diff options
Diffstat (limited to '4270-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/4270-h.htm | 13203 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/enlarge.jpg | bin | 0 -> 789 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/{0006}.jpg | bin | 0 -> 409539 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/{0007}.jpg | bin | 0 -> 68192 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/{0091}.jpg | bin | 0 -> 339258 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/{0096}.jpg | bin | 0 -> 416096 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/{0159}.jpg | bin | 0 -> 470291 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/{0209}.jpg | bin | 0 -> 425964 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/{0243}.jpg | bin | 0 -> 538954 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/{0277}.jpg | bin | 0 -> 271577 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4270-h/images/{0325}.jpg | bin | 0 -> 502552 bytes |
11 files changed, 13203 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/4270-h/4270-h.htm b/4270-h/4270-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc4baa5 --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/4270-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13203 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Ragged Lady, by William Dean Howells + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ragged Lady, Complete, 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, Complete + +Author: William Dean Howells + +Release Date: September 1, 2006 [EBook #4270] +Last Updated: February 25, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAGGED LADY, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + RAGGED LADY. + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By William Dean Howells + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0006}.jpg" alt="{0006}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0006}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> <b>Part 1. </b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> IX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#linkX">X.</a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> XII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XIV. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> <b>Part 2.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> XVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> XVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> XIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> XX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> XI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> XXII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> XXIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> XXV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> XXVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> XXVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> XXVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> XXIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> XXX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> XXXI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> XXXII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> XXXIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> XXXIV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> XXXV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> XXXVI. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> XXXVII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0039"> XXXVIII. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0040"> XXXIX. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0041"> XL. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + Part 1. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + It was their first summer at Middlemount and the Landers did not know the + roads. When they came to a place where they had a choice of two, she said + that now he must get out of the carry-all and ask at the house standing a + little back in the edge of the pine woods, which road they ought to take + for South Middlemount. She alleged many cases in which they had met + trouble through his perverse reluctance to find out where they were before + he pushed rashly forward in their drives. Whilst she urged the facts she + reached forward from the back seat where she sat, and held her hand upon + the reins to prevent his starting the horse, which was impartially + cropping first the sweet fern on one side and then the blueberry bushes on + the other side of the narrow wheel-track. She declared at last that if he + would not get out and ask she would do it herself, and at this the dry + little man jerked the reins in spite of her, and the horse suddenly pulled + the carry-all to the right, and seemed about to overset it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what are you doing, Albe't?” Mrs. Lander lamented, falling helpless + against the back of her seat. “Haven't I always told you to speak to the + hoss fust?” + </p> + <p> + “He wouldn't have minded my speakin',” said her husband. “I'm goin' to + take you up to the dooa so that you can ask for youaself without gettin' + out.” + </p> + <p> + This was so well, in view of Mrs. Lander's age and bulk, and the hardship + she must have undergone, if she had tried to carry out her threat, that + she was obliged to take it in some sort as a favor; and while the vehicle + rose and sank over the surface left rough, after building, in front of the + house, like a vessel on a chopping sea, she was silent for several + seconds. + </p> + <p> + The house was still in a raw state of unfinish, though it seemed to have + been lived in for a year at least. The earth had been banked up at the + foundations for warmth in winter, and the sheathing of the walls had been + splotched with irregular spaces of weather boarding; there was a good roof + over all, but the window-casings had been merely set in their places and + the trim left for a future impulse of the builder. A block of wood + suggested the intention of steps at the front door, which stood hospitably + open, but remained unresponsive for some time after the Landers made their + appeal to the house at large by anxious noises in their throats, and by + talking loud with each other, and then talking low. They wondered whether + there were anybody in the house; and decided that there must be, for there + was smoke coming out of the stove pipe piercing the roof of the wing at + the rear. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Lander brought himself under censure by venturing, without his wife's + authority, to lean forward and tap on the door-frame with the butt of his + whip. At the sound, a shrill voice called instantly from the region of the + stove pipe, “Clem! Clementina? Go to the front dooa! The'e's somebody + knockin'.” The sound of feet, soft and quick, made itself heard within, + and in a few moments a slim maid, too large for a little girl, too + childlike for a young girl, stood in the open doorway, looking down on the + elderly people in the buggy, with a face as glad as a flower's. She had + blue eyes, and a smiling mouth, a straight nose, and a pretty chin whose + firm jut accented a certain wistfulness of her lips. She had hair of a + dull, dark yellow, which sent out from its thick mass light prongs, or + tendrils, curving inward again till they delicately touched it. Her tanned + face was not very different in color from her hair, and neither were her + bare feet, which showed well above her ankles in the calico skirt she + wore. At sight of the elders in the buggy she involuntarily stooped a + little to lengthen her skirt in effect, and at the same time she pulled it + together sidewise, to close a tear in it, but she lost in her anxiety no + ray of the joy which the mere presence of the strangers seemed to give + her, and she kept smiling sunnily upon them while she waited for them to + speak. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Mrs. Lander began with involuntary apology in her tone, “we just + wished to know which of these roads went to South Middlemount. We've come + from the hotel, and we wa'n't quite ce'tain.” + </p> + <p> + The girl laughed as she said, “Both roads go to South Middlemount'm; they + join together again just a little piece farther on.” + </p> + <p> + The girl and the woman in their parlance replaced the letter 'r' by vowel + sounds almost too obscure to be represented, except where it came last in + a word before a word beginning with a vowel; there it was annexed to the + vowel by a strong liaison, according to the custom universal in rural New + England. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do they?” said Mrs. Lander. + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm,” answered the girl. “It's a kind of tu'nout in the wintatime; or I + guess that's what made it in the beginning; sometimes folks take one hand + side and sometimes the other, and that keeps them separate; but they're + really the same road, 'm.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Mrs. Lander, and she pushed her husband to make him say + something, too, but he remained silently intent upon the child's + prettiness, which her blue eyes seemed to illumine with a light of their + own. She had got hold of the door, now, and was using it as if it was a + piece of drapery, to hide not only the tear in her gown, but somehow both + her bare feet. She leaned out beyond the edge of it; and then, at moments + she vanished altogether behind it. + </p> + <p> + Since Mr. Lander would not speak, and made no sign of starting up his + horse, Mrs. Lander added, “I presume you must be used to havin' people ask + about the road, if it's so puzzlin'.” + </p> + <p> + “O, yes'm,” returned the girl, gladly. “Almost every day, in the + summatime.” + </p> + <p> + “You have got a pretty place for a home, he'e,” said Mrs. Lander. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it will be when it's finished up.” Without leaning forward + inconveniently Mrs. Lander could see that the partitions of the house + within were lathed, but not plastered, and the girl looked round as if to + realize its condition and added, “It isn't quite finished inside.” + </p> + <p> + “We wouldn't, have troubled you,” said Mrs. Lander, “if we had seen + anybody to inquire of.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm,” said the girl. “It a'n't any trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “There are not many otha houses about, very nea', but I don't suppose you + get lonesome; young folks are plenty of company for themselves, and if + you've got any brothas and sistas—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said the girl, with a tender laugh, “I've got eva so many of them!” + </p> + <p> + There was a stir in the bushes about the carriage, and Mrs. Lander was + aware for an instant of children's faces looking through the leaves at her + and then flashing out of sight, with gay cries at being seen. A boy, older + than the rest, came round in front of the horse and passed out of sight at + the corner of the house. + </p> + <p> + Lander now leaned back and looked over his shoulder at his wife as if he + might hopefully suppose she had come to the end of her questions, but she + gave no sign of encouraging him to start on their way again. + </p> + <p> + “That your brotha, too?” she asked the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. He's the oldest of the boys; he's next to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Mrs. Lander thoughtfully, “as I noticed how many boys + there were, or how many girls.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got two sistas, and three brothas, 'm,” said the girl, always + smiling sweetly. She now emerged from the shelter of the door, and Mrs. + Lander perceived that the slight movements of such parts of her person as + had been evident beyond its edge were the effects of some endeavor at + greater presentableness. She had contrived to get about her an overskirt + which covered the rent in her frock, and she had got a pair of shoes on + her feet. Stockings were still wanting, but by a mutual concession of her + shoe-tops and the border of her skirt, they were almost eliminated from + the problem. This happened altogether when the girl sat down on the + threshold, and got herself into such foreshortening that the eye of Mrs. + Lander in looking down upon her could not detect their absence. Her little + head then showed in the dark of the doorway like a painted head against + its background. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't been livin' here a great while, by the looks,” said Mrs. + Lander. “It don't seem to be clea'ed off very much.” + </p> + <p> + “We've got quite a ga'den-patch back of the house,” replied the girl, “and + we should have had moa, but fatha wasn't very well, this spring; he's eva + so much better than when we fust came he'e.” + </p> + <p> + “It has the name of being a very healthy locality,” said Mrs. Lander, + somewhat discontentedly, “though I can't see as it's done me so very much + good, yit. Both your payrints livin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. Oh, yes, indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “And your mother, is she real rugged? She need to be, with such a flock of + little ones!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, motha's always well. Fatha was just run down, the doctas said, and + ought to keep more in the open air. That's what he's done since he came + he'e. He helped a great deal on the house and he planned it all out + himself.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he a ca'penta?” asked Mrs. Lander. + </p> + <p> + “No'm; but he's—I don't know how to express it—he likes to do + every kind of thing.” + </p> + <p> + “But he's got some business, ha'n't he?” A shadow of severity crept over + Mrs. Lander's tone, in provisional reprehension of possible shiftlessness. + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. He was a machinist at the Mills; that's what the doctas thought + didn't agree with him. He bought a piece of land he'e, so as to be in the + pine woods, and then we built this house.” + </p> + <p> + “When did you say you came?” + </p> + <p> + “Two yea's ago, this summa.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! What did you do befoa you built this house?” + </p> + <p> + “We camped the first summa.” + </p> + <p> + “You camped? In a tent?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it was pahtly a tent, and pahtly bank.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have thought you would have died.” + </p> + <p> + The girl laughed. “Oh, no, we all kept fast-rate. We slept in the tents--we + had two—and we cooked in the shanty.” She smiled at the notion in + adding, “At fast the neighbas thought we we'e Gipsies; and the summa folks + thought we were Indians, and wanted to get baskets of us.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander did not know what to think, and she asked, “But didn't it + almost perish you, stayin' through the winter in an unfinished house?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it was pretty cold. But it was so dry, the air was, and the woods + kept the wind off nicely.” + </p> + <p> + The same shrill voice in the region of the stovepipe which had sent the + girl to the Landers now called her from them. “Clem! Come here a minute!” + </p> + <p> + The girl said to Mrs. Lander, politely, “You'll have to excuse me, now'm. + I've got to go to motha.” + </p> + <p> + “So do!” said Mrs. Lander, and she was so taken by the girl's art and + grace in getting to her feet and fading into the background of the hallway + without visibly casting any detail of her raiment, that she was not aware + of her husband's starting up the horse in time to stop him. They were + fairly under way again, when she lamented, “What you doin', Albe't? Whe'e + you goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' to South Middlemount. Didn't you want to?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, of all the men! Drivin' right off without waitin' to say thankye to + the child, or take leave, or anything!” + </p> + <p> + “Seemed to me as if SHE took leave.” + </p> + <p> + “But she was comin' back! And I wanted to ask—” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you asked enough for one while. Ask the rest to-morra.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander was a woman who could often be thrown aside from an immediate + purpose, by the suggestion of some remoter end, which had already, + perhaps, intimated itself to her. She said, “That's true,” but by the time + her husband had driven down one of the roads beyond the woods into open + country, she was a quiver of intolerable curiosity. “Well, all I've got to + say is that I sha'n't rest till I know all about 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Find out when we get back to the hotel, I guess,” said her husband. + </p> + <p> + “No, I can't wait till I get back to the hotel. I want to know now. I want + you should stop at the very fust house we come to. Dea'! The'e don't seem + to be any houses, any moa.” She peered out around the side of the + carry-all and scrutinized the landscape. “Hold on! No, yes it is, too! + Whoa! Whoa! The'e's a man in that hay-field, now!” + </p> + <p> + She laid hold of the reins and pulled the horse to a stand. Mr. Lander + looked round over his shoulder at her. “Hadn't you betta wait till you get + within half a mile of the man?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I want you should stop when you do git to him. Will you? I want to + speak to him, and ask him all about those folks.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't suppose you'd let me have much of a chance,” said her husband. + When he came within easy hail of the man in the hay-field, he pulled up + beside the meadow-wall, where the horse began to nibble the blackberry + vines that overran it. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander beckoned and called to the man, who had stopped pitching hay + and now stood leaning on the handle of his fork. At the signs and sounds + she made, he came actively forward to the road, bringing his fork with + him. When he arrived within easy conversational distance, he planted the + tines in the ground and braced himself at an opposite incline from the + long smooth handle, and waited for Mrs. Lander to begin. + </p> + <p> + “Will you please tell us who those folks ah', livin' back there in the + edge of the woods, in that new unfinished house?” + </p> + <p> + The man released his fork with one hand to stoop for a head of timothy + that had escaped the scythe, and he put the stem of it between his teeth, + where it moved up and down, and whipped fantastically about as he talked, + before he answered, “You mean the Claxons?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what thei' name is.” Mrs. Lander repeated exactly what she + had said. + </p> + <p> + The farmer said, “Long, red-headed man, kind of sickly-lookin'?” + </p> + <p> + “We didn't see the man—” + </p> + <p> + “Little woman, skinny-lookin; pootty tonguey?” + </p> + <p> + “We didn't see her, eitha; but I guess we hea'd her at the back of the + house.” + </p> + <p> + “Lot o' children, about as big as pa'tridges, runnin' round in the + bushes?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! And a very pretty-appearing girl; about thi'teen or fou'teen, I + should think.” + </p> + <p> + The farmer pulled his fork out of the ground, and planted it with his + person at new slopes in the figure of a letter A, rather more upright than + before. “Yes; it's them,” he said. “Ha'n't been in the neighbahood a great + while, eitha. Up from down Po'tland way, some'res, I guess. Built that + house last summer, as far as it's got, but I don't believe it's goin' to + git much fa'tha.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what's the matta?” demanded Mrs. Lander in an anguish of interest. + </p> + <p> + The man in the hay-field seemed to think it more dignified to include + Lander in this inquiry, and he said with a glimmer of the eye for him, + “Hea'd of do-nothin' folks?” + </p> + <p> + “Seen 'em, too,” answered Lander, comprehensively. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that a'n't Claxon's complaint exactly. He a'n't a do-nothin'; he's + a do-everything. I guess it's about as bad.” Lander glimmered back at the + man, but did not speak. + </p> + <p> + “Kind of a machinist down at the Mills, where he come from,” the farmer + began again, and Mrs. Lander, eager not to be left out of the affair for a + moment, interrupted: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Yes! That's what the gul said.” + </p> + <p> + “But he don't seem to think't the i'on agreed with him, and now he's goin' + in for wood. Well, he did have a kind of a foot-powa tu'nin' lathe, and + tuned all sots o' things; cups, and bowls, and u'ns for fence-posts, and + vases, and sleeve-buttons and little knick-knacks; but the place bunt + down, here, a while back, and he's been huntin' round for wood, the whole + winta long, to make canes out of for the summa-folks. Seems to think that + the smell o' the wood, whether it's green or it's dry, is goin' to cure + him, and he can't git too much of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I believe it's so, Albe't!” cried Mrs. Lander, as if her husband + had disputed the theory with his taciturn back. He made no other sign of + controversy, and the man in the hay-field went on. + </p> + <p> + “I hea' he's goin' to put up a wind mill, back in an open place he's got, + and use the powa for tu'nin', if he eva gits it up. But he don't seem to + be in any great of a hurry, and they scrape along somehow. Wife takes in + sewin' and the girl wo'ked at the Middlemount House last season. Whole + fam'ly's got to tu'n in and help s'po't a man that can do everything.” + </p> + <p> + The farmer appealed with another humorous cast of his eye to Lander; but + the old man tacitly refused to take any further part in the talk, which + began to flourish apace, in question and answer, between his wife and the + man in the hay-field. It seemed that the children had all inherited the + father's smartness. The oldest boy could beat the nation at figures, and + one of the young ones could draw anything you had a mind to. They were all + clear up in their classes at school, and yet you might say they almost ran + wild, between times. The oldest girl was a pretty-behaved little thing, + but the man in the hay-field guessed there was not very much to her, + compared with some of the boys. Any rate, she had not the name of being so + smart at school. Good little thing, too, and kind of mothered the young + ones. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander, when she had wrung the last drop of information out of him, + let him crawl back to his work, mentally flaccid, and let her husband + drive on, but under a fire of conjecture and asseveration that was + scarcely intermitted till they reached their hotel. That night she talked + a long time about their afternoon's adventure before she allowed him to go + to sleep. She said she must certainly see the child again; that they must + drive down there in the morning, and ask her all about herself. + </p> + <p> + “Albe't,” she concluded; “I wish we had her to live with us. Yes, I do! I + wonder if we could get her to. You know I always did want to adopt a + baby.” + </p> + <p> + “You neva said so,” Mr. Lander opened his mouth almost for the first time, + since the talk began. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't suppose you'd like it,” said his wife. + </p> + <p> + “Well, she a'n't a baby. I guess you'd find you had your hands full, + takon' a half-grown gul like that to bring up.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't be afraid any,” the wife declared. “She has just twined + herself round my heat. I can't get her pretty looks out of my eyes. I know + she's good.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll see how you feel about it in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + The old man began to wind his watch, and his wife seemed to take this for + a sign that the incident was closed, for the present at least. He seldom + talked, but there came times when he would not even listen. One of these + was the time after he had wound his watch. A minute later he had + undressed, with an agility incredible of his years, and was in bed, as + effectively blind and deaf to his wife's appeals as if he were already + asleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + When Albert Gallatin Lander (he was named for an early Secretary of the + Treasury as a tribute to the statesman's financial policy) went out of + business, his wife began to go out of health; and it became the most + serious affair of his declining years to provide for her invalid fancies. + He would have liked to buy a place in the Boston suburbs (he preferred one + of the Newtons) where they could both have had something to do, she inside + of the house, and he outside; but she declared that what they both needed + was a good long rest, with freedom from care and trouble of every kind. + She broke up their establishment in Boston, and stored their furniture, + and she would have made him sell the simple old house in which they had + always lived, on an unfashionable up-and-down-hill street of the West End, + if he had not taken one of his stubborn stands, and let it for a term of + years without consulting her. But she had her way about their own + movements, and they began that life of hotels, which they had now lived so + long that she believed any other impossible. Its luxury and idleness had + told upon each of them with diverse effect. + </p> + <p> + They had both entered upon it in much the same corporal figure, but she + had constantly grown in flesh, while he had dwindled away until he was not + much more than half the weight of his prime. Their digestion was alike + impaired by their joint life, but as they took the same medicines Mrs. + Lander was baffled to account for the varying result. She was sure that + all the anxiety came upon her, and that logically she was the one who + ought to have wasted away. But she had before her the spectacle of a + husband who, while he gave his entire attention to her health, did not + audibly or visibly worry about it, and yet had lost weight in such measure + that upon trying on a pair of his old trousers taken out of storage with + some clothes of her own, he found it impossible to use the side pockets + which the change in his figure carried so far to the rear when the garment + was reduced at the waist. At the same time her own dresses of ten years + earlier would not half meet round her; and one of the most corroding cares + of a woman who had done everything a woman could to get rid of care, was + what to do with those things which they could neither of them ever wear + again. She talked the matter over with herself before her husband, till he + took the desperate measure of sending them back to storage; and they had + been left there in the spring when the Landers came away for the summer. + </p> + <p> + They always spent the later spring months at a hotel in the suburbs of + Boston, where they arrived in May from a fortnight in a hotel at New York, + on their way up from hotels in Washington, Ashville, Aiken and St. + Augustine. They passed the summer months in the mountains, and early in + the autumn they went back to the hotel in the Boston suburbs, where Mrs. + Lander considered it essential to make some sojourn before going to a + Boston hotel for November and December, and getting ready to go down to + Florida in January. She would not on any account have gone directly to the + city from the mountains, for people who did that were sure to lose the + good of their summer, and to feel the loss all the winter, if they did not + actually come down with a fever. + </p> + <p> + She was by no means aware that she was a selfish or foolish person. She + made Mr. Lander subscribe statedly to worthy objects in Boston, which she + still regarded as home, because they had not dwelt any where else since + they ceased to live there; and she took lavishly of tickets for all the + charitable entertainments in the hotels where they stayed. Few if any + guests at hotels enjoyed so much honor from porters, bell-boys, waiters, + chambermaids and bootblacks as the Landers, for they gave richly in fees + for every conceivable service which could be rendered them; they went out + of their way to invent debts of gratitude to menials who had done nothing + for them. He would make the boy who sold papers at the dining-room door + keep the change, when he had been charged a profit of a hundred per cent. + already; and she would let no driver who had plundered them according to + the carriage tariff escape without something for himself. + </p> + <p> + A sense of their munificence penetrated the clerks and proprietors with a + just esteem for guests who always wanted the best of everything, and + questioned no bill for extras. Mrs. Lander, in fact, who ruled these + expenditures, had no knowledge of the value of things, and made her + husband pay whatever was asked. Yet when they lived under their own roof + they had lived simply, and Lander had got his money in an old-fashioned + business way, and not in some delirious speculation such as leaves a man + reckless of money afterwards. He had been first of all a tailor, and then + he had gone into boys' and youths' clothing in a small way, and finally he + had mastered this business and come out at the top, with his hands full. + He invested his money so prosperously that the income for two elderly + people, who had no children, and only a few outlying relations on his + side, was far beyond their wants, or even their whims. + </p> + <p> + She as a woman, who in spite of her bulk and the jellylike majesty with + which she shook in her smoothly casing brown silks, as she entered hotel + dining-rooms, and the severity with which she frowned over her fan down + the length of the hotel drawing-rooms, betrayed more than her husband the + commonness of their origin. She could not help talking, and her accent and + her diction gave her away for a middle-class New England person of village + birth and unfashionable sojourn in Boston. He, on the contrary, lurked + about the hotels where they passed their days in a silence so dignified + that when his verbs and nominatives seemed not to agree, you accused your + own hearing. He was correctly dressed, as an elderly man should be, in the + yesterday of the fashions, and he wore with impressiveness a silk hat + whenever such a hat could be worn. A pair of drab cloth gaiters did much + to identify him with an old school of gentlemen, not very definite in time + or place. He had a full gray beard cut close, and he was in the habit of + pursing his mouth a great deal. But he meant nothing by it, and his wife + meant nothing by her frowning. They had no wish to subdue or overawe any + one, or to pass for persons of social distinction. They really did not + know what society was, and they were rather afraid of it than otherwise as + they caught sight of it in their journeys and sojourns. They led a life of + public seclusion, and dwelling forever amidst crowds, they were all in all + to each other, and nothing to the rest of the world, just as they had been + when they resided (as they would have said) on Pinckney street. In their + own house they had never entertained, though they sometimes had company, + in the style of the country town where Mrs. Lander grew up. As soon as she + was released to the grandeur of hotel life, she expanded to the full + measure of its responsibilities and privileges, but still without seeking + to make it the basis of approach to society. Among the people who + surrounded her, she had not so much acquaintance as her husband even, who + talked so little that he needed none. She sometimes envied his ease in + getting on with people when he chose; and his boldness in speaking to + fellow guests and fellow travellers, if he really wanted anything. She + wanted something of them all the time, she wanted their conversation and + their companionship; but in her ignorance of the social arts she was + thrown mainly upon the compassion of the chambermaids. She kept these + talking as long as she could detain them in her rooms; and often fed them + candy (which she ate herself with childish greed) to bribe them to further + delays. If she was staying some days in a hotel, she sent for the + house-keeper, and made all she could of her as a listener, and as soon as + she settled herself for a week, she asked who was the best doctor in the + place. With doctors she had no reserves, and she poured out upon them the + history of her diseases and symptoms in an inexhaustible flow of + statement, conjecture and misgiving, which was by no means affected by her + profound and inexpugnable ignorance of the principles of health. From time + to time she forgot which side her liver was on, but she had been doctored + (as she called it) for all her organs, and she was willing to be doctored + for any one of them that happened to be in the place where she fancied a + present discomfort. She was not insensible to the claims which her + husband's disorders had upon science, and she liked to end the tale of her + own sufferings with some such appeal as: “I wish you could do something + for Mr. Landa, too, docta.” She made him take a little of each medicine + that was left for her; but in her presence he always denied that there was + anything the matter with him, though he was apt to follow the doctor out + of the room, and get a prescription from him for some ailment which he + professed not to believe in himself, but wanted to quiet Mrs. Lander's + mind about. + </p> + <p> + He rose early, both from long habit, and from the scant sleep of an + elderly man; he could not lie in bed; but his wife always had her + breakfast there and remained so long that the chambermaid had done up most + of the other rooms and had leisure for talk with her. As soon as he was + awake, he stole softly out and was the first in the dining-room for + breakfast. He owned to casual acquaintance in moments of expansion that + breakfast was his best meal, but he did what he could to make it his worst + by beginning with oranges and oatmeal, going forward to beefsteak and + fried potatoes, and closing with griddle cakes and syrup, washed down with + a cup of cocoa, which his wife decided to be wholesomer than coffee. By + the time he had finished such a repast, he crept out of the dining-room in + a state of tension little short of anguish, which he confided to the + sympathy of the bootblack in the washroom. + </p> + <p> + He always went from having his shoes polished to get a toothpick at the + clerk's desk; and at the Middlemount House, the morning after he had been + that drive with Mrs. Lander, he lingered a moment with his elbows beside + the register. “How about a buckboa'd?