too late to go with the Milrays, but +she felt bound to own her decision when she reached it; and Mrs. Milray, +whatever her real wish was, made it a point of honor to help get Mrs. +Lander berths on her steamer. It did not require much effort; there are +plenty of berths for the latest-comers on a winter passage, and +Clementina found herself the fellow passenger of Mrs. Milray. + + + + +XVI. + +As soon as Mrs. Lander could make her way to her state-room, she got into +her berth, and began to take the different remedies for sea-sickness +which she had brought with her. Mrs. Milray said that was nice, and that +now she and Clementina could have a good tune. But before it came to +that she had taken pity on a number of lonely young men whom she found on +board. She cheered them up by walking round the ship with them; but if +any of them continued dull in spite of this, she dropped him, and took +another; and before she had been two days out she had gone through with +nearly all the lonely young men on the list of cabin passengers. She +introduced some of them to Clementina, but at such times as she had them +in charge; and for the most part she left her to Milray. Once, as the +girl sat beside him in her steamer-chair, Mrs. Milray shed a wrap on his +knees in whirring by on the arm of one of her young men, with some +laughed and shouted charge about it. + +"What did she say?" he asked Clementina, slanting the down-pulled brim +of his soft hat purblindly toward her. + +She said she had not understood, and then Milray asked, "What sort of +person is that Boston youth of Mrs. Milray's? Is he a donkey or a lamb?" + +Clementina said ingenuously, "Oh, she's walking with that English +gentleman now--that lo'd." + +"Ah, yes," said Milray. "He's not very much to look at, I hear." + +"Well, not very much," Clementina admitted; she did not like to talk +against people. + +"Lords are sometimes disappointing, Clementina," Milray said, "but then, +so are other great men. I've seen politicians on our side who were +disappointing, and there are clergymen and gamblers who don't look it." +He laughed sadly. "That's the way people talk who are a little +disappointing themselves. I hope you don't expect too much of yourself, +Clementina?" + +"I don't know what you mean," she said, stiffening with a suspicion that +he might be going to make fun of her. + +He laughed more gayly. "Well, I mean we must hold the other fellows up +to their duty, or we can't do our own. We need their example. Charity +may begin at home, but duty certainly begins abroad." He went on, as if +it were a branch of the same inquiry, "Did you ever meet my sisters? +They came to the hotel in New York to see Mrs. Milray." + +"Yes, I was in the room once when they came in." + +"Did you like them?" + +"Yes--I sca'cely spoke to them--I only stayed a moment." + +"Would you like to see any more of the family?" + +"Why, of cou'se!" Clementina was amused at his asking, but he seemed in +earnest. + +"One of my sisters lives in Florence, and Mrs. Milray says you think of +going there, too." + +"Mrs. Landa thought it would be a good place to spend the winter. Is it +a pleasant place?" + +"Oh, delightful! Do you know much about Italy?" + +"Not very much, I don't believe." + +"Well, my sister has lived a good while in Florence. I should like to +give you a letter to her." + +"Oh, thank you!" said Clementina. + +Milray smiled at her spare acknowledgment, but inquired gravely: "What do +you expect to do in Florence?" + +"Why, I presume, whateva Mrs. Landa wants to do." + +"Do you think Mrs. Lander will want to go into society?" + +This question had not occurred to Clementina. "I don't believe she +will," she said, thoughtfully. + +"Shall you?" + +Clementina laughed, " Why, do you think," she ventured, " that society +would want me to?" + +"Yes, I think it would, if you're as charming as you've tried to make me +believe. Oh, I don't mean, to your own knowledge; but some people have +ways of being charming without knowing it. If Mrs. Lander isn't going +into society, and there should be a way found for you to go, don't +refuse, will you?" + +"I shall wait and see if I'm asked, fust." + +"Yes, that will be best," said Milray. "But I shall give you a letter to +my sister. She and I used to be famous cronies, and we went to a great +many parties together when we were young people. We thought the world +was a fine thing, then. But it changes." + +He fell into a muse, and they were both sitting quite silent when Mrs. +Milray came round the corner of the music room in the course of her +twentieth or thirtieth compass of the deck, and introduced her lord to +her husband and to Clementina. He promptly ignored Milray, and devoted +himself to the girl, leaning over her with his hand against the bulkhead +behind her and talking down upon her. + +Lord Lioncourt must have been about thirty, but he had the heated and +broken complexion of a man who has taken more than is good for him in +twice that number of years. This was one of the wrongs nature had done +him in apparent resentment of the social advantages he was born to, for +he was rather abstemious, as Englishmen go. He looked a very shy person +till he spoke, and then you found that he was not in the least shy. He +looked so English that you would have expected a strong English accent of +him, but his speech was more that of an American, without the nasality. +This was not apparently because he had been much in America; he was +returning from his first visit to the States, which had been spent +chiefly in the Territories; after a brief interval of Newport he had +preferred the West; he liked rather to hunt than to be hunted, though +even in the West his main business had been to kill time, which he found +more plentiful there than other game. The natives, everywhere, were much +the same thing to him; if he distinguished it was in favor of those who +did not suppose themselves cultivated. If again he had a choice it was +for the females; they seemed to him more amusing than the males, who +struck him as having an exaggerated reputation for humor. He did not +care much for Clementina's past, as he knew it from Mrs. Milray, and if +it did not touch his fancy, it certainly did not offend his taste. A +real artistocracy is above social prejudice, when it will; he had known +some of his order choose the mothers of their heirs from the music halls, +and when it came to a question of distinctions among Americans, he could +not feel them. They might be richer or poorer; but they could not be +more patrician or more plebeian. + +The passengers, he told Clementina, were getting up, at this point of the +ship's run, an entertainment for the benefit of the seaman's hospital in +Liverpool, that well-known convention of ocean-travel, which is sure at +some time or other, to enlist all the talent on board every English +steamer in some sort of public appeal. He was not very clear how he came +to be on the committee for drumming up talent for the occasion; his +distinction seemed to have been conferred by a popular vote in the +smoking room, as nearly as he could make out; but here he was, and he was +counting upon Miss Claxon to help him out. He said Mrs. Milray had told +him about that charming affair they had got up in the mountains, and he +was sure they could have something of the kind again. "Perhaps not a +coaching party; that mightn't be so easy to manage at sea. But isn't +there something else--some tableaux or something? If we couldn't have +the months of the year we might have the points of the compass, and you +could take your choice." + +He tried to get something out of the notion, but nothing came of it that +Mrs. Milray thought possible. She said, across her husband, on whose +further side she had sunk into a chair, that they must have something +very informal; everybody must do what they could, separately. "I know +you can do anything you like, Clementina. Can't you play something, or +sing?" At Clementina's look of utter denial, she added, desperately, +"Or dance something? "A light came into the girl's face at which she +caught. "I know you can dance something! Why, of course! Now, what is +it?" + +Clementina smiled at her vehemence. "Why, it's nothing. And I don't +know whether I should like to." + +"Oh, yes," urged Lord Lioncourt. "Such a good cause, you know." + +"What is it?" Mrs. Milray insisted. "Is it something you could do +alone?" + +"It's just a dance that I learned at Woodlake. The teacha said that all +the young ladies we'e leaning it. It's a skut-dance"-- + +"The very thing!" Mrs. Milray shouted. "It'll be the hit of the +evening." + +"But I've never done it before any one," Clementina faltered. + +"They'll all be doing their turns," the Englishman said. "Speaking, and +singing, and playing." + +Clementina felt herself giving way, and she pleaded in final reluctance, +"But I haven't got a pleated skut in my steama trunk." + +"No matter! We can manage that." Mrs. Milray jumped to her feet and +took Lord Lioncourt's arm. "Now we must go and drum up somebody else." +He did not seem eager to go, but he started. "Then that's all settled," +she shouted over her shoulder to Clementina. + +"No, no, Mrs. Milray! "Clementina called after her. "The ship tilts +so"-- + +"Nonsense! It's the smoothest run she ever made in December. And I'll +engage to have the sea as steady as a rock for you. Remember, now, +you've promised." + +Mrs. Milray whirled her Englishman away, and left Clementina sitting +beside her husband. + +"Did you want to dance for them, Clementina?" he asked. + +"I don't know," she said, with the vague smile of one to whom a pleasant +hope has occurred. + +"I thought perhaps you were letting Mrs. Milray bully you into it. She's +a frightful tyrant." + +"Oh, I guess I should like to do it, if you think it would be--nice." + +"I dare say it will be the nicest thing at their ridiculous show." +Milray laughed as if her willingness to do the dance had defeated a +sentimental sympathy in him. + +"I don't believe it will be that," said Clementina, beaming joyously. +"But I guess I shall try it, if I can find the right kind of a dress." + +"Is a pleated skirt absolutely necessary," asked Milray, gravely. + +"I don't see how I could get on without it," said Clementina. + +She was so serious still when she went down to her state-room that Mrs. +Lander was distracted from her potential ailments to ask: "What is it, +Clementina?" + +"Oh, nothing. Mrs. Milray has got me to say that I would do something at +a concert they ah' going to have on the ship." She explained, "It's that +skut dance I learnt at Woodlake of Miss Wilson." + +"Well, I guess if you're worryin' about that you needn't to." + +"Oh, I'm not worrying about the dance. I was just thinking what I should +wear. If I could only get at the trunks!" + +"It won't make any matte what you wear," said Mrs. Lander. "It'll be the +greatest thing; and if 't wa'n't for this sea-sickness that I have to +keep fightin' off he'a, night and day, I should come up and see you +myself. You ah' just lovely in that dance, Clementina." + +"Do you think so, Mrs. Landa?" asked the girl, gratefully. "Well, Mr. +Milray didn't seem to think that I need to have a pleated skut. Any +rate, I'm going to look over my things, and see if I can't make something +else do." + + + + +XVII. + +The entertainment was to be the second night after that, and Mrs. Milray +at first took the whole affair into her own hands. She was willing to +let the others consult with her, but she made all the decisions, and she +became so prepotent that she drove Lord Lioncourt to rebellion in the +case of some theatrical people whom he wanted in the programme. He +wished her to let them feel that they were favoring rather than favored, +and she insisted that it should be quite the other way. She professed a +scruple against having theatrical people in the programme at all, which +she might not have felt if her own past had been different, and she spoke +with an abhorrence of the stage which he could by no means tolerate in +the case. She submitted with dignity when she could not help it. +Perhaps she submitted with too much dignity. Her concession verged upon +hauteur; and in her arrogant meekness she went back to another of her +young men, whom she began to post again as the companion of her +promenades. + +He had rather an anxious air in the enjoyment of the honor, but the +Englishman seemed unconscious of its loss, or else he chose to ignore it. +He frankly gave his leisure to Clementina, and she thought he was very +pleasant. There was something different in his way from that of any of +the other men she had met; something very natural and simple, a way of +being easy in what he was, and not caring whether he was like others or +not; he was not ashamed of being ignorant of anything he did not know, +and she was able to instruct him on some points. He took her quite +seriously when she told him about Middlemount, and how her family came to +settle there, and then how she came to be going to Europe with Mrs. +Lander. He said Mrs. Milray had spoken about it; but he had not +understood quite how it was before; and he hoped Mrs. Lander was coming +to the entertainment. + +He did not seem aware that Mrs. Milray was leaving the affair more and +more to him. He went forward with it and was as amiable with her as she +would allow. He was so amiable with everybody that he reconciled many +true Americans to his leadership, who felt that as nearly all the +passengers were Americans, the chief patron of the entertainment ought to +have been some distinguished American. The want of an American who was +very distinguished did something to pacify them; but the behavior of an +English lord who put on no airs was the main agency. When the night came +they filled the large music room of the 'Asia Minor', and stood about in +front of the sofas and chairs so many deep that it was hard to see or +hear through them. + +They each paid a shilling admittance; they were prepared to give +munificently besides when the hat came round; and after the first burst +of blundering from Lord Lioncourt, they led the magnanimous applause. +He said he never minded making a bad speech in a good cause, and he made +as bad a one as very well could be. He closed it by telling Mark Twain's +whistling story so that those who knew it by heart missed the paint; but +that might have been because he hurried it, to get himself out of the way +of the others following. When he had done, one of the most ardent of the +Americans proposed three cheers for him. + +The actress whom he had secured in spite of Mrs. Milray appeared in +woman's dress contrary to her inveterate professional habit, and followed +him with great acceptance in her favorite variety-stage song; and then +her husband gave imitations of Sir Henry Irving, and of Miss Maggie Kline +in "T'row him down, McCloskey," with a cockney accent. A frightened +little girl, whose mother had volunteered her talent, gasped a ballad to +her mother's accompaniment, and two young girls played a duet on the +mandolin and guitar. A gentleman of cosmopolitan military tradition, who +sold the pools in the smoking-room, and was the friend of all the men +present, and the acquaintance of several, gave selections of his +autobiography prefatory to bellowing in a deep bass voice, "They're +hanging Danny Deaver," and then a lady interpolated herself into the +programme with a kindness which Lord Lioncourt acknowledged, in saying +"The more the merrier," and sang Bonnie Dundee, thumping the piano out of +all proportion to her size and apparent strength. + +Some advances which Clementina had made for Mrs. Milray's help about the +dress she should wear in her dance met with bewildering indifference, and +she had fallen back upon her own devices. She did not think of taking +back her promise, and she had come to look forward to her part with a +happiness which the good weather and the even sway of the ship +encouraged. But her pulses fluttered, as she glided into the music room, +and sank into a chair next Mrs. Milray. She had on an accordion skirt +which she had been able to get out of her trunk in the hold, and she felt +that the glance of Mrs. Milray did not refuse it approval. + +"That will do nicely, Clementina," she said. She added, in careless +acknowledgement of her own failure to direct her choice, "I see you +didn't need my help after all," and the thorny point which Clementina +felt in her praise was rankling, when Lord Lioncourt began to introduce +her. + +He made rather a mess of it, but as soon as he came to an end of his +well-meant blunders, she stood up and began her poses and paces. It was +all very innocent, with something courageous as well as appealing. She +had a kind of tender dignity in her dance, and the delicate beauty of her +face translated itself into the grace of her movements. It was not +impersonal; there was her own quality of sylvan, of elegant in it; but it +was unconscious, and so far it was typical, it was classic; Mrs. Milray's +Bostonian achieved a snub from her by saying it was like a Botticelli; +and in fact it was merely the skirt-dance which society had borrowed from +the stage at that period, leaving behind the footlights its more +acrobatic phases, but keeping its pretty turns and bows and bends. +Clementina did it not only with tender dignity, but when she was fairly +launched in it, with a passion to which her sense of Mrs. Milray's +strange unkindness lent defiance. The dance was still so new a thing +then, that it had a surprise to which the girl's gentleness lent a +curious charm, and it had some adventitious fascinations from the +necessity she was in of weaving it in and out among the stationary +armchairs and sofas which still further cramped the narrow space where +she gave it. Her own delight in it shone from her smiling face, which +was appealingly happy. Just before it should have ended, one of those +wandering waves that roam the smoothest sea struck the ship, and +Clementina caught herself skilfully from falling, and reeled to her seat, +while the room rang with the applause and sympathetic laughter for the +mischance she had baffled. There was a storm of encores, but Clementina +called out, "The ship tilts so!" and her naivete won her another burst of +favor, which was at its height when Lord Lioncourt had an inspiration. + +He jumped up and said, "Miss Claxon is going to oblige us with a little +bit of dramatics, now, and I'm sure you'll all enjoy that quite as much +as her beautiful dancing. She's going to take the principal part in the +laughable after-piece of Passing round the Hat, and I hope the audience +will--a--a--a--do the rest. She's consented on this occasion to use a +hat--or cap, rather--of her own, the charming Tam O'Shanter in which +we've all seen her, and--a--admired her about the ship for the week +past." + +He caught up the flat woolen steamer-cap which Clementina had left in her +seat beside Mrs. Milray when she rose to dance, and held it aloft. Some +one called out, "Chorus! For he's a jolly good fellow," and led off in +his praise. Lord Lioncourt shouted through the uproar the announcement +that while Miss Claxon was taking up the collection, Mr. Ewins, of +Boston, would sing one of the student songs of Cambridge--no! Harvard-- +University; the music being his own. + +Everyone wanted to make some joke or some compliment to Clementina about +the cap which grew momently heavier under the sovereigns and half +sovereigns, half crowns and half dollars, shillings, quarters, greenbacks +and every fraction of English and American silver; and the actor who had +given the imitations, made bold, as he said, to ask his lordship if the +audience might not hope, before they dispersed, for something more from +Miss Claxon. He was sure she could do something more; he for one would +be glad of anything; and Clementina turned from putting her cap into Mrs. +Milray's lap, to find Lord Lioncourt bowing at her elbow, and offering +her his arm to lead her to the spot where she had stood in dancing. + +The joy of her triumph went to her head; she wished to retrieve herself +from any shadow of defeat. + +She stood panting a moment, and then, if she had had the professional +instinct, she would have given her admirers the surprise of something +altogether different from what had pleased them before. That was what +the actor would have done, but Clementina thought of how her dance had +been brought to an untimely close by the rolling of the ship; she burned +to do it all as she knew it, no matter how the sea behaved, and in +another moment she struck into it again. This time the sea behaved +perfectly, and the dance ended with just the swoop and swirl she had +meant it to have at first. The spectators went generously wild over her; +they cheered and clapped her, and crowded upon her to tell how lovely it +was; but she escaped from them, and ran back to the place where she had +left Mrs. Milray. She was not there, and Clementina's cap full of alms +lay abandoned on the chair. Lord Lioncourt said he would take charge of +the money, if she would lend him her cap to carry it in to the purser, +and she made her way into the saloon. In a distant corner she saw Mrs. +Milray with Mr. Ewins. + +She advanced in a vague dismay toward them, and as she came near Mrs. +Milray said to Mr. Ewins, "I don't like this place. Let's go over +yonder." She rose and rushed him to the other end of the saloon. + +Lord Lioncourt came in looking about. "Ah, have you found her?" he +asked, gayly. "There were twenty pounds in your cap, and two hundred +dollars." + +"Yes," said Clementina, "she's over the'a." She pointed, and then shrank +and slipped away. + + + + +XVIII. + +At breakfast Mrs. Milray would not meet Clementina's eye; she talked to +the people across the table in a loud, lively voice, and then suddenly +rose, and swept past her out of the saloon. + +The girl did not see her again till Mrs. Milray came up on the promenade +at the hour when people who have eaten too much breakfast begin to spoil +their appetite for luncheon with the tea and bouillon of the deck- +stewards. She looked fiercely about, and saw Clementina seated in her +usual place, but with Lord Lioncourt in her own chair next her husband, +and Ewins on foot before her. They were both talking to Clementina, whom +Lord Lioncourt was accusing of being in low spirits unworthy of her last +night's triumphs. He jumped up, and offered his place, "I've got your +chair, Mrs. Milray." + +"Oh, no," she said, coldly, "I was just coming to look after Mr. Milray. +But I see he's in good hands." + +She turned away, as if to make the round of the deck, and Ewins hurried +after her. He came back directly, and said that Mrs. Milray had gone +into the library to write letters. He stayed, uneasily, trying to talk, +but with the air of a man who has been snubbed, and has not got back his +composure. + +Lord Lioncourt talked on until he had used up the incidents of the night +before, and the probabilities of their getting into Queenstown before +morning; then he and Mr. Ewins went to the smoking-room together, and +Clementina was left alone with Milray. + +"Clementina," he said, gently, "I don't see everything; but isn't there +some trouble between you and Mrs. Milray?" + +"Why, I don't know what it can be," answered the girl, with trembling +lips. "I've been trying to find out, and I can't undastand it." + +"Ah, those things are often very obscure," said Milray, with a patient +smile. + +Clementina wanted to ask him if Mrs. Milray had said anything to him +about her, but she could not, and he did not speak again till he heard +her stir in rising from her chair. Then he said, "I haven't forgotten +that letter to my sister, Clementina. I will give it to you before we +leave the steamer. Are you going to stay in Liverpool, over night, or +shall you go up to London at once?" + +"I don't know. It will depend upon how Mrs. Landa feels." + +"Well, we shall see each other again. Don't be worried." He looked up +at her with a smile, and he could not see how forlornly she returned it. + +As the day passed, Mrs. Milray's angry eyes seemed to search her out for +scorn whenever Clementina found herself the centre of her last night's +celebrity. Many people came up and spoke to her, at first with a certain +expectation of knowingness in her, which her simplicity baffled. Then +they either dropped her, and went away, or stayed and tried to make +friends with her because of this; an elderly English clergyman and his +wife were at first compassionately anxious about her, and then +affectionately attentive to her in her obvious isolation. Clementina's +simple-hearted response to their advances appeared to win while it +puzzled them; and they seemed trying to divine her in the strange double +character she wore to their more single civilization. The theatrical +people thought none the worse of her for her simple-hearted ness, +apparently; they were both very sweet to her, and wanted her to promise +to come and see them in their little box in St. John's Wood. Once, +indeed, Clementina thought she saw relenting in Mrs. Milray's glance, but +it hardened again as Lord Lioncourt and Mr. Ewins came up to her, and +began to talk with her. She could not go to her chair beside Milray, for +his wife was now keeping guard of him on the other side with unexampled +devotion. Lord Lioncourt asked her to walk with him and she consented. +She thought that Mr. Ewins would go and sit by Mrs. Milray, of course, +but when she came round in her tour of the ship, Mrs. Milray was sitting +alone beside her husband. + +After dinner she went to the library and got a book, but she could not +read there; every chair was taken by people writing letters to send back +from Queenstown in the morning; and she strayed into the ladies' sitting +room, where no ladies seemed ever to sit, and lost herself in a miserable +muse over her open page. + +Some one looked in at the door, and then advanced within and came +straight to Clementina; she knew without looking up that it was Mrs. +Milray. "I have been hunting for you, Miss Claxon," she said, in a voice +frostily fierce, and with a bearing furiously formal. "I have a letter +to Miss Milray that my busband wished me to write for you, and give you +with his compliments." + +"Thank you," said Clementina. She rose mechanically to her feet, and at +the same time Mrs. Milray sat down. + +"You will find Miss Milray," she continued, with the same glacial +hauteur, "a very agreeable and cultivated lady." + +Clementina said nothing; and Mrs. Milray added, + +"And I hope she may have the happiness of being more useful to you than I +have." + +"What do you mean, Mrs. Milray? "Clementina asked with unexpected spirit +and courage. + +"I mean simply this, that I have not succeeded in putting you on your +guard against your love of admiration--especially the admiration of +gentlemen. A young girl can't be too careful how she accepts the +attentions of gentlemen, and if she seems to invite them--" + +"Mrs. Milray cried Clementina. "How can you say such a thing to me?" + +"How? I shall have to be plain with you, I see. Perhaps I have not +considered that, after all, you know nothing about life and are not to +blame for things that a person born and bred in the world would +understand from childhood. If you don't know already, I can tell you +that the way you have behaved with Lord Lioncourt during the last two or +three days, and the way you showed your pleasure the other night in his +ridiculous flatteries of you, was enough to make you the talk of the +whole steamer. I advise you for your own sake to take my warning in +time. You are very young, and inexperienced and ignorant, but that will +not save you in the eyes of the world if you keep on." Mrs. Milray rose. +"And now I will leave you to think of what I have said. Here is the +letter for Miss Milray--" + +Clementina shook her head. "I don't want it." + +"You don't want it? But I have written it at Mr. Milray's request, and I +shall certainly leave it with you!" + +"If you do," said Clementina, "I shall not take it!" + +"And what shall I say to Mr. Milray?" + +"What you have just said to me." + +"What have I said to you?" + +"That I'm a bold girl, and that I've tried to make men admi'a me." + +Mrs. Milray stopped as if suddenly daunted by a fact that had not +occurred to her before. "Did I say that?" + +"The same as that." + +"I didn't mean that--I--merely meant to put you on your guard. It may be +because you are so innocent yourself, that you can't imagine what others +think, and--I did it out of my regard for you." + +Clementina did not answer. + +Mrs. Milray went on, "That was why I was so provoked with you. I think +that for a young girl to stand up and dance alone before a whole steamer +full of strangers"--Clementina looked at her without speaking, and Mrs. +Milray hastened to say, "To be sure I advised you to do it, but I +certainly was surprised that you should give an encore. But no matter, +now. This letter--" + +"I can't take it, Mrs. Milray," said Clementina, with a swelling heart. + +"Now, listen!" urged Mrs. Milray. "You think I'm just saying it +because, if you don't take it I shall have to tell Mr. Milray I was so +hateful to you, you couldn't. Well, I should hate to tell him that; but +that isn't the reason. There!" She tore the letter in pieces, and threw +it on the floor. Clementina did not make any sign of seeing this, and +Mrs. Milray dropped upon her chair again. "Oh, how hard you are! Can't +you say something to me?" + +Clementina did not lift her eyes. "I don't feel like saying anything +just now." + +Mrs. Milray was silent a moment. Then she sighed. "Well, you may hate +me, but I shall always be your friend. What hotel are you going to in +Liverpool? + +"I don't know," said Clementina. + +"You had better come to the one where we go. I'm afraid Mrs. Lander +won't know how to manage very well, and we've been in Liverpool so often. +May I speak to her about it?" + +"If you want to," Clementina coldly assented. + +"I see!" said Mrs. Milray. "You don't want to be under the same roof +with me. Well, you needn't! But I'll tell you a good hotel: the one +that the trains start out of; and I'll send you that letter for Miss +Milray." Clemeutina was silent. "Well, I'll send it, anyway." + +Mrs. Milray went away in sudden tears, but the girl remained dry-eyed. + + + + +XIX. + +Mrs. Lander realized when the ship came to anchor in the stream at +Liverpool that she had not been seasick a moment during the voyage. In +the brisk cold of the winter morning, as they came ashore in the tug, she +fancied a property of health in the European atmosphere, which she was +sure would bring her right up, if she stayed long enough; and a regret +that she had never tried it with Mr. Lander mingled with her new hopes +for herself. + +But Clementina looked with home-sick eyes at the strangeness of the alien +scene: the pale, low heaven which seemed not to be clouded and yet was so +dim; the flat shores with the little railroad trains running in and out +over them; the grimy bulks of the city, and the shipping in the river, +sparse and sombre after the gay forest of sails and stacks at New York. + +She did not see the Milrays after she left the tug, in the rapid +dispersal of the steamer's passengers. They both took leave of her at +the dock, and Mrs. Milray whispered with penitence in her voice and eyes, +I will write," but the girl did not answer. + +Before Mrs. Lander's trunks and her own were passed, she saw Lord +Lioncourt going away with his heavily laden man at his heels. Mr. Ewins +came up to see if he could help her through the customs, but she believed +that be had come at Mrs. Milray's bidding, and she thanked him so +prohibitively that he could not insist. The English clergyman who had +spoken to her the morning after the charity entertainment left his wife +with Mrs. Lander, and came to her help, and then Mr. Ewins went his way. + +The clergyman, who appeared to feel the friendlessness of the young girl +and the old woman a charge laid upon him, bestowed a sort of fatherly +protection upon them both. He advised them to stop at a hotel for a few +hours and take the later train for London that he and his wife were going +up by; they drove to the hotel together, where Mrs. Lander could not be +kept from paying the omnibus, and made them have luncheon with her. She +allowed the clergyman to get her tickets, and she could not believe that +be had taken second class tickets for himself and his wife. She said +that she had never heard of anyone travelling second class before, and +she assured him that they never did it in America. She begged him to let +her pay the difference, and bring his wife into her compartment, which +the guard had reserved for her. She urged that the money was nothing to +her, compared with the comfort of being with some one you knew; and the +clergyman had to promise that as they should be neighbors, he would look +in upon her, whenever the train stopped long enough. + +Before it began to move, Clementina thought she saw Lord Lioncourt +hurrying past their carriage-window. At Rugby the clergyman appeared, +but almost before he could speak, Lord Lioncourt's little red face showed +at his elbow. He asked Clementina to present him to Mrs. Lander, who +pressed him to get into her compartment; the clergyman vanished, and Lord +Lioncourt yielded. + +Mrs. Lander found him able to tell her the best way to get to Florence, +whose situation he seemed to know perfectly; he confessed that he had +been there rather often. He made out a little itinerary for going +straight through by sleeping-car as soon as you crossed the Channel; she +had said that she always liked a through train when she could get it, and +the less stops the better. She bade Clementina take charge of the plan +and not lose it; without it she did not see what they could do. She +conceived of him as a friend of Clementina's, and she lost in the strange +environment the shyness she had with most people. She told him how Mr. +Lander had made his money, and from what beginnings he rose to be +ignorant of what he really was worth when he died. She dwelt upon the +diseases they had suffered, and at the thought of his death, so +unnecessary in view of the good that the air was already doing her in +Europe, she shed tears. + +Lord Lioncourt was very polite, but there was no resumption of the ship's +comradery in his manner. Clementina could not know how quickly this +always drops from people who have been fellow-passengers; and she +wondered if he were guarding himself from her because she had danced at +the charity entertainment. The poison which Mrs. Milray had instilled +worked in her thoughts while she could not help seeing how patient he was +with all Mrs. Lander's questions; he answered them with a simplicity of +his own, or laughed and put them by, when they were quite impossible. +Many of them related to the comparative merits of English and American +railroads, and what he thought himself of these. Mrs. Lander noted the +difference of the English stations; but she did not see much in the +landscape to examine him upon. She required him to tell her why the +rooks they saw were not crows, and she was not satisfied that he should +say the country seat she pointed out was a castle when it was plainly +deficient in battlements. She based upon his immovable confidence in +respect to it an inquiry into the structure of English society, and she +made him tell her what a lord was, and a commoner, and how the royal +family differed from both. She asked him how he came to be a lord, and +when he said that it was a peerage of George the Third's creation, she +remembered that George III. was the one we took up arms against. She +found that Lord Lioncourt knew of our revolution generally, but was +ignorant of such particulars as the Battle of Bunker Hill, and the +Surrender of Cornwallis, as well as the throwing of the Tea into Boston +Harbor; he was much struck by this incident, and said, And quite right, +he was sure. + +He told Clementina that her friends the Milrays had taken the steamer for +London in the morning. He believed they were going to Egypt for the +winter. Cairo, he said, was great fun, and he advised Mrs. Lander, if +she found Florence a bit dull, to push on there. She asked if it was an +easy place to get to, and he assured her that it was very easy from +Italy. + +Mrs. Lander was again at home in her world of railroads and hotels; but +she confessed, after he left them at the next station, that she should +have felt more at home if he had been going on to London with them. She +philosophized him to the disadvantage of her own countrymen as much less +offish than a great many New York and Boston peuple. He had given her a +good opinion of the whole English nation; and the clergyman, who had been +so nice to them at Liverpool, confirmed her friendly impressions of +England by getting her a small omnibus at the station in London before he +got a cab for himself and his wife, and drove away to complete his own +journey on another road. She celebrated the omnibus as if it were an +effect of his goodness in her behalf. She admired its capacity for +receiving all their trunks, and saving the trouble and delay of the +express, which always vexed her so much in New York, and which had nearly +failed in getting her baggage to the steamer in time. + +The omnibus remained her chief association with London, for she decided +to take the first through train for Italy in the morning. She wished to +be settled, by which she meant placed in a Florentine hotel for the +winter. That lord, as she now began and always continued to call +Lioncourt, had first given her the name of the best little hotel in +Florence, but as it had neither elevator nor furnace heat in it, he +agreed in the end that it would not do for her, and mentioned the most +modern and expensive house on the Lungarno. He told her he did not think +she need telegraph for rooms; but she took this precaution before leaving +London, and was able to secure them at a price which seemed to her quite +as much as she would have had to pay for the same rooms at a first class +hotel on the Back Bay. + +The manager had reserved for her one of the best suites, which had just +been vacated by a Russian princess. "I guess you better cable to your +folks where you ah', Clementina," she said. "Because if you're +satisfied, I am, and I presume we sha'n't want to change as long as we +stay in Florence. My, but it's sightly ! "She joined Clementina a +moment at the windows looking upon the Arno, and the hills beyond it. +"I guess you'll spend most of your time settin' at this winder, and I +sha'n't blame you." + +They had arrived late in the dull, soft winter afternoon. The landlord +led the way himself to their apartment, and asked if they would have +fire; a facchino came in and kindled roaring blazes on the hearths; at +the same time a servant lighted all the candles on the tables and +mantels. They both gracefully accepted the fees that Mrs. Lander made +Clementina give them; the facchino kissed the girl's hand. "My!" said +Mrs. Lander, "I guess you never had your hand kissed before." + +The hotel developed advantages which, if not those she was used to, were +still advantages. The halls were warmed by a furnace, and she came to +like the little logs burning in her rooms. In the care of her own fire, +she went back to the simple time of her life in the country, and chose to +kindle it herself when it died out, with the fagots of broom that blazed +up so briskly. + +In the first days of her stay she made inquiry for the best American +doctor in Florence; and she found him so intelligent that she at once put +her liver in his charge, with a history of her diseases and symptoms of +every kind. She told him that she was sure that he could have cured Mr. +Lander, if he had only had him in time; she exacted a new prescription +from him for herself, and made him order some quinine pills for +Clementina against the event of her feeling debilitated by the air of +Florence. + + + + +XX. + +In these first days a letter came to Clementina from Mrs. Lander's +banker, enclosing the introduction which Mrs. Milray had promised to her +sister-in-law. It was from Mr. Milray, as before, and it was in Mrs. +Milray's handwriting; but no message from her came with it. To +Clementina it explained itself, but she had to explain it to Mrs. Lander. +She had to tell her of Mrs. Milray's behavior after the entertainment on +the steamer, and Mrs. Lander said that Clementina had done just exactly +right; and they both decided, against some impulses of curiosity in +Clementina's heart, that she should not make use of the introduction. + +The 'Hotel des Financieres' was mainly frequented by rich Americans full +of ready money, and by rich Russians of large credit. Better Americans +and worse, went, like the English, to smaller and cheaper hotels; and +Clementina's acquaintance was confined to mothers as shy and +ungrammatical as Mrs. Lander herself, and daughters blankly indifferent +to her. Mrs. Lander drove out every day when it did not rain, and she +took Clementina with her, because the doctor said it would do them both +good; but otherwise the girl remained pent in their apartment. The +doctor found her a teacher, and she kept on with her French, and began to +take lessons in Italian; she spoke with no one but her teacher, except +when the doctor came. At the table d'hote she heard talk of the things +that people seemed to come to Florence for: pictures, statues, palaces, +famous places; and it made her ashamed of not knowing about them. But +she could not go to see these things alone, and Mrs. Lander, in the +content she felt with all her circumstances, seemed not to suppose that +Clementina could care for anything but the comfort of the hotel and the +doctor's visits. When the girl began to get letters from home in answer +to the first she had written back, boasting how beautiful Florence was, +they assumed that she was very gay, and demanded full accounts of her +pleasures. Her brother Jim gave something of the village news, but he +said he supposed that she would not care for that, and she would probably +be too proud to speak to them when she came home. The Richlings had +called in to share the family satisfaction in Clementina's first +experiences, and Mrs. Richling wrote her very sweetly of their happiness +in them. She charged her from the rector not to forget any chance of +self-improvement in the allurements of society, but to make the most of +her rare opportunities. She said that they had got a guide-book to +Florence, with a plan of the city, and were following her in the +expeditions they decided she must be making every day; they were reading +up the Florentine history in Sismondi's Italian Republics, and she bade +Clementina be sure and see all the scenes of Savonarola's martyrdom, so +that they could talk them over together when she returned. + +Clexnentina wondered what Mrs. Richling would think if she told her that +all she knew of Florence was what she overheard in the talk of the girls +in the hotel, who spoke before her of their dances and afternoon teas, +and evenings at the opera, and drives in the Cascine, and parties to +Fiesole, as if she were not by. + +The days and weeks passed, until Carnival was half gone, and Mrs. Lander +noticed one day that Clementina appeared dull. "You don't seem to get +much acquainted?" she suggested. + +"Oh, the'e's plenty of time," said Clementina. + +"I wish the'e was somebody you could go round with, and see the place. +Shouldn't yon like to see the place? " Mrs. Lander pursued. + +"There's no hurry about it, Mrs. Lander. It will stay as long as we do." + +Mrs. Lander was thoughtfully silent. Then she said, "I declare, I've got +half a mind to make you send that letta to Miss Milray, after all. What +difference if Mrs. Milray did act so ugly to you? He never did, and +she's his sista." + +"Oh, I don't want to send it, Mrs. Landa; you mustn't ask me to. I shall +get along," said Clementina. The recognition of her forlornness deepened +it, but she was cheerfuller, for no reason, the next morning; and that +afternoon, the doctor unexpectedly came upon a call which he made haste +to say was not professional. + +"I've just come from another patient of mine, and I promised to ask if +you had not crossed on the same ship with a brother of hers,--Mr. +Milray." + +Celementina and Mrs. Lander looked guiltily at each other. "I guess we +did," Mrs. Lander owned at last, with a reluctant sigh. + +"Then, she says you have a letter for her." + +The doctor spoke to both, but his looks confessed that he was not +ignorant of the fact when Mrs. Lander admitted, "Well Clementina, he'e, +has." + +"She wants to know why you haven't delivered it," the doctor blurted out. + +Mrs. Lander looked at Clementina. "I guess she ha'n't quite got round to +it yet, have you, Clementina?" + +The doctor put in: "Well, Miss Milray is rather a dangerous person to +keep waiting. If you don't deliver it pretty soon, I shouldn't be +surprised if she came to get it." Dr. Welwright was a young man in the +early thirties, with a laugh that a great many ladies said had done more +than any one thing for them, and he now prescribed it for Clementina. +But it did not seem to help her in the trouble her face betrayed. + +Mrs. Lander took the word, "Well, I wouldn't say it to everybody. But +you're our doctor, and I guess you won't mind it. We don't like the way +Mrs. Milray acted to Clementina, in the ship, and we don't want to be +beholden to any of her folks. I don't know as Clementina wants me to +tell you just what it was, and I won't; but that's the long and sho't of +it." + +"I'm sorry," the doctor said. "I've never met Mrs. Milray, but Miss +Milray has such a pleasant house, and likes to get young people about +her. There are a good many young people in your hotel, though, and I +suppose you all have a very good time here together." He ended by +speaking to Clementina, and now he said he had done his errand, and must +be going. + +When he was gone, Mrs. Lander faltered, "I don't know but what we made a +mistake, Clementina." + +It's too late to worry about it now," said the girl. + +We ha'n't bound to stay in Florence," said Mrs. Lander, thoughtfully. +"I only took the rooms by the week, and we can go, any time, Clementina, +if you are uncomf'table bein' here on Miss Milray's account. We could go +to Rome; they say Rome's a nice place; or to Egypt." + +Mrs. Milray's in Egypt," Clementina suggested. + +That's true," Mrs. Lander admitted, with a sigh. After a while she went +on, "I don't know as we've got any right to keep the letter. It belongs +to her, don't it?" + +"I guess it belongs to me, as much as it does to her," said Clementina. +"If it's to her, it's for me. I am not going to send it, Mrs. Landa." + +They were still in this conclusion when early in the following afternoon +Miss Milray's cards were brought up for Mrs. Lander and Miss Claxon. + +"Well, I decla'e!" cried Mrs. Lander. "That docta: must have gone +straight and told her what we said." + +"He had no right to," said Clementina, but neither of them was +displeased, and after it was over, Mrs. Lander said that any one would +have thought the call was for her, instead of Clementina, from the way +Miss Milray kept talking to her. She formed a high opinion of her; and +Miss Milray put Clementina in mind of Mr. Milray; she had the same hair +of chiseled silver, and the same smile; she moved like him, and talked +like him; but with a greater liveliness. She asked fondly after him, +and made Clementina tell her if he seemed quite well, and in good +spirits; she was civilly interested in Mrs. Milray's health. At the +embarrassment which showed itself in the girl, she laughed and said, +"Don't imagine I don't know all about it, Miss Claxon! My sister-in-law +has owned up very handsomely; she isn't half bad, as the English say, and +I think she likes owning up if she can do it safely." + +"And you don't think," asked Mrs. Lander, "that Clementina done wrong to +dance that way?" + +Clementina blushed, and Miss Milray laughed again. "If you'll let Miss +Claxon come to a little party I'm giving she may do her dance at my +house; but she sha'n't be obliged to do it, or anything she doesn't like. +Don't say she hasn't a gown ready, or something of that kind! You don't +know the resources of Florence, and how the dress makers here doat upon +doing impossible things in no time at all, and being ready before they +promise. If you'll put Miss Claxon in my hands, I'll see that she's +dressed for my dance. I live out on one of the hills over there, that +you see from your windows"--she nodded toward them--"in a beautiful +villa, too cold for winter, and too hot for summer, but I think Miss +Claxon can endure its discomfort for a day, if you can spare her, and she +will consent to leave you to the tender mercies of your maid, and "Miss +Milray paused at the kind of unresponsive blank to which she found +herself talking, and put up her lorgnette, to glance from Mrs. Lander to +Clementina. The girl said, with embarrassment, "I don't think I ought to +leave Mrs. 1anda, just now. She isn't very well, and I shouldn't like to +leave her alone." + +"But we're just as much obliged to you as if she could come," Mrs. Lander +interrupted; I and later on, maybe she can. You see, we han't got any +maid, yit. Well, we did have one at Woodlake, but she made us do so many +things for her, that we thought we should like to do a few things for +ouaselves, awhile." + +If Miss Milray perhaps did not conceive the situation, exactly, she said, +Oh, they were quite right in that; but she might count upon Miss Claxon +for her dance, might not she; and might not she do anything in her power +for them? She rose to go, but Mrs. Lander took her at her word, so far +as to say, Why, yes, if she could tell Clementina the best place to get a +dress she guessed the child would be glad enough to come to the dance. + +"Tell her!" Miss Milray cried. "I'll take her! Put on your hat, my +dear," she said to Clementina, "and come with me now. My carriage is at +your door." + +Clementina looked at Mrs. Lander, who said, "Go, of cou'se, child. I +wish I could go, too." + +"Do come, too," Miss Milray entreated. + +"No, no," said Mrs. Lander, flattered. "I a'n't feeling very well, to- +day. I guess I'm better off at home. But don't you hurry back on my +account, Clementina." While the girl was gone to put on her hat she +talked on about her. "She's the best gul in the wo'ld, and she won't be +one of the poorest; and I shall feel that I'm doin' just what Mr. Landa +would have wanted I should. He picked her out himself, moa than three +yea's ago, when we was drivin' past her house at Middlemount, and it was +to humor him afta he was gone, moa than anything else, that I took her. +Well, she wa'n't so very easy to git, either, I can tell you." She cut +short her history of the affair to say when Clementina came back, "I want +you should do the odderin' yourself, Miss Milray, and not let her scrimp +with the money. She wants to git some visitin' cahds; and if you miss +anything about her that she'd ought to have, or that any otha yong lady's +got, won't you just git it for her?" + +As soon as she imagined the case, Miss Milray set herself to overcome +Mrs. Lander's reluctance from a maid. She prevailed with her to try the +Italian woman whom she sent her, and in a day the genial Maddalena had +effaced the whole tradition of the bleak Ellida. It was not essential to +the understanding which instantly established itself between them that +they should have any language in common. They babbled at each other, +Mrs. Lander in her Bostonized Yankee, and Maddalena in her gutteral +Florentine, and Mrs. Lander was flattered to find how well she knew +Italian. + +Miss Milray had begun being nice to Clementina in fealty to her brother, +who so seldom made any proof of her devotion to him, and to whom she bad +remained passionately true through his shady past. She was eager to +humor his whim for the little country girl who had taken his fancy, +because it was his whim, and not because she had any hopes that +Clementina would justify it. She had made Dr. Welwright tell her all he +knew about her, and his report of her grace and beauty had piqued her +curiosity; his account of the forlorn dullness of her life with Mrs. +Lander in their hotel had touched her heart. But she was still skeptical +when she went to get her letter of introduction; when she brought +Clementina home from the dressmaker's she asked if she might kiss her, +and said she was already in love with her. + +Her love might have made her wish to do everything for her that she now +began to do, but it simplified the situation to account for her to the +world as the ward of Mrs. Lander, who was as rich as she was vulgar, and +it was with Clementina in this character that Miss Milray began to make +the round of afternoon teas, and inspired invitations for her at pleasant +houses, by giving a young ladies' lunch for her at her own. Before the +night of her little dance, she had lost any misgiving she had felt at +first, in the delight of seeing Clementina take the world as if she had +thought it would always behave as amiably as that, and as if she had +forgotten her unkind experiences to the contrary. She knew from Mrs. +Lander how the girls at their hotel had left her out, but Miss Milray +could not see that Clementina met them with rancor, when her authority +brought them together. If the child was humiliated by her past in the +gross lonely luxury of Mrs. Lander's life or the unconscious poverty of +her own home, she did not show it in the presence of the world that now +opened its arms to her. She remained so tranquil in the midst of all the +novel differences, that it made her friend feel rather vulgar in her +anxieties for her, and it was not always enough to find that she had not +gone wrong simply because she had hold still, and had the gift of waiting +for things to happen. Sometimes when Miss Milray had almost decided that +her passivity was the calm of a savage, she betrayed so sweet and +grateful a sense of all that was done for her, that her benefactress +decided that, she was not rustic, but was sylvan in a way of her own, +and not so much ignorant as innocent. She discovered that she was not +ignorant even of books, but with no literary effect from them she had +transmitted her reading into the substance of her native gentleness, and +had both ideas and convictions. When Clementina most affected her as an +untried wilderness in the conventional things she most felt her equality +to any social fortune that might befall her, and then she would have +liked to see her married to a title, and taking the glory of this world +with an unconsciousness that experience would never wholly penetrate. +But then again she felt that this would be somehow a profanation, and she +wanted to pack her up and get her back to Middlemount before anything of +the kind should happen. She gave Milray these impressions of Clementina +in the letter she wrote to thank him for her, and to scold him for +sending the girl to her. She accused him of wishing to get off on her a +riddle which he could not read himself; but she owned that the charm of +Clementina's mystery was worth a thousand times the fatigue of trying to +guess her out and that she was more and more infatuated with her every +day. + +In the meantime, Miss Milray's little dance grew upon her till it became +a very large one that filled her villa to overflowing when the time came +for it. She lived on one of the fine avenues of the Oltrarno region, +laid out in the brief period of prosperity which Florence enjoyed as the +capital of Italy. The villa was built at that time, and it was much +newer than the house on Seventeenth street in New York, where she spent +the girlhood that had since prolonged itself beyond middle life with her. +She had first lived abroad in the Paris of the Second Empire, and she had +been one winter in Rome, but she had settled definitely in Florence +before London became an American colony, so that her friends were chiefly +Americans, though she had a wide international acquaintance. Perhaps her +habit of taking her brother's part, when he was a black sheep, inclined +her to mercy with people who had not been so blameless in their morals as +they were in their minds and manners. She exacted that they should be +interesting and agreeable, and not too threadbare; but if they had +something that decently buttoned over the frayed places, she did not +frown upon their poverty. Bohemians of all kinds liked her; Philistines +liked her too; and in such a place as Florence, where the Philistines +themselves are a little Bohemian, she might be said to be very popular. +You met persons whom you did not quite wish to meet at her house, but if +these did not meet you there, it was your loss. + +On the night of the dance the line of private carriages, remises and +cabs, lined the Viale Ariosto for a mile up and down before her gates, +where young artists of both sexes arrived on foot. By this time her +passion for Clementina was at its height. She had Maddalena bring her +out early in the evening, and made her dress under her own eye and her +French maid's, while Maddalena went back to comfort Mrs. Lander. + +"I hated to leave her," said Clementina. "I don't believe she's very +well." + +"Isn't she always ill?" demanded Miss Milray. She embraced the girl +again, as if once were not enough. "Clementina, if Mrs. Lander won't +give you to me, I'm going to steal you. Do you know what I want you to +do tonight? I want you to stand up with me, and receive, till the +dancing begins, as if it were your coming-out. I mean to introduce +everybody to you. You'll be easily the prettiest girl, there, and you'll +have the nicest gown, and I don't mean that any of your charms shall be +thrown away. You won't be frightened?" + +"No, I don't believe I shall," said Clementina. "You can tell me what to +do." + +The dress she wore was of pale green, like the light seen in thin woods; +out of it shone her white shoulders, and her young face, as if rising +through the verdurous light. The artists, to a man and woman, wished to +paint her, and severally told her so, during the evening which lasted +till morning. She was not surprised when Lord Lioncourt appeared, toward +midnight, and astonished Miss Milray by claiming acquaintance with +Clementina. He asked about Mrs. Lander, and whether she had got to +Florence without losing the way; he laughed but he seemed really to care. +He took Clementina out to supper, when the time came; and she would have +topped him by half a head as she leaned on his arm, if she had not +considerately drooped and trailed a little after him. + +She could not know what a triumph he was making for her; and it was +merely part of the magic of the time that Mr. Ewins should come in +presently with one of the ladies. He had arrived in Florence that day, +and had to be brought unasked. He put on the effect of an old friend +with her; but Clementina's curiosity was chiefly taken with a tall +American, whom she thought very handsome. His light yellow hair was +brushed smooth across his forehead like a well-behaving boy's; he was +dressed like the other men, but he seemed not quite happy in his evening +coat, and his gloves which he smote together uneasily from time to time. +He appeared to think that somehow the radiant Clementina would know how +he felt; he did not dance, and he professed to have found himself at the +party by a species of accident. He told her that he was out in Europe +looking after a patent right that he had just taken hold of, and was +having only a middling good time. He pretended surprise to hear her say +that she was having a first-rate time, and he tried to reason her out of +it. He confessed that from the moment he came into the room he had made +up his mind to take her to supper, and had never been so disgusted in his +life as when he saw that little lord toddling off with her, and trying to +look as large as life. He asked her what a lord was like, anyway, and he +made her laugh all the time. + +He told her his name, G. W. Hinkle, and asked whether she would be likely +to remember it if they ever met again. + +Another man who interested her very much was a young Russian, with +curling hair and neat, small features who spoke better English than she +did, and said he was going to be a writer, but had not yet decided +whether to write in Russian or French; she supposed he had wanted her +advice, but he did not wait for it, or seem to expect it. He was very +much in earnest, while he fanned her, and his earnestness amused her as +much as the American's irony. He asked which city of America she came +from, and when she said none, he asked which part of America. She +answered New England, and he said, "Oh, yes, that is where they have the +conscience." She did not know what he meant, and he put before her the +ideal of New England girlhood which he had evolved from reading American +novels. "Are you like that?" he demanded. + +She laughed, and said, "Not a bit," and asked him if he had ever met such +an American girl, and he said, frankly, No; the American girls were all +mercenary, and cared for nothing but money, or marrying titles. He added +that he had a title, but he would not wear it. + +Clementina said she did not believe she cared for titles, and then he +said, "But you care for money." She denied it, but as if she had +confessed it, he went on: "The only American that I have seen with that +conscience was a man. I will tell you of him, if you wish." + +He did not wait for her answer. "It was in Naples--at Pompeii. I saw at +the first glance that he was different from other Americans, and I +resolved to know him. He was there in company with a stupid boy, whose +tutor he was; and he told me that he was studying to be a minister of the +Protestant church. Next year he will go home to be consecrated. He +promised to pass through Florence in the spring, and he will keep his +word. Every act, every word, every thought of his is regulated by +conscience. It is terrible, but it is beautiful." All the time, the +Russian was fanning Clementina, with every outward appearance of +flirtation. "Will you dance again? No? I should like to draw such a +character as his in a romance." + + + + +XXII. + +It was six o'clock in the morning before Miss Milray sent Clementina home +in her carriage. She would have kept her to breakfast, but Clementina +said she ought to go on Mrs. Lander's account, and she wished to go on +her own. + +She thought she would steal to bed without waking her, but she was +stopped by the sound of groans when she entered their apartment; the +light gushed from Mrs. Lander's door. Maddalena came out, and blessed +the name of her Latin deity (so much more familiar and approachable than +the Anglo-Saxon divinity) that Clementina had come at last, and poured +upon her the story of a night of suffering for Mrs. Lander. Through her +story came the sound of Mrs. Lander's voice plaintively reproachful, +summoning Clementina to her bedside. "Oh, how could you go away and +leave me? I've been in such misery the whole night long, and the docta +didn't do a thing for me. I'm puffectly wohn out, and I couldn't make my +wants known with that Italian crazy-head. If it hadn't been for the +portyary comin' in and interpretin', when the docta left, I don't know +what I should have done. I want you should give him a twenty-leary note +just as quick as you see him; and oh, isn't the docta comin'?" + +Clementina set about helping Maddalena put the room, which was in an +impassioned disorder, to rights; and she made Mrs. Lander a cup of her +own tea, which she had brought from S. S. Pierces in passing through +Boston; it was the first thing, the sufferer said, that had saved her +life. Clementina comforted her, and promised her that the doctor should +be there very soon; and before Mrs. Lander fell away to sleep, she was so +far out of danger as to be able to ask how Clementina had enjoyed +herself, and to be glad that she had such a good time. + +The doctor would not wake her when he came; he said that she had been +through a pretty sharp gastric attack, which would not recur, if she ate +less of the most unwholesome things she could get, and went more into the +air, and walked a little. He did not seem alarmed, and he made +Clementina tell him about the dance, which he had been called from to +Mrs. Lander's bed of pain. He joked her for not having missed him; in +the midst of their fun, she caught herself in the act of yawning, and the +doctor laughed, and went away. + +Maddalena had to call her, just before dinner, when Mrs. Lander had been +awake long enough to have sent for the doctor to explain the sort of gone +feeling which she was now the victim of. It proved, when he came, to be +hunger, and he prescribed tea and toast and a small bit of steak. Before +he came she had wished to arrange for going home at once, and dying in +her own country. But his opinion so far prevailed with her that she +consented not to telegraph for berths. "I presume," she said, "it'll do, +any time before the icebugs begin to run. But I d' know, afta this, +Clementina, as I can let you leave me quite as you be'n doin'. There was +a lot of flowas come for you, this aftanoon, but I made Maddalena put 'em +on the balcony, for I don't want you should get poisoned with 'em in your +sleep; I always head they was dangerous in a person's 'bed room. I d' +know as they are, eitha." + +Maddalena seemed to know that Mrs. Lander was speaking of the flowers. +She got them and gave them to Clementina, who found they were from some +of the men she had danced with. Mr. Hinkle had sent a vast bunch of +violets, which presently began to give out their sweetness in the warmth +of the room, and the odor brought him before her with his yellow hair, +scrupulously parted at the side, and smoothly brushed, showing his +forehead very high up. Most of the gentlemen wore their hair parted in +the middle, or falling in a fringe over their brows; the Russian's was +too curly to part, and Lord Lioncourt had none except at the sides. + +She laughed, and Mrs. Lander said, "Tell about it, Clementina," and she +began with Mr. Hinkle, and kept coming back to him from the others. Mrs. +Lander wished most to know how that lord had got down to Florence; and +Clementina said he was coming to see her. + +"Well, I hope to goodness he won't come to-day, I a'n't fit to see +anybody." + +"Oh, I guess he won't come till to-morrow," said Clementina; she repeated +some of the compliments she had got, and she told of all Miss Milray's +kindness to her, but Mrs. Lander said, "Well, the next time, I'll thank +her not to keep you so late." She was astonished to hear that Mr. Ewins +was there, and "Any of the nasty things out of the hotel the'e?" she +asked. + +"Yes," Clementina said, "the'e we'e, and some of them we'e very nice. +They wanted to know if I wouldn't join them, and have an aftanoon of our +own here in the hotel, so that people could come to us all at once." + +She went back to the party, and described the rest of it. When she came +to the part about the Russian, she told what he had said of American +girls being fond of money, and wanting to marry foreign noblemen. + +Mrs. Lander said, "Well, I hope you a'n't a going to get married in a +hurry, anyway, and when you do I hope you'll pick out a nice American." + +"Oh, yes," said Clementina. + +Mrs. Lander had their dinner brought to their apartment. She cheered up, +and she was in some danger of eating too much, but with Clementina's help +she denied herself. Their short evening was one of the gayest; +Clementina declared she was not the least sleepy, but she went to bed at +nine, and slept till nine the next day. + +Mrs. Lander, the doctor confessed, the second morning, was more shaken up +by, her little attack than he had expected; but she decided to see the +gentleman who had asked to call on Clementina. Lord Lioncourt did not +come quite so soon as she was afraid he might, and when he came he talked +mostly to Clementina. He did not get to Mrs. Lander until just before he +was going. She hospitably asked him what his hurry was, and then he said +that he was off for Rome, that evening at seven. He was nice about +hoping she was comfortable in the hotel, and he sympathized with her in +her wish that there was a set-bowl in her room; she told him that she +always tried to have one, and he agreed that it must be very convenient +where any one was, as she said, sick so much. + +Mr. Hinkle came a day later; and then it appeared that he had a mother +whose complaints almost exactly matched Mrs. Lander's. He had her +photograph with him, and showed it; he said if you had no wife to carry +round a photograph of, you had better carry your mother's; and Mrs. +Lander praised him for being a good son. A good son, she added, always +made a good husband; and he said that was just what he told the young +ladies himself, but it did not seem to make much impression on them. +He kept Clementina laughing; and he pretended that he was going to bring +a diagram of his patent right for her to see, because she would be +interested in a gleaner like that; and he said he wished her father could +see it, for it would be sure to interest the kind of man Mrs. Lander +described him to be. "I'll be along up there just about the time you get +home, Miss Clementina. Then did you say it would be?" + +"I don't know; pretty ea'ly in the spring, I guess." + +She looked at Mrs. Lander, who said, "Well, it depends upon how I git up +my health. I couldn't bea' the voyage now." + +Mr. Hinkle said, "No, best look out for your health, if it takes all +summer. I shouldn't want you to hurry on my account. Your time is my +time. All I want is for Miss Clementina, here, to personally conduct me +to her father. If I could get him to take hold of my gleaner in New +England, we could make the blueberry crop worth twice what it is." + +Mrs. Lander perceived that he was joking; and she asked what he wanted to +run away for when the young Russian's card came up. He said, "Oh, give +every man a chance," and he promised that he would look in every few +days, and see how she was getting along. He opened the door after he had +gone out, and put his head in to say in confidence to Mrs. Lander, but so +loud that Clementina could hear, "I suppose she's told you who the belle +of the ball was, the other night? Went out to supper with a lord!" +He seemed to think a lord was such a good joke that if you mentioned one +you had to laugh. + +The Russian's card bore the name Baron Belsky, with the baron crossed out +in pencil, and he began to attack in Mrs. Lander the demerits of the +American character, as he had divined them. He instructed her that her +countrymen existed chiefly to make money; that they were more shopkeepers +than the English and worse snobs; that their women were trivial and their +men sordid; that their ambition was to unite their families with the +European aristocracies; and their doctrine of liberty and equality was a +shameless hypocrisy. This followed hard upon her asking, as she did very +promptly, why he had scratched out the title on his card. He told her +that he wished to be known solely as an artist, and he had to explain to +her that he was not a painter, but was going to be a novelist. She taxed +him with never having been in America, but he contended that as all +America came to Europe he had the materials for a study of the national +character at hand, without the trouble of crossing the ocean. In return +she told him that she had not been the least sea-sick during the voyage, +and that it was no trouble at all; then he abruptly left her and went +over to beg a cup of tea from Clementina, who sat behind the kettle by +the window. + +"I have heard this morning from that American I met in Pompeii" he began. +"He is coming northward, and I am going down to meet him in Rome." + +Mrs. Lander caught the word, and called across the room, "Why, a'n't that +whe'e that lo'd's gone?" + +Clementina said yes, and while the kettle boiled, she asked if Baron +Belsky were going soon. + +"Oh, in a week or ten days, perhaps. I shall know when he arrives. Then +I shall go. We write to each other every day." He drew a letter from +his breast pocket. "This will give you the idea of his character," and +he read, "If we believe that the hand of God directs all our actions, how +can we set up our theories of conduct against what we feel to be his +inspiration?" + +"What do you think of that?" he demanded. + +"I don't believe that God directs our wrong actions," said Clementina. + +"How! Is there anything outside of God? + +"I don't know whether there is or not. But there is something that +tempts me to do wrong, sometimes, and I don't believe that is God." + +The Russian seemed struck. "I will write that to him!" + +"No," said Clementina, "I don't want you to say anything about me to +him." + +"No, no!" said Baron Belsky, waving his band reassuringly. "I would not +mention your name!" + +Mr. Ewins came in, and the Russian said he must go. Mrs. Lander tried to +detain him, too, as she had tried to keep Mr. Hinkle, but be was +inexorable. Mr. Ewins looked at the door when it had closed upon him. +Mrs. Lander said, "That is one of the gentlemen that Clementina met the +otha night at the dance. He is a baron, but he scratches it out. You'd +ought to head him go on about Americans." + +"Yes," said Mr. Ewins coldly. "He's at our hotel, and he airs his +peculiar opinions at the table d'hote pretty freely. He's a +revolutionist of some kind, I fancy." He pronounced the epithet with an +abhorrence befitting the citizen of a state born of revolution and a city +that had cradled the revolt. "He's a Nihilist, I believe." + +Mrs. Lander wished to know what that was, and he explained that it was a +Russian who wanted to overthrow the Czar, and set up a government of the +people, when they were not prepared for liberty. + +"Then, maybe he isn't a baron at all," said Mrs. Lander. + +"Oh, I believe he has a right to his title," Ewins answered. "It's a +German one." + +He said he thought that sort of man was all the more mischievous on +account of his sincerity. He instanced a Russian whom a friend of his +knew in Berlin, a man of rank like this fellow: he got to brooding upon +the condition of working people and that kind of thing, till he renounced +his title and fortune and went to work in an iron foundry. + +Mr. Ewins also spoke critically of Mrs. Milray. He had met her in Egypt; +but you soon exhausted the interest of that kind of woman. He professed +a great concern that Clementina should see Florence in just the right +way, and he offered his services in showing her the place. + +The Russian came the next day, and almost daily after that, in the +interest with which Clementina's novel difference from other American +girls seemed to inspire him. His imagination had transmuted her simple +Yankee facts into something appreciable to a Slav of his temperament. +He conceived of her as the daughter of a peasant, whose beauty had +charmed the widow of a rich citizen, and who was to inherit the wealth of +her adoptive mother. He imagined that the adoption had taken place at a +much earlier period than the time when Clementina's visit to Mrs. Lander +actually began, and that all which could he done had been done to efface +her real character by indulgence and luxury. + +His curiosity concerning her childhood, her home, her father and mother, +her brothers and sisters, and his misunderstanding of everything she told +him, amused her. But she liked him, and she tried to give him some +notion of the things he wished so much to know. It always ended in a +dissatisfaction, more or less vehement, with the outcome of American +conditions as he conceived them. + +"But you," he urged one day, "you who are a daughter of the fields and +woods, why should you forsake that pure life, and come to waste yourself +here?" + +"Why, don't you think it's very nice in Florence?" she asked, with eyes +of innocent interest. + +"Nice! Nice! Do we live for what is nice? Is it enough that you have +what you Americans call a nice time?" + +Clementina reflected. "I wasn't doing much of anything at home, and I +thought I might as well