ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignorahad
أي
nobusinesstodoit,”saidالآنسة
MissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.Shepromisedussouthroomswith
على
aviewclosetogether,insteadofالتي
whichherearenorthrooms,lookingintoعلى
acourtyard,andalongwayapart.Oh,Lucy!”
“AndaCockney,besides!”
saidLucy,whohadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sunexpected
لهجة
accent.“ItmightbeLondon.”
ShelookedatthetworowsofEnglishpeoplewhoweresittingatthe
الطاولة
table;attherowof
البيضاء
whitebottlesofwaterandالحمراء
redbottlesofwinethatranبين
betweentheEnglishpeople;attheportraitsofthelate
الملكة
QueenandthelatePoetLaureateالتي
thathungbehindtheEnglishالشعب
people,heavilyframed;atthe
إشعار
noticeoftheEnglishchurch(Rev.CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),
هذا
thatwastheonlyotherالزخرفة
decorationofthewall.“Charlotte,don’tyou
تشعر
feel,too,thatwemightbeinLondon?Icanhardlybelieve
أن
thatallkindsofotherthingsarejustoutside.Isupposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”
“This
اللحم
meathassurelybeenusedforsoup,”saidالآنسة
MissBartlett,layingdownherالشوكة
fork.“Iwantsoto
أرى
seetheArno.TheroomstheSignorapromisedusinherletterwouldhavelookedovertheArno.
TheSignorahad
أي
nobusinesstodoitatall.Oh,itisashame!”
“Any
زاوية
nookdoesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;“butitdoes
يبدو
seemhardthatyoushouldn’thaveaview.”Lucyfeltthatshehadbeen
أنانية
selfish.“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoilme:
ofcourse,you
يجب
mustlookovertheArno,too.Imeant
ذلك
that.Thefirstvacantroominthefront—”
“Youmusthaveit,”said
الآنسة
MissBartlett,partofwhosetravellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—aقطعة
pieceofgenerositytowhichshemademanyatactfulallusion.“No,no.You
يجب
musthaveit.”“Iinsiston
ذلك
it.Yourmotherwouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”
“Shewouldneverforgiveme.”
Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—ifthesad
الحقيقة
truthbeowned—alittlepeevish.Theyweretired,andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.
بعض
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,andأحد
oneofthem—oneoftheill-bredpeoplewhomأحد
onedoesmeetabroad—leantforwardoverفي
thetableandactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.Hesaid:.
“Ihaveaview,Ihaveaview.”
الآنسة
MissBartlettwasstartled.Generallyatapension
الناس
peoplelookedthemoverforaيوم
dayortwobeforespeaking,andoftendidnotfindoutthattheywould“do”tilltheyhadgone.Sheknew
أن
thattheintruderwasill-bred,حتى
evenbeforesheglancedatعليه
him.Hewasanoldman,ofheavybuild,
مع
withafair,shavenfaceandكبيرة
largeeyes.Therewassomething
طفولي
childishinthoseeyes,thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.Whatexactlyitwas
الآنسة
MissBartlettdidnotstoptoconsider,forherglancepassedontohisclothes.هذه
Thesedidnotattracther.Hewas
ربما
probablytryingtobecomeacquaintedwiththemقبل
beforetheygotintotheالسباحة
swim.Sosheassumedadazedexpression
عندما
whenhespoketoher,andthensaid:“Aview?
Oh,aview!
Howdelightfulaviewis!”
“Thisismyson,”saidthe
العجوز
oldman;“hisname’sGeorge.
Hehasaviewtoo.”
“Ah,”said
الآنسة
MissBartlett,repressingLucy,whowasabouttoالتحدث
speak.“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“is
أن
thatyoucanhaveourrooms,andwe’llhaveyours.We’llchange.”
The
الأفضل
betterclassoftouristwasshockedatthis,andsympathizedمع
withthenew-comers.MissBartlett,inreply,openedhermouthaslittleaspossible,andsaid“Thankyouverymuchindeed;
هذا
thatisoutofthequestion.”“Why?”
saidtheold
الرجل
man,withbothfistsontheالطاولة
table.“Becauseitisquiteoutofthequestion,thankyou.”
“Yousee,wedon’tliketotake—”
beganLucy.
Hercousin
مرة أخرى
againrepressedher.“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlikelookingataview;
mendon’t.”
و
Andhethumpedwithhisfistsمثل
likeanaughtychild,andturnedtohisson,saying,“George,persuadethem!”“It’sso
الواضح
obvioustheyshouldhavetherooms,”saidtheالابن
son.“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnotlookattheladiesashespoke,
لكن
buthisvoicewasperplexedandsorrowful.Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatisknownas“quiteascene,”andshehadan
غريب
oddfeelingthatwhenevertheseill-bredtouristsspoketheالمسابقة
contestwidenedanddeepenedtillitdealt,notمع
withroomsandviews,butwith—well,مع
withsomethingquitedifferent,whoseexistenceshehadnotrealizedbefore.الآن
Nowtheoldmanattackedالآنسة
MissBartlettalmostviolently:Whyshouldshenotchange?