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Something you can drive yourself”—the clerk professionally dropped + his eye to the register—“Mr. Lander?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no, I guess not, this time,” the little man returned, after a + moment's reflection. “Know anything of a family named Claxon, down the + road, here, a piece?” He twisted his head in the direction he meant. + </p> + <p> + “This is my first season at Middlemount; but I guess Mr. Atwell will + know.” The clerk called to the landlord, who was smoking in his private + room behind the office, and the landlord came out. The clerk repeated Mr. + Lander's questions. + </p> + <p> + “Pootty good kind of folks, I guess,” said the landlord provisionally, + through his cigar-smoke. “Man's a kind of univussal genius, but he's got a + nice family of children; smaht as traps, all of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “How about that oldest gul?” asked Mr. Lander. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the'a,” said the landlord, taking the cigar out of his mouth. “I + think she's about the nicest little thing goin'. We've had her up he'e, to + help out in a busy time, last summer, and she's got moo sense than guls + twice as old. Takes hold like—lightnin'.” + </p> + <p> + “About how old did you say she was?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you've got me the'a, Mr. Landa; I guess I'll ask Mis' Atwell.” + </p> + <p> + “The'e's no hurry,” said Lander. “That buckboa'd be round pretty soon?” he + asked of the clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Be right along now, Mr. Lander,” said the clerk, soothingly. He stepped + out to the platform that the teams drove up to from the stable, and came + back to say that it was coming. “I believe you said you wanted something + you could drive yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn't, young man,” answered the elder sharply. But the next moment + he added, “Come to think of it, I guess it's just as well. You needn't get + me no driver. I guess I know the way well enough. You put me in a hitchin' + strap.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Mr. Lander,” said the clerk, meekly. + </p> + <p> + The landlord had caught the peremptory note in Lander's voice, and he came + out of his room again to see that there was nothing going wrong. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right,” said Lander, and went out and got into his buckboard. + </p> + <p> + “Same horse you had yesterday,” said the young clerk. “You don't need to + spare the whip.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I can look out for myself,” said Lander, and he shook the reins + and gave the horse a smart cut, as a hint of what he might expect. + </p> + <p> + The landlord joined the clerk in looking after the brisk start the horse + made. “Not the way he set off with the old lady, yesterday,” suggested the + clerk. + </p> + <p> + The landlord rolled his cigar round in his tubed lips. “I guess he's used + to ridin' after a good hoss.” He added gravely to the clerk, “You don't + want to make very free with that man, Mr. Pane. He won't stan' it, and + he's a class of custom that you want to cata to when it comes in your way. + I suspicioned what he was when they came here and took the highest cost + rooms without tu'nin' a haia. They're a class of custom that you won't get + outside the big hotels in the big reso'ts. Yes, sir,” said the landlord + taking a fresh start, “they're them kind of folks that live the whole yea' + round in hotels; no'th in summa, south in winta, and city hotels between + times. They want the best their money can buy, and they got plenty of it. + She”—he meant Mrs. Lander—“has been tellin' my wife how they + do; she likes to talk a little betta than he doos; and I guess when it + comes to society, they're away up, and they won't stun' any nonsense.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + Lander came into his wife's room between ten and eleven o'clock, and found + her still in bed, but with her half-finished breakfast on a tray before + her. As soon as he opened the door she said, “I do wish you would take + some of that heat-tonic of mine, Albe't, that the docta left for me in + Boston. You'll find it in the upper right bureau box, the'a; and I know + it'll be the very thing for you. It'll relieve you of that suffocatin' + feeling that I always have, comin' up stars. Dea'! I don't see why they + don't have an elevata; they make you pay enough; and I wish you'd get me a + little more silva, so's't I can give to the chambamaid and the bell-boy; I + do hate to be out of it. I guess you been up and out long ago. They did + make that polonaise of mine too tight after all I said, and I've been + thinkin' how I could get it alt'ed; but I presume there ain't a seamstress + to be had around he'e for love or money. Well, now, that's right, Albe't; + I'm glad to see you doin' it.” + </p> + <p> + Lander had opened the lid of the bureau box, and uncorked a bottle from + it, and tilted this to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Don't take too much,” she cautioned him, “or you'll lose the effects. + When I take too much of a medicine, it's wo'se than nothing, as fah's I + can make out. When I had that spell in Thomasville spring before last, I + believe I should have been over it twice as quick if I had taken just half + the medicine I did. You don't really feel anyways bad about the heat, do + you, Albe't?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm all right,” said Lander. He put back the bottle in its place and sat + down. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander lifted herself on her elbow and looked over at him. “Show me + on the bottle how much you took.” + </p> + <p> + He got the bottle out again and showed her with his thumb nail a point + which he chose at random. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that was just about the dose for you,” she said; and she sank down + in bed again with the air of having used a final precaution. “You don't + want to slow your heat up too quick.” + </p> + <p> + Lander did not put the bottle back this time. He kept it in his hand, with + his thumb on the cork, and rocked it back and forth on his knees as he + spoke. “Why don't you get that woman to alter it for you?” + </p> + <p> + “What woman alta what?” + </p> + <p> + “Your polonaise. The one whe'e we stopped yestaday.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Well, I've been thinkin' about that child, Albe't; I did before I + went to sleep; and I don't believe I want to risk anything with her. It + would be a ca'e,” said Mrs. Lander with a sigh, “and I guess I don't want + to take any moa ca'e than what I've got now. What makes you think she + could alta my polonaise?” + </p> + <p> + “Said she done dress-makin',” said Lander, doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “You ha'n't been the'a?” + </p> + <p> + He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You didn't say anything to her about her daughta?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did,” said Lander. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you ce'tainly do equal anything,” said his wife. She lay still + awhile, and then she roused herself with indignant energy. “Well, then, I + can tell you what, Albe't Landa: you can go right straight and take back + everything you said. I don't want the child, and I won't have her. I've + got care enough to worry me now, I should think; and we should have her + whole family on our hands, with that shiftless father of hers, and the + whole pack of her brothas and sistas. What made you think I wanted you to + do such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + “You wanted me to do it last night. Wouldn't ha'dly let me go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! And how many times have I told you nova to go off and do a thing + that I wanted you to, unless you asked me if I did? Must I die befo'e you + can find out that there is such a thing as talkin', and such anotha thing + as doin'? You wouldn't get yourself into half as many scrapes if you + talked more and done less, in this wo'ld.” Lander rose. + </p> + <p> + “Wait! Hold on! What are you going to say to the pooa thing? She'll be so + disappointed!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know as I shall need to say anything myself,” answered the little + man, at his dryest. “Leave that to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can tell you,” returned his wife, “I'm not goin' nea' them again; + and if you think—What did you ask the woman, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “I asked her,” he said, “if she wanted to let the gul come and see you + about some sewing you had to have done, and she said she did.” + </p> + <p> + “And you didn't speak about havin' her come to live with us?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, why in the land didn't you say so before, Albe't?” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't ask me. What do you want I should say to her now?” + </p> + <p> + “Say to who?” + </p> + <p> + “The gul. She's down in the pahlor, waitin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, of all the men!” cried Mrs. Lander. But she seemed to find herself, + upon reflection, less able to cope with Lander personally than with the + situation generally. “Will you send her up, Albe't?” she asked, very + patiently, as if he might be driven to further excesses, if not delicately + handled. As soon as he had gone out of the room she wished that she had + told him to give her time to dress and have her room put in order, before + he sent the child up; but she could only make the best of herself in bed + with a cap and a breakfast jacket, arranged with the help of a handglass. + She had to get out of bed to put her other clothes away in the closet and + she seized the chance to push the breakfast tray out of the door, and + smooth up the bed, while she composed her features and her ideas to + receive her visitor. Both, from long habit rather than from any cause or + reason, were of a querulous cast, and her ordinary tone was a snuffle + expressive of deep-seated affliction. She was at once plaintive and + voluable, and in moments of excitement her need of freeing her mind was so + great that she took herself into her own confidence, and found a more + sympathetic listener than when she talked to her husband. As she now + whisked about her room in her bed-gown with an activity not predicable of + her age and shape, and finally plunged under the covering and drew it up + to her chin with one hand while she pressed it out decorously over her + person with the other, she kept up a rapid flow of lamentation and + conjecture. “I do suppose he'll be right back with her before I'm half + ready; and what the man was thinkin' of to do such a thing anyway, I don't + know. I don't know as she'll notice much, comin' out of such a lookin' + place as that, and I don't know as I need to care if she did. But if + the'e's care anywhe's around, I presume I'm the one to have it. I presume + I did take a fancy to her, and I guess I shall be glad to see how I like + her now; and if he's only told her I want some sewin' done, I can scrape + up something to let her carry home with her. It's well I keep my things + where I can put my hand on 'em at a time like this, and I don't believe I + shall sca'e the child, as it is. I do hope Albe't won't hang round half + the day before he brings her; I like to have a thing ova.” + </p> + <p> + Lander wandered about looking for the girl through the parlors and the + piazzas, and then went to the office to ask what had become of her. + </p> + <p> + The landlord came out of his room at his question to the clerk. “Oh, I + guess she's round in my wife's room, Mr. Landa. She always likes to see + Clementina, and I guess they all do. She's a so't o' pet amongst 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “No hurry,” said Lander, “I guess my wife ain't quite ready for her yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she'll be right out, in a minute or so,” said the landlord. + </p> + <p> + The old man tilted his hat forward over his eyes, and went to sit on the + veranda and look at the landscape while he waited. It was one of the + loveliest landscapes in the mountains; the river flowed at the foot of an + abrupt slope from the road before the hotel, stealing into and out of the + valley, and the mountains, gray in the farther distance, were draped with + folds of cloud hanging upon their flanks and tops. But Lander was tired of + nearly all kinds of views and prospects, though he put' up with them, in + his perpetual movement from place to place, in the same resignation that + he suffered the limitations of comfort in parlor cars and sleepers, and + the unwholesomeness of hotel tables. He was chained to the restless + pursuit of an ideal not his own, but doomed to suffer for its + impossibility as if he contrived each of his wife's disappointments from + it. He did not philosophize his situation, but accepted it as in an order + of Providence which it would be useless for him to oppose; though there + were moments when he permitted himself to feel a modest doubt of its + justice. He was aware that when he had a house of his own he was master in + it, after a fashion, and that as long as he was in business he was in some + sort of authority. He perceived that now he was a slave to the wishes of a + mistress who did not know what she wanted, and that he was never farther + from pleasing her than when he tried to do what she asked. He could not + have told how all initiative had been taken from him, and he had fallen + into the mere follower of a woman guided only by her whims, who had no + object in life except to deprive it of all object. He felt no rancor + toward her for this; he knew that she had a tender regard for him, and + that she believed she was considering him first in her most selfish + arrangements. He always hoped that sometime she would get tired of her + restlessness, and be willing to settle down again in some stated place; + and wherever it was, he meant to get into some kind of business again. + Till this should happen he waited with an apathetic patience of which his + present abeyance was a detail. He would hardly have thought it anything + unfit, and certainly nothing surprising, that the landlady should have + taken the young girl away from where he had left her, and then in the + pleasure of talking with her, and finding her a centre of interest for the + whole domestic force of the hotel, should have forgotten to bring her + back. + </p> + <p> + The Middlemount House had just been organized on the scale of a first + class hotel, with prices that had risen a little in anticipation of the + other improvements. The landlord had hitherto united in himself the + functions of clerk and head waiter, but he had now got a senior, who was + working his way through college, to take charge of the dining-room, and + had put in the office a youth of a year's experience as under clerk at a + city hotel. But he meant to relinquish no more authority than his wife who + frankly kept the name as well as duty of house-keeper. It was in making + her morning inspection of the dusting that she found Clementina in the + parlor where Lander had told her to sit down till he should come for her. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Clem!” she said, “I didn't know you! You have grown so! Youa folks + all well? I decla'e you ah' quite a woman now,” she added, as the girl + stood up in her slender, graceful height. “You look as pretty as a pink in + that hat. Make that dress youaself? Well, you do beat the witch! I want + you should come to my room with me.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Atwell showered other questions and exclamations on the girl, who + explained how she happened to be there, and said that she supposed she + must stay where she was for fear Mr. Lander should come back and find her + gone; but Mrs. Atwell overruled her with the fact that Mrs. Lander's + breakfast had just gone up to her; and she made her come out and see the + new features of the enlarged house-keeping. In the dining-room there were + some of the waitresses who had been there the summer before, and + recognitions of more or less dignity passed between them and Clementina. + The place was now shut against guests, and the head-waiter was having it + put in order for the one o'clock dinner. As they came near him, Mrs. + Atwell introduced him to Clementina, and he behaved deferentially, as if + she were some young lady visitor whom Mrs. Atwell was showing the + improvements, but he seemed harassed and impatient, as if he were anxious + about his duties, and eager to get at them again. He was a handsome little + fellow, with hair lighter than Clementina's and a sanguine complexion, and + the color coming and going. + </p> + <p> + “He's smaht,” said Mrs. Atwell, when they had left him—he held the + dining-room door open for them, and bowed them out. “I don't know but he + worries almost too much. That'll wear off when he gets things runnin' to + suit him. He's pretty p'tic'la'. Now I'll show you how they've made the + office over, and built in a room for Mr. Atwell behind it.” + </p> + <p> + The landlord welcomed Clementina as if she had been some acceptable class + of custom, and when the tall young clerk came in to ask him something, and + Mrs. Atwell said, “I want to introduce you to Miss Claxon, Mr. Fane,” the + clerk smiled down upon her from the height of his smooth, acquiline young + face, which he held bent encouragingly upon one side. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I want you should come in and see where I live, a minute,” said Mrs. + Atwell. She took the girl from the clerk, and led her to the official + housekeeper's room which she said had been prepared for her so that folks + need not keep running to her in her private room where she wanted to be + alone with her children, when she was there. “Why, you a'n't much moa than + a child youaself, Clem, and here I be talkin' to you as if you was a + mother in Israel. How old ah' you, this summa? Time does go so!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sixteen now,” said Clementina, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “You be? Well, I don't see why I say that, eitha! You're full lahge enough + for your age, but not seein' you in long dresses before, I didn't realize + your age so much. My, but you do all of you know how to do things!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm about the only one that don't, Mrs. Atwell,” said the girl. “If it + hadn't been for mother, I don't believe I could have eva finished this + dress.” She began to laugh at something passing in her mind, and Mrs. + Atwell laughed too, in sympathy, though she did not know what at till + Clementina said, “Why, Mrs. Atwell, nea'ly the whole family wo'ked on this + dress. Jim drew the patte'n of it from the dress of one of the summa + boa'das that he took a fancy to at the Centa, and fatha cut it out, and I + helped motha make it. I guess every one of the children helped a little.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's just as I said, you can all of you do things,” said Mrs. + Atwell. “But I guess you ah' the one that keeps 'em straight. What did you + say Mr. Landa said his wife wanted of you?” + </p> + <p> + “He said some kind of sewing that motha could do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll tell you what! Now, if she ha'n't really got anything that + your motha'll want you to help with, I wish you'd come here again and help + me. I tuned my foot, here, two-three weeks back, and I feel it, times, and + I should like some one to do about half my steppin' for me. I don't want + to take you away from her, but IF. You sha'n't go int' the dinin'room, or + be under anybody's oddas but mine. Now, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll see, Mrs. Atwell. I don't like to say anything till I know what Mrs. + Landa wants.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's right. I decla'e, you've got moa judgment! That's what I + used to say about you last summa to my husband: she's got judgment. Well, + what's wanted?” Mrs. Atwell spoke to her husband, who had opened her door + and looked in, and she stopped rocking, while she waited his answer. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you don't want to keep Clementina from Mr. Landa much longa. He's + settin' out there on the front piazza waitin' for her.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the'a!” cried Mrs. Atwell. “Ain't that just like me? Why didn't you + tell me sooner, Alonzo? Don't you forgit what I said, Clem!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + Mrs. Lander had taken twice of a specific for what she called her + nerve-fag before her husband came with Clementina, and had rehearsed aloud + many of the things she meant to say to the girl. In spite of her + preparation, they were all driven out of her head when Clementina actually + appeared, and gave her a bow like a young birch's obeisance in the wind. + </p> + <p> + “Take a chaia,” said Lander, pushing her one, and the girl tilted over + toward him, before she sank into it. He went out of the room, and left + Mrs. Lander to deal with the problem alone. She apologized for being in + bed, but Clementina said so sweetly, “Mr. Landa told me you were not + feeling very well, 'm,” that she began to be proud of her ailments, and + bragged of them at length, and of the different doctors who had treated + her for them. While she talked she missed one thing or another, and + Clementina seemed to divine what it was she wanted, and got it for her, + with a gentle deference which made the elder feel her age cushioned by the + girl's youth. When she grew a little heated from the interest she took in + her personal annals, and cast off one of the folds of her bed clothing, + Clementina got her a fan, and asked her if she should put up one of the + windows a little. + </p> + <p> + “How you do think of things!” said Mrs. Lander. “I guess I will let you. I + presume you get used to thinkin' of othas in a lahge family like youas. I + don't suppose they could get along without you very well,” she suggested. + </p> + <p> + “I've neva been away except last summa, for a little while.” + </p> + <p> + “And where was you then?” + </p> + <p> + “I was helping Mrs. Atwell.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you like it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Clementina. “It's pleasant to be whe'e things ah' + going on.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—for young folks,” said Mrs. Lander, whom the going on of things + had long ceased to bring pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “It's real nice at home, too,” said Clementina. “We have very good times—evenings + in the winta; in the summer it's very nice in the woods, around there. + It's safe for the children, and they enjoy it, and fatha likes to have + them. Motha don't ca'e so much about it. I guess she'd ratha have the + house fixed up more, and the place. Fatha's going to do it pretty soon. He + thinks the'e's time enough.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the way with men,” said Mrs. Lander. “They always think the's time + enough; but I like to have things over and done with. What chuhch do you + 'tend?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, there isn't any but the Episcopal,” Clementina answered. “I go to + that, and some of the children go to the Sunday School. I don't believe + fatha ca'es very much for going to chuhch, but he likes Mr. Richling; he's + the recta. They take walks in the woods; and they go up the mountains + togetha.” + </p> + <p> + “They want,” said Mrs. Lander, severely, “to be ca'eful how they drink of + them cold brooks when they're heated. Mr. Richling a married man?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes'm! But they haven't got any family.” + </p> + <p> + “If I could see his wife, I sh'd caution her about lettin' him climb + mountains too much. A'n't your father afraid he'll ovado?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. He thinks he can't be too much in the open air on the + mountains.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he may not have the same complaint as Mr. Landa; but I know if I + was to climb a mountain,' it would lay me up for a yea'.” + </p> + <p> + The girl did not urge anything against this conviction. She smiled + politely and waited patiently for the next turn Mrs. Lander's talk should + take, which was oddly enough toward the business Clementina had come upon. + </p> + <p> + “I declare I most forgot about my polonaise. Mr. Landa said your motha + thought she could do something to it for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I may as well let you see it. If you'll reach into that fuhthest + closet, you'll find it on the last uppa hook on the right hand, and if + you'll give it to me, I'll show you what I want done. Don't mind the looks + of that closet; I've just tossed my things in, till I could get a little + time and stren'th to put 'em in odda.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina brought the polonaise to Mrs. Lander, who sat up and spread it + before her on the bed, and had a happy half hour in telling the girl where + she had bought the material and where she had it made up, and how it came + home just as she was going away, and she did not find out that it was all + wrong till a week afterwards when she tried it on. By the end of this time + the girl had commended herself so much by judicious and sympathetic + assent, that Mrs. Lander learned with a shock of disappointment that her + mother expected her to bring the garment home with her, where Mrs. Lander + was to come and have it fitted over for the alterations she wanted made. + </p> + <p> + “But I supposed, from what Mr. Landa said, that your motha would come here + and fit me!” she lamented. + </p> + <p> + “I guess he didn't undastand, 'm. Motha doesn't eva go out to do wo'k,” + said Clementina gently but firmly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I might have known Mr. Landa would mix it up, if it could be + mixed;” Mrs. Lander's sense of injury was aggravated by her suspicion that + he had brought the girl in the hope of pleasing her, and confirming her in + the wish to have her with them; she was not a woman who liked to have her + way in spite of herself; she wished at every step to realize that she was + taking it, and that no one else was taking it for her. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said dryly, “I shall have to see about it. I'm a good deal of + an invalid, and I don't know as I could go back and fo'th to try on. I'm + moa used to havin' the things brought to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm,” said Clementina. She moved a little from the bed, on her way to + the door, to be ready for Mrs. Lander in leave-taking. + </p> + <p> + “I'm real sorry,” said Mrs. Lander. “I presume it's a disappointment for + you, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not at all,” answered Clementina. “I'm sorry we can't do the wo'k + he'a; but I know mocha wouldn't like to. Good-mo'ning, 'm!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! Don't go yet a minute! Won't you just give me my hand bag off the + bureau the'a?” Mrs. Lander entreated, and when the girl gave her the bag + she felt about among the bank-notes which she seemed to have loose in it, + and drew out a handful of them without regard to their value. “He'a!” she + said, and she tried to put the notes into Clementina's hand, “I want you + should get yourself something.” + </p> + <p> + The girl shrank back. “Oh, no'm,” she said, with an effect of seeming to + know that her refusal would hurt, and with the wish to soften it. “I—couldn't; + indeed I couldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Why couldn't you? Now you must! If I can't let you have the wo'k the way + you want, I don't think it's fair, and you ought to have the money for it + just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina shook her head smiling. “I don't believe motha would like to + have me take it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, now, pshaw!” said Mrs. Lander, inadequately. “I want you should take + this for youaself; and if you don't want to buy anything to wea', you can + get something to fix your room up with. Don't you be afraid of robbin' us. + Land! We got moa money! Now you take this.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander reached the money as far toward Clementina as she could and + shook it in the vehemence of her desire. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, I couldn't take it,” Clementina persisted. “I'm afraid I must + be going; I guess I must bid you good-mo'ning.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I believe the child's sca'ed of me! But you needn't be. Don't you + suppose I know how you feel? You set down in that chai'a there, and I'll + tell you how you feel. I guess we've been pooa, too—I don't mean + anything that a'n't exactly right—and I guess I've had the same + feelin's. You think it's demeanin' to you to take it. A'n't that it?” + Clementina sank provisionally upon the edge of the chair. “Well, it did + use to be so consid'ed. But it's all changed, nowadays. We travel pretty + nee' the whole while, Mr. Lander and me, and we see folks everywhere, and + it a'n't the custom to refuse any moa. Now, a'n't there any little thing + for your own room, there in your nice new house? Or something your motha's + got her heat set on? Or one of your brothas? My, if you don't have it, + some one else will! Do take it!” + </p> + <p> + The girl kept slipping toward the door. “I shouldn't know what to tell + them, when I got home. They would think I must be—out of my senses.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you mean they'd think I was. Now, listen to me a minute!” Mrs. + Lander persisted. + </p> + <p> + “You just take this money, and when you get home, you tell your mother + every word about it, and if she says, you bring it right straight back to + me. Now, can't you do that?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know but I can,” Clementina faltered. “Well, then take it!” Mrs. + Lander put the bills into her hand but she did not release her at once. + She pulled Clementina down and herself up till she could lay her other arm + on her neck. “I want you should let me kiss you. Will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, certainly,” said Clementina, and she kissed the old woman. + </p> + <p> + “You tell your mother I'm comin' to see her before I go; and I guess,” + said Mrs. Lander in instant expression of the idea that came into her + mind, “we shall be goin' pretty soon, now.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm,” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + She went out, and shortly after Lander came in with a sort of hopeful + apathy in his face. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander turned her head on her pillow, and so confronted him. “Albe't, + what made you want me to see that child?” + </p> + <p> + Lander must have perceived that his wife meant business, and he came to it + at once. “I thought you might take a fancy to her, and get her to come and + live with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” + </p> + <p> + “We're both of us gettin' pretty well on, and you'd ought to have somebody + to look after you if—I'm not around. You want somebody that can do + for you; and keep you company, and read to you, and talk to you—well, + moa like a daughta than a suvvant—somebody that you'd get attached + to, maybe—” + </p> + <p> + “And don't you see,” Mrs. Lander broke out severely upon him, “what a ca'e + that would be? Why, it's got so already that I can't help thinkin' about + her the whole while, and if I got attached to her I'd have her on my mind + day and night, and the moa she done for me the more I should be tewin' + around to do for her. I shouldn't have any peace of my life any moa. Can't + you see that?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess if you see it, I don't need to,” said Lander. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I want you shouldn't eva mention her to me again. I've had + the greatest escape! But I've got her off home, and I've give her money + enough! had a time with her about it—so that they won't feel as if + we'd made 'em trouble for nothing, and now I neva want to hear of her + again. I don't want we should stay here a great while longer; I shall be + frettin' if I'm in reach of her, and I shan't get any good of the ai'a. + Will you promise?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then!” Mrs. Lander turned her face upon the pillow again in the + dramatization of her exhaustion; but she was not so far gone that she was + insensible to the possible interest that a light rap at the door + suggested. She once more twisted her head in that direction and called, + “Come in!” + </p> + <p> + The door opened and Clementina came in. She advanced to the bedside + smiling joyously, and put the money Mrs. Lander had given her down upon + the counterpane. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you haven't been home, child?” + </p> + <p> + “No'm,” said Clementina, breathlessly. “But I couldn't take it. I knew + they wouldn't want me to, and I thought you'd like it better if I just + brought it back myself. Good-mo'ning.” She slipped out of the door. Mrs. + Lander swept the bank-notes from the coverlet and pulled it over her head, + and sent from beneath it a stifled wail. “Now we got to go! And it's all + youa fault, Albe't.” + </p> + <p> + Lander took the money from the floor, and smoothed each bill out, and then + laid them in a neat pile on the corner of the bureau. He sighed profoundly + but left the room without an effort to justify himself. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + The Landers had been gone a week before Clementina's mother decided that + she could spare her to Mrs. Atwell for a while. It was established that + she was not to serve either in the dining-room or the carving room; she + was not to wash dishes or to do any part of the chamber work, but to carry + messages and orders for the landlady, and to save her steps, when she + wished to see the head-waiter, or the head-cook; or to make an excuse or a + promise to some of the lady-boarders; or to send word to Mr. Atwell about + the buying, or to communicate with the clerk about rooms taken or left. + </p> + <p> + She had a good deal of dignity of her own and such a gravity in the + discharge of her duties that the chef, who was a middle-aged Yankee with + grown girls of his own, liked to pretend that it was Mrs. Atwell herself + who was talking with him, and to discover just as she left him that it was + Clementina. He called her the Boss when he spoke of her to others in her + hearing, and he addressed her as Boss when he feigned to find that it was + not Mrs. Atwell. She did not mind that in him, and let the chef have his + joke as if it were not one. But one day when the clerk called her Boss she + merely looked at him without speaking, and made him feel that he had taken + a liberty which he must not repeat. He was a young man who much preferred + a state of self-satisfaction to humiliation of any sort, and after he had + endured Clementina's gaze as long as he could, he said, “Perhaps you don't + allow anybody but the chef to call you that?” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer, but repeated the message Mrs. Atwell had given her for + him, and went away. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to him undue that a person who exchanged repartees with the + young lady boarders across his desk, when they came many times a day to + look at the register, or to ask for letters, should remain snubbed by a + girl who still wore her hair in a braid; but he was an amiable youth, and + he tried to appease her by little favors and services, instead of trying + to bully her. + </p> + <p> + He was great friends with the head-waiter, whom he respected as a college + student, though for the time being he ranked the student socially. He had + him in behind the frame of letter-boxes, which formed a sort of little + private room for him, and talked with him at such hours of the forenoon + and the late evening as the student was off duty. He found comfort in the + student's fretful strength, which expressed itself in the pugnacious frown + of his hot-looking young face, where a bright sorrel mustache was + beginning to blaze on a short upper lip. + </p> + <p> + Fane thought himself a good-looking fellow, and he regarded his figure + with pleasure, as it was set off by the suit of fine gray check that he + wore habitually; but he thought Gregory's educational advantages told in + his face. His own education had ended at a commercial college, where he + acquired a good knowledge of bookkeeping, and the fine business hand he + wrote, but where it seemed to him sometimes that the earlier learning of + the public school had been hermetically sealed within him by several coats + of mathematical varnish. He believed that he had once known a number of + things that he no longer knew, and that he had not always been so weak in + his double letters as he presently found himself. + </p> + <p> + One night while Gregory sat on a high stool and rested his elbow on the + desk before it, with his chin in his hand, looking down upon Fane, who + sprawled sadly in his chair, and listening to the last dance playing in + the distant parlor, Fane said. “Now, what'll you bet that they won't every + one of 'em come and look for a letter in her box before she goes to bed? I + tell you, girls are queer, and there's no place like a hotel to study + 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to study them,” said Gregory, harshly. + </p> + <p> + “Think Greek's more worth your while, or know 'em well enough already?” + Fane suggested. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't know them at all,” said the student. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe,” urged the clerk, as if it were relevant, “that there's + a girl in the house that you couldn't marry, if you gave your mind to it.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory twitched irascibly. “I don't want to marry them.” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty cheap lot, you mean? Well, I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean that,” retorted the student. “But I've got other things to + think of.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you believe,” the clerk modestly urged, “that it is natural for a + man—well, a young man—to think about girls?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don't consider it wrong?” + </p> + <p> + “How, wrong?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, a waste of time. I don't know as I always think about wanting to + marry 'em, or be in love, but I like to let my mind run on 'em. There's + something about a girl that, well, you don't know what it is, exactly. + Take almost any of 'em,” said the clerk, with an air of inductive + reasoning. “Take that Claxon girl, now for example, I don't know what it + is about her. She's good-looking, I don't deny that; and she's got pretty + manners, and she's as graceful as a bird. But it a'n't any one of 'em, and + it don't seem to be all of 'em put together that makes you want to keep + your eyes on her the whole while. Ever noticed what a nice little foot + she's got? Or her hands?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the student. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean that she ever tries to show them off; though I know some + girls that would. But she's not that kind. She ain't much more than a + child, and yet you got to treat her just like a woman. Noticed the kind of + way she's got?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the student, with impatience. + </p> + <p> + The clerk mused with a plaintive air for a moment before he spoke. “Well, + it's something as if she'd been trained to it, so that she knew just the + right thing to do, every time, and yet I guess it's nature. You know how + the chef always calls her the Boss? That explains it about as well as + anything, and I presume that's what my mind was running on, the other day, + when I called her Boss. But, my! I can't get anywhere near her since!” + </p> + <p> + “It serves you right,” said Gregory. “You had no business to tease her.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, do you think it was teasing? I did, at first, and then again it + seemed to me that I came out with the word because it seemed the right + one. I presume I couldn't explain that to her.” + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn't be easy.” + </p> + <p> + “I look upon her,” said Fane, with an effect of argument in the sweetness + of his smile, “just as I would upon any other young lady in the house. Do + you spell apology with one p or two?” + </p> + <p> + “One,” said the student, and the clerk made a minute on a piece of paper. + </p> + <p> + “I feel badly for the girl. I don't want her to think I was teasing her or + taking any sort of liberty with her. Now, would you apologize to her, if + you was in my place, and would you write a note, or just wait your chance + and speak to her?” + </p> + <p> + Gregory got down from his stool with a disdainful laugh, and went out of + the place. “You make me sick, Fane,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The last dance was over, and the young ladies who had been waltzing with + one another, came out of the parlor with gay cries and laughter, like + summer girls who had been at a brilliant hop, and began to stray down the + piazzas, and storm into the office. Several of them fluttered up to the + desk, as the clerk had foretold, and looked for letters in the boxes + bearing their initials. They called him out, and asked if he had not + forgotten something for them. He denied it with a sad, wise smile, and + then they tried to provoke him to a belated flirtation, in lack of other + material, but he met their overtures discreetly, and they presently said, + Well, they guessed they must go; and went. Fane turned to encounter + Gregory, who had come in by a side door. + </p> + <p> + “Fane, I want to beg your pardon. I was rude to you just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! Oh, no!” the clerk protested. “That's all right. Sit down a + while, can't you, and talk with a fellow. It's early, yet.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I can't. I just wanted to say I was sorry I spoke in that way. + Good-night. Is there anything in particular?” + </p> + <p> + “No; good-night. I was just wondering about—that girl.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. + </h2> + <p> + Gregory had an habitual severity with his own behavior which did not stop + there, but was always passing on to the behavior of others; and his days + went by in alternate offence and reparation to those he had to do with. He + had to do chiefly with the dining-room girls, whose susceptibilities were + such that they kept about their work bathed in tears or suffused with + anger much of the time. He was not only good-looking but he was a college + student, and their feelings were ready to bud toward him in tender + efflorescence, but he kept them cropped and blighted by his curt words and + impatient manner. Some of them loved him for the hurts he did them, and + some hated him, but all agreed fondly or furiously that he was too cross + for anything. They were mostly young school-mistresses, and whether they + were of a soft and amorous make, or of a forbidding temper, they knew + enough in spite of their hurts to value a young fellow whose thoughts were + not running upon girls all the time. Women, even in their spring-time, + like men to treat them as if they had souls as well as hearts, and it was + a saving grace in Gregory that he treated them all, the silliest of them, + as if they had souls. Very likely they responded more with their hearts + than with their souls, but they were aware that this was not his fault. + </p> + <p> + The girls that waited at table saw that he did not distinguish in manner + between them and the girls whom they served. The knot between his brows + did not dissolve in the smiling gratitude of the young ladies whom he + preceded to their places, and pulled out their chairs for, any more than + in the blandishments of a waitress who thanked him for some correction. + </p> + <p> + They owned when he had been harshest that no one could be kinder if he saw + a girl really trying, or more patient with well meaning stupidity, but + some things fretted him, and he was as apt to correct a girl in her + grammar as in her table service. Out of work hours, if he met any of them, + he recognized them with deferential politeness; but he shunned occasions + of encounter with them as distinctly as he avoided the ladies among the + hotel guests. Some of the table girls pitied his loneliness, and once they + proposed that he should read to them on the back piazza in the leisure of + their mid-afternoons. He said that he had to keep up with his studies in + all the time he could get; he treated their request with grave civility, + but they felt his refusal to be final. + </p> + <p> + He was seen very little about the house outside of his own place and + function, and he was scarcely known to consort with anyone but Fane, who + celebrated his high sense of the honor to the lady-guests; but if any of + these would have been willing to show Gregory that they considered his + work to get an education as something that redeemed itself from discredit + through the nobility of its object, he gave them no chance to do so. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon following their talk about Clementina, Gregory looked in for + Fane behind the letter boxes, but did not find him, and the girl herself + came round from the front to say that he was out buying, but would be back + now, very soon; it was occasionally the clerk's business to forage among + the farmers for the lighter supplies, such as eggs, and butter, and + poultry, and this was the buying that Clementina meant. “Very well, I'll + wait here for him a little while,” Gregory answered. + </p> + <p> + “So do,” said Clementina, in a formula which she thought polite; but she + saw the frown with which Gregory took a Greek book from his pocket, and + she hurried round in front of the boxes again, wondering how she could + have displeased him. She put her face in sight a moment to explain, “I + have got to be here and give out the lettas till Mr. Fane gets back,” and + then withdrew it. He tried to lose himself in his book, but her tender + voice spoke from time to time beyond the boxes, and Gregory kept listening + for Clementina to say, “No'm, there a'n't. Perhaps, the'e'll be something + the next mail,” and “Yes'm, he'e's one, and I guess this paper is for some + of youa folks, too.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory shut his book with a sudden bang at last and jumped to his feet, + to go away. + </p> + <p> + The girl came running round the corner of the boxes. “Oh! I thought + something had happened.” + </p> + <p> + “No, nothing has happened,” said Gregory, with a sort of violence; which + was heightened by a sense of the rings and tendrils of loose hair + springing from the mass that defined her pretty head. “Don't you know that + you oughtn't to say 'No'm' and 'Yes'm?”' he demanded, bitterly, and then + he expected to see the water come into her eyes, or the fire into her + cheeks. + </p> + <p> + Clementina merely looked interested. “Did I say that? I meant to say Yes, + ma'am and No, ma'am; but I keep forgetting.” + </p> + <p> + “You oughtn't to say anything!” Gregory answered savagely, “Just say Yes, + and No, and let your voice do the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said the girl, with the gentlest abeyance, as if charmed with the + novelty of the idea. “I should be afraid it wasn't polite.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory took an even brutal tone. It seemed to him as if he were forced to + hurt her feelings. But his words, in spite of his tone, were not brutal; + they might have even been thought flattering. “The politeness is in the + manner, and you don't need anything but your manner.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so, truly?” asked the girl joyously. “I should like to try + it once!” + </p> + <p> + He frowned again. “I've no business to criticise your way of speaking.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes'm—yes, ma'am; sir, I mean; I mean, Oh, yes, indeed! The'a! + It does sound just as well, don't it?” Clementina laughed in triumph at + the outcome of her efforts, so that a reluctant visional smile came upon + Gregory's face, too. “I'm very mach obliged to you, Mr. Gregory—I + shall always want to do it, if it's the right way.” + </p> + <p> + “It's the right way,” said Gregory coldly. + </p> + <p> + “And don't they,” she urged, “don't they really say Sir and Ma'am, whe'e—whe'e + you came from?” + </p> + <p> + He said gloomily, “Not ladies and gentlemen. Servants do. Waiters—like + me.” He inflicted this stab to his pride with savage fortitude and he bore + with self-scorn the pursuit of her innocent curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “But I thought—I thought you was a college student.” + </p> + <p> + “Were,” Gregory corrected her, involuntarily, and she said, “Were, I + mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm a student at college, and here I'm a servant! It's all right!” he + said with a suppressed gritting of the teeth; and he added, “My Master was + the servant of the meanest, and I must—I beg your pardon for + meddling with your manner of speaking—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm very much obliged to you; indeed I am. And I shall not care if + you tell me of anything that's out of the way in my talking,” said + Clementina, generously. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you; I think I won't wait any longer for Mr. Fane.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'm su'a he'll be back very soon, now. I'll try not to disturb you + any moa.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory turned from taking some steps towards the door, and said, “I wish + you would tell Mr. Fane something.” + </p> + <p> + “For you? Why, suttainly!” + </p> + <p> + “No. For you. Tell him that it's all right about his calling you Boss.” + </p> + <p> + The indignant color came into Clementina's face. “He had no business to + call me that.” + </p> + <p> + “No; and he doesn't think he had, now. He's truly sorry for it.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll see,” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + She had not seen by the time Fane got back. She received his apologies for + being gone so long coldly, and went away to Mrs. Atwell, whom she told + what had passed between Gregory and herself. + </p> + <p> + “Is he truly so proud?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “He's a very good young man,” said Mrs. Atwell, “but I guess he's proud. + He can't help it, but you can see he fights against it. If I was you, + Clem, I wouldn't say anything to the guls about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no'm—I mean, no, indeed. I shouldn't think of it. But don't you + think that was funny, his bringing in Christ, that way?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he's going to be a minister, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he really?” Clementina was a while silent. At last she said, “Don't + you think Mr. Gregory has a good many freckles?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, them red-complected kind is liable to freckle,” said Mrs. Atwell, + judicially. + </p> + <p> + After rather a long pause for both of them, Clementina asked, “Do you + think it would be nice for me to ask Mr. Gregory about things, when I + wasn't suttain?” + </p> + <p> + “Like what?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh-wo'ds, and pronunciation; and books to read.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I presume he'd love to have you. He's always correctin' the guls; I + see him take up a book one day, that one of 'em was readin', and when she + as't him about it, he said it was rubbage. I guess you couldn't have a + betta guide.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that was what I was thinking. I guess I sha'n't do it, though. I + sh'd neva have the courage.” Clementina laughed and then fell rather + seriously silent again. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. + </h2> + <p> + One day the shoeman stopped his wagon at the door of the helps' house, and + called up at its windows, “Well, guls, any of you want to git a numba foua + foot into a numba two shoe, to-day? Now's youa chance, but you got to be + quick abort it. The'e ha'r't but just so many numba two shoes made, and + the wohld's full o' numba foua feet.” + </p> + <p> + The windows filled with laughing faces at the first sound of the shoeman's + ironical voice; and at sight of his neat wagon, with its drawers at the + rear and sides, and its buggy-hood over the seat where the shoeman lounged + lazily holding the reins, the girls flocked down the stairs, and out upon + the piazza where the shoe man had handily ranged his vehicle. + </p> + <p> + They began to ask him if he had not this thing and that, but he said with + firmness, “Nothin' but shoes, guls. I did carry a gen'l line, one while, + of what you may call ankle-wea', such as spats, and stockin's, and gaitas, + but I nova did like to speak of such things befoa ladies, and now I stick + ex-elusively to shoes. You know that well enough, guls; what's the use?” + </p> + <p> + He kept a sober face amidst the giggling that his words aroused,—and + let his voice sink into a final note of injury. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you don't want any shoes, to-day, I guess I must be goin'.” He + made a feint of jerking his horse's reins, but forebore at the entreaties + that went up from the group of girls. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we do!” “Let's see them!” “Oh, don't go!” they chorused in an + equally histrionic alarm, and the shoeman got down from his perch to show + his wares. + </p> + <p> + “Now, the'a, ladies,” he said, pulling out one of the drawers, and + dangling a pair of shoes from it by the string that joined their heels, + “the'e's a shoe that looks as good as any Sat'd'y-night shoe you eva see. + Looks as han'some as if it had a pasteboa'd sole and was split stock all + through, like the kind you buy for a dollar at the store, and kick out in + the fust walk you take with your fella—'r some other gul's fella, I + don't ca'e which. And yet that's an honest shoe, made of the best of + material all the way through, and in the best manna. Just look at that + shoe, ladies; ex-amine it; sha'n't cost you a cent, and I'll pay for youa + lost time myself, if any complaint is made.” He began to toss pairs of the + shoes into the crowd of girls, who caught them from each other before they + fell, with hysterical laughter, and ran away with them in-doors to try + them on. “This is a shoe that I'm intaducin',” the shoeman went on, “and + every pair is warranted—warranted numba two; don't make any otha + size, because we want to cata to a strictly numba two custom. If any lady + doos feel 'em a little mite too snug, I'm sorry for her, but I can't do + anything to help her in this shoe.” + </p> + <p> + “Too snug!” came a gay voice from in-doors. “Why my foot feels puffectly + lost in this one.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” the shoeman shouted back. “Call it a numba one shoe and then + see if you can't find that lost foot in it, some'eres. Or try a little + flour, and see if it won't feel more at home. I've hea'd of a shoe that + give that sensation of looseness by not goin' on at all.” + </p> + <p> + The girls exulted joyfully together at the defeat of their companion, but + the shoeman kept a grave face, while he searched out other sorts of shoes + and slippers, and offered them, or responded to some definite demand with + something as near like as he could hope to make serve. The tumult of talk + and laughter grew till the chef put his head out of the kitchen door, and + then came sauntering across the grass to the helps' piazza. At the same + time the clerk suffered himself to be lured from his post by the + excitement. He came and stood beside the chef, who listened to the + shoeman's flow of banter with a longing to take his chances with him. + </p> + <p> + “That's a nice hawss,” he said. “What'll you take for him?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, hello!” said the shoeman, with an eye that dwelt upon the chef's + official white cap and apron, “You talk English, don't you? Fust off, I + didn't know but it was one of them foreign dukes come ova he'a to marry + some oua poor millionai'es daughtas.” The girls cried out for joy, and the + chef bore their mirth stoically, but not without a personal relish of the + shoeman's up-and-comingness. “Want a hawss?” asked the shoeman with an air + of business. “What'll you give?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll give you thutty-seven dollas and a half,” said the chef. + </p> + <p> + “Sorry I can't take it. That hawss is sellin' at present for just one + hundred and fifty dollas.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the chef, “I'll raise you a dolla and a quahta. Say + thutty-eight and seventy-five.” + </p> + <p> + “W-ell now, you're gittin' up among the figgas where you're liable to own + a hawss. You just keep right on a raisin' me, while I sell these ladies + some shoes, and maybe you'll hit it yit, 'fo'e night.” + </p> + <p> + The girls were trying on shoes on every side now, and they had dispensed + with the formality of going in-doors for the purpose. More than one put + out her foot to the clerk for his opinion of the fit, and the shoeman was + mingling with the crowd, testing with his hand, advising from his + professional knowledge, suggesting, urging, and in some cases artfully + agreeing with the reluctance shown. + </p> + <p> + “This man,” said the chef, indicating Fane, “says you can tell moa lies to + the square inch than any man out o' Boston.” + </p> + <p> + “Doos he?” asked the shoeman, turning with a pair of high-heeled bronze + slippers in his hand from the wagon. “Well, now, if I stood as nea' to him + as you do, I believe I sh'd hit him.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, man, I can't dispute him!” said the chef, and as if he had now at + last scored a point, he threw back his head and laughed. When he brought + down his head again, it was to perceive the approach of Clementina. + “Hello,” he said for her to hear, “he'e comes the Boss. Well, I guess I + must be goin',” he added, in mock anxiety. “I'm a goin', Boss, I'm a + goin'.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina ignored him. “Mr. Atwell wants to see you a moment, Mr. Fane,” + she said to the clerk. + </p> + <p> + “All right, Miss Claxon,” Fane answered, with the sorrowful respect which + he always showed Clementina, now, “I'll be right there.” But he waited a + moment, either in expression of his personal independence, or from + curiosity to know what the shoeman was going to say of the bronze + slippers. + </p> + <p> + Clementina felt the fascination, too; she thought the slippers were + beautiful, and her foot thrilled with a mysterious prescience of its + fitness for them. + </p> + <p> + “Now, the'e, ladies, or as I may say guls, if you'll excuse it in one + that's moa like a fatha to you than anything else, in his feelings”—the + girls tittered, and some one shouted derisively—“It's true!”—“now + there is a shoe, or call it a slippa, that I've rutha hesitated about + showin' to you, because I know that you're all rutha serious-minded, I + don't ca'e how young ye be, or how good-lookin' ye be; and I don't presume + the'e's one among you that's eve' head o' dancin'.” In the mirthful + hooting and mocking that followed, the shoeman hedged gravely from the + extreme position he had taken. “What? Well, maybe you have among some the + summa folks, but we all know what summa folks ah', and I don't expect you + to patte'n by them. But what I will say is that if any young lady within + the sound of my voice,”—he looked round for the applause which did + not fail him in his parody of the pulpit style—“should get an + invitation to a dance next winta, and should feel it a wo'k of a charity + to the young man to go, she'll be sorry—on his account, rememba—that + she ha'n't got this pair o' slippas. + </p> + <p> + “The'a! They're a numba two, and they'll fit any lady here, I don't ca'e + how small a foot she's got. Don't all speak at once, sistas! Ample time + allowed for meals. That's a custom-made shoe, and if it hadn't b'en too + small for the lady they was oddid foh, you couldn't-'a' got 'em for less + than seven dollas; but now I'm throwin' on 'em away for three.” + </p> + <p> + A groan of dismay went up from the whole circle, and some who had pressed + forward for a sight of the slippers, shrank back again. + </p> + <p> + “Did I hea' just now,” asked the shoeman, with a soft insinuation in his + voice, and in the glance he suddenly turned upon Clementina, “a party + addressed as Boss?” Clementina flushed, but she did not cower; the chef + walked away with a laugh, and the shoeman pursued him with his voice. “Not + that I am goin' to folla the wicked example of a man who tries to make + spot of young ladies; but if the young lady addressed as Boss—” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Claxon,” said the clerk with ingratiating reverence. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Claxon—I Stan' corrected,” pursued the shoeman. “If Miss + Claxon will do me the fava just to try on this slippa, I sh'd be able to + tell at the next place I stopped just how it looked on a lady's foot. I + see you a'n't any of you disposed to buy 'em this aftanoon, 'and I a'n't + complainin'; you done pootty well by me, already, and I don't want to uhge + you; but I do want to carry away the picture, in my mind's eye—what + you may call a mental photograph—of this slipper on the kind of a + foot it was made for, so't I can praise it truthfully to my next customer. + What do you say, ma'am?” he addressed himself with profound respect to + Clementina. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do let him, Clem!” said one of the girls, and another pleaded, “Just + so he needn't tell a story to his next customa,” and that made the rest + laugh. + </p> + <p> + Clementina's heart was throbbing, and joyous lights were dancing in her + eyes. “I don't care if I do,” she said, and she stooped to unlace her + shoe, but one of the big girls threw herself on her knees at her feet to + prevent her. Clementina remembered too late that there was a hole in her + stocking and that her little toe came through it, but she now folded the + toe artfully down, and the big girl discovered the hole in time to abet + her attempt at concealment. She caught the slipper from the shoeman and + harried it on; she tied the ribbons across the instep, and then put on the + other. “Now put out youa foot, Clem! Fast dancin' position!” She leaned + back upon her own heels, and Clementina daintily lifted the edge of her + skirt a little, and peered over at her feet. The slippers might or might + not have been of an imperfect taste, in their imitation of the prevalent + fashion, but on Clementina's feet they had distinction. + </p> + <p> + “Them feet was made for them slippas,” said the shoeman devoutly. + </p> + <p> + The clerk was silent; he put his hand helplessly to his mouth, and then + dropped it at his side again. + </p> + <p> + Gregory came round the corner of the building from the dining-room, and + the big girl who was crouching before Clementina, and who boasted that she + was not afraid of the student, called saucily to him, “Come here, a + minute, Mr. Gregory,” and as he approached, she tilted aside, to let him + see Clementina's slippers. + </p> + <p> + Clementina beamed up at him with all her happiness in her eyes, but after + a faltering instant, his face reddened through its freckles, and he gave + her a rebuking frown and passed on. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I decla'e!” said the big girl. Fane turned uneasily, and said with + a sigh, he guessed he must be going, now. + </p> + <p> + A blight fell upon the gay spirits of the group, and the shoeman asked + with an ironical glance after Gregory's retreating figure, “Owna of this + propaty?” + </p> + <p> + “No, just the ea'th,” said the big girl, angrily. + </p> + <p> + The voice of Clementina made itself heard with a cheerfulness which had + apparently suffered no chill, but was really a rising rebellion. “How much + ah' the slippas?” + </p> + <p> + “Three dollas,” said the shoeman in a surprise which he could not conceal + at Clementina's courage. + </p> + <p> + She laughed, and stooped to untie the slippers. “That's too much for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me untie 'em, Clem,” said the big girl. “It's a shame for you eva to + take 'em off.” + </p> + <p> + “That's right, lady,” said the shoeman. “And you don't eva need to,” he + added, to Clementina, “unless you object to sleepin' in 'em. You pay me + what you want to now, and the rest when I come around the latta paht of + August.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh keep 'em, Clem!” the big girl urged, passionately, and the rest joined + her with their entreaties. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I betta not,” said Clementina, and she completed the work of + taking off the slippers in which the big girl could lend her no further + aid, such was her affliction of spirit. + </p> + <p> + “All right, lady,” said the shoeman. “Them's youa slippas, and I'll just + keep 'em for you till the latta paht of August.” + </p> + <p> + He drove away, and in the woods which he had to pass through on the road + to another hotel he overtook the figure of a man pacing rapidly. He easily + recognized Gregory, but he bore him no malice. “Like a lift?” he asked, + slowing up beside him. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you,” said Gregory. “I'm out for the walk.” He looked round + furtively, and then put his hand on the side of the wagon, mechanically, + as if to detain it, while he walked on. + </p> + <p> + “Did you sell the slippers to the young lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, not as you may say sell, exactly,” returned the shoeman, + cautiously. + </p> + <p> + “Have you—got them yet?” asked the student. + </p> + <p> + “Guess so,” said the man. “Like to see 'em?” + </p> + <p> + He pulled up his horse. + </p> + <p> + Gregory faltered a moment. Then he said, “I'd like to buy them. Quick!” + </p> + <p> + He looked guiltily about, while the shoeman alertly obeyed, with some + delay for a box to put them in. “How much are they?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's a custom made slipper, and the price to the lady that + oddid'em was seven dollas. But I'll let you have 'em for three—if + you want 'em for a present.”