come with Mrs. Lander, if she wanted me so much." +She thought in a certain way, that he was meddling with what was not his +affair, but she believed that he was sincere in his zeal for the ideal +life he wished her to lead, and there were some things she had heard +about him that made her pity and respect him; his self-exile and his +renunciation of home and country for his principles, whatever they were; +she did not understand exactly. She would not have liked never being +able to go back to Middlemount, or to be cut off from all her friends as +this poor young Nihilist was, and she said, now, "I didn't expect that it +was going to be anything but a visit, and I always supposed we should go +back in the spring; but now Mrs. Lander is beginning to think she won't +be well enough till fall." + +"And why need you stay with her?" + +"Because she's not very well," answered Clementina, and she smiled, a +little triumphantly as well as tolerantly. + +"She could hire nurses and doctors, all she wants with her money." + +"I don't believe it would be the same thing, exactly, and what should I +do if I went back?" + +"Do? Teach ! Uplift the lives about you." + +"But you say it is better for people to live simply, and not read and +think so much." + +"Then labor in the fields with them." + +Clementina laughed outright. "I guess if anyone saw me wo'king in the +fields they would think I was a disgrace to the neighbahood." + +Belsky gave her a stupified glare through his spectacles. "I cannot +undertand you Americans." + +"Well, you must come ova to America, then, Mr. Belsky"--he had asked her +not to call him by his title--"and then you would." + +"No, I could not endure the disappointment. You have the great +opportunity of the earth. You could be equal and just, and simple and +kind. There is nothing to hinder you. But all you try to do is to get +more and more money." + +"Now, that isn't faia, Mr. Belsky, and you know it." + +Well, then, you joke, joke--always joke. Like that Mr. Hinkle. He wants +to make money with his patent of a gleaner, that will take the last grain +of wheat from the poor, and he wants to joke--joke!' + +Clementina said, "I won't let you say that about Mr. Hinkle. You don't +know him, or you wouldn't. If he jokes, why shouldn't he?" + +Belsky made a gesture of rejection. "Oh, you are an American, too." + +She had not grown less American, certainly, since she had left home; even +the little conformities to Europe that she practiced were traits of +Americanism. Clementina was not becoming sophisticated, but perhaps she +was becoming more conventionalized. The knowledge of good and evil in +things that had all seemed indifferently good to her once, had crept upon +her, and she distinguished in her actions. She sinned as little as any +young lady in Florence against the superstitions of society; but though +she would not now have done a skirt-dance before a shipful of people, she +did not afflict herself about her past errors. She put on the world, but +she wore it simply and in most matters unconsciously. Some things were +imparted to her without her asking or wishing, and merely in virtue of +her youth and impressionability. She took them from her environment +without knowing it, and in this way she was coming by an English manner +and an English tone; she was only the less American for being rather +English without trying, when other Americans tried so hard. In the +region of harsh nasals, Clementina had never spoken through her nose, and +she was now as unaffected in these alien inflections as in the tender +cooings which used to rouse the misgivings of her brother Jim. When she +was with English people she employed them involuntarily, and when she was +with Americans she measurably lost them, so that after half an hour with +Mr. Hinkle, she had scarcely a trace of them, and with Mrs. Lander she +always spoke with her native accent. + + + + +XXIII + +One Sunday night, toward the end of Lent, Mrs. Lander had another of her +attacks; she now began to call them so as if she had established an +ownership in them. It came on from her cumulative over-eating, again, +but the doctor was not so smiling as he had been with regard to the +first. Clementina had got ready to drive out to Miss Milray's for one of +her Sunday teas, but she put off her things, and prepared to spend the +night at Mrs. Lander's bedside. "Well, I should think you would want +to," said the sufferer. "I'm goin' to do everything for you, and you'd +ought to be willing to give up one of youa junketin's for me. I'm sure I +don't know what you see in 'em, anyway." + +"Oh, I am willing, Mrs. Lander; I'm glad I hadn't stahted before it +began." Clementina busied herself with the pillows under Mrs. Lander's +dishevelled head, and the bedclothes disordered by her throes, while Mrs. +Lander went on. + +"I don't see what's the use of so much gaddin', anyway. I don't see as +anything comes of it, but just to get a passal of wo'thless fellas afta +you that think you'a going to have money. There's such a thing as two +sides to everything, and if the favas is goin' to be all on one side I +guess there'd betta be a clear undastandin' about it. I think I got a +right to a little attention, as well as them that ha'n't done anything; +and if I'm goin' to be left alone he'e to die among strangers every time +one of my attacks comes on"-- + +The doctor interposed, "I don't think you're going to have a very bad +attack, this time, Mrs. Lander." + +"Oh, thank you, thank you, docta! But you can undastand, can't you, how +I shall want to have somebody around that can undastand a little +English?" + +The doctor said, "Oh yes. And Miss Claxon and I can understand a good +deal, between us, and we're going to stay, and see how a little morphine +behaves with you." + +Mrs. Lander protested, "Oh, I can't bea' mo'phine, docta." + +"Did you ever try it?" he asked, preparing his little instrument to +imbibe the solution. + +"No; but Mr. Landa did, and it 'most killed him; it made him sick." + +"Well, you're about as sick as you can be, now, Mrs. Lander, and if you +don't die of this pin-prick " --he pushed the needle-point under the skin +of her massive fore-arm--" I guess you'll live through it." + +She shrieked, but as the pain began to abate, she gathered courage, and +broke forth joyfully. "Why, it's beautiful, a'n't it? I declare it +wo'ks like a cha'm. Well, I shall always keep mo'phine around after +this, and when, I feel one of these attacks comin' on"-- + +"Send for a physician, Mrs. Lander," said Dr. Welwright, "and he'll know +what to do." + +"I an't so sure of that," returned Mrs. Lander fondly. "He would if you +was the one. I declare I believe I could get up and walk right off, I +feel so well." + +"That's good. If you'll take a walk day after tomorrow it will help you +a great deal more." + +"Well, I shall always say that you've saved my life, this time, doctor; +and Clementina she's stood by, nobly; I'll say that for her." She +twisted her big head round on the pillow to get sight of the girl. "I'm +all right, now; and don't you mind what I said. It's just my misery +talkin'; I don't know what I did say; I felt so bad. But I'm fustrate, +now, and I believe I could drop off to sleep, this minute. Why don't you +go to your tea? You can, just as well as not!" + +"Oh, I don't want to go, now, Mrs. Lander; I'd ratha stay." + +"But there a'n't any more danger now, is the'e, docta?" Mrs. Lander +appealed. + +"No. There wasn't any danger before. But when you're quite yourself, +I want to have a little talk with you, Mrs. Lander, about your diet. We +must look after that." + +"Why, docta, that's what I do do, now. I eat all the healthy things I +lay my hands on, don't I, Clementina? And ha'n't you always at me about +it?" + +Clementina did not answer, and the doctor laughed. Well, I should like +to know what more I could do!" + +"Perhaps you could do less. We'll see about that. Better go to sleep, +now, if you feel like it." + +"Well, I will, if you'll make this silly child go to her tea. I s'pose +she won't because I scolded her. She's an awful hand to lay anything up +against you. You know you ah', Clementina! But I can say this, doctor: +a betta child don't breathe, and I just couldn't live without her. Come +he'e, Clementina, I want to kiss you once, before I go to sleep, so's to +make su'a you don't bea' malice." She pulled Clementina down to kiss +her, and babbled on affectionately and optimistically, till her talk +became the voice of her dreams, and then ceased altogether. + +"You could go, perfectly well, Miss Claxon," said the doctor. + +"No, I don't ca'e to go," answered Clementina. I'd ratha stay. If she +should wake"-- + +"She won't wake, until long after you've got back; I'll answer for that. +I'm going to stay here awhile. Go! I'll take the responsibility." + +Clementina's face brightened. She wanted very much to go. She should +meet some pleasant people; she always did, at Miss Milray's. Then the +light died out of her gay eyes, and she set her lips. "No, I told her I +shouldn't go." + +"I didn't hear you," said Dr. Welwright. "A doctor has no eyes and ears +except for the symptoms of his patients." + +"Oh, I know," said Clementina. She had liked Dr. Welwright from the +first, and she thought it was very nice of him to stay on, after he left +Mrs. Lander's bedside, and help to make her lonesome evening pass +pleasantly in the parlor. He jumped up finally, and looked at his watch. +"Bless my soul!" he said, and he went in for another look at Mrs. +Lander. When he came back, he said, "She's all right. But you've made +me break an engagement, Miss Claxon. I was going to tea at Miss +Milray's. She promised me I should meet you there." + +It seemed a great joke; and Clementina offered to carry his excuses to +Miss Milray, when she went to make her own. + +She, went the next morning. Mrs. Lander insisted that she should go; she +said that she was not going to have Miss Milray thinking that she wanted +to keep her all to herself. + +Miss Milray kissed the girl in full forgiveness, but she asked, "Did Dr. +Welwright think it a very bad attack?" + +"Has he been he'a?" returned Clementina. + +Miss Milray laughed. "Doctors don't betray their patients--good doctors. +No, he hasn't been here, if that will help you. I wish it would help me, +but it won't, quite. I don't like to think of that old woman using you +up, Clementina." + +"Oh, she doesn't, Miss Milray. You mustn't think so. You don't know how +good she is to me." + +"Does she ever remind you of it?" + +Clementina's eyes fell. "She isn't like herself when she doesn't feel +well." + +"I knew it!" Miss Milray triumphed. "I always knew that she was a +dreadful old tabby. I wish you were safely out of her clutches. Come +and live with me, my dear, when Mrs. Lander gets tired of you. But +she'll never get tired of you. You're just the kind of helpless mouse +that such an old tabby would make her natural prey. But she sha'n't, +even if another sort of cat has to get you! I'm sorry you couldn't come +last night. Your little Russian was here, and went away early and very +bitterly because you didn't come. He seemed to think there was nobody, +and said so, in everything but words." + +"Oh!" said Clementina. "Don't you think he's very nice, Miss Milray?" + +"He's very mystical, or else so very simple that he seems so. I hope you +can make him out." + +Don't you think he's very much in ea'nest? + +"Oh, as the grave, or the asylum. I shouldn't like him to be in earnest +about me, if I were you." + +"But that's just what he is! " Clementina told how the Russian had +lectured her, and wished her to go back to the country and work in the +fields. + +"Oh, if that's all!" cried Miss Milray. I was afraid it was another kind +of earnestness: the kind I shouldn't like if I were you." + +"There's no danger of that, I guess." Clementina laughed, and Miss +Milray went on: + +"Another of your admirers was here; but be was not so inconsolable, or +else be found consolation in staying on and talking about you, or +joking." + +"Oh, yes; Mr. Hinkle," cried Clementina with the smile that the thought +of him always brought. He's lovely." + +"Lovely? Well, I don't know why it isn't the word. It suits him a great +deal better than some insipid girls that people give it to. Yes, I could +really fall in love with Mr. Hinkle. He's the only man I ever saw who +would know how to break the fall!" + +It was lunch-time before their talk had begun to run low, and it swelled +again over the meal. Miss Milray returned to Mrs. Lander, and she made +Clementina confess that she was a little trying sometimes. But she +insisted that she was always good, and in remorse she went away as soon +as Miss Milray rose from table. + +She found Mrs. Lander very much better, and willing to have had her stay +the whole afternoon with Miss Milray. "I don't want she should have +anything to say against me, to you, Clementina; she'd be glad enough to. +But I guess it's just as well you'a back. That scratched-out baron has +been he'e twice, and he's waitin' for you in the pahla', now. I presume +he'll keep comin' till you do see him. I guess you betta have it ova; +whatever it is." + +"I guess you're right, Mrs. Lander." + +Clementina found the Russian walking up and down the room, and as soon as +their greeting was over, he asked leave to continue his promenade, but he +stopped abruptly before her when she had sunk upon a sofa. + +"I have come to tell you a strange story," he said. + +"It is the story of that American friend of mine. I tell it to you +because I think you can understand, and will know what to advise, what to +do." + +He turned upon his heel, and walked the length of the room and back +before he spoke again. + +"Since several years," he said, growing a little less idiomatic in his +English as his excitement mounted, "he met a young girl, a child, when he +was still not a man's full age. It was in the country, in the mountains +of America, and--he loved her. Both were very poor; he, a student, +earning the means to complete his education in the university. He had +dedicated himself to his church, and with the temperament of the +Puritans, he forbade himself all thoughts of love. But he was of a +passionate and impulsive nature, and in a moment of abandon he confessed +his love. The child was bewildered, frightened; she shrank from his +avowal, and he, filled with remorse for his self-betrayal, bade her let +it be as if it had not been; he bade her think of him no more." + +Clementina sat as if powerless to move, staring at Belsky. He paused in +his walk, and allowed an impressive silence to ensue upon his words. + +"Time passed: days, months, years; and he did not see her again. He +pursued his studies in the university; at their completion, he entered +upon the course of divinity, and he is soon to be a minister of his +church. In all that time the image of the young girl has remained in his +heart, and has held him true to the only love he has ever known. He will +know no other while he lives." + +Again he stopped in front of Clementina; she looked helplessly up at him, +and he resumed his walk. + +"He, with his dreams of renunciation, of abnegation, had thought some day +to return to her and ask her to be his. He believed her capable of equal +sacrifice with himself, and he hoped to win her not for himself alone, +but for the religion which he put before himself. He would have invited +her to join her fate with his that they might go together on some mission +to the pagan--in the South Seas, in the heart of Africa, in the jungle of +India. He had always thought of her as gay but good, unworldly in soul, +and exalted in spirit. She has remained with him a vision of angelic +loveliness, as he had seen her last in the moonlight, on the banks of a +mountain torrent. But he believes that he has disgraced himself before +her; that the very scruple for her youth, her ignorance, which made him +entreat her to forget him, must have made her doubt and despise him. He +has never had the courage to write to her one word since all those years, +but he maintains himself bound to her forever." He stopped short before +Clementina and seized her hands. "If you knew such a girl, what would +you have her do? Should she bid him hope again? Would you have her say +to him that she, too, had been faithful to their dream, and that she +too"-- + +"Let me go, Mr. Belsky, let me go, I say!" Clementina wrenched her hands +from him, and ran out of the room. Belsky hesitated, then he found his +hat, and after a glance at his face in the mirror, left the house. + + + + +XXIV. + +The tide of travel began to set northward in April. Many English, many +Americans appeared in Florence from Naples and Rome; many who had +wintered in Florence went on to Venice and the towns of northern Italy, +on their way to Switzerland and France and Germany. + +The spring was cold and rainy, and the irresolute Italian railroads were +interrupted by the floods. A tawny deluge rolled down from the mountains +through the bed of the Arno, and kept the Florentine fire-department on +the alert night and day. "It is a curious thing about this country," +said Mr. Hinkle, encountering Baron Belsky on the Ponte Trinita, "that +the only thing they ever have here for a fire company to put out is a +freshet. If they had a real conflagration once, I reckon they would want +to bring their life-preservers." + +The Russian was looking down over the parapet at the boiling river. He +lifted his head as if he had not heard the American, and stared at him a +moment before he spoke. It is said that the railway to Rome is broken at +Grossetto." + +"Well, I'm not going to Rome," said Hinkle, easily. "Are you?" + +"I was to meet a friend there; but he wrote to me that be was starting to +Florence, and now"-- + +"He's resting on the way? Well, he'll get here about as quick as he +would in the ordinary course of travel. One good thing about Italy is, +you don't want to hurry; if you did, you'd get left." + +Belsky stared at him in the stupefaction to which the American humor +commonly reduced him. "If he gets left on the Grossetto line, he can go +back and come up by Orvieto, no?" + +"He can, if he isn't in a hurry," Hinkle assented. + +"It's a good way, if you've got time to burn." + +Belsky did not attempt to explore the American's meaning. "Do you know," +he asked, "whether Mrs. Lander and her young friend are still in +Florence? + +"I guess they are." + +"It was said they were going to Venice for the summer." + +"That's what the doctor advised for the old lady. But they don't start +for a week or two yet." + +"Oh!" + +"Are you going to Miss Milray's, Sunday night? Last of the season, I +believe." + +Belsky seemed to recall himself from a distance. + +"No--no," he said, and he moved away, forgetful of the ceremonious +salutation which he commonly used at meeting and parting. Hinkle looked +after him with the impression people have of a difference in the +appearance and behavior of some one whose appearance and behavior do not +particularly concern them. + +The day that followed, Belsky haunted the hotel where Gregory was to +arrive with his pupil, and where the pupil's family were waiting for +them. That night, long after their belated train was due, they came; the +pupil was with his father and mother, and Gregory was alone, when Belsky +asked for him, the fourth or fifth time. + +"You are not well," he said, as they shook bands. You are fevered!" + +"I'm tired," said Gregory. "We've bad a bad time getting through." + +"I come inconveniently! You have not dined, perhaps?" + +"Yes, Yes. I've had dinner. Sit down. How have you been yourself?" + +"Oh, always well." Belsky sat down, and the friends stared at each +other. "I have strange news for you." + +"For me?" + +"You. She is here." + +"She?" + +Yes. The young girl of whom you told me. If I had not forbidden myself +by my loyalty to you--if I had not said to myself every moment in her +presence, 'No, it is for your friend alone that she is beautiful and +good!'--But you will have nothing to reproach me in that regard." + +"What do you mean?" demanded Gregory. + +"I mean that Miss Claxon is in Florence, with her protectress, the rich +Mrs. Lander. The most admired young lady in society, going everywhere, +and everywhere courted and welcomed; the favorite of the fashionable Miss +Milray. But why should this surprise you?" + +"You said nothing about it in your letters. You"-- + +"I was not sure it was she; you never told me her name. When I had +divined the fact, I was so soon to see you, that I thought best to keep +it till we met." + +Gregory tried to speak, but he let Belsky go on. + +"If you think that the world has spoiled her, that she will be different +from what she was in her home among your mountains, let me reassure you. +In her you will find the miracle of a woman whom no flattery can turn the +head. I have watched her in your interest; I have tested her. She is +what you saw her last." + +"Surely," asked Gregory, in an anguish for what he now dreaded, "you +haven't spoken to her of me?" + +"Not by name, no. I could not have that indiscretion"-- + +"The name is nothing. Have you said that you knew me-- Of course not! +But have you hinted at any knowledge-- Because"-- + +"You will hear!" said Belsky; and he poured out upon Gregory the story of +what he had done. "She did not deny anything. She was greatly moved, +but she did not refuse to let me bid you hope"-- + +"Oh!" Gregory took his head between his hands. "You have spoiled my +life!" + +"Spoiled" Belsky stopped aghast. + +"I told you my story in a moment of despicable weakness--of impulsive +folly. But how could I dream that you would ever meet her? How could I +imagine that you would speak to her as you have done?" He groaned, and +began to creep giddily about the room in his misery. "Oh, oh, oh! +What shall I do?" + +"But I do not understand!" Belsky began. "If I have committed an error"-- + +"Oh, an error that never could be put right in all eternity!" + +"Then let me go to her--let me tell her"-- + +"Keep away from her!" shouted Gregory. "Do you hear? Never go near her +again!" + +"Gregory!" + +"Ah, I beg your pardon! I don't know what I'm doing-saying. What will +she think--what will she think of me!" He had ceased to speak to Belsky; +he collapsed into a chair, and hid his face in his arms stretched out on +the table before him. + +Belsky watched him in the stupefaction which the artistic nature feels +when life proves sentient under its hand, and not the mere material of +situations and effects. He could not conceive the full measure of the +disaster he had wrought, the outrage of his own behavior had been lost to +him in his preoccupation with the romantic end to be accomplished. He +had meant to be the friend, the prophet, to these American lovers, whom +he was reconciling and interpreting to each other; but in some point he +must have misunderstood. Yet the error was not inexpiable; and in his +expiation he could put the seal to his devotion. He left the room, where +Gregory made no effort to keep him. + +He walked down the street from the hotel to the Arno, and in a few +moments he stood on the bridge, where he had talked with that joker in +the morning, as they looked down together on the boiling river. He had a +strange wish that the joker might have been with him again, to learn that +there were some things which could not be joked away. + +The night was blustering, and the wind that blew the ragged clouds across +the face of the moon, swooped in sudden gusts upon the bridge, and the +deluge rolling under it and hoarsely washing against its piers. Belsky +leaned over the parapet and looked down into the eddies and currents as +the fitful light revealed them. He had a fantastic pleasure in studying +them, and choosing the moment when he should leap the parapet and be lost +in them. The incident could not be used in any novel of his, and no one +else could do such perfect justice to the situation, but perhaps +afterwards, when the facts leading to his death should be known through +the remorse of the lovers whom he had sought to serve, some other artist- +nature could distil their subtlest meaning in a memoir delicate as the +aroma of a faded flower. + +He was willing to make this sacrifice, too, and he stepped back a pace +from the parapet when the fitful blast caught his hat from his head, and +whirled it along the bridge. The whole current of his purpose changed, +and as if it had been impossible to drown himself in his bare head, he +set out in chase of his hat, which rolled and gamboled away, and escaped +from his clutch whenever he stooped for it, till a final whiff of wind +flung it up and tossed it over the bridge into the river, where he +helplessly watched it floating down the flood, till it was carried out of +sight. + + + + +XXV. + +Gregory did not sleep, and he did not find peace in the prayers he put up +for guidance. He tried to think of some one with whom he might take +counsel; but he knew no one in Florence except the parents of his pupil, +and they were impossible. He felt himself abandoned to the impulse which +he dreaded, in going to Clementina, and he went without hope, willing to +suffer whatever penalty she should visit upon him, after he had disavowed +Belsky's action, and claimed the responsibility for it. + +He was prepared for her refusal to see him; he had imagined her wounded +and pathetic; he had fancied her insulted and indignant; but she met him +eagerly and with a mystifying appeal in her welcome. He began at once, +without attempting to bridge the time since they had met with any +formalities. + +"I have come to speak to you about--that--Russian, about Baron Belsky"-- + +"Yes, yes!" she returned, anxiously. "Then you have hea'd" + +"He came to me last night, and--I want to say that I feel myself to blame +for what he has done." + +"You?" + +"Yes; I. I never spoke of you by name to him; I didn't dream of his ever +seeing you, or that he would dare to speak to you of what I told him. +But I believe he meant no wrong; and it was I who did the harm, whether I +authorized it or not." + +"Yes, yes!" she returned, with the effect of putting his words aside as +something of no moment. "Have they head anything more?" + +"How, anything more?" he returned, in a daze. + +"Then, don't you know? About his falling into the river? I know he +didn't drown himself." + +Gregory shook his head. "When--what makes them think"-- He stopped and +stared at her. + +"Why, they know that he went down to the Ponte Trinity last night; +somebody saw him going: And then that peasant found his hat with his name +in it in the drift-wood below the Cascine"-- + +"Yes," said Gregory, lifelessly. He let his arms drop forward, and his +helpless hands hang over his knees; his gaze fell from her face to the +floor. + +Neither spoke for a time that seemed long, and then it was Clementina who +spoke. "But it isn't true!" + +"Oh, yes, it is," said Gregory, as before. + +"Mr. Hinkle doesn't believe it is," she urged. + +"Mr. Hinkle?" + +"He's an American who's staying in Florence. He came this mo'ning to +tell me about it. Even if he's drowned Mr. Hinkle believes he didn't +mean to; he must have just fallen in." + +"What does it matter?" demanded Gregory, lifting his heavy eyes. +"Whether he meant it or not, I caused it. I drove him to it." + +"You drove him?" + +"Yes. He told me what he had said to you, and I--said that he had +spoiled my life--I don't know!" + +"Well, he had no right to do it; but I didn't blame you," Clementina +began, compassionately. + +"It's too late. It can't be helped now." Gregory turned from the mercy +that could no longer save him. He rose dizzily, and tried to get himself +away. + +"You mustn't go!" she interposed. "I don't believe you made him do it. +Mr. Hinkle will be back soon, and he will"-- + +"If he should bring word that it was true?" Gregory asked. + +"Well," said Clementina, "then we should have to bear it." + +A sense of something finer than the surface meaning of her words pierced +his morbid egotism. "I'm ashamed," he said. "Will you let me stay?" + +"Why, yes, you must," she said, and if there was any censure of him at +the bottom of her heart, she kept it there, and tried to talk him away +from his remorse, which was in his temperament, perhaps, rather than his +conscience; she made the time pass till there came a knock at the door, +and she opened it to Hinkle. + +"I didn't send up my name; I thought I wouldn't stand upon ceremony just +now," he said. + +"Oh, no!" she returned. "Mr. Hinkle, this is Mr. Gregory. Mr. Gregory +knew Mr. Belsky, and he thinks"-- + +She turned to Gregory for prompting, and he managed to say, "I don't +believe he was quite the sort of person to-- And yet he might--he was in +trouble"-- + +"Money trouble?" asked Hinkle. "They say these Russians have a perfect +genius for debt. I had a little inspiration, since I saw you, but there +doesn't seems to be anything in it, so far." He addressed himself to +Clementina, but he included Gregory in what he said. "It struck me that +he might have been running his board, and had used this drowning episode +as a blind. But I"ve been around to his hotel, and he's settled up, all +fair and square enough. The landlord tried to think of something he +hadn't paid, but he couldn't; and I never saw a man try harder, either." +Clementina smiled; she put her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing; +but Gregory frowned his distress in the untimely droning. + +"I don't give up my theory that it's a fake of some kind, though. He +could leave behind a good many creditors besides his landlord. The +authorities have sealed up his effects, and they've done everything but +call out the fire department; that's on duty looking after the freshet, +and it couldn't be spared. I'll go out now and slop round a little more +in the cause, "Hinkle looked down at his shoes and his drabbled trousers, +and wiped the perspiration from his face,"but I thought I'd drop in, and +tell you not to worry about it, Miss Clementina. I would stake anything +you pleased on Mr. Belsky's safety. Mr. Gregory, here, looks like he +would be willing to take odds," he suggested. + +Gregory commanded himself from his misery to say, "I wish I could +believe--I mean"-- + +"Of course, we don't want to think that the man's a fraud, any more than +that he's dead. Perhaps we might hit upon some middle course. At any +rate, it's worth trying." + +"May I--do you object to my joining you?" Gregory asked. + +"Why, come!" Hinkle hospitably assented. "Glad to have you. I'll be +back again, Miss Clementina!" + +Gregory was going away without any form of leavetaking; but he turned +back to ask, "Will you let me come back, too?" + +"Why, suttainly, Mr. Gregory," said Clementina, and she went to find Mrs. +Lander, whom she found in bed. + +"I thought I'd lay down," she explained. "I don't believe I'm goin' to +be sick, but it's one of my pooa days, and I might just as well be in bed +as not." Clementina agreed with her, and Mrs. Lander asked: "You hea'd +anything moa?" + +"No. Mr. Hinkle has just been he'a, but he hadn't any news." + +Mrs. Lander turned her face toward the wall. "Next thing, he'll be +drownin' himself. I neva wanted you should have anything to do with the +fellas that go to that woman's. There ain't any of 'em to be depended +on." + +It was the first time that her growing jealousy of Miss Milray had openly +declared itself; but Clementina had felt it before, without knowing how +to meet it. As an escape from it now she was almost willing to say, +"Mrs. Lander, I want to tell you that Mr. Gregory has just been he'a, +too." + +"Mr. Gregory?" + +"Yes. Don't you remember? At the Middlemount? The first summa? He was +the headwaita--that student." + +Mrs. Lander jerked her head round on the pillow. "Well, of all the--What +does he want, over he'a?" + +"Nothing. That is--he's travelling with a pupil that he's preparing for +college, and--he came to see us"-- + +"D'you tell him I couldn't see him?" + +"Yes" + +"I guess he'd think I was a pretty changed pusson! Now, I want you +should stay with me, Clementina, and if anybody else comes"-- + +Maddalena entered the room with a card which she gave to the girl. + +"Who is it?" Mrs. Lander demanded. + +"Miss Milray." + +"Of cou'se! Well, you may just send wo'd that you can't-- Or, no; you +must ! She'd have it all ova the place, by night, that I wouldn't let +you see her. But don't you make any excuse for me! If she asks after +me, don't you say I'm sick! You say I'm not at home." + +"I've come about that little wretch," Miss Milray began, after kissing +Clementina. "I didn't know but you had heard something I hadn't, or I +had heard something you hadn't. You know I belong to the Hinkle +persuasion: I think Belsky's run his board--as Mr. Hinkle calls it." + +Clementina explained how this part of the Hinkle theory had failed, and +then Miss Milray devolved upon the belief that he had run his tailor's +bill or his shoemaker's. "They are delightful, those Russians, but +they're born insolvent. I don't believe he's drowned himself. How," she +broke off to ask, in a burlesque whisper, "is-the-old-tabby?" She +laughed, for answer to her own question, and then with another sudden +diversion she demanded of a look in Clementina's face which would not be +laughed away, "Well, my dear, what is it?" + +"Miss Milray," said the girl, "should you think me very silly, if I told +you something--silly?" + +"Not in the least!" cried Miss Milray, joyously. "It's the final proof +of your wisdom that I've been waiting for?" + +"It's because Mr. Belsky is all mixed up in it," said Clementina, as if +some excuse were necessary, and then she told the story of her love +affair with Gregory. Miss Milray punctuated the several facts with vivid +nods, but at the end she did not ask her anything, and the girl somehow +felt the freer to add: "I believe I will tell you his name. It is Mr. +Gregory--Frank Gregory"-- + +"And he's been in Egypt?" + +"Yes, the whole winta." + +"Then he's the one that my sister-in-law has been writing me about!" + +"Oh, did he meet her the'a?" + +"I should think so ! And he'll meet her )were, very soon. She's coming, +with my poor brother. I meant to tell you, but this ridiculous Belsky +business drove it out of my head." + +"And do you think," Clementina entreated, "that he was to blame?" + +"Why, I don't believe he's done it, you know." + +"Oh, I didn't mean Mr. Belsky. I meant--Mr. Gregory. For telling Mr. +Belsky?" + +"Certainly not. Men always tell those things to some one, I suppose. +Nobody was to blame but Belsky, for his meddling." + +Miss Milray rose and shook out her plumes for flight, as if she were +rather eager for flight, but at the little sigh with which Clementina +said, "Yes, that is what I thought," she faltered. + +"I was going to run away, for I shouldn't like to mix myself up in your +affair--it's certainly a very strange one--unless I was sure I could help +you. But if you think I can"-- + +Clementina shook her head. "I don't believe you can," she said, with a +candor so wistful that Miss Milray stopped quite short. "How does Mr. +Gregory take this Belsky business?" she asked. + +"I guess he feels it moa than I do," said the girl. + +"He shows his feeling more?" + +"Yes--no-- He believes he drove him to it." + +Miss Milray took her hand, for parting, but did not kiss her. "I won't +advise you, my dear. In fact, yon haven't asked me to. You'll know what +to do, if you haven't done it already; girls usually have, when they want +advice. Was there something you were going to say?" + +"Oh, no. Nothing. Do you think," she hesitated, appealingly, "do you +think we are-engaged?" + +"If he's anything of a man at all, he must think he is." + +"Yes," said Clementina, wistfully, "I guess he does." + +Miss Milray looked sharply at her. "And does he think you are?" + +"I don't know--he didn't say." + +"Well," said Miss Milray, rather dryly, "then it's something for you to +think over pretty carefully." + + + + +XXVI. + +Hinkle came back in the afternoon to make a hopeful report of his failure +to learn anything more of Belsky, but Gregory did not come with him. He +came the next morning long before Clementina expected visitors, and he +was walking nervously up and down the room when she appeared. As if he +could not speak, he held toward her without speaking a telegram in +English, dated that day in Rome: + + "Deny report of my death. Have written. + "Belsky." + +She looked up at Gregory from the paper, when she had read it, with +joyful eyes. "Oh, I am so glad for you! I am so glad he is alive." + +He took the dispatch from her hand. "I brought it to you as soon as it +came: + +"Yes, yes! Of cou'se!" + +"I must go now and do what he says--I don't know how yet." He stopped, +and then went on from a different impulse. "Clementina, it isn't a +question now of that wretch's life and death, and I wish I need never +speak of him again. But what he told you was true." He looked +steadfastly at her, and she realized how handsome he was, and how well +dressed. His thick red hair seemed to have grown darker above his +forehead; his moustache was heavier, and it curved in at the corners of +his mouth; he bore himself with a sort of self-disdain that enhanced his +splendor. "I have never changed toward you; I don't say it to make favor +with you; I don't expect to do that now; but it is true. That night, +there at Middlemount, I tried to take back what I said, because I +believed that I ought." + +"Oh, yes, I knew that," said Clementina, in the pause he made. + +"We were both too young; I had no prospect in life; I saw, the instant +after I had spoken, that I had no right to let you promise anything. +I tried to forget you; I couldn't. I tried to make you forget me." +He faltered, and she did not speak, but her head drooped a little. +"I won't ask how far I succeeded. I always hoped that the time would +come when I could speak to you again. When I heard from Fane that you +were at Woodlake, I wished to come out and see you, but I hadn't the +courage, I hadn't the right. I've had to come to you without either, +now. Did he speak to you about me?" + +"I thought he was beginning to, once; but he neva did." + +"It didn't matter; it could only have made bad worse. It can't help me +to say that somehow I was wishing and trying to do what was right; but I +was." + +"Oh, I know that, Mr. Gregory," said Clementina, generously. + +"Then you didn't doubt me, in spite of all?" + +"I thought you would know what to do. No, I didn't doubt you, exactly." + +"I didn't deserve your trust!" he cried. "How came that man to mention +me?" he demanded, abruptly, after a moment's silence. + +"Mr. Belsky? It was the first night I saw him, and we were talking about +Americans, and he began to tell me about an American friend of his, who +was very conscientious. I thought it must be you the fust moment," said +Clementina, smiling with an impersonal pleasure in the fact. + +"From the conscientiousness?" he asked, in bitter self-irony. + +"Why, yes," she returned, simply. "That was what made me think of you. +And the last time when he began to talk about you, I couldn't stop him, +although I knew he had no right to." + +"He had no right. But I gave him the power to do it! He meant no harm, +but I enabled him to do all the harm." + +"Oh, if he's only alive, now, there is no harm!" + +He looked into her eyes with a misgiving from which be burst impetuously. +"Then you do care for me still, after all that I have done to make you +detest me?" He started toward her, but she shrank back. + +"I didn't mean that," she hesitated. + +"You know that I love you,--that I have always loved you?" + +"Yes," she assented. "But you might be sorry again that you had said +it." It sounded like coquetry, but he knew it was not coquetry. + +"Never! I've wished to say it again, ever since that night at +Middlemount; I have always felt bound by what I said then, though I took +back my words for your sake. But the promise was always there, and my +life was in it. You believe that?" + +"Why, I always believed what you said, Mr. Gregory." + +"Well?" + +Clementina paused, with her head seriously on one side. "I should want +to think about it before I said anything." + +"You are right," he submitted, dropping his outstretched arms to his +side. "I have been thinking only of myself, as usual." + +"No," she protested, compassionately. "But doesn't it seem as if we +ought to be su'a, this time? I did ca'e for you then, but I was very +young, and I don't know yet-- I thought I had always felt just; as you +did, but now-- Don't you think we had both betta wait a little while till +we ah' moa suttain?" + +They stood looking at each other, and he said, with a kind of passionate +self-denial, "Yes, think it over for me, too. I will come back, if you +will let me." + +"Oh, thank you!" she cried after him, gratefully, as if his forbearance +were the greatest favor. + +When he was gone she tried to release herself from the kind of abeyance +in which she seemed to have gone back and been as subject to him as in +the first days when he had awed her and charmed her with his superiority +at Middlemount, and he again older and freer as she had grown since. + +He came back late in the afternoon, looking jaded and distraught. +Hinkle, who looked neither, was with him. "Well," he began, "this is the +greatest thing in my experience. Belsky's not only alive and well, but +Mr. Gregory and I are both at large. I did think, one time, that the +police would take us into custody on account of our morbid interest in +the thing, and I don't believe we should have got off, if the Consul +hadn't gone bail for us, so to speak. I thought we had better take the +Consul in, on our way, and it was lucky we did." + +Clementina did not understand all the implications, but she was willing +to take Mr. Hinkle's fun on trust. "I don't believe you'll convince Mrs. +Landa that Mr. Belsky's alive and well, till you bring him back to say +so." + +"Is that so!" said Hinkle. "Well, we must have him brought back by the +authorities, then. Perhaps they'll bring him, anyway. They can't try +him for suicide, but as I understand the police, here, a man can't lose +his hat over a bridge in Florence with impunity, especially in a time of +high water. Anyway, they're identifying Belsky by due process of law in +Rome, now, and I guess Mr. Gregory"--he nodded toward Gregory, who sat +silent and absent "will be kept under surveillance till the whole mystery +is cleared up." + +Clementina responded gayly still, but with less and less sincerity, and +she let Hinkle go at last with the feeling that he knew she wished him to +go. He made a brave show of not seeing this, and when he was gone, she +remembered that she had not thanked him for the trouble he had taken on +her account, and her heart ached after him with a sense of his sweetness +and goodness, which she had felt from the first through his quaint +drolling. It was as if the door which closed upon him shut her out of +the life she had been living of late, and into the life of the past where +she was subject again to the spell of Gregory's mood; it was hardly his +will. + +He began at once: "I wished to make you say something this morning that I +have no right to hear you say, yet; and I have been trying ever since to +think how I could ask you whether you could share my life with me, and +yet not ask you to do it. But I can't do anything without knowing-- +You may not care for what my life is to be, at all!" + +Clementina's head drooped a little, but she answered distinctly, "I do +ca'e, Mr. Gregory." + +"Thank you for that much; I don't count upon more than you have said. +Clementina, I am going to be a missionary. I think I shall ask to be +sent to China; I've not decided yet. My life will be hard; it will be +full of danger and privation; it will be exile. You will have to think +of sharing such a life if you think"-- + +He stopped; the time had come for her to speak, and she said, "I knew you +wanted to be a missionary"-- + +"And--and--you would go with me? You would" --He started toward her, and +she did not shrink from him, now; but he checked himself. "But you +mustn't, you know, for my sake." + +"I don't believe I quite undastand," she faltered. + +"You must not do it for me, but for what makes me do it. Without that +our life, our work, could have no consecration." + +She gazed at him in patient, faintly smiling bewilderment, as if it were +something he would unriddle for her when he chose. + +"We mustn't err in this; it would be worse than error; it would be sin." +He took a turn about the room, and then stopped before her. "Will you-- +will you join me in a prayer for guidance, Clementina?" + +"I--I don't know," she hesitated. "I will, but--do you think I had +betta?" + +He began, "Why, surely"--After a moment he asked gravely, "You believe +that our actions will be guided aright, if we seek help?" + +"Oh, yes--yes"-- + +"And that if we do not, we shall stumble in our ignorance?" + +"I don't know. I never thought of that." + +"Never thought of it"-- + +"We never did it in our family. Father always said that if we really +wanted to do right we could find the way." Gregory looked daunted, and +then he frowned darkly. "Are you provoked with me? Do you think what +I have said is wrong?" + +"No, no! You must say what you believe. It would be double hypocrisy in +me if I prevented you." + +"But I would do it, if you wanted me to," she said. + +"Oh, for me, for ME!" he protested. "I will try to tell you what I mean, +and why you must not, for that very reason." But he had to speak of +himself, of the miracle of finding her again by the means which should +have lost her to him forever; and of the significance of this. Then it +appeared to him that he could not reject such a leading without error, +without sin. "Such a thing could not have merely happened." + +It seemed so to Clementina, too; she eagerly consented that this was +something they must think of, as well. But the light waned, the dark +thickened in the room before he left her to do so. Then he said +fervently, "We must not doubt that everything will come right," and his +words seemed an effect of inspiration to them both. + + + + +XXVII. + +After Gregory was gone a misgiving began in Clementina's mind, which grew +more distinct, through all the difficulties of accounting to Mrs. Lander +for his long stay, The girl could see that it was with an obscure +jealousy that she pushed her questions, and said at last, "That Mr. +Hinkle is about the best of the lot. He's the only one that's eva had +the mannas to ask after me, except that lo'd. He did." + +Clementina could not pretend that Gregory had asked, but she could not +blame him for a forgetfulness of Mrs. Lander which she had shared with +him. This helped somehow to deepen the misgiving which followed her from +Mrs. Lander's bed to her own, and haunted her far into the night. She +could escape from it only by promising herself to deal with it the first +thing in the morning. She did this in terms much briefer than she +thought she could have commanded. She supposed she would have to write a +very long letter, but she came to the end of all she need say, in a very +few lines. + + DEAR MR. GREGORY: + + "I have been thinking about what you said yesterday, and I have to + tell you something. Then you can do what is right for both of us; + you will know better than I can. But I want you to understand that + if I go with you in your missionary life, I shall do it for you, and + not for anything else. I would go anywhere and live anyhow for you, + but it would be for you; I do not believe that I am religious, and I + know that I should not do it for religion. + + "That is all; but I could not get any peace till I let you know just + how I felt. + + "CLEMENTINA CLAXON." + +The letter went early in the morning, though not so early but it was put +in Gregory's hand as he was leaving his hotel to go to Mrs. Lander's. He +tore it open, and read it on the way, and for the first moment it seemed +as if it were Providence leading him that he might lighten Clementina's +heart of its doubts with the least delay. He had reasoned that if she +would share for his sake the life that he should live for righteousness' +sake they would be equally blest in it, and it would be equally +consecrated in both. But this luminous conclusion faded in his thought +as he hurried on, and he found himself in her presence with something +like a hope that she would be inspired to help him. + +His soul lifted at the sound of the gay voice in which she asked, "Did +you get my letta?" and it seemed for the instant as if there could be no +trouble that their love could not overcome. + +"Yes," he said, and he put his arms around her, but with a provisionality +in his embrace which she subtly perceived. + +"And what did you think of it?" she asked. "Did you think I was silly?" + +He was aware that she had trusted him to do away her misgiving. "No, +no," he answered, guiltily. "Wiser than I am, always. I--I want to talk +with you about it, Clementina. I want you to advise me." + +He felt her shrink from him, and with a pang he opened his arms to free +her. But it was right; he must. She had been expecting him to say that +there was nothing in her misgiving, and he could not say it. + +"Clementina," he entreated, "why do you think you are not religious?" + +"Why, I have never belonged to chu'ch," she answered simply. He looked +so daunted, that she tried to soften the blow after she had dealt it. +"Of course, I always went to chu'ch, though father and motha didn't. +I went to the Episcopal--to Mr. Richling's. But I neva was confirmed." + +"But-you believe in God?" + +"Why, certainly!" + +"And in the Bible?" + +"Why, of cou'se!" + +"And that it is our duty to bear the truth to those who have never heard +of it?" + +"I know that is the way you feel about it; but I am not certain that I +should feel so myself if you didn't want me to. That's what I got to +thinking about last night." She added hopefully, "But perhaps it isn't +so great a thing as I"-- + +"It's a very great thing," he said, and from standing in front of her, he +now sat down beyond a little table before her sofa. "How can I ask you +to share my life if you don't share my faith?" + +"Why, I should try to believe everything that you do, of cou'se." + +"Because I do?" + +"Well-yes." + +"You wring my heart! Are you willing to study--to look into these +questions--to--to"-- It all seemed very hopeless, very absurd, but she +answered seriously: + +"Yes, but I believe it would all come back to just where it is, now." + +"What you say, Clementina, makes me so happy; but it ought to make me-- +miserable! And you would do all this, be all this for me, a wretched and +erring creature of the dust, and yet not do it for--God?" + +Clementina could only say, "Perhaps if He meant me to do it for Him, He +would have made me want to. He made you." + +"Yes," said Gregory, and for a long time he could not say any more. He +sat with his elbow on the table, and his head against his lifted hand. + +"You see," she began, gently, "I got to thinking that even if I eva came +to believe what you wanted me to, I should be doing it after all, because +you wanted me to"-- + +"Yes, yes," he answered, desolately. "There is no way out of it. If you +only hated me, Clementina, despised me--I don't mean that. But if you +were not so good, I could have a more hope for you--for myself. It's +because you are so good that I can't make myself wish to change you, and +yet I know--I am afraid that if you told me my life and objects were +wrong, I should turn from them, and be whatever you said. Do you tell me +that?" + +"No, indeed!" cried Clementina, with abhorrence. "Then I should despise +you." + +He seemed not to heed her. He moved his lips as if he were talking to +himself, and he pleaded, "What shall we do?" + +"We must try to think it out, and if we can't--if you can't let me give +up to you unless I do it for the same reason that you do; and if I can't +let you give up for me, and I know I could neva do that; then-- +we mustn't!" + +"Do you mean, we must part? Not see each other again?" + +"What use would it be?" + +"None," he owned. She had risen, and he stood up perforce. "May I--may +I come back to tell you?" + +"Tell me what?" she asked. + +"You are right! If I can't make it right, I won't come. But I won't say +good bye. I--can't." + +She let him go, and Maddalena came in at the door. "Signorina," she +said, "the signora is not well. Shall I send for the doctor?" + +"Yes, yes, Maddalena. Run!" cried Clementina, distractedly. She hurried +to Mrs. Lander's room, where she found her too sick for reproaches, for +anything but appeals for help and pity. The girl had not to wait for +Doctor Welwright's coming to understand that the attack was severer than +any before. + +It lasted through the day, and she could see that he was troubled. It +had not followed upon any imprudeuce, as Mrs. Lander pathetically called +Clementina to witness when her pain had been so far quelled that she +could talk of her seizure. + +He found her greatly weakened by it the next day, and he sat looking +thoughtfully at her before he said that she needed toning up. She caught +at the notion. "Yes, yes! That's what I need, docta! Toning up! +That's what I need." + +He suggested, " How would you like to try the sea air, and the baths--at +Venice?" + +"Oh, anything, anywhere, to get out of this dreadful hole! I ha'n't had +a well minute since I came. And Clementina," the sick woman whimpered, +"is so taken up all the time, he'a, that I can't get the right +attention." + +The doctor looked compassionately away from the girl, and said, " Well, +we must arrange about getting you off, then." + +"But I want you should go with me, doctor, and see me settled all right. +You can, can't you? I sha'n't ca'e how much it costs?" + +The doctor said gravely he thought he could manage it and he ignored the +long unconscious sigh of relief that Clementina drew. + +In all her confusing anxieties for Mrs. Lander, Gregory remained at the +bottom of her heart a dumb ache. When the pressure of her fears was +taken from her she began to suffer for him consciously; then a letter +came from him: + + "I cannot make it right. It is where it was, and I feel that I must + not see you again. I am trying to do right, but with the fear that + I am wrong. Send some word to help me before I go away to-morrow. + F. G." + +It was what she had expected, she knew now, but it was none the less to +be borne because of her expectation. She wrote back: + + "I believe you are doing the best you can, and I shall always + believe that. + +Her note brought back a long letter from him. He said that whatever he +did, or wherever he went, he should try to be true to her ideal of him. +If they renounced their love now for the sake of what seemed higher than +their love, they might suffer, but they could not choose but do as they +were doing. + +Clementina was trying to make what she could of this when Miss Milray's +name came up, and Miss Milray followed it. + +"I wanted to ask after Mrs. Lander, and I want you to tell her , I did. +Will you? Dr. Welwright says he's going to take her to Venice. Well, +I'm sorry--sorry for your going, Clementina, and I'm truly sorry for the +cause of it. I shall miss you, my dear, I shall indeed. You know I +always wanted to steal you, but you'll do me the justice to say I never +did, and I won't try, now." + +"Perhaps I wasn't worth stealing," Clementina suggested, with a +ruefulness in her smile that went to Miss Milray's heart. + +She put her arms round her and kissed her. I wasn't very kind to you, the +other day, Clementina, was I?" + +"I don't know," Clementina faltered, with half-averted face. + +"Yes, you do! I was trying to make-believe that I didn't want to meddle +with your affairs; but I was really vexed that you hadn't told me your +story before. It hasn't taken me all this time to reflect that you +couldn't, but it has to make myself come and confess that I had been dry +and cold with you." She hesitated. "It's come out all right, hasn't it, +Clementina?" she asked, tenderly. "You see I want to meddle, now." + +"We ah' trying to think so," sighed the girl. + +"Tell me about it!" Miss Milray pulled her down on the sofa with her, and +modified her embrace to a clasp of Clementina's bands. + +"Why, there isn't much to tell," she began, but she told what there was, +and Miss Milray kept her countenance concerning the scruple that had +parted Clementina and her lover. "Perhaps he wouldn't have thought of +it," she said, in a final self-reproach, if I hadn't put it into his +head." + +"Well, then, I'm not sorry you put it into his head," cried Miss Milray. +"Clementina, may I say what I think of Mr. Gregory's performance?" + +"Why, certainly, Miss Milray!" + +I think he's not merely a gloomy little bigot, but a very hard-hearted +little wretch, and I'm glad you're rid of him. No, stop! Let me go on! +You said I might! she persisted, at a protest which imparted itself from +Clementina's restive hands. "It was selfish and cruel of him to let you +believe that he had forgotten you. It doesn't make it right now, when an +accident has forced him to tell you that he cared for you all along." + +"Why, do you look at it that way, Miss Milray? If he was doing it on my +account?" + +"He may think he was doing it on your account, but I think he was doing +it on his own. In such a thing as that, a man is bound by his mistakes, +if he has made any. He can't go back of them by simply ignoring them. +It didn't make it the same for you when he decided for your sake that he +would act as if he had never spoken to you." + +"I presume he thought that it would come right, sometime," Clementina +urged. "I did." + +"Yes, that was very well for you, but it wasn't at all well for him. He +behaved cruelly; there's no other word for it." + +"I don't believe he meant to be cruel, Miss Milray," said Clementina. + +"You're not sorry you've broken with him?" demanded Miss Milray, +severely, and she let go of Clementina's hands. + +"I shouldn't want him to think I hadn't been fai'a." + +"I don't understand what you mean by not being fair," said Miss Milray, +after a study of the girl's eyes. + +"I mean," Clementina explained, "that if I let him think the religion was +all the'e was, it wouldn't have been fai'a." + +Why, weren't you sincere about that?" + +"Of cou'se I was!" returned the girl, almost indignantly. "But if the'e +was anything else, I ought to have told him that, too; and I couldn't." + +"Then you can't tell me, of course?" Miss Milray rose in a little pique. + +"Perhaps some day I will," the girl entreated. "And perhaps that was +all." + +Miss Milray laughed. "Well, if that was enough to end it, I'm satisfied, +and I'll let you keep your mystery--if it is one--till we meet in Venice; +I shall be there early in June. Good bye, dear, and say good bye to Mrs. +Lander for me." + + + + +XXVIII. + +Dr. Welwright got his patient a lodging on the Grand Canal in Venice, and +decided to stay long enough to note the first effect of the air and the +baths, and to look up a doctor to leave her with. + +This took something more than a week, which could not all be spent in +Mrs. Lander's company, much as she wished it. There were hours which he +gave to going about in a gondola with Clementina, whom he forbade to be +always at the invalid's side. He tried to reassure her as to Mrs. +Lander's health, when be found her rather mute and absent, while they +drifted in the silvery sun of the late April weather, just beginning to +be warm, but not warm enough yet for the tent of the open gondola. He +asked her about Mrs. Lander's family, and Clementina could only tell him +that she had always said she had none. She told him the story of her own +relation to her, and he said, "Yes, I heard something of that from Miss +Milray." After a moment of silence, during which he looked curiously +into the girl's eyes, "Do you think you can bear a little more care, Miss +Claxon?" + +"I think I can," said Clementina, not very courageously, but patiently. + +"It's only this, and I wouldn't tell you if I hadn't thought you equal to +it. Mrs. Lander's case puzzles me: But I shall leave Dr. Tradonico +watching it, and if it takes the turn that there's a chance it may take, +he will tell you, and you'd better find out about her friends, and--let +them know. That's all." + +"Yes," said Clementina, as if it were not quite enough. Perhaps she did +not fully realize all that the doctor had intended; life alone is +credible to the young; life and the expectation of it. + +The night before he was to return to Florence there was a full moon; and +when he had got Mrs. Lander to sleep he asked Clementina if she would not +go out on the lagoon with him. He assigned no peculiar virtue to the +moonlight, and he had no new charge to give her concerning his patient +when they were embarked. He seemed to wish her to talk about herself, +and when she strayed from the topic, he prompted her return. Then he +wished to know how she liked Florence, as compared with Venice, and all +the other cities she had seen, and when she said she had not seen any but +Boston and New York, and London for one night, he wished to know whether +she liked Florence as well. She said she liked it best of all, and he +told her he was very glad, for he liked it himself better than any place +he had ever seen. He spoke of his family in America, which was formed of +grownup brothers and sisters, so that he had none of the closest and +tenderest ties obliging him to return; there was no reason why he should +not spend all his days in Florence, except for some brief visits home. +It would be another thing with such a place as Venice; he could never +have the same settled feeling there: it was beautiful, but it was unreal; +it would be like spending one's life at the opera. Did not she think so? + +She thought so, oh, yes; she never could have the home-feeling at Venice +that she had at Florence. + +"Exactly; that's what I meant--a home-feeling; I'm glad you had it." He +let the gondola dip and slide forward almost a minute before he added, +with an effect of pulling a voice up out of his throat somewhere, "How +would you like to live there--with me--as my wife?" + +"Why, what do you mean, Dr. Welwright?" asked Clementina, with a vague +laugh. + +Dr. Welwright laughed, too; but not vaguely; there was a mounting +cheerfulness in his laugh. "What I say. I hope it isn't very +surprising." + +"No; but I never thought of such a thing." + +"Perhaps you will think of it now." + +"But you're not in ea'nest!" + +"I'm thoroughly in earnest," said the doctor, and he seemed very much +amused at her incredulity. + +"Then; I'm sorry," she answered. "I couldn't." + +"No?" he said, still with amusement, or with a courage that took that +form. "Why not?" + +"Because I am--not free." + +For an interval they were so silent that they could hear each other +breathe: Then, after be had quietly bidden the gondolier go back to their +hotel, he asked, "If you had been free you might have answered me +differently?" + +"I don't know," said Clementina, candidly. "I never thought of it." + +"It isn't because you disliked me?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then I must get what comfort I can out of that. I hope, with all my +heart, that you may be happy." + +"Why, Dr. Welwright!" said Clementina. "Don't you suppose that I should +be glad to do it, if I could? Any one would!" + +"It doesn't seem very probable, just now," he answered, humbly. +"But I'll believe it if you say so." + +"I do say so, and I always shall." + +"Thank you." + +Dr. Welwright professed himself ready for his departure, at breakfast +next morning and he must have made his preparations very late or very +early. He was explicit in his charges to Clementina concerning Mrs. +Lander, and at the end of them, he said, "She will not know when she is +asking too much of you, but you will, and you must act upon your +knowledge. And remember, if you are in need of help, of any kind, you're +to let me know. Will you?" + +"Yes, I will, Dr. Welwright." + +"People will be going away soon, and I shall not be so busy. I can come +back if Dr. Tradonico thinks it necessary." + +He left Mrs. Lander full of resolutions to look after her own welfare in +every way, and she went out in her gondola the same morning. She was not +only to take the air as much as possible, but she was to amuse herself, +and she decided that she would have her second breakfast at the Caffe +Florian. Venice was beginning to fill up with arrivals from the south, +and it need not have been so surprising to find Mr. Hinkle there over a +cup of coffee. He said he had just that moment been thinking of her, and +meaning to look her up at the hotel. He said that he had stopped at +Venice because it was such a splendid place to introduce his gleaner; he +invited Mrs. Lander to become a partner in the enterprise; he promised +her a return of fifty per cent. on her investment. If he could once +introduce his gleaner in Venice, he should be a made man. He asked Mrs. +Lander, with real feeling, how she was; as for Miss Clementina, he need +not ask. + +"Oh, indeed, the docta thinks she wants a little lookin' after, too," +said Mrs. Lander. + +"Well, about as much as you do, Mrs. Lander," Hinkle allowed, tolerantly. +"I don't know how it affects you, ma'am, such a meeting of friends in +these strange waters, but it's building me right up. It's made another +man of me, already, and I've got the other man's appetite, too. Mind my +letting him have his breakfast here with me at your table?" He bade the +waiter just fetch his plate. He attached himself to them; he spent the +day with them. Mrs. Lander asked him to dinner at her lodgings, and left +him to Clementina over the coffee. + +"She's looking fine, doesn't the doctor think? This air will do +everything for her." + +"Oh, yes; she's a great deal betta than she was befo'e we came." + +"That's right. Well, now, you've got me here, you must let me make +myself useful any way I can. I've got a spare month that I can put in +here in Venice, just as well as not; I sha'n't want to push north till +the frost's out of the ground. They wouldn't have a chance to try my +gleaner, on the other side of the Alps much before September, anyway. +Now, in Ohio, the part I come from, we cut our wheat in June. When is +your wheat harvest at Middlemount?" + +Clementina laughed. "I don't believe we've got any. I guess it's all +grass." + +"I wish you could see our country out there, once." + +"Is it nice?" + +"Nice? We're right in the centre of the state, measuring from north to +south, on the old National Road." Clementina had never heard of this +road, but she did not say so. "About five miles back from the Ohio +River, where the coal comes up out of the ground, because there's so much +of it there's no room for it below. Our farm's in a valley, along a +creek bottom, what you Yankees call an intervals; we've got three hundred +acres. My grandfather took up the land, and then he went back to +Pennsylvania to get the girl he'd left there--we were Pennsylvania Dutch; +that's where I got my romantic name--they drove all the way out to Ohio +again in his buggy, and when he came in sight of our valley with his +bride, he stood up in his buggy and pointed with his whip. "There! As +far as the sky is blue, it's all ours!" + +Clementina owned the charm of his story as he seemed to expect, but when +he said, "Yes, I want you to see that country, some day," she answered +cautiously. + +"It must be lovely. But I don't expect to go West, eva." + +"I like your Eastern way of saying everr," said Hinkle, and he said it in +his Western way. "I like New England folks." + +Clementina smiled discreetly. "They have their faults like everybody +else, I presume." + +"Ah, that's a regular Yankee word: presume," said Hinkle. "Our teacher, +my first one, always said presume. She was from your State, too." + + + + +XXIX. + +In the time of provisional quiet that followed for Clementina, she was +held from the remorses and misgivings that had troubled her before Hinkle +came. She still thought that she had let Dr. Welwright go away believing +that she had not cared enough for the offer which had surprised her so +much, and she blamed herself for not telling him how doubly bound she was +to Gregory; though when she tried to put her sense of this in words to +herself she could not make out that she was any more bound to him than +she had been before they met in Florence, unless she wished to be so. +Yet somehow in this time of respite, neither the regret for Dr. Welwright +nor the question of Gregory persisted very strongly, and there were whole +days when she realized before she slept that she had not thought of +either. + +She was in full favor again with Mrs. Lander, whom there was no one to +embitter in her jealous affection. Hinkle formed their whole social +world, and Mrs. Lander made the most of him. She was always having him +to the dinners which her landlord served her from a restaurant in her +apartment, and taking him out with Clementina in her gondola. He came +into a kind of authority with them both which was as involuntary with him +as with them, and was like an effect of his constant wish to be doing +something for them. + +One morning when they were all going out in Mrs. Lander's gondola, she +sent Clementina back three times to their rooms for outer garments of +differing density. When she brought the last Mrs. Lander frowned. + +"This won't do. I've got to have something else--something lighter and +warma." + +"I can't go back any moa, Mrs. Landa," cried the girl, from the +exasperation of her own nerves. + +"Then I will go back myself," said Mrs. Lander with dignity, "and we +sha'n't need the gondoler any more this mo'ning," she added, "unless you +and Mr. Hinkle wants to ride." + +She got ponderously out of the boat with the help of the gondolier's +elbow, and marched into the house again, while Clementina followed her. +She did not offer to help her up the stairs; Hinkle had to do it, and he +met the girl slowly coming up as he returned from delivering Mrs. Lander +over to Maddalena. + +"She's all right, now," he ventured to say, tentatively. + +"Is she?" Clementina coldly answered. + +In spite of her repellent air, he persisted, "She's a pretty sick woman, +isn't she?" + +"The docta doesn't say." + +"Well, I think it would be safe to act on that supposition. Miss +Clementina--I think she wants to see you." + +"I'm going to her directly." + +Hinkle paused, rather daunted. "She wants me to go for the doctor." + +"She's always wanting the docta." Clementina lifted her eyes and looked +very coldly at him. + +"If I were you I'd go up right away," he said, boldly. + +She felt that she ought to resent his interference, but the mild entreaty +of his pale blue eyes, or the elder-brotherly injunction of his smile, +forbade her. "Did she ask for me?" + +"No." + +"I'll go to her," she said, and she kept herself from smiling at the long +sigh of relief he gave as she passed him on the stairs. + +Mrs. Lander began as soon as she entered her room, "Well, I was just +wonderin' if you was goin' to leave me here all day alone, while you +staid down the'e, carryin' on with that simpleton. I don't know what's +got into the men." + +"Mr. Hinkle has gone for the docta," said Clementina, trying to get into +her voice the kindness she was trying to feel. + +"Well, if I have one of my attacks, now, you'll have yourself to thank +for it." + +By the time Dr. Tradonico appeared Mrs. Lander was so much better that in +her revulsion of feeling she was all day rather tryingly affectionate in +her indirect appeals for Clementina's sympathy. + +"I don't want you should mind what I say, when I a'n't feelin' just +right," she began that evening, after she had gone to bed, and Clementina +sat looking out of the open window, on the moonlit lagoon. + +"Oh, no," the girl answered, wearily. + +Mrs. Lander humbled herself farther. "I'm real sorry I plagued you so, +to-day, and I know Mr. Hinkle thought I was dreadful, but I couldn't help +it. I should like to talk with you, Clementina, about something that's +worryin' me, if you a'n't busy." + +"I'm not busy, now, Mrs. Lander," said Clementina, a little coldly, and +relaxing the clasp of her hands; to knit her fingers together had been +her sole business, and she put even this away, + +She did not come nearer the bed, and Mrs. Lander was obliged to speak +without the advantage of noting the effect of her words upon her in her +face. "It's like this: What am I agoin' to do for them relations of Mr. +Landa's out in Michigan?" + +"I don't know. What relations?" + +"I told you about 'em: the only ones he's got: his half-sista's children. +He neva saw 'em, and he neva wanted to; but they're his kin, and it was +his money. It don't seem right to pass 'em ova. Do you think it would +yourself, Clementina?" + +Why, of cou'se not, Mrs. Lander. It wouldn't be right at all." + +Mrs. Lander looked relieved, and she said, as if a little surprised, "I'm +glad you feel that way; I should feel just so, myself. I mean to do by +you just what I always said I should. I sha'n't forget you, but whe'e +the'e's so much I got to thinkin' the'e'd ought to some of it go to his +folks, whetha he ca'ed for 'em or not. It's worried me some, and I guess +if anything it's that that's made me wo'se lately." + +"Why by Mrs. Landa," said the girl, "Why don't you give it all to them?" + +"You don't know what you'a talkin' about," said Mrs. Lander, severely." I +guess if I give 'em five thousand or so amongst'em, it's full moa than +they eve thought of havin', and it's moa than they got any right to. +Well, that's all right, then; and we don't need to talk about it any moa. +Yes," she resumed, after a moment, "that's what I shall do. I hu'n't eva +felt just satisfied with that last will I got made, and I guess I shall +tear it up, and get the fust American lawyer that comes along to make me +a new one. The prop'ty's all goin' to you, but I guess I shall leave +five thousand apiece to the two families out the'e. You won't miss it, +any, and I presume it's what Mr. Landa would expect I should do; though +why he didn't do it himself, I can't undastand, unless it was to show his +confidence in me." + +She began to ask Clementina how she felt about staying in Venice all +summer; she said she had got so much better there already that she +believed she should be well by fall if she stayed on. She was certain +that it would put her all back if she were to travel now, and in Europe, +where it was so hard to know how to get to places, she did not see how +they could pick out any that would suit them as well as Venice did. + +Clementina agreed to it all, more or less absentmindedly, as she sat +looking into the moonlight, and the day that had begun so stormily ended +in kindness between them. + +The next morning Mrs. Lander did not wish to go out, and she sent +Clementina and Hinkle together as a proof that they were all on good +terms again. She did not spare the girl this explanation in his +presence, and when they were in the gondola he felt that he had to say, +"I was afraid you might think I was rather meddlesome yesterday." + +"Oh, no," she answered. "I was glad you did." + +"Yes," he returned, "I thought you would be afterwards." He looked at +her wistfully with his slanted eyes and his odd twisted smile and they +both gave way in the same conscious laugh. "What I like," he explained +further, "is to be understood when I've said something that doesn't mean +anything, don't you? You know anybody can understand you if you really +mean something; but most of the time you don't, and that's when a friend +is useful. I wish you'd call on me if you're ever in that fix." + +"Oh, I will, Mr. Hinkle," Clementina promised, gayly. + +"Thank you," he said, and her gayety seemed to turn him graver. "Miss +Clementina, might I go a little further in this direction, without +danger?" + +"What direction?" she added, with a flush of sudden alarm. + +"Mrs. Lander." + +"Why, suttainly!" she answered, in quick relief. + +"I wish you'd let me do some of the worrying about her for you, while I'm +here. You know I haven't got anything else to do!" + +"Why, I don't believe I worry much. I'm afraid I fo'get about her when +I'm not with her. That's the