Whatpossible
الاعتراض
objectionhadshe?Theywouldclearoutin
نصف
halfanhour.MissBartlett,though
ماهرة
skilledinthedelicaciesofمحادثة
conversation,waspowerlessintheوجود
presenceofbrutality.Itwas
المستحيل
impossibletosnubanyonesogross.Herfacereddenedwithdispleasure.
Shelooked
حولها
aroundasmuchastosay,“Areyouallمثل
likethis?”Andtwolittleoldladies,whoweresittingfurtherup
في
thetable,withshawlshangingoverفي
thebacksofthechairs,lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;wearegenteel.”
“Eatyourdinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,andbegantotoy
مرة أخرى
againwiththemeatthatshehadمرة
oncecensured.Lucymumbledthat
هؤلاء
thoseseemedveryoddpeopleopposite.“Eatyourdinner,
عزيزي
dear.Thispensionisa
فشل
failure.To-morrowwewillmakeachange.”
Hardlyhadsheannounced
هذا
thisfelldecisionwhenshereversedit.Thecurtainsatthe
نهاية
endoftheroomparted,andrevealedعلى
aclergyman,stoutbutattractive,whohurriedإلى الأمام
forwardtotakehisplaceatthetable,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.Lucy,whohadnot
بعد
yetacquireddecency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:“Oh,oh!
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!
Oh,
كم
howperfectlylovely!Oh,Charlotte,we
يجب
muststopnow,howeverbadtheroomsare.Oh!”
الآنسة
MissBartlettsaid,withmoreضبط النفس
restraint:.“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
I
أتوقع
expectthatyouhaveforgottenus:الآنسة
MissBartlettandMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWellsعندما
whenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthatverycoldEaster.”Theclergyman,
الذي
whohadtheairofoneonaعطلة
holiday,didnotremembertheladiesquiteasclearlyastheyrememberedhim.Buthecame
إلى الأمام
forwardpleasantlyenoughandacceptedtheالكرسي
chairintowhichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.“Iamso
سعيدة
gladtoseeyou,”saidtheالفتاة
girl,whowasinaحالة
stateofspiritualstarvation,andwouldhavebeenسعيدة
gladtoseethewaiterإذا
ifhercousinhadpermittedit.“Justfancy
كم
howsmalltheworldis.Summer
شارع
Street,too,makesitsoخاص
speciallyfunny.”“MissHoneychurchlivesinthe
أبرشية
parishofSummerStreet,”saidالآنسة
MissBartlett,fillinguptheالفجوة
gap,“andshehappenedtotellmeinthecourseofالمحادثة
conversationthatyouhavejustacceptedtheliving—”.“Yes,Iheardfrom
الأم
mothersolastweek.Shedidn’t
تعرف
knowthatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;butIwrote
مرة أخرى
backatonce,andIsaid:‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”saidtheclergyman.
“ImoveintotheRectoryatSummer
شارع
StreetnextJune.Iam
محظوظ
luckytobeappointedtosuchacharmingneighbourhood.”“Oh,
كم
howgladIam!The
اسم
nameofourhouseisالرياح
WindyCorner.”Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereismotherandmegenerally,andmybrother,thoughit’snot
الأحيان
oftenwegethimtoch——The
الكنيسة
churchisratherfaroff,Imean.”“Lucy,dearest,
دع
letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”“Iameatingit,thankyou,andenjoyingit.”
HepreferredtotalktoLucy,
التي
whoseplayingheremembered,ratherthantoالآنسة
MissBartlett,whoprobablyrememberedhissermons.Heaskedthe
الفتاة
girlwhethersheknewFlorencewell,andwasinformedatsomelengththatshehadلم
neverbeentherebefore.Itisdelightfultoadviseanewcomer,andhewas
أول
firstinthefield.“Don’tneglectthecountryround,”hisadviceconcluded.
“The
أول
firstfineafternoondriveuptoFiesole,androundbySettignano,أو
orsomethingofthatsort.”“No!”
crieda
صوت
voicefromthetopoftheالطاولة
table.“Mr.
Beebe,youarewrong.
في
Thefirstfineafternoonyourladiesيجب
mustgotoPrato.”“That
السيدة
ladylookssoclever,”whisperedالآنسة
MissBartletttohercousin.“Weareinluck.”
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentof
المعلومات
informationburstonthem.Peopletoldthemwhattosee,whentoseeit,howto
إيقاف
stoptheelectrictrams,howtogetridofthebeggars,howmuchtogiveforavellumblotter,howmuchtheالمكان
placewouldgrowuponthem.ThePensionBertolinihaddecided,almostenthusiastically,thattheywoulddo.
Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladiessmiledandshoutedat
عليهم
them.Andaboveallrosethe
صوت
voiceofthecleverlady,crying:“Prato!
They
يجب
mustgotoPrato.That
المكان
placeistoosweetlysqualidforwords.I
أحب
loveit;Irevelinshakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
The
الشاب
youngmannamedGeorgeglancedatthecleverالسيدة
lady,andthenreturnedmoodilytohisplate.الواضح
Obviouslyheandhisfatherdidnotdo.Lucy,inthemidstofhersuccess,found
الوقت
timetowishtheydid.Itgaveherno
إضافية
extrapleasurethatanyoneshouldbeleftinthecold;andwhensherosetogo,sheturnedbackandgavethe
اثنين
twooutsidersanervouslittlebow.The
الأب
fatherdidnotseeit;the
الابن
sonacknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,butbyraisinghiseyebrowsandsmiling;heseemedtobesmilingacross
شيء
something.Shehastenedafterhercousin,whohadalreadydisappeared
خلال
throughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmoteواحد
oneintheface,andseemedثقيل
heavywithmorethancloth.BeyondthemstoodtheunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,andsupportedby’Enery,herlittleboy,andVictorier,herdaughter.
Itmadeacuriouslittlescene,
هذه
thisattemptoftheCockneytoconveytheنعمة
graceandgenialityoftheSouth.Andevenmorecuriouswas
في
thedrawing-room,whichattemptedtorivalفي
thesolidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.Was
هذه
thisreallyItaly?MissBartlettwasalreadyseatedonatightlystuffed
كرسي
arm-chair,whichhadthecolourandthecontoursofaالطماطم
tomato.ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,andasshespoke,her
الطويل
longnarrowheaddrovebackwardsandforwards,slowly,regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeغير مرئية
invisibleobstacle.“Wearemost
ممتنون
gratefultoyou,”shewassaying.“Thefirst
المساء
eveningmeanssomuch.Whenyouarrivedwewereinforapeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”
Heexpressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byanychance,knowthe
اسم
nameofanoldmanالذي
whosatoppositeusatdinner?”“Emerson.”
“Ishea
صديق
friendofyours?”“Wearefriendly—asoneisinpensions.”
“ThenIwill
أقول
saynomore.”Hepressedhervery
قليلا
slightly,andshesaidmore.“Iam,asitwere,”sheconcluded,“thechaperonofmy
الشاب
youngcousin,Lucy,anditwouldbeaseriousthingإذا
ifIputherunderanالتزام
obligationtopeopleofwhomweknownothing.Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
IhopeIactedforthebest.”
“Youactedverynaturally,”saidhe.
Heseemedthoughtful,andafterafewmomentsadded:
“Allthesame,Idon’t
أعتقد
thinkmuchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”“Noharm,ofcourse.
Butwecouldnotbe
تحت
underanobligation.”“Heisrathera
غريب
peculiarman.”Againhehesitated,andthensaidgently:
“I
أعتقد
thinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptance,norيتوقع
expectyoutoshowgratitude.Hehas
في
themerit—ifitisone—ofsayingexactlywhathemeans.Hehasroomshedoesnotvalue,andhethinksyouwouldvaluethem.
Heno
أكثر
morethoughtofputtingyouتحت
underanobligationthanhethoughtofbeingpolite.Itissodifficult—atleast,Ifinditdifficult—to
فهم
understandpeoplewhospeakthetruth.”Lucywaspleased,andsaid:
“Iwashoping
أن
thathewasnice;Idosoalwayshope
أن
thatpeoplewillbenice.”“I
أعتقد
thinkheis;niceandtiresome.
I
تختلف
differfromhimonalmostكل
everypointofanyimportance,andso,Iexpect—Iقد
maysayIhope—youwillتختلف
differ.Buthisisa
النوع
typeonedisagreeswithratherمن
thandeplores.Whenhefirstcame
هنا
herehenotunnaturallyputpeople’sbacksup.Hehas
لا
notactandnomanners—Idon’tأعني
meanbythatthathehasسيئة
badmanners—andhewillnotkeephisopinionstohimself.WenearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,butIam
سعيد
gladtosaywethoughtأفضل
betterofit.”“AmItoconclude,”said
الآنسة
MissBartlett,“thatheisaSocialist?”Mr.
Beebeaccepted
في
theconvenientword,notwithoutaطفيف
slighttwitchingofthelips.“And
المفترض
presumablyhehasbroughtuphisابنه
sontobeaSocialist,too?”“Ihardly
أعرف
knowGeorge,forhehasn’tlearnttoالتحدث
talkyet.