—The shoeman was far too discreet to + permit himself anything so overt as a smile; he merely let a light of + intelligence come into his face. + </p> + <p> + Gregory paid the money. “Please consider this as confidential,” he said, + and he made swiftly away. Before the shoeman could lock the drawer that + had held the slippers, and clamber to his perch under the buggy-hood, + Gregory was running back to him again. + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” he called, and as he came up panting in an excitement which the + shoeman might well have mistaken for indignation attending the discovery + of some blemish in his purchase. “Do you regard this as in any manner a + deception?” he palpitated. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” the shoeman began cautiously, “it wa'n't what you may call a + promise, exactly. More of a joke than anything else, I looked on it. I + just said I'd keep 'em for her; but—” + </p> + <p> + “You don't understand. If I seemed to disapprove—if I led any one to + suppose, by my manner, or by—anything—that I thought it unwise + or unbecoming to buy the shoes, and then bought them myself, do you think + it is in the nature of an acted falsehood?” + </p> + <p> + “Lo'd no!” said the shoeman, and he caught up the slack of his reins to + drive on, as if he thought this amusing maniac might also be dangerous. + </p> + <p> + Gregory stopped him with another question. “And shall—will you—think + it necessary to speak of—of this transaction? I leave you free!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the shoeman. “I don't know what you're after, exactly, but if + you think I'm so shot on for subjects that I've got to tell the folks at + the next stop that I sold a fellar a pair of slippas for his gul—Go + 'long!” he called to his horse, and left Gregory standing in the middle of + the road. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. + </h2> + <p> + The people who came to the Middlemount in July were ordinarily the nicest, + but that year the August folks were nicer than usual and there were some + students among them, and several graduates just going into business, who + chose to take their outing there instead of going to the sea-side or the + North Woods. This was a chance that might not happen in years again, and + it made the house very gay for the young ladies; they ceased to pay court + to the clerk, and asked him for letters only at mail-time. Five or six + couples were often on the floor together, at the hops, and the young + people sat so thick upon the stairs that one could scarcely get up or + down. + </p> + <p> + So many young men made it gay not only for the young ladies, but also for + a certain young married lady, when she managed to shirk her rather filial + duties to her husband, who was much about the verandas, purblindly feeling + his way with a stick, as he walked up and down, or sitting opaque behind + the glasses that preserved what was left of his sight, while his wife read + to him. She was soon acquainted with a good many more people than he knew, + and was in constant request for such occasions as needed a chaperon not + averse to mountain climbing, or drives to other hotels for dancing and + supper and return by moonlight, or the more boisterous sorts of charades; + no sheet and pillow case party was complete without her; for + welsh-rarebits her presence was essential. The event of the conflict + between these social claims and her duties to her husband was her appeal + to Mrs. Atwell on a point which the landlady referred to Clementina. + </p> + <p> + “She wants somebody to read to her husband, and I don't believe but what + you could do it, Clem. You're a good reader, as good as I want to hear, + and while you may say that you don't put in a great deal of elocution, I + guess you can read full well enough. All he wants is just something to + keep him occupied, and all she wants is a chance to occupy herself with + otha folks. Well, she is moa their own age. I d'know as the's any hahm in + her. And my foot's so much betta, now, that I don't need you the whole + while, any moa.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you speak to her about me?” asked the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I told her I'd tell you. I couldn't say how you'd like.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I guess I should like,” said Clementina, with her eyes shining. “But—I + should have to ask motha.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe but what your motha'd be willin',” said Mrs. Atwell. “You + just go down and see her about it.” + </p> + <p> + The next day Mrs. Milray was able to take leave of her husband, in setting + off to matronize a coaching party, with an exuberance of good conscience + that she shared with the spectators. She kissed him with lively affection, + and charged him not to let the child read herself to death for him. She + captioned Clementina that Mr. Milray never knew when he was tired, and she + had better go by the clock in her reading, and not trust to any sign from + him. + </p> + <p> + Clementina promised, and when the public had followed Mrs. Milray away, to + watch her ascent to the topmost seat of the towering coach, by means of + the ladder held in place by two porters, and by help of the down-stretched + hands of all the young men on the coach, Clementina opened the book at the + mark she found in it, and began to read to Mr. Milray. + </p> + <p> + The book was a metaphysical essay, which he professed to find a lighter + sort of reading than fiction; he said most novelists were too seriously + employed in preventing the marriage of the lovers, up to a certain point, + to be amusing; but you could always trust a metaphysician for + entertainment if he was very much in earnest, and most metaphysicians + were. He let Clementina read on a good while in her tender voice, which + had still so many notes of childhood in it, before he manifested any + consciousness of being read to. He kept the smile on his delicate face + which had come there when his wife said at parting, “I don't believe I + should leave her with you if you could see how prettty she was,” and he + held his head almost motionlessly at the same poise he had given it in + listening to her final charges. It was a fine head, still well covered + with soft hair, which lay upon it in little sculpturesque masses, like + chiseled silver, and the acquiline profile had a purity of line in the + arch of the high nose and the jut of the thin lips and delicate chin, + which had not been lost in the change from youth to age. One could never + have taken it for the profile of a New York lawyer who had early found New + York politics more profitable than law, and after a long time passed in + city affairs, had emerged with a name shadowed by certain doubtful + transactions. But this was Milray's history, which in the rapid progress + of American events, was so far forgotten that you had first to remind + people of what he had helped do before you could enjoy their surprise in + realizing that this gentle person, with the cast of intellectual + refinement which distinguished his face, was the notorious Milray, who was + once in all the papers. When he made his game and retired from politics, + his family would have sacrificed itself a good deal to reclaim him + socially, though they were of a severer social than spiritual conscience, + in the decay of some ancestral ideals. But he had rendered their + willingness hopeless by marrying, rather late in life, a young girl from + the farther West who had come East with a general purpose to get on. She + got on very well with Milray, and it was perhaps not altogether her own + fault that she did not get on so well with his family, when she began to + substitute a society aim for the artistic ambition that had brought her to + New York. They might have forgiven him for marrying her, but they could + not forgive her for marrying him. They were of New England origin and they + were perhaps a little more critical with her than if they had been New + Yorkers of Dutch strain. They said that she was a little Western hoyden, + but that the stage would have been a good place for her if she could have + got over her Pike county accent; in the hush of family councils they + confided to one another the belief that there were phases of the variety + business in which her accent would have been no barrier to her success, + since it could not have been heard in the dance, and might have been + disguised in the song. + </p> + <p> + “Will you kindly read that passage over again?” Milray asked as Clementina + paused at the end of a certain paragraph. She read it, while he listened + attentively. “Could you tell me just what you understand by that?” he + pursued, as if he really expected Clementina to instruct him. + </p> + <p> + She hesitated a moment before she answered, “I don't believe I undastand + anything at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” said Milray, “that's exactly my own case? And I've an idea + that the author is in the same box,” and Clementina perceived she might + laugh, and laughed discreetly. + </p> + <p> + Milray seemed to feel the note of discreetness in her laugh, and he asked, + smiling, “How old did you tell me you were?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sixteen,” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + “It's a great age,” said Milray. “I remember being sixteen myself; I have + never been so old since. But I was very old for my age, then. Do you think + you are?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe I am,” said Clementina, laughing again, but still very + discreetly. + </p> + <p> + “Then I should like to tell you that you have a very agreeable voice. Do + you sing?” + </p> + <p> + “No'm—no, sir—no,” said Clementina, “I can't sing at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that's very interesting,” said Milray, “but it's not surprising. I + wish I could see your face distinctly; I've a great curiosity about + matching voices and faces; I must get Mrs. Milray to tell me how you look. + Where did you pick up your pretty knack at reading? In school, here?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” answered Clementina. “Do I read-the way you want?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, perfectly. You let the meaning come through—when there is any.” + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes,” said Clementina ingenuously, “I read too fast; the children + ah' so impatient when I'm reading to them at home, and they hurry me. But + I can read a great deal slower if you want me to.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm impatient, too,” said Milray. “Are there many of them,—the + children?” + </p> + <p> + “There ah' six in all.” + </p> + <p> + “And are you the oldest?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Clementina. She still felt it very blunt not to say sir, too, + but she tried to make her tone imply the sir, as Mr. Gregory had bidden + her. + </p> + <p> + “You've got a very pretty name.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina brightened. “Do you like it? Motha gave it to me; she took it + out of a book that fatha was reading to her.” + </p> + <p> + “I like it very much,” said Milray. “Are you tall for your age?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I am pretty tall.” + </p> + <p> + “You're fair, of course. I can tell that by your voice; you've got a + light-haired voice. And what are your eyes?” + </p> + <p> + “Blue!” Clementina laughed at his pursuit. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, of course! It isn't a gray-eyed blonde voice. Do you think—has + anybody ever told you-that you were graceful?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know as they have,” said Clementina, after thinking. + </p> + <p> + “And what is your own opinion?” Clementina began to feel her dignity + infringed; she did not answer, and now Milray laughed. “I felt the little + tilt in your step as you came up. It's all right. Shall we try for our + friend's meaning, now?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina began again, and again Milray stopped her. “You mustn't bear + malice. I can hear the grudge in your voice; but I didn't mean to laugh at + you. You don't like being made fun of, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe anybody does,” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed,” said Milray. “If I had tried such a thing I should be afraid + you would make it uncomfortable for me. But I haven't, have I?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Clementina, reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + Milray laughed gleefully. “Well, you'll forgive me, because I'm an old + fellow. If I were young, you wouldn't, would you?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina thought of the clerk; she had certainly never forgiven him. + “Shall I read on?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. Read on,” he said, respectfully. Once he interrupted her to say + that she pronounced admirable, but he would like now and then to differ + with her about a word if she did not mind. She answered, Oh no, indeed; + she should like it ever so much, if he would tell her when she was wrong. + After that he corrected her, and he amused himself by studying forms of + respect so delicate that they should not alarm her pride; Clementina + reassured him in terms as fine as his own. She did not accept his + instructions implicitly; she meant to bring them to the bar of Gregory's + knowledge. If he approved of them, then she would submit. + </p> + <p> + Milray easily possessed himself of the history of her life and of all its + circumstances, and he said he would like to meet her father and make the + acquaintance of a man whose mind, as Clementina interpreted it to him, he + found so original. + </p> + <p> + He authorized his wife to arrange with Mrs. Atwell for a monopoly of + Clementina's time while he stayed at Middlemount, and neither he nor Mrs. + Milray seemed surprised at the good round sum, as the landlady thought it, + which she asked in the girl's behalf. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. + </h2> + <p> + The Milrays stayed through August, and Mrs. Milray was the ruling spirit + of the great holiday of the summer, at Middlemount. It was this year that + the landlords of the central mountain region had decided to compete in a + coaching parade, and to rival by their common glory the splendor of the + East Side and the West Side parades. The boarding-houses were to take + part, as well as the hotels; the farms where only three or four summer + folks were received, were to send their mountain-wagons, and all were to + be decorated with bunting. An arch draped with flags and covered with + flowers spanned the entrance to the main street at Middlemount Centre, and + every shop in the village was adorned for the event. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Milray made the landlord tell her all about coaching parades, and the + champions of former years on the East Side and the West Side, and then she + said that the Middlemount House must take the prize from them all this + year, or she should never come near his house again. He answered, with a + dignity and spirit he rarely showed with Mrs. Milray's class of custom, + “I'm goin' to drive our hossis myself.” + </p> + <p> + She gave her whole time to imagining and organizing the personal display + on the coach. She consulted with the other ladies as to the kind of + dresses that were to be worn, but she decided everything herself; and when + the time came she had all the young men ravaging the lanes and pastures + for the goldenrod and asters which formed the keynote of her decoration + for the coach. + </p> + <p> + She made peace and kept it between factions that declared themselves early + in the affair, and of all who could have criticized her for taking the + lead perhaps none would have willingly relieved her of the trouble. She + freely declared that it was killing her, and she sounded her accents of + despair all over the place. When their dresses were finished she made the + persons of her drama rehearse it on the coach top in the secret of the + barn, where no one but the stable men were suffered to see the effects she + aimed at. But on the eve of realizing these in public she was overwhelmed + by disaster. The crowning glory of her composition was to be a young girl + standing on the highest seat of the coach, in the character of the Spirit + of Summer, wreathed and garlanded with flowers, and invisibly sustained by + the twelve months of the year, equally divided as to sex, but with the + more difficult and painful attitudes assigned to the gentlemen who were to + figure as the fall and winter months. It had been all worked out and the + actors drilled in their parts, when the Spirit of Summer, who had been + chosen for the inoffensiveness of her extreme youth, was taken with mumps, + and withdrawn by the doctor's orders. Mrs. Milray had now not only to + improvise another Spirit of Summer, but had to choose her from a group of + young ladies, with the chance of alienating and embittering those who were + not chosen. In her calamity she asked her husband what she should do, with + but the least hope that he could tell her. But he answered promptly, “Take + Clementina; I'll let you have her for the day,” and then waited for the + storm of her renunciations and denunciations to spend itself. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” she said, when this had happened, “it isn't as if she were a + servant in the house; and the position can be regarded as a kind of public + function, anyhow. I can't say that I've hired her to take the part, but I + can give her a present afterwards, and it will be the same thing.” + </p> + <p> + The question of clothes for Clementina Mrs. Milray declared was almost as + sweeping in its implication as the question of the child's creation. “She + has got to be dressed new from head to foot,” she said, “every stitch, and + how am I to manage it in twenty-four hours?” + </p> + <p> + By a succession of miracles with cheese-cloth, and sashes and ribbons, it + was managed; and ended in a triumph so great that Mrs. Milray took the + girl in her arms and kissed her for looking the Spirit of Summer to a + perfection that the victim of the mumps could not have approached. The + victory was not lastingly marred by the failure of Clementina's shoes to + look the Spirit of Summer as well as the rest of her costume. No shoes at + all world have been the very thing, but shoes so shabby and worn down at + one side of the heel as Clementina's were very far from the thing. Mrs. + Milray decided that another fold of cheese-cloth would add to the + statuesque charm of her figure, and give her more height; and she was + richly satisfied with the effect when the Middlemount coach drove up to + the great veranda the next morning, with all the figures of her picture in + position on its roof, and Clementina supreme among them. She herself + mounted in simple, undramatized authority to her official seat beside the + landlord, who in coachman's dress, with a bouquet of autumnal flowers in + his lapel, sat holding his garlanded reins over the backs of his six + horses; and then the coach as she intended it to appear in the parade set + out as soon as the turnouts of the other houses joined it. They were all + to meet at the Middlemount, which was thickly draped and festooned in + flags, with knots of evergreen and the first red boughs of the young swamp + maples holding them in place over its irregular facade. The coach itself + was amass of foliage and flowers, from which it defined itself as a + wheeled vehicle in vague and partial outline; the other wagons and + coaches, as they drove tremulously up, with an effect of having been mired + in blossoms about their spokes and hubs, had the unwieldiness which seems + inseparable from spectacularity. They represented motives in color and + design sometimes tasteless enough, and sometimes so nearly very good that + Mrs. Milray's heart was a great deal in her mouth, as they arrived, each + with its hotel-cry roared and shrilled from a score of masculine and + feminine throats, and finally spelled for distinctness sake, with an + ultimate yell or growl. But she had not finished giving the + lady-representative of a Sunday newspaper the points of her own tableau, + before she regained the courage and the faith in which she remained + serenely steadfast throughout the parade. + </p> + <p> + It was when all the equipages of the neighborhood had arrived that she + climbed to her place; the ladder was taken away; the landlord spoke to his + horses, and the Middlemount coach led the parade, amid the renewed + slogans, and the cries and fluttered handkerchiefs of the guests crowding + the verandas. + </p> + <p> + The line of march was by one road to Middlemount Centre, where the prize + was to be awarded at the judges' stand, and then the coaches were to + escort the triumphant vehicle homeward by another route, so as to pass as + many houses on the way as possible. It was a curious expression of the + carnival spirit in a region immemorially starved of beauty in the lives of + its people; and whatever was the origin of the mountain coaching parade, + or from whatever impulse of sentimentality or advertising it came, the + effect was of undeniable splendor, and of phantasmagoric strangeness. + </p> + <p> + Gregory watched its progress from a hill-side pasture as it trailed slowly + along the rising and falling road. The songs of the young girls, + interrupted by the explosion of hotel slogans and college cries from the + young men, floated off to him on the thin breeze of the cloudless August + morning, like the hymns and shouts of a saturnalian rout going in holiday + processional to sacrifice to their gods. Words of fierce Hebrew poetry + burned in his thought; the warnings and the accusals and the condemnations + of the angry prophets; and he stood rapt from his own time and place in a + dream of days when the Most High stooped to commune face to face with His + ministers, while the young voices of those forgetful or ignorant of Him, + called to his own youth, and the garlanded chariots, with their banners + and their streamers passed on the road beneath him and out of sight in the + shadow of the woods beyond. + </p> + <p> + When the prize was given to the Middlemount coach at the Center the + landlord took the flag, and gallantly transferred it to Mrs. Milray, and + Mrs. Milray passed it up to Clementina, and bade her, “Wave it, wave it!” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0091}.jpg" alt="{0091}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0091}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + The village street was thronged with people that cheered, and swung their + hats and handkerchiefs to the coach as it left the judges' stand and drove + under the triumphal arch, with the other coaches behind it. Then Atwell + turned his horses heads homewards, and at the brisker pace with which + people always return from festivals or from funerals, he left the village + and struck out upon the country road with his long escort before him. The + crowd was quick to catch the courteous intention of the victors, and + followed them with applause as far beyond the village borders as wind and + limb would allow; but the last noisy boy had dropped off breathless before + they reached a half-finished house in the edge of some woods. A line of + little children was drawn up by the road-side before it, who watched the + retinue with grave eagerness, till the Middlemount coach came in full + sight. Then they sprang into the air, and beating their hands together, + screamed, “Clem! Clem! Oh it's Clem!” and jumped up and down, and a shabby + looking work worn woman came round the corner of the house and stared up + at Clementina waving her banner wildly to the children, and shouting + unintelligible words to them. The young people on the coach joined in + response to the children, some simply, some ironically, and one of the men + caught up a great wreath of flowers which lay at Clementina's feet, and + flung it down to them; the shabby woman quickly vanished round the corner + of the house again. Mrs. Milray leaned over to ask the landlord, “Who in + the world are Clementina's friends?” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you know?” he retorted in abated voice. “Them's her brothas and + sistas.” + </p> + <p> + “And that woman?” + </p> + <p> + “The lady at the conna? That's her motha.” + </p> + <p> + When the event was over, and all the things had been said and said again, + and there was nothing more to keep the spring and summer months from going + up to their rooms to lie down, and the fall and winter months from trying + to get something to eat, Mrs. Milray found herself alone with Clementina. + </p> + <p> + The child seemed anxious about something, and Mrs. Milray, who wanted to + go and lie down, too, asked a little impatiently, “What is it, + Clementina?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing. Only I was afraid maybe you didn't like my waving to the + children, when you saw how queea they looked.” Clementina's lips quivered. + </p> + <p> + “Did any of the rest say anything?” + </p> + <p> + “I know what they thought. But I don't care! I should do it right over + again!” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0096}.jpg" alt="{0096}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0096}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + Mrs. Milray's happiness in the day's triumph was so great that she could + indulge a generous emotion. She caught the girl in her arms. “I want to + kiss you; I want to hug you, Clementina!” + </p> + <h2> + <a name="linkX" id="X"></a> X. + </h2> + <p> + The notion of a dance for the following night to celebrate the success of + the house in the coaching parade came to Mrs. Milray over a welsh-rarebit + which she gave at the close of the evening. The party was in the charge of + Gregory, who silently served them at their orgy with an austerity that + might have conspired with the viand itself against their dreams, if they + had not been so used to the gloom of his ministrations. He would not allow + the waitresses to be disturbed in their evening leisure, or kept from + their sleep by such belated pleasures; and when he had provided the + materials for the rarebit, he stood aloof, and left their combination to + Mrs. Milray and her chafing-dish. + </p> + <p> + She had excluded Clementina on account of her youth, as she said to one of + the fall and winter months, who came in late, and noticed Clementina's + absence with a “Hello! Anything the matter with the Spirit of Summer?” + Clementina had become both a pet and a joke with these months before the + parade was over, and now they clamored together, and said they must have + her at the dance anyway. They were more tepidly seconded by the spring and + summer months, and Mrs. Milray said, “Well, then, you'll have to all + subscribe and get her a pair of dancing slippers.” They pressed her for + her meaning, and she had to explain the fact of Clementina's destitution, + which that additional fold of cheese-cloth had hidden so well in the + coaching tableau that it had never been suspected. The young men entreated + her to let them each buy a pair of slippers for the Spirit of Summer, + which she should wear in turn for the dance that she must give each of + them; and this made Mrs. Milray declare that, no, the child should not + come to the dance at all, and that she was not going to have her spoiled. + But, before the party broke up, she promised that she would see what could + be done, and she put it very prettily to the child the next day, and + waited for her to say, as she knew she must, that she could not go, and + why. They agreed that the cheese-cloth draperies of the Spirit of Summer + were surpassingly fit for the dance; but they had to agree that this still + left the question of slippers untouched. It remained even more hopeless + when Clementina tried on all of Mrs. Milray's festive shoes, and none of + her razorpoints and high heels would avail. She went away disappointed, + but not yet disheartened; youth does not so easily renounce a pleasure + pressed to the lips; and Clementina had it in her head to ask some of the + table girls to help her out. She meant to try first with that big girl who + had helped her put on the shoeman's bronze slippers; and she hurried + through the office, pushing purblindly past Fane without looking his way, + when he called to her in the deference which he now always used with her, + “Here's a package here for you, Clementina—Miss Claxon,” and he gave + her an oblong parcel, addressed in a hand strange to her. “Who is it + from?” she asked, innocently, and Fane replied with the same + ingenuousness: “I'm sure I don't know.” Afterwards he thought of having + retorted, “I haven't opened it,” but still without being certain that he + would have had the courage to say it. + </p> + <p> + Clementina did not think of opening it herself, even when she was alone in + her little room above Mrs. Atwell's, until she had carefully felt it over, + and ascertained that it was a box of pasteboard, three or four inches deep + and wide, and eight or ten inches long. She looked at the address again, + “Miss Clementina Claxon,” and at the narrow notched ribbon which tied it, + and noted that the paper it was wrapped in was very white and clean. Then + she sighed, and loosed the knot, and the paper slipped off the box, and at + the same time the lid fell off, and the shoe man's bronze slippers fell + out upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + Either it must be a dream or it must be a joke; it could not be both real + and earnest; somebody was trying to tease her; such flattery of fortune + could not be honestly meant. But it went to her head, and she was so giddy + with it as she caught the slippers from the floor, and ran down to Mrs. + Atwell, that she knocked against the sides of the narrow staircase. + </p> + <p> + “What is it? What does it mean? Who did it?” she panted, with the slippers + in her hand. “Whe'e did they come from?” She poured out the history of her + trying on these shoes, and of her present need of them and of their + mysterious coming, to meet her longing after it had almost ceased to be a + hope. Mrs. Atwell closed with her in an exultation hardly short of a + clapping the hands. Her hair was gray, and the girl's hair still hung in + braids down her back, but they were of the same age in their transport, + which they referred to Mrs. Milray, and joined with her in glad but + fruitless wonder who had sent Clementina the shoes. Mrs. Atwell held that + the help who had seen the girl trying them on had clubbed together and got + them for her at the time; and had now given them to her for the honor she + had done the Middlemount House in the parade. Mrs. Milray argued that the + spring and summer months had secretly dispatched some fall and winter + month to ransack the stores at Middlemount Centre for them. Clementina + believed that they came from the shoe man himself, who had always wanted + to send them, in the hope that she would keep them, and had merely + happened to send them just then in that moment of extremity when she was + helpless against them. Each conjecture involved improbabilities so gross + that it left the field free to any opposite theory. + </p> + <p> + Rumor of the fact could not fail to go through the house, and long before + his day's work was done it reached the chef, and amused him as a piece of + the Boss's luck. He was smoking his evening pipe at the kitchen door after + supper, when Clementina passed him on one of the many errands that took + her between Mrs. Milray's room and her own, and he called to her: “Boss, + what's this I hear about a pair o' glass slippas droppin' out the sky int' + youa lap?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina was so happy that she thought she might trust him for once, and + she said, “Oh, yes, Mr. Mahtin! Who do you suppose sent them?” she + entreated him so sweetly that it would have softened any heart but the + heart of a tease. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I could give a pootty good guess if I had the facts.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina innocently gave them to him, and he listened with a + well-affected sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “Say Fane fust told you about 'em?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. 'He'e's a package for you,' he said. Just that way; and he couldn't + tell me who left it, or anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Anybody asked him about it since?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! Mrs. Milray, and Mrs. Atwell, and Mr. Atwell, and everybody.” + </p> + <p> + “Everybody.” The chef smiled with a peculiar droop of one eye. “And he + didn't know when the slippas got into the landlo'd's box?” + </p> + <p> + “No. The fust thing he knew, the' they we'e!” Clementina stood expectant, + but the chef smoked on as if that were all there was to say, and seemed to + have forgotten her. “Who do you think put them thea, Mr. Mahtin?” + </p> + <p> + The chef looked up as if surprised to find her still there. “Oh! Oh, yes! + Who d' I think? Why, I know, Boss. But I don't believe I'd betta tell + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do, Mr. Mahtin! If you knew how I felt about it—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! I guess I betta not. 'Twouldn't do you any good. I guess I won't + say anything moa. But if I was in youa place, and I really wanted to know + whe'e them slippas come from—” + </p> + <p> + “I do—I do indeed—” + </p> + <p> + The chef paused before he added, “I should go at Fane. I guess what he + don't know ain't wo'th knowin', and I guess nobody else knows anything. + Thea! I don't know but I said mo'n I ought, now.” + </p> + <p> + What the chef said was of a piece with what had been more than once in + Clementina's mind; but she had driven it out, not because it might not be + true, but because she would not have it true. Her head drooped; she turned + limp and springless away. Even the heart of the tease was touched; he had + not known that it would worry her so much, though he knew that she + disliked the clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Mind,” he called after her, too late, “I ain't got no proof 't he done + it.” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer him, or look round. She went to her room, and sat down + in the growing dusk to think, with a hot lump in her throat. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Atwell found her there an hour later, when she climbed to the chamber + where she thought she ought to have heard Clementina moving about over her + own room. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't know but I could help you do youa dressin',” she began, and then + at sight of the dim figure she broke off: “Why, Clem! What's the matte? + Ah' you asleep? Ah' you sick? It's half an hour of the time and—” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going,” Clementina answered, and she did not move. + </p> + <p> + “Not goin'! Why the land o'—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can't go, Mrs. Atwell. Don't ask me! Tell Mrs. Milray, please!” + </p> + <p> + “I will, when I got something to tell,” said Mrs. Atwell. “Now, you just + say what's happened, Clementina Claxon!” Clementina suffered the woful + truth to be drawn from her. “But you don't know whether it's so or not,” + the landlady protested. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I do! It was the last thing I thought of, and the chef wouldn't + have said it if he didn't believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “That's just what he would done,” cried Mrs. Atwell. “And I'll give him + such a goin' ova, for his teasin', as he ain't had in one while. He just + said it to tease. What you goin' to say to Mrs. Milray?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, tell her I'm not a bit well, Mrs. Atwell! My head does ache, truly.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, listen,” said Mrs. Atwell, recklessly. “If you believe he done it—and + he no business to—why don't you just go to the dance, in 'em, and + then give 'em back to him after it's ova? It would suv him right.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina listened for a moment of temptation, and then shook her head. + “It wouldn't do, Mrs. Atwell; you know it wouldn't,” she said, and Mrs. + Atwell had too little faith in her suggestion to make it prevail. She went + away to carry Clementina's message to Mrs. Milray, and her task was + greatly eased by the increasing difficulty Mrs. Milray had begun to find, + since the way was perfectly smoothed for her, in imagining the management + of Clementina at the dance: neither child nor woman, neither servant nor + lady, how was she to be carried successfully through it, without sorrow to + herself or offence to others? In proportion to the relief she felt, Mrs. + Milray protested her irreconcilable grief; but when the simpler Mrs. + Atwell proposed her going and reasoning with Clementina, she said, No, no; + better let her alone, if she felt as she did; and perhaps after all she + was right. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. + </h2> + <p> + Clementina listened to the music of the dance, till the last note was + played; and she heard the gay shouts and laughter of the dancers as they + issued from the ball room and began to disperse about the halls and + verandas, and presently to call good night to one another. Then she + lighted her lamp, and put the slippers back into the box and wrapped it up + in the nice paper it had come in, and tied it with the notched ribbon. She + thought how she had meant to put the slippers away so, after the dance, + when she had danced her fill in them, and how differently she was doing it + all now. She wrote the clerk's name on the parcel, and then she took the + box, and descended to the office with it. There seemed to be nobody there, + but at the noise of her step Fane came round the case of letter-boxes, and + advanced to meet her at the long desk. + </p> + <p> + “What's wanted, Miss Claxon?” he asked, with his hopeless respectfulness. + “Anything I can do for you?” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer, but looked him solemnly in the eyes and laid the + parcel down on the open register, and then went out. + </p> + <p> + He looked at the address on the parcel, and when he untied it, the box + fell open and the shoes fell out of it, as they had with Clementina. He + ran with them behind the letter-box frame, and held them up before + Gregory, who was seated there on the stool he usually occupied, gloomily + nursing his knee. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose this means, Frank?” + </p> + <p> + Gregory looked at the shoes frowningly. “They're the slippers she got + to-day. She thinks you sent them to her.” + </p> + <p> + “And she wouldn't have them because she thought I sent them! As sure as + I'm standing here, I never did it,” said the clerk, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said Gregory. “I sent them.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” + </p> + <p> + “What's so wonderful?” Gregory retorted. “I saw that she wanted them that + day when the shoe peddler was here. I could see it, and you could.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I went across into the woods, and the man overtook me with his wagon. I + was tempted, and I bought the slippers of him. I wanted to give them to + her then, but I resisted, and I thought I should never give them. To-day, + when I heard that she was going to that dance, I sent them to her + anonymously. That's all there is about it.” + </p> + <p> + The clerk had a moment of bitterness. “If she'd known it was you, she + wouldn't have given them back.” + </p> + <p> + “That's to be seen. I shall tell her, now. I never meant her to know, but + she must, because she's doing you wrong in her ignorance.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory was silent, and Fane was trying to measure the extent of his own + suffering, and to get the whole bearing of the incident in his mind. In + the end his attempt was a failure. He asked Gregory, “And do you think + you've done just right by me?” + </p> + <p> + “I've done right by nobody,” said Gregory, “not even by myself; and I can + see that it was my own pleasure I had in mind. I must tell her the truth, + and then I must leave this place.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you want I should keep it quiet,” said Fane. + </p> + <p> + “I don't ask anything of you.” + </p> + <p> + “And she wouldn't,” said Fane, after reflection. “But I know she'd be glad + of it, and I sha'n't say anything. Of course, she never can care for me; + and—there's my hand with my word, if you want it.” Gregory silently + took the hand stretched toward him and Fane added: “All I'll ask is that + you'll tell her I wouldn't have presumed to send her the shoes. She + wouldn't be mad at you for it.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory took the box, and after some efforts to speak, he went away. It + was an old trouble, an old error, an old folly; he had yielded to impulse + at every step, and at every step he had sinned against another or against + himself. What pain he had now given the simple soul of Fane; what pain he + had given that poor child who had so mistaken and punished the simple + soul! With Fane it was over now, but with Clementina the worst was perhaps + to come yet. He could not hope to see the girl before morning, and then, + what should he say to her? At sight of a lamp burning in Mrs. Atwell's + room, which was on a level with the veranda where he was walking, it came + to him that first of all he ought to go to her, and confess the whole + affair; if her husband were with her, he ought to confess before him; they + were there in the place of the child's father and mother, and it was due + to them. As he pressed rapidly toward the light he framed in his thought + the things he should say, and he did not notice, as he turned to enter the + private hallway leading to Mrs. Atwell's apartment, a figure at the door. + It shrank back from his contact, and he recognized Clementina. His purpose + instantly changed, and he said, “Is that you, Miss Claxon? I want to speak + with you. Will you come a moment where I can?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't know as I'd betta,” she faltered. But she saw the box + under his arm, and she thought that he wished to speak to her about that, + and she wanted to hear what he would say. She had been waiting at the door + there, because she could not bear to go to her room without having + something more happen. + </p> + <p> + “You needn't be afraid. I shall not keep you. Come with me a moment. There + is something I must tell you at once. You have made a mistake. And it is + my fault. Come!” + </p> + <p> + Clementina stepped out into the moonlight with him, and they walked across + the grass that sloped between the hotel and the river. There were still + people about, late smokers singly, and in groups along the piazzas, and + young couples, like themselves, strolling in the dry air, under the pure + sky. + </p> + <p> + Gregory made several failures in trying to begin, before he said: “I have + to tell you that you are mistaken about Mr. Fane. I was there behind the + letter boxes when you came in, and I know that you left these shoes + because you thought he sent them to you. He didn't send them.” Clementina + did not say anything, and Gregory was forced to ask: “Do you wish to know + who sent them? I won't tell you unless you do wish it.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I ought to know,” she said, and she asked, “Don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; for you must blame some one else now, for what you thought Fane did. + I sent them to you.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina's heart gave a leap in her breast, and she could not say + anything. He went on. + </p> + <p> + “I saw that you wanted them that day, and when the peddler happened to + overtake me in the woods where I was walking, after I left you, I acted on + a sudden impulse, and I bought them for you. I meant to send them to you + anonymously, then. I had committed one error in acting upon impulse-my + rashness is my besetting sin—and I wished to add a species of deceit + to that. But I was kept from it until-to-day. I hoped you would like to + wear them to the dance to-night, and I put them in the post-office for you + myself. Mr. Fane didn't know anything about it. That is all. I am to + blame, and no one else.” + </p> + <p> + He waited for her to speak, but Clementina could only say, “I don't know + what to say.” + </p> + <p> + “You can't say anything that would be punishment enough for me. I have + acted foolishly, cruelly.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina did not think so. She was not indignant, as she was when she + thought Fane had taken this liberty with her, but if Mr. Gregory thought + it was so very bad, it must be something much more serious than she had + imagined. She said, “I don't see why you wanted to do it,” hoping that he + would be able to tell her something that would make his behavior seem less + dreadful than he appeared to think it was. + </p> + <p> + “There is only one thing that could justify it, and that is something that + I cannot justify.” It was very mysterious, but youth loves mystery, and + Clementina was very young. “I did it,” said Gregory solemnly, and he felt + that now he was acting from no impulse, but from a wisely considered + decision which he might not fail in without culpability, “because I love + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Clementina, and she started away from him. + </p> + <p> + “I knew that it would make me detestable!” he cried, bitterly. “I had to + tell you, to explain what I did. I couldn't help doing it. But now if you + can forget it, and never think of me again, I can go away, and try to + atone for it somehow. I shall be guided.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina did not know why she ought to feel affronted or injured by what + he had said to her; but if Mr. Gregory thought it was wrong for him to + have spoken so, it must be wrong. She did not wish him to feel badly, even + if he had done wrong, but she had to take his view of what he had done. + “Why, suttainly, Mr. Gregory,” she answered. “You mustn't mind it.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do mind it. I have been very, very selfish, very thoughtless. We + are both too young. I can't ask you to wait for me till I could marry—” + </p> + <p> + The word really frightened Clementina. She said, “I don't believe I betta + promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know it!” said Gregory. “I am going away from here. I am going + to-morrow as soon as I can arrange—as soon as I can get away. + Good-night—I”—Clementina in her agitation put her hands up to + her face. “Oh, don't cry—I can't bear to have you cry.” + </p> + <p> + She took down her hands. “I'm not crying! But I wish I had neva seen those + slippas.” + </p> + <p> + They had come to the bank of the river, whose current quivered at that + point in a scaly ripple in the moonlight. At her words Gregory suddenly + pulled the box from under his arm, and flung it into the stream as far as + he could. It caught upon a shallow of the ripple, hung there a moment, + then loosed itself, and swam swiftly down the stream. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Clementina moaned. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want them back?” he demanded. “I will go in for them!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! No. But it seemed such a—waste!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that is a sin, too.” They climbed silently to the hotel. At Mrs. + Atwell's door, he spoke. “Try to forget what I said, and forgive me, if + you can.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, I will, Mr. Gregory. You mustn't think of it any moa.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. + </h2> + <p> + Clementina did not sleep till well toward morning, and she was still + sleeping when Mrs. Atwell knocked and called in to her that her brother + Jim wanted to see her. She hurried down, and in the confusion of mind left + over from the night before she cooed sweetly at Jim as if he had been Mr. + Gregory, “What is it, Jim? What do you want me for?” + </p> + <p> + The boy answered with the disgust a sister's company manners always rouse + in a brother. “Motha wants you. Says she's wo'ked down, and she wants you + to come and help.” Then he went his way. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Atwell was used to having help snatched from her by their families at + a moment's notice. “I presume you've got to go, Clem,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, I've got to go,” Clementina assented, with a note of relief + which mystified Mrs. Atwell. + </p> + <p> + “You tied readin' to Mr. Milray?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no'm—no, I mean. But I guess I betta go home. I guess I've been away + long enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you're a good gul, Clem. I presume your motha's got a right to have + you home if she wants you.” Clementina said nothing to this, but turned + briskly, and started upstairs toward her room again. The landlady called + after her, “Shall you speak to Mis' Milray, or do you want I should?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina looked back at her over her shoulder to warble, “Why, if you + would, Mrs. Atwell,” and kept on to her room. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Milray was not wholly sorry to have her go; she was going herself + very soon, and Clementina's earlier departure simplified the question of + getting rid of her; but she overwhelmed her with reproaches which + Clementina received with such sweet sincerity that another than Mrs. + Milray might have blamed herself for having abused her ingenuousness. + </p> + <p> + The Atwells could very well have let the girl walk home, but they sent her + in a buckboard, with one of the stablemen to drive her. The landlord put + her neat bundle under the seat of the buckboard with his own hand. There + was something in the child's bearing, her dignity and her amiability, + which made people offer her, half in fun, and half in earnest, the + deference paid to age and state. + </p> + <p> + She did not know whether Gregory would try to see her before she went. She + thought he must have known she was going, but since he neither came to + take leave of her, nor sent her any message, she decided that she had not + expected him to do so. About the third week of September she heard that he + had left Middlemount and gone back to college. + </p> + <p> + She kept at her work in the house and helped her mother, and looked after + the little ones; she followed her father in the woods, in his quest of + stuff for walking sticks, and advised with both concerning the taste of + summer folks in dress and in canes. The winter came, and she read many + books in its long leisure, mostly novels, out of the rector's library. He + had a whole set of Miss Edgeworth, and nearly all of Miss Austen and Miss + Gurney, and he gave of them to Clementina, as the best thing for her mind + as well as her morals; he believed nothing could be better for any one + than these old English novels, which he had nearly forgotten in their + details. She colored the faded English life of the stories afresh from her + Yankee circumstance; and it seemed the consensus of their testimony that + she had really been made love to, and not so very much too soon, at her + age of sixteen, for most of their heroines were not much older. The terms + of Gregory's declaration and of its withdrawal were mystifying, but not + more mystifying than many such things, and from what happened in the + novels she read, the affair might be trusted to come out all right of + itself in time. She was rather thoughtfuller for it, and once her mother + asked her what was the matter with her. “Oh, I guess I'm getting old, + motha,” she said, and turned the question off. She would not have minded + telling her mother about Gregory, but it would not have been the custom; + and her mother would have worried, and would have blamed him. Clementina + could have more easily trusted her father with the case, but so far as she + knew fathers never were trusted with anything of the kind. She would have + been willing that accident should bring it to the knowledge of Mrs. + Richling; but the moment never came when she could voluntarily confide in + her, though she was a great deal with her that winter. She was Mrs. + Richling's lieutenant in the social affairs of the parish, which the + rector's wife took under her care. She helped her get up entertainments of + the kind that could be given in the church parlor, and they managed + together some dances which had to be exiled to the town hall. They + contrived to make the young people of the village feel that they were + having a gay time, and Clementina did not herself feel that it was a dull + one. She taught them some of the new steps and figures which the help used + to pick up from the summer folks at the Middlemount, and practise + together; she liked doing that; her mother said the child would rather + dance than eat, any time. She was never sad, but so much dignity got into + her sweetness that the rector now and then complained of feeling put down + by her. + </p> + <p> + She did not know whether she expected Gregory to write to her or not; but + when no letters came she decided that she had not expected them. She + wondered if he would come back to the Middlemount the next summer; but + when the summer came, she heard that they had another student in his + place. She heard that they had a new clerk, and that the boarders were not + so pleasant. Another year passed, and towards the end of the season Mrs. + Atwell wished her to come and help her again, and Clementina went over to + the hotel to soften her refusal. She explained that her mother had so much + sewing now that she could not spare her; and Mrs. Atwell said: Well, that + was right, and that she must be the greatest kind of dependence for her + mother. “You ah' going on seventeen this year, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I was nineteen the last day of August,” said Clementina, and Mrs. Atwell + sighed, and said, How the time did fly. + </p> + <p> + It was the second week of September, but Mrs. Atwell said they were going + to keep the house open till the middle of October, if they could, for the + autumnal foliage, which there was getting to be quite a class of custom + for. + </p> + <p> + “I presume you knew Mr. Landa was dead,” she added, and at Clementina's + look of astonishment, she said with a natural satisfaction, “Mm! died the + thutteenth day of August. I presumed somehow you'd know it, though you + didn't see a great deal of 'em, come to think of it. I guess he was a good + man; too good for her, I guess,” she concluded, in the New England + necessity of blaming some one. “She sent us the papah.” + </p> + <p> + There was an early frost; and people said there was going to be a hard + winter, but it was not this that made Clementina's father set to work + finishing his house. His turning business was well started, now, and he + had got together money enough to pay for the work. He had lately enlarged + the scope of his industry by turning gate-posts and urns for the tops of + them, which had become very popular, for the front yards of the farm and + village houses in a wide stretch of country. They sold more steadily than + the smaller wares, the cups, and tops, and little vases and platters which + had once been the output of his lathe; after the first season the interest + of the summer folks in these fell off; but the gate posts and the urns + appealed to a lasting taste in the natives. + </p> + <p> + Claxon wished to put the finishing touches on the house himself, and he + was willing to suspend more profitable labors to do so. After some + attempts at plastering he was forced to leave that to the plasterers, but + he managed the clap-boarding, with Clementina to hand him boards and + nails, and to keep him supplied with the hammer he was apt to drop at + critical moments. They talked pretty constantly at their labors, and in + their leisure, which they spent on the brown needles under the pines at + the side of the house. Sometimes the hammering or the talking would be + interrupted by a voice calling, from a passing vehicle in the hidden + roadway, something about urns. Claxon would answer, without troubling + himself to verify the inquirer; or moving from his place, that he would + get round to them, and then would hammer on, or talk on with Clementina. + </p> + <p> + One day in October a carriage drove up to the door, after the work on the + house had been carried as far as Claxon's mood and money allowed, and he + and Clementina were picking up the litter of his carpentering. He had + replaced the block of wood which once served at the front door by some + steps under an arbor of rustic work; but this was still so novel that the + younger children had not outgrown their pride in it and were playing at + house-keeping there. Clementina ran around to the back door and out + through the front entry in time to save the visitor and the children from + the misunderstanding they began to fall into, and met her with a smile of + hospitable brilliancy, and a recognition full of compassionate welcome. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander gave way to her tears as she broke out, “Oh, it ain't the way + it was the last time I was he'a! You hea'd that he—that Mr. Landa—” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Atwell told me,” said Clementina. “Won't you come in, and sit down?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes.” Mrs. Lander pushed in through the narrow door of what was to + be the parlor. Her crapes swept about her and exhaled a strong scent of + their dyes. Her veil softened her heavy face; but she had not grown + thinner in her bereavement. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0209}.jpg" alt="{0209}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0209}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + “I just got to the Middlemount last night,” she said, “and I wanted to see + you and your payrents, both, Miss Claxon. It doos bring him back so! You + won't neva know how much he thought of you, and you'll all think I'm + crazy. I wouldn't come as long as he was with me, and now I have to come + without him; I held out ag'inst him as long as I had him to hold out + ag'inst. Not that he was eva one to push, and I don't know as he so much + as spoke of it, afta we left the hotel two yea's ago; but I presume it + wa'n't out of his mind a single minute. Time and time again I'd say to + him, 'Now, Albe't, do you feel about it just the way you done?' and he'd + say, 'I ha'r't had any call to charge my mind about it,' and then I'd + begin tryin' to ahgue him out of it, and keep a hectorin', till he'd say, + 'Well, I'm not askin' you to do it,' and that's all I could get out of + him. But I see all the while 't he wanted me to do it, whateva he asked, + and now I've got to do it when it can't give him any pleasure.” Mrs. + Lander put up her black-bordered handkerchief and sobbed into it, and + Clementina waited till her grief had spent itself; then she gave her a + fan, and Mrs. Lander gratefully cooled her hot wet face. The children had + found the noises of her affliction and the turbid tones of her monologue + annoying, and had gone off to play in the woods; Claxon kept incuriously + about the work that Clementina had left him to; his wife maintained the + confidence which she always felt in Clementina's ability to treat with the + world when it presented itself, and though she was curious enough, she did + not offer to interrupt the girl's interview with Mrs. Lander; Clementina + would know how to behave. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander, when she had refreshed herself with the fan, seemed to get a + fresh grip of her theme, and she told Clementina all abort Mr. Lander's + last sickness. It had been so short that it gave her no time to try the + climate of Colorado upon him, which she now felt sure would have brought + him right up; and she had remembered, when too late, to give him a + liver-medicine of her own, though it did not appear that it was his liver + which was affected; that was the strange part of it. But, brief as his + sickness was, he had felt that it was to be his last, and had solemnly + talked over her future with her, which he seemed to think would be lonely. + He had not named Clementina, but Mrs. Lander had known well enough what he + meant; and now she wished to ask her, and her father and mother, how they + would all like Clementina to come and spend the winter with her at Boston + first, and then further South, and wherever she should happen to go. She + apologized for not having come sooner upon this errand; she had resolved + upon it as soon as Mr. Lander was gone, but she had been sick herself, and + had only just now got out of bed. + </p> + <p> + Clementina was too young to feel the pathos of the case fully, or perhaps + even to follow the tortuous course of Mrs. Lander's motives, but she was + moved by her grief; and she could not help a thrill of pleasure in the + vague splendor of the future outlined by Mrs. Lander's proposal. For a + time she had thought that Mrs. Milray was going to ask her to visit her in + New York; Mrs. Milray had thrown out a hint of something of the kind at + parting, but that was the last of it; and now she at once made up her mind + that she would like to go with Mrs. Lander, while discreetly saying that + she would ask her father and mother to come and talk with her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. + </h2> + <p> + Her parents objected to leaving their work; each suggested that the other + had better go; but they both came at Clementina's urgence. Her father + laughed and her mother frowned when she told them what Mrs. Lander wanted, + from the same misgiving of her sanity. They partly abandoned this theory + for a conviction of Mrs. Lander's mere folly when she began to talk, and + this slowly yielded to the perception that she had some streaks of sense. + It was sense in the first place to want to have Clementina with her, and + though it might not be sense to suppose that they would be anxious to let + her go, they did not find so much want of it as Mrs. Lander talked on. It + was one of her necessities to talk away her emotions before arriving at + her ideas, which were often found in a tangle, but were not without a + certain propriety. She was now, after her interview with Clementina, in + the immediate presence of these, and it was her ideas that she began to + produce for the girl's father and mother. She said, frankly, that she had + more money than she knew what to do with, and they must not think she + supposed she was doing a favor, for she was really asking one. + </p> + <p> + She was alone in the world, without near connections of her own, or + relatives of her husband's, and it would be a mercy if they could let + their daughter come and visit her; she would not call it more than a + visit; that would be the best thing on both sides; she told of her great + fancy for Clementina the first time she saw her, and of her husband's wish + that she would come and visit with them then for the winter. As for that + money she had tried to make the child take, she presumed that they knew + about it, and she wished to say that she did it because she was afraid Mr. + Lander had said so much about the sewing, that they would be disappointed. + She gave way to her tears at the recollection, and confessed that she + wanted the child to have the money anyway. She ended by asking Mrs. Claxon + if she would please to let her have a drink of water; and she looked about + the room, and said that they had got it finished up a great deal, now, had + not they? She made other remarks upon it, so apt that Mrs. Claxon gave her + a sort of permissive invitation to look about the whole lower floor, + ending with the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander sat down there while Mrs. Claxon drew from the pipes a glass + of water, which she proudly explained was pumped all over the house by the + wind mill that supplied the power for her husband's turning lathes. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wish mah husband could have tasted that wata,” said Mrs. Lander, + as if reminded of husbands by the word, and by the action of putting down + the glass. “He was always such a great hand for good, cold wata. My! He'd + 'a liked youa kitchen, Mrs. Claxon. He always was such a home-body, and he + did get so ti'ed of hotels. For all he had such an appearance, when you + see him, of bein'—well!—stiff and proud, he was fah moa common + in his tastes—I don't mean common, exactly, eitha—than what I + was; and many a time when we'd be drivin' through the country, and we'd + pass some o' them long-strung-out houses, don't you know, with the kitchen + next to the wood shed, and then an ahchway befoa you get to the stable, + Mr. Landa he'd get out, and make an urrand, just so's to look in at the + kitchen dooa; he said it made him think of his own motha's kitchen. We was + both brought up in the country, that's a fact, and I guess if the truth + was known we both expected to settle down and die thea, some time; but now + he's gone, and I don't know what'll become o' me, and sometimes I don't + much care. I guess if Mr. Landa'd 'a seen youa kitchen, it wouldn't 'a' + been so easy to git him out of it; and I do believe if he's livin' anywhe' + now he takes as much comfo't in my settin' here as what I do. I presume I + shall settle down somewhe's before a great while, and if you could make up + youa mind to let your daughta come to me for a little visit till spring, + you couldn't do a thing that 'd please Mr. Landa moa.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Claxon said that she would talk it over with the child's father; and + then Mrs. Lander pressed her to let her take Clementina back to the + Middlemount with her for supper, if they wouldn't let her stay the night. + After Clementina had driven away, Mrs. Claxon accused herself to her + husband of being the greatest fool in the State, but he said that the + carriage was one of the Middlemount rigs, and he guessed it was all right. + He could see that Clem was wild to go, and he didn't see why she + shouldn't. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I do, then,” his wife retorted. “We don't know anything about the + woman, or who she is.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess no harm'll come to Clem for one night,” said Claxon, and Mrs. + Claxon was forced back upon the larger question for the maintenance of her + anxiety. She asked what he was going to do about letting Clem go the whole + winter with a perfect stranger; and he answered that he had not got round + to that yet, and that there were a good many things to be thought of + first. He got round to see the rector before dark, and in the light of his + larger horizon, was better able to orient Mrs. Lander and her motives than + he had been before. + </p> + <p> + When she came back with the girl the next morning, she had thought of + something in the nature of credentials. It was the letter from her church + in Boston, which she took whenever she left home, so that if she wished + she might unite with the church in any place where she happened to be + stopping. It did not make a great impression upon the Claxons, who were of + no religion, though they allowed their children to go to the Episcopal + church and Sunday-school, and always meant to go themselves. They said + they would like to talk the matter over with the rector, if Mrs. Lander + did not object; she offered to send her carriage for him, and the rector + was brought at once. + </p> + <p> + He was one of those men who have, in the breaking down of the old + Puritanical faith, and the dying out of the later Unitarian rationalism, + advanced and established the Anglican church so notably in the New England + hill-country, by a wise conformity to the necessities and exactions of the + native temperament. On the ecclesiastical side he was conscientiously + uncompromising, but personally he was as simple-mannered as he was + simple-hearted. He was a tall lean man in rusty black, with a clerical + waistcoat that buttoned high, and scholarly glasses, but with a belated + straw hat that had counted more than one summer, and a farmer's tan on his + face and hands. He pronounced the church-letter, though quite outside of + his own church, a document of the highest respectability, and he listened + with patient deference to the autobiography which Mrs. Lander poured out + upon him, and her identifications, through reference to this or that + person in Boston whom he knew either at first or second hand. He had not + to pronounce upon her syntax, or her social quality; it was enough for + him, in behalf of the Claxons, to find her what she professed to be. + </p> + <p> + “You must think,” he said, laughing, “that we are over-particular; but the + fact is that we value Clementina rather highly, and we wish to be sure + that your hospitable offer will be for her real good.” + </p> + <p> + “Of cou'se,” said Mrs. Lander. “I should be just so myself abort her.