wo'st of it." + +"No, no," he entreated, "that's the best of it. But I want to do the +worrying for you even when you're with her. Will you let me?" + +"Why, if you want to so very much." + +"Then it's settled," he said, dismissing the subject. + +But she recurred to it with a lingering compunction. + +"I presume that I don't remember how sick she is because I've neva been +sick at all, myself." + +"Well," he returned, "You needn't be sorry for that altogether. There +are worse things than being well, though sick people don't always think +so. I've wasted a good deal of time the other way, though I've reformed, +now." + +They went on to talk about themselves; sometimes they talked about +others, in excursions which were more or less perfunctory, and were +merely in the way of illustration or instance. She got so far in one of +these as to speak of her family, and he seemed to understand them. He +asked about them all, and he said he believed in her father's unworldly +theory of life. He asked her if they thought at home that she was like +her father, and he added, as if it followed, "I'm the worldling of my +family. I was the youngest child, and the only boy in a flock of girls. +That always spoils a boy." + +"Are you spoiled?" she asked. + +"Well, I'm afraid they'd be surprised if I didn't come to grief somehow-- +all but--mother; she expects I'll be kept from harm." + +"Is she religious?" + +"Yes," she's a Moravian. Did you ever hear of them? "Clementina shook +her head. "They're something, like the Quakers, and something like the +Methodists. They don't believe in war; but they have bishops." + +And do you belong to her church? + +No," said the young man. "I wish I did, for her sake. I don't belong to +any. Do you?" + +"No, I go to the Episcopal, at home. Perhaps I shall belong sometime. +But I think that is something everyone must do for themselves." He +looked a little alarmed at the note of severity in her voice, and she +explained. "I mean that if you try to be religious for anything besides +religion, it isn't being religious;--and no one else has any right to ask +you to be." + +"Oh, that's what I believe, too," be said, with comic relief. "I didn't +know but I'd been trying to convert you without knowing it." They both +laughed, and were then rather seriously silent. + +He asked, after a moment, in a fresh beginning, "Have you heard from Miss +Milray since you left Florence?" + +"Oh, yes, didn't I tell you? She's coming here in June." + +"Well, she won't have the pleasure of seeing me, then. I'm going the +last of May." + +"I thought you were going to stay a month!" she protested. + +"That will be a month; and more, too." + +"So it will," she owned. + +"I'm glad it doesn't seem any longer-say a year--Miss Clementina!" + +"Oh, not at all," she returned. "Miss Milray's brother and his wife are +coming with her. They've been in Egypt." + +"I never saw them," said Hinkle. He paused, before he added, "Well, it +would seem rather crowded after they get here, I suppose," and he +laughed, while Clementina said nothing. + + + + +XXX. + +Hinkle came every morning now, to smoothe out the doubts and difficulties +that had accumulated in Mrs. Lander's mind over night, and incidentally +to propose some pleasure for Clementina, who could feel that he was +pitying her in her slavery to the sick woman's whims, and yet somehow +entreating her to bear them. He saw them together in what Mrs. Lander +called her well days; but there were other days when he saw Clementina +alone, and then she brought him word from Mrs. Lander, and reported his +talk to her after he went away. On one of these she sent him a +cheerfuller message than usual, and charged the girl to explain that she +was ever so much better, but had not got up because she felt that every +minute in bed was doing her good. Clementina carried back his regrets +and congratulation, and then told Mrs. Lander that he had asked her to go +out with him to see a church, which he was sorry Mrs. Lander could not +see too. He professed to be very particular about his churches, for he +said he had noticed that they neither of them had any great gift for +sights, and he had it on his conscience to get the best for them. He +told Clementina that the church he had for them now could not be better +if it had been built expressly for them, instead of having been used as a +place of worship for eight or ten generations of Venetians before they +came. She gave his invitation to Mrs. Lander, who could not always be +trusted with his jokes, and she received it in the best part. + +"Well, you go!" she said. "Maddalena can look after me, I guess. He's +the only one of the fellas, except that lo'd, that I'd give a cent for." +She added, with a sudden lapse from her pleasure in Hinkle to her +severity with Clementina, "But you want to be ca'eful what you' doin'." + +"Ca'eful?" + +"Yes! --About Mr. Hinkle. I a'n't agoin' to have you lead him on, and +then say you didn't know where he was goin'. I can't keep runnin' away +everywhe'e, fo' you, the way I done at Woodlake." + +Clementina's heart gave a leap, whether joyful or woeful; but she +answered indignantly, "How can you say such a thing to me, Mrs. Lander. +I'm not leading him on!" + +"I don't know what you call it. You're round with him in the gondoler, +night and day, and when he's he'e, you'a settin' with him half the time +on the balcony, and it's talk, talk, the whole while." Clementina took +in the fact with silent recognition, and Mrs. Lander went on. "I ain't +sayin' anything against it. He's the only one I don't believe is afta +the money he thinks you'a goin' to have; but if you don't want him, you +want to look what you're about." + +The girl returned to Hinkle in the embarrassment which she was helpless +to hide, and without the excuse which she could not invent for refusing +to go with him. "Is Mrs. Lander worse--or anything?" he asked. + +"Oh, no. She's quite well," said Clementina; but she left it for him to +break the constraint in which they set out. He tried to do so at +different points, but it seemed to close upon them--the more inflexibly. +At last he asked, as they were drawing near the church, "Have you ever +seen anything of Mr. Belsky since you left Florence?" + +"No," she said, with a nervous start. "What makes you ask?" + +"I don't know. But you see nearly everybody again that you meet in your +travels. That friend of his--that Mr. Gregory--he seems to have dropped +out, too. I believe you told me you used to know him in America." + +"Yes," she answered, briefly; she could not say more; and Hinkle went on. +"It seemed to me, that as far as I could make him out, he was about as +much of a crank in his way as the Russian. It's curious, but when you +were talking about religion, the other day, you made me think of him!" +The blood went to Clementina's heart. "I don't suppose you had him in +mind, but what you said fitted him more than anyone I know of. I could +have almost believed that he had been trying to convert you!" She stared +at him, and he laughed. "He tackled me one day there in Florence all of +a sudden, and I didn't know what to say, exactly. Of course, I respected +his earnestness; but I couldn't accept his view of things and I tried to +tell him so. I had to say just where I stood, and why, and I mentioned +some books that helped to get me there. He said he never read anything +that went counter to his faith; and I saw that he didn't want to save me, +so much as be wanted to convince me. He didn't know it, and I didn't +tell him that I knew it, but I got him to let me drop the subject. He +seems to have been left over from a time when people didn't reason about +their beliefs, but only argued. I didn't think there was a man like that +to be found so late in the century, especially a young man. But that was +just where I was mistaken. If there was to be a man of that kind at all, +it would have to be a young one. He'll be a good deal opener-minded when +he's older. He was conscientious; I could see that; and he did take the +Russian's death to heart as long as he was dead. But I'd like to talk +with him ten years from now; he wouldn't be where he is." + +Clementina was still silent, and she walked up the church steps from the +gondola without the power to speak. She made no show of interest in the +pictures and statues; she never had really cared much for such things, +and now his attempts to make her look at them failed miserably. When +they got back again into the boat he began, "Miss Clementina, I'm afraid +I oughtn't to have spoken as I did of that Mr. Gregory. If he is a +friend of yours"-- + +"He is," she made herself answer. + +"I didn't mean anything against him. I hope you don't think I wanted to +be unfair?" + +"You were not unfair. But I oughtn't to have let you say it, Mr. Hinkle. +I want to tell you something --I mean, I must"--She found herself panting +and breathless. "You ought to know it--Mr. Gregory is--I mean we are"-- + +She stopped and she saw that she need not say more. + +In the days that followed before the time that Hinkle had $xed to leave +Venice, he tried to come as he had been coming, to see Mrs. Lander, but +he evaded her when she wished to send him out with Clementina. His +quaintness had a heartache in it for her; and he was boyishly simple in +his failure to hide his suffering. He had no explicit right to suffer, +for he had asked nothing and been denied nothing, but perhaps for this +reason she suffered the more keenly for him. + +A senseless resentment against Gregory for spoiling their happiness crept +into her heart; and she wished to show Hinkle how much she valued his +friendship at any risk and any cost. When this led her too far she took +herself to task with a severity which hurt him too. In the midst of the +impulses on which she acted, there were times when she had a confused +longing to appeal to him for counsel as to how she ought to behave toward +him. + +There was no one else whom she could appeal to. Mrs. Lander, after her +first warning, had not spoken of him again, though Clementina could feel +in the grimness with which she regarded her variable treatment of him +that she was silently hoarding up a sum of inculpation which would crush +her under its weight when it should fall upon her. She seemed to be +growing constantly better, now, and as the interval since her last attack +widened behind her, she began to indulge her appetite with a recklessness +which Clementina, in a sense of her own unworthiness, was helpless to +deal with. When she ventured to ask her once whether she ought to eat of +something that was very unwholesome for her, Mrs. Lander answered that +she had taken her case into her own hands, now, for she knew more about +it than all the doctors. She would thank Clementina not to bother about +her; she added that she was at least not hurting anybody but herself, and +she hoped Clementina would always be able to say as much. + +Clementina wished that Hinkle would go away, but not before she had +righted herself with him, and he lingered his month out, and seemed as +little able to go as she to let him. She had often to be cheerful for +both, when she found it too much to be cheerful for herself. In his +absence she feigned free and open talks with him, and explained +everything, and experienced a kind of ghostly comfort in his imagined +approval and forgiveness, but in his presence, nothing really happened +except the alternation of her kindness and unkindness, in which she was +too kind and then too unkind. + +The morning of the' day he was at last to leave Venice, he came to say +good bye. He did not ask for Mrs. Lander, when the girl received him, +and he did not give himself time to lose courage before he began, "Miss +Clementina, I don't know whether I ought to speak to you after what I +understood you to mean about Mr. Gregory." He looked steadfastly at her +but she did not answer, and he went on. "There's just one chance in a +million, though, that I didn't understand you rightly, and I've made up +my mind that I want to take that chance. May I?" She tried to speak, +but she could not. "If I was wrong--if there was nothing between you and +him--could there ever be anything beween you and me?" + +His pleading looks entreated her even more than his words. + +"There was something," she answered, "with him." + +"And I mustn't know what," the young man said patiently. + +"Yes--yes!" she returned eagerly. "Oh, yes! I want you to know--I want +to tell you. I was only sixteen yea's old, and he said that he oughtn't +to have spoken; we were both too young. But last winta he spoke again. +He said that he had always felt bound"-- She stopped, and he got infirmly +to his feet. "I wanted to tell you from the fust, but"-- + +"How could you? You couldn't. I haven't anything more to say, if you +are bound to him." + +"He is going to be a missionary and he wanted me to say that I would +believe just as he did; and I couldn't. But I thought that it would come +right; and--yes, I felt bound to him, too. That is all--I can't explain +it!" + +"Oh, I understand!" he returned, listlessly. + +"And do you blame me for not telling before?" She made an involuntary +movement toward him, a pathetic gesture which both entreated and +compassionated. + +"There's nobody to blame. You have tried to do just right by me, as well +as him. Well, I've got my answer. Mrs. Lander--can I"-- + +"Why, she isn't up yet, Mr. Hinkle." Clementina put all her pain for him +into the expression of their regret. + +"Then I'll have to leave my good-bye for her with you. I don't believe I +can come back again." He looked round as if he were dizzy. "Good-bye," +he said, and offered his hand. It was cold as clay. + +When he was gone, Clementina went into Mrs: Lander's room, and gave her +his message. + +"Couldn't he have come back this aftanoon to see me, if he ain't goin' +till five?" she demanded jealously. + +"He said he couldn't come back," Clementina answered sadly. + +The woman turned her head on her pillow and looked at the girl's face. +"Oh!" she said for all comment. + + + + +XXXI. + +The Milrays came a month later, to seek a milder sun than they had left +burning in Florence. The husband and wife had been sojourning there +since their arrival from Egypt, but they had not been his sister's +guests, and she did not now pretend to be of their party, though the same +train, even the same carriage, had brought her to Venice with them. They +went to a hotel, and Miss Milray took lodgings where she always spent her +Junes, before going to the Tyrol for the summer. + +"You are wonderfully improved, every way," Mrs. Milray said to Clementina +when they met. "I knew you would be, if Miss Milray took you in hand; +and I can see she has. What she doesn't know about the world isn't worth +knowing! I hope she hasn't made you too worldly? But if she has, she's +taught you how to keep from showing it; you're just as innocent-looking +as ever, and that's the main thing; you oughtn't to lose that. You +wouldn't dance a skirt dance now before a ship's company, but if you did, +no one would suspect that you knew any better. Have you forgiven me, +yet? Well, I didn't use you very well, Clementina, and I never pretended +I did. I've eaten a lot of humble pie for that, my dear. Did Miss +Milray tell you that I wrote to her about it? Of course you won't say +how she told you; but she ought to have done me the justice to say that I +tried to be a friend at court with her for you. If she didn't, she +wasn't fair." + +"She neva said anything against you, Mrs. Milray," Clementina answered. + +"Discreet as ever, my dear! I understand! And I hope you understand +about that old affair, too, by this time. It was a complication. I had +to get back at Lioncourt somehow; and I don't honestly think now that his +admiration for a young girl was a very wholesome thing for her. But +never mind. You had that Boston goose in Florence, too, last winter, +and I suppose he gobbled up what little Miss Milray had left of me. But +she's charming. I could go down on my knees to her art when she really +tries to finish any one." + +Clementina noticed that Mrs. Milray had got a new way of talking. She +had a chirpiness, and a lift in her inflections, which if it was not +exactly English was no longer Western American. Clementina herself in +her association with Hinkle had worn off her English rhythm, and in her +long confinement to the conversation of Mrs. Lander, she had reverted to +her clipped Yankee accent. Mrs. Milray professed to like it, and said it +brought back so delightfully those pleasant days at Middlemount, when +Clementina really was a child. "I met somebody at Cairo, who seemed very +glad to hear about you, though he tried to seem not. Can you guess who +it was? I see that you never could, in the world! We got quite chummy +one day, when we were going out to the pyramids together, and he gave +himself away, finely. He's a simple soul! But when they're in love +they're all so! It was a little queer, colloguing with the ex-headwaiter +on society terms; but the head-waitership was merely an episode, and the +main thing is that he is very talented, and is going to be a minister. +It's a pity he's so devoted to his crazy missionary scheme. Some one +ought to get hold of him, and point him in the direction of a rich New +York congregation. He'd find heathen enough among them, and he could do +the greatest amount of good with their money; I tried to talk it into +him. I suppose you saw him in Florence, this spring?" she suddenly +asked. + +"Yes," Clementina answered briefly. + +"And you didn't make it up together. I got that much out of Miss Milray. +Well, if he were here, I should find out why. But I don't suppose you +would tell me." She waited a moment to see if Clementina would, and then +she said, "It's a pity, for I've a notion I could help you, and I think I +owe you a good turn, for the way I behaved about your dance. But if you +don't want my help, you don't." + +"I would say so if I did, Mrs. Milray," said Clementina. "I was hu't, +at the time; but I don't care anything for it, now. I hope you won't +think about it any more!" + +"Thank you," said Mrs. Milray, " I'll try not to," and she laughed. "But +I should like to do something to prove my repentance." + +Clementina perceived that for some reason she would rather have more than +less cause for regret; and that she was mocking her; but she was without +the wish or the power to retaliate, and she did not try to fathom Mrs. +Milray's motives. Most motives in life, even bad motives, lie nearer the +surface than most people commonly pretend, and she might not have had to +dig deeper into Mrs. Milray's nature for hers than that layer of her +consciousness where she was aware that Clementina was a pet of her +sister-in-law. For no better reason she herself made a pet of Mrs. +Lander, whose dislike of Miss Milray was not hard to divine, and whose +willingness to punish her through Clementina was akin to her own. The +sick woman was easily flattered back into her first belief in Mrs. Milray +and accepted her large civilities and small services as proof of her +virtues. She began to talk them into Clementina, and to contrast them +with the wicked principles and actions of Miss Milray. + +The girl had forgiven Mrs. Milray, but she could not go back to any trust +in her; and she could only passively assent to her praise. When Mrs. +Lander pressed her for anything more explicit she said what she thought, +and then Mrs. Lander accused her of hating Mrs. Milray, who was more her +friend than some that flattered her up for everything, and tried to make +a fool of her. + +"I undastand now," she said one day, "what that recta meant by wantin' me +to make life ba'd for you; he saw how easy you was to spoil. Miss Milray +is one to praise you to your face, and disgrace you be hind your back, +and so I tell you. When Mrs. Milray thought you done wrong she come and +said so; and you can't forgive her." + +Clementina did not answer. She had mastered the art of reticence in her +relations with Mrs. Lander, and even when Miss Milray tempted her one day +to give way, she still had strength to resist. But she could not deny +that Mrs. Lander did things at times to worry her, though she ended +compassionately with the reflection: "She's sick." + +"I dont think she's very sick, now," retorted her friend. + +"No; that's the reason she's so worrying. When she's really sick, she's +betta." + +"Because she's frightened, I suppose. And how long do you propose to +stand it? + +"I don't know," Clementina listlessly answered. + +"She couldnt get along without me. I guess I can stand it till we go +home; she says she is going home in the fall." + +Miss Milray sat looking at the girl a moment. + +"Shall you be glad to go home?" + +"Oh yes, indeed!" + +"To that place in the woods?" + +"Why, yes! What makes you ask?" + +"Nothing. But Clementina, sometimes I think you don't quite understand +yourself. Don't you know that you are very pretty and very charming? +I've told you that often enough! But shouldn't you like to be a great +success in the world? Haven't you ever thought of that? Don't you care +for society?" + +The girl sighed. "Yes, I think that's all very nice I did ca'e, one +while, there in Florence, last winter!" + +"My dear, you don't know how much you were admired. I used to tell you, +because I saw there was no spoiling you; but I never told you half. If +you had only had the time for it you could have been the greatest sort of +success; you were formed for it. It wasn't your beauty alone; lots of +pretty girls don't make anything of their beauty; it was your +temperament. You took things easily and naturally, and that's what the +world likes. It doesn't like your being afraid of it, and you were not +afraid, and you were not bold; you were just right." Miss Milray grew +more and more exhaustive in her analysis, and enjoyed refining upon it. +"All that you needed was a little hard-heartedness, and that would have +come in time; you would have learned how to hold your own, but the chance +was snatched from you by that old cat! I could weep over you when I +think how you have been wasted on her,and now you're actually willing to +go back and lose yourself in the woods!" + +"I shouldn't call it being lost, Miss Milray." + +"I don't mean that, and you must excuse me, my dear. But surely your +people--your father and mother--would want to have you get on in the +world--to make a brilliant match"-- + +Clementina smiled to think how far such a thing was from their +imaginations. "I don't believe they would ca'e. You don't undastand +about them, and I couldn't make you. Fatha neva liked the notion of my +being with such a rich woman as Mrs. Lander, because it would look as if +we wanted her money." + +"I never could have imagined that of you, Clementina!" + +"I didn't think you could," said the girl gratefully. "But now, if I +left her when she was sick and depended on me, it would look wohse, yet-- +as if I did it because she was going to give her money to Mr. Landa's +family. She wants to do that, and I told her to; I think that would be +right; don't you?" + +"It would be right for you, Clementina, if you preferred it--and--I +should prefer it. But it wouldn't be right for her. She has given you +hopes--she has made promises--she has talked to everybody." + +"I don't ca'e for that. I shouldn't like to feel beholden to any one, +and I think it really belongs to his relations; it was HIS." + +Miss Milray did not say anything to this. She asked, "And if you went +back, what would you do there? Labor in the fields, as poor little +Belsky advised?" + +Clementina laughed. "No; but I expect you'll think it's almost as crazy. +You know how much I like dancing? Well, I think I could give dancing +lessons at the Middlemount. There are always a good many children, and +girls that have not grown up, and I guess I could get pupils enough, as +long as the summa lasted; and come winter, I'm not afraid but what I +could get them among the young folks at the Center. I used to teach them +before I left home." + +Miss Milray sat looking at her. "I don't know about such things; but it +sounds sensible--like everything about you, my dear. It sounds queer, +perhaps because you're talking of such a White Mountain scheme here in +Venice." + +"Yes, don't it?" said Clementina, sympathetically. "I was thinking of +that, myself. But I know I could do it. I could go round to different +hotels, different days. Yes, I should like to go home, and they would be +glad to have me. You can't think how pleasantly we live; and we're +company enough for each other. I presume I should miss the things I've +got used to ova here, at fust; but I don't believe I should care a great +while. I don't deny but what the wo'ld is nice; but you have to pay for +it; I don't mean that you would make me"-- + +"No, no! We understand each other. Go on!" + +Miss Milray leaned towards her and pressed the girl's arm reassuringly. + +As often happens with people when they are told to go on, Clementina +found that she had not much more to say. "I think I could get along in +the wo'ld, well enough. Yes, I believe I could do it. But I wasn't bohn +to it, and it would be a great deal of trouble--a great deal moa than if +I had been bohn to it. I think it would be too much trouble. I would +rather give it up and go home, when Mrs. Landa wants to go back." + +Miss Milray did not speak for a time. "I know that you are serious, +Clementina; and you're wise always, and good"-- + +"It isn't that, exactly," said Clementina. "But is it--I don't know how +to express it very well--is it wo'th while? + +Miss Milray looked at her as if she doubted the girl's sincerity. Even +when the world, in return for our making it our whole life, disappoints +and defeats us with its prizes, we still question the truth of those who +question the value of these prizes; we think they must be hopeless of +them, or must be governed by some interest momentarily superior. + +Clementina pursued, "I know that you have had all you wanted of the +wo'ld"-- + +"Oh, no!" the woman broke out, almost in anguish. "Not what I wanted! +What I tried for. It never gave me what I wanted. It--couldn't!" + +"Well?" + +"It isn't worth while in that sense. But if you can't have what you +want,--if there's been a hollow left in your life--why the world goes a +great way towards filling up the aching void." The tone of the last +words was lighter than their meaning, but Clementina weighed them aright. + +"Miss Milray," she said, pinching the edge of the table by which she sat, +a little nervously, and banging her head a little, "I think I can have +what I want." Then, give the whole world for it, child!" + +"There is something I should like to tell you." + +"Yes!" + +For you to advise me about." + +I will, my dear, gladly and truly! + +"He was here before you came. He asked me"-- + +Miss Milray gave a start of alarm. She said, to gain time: "How did he +get here? I supposed he was in Germany with his"-- + +"No; he was here the whole of May." + +"Mr. Gregory!" + +"Mr. Gregory?" Clementina's face flushed and drooped Still lower. +"I meant Mr. Hinkle. But if you think I oughtn't"-- + +"I don't think anything; I'm so glad! I supposed from what you said +about the world, that it must be-- But if it isn't, all the better. If +it's Mr. Hinkle that you can have"-- + +"I'm not sure I can. I should like to tell you just how it is, and then +you will know." It needed fewer words for this than she expected, and +then Clementina took a letter from her pocket, and gave it to Miss +Milray. "He wrote it on the train, going away, and it's not very plain; +but I guess you can make it out." + +Miss Milray received the penciled leaves, which seemed to be pages torn +out of a note-book. They were dated the day Hinkle left Venice, and the +envelope bore the postmark of Verona. They were not addressed, but began +abruptly: "I believe I have made a mistake; I ought not to have given you +up till I knew something that no one but you can tell me. You are not +bound to any body unless you wish to be so. That is what I see now, and +I will not give you up if I can help it. Even if you had made a promise, +and then changed your mind, you would not be bound in such a thing as +this. I say this, and I know you will not believe I say it because I +want you. I do want you, but I would not urge you to break your faith. +I only ask you to realize that if you kept your word when your heart had +gone out of it, you would be breaking your faith; and if you broke your +word you would be keeping your faith. But if your heart is still in your +word, I have no more to say. Nobody knows but you. I would get out and +take the first train back to Venice if it were not for two things. I +know it would be hard on me; and I am afraid it might be hard on you. +But if you will write me a line at Milan, when you get this, or if you +will write to me at London before July; or at New York at any time--for I +expect to wait as long as I live"-- + +The letter ended here in the local addresses which the writer gave. + +Miss Milray handed the leaves back to Clementina, who put them into her +pocket, and apparently waited for her questions. + +"And have you written?" + +"No," said the girl, slowly and thoughtfully, "I haven't. I wanted to, +at fust; and then, I thought that if he truly meant what he said he would +be willing to wait." + +"And why did you want to wait?" + +Clementina replied with a question of her own. "Miss Milray, what do you +think about Mr. Gregory?" + +"Oh, you mustn't ask me that, my dear! I was afraid I had told you too +plainly, the last time." + +"I don't mean about his letting me think he didn't ca'e for me, so long. +But don't you think he wants to do what is right! Mr. Gregory, I mean." + +"Well, if you put me on my honor, I'm afraid I do." + +"You see," Clementina resumed. "He was the fust one, and I did ca'e for +him a great deal; and I might have gone on caring for him, if-- When I +found out that I didn't care any longer, or so much, it seemed to me as +if it must be wrong. Do you think it was?" + +"No-no." + +"When I got to thinking about some one else at fust it was only not +thinking about him--I was ashamed. Then I tried to make out that I was +too young in the fust place, to know whether I really ca'ed for any one +in the right way; but after I made out that I was, I couldn't feel +exactly easy--and I've been wanting to ask you, Miss Milray"-- + +"Ask me anything you like, my dear!" + +"Why, it's only whether a person ought eva to change." + +"We change whether we ought, or not. It isn't a matter of duty, one way +or another." + +"Yes, but ought we to stop caring for somebody, when perhaps we shouldn't +if somebody else hadn't come between? That is the question." + +"No," Miss Milray retorted, "that isn't at all the question. The +question is which you want and whether you could get him. Whichever you +want most it is right for you to have." + +"Do you truly think so?" + +"I do, indeed. This is the one thing in life where one may choose safest +what one likes best; I mean if there is nothing bad in the man himself." + +"I was afraid it would be wrong! That was what I meant by wanting to be +fai'a with Mr. Gregory when I told you about him there in Florence. I +don't believe but what it had begun then." + +"What had begun?" + +"About Mr. Hinkle." + +Miss Milray burst into a laugh. "Clementina, you're delicious!" +The girl looked hurt, and Miss Milray asked seriously, Why do you like +Mr. Hinkle best--if you do?" + +Clementina sighed. Oh, I don't know. He's so resting." + +"Then that settles it. From first to last, what we poor women want is +rest. It would be a wicked thing for you to throw your life away on some +one who would worry you out of it. I don't wish to say any thing against +Mr. Gregory. I dare say be is good--and conscientious; but life is a +struggle, at the best, and it's your duty to take the best chance for +resting." + +Clementina did not look altogether convinced, whether it was Miss +Milray's logic or her morality that failed to convince her. She said, +after a moment, "I should like to see Mr. Gregory again." + +"What good would that do?" + +"Why, then I should know." + +"Know what?" + +"Whether I didn't really ca'e for him any more--or so much." + +"Clementina," said Miss Milray, "you mustn't make me lose patience with +you"-- + +"No. But I thought you said that it was my duty to do what I wished." + +"Well, yes. That is what I said," Miss Milray consented. "But I +supposed that you knew already." + +"No," said Clementina, candidly, "I don't believe I do." + +"And what if you don't see him?" + +"I guess I shall have to wait till I do. The'e will be time enough." + +Miss Milray sighed, and then she laughed. "You ARE young!" + + + + +XXXII. + +Miss Milray went from Clementina to call upon her sister-in-law, and +found her brother, which was perhaps what she hoped might happen. + +"Do you know," she said, "that that old wretch is going to defraud that +poor thing, after all, and leave her money to her husband's half-sister's +children?" + +"You wish me to infer the Mrs. Lander--Clementina situation?" Milray +returned. + +"Yes!" + +"I'm glad you put it in terms that are not actionable, then; for your +words are decidedly libellous." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I've just been writing Mrs. Lander's will for her, and she's left all +her property to Clementina, except five thousand apiece to the half- +sister's three children." + +"I can't believe it!" + +"Well," said Milray, with his gentle smile, "I think that's safe ground +for you. Mrs. Lander will probably have time enough to change her will +as well as her mind several times yet before she dies. The half-sister's +children may get their rights yet." + +"I wish they might!" said Miss Milray, with an impassioned sigh. "Then +perhaps I should get Clementina--for a while." + +Her brother laughed. "Isn't there somebody else wants Clementina? + +"Oh, plenty. But she's not sure she wants anybody else." + +"Does she want you?" + +"No, I can't say she does. She wants to go home." + +"That's not a bad scheme. I should like to go home myself if I had one. +What would you have done with Clementina if you had got her, Jenny?" + +"What would any one have done with her? Married her brilliantly, of +course." + +"But you say she isn't sure she wishes to be married at all?" + +Miss Milray stated the case of Clementina's divided mind, and her belief +that she would take Hinkle in the end, together with the fear that she +might take Gregory. "She's very odd," Miss Milray concluded. "She +puzzles me. Why did you ever send her to me?" + +Milray laughed. "I don't know. I thought she would amuse you, and I +thought it would be a pleasure to her." + +They began to talk of some affairs of their own, from which Miss Milray +returned to Clementina with the ache of an imperfectly satisfied +intention. If she had meant to urge her brother to seek justice for the +girl from Mrs. Lander, she was not so well pleased to have found justice +done already. But the will had been duly signed and witnessed before the +American vice-consul, and she must get what good she could out of an +accomplished fact. It was at least a consolation to know that it put an +end to her sister-in-law's patronage of the girl, and it would be +interesting to see Mrs. Milray adapt her behavior to Clementina's +fortunes. She did not really dislike her sister-in-law enough to do her +a wrong; she was only willing that she should do herself a wrong. +But one of the most disappointing things in all hostile operations is +that you never can know what the enemy would be at; and Mrs. Milray's +manoevres were sometimes dictated by such impulses that her strategy was +peculiarly baffling. The thought of her past unkindness to Clementina +may still have rankled in her, or she may simply have felt the need of +outdoing Miss Milray by an unapproachable benefaction. It is certain +that when Baron Belsky came to Venice a few weeks after her own arrival, +they began to pose at each other with reference to Clementina; she with +a measure of consciousness, he with the singleness of a nature that was +all pose. In his forbearance to win Clementina from Gregory he had +enjoyed the distinction of an unique suffering; and in allowing the fact +to impart itself to Mrs. Milray, he bathed in the warmth of her +flattering sympathy. Before she withdrew this, as she must when she got +tired of him, she learned from him where Gregory was; for it seemed that +Gregory had so far forgiven the past that they had again written to each +other. + +During the fortnight of Belsky's stay in Venice Mrs. Lander was much +worse, and Clementina met him only once, very briefly-- She felt that he +had behaved like a very silly person, but that was all over now, and she +had no wish to punish him for it. At the end of his fortnight he went +northward into the Austrian Tyrol, and a few days later Gregory came down +from the Dolomites to Venice. + +It was in his favor with Clementina that he yielded to the impulse he had +to come directly to her; and that he let her know with the first words +that he had acted upon hopes given him through Belsky from Mrs. Milray. +He owned that he doubted the authority of either to give him these hopes, +but he said he could not abandon them without a last effort to see her, +and learn from her whether they were true or false. + +If she recognized the design of a magnificent reparation in what Mrs. +Milray had done, she did not give it much thought. Her mind was upon +distant things as she followed Gregory's explanation of his presence, +and in the muse in which she listened she seemed hardly to know when he +ceased speaking. + +"I know it must seem to take something for granted which I've no right to +take for granted. I don't believe you could think that I cared for +anything but you, or at all for what Mrs. Lander has done for you." + +"Do you mean her leaving me her money?" asked Clementina, with that +boldness her sex enjoys concerning matters of finance and affection. + +"Yes," said Gregory, blushing for her. "As far as I should ever have a +right to care, I could wish there were no money. It could bring no +blessing to our life. We could do no good with it; nothing but the +sacrifice of ourselves in poverty could be blessed to us." + +"That is what I thought, too," Clementina replied. + +"Oh, then you did think"-- + +But afterwards, I changed my Mind. If she wants to give me her money I +shall take it." + +Gregory was blankly silent again. + +"I shouldnt know how to refuse, and I don't know as I should have any +right to. Gregory shrank a little from her reyankeefied English, as well +as from the apparent cynicism of her speech; but he shrank in silence +still. She startled him by asking with a kindness that was almost +tenderness, "Mr. Gregory, how do you think anything has changed?" + +"Changed?" + +"You know how it was when you went away from Florence. Do you think +differently now? I don't. I don't think I ought to do something for +you, and pretend that I was doing it for religion. I don't believe the +way you do; and I know I neva shall. Do you want me in spite of my +saying that I can neva help you in your work because I believe in it?" + +"But if you believe in me"-- + +She shook her bead compassionately. "You know we ahgued that out before. +We are just whe'e we were. I am sorry. Nobody had any right to tell you +to come he'e. But I am glad you came--" She saw the hope that lighted up +his face, but she went on unrelentingly-- "I think we had betta be free." + +"Free?" + +"Yes, from each other. I don't know how you have felt, but I have not +felt free. It has seemed to me that I promised you something. If I did, +I want to take my promise back and be free." + +Her frankness appealed to his own. "You are free. I never held you +bound to me in my fondest hopes. You have always done right." + +"I have tried to. And I am not going to let you go away thinking that +the reason I said is the only reason. It isn't. I wish to be free +because--there is some one else, now." It was hard to tell him this, +but she knew that she must not do less; and the train that carried him +from Venice that night bore a letter from her to Hinkle. + + + + +XXXIII. + +Clementina told Miss Milray what had happened, but with Mrs. Milray the +girl left the sudden departure of Gregory to account for itself. + +They all went a week later, and Mrs. Milray having now done her whole +duty to Clementina had the easiest mind concerning her. Miss Milray felt +that she was leaving her to greater trials than ever with Mrs. Lander; +but since there was nothing else, she submitted, as people always do with +the trials of others, and when she was once away she began to forget her. + +By this time, however, it was really better for her. With no one to +suspect of tampering with her allegiance, Mrs. Lander returned to her +former fondness for the girl, and they were more peaceful if not happier +together again. They had long talks, such as they used to have, and in +the first of these Clementina told her how and why she had written to +Mr. Hinkle. Mrs. Lander said that it suited her exactly. + +"There ha'n't but just two men in Europe behaved like gentlemen to me, +and one is Mr. Hinkle, and the other is that lo'd; and between the two I +ratha you'd have Mr. Iiinkle; I don't know as I believe much in American +guls marryin' lo'ds, the best of 'em." + +Clementina laughed. "Why, Mrs. Landa, Lo'd Lioncou't never thought of me +in the wo'ld!" + +"You can't eva know. Mrs. Milray was tellin' that he's what they call a +pooa lo'd, and that he was carryin' on with the American girls like +everything down there in Egypt last winta. I guess if it comes to money +you'd have enough to buy him and sell him again." + +The mention of money cast a chill upon their talk; and Mrs. Lander said +gloomily, "I don't know as I ca'e so much for that will Mr. Milray made +for me, after all. I did want to say ten thousand apiece for Mr. Landa's +relations; but I hated to befo'e him; I'd told the whole kit of 'em so +much about you, and I knew what they would think." + +She looked at Clementina with recurring grudge, and the girl could not +bear it. + +"Then why don't you tear it up, and make another? I don't want anything, +unless you want me to have it; and I'd ratha not have anything." + +"Yes, and what would folks say, afta youa taken' care of me?" + +"Do you think I do it fo' that?" + +"What do you do it fo'?" + +"What did you want me to come with you fo'?" + +"That's true." Mrs. Lander brightened and warmed again. "I guess it's +all right. I guess I done right, and I got to be satisfied. I presume I +could get the consul to make me a will any time." + +Clementina did not relent so easily. "Mrs. Landa, whateva you do I don't +ca'e to know it; and if you talk to me again about this I shall go home. +I would stay with you as long as you needed me, but I can't if you keep +bringing this up." + +"I suppose you think you don't need me any moa! Betta not be too su'a." + +The girl jumped to her feet, and Mrs. Lander interposed. "Well, the'a! +I didn't mean anything, and I won't pesta you about it any moa. But I +think it's pretty ha'd. Who am I going to talk it ova with, then?" + +"You can talk it ova with the vice-consul," paid Clementina, at random. + +"Well, that's so." Mrs. Lander let Clementina get her ready for the +night, in sign of returning amity; when she was angry with her she always +refused her help, and made her send Maddalena. + +The summer heat increased, and the sick woman suffered from it, but she +could not be persuaded that she had strength to get away, though the +vice-consul, whom she advised with, used all his logic with her. He was +a gaunt and weary widower, who described himself as being officially +between hay and grass; the consul who appointed him had resigned after +going home, and a new consul had not yet been sent out to remove him. +On what she called her well days Mrs. Lander went to visit him, and she +did not mind his being in his shirt-sleeves, in the bit of garden where +she commonly found him, with his collar and cravat off, and clouded in +his own smoke; when she was sick she sent for him, to visit her. He made +excuses as often as she could, and if he saw Mrs. Lander's gondola coming +down the Grand Canal to his house he hurried on his cast clothing, and +escaped to the Piazza, at whatever discomfort and risk from the heat. + +"I don't know how you stand it, Miss Claxon," he complained to +Clementina, as soon as he learned that she was not a blood relation of +Mrs. Lander's, and divined that she had her own reservations concerning +her. "But that woman will be the death of me if she keeps this up. What +does she think I'm here for? If this goes on much longer I'll resign. +The salary won't begin to pay for it. What am I going to do? I don't +want to hurt her feelings, or not to help her; but I know ten times as +much about Mrs. Lander's liver as I do about my own, now." + +He treated Clementina as a person of mature judgment and a sage +discretion, and he accepted what comfort she could offer him when she +explained that it was everything for Mrs. Lander to have him to talk +with. "She gets tied of talking to me," she urged, "and there's nobody +else, now." + +"Why don't she hire a valet de place, and talk to him? I'd hire one +myself for her. It would be a good deal cheaper for me. It's as much as +I can do to stand this weather as it is." + +The vice-consul laughed forlornly in his exasperation, but he agreed with +Clementina when she said, in further excuse, that Mrs. Lander was really +very sick. He pushed back his hat, and scratched his head with a +grimace. + +"Of course, we've got to remember she's sick, and I shall need a little +sympathy myself if she keeps on at me this way. I believe I'll tell her +about my liver next time, and see how she likes it. Look here, Miss +Claxon! Couldn't we get her off to some of those German watering places +that are good for her complaints? I believe it would be the best thing +for her--not to mention me." + +Mrs. Lander was moved by the suggestion which he made in person +afterwards; it appealed to her old nomadic instinct; but when the consul +was gone she gave it up. "We couldn't git the'e, Clementina. I got to +stay he'e till I git up my stren'th. I suppose you'd be glad enough to +have me sta't, now the'e's nobody he'e but me," she added, suspiciously. +"You git this scheme up, or him?" + +Clementina did not defend herself, and Mrs. Lander presently came to her +defence. "I don't believe but what he meant it fo' the best--or you, +whichever it was, and I appreciate it; but all is I couldn't git off. I +guess this aia will do me as much good as anything, come to have it a +little coola." + +They went every afternoon to the Lido, where a wheeled chair met them, +and Mrs. Lander was trundled across the narrow island to the beach. In +the evenings they went to the Piazza, where their faces and figures had +become known, and the Venetians gossipped them down to the last fact of +their relation with an accuracy creditable to their ingenuity in the +affairs of others. To them Mrs. Lander was the sick American, very rich, +and Clementina was her adoptive daughter, who would have her millions +after her. Neither knew the character they bore to the amiable and +inquisitive public of the Piazza, or cared for the fine eyes that aimed +their steadfast gaze at them along the tubes of straw-barreled Virginia +cigars, or across little cups of coffee. Mrs. Lander merely remarked +that the Venetians seemed great for gaping, and Clementina was for the +most part innocent of their stare. + +She rested in the choice she had made in a content which was qualified by +no misgiving. She was sorry for Gregory, when she remembered him; but +her thought was filled with some one else, and she waited in faith and +patience for the answer which should come to the letter she had written. +She did not know where her letter would find him, or when she should hear +from him; she believed that she should hear, and that was enough. She +said to herself that she would not lose hope if no answer came for +months; but in her heart she fixed a date for the answer by letter, and +an earlier date for some word by cable; but she feigned that she did not +depend upon this; and when no word came she convinced herself that she +had not expected any. + +It was nearing the end of the term which she had tacitly given her lover +to make the first sign by letter, when one morning Mrs. Lander woke her. +She wished to say that she had got the strength to leave Venice at last, +and she was going as soon as their trunks could be packed. She had +dressed herself, and she moved about restless and excited. Clementina +tried to reason her out of her haste; but she irritated her, and fixed +her in her determination. "I want to get away, I tell you; I want to get +away," she answered all persuasion, and there seemed something in her +like the wish to escape from more than the oppressive environment, though +she spoke of nothing but the heat and the smell of the canal. "I believe +it's that, moa than any one thing, that's kept me sick he'e," she said. +"I tell you it's the malariar, and you'll be down, too, if you stay." + +She made Clementina go to the banker's, and get money to pay their +landlord's bill, and she gave him notice that they were going that +afternoon. Clementina wished to delay till they had seen the vice-consul +and the doctor; but Mrs. Lander broke out, "I don't want to see 'em, +either of 'em. The docta wants to keep me he'e and make money out of me; +I undastand him; and I don't believe that consul's a bit too good to take +a pussentage. Now, don't you say a wo'd to either of 'em. If you don't +do exactly what I tell you I'll go away and leave you he'e. Now, will +you?" + +Clementina promised, and broke her word. She went to the vice-consul and +told him she had broken it, and she agreed with him that he had better +not come unless Mrs. Lander sent for him. The doctor promptly imagined +the situation and said he would come in casually during the morning, so +as not to alarm the invalid's suspicions. He owned that Mrs. Lander was +getting no good from remaining in Venice, and if it were possible for her +to go, he said she had better go somewhere into cooler and higher air. + +His opinion restored him to Mrs. Lander's esteem, when it was expressed +to her, and as she was left to fix the sum of her debt to him, she made +it handsomer than anything he had dreamed of. She held out against +seeing the vice-consul till the landlord sent in his account. This was +for the whole month which she had just entered upon, and it included +fantastic charges for things hitherto included in the rent, not only for +the current month, but for the months past when, the landlord explained, +he had forgotten to note them. Mrs. Lander refused to pay these demands, +for they touched her in some of those economies which the gross rich +practice amidst their profusion. The landlord replied that she could not +leave his house, either with or without her effects, until she had paid. +He declared Clementina his prisoner, too, and he would not send for the +vice-consul at Mrs. Lander's bidding. How far he was within his rights +in all this they could not know, but he was perhaps himself doubtful, and +he consented to let them send for the doctor, who, when he came, behaved +like anything but the steadfast friend that Mrs. Lander supposed she had +bought in him. He advised paying the account without regard to its +justice, as the shortest and simplest way out of the trouble; but Mrs. +Lander, who saw him talking amicably and even respectfully with the +landlord, when he ought to have treated him as an extortionate scamp, +returned to her former ill opinion of him; and the vice-consul now +appeared the friend that Doctor Tradonico had falsely seemed. The doctor +consented, in leaving her to her contempt of him, to carry a message to +the vice-consul, though he came back, with his finger at the side of his +nose, to charge her by no means to betray his bold championship to the +landlord. + +The vice-consul made none of those shows of authority which Mrs. Lander +had expected of him. She saw him even exchanging the common decencies +with the landlord, when they met; but in fact it was not hard to treat +the smiling and courteous rogue well. In all their disagreement he had +looked as constantly to the comfort of his captives as if they had been +his chosen guests. He sent Mrs. Lander a much needed refreshment at the +stormiest moment of her indignation, and he deprecated without retort the +denunciations aimed at him in Italian which did not perhaps carry so far +as his conscience. The consul talked with him in a calm scarcely less +shameful than that of Dr. Tradonico; and at the end of their parley which +she had insisted upon witnessing, he said: + +"Well, Mrs. Lander, you've got to stand this gouge or you've got to stand +a law suit. I think the gouge would be cheaper in the end. You see, +he's got a right to his month's rent." + +"It ain't the rent I ca'e for: it's the candles, and the suvvice, and the +things he says we broke. It was undastood that everything was to be in +the rent, and his two old chaias went to pieces of themselves when we +tried to pull 'em out from the wall; and I'll neva pay for 'em in the +wo'ld." + +Why," the vice-consul pleaded, "it's only about forty francs for the +whole thing"-- + +"I don't care if it's only fotty cents. And I must say, Mr. Bennam, +you're about the strangest vice-consul, to want me to do it, that I eva +saw." + +The vice-consul laughed unresentfully. "Well, shall I send you a +lawyer?" + +"No!" Mrs. Lander retorted; and after a moment's reflection she added, +"I'm goin' to stay my month, and so you may tell him, and then I'll see +whetha he can make me pay for that breakage and the candles and suvvice. +I'm all wore out, as it is, and I ain't fit to travel, now, and I don't +know when I shall be. Clementina, you can go and tell Maddalena to stop +packin'. Or, no! I'll do it." + +She left the room without further notice of the consul, who said ruefully +to Clementina, "Well, I've missed my chance, Miss Claxon, but I guess +she's done the wisest thing for herself." + +"Oh, yes, she's not fit to go. She must stay, now, till it's coola. +Will you tell the landlo'd, or shall"-- + +"I'll tell him," said the vice-consul, and he had in the landlord. He +received her message with the pleasure of a host whose cherished guests +have consented to remain a while longer, and in the rush of his good +feeling he offered, if the charge for breakage seemed unjust to the vice- +consul, to abate it; and since the signora had not understood that she +was to pay extra for the other things, he would allow the vice-consul to +adjust the differences between them; it was a trifle, and he wished above +all things to content the signora, for whom he professed a cordial esteem +both on his own part and the part of all his family. + +"Then that lets me out for the present," said the vice-consul, when +Clementina repeated Mrs. Lander's acquiescence in the landlord's +proposals, and he took his straw hat, and called a gondola from the +nearest 'traghetto', and bargained at an expense consistent with his +salary, to have himself rowed back to his own garden-gate. + +The rest of the day was an era of better feeling between Mrs. Lander and +her host than they had ever known, and at dinner he brought in with his +own hand a dish which he said he had caused to be specially made for her. +It was so tempting in odor and complexion that Mrs. Lander declared she +must taste it, though as she justly said, she had eaten too much already; +when it had once tasted it she ate it all, against Clementina's +protestations; she announced at the end that every bite had done her +good, and that she never felt better in her life. She passed a happy +evening, with renewed faith in the air of the lagoon; her sole regret now +was that Mr. Lander had not lived to try it with her, for if he had she +was sure he would have been alive at that moment. + +She allowed herself to be got to bed rather earlier than usual; before +Clementina dropped asleep she heard her breathing with long, easy, quiet +respirations, and she lost the fear of the landlord's dish which had +haunted her through the evening. She was awakened in the morning by a +touch on her shoulder. Maddalena hung over her with a frightened face, +and implored her to come and look at the signora, who seemed not at all +well. Clementina ran into her room, and found her dead. She must have +died some hours before without a struggle, for the face was that of +sleep, and it had a dignity and beauty which it had not worn in her life +of self-indulgent wilfulness for so many years that the girl had never +seen it look so before. + + + + +XXXIV. + +The vice-consul was not sure how far his powers went in the situation +with which Mrs. Lander had finally embarrassed him. But he met the new +difficulties with patience, and he agreed with Clementina that they ought +to see if Mrs. Lander had left any written expression of her wishes +concerning the event. She had never spoken of such a chance, but had +always looked forward to getting well and going home, so far as the girl +knew, and the most careful search now brought to light nothing that bore +upon it. In the absence of instructions to the contrary, they did what +they must, and the body, emptied of its life of senseless worry and +greedy care, was laid to rest in the island cemetery of Venice. + +When all was over, the vice-consul ventured an observation which he had +hitherto delicately withheld. The question of Mrs. Lander's kindred had +already been discussed between him and Clementina, and he now felt that +another question had duly presented itself. "You didn't notice," he +suggested, "anything like a will when we went over the papers?" He had +looked carefully for it, expecting that there might have been some +expression of Mrs. Lander's wishes in it. "Because," he added, "I happen +to know that Mr. Milray drew one up for her; I witnessed it." + +"No," said Clementina, "I didn't see anything of it. She told me she had +made a will; but she didn't quite like it, and sometimes she thought she +would change it. She spoke of getting you to do it; I didn't know but +she had." + +The vice-consul shook his head. "No. And these relations of her +husband's up in Michigan; you don't know where they live, exactly?" + +"No. She neva told me; she wouldn't; she didn't like to talk about them; +I don't even know their names." + +The vice-consul thoughtfully scratched a corner of his chin through his +beard. "If there isn't any will, they're the heirs. I used to be a sort +of wild-cat lawyer, and I know that much law." + +"Yes," said Clementina. "She left them five thousand dollas apiece. She +said she wished she had made it ten." + +"I guess she's made it a good deal more, if she's made it anything. Miss +Claxon, don't you understand that if no will turns up, they come in for +all her money. + +"Well, that's what I thought they ought to do," said Clementina. + +"And do you understand that if that's so, you don't come in for anything? +You must excuse me for mentioning it; but she has told everybody that you +were to have it, and if there is no will"-- + +He stopped and bent an eye of lack-lustre compassion on the girl, who +replied, "Oh, yes. I know that; it's what I always told her to do. I +didn't want it." + +"You didn't want it?" + +"No." + +"Well!" The vice-consul stared at her, but he forbore the comment that +her indifference inspired. He said after a pause, "Then what we've got +to do is to advertise for the Michigan relations, and let 'em take any +action they want to." + +"That's the only thing we could do, I presume." + +This gave the vice-consul another pause. At the end of it he got to his +feet. "Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Claxon?" + +She went to her portfolio and produced Mrs. Lander's letter of credit. +It had been made out for three thousand pounds, in Clementina's name as +well as her own; but she had lived wastefully since she had come abroad, +and little money remained to be taken up. With the letter Clementina +handed the vice-consul the roll of Italian and Austrian bank-notes which +she had drawn when Mrs. Lander decided to leave Venice; they were to the +amount of several thousand lire and golden. She offered them with the +insensibility to the quality of money which so many women have, and which +is always so astonishing to men. "What must I do with these?" she asked. + +"Why, keep them! returned the vice-consul on the spur of his surprise. + +"I don't know as I should have any right to," said Clementina. "They +were hers." + +"Why, but"-- The vice-consul began his protest, but he could not end it +logically, and he did not end it at all. He insisted with Clementina +that she had a right to some money which Mrs. Lander had given her during +her life; he took charge of the bank-notes in the interest of the +possible heirs, and gave her his receipt for them. In the meantime he +felt that he ought to ask her what she expected to do. + +"I think," she said, "I will stay in Venice awhile." + +The vice-consul suppressed any surprise he might have felt at a decision +given with mystifying cheerfulness. He answered, Well, that was right; +and for the second time he asked her if there was anything he could do +for her. + +"Why, yes," she returned. "I should like to stay on in the house here, +if you could speak for me to the padrone." + +"I don't see why you shouldn't, if we can make the padrone understand +it's different." + +"You mean about the price?" The vice-consul nodded. "That's what I want +you should speak to him about, Mr. Bennam, if you would. Tell him that I +haven't got but a little money now, and he would have to make it very +reasonable. That is, if you think it would be right for me to stay, afta +the way he tried to treat Mrs. Lander." + +The vice-consul gave the point some thought, and decided that the +attempted extortion need not make any difference with Clementina, if she +could get the right terms. He said he did not believe the padrone was a +bad fellow, but he liked to take advantage of a stranger when he could; +we all did. When he came to talk with him he found him a man of heart if +not of conscience. He entered into the case with the prompt intelligence +and vivid sympathy of his race, and he made it easy for Clementina to +stay till she had heard from her friends in America. For himself and for +his wife, he professed that she could not stay too long, and they +proposed that if it would content the signorina still further they would +employ Maddalena as chambermaid till she wished to return to Florence; +she had offered to remain if the signorina stayed. + +"Then that is settled," said Clementina with a sigh of relief; and she +thanked the vice-consul for his offer to write to the Milrays for her, +and said that she would rather write herself. + +She meant to write as soon as she heard from Mr. Hinkle, which could not +be long now, for then she could be independent of the offers of help +which she dreaded from Miss Milray, even more than from Mrs. Milray; it +would be harder to refuse them; and she entered upon a passage of her +life which a nature less simple would have found much more trying. But +she had the power of taking everything as if it were as much to be +expected as anything else. If nothing at all happened she accepted the +situation with implicit resignation, and with a gayety of heart which +availed her long, and never wholly left her. + +While the suspense lasted she could not write home as frankly as before, +and she sent off letters to Middlemount which treated of her delay in +Venice with helpless reticence. They would have set another sort of +household intolerably wondering and suspecting, but she had the comfort +of knowing that her father would probably settle the whole matter by +saying that she would tell what she meant when she got round to it; and +apart from this she had mainly the comfort of the vice-consul's society. +He had little to do besides looking after her, and he employed himself +about this in daily visits which the padrone and his wife regarded as +official, and promoted with a serious respect for the vice-consular +dignity. If the visits ended, as they often did, in a turn on the Grand +Canal, and an ice in the Piazza, they appealed to the imagination of more +sophisticated witnesses, who decided that the young American girl had +inherited the millions of the sick lady, and become the betrothed of the +vice-consul, and that they were thus passing the days of their engagement +in conformity to the American custom, however much at variance with that +of other civilizations. + +This view of the affair was known to Maddalena, but not to Clementina, +who in those days went back in many things to the tradition of her life +at Middlemount. The vice-consul was of a tradition almost as simple, and +his longer experience set no very wide interval between them. It quickly +came to his telling her all about his dead wife and his married +daughters, and how, after his home was broken up, he thought he would +travel a little and see what that would do for him. He confessed that it +had not done much; he was always homesick, and he was ready to go as soon +as the President sent out a consul to take his job off his hands. He +said that he had not enjoyed himself so much since he came to Venice as +he was doing now, and that he did not know what he should do if +Clementina first got her call home. He betrayed no curiosity as to the +peculiar circumstances of her stay, but affected to regard it as +something quite normal, and he watched over her in every way with a +fatherly as well as an official vigilance which never degenerated into +the semblance of any other feeling. Clementina rested in his care in +entire security. The world had quite fallen from her, or so much of it +as she had seen at Florence, and in her indifference she lapsed into life +as it was in the time before that with a tender renewal of her allegiance +to it. There was nothing in the conversation of the vice-consul to +distract her from this; and she said and did the things at Venice that +she used to do at Middlemount, as nearly as she could; to make the days +of waiting pass more quickly, she tried to serve herself in ways that +scandalized the proud affection of Maddalena. It was not fit for the +signorina to make her bed or sweep her room; she might sew and knit if +she would; but these other things were for servants like herself. She +continued in the faith of Clementina's gentility, and saw her always as +she had seen her first in the brief hour of her social splendor in +Florence. Clementina tried to make her understand how she lived at +Middlemount, but she only brought before Maddalena the humiliating image +of a contadina, which she rejected not only in Clementina's behalf, but +that of Miss Milray. She told her that she was laughing at her, and she +was fixed in her belief when the girl laughed at that notion. Her +poverty she easily conceived of; plenty of signorine in Italy were poor; +and she protected her in it with the duty she did not divide quite evenly +between her and the padrone. + +The date which Clementina had fixed for hearing from Hinkle by cable had +long passed, and the time when she first hoped to hear from him by letter +had come and gone. Her address was with the vice-consul as Mrs. Lander's +had been, and he could not be ignorant of her disappointment when he +brought her letters which she said were from home. On the surface of +things it could only be from home that she wished to hear, but beneath +the surface he read an anxiety which mounted with each gratification of +this wish. He had not seen much of the girl while Hinkle was in Venice; +Mrs. Lander had not begun to make such constant use of him until Hinkle +had gone; Mrs. Milray had told him of Clementina's earlier romance, and +it was to Gregory that the vice-consul related the anxiety which he knew +as little in its nature as in its object. + +Clementina never doubted the good faith or constancy of her lover; but +her heart misgave her as to his well-being when it sank at each failure +of the vice-consul to bring her a letter from him. Something must have +happened to him, and it must have been something very serious to keep him +from writing; or there was some mistake of the post-office. The vice- +consul indulged himself in personal inquiries to make sure that the +mistake was not in the Venetian post-office; but he saw that he brought +her greater distress in ascertaining the fact. He got to dreading a look +of resolute cheerfulness that came into her face, when he shook his head +in sign that there were no letters, and he suffered from the covert +eagerness with which she glanced at the superscriptions of those he +brought and failed to find the hoped-for letter among them. Ordeal for +ordeal, he was beginning to regret his trials under Mrs. Lander. In them +he could at least demand Clementina's sympathy, but against herself this +was impossible. Once she noted his mute distress at hers, and broke into +a little laugh that he found very harrowing. + +"I guess you hate it almost as much as I do, Mr. Bennam." + +"I guess I do. I've half a mind to write the letter you want, myself." + +"I've half a mind to let you--or the letter I'd like to write." + +It had come to her thinking she would write again to Hinkle; but she +could not bring herself to do it. She often imagined doing it; she had +every word of such a letter in her mind; and she dramatized every fact +concerning it from the time she should put pen to paper, to the time when +she should get back the answer that cleared the mystery of his silence +away. The fond reveries helped her to bear her suspense; they helped to +make the days go by, to ease the doubt with which she lay down at night, +and the heartsick hope with which she rose up in the morning. + +One day, at the hour of his wonted visit, she say the vice-consul from +her balcony coming, as it seemed to her, with another figure in his +gondola, and a thousand conjectures whirled through her mind, and then +centred upon one idea. After the first glance she kept her eyes down, +and would not look again while she told herself incessantly that it could +not be, and that she was a fool and a goose and a perfect coot, to think +of such a thing for a single moment. When she allowed herself, or forced +herself, to look a second time; as the boat drew near, she had to cling +to the balcony parapet for support, in her disappointment. + +The person whom the vice-consul helped out of the gondola was an elderly +man like himself, and she took a last refuge in the chance that he might +be Hinkle's father, sent to bring her to him because he could not come to +her; or to soften some terrible news to her. Then her fancy fluttered +and fell, and she waited patiently for the fact to reveal itself. There +was something countrified in the figure of the man, and something +clerical in his face, though there was nothing in his uncouth best +clothes that confirmed this impression. In both face and figure there +was a vague resemblance to some one she had seen before, when the vice- +consul said: + +"Miss Claxon, I want to introduce the Rev. Mr. James B. Orson, of +Michigan." Mr. Orson took Clementina's hand into a dry, rough grasp, +while he peered into her face with small, shy eyes. The vice-consul +added with a kind of official formality, "Mr. Orson is the half-nephew of +Mr. Lander," and then Clementina now knew whom it was that he resembled. +"He has come to Venice," continued the vice-consul, "at the request of +Mrs. Lander; and he did not know of her death until I informed him of the +fact. I should have said that Mr. Orson is the son of Mr. Lander's half- +sister. He can tell you the balance himself." The vice-consul +pronounced the concluding word with a certain distaste, and the effect of +gladly retiring into the background. + +"Won't you sit down?" said Clementina, and she added with one of the +remnants of her Middlemount breeding, "Won't you let me take your hat?" + +Mr. Orson in trying to comply with both her invitations, knocked his well +worn silk hat from the hand that held it, and sent it rolling across the +room, where Clementina pursued it and put it on the table. + +"I may as well say at once," he began in a flat irresonant voice, "that I +am the representative of Mrs. Lander's heirs, and that I have a letter +from her enclosing her last will and testament, which I have shown to the +consul here"-- + +"Vice-consul," the dignitary interrupted with an effect of rejecting any +part in the affair. + +"Vice-consul, I should say,--and I wish to lay them both before you, in +order that"-- + +"Oh, that is all right," said Clementina sweetly. "I'm glad there is a +will. I was afraid there wasn't any at all. Mr. Bennam and I looked for +it everywhe'e." She smiled upon the Rev. Mr. Orson, who silently handed +her a paper. It was the will which Milray had written for Mrs. Lander, +and which, with whatever crazy motive, she had sent to her husband's +kindred. It provided that each of them should be given five thousand +dollars out of the estate, and that then all should go to Clementina. +It was the will Mrs. Lander told her she had made, but she had never seen +the paper before, and the legal forms hid the meaning from her so that +she was glad to have the vice-consul make it clear. Then she said +tranquilly, "Yes, that is the way I supposed it was." + +Mr. Orson by no means shared her calm. He did not lift his voice, but on +the level it had taken it became agitated. "Mrs. Lander gave me the +address of her lawyer in Boston when she sent me the will, and I made a +point of calling on him when I went East, to sail. I don't know why she +wished me to come out to her, but being sick, I presume she naturally +wished to see some of her own family." + +He looked at Clementina as if he thought she might dispute this, but she +consented at her sweetest, "Oh, yes, indeed," and he went on: + +"I found her affairs in a very different condition from what she seemed +to think. The estate was mostly in securities which had not been +properly looked after, and they had depreciated until they were some of +them not worth the paper they were printed on. The house in Boston is +mortgaged up to its full value, I should say; and I should say that Mrs. +Lander did not know where she stood. She seemed to think that she was a +very rich woman, but she lived high, and her lawyer said he never could +make her understand how the money was going. Mr. Lander seemed to lose +his grip, the year he died, and engaged in some very unfortunate +speculations; I don't know whether he told her. I might enter into +details"-- + +"Oh, that is not necessary," said Clementina, politely, witless of the +disastrous quality of the facts which Mr. Orson was imparting. + +"But the sum and substance of it all is that there will not be more than +enough to pay the bequests to her own family, if there is that." + +Clementina looked with smiling innocence at the vice-consul. + +"That is to say," he explained, "there won't be anything at all for you, +Miss Claxon." + +"Well, that's what I always told Mrs. Lander I ratha, when she brought it +up. I told her she ought to give it to his family," said Clementina, +with a satisfaction in the event which the vice-consul seemed unable to +share, for he remained gloomily silent. "There is that last money I drew +on the letter of credit, you can give that to Mr. Orson." + +"I have told him about that money," said the vice-consul, dryly. "It +will be handed over to him when the estate is settled, if there isn't +enough to pay the bequests without it." + +"And the money which Mrs. Landa gave me before that," she pursued, +eagerly. Mr. Orson had the effect of pricking up his ears, though it was +in fact merely a gleam of light that came into his eyes. + +"That's yours," said the vice-consul, sourly, almost savagely. "She +didn't give it to you without she wanted you to have it, and she didn't +expect you to pay her bequests with it. In my opinion," he burst out, in +a wrathful recollection of his own sufferings from Mrs. Lander, "she +didn't give you a millionth part of your due for all the trouble she made +you; and I want Mr. Orson to understand that, right here." + +Clementina turned her impartial gaze upon Mr. Orson as if to verify the +impression of this extreme opinion upon him; he looked as if he neither +accepted nor rejected it, and she concluded the sentence which the vice- +consul had interrupted. "Because I ratha not keep it, if there isn't +enough without it." + +The vice-consul gave way to violence. "It's none of your business +whether there's enough or not. What you've got to do is to keep what +belongs to you, and I'm going to see that you do. That's what I'm here +for." If this assumption of official authority did not awe Clementina, +at least it put a check upon her headlong self-sacrifice. The vice- +consul strengthened his hold upon her by asking, "What would you do. +I should like to know, if you gave that up?" + +"Oh, I should get along," she returned, Light-heartedly, but upon +questioning herself whether she should turn to Miss Milray for help, +or appeal to the vice-consul himself, she was daunted a little, and she +added, "But just as you say, Mr. Bennam." + +"I say, keep what fairly belongs to you. It's only two or three hundred +dollars at the outside," he explained to Mr. Orson's hungry eyes; but +perhaps the sum did not affect the country minister's imagination as +trifling; his yearly salary must sometimes have been little more. + +The whole interview left the vice-consul out of humor with both parties +to the affair; and as to Clementina, between the ideals of a perfect +little saint, and a perfect little simpleton he remained for the present +unable to class her. + + + + +XXXV. + +Clementina and the Vice-Consul afterwards agreed that Mrs. Lander must +have sent the will to Mr. Orson in one of those moments of suspicion when +she distrusted everyone about her, or in that trouble concerning her +husband's kindred which had grown upon her more and more, as a means of +assuring them that they were provided for. + +"But even then," the vice-consul concluded, "I don't see why she wanted +this man to come out here. The only explanation is that she was a little +off her base towards the last. That's the charitable supposition." + +"I don't think she was herself, some of the time," Clementina assented in +acceptance of the kindly construction. + +The vice-consul modified his good will toward Mrs. Lander's memory so far +as to say, "Well, if she'd been somebody else most of the time, it would +have been an improvement." + +The talk turned upon Mr. Orson, and what he would probably do. The vice- +consul had found him a cheap lodging, at his request, and he seemed to +have settled down at Venice either without the will or without the power +to go home, but the vice-consul did not know where he ate, or what he did +with himself except at the times when he came for letters. Once or twice +when he looked him up he found him writing, and then the minister +explained that he had promised to "correspond" for an organ of his sect +in the Northwest; but he owned that there was no money in it. He was +otherwise reticent and even furtive in his manner. He did not seem to go +much about the city, but kept to his own room; and if he was writing of +Venice it must have been chiefly from his acquaintance with the little +court into which his windows looked. He affected the vice-consul as +forlorn and helpless, and he pitied him and rather liked him as a fellow- +victim of Mrs. Lander. + +One morning Mr. Orson came to see Clementina, and after a brief passage +of opinion upon the weather, he fell into an embarrassed silence from +which he pulled himself at last with a visible effort. "I hardly know +how to lay before you what I have to say, Miss Claxon," he began, "and I +must ask you to put the best construction upon it. I have never been +reduced to a similar distress before. You would naturally think that I +would turn to the vice-consul, on such an occasion; but I feel, through +our relation to the--to Mrs. Lander--ah--somewhat more at home with you." + +He stopped, as if he wished to be asked his business, and she entreated +him, "Why, what is it, Mr. Osson? Is there something I can do? There +isn't anything I wouldn't!" + +A gleam, watery and faint, which still could not be quite winked away, +came into his small eyes. "Why, the fact is, could you--ah--advance me +about five dollars?" + +"Why, Mr. Orson!" she began, and he seemed to think she wished to +withdraw her offer of help, for he interposed. + +"I will repay it as soon as I get an expected remittance from home. +I came out on the invitation of Mrs. Lander, and as her guest, and I +supposed"-- + +"Oh, don't say a wo'd!" cried Clementina, but now that he had begun he +was powerless to stop. + +"I would not ask, but my landlady has pressed me for her rent--I suppose +she needs it--and I have been reduced to the last copper"-- + +The girl whose eyes the tears of self pity so rarely visited, broke into +a sob that seemed to surprise her visitor. But she checked herself as +with a quick inspiration: "Have you been to breakfast?" + +"Well--ah--not this morning," Mr. Orson admitted, as if to imply that +having breakfasted some other morning might be supposed to serve the +purpose. + +She left him and ran to the door. "Maddalena, Maddalena!" she called; +and Maddalena responded with a frightened voice from the direction of the +kitchen: + +"Vengo subito!" + +She hurried out with the coffee-pot in her hand, as if she had just taken +it up when Clementina called; and she halted for the whispered colloquy +between them which took place before she set it down on the table already +laid for breakfast; then she hurried out of the room again. She came +back with a cantaloupe and grapes, and cold ham, and put them before +Clementina and her guest, who both ignored the hunger with which he swept +everything before him. When his famine had left nothing, he said, in +decorous compliment: + +"That is very good coffee, I should think the genuine berry, though I am +told that they adulterate coffee a great deal in Europe." + +"Do they?" asked Clementina. "I didn't know it." + +She left him still sitting before the table, and came back with some +bank-notes in her hand. "Are you sure you hadn't betta take moa?" she +asked. + +"I think that five dollars will be all that I shall require," he +answered, with dignity. "I should be unwilling to accept more. I shall +undoubtedly receive some remittances soon." + +"Oh, I know you will," Clementina returned, and she added, "I am waiting +for lettas myself; I don't think any one ought to give up." + +The preacher ignored the appeal which was in her tone rather than her +words, and went on to explain at length the circumstances of his having +come to Europe so unprovided against chances. When he wished to excuse +his imprudence, she cried out, "Oh, don't say a wo'd ! It's just like my +own fatha," and she told him some things of her home which apparently did +not interest him very much. He had a kind of dull, cold self-absorption +in which he was indeed so little like her father that only her kindness +for the lonely man could have justified her in thinking there was any +resemblance. + +She did not see him again for a week, and meantime she did not tell the +vice-consul of what had happened. But an anxiety for the minister began +to mingle with her anxieties for herself; she constantly wondered why she +did not hear from her lover, and she occasionally wondered whether Mr. +Orson were not falling into want again. She had decided to betray his +condition to the vice-consul, when he came, bringing the money she had +lent him. He had received a remittance from an unexpected source; and he +hoped she would excuse his delay in repaying her loan. She wished not to +take the money, at least till he was quite sure he should not want it, +but he insisted. + +"I have enough to keep me, now, till I hear from other sources, with the +means for returning home. I see no object in continuing here, under the +circumstances: + +In the relief which she felt for him Clementina's heart throbbed with a +pain which was all for herself. Why should she wait any longer either? +For that instant she abandoned the hope which had kept her up so long; a +wave of homesickness overwhelmed her. + +"I should like to go back, too," she said. "I don't see why I'm staying. + +Mr. Osson, why can't you let me"--she was going to say--"go home with +you? "But she really said what was also in her heart, "Why can't you let +me give you the money to go home? It is all Mrs. Landa's money, anyway." + +"There is certainly that view of the matter," be assented with a +promptness that might have suggested a lurking grudge for the vice- +consul's decision that she ought to keep the money Mrs. Lander had given +her. + +But Clementina urged unsuspiciously: "Oh, yes, indeed! And I shall feel +better if you take it. I only wish I could go home, too!" + +The minister was silent while he was revolving, with whatever scruple or +reluctance, a compromise suitable to the occasion. Then he said, "Why +should we not return together?" + +"Would you take me?" she entreated. + +"That should be as you wished. I am not much acquainted with the usages +in such matters, but I presume that it would be entirely practicable. We +could ask the vice-consul." + +"Yes"-- + +"He must have had considerable experience in cases of the kind. Would +your friends meet you in New York, or"-- + +"I don't know," said Clementina with a pang for the thought of a meeting +she had sometimes fancied there, when her lover had come out for her, and +her father had been told to come and receive them. "No," she sighed, +"the'e wouldn't be time to let them know. But it wouldn't make any +difference. I could get home from New Yo'k alone," she added, +listlessly. Her spirits had fallen again. She saw that she could not +leave Venice till she had heard in some sort from the letter she had +written. "Perhaps it couldn't be done, after all. But I will see Mr. +Bennam about it, Mr. Osson; and I know he will want you to have that much +of the money. He will be coming he'e, soon." + +He rose upon what he must have thought her hint, and said, "I should not +wish to have him swayed against his judgment." + +The vice-consul came not long after the minister had left her, and she +began upon what she wished to do for him. + +The vice-consul was against it. "I would rather lend him the money out +of my own pocket. How are you going to get along yourself, if you let +him have so much?" + +She did not answer at once. Then she said, hopelessly, " I've a great +mind to go home with him. I don't believe there's any use waiting here +any longa." The vice-consul could not say anything to this. She added, +"Yes, I believe I will go home. We we'e talking about it, the other day, +and he is willing to let me go with him." + +"I should think he would be," the vice-consul retorted in his indignation +for her. "Did you offer to pay for his passage?" + +"Yes," she owned, "I did," and again the vice-consul could say nothing. +"If I went, it wouldn't make any difference whether it took it all or +not. I should have plenty to get home from New York with." + +"Well," the vice-consul assented, dryly, "it's for you to say." + +"I know you don't want me to do it!" + +"Well, I shall miss you," he answered, evasively. + +"And I shall miss you, too, Mr. Bennam. Don't you believe it? But if I +don't take this chance to get home, I don't know when I shall eva have +anotha. And there isn't any use waiting--no, there isn't!" + +The vice-consul laughed at the sort of imperative despair in her tone. +"How are you going? Which way, I mean." + +They counted up Clementina's debts and assets, and they found that if she +took the next steamer from Genoa, which was to sail in four days, she +would have enough to pay her own way and Mr. Orson's to New York, and +still have some thirty dollars over, for her expenses home to +Middlemount. They allowed for a second cabin-passage, which the vice- +consul said was perfectly good on the Genoa steamers. He rather urged +the gentility and comfort of the second cabin-passage, but his reasons in +favor of it were wasted upon Clementina's indifference; she wished to get +home, now, and she did not care how. She asked the vice-consul to see +the minister for her, and if he were ready and willing, to telegraph for +their tickets. He transacted the business so promptly that he was able +to tell her when he came in the evening that everything was in train. +He excused his coming; he said that now she was going so soon, he wanted +to see all he could of her. He offered no excuse when he came the next +morning; but he said he had got a letter for her and thought she might +want to have it at once. + +He took it out of his hat and gave it to her. It was addressed in +Hinkle's writing; her answer had come at last; she stood trembling with +it in her hand. + +The vice-consul smiled. "Is that the one?" + +"Yes," she whispered back. + +"All right." He took his hat, and set it on the back of his head before +he left her without other salutation. + +Then Clementina opened her letter. It was in a woman's hand, and the +writer made haste to explain at the beginning that she was George W. +Hinkle's sister, and that she was writing for him; for though he was now +out of danger, he was still very weak, and they had all been anxious +about him. A month before, he had been hurt in a railroad collision, and +had come home from the West, where the accident happened, suffering +mainly from shock, as his doctor thought; he had taken to his bed at +once, and had not risen from it since. He had been out of his head a +great part of the time, and had been forbidden everything that could +distress or excite him. His sister said that she was writing for him now +as soon as he had seen Clementina's letter; it had been forwarded from +one address to another, and had at last found him there at his home in +Ohio. He wished to say that he would come out for Clementina as soon as +he was allowed to undertake the journey, and in the meantime she must let +him know constantly where she was. The letter closed with a few words of +love in his own handwriting. + +Clementina rose from reading it, and put on her hat in a bewildered +impulse to go to him at once; she knew, in spite of all the cautions and +reserves of the letter that he must still be very sick. When she came +out of her daze she found that she could only go to the vice-consul. She +put the letter in his hands to let it explain itself. "You'll undastand, +now," she said. "What shall I do?" + +When he had read it, he smiled and answered, "I guess I understood pretty +well before, though I wasn't posted on names. Well, I suppose you'll +want to layout most of your capital on cables, now?" + +"Yes," she laughed, and then she suddenly lamented, " Why didn't they +telegraph?" + +"Well, I guess he hadn't the head for it," said the vice-consul, "and the +rest wouldn't think of it. They wouldn't, in the country." + +Clementina laughed again; in joyous recognition of the fact, "No, my +fatha wouldn't, eitha!" + +The vice-consul reached for his hat, and he led the way to Clementina's +gondola at his garden gate, in greater haste than she. At the telegraph +office he framed a dispatch which for expansive fullness and precision +was apparently unexampled in the experience of the clerk who took it and +spelt over its English with them. It asked an answer in the vice- +consul's care, and, "I'll tell you what, Miss Claxon," he said with a +husky weakness in his voice, "I wish you'd let this be my treat." + +She understood. "Do you really, Mr. Bennam?" + +"I do indeed." + +"Well, then, I will," she said, but when he wished to include in his +treat the dispatch she sent home to her father announcing her coming, she +would not let him. + +He looked at his watch, as they rowed away. "It's eight o'clock here, +now, and it will reach Ohio about six hours earlier; but you can't expect +an answer tonight, you know." + +"No"-- She had expected it though, he could see that. + +"But whenever it comes, I'll bring it right round to you. Now it's all +going to be straight, don't you be afraid, and you're going home the +quickest way you can get there. I've been looking up the sailings, and +this Genoa boat will get you to New York about as soon as any could from +Liverpool. Besides there's always a chance of missing connections and +losing time between here and England. I should stick to the Genoa boat." + +"Oh I shall," said Clementina, far less fidgetted than he. She was, in +fact, resting securely again in the faith which had never really deserted +her, and had only seemed for a little time to waver from her when her +hope went. Now that she had telegraphed, her heart was at peace, and she +even laughed as she answered the anxious vice-consul. + + + + +XXXVI. + +The next morning Clementina watched for the vice-consul from her balcony. +She knew he would not send; she knew he would come; but it, was nearly +noon before she saw him coming. They caught sight of each other almost +at the same moment, and he stood up in his boat, and waved something +white in his hand, which must be a dispatch for her. + +It acknowledged her telegram and reported George still improving; his +father would meet her steamer in New York. It was very reassuring, it +was every thing hopeful; but when she had read it she gave it to the +vice-consul for encouragement. + +"It's all right, Miss Claxon," he said, stoutly. "Don't you be troubled +about Mr. Hinkle's not coming to meet you himself. He can't keep too +quiet for a while yet." + +"Oh, yes," said Clementina, patiently. + +"If you really want somebody to worry about, you can help Mr. Orson to +worry about himself!" the vice-consul went on, with the grimness he had +formerly used in speaking of Mrs. Lander. "He's sick, or he thinks he's +going to be. He sent round for me this morning, and I found him in bed. +You may have to go home alone. But I guess he's more scared than hurt." + +Her heart sank, and then rose in revolt against the mere idea of delay. +"I wonder if I ought to go and see him," she said. + +"Well, it would be a kindness," returned the vice-consul, with a +promptness that unmasked the apprehension he felt for the sick man. + +He did not offer to go with her, and she took Maddalena. She found the +minister seated in his chair beside his bed. A three days' beard +heightened the gauntness of his face; he did not move when his padrona +announced her. + +"I am not any better," he answered when she said that she was glad to see +him up. "I am merely resting; the bed is hard. I regret to say," he +added, with a sort of formal impersonality, "that I shall be unable to +accompany you home, Miss Claxon. That is, if you still think of taking +the steamer this week." + +Her whole being had set homeward in a tide that already seemed to drift +the vessel from its moorings. "What--what do you mean?" she gasped. + +"I didn't know," he returned, "but that in view of the circumstances--all +the circumstances--you might be intending to defer your departure to some +later steamer." + +"No, no, no ! I must go, now. I couldn't wait a day, an hour, a minute +after the first chance of going. You don't know what you are saying! +He might die if I told him I was not coming; and then what should I do?" +This was what Clementina said to herself; but what she said to Mr. Orson, +with an inspiration from her terror at his suggestion was, "Don't you +think a little chicken broth would do you good, Mr. Osson? I don't +believe but what it would." + +A wistful gleam came into the preacher's eyes. "It might," he admitted, +and then she knew what must be his malady. She sent Maddalena to a +trattoria for the soup, and she did not leave him, even after she had +seen its effect upon him. It was not hard to persuade him that he had +better come home with her; and she had him there, tucked away with his +few poor belongings, in the most comfortable room the padrone could +imagine, when the vice-consul came in the evening. + +"He says he thinks he can go, now," she ended, when she had told the +vice-consul. "And I know he can. It wasn't anything but poor living." + +"It looks more like no living," said the vice-consul. "Why didn't the +old fool let some one know that he was short of money? "He went on with +a partial transfer of his contempt of the preacher to her, "I suppose if +he'd been sick instead of hungry, you'd have waited over till the next +steamer for him." + +She cast down her eyes. "I don't know what you'll think of me. I should +have been sorry for him, and I should have wanted to stay." She lifted +her eyes and looked the vice-consul defiantly in the face. "But he +hadn't the fust claim on me, and I should have gone--I couldn't, have +helped it!--I should have gone, if he had been dying!" + +"Well, you've got more horse-sense," said the vice-consul, " than any ten +men I ever saw," and he testified his admiration of her by putting his +arms round her, where she stood before him, and kissing her. "Don't you +mind," he explained. "If my youngest girl had lived, she would have been +about your age." + +"Oh, it's all right, Mr. Bennam," said Clementina. + +When the time came for them to leave Venice, Mr. Orson was even eager to +go. The vice-consul would have gone with them in contempt of the +official responsibilities which he felt to be such a thankless burden, +but there was really no need of his going, and he and Clementina treated +the question with the matter-of-fact impartiality which they liked in +each other. He saw her off at the station where Maddalena had come to +take the train for Florence in token of her devotion to the signorina, +whom she would not outstay in Venice. She wept long and loud upon +Clementina's neck, so that even Clementina was once moved to put her +handkerchief to her tearless eyes. + +At the last moment she had a question which she referred to the vice +consul. "Should you tell him?" she asked. + +"Tell who what?" he retorted. + +"Mr. Osson-that I wouldn't have stayed for him." + +"Do you think it would make you feel any better?" asked the consul, upon +reflection. + +"I believe he ought to know." + +"Well, then, I guess I should do it." + +The time did not come for her confession till they had nearly reached the +end of their voyage. It followed upon something like a confession from +the minister himself, which he made the day he struggled on deck with her +help, after spending a week in his berth. + +"Here is something," he said, "which appears to be for you, Miss Claxon. +I found it among some letters for Mrs. Lander which Mr. Bennam gave me +after my arrival, and I only observed the address in looking over the +papers in my valise this morning." He handed her a telegram. "I trust +that it is nothing requiring immediate attention." + +Clementina read it at a glance. "No," she answered, and for a while she +could not say anything more; it was a cable message which Hinkle's sister +must have sent her after writing. No evil had come of its failure to +reach her, and she recalled without bitterness the suffering which would +have been spared her if she had got it before. It was when she thought +of the suffering of her lover from the silence which must have made him +doubt her, that she could not speak. As soon as she governed herself +against her first resentment she said, with a little sigh, "It is all +right, now, Mr. Osson," and her stress upon the word seemed to trouble +him with no misgiving. "Besides, if you're to blame for not noticing, so +is Mr. Bennam, and I don't want to blame any one." She hesitated a +moment before she added: "I have got to tell you something, now, because +I think you ought to know it. I am going home to be married, Mr. Osson, +and this message is from the gentleman I am going to be married to. +He has been very sick, and I don't know yet as he'll be able to meet me +in New Yo'k; but his fatha will." + +Mr. Orson showed no interest in these facts beyond a silent attention to +her words, which might have passed for an open indifference. At his time +of life all such questions, which are of permanent importance to women, +affect men hardly more than the angels who neither marry nor are given in +marriage. Besides, as a minister he must have had a surfeit of all +possible qualities in the love affairs of people intending matrimony. +As a casuist he was more reasonably concerned in the next fact which +Clementina laid before him. + +"And the otha day, there in Venice when you we'e sick, and you seemed to +think that I might put off stahting home till the next steamer, I don't +know but I let you believe I would." + +"I supposed that the delay of a week or two could make no material +difference to you." + +"But now you see that it would. And I feel as if I ought to tell you-- +I spoke to Mr. Bennam about it, and he didn't tell me not to--that I +shouldn't have staid, no not for anything in the wo'ld. I had to do what +I did at the time, but eva since it has seemed as if I had deceived you, +and I don't want to have it seem so any longer. It isn't because I don't +hate to tell you; I do; but I guess if it was to happen over again I +couldn't feel any different. Do you want I should tell the deck-stewahd +to bring you some beef-tea?" + +"I think I could relish a small portion," said Mr. Orson, cautiously, and +he said nothing more. + +Clementina left him with her nerves in a flutter, and she did not come +back to him until she decided that it was time to help him down to his +cabin. He suffered her to do this in silence, but at the door he cleared +his throat and began: + +"I have reflected upon what you told me, and I have tried to regard the +case from all points. I believe that I have done so, without personal +feeling, and I think it my duty to say, fully and freely, that I believe +you would have done perfectly right not to remain." + +"Yes," said Clementina, "I thought you would think so." + +They parted emotionlessly to all outward effect, and when they met again +it was without a sign of having passed through a crisis of sentiment. +Neither referred to the matter again, but from that time the minister +treated Clementina with a deference not without some shadows of +tenderness such as her helplessness in Venice had apparently never +inspired. She had cast out of her mind all lingering hardness toward him +in telling him the hard truth, and she met his faint relentings with a +grateful gladness which showed itself in her constant care of him. + +This helped her a little to forget the strain of the anxiety that +increased upon her as the time shortened between the last news of her +lover and the next; and there was perhaps no more exaggeration in the +import than in the terms of the formal acknowledgment which Mr. Orson +made her as their steamer sighted Fire Island Light, and they both knew +that their voyage had ended: "I may not be able to say to you in the +hurry of our arrival in New York that I am obliged to you for a good many +little attentions, which I should be pleased to reciprocate if +opportunity offered. I do not think I am going too far in saying that +they are such as a daughter might offer a parent." + +"Oh, don't speak of it, Mr. Osson!" she protested. "I haven't done +anything that any one wouldn't have done." + +"I presume," said the minister, thoughtfully, as if retiring from an +extreme position, "that they are such as others similarly circumstanced, +might have done, but it will always be a source of satisfaction for you +to reflect that you have not neglected them." + + + + +XXXVII. + +In the crowd which thronged the steamer's dock at Hoboken, Clementina +strained her eyes to make out some one who looked enough like her lover +to be his father, and she began to be afraid that they might miss each +other when she failed. She walked slowly down the gangway, with the +people that thronged it, glad to be hidden by them from her failure, but +at the last step she was caught aside by a small blackeyed, black-haired +woman, who called out "Isn't this Miss Claxon? I'm Georrge's sisterr. +Oh, you'rre just like what he said! I knew it! I knew it!" and then +hugged her and kissed her, and passed her to the little lean dark old man +next her. "This is fatherr. I knew you couldn't tell us, because I take +afterr him, and Georrge is exactly like motherr." + +George's father took her hand timidly, but found courage to say to his +daughter, "Hadn't you betterr let her own fatherr have a chance at herr?" +and amidst a tempest of apologies and self blame from the sister, Claxon +showed himself over the shoulders of the little man. + +"Why, there wa'n't no hurry, as long as she's he'a," he said, in prompt +enjoyment of the joke, and he and Clementina sparely kissed each other. + +"Why, fatha!" she said. "I didn't expect you to come to New Yo'k to meet +me." + +"Well, I didn't ha'dly expect it myself; but I'd neva been to Yo'k, and I +thought I might as well come. Things ah' ratha slack at home, just now, +anyway." + +She did not heed his explanation. "We'e you sca'ed when you got my +dispatch?" + +"No, we kind of expected you'd come any time, the way you wrote afta Mrs. +Landa died. We thought something must be up." + +"Yes," she said, absently. Then, "Whe'e's motha?" she asked. + +"Well, I guess she thought she couldn't get round to it, exactly," said +the father. "She's all right. Needn't ask you!" + +"No, I'm fust-rate," Clementina returned, with a silent joy in her +father's face and voice. She went back in it to the girl of a year ago, +and the world which had come between them since their parting rolled away +as if it had never been there. + +Neither of them said anything about that. She named over her brothers +and sisters, and he answered, "Yes, yes," in assurance of their well- +being, and then he explained, as if that were the only point of real +interest, "I see your folks waitin' he'e fo' somebody, and I thought I'd +see if it wa'n't the same one, and we kind of struck up an acquaintance +on your account befo'e you got he'e, Clem." + + +"Your folks!" she silently repeated to herself. "Yes, they ah' mine!" +and she stood trying to realize the strange fact, while George's sister +poured out a voluminous comment upon Claxon's spare statement, and +George's father admired her volubility with the shut smile of toothless +age. She spoke with the burr which the Scotch-Irish settlers have +imparted to the whole middle West, but it was music to Clementina, who +heard now and then a tone of her lover in his sister's voice. In the +midst of it all she caught sight of a mute unfriended figure just without +their circle, his traveling shawl hanging loose upon his shoulders, and +the valise which had formed his sole baggage in the voyage to and from +Europe pulling his long hand out of his coat sleeve. + +"Oh, yes," she said, "here is Mr. Osson that came ova with me, fatha; +he's a relation of Mr. Landa's," and she presented him to them all. + +He shifted his valise to the left hand, and shook hands with each, +asking, "What name?" and then fell motionless again. + +"Well," said her father, "I guess this is the end of this paht of the +ceremony, and I'm goin' to see your baggage through the custom-house, +Clementina; I've read about it, and I want to know how it's done. I want +to see what you ah' tryin' to smuggle in." + +"I guess you won't find much," she said. "But you'll want the keys, +won't you?" She called to him, as he was stalking away. + +"Well, I guess that would be a good idea. Want to help, Miss Hinkle?" + +"I guess we might as well all help," said Clementina, and Mr. Orson +included himself in the invitation. He seemed unable to separate himself +from them, though the passage of Clementina's baggage through the +customs, and its delivery to an expressman for the hotel where the +Hinkles said they were staying might well have severed the last tie +between them. + +"Ah' you going straight home, Mr. Osson?" she asked, to rescue him from +the forgetfulness into which they were all letting him fall. + +"I think I will remain over a day," he answered. "I may go on to Boston +before starting West." + +"Well, that's right," said Clementina's father with the wish to approve +everything native to him, and an instinctive sense of Clementina's wish +to befriend the minister. "Betta come to oua hotel. We're all goin' to +the same one." + +"I presume it is a good one?" Mr. Orson assented. + +"Well," said Claxon, "you must make Miss Hinkle, he'a, stand it if it +ain't. She's got me to go to it." + +Mr. Orson apparently could not enter into the joke; but he accompanied +the party, which again began to forget him, across the ferry and up the +elevated road to the street car that formed the last stage of their +progress to the hotel. At this point George's sister fell silent, and +Clementina's father burst out, "Look he'a! I guess we betty not keep +this up any Tonga; I don't believe much in surprises, and I guess she +betta know it now!" + +He looked at George's sister as if for authority to speak further, and +Clementina looked at her, too, while George's father nervously moistened +his smiling lips with the tip of his tongue, and let his twinkling eyes +rest upon Clementina's face. + +"Is he at the hotel?" she asked. + +"Yes," said his sister, monosyllabic for once. + +"I knew it," said Clementina, and she was only half aware of the fullness +with which his sister now explained how he wanted to come so much that +the doctor thought he had better, but that they had made him promise he +would not try to meet her at the steamer, lest it should be too great a +trial of his strength. + +"Yes," Clementina assented, when the story came to an end and was +beginning over again. + +She had an inexplicable moment when she stood before her lover in the +room where they left her to meet him alone. She faltered and he waited +constrained by her constraint. + +"Is it all a mistake, Clementina?" he asked, with a piteous smile. + +"No, no!" + +"Am I so much changed?" + +"No; you are looking better than I expected." + +"And you are not sorry-for anything?" + +"No, I am-- Perhaps I have thought of you too much! It seems so +strange." + +"I understand," he answered. "We have been like spirits to each other, +and now we find that we are alive and on the earth like other people; and +we are not used to it." + +"It must be something like that." + +"But if it's something else--if you have the least regret,--if you would +rather "--He stopped, and they remained looking at each other a moment. +Then she turned her head, and glanced out of the window, as if something +there had caught her sight. + +"It's a very pleasant view, isn't it?" she said; and she lifted her hands +to her head, and took off her hat, with an effect of having got home +after absence, to stay. + + + + +XXXVIII. + +It was possibly through some sense finer than any cognition that +Clementina felt in meeting her lover that she had taken up a new burden +rather than laid down an old one. Afterwards, when they once recurred to +that meeting, and she tried to explain for him the hesitation which she +had not been able to hide, she could only say, "I presume I didn't want +to begin unless I was sure I could carry out. It would have been silly." + +Her confession, if it was a confession, was made when one of his returns +to health, or rather one of the arrests of his unhealth, flushed them +with hope and courage; but before that first meeting was ended she knew +that he had overtasked his strength, in coming to New York, and he must +not try it further. "Fatha," she said to Claxon, with the authority of a +woman doing her duty, "I'm not going to let Geo'ge go up to Middlemount, +with all the excitement. It will be as much as he can do to get home. +You can tell mother about it; and the rest. I did suppose it would be +Mr. Richling that would marry us, and I always wanted him to, but I guess +somebody else can do it as well." + +"Just as you say, Clem," her father assented. "Why not Brother Osson, +he'a?" he suggested with a pleasure in the joke, whatever it was, that +the minister's relation to Clementina involved. "I guess he can put off +his visit to Boston long enough." + +"Well, I was thinking of him," said Clementina. "Will you ask him?" + +"Yes. I'll get round to it, in the mohning." + +"No-now; right away. I've been talking with Geo'ge about it; and the'e's +no sense in putting it off. I ought to begin taking care of him at +once." + +"Well, I guess when I tell your motha how you're layin' hold, she won't +think it's the same pusson," said her father, proudly. + +"But it is; I haven't changed a bit." + +"You ha'n't changed for the wohse, anyway." + +"Didn't I always try to do what I had to?" + +"I guess you did, Clem." + +"Well, then!" + +Mr. Orson, after a decent hesitation, consented to perform the ceremony. +It took place in a parlor of the hotel, according to the law of New York, +which facilitates marriage so greatly in all respects that it is strange +any one in the State should remain single. He had then a luxury of +choice between attaching himself to the bridal couple as far as Ohio on +his journey home to Michigan, or to Claxon who was going to take the boat +for Boston the next day on his way to Middlemount. He decided for +Claxon, since he could then see Mrs. Lander's lawyer at once, and arrange +with him for getting out of the vice-consul's hands the money which he +was holding for an authoritative demand. He accepted without open +reproach the handsome fee which the elder Hinkle gave him for his +services, and even went so far as to say, "If your son should ever be +blest with a return to health, he has got a helpmeet such as there are +very few of." He then admonished the young couple, in whatever trials +life should have in store for them, to be resigned, and always to be +prepared for the worst. When he came later to take leave of them, he was +apparently not equal to the task of fitly acknowledging the return which +Hinkle made him of all the money remaining to Clementina out of the sum +last given her by Mrs. Lander, but he hid any disappointment he might +have suffered, and with a brief, "Thank you," put it in his pocket. + +Hinkle told Clementina of the apathetic behavior of Mr. Orson; he added +with a laugh like his old self, "It's the best that he doesn't seem +prepared for." + +"Yes," she assented. " He wasn't very chee'ful. But I presume that he +meant well. It must be a trial for him to find out that Mrs. Landa +wasn't rich, after all." + +It was apparently never a trial to her. She went to Ohio with her +husband and took up her life on the farm, where it was wisely judged that +he had the best chance of working out of the wreck of his health and +strength. There was often the promise and always the hope of this, and +their love knew no doubt of the future. Her sisters-in-law delighted in +all her strangeness and difference, while they petted her as something +not to be separated from him in their petting of their brother; to his +mother she was the darling which her youngest had never ceased to be; +Clementina once went so far as to say to him that if she was ever +anything she would like to be a Moravian. + +The question of religion was always related in their minds to the +question of Gregory, to whom they did justice in their trust of each +other. It was Hinkle himself who reasoned out that if Gregory was +narrow, his narrowness was of his conscience and not of his heart or his +mind. She respected the memory of her first lover; but it was as if he +were dead, now, as well as her young dream of him, and she read with a +curious sense of remoteness, a paragraph which her husband found in the +religious intelligence of his Sunday paper, announcing the marriage of +the Rev. Frank Gregory to a lady described as having been a frequent and +bountiful contributor to the foreign missions. She was apparently a +widow, and they conjectured that she was older than he. His departure +for his chosen field of missionary labor in China formed part of the news +communicated by the rather exulting paragraph. + +"Well, that is all right," said Clementina's husband. "He is a good man, +and he is where he can do nothing but good. I am glad I needn't feel +sorry for him, any more." + +Clementina's father must have given such a report of Hinkle and his +family, that they felt easy at home in leaving her to the lot she had +chosen. When Claxon parted from her, he talked of coming out with her +mother to see her that fall; but it was more than a year before they got +round to it. They did not come till after the birth of her little girl, +and her father then humorously allowed that perhaps they would not have +got round to it at all if something of the kind had not happened. The +Hinkles and her father and mother liked one another, so much that in the +first glow of his enthusiasm Claxon talked of settling down in Ohio, and +the older Hinkle drove him about to look at some places that were for +sale. But it ended in his saying one day that he missed the hills, and +he did not believe that he would know enough to come in when it rained if +he did not see old Middlemount with his nightcap on first. His wife and +he started home with the impatience of their years, rather earlier than +they had meant to go, and they were silent for a little while after they +left the flag-station where Hinkle and Clementina had put them aboard +their train. + +"Well?" said Claxon, at last. + +"Well?" echoed his wife, and then she did not speak for a little while +longer. At last she asked, + +"D'he look that way when you fust see him in New Yo'k?" + +Claxon gave his honesty time to get the better of his optimism. Even +then he answered evasively, "He doos look pootty slim." + +"The way I cypher it out," said his wife, "he no business to let her +marry him, if he wa'n't goin' to get well. It was throwin' of herself +away, as you may say." + +"I don't know about that," said Claxon, as if the point had occurred to +him, too, and had been already argued in his mind. "I guess they must +'a' had it out, there in New York before they got married--or she had. +I don't believe but what he expected to get well, right away. It's the +kind of a thing that lingas along, and lingas along. As fah fo'th as +Clem went, I guess there wa'n't any let about it. I guess she'd made up +her mind from the staht, and she was goin' to have him if she had to hold +him on his feet to do it. Look he'a! W hat would you done?" + +"Oh, I presume we're all fools!" said Mrs. Claxon, impatient of a sex not +always so frank with itself. "But that don't excuse him." + +"I don't say it doos," her husband admitted. "But I presume he was +expectin' to get well right away, then. And I don't believe," he added, +energetically, "but what he will, yet. As I undastand, there ain't +anything ogganic about him. It's just this he'e nuvvous prostration, +resultin' from shock, his docta tells me; and he'll wo'k out of that all +right." + +They said no more, and Mrs. Claxon did not recur to any phase of the +situation till she undid the lunch which the Hinkles had put up for them, +and laid out on the napkin in her lap the portions of cold ham and cold +chicken, the buttered biscuit, and the little pot of apple-butter, with +the large bottle of cold coffee. Then she sighed, "They live well." + +"Yes," said her husband, glad of any concession, "and they ah' good +folks. And Clem's as happy as a bud with 'em, you can see that." + +"Oh, she was always happy enough, if that's all you want. I presume she +was happy with that hectorin' old thing that fooled her out of her +money." + +"I ha'n't ever regretted that money, Rebecca.," said Claxon, stiffly, +almost sternly, "and I guess you a'n't, eitha." + +"I don't say I have," retorted Mrs. Claxon. "But I don't like to be made +a fool of. I presume," she added, remotely, but not so irrelevantly, +"Clem could ha' got 'most anybody, ova the'a." + +"Well," said Claxon, taking refuge in the joke, "I shouldn't want her to +marry a crowned head, myself." + +It was Clementina who drove the clay-bank colt away from the station +after the train had passed out of sight. Her husband sat beside her, and +let her take the reins from his nerveless grasp; and when they got into +the shelter of the piece of woods that the road passed through he put up +his hands to his face, and broke into sobs. She allowed him to weep on, +though she kept saying, "Geo'ge, Geo'ge," softly, and stroking his knee +with the hand next him. When his sobbing stopped, she said, "I guess +they've had a pleasant visit; but I'm glad we'a together again." He took +up her hand and kissed the back of it, and then clutched it hard, but did +not speak. "It's strange," she went on, "how I used to be home-sick for +father and motha"--she had sometimes lost her Yankee accent in her +association with his people, and spoke with their Western burr, but she +found it in moments of deeper feeling--" when I was there in Europe, and +now I'm glad to have them go. I don't want anybody to be between us; and +I want to go back to just the way we we'e befo'e they came. It's been a +strain on you, and now you must throw it all off and rest, and get up +your strength. One thing, I could see that fatha noticed the gain you +had made since he saw you in New Yo'k. He spoke about it to me the fust +thing, and he feels just the way I do about it. He don't want you to +hurry and get well, but take it slowly, and not excite yourself. He +believes in your gleaner, and he knows all about machinery. He says the +patent makes it puffectly safe, and you can take your own time about +pushing it; it's su'a to go. And motha liked you. She's not one to talk +a great deal--she always leaves that to father and me--but she's got deep +feelings, and she just worshipped the baby! I neva saw her take a child +in her ahms before; but she seemed to want to hold the baby all the +time." She stopped, and then added, tenderly, "Now, I know what you ah' +thinking about, Geo'ge, and I don't want you to think about it any more. +If you do, I shall give up." + +They had come to a bad piece of road where a Slough of thick mud forced +the wagon-way over the stumps of a turnout in the woods. "You had better +let me have the reins, Clementina," he said. He drove home over the +yellow leaves of the hickories and the crimson leaves of the maples, that +heavy with the morning dew, fell slanting through the still air; and on +the way he began to sing; his singing made her heart ache. His father +came out to put up the colt for him; and Hinkle would not have his help. + +He unhitched the colt himself, while his father trembled by with bent +knees; he clapped the colt on the haunch and started him through the +pasture-bars with a gay shout, and then put his arm round Clementina's +waist, and walked her into the kitchen amidst the grins of his mother and +sisters, who said he ought to be ashamed. + +The winter passed, and in the spring he was not so well as he had been in +the fall. It was the out-door life which was best for him, and he picked +up again in the summer. When another autumn came, it was thought best +for him not to risk the confinement of another winter in the North. The +prolongation of the summer in the South would complete his cure, and +Clementina took her baby and went with him to Florida. He was very well, +there, and courageous letters came to Middlemount and Ohio, boasting of +the gains he had made. One day toward spring he came in languid from the +damp, unnatural heat, and the next day he had a fever, which the doctor +would not, in a resort absolutely free from malaria, pronounce malarial. +After it had once declared itself, in compliance with this reluctance, a +simple fever, Hinkle was delirious, and he never knew Clementina again +for the mother of his child. They were once more at Venice in his +ravings, and he was reasoning with her that Belsky was not drowned. + +The mystery of his malady deepened into the mystery of his death. With +that his look of health and youth came back, and as she gazed upon his +gentle face, it wore to her the smile of quaint sweetness that she had +seen it wear the first night it won her fancy at Miss Milray's horse in +Florence. + +Six years after Miss Milray parted with Clementina in Venice she found +herself, towards the close of the summer, at Middlemount. She had +definitely ceased to live in Florence, where she had meant to die, and +had come home to close her eyes. She was in no haste to do this, and in +the meantime she was now at Middlemount with her brother, who had +expressed a wish to revisit the place in memory of Mrs. Milray. It was +the second anniversary of her divorce, which had remained, after a +married life of many vicissitudes, almost the only experience untried in +that relation, and which had been happily accomplished in the courts of +Dacotah, upon grounds that satisfied the facile justice of that State. +Milray had dealt handsomely with his widow, as he unresentfully called +her, and the money he assigned her was of a destiny perhaps as honored as +its origin. She employed it in the negotiation of a second marriage, in +which she redressed the balance of her first by taking a husband somewhat +younger than herself. + +Both Milray and his sister had a wish which was much more than a +curiosity to know what had become of Clementina; they had heard that her +husband was dead, and that she had come back to Middlemount; and Miss +Milray was going to the office, the afternoon following their arrival, to +ask the landlord about her, when she was arrested at the door of the +ball-room by a sight that she thought very pretty. At the bottom of the +room, clearly defined against the long windows behind her, stood the +figure of a lady in the middle of the floor. In rows on either side sat +little girls and little boys who left their places one after another, and +turned at the door to make their manners to her. In response to each +obeisance the lady dropped a curtsey, now to this side, now to that, +taking her skirt between her finger tips on either hand and spreading it +delicately, with a certain elegance of movement, and a grace that was +full of poetry, and to Miss Milray, somehow, full of pathos. There +remained to the end a small mite of a girl, who was the last to leave her +place and bow to the lady. She did not quit the room then, like the +others, but advanced toward the lady who came to meet her, and lifted her +and clasped her to her breast with a kind of passion. She walked down +toward the door where Miss Milray stood, gently drifting over the +polished floor, as if still moved by the music that had ceased, and as +she drew near, Miss Milray gave a cry of joy, and ran upon her. "Why, +Clementina!" she screamed, and caught her and the child both in her arms. + +She began to weep, but Clementina smiled instead of weeping, as she +always used to do. She returned Miss Milray's affectionate greeting with +a tenderness as great as her own, but with a sort of authority, such as +sometimes comes to those who have suffered. She quieted the older woman +with her own serenity, and met the torrent of her questions with as many +answers as their rush permitted, when they were both presently in Miss +Milray's room talking in their old way. From time to time Miss Milray +broke from the talk to kiss the little girl, whom she declared to be +Clementina all over again, and then returned to her better behavior with +an effect of shame for her want of self-control, as if Clementina's mood +had abashed her. Sometimes this was almost severe in its quiet; that was +her mother coming to her share in her; but again she was like her father, +full of the sunny gayety of self-forgetfulness, and then Miss Milray +said, "Now you are the old Clementina!" + +Upon the whole she listened with few interruptions to the story which she +exacted. It was mainly what we know. After her husband's death +Clementina had gone back to his family for a time, and each year since +she had spent part of the winter with them; but it was very lonesome for +her, and she began to be home-sick for Middlemount. They saw it and +considered it. "They ah' the best people, Miss Milray!" she said, and +her voice, which was firm when she spoke of her husband, broke in the +words of minor feeling. Besides being a little homesick, she ended, she +was not willing to live on there, doing nothing for herself, and so she +had come back. + +"And you are here, doing just what you planned when you talked your life +over with me in Venice!" + +"Yes, but life isn't eva just what we plan it to be, Miss Milray." + +"Ah, don't I know it!" + +Clementina surprised Miss Milray by adding, "In a great many things-- +I don't know but in most--it's better. I don't complain of mine"-- + +"You poor child! You never complained of anything--not even of Mrs. +Lander!" + +"But it's different from what I expected; and it's--strange." + +"Yes; life is very strange." + +"I don't mean-losing him. That had to be. I can see, now, that it had +to be almost from the beginning. It seems to me that I knew it had to be +from the fust minute I saw him in New Yo'k; but he didn't, and I am glad +of that. Except when he was getting wohse, he always believed he should +get well; and he was getting well, when he"-- + +Miss Milray did not violate the pause she made with any question, though +it was apparent that Clementina had something on her mind that she wished +to say, and could hardly say of herself. + +She began again, "I was glad through everything that I could live with +him so long. If there is nothing moa, here or anywhe'a, that was +something. But it is strange. Sometimes it doesn't seem as if it had +happened." + +"I think I can understand, Clementina." + +"I feel sometimes as if I hadn't happened myself." She stopped, with a +patient little sigh, and passed her hand across the child's forehead, +in a mother's fashion, and smoothed her hair from it, bending over to +look down into her face. "We think she has her fatha's eyes," she said. + +"Yes, she has," Miss Milray assented, noting the upward slant of the +child's eyes, which gave his quaintness to her beauty. "He had +fascinating eyes." + +After a moment Clementina asked, "Do you believe that the looks are all +that ah' left?" + +Miss Milray reflected. "I know what you mean. I should say character +was left, and personality--somewhere." + +"I used to feel as if it we'e left here, at fust--as if he must come +back. But that had to go." + +"Yes." + +"Everything seems to go. After a while even the loss of him seemed to +go." + +"Yes, losses go with the rest." + +"That's what I mean by its seeming as if it never any of it happened. +Some things before it are a great deal more real." + +"Little things?" + +"Not exactly. But things when I was very young." Miss Milray did not +know quite what she intended, but she knew that Clementina was feeling +her way to something she wanted to say, and she let her alone. "When it +was all over, and I knew that as long as I lived he would be somewhere +else, I tried to be paht of the wo'ld I was left in. Do you think that +was right?" + +"It was wise; and, yes, it was best," said Miss Milray, and for relief +from the tension which was beginning to tell upon her own nerves, she +asked, "I suppose you know about my poor brother? I'd better tell you to +keep you from asking for Mrs. Milray, though I don't know that it's so +very painful with him. There isn't any Mrs. Milray now," she added, and +she explained why. + +Neither of them cared for Mrs. Milray, and they did not pretend to be +concerned about her, but Clementina said, vaguely, as if in recognition +of Mrs. Milray's latest experiment, "Do you believe in second marriages?" + +Miss Milray laughed, "Well, not that kind exactly." + +"No," Clementina assented, and she colored a little. + +Miss Milray was moved to add, "But if you mean another kind, I don't see +why not. My own mother was married twice." + +"Was she?" Clementina looked relieved and encouraged, but she did not say +any more at once. Then she asked, "Do you know what ever became of Mr. +Belsky?" + +"Yes. He's taken his title again, and gone back to live in Russia; he's +made peace with the Czar; I believe." + +"That's nice," said Clementina; and Miss Milray made bold to ask: + +"And what has become of Mr. Gregory?" + +Clementina answered, as Miss Milray thought, tentatively and obliquely: +"You know his wife died." + +"No, I never knew that she lived." + +"Yes. They went out to China, and she died the'a." + +"And is he there yet? But of course! He could never have given up being +a missionary." + +"Well," said Clementina, " he isn't in China. His health gave out, and +he had to come home. He's in-Middlemount Centa." + +Miss Milray suppressed the "Oh!" that all but broke from her lips. +"Preaching to the heathen, there?" she temporized. + +"To the summa folks," Clementina explained, innocent of satire. "They +have got a Union Chapel the'a, now, and Mr. Gregory has been preaching +all summa." There seemed nothing more that Miss Milray could prompt her +to say, but it was not quite with surprise that she heard Clementina +continue, as if it were part of the explanation, and followed from the +fact she had stated, "He wants me to marry him." + +Miss Milray tried to emulate her calm in asking, "And shall you?" + +"I don't know. I told him I would see; he only asked me last night. It +would be kind of natural. He was the fust. You may think it is +strange"-- + +Miss Milray, in the superstition of her old-maidenhood concerning love, +really thought it cold-blooded and shocking; but she said, "Oh, no." + +Clementina resumed: "And he says that if it was right for me to stop +caring for him when I did, it is right now for me to ca'e for him again, +where the'e's no one to be hu't by it. Do you think it is?" + +"Yes; why not?" Miss Milray was forced to the admission against what she +believed the finer feelings 'of her nature. + +Clementina sighed, "I suppose he's right. I always thought he was good. +Women don't seem to belong very much to themselves in this wo'ld, do +they?" + +"No, they seem to belong to the men, either because they want the men, or +the men want them; it comes to the same thing. I suppose you don't wish +me to advise you, my dear?" + +"No. I presume it's something I've got to think out for myself." + +"But I think he's good, too. I ought to say that much, for I didn't +always stand his friend with you. If Mr. Gregory has any fault it's +being too scrupulous." + +"You mean, about that old trouble--our not believing just the same?" +Miss Milray meant something much more temperamental than that, but she +allowed Clementina to limit her meaning, and Clementina went on. +"He's changed all round now. He thinks it's all in the life. He says +that in China they couldn't understand what he believed, but they could +what he lived. And he knows I neva could be very religious." + +It was in Miss Milray's heart to protest, " Clementina, I think you are +one of the most religious persons I ever knew," but she forebore, because +the praise seemed to her an invasion of Clementina's dignity. She merely +said, "Well, I am glad he is one of those who grow more liberal as they +grow older. That is a good sign for your happiness. But I dare say it's +more of his happiness you think." + +"Oh, I should like to be happy, too. There would be no sense in it if I +wasn't." + +"No, certainly not." + +"Miss Milray," said Clementina, with a kind of abruptness, "do you eva +hear anything from Dr. Welwright?" + +"No! Why?" Miss Milray fastened her gaze vividly upon her. + +"Oh, nothing. He wanted me to promise him, there in Venice, too." + +"I didn't know it." + +"Yes. But--I couldn't, then. And now--he's written to me. He wants me +to let him come ova, and see me." + +"And--and will you?" asked Miss Milray, rather breathlessly. + +"I don't know. I don't know as I'd ought. I should like to see him, so +as to be puffectly su'a. But if I let him come, and then didn't-- It +wouldn't be right! I always felt as if I'd ought to have seen then that +he ca'ed for me, and stopped him; but I didn't. No, I didn't," she +repeated, nervously. "I respected him, and I liked him; but I neva"-- +She stopped, and then she asked, "What do you think I'd ought to do, Miss +Milray?" + +Miss Milray hesitated. She was thinking superficially that she had never +heard Clementina say had ought, so much, if ever before. Interiorly she +was recurring to a sense of something like all this before, and to the +feeling which she had then that Clementina was really cold-blooded and +self-seeking. But she remembered that in her former decision, Clementina +had finally acted from her heart and her conscience, and she rose from +her suspicion with a rebound. She dismissed as unworthy of Clementina +any theory which did not account for an ideal of scrupulous and unselfish +justice in her. + +"That is something that nobody can say but yourself, Clementina," she +answered, gravely. + +"Yes," sighed Clementina, "I presume that is so." + +She rose, and took her little girl from Miss Milray's knee. "Say good- +bye," she bade, looking tenderly down at her. + +Miss Milray expected the child to put up her lips to be kissed. But she +let go her mother's hand, took her tiny skirts between her finger-tips, +and dropped a curtsey. + +"You little witch!" cried Miss Milray. "I want a hug," and she crushed +her to her breast, while the child twisted her face round and anxiously +questioned her mother's for her approval. "Tell her it',s all right, +Clementina!" cried Miss Milray. "When she's as old as you were in +Florence, I'm going to make you give her to me." + +"Ah' you going back to Florence?" asked Clementina, provisionally. + +"Oh, no! You can't go back to anything. That's what makes New York so +impossible. I think we shall go to Los Angeles." + + + + +XL. + +On her way home Clementina met a man walking swiftly forward. A sort of +impassioned abstraction expressed itself in his gait and bearing. They +had both entered the shadow of the deep pine woods that flanked the way +on either side, and the fallen needles helped with the velvety summer +dust of the roadway to hush their steps from each other. She saw him far +off, but he was not aware of her till she was quite near him. + +"Oh!" he said, with a start. "You filled my mind so full that I couldn't +have believed you were anywhere outside of it. I was coming to get you-- +I was coming to get my answer." + +Gregory had grown distinctly older. Sickness and hardship had left +traces in his wasted face, but the full beard he wore helped to give him +an undue look of age. + +"I don't know," said Clementina, slowly, "as I've got an answa fo' you, +Mr. Gregory--yet." + +"No answer is better that the one I am afraid of!" + +"Oh, I'm not so sure of that," she said, with gentle perplexity, as she +stood, holding the hand of her little girl, who stared shyly at the +intense face of the man before her. + +"I am," he retorted. "I have been thinking it all ever, Clementina. +I've tried not to think selfishly about it, but I can't pretend that my +wish isn't selfish. It is! I want you for myself, and because I've +always wanted you, and not for any other reason. I never cared for any +one but you in the way I cared for you, and"-- + +"Oh!" she grieved. "I never ca'ed at all for you after I saw him." + +"I know it must be shocking to you; I haven't told you with any wretched +hope that it would commend me to you!" + +"I don't say it was so very bad," said Clementina, reflectively, "if it +was something you couldn't help." + +"It was something I couldn't help. Perhaps I didn't try ." + +"Did-she know it?" + +"She knew it from the first; I told her before we were married." + +Clementina drew back a little, insensibly pulling her child with her. +"I don't believe I exactly like it." + +"I knew you wouldn't ! If I could have thought you would, I hope I +shouldn't have wished--and feared--so much to tell you." + +"Oh, I know you always wanted to do what you believed was right, Mr. +Gregory," she answered. "But I haven't quite thought it out yet. You +mustn't hurry me." + +"No, no! Heaven forbid." He stood aside to let her pass. + +"I was just going home," she added. + +"May I go with you?" + +"Yes, if you want to. I don't know but you betta; we might as well; +I want to talk with you. Don't you think it's something we ought to talk +about-sensibly?" + +"Why, of course! And I shall try to be guided by you; I should always +submit to be ruled by you, if"-- + +"That's not what I mean, exactly . I don't want to do the ruling. You +don't undastand me." + +"I'm afraid I don't," he assented, humbly. + +"If you did, you wouldn't say that--so." He did not venture to make any +answer, and they walked on without speaking, till she asked, "Did you +know that Miss Milray was at the Middlemount?" + +"Miss Milray! Of Florence?" + +"With her brother. I didn't see him; Mrs. Milray is not he'a; they ah' +divo'ced. Miss Milray used to be very nice to me in Florence. She isn't +going back there any moa. She says you can't go back to anything. +Do you think we can?" + +She had left moments between her incoherent sentences where he might +interrupt her if he would, but he waited for her question. "I hoped we +might; but perhaps"-- + +"No, no. We couldn't. We couldn't go back to that night when you threw +the slippas into the riva, no' to that time in Florence when we gave up, +no' to that day in Venice when I had to tell you that I ca'ed moa fo' +some one else. Don't you see?" + +"Yes, I see," he said, in quick revulsion from the hope he had expressed. +"The past is full of the pain and shame of my errors!" + +"I don't want to go back to what's past, eitha," she reasoned, without +gainsaying him. + +She stopped again, as if that were all, and he asked, "Then is that my +answer?" + +"I don't believe that even in the otha wo'ld we shall want to go back to +the past, much, do you?" she pursued, thoughtfully. + +Once Gregory would have answered confidently; he even now checked an +impulse to do so. "I don't know," he owned, meekly. + +"I do like you, Mr. Gregory!" she relented, as if touched by his +meekness, to the confession. "You know I do--moa than I ever expected to +like anybody again. But it's not because I used to like you, or because +I think you always acted nicely. I think it was cruel of you, if you +ca'ed for me, to let me believe you didn't, afta that fust time. I can't +eva think it wasn't, no matta why you did it." + +"It was atrocious. I can see that now." + +"I say it, because I shouldn't eva wish to say it again. I know that all +the time you we'e betta than what you did, and I blame myself a good deal +moa fo' not knowing when you came to Florence that I had begun to ca'e +fo'some one else. But I did wait till I could see you again, so as to be +su'a which I ca'ed for the most. I tried to be fai'a, before I told +you that I wanted to be free. That is all," she said, gently, and +Gregory perceived that the word was left definitely to him. + +He could not take it till he had disciplined himself to accept +unmurmuringly his sentence as he understood it. "At any rate," he began, +"I can thank you for rating my motive above my conduct." + +"Oh," she said. "I don't think either of us acted very well. I didn't +know till aftawa'ds that I was glad to have you give up, the way you did +in Florence. I was--bewild'ed. But I ought to have known, and I want +you to undastand everything, now. I don't ca'e for you because I used to +when I was almost a child, and I shouldn't want you to ca'e for me eitha, +because you did then. That's why I wish you had neva felt that you had +always ca'ed fo' me." + +"Yes," said Gregory. He let fall his head in despair. + +"That is what I mean," said Clementina. "If we ah' going to begin +togetha, now, it's got to be as if we had neva begun before. And you +mustn't think, or say, or look as if the'e had been anything in oua lives +but ouaselves. Will you? Do you promise?" She stopped, and put her +hand on his breast, and pushed against it with a nervous vehemence. + +"No!" he said. "I don't promise, for I couldn't keep my promise. What +you ask is impossible. The past is part of us; it can't be ignored any +more than it can be destroyed. If we take each other, it must be for all +that we have been as well as all that we are. If we haven't the courage +for that we must part." + +He dropped the little one's hand which he had been holding, and moved a +few steps aside. "Don't!" she said. "They'll think I've made you," and +he took the child's hand again. + +They had emerged from the shadow of the woods, and come in sight of her +father's house. Claxon was standing coatless before the door in full +enjoyment of the late afternoon air; his wife beside him, at sight of +Gregory, quelled a natural impulse to run round the corner of the house +from the presence of strangers. + +"I wonda what they'a sayin'," she fretted. + +"It looks some as if she was sayin' yes," said Claxon, with an impersonal +enjoyment of his conjecture. "I guess she saw he was bound not to take +no for an answa." + +"I don't know as I should like it very much," his wife relucted. +"Clem's doin' very well, as it is. She no need to marry again." + +"Oh, I guess it a'n't that altogetha. He's a good man." Claxon mused a +moment upon the figures which had begun to advance again, with the little +one between them, and then gave way in a burst of paternal pride, "And I +don't know as I should blame him so very much for wantin' Clem. She +always did want to be of moa use--But I guess she likes him too." + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +Didn't reason about their beliefs, but only argued . . . . . . . . . . . +Dull, cold self-absorption . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Everything seems to go . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Gift of waiting for things to happen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +He's so resting. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +It's the best that he doesn't seem prepared for. . . . . . . . . . . . . +Life alone is credible to the young. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Morbid egotism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Motives lie nearer the surface than most people commonly pretend . . . . +One time where one may choose safest what one likes best . . . . . . . . +Only man I ever saw who would know how to break the fall!. . . . . . . . +Real artistocracy is above social prejudice. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Singleness of a nature that was all pose . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Submitted, as people always do with the trials of others . . . . . . . . +Sunny gayety of self-forgetfulness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Understood when I've said something that doesn't mean anything . . . . . +We change whether we ought, or not . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +When she's really sick, she's better . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Willing that she should do herself a wrong . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +Women don't seem to belong very much to themselves . . . . . . . . . . . +You can't go back to anything. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +You were not afraid, and you were not bold; you were just right. . . . . + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Ragged Lady, V2, by W. D. Howells + diff --git a/old/wh2rl10.zip b/old/wh2rl10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1616df6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/wh2rl10.zip diff --git a/old/wh2rl11.txt b/old/wh2rl11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..64d1967 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/wh2rl11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6718 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Ragged Lady, by W. D. Howells, v2 +#52 in our series by William Dean Howells + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!!!! + +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. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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The clerk knew +her, and shook hands with her across the register, and said she could +have her old rooms if she wanted them; the bell-boy who took up their +hand-baggage recalled himself to her; the elevator-boy welcomed her with +a smile of remembrance. + +Since she was already up, from coming off the sleeping-car, she had no +excuse for not going to breakfast like other people; and she went with +Clementina to the dining-room, where the head-waiter, who found them +places, spoke with an outlandish accent, and the waiter who served them +had a parlance that seemed superficially English, but was inwardly +something else; there was even a touch in the cooking of the familiar +dishes, that needed translation for the girl's inexperienced palate. +She was finding a refuge in the strangeness of everything, when she was +startled by the sound of a familiar voice calling, "Clementina Claxon! +Well, I was sure all along it was you, and I determined I wouldn't stand +it another minute. Why, child, how you have changed! Why, I declare you +are quite a woman! When did you come? How pretty you are Mrs. Milray +took Clementina in her arms and kissed her in proof of her admiration +before the whole breakfast room. She was very nice to Mrs. Lander, too, +who, when Clementina introduced them, made haste to say that Clementina +was there on a visit with her. Mrs. Milray answered that she envied her +such a visitor as Miss Claxon, and protested that she should steal her +away for a visit to herself, if Mr. Milray was not so much in love with +her that it made her jealous. "Mr. Milray has to have his breakfast in +his room," she explained to Clementina. "He's not been so well, since he +lost his mother. Yes," she said, with decorous solemnity, "I'm still in +mourning for her," and Clementina saw that she was in a tempered black. +"She died last year, and now I'm taking Mr. Milray abroad to see if it +won't cheer him up a little. Are you going South for the winter?" she +inquired, politely, of Mrs. Lander. "I wish I was going," she said, when +Mrs. Lander guessed they should go, later on. "Well, you must come in +and see me all you can, Clementina; and I shall have the pleasure of +calling upon you," she added to Mrs. Lander with state that was lost in +the soubrette-like volatility of her flight from them the next moment. +"Goodness, I forgot all about Mr. Milray's breakfast! "She ran back to +the table she had left on the other side of the room. + +"Who is that, Clementina?" asked Mrs. Lander, on their way to their +rooms. Clementina explained as well as she could, and Mrs. Lander summed +up her feeling in the verdict, "Well, she's a lady, if ever I saw a lady; +and you don't see many of 'em, nowadays." + +The girl remembered how Mrs. Milray had once before seemed very fond of +her, and had afterwards forgotten the pretty promises and professions she +had made her. But she went with Mrs. Lander to see her, and she saw Mr. +Milray, too, for a little while. He seemed glad of their meeting, but +still depressed by the bereavement which Mrs. Milray supported almost +with gayety. When he left them she explained that he was a good deal +away from her, with his family, as she approved of his being, though she +had apparently no wish to join him in all the steps of the reconciliation +which the mother's death had brought about among them. Sometimes his +sisters came to the hotel to see her, but she amused herself perfectly +without them, and she gave much more of her leisure to Clementina and +Mrs. Lander. + +She soon knew the whole history of the relation between them, and the +first time that Clementina found her alone with Mrs. Lander she could +have divined that Mrs. Lander had been telling her of the Fane affair, +even if Mrs. Milray had not at once called out to her, "I know all about +it; and I'll tell you what, Clementina, I'm going to take you over with +me and marry you to an English Duke. Mrs. Lander and I have been +planning it all out, and I'm going to send down to the steamer office, +and engage your passage. It's all settled!" + +When she was gone, Mfrs. Lander asked, "What do you s'pose your folks +would say to your goin' to Europe, anyway, Clementina?" as if the matter +had been already debated between them. + +Clementina hesitated. "I should want to be su'a Mrs. Milray really +wanted me to go ova with her." + +"Why, didn't you hear her say so?" demanded Mrs. Lander. + +"Yes," sighed Clementina. "Mrs. Lander, I think Mrs. Milray means what +she says, at the time, but she is one that seems to forget." + +"She thinks the wo'ld of you," Mrs. Lander urged. + +"She was very nice to me that summer at Middlemount. I guess maybe she +would like to have us go with her," the girl relented. + +"I guess we'll wait and see," said Mrs. Lander. "I shouldn't want she +should change her mind when it was too late, as you say." They were both +silent for a time, and then Mrs. Lander resumed, "But I presume she +ha'n't got the only steams that's crossin'. What should you say about +goin' over on some otha steams? I been South a good many wintas, and I +should feel kind of lonesome goin' round to the places where I been with +Mr. Landa. I felt it since I been here in this hotel, some, and I can't +seem to want to go ova the same ground again, well, not right away." + +Clementina said, "Why, of cou'se, Mrs. Landa." + +"Should you be willin'," asked Mrs. Lander, after another little pause, +"if your folks was willin', to go ova the'a, to some of them European +countries, to spend the winta?" + +"Oh yes, indeed!" said Clementina. + +They discussed the matter in one of the full talks they both liked. At +the end Mrs. Lander said, "Well, I guess you betta write home, and ask +your motha whetha you can go, so't if we take the notion we can go any +time. Tell her to telegraph, if she'll let you, and do write all the ifs +and ands, so't she'll know just how to answa, without havin' to have you +write again." + +That evening Mrs. Milray came to their table from where she had been +dining alone, and asked in banter: "Well, have you made up your minds to +go over with me?" + +Mrs. Lander said bluntly, "We can't ha'dly believe yon really want us to, +Mrs. Milray." + +"I don't want you? Who put such an idea into your head! Oh, I know!" +She threatened Clementina with the door-key, which she was carrying in +her hand. "It was you, was it? What an artful, suspicious thing! +What's got into you, child? Do you hate me?" She did not give +Clementina time to protest. "Well, now, I can just tell you I do want +you, and I'll be quite heart-broken if you don't come." + +"Well, she wrote to her friends this mohning," Mrs. Lander said, "but I +guess she won't git an answa in time for youa steamer, even if they do +let her go." + +"Oh, yes she will," Mrs. Milray protested. "It's all right, now; you've +got to go, and there's no use trying to get out of it." + +She came to them whenever she could find them in the dining-room, and she +knocked daily at their door till she knew that Clementina had heard from +home. The girl's mother wrote, without a punctuation mark in her letter, +but with a great deal of sense, that such a thing as her going to Europe +could not be settled by telegraph. She did not think it worth while to +report all the facts of a consultation with the rector which they had +held upon getting Clementina's request, and which had renewed all the +original question of her relations with Mrs. Lander in an intensified +form. He had disposed of this upon much the same terms as before; and +they had yielded more readily because the experiment had so far +succeeded. Clementina had apparently no complaint to make of Mrs. +Lander; she was eager to go, and the rector and his wife, who had been +invited to be of the council, were both of the opinion that a course of +European travel would be of the greatest advantage to the girl, if she +wished to fit herself for teaching. It was an opportunity that they must +not think of throwing away. If Mrs. Lander went to Florence, as it +seemed from Clementina's letter she thought of doing, the girl would pass +a delightful winter in study of one of the most interesting cities in the +world, and she would learn things which would enable her to do better for +herself when she came home than she could ever hope to do otherwise. She +might never marry, Mr. Richling suggested, and it was only right and fair +that she should be equipped with as much culture as possible for the +struggle of life; Mrs. Richling agreed with this rather vague theory, but +she was sure that Clementina would get married to greater advantage in +Florence than anywhere else. They neither of them really knew anything +at first hand about Florence; the rector's opinion was grounded on the +thought of the joy that a sojourn in Italy would have been to him; his +wife derived her hope of a Florentine marriage for Clementina from +several romances in which love and travel had gone hand in hand, to the +lasting credit of triumphant American girlhood. + +The Claxons were not able to enter into their view of the case, but if +Mrs. Lander wanted to go to Florence instead of Florida they did not see +why Clementina should not go with her to one place as well as the other. +They were not without a sense of flattery from the fact that their +daughter was going to Europe; but they put that as far from them as they +could, the mother severely and the father ironically, as something too +silly, and they tried not to let it weigh with them in making up their +mind, but to consider only Clementina's best good, and not even to regard +her pleasure. Her mother put before her the most crucial questions she +could think of, in her letter, and then gave her full leave from her +father as well as herself to go if she wished. + +Clementina had rather it had been too late to go with the Milrays, but +she felt bound to own her decision when she reached it; and Mrs. Milray, +whatever her real wish was, made it a point of honor to help get Mrs. +Lander berths on her steamer. It did not require much effort; there are +plenty of berths for the latest-comers on a winter passage, and +Clementina found herself the fellow passenger of Mrs. Milray. + + + + +XVI. + +As soon as Mrs. Lander could make her way to her state-room, she got into +her berth, and began to take the different remedies for sea-sickness +which she had brought with her. Mrs. Milray said that was nice, and that +now she and Clementina could have a good tune. But before it came to +that she had taken pity on a number of lonely young men whom she found on +board. She cheered them up by walking round the ship with them; but if +any of them continued dull in spite of this, she dropped him, and took +another; and before she had been two days out she had gone through with +nearly all the lonely young men on the list of cabin passengers. She +introduced some of them to Clementina, but at such times as she had them +in charge; and for the most part she left her to Milray. Once, as the +girl sat beside him in her steamer-chair, Mrs. Milray shed a wrap on his +knees in whirring by on the arm of one of her young men, with some +laughed and shouted charge about it. + +"What did she say?" he asked Clementina, slanting the down-pulled brim +of his soft hat purblindly toward her. + +She said she had not understood, and then Milray asked, "What sort of +person is that Boston youth of Mrs. Milray's? Is he a donkey or a lamb?" + +Clementina said ingenuously, "Oh, she's walking with that English +gentleman now--that lo'd." + +"Ah, yes," said Milray. "He's not very much to look at, I hear." + +"Well, not very much," Clementina admitted; she did not like to talk +against people. + +"Lords are sometimes disappointing, Clementina," Milray said, "but then, +so are other great men. I've seen politicians on our side who were +disappointing, and there are clergymen and gamblers who don't look it." +He laughed sadly. "That's the way people talk who are a little +disappointing themselves. I hope you don't expect too much of yourself, +Clementina?" + +"I don't know what you mean," she said, stiffening with a suspicion that +he might be going to make fun of her. + +He laughed more gayly. "Well, I mean we must hold the other fellows up +to their duty, or we can't do our own. We need their example. Charity +may begin at home, but duty certainly begins abroad." He went on, as if +it were a branch of the same inquiry, "Did you ever meet my sisters? +They came to the hotel in New York to see Mrs. Milray." + +"Yes, I was in the room once when they came in." + +"Did you like them?" + +"Yes--I sca'cely spoke to them--I only stayed a moment." + +"Would you like to see any more of the family?" + +"Why, of cou'se!" Clementina was amused at his asking, but he seemed in +earnest. + +"One of my sisters lives in Florence, and Mrs. Milray says you think of +going there, too." + +"Mrs. Landa thought it would be a good place to spend the winter. Is it +a pleasant place?" + +"Oh, delightful! Do you know much about Italy?" + +"Not very much, I don't believe." + +"Well, my sister has lived a good while in Florence. I should like to +give you a letter to her." + +"Oh, thank you!" said Clementina. + +Milray smiled at her spare acknowledgment, but inquired gravely: "What do +you expect to do in Florence?" + +"Why, I presume, whateva Mrs. Landa wants to do." + +"Do you think Mrs. Lander will want to go into society?" + +This question had not occurred to Clementina. "I don't believe she +will," she said, thoughtfully. + +"Shall you?" + +Clementina laughed, "Why, do you think," she ventured, "that society +would want me to?" + +"Yes, I think it would, if you're as charming as you've tried to make me +believe. Oh, I don't mean, to your own knowledge; but some people have +ways of being charming without knowing it. If Mrs. Lander isn't going +into society, and there should be a way found for you to go, don't +refuse, will you?" + +"I shall wait and see if I'm asked, fust." + +"Yes, that will be best," said Milray. "But I shall give you a letter to +my sister. She and I used to be famous cronies, and we went to a great +many parties together when we were young people. We thought the world +was a fine thing, then. But it changes." + +He fell into a muse, and they were both sitting quite silent when Mrs. +Milray came round the corner of the music room in the course of her +twentieth or thirtieth compass of the deck, and introduced her lord to +her husband and to Clementina. He promptly ignored Milray, and devoted +himself to the girl, leaning over her with his hand against the bulkhead +behind her and talking down upon her. + +Lord Lioncourt must have been about thirty, but he had the heated and +broken complexion of a man who has taken more than is good for him in +twice that number of years. This was one of the wrongs nature had done +him in apparent resentment of the social advantages he was born to, for +he was rather abstemious, as Englishmen go. He looked a very shy person +till he spoke, and then you found that he was not in the least shy. He +looked so English that you would have expected a strong English accent of +him, but his speech was more that of an American, without the nasality. +This was not apparently because he had been much in America; he was +returning from his first visit to the States, which had been spent +chiefly in the Territories; after a brief interval of Newport he had +preferred the West; he liked rather to hunt than to be hunted, though +even in the West his main business had been to kill time, which he found +more plentiful there than other game. The natives, everywhere, were much +the same thing to him; if he distinguished it was in favor of those who +did not suppose themselves cultivated. If again he had a choice it was +for the females; they seemed to him more amusing than the males, who +struck him as having an exaggerated reputation for humor. He did not +care much for Clementina's past, as he knew it from Mrs. Milray, and if +it did not touch his fancy, it certainly did not offend his taste. A +real artistocracy is above social prejudice, when it will; he had known +some of his order choose the mothers of their heirs from the music halls, +and when it came to a question of distinctions among Americans, he could +not feel them. They might be richer or poorer; but they could not be +more patrician or more plebeian. + +The passengers, he told Clementina, were getting up, at this point of the +ship's run, an entertainment for the benefit of the seaman's hospital in +Liverpool, that well-known convention of ocean-travel, which is sure at +some time or other, to enlist all the talent on board every English +steamer in some sort of public appeal. He was not very clear how he came +to be on the committee for drumming up talent for the occasion; his +distinction seemed to have been conferred by a popular vote in the +smoking room, as nearly as he could make out; but here he was, and he was +counting upon Miss Claxon to help him out. He said Mrs. Milray had told +him about that charming affair they had got up in the mountains, and he +was sure they could have something of the kind again. "Perhaps not a +coaching party; that mightn't be so easy to manage at sea. But isn't +there something else--some tableaux or something? If we couldn't have +the months of the year we might have the points of the compass, and you +could take your choice." + +He tried to get something out of the notion, but nothing came of it that +Mrs. Milray thought possible. She said, across her husband, on whose +further side she had sunk into a chair, that they must have something +very informal; everybody must do what they could, separately. "I know +you can do anything you like, Clementina. Can't you play something, or +sing?" At Clementina's look of utter denial, she added, desperately, +"Or dance something? "A light came into the girl's face at which she +caught. "I know you can dance something! Why, of course! Now, what is +it?" + +Clementina smiled at her vehemence. "Why, it's nothing. And I don't +know whether I should like to." + +"Oh, yes," urged Lord Lioncourt. "Such a good cause, you know." + +"What is it?" Mrs. Milray insisted. "Is it something you could do +alone?" + +"It's just a dance that I learned at Woodlake. The teacha said that all +the young ladies we'e leaning it. It's a skut-dance"-- + +"The very thing!" Mrs. Milray shouted. "It'll be the hit of the +evening." + +"But I've never done it before any one," Clementina faltered. + +"They'll all be doing their turns," the Englishman said. "Speaking, and +singing, and playing." + +Clementina felt herself giving way, and she pleaded in final reluctance, +"But I haven't got a pleated skut in my steama trunk." + +"No matter! We can manage that." Mrs. Milray jumped to her feet and +took Lord Lioncourt's arm. "Now we must go and drum up somebody else." +He did not seem eager to go, but he started. "Then that's all settled," +she shouted over her shoulder to Clementina. + +"No, no, Mrs. Milray! "Clementina called after her. "The ship tilts +so"-- + +"Nonsense! It's the smoothest run she ever made in December. And I'll +engage to have the sea as steady as a rock for you. Remember, now, +you've promised." + +Mrs. Milray whirled her Englishman away, and left Clementina sitting +beside her husband. + +"Did you want to dance for them, Clementina?" he asked. + +"I don't know," she said, with the vague smile of one to whom a pleasant +hope has occurred. + +"I thought perhaps you were letting Mrs. Milray bully you into it. She's +a frightful tyrant." + +"Oh, I guess I should like to do it, if you think it would be--nice." + +"I dare say it will be the nicest thing at their ridiculous show." +Milray laughed as if her willingness to do the dance had defeated a +sentimental sympathy in him. + +"I don't believe it will be that," said Clementina, beaming joyously. +"But I guess I shall try it, if I can find the right kind of a dress." + +"Is a pleated skirt absolutely necessary," asked Milray, gravely. + +"I don't see how I could get on without it," said Clementina. + +She was so serious still when she went down to her state-room that Mrs. +Lander was distracted from her potential ailments to ask: "What is it, +Clementina?" + +"Oh, nothing. Mrs. Milray has got me to say that I would do something at +a concert they ah' going to have on the ship." She explained, "It's that +skut dance I learnt at Woodlake of Miss Wilson." + +"Well, I guess if you're worryin' about that you needn't to." + +"Oh, I'm not worrying about the dance. I was just thinking what I should +wear. If I could only get at the trunks!" + +"It won't make any matte what you wear," said Mrs. Lander. "It'll be the +greatest thing; and if 't wa'n't for this sea-sickness that I have to +keep fightin' off he'a, night and day, I should come up and see you +myself. You ah' just lovely in that dance, Clementina." + +"Do you think so, Mrs. Landa?" asked the girl, gratefully. "Well, Mr. +Milray didn't seem to think that I need to have a pleated skut. Any +rate, I'm going to look over my things, and see if I can't make something +else do." + + + + +XVII. + +The entertainment was to be the second night after that, and Mrs. Milray +at first took the whole affair into her own hands. She was willing to +let the others consult with her, but she made all the decisions, and she +became so prepotent that she drove Lord Lioncourt to rebellion in the +case of some theatrical people whom he wanted in the programme. He +wished her to let them feel that they were favoring rather than favored, +and she insisted that it should be quite the other way. She professed a +scruple against having theatrical people in the programme at all, which +she might not have felt if her own past had been different, and she spoke +with an abhorrence of the stage which he could by no means tolerate in +the case. She submitted with dignity when she could not help it. +Perhaps she submitted with too much dignity. Her concession verged upon +hauteur; and in her arrogant meekness she went back to another of her +young men, whom she began to post again as the companion of her +promenades. + +He had rather an anxious air in the enjoyment of the honor, but the +Englishman seemed unconscious of its loss, or else he chose to ignore it. +He frankly gave his leisure to Clementina, and she thought he was very +pleasant. There was something different in his way from that of any of +the other men she had met; something very natural and simple, a way of +being easy in what he was, and not caring whether he was like others or +not; he was not ashamed of being ignorant of anything he did not know, +and she was able to instruct him on some points. He took her quite +seriously when she told him about Middlemount, and how her family came to +settle there, and then how she came to be going to Europe with Mrs. +Lander. He said Mrs. Milray had spoken about it; but he had not +understood quite how it was before; and he hoped Mrs. Lander was coming +to the entertainment. + +He did not seem aware that Mrs. Milray was leaving the affair more and +more to him. He went forward with it and was as amiable with her as she +would allow. He was so amiable with everybody that he reconciled many +true Americans to his leadership, who felt that as nearly all the +passengers were Americans, the chief patron of the entertainment ought to +have been some distinguished American. The want of an American who was +very distinguished did something to pacify them; but the behavior of an +English lord who put on no airs was the main agency. When the night came +they filled the large music room of the 'Asia Minor', and stood about in +front of the sofas and chairs so many deep that it was hard to see or +hear through them. + +They each paid a shilling admittance; they were prepared to give +munificently besides when the hat came round; and after the first burst +of blundering from Lord Lioncourt, they led the magnanimous applause. +He said he never minded making a bad speech in a good cause, and he made +as bad a one as very well could be. He closed it by telling Mark Twain's +whistling story so that those who knew it by heart missed the paint; but +that might have been because he hurried it, to get himself out of the way +of the others following. When he had done, one of the most ardent of the +Americans proposed three cheers for him. + +The actress whom he had secured in spite of Mrs. Milray appeared in +woman's dress contrary to her inveterate professional habit, and followed +him with great acceptance in her favorite variety-stage song; and then +her husband gave imitations of Sir Henry Irving, and of Miss Maggie Kline +in "T'row him down, McCloskey," with a cockney accent. A frightened +little girl, whose mother had volunteered her talent, gasped a ballad to +her mother's accompaniment, and two young girls played a duet on the +mandolin and guitar. A gentleman of cosmopolitan military tradition, who +sold the pools in the smoking-room, and was the friend of all the men +present, and the acquaintance of several, gave selections of his +autobiography prefatory to bellowing in a deep bass voice, "They're +hanging Danny Deaver," and then a lady interpolated herself into the +programme with a kindness which Lord Lioncourt acknowledged, in saying +"The more the merrier," and sang Bonnie Dundee, thumping the piano out of +all proportion to her size and apparent strength. + +Some advances which Clementina had made for Mrs. Milray's help about the +dress she should wear in her dance met with bewildering indifference, and +she had fallen back upon her own devices. She did not think of taking +back her promise, and she had come to look forward to her part with a +happiness which the good weather and the even sway of the ship +encouraged. But her pulses fluttered, as she glided into the music room, +and sank into a chair next Mrs. Milray. She had on an accordion skirt +which she had been able to get out of her trunk in the hold, and she felt +that the glance of Mrs. Milray did not refuse it approval. + +"That will do nicely, Clementina," she said. She added, in careless +acknowledgement of her own failure to direct her choice, "I see you +didn't need my help after all," and the thorny point which Clementina +felt in her praise was rankling, when Lord Lioncourt began to introduce +her. + +He made rather a mess of it, but as soon as he came to an end of his +well-meant blunders, she stood up and began her poses and paces. It was +all very innocent, with something courageous as well as appealing. She +had a kind of tender dignity in her dance, and the delicate beauty of her +face translated itself into the grace of her movements. It was not +impersonal; there was her own quality of sylvan, of elegant in it; but it +was unconscious, and so far it was typical, it was classic; Mrs. Milray's +Bostonian achieved a snub from her by saying it was like a Botticelli; +and in fact it was merely the skirt-dance which society had borrowed from +the stage at that period, leaving behind the footlights its more +acrobatic phases, but keeping its pretty turns and bows and bends. +Clementina did it not only with tender dignity, but when she was fairly +launched in it, with a passion to which her sense of Mrs. Milray's +strange unkindness lent defiance. The dance was still so new a thing +then, that it had a surprise to which the girl's gentleness lent a +curious charm, and it had some adventitious fascinations from the +necessity she was in of weaving it in and out among the stationary +armchairs and sofas which still further cramped the narrow space where +she gave it. Her own delight in it shone from her smiling face, which +was appealingly happy. Just before it should have ended, one of those +wandering waves that roam the smoothest sea struck the ship, and +Clementina caught herself skilfully from falling, and reeled to her seat, +while the room rang with the applause and sympathetic laughter for the +mischance she had baffled. There was a storm of encores, but Clementina +called out, "The ship tilts so!" and her naivete won her another burst of +favor, which was at its height when Lord Lioncourt had an inspiration. + +He jumped up and said, "Miss Claxon is going to oblige us with a little +bit of dramatics, now, and I'm sure you'll all enjoy that quite as much +as her beautiful dancing. She's going to take the principal part in the +laughable after-piece of Passing round the Hat, and I hope the audience +will--a--a--a--do the rest. She's consented on this occasion to use a +hat--or cap, rather--of her own, the charming Tam O'Shanter in which +we've all seen her, and--a--admired her about the ship for the week +past." + +He caught up the flat woolen steamer-cap which Clementina had left in her +seat beside Mrs. Milray when she rose to dance, and held it aloft. Some +one called out, "Chorus! For he's a jolly good fellow," and led off in +his praise. Lord Lioncourt shouted through the uproar the announcement +that while Miss Claxon was taking up the collection, Mr. Ewins, of +Boston, would sing one of the student songs of Cambridge--no! Harvard-- +University; the music being his own. + +Everyone wanted to make some joke or some compliment to Clementina about +the cap which grew momently heavier under the sovereigns and half +sovereigns, half crowns and half dollars, shillings, quarters, greenbacks +and every fraction of English and American silver; and the actor who had +given the imitations, made bold, as he said, to ask his lordship if the +audience might not hope, before they dispersed, for something more from +Miss Claxon. He was sure she could do something more; he for one would +be glad of anything; and Clementina turned from putting her cap into Mrs. +Milray's lap, to find Lord Lioncourt bowing at her elbow, and offering +her his arm to lead her to the spot where she had stood in dancing. + +The joy of her triumph went to her head; she wished to retrieve herself +from any shadow of defeat. + +She stood panting a moment, and then, if she had had the professional +instinct, she would have given her admirers the surprise of something +altogether different from what had pleased them before. That was what +the actor would have done, but Clementina thought of how her dance had +been brought to an untimely close by the rolling of the ship; she burned +to do it all as she knew it, no matter how the sea behaved, and in +another moment she struck into it again. This time the sea behaved +perfectly, and the dance ended with just the swoop and swirl she had +meant it to have at first. The spectators went generously wild over her; +they cheered and clapped her, and crowded upon her to tell how lovely it +was; but she escaped from them, and ran back to the place where she had +left Mrs. Milray. She was not there, and Clementina's cap full of alms +lay abandoned on the chair. Lord Lioncourt said he would take charge of +the money, if she would lend him her cap to carry it in to the purser, +and she made her way into the saloon. In a distant corner she saw Mrs. +Milray with Mr. Ewins. + +She advanced in a vague dismay toward them, and as she came near Mrs. +Milray said to Mr. Ewins, "I don't like this place. Let's go over +yonder." She rose and rushed him to the other end of the saloon. + +Lord Lioncourt came in looking about. "Ah, have you found her?" he +asked, gayly. "There were twenty pounds in your cap, and two hundred +dollars." + +"Yes," said Clementina, "she's over the'a." She pointed, and then shrank +and slipped away. + + + + +XVIII. + +At breakfast Mrs. Milray would not meet Clementina's eye; she talked to +the people across the table in a loud, lively voice, and then suddenly +rose, and swept past her out of the saloon. + +The girl did not see her again till Mrs. Milray came up on the promenade +at the hour when people who have eaten too much breakfast begin to spoil +their appetite for luncheon with the tea and bouillon of the deck- +stewards. She looked fiercely about, and saw Clementina seated in her +usual place, but with Lord Lioncourt in her own chair next her husband, +and Ewins on foot before her. They were both talking to Clementina, whom +Lord Lioncourt was accusing of being in low spirits unworthy of her last +night's triumphs. He jumped up, and offered his place, "I've got your +chair, Mrs. Milray." + +"Oh, no," she said, coldly, "I was just coming to look after Mr. Milray. +But I see he's in good hands." + +She turned away, as if to make the round of the deck, and Ewins hurried +after her. He came back directly, and said that Mrs. Milray had gone +into the library to write letters. He stayed, uneasily, trying to talk, +but with the air of a man who has been snubbed, and has not got back his +composure. + +Lord Lioncourt talked on until he had used up the incidents of the night +before, and the probabilities of their getting into Queenstown before +morning; then he and Mr. Ewins went to the smoking-room together, and +Clementina was left alone with Milray. + +"Clementina," he said, gently, "I don't see everything; but isn't there +some trouble between you and Mrs. Milray?" + +"Why, I don't know what it can be," answered the girl, with trembling +lips. "I've been trying to find out, and I can't undastand it." + +"Ah, those things are often very obscure," said Milray, with a patient +smile. + +Clementina wanted to ask him if Mrs. Milray had said anything to him +about her, but she could not, and he did not speak again till he heard +her stir in rising from her chair. Then he said, "I haven't forgotten +that letter to my sister, Clementina. I will give it to you before we +leave the steamer. Are you going to stay in Liverpool, over night, or +shall you go up to London at once?" + +"I don't know. It will depend upon how Mrs. Landa feels." + +"Well, we shall see each other again. Don't be worried." He looked up +at her with a smile, and he could not see how forlornly she returned it. + +As the day passed, Mrs. Milray's angry eyes seemed to search her out for +scorn whenever Clementina found herself the centre of her last night's +celebrity. Many people came up and spoke to her, at first with a certain +expectation of knowingness in her, which her simplicity baffled. Then +they either dropped her, and went away, or stayed and tried to make +friends with her because of this; an elderly English clergyman and his +wife were at first compassionately anxious about her, and then +affectionately attentive to her in her obvious isolation. Clementina's +simple-hearted response to their advances appeared to win while it +puzzled them; and they seemed trying to divine her in the strange double +character she wore to their more single civilization. The theatrical +people thought none the worse of her for her simple-hearted ness, +apparently; they were both very sweet to her, and wanted her to promise +to come and see them in their little box in St. John's Wood. Once, +indeed, Clementina thought she saw relenting in Mrs. Milray's glance, but +it hardened again as Lord Lioncourt and Mr. Ewins came up to her, and +began to talk with her. She could not go to her chair beside Milray, for +his wife was now keeping guard of him on the other side with unexampled +devotion. Lord Lioncourt asked her to walk with him and she consented. +She thought that Mr. Ewins would go and sit by Mrs. Milray, of course, +but when she came round in her tour of the ship, Mrs. Milray was sitting +alone beside her husband. + +After dinner she went to the library and got a book, but she could not +read there; every chair was taken by people writing letters to send back +from Queenstown in the morning; and she strayed into the ladies' sitting +room, where no ladies seemed ever to sit, and lost herself in a miserable +muse over her open page. + +Some one looked in at the door, and then advanced within and came +straight to Clementina; she knew without looking up that it was Mrs. +Milray. "I have been hunting for you, Miss Claxon," she said, in a voice +frostily fierce, and with a bearing furiously formal. "I have a letter +to Miss Milray that my busband wished me to write for you, and give you +with his compliments." + +"Thank you," said Clementina. She rose mechanically to her feet, and at +the same time Mrs. Milray sat down. + +"You will find Miss Milray," she continued, with the same glacial +hauteur, "a very agreeable and cultivated lady." + +Clementina said nothing; and Mrs. Milray added, + +"And I hope she may have the happiness of being more useful to you than I +have." + +"What do you mean, Mrs. Milray? "Clementina asked with unexpected spirit +and courage. + +"I mean simply this, that I have not succeeded in putting you on your +guard against your love of admiration--especially the admiration of +gentlemen. A young girl can't be too careful how she accepts the +attentions of gentlemen, and if she seems to invite them--" + +"Mrs. Milray cried Clementina. "How can you say such a thing to me?" + +"How? I shall have to be plain with you, I see. Perhaps I have not +considered that, after all, you know nothing about life and are not to +blame for things that a person born and bred in the world would +understand from childhood. If you don't know already, I can tell you +that the way you have behaved with Lord Lioncourt during the last two or +three days, and the way you showed your pleasure the other night in his +ridiculous flatteries of you, was enough to make you the talk of the +whole steamer. I advise you for your own sake to take my warning in +time. You are very young, and inexperienced and ignorant, but that will +not save you in the eyes of the world if you keep on." Mrs. Milray rose. +"And now I will leave you to think of what I have said. Here is the +letter for Miss Milray--" + +Clementina shook her head. "I don't want it." + +"You don't want it? But I have written it at Mr. Milray's request, and I +shall certainly leave it with you!" + +"If you do," said Clementina, "I shall not take it!" + +"And what shall I say to Mr. Milray?" + +"What you have just said to me." + +"What have I said to you?" + +"That I'm a bold girl, and that I've tried to make men admi'a me." + +Mrs. Milray stopped as if suddenly daunted by a fact that had not +occurred to her before. "Did I say that?" + +"The same as that." + +"I didn't mean that--I--merely meant to put you on your guard. It may be +because you are so innocent yourself, that you can't imagine what others +think, and--I did it out of my regard for you." + +Clementina did not answer. + +Mrs. Milray went on, "That was why I was so provoked with you. I think +that for a young girl to stand up and dance alone before a whole steamer +full of strangers"--Clementina looked at her without speaking, and Mrs. +Milray hastened to say, "To be sure I advised you to do it, but I +certainly was surprised that you should give an encore. But no matter, +now. This letter--" + +"I can't take it, Mrs. Milray," said Clementina, with a swelling heart. + +"Now, listen!" urged Mrs. Milray. "You think I'm just saying it +because, if you don't take it I shall have to tell Mr. Milray I was so +hateful to you, you couldn't. Well, I should hate to tell him that; but +that isn't the reason. There!" She tore the letter in pieces, and threw +it on the floor. Clementina did not make any sign of seeing this, and +Mrs. Milray dropped upon her chair again. "Oh, how hard you are! Can't +you say something to me?" + +Clementina did not lift her eyes. "I don't feel like saying anything +just now." + +Mrs. Milray was silent a moment. Then she sighed. "Well, you may hate +me, but I shall always be your friend. What hotel are you going to in +Liverpool? + +"I don't know," said Clementina. + +"You had better come to the one where we go. I'm afraid Mrs. Lander +won't know how to manage very well, and we've been in Liverpool so often. +May I speak to her about it?" + +"If you want to," Clementina coldly assented. + +"I see!" said Mrs. Milray. "You don't want to be under the same roof +with me. Well, you needn't! But I'll tell you a good hotel: the one +that the trains start out of; and I'll send you that letter for Miss +Milray." Clemeutina was silent. "Well, I'll send it, anyway." + +Mrs. Milray went away in sudden tears, but the girl remained dry-eyed. + + + + +XIX. + +Mrs. Lander realized when the ship came to anchor in the stream at +Liverpool that she had not been seasick a moment during the voyage. In +the brisk cold of the winter morning, as they came ashore in the tug, she +fancied a property of health in the European atmosphere, which she was +sure would bring her right up, if she stayed long enough; and a regret +that she had never tried it with Mr. Lander mingled with her new hopes +for herself. + +But Clementina looked with home-sick eyes at the strangeness of the alien +scene: the pale, low heaven which seemed not to be clouded and yet was so +dim; the flat shores with the little railroad trains running in and out +over them; the grimy bulks of the city, and the shipping in the river, +sparse and sombre after the gay forest of sails and stacks at New York. + +She did not see the Milrays after she left the tug, in the rapid +dispersal of the steamer's passengers. They both took leave of her at +the dock, and Mrs. Milray whispered with penitence in her voice and eyes, +"I will write," but the girl did not answer. + +Before Mrs. Lander's trunks and her own were passed, she saw Lord +Lioncourt going away with his heavily laden man at his heels. Mr. Ewins +came up to see if he could help her through the customs, but she believed +that be had come at Mrs. Milray's bidding, and she thanked him so +prohibitively that he could not insist. The English clergyman who had +spoken to her the morning after the charity entertainment left his wife +with Mrs. Lander, and came to her help, and then Mr. Ewins went his way. + +The clergyman, who appeared to feel the friendlessness of the young girl +and the old woman a charge laid upon him, bestowed a sort of fatherly +protection upon them both. He advised them to stop at a hotel for a few +hours and take the later train for London that he and his wife were going +up by; they drove to the hotel together, where Mrs. Lander could not be +kept from paying the omnibus, and made them have luncheon with her. She +allowed the clergyman to get her tickets, and she could not believe that +be had taken second class tickets for himself and his wife. She said +that she had never heard of anyone travelling second class before, and +she assured him that they never did it in America. She begged him to let +her pay the difference, and bring his wife into her compartment, which +the guard had reserved for her. She urged that the money was nothing to +her, compared with the comfort of being with some one you knew; and the +clergyman had to promise that as they should be neighbors, he would look +in upon her, whenever the train stopped long enough. + +Before it began to move, Clementina thought she saw Lord Lioncourt +hurrying past their carriage-window. At Rugby the clergyman appeared, +but almost before he could speak, Lord Lioncourt's little red face showed +at his elbow. He asked Clementina to present him to Mrs. Lander, who +pressed him to get into her compartment; the clergyman vanished, and Lord +Lioncourt yielded. + +Mrs. Lander found him able to tell her the best way to get to Florence, +whose situation he seemed to know perfectly; he confessed that he had +been there rather often. He made out a little itinerary for going +straight through by sleeping-car as soon as you crossed the Channel; she +had said that she always liked a through train when she could get it, and +the less stops the better. She bade Clementina take charge of the plan +and not lose it; without it she did not see what they could do. She +conceived of him as a friend of Clementina's, and she lost in the strange +environment the shyness she had with most people. She told him how Mr. +Lander had made his money, and from what beginnings he rose to be +ignorant of what he really was worth when he died. She dwelt upon the +diseases they had suffered, and at the thought of his death, so +unnecessary in view of the good that the air was already doing her in +Europe, she shed tears. + +Lord Lioncourt was very polite, but there was no resumption of the ship's +comradery in his manner. Clementina could not know how quickly this +always drops from people who have been fellow-passengers; and she +wondered if he were guarding himself from her because she had danced at +the charity entertainment. The poison which Mrs. Milray had instilled +worked in her thoughts while she could not help seeing how patient he was +with all Mrs. Lander's questions; he answered them with a simplicity of +his own, or laughed and put them by, when they were quite impossible. +Many of them related to the comparative merits of English and American +railroads, and what he thought himself of these. Mrs. Lander noted the +difference of the English stations; but she did not see much in the +landscape to examine him upon. She required him to tell her why the +rooks they saw were not crows, and she was not satisfied that he should +say the country seat she pointed out was a castle when it was plainly +deficient in battlements. She based upon his immovable confidence in +respect to it an inquiry into the structure of English society, and she +made him tell her what a lord was, and a commoner, and how the royal +family differed from both. She asked him how he came to be a lord, and +when he said that it was a peerage of George the Third's creation, she +remembered that George III. was the one we took up arms against. She +found that Lord Lioncourt knew of our revolution generally, but was +ignorant of such particulars as the Battle of Bunker Hill, and the +Surrender of Cornwallis, as well as the throwing of the Tea into Boston +Harbor; he was much struck by this incident, and said, And quite right, +he was sure. + +He told Clementina that her friends the Milrays had taken the steamer for +London in the morning. He believed they were going to Egypt for the +winter. Cairo, he said, was great fun, and he advised Mrs. Lander, if +she found Florence a bit dull, to push on there. She asked if it was an +easy place to get to, and he assured her that it was very easy from +Italy. + +Mrs. Lander was again at home in her world of railroads and hotels; but +she confessed, after he left them at the next station, that she should +have felt more at home if he had been going on to London with them. She +philosophized him to the disadvantage of her own countrymen as much less +offish than a great many New York and Boston peuple. He had given her a +good opinion of the whole English nation; and the clergyman, who had been +so nice to them at Liverpool, confirmed her friendly impressions of +England by getting her a small omnibus at the station in London before he +got a cab for himself and his wife, and drove away to complete his own +journey on another road. She celebrated the omnibus as if it were an +effect of his goodness in her behalf. She admired its capacity for +receiving all their trunks, and saving the trouble and delay of the +express, which always vexed her so much in New York, and which had nearly +failed in getting her baggage to the steamer in time. + +The omnibus remained her chief association with London, for she decided +to take the first through train for Italy in the morning. She wished to +be settled, by which she meant placed in a Florentine hotel for the +winter. That lord, as she now began and always continued to call +Lioncourt, had first given her the name of the best little hotel in +Florence, but as it had neither elevator nor furnace heat in it, he +agreed in the end that it would not do for her, and mentioned the most +modern and expensive house on the Lungarno. He told her he did not think +she need telegraph for rooms; but she took this precaution before leaving +London, and was able to secure them at a price which seemed to her quite +as much as she would have had to pay for the same rooms at a first class +hotel on the Back Bay. + +The manager had reserved for her one of the best suites, which had just +been vacated by a Russian princess. "I guess you better cable to your +folks where you ah', Clementina," she said. "Because if you're +satisfied, I am, and I presume we sha'n't want to change as long as we +stay in Florence. My, but it's sightly! "She joined Clementina a +moment at the windows looking upon the Arno, and the hills beyond it. +"I guess you'll spend most of your time settin' at this winder, and I +sha'n't blame you." + +They had arrived late in the dull, soft winter afternoon. The landlord +led the way himself to their apartment, and asked if they would have +fire; a facchino came in and kindled roaring blazes on the hearths; at +the same time a servant lighted all the candles on the tables and +mantels. They both gracefully accepted the fees that Mrs. Lander made +Clementina give them; the facchino kissed the girl's hand. "My!" said +Mrs. Lander, "I guess you never had your hand kissed before." + +The hotel developed advantages which, if not those she was used to, were +still advantages. The halls were warmed by a furnace, and she came to +like the little logs burning in her rooms. In the care of her own fire, +she went back to the simple time of her life in the country, and chose to +kindle it herself when it died out, with the fagots of broom that blazed +up so briskly. + +In the first days of her stay she made inquiry for the best American +doctor in Florence; and she found him so intelligent that she at once put +her liver in his charge, with a history of her diseases and symptoms of +every kind. She told him that she was sure that he could have cured Mr. +Lander, if he had only had him in time; she exacted a new prescription +from him for herself, and made him order some quinine pills for +Clementina against the event of her feeling debilitated by the air of +Florence. + + + + +XX. + +In these first days a letter came to Clementina from Mrs. Lander's +banker, enclosing the introduction which Mrs. Milray had promised to her +sister-in-law. It was from Mr. Milray, as before, and it was in Mrs. +Milray's handwriting; but no message from her came with it. To +Clementina it explained itself, but she had to explain it to Mrs. Lander. +She had to tell her of Mrs. Milray's behavior after the entertainment on +the steamer, and Mrs. Lander said that Clementina had done just exactly +right; and they both decided, against some impulses of curiosity in +Clementina's heart, that she should not make use of the introduction. + +The 'Hotel des Financieres' was mainly frequented by rich Americans full +of ready money, and by rich Russians of large credit. Better Americans +and worse, went, like the English, to smaller and cheaper hotels; and +Clementina's acquaintance was confined to mothers as shy and +ungrammatical as Mrs. Lander herself, and daughters blankly indifferent +to her. Mrs. Lander drove out every day when it did not rain, and she +took Clementina with her, because the doctor said it would do them both +good; but otherwise the girl remained pent in their apartment. The +doctor found her a teacher, and she kept on with her French, and began to +take lessons in Italian; she spoke with no one but her teacher, except +when the doctor came. At the table d'hote she heard talk of the things +that people seemed to come to Florence for: pictures, statues, palaces, +famous places; and it made her ashamed of not knowing about them. But +she could not go to see these things alone, and Mrs. Lander, in the +content she felt with all her circumstances, seemed not to suppose that +Clementina could care for anything but the comfort of the hotel and the +doctor's visits. When the girl began to get letters from home in answer +to the first she had written back, boasting how beautiful Florence was, +they assumed that she was very gay, and demanded full accounts of her +pleasures. Her brother Jim gave something of the village news, but he +said he supposed that she would not care for that, and she would probably +be too proud to speak to them when she came home. The Richlings had +called in to share the family satisfaction in Clementina's first +experiences, and Mrs. Richling wrote her very sweetly of their happiness +in them. She charged her from the rector not to forget any chance of +self-improvement in the allurements of society, but to make the most of +her rare opportunities. She said that they had got a guide-book to +Florence, with a plan of the city, and were following her in the +expeditions they decided she must be making every day; they were reading +up the Florentine history in Sismondi's Italian Republics, and she bade +Clementina be sure and see all the scenes of Savonarola's martyrdom, so +that they could talk them over together when she returned. + +Clexnentina wondered what Mrs. Richling would think if she told her that +all she knew of Florence was what she overheard in the talk of the girls +in the hotel, who spoke before her of their dances and afternoon teas, +and evenings at the opera, and drives in the Cascine, and parties to +Fiesole, as if she were not by. + +The days and weeks passed, until Carnival was half gone, and Mrs. Lander +noticed one day that Clementina appeared dull. "You don't seem to get +much acquainted?" she suggested. + +"Oh, the'e's plenty of time," said Clementina. + +"I wish the'e was somebody you could go round with, and see the place. +Shouldn't you like to see the place? "Mrs. Lander pursued. + +"There's no hurry about it, Mrs. Lander. It will stay as long as we do." + +Mrs. Lander was thoughtfully silent. Then she said, "I declare, I've got +half a mind to make you send that letta to Miss Milray, after all. What +difference if Mrs. Milray did act so ugly to you? He never did, and +she's his sista." + +"Oh, I don't want to send it, Mrs. Landa; you mustn't ask me to. I shall +get along," said Clementina. The recognition of her forlornness deepened +it, but she was cheerfuller, for no reason, the next morning; and that +afternoon, the doctor unexpectedly came upon a call which he made haste +to say was not professional. + +"I've just come from another patient of mine, and I promised to ask if +you had not crossed on the same ship with a brother of hers,--Mr. +Milray." + +Celementina and Mrs. Lander looked guiltily at each other. "I guess we +did," Mrs. Lander owned at last, with a reluctant sigh. + +"Then, she says you have a letter for her." + +The doctor spoke to both, but his looks confessed that he was not +ignorant of the fact when Mrs. Lander admitted, "Well Clementina, he'e, +has." + +"She wants to know why you haven't delivered it," the doctor blurted out. + +Mrs. Lander looked at Clementina. "I guess she ha'n't quite got round to +it yet, have you, Clementina?" + +The doctor put in: "Well, Miss Milray is rather a dangerous person to +keep waiting. If you don't deliver it pretty soon, I shouldn't be +surprised if she came to get it." Dr. Welwright was a young man in the +early thirties, with a laugh that a great many ladies said had done more +than any one thing for them, and he now prescribed it for Clementina. +But it did not seem to help her in the trouble her face betrayed. + +Mrs. Lander took the word, "Well, I wouldn't say it to everybody. But +you're our doctor, and I guess you won't mind it. We don't like the way +Mrs. Milray acted to Clementina, in the ship, and we don't want to be +beholden to any of her folks. I don't know as Clementina wants me to +tell you just what it was, and I won't; but that's the long and sho't of +it." + +"I'm sorry," the doctor said. "I've never met Mrs. Milray, but Miss +Milray has such a pleasant house, and likes to get young people about +her. There are a good many young people in your hotel, though, and I +suppose you all have a very good time here together." He ended by +speaking to Clementina, and now he said he had done his errand, and must +be going. + +When he was gone, Mrs. Lander faltered, "I don't know but what we made a +mistake, Clementina." + +"It's too late to worry about it now," said the girl. + +"We ha'n't bound to stay in Florence," said Mrs. Lander, thoughtfully. +"I only took the rooms by the week, and we can go, any time, Clementina, +if you are uncomf'table bein' here on Miss Milray's account. We could go +to Rome; they say Rome's a nice place; or to Egypt." + +"Mrs. Milray's in Egypt," Clementina suggested. + +"That's true," Mrs. Lander admitted, with a sigh. After a while she went +on, "I don't know as we've got any right to keep the letter. It belongs +to her, don't it?" + +"I guess it belongs to me, as much as it does to her," said Clementina. +"If it's to her, it's for me. I am not going to send it, Mrs. Landa." + +They were still in this conclusion when early in the following afternoon +Miss Milray's cards were brought up for Mrs. Lander and Miss Claxon. + +"Well, I decla'e!" cried Mrs. Lander. "That docta: must have gone +straight and told her what we said." + +"He had no right to," said Clementina, but neither of them was +displeased, and after it was over, Mrs. Lander said that any one would +have thought the call was for her, instead of Clementina, from the way +Miss Milray kept talking to her. She formed a high opinion of her; and +Miss Milray put Clementina in mind of Mr. Milray; she had the same hair +of chiseled silver, and the same smile; she moved like him, and talked +like him; but with a greater liveliness. She asked fondly after him, +and made Clementina tell her if he seemed quite well, and in good +spirits; she was civilly interested in Mrs. Milray's health. At the +embarrassment which showed itself in the girl, she laughed and said, +"Don't imagine I don't know all about it, Miss Claxon! My sister-in-law +has owned up very handsomely; she isn't half bad, as the English say, and +I think she likes owning up if she can do it safely." + +"And you don't think," asked Mrs. Lander, "that Clementina done wrong to +dance that way?" + +Clementina blushed, and Miss Milray laughed again. "If you'll let Miss +Claxon come to a little party I'm giving she may do her dance at my +house; but she sha'n't be obliged to do it, or anything she doesn't like. +Don't say she hasn't a gown ready, or something of that kind! You don't +know the resources of Florence, and how the dress makers here doat upon +doing impossible things in no time at all, and being ready before they +promise. If you'll put Miss Claxon in my hands, I'll see that she's +dressed for my dance. I live out on one of the hills over there, that +you see from your windows"--she nodded toward them--"in a beautiful +villa, too cold for winter, and too hot for summer, but I think Miss +Claxon can endure its discomfort for a day, if you can spare her, and she +will consent to leave you to the tender mercies of your maid, and "Miss +Milray paused at the kind of unresponsive blank to which she found +herself talking, and put up her lorgnette, to glance from Mrs. Lander to +Clementina. The girl said, with embarrassment, "I don't think I ought to +leave Mrs. Landa, just now. She isn't very well, and I shouldn't like to +leave her alone." + +"But we're just as much obliged to you as if she could come," Mrs. Lander +interrupted; "and later on, maybe she can. You see, we han't got any +maid, yit. Well, we did have one at Woodlake, but she made us do so many +things for her, that we thought we should like to do a few things for +ouaselves, awhile." + +If Miss Milray perhaps did not conceive the situation, exactly, she said, +Oh, they were quite right in that; but she might count upon Miss Claxon +for her dance, might not she; and might not she do anything in her power +for them? She rose to go, but Mrs. Lander took her at her word, so far +as to say, Why, yes, if she could tell Clementina the best place to get a +dress she guessed the child would be glad enough to come to the dance. + +"Tell her!" Miss Milray cried. "I'll take her! Put on your hat, my +dear," she said to Clementina, "and come with me now. My carriage is at +your door." + +Clementina looked at Mrs. Lander, who said, "Go, of cou'se, child. I +wish I could go, too." + +"Do come, too," Miss Milray entreated. + +"No, no," said Mrs. Lander, flattered. "I a'n't feeling very well, to- +day. I guess I'm better off at home. But don't you hurry back on my +account, Clementina." While the girl was gone to put on her hat she +talked on about her. "She's the best gul in the wo'ld, and she won't be +one of the poorest; and I shall feel that I'm doin' just what Mr. Landa +would have wanted I should. He picked her out himself, moa than three +yea's ago, when we was drivin' past her house at Middlemount, and it was +to humor him afta he was gone, moa than anything else, that I took her. +Well, she wa'n't so very easy to git, either, I can tell you." She cut +short her history of the affair to say when Clementina came back, "I want +you should do the odderin' yourself, Miss Milray, and not let her scrimp +with the money. She wants to git some visitin' cahds; and if you miss +anything about her that she'd ought to have, or that any otha yong lady's +got, won't you just git it for her?" + +As soon as she imagined the case, Miss Milray set herself to overcome +Mrs. Lander's reluctance from a maid. She prevailed with her to try the +Italian woman whom she sent her, and in a day the genial Maddalena had +effaced the whole tradition of the bleak Ellida. It was not essential to +the understanding which instantly established itself between them that +they should have any language in common. They babbled at each other, +Mrs. Lander in her Bostonized Yankee, and Maddalena in her gutteral +Florentine, and Mrs. Lander was flattered to find how well she knew +Italian. + +Miss Milray had begun being nice to Clementina in fealty to her brother, +who so seldom made any proof of her devotion to him, and to whom she bad +remained passionately true through his shady past. She was eager to +humor his whim for the little country girl who had taken his fancy, +because it was his whim, and not because she had any hopes that +Clementina would justify it. She had made Dr. Welwright tell her all he +knew about her, and his report of her grace and beauty had piqued her +curiosity; his account of the forlorn dullness of her life with Mrs. +Lander in their hotel had touched her heart. But she was still skeptical +when she went to get her letter of introduction; when she brought +Clementina home from the dressmaker's she asked if she might kiss her, +and said she was already in love with her. + +Her love might have made her wish to do everything for her that she now +began to do, but it simplified the situation to account for her to the +world as the ward of Mrs. Lander, who was as rich as she was vulgar, and +it was with Clementina in this character that Miss Milray began to make +the round of afternoon teas, and inspired invitations for her at pleasant +houses, by giving a young ladies' lunch for her at her own. Before the +night of her little dance, she had lost any misgiving she had felt at +first, in the delight of seeing Clementina take the world as if she had +thought it would always behave as amiably as that, and as if she had +forgotten her unkind experiences to the contrary. She knew from Mrs. +Lander how the girls at their hotel had left her out, but Miss Milray +could not see that Clementina met them with rancor, when her authority +brought them together. If the child was humiliated by her past in the +gross lonely luxury of Mrs. Lander's life or the unconscious poverty of +her own home, she did not show it in the presence of the world that now +opened its arms to her. She remained so tranquil in the midst of all the +novel differences, that it made her friend feel rather vulgar in her +anxieties for her, and it was not always enough to find that she had not +gone wrong simply because she had hold still, and had the gift of waiting +for things to happen. Sometimes when Miss Milray had almost decided that +her passivity was the calm of a savage, she betrayed so sweet and +grateful a sense of all that was done for her, that her benefactress +decided that, she was not rustic, but was sylvan in a way of her own, +and not so much ignorant as innocent. She discovered that she was not +ignorant even of books, but with no literary effect from them she had +transmitted her reading into the substance of her native gentleness, and +had both ideas and convictions. When Clementina most affected her as an +untried wilderness in the conventional things she most felt her equality +to any social fortune that might befall her, and then she would have +liked to see her married to a title, and taking the glory of this world +with an unconsciousness that experience would never wholly penetrate. +But then again she felt that this would be somehow a profanation, and she +wanted to pack her up and get her back to Middlemount before anything of +the kind should happen. She gave Milray these impressions of Clementina +in the letter she wrote to thank him for her, and to scold him for +sending the girl to her. She accused him of wishing to get off on her a +riddle which he could not read himself; but she owned that the charm of +Clementina's mystery was worth a thousand times the fatigue of trying to +guess her out and that she was more and more infatuated with her every +day. + +In the meantime, Miss Milray's little dance grew upon her till it became +a very large one that filled her villa to overflowing when the time came +for it. She lived on one of the fine avenues of the Oltrarno region, +laid out in the brief period of prosperity which Florence enjoyed as the +capital of Italy. The villa was built at that time, and it was much +newer than the house on Seventeenth street in New York, where she spent +the girlhood that had since prolonged itself beyond middle life with her. +She had first lived abroad in the Paris of the Second Empire, and she had +been one winter in Rome, but she had settled definitely in Florence +before London became an American colony, so that her friends were chiefly +Americans, though she had a wide international acquaintance. Perhaps her +habit of taking her brother's part, when he was a black sheep, inclined +her to mercy with people who had not been so blameless in their morals as +they were in their minds and manners. She exacted that they should be +interesting and agreeable, and not too threadbare; but if they had +something that decently buttoned over the frayed places, she did not +frown upon their poverty. Bohemians of all kinds liked her; Philistines +liked her too; and in such a place as Florence, where the Philistines +themselves are a little Bohemian, she might be said to be very popular. +You met persons whom you did not quite wish to meet at her house, but if +these did not meet you there, it was your loss. + +On the night of the dance the line of private carriages, remises and +cabs, lined the Viale Ariosto for a mile up and down before her gates, +where young artists of both sexes arrived on foot. By this time her +passion for Clementina was at its height. She had Maddalena bring her +out early in the evening, and made her dress under her own eye and her +French maid's, while Maddalena went back to comfort Mrs. Lander. + +"I hated to leave her," said Clementina. "I don't believe she's very +well." + +"Isn't she always ill?" demanded Miss Milray. She embraced the girl +again, as if once were not enough. "Clementina, if Mrs. Lander won't +give you to me, I'm going to steal you. Do you know what I want you to +do tonight? I want you to stand up with me, and receive, till the +dancing begins, as if it were your coming-out. I mean to introduce +everybody to you. You'll be easily the prettiest girl, there, and you'll +have the nicest gown, and I don't mean that any of your charms shall be +thrown away. You won't be frightened?" + +"No, I don't believe I shall," said Clementina. "You can tell me what to +do." + +The dress she wore was of pale green, like the light seen in thin woods; +out of it shone her white shoulders, and her young face, as if rising +through the verdurous light. The artists, to a man and woman, wished to +paint her, and severally told her so, during the evening which lasted +till morning. She was not surprised when Lord Lioncourt appeared, toward +midnight, and astonished Miss Milray by claiming acquaintance with +Clementina. He asked about Mrs. Lander, and whether she had got to +Florence without losing the way; he laughed but he seemed really to care. +He took Clementina out to supper, when the time came; and she would have +topped him by half a head as she leaned on his arm, if she had not +considerately drooped and trailed a little after him. + +She could not know what a triumph he was making for her; and it was +merely part of the magic of the time that Mr. Ewins should come in +presently with one of the ladies. He had arrived in Florence that day, +and had to be brought unasked. He put on the effect of an old friend +with her; but Clementina's curiosity was chiefly taken with a tall +American, whom she thought very handsome. His light yellow hair was +brushed smooth across his forehead like a well-behaving boy's; he was +dressed like the other men, but he seemed not quite happy in his evening +coat, and his gloves which he smote together uneasily from time to time. +He appeared to think that somehow the radiant Clementina would know how +he felt; he did not dance, and he professed to have found himself at the +party by a species of accident. He told her that he was out in Europe +looking after a patent right that he had just taken hold of, and was +having only a middling good time. He pretended surprise to hear her say +that she was having a first-rate time, and he tried to reason her out of +it. He confessed that from the moment he came into the room he had made +up his mind to take her to supper, and had never been so disgusted in his +life as when he saw that little lord toddling off with her, and trying to +look as large as life. He asked her what a lord was like, anyway, and he +made her laugh all the time. + +He told her his name, G. W. Hinkle, and asked whether she would be likely +to remember it if they ever met again. + +Another man who interested her very much was a young Russian, with +curling hair and neat, small features who spoke better English than she +did, and said he was going to be a writer, but had not yet decided +whether to write in Russian or French; she supposed he had wanted her +advice, but he did not wait for it, or seem to expect it. He was very +much in earnest, while he fanned her, and his earnestness amused her as +much as the American's irony. He asked which city of America she came +from, and when she said none, he asked which part of America. She +answered New England, and he said, "Oh, yes, that is where they have the +conscience." She did not know what he meant, and he put before her the +ideal of New England girlhood which he had evolved from reading American +novels. "Are you like that?" he demanded. + +She laughed, and said, "Not a bit," and asked him if he had ever met such +an American girl, and he said, frankly, No; the American girls were all +mercenary, and cared for nothing but money, or marrying titles. He added +that he had a title, but he would not wear it. + +Clementina said she did not believe she cared for titles, and then he +said, "But you care for money." She denied it, but as if she had +confessed it, he went on: "The only American that I have seen with that +conscience was a man. I will tell you of him, if you wish." + +He did not wait for her answer. "It was in Naples--at Pompeii. I saw at +the first glance that he was different from other Americans, and I +resolved to know him. He was there in company with a stupid boy, whose +tutor he was; and he told me that he was studying to be a minister of the +Protestant church. Next year he will go home to be consecrated. He +promised to pass through Florence in the spring, and he will keep his +word. Every act, every word, every thought of his is regulated by +conscience. It is terrible, but it is beautiful." All the time, the +Russian was fanning Clementina, with every outward appearance of +flirtation. "Will you dance again? No? I should like to draw such a +character as his in a romance." + + + + +XXII. + +It was six o'clock in the morning before Miss Milray sent Clementina home +in her carriage. She would have kept her to breakfast, but Clementina +said she ought to go on Mrs. Lander's account, and she wished to go on +her own. + +She thought she would steal to bed without waking her, but she was +stopped by the sound of groans when she entered their apartment; the +light gushed from Mrs. Lander's door. Maddalena came out, and blessed +the name of her Latin deity (so much more familiar and approachable than +the Anglo-Saxon divinity) that Clementina had come at last, and poured +upon her the story of a night of suffering for Mrs. Lander. Through her +story came the sound of Mrs. Lander's voice plaintively reproachful, +summoning Clementina to her bedside. "Oh, how could you go away and +leave me? I've been in such misery the whole night long, and the docta +didn't do a thing for me. I'm puffectly wohn out, and I couldn't make my +wants known with that Italian crazy-head. If it hadn't been for the +portyary comin' in and interpretin', when the docta left, I don't know +what I should have done. I want you should give him a twenty-leary note +just as quick as you see him; and oh, isn't the docta comin'?" + +Clementina set about helping Maddalena put the room, which was in an +impassioned disorder, to rights; and she made Mrs. Lander a cup of her +own tea, which she had brought from S. S. Pierces in passing through +Boston; it was the first thing, the sufferer said, that had saved her +life. Clementina comforted her, and promised her that the doctor should +be there very soon; and before Mrs. Lander fell away to sleep, she was so +far out of danger as to be able to ask how Clementina had enjoyed +herself, and to be glad that she had such a good time. + +The doctor would not wake her when he came; he said that she had been +through a pretty sharp gastric attack, which would not recur, if she ate +less of the most unwholesome things she could get, and went more into the +air, and walked a little. He did not seem alarmed, and he made +Clementina tell him about the dance, which he had been called from to +Mrs. Lander's bed of pain. He joked her for not having missed him; in +the midst of their fun, she caught herself in the act of yawning, and the +doctor laughed, and went away. + +Maddalena had to call her, just before dinner, when Mrs. Lander had been +awake long enough to have sent for the doctor to explain the sort of gone +feeling which she was now the victim of. It proved, when he came, to be +hunger, and he prescribed tea and toast and a small bit of steak. Before +he came she had wished to arrange for going home at once, and dying in +her own country. But his opinion so far prevailed with her that she +consented not to telegraph for berths. "I presume," she said, "it'll do, +any time before the icebugs begin to run. But I d' know, afta this, +Clementina, as I can let you leave me quite as you be'n doin'. There was +a lot of flowas come for you, this aftanoon, but I made Maddalena put 'em +on the balcony, for I don't want you should get poisoned with 'em in your +sleep; I always head they was dangerous in a person's 'bed room. I d' +know as they are, eitha." + +Maddalena seemed to know that Mrs. Lander was speaking of the flowers. +She got them and gave them to Clementina, who found they were from some +of the men she had danced with. Mr. Hinkle had sent a vast bunch of +violets, which presently began to give out their sweetness in the warmth +of the room, and the odor brought him before her with his yellow hair, +scrupulously parted at the side, and smoothly brushed, showing his +forehead very high up. Most of the gentlemen wore their hair parted in +the middle, or falling in a fringe over their brows; the Russian's was +too curly to part, and Lord Lioncourt had none except at the sides. + +She laughed, and Mrs. Lander said, "Tell about it, Clementina," and she +began with Mr. Hinkle, and kept coming back to him from the others. Mrs. +Lander wished most to know how that lord had got down to Florence; and +Clementina said he was coming to see her. + +"Well, I hope to goodness he won't come to-day, I a'n't fit to see +anybody." + +"Oh, I guess he won't come till to-morrow," said Clementina; she repeated +some of the compliments she had got, and she told of all Miss Milray's +kindness to her, but Mrs. Lander said, "Well, the next time, I'll thank +her not to keep you so late." She was astonished to hear that Mr. Ewins +was there, and "Any of the nasty things out of the hotel the'e?" she +asked. + +"Yes," Clementina said, "the'e we'e, and some of them we'e very nice. +They wanted to know if I wouldn't join them, and have an aftanoon of our +own here in the hotel, so that people could come to us all at once." + +She went back to the party, and described the rest of it. When she came +to the part about the Russian, she told what he had said of American +girls being fond of money, and wanting to marry foreign noblemen. + +Mrs. Lander said, "Well, I hope you a'n't a going to get married in a +hurry, anyway, and when you do I hope you'll pick out a nice American." + +"Oh, yes," said Clementina. + +Mrs. Lander had their dinner brought to their apartment. She cheered up, +and she was in some danger of eating too much, but with Clementina's help +she denied herself. Their short evening was one of the gayest; +Clementina declared she was not the least sleepy, but she went to bed at +nine, and slept till nine the next day. + +Mrs. Lander, the doctor confessed, the second morning, was more shaken up +by, her little attack than he had expected; but she decided to see the +gentleman who had asked to call on Clementina. Lord Lioncourt did not +come quite so soon as she was afraid he might, and when he came he talked +mostly to Clementina. He did not get to Mrs. Lander until just before he +was going. She hospitably asked him what his hurry was, and then he said +that he was off for Rome, that evening at seven. He was nice about +hoping she was comfortable in the hotel, and he sympathized with her in +her wish that there was a set-bowl in her room; she told him that she +always tried to have one, and he agreed that it must be very convenient +where any one was, as she said, sick so much. + +Mr. Hinkle came a day later; and then it appeared that he had a mother +whose complaints almost exactly matched Mrs. Lander's. He had her +photograph with him, and showed it; he said if you had no wife to carry +round a photograph of, you had better carry your mother's; and Mrs. +Lander praised him for being a good son. A good son, she added, always +made a good husband; and he said that was just what he told the young +ladies himself, but it did not seem to make much impression on them. +He kept Clementina laughing; and he pretended that he was going to bring +a diagram of his patent right for her to see, because she would be +interested in a gleaner like that; and he said he wished her father could +see it, for it would be sure to interest the kind of man Mrs. Lander +described him to be. "I'll be along up there just about the time you get +home, Miss Clementina. Then did you say it would be?" + +"I don't know; pretty ea'ly in the spring, I guess." + +She looked at Mrs. Lander, who said, "Well, it depends upon how I git up +my health. I couldn't bea' the voyage now." + +Mr. Hinkle said, "No, best look out for your health, if it takes all +summer. I shouldn't want you to hurry on my account. Your time is my +time. All I want is for Miss Clementina, here, to personally conduct me +to her father. If I could get him to take hold of my gleaner in New +England, we could make the blueberry crop worth twice what it is." + +Mrs. Lander perceived that he was joking; and she asked what he wanted to +run away for when the young Russian's card came up. He said, "Oh, give +every man a chance," and he promised that he would look in every few +days, and see how she was getting along. He opened the door after he had +gone out, and put his head in to say in confidence to Mrs. Lander, but so +loud that Clementina could hear, "I suppose she's told you who the belle +of the ball was, the other night? Went out to supper with a lord!" +He seemed to think a lord was such a good joke that if you mentioned one +you had to laugh. + +The Russian's card bore the name Baron Belsky, with the baron crossed out +in pencil, and he began to attack in