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” he continued, “that I've ever said how much we think of + her, Mrs. Richling and I, but this seems a good opportunity, as she is not + present. + </p> + <p> + “She is not perfect, but she comes as near being a thoroughly good girl as + she can without knowing it. She has a great deal of common-sense, and we + all want her to have the best chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's just the way I feel about her, and that's just what I mean + to give her,” said Mrs. Lander. + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure that I make myself quite clear,” said the rector. “I mean, + a chance to prove how useful and helpful she can be. Do you think you can + make life hard for her occasionally? Can you be peevish and exacting, and + unreasonable? Can you do something to make her value superfluity and + luxury at their true worth?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander looked a little alarmed and a little offended. “I don't know + as I undastand what you mean, exactly,” she said, frowning rather with + perplexity than resentment. “But the child sha'n't have a care, and her + own motha couldn't be betta to her than me. There a'n't anything money can + buy that she sha'n't have, if she wants it, and all I'll ask of her is 't + she'll enjoy herself as much as she knows how. I want her with me because + I should love to have her round; and we did from the very fust minute she + spoke, Mr. Lander and me, both. She shall have her own money, and spend it + for anything she pleases, and she needn't do a stitch o' work from mohnin' + till night. But if you're afraid I shall put upon her.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” said the rector, and he threw back his head with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + When it was all arranged, a few days later, after the verification of + certain of Mrs. Lander's references by letters to Boston, he said to + Clementina's father and mother, “There's only one danger, now, and that is + that she will spoil Clementina; but there's a reasonable hope that she + won't know how.” He found the Claxons struggling with a fresh misgiving, + which Claxon expressed. “The way I look at it is like this. I don't want + that woman should eva think Clem was after her money. On the face of it + there a'n't very much to her that would make anybody think but what we was + after it; and I should want it pootty well undastood that we wa'n't that + kind. But I don't seem to see any way of tellin' her.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the rector, with a sympathetic twinkle, “that would be + difficult.” + </p> + <p> + “It's plain to be seen,” Mrs. Claxon interposed, “that she thinks a good + deal of her money; and I d' know but what she'd think she was doin' Clem + most too much of a favor anyway. If it can't be a puffectly even thing, + all round, I d' know as I should want it to be at all.” + </p> + <p> + “You're quite right, Mrs. Claxon, quite right. But I believe Mrs. Lander + may be safely left to look out for her own interests. After all, she has + merely asked Clementina to pass the winter with her. It will be a good + opportunity for her to see something of the world; and perhaps it may + bring her the chance of placing herself in life. We have got to consider + these things with reference to a young girl.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Claxon said, “Of cou'se,” but Claxon did not assent so readily. + </p> + <p> + “I don't feel as if I should want Clem to look at it in that light. If the + chance don't come to her, I don't want she should go huntin' round for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “I thoroughly agree with you,” said the rector. “But I was thinking that + there was not only no chance worthy of her in Middlemount, but there is no + chance at all.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess that's so,” Claxon owned with a laugh. “Well, I guess we can + leave it to Clem to do what's right and proper everyway. As you say, she's + got lots of sense.” + </p> + <p> + From that moment he emptied his mind of care concerning the matter; but + husband and wife are never both quite free of care on the same point of + common interest, and Mrs. Claxon assumed more and more of the anxieties + which he had abandoned. She fretted under the load, and expressed an + exasperated tenderness for Clementina when the girl seemed forgetful of + any of the little steps to be taken before the great one in getting her + clothes ready for leaving home. She said finally that she presumed they + were doing a wild thing, and that it looked crazier and crazier the more + she thought of it; but all was, if Clem didn't like, she could come home. + By this time her husband was in something of that insensate eagerness to + have the affair over that people feel in a house where there is a funeral. + </p> + <p> + At the station, when Clementina started for Boston with Mrs. Lander, her + father and mother, with the rector and his wife, came to see her off. + Other friends mistakenly made themselves of the party, and kept her + talking vacuities when her heart was full, till the train drew up. Her + father went with her into the parlor car, where the porter of the + Middlemount House set down Mrs. Lander's hand baggage and took the final + fee she thrust upon him. When Claxon came out he was not so satisfactory + about the car as he might have been to his wife, who had never been inside + a parlor car, and who had remained proudly in the background, where she + could not see into it from the outside. He said that he had felt so bad + about Clem that he did not notice what the car was like. But he was able + to report that she looked as well as any of the folks in it, and that, if + there were any better dressed, he did not see them. He owned that she + cried some, when he said good-bye to her. + </p> + <p> + “I guess,” said his wife, grimly, “we're a passel o' fools to let her go. + Even if she don't like, the'a, with that crazy-head, she won't be the same + Clem when she comes back.” + </p> + <p> + They were too heavy-hearted to dispute much, and were mostly silent as + they drove home behind Claxon's self-broken colt: a creature that had + taken voluntarily to harness almost from its birth, and was an example to + its kind in sobriety and industry. + </p> + <p> + The children ran out from the house to meet them, with a story of having + seen Clem at a point in the woods where the train always slowed up before + a crossing, and where they had all gone to wait for her. She had seen them + through the car-window, and had come out on the car platform, and waved + her handkerchief, as she passed, and called something to them, but they + could not hear what it was, they were all cheering so. + </p> + <p> + At this their mother broke down, and went crying into the house. Not to + have had the last words of the child whom she should never see the same + again if she ever saw her at all, was more, she said, than heart could + bear. + </p> + <p> + The rector's wife arrived home with her husband in a mood of mounting + hopefulness, which soared to tops commanding a view of perhaps more of + this world's kingdoms than a clergyman's wife ought ever to see, even for + another. She decided that Clementina's chances of making a splendid match, + somewhere, were about of the nature of certainties, and she contended that + she would adorn any station, with experience, and with her native tact, + especially if it were a very high station in Europe, where Mrs. Lander + would now be sure to take her. If she did not take her to Europe, however, + she would be sure to leave her all her money, and this would serve the + same end, though more indirectly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Richling scoffed at this ideal of Clementina's future with a contempt + which was as little becoming to his cloth. He made his wife reflect that, + with all her inherent grace and charm, Clementina was an ignorant little + country girl, who had neither the hardness of heart nor the greediness of + soul, which gets people on in the world, and repair for them the + disadvantages of birth and education. He represented that even if + favorable chances for success in society showed themselves to the girl, + the intense and inexpugnable vulgarity of Mrs. Lander would spoil them; + and he was glad of this, he said, for he believed that the best thing + which could happen to the child would be to come home as sweet and good as + she had gone away; he added this was what they ought both to pray for. + </p> + <p> + His wife admitted this, but she retorted by asking if he thought such a + thing was possible, and he was obliged to own that it was not possible. He + marred the effect of his concession by subjoining that it was no more + possible than her making a brilliant and triumphant social figure in + society, either at home or in Europe. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. + </h2> + <p> + So far from embarking at once for Europe, Mrs. Lander went to that hotel + in a suburb of Boston, where she had the habit of passing the late autumn + months, in order to fortify herself for the climate of the early winter + months in the city. She was a little puzzled how to provide for + Clementina, with respect to herself, but she decided that the best thing + would be to have her sleep in a room opening out of her own, with a + folding bed in it, so that it could be used as a sort of parlor for both + of them during the day, and be within easy reach, for conversation, at all + times. + </p> + <p> + On her part, Clementina began by looking after Mrs. Lander's comforts, + large and little, like a daughter, to her own conception and to that of + Mrs. Lander, but to other eyes, like a servant. Mrs. Lander shyly shrank + from acquaintance among the other ladies, and in the absence of this, she + could not introduce Clementina, who went down to an early breakfast alone, + and sat apart with her at lunch and dinner, ministering to her in public + as she did in private. She ran back to their rooms to fetch her shawl, or + her handkerchief, or whichever drops or powders she happened to be taking + with her meals, and adjusted with closer care the hassock which the head + waiter had officially placed at her feet. They seldom sat in the parlor + where the ladies met, after dinner; they talked only to each other; and + there, as elsewhere, the girl kept her filial care of the old woman. The + question of her relation to Mrs. Lander became so pressing among several + of the guests that, after Clementina had watched over the banisters, with + throbbing heart and feet, a little dance one night which the other girls + had got up among themselves, and had fled back to her room at the approach + of one of the kindlier and bolder of them, the landlord felt forced to + learn from Mrs. Lander how Miss Claxon was to be regarded. He managed + delicately, by saying he would give the Sunday paper she had ordered to + her nurse, “Or, I beg your pardon,” he added, as if he had made a mistake. + “Why, she a'n't my nuhse,” Mrs. Lander explained, simply, neither annoyed + nor amused; “she's just a young lady that's visiting me, as you may say,” + and this put an end to the misgiving among the ladies. But it suggested + something to Mrs. Lander, and a few days afterwards, when they came out + from Boston where they had been shopping, and she had been lavishing a + bewildering waste of gloves, hats, shoes, capes and gowns upon Clementina, + she said, “I'll tell you what. We've got to have a maid.” + </p> + <p> + “A maid?” cried the girl. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't me, or my things I want her for,” said Mrs. Lander. “It's you + and these dresses of youas. I presume you could look afta them, come to + give youa mind to it; but I don't want to have you tied up to a lot of + clothes; and I presume we should find her a comfo't in moa ways than one, + both of us. I don't know what we shall want her to do, exactly; but I + guess she will, if she undastands her business, and I want you should go + in with me, to-morror, and find one. I'll speak to some of the ladies, and + find out whe's the best place to go, and we'll get the best there is.” + </p> + <p> + A lady whom Mrs. Lander spoke to entered into the affair with zeal born of + a lurking sense of the wrong she had helped do Clementina in the common + doubt whether she was not herself Mrs. Lander's maid. She offered to go + into Boston with them to an intelligence office, where you could get nice + girls of all kinds; but she ended by giving Mrs. Lander the address, and + instructions as to what she was to require in a maid. She was chiefly to + get an English maid, if at all possible, for the qualifications would more + or less naturally follow from her nationality. There proved to be no + English maid, but there was a Swedish one who had received a rigid + training in an English family living on the Continent, and had come + immediately from that service to seek her first place in America. The + manager of the office pronounced her character, as set down in writing, + faultless, and Mrs. Lander engaged her. “You want to look afta this young + lady,” she said, indicating Clementina. “I can look afta myself,” but + Ellida took charge of them both on the train out from Boston with prompt + intelligence. + </p> + <p> + “We got to get used to it, I guess,” Mrs. Lander confided at the first + chance of whispering to Clementina. + </p> + <p> + Within a month after washing the faces and combing the hair of all her + brothers and sisters who would suffer it at her hands, Clementina's own + head was under the brush of a lady's maid, who was of as great a + discreetness in her own way as Clementina herself. She supplied the + defects of Mrs. Lander's elementary habits by simply asking if she should + get this thing and that thing for the toilet, without criticising its + absence,—and then asking whether she should get the same things for + her young lady. She appeared to let Mrs. Lander decide between having her + brushes in ivory or silver, but there was really no choice for her, and + they came in silver. She knew not only her own place, but the places of + her two ladies, and she presently had them in such training that they were + as proficient in what they might and might not do for themselves and for + each other, as if making these distinctions were the custom of their + lives. + </p> + <p> + Their hearts would both have gone out to Ellida, but Ellida kept them at a + distance with the smooth respectfulness of the iron hand in the glove of + velvet; and Clementina first learned from her to imagine the impassable + gulf between mistress and maid. + </p> + <p> + At the end of her month she gave them, out of a clear sky, a week's + warning. She professed no grievance, and was not moved by Mrs. Lander's + appeal to say what wages she wanted. She would only say that she was going + to take a place an Commonwealth Avenue, where a friend of hers was living, + and when the week was up, she went, and left her late mistresses feeling + rather blank. “I presume we shall have to get anotha,” said Mrs. Lander. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not right away!” Clementina pleaded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, not right away,” Mrs. Lander assented; and provisionally they each + took the other into her keeping, and were much freer and happier together. + </p> + <p> + Soon after Clementina was startled one morning, as she was going in to + breakfast, by seeing Mr. Fane at the clerk's desk. He did not see her; he + was looking down at the hotel register, to compute the bill of a departing + guest; but when she passed out she found him watching for her, with some + letters. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know you were with us,” he said, with his pensive smile, “till I + found your letters here, addressed to Mrs. Lander's care; and then I put + two and two together. It only shows how small the world is, don't you + think so? I've just got back from my vacation; I prefer to take it in the + fall of the year, because it's so much pleasanter to travel, then. I + suppose you didn't know I was here?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn't,” said Clementina. “I never dreamed of such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure; why should you?” Fane reflected. “I've been here ever since + last spring. But I'll say this, Miss Claxon, that if it's the least + unpleasant to you, or the least disagreeable, or awakens any kind of + associations—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” Clementina protested, and Fane was spared the pain of saying + what he would do if it were. + </p> + <p> + He bowed, and she said sweetly, “It's pleasant to meet any one I've seen + before. I suppose you don't know how much it's changed at Middlemount + since you we' e thea.” Fane answered blankly, while he felt in his breast + pocket, Oh, he presumed so; and she added: “Ha'dly any of the same guests + came back this summer, and they had more in July than they had in August, + Mrs. Atwell said. Mr. Mahtin, the chef, is gone, and newly all the help is + different.” + </p> + <p> + Fane kept feeling in one pocket and then slapped himself over the other + pockets. “No,” he said, “I haven't got it with me. I must have left it in + my room. I just received a letter from Frank—Mr. Gregory, you know, + I always call him Frank—and I thought I had it with me. He was + asking about Middlemount; and I wanted to read you what he said. But I'll + find it upstairs. He's out of college, now, and he's begun his studies in + the divinity school. He's at Andover. I don't know what to make of Frank, + oftentimes,” the clerk continued, confidentially. “I tell him he's a kind + of a survival, in religion; he's so aesthetic.” It seemed to Fane that he + had not meant aesthetic, exactly, but he could not ask Clementina what the + word was. He went on to say, “He's a grand good fellow, Frank is, but he + don't make enough allowance for human nature. He's more like one of those + old fashioned orthodox. I go in for having a good time, so long as you + don't do anybody else any hurt.” + </p> + <p> + He left her, and went to receive the commands of a lady who was leaning + over the desk, and saying severely, “My mail, if you please,” and + Clementina could not wait for him to come back; she had to go to Mrs. + Lander, and get her ready for breakfast; Ellida had taught Mrs. Lander a + luxury of helplessness in which she persisted after the maid's help was + withdrawn. + </p> + <p> + Clementina went about the whole day with the wonder what Gregory had said + about Middlemount filling her mind. It must have had something to do with + her; he could not have forgotten the words he had asked her to forget. She + remembered them now with a curiosity, which had no rancor in it, to know + why he really took them back. She had never blamed him, and she had + outlived the hurt she had felt at not hearing from him. But she had never + lost the hope of hearing from him, or rather the expectation, and now she + found that she was eager for his message; she decided that it must be + something like a message, although it could not be anything direct. No one + else had come to his place in her fancy, and she was willing to try what + they would think of each other now, to measure her own obligation to the + past by a knowledge of his. There was scarcely more than this in her heart + when she allowed herself to drift near Fane's place that night, that he + might speak to her, and tell her what Gregory had said. But he had + apparently forgotten about his letter, and only wished to talk about + himself. He wished to analyze himself, to tell her what sort of person he + was. He dealt impartially with the subject; he did not spare some faults + of his; and after a week, he proposed a correspondence with her, in a + letter of carefully studied spelling, as a means of mutual improvement as + well as further acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + It cost Clementina a good deal of trouble to answer him as she wished and + not hurt his feelings. She declined in terms she thought so cold that they + must offend him beyond the point of speaking to her again; but he sought + her out, as soon after as he could, and thanked her for her kindness, and + begged her pardon. He said he knew that she was a very busy person, with + all the lessons she was taking, and that she had no time for carrying on a + correspondence. He regretted that he could not write French, because then + the correspondence would have been good practice for her. Clementina had + begun taking French lessons, of a teacher who came out from Boston. She + lunched three times a week with her and Mrs. Lander, and spoke the + language with Clementina, whose accent she praised for its purity; purity + of accent was characteristic of all this lady's pupils; but what was + really extraordinary in Mademoiselle Claxon was her sense of grammatical + structure; she wrote the language even more perfectly than she spoke it; + but beautifully, but wonderfully; her exercises were something marvellous. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander would have liked Clementina to take all the lessons that she + heard any of the other young ladies in the hotel were taking. One of them + went in town every day, and studied drawing at an art-school, and she + wanted Clementina to do that, too. But Clementina would not do that; she + had tried often enough at home, when her brother Jim was drawing, and her + father was designing the patterns of his woodwork; she knew that she never + could do it, and the time would be wasted. She decided against piano + lessons and singing lessons, too; she did not care for either, and she + pleaded that it would be a waste to study them; but she suggested dancing + lessons, and her gift for dancing won greater praise, and perhaps + sincerer, than her accent won from Mademoiselle Blanc, though Mrs. Lander + said that she would not have believed any one could be more complimentary. + She learned the new steps and figures in all the fashionable dances; she + mastered some fancy dances, which society was then beginning to borrow + from the stage; and she gave these before Mrs. Lander with a success which + she felt herself. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I could teach dancing,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you won't eve' haf to, child,” returned Mrs. Lander, with an eye on + the side of the case that seldom escaped her. + </p> + <p> + In spite of his wish to respect these preoccupations, Fane could not keep + from offering Clementina attentions, which took the form of persecution + when they changed from flowers for Mrs. Lander's table to letters for + herself. He apologized for his letters whenever he met her; but at last + one of them came to her before breakfast with a special delivery stamp + from Boston. He had withdrawn to the city to write it, and he said that if + she could not make him a favorable answer, he should not come back to + Woodlake. + </p> + <p> + She had to show this letter to Mrs. Lander, who asked: “You want he should + come back?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed! I don't want eva to see him again.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I guess you'll know how to tell him so.” + </p> + <p> + The girl went into her own room to write, and when she brought her answer + to show it to Mrs. Lander she found her in frowning thought. “I don't know + but you'll have to go back and write it all over again, Clementina,” she + said, “if you've told him not to come. I've been thinkin', if you don't + want to have anything to do with him, we betta go ouaselves.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Clementina, “that's what I've said.” + </p> + <p> + “You have? Well, the witch is in it! How came you to—” + </p> + <p> + “I just wanted to talk with you about it. But I thought maybe you'd like + to go. Or at least I should. I should like to go home, Mrs. Landa.” + </p> + <p> + “Home!” retorted Mrs. Lander. “The'e's plenty of places where you can be + safe from the fella besides home, though I'll take you back the'a this + minute if you say so. But you needn't to feel wo'ked up about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm not,” said Clementina, but with a gulp which betrayed her + nervousness. + </p> + <p> + “I did think,” Mrs. Lander went on, “that I should go into the Vonndome, + for December and January, but just as likely as not he'd come pesterin' + the'a, too, and I wouldn't go, now, if you was to give me the whole city + of Boston. Why shouldn't we go to Florida?” + </p> + <p> + When Mrs. Lander had once imagined the move, the nomadic impulse mounted + irresistably in her. She spoke of hotels in the South, where they could + renew the summer, and she mapped out a campaign which she put into instant + action so far as to advance upon New York. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Part 2. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Clementina hesitated. “I should want to be su'a, Mrs. Milray really wanted + me to go ova with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, didn't you hear her say so?” demanded Mrs. Lander. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” sighed Clementina. “Mrs. Lander, I think Mrs. Milray means what she + says, at the time, but she is one that seems to forget.” + </p> + <p> + “She thinks the wo'ld of you,” Mrs. Lander urged. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina said, “Why, of cou'se, Mrs. Landa.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, indeed!” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander said bluntly, “We can't ha'dly believe you really want us to, + Mrs. Milray.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVI. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “What did she say?” he asked Clementina, slanting the down-pulled brim of + his soft hat purblindly toward her. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina said ingenuously, “Oh, she's walking with that English + gentleman now—that lo'd.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes,” said Milray. “He's not very much to look at, I hear.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, not very much,” Clementina admitted; she did not like to talk + against people. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what you mean,” she said, stiffening with a suspicion that + he might be going to make fun of her. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I was in the room once when they came in.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you like them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—I sca'cely spoke to them—I only stayed a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to see any more of the family?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of cou'se!” Clementina was amused at his asking, but he seemed in + earnest. + </p> + <p> + “One of my sisters lives in Florence, and Mrs. Milray says you think of + going there, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Landa thought it would be a good place to spend the winter. Is it a + pleasant place?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, delightful! Do you know much about Italy?” + </p> + <p> + “Not very much, I don't believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, my sister has lived a good while in Florence. I should like to give + you a letter to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you!” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + Milray smiled at her spare acknowledgment, but inquired gravely: “What do + you expect to do in Florence?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I presume, whateva Mrs. Landa wants to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think Mrs. Lander will want to go into society?” + </p> + <p> + This question had not occurred to Clementina. “I don't believe she will,” + she said, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Shall you?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina laughed, “Why, do you think,” she ventured, “that society would + want me to?” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall wait and see if I'm asked, fust.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina smiled at her vehemence. “Why, it's nothing. And I don't know + whether I should like to.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” urged Lord Lioncourt. “Such a good cause, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” Mrs. Milray insisted. “Is it something you could do alone?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “The very thing!” Mrs. Milray shouted. “It'll be the hit of the evening.” + </p> + <p> + “But I've never done it before any one,” Clementina faltered. + </p> + <p> + “They'll all be doing their turns,” the Englishman said. “Speaking, and + singing, and playing.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina felt herself giving way, and she pleaded in final reluctance, + “But I haven't got a pleated skut in my steama trunk.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Mrs. Milray!” Clementina called after her. “The ship tilts so—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Milray whirled her Englishman away, and left Clementina sitting + beside her husband. + </p> + <p> + “Did you want to dance for them, Clementina?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” she said, with the vague smile of one to whom a pleasant + hope has occurred. + </p> + <p> + “I thought perhaps you were letting Mrs. Milray bully you into it. She's a + frightful tyrant.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I guess I should like to do it, if you think it would be—nice.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Is a pleated skirt absolutely necessary,” asked Milray, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I don't see how I could get on without it,” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess if you're worryin' about that you needn't to.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm not worrying about the dance. I was just thinking what I should + wear. If I could only get at the trunks!” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVII. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The joy of her triumph went to her head; she wished to retrieve herself + from any shadow of defeat. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Clementina, “she's over the'a.” She pointed, and then shrank + and slipped away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XVIII. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no,” she said, coldly, “I was just coming to look after Mr. Milray. + But I see he's in good hands.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Clementina,” he said, gently, “I don't see everything; but isn't there + some trouble between you and Mrs. Milray?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, those things are often very obscure,” said Milray, with a patient + smile. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. It will depend upon how Mrs. Landa feels.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 husband wished me to write for you, and give you with his + compliments.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Clementina. She rose mechanically to her feet, and at + the same time Mrs. Milray sat down. + </p> + <p> + “You will find Miss Milray,” she continued, with the same glacial hauteur, + “a very agreeable and cultivated lady.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina said nothing; and Mrs. Milray added, + </p> + <p> + “And I hope she may have the happiness of being more useful to you than I + have.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, Mrs. Milray?” Clementina asked with unexpected spirit + and courage. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Milray!” cried Clementina. “How can you say such a thing to me?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + Clementina shook her head. “I don't want it.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't want it? But I have written it at Mr. Milray's request, and I + shall certainly leave it with you!” + </p> + <p> + “If you do,” said Clementina, “I shall not take it!” + </p> + <p> + “And what shall I say to Mr. Milray?” + </p> + <p> + “What you have just said to me.” + </p> + <p> + “What have I said to you?” + </p> + <p> + “That I'm a bold girl, and that I've tried to make men admi'a me.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Milray stopped as if suddenly daunted by a fact that had not occurred + to her before. “Did I say that?” + </p> + <p> + “The same as that.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina did not answer. + </p> + <p> + 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—” + </p> + <p> + “I can't take it, Mrs. Milray,” said Clementina, with a swelling heart. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina did not lift her eyes. “I don't feel like saying anything just + now.” + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “If you want to,” Clementina coldly assented. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Milray went away in sudden tears, but the girl remained dry-eyed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIX. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XX. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the'e's plenty of time,” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “There's no hurry about it, Mrs. Lander. It will stay as long as we do.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Celementina and Mrs. Lander looked guiltily at each other. “I guess we + did,” Mrs. Lander owned at last, with a reluctant sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Then, she says you have a letter for her.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “She wants to know why you haven't delivered it,” the doctor blurted out. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander looked at Clementina. “I guess she ha'n't quite got round to + it yet, have you, Clementina?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + When he was gone, Mrs. Lander faltered, “I don't know but what we made a + mistake, Clementina.” + </p> + <p> + “It's too late to worry about it now,” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Milray's in Egypt,” Clementina suggested. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I decla'e!” cried Mrs. Lander. “That docta: must have gone straight + and told her what we said.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don't think,” asked Mrs. Lander, “that Clementina done wrong to + dance that way?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina looked at Mrs. Lander, who said, “Go, of cou'se, child. I wish + I could go, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Do come, too,” Miss Milray entreated. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I hated to leave her,” said Clementina. “I don't believe she's very + well.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't believe I shall,” said Clementina. “You can tell me what to + do.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + He told her his name, G. W. Hinkle, and asked whether she would be likely + to remember it if they ever met again. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXII. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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'?” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hope to goodness he won't come to-day, I a'n't fit to see + anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know; pretty ea'ly in the spring, I guess.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at Mrs. Lander, who said, “Well, it depends upon how I git up + my health. I couldn't bea' the voyage now.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander caught the word, and called across the room, “Why, a'n't that + whe'e that lo'd's gone?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina said yes, and while the kettle boiled, she asked if Baron + Belsky were going soon. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of that?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe that God directs our wrong actions,” said Clementina. + </p> + <p> + “How! Is there anything outside of God? + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + The Russian seemed struck. “I will write that to him!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Clementina, “I don't want you to say anything about me to him.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” said Baron Belsky, waving his band reassuringly. “I would not + mention your name!” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Then, maybe he isn't a baron at all,” said Mrs. Lander. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I believe he has a right to his title,” Ewins answered. “It's a + German one.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, don't you think it's very nice in Florence?” she asked, with eyes of + innocent interest. + </p> + <p> + “Nice! Nice! Do we live for what is nice? Is it enough that you have what + you Americans call a nice time?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “And why need you stay with her?” + </p> + <p> + “Because she's not very well,” answered Clementina, and she smiled, a + little triumphantly as well as tolerantly. + </p> + <p> + “She could hire nurses and doctors, all she wants with her money.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe it would be the same thing, exactly, and what should I do + if I went back?” + </p> + <p> + “Do? Teach! Uplift the lives about you.” + </p> + <p> + “But you say it is better for people to live simply, and not read and + think so much.” + </p> + <p> + “Then labor in the fields with them.” + </p> + <p> + Clementina laughed outright. “I guess if anyone saw me wo'king in the + fields they would think I was a disgrace to the neighbahood.” + </p> + <p> + Belsky gave her a stupified glare through his spectacles. “I cannot + understand you Americans.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, that isn't faia, Mr. Belsky, and you know it.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + Belsky made a gesture of rejection. “Oh, you are an American, too.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIII + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + The doctor interposed, “I don't think you're going to have a very bad + attack, this time, Mrs. Lander.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander protested, “Oh, I can't bea' mo'phine, docta.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever try it?” he asked, preparing his little instrument to imbibe + the solution. + </p> + <p> + “No; but Mr. Landa did, and it 'most killed him; it made him sick.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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—” + </p> + <p> + “Send for a physician, Mrs. Lander,” said Dr. Welwright, “and he'll know + what to do.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “That's good. If you'll take a walk day after tomorrow it will help you a + great deal more.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't want to go, now, Mrs. Lander; I'd ratha stay.” + </p> + <p> + “But there a'n't any more danger now, is the'e, docta?” Mrs. Lander + appealed. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina did not answer, and the doctor laughed. “Well, I should like to + know what more I could do!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you could do less. We'll see about that. Better go to sleep, now, + if you feel like it.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You could go, perfectly well, Miss Claxon,” said the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't ca'e to go,” answered Clementina. “I'd ratha stay. If she + should wake—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't hear you,” said Dr. Welwright. “A doctor has no eyes and ears + except for the symptoms of his patients.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed a great joke; and Clementina offered to carry his excuses to + Miss Milray, when she went to make her own. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Miss Milray kissed the girl in full forgiveness, but she asked, “Did Dr. + Welwright think it a very bad attack?” + </p> + <p> + “Has he been he'a?” returned Clementina. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she doesn't, Miss Milray. You mustn't think so. You don't know how + good she is to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Does she ever remind you of it?” + </p> + <p> + Clementina's eyes fell. “She isn't like herself when she doesn't feel + well.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Clementina. “Don't you think he's very nice, Miss Milray?” + </p> + <p> + “He's very mystical, or else so very simple that he seems so. I hope you + can make him out.” + </p> + <p> + Don't you think he's very much in ea'nest? + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as the grave, or the asylum. I shouldn't like him to be in earnest + about me, if I were you.” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “There's no danger of that, I guess.” Clementina laughed, and Miss Milray + went on: + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; Mr. Hinkle,” cried Clementina with the smile that the thought of + him always brought. “He's lovely.” + </p> + <p> + “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!” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you're right, Mrs. Lander.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I have come to tell you a strange story,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + He turned upon his heel, and walked the length of the room and back before + he spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Again he stopped in front of Clementina; she looked helplessly up at him, + and he resumed his walk. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXIV. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm not going to Rome,” said Hinkle, easily. “Are you?” + </p> + <p> + “I was to meet a friend there; but he wrote to me that he was starting to + Florence, and now—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “He can, if he isn't in a hurry,” Hinkle assented. + </p> + <p> + “It's a good way, if you've got time to burn.” + </p> + <p> + 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? + </p> + <p> + “I guess they are.” + </p> + <p> + “It was said they were going to Venice for the summer.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what the doctor advised for the old lady. But they don't start for + a week or two yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you going to Miss Milray's, Sunday night? Last of the season, I + believe.” + </p> + <p> + Belsky seemed to recall himself from a distance. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “You are not well,” he said, as they shook hands. “You are fevered!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm tired,” said Gregory. “We've bad a bad time getting through.” + </p> + <p> + “I come inconveniently! You have not dined, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Yes. I've had dinner. Sit down. How have you been yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, always well.” Belsky sat down, and the friends stared at each other. + “I have strange news for you.” + </p> + <p> + “For me?” + </p> + <p> + “You. She is here.” + </p> + <p> + “She?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” demanded Gregory. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “You said nothing about it in your letters. You—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory tried to speak, but he let Belsky go on. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” asked Gregory, in an anguish for what he now dreaded, “you + haven't spoken to her of me?” + </p> + <p> + “Not by name, no. I could not have that indiscretion—” + </p> + <p> + “The name is nothing. Have you said that you knew me—Of course not! + But have you hinted at any knowledge—Because—” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” Gregory took his head between his hands. “You have spoiled my life!” + </p> + <p> + “Spoiled” Belsky stopped aghast. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “But I do not understand!” Belsky began. “If I have committed an error—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, an error that never could be put right in all eternity!” + </p> + <p> + “Then let me go to her—let me tell her—” + </p> + <p> + “Keep away from her!” shouted Gregory. “Do you hear? Never go near her + again!” + </p> + <p> + “Gregory!” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXV. + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I have come to speak to you about—that—Russian, about Baron + Belsky—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” she returned, anxiously. “Then you have hea'd” + </p> + <p> + “He came to me last night, and—I want to say that I feel myself to + blame for what he has done.” + </p> + <p> + “You?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” she returned, with the effect of putting his words aside as + something of no moment. “Have they head anything more?” + </p> + <p> + “How, anything more?” he returned, in a daze. + </p> + <p> + “Then, don't you know? About his falling into the river? I know he didn't + drown himself.” + </p> + <p> + Gregory shook his head. “When—what makes them think”—He + stopped and stared at her. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Neither spoke for a time that seemed long, and then it was Clementina who + spoke. “But it isn't true!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, it is,” said Gregory, as before. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hinkle doesn't believe it is,” she urged. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hinkle?” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “What does it matter?” demanded Gregory, lifting his heavy eyes. “Whether + he meant it or not, I caused it. I drove him to it.” + </p> + <p> + “You drove him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He told me what he had said to you, and I—said that he had + spoiled my life—I don't know!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he had no right to do it; but I didn't blame you,” Clementina + began, compassionately. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't go!” she interposed. “I don't believe you made him do it. Mr. + Hinkle will be back soon, and he will—” + </p> + <p> + “If he should bring word that it was true?” Gregory asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Clementina, “then we should have to bear it.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't send up my name; I thought I wouldn't stand upon ceremony just + now,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” she returned. “Mr. Hinkle, this is Mr. Gregory. Mr. Gregory knew + Mr. Belsky, and he thinks—” + </p> + <p> + 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—” + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + Gregory commanded himself from his misery to say, “I wish I could believe—I + mean—” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “May I—do you object to my joining you?” Gregory asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, come!” Hinkle hospitably assented. “Glad to have you. I'll be back + again, Miss Clementina!” + </p> + <p> + Gregory was going away without any form of leavetaking; but he turned back + to ask, “Will you let me come back, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, suttainly, Mr. Gregory,” said Clementina, and she went to find Mrs. + Lander, whom she found in bed. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Mr. Hinkle has just been he'a, but he hadn't any news.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Gregory?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Don't you remember? At the Middlemount? The first summa? He was the + headwaita—that student.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Lander jerked her head round on the pillow. “Well, of all the—What + does he want, over he'a?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. That is—he's travelling with a pupil that he's preparing + for college, and—he came to see us—” + </p> + <p> + “D'you tell him I couldn't see him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + Maddalena entered the room with a card which she gave to the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it?” Mrs. Lander demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Milray.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Milray,” said the girl, “should you think me very silly, if I told + you something—silly?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in the least!” cried Miss Milray, joyously. “It's the final proof of + your wisdom that I've been waiting for?” + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + “And he's been in Egypt?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the whole winta.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he's the one that my sister-in-law has been writing me about!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, did he meet her the'a?” + </p> + <p> + “I should think so! And he'll meet her <i>here</i>, 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.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you think,” Clementina entreated, “that he was to blame?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't believe he's done it, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I didn't mean Mr. Belsky. I meant—Mr. Gregory. For telling Mr. + Belsky?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not. Men always tell those things to some one, I suppose. + Nobody was to blame but Belsky, for his meddling.” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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—” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “I guess he feels it moa than I do,” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + “He shows his feeling more?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—no—He believes he drove him to it.” + </p> + <p> + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no. Nothing. Do you think,” she hesitated, appealingly, “do you think + we are—engaged?” + </p> + <p> + “If he's anything of a man at all, he must think he is.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Clementina, wistfully, “I guess he does.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Milray looked sharply at her. “And does he think you are?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know—he didn't say.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Miss Milray, rather dryly, “then it's something for you to + think over pretty carefully.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XXVI. + </h2> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <p> + “Deny report of my death. Have written. + </p> + <p> + “Belsky.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + He took the dispatch from her hand. “I brought it to you as soon as it + came.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes, yes! Of cou'se!” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, yes, I knew that,” said Clementina, in the pause he made. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “I thought he was beginning to, once; but he neva did.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, I know that, Mr. Gregory,” said Clementina, generously. + </p> + + <p> + “Then you didn't doubt me, in spite of all?” + </p> + + <p> + “I thought you would know what to do. No, I didn't doubt you, exactly.” + </p> + + <p> + “I didn't deserve your trust!” he cried. “How came that man to mention + me?” he demanded, abruptly, after a moment's silence. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “From the conscientiousness?” he asked, in bitter self-irony. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, if he's only alive, now, there is no harm!” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “I didn't mean that,” she hesitated. + </p> + + <p> + “You know that I love you,—that I have always loved you?” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, I always believed what you said, Mr. Gregory.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina paused, with her head seriously on one side. “I should want to + think about it before I said anything.” + </p> + + <p> + “You are right,” he submitted, dropping his outstretched arms to his side. + “I have been thinking only of myself, as usual.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, thank you!” she cried after him, gratefully, as if his forbearance + were the greatest favor. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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!” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina's head drooped a little, but she answered distinctly, “I do + ca'e, Mr. Gregory.” + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + He stopped; the time had come for her to speak, and she said, “I knew you + wanted to be a missionary—” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0243}.jpg" alt="{0243}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0243}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't believe I quite undastand,” she faltered. + </p> + + <p> + “You must not do it for me, but for what makes me do it. Without that our + life, our work, could have no consecration.” + </p> + + <p> + She gazed at him in patient, faintly smiling bewilderment, as if it were + something he would unriddle for her when he chose. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “I—I don't know,” she hesitated. “I will, but—do you think I + had betta?” + </p> + + <p> + He began, “Why, surely”—After a moment he asked gravely, “You + believe that our actions will be guided aright, if we seek help?” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, yes—yes—” + </p> + + <p> + “And that if we do not, we shall stumble in our ignorance?” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't know. I never thought of that.” + </p> + + <p> + “Never thought of it—” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “No, no! You must say what you believe. It would be double hypocrisy in me + if I prevented you.” + </p> + + <p> + “But I would do it, if you wanted me to,” she said. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXVII. + </h2> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 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.” + </pre> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” he said, and he put his arms around her, but with a provisionality + in his embrace which she subtly perceived. + </p> + + <p> + “And what did you think of it?” she asked. “Did you think I was silly?” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Clementina,” he entreated, “why do you think you are not religious?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “But—you believe in God?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, certainly!” + </p> + + <p> + “And in the Bible?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, of cou'se!” + </p> + + <p> + “And that it is our duty to bear the truth to those who have never heard + of it?” + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, I should try to believe everything that you do, of cou'se.” + </p> + + <p> + “Because I do?” + </p> + + <p> + “Well—yes.” + </p> + + <p> + “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: + </p> + + <p> + “Yes, but I believe it would all come back to just where it is, now.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina could only say, “Perhaps if He meant me to do it for Him, He + would have made me want to. He made you.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “No, indeed!” cried Clementina, with abhorrence. “Then I should despise + you.” + </p> + + <p> + He seemed not to heed her. He moved his lips as if he were talking to + himself, and he pleaded, “What shall we do?” + </p> + + <p> + “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!” + </p> + + <p> + “Do you mean, we must part? Not see each other again?” + </p> + + <p> + “What use would it be?” + </p> + + <p> + “None,” he owned. She had risen, and he stood up perforce. “May I—may + I come back to tell you?” + </p> + + <p> + “Tell me what?” she asked. + </p> + + <p> + “You are right! If I can't make it right, I won't come. But I won't say + good bye. I—can't.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + He suggested, “How would you like to try the sea air, and the baths—at + Venice?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + The doctor looked compassionately away from the girl, and said, “Well, we + must arrange about getting you off, then.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + The doctor said gravely he thought he could manage it and he ignored the + long unconscious sigh of relief that Clementina drew. + </p> + + <p> + 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: + </p> + +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “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.” + </pre> + + <p> + 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: + </p> + +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I believe you are doing the best you can, and I shall always + believe that.” + </pre> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + Clementina was trying to make what she could of this when Miss Milray's + name came up, and Miss Milray followed it. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Perhaps I wasn't worth stealing,” Clementina suggested, with a ruefulness + in her smile that went to Miss Milray's heart. + </p> + + <p> + She put her arms round her and kissed her. “I wasn't very kind to you, the + other day, Clementina, was I?” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't know,” Clementina faltered, with half-averted face. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “We ah' trying to think so,” sighed the girl. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, certainly, Miss Milray!” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, do you look at it that way, Miss Milray? If he was doing it on my + account?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I presume he thought that it would come right, sometime,” Clementina + urged. “I did.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't believe he meant to be cruel, Miss Milray,” said Clementina. + </p> + + <p> + “You're not sorry you've broken with him?” demanded Miss Milray, severely, + and she let go of Clementina's hands. + </p> + + <p> + “I shouldn't want him to think I hadn't been fai'a.” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't understand what you mean by not being fair,” said Miss Milray, + after a study of the girl's eyes. + </p> + + <p> + “I mean,” Clementina explained, “that if I let him think the religion was + all the'e was, it wouldn't have been fai'a.” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, weren't you sincere about that?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Then you can't tell me, of course?” Miss Milray rose in a little pique. + </p> + + <p> + “Perhaps some day I will,” the girl entreated. “And perhaps that was all.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXVIII. + </h2> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “I think I can,” said Clementina, not very courageously, but patiently. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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? + </p> + + <p> + She thought so, oh, yes; she never could have the home-feeling at Venice + that she had at Florence. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, what do you mean, Dr. Welwright?” asked Clementina, with a vague + laugh. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “No; but I never thought of such a thing.” + </p> + + <p> + “Perhaps you will think of it now.” + </p> + + <p> + “But you're not in ea'nest!” + </p> + + <p> + “I'm thoroughly in earnest,” said the doctor, and he seemed very much + amused at her incredulity. + </p> + + <p> + “Then; I'm sorry,” she answered. “I couldn't.” + </p> + + <p> + “No?” he said, still with amusement, or with a courage that took that + form. “Why not?” + </p> + + <p> + “Because I am—not free.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't know,” said Clementina, candidly. “I never thought of it.” + </p> + + <p> + “It isn't because you disliked me?” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, no!” + </p> + + <p> + “Then I must get what comfort I can out of that. I hope, with all my + heart, that you may be happy.” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, Dr. Welwright!” said Clementina. “Don't you suppose that I should be + glad to do it, if I could? Any one would!” + </p> + + <p> + “It doesn't seem very probable, just now,” he answered, humbly. “But I'll + believe it if you say so.” + </p> + + <p> + “I do say so, and I always shall.” + </p> + + <p> + “Thank you.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes, I will, Dr. Welwright.” + </p> + + <p> + “People will be going away soon, and I shall not be so busy. I can come + back if Dr. Tradonico thinks it necessary.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, indeed, the docta thinks she wants a little lookin' after, too,” said + Mrs. Lander. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “She's looking fine, doesn't the doctor think? This air will do everything + for her.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, yes; she's a great deal betta than she was befo'e we came.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina laughed. “I don't believe we've got any. I guess it's all + grass.” + </p> + + <p> + “I wish you could see our country out there, once.” + </p> + + <p> + “Is it nice?” + </p> + + <p> + “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!'” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “It must be lovely. But I don't expect to go West, eva.” + </p> + + <p> + “I like your Eastern way of saying everr,” said Hinkle, and he said it in + his Western way. “I like New England folks.” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina smiled discreetly. “They have their faults like everybody else, + I presume.” + </p> + + <p> + “Ah, that's a regular Yankee word: presume,” said Hinkle. “Our teacher, my + first one, always said presume. She was from your State, too.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXIX. + </h2> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “This won't do. I've got to have something else—something lighter + and warma.” + </p> + + <p> + “I can't go back any moa, Mrs. Landa,” cried the girl, from the + exasperation of her own nerves. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “She's all right, now,” he ventured to say, tentatively. + </p> + + <p> + “Is she?” Clementina coldly answered. + </p> + + <p> + In spite of her repellent air, he persisted, “She's a pretty sick woman, + isn't she?” + </p> + + <p> + “The docta doesn't say.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well, I think it would be safe to act on that supposition. Miss + Clementina—I think she wants to see you.” + </p> + + <p> + “I'm going to her directly.” + </p> + + <p> + Hinkle paused, rather daunted. “She wants me to go for the doctor.” + </p> + + <p> + “She's always wanting the docta.” Clementina lifted her eyes and looked + very coldly at him. + </p> + + <p> + “If I were you I'd go up right away,” he said, boldly. + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “No.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Mr. Hinkle has gone for the docta,” said Clementina, trying to get into + her voice the kindness she was trying to feel. + </p> + + <p> + “Well, if I have one of my attacks, now, you'll have yourself to thank for + it.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, no,” the girl answered, wearily. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't know. What relations?” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, of cou'se not, Mrs. Lander. It wouldn't be right at all.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Why by Mrs. Landa,” said the girl, “Why don't you give it all to them?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, no,” she answered. “I was glad you did.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, I will, Mr. Hinkle,” Clementina promised, gayly. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “What direction?” she added, with a flush of sudden alarm. + </p> + + <p> + “Mrs. Lander.” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, suttainly!” she answered, in quick relief. + </p> + + <p> + “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!” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, if you want to so very much.” + </p> + + <p> + “Then it's settled,” he said, dismissing the subject. + </p> + + <p> + But she recurred to it with a lingering compunction. + </p> + + <p> + “I presume that I don't remember how sick she is because I've neva been + sick at all, myself.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Are you spoiled?” she asked. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Is she religious?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “And do you belong to her church?” + </p> + + <p> + “No,” said the young man. “I wish I did, for her sake. I don't belong to + any. Do you?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + He asked, after a moment, in a fresh beginning, “Have you heard from Miss + Milray since you left Florence?” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, yes, didn't I tell you? She's coming here in June.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well, she won't have the pleasure of seeing me, then. I'm going the last + of May.” + </p> + + <p> + “I thought you were going to stay a month!” she protested. + </p> + + <p> + “That will be a month; and more, too.” + </p> + + <p> + “So it will,” she owned. + </p> + + <p> + “I'm glad it doesn't seem any longer—say a year—Miss Clementina!” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, not at all,” she returned. “Miss Milray's brother and his wife are + coming with her. They've been in Egypt.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXX. + </h2> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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'.” + </p> + + <p> + “Ca'eful?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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!” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “No,” she said, with a nervous start. “What makes you ask?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0277}.jpg" alt="{0277}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0277}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + 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—” + </p> + + <p> + “He is,” she made herself answer. + </p> + + <p> + “I didn't mean anything against him. I hope you don't think I wanted to be + unfair?” + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + She stopped and she saw that she need not say more. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + His pleading looks entreated her even more than his words. + </p> + + <p> + “There was something,” she answered, “with him.” + </p> + + <p> + “And I mustn't know what,” the young man said patiently. + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “How could you? You couldn't. I haven't anything more to say, if you are + bound to him.” + </p> + + <p> + “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!” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, I understand!” he returned, listlessly. + </p> + + <p> + “And do you blame me for not telling before?” She made an involuntary + movement toward him, a pathetic gesture which both entreated and + compassionated. + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, she isn't up yet, Mr. Hinkle.” Clementina put all her pain for him + into the expression of their regret. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + When he was gone, Clementina went into Mrs. Lander's room, and gave her + his message. + </p> + + <p> + “Couldn't he have come back this aftanoon to see me, if he ain't goin' + till five?” she demanded jealously. + </p> + + <p> + “He said he couldn't come back,” Clementina answered sadly. + </p> + + <p> + The woman turned her head on her pillow and looked at the girl's face. + “Oh!” she said for all comment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXXI. + </h2> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “She neva said anything against you, Mrs. Milray,” Clementina answered. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” Clementina answered briefly. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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!” + </p> + + <p> + “Thank you,” said Mrs. Milray, “I'll try not to,” and she laughed. “But I + should like to do something to prove my repentance.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't think she's very sick, now,” retorted her friend. + </p> + + <p> + “No; that's the reason she's so worrying. When she's really sick, she's + betta.” + </p> + + <p> + “Because she's frightened, I suppose. And how long do you propose to stand + it? + </p> + + <p> + “I don't know,” Clementina listlessly answered. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray sat looking at the girl a moment. + </p> + + <p> + “Shall you be glad to go home?” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh yes, indeed!” + </p> + + <p> + “To that place in the woods?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, yes! What makes you ask?” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0006}.jpg" alt="{0006}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0006}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + The girl sighed. “Yes, I think that's all very nice I did ca'e, one while, + there in Florence, last winter!” + </p> + + <p> + “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!” + </p> + + <p> + “I shouldn't call it being lost, Miss Milray.” + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I never could have imagined that of you, Clementina!” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “No, no! We understand each other. Go on!” + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray leaned towards her and pressed the girl's arm reassuringly. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray did not speak for a time. “I know that you are serious, + Clementina; and you're wise always, and good—” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + Clementina pursued, “I know that you have had all you wanted of the wo'ld—” + </p> + + <p> + “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!” + </p> + + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Then, give the whole world for it, child!” + </p> + + <p> + “There is something I should like to tell you.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes!” + </p> + + <p> + “For you to advise me about.” + </p> + + <p> + “I will, my dear, gladly and truly!” + </p> + + <p> + “He was here before you came. He asked me—” + </p> + + <p> + 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—” + </p> + + <p> + “No; he was here the whole of May.” + </p> + + <p> + “Mr. Gregory!” + </p> + + <p> + “Mr. Gregory?” Clementina's face flushed and drooped Still lower. “I meant + Mr. Hinkle. But if you think I oughtn't—” + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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—” + </p> + + <p> + The letter ended here in the local addresses which the writer gave. + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray handed the leaves back to Clementina, who put them into her + pocket, and apparently waited for her questions. + </p> + + <p> + “And have you written?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “And why did you want to wait?” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina replied with a question of her own. “Miss Milray, what do you + think about Mr. Gregory?” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, you mustn't ask me that, my dear! I was afraid I had told you too + plainly, the last time.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well, if you put me on my honor, I'm afraid I do.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “No—no.” + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “Ask me anything you like, my dear!” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, it's only whether a person ought eva to change.” + </p> + + <p> + “We change whether we ought, or not. It isn't a matter of duty, one way or + another.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Do you truly think so?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “What had begun?” + </p> + + <p> + “About Mr. Hinkle.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina sighed. “Oh, I don't know. He's so resting.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “What good would that do?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, then I should know.” + </p> + + <p> + “Know what?” + </p> + + <p> + “Whether I didn't really ca'e for him any more—or so much.” + </p> + + <p> + “Clementina,” said Miss Milray, “you mustn't make me lose patience with + you—” + </p> + + <p> + “No. But I thought you said that it was my duty to do what I wished.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well, yes. That is what I said,” Miss Milray consented. “But I supposed + that you knew already.” + </p> + + <p> + “No,” said Clementina, candidly, “I don't believe I do.” + </p> + + <p> + “And what if you don't see him?” + </p> + + <p> + “I guess I shall have to wait till I do. The'e will be time enough.” + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray sighed, and then she laughed. “You ARE young!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXXII. + </h2> + + <p> + Miss Milray went from Clementina to call upon her sister-in-law, and found + her brother, which was perhaps what she hoped might happen. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “You wish me to infer the Mrs. Lander—Clementina situation?” Milray + returned. + </p> + + <p> + “Yes!” + </p> + + <p> + “I'm glad you put it in terms that are not actionable, then; for your + words are decidedly libellous.” + </p> + + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I can't believe it!” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I wish they might!” said Miss Milray, with an impassioned sigh. “Then + perhaps I should get Clementina—for a while.” + </p> + + <p> + Her brother laughed. “Isn't there somebody else wants Clementina? + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, plenty. But she's not sure she wants anybody else.” + </p> + + <p> + “Does she want you?” + </p> + + <p> + “No, I can't say she does. She wants to go home.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “What would any one have done with her? Married her brilliantly, of + course.” + </p> + + <p> + “But you say she isn't sure she wishes to be married at all?” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + Milray laughed. “I don't know. I thought she would amuse you, and I + thought it would be a pleasure to her.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Do you mean her leaving me her money?” asked Clementina, with that + boldness her sex enjoys concerning matters of finance and affection. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “That is what I thought, too,” Clementina replied. + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, then you did think—” + </p> + + <p> + “But afterwards, I changed my Mind. If she wants to give me her money I + shall take it.” + </p> + + <p> + Gregory was blankly silent again. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Changed?” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “But if you believe in me—” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Free?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXXIII. + </h2> + + <p> + Clementina told Miss Milray what had happened, but with Mrs. Milray the + girl left the sudden departure of Gregory to account for itself. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina laughed. “Why, Mrs. Landa, Lo'd Lioncou't never thought of me + in the wo'ld!” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + She looked at Clementina with recurring grudge, and the girl could not + bear it. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes, and what would folks say, afta youa taken' care of me?” + </p> + + <p> + “Do you think I do it fo' that?” + </p> + + <p> + “What do you do it fo'?” + </p> + + <p> + “What did you want me to come with you fo'?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I suppose you think you don't need me any moa! Betta not be too su'a.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “You can talk it ova with the vice-consul,” paid Clementina, at random. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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 hhe 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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: + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Why,” the vice-consul pleaded, “it's only about forty francs for the + whole thing—” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + The vice-consul laughed unresentfully. “Well, shall I send you a lawyer?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, yes, she's not fit to go. She must stay, now, till it's coola. Will + you tell the landlo'd, or shall—” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXXIV. + </h2> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “No. She neva told me; she wouldn't; she didn't like to talk about them; I + don't even know their names.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” said Clementina. “She left them five thousand dollas apiece. She + said she wished she had made it ten.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “Well, that's what I thought they ought to do,” said Clementina. + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “You didn't want it?” + </p> + + <p> + “No.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “That's the only thing we could do, I presume.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Why, keep them! returned the vice-consul on the spur of his surprise. + </p> + + <p> + “I don't know as I should have any right to,” said Clementina. “They were + hers.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “I think,” she said, “I will stay in Venice awhile.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Why, yes,” she returned. “I should like to stay on in the house here, if + you could speak for me to the padrone.” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't see why you shouldn't, if we can make the padrone understand it's + different.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “I guess you hate it almost as much as I do, Mr. Bennam.” + </p> + + <p> + “I guess I do. I've half a mind to write the letter you want, myself.” + </p> + + <p> + “I've half a mind to let you—or the letter I'd like to write.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0325}.jpg" alt="{0325}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0325}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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: + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “Vice-consul,” the dignitary interrupted with an effect of rejecting any + part in the affair. + </p> + + <p> + “Vice-consul, I should say,—and I wish to lay them both before you, + in order that—” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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: + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, that is not necessary,” said Clementina, politely, witless of the + disastrous quality of the facts which Mr. Orson was imparting. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina looked with smiling innocence at the vice-consul. + </p> + + <p> + “That is to say,” he explained, “there won't be anything at all for you, + Miss Claxon.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXXV. + </h2> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't think she was herself, some of the time,” Clementina assented in + acceptance of the kindly construction. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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!” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, Mr. Orson!” she began, and he seemed to think she wished to withdraw + her offer of help, for he interposed. + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, don't say a wo'd!” cried Clementina, but now that he had begun he was + powerless to stop. + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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: + </p> + + <p> + “Vengo subito!” + </p> + + <p> + 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: + </p> + + <p> + “That is very good coffee, I should think the genuine berry, though I am + told that they adulterate coffee a great deal in Europe.” + </p> + + <p> + “Do they?” asked Clementina. “I didn't know it.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “I should like to go back, too,” she said. “I don't see why I'm staying.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + But Clementina urged unsuspiciously: “Oh, yes, indeed! And I shall feel + better if you take it. I only wish I could go home, too!” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Would you take me?” she entreated. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes—” + </p> + + <p> + “He must have had considerable experience in cases of the kind. Would your + friends meet you in New York, or—” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + He rose upon what he must have thought her hint, and said, “I should not + wish to have him swayed against his judgment.” + </p> + + <p> + The vice-consul came not long after the minister had left her, and she + began upon what she wished to do for him. + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I should think he would be,” the vice-consul retorted in his indignation + for her. “Did you offer to pay for his passage?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well,” the vice-consul assented, dryly, “it's for you to say.” + </p> + + <p> + “I know you don't want me to do it!” + </p> + + <p> + “Well, I shall miss you,” he answered, evasively. + </p> + + <p> + “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!” + </p> + + <p> + The vice-consul laughed at the sort of imperative despair in her tone. + “How are you going? Which way, I mean.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + The vice-consul smiled. “Is that the one?” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” she whispered back. + </p> + + <p> + “All right.” He took his hat, and set it on the back of his head before he + left her without other salutation. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” she laughed, and then she suddenly lamented, “Why didn't they + telegraph?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina laughed again; in joyous recognition of the fact, “No, my fatha + wouldn't, eitha!” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + She understood. “Do you really, Mr. Bennam?” + </p> + + <p> + “I do indeed.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “No”—She had expected it though, he could see that. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXXVI. + </h2> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Clementina, patiently. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Well, it would be a kindness,” returned the vice-consul, with a + promptness that unmasked the apprehension he felt for the sick man. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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!” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, it's all right, Mr. Bennam,” said Clementina. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + At the last moment she had a question which she referred to the vice + consul. “Should you tell him?” she asked. + </p> + + <p> + “Tell who what?” he retorted. + </p> + + <p> + “Mr. Osson—that I wouldn't have stayed for him.” + </p> + + <p> + “Do you think it would make you feel any better?” asked the consul, upon + reflection. + </p> + + <p> + “I believe he ought to know.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well, then, I guess I should do it.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I supposed that the delay of a week or two could make no material + difference to you.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “I think I could relish a small portion,” said Mr. Orson, cautiously, and + he said nothing more. + </p> + + <p> + 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: + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” said Clementina, “I thought you would think so.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, don't speak of it, Mr. Osson!” she protested. “I haven't done + anything that any one wouldn't have done.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXXVII. + </h2> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “Why, fatha!” she said. “I didn't expect you to come to New Yo'k to meet + me.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + She did not heed his explanation. “We'e you sca'ed when you got my + dispatch?” + </p> + + <p> + “No, we kind of expected you'd come any time, the way you wrote afta Mrs. + Landa died. We thought something must be up.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” she said, absently. Then, “Whe'e's motha?” she asked. + </p> + + <p> + “Well, I guess she thought she couldn't get round to it, exactly,” said + the father. “She's all right. Needn't ask you!” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + He shifted his valise to the left hand, and shook hands with each, asking, + “What name?” and then fell motionless again. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “Well, I guess that would be a good idea. Want to help, Miss Hinkle?” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “Ah' you going straight home, Mr. Osson?” she asked, to rescue him from + the forgetfulness into which they were all letting him fall. + </p> + + <p> + “I think I will remain over a day,” he answered. “I may go on to Boston + before starting West.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I presume it is a good one?” Mr. Orson assented. + </p> + + <p> + “Well,” said Claxon, “you must make Miss Hinkle, he'a, stand it if it + ain't. She's got me to go to it.” + </p> + + <p> + 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!” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Is he at the hotel?” she asked. + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” said his sister, monosyllabic for once. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” Clementina assented, when the story came to an end and was + beginning over again. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Is it all a mistake, Clementina?” he asked, with a piteous smile. + </p> + + <p> + “No, no!” + </p> + + <p> + “Am I so much changed?” + </p> + + <p> + “No; you are looking better than I expected.” + </p> + + <p> + “And you are not sorry—for anything?” + </p> + + <p> + “No, I am—Perhaps I have thought of you too much! It seems so + strange.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “It must be something like that.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0039" id="link2H_4_0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXXVIII. + </h2> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well, I was thinking of him,” said Clementina. “Will you ask him?” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes. I'll get round to it, in the mohning.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “But it is; I haven't changed a bit.” + </p> + + <p> + “You ha'n't changed for the wohse, anyway.” + </p> + + <p> + “Didn't I always try to do what I had to?” + </p> + + <p> + “I guess you did, Clem.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well, then!” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “Well?” said Claxon, at last. + </p> + + <p> + “Well?” echoed his wife, and then she did not speak for a little while + longer. At last she asked, + </p> + + <p> + “D'he look that way when you fust see him in New Yo'k?” + </p> + + <p> + Claxon gave his honesty time to get the better of his optimism. Even then + he answered evasively, “He doos look pootty slim.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I ha'n't ever regretted that money, Rebecca,” said Claxon, stiffly, + almost sternly, “and I guess you a'n't, eitha.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well,” said Claxon, taking refuge in the joke, “I shouldn't want her to + marry a crowned head, myself.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0040" id="link2H_4_0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XXXIX. + </h2> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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!” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “And you are here, doing just what you planned when you talked your life + over with me in Venice!” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes, but life isn't eva just what we plan it to be, Miss Milray.” + </p> + + <p> + “Ah, don't I know it!” + </p> + + <p> + 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—” + </p> + + <p> + “You poor child! You never complained of anything—not even of Mrs. + Lander!” + </p> + + <p> + “But it's different from what I expected; and it's—strange.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes; life is very strange.” + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “I think I can understand, Clementina.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + After a moment Clementina asked, “Do you believe that the looks are all + that ah' left?” + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray reflected. “I know what you mean. I should say character was + left, and personality—somewhere.” + </p> + + <p> + “I used to feel as if it we'e left here, at fust—as if he must come + back. But that had to go.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + + <p> + “Everything seems to go. After a while even the loss of him seemed to go.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes, losses go with the rest.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Little things?” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray laughed, “Well, not that kind exactly.” + </p> + + <p> + “No,” Clementina assented, and she colored a little. + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray was moved to add, “But if you mean another kind, I don't see + why not. My own mother was married twice.” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes. He's taken his title again, and gone back to live in Russia; he's + made peace with the Czar; I believe.” + </p> + + <p> + “That's nice,” said Clementina; and Miss Milray made bold to ask: + </p> + + <p> + “And what has become of Mr. Gregory?” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina answered, as Miss Milray thought, tentatively and obliquely: + “You know his wife died.” + </p> + + <p> + “No, I never knew that she lived.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes. They went out to China, and she died the'a.” + </p> + + <p> + “And is he there yet? But of course! He could never have given up being a + missionary.” + </p> + + <p> + “Well,” said Clementina, “he isn't in China. His health gave out, and he + had to come home. He's in Middlemount Centa.” + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray suppressed the “Oh!” that all but broke from her lips. + “Preaching to the heathen, there?” she temporized. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray tried to emulate her calm in asking, “And shall you?” + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + Miss Milray, in the superstition of her old-maidenhood concerning love, + really thought it cold-blooded and shocking; but she said, “Oh, no.” + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes; why not?” Miss Milray was forced to the admission against what she + believed the finer feelings of her nature. + </p> + + <p> + 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?” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “No. I presume it's something I've got to think out for myself.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, I should like to be happy, too. There would be no sense in it if I + wasn't.” + </p> + + <p> + “No, certainly not.” + </p> + + <p> + “Miss Milray,” said Clementina, with a kind of abruptness, “do you eva + hear anything from Dr. Welwright?” + </p> + + <p> + “No! Why?” Miss Milray fastened her gaze vividly upon her. + </p> + + <p> + “Oh, nothing. He wanted me to promise him, there in Venice, too.” + </p> + + <p> + “I didn't know it.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes. But—I couldn't, then. And now—he's written to me. He + wants me to let him come ova, and see me.” + </p> + + <p> + “And—and will you?” asked Miss Milray, rather breathlessly. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “That is something that nobody can say but yourself, Clementina,” she + answered, gravely. + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” sighed Clementina, “I presume that is so.” + </p> + + <p> + She rose, and took her little girl from Miss Milray's knee. “Say + good-bye,” she bade, looking tenderly down at her. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Ah' you going back to Florence?” asked Clementina, provisionally. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0041" id="link2H_4_0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + <h2> + XL. + </h2> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “I don't know,” said Clementina, slowly, “as I've got an answa fo' you, + Mr. Gregory—yet.” + </p> + + <p> + “No answer is better that the one I am afraid of!” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + “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—” + </p> + + <p> + “Oh!” she grieved. “I never ca'ed at all for you after I saw him.” + </p> + + <p> + “I know it must be shocking to you; I haven't told you with any wretched + hope that it would commend me to you!” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't say it was so very bad,” said Clementina, reflectively, “if it + was something you couldn't help.” + </p> + + <p> + “It was something I couldn't help. Perhaps I didn't try.” + </p> + + <p> + “Did—<i>she</i> know it?” + </p> + + <p> + “She knew it from the first; I told her before we were married.” + </p> + + <p> + Clementina drew back a little, insensibly pulling her child with her. “I + don't believe I exactly like it.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “No, no! Heaven forbid.” He stood aside to let her pass. + </p> + + <p> + “I was just going home,” she added. + </p> + + <p> + “May I go with you?” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Why, of course! And I shall try to be guided by you; I should always + submit to be ruled by you, if—” + </p> + + <p> + “That's not what I mean, exactly. I don't want to do the ruling. You don't + undastand me.” + </p> + + <p> + “I'm afraid I don't,” he assented, humbly. + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “Miss Milray! Of Florence?” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + 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—” + </p> + + <p> + “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?” + </p> + + <p> + “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!” + </p> + + <p> + “I don't want to go back to what's past, eitha,” she reasoned, without + gainsaying him. + </p> + + <p> + She stopped again, as if that were all, and he asked, “Then is that my + answer?” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + Once Gregory would have answered confidently; he even now checked an + impulse to do so. “I don't know,” he owned, meekly. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “It was atrocious. I can see that now.” + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> + + <p> + 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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “Yes,” said Gregory. He let fall his head in despair. + </p> + + <p> + “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. + </p> +<div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> <img src="images/{0159}.jpg" alt="{0159}" width="100%" /><br /> </div> <h5> <a href="images/{0159}.jpg"> <img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> </h5> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + 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. + </p> + + <p> + “I wonda what they'a sayin',” she fretted. + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + </h4> + +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + All in all to each other + Chained to the restless pursuit of an ideal not his own + Composed her features and her ideas to receive her visitor + Didn't reason about their beliefs, but only argued + Dull, cold self-absorption + Everything seems to go + Gift of waiting for things to happen + Going on of things had long ceased to bring pleasure + He a'n't a do-nothin'; he's a do-everything + He's so resting + Hopeful apathy in his face + I'm moa used to havin' the things brought to me + Inexhaustible flow of statement, conjecture and misgiving + It's the best that he doesn't seem prepared for + Kept her talking vacuities when her heart was full + Led a life of public seclusion + Life alone is credible to the young + Luxury of helplessness + Morbid egotism + Motives lie nearer the surface than most people commonly pretend + New England necessity of blaming some one + No object in life except to deprive it of all object + One time where one may choose safest what one likes best + Only man I ever saw who would know how to break the fall + Perverse reluctance to find out where they were + Provisional reprehension of possible shiftlessness + Real artistocracy is above social prejudice + Scant sleep of an elderly man + Seldom talked, but there came times when he would'nt even listen + Singleness of a nature that was all pose + Submitted, as people always do with the trials of others + Sunny gayety of self-forgetfulness + Thrown mainly upon the compassion of the chambermaids + Tone was a snuffle expressive of deep-seated affliction + Unaware that she was a selfish or foolish person + Under a fire of conjecture and asseveration + Understood when I've said something that doesn't mean anything + We change whether we ought, or not + Weak in his double letters + When she's really sick, she's better + Willing that she should do herself a wrong + Wishes of a mistress who did not know what she wanted + 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 + You've got a light-haired voice + You've got a light-haired voice +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Ragged Lady, Complete, by William Dean Howells + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAGGED LADY, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 4270-h.htm or 4270-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/7/4270/ + +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. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/4270-h/images/enlarge.jpg b/4270-h/images/enlarge.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a9bcf3 --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/enlarge.jpg diff --git a/4270-h/images/{0006}.jpg b/4270-h/images/{0006}.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f96289f --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/{0006}.jpg diff --git a/4270-h/images/{0007}.jpg b/4270-h/images/{0007}.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cc2930a --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/{0007}.jpg diff --git a/4270-h/images/{0091}.jpg b/4270-h/images/{0091}.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e95c3f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/{0091}.jpg diff --git a/4270-h/images/{0096}.jpg b/4270-h/images/{0096}.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac37267 --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/{0096}.jpg diff --git a/4270-h/images/{0159}.jpg b/4270-h/images/{0159}.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..211f68a --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/{0159}.jpg diff --git a/4270-h/images/{0209}.jpg b/4270-h/images/{0209}.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e46a680 --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/{0209}.jpg diff --git a/4270-h/images/{0243}.jpg b/4270-h/images/{0243}.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..970730b --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/{0243}.jpg diff --git a/4270-h/images/{0277}.jpg b/4270-h/images/{0277}.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c99f36 --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/{0277}.jpg diff --git a/4270-h/images/{0325}.jpg b/4270-h/images/{0325}.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d06f9b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/4270-h/images/{0325}.jpg |