Mrs. Lander the demerits of the +American character, as he had divined them. He instructed her that her +countrymen existed chiefly to make money; that they were more shopkeepers +than the English and worse snobs; that their women were trivial and their +men sordid; that their ambition was to unite their families with the +European aristocracies; and their doctrine of liberty and equality was a +shameless hypocrisy. This followed hard upon her asking, as she did very +promptly, why he had scratched out the title on his card. He told her +that he wished to be known solely as an artist, and he had to explain to +her that he was not a painter, but was going to be a novelist. She taxed +him with never having been in America, but he contended that as all +America came to Europe he had the materials for a study of the national +character at hand, without the trouble of crossing the ocean. In return +she told him that she had not been the least sea-sick during the voyage, +and that it was no trouble at all; then he abruptly left her and went +over to beg a cup of tea from Clementina, who sat behind the kettle by +the window. + +"I have heard this morning from that American I met in Pompeii" he began. +"He is coming northward, and I am going down to meet him in Rome." + +Mrs. Lander caught the word, and called across the room, "Why, a'n't that +whe'e that lo'd's gone?" + +Clementina said yes, and while the kettle boiled, she asked if Baron +Belsky were going soon. + +"Oh, in a week or ten days, perhaps. I shall know when he arrives. Then +I shall go. We write to each other every day." He drew a letter from +his breast pocket. "This will give you the idea of his character," and +he read, "If we believe that the hand of God directs all our actions, how +can we set up our theories of conduct against what we feel to be his +inspiration?" + +"What do you think of that?" he demanded. + +"I don't believe that God directs our wrong actions," said Clementina. + +"How! Is there anything outside of God? + +"I don't know whether there is or not. But there is something that +tempts me to do wrong, sometimes, and I don't believe that is God." + +The Russian seemed struck. "I will write that to him!" + +"No," said Clementina, "I don't want you to say anything about me to +him." + +"No, no!" said Baron Belsky, waving his band reassuringly. "I would not +mention your name!" + +Mr. Ewins came in, and the Russian said he must go. Mrs. Lander tried to +detain him, too, as she had tried to keep Mr. Hinkle, but be was +inexorable. Mr. Ewins looked at the door when it had closed upon him. +Mrs. Lander said, "That is one of the gentlemen that Clementina met the +otha night at the dance. He is a baron, but he scratches it out. You'd +ought to head him go on about Americans." + +"Yes," said Mr. Ewins coldly. "He's at our hotel, and he airs his +peculiar opinions at the table d'hote pretty freely. He's a +revolutionist of some kind, I fancy." He pronounced the epithet with an +abhorrence befitting the citizen of a state born of revolution and a city +that had cradled the revolt. "He's a Nihilist, I believe." + +Mrs. Lander wished to know what that was, and he explained that it was a +Russian who wanted to overthrow the Czar, and set up a government of the +people, when they were not prepared for liberty. + +"Then, maybe he isn't a baron at all," said Mrs. Lander. + +"Oh, I believe he has a right to his title," Ewins answered. "It's a +German one." + +He said he thought that sort of man was all the more mischievous on +account of his sincerity. He instanced a Russian whom a friend of his +knew in Berlin, a man of rank like this fellow: he got to brooding upon +the condition of working people and that kind of thing, till he renounced +his title and fortune and went to work in an iron foundry. + +Mr. Ewins also spoke critically of Mrs. Milray. He had met her in Egypt; +but you soon exhausted the interest of that kind of woman. He professed +a great concern that Clementina should see Florence in just the right +way, and he offered his services in showing her the place. + +The Russian came the next day, and almost daily after that, in the +interest with which Clementina's novel difference from other American +girls seemed to inspire him. His imagination had transmuted her simple +Yankee facts into something appreciable to a Slav of his temperament. +He conceived of her as the daughter of a peasant, whose beauty had +charmed the widow of a rich citizen, and who was to inherit the wealth of +her adoptive mother. He imagined that the adoption had taken place at a +much earlier period than the time when Clementina's visit to Mrs. Lander +actually began, and that all which could he done had been done to efface +her real character by indulgence and luxury. + +His curiosity concerning her childhood, her home, her father and mother, +her brothers and sisters, and his misunderstanding of everything she told +him, amused her. But she liked him, and she tried to give him some +notion of the things he wished so much to know. It always ended in a +dissatisfaction, more or less vehement, with the outcome of American +conditions as he conceived them. + +"But you," he urged one day, "you who are a daughter of the fields and +woods, why should you forsake that pure life, and come to waste yourself +here?" + +"Why, don't you think it's very nice in Florence?" she asked, with eyes +of innocent interest. + +"Nice! Nice! Do we live for what is nice? Is it enough that you have +what you Americans call a nice time?" + +Clementina reflected. "I wasn't doing much of anything at home, and I +thought I might as well come with Mrs. Lander, if she wanted me so much." +She thought in a certain way, that he was meddling with what was not his +affair, but she believed that he was sincere in his zeal for the ideal +life he wished her to lead, and there were some things she had heard +about him that made her pity and respect him; his self-exile and his +renunciation of home and country for his principles, whatever they were; +she did not understand exactly. She would not have liked never being +able to go back to Middlemount, or to be cut off from all her friends as +this poor young Nihilist was, and she said, now, "I didn't expect that it +was going to be anything but a visit, and I always supposed we should go +back in the spring; but now Mrs. Lander is beginning to think she won't +be well enough till fall." + +"And why need you stay with her?" + +"Because she's not very well," answered Clementina, and she smiled, a +little triumphantly as well as tolerantly. + +"She could hire nurses and doctors, all she wants with her money." + +"I don't believe it would be the same thing, exactly, and what should I +do if I went back?" + +"Do? Teach! Uplift the lives about you." + +"But you say it is better for people to live simply, and not read and +think so much." + +"Then labor in the fields with them." + +Clementina laughed outright. "I guess if anyone saw me wo'king in the +fields they would think I was a disgrace to the neighbahood." + +Belsky gave her a stupified glare through his spectacles. "I cannot +undertand you Americans." + +"Well, you must come ova to America, then, Mr. Belsky"--he had asked her +not to call him by his title--"and then you would." + +"No, I could not endure the disappointment. You have the great +opportunity of the earth. You could be equal and just, and simple and +kind. There is nothing to hinder you. But all you try to do is to get +more and more money." + +"Now, that isn't faia, Mr. Belsky, and you know it." + +Well, then, you joke, joke--always joke. Like that Mr. Hinkle. He wants +to make money with his patent of a gleaner, that will take the last grain +of wheat from the poor, and he wants to joke--joke!' + +Clementina said, "I won't let you say that about Mr. Hinkle. You don't +know him, or you wouldn't. If he jokes, why shouldn't he?" + +Belsky made a gesture of rejection. "Oh, you are an American, too." + +She had not grown less American, certainly, since she had left home; even +the little conformities to Europe that she practiced were traits of +Americanism. Clementina was not becoming sophisticated, but perhaps she +was becoming more conventionalized. The knowledge of good and evil in +things that had all seemed indifferently good to her once, had crept upon +her, and she distinguished in her actions. She sinned as little as any +young lady in Florence against the superstitions of society; but though +she would not now have done a skirt-dance before a shipful of people, she +did not afflict herself about her past errors. She put on the world, but +she wore it simply and in most matters unconsciously. Some things were +imparted to her without her asking or wishing, and merely in virtue of +her youth and impressionability. She took them from her environment +without knowing it, and in this way she was coming by an English manner +and an English tone; she was only the less American for being rather +English without trying, when other Americans tried so hard. In the +region of harsh nasals, Clementina had never spoken through her nose, and +she was now as unaffected in these alien inflections as in the tender +cooings which used to rouse the misgivings of her brother Jim. When she +was with English people she employed them involuntarily, and when she was +with Americans she measurably lost them, so that after half an hour with +Mr. Hinkle, she had scarcely a trace of them, and with Mrs. Lander she +always spoke with her native accent. + + + + +XXIII + +One Sunday night, toward the end of Lent, Mrs. Lander had another of her +attacks; she now began to call them so as if she had established an +ownership in them. It came on from her cumulative over-eating, again, +but the doctor was not so smiling as he had been with regard to the +first. Clementina had got ready to drive out to Miss Milray's for one of +her Sunday teas, but she put off her things, and prepared to spend the +night at Mrs. Lander's bedside. "Well, I should think you would want +to," said the sufferer. "I'm goin' to do everything for you, and you'd +ought to be willing to give up one of youa junketin's for me. I'm sure I +don't know what you see in 'em, anyway." + +"Oh, I am willing, Mrs. Lander; I'm glad I hadn't stahted before it +began." Clementina busied herself with the pillows under Mrs. Lander's +dishevelled head, and the bedclothes disordered by her throes, while Mrs. +Lander went on. + +"I don't see what's the use of so much gaddin', anyway. I don't see as +anything comes of it, but just to get a passal of wo'thless fellas afta +you that think you'a going to have money. There's such a thing as two +sides to everything, and if the favas is goin' to be all on one side I +guess there'd betta be a clear undastandin' about it. I think I got a +right to a little attention, as well as them that ha'n't done anything; +and if I'm goin' to be left alone he'e to die among strangers every time +one of my attacks comes on"-- + +The doctor interposed, "I don't think you're going to have a very bad +attack, this time, Mrs. Lander." + +"Oh, thank you, thank you, docta! But you can undastand, can't you, how +I shall want to have somebody around that can undastand a little +English?" + +The doctor said, "Oh yes. And Miss Claxon and I can understand a good +deal, between us, and we're going to stay, and see how a little morphine +behaves with you." + +Mrs. Lander protested, "Oh, I can't bea' mo'phine, docta." + +"Did you ever try it?" he asked, preparing his little instrument to +imbibe the solution. + +"No; but Mr. Landa did, and it 'most killed him; it made him sick." + +"Well, you're about as sick as you can be, now, Mrs. Lander, and if you +don't die of this pin-prick"--he pushed the needle-point under the skin +of her massive fore-arm--"I guess you'll live through it." + +She shrieked, but as the pain began to abate, she gathered courage, and +broke forth joyfully. "Why, it's beautiful, a'n't it? I declare it +wo'ks like a cha'm. Well, I shall always keep mo'phine around after +this, and when, I feel one of these attacks comin' on"-- + +"Send for a physician, Mrs. Lander," said Dr. Welwright, "and he'll know +what to do." + +"I an't so sure of that," returned Mrs. Lander fondly. "He would if you +was the one. I declare I believe I could get up and walk right off, I +feel so well." + +"That's good. If you'll take a walk day after tomorrow it will help you +a great deal more." + +"Well, I shall always say that you've saved my life, this time, doctor; +and Clementina she's stood by, nobly; I'll say that for her." She +twisted her big head round on the pillow to get sight of the girl. "I'm +all right, now; and don't you mind what I said. It's just my misery +talkin'; I don't know what I did say; I felt so bad. But I'm fustrate, +now, and I believe I could drop off to sleep, this minute. Why don't you +go to your tea? You can, just as well as not!" + +"Oh, I don't want to go, now, Mrs. Lander; I'd ratha stay." + +"But there a'n't any more danger now, is the'e, docta?" Mrs. Lander +appealed. + +"No. There wasn't any danger before. But when you're quite yourself, +I want to have a little talk with you, Mrs. Lander, about your diet. We +must look after that." + +"Why, docta, that's what I do do, now. I eat all the healthy things I +lay my hands on, don't I, Clementina? And ha'n't you always at me about +it?" + +Clementina did not answer, and the doctor laughed. Well, I should like +to know what more I could do!" + +"Perhaps you could do less. We'll see about that. Better go to sleep, +now, if you feel like it." + +"Well, I will, if you'll make this silly child go to her tea. I s'pose +she won't because I scolded her. She's an awful hand to lay anything up +against you. You know you ah', Clementina! But I can say this, doctor: +a betta child don't breathe, and I just couldn't live without her. Come +he'e, Clementina, I want to kiss you once, before I go to sleep, so's to +make su'a you don't bea' malice." She pulled Clementina down to kiss +her, and babbled on affectionately and optimistically, till her talk +became the voice of her dreams, and then ceased altogether. + +"You could go, perfectly well, Miss Claxon," said the doctor. + +"No, I don't ca'e to go," answered Clementina. I'd ratha stay. If she +should wake"-- + +"She won't wake, until long after you've got back; I'll answer for that. +I'm going to stay here awhile. Go! I'll take the responsibility." + +Clementina's face brightened. She wanted very much to go. She should +meet some pleasant people; she always did, at Miss Milray's. Then the +light died out of her gay eyes, and she set her lips. "No, I told her I +shouldn't go." + +"I didn't hear you," said Dr. Welwright. "A doctor has no eyes and ears +except for the symptoms of his patients." + +"Oh, I know," said Clementina. She had liked Dr. Welwright from the +first, and she thought it was very nice of him to stay on, after he left +Mrs. Lander's bedside, and help to make her lonesome evening pass +pleasantly in the parlor. He jumped up finally, and looked at his watch. +"Bless my soul!" he said, and he went in for another look at Mrs. +Lander. When he came back, he said, "She's all right. But you've made +me break an engagement, Miss Claxon. I was going to tea at Miss +Milray's. She promised me I should meet you there." + +It seemed a great joke; and Clementina offered to carry his excuses to +Miss Milray, when she went to make her own. + +She, went the next morning. Mrs. Lander insisted that she should go; she +said that she was not going to have Miss Milray thinking that she wanted +to keep her all to herself. + +Miss Milray kissed the girl in full forgiveness, but she asked, "Did Dr. +Welwright think it a very bad attack?" + +"Has he been he'a?" returned Clementina. + +Miss Milray laughed. "Doctors don't betray their patients--good doctors. +No, he hasn't been here, if that will help you. I wish it would help me, +but it won't, quite. I don't like to think of that old woman using you +up, Clementina." + +"Oh, she doesn't, Miss Milray. You mustn't think so. You don't know how +good she is to me." + +"Does she ever remind you of it?" + +Clementina's eyes fell. "She isn't like herself when she doesn't feel +well." + +"I knew it!" Miss Milray triumphed. "I always knew that she was a +dreadful old tabby. I wish you were safely out of her clutches. Come +and live with me, my dear, when Mrs. Lander gets tired of you. But +she'll never get tired of you. You're just the kind of helpless mouse +that such an old tabby would make her natural prey. But she sha'n't, +even if another sort of cat has to get you! I'm sorry you couldn't come +last night. Your little Russian was here, and went away early and very +bitterly because you didn't come. He seemed to think there was nobody, +and said so, in everything but words." + +"Oh!" said Clementina. "Don't you think he's very nice, Miss Milray?" + +"He's very mystical, or else so very simple that he seems so. I hope you +can make him out." + +Don't you think he's very much in ea'nest? + +"Oh, as the grave, or the asylum. I shouldn't like him to be in earnest +about me, if I were you." + +"But that's just what he is!" Clementina told how the Russian had +lectured her, and wished her to go back to the country and work in the +fields. + +"Oh, if that's all!" cried Miss Milray. I was afraid it was another kind +of earnestness: the kind I shouldn't like if I were you." + +"There's no danger of that, I guess." Clementina laughed, and Miss +Milray went on: + +"Another of your admirers was here; but be was not so inconsolable, or +else be found consolation in staying on and talking about you, or +joking." + +"Oh, yes; Mr. Hinkle," cried Clementina with the smile that the thought +of him always brought. He's lovely." + +"Lovely? Well, I don't know why it isn't the word. It suits him a great +deal better than some insipid girls that people give it to. Yes, I could +really fall in love with Mr. Hinkle. He's the only man I ever saw who +would know how to break the fall!" + +It was lunch-time before their talk had begun to run low, and it swelled +again over the meal. Miss Milray returned to Mrs. Lander, and she made +Clementina confess that she was a little trying sometimes. But she +insisted that she was always good, and in remorse she went away as soon +as Miss Milray rose from table. + +She found Mrs. Lander very much better, and willing to have had her stay +the whole afternoon with Miss Milray. "I don't want she should have +anything to say against me, to you, Clementina; she'd be glad enough to. +But I guess it's just as well you'a back. That scratched-out baron has +been he'e twice, and he's waitin' for you in the pahla', now. I presume +he'll keep comin' till you do see him. I guess you betta have it ova; +whatever it is." + +"I guess you're right, Mrs. Lander." + +Clementina found the Russian walking up and down the room, and as soon as +their greeting was over, he asked leave to continue his promenade, but he +stopped abruptly before her when she had sunk upon a sofa. + +"I have come to tell you a strange story," he said. + +"It is the story of that American friend of mine. I tell it to you +because I think you can understand, and will know what to advise, what to +do." + +He turned upon his heel, and walked the length of the room and back +before he spoke again. + +"Since several years," he said, growing a little less idiomatic in his +English as his excitement mounted, "he met a young girl, a child, when he +was still not a man's full age. It was in the country, in the mountains +of America, and--he loved her. Both were very poor; he, a student, +earning the means to complete his education in the university. He had +dedicated himself to his church, and with the temperament of the +Puritans, he forbade himself all thoughts of love. But he was of a +passionate and impulsive nature, and in a moment of abandon he confessed +his love. The child was bewildered, frightened; she shrank from his +avowal, and he, filled with remorse for his self-betrayal, bade her let +it be as if it had not been; he bade her think of him no more." + +Clementina sat as if powerless to move, staring at Belsky. He paused in +his walk, and allowed an impressive silence to ensue upon his words. + +"Time passed: days, months, years; and he did not see her again. He +pursued his studies in the university; at their completion, he entered +upon the course of divinity, and he is soon to be a minister of his +church. In all that time the image of the young girl has remained in his +heart, and has held him true to the only love he has ever known. He will +know no other while he lives." + +Again he stopped in front of Clementina; she looked helplessly up at him, +and he resumed his walk. + +"He, with his dreams of renunciation, of abnegation, had thought some day +to return to her and ask her to be his. He believed her capable of equal +sacrifice with himself, and he hoped to win her not for himself alone, +but for the religion which he put before himself. He would have invited +her to join her fate with his that they might go together on some mission +to the pagan--in the South Seas, in the heart of Africa, in the jungle of +India. He had always thought of her as gay but good, unworldly in soul, +and exalted in spirit. She has remained with him a vision of angelic +loveliness, as he had seen her last in the moonlight, on the banks of a +mountain torrent. But he believes that he has disgraced himself before +her; that the very scruple for her youth, her ignorance, which made him +entreat her to forget him, must have made her doubt and despise him. He +has never had the courage to write to her one word since all those years, +but he maintains himself bound to her forever." He stopped short before +Clementina and seized her hands. "If you knew such a girl, what would +you have her do? Should she bid him hope again? Would you have her say +to him that she, too, had been faithful to their dream, and that she +too"-- + +"Let me go, Mr. Belsky, let me go, I say!" Clementina wrenched her hands +from him, and ran out of the room. Belsky hesitated, then he found his +hat, and after a glance at his face in the mirror, left the house. + + + + +XXIV. + +The tide of travel began to set northward in April. Many English, many +Americans appeared in Florence from Naples and Rome; many who had +wintered in Florence went on to Venice and the towns of northern Italy, +on their way to Switzerland and France and Germany. + +The spring was cold and rainy, and the irresolute Italian railroads were +interrupted by the floods. A tawny deluge rolled down from the mountains +through the bed of the Arno, and kept the Florentine fire-department on +the alert night and day. "It is a curious thing about this country," +said Mr. Hinkle, encountering Baron Belsky on the Ponte Trinita, "that +the only thing they ever have here for a fire company to put out is a +freshet. If they had a real conflagration once, I reckon they would want +to bring their life-preservers." + +The Russian was looking down over the parapet at the boiling river. He +lifted his head as if he had not heard the American, and stared at him a +moment before he spoke. It is said that the railway to Rome is broken at +Grossetto." + +"Well, I'm not going to Rome," said Hinkle, easily. "Are you?" + +"I was to meet a friend there; but he wrote to me that be was starting to +Florence, and now"-- + +"He's resting on the way? Well, he'll get here about as quick as he +would in the ordinary course of travel. One good thing about Italy is, +you don't want to hurry; if you did, you'd get left." + +Belsky stared at him in the stupefaction to which the American humor +commonly reduced him. "If he gets left on the Grossetto line, he can go +back and come up by Orvieto, no?" + +"He can, if he isn't in a hurry," Hinkle assented. + +"It's a good way, if you've got time to burn." + +Belsky did not attempt to explore the American's meaning. "Do you know," +he asked, "whether Mrs. Lander and her young friend are still in +Florence? + +"I guess they are." + +"It was said they were going to Venice for the summer." + +"That's what the doctor advised for the old lady. But they don't start +for a week or two yet." + +"Oh!" + +"Are you going to Miss Milray's, Sunday night? Last of the season, I +believe." + +Belsky seemed to recall himself from a distance. + +"No--no," he said, and he moved away, forgetful of the ceremonious +salutation which he commonly used at meeting and parting. Hinkle looked +after him with the impression people have of a difference in the +appearance and behavior of some one whose appearance and behavior do not +particularly concern them. + +The day that followed, Belsky haunted the hotel where Gregory was to +arrive with his pupil, and where the pupil's family were waiting for +them. That night, long after their belated train was due, they came; the +pupil was with his father and mother, and Gregory was alone, when Belsky +asked for him, the fourth or fifth time. + +"You are not well," he said, as they shook bands. You are fevered!" + +"I'm tired," said Gregory. "We've bad a bad time getting through." + +"I come inconveniently! You have not dined, perhaps?" + +"Yes, Yes. I've had dinner. Sit down. How have you been yourself?" + +"Oh, always well." Belsky sat down, and the friends stared at each +other. "I have strange news for you." + +"For me?" + +"You. She is here." + +"She?" + +Yes. The young girl of whom you told me. If I had not forbidden myself +by my loyalty to you--if I had not said to myself every moment in her +presence, 'No, it is for your friend alone that she is beautiful and +good!'--But you will have nothing to reproach me in that regard." + +"What do you mean?" demanded Gregory. + +"I mean that Miss Claxon is in Florence, with her protectress, the rich +Mrs. Lander. The most admired young lady in society, going everywhere, +and everywhere courted and welcomed; the favorite of the fashionable Miss +Milray. But why should this surprise you?" + +"You said nothing about it in your letters. You"-- + +"I was not sure it was she; you never told me her name. When I had +divined the fact, I was so soon to see you, that I thought best to keep +it till we met." + +Gregory tried to speak, but he let Belsky go on. + +"If you think that the world has spoiled her, that she will be different +from what she was in her home among your mountains, let me reassure you. +In her you will find the miracle of a woman whom no flattery can turn the +head. I have watched her in your interest; I have tested her. She is +what you saw her last." + +"Surely," asked Gregory, in an anguish for what he now dreaded, "you +haven't spoken to her of me?" + +"Not by name, no. I could not have that indiscretion"-- + +"The name is nothing. Have you said that you knew me--Of course not! +But have you hinted at any knowledge--Because"-- + +"You will hear!" said Belsky; and he poured out upon Gregory the story of +what he had done. "She did not deny anything. She was greatly moved, +but she did not refuse to let me bid you hope"-- + +"Oh!" Gregory took his head between his hands. "You have spoiled my +life!" + +"Spoiled" Belsky stopped aghast. + +"I told you my story in a moment of despicable weakness--of impulsive +folly. But how could I dream that you would ever meet her? How could I +imagine that you would speak to her as you have done?" He groaned, and +began to creep giddily about the room in his misery. "Oh, oh, oh! +What shall I do?" + +"But I do not understand!" Belsky began. "If I have committed an error"-- + +"Oh, an error that never could be put right in all eternity!" + +"Then let me go to her--let me tell her"-- + +"Keep away from her!" shouted Gregory. "Do you hear? Never go near her +again!" + +"Gregory!" + +"Ah, I beg your pardon! I don't know what I'm doing-saying. What will +she think--what will she think of me!" He had ceased to speak to Belsky; +he collapsed into a chair, and hid his face in his arms stretched out on +the table before him. + +Belsky watched him in the stupefaction which the artistic nature feels +when life proves sentient under its hand, and not the mere material of +situations and effects. He could not conceive the full measure of the +disaster he had wrought, the outrage of his own behavior had been lost to +him in his preoccupation with the romantic end to be accomplished. He +had meant to be the friend, the prophet, to these American lovers, whom +he was reconciling and interpreting to each other; but in some point he +must have misunderstood. Yet the error was not inexpiable; and in his +expiation he could put the seal to his devotion. He left the room, where +Gregory made no effort to keep him. + +He walked down the street from the hotel to the Arno, and in a few +moments he stood on the bridge, where he had talked with that joker in +the morning, as they looked down together on the boiling river. He had a +strange wish that the joker might have been with him again, to learn that +there were some things which could not be joked away. + +The night was blustering, and the wind that blew the ragged clouds across +the face of the moon, swooped in sudden gusts upon the bridge, and the +deluge rolling under it and hoarsely washing against its piers. Belsky +leaned over the parapet and looked down into the eddies and currents as +the fitful light revealed them. He had a fantastic pleasure in studying +them, and choosing the moment when he should leap the parapet and be lost +in them. The incident could not be used in any novel of his, and no one +else could do such perfect justice to the situation, but perhaps +afterwards, when the facts leading to his death should be known through +the remorse of the lovers whom he had sought to serve, some other artist- +nature could distil their subtlest meaning in a memoir delicate as the +aroma of a faded flower. + +He was willing to make this sacrifice, too, and he stepped back a pace +from the parapet when the fitful blast caught his hat from his head, and +whirled it along the bridge. The whole current of his purpose changed, +and as if it had been impossible to drown himself in his bare head, he +set out in chase of his hat, which rolled and gamboled away, and escaped +from his clutch whenever he stooped for it, till a final whiff of wind +flung it up and tossed it over the bridge into the river, where he +helplessly watched it floating down the flood, till it was carried out of +sight. + + + + +XXV. + +Gregory did not sleep, and he did not find peace in the prayers he put up +for guidance. He tried to think of some one with whom he might take +counsel; but he knew no one in Florence except the parents of his pupil, +and they were impossible. He felt himself abandoned to the impulse which +he dreaded, in going to Clementina, and he went without hope, willing to +suffer whatever penalty she should visit upon him, after he had disavowed +Belsky's action, and claimed the responsibility for it. + +He was prepared for her refusal to see him; he had imagined her wounded +and pathetic; he had fancied her insulted and indignant; but she met him +eagerly and with a mystifying appeal in her welcome. He began at once, +without attempting to bridge the time since they had met with any +formalities. + +"I have come to speak to you about--that--Russian, about Baron Belsky"-- + +"Yes, yes!" she returned, anxiously. "Then you have hea'd" + +"He came to me last night, and--I want to say that I feel myself to blame +for what he has done." + +"You?" + +"Yes; I. I never spoke of you by name to him; I didn't dream of his ever +seeing you, or that he would dare to speak to you of what I told him. +But I believe he meant no wrong; and it was I who did the harm, whether I +authorized it or not." + +"Yes, yes!" she returned, with the effect of putting his words aside as +something of no moment. "Have they head anything more?" + +"How, anything more?" he returned, in a daze. + +"Then, don't you know? About his falling into the river? I know he +didn't drown himself." + +Gregory shook his head. "When--what makes them think"--He stopped and +stared at her. + +"Why, they know that he went down to the Ponte Trinity last night; +somebody saw him going: And then that peasant found his hat with his name +in it in the drift-wood below the Cascine"-- + +"Yes," said Gregory, lifelessly. He let his arms drop forward, and his +helpless hands hang over his knees; his gaze fell from her face to the +floor. + +Neither spoke for a time that seemed long, and then it was Clementina who +spoke. "But it isn't true!" + +"Oh, yes, it is," said Gregory, as before. + +"Mr. Hinkle doesn't believe it is," she urged. + +"Mr. Hinkle?" + +"He's an American who's staying in Florence. He came this mo'ning to +tell me about it. Even if he's drowned Mr. Hinkle believes he didn't +mean to; he must have just fallen in." + +"What does it matter?" demanded Gregory, lifting his heavy eyes. +"Whether he meant it or not, I caused it. I drove him to it." + +"You drove him?" + +"Yes. He told me what he had said to you, and I--said that he had +spoiled my life--I don't know!" + +"Well, he had no right to do it; but I didn't blame you," Clementina +began, compassionately. + +"It's too late. It can't be helped now." Gregory turned from the mercy +that could no longer save him. He rose dizzily, and tried to get himself +away. + +"You mustn't go!" she interposed. "I don't believe you made him do it. +Mr. Hinkle will be back soon, and he will"-- + +"If he should bring word that it was true?" Gregory asked. + +"Well," said Clementina, "then we should have to bear it." + +A sense of something finer than the surface meaning of her words pierced +his morbid egotism. "I'm ashamed," he said. "Will you let me stay?" + +"Why, yes, you must," she said, and if there was any censure of him at +the bottom of her heart, she kept it there, and tried to talk him away +from his remorse, which was in his temperament, perhaps, rather than his +conscience; she made the time pass till there came a knock at the door, +and she opened it to Hinkle. + +"I didn't send up my name; I thought I wouldn't stand upon ceremony just +now," he said. + +"Oh, no!" she returned. "Mr. Hinkle, this is Mr. Gregory. Mr. Gregory +knew Mr. Belsky, and he thinks"-- + +She turned to Gregory for prompting, and he managed to say, "I don't +believe he was quite the sort of person to--And yet he might--he was in +trouble"-- + +"Money trouble?" asked Hinkle. "They say these Russians have a perfect +genius for debt. I had a little inspiration, since I saw you, but there +doesn't seems to be anything in it, so far." He addressed himself to +Clementina, but he included Gregory in what he said. "It struck me that +he might have been running his board, and had used this drowning episode +as a blind. But I've been around to his hotel, and he's settled up, all +fair and square enough. The landlord tried to think of something he +hadn't paid, but he couldn't; and I never saw a man try harder, either." +Clementina smiled; she put her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing; +but Gregory frowned his distress in the untimely droning. + +"I don't give up my theory that it's a fake of some kind, though. He +could leave behind a good many creditors besides his landlord. The +authorities have sealed up his effects, and they've done everything but +call out the fire department; that's on duty looking after the freshet, +and it couldn't be spared. I'll go out now and slop round a little more +in the cause, "Hinkle looked down at his shoes and his drabbled trousers, +and wiped the perspiration from his face, "but I thought I'd drop in, and +tell you not to worry about it, Miss Clementina. I would stake anything +you pleased on Mr. Belsky's safety. Mr. Gregory, here, looks like he +would be willing to take odds," he suggested. + +Gregory commanded himself from his misery to say, "I wish I could +believe--I mean"-- + +"Of course, we don't want to think that the man's a fraud, any more than +that he's dead. Perhaps we might hit upon some middle course. At any +rate, it's worth trying." + +"May I--do you object to my joining you?" Gregory asked. + +"Why, come!" Hinkle hospitably assented. "Glad to have you. I'll be +back again, Miss Clementina!" + +Gregory was going away without any form of leavetaking; but he turned +back to ask, "Will you let me come back, too?" + +"Why, suttainly, Mr. Gregory," said Clementina, and she went to find Mrs. +Lander, whom she found in bed. + +"I thought I'd lay down," she explained. "I don't believe I'm goin' to +be sick, but it's one of my pooa days, and I might just as well be in bed +as not." Clementina agreed with her, and Mrs. Lander asked: "You hea'd +anything moa?" + +"No. Mr. Hinkle has just been he'a, but he hadn't any news." + +Mrs. Lander turned her face toward the wall. "Next thing, he'll be +drownin' himself. I neva wanted you should have anything to do with the +fellas that go to that woman's. There ain't any of 'em to be depended +on." + +It was the first time that her growing jealousy of Miss Milray had openly +declared itself; but Clementina had felt it before, without knowing how +to meet it. As an escape from it now she was almost willing to say, +"Mrs. Lander, I want to tell you that Mr. Gregory has just been he'a, +too." + +"Mr. Gregory?" + +"Yes. Don't you remember? At the Middlemount? The first summa? He was +the headwaita--that student." + +Mrs. Lander jerked her head round on the pillow. "Well, of all the--What +does he want, over he'a?" + +"Nothing. That is--he's travelling with a pupil that he's preparing for +college, and--he came to see us"-- + +"D'you tell him I couldn't see him?" + +"Yes" + +"I guess he'd think I was a pretty changed pusson! Now, I want you +should stay with me, Clementina, and if anybody else comes"-- + +Maddalena entered the room with a card which she gave to the girl. + +"Who is it?" Mrs. Lander demanded. + +"Miss Milray." + +"Of cou'se! Well, you may just send wo'd that you can't--Or, no; you +must! She'd have it all ova the place, by night, that I wouldn't let +you see her. But don't you make any excuse for me! If she asks after +me, don't you say I'm sick! You say I'm not at home." + +"I've come about that little wretch," Miss Milray began, after kissing +Clementina. "I didn't know but you had heard something I hadn't, or I +had heard something you hadn't. You know I belong to the Hinkle +persuasion: I think Belsky's run his board--as Mr. Hinkle calls it." + +Clementina explained how this part of the Hinkle theory had failed, and +then Miss Milray devolved upon the belief that he had run his tailor's +bill or his shoemaker's. "They are delightful, those Russians, but +they're born insolvent. I don't believe he's drowned himself. How," she +broke off to ask, in a burlesque whisper, "is-the-old-tabby?" She +laughed, for answer to her own question, and then with another sudden +diversion she demanded of a look in Clementina's face which would not be +laughed away, "Well, my dear, what is it?" + +"Miss Milray," said the girl, "should you think me very silly, if I told +you something--silly?" + +"Not in the least!" cried Miss Milray, joyously. "It's the final proof +of your wisdom that I've been waiting for?" + +"It's because Mr. Belsky is all mixed up in it," said Clementina, as if +some excuse were necessary, and then she told the story of her love +affair with Gregory. Miss Milray punctuated the several facts with vivid +nods, but at the end she did not ask her anything, and the girl somehow +felt the freer to add: "I believe I will tell you his name. It is Mr. +Gregory--Frank Gregory"-- + +"And he's been in Egypt?" + +"Yes, the whole winta." + +"Then he's the one that my sister-in-law has been writing me about!" + +"Oh, did he meet her the'a?" + +"I should think so! And he'll meet her there, very soon. She's coming, +with my poor brother. I meant to tell you, but this ridiculous Belsky +business drove it out of my head." + +"And do you think," Clementina entreated, "that he was to blame?" + +"Why, I don't believe he's done it, you know." + +"Oh, I didn't mean Mr. Belsky. I meant--Mr. Gregory. For telling Mr. +Belsky?" + +"Certainly not. Men always tell those things to some one, I suppose. +Nobody was to blame but Belsky, for his meddling." + +Miss Milray rose and shook out her plumes for flight, as if she were +rather eager for flight, but at the little sigh with which Clementina +said, "Yes, that is what I thought," she faltered. + +"I was going to run away, for I shouldn't like to mix myself up in your +affair--it's certainly a very strange one--unless I was sure I could help +you. But if you think I can"-- + +Clementina shook her head. "I don't believe you can," she said, with a +candor so wistful that Miss Milray stopped quite short. "How does Mr. +Gregory take this Belsky business?" she asked. + +"I guess he feels it moa than I do," said the girl. + +"He shows his feeling more?" + +"Yes--no--He believes he drove him to it." + +Miss Milray took her hand, for parting, but did not kiss her. "I won't +advise you, my dear. In fact, yon haven't asked me to. You'll know what +to do, if you haven't done it already; girls usually have, when they want +advice. Was there something you were going to say?" + +"Oh, no. Nothing. Do you think," she hesitated, appealingly, "do you +think we are-engaged?" + +"If he's anything of a man at all, he must think he is." + +"Yes," said Clementina, wistfully, "I guess he does." + +Miss Milray looked sharply at her. "And does he think you are?" + +"I don't know--he didn't say." + +"Well," said Miss Milray, rather dryly, "then it's something for you to +think over pretty carefully." + + + + +XXVI. + +Hinkle came back in the afternoon to make a hopeful report of his failure +to learn anything more of Belsky, but Gregory did not come with him. He +came the next morning long before Clementina expected visitors, and he +was walking nervously up and down the room when she appeared. As if he +could not speak, he held toward her without speaking a telegram in +English, dated that day in Rome: + + "Deny report of my death. Have written. + + "Belsky." + +She looked up at Gregory from the paper, when she had read it, with +joyful eyes. "Oh, I am so glad for you! I am so glad he is alive." + +He took the dispatch from her hand. "I brought it to you as soon as it +came." + +"Yes, yes! Of cou'se!" + +"I must go now and do what he says--I don't know how yet." He stopped, +and then went on from a different impulse. "Clementina, it isn't a +question now of that wretch's life and death, and I wish I need never +speak of him again. But what he told you was true." He looked +steadfastly at her, and she realized how handsome he was, and how well +dressed. His thick red hair seemed to have grown darker above his +forehead; his moustache was heavier, and it curved in at the corners of +his mouth; he bore himself with a sort of self-disdain that enhanced his +splendor. "I have never changed toward you; I don't say it to make favor +with you; I don't expect to do that now; but it is true. That night, +there at Middlemount, I tried to take back what I said, because I +believed that I ought." + +"Oh, yes, I knew that," said Clementina, in the pause he made. + +"We were both too young; I had no prospect in life; I saw, the instant +after I had spoken, that I had no right to let you promise anything. +I tried to forget you; I couldn't. I tried to make you forget me." +He faltered, and she did not speak, but her head drooped a little. +"I won't ask how far I succeeded. I always hoped that the time would +come when I could speak to you again. When I heard from Fane that you +were at Woodlake, I wished to come out and see you, but I hadn't the +courage, I hadn't the right. I've had to come to you without either, +now. Did he speak to you about me?" + +"I thought he was beginning to, once; but he neva did." + +"It didn't matter; it could only have made bad worse. It can't help me +to say that somehow I was wishing and trying to do what was right; but I +was." + +"Oh, I know that, Mr. Gregory," said Clementina, generously. + +"Then you didn't doubt me, in spite of all?" + +"I thought you would know what to do. No, I didn't doubt you, exactly." + +"I didn't deserve your trust!" he cried. "How came that man to mention +me?" he demanded, abruptly, after a moment's silence. + +"Mr. Belsky? It was the first night I saw him, and we were talking about +Americans, and he began to tell me about an American friend of his, who +was very conscientious. I thought it must be you the fust moment," said +Clementina, smiling with an impersonal pleasure in the fact. + +"From the conscientiousness?" he asked, in bitter self-irony. + +"Why, yes," she returned, simply. "That was what made me think of you. +And the last time when he began to talk about you, I couldn't stop him, +although I knew he had no right to." + +"He had no right. But I gave him the power to do it! He meant no harm, +but I enabled him to do all the harm." + +"Oh, if he's only alive, now, there is no harm!" + +He looked into her eyes with a misgiving from which be burst impetuously. +"Then you do care for me still, after all that I have done to make you +detest me?" He started toward her, but she shrank back. + +"I didn't mean that," she hesitated. + +"You know that I love you,--that I have always loved you?" + +"Yes," she assented. "But you might be sorry again that you had said +it." It sounded like coquetry, but he knew it was not coquetry. + +"Never! I've wished to say it again, ever since that night at +Middlemount; I have always felt bound by what I said then, though I took +back my words for your sake. But the promise was always there, and my +life was in it. You believe that?" + +"Why, I always believed what you said, Mr. Gregory." + +"Well?" + +Clementina paused, with her head seriously on one side. "I should want +to think about it before I said anything." + +"You are right," he submitted, dropping his outstretched arms to his +side. "I have been thinking only of myself, as usual." + +"No," she protested, compassionately. "But doesn't it seem as if we +ought to be su'a, this time? I did ca'e for you then, but I was very +young, and I don't know yet--I thought I had always felt just; as you +did, but now--Don't you think we had both betta wait a little while till +we ah' moa suttain?" + +They stood looking at each other, and he said, with a kind of passionate +self-denial, "Yes, think it over for me, too. I will come back, if you +will let me." + +"Oh, thank you!" she cried after him, gratefully, as if his forbearance +were the greatest favor. + +When he was gone she tried to release herself from the kind of abeyance +in which she seemed to have gone back and been as subject to him as in +the first days when he had awed her and charmed her with his superiority +at Middlemount, and he again older and freer as she had grown since. + +He came back late in the afternoon, looking jaded and distraught. +Hinkle, who looked neither, was with him. "Well," he began, "this is the +greatest thing in my experience. Belsky's not only alive and well, but +Mr. Gregory and I are both at large. I did think, one time, that the +police would take us into custody on account of our morbid interest in +the thing, and I don't believe we should have got off, if the Consul +hadn't gone bail for us, so to speak. I thought we had better take the +Consul in, on our way, and it was lucky we did." + +Clementina did not understand all the implications, but she was willing +to take Mr. Hinkle's fun on trust. "I don't believe you'll convince Mrs. +Landa that Mr. Belsky's alive and well, till you bring him back to say +so." + +"Is that so!" said Hinkle. "Well, we must have him brought back by the +authorities, then. Perhaps they'll bring him, anyway. They can't try +him for suicide, but as I understand the police, here, a man can't lose +his hat over a bridge in Florence with impunity, especially in a time of +high water. Anyway, they're identifying Belsky by due process of law in +Rome, now, and I guess Mr. Gregory"--he nodded toward Gregory, who sat +silent and absent "will be kept under surveillance till the whole mystery +is cleared up." + +Clementina responded gayly still, but with less and less sincerity, and +she let Hinkle go at last with the feeling that he knew she wished him to +go. He made a brave show of not seeing this, and when he was gone, she +remembered that she had not thanked him for the trouble he had taken on +her account, and her heart ached after him with a sense of his sweetness +and goodness, which she had felt from the first through his quaint +drolling. It was as if the door which closed upon him shut her out of +the life she had been living of late, and into the life of the past where +she was subject again to the spell of Gregory's mood; it was hardly his +will. + +He began at once: "I wished to make you say something this morning that I +have no right to hear you say, yet; and I have been trying ever since to +think how I could ask you whether you could share my life with me, and +yet not ask you to do it. But I can't do anything without knowing-- +You may not care for what my life is to be, at all!" + +Clementina's head drooped a little, but she answered distinctly, "I do +ca'e, Mr. Gregory." + +"Thank you for that much; I don't count upon more than you have said. +Clementina, I am going to be a missionary. I think I shall ask to be +sent to China; I've not decided yet. My life will be hard; it will be +full of danger and privation; it will be exile. You will have to think +of sharing such a life if you think"-- + +He stopped; the time had come for her to speak, and she said, "I knew you +wanted to be a missionary"-- + +"And--and--you would go with me? You would"--He started toward her, and +she did not shrink from him, now; but he checked himself. "But you +mustn't, you know, for my sake." + +"I don't believe I quite undastand," she faltered. + +"You must not do it for me, but for what makes me do it. Without that +our life, our work, could have no consecration." + +She gazed at him in patient, faintly smiling bewilderment, as if it were +something he would unriddle for her when he chose. + +"We mustn't err in this; it would be worse than error; it would be sin." +He took a turn about the room, and then stopped before her. "Will you-- +will you join me in a prayer for guidance, Clementina?" + +"I--I don't know," she hesitated. "I will, but--do you think I had +betta?" + +He began, "Why, surely"--After a moment he asked gravely, "You believe +that our actions will be guided aright, if we seek help?" + +"Oh, yes--yes"-- + +"And that if we do not, we shall stumble in our ignorance?" + +"I don't know. I never thought of that." + +"Never thought of it"-- + +"We never did it in our family. Father always said that if we really +wanted to do right we could find the way." Gregory looked daunted, and +then he frowned darkly. "Are you provoked with me? Do you think what +I have said is wrong?" + +"No, no! You must say what you believe. It would be double hypocrisy in +me if I prevented you." + +"But I would do it, if you wanted me to," she said. + +"Oh, for me, for ME!" he protested. "I will try to tell you what I mean, +and why you must not, for that very reason." But he had to speak of +himself, of the miracle of finding her again by the means which should +have lost her to him forever; and of the significance of this. Then it +appeared to him that he could not reject such a leading without error, +without sin. "Such a thing could not have merely happened." + +It seemed so to Clementina, too; she eagerly consented that this was +something they must think of, as well. But the light waned, the dark +thickened in the room before he left her to do so. Then he said +fervently, "We must not doubt that everything will come right," and his +words seemed an effect of inspiration to them both. + + + + +XXVII. + +After Gregory was gone a misgiving began in Clementina's mind, which grew +more distinct, through all the difficulties of accounting to Mrs. Lander +for his long stay, The girl could see that it was with an obscure +jealousy that she pushed her questions, and said at last, "That Mr. +Hinkle is about the best of the lot. He's the only one that's eva had +the mannas to ask after me, except that lo'd. He did." + +Clementina could not pretend that Gregory had asked, but she could not +blame him for a forgetfulness of Mrs. Lander which she had shared with +him. This helped somehow to deepen the misgiving which followed her from +Mrs. Lander's bed to her own, and haunted her far into the night. She +could escape from it only by promising herself to deal with it the first +thing in the morning. She did this in terms much briefer than she +thought she could have commanded. She supposed she would have to write a +very long letter, but she came to the end of all she need say, in a very +few lines. + + DEAR MR. GREGORY: + + "I have been thinking about what you said yesterday, and I have to + tell you something. Then you can do what is right for both of us; + you will know better than I can. But I want you to understand that + if I go with you in your missionary life, I shall do it for you, and + not for anything else. I would go anywhere and live anyhow for you, + but it would be for you; I do not believe that I am religious, and I + know that I should not do it for religion. + + "That is all; but I could not get any peace till I let you know just + how I felt. + + "CLEMENTINA CLAXON." + +The letter went early in the morning, though not so early but it was put +in Gregory's hand as he was leaving his hotel to go to Mrs. Lander's. He +tore it open, and read it on the way, and for the first moment it seemed +as if it were Providence leading him that he might lighten Clementina's +heart of its doubts with the least delay. He had reasoned that if she +would share for his sake the life that he should live for righteousness' +sake they would be equally blest in it, and it would be equally +consecrated in both. But this luminous conclusion faded in his thought +as he hurried on, and he found himself in her presence with something +like a hope that she would be inspired to help him. + +His soul lifted at the sound of the gay voice in which she asked, "Did +you get my letta?" and it seemed for the instant as if there could be no +trouble that their love could not overcome. + +"Yes," he said, and he put his arms around her, but with a provisionality +in his embrace which she subtly perceived. + +"And what did you think of it?" she asked. "Did you think I was silly?" + +He was aware that she had trusted him to do away her misgiving. "No, +no," he answered, guiltily. "Wiser than I am, always. I--I want to talk +with you about it, Clementina. I want you to advise me." + +He felt her shrink from him, and with a pang he opened his arms to free +her. But it was right; he must. She had been expecting him to say that +there was nothing in her misgiving, and he could not say it. + +"Clementina," he entreated, "why do you think you are not religious?" + +"Why, I have never belonged to chu'ch," she answered simply. He looked +so daunted, that she tried to soften the blow after she had dealt it. +"Of course, I always went to chu'ch, though father and motha didn't. +I went to the Episcopal--to Mr. Richling's. But I neva was confirmed." + +"But-you believe in God?" + +"Why, certainly!" + +"And in the Bible?" + +"Why, of cou'se!" + +"And that it is our duty to bear the truth to those who have never heard +of it?" + +"I know that is the way you feel about it; but I am not certain that I +should feel so myself if you didn't want me to. That's what I got to +thinking about last night." She added hopefully, "But perhaps it isn't +so great a thing as I"-- + +"It's a very great thing," he said, and from standing in front of her, he +now sat down beyond a little table before her sofa. "How can I ask you +to share my life if you don't share my faith?" + +"Why, I should try to believe everything that you do, of cou'se." + +"Because I do?" + +"Well-yes." + +"You wring my heart! Are you willing to study--to look into these +questions--to--to"--It all seemed very hopeless, very absurd, but she +answered seriously: + +"Yes, but I believe it would all come back to just where it is, now." + +"What you say, Clementina, makes me so happy; but it ought to make me-- +miserable! And you would do all this, be all this for me, a wretched and +erring creature of the dust, and yet not do it for--God?" + +Clementina could only say, "Perhaps if He meant me to do it for Him, He +would have made me want to. He made you." + +"Yes," said Gregory, and for a long time he could not say any more. He +sat with his elbow on the table, and his head against his lifted hand. + +"You see," she began, gently, "I got to thinking that even if I eva came +to believe what you wanted me to, I should be doing it after all, because +you wanted me to"-- + +"Yes, yes," he answered, desolately. "There is no way out of it. If you +only hated me, Clementina, despised me--I don't mean that. But if you +were not so good, I could have a more hope for you--for myself. It's +because you are so good that I can't make myself wish to change you, and +yet I know--I am afraid that if you told me my life and objects were +wrong, I should turn from them, and be whatever you said. Do you tell me +that?" + +"No, indeed!" cried Clementina, with abhorrence. "Then I should despise +you." + +He seemed not to heed her. He moved his lips as if he were talking to +himself, and he pleaded, "What shall we do?" + +"We must try to think it out, and if we can't--if you can't let me give +up to you unless I do it for the same reason that you do; and if I can't +let you give up for me, and I know I could neva do that; then-- +we mustn't!" + +"Do you mean, we must part? Not see each other again?" + +"What use would it be?" + +"None," he owned. She had risen, and he stood up perforce. "May I--may +I come back to tell you?" + +"Tell me what?" she asked. + +"You are right! If I can't make it right, I won't come. But I won't say +good bye. I--can't." + +She let him go, and Maddalena came in at the door. "Signorina," she +said, "the signora is not well. Shall I send for the doctor?" + +"Yes, yes, Maddalena. Run!" cried Clementina, distractedly. She hurried +to Mrs. Lander's room, where she found her too sick for reproaches, for +anything but appeals for help and pity. The girl had not to wait for +Doctor Welwright's coming to understand that the attack was severer than +any before. + +It lasted through the day, and she could see that he was troubled. It +had not followed upon any imprudeuce, as Mrs. Lander pathetically called +Clementina to witness when her pain had been so far quelled that she +could talk of her seizure. + +He found her greatly weakened by it the next day, and he sat looking +thoughtfully at her before he said that she needed toning up. She caught +at the notion. "Yes, yes! That's what I need, docta! Toning up! +That's what I need." + +He suggested, "How would you like to try the sea air, and the baths--at +Venice?" + +"Oh, anything, anywhere, to get out of this dreadful hole! I ha'n't had +a well minute since I came. And Clementina," the sick woman whimpered, +"is so taken up all the time, he'a, that I can't get the right +attention." + +The doctor looked compassionately away from the girl, and said, "Well, +we must arrange about getting you off, then." + +"But I want you should go with me, doctor, and see me settled all right. +You can, can't you? I sha'n't ca'e how much it costs?" + +The doctor said gravely he thought he could manage it and he ignored the +long unconscious sigh of relief that Clementina drew. + +In all her confusing anxieties for Mrs. Lander, Gregory remained at the +bottom of her heart a dumb ache. When the pressure of her fears was +taken from her she began to suffer for him consciously; then a letter +came from him: + + "I cannot make it right. It is where it was, and I feel that I must + not see you again. I am trying to do right, but with the fear that + I am wrong. Send some word to help me before I go away to-morrow. + F. G." + +It was what she had expected, she knew now, but it was none the less to +be borne because of her expectation. She wrote back: + + "I believe you are doing the best you can, and I shall always + believe that." + +Her note brought back a long letter from him. He said that whatever he +did, or wherever he went, he should try to be true to her ideal of him. +If they renounced their love now for the sake of what seemed higher than +their love, they might suffer, but they could not choose but do as they +were doing. + +Clementina was trying to make what she could of this when Miss Milray's +name came up, and Miss Milray followed it. + +"I wanted to ask after Mrs. Lander, and I want you to tell her I did. +Will you? Dr. Welwright says he's going to take her to Venice. Well, +I'm sorry--sorry for your going, Clementina, and I'm truly sorry for the +cause of it. I shall miss you, my dear, I shall indeed. You know I +always wanted to steal you, but you'll do me the justice to say I never +did, and I won't try, now." + +"Perhaps I wasn't worth stealing," Clementina suggested, with a +ruefulness in her smile that went to Miss Milray's heart. + +She put her arms round her and kissed her. I wasn't very kind to you, the +other day, Clementina, was I?" + +"I don't know," Clementina faltered, with half-averted face. + +"Yes, you do! I was trying to make-believe that I didn't want to meddle +with your affairs; but I was really vexed that you hadn't told me your +story before. It hasn't taken me all this time to reflect that you +couldn't, but it has to make myself come and confess that I had been dry +and cold with you." She hesitated. "It's come out all right, hasn't it, +Clementina?" she asked, tenderly. "You see I want to meddle, now." + +"We ah' trying to think so," sighed the girl. + +"Tell me about it!" Miss Milray pulled her down on the sofa with her, and +modified her embrace to a clasp of Clementina's bands. + +"Why, there isn't much to tell," she began, but she told what there was, +and Miss Milray kept her countenance concerning the scruple that had +parted Clementina and her lover. "Perhaps he wouldn't have thought of +it," she said, in a final self-reproach, if I hadn't put it into his +head." + +"Well, then, I'm not sorry you put it into his head," cried Miss Milray. +"Clementina, may I say what I think of Mr. Gregory's performance?" + +"Why, certainly, Miss Milray!" + +I think he's not merely a gloomy little bigot, but a very hard-hearted +little wretch, and I'm glad you're rid of him. No, stop! Let me go on! +You said I might! she persisted, at a protest which imparted itself from +Clementina's restive hands. "It was selfish and cruel of him to let you +believe that he had forgotten you. It doesn't make it right now, when an +accident has forced him to tell you that he cared for you all along." + +"Why, do you look at it that way, Miss Milray? If he was doing it on my +account?" + +"He may think he was doing it on your account, but I think he was doing +it on his own. In such a thing as that, a man is bound by his mistakes, +if he has made any. He can't go back of them by simply ignoring them. +It didn't make it the same for you when he decided for your sake that he +would act as if he had never spoken to you." + +"I presume he thought that it would come right, sometime," Clementina +urged. "I did." + +"Yes, that was very well for you, but it wasn't at all well for him. He +behaved cruelly; there's no other word for it." + +"I don't believe he meant to be cruel, Miss Milray," said Clementina. + +"You're not sorry you've broken with him?" demanded Miss Milray, +severely, and she let go of Clementina's hands. + +"I shouldn't want him to think I hadn't been fai'a." + +"I don't understand what you mean by not being fair," said Miss Milray, +after a study of the girl's eyes. + +"I mean," Clementina explained, "that if I let him think the religion was +all the'e was, it wouldn't have been fai'a." + +Why, weren't you sincere about that?" + +"Of cou'se I was!" returned the girl, almost indignantly. "But if the'e +was anything else, I ought to have told him that, too; and I couldn't." + +"Then you can't tell me, of course?" Miss Milray rose in a little pique. + +"Perhaps some day I will," the girl entreated. "And perhaps that was +all." + +Miss Milray laughed. "Well, if that was enough to end it, I'm satisfied, +and I'll let you keep your mystery--if it is one--till we meet in Venice; +I shall be there early in June. Good bye, dear, and say good bye to Mrs. +Lander for me." + + + + +XXVIII. + +Dr. Welwright got his patient a lodging on the Grand Canal in Venice, and +decided to stay long enough to note the first effect of the air and the +baths, and to look up a doctor to leave her with. + +This took something more than a week, which could not all be spent in +Mrs. Lander's company, much as she wished it. There were hours which he +gave to going about in a gondola with Clementina, whom he forbade to be +always at the invalid's side. He tried to reassure her as to Mrs. +Lander's health, when be found her rather mute and absent, while they +drifted in the silvery sun of the late April weather, just beginning to +be warm, but not warm enough yet for the tent of the open gondola. He +asked her about Mrs. Lander's family, and Clementina could only tell him +that she had always said she had none. She told him the story of her own +relation to her, and he said, "Yes, I heard something of that from Miss +Milray." After a moment of silence, during which he looked curiously +into the girl's eyes, "Do you think you can bear a little more care, Miss +Claxon?" + +"I think I can," said Clementina, not very courageously, but patiently. + +"It's only this, and I wouldn't tell you if I hadn't thought you equal to +it. Mrs. Lander's case puzzles me: But I shall leave Dr. Tradonico +watching it, and if it takes the turn that there's a chance it may take, +he will tell you, and you'd better find out about her friends, and--let +them know. That's all." + +"Yes," said Clementina, as if it were not quite enough. Perhaps she did +not fully realize all that the doctor had intended; life alone is +credible to the young; life and the expectation of it. + +The night before he was to return to Florence there was a full moon; and +when he had got Mrs. Lander to sleep he asked Clementina if she would not +go out on the lagoon with him. He assigned no peculiar virtue to the +moonlight, and he had no new charge to give her concerning his patient +when they were embarked. He seemed to wish her to talk about herself, +and when she strayed from the topic, he prompted her return. Then he +wished to know how she liked Florence, as compared with Venice, and all +the other cities she had seen, and when she said she had not seen any but +Boston and New York, and London for one night, he wished to know whether +she liked Florence as well. She said she liked it best of all, and he +told her he was very glad, for he liked it himself better than any place +he had ever seen. He spoke of his family in America, which was formed of +grownup brothers and sisters, so that he had none of the closest and +tenderest ties obliging him to return; there was no reason why he should +not spend all his days in Florence, except for some brief visits home. +It would be another thing with such a place as Venice; he could never +have the same settled feeling there: it was beautiful, but it was unreal; +it would be like spending one's life at the opera. Did not she think so? + +She thought so, oh, yes; she never could have the home-feeling at Venice +that she had at Florence. + +"Exactly; that's what I meant--a home-feeling; I'm glad you had it." He +let the gondola dip and slide forward almost a minute before he added, +with an effect of pulling a voice up out of his throat somewhere, "How +would you like to live there--with me--as my wife?" + +"Why, what do you mean, Dr. Welwright?" asked Clementina, with a vague +laugh. + +Dr. Welwright laughed, too; but not vaguely; there was a mounting +cheerfulness in his laugh. "What I say. I hope it isn't very +surprising." + +"No; but I never thought of such a thing." + +"Perhaps you will think of it now." + +"But you're not in ea'nest!" + +"I'm thoroughly in earnest," said the doctor, and he seemed very much +amused at her incredulity. + +"Then; I'm sorry," she answered. "I couldn't." + +"No?" he said, still with amusement, or with a courage that took that +form. "Why not?" + +"Because I am--not free." + +For an interval they were so silent that they could hear each other +breathe: Then, after be had quietly bidden the gondolier go back to their +hotel, he asked, "If you had been free you might have answered me +differently?" + +"I don't know," said Clementina, candidly. "I never thought of it." + +"It isn't because you disliked me?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then I must get what comfort I can out of that. I hope, with all my +heart, that you may be happy." + +"Why, Dr. Welwright!" said Clementina. "Don't you suppose that I should +be glad to do it, if I could? Any one would!" + +"It doesn't seem very probable, just now," he answered, humbly. +"But I'll believe it if you say so." + +"I do say so, and I always shall." + +"Thank you." + +Dr. Welwright professed himself ready for his departure, at breakfast +next morning and he must have made his preparations very late or very +early. He was explicit in his charges to Clementina concerning Mrs. +Lander, and at the end of them, he said, "She will not know when she is +asking too much of you, but you will, and you must act upon your +knowledge. And remember, if you are in need of help, of any kind, you're +to let me know. Will you?" + +"Yes, I will, Dr. Welwright." + +"People will be going away soon, and I shall not be so busy. I can come +back if Dr. Tradonico thinks it necessary." + +He left Mrs. Lander full of resolutions to look after her own welfare in +every way, and she went out in her gondola the same morning. She was not +only to take the air as much as possible, but she was to amuse herself, +and she decided that she would have her second breakfast at the Caffe +Florian. Venice was beginning to fill up with arrivals from the south, +and it need not have been so surprising to find Mr. Hinkle there over a +cup of coffee. He said he had just that moment been thinking of her, and +meaning to look her up at the hotel. He said that he had stopped at +Venice because it was such a splendid place to introduce his gleaner; he +invited Mrs. Lander to become a partner in the enterprise; he promised +her a return of fifty per cent. on her investment. If he could once +introduce his gleaner in Venice, he should be a made man. He asked Mrs. +Lander, with real feeling, how she was; as for Miss Clementina, he need +not ask. + +"Oh, indeed, the docta thinks she wants a little lookin' after, too," +said Mrs. Lander. + +"Well, about as much as you do, Mrs. Lander," Hinkle allowed, tolerantly. +"I don't know how it affects you, ma'am, such a meeting of friends in +these strange waters, but it's building me right up. It's made another +man of me, already, and I've got the other man's appetite, too. Mind my +letting him have his breakfast here with me at your table?" He bade the +waiter just fetch his plate. He attached himself to them; he spent the +day with them. Mrs. Lander asked him to dinner at her lodgings, and left +him to Clementina over the coffee. + +"She's looking fine, doesn't the doctor think? This air will do +everything for her." + +"Oh, yes; she's a great deal betta than she was befo'e we came." + +"That's right. Well, now, you've got me here, you must let me make +myself useful any way I can. I've got a spare month that I can put in +here in Venice, just as well as not; I sha'n't want to push north till +the frost's out of the ground. They wouldn't have a chance to try my +gleaner, on the other side of the Alps much before September, anyway. +Now, in Ohio, the part I come from, we cut our wheat in June. When is +your wheat harvest at Middlemount?" + +Clementina laughed. "I don't believe we've got any. I guess it's all +grass." + +"I wish you could see our country out there, once." + +"Is it nice?" + +"Nice? We're right in the centre of the state, measuring from north to +south, on the old National Road." Clementina had never heard of this +road, but she did not say so. "About five miles back from the Ohio +River, where the coal comes up out of the ground, because there's so much +of it there's no room for it below. Our farm's in a valley, along a +creek bottom, what you Yankees call an intervals; we've got three hundred +acres. My grandfather took up the land, and then he went back to +Pennsylvania to get the girl he'd left there--we were Pennsylvania Dutch; +that's where I got my romantic name--they drove all the way out to Ohio +again in his buggy, and when he came in sight of our valley with his +bride, he stood up in his buggy and pointed with his whip. 'There! As +far as the sky is blue, it's all ours!'" + +Clementina owned the charm of his story as he seemed to expect, but when +he said, "Yes, I want you to see that country, some day," she answered +cautiously. + +"It must be lovely. But I don't expect to go West, eva." + +"I like your Eastern way of saying everr," said Hinkle, and he said it in +his Western way. "I like New England folks." + +Clementina smiled discreetly. "They have their faults like everybody +else, I presume." + +"Ah, that's a regular Yankee word: presume," said Hinkle. "Our teacher, +my first one, always said presume. She was from your State, too." + + + + +XXIX. + +In the time of provisional quiet that followed for Clementina, she was +held from the remorses and misgivings that had troubled her before Hinkle +came. She still thought that she had let Dr. Welwright go away believing +that she had not cared enough for the offer which had surprised her so +much, and she blamed herself for not telling him how doubly bound she was +to Gregory; though when she tried to put her sense of this in words to +herself she could not make out that she was any more bound to him than +she had been before they met in Florence, unless she wished to be so. +Yet somehow in this time of respite, neither the regret for Dr. Welwright +nor the question of Gregory persisted very strongly, and there were whole +days when she realized before she slept that she had not thought of +either. + +She was in full favor again with Mrs. Lander, whom there was no one to +embitter in her jealous affection. Hinkle formed their whole social +world, and Mrs. Lander made the most of him. She was always having him +to the dinners which her landlord served her from a restaurant in her +apartment, and taking him out with Clementina in her gondola. He came +into a kind of authority with them both which was as involuntary with him +as with them, and was like an effect of his constant wish to be doing +something for them. + +One morning when they were all going out in Mrs. Lander's gondola, she +sent Clementina back three times to their rooms for outer garments of +differing density. When she brought the last Mrs. Lander frowned. + +"This won't do. I've got to have something else--something lighter and +warma." + +"I can't go back any moa, Mrs. Landa," cried the girl, from the +exasperation of her own nerves. + +"Then I will go back myself," said Mrs. Lander with dignity, "and we +sha'n't need the gondoler any more this mo'ning," she added, "unless you +and Mr. Hinkle wants to ride." + +She got ponderously out of the boat with the help of the gondolier's +elbow, and marched into the house again, while Clementina followed her. +She did not offer to help her up the stairs; Hinkle had to do it, and he +met the girl slowly coming up as he returned from delivering Mrs. Lander +over to Maddalena. + +"She's all right, now," he ventured to say, tentatively. + +"Is she?" Clementina coldly answered. + +In spite of her repellent air, he persisted, "She's a pretty sick woman, +isn't she?" + +"The docta doesn't say." + +"Well, I think it would be safe to act on that supposition. Miss +Clementina--I think she wants to see you." + +"I'm going to her directly." + +Hinkle paused, rather daunted. "She wants me to go for the doctor." + +"She's always wanting the docta." Clementina lifted her eyes and looked +very coldly at him. + +"If I were you I'd go up right away," he said, boldly. + +She felt that she ought to resent his interference, but the mild entreaty +of his pale blue eyes, or the elder-brotherly injunction of his smile, +forbade her. "Did she ask for me?" + +"No." + +"I'll go to her," she said, and she kept herself from smiling at the long +sigh of relief he gave as she passed him on the stairs. + +Mrs. Lander began as soon as she entered her room, "Well, I was just +wonderin' if you was goin' to leave me here all day alone, while you +staid down the'e, carryin' on with that simpleton. I don't know what's +got into the men." + +"Mr. Hinkle has gone for the docta," said Clementina, trying to get into +her voice the kindness she was trying to feel. + +"Well, if I have one of my attacks, now, you'll have yourself to thank +for it." + +By the time Dr. Tradonico appeared Mrs. Lander was so much better that in +her revulsion of feeling she was all day rather tryingly affectionate in +her indirect appeals for Clementina's sympathy. + +"I don't want you should mind what I say, when I a'n't feelin' just +right," she began that evening, after she had gone to bed, and Clementina +sat looking out of the open window, on the moonlit lagoon. + +"Oh, no," the girl answered, wearily. + +Mrs. Lander humbled herself farther. "I'm real sorry I plagued you so, +to-day, and I know Mr. Hinkle thought I was dreadful, but I couldn't help +it. I should like to talk with you, Clementina, about something that's +worryin' me, if you a'n't busy." + +"I'm not busy, now, Mrs. Lander," said Clementina, a little coldly, and +relaxing the clasp of her hands; to knit her fingers together had been +her sole business, and she put even this away, + +She did not come nearer the bed, and Mrs. Lander was obliged to speak +without the advantage of noting the effect of her words upon her in her +face. "It's like this: What am I agoin' to do for them relations of Mr. +Landa's out in Michigan?" + +"I don't know. What relations?" + +"I told you about 'em: the only ones he's got: his half-sista's children. +He neva saw 'em, and he neva wanted to; but they're his kin, and it was +his money. It don't seem right to pass 'em ova. Do you think it would +yourself, Clementina?" + +"Why, of cou'se not, Mrs. Lander. It wouldn't be right at all." + +Mrs. Lander looked relieved, and she said, as if a little surprised, "I'm +glad you feel that way; I should feel just so, myself. I mean to do by +you just what I always said I should. I sha'n't forget you, but whe'e +the'e's so much I got to thinkin' the'e'd ought to some of it go to his +folks, whetha he ca'ed for 'em or not. It's worried me some, and I guess +if anything it's that that's made me wo'se lately." + +"Why by Mrs. Landa," said the girl, "Why don't you give it all to them?" + +"You don't know what you'a talkin' about," said Mrs. Lander, severely." I +guess if I give 'em five thousand or so amongst'em, it's full moa than +they eve thought of havin', and it's moa than they got any right to. +Well, that's all right, then; and we don't need to talk about it any moa. +Yes," she resumed, after a moment, "that's what I shall do. I hu'n't eva +felt just satisfied with that last will I got made, and I guess I shall +tear it up, and get the fust American lawyer that comes along to make me +a new one. The prop'ty's all goin' to you, but I guess I shall leave +five thousand apiece to the two families out the'e. You won't miss it, +any, and I presume it's what Mr. Landa would expect I should do; though +why he didn't do it himself, I can't undastand, unless it was to show his +confidence in me." + +She began to ask Clementina how she felt about staying in Venice all +summer; she said she had got so much better there already that she +believed she should be well by fall if she stayed on. She was certain +that it would put her all back if she were to travel now, and in Europe, +where it was so hard to know how to get to places, she did not see how +they could pick out any that would suit them as well as Venice did. + +Clementina agreed to it all, more or less absentmindedly, as she sat +looking into the moonlight, and the day that had begun so stormily ended +in kindness between them. + +The next morning Mrs. Lander did not wish to go out, and she sent +Clementina and Hinkle together as a proof that they were all on good +terms again. She did not spare the girl this explanation in his +presence, and when they were in the gondola he felt that he had to say, +"I was afraid you might think I was rather meddlesome yesterday." + +"Oh, no," she answered. "I was glad you did." + +"Yes," he returned, "I thought you would be afterwards." He looked at +her wistfully with his slanted eyes and his odd twisted smile and they +both gave way in the same conscious laugh. "What I like," he explained +further, "is to be understood when I've said something that doesn't mean +anything, don't you? You know anybody can understand you if you really +mean something; but most of the time you don't, and that's when a friend +is useful. I wish you'd call on me if you're ever in that fix." + +"Oh, I will, Mr. Hinkle," Clementina promised, gayly. + +"Thank you," he said, and her gayety seemed to turn him graver. "Miss +Clementina, might I go a little further in this direction, without +danger?" + +"What direction?" she added, with a flush of sudden alarm. + +"Mrs. Lander." + +"Why, suttainly!" she answered, in quick relief. + +"I wish you'd let me do some of the worrying about her for you, while I'm +here. You know I haven't got anything else to do!" + +"Why, I don't believe I worry much. I'm afraid I fo'get about her when +I'm not with her. That's the wo'st of it." + +"No, no," he entreated, "that's the best of it. But I want to do the +worrying for you even when you're with her. Will you let me?" + +"Why, if you want to so very much." + +"Then it's settled," he said, dismissing the subject. + +But she recurred to it with a lingering compunction. + +"I presume that I don't remember how sick she is because I've neva been +sick at all, myself." + +"Well," he returned, "You needn't be sorry for that altogether. There +are worse things than being well, though sick people don't always think +so. I've wasted a good deal of time the other way, though I've reformed, +now." + +They went on to talk about themselves; sometimes they talked about +others, in excursions which were more or less perfunctory, and were +merely in the way of illustration or instance. She got so far in one of +these as to speak of her family, and he seemed to understand them. He +asked about them all, and he said he believed in her father's unworldly +theory of life. He asked her if they thought at home that she was like +her father, and he added, as if it followed, "I'm the worldling of my +family. I was the youngest child, and the only boy in a flock of girls. +That always spoils a boy." + +"Are you spoiled?" she asked. + +"Well, I'm afraid they'd be surprised if I didn't come to grief somehow-- +all but--mother; she expects I'll be kept from harm." + +"Is she religious?" + +"Yes, she's a Moravian. Did you ever hear of them?" Clementina shook +her head. "They're something, like the Quakers, and something like the +Methodists. They don't believe in war; but they have bishops." + +"And do you belong to her church?" + +"No," said the young man. "I wish I did, for her sake. I don't belong to +any. Do you?" + +"No, I go to the Episcopal, at home. Perhaps I shall belong sometime. +But I think that is something everyone must do for themselves." He +looked a little alarmed at the note of severity in her voice, and she +explained. "I mean that if you try to be religious for anything besides +religion, it isn't being religious;--and no one else has any right to ask +you to be." + +"Oh, that's what I believe, too," he said, with comic relief. "I didn't +know but I'd been trying to convert you without knowing it." They both +laughed, and were then rather seriously silent. + +He asked, after a moment, in a fresh beginning, "Have you heard from Miss +Milray since you left Florence?" + +"Oh, yes, didn't I tell you? She's coming here in June." + +"Well, she won't have the pleasure of seeing me, then. I'm going the +last of May." + +"I thought you were going to stay a month!" she protested. + +"That will be a month; and more, too." + +"So it will," she owned. + +"I'm glad it doesn't seem any longer-say a year--Miss Clementina!" + +"Oh, not at all," she returned. "Miss Milray's brother and his wife are +coming with her. They've been in Egypt." + +"I never saw them," said Hinkle. He paused, before he added, "Well, it +would seem rather crowded after they get here, I suppose," and he +laughed, while Clementina said nothing. + + + + +XXX. + +Hinkle came every morning now, to smoothe out the doubts and difficulties +that had accumulated in Mrs. Lander's mind over night, and incidentally +to propose some pleasure for Clementina, who could feel that he was +pitying her in her slavery to the sick woman's whims, and yet somehow +entreating her to bear them. He saw them together in what Mrs. Lander +called her well days; but there were other days when he saw Clementina +alone, and then she brought him word from Mrs. Lander, and reported his +talk to her after he went away. On one of these she sent him a +cheerfuller message than usual, and charged the girl to explain that she +was ever so much better, but had not got up because she felt that every +minute in bed was doing her good. Clementina carried back his regrets +and congratulation, and then told Mrs. Lander that he had asked her to go +out with him to see a church, which he was sorry Mrs. Lander could not +see too. He professed to be very particular about his churches, for he +said he had noticed that they neither of them had any great gift for +sights, and he had it on his conscience to get the best for them. He +told Clementina that the church he had for them now could not be better +if it had been built expressly for them, instead of having been used as a +place of worship for eight or ten generations of Venetians before they +came. She gave his invitation to Mrs. Lander, who could not always be +trusted with his jokes, and she received it in the best part. + +"Well, you go!" she said. "Maddalena can look after me, I guess. He's +the only one of the fellas, except that lo'd, that I'd give a cent for." +She added, with a sudden lapse from her pleasure in Hinkle to her +severity with Clementina, "But you want to be ca'eful what you' doin'." + +"Ca'eful?" + +"Yes!--About Mr. Hinkle. I a'n't agoin' to have you lead him on, and +then say you didn't know where he was goin'. I can't keep runnin' away +everywhe'e, fo' you, the way I done at Woodlake." + +Clementina's heart gave a leap, whether joyful or woeful; but she +answered indignantly, "How can you say such a thing to me, Mrs. Lander. +I'm not leading him on!" + +"I don't know what you call it. You're round with him in the gondoler, +night and day, and when he's he'e, you'a settin' with him half the time +on the balcony, and it's talk, talk, the whole while." Clementina took +in the fact with silent recognition, and Mrs. Lander went on. "I ain't +sayin' anything against it. He's the only one I don't believe is afta +the money he thinks you'a goin' to have; but if you don't want him, you +want to look what you're about." + +The girl returned to Hinkle in the embarrassment which she was helpless +to hide, and without the excuse which she could not invent for refusing +to go with him. "Is Mrs. Lander worse--or anything?" he asked. + +"Oh, no. She's quite well," said Clementina; but she left it for him to +break the constraint in which they set out. He tried to do so at +different points, but it seemed to close upon them--the more inflexibly. +At last he asked, as they were drawing near the church, "Have you ever +seen anything of Mr. Belsky since you left Florence?" + +"No," she said, with a nervous start. "What makes you ask?" + +"I don't know. But you see nearly everybody again that you meet in your +travels. That friend of his--that Mr. Gregory--he seems to have dropped +out, too. I believe you told me you used to know him in America." + +"Yes," she answered, briefly; she could not say more; and Hinkle went on. +"It seemed to me, that as far as I could make him out, he was about as +much of a crank in his way as the Russian. It's curious, but when you +were talking about religion, the other day, you made me think of him!" +The blood went to Clementina's heart. "I don't suppose you had him in +mind, but what you said fitted him more than anyone I know of. I could +have almost believed that he had been trying to convert you!" She stared +at him, and he laughed. "He tackled me one day there in Florence all of +a sudden, and I didn't know what to say, exactly. Of course, I respected +his earnestness; but I couldn't accept his view of things and I tried to +tell him so. I had to say just where I stood, and why, and I mentioned +some books that helped to get me there. He said he never read anything +that went counter to his faith; and I saw that he didn't want to save me, +so much as be wanted to convince me. He didn't know it, and I didn't +tell him that I knew it, but I got him to let me drop the subject. He +seems to have been left over from a time when people didn't reason about +their beliefs, but only argued. I didn't think there was a man like that +to be found so late in the century, especially a young man. But that was +just where I was mistaken. If there was to be a man of that kind at all, +it would have to be a young one. He'll be a good deal opener-minded when +he's older. He was conscientious; I could see that; and he did take the +Russian's death to heart as long as he was dead. But I'd like to talk +with him ten years from now; he wouldn't be where he is." + +Clementina was still silent, and she walked up the church steps from the +gondola without the power to speak. She made no show of interest in the +pictures and statues; she never had really cared much for such things, +and now his attempts to make her look at them failed miserably. When +they got back again into the boat he began, "Miss Clementina, I'm afraid +I oughtn't to have spoken as I did of that Mr. Gregory. If he is a +friend of yours"-- + +"He is," she made herself answer. + +"I didn't mean anything against him. I hope you don't think I wanted to +be unfair?" + +"You were not unfair. But I oughtn't to have let you say it, Mr. Hinkle. +I want to tell you something--I mean, I must"--She found herself panting +and breathless. "You ought to know it--Mr. Gregory is--I mean we are"-- + +She stopped and she saw that she need not say more. + +In the days that followed before the time that Hinkle had $xed to leave +Venice, he tried to come as he had been coming, to see Mrs. Lander, but +he evaded her when she wished to send him out with Clementina. His +quaintness had a heartache in it for her; and he was boyishly simple in +his failure to hide his suffering. He had no explicit right to suffer, +for he had asked nothing and been denied nothing, but perhaps for this +reason she suffered the more keenly for him. + +A senseless resentment against Gregory for spoiling their happiness crept +into her heart; and she wished to show Hinkle how much she valued his +friendship at any risk and any cost. When this led her too far she took +herself to task with a severity which hurt him too. In the midst of the +impulses on which she acted, there were times when she had a confused +longing to appeal to him for counsel as to how she ought to behave toward +him. + +There was no one else whom she could appeal to. Mrs. Lander, after her +first warning, had not spoken of him again, though Clementina could feel +in the grimness with which she regarded her variable treatment of him +that she was silently hoarding up a sum of inculpation which would crush +her under its weight when it should fall upon her. She seemed to be +growing constantly better, now, and as the interval since her last attack +widened behind her, she began to indulge her appetite with a recklessness +which Clementina, in a sense of her own unworthiness, was helpless to +deal with. When she ventured to ask her once whether she ought to eat of +something that was very unwholesome for her, Mrs. Lander answered that +she had taken her case into her own hands, now, for she knew more about +it than all the doctors. She would thank Clementina not to bother about +her; she added that she was at least not hurting anybody but herself, and +she hoped Clementina would always be able to say as much. + +Clementina wished that Hinkle would go away, but not before she had +righted herself with him, and he lingered his month out, and seemed as +little able to go as she to let him. She had often to be cheerful for +both, when she found it too much to be cheerful for herself. In his +absence she feigned free and open talks with him, and explained +everything, and experienced a kind of ghostly comfort in his imagined +approval and forgiveness, but in his presence, nothing really happened +except the alternation of her kindness and unkindness, in which she was +too kind and then too unkind. + +The morning of the' day he was at last to leave Venice, he came to say +good bye. He did not ask for Mrs. Lander, when the girl received him, +and he did not give himself time to lose courage before he began, "Miss +Clementina, I don't know whether I ought to speak to you after what I +understood you to mean about Mr. Gregory." He looked steadfastly at her +but she did not answer, and he went on. "There's just one chance in a +million, though, that I didn't understand you rightly, and I've made up +my mind that I want to take that chance. May I?" She tried to speak, +but she could not. "If I was wrong--if there was nothing between you and +him--could there ever be anything beween you and me?" + +His pleading looks entreated her even more than his words. + +"There was something," she answered, "with him." + +"And I mustn't know what," the young man said patiently. + +"Yes--yes!" she returned eagerly. "Oh, yes! I want you to know--I want +to tell you. I was only sixteen yea's old, and he said that he oughtn't +to have spoken; we were both too young. But last winta he spoke again. +He said that he had always felt bound"--She stopped, and he got infirmly +to his feet. "I wanted to tell you from the fust, but"-- + +"How could you? You couldn't. I haven't anything more to say, if you +are bound to him." + +"He is going to be a missionary and he wanted me to say that I would +believe just as he did; and I couldn't. But I thought that it would come +right; and--yes, I felt bound to him, too. That is all--I can't explain +it!" + +"Oh, I understand!" he returned, listlessly. + +"And do you blame me for not telling before?" She made an involuntary +movement toward him, a pathetic gesture which both entreated and +compassionated. + +"There's nobody to blame. You have tried to do just right by me, as well +as him. Well, I've got my answer. Mrs. Lander--can I"-- + +"Why, she isn't up yet, Mr. Hinkle." Clementina put all her pain for him +into the expression of their regret. + +"Then I'll have to leave my good-bye for her with you. I don't believe I +can come back again." He looked round as if he were dizzy. "Good-bye," +he said, and offered his hand. It was cold as clay. + +When he was gone, Clementina went into Mrs: Lander's room, and gave her +his message. + +"Couldn't he have come back this aftanoon to see me, if he ain't goin' +till five?" she demanded jealously. + +"He said he couldn't come back," Clementina answered sadly. + +The woman turned her head on her pillow and looked at the girl's face. +"Oh!" she said for all comment. + + + + +XXXI. + +The Milrays came a month later, to seek a milder sun than they had left +burning in Florence. The husband and wife had been sojourning there +since their arrival from Egypt, but they had not been his sister's +guests, and she did not now pretend to be of their party, though the same +train, even the same carriage, had brought her to Venice with them. They +went to a hotel, and Miss Milray took lodgings where she always spent her +Junes, before going to the Tyrol for the summer. + +"You are wonderfully improved, every way," Mrs. Milray said to Clementina +when they met. "I knew you would be, if Miss Milray took you in hand; +and I can see she has. What she doesn't know about the world isn't worth +knowing! I hope she hasn't made you too worldly? But if she has, she's +taught you how to keep from showing it; you're just as innocent-looking +as ever, and that's the main thing; you oughtn't to lose that. You +wouldn't dance a skirt dance now before a ship's company, but if you did, +no one would suspect that you knew any better. Have you forgiven me, +yet? Well, I didn't use you very well, Clementina, and I never pretended +I did. I've eaten a lot of humble pie for that, my dear. Did Miss +Milray tell you that I wrote to her about it? Of course you won't say +how she told you; but she ought to have done me the justice to say that I +tried to be a friend at court with her for you. If she didn't, she +wasn't fair." + +"She neva said anything against you, Mrs. Milray," Clementina answered. + +"Discreet as ever, my dear! I understand! And I hope you understand +about that old affair, too, by this time. It was a complication. I had +to get back at Lioncourt somehow; and I don't honestly think now that his +admiration for a young girl was a very wholesome thing for her. But +never mind. You had that Boston goose in Florence, too, last winter, +and I suppose he gobbled up what little Miss Milray had left of me. But +she's charming. I could go down on my knees to her art when she really +tries to finish any one." + +Clementina noticed that Mrs. Milray had got a new way of talking. She +had a chirpiness, and a lift in her inflections, which if it was not +exactly English was no longer Western American. Clementina herself in +her association with Hinkle had worn off her English rhythm, and in her +long confinement to the conversation of Mrs. Lander, she had reverted to +her clipped Yankee accent. Mrs. Milray professed to like it, and said it +brought back so delightfully those pleasant days at Middlemount, when +Clementina really was a child. "I met somebody at Cairo, who seemed very +glad to hear about you, though he tried to seem not. Can you guess who +it was? I see that you never could, in the world! We got quite chummy +one day, when we were going out to the pyramids together, and he gave +himself away, finely. He's a simple soul! But when they're in love +they're all so! It was a little queer, colloguing with the ex-headwaiter +on society terms; but the head-waitership was merely an episode, and the +main thing is that he is very talented, and is going to be a minister. +It's a pity he's so devoted to his crazy missionary scheme. Some one +ought to get hold of him, and point him in the direction of a rich New +York congregation. He'd find heathen enough among them, and he could do +the greatest amount of good with their money; I tried to talk it into +him. I suppose you saw him in Florence, this spring?" she suddenly +asked. + +"Yes," Clementina answered briefly. + +"And you didn't make it up together. I got that much out of Miss Milray. +Well, if he were here, I should find out why. But I don't suppose you +would tell me." She waited a moment to see if Clementina would, and then +she said, "It's a pity, for I've a notion I could help you, and I think I +owe you a good turn, for the way I behaved about your dance. But if you +don't want my help, you don't." + +"I would say so if I did, Mrs. Milray," said Clementina. "I was hu't, +at the time; but I don't care anything for it, now. I hope you won't +think about it any more!" + +"Thank you," said Mrs. Milray, "I'll try not to," and she laughed. "But +I should like to do something to prove my repentance." + +Clementina perceived that for some reason she would rather have more than +less cause for regret; and that she was mocking her; but she was without +the wish or the power to retaliate, and she did not try to fathom Mrs. +Milray's motives. Most motives in life, even bad motives, lie nearer the +surface than most people commonly pretend, and she might not have had to +dig deeper into Mrs. Milray's nature for hers than that layer of her +consciousness where she was aware that Clementina was a pet of her +sister-in-law. For no better reason she herself made a pet of Mrs. +Lander, whose dislike of Miss Milray was not hard to divine, and whose +willingness to punish her through Clementina was akin to her own. The +sick woman was easily flattered back into her first belief in Mrs. Milray +and accepted her large civilities and small services as proof of her +virtues. She began to talk them into Clementina, and to contrast them +with the wicked principles and actions of Miss Milray. + +The girl had forgiven Mrs. Milray, but she could not go back to any trust +in her; and she could only passively assent to her praise. When Mrs. +Lander pressed her for anything more explicit she said what she thought, +and then Mrs. Lander accused her of hating Mrs. Milray, who was more her +friend than some that flattered her up for everything, and tried to make +a fool of her. + +"I undastand now," she said one day, "what that recta meant by wantin' me +to make life ba'd for you; he saw how easy you was to spoil. Miss Milray +is one to praise you to your face, and disgrace you be hind your back, +and so I tell you. When Mrs. Milray thought you done wrong she come and +said so; and you can't forgive her." + +Clementina did not answer. She had mastered the art of reticence in her +relations with Mrs. Lander, and even when Miss Milray tempted her one day +to give way, she still had strength to resist. But she could not deny +that Mrs. Lander did things at times to worry her, though she ended +compassionately with the reflection: "She's sick." + +"I don't think she's very sick, now," retorted her friend. + +"No; that's the reason she's so worrying. When she's really sick, she's +betta." + +"Because she's frightened, I suppose. And how long do you propose to +stand it? + +"I don't know," Clementina listlessly answered. + +"She couldn't get along without me. I guess I can stand it till we go +home; she says she is going home in the fall." + +Miss Milray sat looking at the girl a moment. + +"Shall you be glad to go home?" + +"Oh yes, indeed!" + +"To that place in the woods?" + +"Why, yes! What makes you ask?" + +"Nothing. But Clementina, sometimes I think you don't quite understand +yourself. Don't you know that you are very pretty and very charming? +I've told you that often enough! But shouldn't you like to be a great +success in the world? Haven't you ever thought of that? Don't you care +for society?" + +The girl sighed. "Yes, I think that's all very nice I did ca'e, one +while, there in Florence, last winter!" + +"My dear, you don't know how much you were admired. I used to tell you, +because I saw there was no spoiling you; but I never told you half. If +you had only had the time for it you could have been the greatest sort of +success; you were formed for it. It wasn't your beauty alone; lots of +pretty girls don't make anything of their beauty; it was your +temperament. You took things easily and naturally, and that's what the +world likes. It doesn't like your being afraid of it, and you were not +afraid, and you were not bold; you were just right." Miss Milray grew +more and more exhaustive in her analysis, and enjoyed refining upon it. +"All that you needed was a little hard-heartedness, and that would have +come in time; you would have learned how to hold your own, but the chance +was snatched from you by that old cat! I could weep over you when I +think how you have been wasted on her, and now you're actually willing to +go back and lose yourself in the woods!" + +"I shouldn't call it being lost, Miss Milray." + +"I don't mean that, and you must excuse me, my dear. But surely your +people--your father and mother--would want to have you get on in the +world--to make a brilliant match"-- + +Clementina smiled to think how far such a thing was from their +imaginations. "I don't believe they would ca'e. You don't undastand +about them, and I couldn't make you. Fatha neva liked the notion of my +being with such a rich woman as Mrs. Lander, because it would look as if +we wanted her money." + +"I never could have imagined that of you, Clementina!" + +"I didn't think you could," said the girl gratefully. "But now, if I +left her when she was sick and depended on me, it would look wohse, yet-- +as if I did it because she was going to give her money to Mr. Landa's +family. She wants to do that, and I told her to; I think that would be +right; don't you?" + +"It would be right for you, Clementina, if you preferred it--and--I +should prefer it. But it wouldn't be right for her. She has given you +hopes--she has made promises--she has talked to everybody." + +"I don't ca'e for that. I shouldn't like to feel beholden to any one, +and I think it really belongs to his relations; it was HIS." + +Miss Milray did not say anything to this. She asked, "And if you went +back, what would you do there? Labor in the fields, as poor little +Belsky advised?" + +Clementina laughed. "No; but I expect you'll think it's almost as crazy. +You know how much I like dancing? Well, I think I could give dancing +lessons at the Middlemount. There are always a good many children, and +girls that have not grown up, and I guess I could get pupils enough, as +long as the summa lasted; and come winter, I'm not afraid but what I +could get them among the young folks at the Center. I used to teach them +before I left home." + +Miss Milray sat looking at her. "I don't know about such things; but it +sounds sensible--like everything about you, my dear. It sounds queer, +perhaps because you're talking of such a White Mountain scheme here in +Venice." + +"Yes, don't it?" said Clementina, sympathetically. "I was thinking of +that, myself. But I know I could do it. I could go round to different +hotels, different days. Yes, I should like to go home, and they would be +glad to have me. You can't think how pleasantly we live; and we're +company enough for each other. I presume I should miss the things I've +got used to ova here, at fust; but I don't believe I should care a great +while. I don't deny but what the wo'ld is nice; but you have to pay for +it; I don't mean that you would make me"-- + +"No, no! We understand each other. Go on!" + +Miss Milray leaned towards her and pressed the girl's arm reassuringly. + +As often happens with people when they are told to go on, Clementina +found that she had not much more to say. "I think I could get along in +the wo'ld, well enough. Yes, I believe I could do it. But I wasn't bohn +to it, and it would be a great deal of trouble--a great deal moa than if +I had been bohn to it. I think it would be too much trouble. I would +rather give it up and go home, when Mrs. Landa wants to go back." + +Miss Milray did not speak for a time. "I know that you are serious, +Clementina; and you're wise always, and good"-- + +"It isn't that, exactly," said Clementina. "But is it--I don't know how +to express it very well--is it wo'th while?" + +Miss Milray looked at her as if she doubted the girl's sincerity. Even +when the world, in return for our making it our whole life, disappoints +and defeats us with its prizes, we still question the truth of those who +question the value of these prizes; we think they must be hopeless of +them, or must be governed by some interest momentarily superior. + +Clementina pursued, "I know that you have had all you wanted of the +wo'ld"-- + +"Oh, no!" the woman broke out, almost in anguish. "Not what I wanted! +What I tried for. It never gave me what I wanted. It--couldn't!" + +"Well?" + +"It isn't worth while in that sense. But if you can't have what you +want,--if there's been a hollow left in your life--why the world goes a +great way towards filling up the aching void." The tone of the last +words was lighter than their meaning, but Clementina weighed them aright. + +"Miss Milray," she said, pinching the edge of the table by which she sat, +a little nervously, and banging her head a little, "I think I can have +what I want." Then, give the whole world for it, child!" + +"There is something I should like to tell you." + +"Yes!" + +"For you to advise me about." + +"I will, my dear, gladly and truly!" + +"He was here before you came. He asked me"-- + +Miss Milray gave a start of alarm. She said, to gain time: "How did he +get here? I supposed he was in Germany with his"-- + +"No; he was here the whole of May." + +"Mr. Gregory!" + +"Mr. Gregory?" Clementina's face flushed and drooped Still lower. +"I meant Mr. Hinkle. But if you think I oughtn't"-- + +"I don't think anything; I'm so glad! I supposed from what you said +about the world, that it must be--But if it isn't, all the better. If +it's Mr. Hinkle that you can have"-- + +"I'm not sure I can. I should like to tell you just how it is, and then +you will know." It needed fewer words for this than she expected, and +then Clementina took a letter from her pocket, and gave it to Miss +Milray. "He wrote it on the train, going away, and it's not very plain; +but I guess you can make it out." + +Miss Milray received the penciled leaves, which seemed to be pages torn +out of a note-book. They were dated the day Hinkle left Venice, and the +envelope bore the postmark of Verona. They were not addressed, but began +abruptly: "I believe I have made a mistake; I ought not to have given you +up till I knew something that no one but you can tell me. You are not +bound to any body unless you wish to be so. That is what I see now, and +I will not give you up if I can help it. Even if you had made a promise, +and then changed your mind, you would not be bound in such a thing as +this. I say this, and I know you will not believe I say it because I +want you. I do want you, but I would not urge you to break your faith. +I only ask you to realize that if you kept your word when your heart had +gone out of it, you would be breaking your faith; and if you broke your +word you would be keeping your faith. But if your heart is still in your +word, I have no more to say. Nobody knows but you. I would get out and +take the first train back to Venice if it were not for two things. I +know it would be hard on me; and I am afraid it might be hard on you. +But if you will write me a line at Milan, when you get this, or if you +will write to me at London before July; or at New York at any time--for I +expect to wait as long as I live"-- + +The letter ended here in the local addresses which the writer gave. + +Miss Milray handed the leaves back to Clementina, who put them into her +pocket, and apparently waited for her questions. + +"And have you written?" + +"No," said the girl, slowly and thoughtfully, "I haven't. I wanted to, +at fust; and then, I thought that if he truly meant what he said he would +be willing to wait." + +"And why did you want to wait?" + +Clementina replied with a question of her own. "Miss Milray, what do you +think about Mr. Gregory?" + +"Oh, you mustn't ask me that, my dear! I was afraid I had told you too +plainly, the last time." + +"I don't mean about his letting me think he didn't ca'e for me, so long. +But don't you think he wants to do what is right! Mr. Gregory, I mean." + +"Well, if you put me on my honor, I'm afraid I do." + +"You see," Clementina resumed. "He was the fust one, and I did ca'e for +him a great deal; and I might have gone on caring for him, if--When I +found out that I didn't care any longer, or so much, it seemed to me as +if it must be wrong. Do you think it was?" + +"No-no." + +"When I got to thinking about some one else at fust it was only not +thinking about him--I was ashamed. Then I tried to make out that I was +too young in the fust place, to know whether I really ca'ed for any one +in the right way; but after I made out that I was, I couldn't feel +exactly easy--and I've been wanting to ask you, Miss Milray"-- + +"Ask me anything you like, my dear!" + +"Why, it's only whether a person ought eva to change." + +"We change whether we ought, or not. It isn't a matter of duty, one way +or another." + +"Yes, but ought we to stop caring for somebody, when perhaps we shouldn't +if somebody else hadn't come between? That is the question." + +"No," Miss Milray retorted, "that isn't at all the question. The +question is which you want and whether you could get him. Whichever you +want most it is right for you to have." + +"Do you truly think so?" + +"I do, indeed. This is the one thing in life where one may choose safest +what one likes best; I mean if there is nothing bad in the man himself." + +"I was afraid it would be wrong! That was what I meant by wanting to be +fai'a with Mr. Gregory when I told you about him there in Florence. I +don't believe but what it had begun then." + +"What had begun?" + +"About Mr. Hinkle." + +Miss Milray burst into a laugh. "Clementina, you're delicious!" +The girl looked hurt, and Miss Milray asked seriously, "Why do you like +Mr. Hinkle best--if you do?" + +Clementina sighed. "Oh, I don't know. He's so resting." + +"Then that settles it. From first to last, what we poor women want is +rest. It would be a wicked thing for you to throw your life away on some +one who would worry you out of it. I don't wish to say any thing against +Mr. Gregory. I dare say be is good--and conscientious; but life is a +struggle, at the best, and it's your duty to take the best chance for +resting." + +Clementina did not look altogether convinced, whether it was Miss +Milray's logic or her morality that failed to convince her. She said, +after a moment, "I should like to see Mr. Gregory again." + +"What good would that do?" + +"Why, then I should know." + +"Know what?" + +"Whether I didn't really ca'e for him any more--or so much." + +"Clementina," said Miss Milray, "you mustn't make me lose patience with +you"-- + +"No. But I thought you said that it was my duty to do what I wished." + +"Well, yes. That is what I said," Miss Milray consented. "But I +supposed that you knew already." + +"No," said Clementina, candidly, "I don't believe I do." + +"And what if you don't see him?" + +"I guess I shall have to wait till I do. The'e will be time enough." + +Miss Milray sighed, and then she laughed. "You ARE young!" + + + + +XXXII. + +Miss Milray went from Clementina to call upon her sister-in-law, and +found her brother, which was perhaps what she hoped might happen. + +"Do you know," she said, "that that old wretch is going to defraud that +poor thing, after all, and leave her money to her husband's half-sister's +children?" + +"You wish me to infer the Mrs. Lander--Clementina situation?" Milray +returned. + +"Yes!" + +"I'm glad you put it in terms that are not actionable, then; for your +words are decidedly libellous." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I've just been writing Mrs. Lander's will for her, and she's left all +her property to Clementina, except five thousand apiece to the half- +sister's three children." + +"I can't believe it!" + +"Well," said Milray, with his gentle smile, "I think that's safe ground +for you. Mrs. Lander will probably have time enough to change her will +as well as her mind several times yet before she dies. The half-sister's +children may get their rights yet." + +"I wish they might!" said Miss Milray, with an impassioned sigh. "Then +perhaps I should get Clementina--for a while." + +Her brother laughed. "Isn't there somebody else wants Clementina? + +"Oh, plenty. But she's not sure she wants anybody else." + +"Does she want you?" + +"No, I can't say she does. She wants to go home." + +"That's not a bad scheme. I should like to go home myself if I had one. +What would you have done with Clementina if you had got her, Jenny?" + +"What would any one have done with her? Married her brilliantly, of +course." + +"But you say she isn't sure she wishes to be married at all?" + +Miss Milray stated the case of Clementina's divided mind, and her belief +that she would take Hinkle in the end, together with the fear that she +might take Gregory. "She's very odd," Miss Milray concluded. "She +puzzles me. Why did you ever send her to me?" + +Milray laughed. "I don't know. I thought she would amuse you, and I +thought it would be a pleasure to her." + +They began to talk of some affairs of their own, from which Miss Milray +returned to Clementina with the ache of an imperfectly satisfied +intention. If she had meant to urge her brother to seek justice for the +girl from Mrs. Lander, she was not so well pleased to have found justice +done already. But the will had been duly signed and witnessed before the +American vice-consul, and she must get what good she could out of an +accomplished fact. It was at least a consolation to know that it put an +end to her sister-in-law's patronage of the girl, and it would be +interesting to see Mrs. Milray adapt her behavior to Clementina's +fortunes. She did not really dislike her sister-in-law enough to do her +a wrong; she was only willing that she should do herself a wrong. +But one of the most disappointing things in all hostile operations is +that you never can know what the enemy would be at; and Mrs. Milray's +manoevres were sometimes dictated by such impulses that her strategy was +peculiarly baffling. The thought of her past unkindness to Clementina +may still have rankled in her, or she may simply have felt the need of +outdoing Miss Milray by an unapproachable benefaction. It is certain +that when Baron Belsky came to Venice a few weeks after her own arrival, +they began to pose at each other with reference to Clementina; she with +a measure of consciousness, he with the singleness of a nature that was +all pose. In his forbearance to win Clementina from Gregory he had +enjoyed the distinction of an unique suffering; and in allowing the fact +to impart itself to Mrs. Milray, he bathed in the warmth of her +flattering sympathy. Before she withdrew this, as she must when she got +tired of him, she learned from him where Gregory was; for it seemed that +Gregory had so far forgiven the past that they had again written to each +other. + +During the fortnight of Belsky's stay in Venice Mrs. Lander was much +worse, and Clementina met him only once, very briefly--She felt that he +had behaved like a very silly person, but that was all over now, and she +had no wish to punish him for it. At the end of his fortnight he went +northward into the Austrian Tyrol, and a few days later Gregory came down +from the Dolomites to Venice. + +It was in his favor with Clementina that he yielded to the impulse he had +to come directly to her; and that he let her know with the first words +that he had acted upon hopes given him through Belsky from Mrs. Milray. +He owned that he doubted the authority of either to give him these hopes, +but he said he could not abandon them without a last effort to see her, +and learn from her whether they were true or false. + +If she recognized the design of a magnificent reparation in what Mrs. +Milray had done, she did not give it much thought. Her mind was upon +distant things as she followed Gregory's explanation of his presence, +and in the muse in which she listened she seemed hardly to know when he +ceased speaking. + +"I know it must seem to take something for granted which I've no right to +take for granted. I don't believe you could think that I cared for +anything but you, or at all for what Mrs. Lander has done for you." + +"Do you mean her leaving me her money?" asked Clementina, with that +boldness her sex enjoys concerning matters of finance and affection. + +"Yes," said Gregory, blushing for her. "As far as I should ever have a +right to care, I could wish there were no money. It could bring no +blessing to our life. We could do no good with it; nothing but the +sacrifice of ourselves in poverty could be blessed to us." + +"That is what I thought, too," Clementina replied. + +"Oh, then you did think"-- + +"But afterwards, I changed my Mind. If she wants to give me her money I +shall take it." + +Gregory was blankly silent again. + +"I shouldn't know how to refuse, and I don't know as I should have any +right to. Gregory shrank a little from her reyankeefied English, as well +as from the apparent cynicism of her speech; but he shrank in silence +still. She startled him by asking with a kindness that was almost +tenderness, "Mr. Gregory, how do you think anything has changed?" + +"Changed?" + +"You know how it was when you went away from Florence. Do you think +differently now? I don't. I don't think I ought to do something for +you, and pretend that I was doing it for religion. I don't believe the +way you do; and I know I neva shall. Do you want me in spite of my +saying that I can neva help you in your work because I believe in it?" + +"But if you believe in me"-- + +She shook her bead compassionately. "You know we ahgued that out before. +We are just whe'e we were. I am sorry. Nobody had any right to tell you +to come he'e. But I am glad you came--"She saw the hope that lighted up +his face, but she went on unrelentingly--"I think we had betta be free." + +"Free?" + +"Yes, from each other. I don't know how you have felt, but I have not +felt free. It has seemed to me that I promised you something. If I did, +I want to take my promise back and be free." + +Her frankness appealed to his own. "You are free. I never held you +bound to me in my fondest hopes. You have always done right." + +"I have tried to. And I am not going to let you go away thinking that +the reason I said is the only reason. It isn't. I wish to be free +because--there is some one else, now." It was hard to tell him this, +but she knew that she must not do less; and the train that carried him +from Venice that night bore a letter from her to Hinkle. + + + + +XXXIII. + +Clementina told Miss Milray what had happened, but with Mrs. Milray the +girl left the sudden departure of Gregory to account for itself. + +They all went a week later, and Mrs. Milray having now done her whole +duty to Clementina had the easiest mind concerning her. Miss Milray felt +that she was leaving her to greater trials than ever with Mrs. Lander; +but since there was nothing else, she submitted, as people always do with +the trials of others, and when she was once away she began to forget her. + +By this time, however, it was really better for her. With no one to +suspect of tampering with her allegiance, Mrs. Lander returned to her +former fondness for the girl, and they were more peaceful if not happier +together again. They had long talks, such as they used to have, and in +the first of these Clementina told her how and why she had written to +Mr. Hinkle. Mrs. Lander said that it suited her exactly. + +"There ha'n't but just two men in Europe behaved like gentlemen to me, +and one is Mr. Hinkle, and the other is that lo'd; and between the two I +ratha you'd have Mr. Hinkle; I don't know as I believe much in American +guls marryin' lo'ds, the best of 'em." + +Clementina laughed. "Why, Mrs. Landa, Lo'd Lioncou't never thought of me +in the wo'ld!" + +"You can't eva know. Mrs. Milray was tellin' that he's what they call a +pooa lo'd, and that he was carryin' on with the American girls like +everything down there in Egypt last winta. I guess if it comes to money +you'd have enough to buy him and sell him again." + +The mention of money cast a chill upon their talk; and Mrs. Lander said +gloomily, "I don't know as I ca'e so much for that will Mr. Milray made +for me, after all. I did want to say ten thousand apiece for Mr. Landa's +relations; but I hated to befo'e him; I'd told the whole kit of 'em so +much about you, and I knew what they would think." + +She looked at Clementina with recurring grudge, and the girl could not +bear it. + +"Then why don't you tear it up, and make another? I don't want anything, +unless you want me to have it; and I'd ratha not have anything." + +"Yes, and what would folks say, afta youa taken' care of me?" + +"Do you think I do it fo' that?" + +"What do you do it fo'?" + +"What did you want me to come with you fo'?" + +"That's true." Mrs. Lander brightened and warmed again. "I guess it's +all right. I guess I done right, and I got to be satisfied. I presume I +could get the consul to make me a will any time." + +Clementina did not relent so easily. "Mrs. Landa, whateva you do I don't +ca'e to know it; and if you talk to me again about this I shall go home. +I would stay with you as long as you needed me, but I can't if you keep +bringing this up." + +"I suppose you think you don't need me any moa! Betta not be too su'a." + +The girl jumped to her feet, and Mrs. Lander interposed. "Well, the'a! +I didn't mean anything, and I won't pesta you about it any moa. But I +think it's pretty ha'd. Who am I going to talk it ova with, then?" + +"You can talk it ova with the vice-consul," paid Clementina, at random. + +"Well, that's so." Mrs. Lander let Clementina get her ready for the +night, in sign of returning amity; when she was angry with her she always +refused her help, and made her send Maddalena. + +The summer heat increased, and the sick woman suffered from it, but she +could not be persuaded that she had strength to get away, though the +vice-consul, whom she advised with, used all his logic with her. He was +a gaunt and weary widower, who described himself as being officially +between hay and grass; the consul who appointed him had resigned after +going home, and a new consul had not yet been sent out to remove him. +On what she called her well days Mrs. Lander went to visit him, and she +did not mind his being in his shirt-sleeves, in the bit of garden where +she commonly found him, with his collar and cravat off, and clouded in +his own smoke; when she was sick she sent for him, to visit her. He made +excuses as often as she could, and if he saw Mrs. Lander's gondola coming +down the Grand Canal to his house he hurried on his cast clothing, and +escaped to the Piazza, at whatever discomfort and risk from the heat. + +"I don't know how you stand it, Miss Claxon," he complained to +Clementina, as soon as he learned that she was not a blood relation of +Mrs. Lander's, and divined that she had her own reservations concerning +her. "But that woman will be the death of me if she keeps this up. What +does she think I'm here for? If this goes on much longer I'll resign. +The salary won't begin to pay for it. What am I going to do? I don't +want to hurt her feelings, or not to help her; but I know ten times as +much about Mrs. Lander's liver as I do about my own, now." + +He treated Clementina as a person of mature judgment and a sage +discretion, and he accepted what comfort she could offer him when she +explained that it was everything for Mrs. Lander to have him to talk +with. "She gets tied of talking to me," she urged, "and there's nobody +else, now." + +"Why don't she hire a valet de place, and talk to him? I'd hire one +myself for her. It would be a good deal cheaper for me. It's as much as +I can do to stand this weather as it is." + +The vice-consul laughed forlornly in his exasperation, but he agreed with +Clementina when she said, in further excuse, that Mrs. Lander was really +very sick. He pushed back his hat, and scratched his head with a +grimace. + +"Of course, we've got to remember she's sick, and I shall need a little +sympathy myself if she keeps on at me this way. I believe I'll tell her +about my liver next time, and see how she likes it. Look here, Miss +Claxon! Couldn't we get her off to some of those German watering places +that are good for her complaints? I believe it would be the best thing +for her--not to mention me." + +Mrs. Lander was moved by the suggestion which he made in person +afterwards; it appealed to her old nomadic instinct; but when the consul +was gone she gave it up. "We couldn't git the'e, Clementina. I got to +stay he'e till I git up my stren'th. I suppose you'd be glad enough to +have me sta't, now the'e's nobody he'e but me," she added, suspiciously. +"You git this scheme up, or him?" + +Clementina did not defend herself, and Mrs. Lander presently came to her +defence. "I don't believe but what he meant it fo' the best--or you, +whichever it was, and I appreciate it; but all is I couldn't git off. I +guess this aia will do me as much good as anything, come to have it a +little coola." + +They went every afternoon to the Lido, where a wheeled chair met them, +and Mrs. Lander was trundled across the narrow island to the beach. In +the evenings they went to the Piazza, where their faces and figures had +become known, and the Venetians gossipped them down to the last fact of +their relation with an accuracy creditable to their ingenuity in the +affairs of others. To them Mrs. Lander was the sick American, very rich, +and Clementina was her adoptive daughter, who would have her millions +after her. Neither knew the character they bore to the amiable and +inquisitive public of the Piazza, or cared for the fine eyes that aimed +their steadfast gaze at them along the tubes of straw-barreled Virginia +cigars, or across little cups of coffee. Mrs. Lander merely remarked +that the Venetians seemed great for gaping, and Clementina was for the +most part innocent of their stare. + +She rested in the choice she had made in a content which was qualified by +no misgiving. She was sorry for Gregory, when she remembered him; but +her thought was filled with some one else, and she waited in faith and +patience for the answer which should come to the letter she had written. +She did not know where her letter would find him, or when she should hear +from him; she believed that she should hear, and that was enough. She +said to herself that she would not lose hope if no answer came for +months; but in her heart she fixed a date for the answer by letter, and +an earlier date for some word by cable; but she feigned that she did not +depend upon this; and when no word came she convinced herself that she +had not expected any. + +It was nearing the end of the term which she had tacitly given her lover +to make the first sign by letter, when one morning Mrs. Lander woke her. +She wished to say that she had got the strength to leave Venice at last, +and she was going as soon as their trunks could be packed. She had +dressed herself, and she moved about restless and excited. Clementina +tried to reason her out of her haste; but she irritated her, and fixed +her in her determination. "I want to get away, I tell you; I want to get +away," she answered all persuasion, and there seemed something in her +like the wish to escape from more than the oppressive environment, though +she spoke of nothing but the heat and the smell of the canal. "I believe +it's that, moa than any one thing, that's kept me sick he'e," she said. +"I tell you it's the malariar, and you'll be down, too, if you stay." + +She made Clementina go to the banker's, and get money to pay their +landlord's bill, and she gave him notice that they were going that +afternoon. Clementina wished to delay till they had seen the vice-consul +and the doctor; but Mrs. Lander broke out, "I don't want to see 'em, +either of 'em. The docta wants to keep me he'e and make money out of me; +I undastand him; and I don't believe that consul's a bit too good to take +a pussentage. Now, don't you say a wo'd to either of 'em. If you don't +do exactly what I tell you I'll go away and leave you he'e. Now, will +you?" + +Clementina promised, and broke her word. She went to the vice-consul and +told him she had broken it, and she agreed with him that he had better +not come unless Mrs. Lander sent for him. The doctor promptly imagined +the situation and said he would come in casually during the morning, so +as not to alarm the invalid's suspicions. He owned that Mrs. Lander was +getting no good from remaining in Venice, and if it were possible for her +to go, he said she had better go somewhere into cooler and higher air. + +His opinion restored him to Mrs. Lander's esteem, when it was expressed +to her, and as she was left to fix the sum of her debt to him, she made +it handsomer than anything he had dreamed of. She held out against +seeing the vice-consul till the landlord sent in his account. This was +for the whole month which she had just entered upon, and it included +fantastic charges for things hitherto included in the rent, not only for +the current month, but for the months past when, the landlord explained, +he had forgotten to note them. Mrs. Lander refused to pay these demands, +for they touched her in some of those economies which the gross rich +practice amidst their profusion. The landlord replied that she could not +leave his house, either with or without her effects, until she had paid. +He declared Clementina his prisoner, too, and he would not send for the +vice-consul at Mrs. Lander's bidding. How far he was within his rights +in all this they could not know, but he was perhaps himself doubtful, and +he consented to let them send for the doctor, who, when he came, behaved +like anything but the steadfast friend that Mrs. Lander supposed she had +bought in him. He advised paying the account without regard to its +justice, as the shortest and simplest way out of the trouble; but Mrs. +Lander, who saw him talking amicably and even respectfully with the +landlord, when he ought to have treated him as an extortionate scamp, +returned to her former ill opinion of him; and the vice-consul now +appeared the friend that Doctor Tradonico had falsely seemed. The doctor +consented, in leaving her to her contempt of him, to carry a message to +the vice-consul, though he came back, with his finger at the side of his +nose, to charge her by no means to betray his bold championship to the +landlord. + +The vice-consul made none of those shows of authority which Mrs. Lander +had expected of him. She saw him even exchanging the common decencies +with the landlord, when they met; but in fact it was not hard to treat +the smiling and courteous rogue well. In all their disagreement he had +looked as constantly to the comfort of his captives as if they had been +his chosen guests. He sent Mrs. Lander a much needed refreshment at the +stormiest moment of her indignation, and he deprecated without retort the +denunciations aimed at him in Italian which did not perhaps carry so far +as his conscience. The consul talked with him in a calm scarcely less +shameful than that of Dr. Tradonico; and at the end of their parley which +she had insisted upon witnessing, he said: + +"Well, Mrs. Lander, you've got to stand this gouge or you've got to stand +a law suit. I think the gouge would be cheaper in the end. You see, +he's got a right to his month's rent." + +"It ain't the rent I ca'e for: it's the candles, and the suvvice, and the +things he says we broke. It was undastood that everything was to be in +the rent, and his two old chaias went to pieces of themselves when we +tried to pull 'em out from the wall; and I'll neva pay for 'em in the +wo'ld." + +Why," the vice-consul pleaded, "it's only about forty francs for the +whole thing"-- + +"I don't care if it's only fotty cents. And I must say, Mr. Bennam, +you're about the strangest vice-consul, to want me to do it, that I eva +saw." + +The vice-consul laughed unresentfully. "Well, shall I send you a +lawyer?" + +"No!" Mrs. Lander retorted; and after a moment's reflection she added, +"I'm goin' to stay my month, and so you may tell him, and then I'll see +whetha he can make me pay for that breakage and the candles and suvvice. +I'm all wore out, as it is, and I ain't fit to travel, now, and I don't +know when I shall be. Clementina, you can go and tell Maddalena to stop +packin'. Or, no! I'll do it." + +She left the room without further notice of the consul, who said ruefully +to Clementina, "Well, I've missed my chance, Miss Claxon, but I guess +she's done the wisest thing for herself." + +"Oh, yes, she's not fit to go. She must stay, now, till it's coola. +Will you tell the landlo'd, or shall"-- + +"I'll tell him," said the vice-consul, and he had in the landlord. He +received her message with the pleasure of a host whose cherished guests +have consented to remain a while longer, and in the rush of his good +feeling he offered, if the charge for breakage seemed unjust to the vice- +consul, to abate it; and since the signora had not understood that she +was to pay extra for the other things, he would allow the vice-consul to +adjust the differences between them; it was a trifle, and he wished above +all things to content the signora, for whom he professed a cordial esteem +both on his own part and the part of all his family. + +"Then that lets me out for the present," said the vice-consul, when +Clementina repeated Mrs. Lander's acquiescence in the landlord's +proposals, and he took his straw hat, and called a gondola from the +nearest 'traghetto', and bargained at an expense consistent with his +salary, to have himself rowed back to his own garden-gate. + +The rest of the day was an era of better feeling between Mrs. Lander and +her host than they had ever known, and at dinner he brought in with his +own hand a dish which he said he had caused to be specially made for her. +It was so tempting in odor and complexion that Mrs. Lander declared she +must taste it, though as she justly said, she had eaten too much already; +when it had once tasted it she ate it all, against Clementina's +protestations; she announced at the end that every bite had done her +good, and that she never felt better in her life. She passed a happy +evening, with renewed faith in the air of the lagoon; her sole regret now +was that Mr. Lander had not lived to try it with her, for if he had she +was sure he would have been alive at that moment. + +She allowed herself to be got to bed rather earlier than usual; before +Clementina dropped asleep she heard her breathing with long, easy, quiet +respirations, and she lost the fear of the landlord's dish which had +haunted her through the evening. She was awakened in the morning by a +touch on her shoulder. Maddalena hung over her with a frightened face, +and implored her to come and look at the signora, who seemed not at all +well. Clementina ran into her room, and found her dead. She must have +died some hours before without a struggle, for the face was that of +sleep, and it had a dignity and beauty which it had not worn in her life +of self-indulgent wilfulness for so many years that the girl had never +seen it look so before. + + + + +XXXIV. + +The vice-consul was not sure how far his powers went in the situation +with which Mrs. Lander had finally embarrassed him. But he met the new +difficulties with patience, and he agreed with Clementina that they ought +to see if Mrs. Lander had left any written expression of her wishes +concerning the event. She had never spoken of such a chance, but had +always looked forward to getting well and going home, so far as the girl +knew, and the most careful search now brought to light nothing that bore +upon it. In the absence of instructions to the contrary, they did what +they must, and the body, emptied of its life of senseless worry and +greedy care, was laid to rest in the island cemetery of Venice. + +When all was over, the vice-consul ventured an observation which he had +hitherto delicately withheld. The question of Mrs. Lander's kindred had +already been discussed between him and Clementina, and he now felt that +another question had duly presented itself. "You didn't notice," he +suggested, "anything like a will when we went over the papers?" He had +looked carefully for it, expecting that there might have been some +expression of Mrs. Lander's wishes in it. "Because," he added, "I happen +to know that Mr. Milray drew one up for her; I witnessed it." + +"No," said Clementina, "I didn't see anything of it. She told me she had +made a will; but she didn't quite like it, and sometimes she thought she +would change it. She spoke of getting you to do it; I didn't know but +she had." + +The vice-consul shook his head. "No. And these relations of her +husband's up in Michigan; you don't know where they live, exactly?" + +"No. She neva told me; she wouldn't; she didn't like to talk about them; +I don't even know their names." + +The vice-consul thoughtfully scratched a corner of his chin through his +beard. "If there isn't any will, they're the heirs. I used to be a sort +of wild-cat lawyer, and I know that much law." + +"Yes," said Clementina. "She left them five thousand dollas apiece. She +said she wished she had made it ten." + +"I guess she's made it a good deal more, if she's made it anything. Miss +Claxon, don't you understand that if no will turns up, they come in for +all her money. + +"Well, that's what I thought they ought to do," said Clementina. + +"And do you understand that if that's so, you don't come in for anything? +You must excuse me for mentioning it; but she has told everybody that you +were to have it, and if there is no will"-- + +He stopped and bent an eye of lack-lustre compassion on the girl, who +replied, "Oh, yes. I know that; it's what I always told her to do. I +didn't want it." + +"You didn't want it?" + +"No." + +"Well!" The vice-consul stared at her, but he forbore the comment that +her indifference inspired. He said after a pause, "Then what we've got +to do is to advertise for the Michigan relations, and let 'em take any +action they want to." + +"That's the only thing we could do, I presume." + +This gave the vice-consul another pause. At the end of it he got to his +feet. "Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Claxon?" + +She went to her portfolio and produced Mrs. Lander's letter of credit. +It had been made out for three thousand pounds, in Clementina's name as +well as her own; but she had lived wastefully since she had come abroad, +and little money remained to be taken up. With the letter Clementina +handed the vice-consul the roll of Italian and Austrian bank-notes which +she had drawn when Mrs. Lander decided to leave Venice; they were to the +amount of several thousand lire and golden. She offered them with the +insensibility to the quality of money which so many women have, and which +is always so astonishing to men. "What must I do with these?" she asked. + +"Why, keep them! returned the vice-consul on the spur of his surprise. + +"I don't know as I should have any right to," said Clementina. "They +were hers." + +"Why, but"--The vice-consul began his protest, but he could not end it +logically, and he did not end it at all. He insisted with Clementina +that she had a right to some money which Mrs. Lander had given her during +her life; he took charge of the bank-notes in the interest of the +possible heirs, and gave her his receipt for them. In the meantime he +felt that he ought to ask her what she expected to do. + +"I think," she said, "I will stay in Venice awhile." + +The vice-consul suppressed any surprise he might have felt at a decision +given with mystifying cheerfulness. He answered, Well, that was right; +and for the second time he asked her if there was anything he could do +for her. + +"Why, yes," she returned. "I should like to stay on in the house here, +if you could speak for me to the padrone." + +"I don't see why you shouldn't, if we can make the padrone understand +it's different." + +"You mean about the price?" The vice-consul nodded. "That's what I want +you should speak to him about, Mr. Bennam, if you would. Tell him that I +haven't got but a little money now, and he would have to make it very +reasonable. That is, if you think it would be right for me to stay, afta +the way he tried to treat Mrs. Lander." + +The vice-consul gave the point some thought, and decided that the +attempted extortion need not make any difference with Clementina, if she +could get the right terms. He said he did not believe the padrone was a +bad fellow, but he liked to take advantage of a stranger when he could; +we all did. When he came to talk with him he found him a man of heart if +not of conscience. He entered into the case with the prompt intelligence +and vivid sympathy of his race, and he made it easy for Clementina to +stay till she had heard from her friends in America. For himself and for +his wife, he professed that she could not stay too long, and they +proposed that if it would content the signorina still further they would +employ Maddalena as chambermaid till she wished to return to Florence; +she had offered to remain if the signorina stayed. + +"Then that is settled," said Clementina with a sigh of relief; and she +thanked the vice-consul for his offer to write to the Milrays for her, +and said that she would rather write herself. + +She meant to write as soon as she heard from Mr. Hinkle, which could not +be long now, for then she could be independent of the offers of help +which she dreaded from Miss Milray, even more than from Mrs. Milray; it +would be harder to refuse them; and she entered upon a passage of her +life which a nature less simple would have found much more trying. But +she had the power of taking everything as if it were as much to be +expected as anything else. If nothing at all happened she accepted the +situation with implicit resignation, and with a gayety of heart which +availed her long, and never wholly left her. + +While the suspense lasted she could not write home as frankly as before, +and she sent off letters to Middlemount which treated of her delay in +Venice with helpless reticence. They would have set another sort of +household intolerably wondering and suspecting, but she had the comfort +of knowing that her father would probably settle the whole matter by +saying that she would tell what she meant when she got round to it; and +apart from this she had mainly the comfort of the vice-consul's society. +He had little to do besides looking after her, and he employed himself +about this in daily visits which the padrone and his wife regarded as +official, and promoted with a serious respect for the vice-consular +dignity. If the visits ended, as they often did, in a turn on the Grand +Canal, and an ice in the Piazza, they appealed to the imagination of more +sophisticated witnesses, who decided that the young American girl had +inherited the millions of the sick lady, and become the betrothed of the +vice-consul, and that they were thus passing the days of their engagement +in conformity to the American custom, however much at variance with that +of other civilizations. + +This view of the affair was known to Maddalena, but not to Clementina, +who in those days went back in many things to the tradition of her life +at Middlemount. The vice-consul was of a tradition almost as simple, and +his longer experience set no very wide interval between them. It quickly +came to his telling her all about his dead wife and his married +daughters, and how, after his home was broken up, he thought he would +travel a little and see what that would do for him. He confessed that it +had not done much; he was always homesick, and he was ready to go as soon +as the President sent out a consul to take his job off his hands. He +said that he had not enjoyed himself so much since he came to Venice as +he was doing now, and that he did not know what he should do if +Clementina first got her call home. He betrayed no curiosity as to the +peculiar circumstances of her stay, but affected to regard it as +something quite normal, and he watched over her in every way with a +fatherly as well as an official vigilance which never degenerated into +the semblance of any other feeling. Clementina rested in his care in +entire security. The world had quite fallen from her, or so much of it +as she had seen at Florence, and in her indifference she lapsed into life +as it was in the time before that with a tender renewal of her allegiance +to it. There was nothing in the conversation of the vice-consul to +distract her from this; and she said and did the things at Venice that +she used to do at Middlemount, as nearly as she could; to make the days +of waiting pass more quickly, she tried to serve herself in ways that +scandalized the proud affection of Maddalena. It was not fit for the +signorina to make her bed or sweep her room; she might sew and knit if +she would; but these other things were for servants like herself. She +continued in the faith of Clementina's gentility, and saw her always as +she had seen her first in the brief hour of her social splendor in +Florence. Clementina tried to make her understand how she lived at +Middlemount, but she only brought before Maddalena the humiliating image +of a contadina, which she rejected not only in Clementina's behalf, but +that of Miss Milray. She told her that she was laughing at her, and she +was fixed in her belief when the girl laughed at that notion. Her +poverty she easily conceived of; plenty of signorine in Italy were poor; +and she protected her in it with the duty she did not divide quite evenly +between her and the padrone. + +The date which Clementina had fixed for hearing from Hinkle by cable had +long passed, and the time when she first hoped to hear from him by letter +had come and gone. Her address was with the vice-consul as Mrs. Lander's +had been, and he could not be ignorant of her disappointment when he +brought her letters which she said were from home. On the surface of +things it could only be from home that she wished to hear, but beneath +the surface he read an anxiety which mounted with each gratification of +this wish. He had not seen much of the girl while Hinkle was in Venice; +Mrs. Lander had not begun to make such constant use of him until Hinkle +had gone; Mrs. Milray had told him of Clementina's earlier romance, and +it was to Gregory that the vice-consul related the anxiety which he knew +as little in its nature as in its object. + +Clementina never doubted the good faith or constancy of her lover; but +her heart misgave her as to his well-being when it sank at each failure +of the vice-consul to bring her a letter from him. Something must have +happened to him, and it must have been something very serious to keep him +from writing; or there was some mistake of the post-office. The vice- +consul indulged himself in personal inquiries to make sure that the +mistake was not in the Venetian post-office; but he saw that he brought +her greater distress in ascertaining the fact. He got to dreading a look +of resolute cheerfulness that came into her face, when he shook his head +in sign that there were no letters, and he suffered from the covert +eagerness with which she glanced at the superscriptions of those he +brought and failed to find the hoped-for letter among them. Ordeal for +ordeal, he was beginning to regret his trials under Mrs. Lander. In them +he could at least demand Clementina's sympathy, but against herself this +was impossible. Once she noted his mute distress at hers, and broke into +a little laugh that he found very harrowing. + +"I guess you hate it almost as much as I do, Mr. Bennam." + +"I guess I do. I've half a mind to write the letter you want, myself." + +"I've half a mind to let you--or the letter I'd like to write." + +It had come to her thinking she would write again to Hinkle; but she +could not bring herself to do it. She often imagined doing it; she had +every word of such a letter in her mind; and she dramatized every fact +concerning it from the time she should put pen to paper, to the time when +she should get back the answer that cleared the mystery of his silence +away. The fond reveries helped her to bear her suspense; they helped to +make the days go by, to ease the doubt with which she lay down at night, +and the heartsick hope with which she rose up in the morning. + +One day, at the hour of his wonted visit, she say the vice-consul from +her balcony coming, as it seemed to her, with another figure in his +gondola, and a thousand conjectures whirled through her mind, and then +centred upon one idea. After the first glance she kept her eyes down, +and would not look again while she told herself incessantly that it could +not be, and that she was a fool and a goose and a perfect coot, to think +of such a thing for a single moment. When she allowed herself, or forced +herself, to look a second time; as the boat drew near, she had to cling +to the balcony parapet for support, in her disappointment. + +The person whom the vice-consul helped out of the gondola was an elderly +man like himself, and she took a last refuge in the chance that he might +be Hinkle's father, sent to bring her to him because he could not come to +her; or to soften some terrible news to her. Then her fancy fluttered +and fell, and she waited patiently for the fact to reveal itself. There +was something countrified in the figure of the man, and something +clerical in his face, though there was nothing in his uncouth best +clothes that confirmed this impression. In both face and figure there +was a vague resemblance to some one she had seen before, when the vice- +consul said: + +"Miss Claxon, I want to introduce the Rev. Mr. James B. Orson, of +Michigan." Mr. Orson took Clementina's hand into a dry, rough grasp, +while he peered into her face with small, shy eyes. The vice-consul +added with a kind of official formality, "Mr. Orson is the half-nephew of +Mr. Lander," and then Clementina now knew whom it was that he resembled. +"He has come to Venice," continued the vice-consul, "at the request of +Mrs. Lander; and he did not know of her death until I informed him of the +fact. I should have said that Mr. Orson is the son of Mr. Lander's half- +sister. He can tell you the balance himself." The vice-consul +pronounced the concluding word with a certain distaste, and the effect of +gladly retiring into the background. + +"Won't you sit down?" said Clementina, and she added with one of the +remnants of her Middlemount breeding, "Won't you let me take your hat?" + +Mr. Orson in trying to comply with both her invitations, knocked his well +worn silk hat from the hand that held it, and sent it rolling across the +room, where Clementina pursued it and put it on the table. + +"I may as well say at once," he began in a flat irresonant voice, "that I +am the representative of Mrs. Lander's heirs, and that I have a letter +from her enclosing her last will and testament, which I have shown to the +consul here"-- + +"Vice-consul," the dignitary interrupted with an effect of rejecting any +part in the affair. + +"Vice-consul, I should say,--and I wish to lay them both before you, in +order that"-- + +"Oh, that is all right," said Clementina sweetly. "I'm glad there is a +will. I was afraid there wasn't any at all. Mr. Bennam and I looked for +it everywhe'e." She smiled upon the Rev. Mr. Orson, who silently handed +her a paper. It was the will which Milray had written for Mrs. Lander, +and which, with whatever crazy motive, she had sent to her husband's +kindred. It provided that each of them should be given five thousand +dollars out of the estate, and that then all should go to Clementina. +It was the will Mrs. Lander told her she had made, but she had never seen +the paper before, and the legal forms hid the meaning from her so that +she was glad to have the vice-consul make it clear. Then she said +tranquilly, "Yes, that is the way I supposed it was." + +Mr. Orson by no means shared her calm. He did not lift his voice, but on +the level it had taken it became agitated. "Mrs. Lander gave me the +address of her lawyer in Boston when she sent me the will, and I made a +point of calling on him when I went East, to sail. I don't know why she +wished me to come out to her, but being sick, I presume she naturally +wished to see some of her own family." + +He looked at Clementina as if he thought she might dispute this, but she +consented at her sweetest, "Oh, yes, indeed," and he went on: + +"I found her affairs in a very different condition from what she seemed +to think. The estate was mostly in securities which had not been +properly looked after, and they had depreciated until they were some of +them not worth the paper they were printed on. The house in Boston is +mortgaged up to its full value, I should say; and I should say that Mrs. +Lander did not know where she stood. She seemed to think that she was a +very rich woman, but she lived high, and her lawyer said he never could +make her understand how the money was going. Mr. Lander seemed to lose +his grip, the year he died, and engaged in some very unfortunate +speculations; I don't know whether he told her. I might enter into +details"-- + +"Oh, that is not necessary," said Clementina, politely, witless of the +disastrous quality of the facts which Mr. Orson was imparting. + +"But the sum and substance of it all is that there will not be more than +enough to pay the bequests to her own family, if there is that." + +Clementina looked with smiling innocence at the vice-consul. + +"That is to say," he explained, "there won't be anything at all for you, +Miss Claxon." + +"Well, that's what I always told Mrs. Lander I ratha, when she brought it +up. I told her she ought to give it to his family," said Clementina, +with a satisfaction in the event which the vice-consul seemed unable to +share, for he remained gloomily silent. "There is that last money I drew +on the letter of credit, you can give that to Mr. Orson." + +"I have told him about that money," said the vice-consul, dryly. "It +will be handed over to him when the estate is settled, if there isn't +enough to pay the bequests without it." + +"And the money which Mrs. Landa gave me before that," she pursued, +eagerly. Mr. Orson had the effect of pricking up his ears, though it was +in fact merely a gleam of light that came into his eyes. + +"That's yours," said the vice-consul, sourly, almost savagely. "She +didn't give it to you without she wanted you to have it, and she didn't +expect you to pay her bequests with it. In my opinion," he burst out, in +a wrathful recollection of his own sufferings from Mrs. Lander, "she +didn't give you a millionth part of your due for all the trouble she made +you; and I want Mr. Orson to understand that, right here." + +Clementina turned her impartial gaze upon Mr. Orson as if to verify the +impression of this extreme opinion upon him; he looked as if he neither +accepted nor rejected it, and she concluded the sentence which the vice- +consul had interrupted. "Because I ratha not keep it, if there isn't +enough without it." + +The vice-consul gave way to violence. "It's none of your business +whether there's enough or not. What you've got to do is to keep what +belongs to you, and I'm going to see that you do. That's what I'm here +for." If this assumption of official authority did not awe Clementina, +at least it put a check upon her headlong self-sacrifice. The vice- +consul strengthened his hold upon her by asking, "What would you do. +I should like to know, if you gave that up?" + +"Oh, I should get along," she returned, Light-heartedly, but upon +questioning herself whether she should turn to Miss Milray for help, +or appeal to the vice-consul himself, she was daunted a little, and she +added, "But just as you say, Mr. Bennam." + +"I say, keep what fairly belongs to you. It's only two or three hundred +dollars at the outside," he explained to Mr. Orson's hungry eyes; but +perhaps the sum did not affect the country minister's imagination as +trifling; his yearly salary must sometimes have been little more. + +The whole interview left the vice-consul out of humor with both parties +to the affair; and as to Clementina, between the ideals of a perfect +little saint, and a perfect little simpleton he remained for the present +unable to class her. + + + + +XXXV. + +Clementina and the Vice-Consul afterwards agreed that Mrs. Lander must +have sent the will to Mr. Orson in one of those moments of suspicion when +she distrusted everyone about her, or in that trouble concerning her +husband's kindred which had grown upon her more and more, as a means of +assuring them that they were provided for. + +"But even then," the vice-consul concluded, "I don't see why she wanted +this man to come out here. The only explanation is that she was a little +off her base towards the last. That's the charitable supposition." + +"I don't think she was herself, some of the time," Clementina assented in +acceptance of the kindly construction. + +The vice-consul modified his good will toward Mrs. Lander's memory so far +as to say, "Well, if she'd been somebody else most of the time, it would +have been an improvement." + +The talk turned upon Mr. Orson, and what he would probably do. The vice- +consul had found him a cheap lodging, at his request, and he seemed to +have settled down at Venice either without the will or without the power +to go home, but the vice-consul did not know where he ate, or what he did +with himself except at the times when he came for letters. Once or twice +when he looked him up he found him writing, and then the minister +explained that he had promised to "correspond" for an organ of his sect +in the Northwest; but he owned that there was no money in it. He was +otherwise reticent and even furtive in his manner. He did not seem to go +much about the city, but kept to his own room; and if he was writing of +Venice it must have been chiefly from his acquaintance with the little +court into which his windows looked. He affected the vice-consul as +forlorn and helpless, and he pitied him and rather liked him as a fellow- +victim of Mrs. Lander. + +One morning Mr. Orson came to see Clementina, and after a brief passage +of opinion upon the weather, he fell into an embarrassed silence from +which he pulled himself at last with a visible effort. "I hardly know +how to lay before you what I have to say, Miss Claxon," he began, "and I +must ask you to put the best construction upon it. I have never been +reduced to a similar distress before. You would naturally think that I +would turn to the vice-consul, on such an occasion; but I feel, through +our relation to the--to Mrs. Lander--ah--somewhat more at home with you." + +He stopped, as if he wished to be asked his business, and she entreated +him, "Why, what is it, Mr. Osson? Is there something I can do? There +isn't anything I wouldn't!" + +A gleam, watery and faint, which still could not be quite winked away, +came into his small eyes. "Why, the fact is, could you--ah--advance me +about five dollars?" + +"Why, Mr. Orson!" she began, and he seemed to think she wished to +withdraw her offer of help, for he interposed. + +"I will repay it as soon as I get an expected remittance from home. +I came out on the invitation of Mrs. Lander, and as her guest, and I +supposed"-- + +"Oh, don't say a wo'd!" cried Clementina, but now that he had begun he +was powerless to stop. + +"I would not ask, but my landlady has pressed me for her rent--I suppose +she needs it--and I have been reduced to the last copper"-- + +The girl whose eyes the tears of self pity so rarely visited, broke into +a sob that seemed to surprise her visitor. But she checked herself as +with a quick inspiration: "Have you been to breakfast?" + +"Well--ah--not this morning," Mr. Orson admitted, as if to imply that +having breakfasted some other morning might be supposed to serve the +purpose. + +She left him and ran to the door. "Maddalena, Maddalena!" she called; +and Maddalena responded with a frightened voice from the direction of the +kitchen: + +"Vengo subito!" + +She hurried out with the coffee-pot in her hand, as if she had just taken +it up when Clementina called; and she halted for the whispered colloquy +between them which took place before she set it down on the table already +laid for breakfast; then she hurried out of the room again. She came +back with a cantaloupe and grapes, and cold ham, and put them before +Clementina and her guest, who both ignored the hunger with which he swept +everything before him. When his famine had left nothing, he said, in +decorous compliment: + +"That is very good coffee, I should think the genuine berry, though I am +told that they adulterate coffee a great deal in Europe." + +"Do they?" asked Clementina. "I didn't know it." + +She left him still sitting before the table, and came back with some +bank-notes in her hand. "Are you sure you hadn't betta take moa?" she +asked. + +"I think that five dollars will be all that I shall require," he +answered, with dignity. "I should be unwilling to accept more. I shall +undoubtedly receive some remittances soon." + +"Oh, I know you will," Clementina returned, and she added, "I am waiting +for lettas myself; I don't think any one ought to give up." + +The preacher ignored the appeal which was in her tone rather than her +words, and went on to explain at length the circumstances of his having +come to Europe so unprovided against chances. When he wished to excuse +his imprudence, she cried out, "Oh, don't say a wo'd! It's just like my +own fatha," and she told him some things of her home which apparently did +not interest him very much. He had a kind of dull, cold self-absorption +in which he was indeed so little like her father that only her kindness +for the lonely man could have justified her in thinking there was any +resemblance. + +She did not see him again for a week, and meantime she did not tell the +vice-consul of what had happened. But an anxiety for the minister began +to mingle with her anxieties for herself; she constantly wondered why she +did not hear from her lover, and she occasionally wondered whether Mr. +Orson were not falling into want again. She had decided to betray his +condition to the vice-consul, when he came, bringing the money she had +lent him. He had received a remittance from an unexpected source; and he +hoped she would excuse his delay in repaying her loan. She wished not to +take the money, at least till he was quite sure he should not want it, +but he insisted. + +"I have enough to keep me, now, till I hear from other sources, with the +means for returning home. I see no object in continuing here, under the +circumstances." + +In the relief which she felt for him Clementina's heart throbbed with a +pain which was all for herself. Why should she wait any longer either? +For that instant she abandoned the hope which had kept her up so long; a +wave of homesickness overwhelmed her. + +"I should like to go back, too," she said. "I don't see why I'm staying." + +Mr. Osson, why can't you let me"--she was going to say--"go home with +you? "But she really said what was also in her heart, "Why can't you let +me give you the money to go home? It is all Mrs. Landa's money, anyway." + +"There is certainly that view of the matter," he assented with a +promptness that might have suggested a lurking grudge for the vice- +consul's decision that she ought to keep the money Mrs. Lander had given +her. + +But Clementina urged unsuspiciously: "Oh, yes, indeed! And I shall feel +better if you take it. I only wish I could go home, too!" + +The minister was silent while he was revolving, with whatever scruple or +reluctance, a compromise suitable to the occasion. Then he said, "Why +should we not return together?" + +"Would you take me?" she entreated. + +"That should be as you wished. I am not much acquainted with the usages +in such matters, but I presume that it would be entirely practicable. We +could ask the vice-consul." + +"Yes"-- + +"He must have had considerable experience in cases of the kind. Would +your friends meet you in New York, or"-- + +"I don't know," said Clementina with a pang for the thought of a meeting +she had sometimes fancied there, when her lover had come out for her, and +her father had been told to come and receive them. "No," she sighed, +"the'e wouldn't be time to let them know. But it wouldn't make any +difference. I could get home from New Yo'k alone," she added, +listlessly. Her spirits had fallen again. She saw that she could not +leave Venice till she had heard in some sort from the letter she had +written. "Perhaps it couldn't be done, after all. But I will see Mr. +Bennam about it, Mr. Osson; and I know he will want you to have that much +of the money. He will be coming he'e, soon." + +He rose upon what he must have thought her hint, and said, "I should not +wish to have him swayed against his judgment." + +The vice-consul came not long after the minister had left her, and she +began upon what she wished to do for him. + +The vice-consul was against it. "I would rather lend him the money out +of my own pocket. How are you going to get along yourself, if you let +him have so much?" + +She did not answer at once. Then she said, hopelessly, "I've a great +mind to go home with him. I don't believe there's any use waiting here +any longa." The vice-consul could not say anything to this. She added, +"Yes, I believe I will go home. We we'e talking about it, the other day, +and he is willing to let me go with him." + +"I should think he would be," the vice-consul retorted in his indignation +for her. "Did you offer to pay for his passage?" + +"Yes," she owned, "I did," and again the vice-consul could say nothing. +"If I went, it wouldn't make any difference whether it took it all or +not. I should have plenty to get home from New York with." + +"Well," the vice-consul assented, dryly, "it's for you to say." + +"I know you don't want me to do it!" + +"Well, I shall miss you," he answered, evasively. + +"And I shall miss you, too, Mr. Bennam. Don't you believe it? But if I +don't take this chance to get home, I don't know when I shall eva have +anotha. And there isn't any use waiting--no, there isn't!" + +The vice-consul laughed at the sort of imperative despair in her tone. +"How are you going? Which way, I mean." + +They counted up Clementina's debts and assets, and they found that if she +took the next steamer from Genoa, which was to sail in four days, she +would have enough to pay her own way and Mr. Orson's to New York, and +still have some thirty dollars over, for her expenses home to +Middlemount. They allowed for a second cabin-passage, which the vice- +consul said was perfectly good on the Genoa steamers. He rather urged +the gentility and comfort of the second cabin-passage, but his reasons in +favor of it were wasted upon Clementina's indifference; she wished to get +home, now, and she did not care how. She asked the vice-consul to see +the minister for her, and if he were ready and willing, to telegraph for +their tickets. He transacted the business so promptly that he was able +to tell her when he came in the evening that everything was in train. +He excused his coming; he said that now she was going so soon, he wanted +to see all he could of her. He offered no excuse when he came the next +morning; but he said he had got a letter for her and thought she might +want to have it at once. + +He took it out of his hat and gave it to her. It was addressed in +Hinkle's writing; her answer had come at last; she stood trembling with +it in her hand. + +The vice-consul smiled. "Is that the one?" + +"Yes," she whispered back. + +"All right." He took his hat, and set it on the back of his head before +he left her without other salutation. + +Then Clementina opened her letter. It was in a woman's hand, and the +writer made haste to explain at the beginning that she was George W. +Hinkle's sister, and that she was writing for him; for though he was now +out of danger, he was still very weak, and they had all been anxious +about him. A month before, he had been hurt in a railroad collision, and +had come home from the West, where the accident happened, suffering +mainly from shock, as his doctor thought; he had taken to his bed at +once, and had not risen from it since. He had been out of his head a +great part of the time, and had been forbidden everything that could +distress or excite him. His sister said that she was writing for him now +as soon as he had seen Clementina's letter; it had been forwarded from +one address to another, and had at last found him there at his home in +Ohio. He wished to say that he would come out for Clementina as soon as +he was allowed to undertake the journey, and in the meantime she must let +him know constantly where she was. The letter closed with a few words of +love in his own handwriting. + +Clementina rose from reading it, and put on her hat in a bewildered +impulse to go to him at once; she knew, in spite of all the cautions and +reserves of the letter that he must still be very sick. When she came +out of her daze she found that she could only go to the vice-consul. She +put the letter in his hands to let it explain itself. "You'll undastand, +now," she said. "What shall I do?" + +When he had read it, he smiled and answered, "I guess I understood pretty +well before, though I wasn't posted on names. Well, I suppose you'll +want to layout most of your capital on cables, now?" + +"Yes," she laughed, and then she suddenly lamented, "Why didn't they +telegraph?" + +"Well, I guess he hadn't the head for it," said the vice-consul, "and the +rest wouldn't think of it. They wouldn't, in the country." + +Clementina laughed again; in joyous recognition of the fact, "No, my +fatha wouldn't, eitha!" + +The vice-consul reached for his hat, and he led the way to Clementina's +gondola at his garden gate, in greater haste than she. At the telegraph +office he framed a dispatch which for expansive fullness and precision +was apparently unexampled in the experience of the clerk who took it and +spelt over its English with them. It asked an answer in the vice- +consul's care, and, "I'll tell you what, Miss Claxon," he said with a +husky weakness in his voice, "I wish you'd let this be my treat." + +She understood. "Do you really, Mr. Bennam?" + +"I do indeed." + +"Well, then, I will," she said, but when he wished to include in his +treat the dispatch she sent home to her father announcing her coming, she +would not let him. + +He looked at his watch, as they rowed away. "It's eight o'clock here, +now, and it will reach Ohio about six hours earlier; but you can't expect +an answer tonight, you know." + +"No"--She had expected it though, he could see that. + +"But whenever it comes, I'll bring it right round to you. Now it's all +going to be straight, don't you be afraid, and you're going home the +quickest way you can get there. I've been looking up the sailings, and +this Genoa boat will get you to New York about as soon as any could from +Liverpool. Besides there's always a chance of missing connections and +losing time between here and England. I should stick to the Genoa boat." + +"Oh I shall," said Clementina, far less fidgetted than he. She was, in +fact, resting securely again in the faith which had never really deserted +her, and had only seemed for a little time to waver from her when her +hope went. Now that she had telegraphed, her heart was at peace, and she +even laughed as she answered the anxious vice-consul. + + + + +XXXVI. + +The next morning Clementina watched for the vice-consul from her balcony. +She knew he would not send; she knew he would come; but it, was nearly +noon before she saw him coming. They caught sight of each other almost +at the same moment, and he stood up in his boat, and waved something +white in his hand, which must be a dispatch for her. + +It acknowledged her telegram and reported George still improving; his +father would meet her steamer in New York. It was very reassuring, it +was every thing hopeful; but when she had read it she gave it to the +vice-consul for encouragement. + +"It's all right, Miss Claxon," he said, stoutly. "Don't you be troubled +about Mr. Hinkle's not coming to meet you himself. He can't keep too +quiet for a while yet." + +"Oh, yes," said Clementina, patiently. + +"If you really want somebody to worry about, you can help Mr. Orson to +worry about himself!" the vice-consul went on, with the grimness he had +formerly used in speaking of Mrs. Lander. "He's sick, or he thinks he's +going to be. He sent round for me this morning, and I found him in bed. +You may have to go home alone. But I guess he's more scared than hurt." + +Her heart sank, and then rose in revolt against the mere idea of delay. +"I wonder if I ought to go and see him," she said. + +"Well, it would be a kindness," returned the vice-consul, with a +promptness that unmasked the apprehension he felt for the sick man. + +He did not offer to go with her, and she took Maddalena. She found the +minister seated in his chair beside his bed. A three days' beard +heightened the gauntness of his face; he did not move when his padrona +announced her. + +"I am not any better," he answered when she said that she was glad to see +him up. "I am merely resting; the bed is hard. I regret to say," he +added, with a sort of formal impersonality, "that I shall be unable to +accompany you home, Miss Claxon. That is, if you still think of taking +the steamer this week." + +Her whole being had set homeward in a tide that already seemed to drift +the vessel from its moorings. "What--what do you mean?" she gasped. + +"I didn't know," he returned, "but that in view of the circumstances--all +the circumstances--you might be intending to defer your departure to some +later steamer." + +"No, no, no! I must go, now. I couldn't wait a day, an hour, a minute +after the first chance of going. You don't know what you are saying! +He might die if I told him I was not coming; and then what should I do?" +This was what Clementina said to herself; but what she said to Mr. Orson, +with an inspiration from her terror at his suggestion was, "Don't you +think a little chicken broth would do you good, Mr. Osson? I don't +believe but what it would." + +A wistful gleam came into the preacher's eyes. "It might," he admitted, +and then she knew what must be his malady. She sent Maddalena to a +trattoria for the soup, and she did not leave him, even after she had +seen its effect upon him. It was not hard to persuade him that he had +better come home with her; and she had him there, tucked away with his +few poor belongings, in the most comfortable room the padrone could +imagine, when the vice-consul came in the evening. + +"He says he thinks he can go, now," she ended, when she had told the +vice-consul. "And I know he can. It wasn't anything but poor living." + +"It looks more like no living," said the vice-consul. "Why didn't the +old fool let some one know that he was short of money? "He went on with +a partial transfer of his contempt of the preacher to her, "I suppose if +he'd been sick instead of hungry, you'd have waited over till the next +steamer for him." + +She cast down her eyes. "I don't know what you'll think of me. I should +have been sorry for him, and I should have wanted to stay." She lifted +her eyes and looked the vice-consul defiantly in the face. "But he +hadn't the fust claim on me, and I should have gone--I couldn't, have +helped it!--I should have gone, if he had been dying!" + +"Well, you've got more horse-sense," said the vice-consul, "than any ten +men I ever saw," and he testified his admiration of her by putting his +arms round her, where she stood before him, and kissing her. "Don't you +mind," he explained. "If my youngest girl had lived, she would have been +about your age." + +"Oh, it's all right, Mr. Bennam," said Clementina. + +When the time came for them to leave Venice, Mr. Orson was even eager to +go. The vice-consul would have gone with them in contempt of the +official responsibilities which he felt to be such a thankless burden, +but there was really no need of his going, and he and Clementina treated +the question with the matter-of-fact impartiality which they liked in +each other. He saw her off at the station where Maddalena had come to +take the train for Florence in token of her devotion to the signorina, +whom she would not outstay in Venice. She wept long and loud upon +Clementina's neck, so that even Clementina was once moved to put her +handkerchief to her tearless eyes. + +At the last moment she had a question which she referred to the vice +consul. "Should you tell him?" she asked. + +"Tell who what?" he retorted. + +"Mr. Osson-that I wouldn't have stayed for him." + +"Do you think it would make you feel any better?" asked the consul, upon +reflection. + +"I believe he ought to know." + +"Well, then, I guess I should do it." + +The time did not come for her confession till they had nearly reached the +end of their voyage. It followed upon something like a confession from +the minister himself, which he made the day he struggled on deck with her +help, after spending a week in his berth. + +"Here is something," he said, "which appears to be for you, Miss Claxon. +I found it among some letters for Mrs. Lander which Mr. Bennam gave me +after my arrival, and I only observed the address in looking over the +papers in my valise this morning." He handed her a telegram. "I trust +that it is nothing requiring immediate attention." + +Clementina read it at a glance. "No," she answered, and for a while she +could not say anything more; it was a cable message which Hinkle's sister +must have sent her after writing. No evil had come of its failure to +reach her, and she recalled without bitterness the suffering which would +have been spared her if she had got it before. It was when she thought +of the suffering of her lover from the silence which must have made him +doubt her, that she could not speak. As soon as she governed herself +against her first resentment she said, with a little sigh, "It is all +right, now, Mr. Osson," and her stress upon the word seemed to trouble +him with no misgiving. "Besides, if you're to blame for not noticing, so +is Mr. Bennam, and I don't want to blame any one." She hesitated a +moment before she added: "I have got to tell you something, now, because +I think you ought to know it. I am going home to be married, Mr. Osson, +and this message is from the gentleman I am going to be married to. +He has been very sick, and I don't know yet as he'll be able to meet me +in New Yo'k; but his fatha will." + +Mr. Orson showed no interest in these facts beyond a silent attention to +her words, which might have passed for an open indifference. At his time +of life all such questions, which are of permanent importance to women, +affect men hardly more than the angels who neither marry nor are given in +marriage. Besides, as a minister he must have had a surfeit of all +possible qualities in the love affairs of people intending matrimony. +As a casuist he was more reasonably concerned in the next fact which +Clementina laid before him. + +"And the otha day, there in Venice when you we'e sick, and you seemed to +think that I might put off stahting home till the next steamer, I don't +know but I let you believe I would." + +"I supposed that the delay of a week or two could make no material +difference to you." + +"But now you see that it would. And I feel as if I ought to tell you-- +I spoke to Mr. Bennam about it, and he didn't tell me not to--that I +shouldn't have staid, no not for anything in the wo'ld. I had to do what +I did at the time, but eva since it has seemed as if I had deceived you, +and I don't want to have it seem so any longer. It isn't because I don't +hate to tell you; I do; but I guess if it was to happen over again I +couldn't feel any different. Do you want I should tell the deck-stewahd +to bring you some beef-tea?" + +"I think I could relish a small portion," said Mr. Orson, cautiously, and +he said nothing more. + +Clementina left him with her nerves in a flutter, and she did not come +back to him until she decided that it was time to help him down to his +cabin. He suffered her to do this in silence, but at the door he cleared +his throat and began: + +"I have reflected upon what you told me, and I have tried to regard the +case from all points. I believe that I have done so, without personal +feeling, and I think it my duty to say, fully and freely, that I believe +you would have done perfectly right not to remain." + +"Yes," said Clementina, "I thought you would think so." + +They parted emotionlessly to all outward effect, and when they met again +it was without a sign of having passed through a crisis of sentiment. +Neither referred to the matter again, but from that time the minister +treated Clementina with a deference not without some shadows of +tenderness such as her helplessness in Venice had apparently never +inspired. She had cast out of her mind all lingering hardness toward him +in telling him the hard truth, and she met his faint relentings with a +grateful gladness which showed itself in her constant care of him. + +This helped her a little to forget the strain of the anxiety that +increased upon her as the time shortened between the last news of her +lover and the next; and there was perhaps no more exaggeration in the +import than in the terms of the formal acknowledgment which Mr. Orson +made her as their steamer sighted Fire Island Light, and they both knew +that their voyage had ended: "I may not be able to say to you in the +hurry of our arrival in New York that I am obliged to you for a good many +little attentions, which I should be pleased to reciprocate if +opportunity offered. I do not think I am going too far in saying that +they are such as a daughter might offer a parent." + +"Oh, don't speak of it, Mr. Osson!" she protested. "I haven't done +anything that any one wouldn't have done." + +"I presume," said the minister, thoughtfully, as if retiring from an +extreme position, "that they are such as others similarly circumstanced, +might have done, but it will always be a source of satisfaction for you +to reflect that you have not neglected them." + + + + +XXXVII. + +In the crowd which thronged the steamer's dock at Hoboken, Clementina +strained her eyes to make out some one who looked enough like her lover +to be his father, and she began to be afraid that they might miss each +other when she failed. She walked slowly down the gangway, with the +people that thronged it, glad to be hidden by them from her failure, but +at the last step she was caught aside by a small blackeyed, black-haired +woman, who called out "Isn't this Miss Claxon? I'm Georrge's sisterr. +Oh, you'rre just like what he said! I knew it! I knew it!" and then +hugged her and kissed her, and passed her to the little lean dark old man +next her. "This is fatherr. I knew you couldn't tell us, because I take +afterr him, and Georrge is exactly like motherr." + +George's father took her hand timidly, but found courage to say to his +daughter, "Hadn't you betterr let her own fatherr have a chance at herr?" +and amidst a tempest of apologies and self blame from the sister, Claxon +showed himself over the shoulders of the little man. + +"Why, there wa'n't no hurry, as long as she's he'a," he said, in prompt +enjoyment of the joke, and he and Clementina sparely kissed each other. + +"Why, fatha!" she said. "I didn't expect you to come to New Yo'k to meet +me." + +"Well, I didn't ha'dly expect it myself; but I'd neva been to Yo'k, and I +thought I might as well come. Things ah' ratha slack at home, just now, +anyway." + +She did not heed his explanation. "We'e you sca'ed when you got my +dispatch?" + +"No, we kind of expected you'd come any time, the way you wrote afta Mrs. +Landa died. We thought something must be up." + +"Yes," she said, absently. Then, "Whe'e's motha?" she asked. + +"Well, I guess she thought she couldn't get round to it, exactly," said +the father. "She's all right. Needn't ask you!" + +"No, I'm fust-rate," Clementina returned, with a silent joy in her +father's face and voice. She went back in it to the girl of a year ago, +and the world which had come between them since their parting rolled away +as if it had never been there. + +Neither of them said anything about that. She named over her brothers +and sisters, and he answered, "Yes, yes," in assurance of their well- +being, and then he explained, as if that were the only point of real +interest, "I see your folks waitin' he'e fo' somebody, and I thought I'd +see if it wa'n't the same one, and we kind of struck up an acquaintance +on your account befo'e you got he'e, Clem." + + +"Your folks!" she silently repeated to herself. "Yes, they ah' mine!" +and she stood trying to realize the strange fact, while George's sister +poured out a voluminous comment upon Claxon's spare statement, and +George's father admired her volubility with the shut smile of toothless +age. She spoke with the burr which the Scotch-Irish settlers have +imparted to the whole middle West, but it was music to Clementina, who +heard now and then a tone of her lover in his sister's voice. In the +midst of it all she caught sight of a mute unfriended figure just without +their circle, his traveling shawl hanging loose upon his shoulders, and +the valise which had formed his sole baggage in the voyage to and from +Europe pulling his long hand out of his coat sleeve. + +"Oh, yes," she said, "here is Mr. Osson that came ova with me, fatha; +he's a relation of Mr. Landa's," and she presented him to them all. + +He shifted his valise to the left hand, and shook hands with each, +asking, "What name?" and then fell motionless again. + +"Well," said her father, "I guess this is the end of this paht of the +ceremony, and I'm goin' to see your baggage through the custom-house, +Clementina; I've read about it, and I want to know how it's done. I want +to see what you ah' tryin' to smuggle in." + +"I guess you won't find much," she said. "But you'll want the keys, +won't you?" She called to him, as he was stalking away. + +"Well, I guess that would be a good idea. Want to help, Miss Hinkle?" + +"I guess we might as well all help," said Clementina, and Mr. Orson +included himself in the invitation. He seemed unable to separate himself +from them, though the passage of Clementina's baggage through the +customs, and its delivery to an expressman for the hotel where the +Hinkles said they were staying might well have severed the last tie +between them. + +"Ah' you going straight home, Mr. Osson?" she asked, to rescue him from +the forgetfulness into which they were all letting him fall. + +"I think I will remain over a day," he answered. "I may go on to Boston +before starting West." + +"Well, that's right," said Clementina's father with the wish to approve +everything native to him, and an instinctive sense of Clementina's wish +to befriend the minister. "Betta come to oua hotel. We're all goin' to +the same one." + +"I presume it is a good one?" Mr. Orson assented. + +"Well," said Claxon, "you must make Miss Hinkle, he'a, stand it if it +ain't. She's got me to go to it." + +Mr. Orson apparently could not enter into the joke; but he accompanied +the party, which again began to forget him, across the ferry and up the +elevated road to the street car that formed the last stage of their +progress to the hotel. At this point George's sister fell silent, and +Clementina's father burst out, "Look he'a! I guess we betty not keep +this up any Tonga; I don't believe much in surprises, and I guess she +betta know it now!" + +He looked at George's sister as if for authority to speak further, and +Clementina looked at her, too, while George's father nervously moistened +his smiling lips with the tip of his tongue, and let his twinkling eyes +rest upon Clementina's face. + +"Is he at the hotel?" she asked. + +"Yes," said his sister, monosyllabic for once. + +"I knew it," said Clementina, and she was only half aware of the fullness +with which his sister now explained how he wanted to come so much that +the doctor thought he had better, but that they had made him promise he +would not try to meet her at the steamer, lest it should be too great a +trial of his strength. + +"Yes," Clementina assented, when the story came to an end and was +beginning over again. + +She had an inexplicable moment when she stood before her lover in the +room where they left her to meet him alone. She faltered and he waited +constrained by her constraint. + +"Is it all a mistake, Clementina?" he asked, with a piteous smile. + +"No, no!" + +"Am I so much changed?" + +"No; you are looking better than I expected." + +"And you are not sorry-for anything?" + +"No, I am--Perhaps I have thought of you too much! It seems so +strange." + +"I understand," he answered. "We have been like spirits to each other, +and now we find that we are alive and on the earth like other people; and +we are not used to it." + +"It must be something like that." + +"But if it's something else--if you have the least regret,--if you would +rather "--He stopped, and they remained looking at each other a moment. +Then she turned her head, and glanced out of the window, as if something +there had caught her sight. + +"It's a very pleasant view, isn't it?" she said; and she lifted her hands +to her head, and took off her hat, with an effect of having got home +after absence, to stay. + + + + +XXXVIII. + +It was possibly through some sense finer than any cognition that +Clementina felt in meeting her lover that she had taken up a new burden +rather than laid down an old one. Afterwards, when they once recurred to +that meeting, and she tried to explain for him the hesitation which she +had not been able to hide, she could only say, "I presume I didn't want +to begin unless I was sure I could carry out. It would have been silly." + +Her confession, if it was a confession, was made when one of his returns +to health, or rather one of the arrests of his unhealth, flushed them +with hope and courage; but before that first meeting was ended she knew +that he had overtasked his strength, in coming to New York, and he must +not try it further. "Fatha," she said to Claxon, with the authority of a +woman doing her duty, "I'm not going to let Geo'ge go up to Middlemount, +with all the excitement. It will be as much as he can do to get home. +You can tell mother about it; and the rest. I did suppose it would be +Mr. Richling that would marry us, and I always wanted him to, but I guess +somebody else can do it as well." + +"Just as you say, Clem," her father assented. "Why not Brother Osson, +he'a?" he suggested with a pleasure in the joke, whatever it was, that +the minister's relation to Clementina involved. "I guess he can put off +his visit to Boston long enough." + +"Well, I was thinking of him," said Clementina. "Will you ask him?" + +"Yes. I'll get round to it, in the mohning." + +"No-now; right away. I've been talking with Geo'ge about it; and the'e's +no sense in putting it off. I ought to begin taking care of him at +once." + +"Well, I guess when I tell your motha how you're layin' hold, she won't +think it's the same pusson," said her father, proudly. + +"But it is; I haven't changed a bit." + +"You ha'n't changed for the wohse, anyway." + +"Didn't I always try to do what I had to?" + +"I guess you did, Clem." + +"Well, then!" + +Mr. Orson, after a decent hesitation, consented to perform the ceremony. +It took place in a parlor of the hotel, according to the law of New York, +which facilitates marriage so greatly in all respects that it is strange +any one in the State should remain single. He had then a luxury of +choice between attaching himself to the bridal couple as far as Ohio on +his journey home to Michigan, or to Claxon who was going to take the boat +for Boston the next day on his way to Middlemount. He decided for +Claxon, since he could then see Mrs. Lander's lawyer at once, and arrange +with him for getting out of the vice-consul's hands the money which he +was holding for an authoritative demand. He accepted without open +reproach the handsome fee which the elder Hinkle gave him for his +services, and even went so far as to say, "If your son should ever be +blest with a return to health, he has got a helpmeet such as there are +very few of." He then admonished the young couple, in whatever trials +life should have in store for them, to be resigned, and always to be +prepared for the worst. When he came later to take leave of them, he was +apparently not equal to the task of fitly acknowledging the return which +Hinkle made him of all the money remaining to Clementina out of the sum +last given her by Mrs. Lander, but he hid any disappointment he might +have suffered, and with a brief, "Thank you," put it in his pocket. + +Hinkle told Clementina of the apathetic behavior of Mr. Orson; he added +with a laugh like his old self, "It's the best that he doesn't seem +prepared for." + +"Yes," she assented. "He wasn't very chee'ful. But I presume that he +meant well. It must be a trial for him to find out that Mrs. Landa +wasn't rich, after all." + +It was apparently never a trial to her. She went to Ohio with her +husband and took up her life on the farm, where it was wisely judged that +he had the best chance of working out of the wreck of his health and +strength. There was often the promise and always the hope of this, and +their love knew no doubt of the future. Her sisters-in-law delighted in +all her strangeness and difference, while they petted her as something +not to be separated from him in their petting of their brother; to his +mother she was the darling which her youngest had never ceased to be; +Clementina once went so far as to say to him that if she was ever +anything she would like to be a Moravian. + +The question of religion was always related in their minds to the +question of Gregory, to whom they did justice in their trust of each +other. It was Hinkle himself who reasoned out that if Gregory was +narrow, his narrowness was of his conscience and not of his heart or his +mind. She respected the memory of her first lover; but it was as if he +were dead, now, as well as her young dream of him, and she read with a +curious sense of remoteness, a paragraph which her husband found in the +religious intelligence of his Sunday paper, announcing the marriage of +the Rev. Frank Gregory to a lady described as having been a frequent and +bountiful contributor to the foreign missions. She was apparently a +widow, and they conjectured that she was older than he. His departure +for his chosen field of missionary labor in China formed part of the news +communicated by the rather exulting paragraph. + +"Well, that is all right," said Clementina's husband. "He is a good man, +and he is where he can do nothing but good. I am glad I needn't feel +sorry for him, any more." + +Clementina's father must have given such a report of Hinkle and his +family, that they felt easy at home in leaving her to the lot she had +chosen. When Claxon parted from her, he talked of coming out with her +mother to see her that fall; but it was more than a year before they got +round to it. They did not come till after the birth of her little girl, +and her father then humorously allowed that perhaps they would not have +got round to it at all if something of the kind had not happened. The +Hinkles and her father and mother liked one another, so much that in the +first glow of his enthusiasm Claxon talked of settling down in Ohio, and +the older Hinkle drove him about to look at some places that were for +sale. But it ended in his saying one day that he missed the hills, and +he did not believe that he would know enough to come in when it rained if +he did not see old Middlemount with his nightcap on first. His wife and +he started home with the impatience of their years, rather earlier than +they had meant to go, and they were silent for a little while after they +left the flag-station where Hinkle and Clementina had put them aboard +their train. + +"Well?" said Claxon, at last. + +"Well?" echoed his wife, and then she did not speak for a little while +longer. At last she asked, + +"D'he look that way when you fust see him in New Yo'k?" + +Claxon gave his honesty time to get the better of his optimism. Even +then he answered evasively, "He doos look pootty slim." + +"The way I cypher it out," said his wife, "he no business to let her +marry him, if he wa'n't goin' to get well. It was throwin' of herself +away, as you may say." + +"I don't know about that," said Claxon, as if the point had occurred to +him, too, and had been already argued in his mind. "I guess they must +'a' had it out, there in New York before they got married--or she had. +I don't believe but what he expected to get well, right away. It's the +kind of a thing that lingas along, and lingas along. As fah fo'th as +Clem went, I guess there wa'n't any let about it. I guess she'd made up +her mind from the staht, and she was goin' to have him if she had to hold +him on his feet to do it. Look he'a! W hat would you done?" + +"Oh, I presume we're all fools!" said Mrs. Claxon, impatient of a sex not +always so frank with itself. "But that don't excuse him." + +"I don't say it doos," her husband admitted. "But I presume he was +expectin' to get well right away, then. And I don't believe," he added, +energetically, "but what he will, yet. As I undastand, there ain't +anything ogganic about him. It's just this he'e nuvvous prostration, +resultin' from shock, his docta tells me; and he'll wo'k out of that all +right." + +They said no more, and Mrs. Claxon did not recur to any phase of the +situation till she undid the lunch which the Hinkles had put up for them, +and laid out on the napkin in her lap the portions of cold ham and cold +chicken, the buttered biscuit, and the little pot of apple-butter, with +the large bottle of cold coffee. Then she sighed, "They live well." + +"Yes," said her husband, glad of any concession, "and they ah' good +folks. And Clem's as happy as a bud with 'em, you can see that." + +"Oh, she was always happy enough, if that's all you want. I presume she +was happy with that hectorin' old thing that fooled her out of her +money." + +"I ha'n't ever regretted that money, Rebecca," said Claxon, stiffly, +almost sternly, "and I guess you a'n't, eitha." + +"I don't say I have," retorted Mrs. Claxon. "But I don't like to be made +a fool of. I presume," she added, remotely, but not so irrelevantly, +"Clem could ha' got 'most anybody, ova the'a." + +"Well," said Claxon, taking refuge in the joke, "I shouldn't want her to +marry a crowned head, myself." + +It was Clementina who drove the clay-bank colt away from the station +after the train had passed out of sight. Her husband sat beside her, and +let her take the reins from his nerveless grasp; and when they got into +the shelter of the piece of woods that the road passed through he put up +his hands to his face, and broke into sobs. She allowed him to weep on, +though she kept saying, "Geo'ge, Geo'ge," softly, and stroking his knee +with the hand next him. When his sobbing stopped, she said, "I guess +they've had a pleasant visit; but I'm glad we'a together again." He took +up her hand and kissed the back of it, and then clutched it hard, but did +not speak. "It's strange," she went on, "how I used to be home-sick for +father and motha"--she had sometimes lost her Yankee accent in her +association with his people, and spoke with their Western burr, but she +found it in moments of deeper feeling--" when I was there in Europe, and +now I'm glad to have them go. I don't want anybody to be between us; and +I want to go back to just the way we we'e befo'e they came. It's been a +strain on you, and now you must throw it all off and rest, and get up +your strength. One thing, I could see that fatha noticed the gain you +had made since he saw you in New Yo'k. He spoke about it to me the fust +thing, and he feels just the way I do about it. He don't want you to +hurry and get well, but take it slowly, and not excite yourself. He +believes in your gleaner, and he knows all about machinery. He says the +patent makes it puffectly safe, and you can take your own time about +pushing it; it's su'a to go. And motha liked you. She's not one to talk +a great deal--she always leaves that to father and me--but she's got deep +feelings, and she just worshipped the baby! I neva saw her take a child +in her ahms before; but she seemed to want to hold the baby all the +time." She stopped, and then added, tenderly, "Now, I know what you ah' +thinking about, Geo'ge, and I don't want you to think about it any more. +If you do, I shall give up." + +They had come to a bad piece of road where a Slough of thick mud forced +the wagon-way over the stumps of a turnout in the woods. "You had better +let me have the reins, Clementina," he said. He drove home over the +yellow leaves of the hickories and the crimson leaves of the maples, that +heavy with the morning dew, fell slanting through the still air; and on +the way he began to sing; his singing made her heart ache. His father +came out to put up the colt for him; and Hinkle would not have his help. + +He unhitched the colt himself, while his father trembled by with bent +knees; he clapped the colt on the haunch and started him through the +pasture-bars with a gay shout, and then put his arm round Clementina's +waist, and walked her into the kitchen amidst the grins of his mother and +sisters, who said he ought to be ashamed. + +The winter passed, and in the spring he was not so well as he had been in +the fall. It was the out-door life which was best for him, and he picked +up again in the summer. When another autumn came, it was thought best +for him not to risk the confinement of another winter in the North. The +prolongation of the summer in the South would complete his cure, and +Clementina took her baby and went with him to Florida. He was very well, +there, and courageous letters came to Middlemount and Ohio, boasting of +the gains he had made. One day toward spring he came in languid from the +damp, unnatural heat, and the next day he had a fever, which the doctor +would not, in a resort absolutely free from malaria, pronounce malarial. +After it had once declared itself, in compliance with this reluctance, a +simple fever, Hinkle was delirious, and he never knew Clementina again +for the mother of his child. They were once more at Venice in his +ravings, and he was reasoning with her that Belsky was not drowned. + +The mystery of his malady deepened into the mystery of his death. With +that his look of health and youth came back, and as she gazed upon his +gentle face, it wore to her the smile of quaint sweetness that she had +seen it wear the first night it won her fancy at Miss Milray's horse in +Florence. + +Six years after Miss Milray parted with Clementina in Venice she found +herself, towards the close of the summer, at Middlemount. She had +definitely ceased to live in Florence, where she had meant to die, and +had come home to close her eyes. She was in no haste to do this, and in +the meantime she was now at Middlemount with her brother, who had +expressed a wish to revisit the place in memory of Mrs. Milray. It was +the second anniversary of her divorce, which had remained, after a +married life of many vicissitudes, almost the only experience untried in +that relation, and which had been happily accomplished in the courts of +Dacotah, upon grounds that satisfied the facile justice of that State. +Milray had dealt handsomely with his widow, as he unresentfully called +her, and the money he assigned her was of a destiny perhaps as honored as +its origin. She employed it in the negotiation of a second marriage, in +which she redressed the balance of her first by taking a husband somewhat +younger than herself. + +Both Milray and his sister had a wish which was much more than a +curiosity to know what had become of Clementina; they had heard that her +husband was dead, and that she had come back to Middlemount; and Miss +Milray was going to the office, the afternoon following their arrival, to +ask the landlord about her, when she was arrested at the door of the +ball-room by a sight that she thought very pretty. At the bottom of the +room, clearly defined against the long windows behind her, stood the +figure of a lady in the middle of the floor. In rows on either side sat +little girls and little boys who left their places one after another, and +turned at the door to make their manners to her. In response to each +obeisance the lady dropped a curtsey, now to this side, now to that, +taking her skirt between her finger tips on either hand and spreading it +delicately, with a certain elegance of movement, and a grace that was +full of poetry, and to Miss Milray, somehow, full of pathos. There +remained to the end a small mite of a girl, who was the last to leave her +place and bow to the lady. She did not quit the room then, like the +others, but advanced toward the lady who came to meet her, and lifted her +and clasped her to her breast with a kind of passion. She walked down +toward the door where Miss Milray stood, gently drifting over the +polished floor, as if still moved by the music that had ceased, and as +she drew near, Miss Milray gave a cry of joy, and ran upon her. "Why, +Clementina!" she screamed, and caught her and the child both in her arms. + +She began to weep, but Clementina smiled instead of weeping, as she +always used to do. She returned Miss Milray's affectionate greeting with +a tenderness as great as her own, but with a sort of authority, such as +sometimes comes to those who have suffered. She quieted the older woman +with her own serenity, and met the torrent of her questions with as many +answers as their rush permitted, when they were both presently in Miss +Milray's room talking in their old way. From time to time Miss Milray +broke from the talk to kiss the little girl, whom she declared to be +Clementina all over again, and then returned to her better behavior with +an effect of shame for her want of self-control, as if Clementina's mood +had abashed her. Sometimes this was almost severe in its quiet; that was +her mother coming to her share in her; but again she was like her father, +full of the sunny gayety of self-forgetfulness, and then Miss Milray +said, "Now you are the old Clementina!" + +Upon the whole she listened with few interruptions to the story which she +exacted. It was mainly what we know. After her husband's death +Clementina had gone back to his family for a time, and each year since +she had spent part of the winter with them; but it was very lonesome for +her, and she began to be home-sick for Middlemount. They saw it and +considered it. "They ah' the best people, Miss Milray!" she said, and +her voice, which was firm when she spoke of her husband, broke in the +words of minor feeling. Besides being a little homesick, she ended, she +was not willing to live on there, doing nothing for herself, and so she +had come back. + +"And you are here, doing just what you planned when you talked your life +over with me in Venice!" + +"Yes, but life isn't eva just what we plan it to be, Miss Milray." + +"Ah, don't I know it!" + +Clementina surprised Miss Milray by adding, "In a great many things-- +I don't know but in most--it's better. I don't complain of mine"-- + +"You poor child! You never complained of anything--not even of Mrs. +Lander!" + +"But it's different from what I expected; and it's--strange." + +"Yes; life is very strange." + +"I don't mean-losing him. That had to be. I can see, now, that it had +to be almost from the beginning. It seems to me that I knew it had to be +from the fust minute I saw him in New Yo'k; but he didn't, and I am glad +of that. Except when he was getting wohse, he always believed he should +get well; and he was getting well, when he"-- + +Miss Milray did not violate the pause she made with any question, though +it was apparent that Clementina had something on her mind that she wished +to say, and could hardly say of herself. + +She began again, "I was glad through everything that I could live with +him so long. If there is nothing moa, here or anywhe'a, that was +something. But it is strange. Sometimes it doesn't seem as if it had +happened." + +"I think I can understand, Clementina." + +"I feel sometimes as if I hadn't happened myself." She stopped, with a +patient little sigh, and passed her hand across the child's forehead, +in a mother's fashion, and smoothed her hair from it, bending over to +look down into her face. "We think she has her fatha's eyes," she said. + +"Yes, she has," Miss Milray assented, noting the upward slant of the +child's eyes, which gave his quaintness to her beauty. "He had +fascinating eyes." + +After a moment Clementina asked, "Do you believe that the looks are all +that ah' left?" + +Miss Milray reflected. "I know what you mean. I should say character +was left, and personality--somewhere." + +"I used to feel as if it we'e left here, at fust--as if he must come +back. But that had to go." + +"Yes." + +"Everything seems to go. After a while even the loss of him seemed to +go." + +"Yes, losses go with the rest." + +"That's what I mean by its seeming as if it never any of it happened. +Some things before it are a great deal more real." + +"Little things?" + +"Not exactly. But things when I was very young." Miss Milray did not +know quite what she intended, but she knew that Clementina was feeling +her way to something she wanted to say, and she let her alone. "When it +was all over, and I knew that as long as I lived he would be somewhere +else, I tried to be paht of the wo'ld I was left in. Do you think that +was right?" + +"It was wise; and, yes, it was best," said Miss Milray, and for relief +from the tension which was beginning to tell upon her own nerves, she +asked, "I suppose you know about my poor brother? I'd better tell you to +keep you from asking for Mrs. Milray, though I don't know that it's so +very painful with him. There isn't any Mrs. Milray now," she added, and +she explained why. + +Neither of them cared for Mrs. Milray, and they did not pretend to be +concerned about her, but Clementina said, vaguely, as if in recognition +of Mrs. Milray's latest experiment, "Do you believe in second marriages?" + +Miss Milray laughed, "Well, not that kind exactly." + +"No," Clementina assented, and she colored a little. + +Miss Milray was moved to add, "But if you mean another kind, I don't see +why not. My own mother was married twice." + +"Was she?" Clementina looked relieved and encouraged, but she did not say +any more at once. Then she asked, "Do you know what ever became of Mr. +Belsky?" + +"Yes. He's taken his title again, and gone back to live in Russia; he's +made peace with the Czar; I believe." + +"That's nice," said Clementina; and Miss Milray made bold to ask: + +"And what has become of Mr. Gregory?" + +Clementina answered, as Miss Milray thought, tentatively and obliquely: +"You know his wife died." + +"No, I never knew that she lived." + +"Yes. They went out to China, and she died the'a." + +"And is he there yet? But of course! He could never have given up being +a missionary." + +"Well," said Clementina, "he isn't in China. His health gave out, and +he had to come home. He's in Middlemount Centa." + +Miss Milray suppressed the "Oh!" that all but broke from her lips. +"Preaching to the heathen, there?" she temporized. + +"To the summa folks," Clementina explained, innocent of satire. "They +have got a Union Chapel the'a, now, and Mr. Gregory has been preaching +all summa." There seemed nothing more that Miss Milray could prompt her +to say, but it was not quite with surprise that she heard Clementina +continue, as if it were part of the explanation, and followed from the +fact she had stated, "He wants me to marry him." + +Miss Milray tried to emulate her calm in asking, "And shall you?" + +"I don't know. I told him I would see; he only asked me last night. It +would be kind of natural. He was the fust. You may think it is +strange"-- + +Miss Milray, in the superstition of her old-maidenhood concerning love, +really thought it cold-blooded and shocking; but she said, "Oh, no." + +Clementina resumed: "And he says that if it was right for me to stop +caring for him when I did, it is right now for me to ca'e for him again, +where the'e's no one to be hu't by it. Do you think it is?" + +"Yes; why not?" Miss Milray was forced to the admission against what she +believed the finer feelings 'of her nature. + +Clementina sighed, "I suppose he's right. I always thought he was good. +Women don't seem to belong very much to themselves in this wo'ld, do +they?" + +"No, they seem to belong to the men, either because they want the men, or +the men want them; it comes to the same thing. I suppose you don't wish +me to advise you, my dear?" + +"No. I presume it's something I've got to think out for myself." + +"But I think he's good, too. I ought to say that much, for I didn't +always stand his friend with you. If Mr. Gregory has any fault it's +being too scrupulous." + +"You mean, about that old trouble--our not believing just the same?" +Miss Milray meant something much more temperamental than that, but she +allowed Clementina to limit her meaning, and Clementina went on. +"He's changed all round now. He thinks it's all in the life. He says +that in China they couldn't understand what he believed, but they could +what he lived. And he knows I neva could be very religious." + +It was in Miss Milray's heart to protest, "Clementina, I think you are +one of the most religious persons I ever knew," but she forebore, because +the praise seemed to her an invasion of Clementina's dignity. She merely +said, "Well, I am glad he is one of those who grow more liberal as they +grow older. That is a good sign for your happiness. But I dare say it's +more of his happiness you think." + +"Oh, I should like to be happy, too. There would be no sense in it if I +wasn't." + +"No, certainly not." + +"Miss Milray," said Clementina, with a kind of abruptness, "do you eva +hear anything from Dr. Welwright?" + +"No! Why?" Miss Milray fastened her gaze vividly upon her. + +"Oh, nothing. He wanted me to promise him, there in Venice, too." + +"I didn't know it." + +"Yes. But--I couldn't, then. And now--he's written to me. He wants me +to let him come ova, and see me." + +"And--and will you?" asked Miss Milray, rather breathlessly. + +"I don't know. I don't know as I'd ought. I should like to see him, so +as to be puffectly su'a. But if I let him come, and then didn't--It +wouldn't be right! I always felt as if I'd ought to have seen then that +he ca'ed for me, and stopped him; but I didn't. No, I didn't," she +repeated, nervously. "I respected him, and I liked him; but I neva"-- +She stopped, and then she asked, "What do you think I'd ought to do, Miss +Milray?" + +Miss Milray hesitated. She was thinking superficially that she had never +heard Clementina say had ought, so much, if ever before. Interiorly she +was recurring to a sense of something like all this before, and to the +feeling which she had then that Clementina was really cold-blooded and +self-seeking. But she remembered that in her former decision, Clementina +had finally acted from her heart and her conscience, and she rose from +her suspicion with a rebound. She dismissed as unworthy of Clementina +any theory which did not account for an ideal of scrupulous and unselfish +justice in her. + +"That is something that nobody can say but yourself, Clementina," she +answered, gravely. + +"Yes," sighed Clementina, "I presume that is so." + +She rose, and took her little girl from Miss Milray's knee. "Say good- +bye," she bade, looking tenderly down at her. + +Miss Milray expected the child to put up her lips to be kissed. But she +let go her mother's hand, took her tiny skirts between her finger-tips, +and dropped a curtsey. + +"You little witch!" cried Miss Milray. "I want a hug," and she crushed +her to her breast, while the child twisted her face round and anxiously +questioned her mother's for her approval. "Tell her it's all right, +Clementina!" cried Miss Milray. "When she's as old as you were in +Florence, I'm going to make you give her to me." + +"Ah' you going back to Florence?" asked Clementina, provisionally. + +"Oh, no! You can't go back to anything. That's what makes New York so +impossible. I think we shall go to Los Angeles." + + + + +XL. + +On her way home Clementina met a man walking swiftly forward. A sort of +impassioned abstraction expressed itself in his gait and bearing. They +had both entered the shadow of the deep pine woods that flanked the way +on either side, and the fallen needles helped with the velvety summer +dust of the roadway to hush their steps from each other. She saw him far +off, but he was not aware of her till she was quite near him. + +"Oh!" he said, with a start. "You filled my mind so full that I couldn't +have believed you were anywhere outside of it. I was coming to get you-- +I was coming to get my answer." + +Gregory had grown distinctly older. Sickness and hardship had left +traces in his wasted face, but the full beard he wore helped to give him +an undue look of age. + +"I don't know," said Clementina, slowly, "as I've got an answa fo' you, +Mr. Gregory--yet." + +"No answer is better that the one I am afraid of!" + +"Oh, I'm not so sure of that," she said, with gentle perplexity, as she +stood, holding the hand of her little girl, who stared shyly at the +intense face of the man before her. + +"I am," he retorted. "I have been thinking it all ever, Clementina. +I've tried not to think selfishly about it, but I can't pretend that my +wish isn't selfish. It is! I want you for myself, and because I've +always wanted you, and not for any other reason. I never cared for any +one but you in the way I cared for you, and"-- + +"Oh!" she grieved. "I never ca'ed at all for you after I saw him." + +"I know it must be shocking to you; I haven't told you with any wretched +hope that it would commend me to you!" + +"I don't say it was so very bad," said Clementina, reflectively, "if it +was something you couldn't help." + +"It was something I couldn't help. Perhaps I didn't try ." + +"Did-she know it?" + +"She knew it from the first; I told her before we were married." + +Clementina drew back a little, insensibly pulling her child with her. +"I don't believe I exactly like it." + +"I knew you wouldn't! If I could have thought you would, I hope I +shouldn't have wished--and feared--so much to tell you." + +"Oh, I know you always wanted to do what you believed was right, Mr. +Gregory," she answered. "But I haven't quite thought it out yet. You +mustn't hurry me." + +"No, no! Heaven forbid." He stood aside to let her pass. + +"I was just going home," she added. + +"May I go with you?" + +"Yes, if you want to. I don't know but you betta; we might as well; +I want to talk with you. Don't you think it's something we ought to talk +about-sensibly?" + +"Why, of course! And I shall try to be guided by you; I should always +submit to be ruled by you, if"-- + +"That's not what I mean, exactly. I don't want to do the ruling. You +don't undastand me." + +"I'm afraid I don't," he assented, humbly. + +"If you did, you wouldn't say that--so." He did not venture to make any +answer, and they walked on without speaking, till she asked, "Did you +know that Miss Milray was at the Middlemount?" + +"Miss Milray! Of Florence?" + +"With her brother. I didn't see him; Mrs. Milray is not he'a; they ah' +divo'ced. Miss Milray used to be very nice to me in Florence. She isn't +going back there any moa. She says you can't go back to anything. +Do you think we can?" + +She had left moments between her incoherent sentences where he might +interrupt her if he would, but he waited for her question. "I hoped we +might; but perhaps"-- + +"No, no. We couldn't. We couldn't go back to that night when you threw +the slippas into the riva, no' to that time in Florence when we gave up, +no' to that day in Venice when I had to tell you that I ca'ed moa fo' +some one else. Don't you see?" + +"Yes, I see," he said, in quick revulsion from the hope he had expressed. +"The past is full of the pain and shame of my errors!" + +"I don't want to go back to what's past, eitha," she reasoned, without +gainsaying him. + +She stopped again, as if that were all, and he asked, "Then is that my +answer?" + +"I don't believe that even in the otha wo'ld we shall want to go back to +the past, much, do you?" she pursued, thoughtfully. + +Once Gregory would have answered confidently; he even now checked an +impulse to do so. "I don't know," he owned, meekly. + +"I do like you, Mr. Gregory!" she relented, as if touched by his +meekness, to the confession. "You know I do--moa than I ever expected to +like anybody again. But it's not because I used to like you, or because +I think you always acted nicely. I think it was cruel of you, if you +ca'ed for me, to let me believe you didn't, afta that fust time. I can't +eva think it wasn't, no matta why you did it." + +"It was atrocious. I can see that now." + +"I say it, because I shouldn't eva wish to say it again. I know that all +the time you we'e betta than what you did, and I blame myself a good deal +moa fo' not knowing when you came to Florence that I had begun to ca'e +fo'some one else. But I did wait till I could see you again, so as to be +su'a which I ca'ed for the most. I tried to be fai'a, before I told +you that I wanted to be free. That is all," she said, gently, and +Gregory perceived that the word was left definitely to him. + +He could not take it till he had disciplined himself to accept +unmurmuringly his sentence as he understood it. "At any rate," he began, +"I can thank you for rating my motive above my conduct." + +"Oh," she said. "I don't think either of us acted very well. I didn't +know till aftawa'ds that I was glad to have you give up, the way you did +in Florence. I was--bewild'ed. But I ought to have known, and I want +you to undastand everything, now. I don't ca'e for you because I used to +when I was almost a child, and I shouldn't want you to ca'e for me eitha, +because you did then. That's why I wish you had neva felt that you had +always ca'ed fo' me." + +"Yes," said Gregory. He let fall his head in despair. + +"That is what I mean," said Clementina. "If we ah' going to begin +togetha, now, it's got to be as if we had neva begun before. And you +mustn't think, or say, or look as if the'e had been anything in oua lives +but ouaselves. Will you? Do you promise?" She stopped, and put her +hand on his breast, and pushed against it with a nervous vehemence. + +"No!" he said. "I don't promise, for I couldn't keep my promise. What +you ask is impossible. The past is part of us; it can't be ignored any +more than it can be destroyed. If we take each other, it must be for all +that we have been as well as all that we are. If we haven't the courage +for that we must part." + +He dropped the little one's hand which he had been holding, and moved a +few steps aside. "Don't!" she said. "They'll think I've made you," and +he took the child's hand again. + +They had emerged from the shadow of the woods, and come in sight of her +father's house. Claxon was standing coatless before the door in full +enjoyment of the late afternoon air; his wife beside him, at sight of +Gregory, quelled a natural impulse to run round the corner of the house +from the presence of strangers. + +"I wonda what they'a sayin'," she fretted. + +"It looks some as if she was sayin' yes," said Claxon, with an impersonal +enjoyment of his conjecture. "I guess she saw he was bound not to take +no for an answa." + +"I don't know as I should like it very much," his wife relucted. +"Clem's doin' very well, as it is. She no need to marry again." + +"Oh, I guess it a'n't that altogetha. He's a good man." Claxon mused a +moment upon the figures which had begun to advance again, with the little +one between them, and then gave way in a burst of paternal pride, "And I +don't know as I should blame him so very much for wantin' Clem. She +always did want to be of moa use--But I guess she likes him too." + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +Didn't reason about their beliefs, but only argued +Dull, cold self-absorption +Everything seems to go +Gift of waiting for things to happen +He's so resting +It's the best that he doesn't seem prepared for +Life alone is credible to the young +Morbid egotism +Motives lie nearer the surface than most people commonly pretend +One time where one may choose safest what one likes best +Only man I ever saw who would know how to break the fall +Real artistocracy is above social prejudice +Singleness of a nature that was all pose +Submitted, as people always do with the trials of others +Sunny gayety of self-forgetfulness +Understood when I've said something that doesn't mean anything +We change whether we ought, or not +When she's really sick, she's better +Willing that she should do herself a wrong +Women don't seem to belong very much to themselves +You can't go back to anything +You were not afraid, and you were not bold; you were just right + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Ragged Lady, v2 +by William Dean Howells + diff --git a/old/wh2rl11.zip b/old/wh2rl11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38391fc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/wh2rl11.zip |