ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignorahad
nema
nobusinesstodoit,”saidMissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.Shepromisedussouthrooms
s
withaviewclosetogether,insteadofwhichovdje
herearenorthrooms,lookingintoje
acourtyard,andalongput
wayapart.Oh,Lucy!”
“AndaCockney,besides!”
saidLucy,
koji
whohadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sunexpectedaccent.“ItmightbeLondon.”
Shelookedatthe
dva
tworowsofEnglishpeoplekoji
whoweresittingatthetable;attherowofwhitebottlesof
vode
waterandredbottlesofwinekoje
thatranbetweentheEnglishpeople;attheportraitsofthelateQueen
i
andthelatePoetLaureatekoji
thathungbehindtheEnglishpeople,heavilyframed;atthenoticeoftheEnglishchurch(Rev.
CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),
to
thatwastheonlyotherdecorationofthewall.“Charlotte,don’tyoufeel,too,
da
thatwemightbeinLondon?Icanhardly
vjerovati
believethatallkindsofdrugih
otherthingsarejustoutside.Isupposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”
“Thismeathassurelybeenusedforsoup,”saidMissBartlett,layingdownherfork.
“I
želim
wantsotoseetheArno.Na
TheroomstheSignorapromisedusinherletterwouldhavelookedoverna
theArno.TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoitatall.
Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynookdoesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;
“butitdoesseem
teško
hardthatyoushouldn’thaveaview.”Lucyfelt
da
thatshehadbeenselfish.“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoil
me
me:ofcourse,youmustlook
preko
overtheArno,too.Imeant
to
that.Thefirstvacantroominthefront—”
“Youmusthaveit,”saidMissBartlett,partofwhosetravellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—apieceofgenerositytowhichshemade
mnogo
manyatactfulallusion.“No,
ne
no.Youmusthaveit.”“Iinsistonit.
Your
majka
motherwouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”“Shewouldneverforgiveme.”
Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—ifthesad
istina
truthbeowned—alittlepeevish.Theyweretired,
i
andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.Neki
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,andjedan
oneofthem—oneoftheill-bredljudi
peoplewhomonedoesmeetabroad—leantforwardpreko
overthetableandactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.Hesaid:.
“I
imam
haveaview,Ihaveaview.”MissBartlettwasstartled.
Generallyatapension
ljudi
peoplelookedthemoverforadan
dayortwobeforespeaking,i
andoftendidnotfindoutda
thattheywould“do”tilltheyhadgone.Sheknew
da
thattheintruderwasill-bred,čak
evenbeforesheglancedatga
him.Hewasanoldman,ofheavybuild,
s
withafair,shavenfacei
andlargeeyes.Therewas
nešto
somethingchildishinthoseeyes,iako
thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.What
točno
exactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnotstoptoconsider,forherglancepassedontohisclothes.Thesedidnotattracther.
Hewas
vjerojatno
probablytryingtobecomeacquainteds
withthembeforetheygotintotheswim.Sosheassumed
je
adazedexpressionwhenhespoketonjom
her,andthensaid:“Aview?
Oh,aview!
Howdelightfulaviewis!”
“Thisismyson,”saidtheoldman;
“hisname’sGeorge.
Hehasaviewtoo.”
“Ah,”saidMissBartlett,repressingLucy,whowasaboutto
govoriti
speak.“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“is
da
thatyoucanhaveourrooms,a
andwe’llhaveyours.We’llchange.”
Thebetterclassoftouristwasshockedatthis,
i
andsympathizedwiththenew-comers.MissBartlett,inreply,openedhermouthaslittleas
moguće
possible,andsaid“Thankyouverypuno
muchindeed;thatisoutofthequestion.”
“Why?”
saidtheoldman,
s
withbothfistsonthetable.“Becauseitisquiteoutofthequestion,
hvala
thankyou.”“Yousee,wedon’tliketotake—”
beganLucy.
Hercousin
opet
againrepressedher.“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlikelookingataview;
mendon’t.”
I
Andhethumpedwithhisfistskao
likeanaughtychild,andturnedtohissinu
son,saying,“George,persuadethem!”“It’ssoobvioustheyshould
imati
havetherooms,”saidthesin
son.“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnotlookattheladiesashespoke,
ali
buthisvoicewasperplexedi
andsorrowful.Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
ali
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatisknownas“quiteascene,”i
andshehadanoddfeelingda
thatwhenevertheseill-bredtouristsspokethecontestwidenedi
anddeepenedtillitdealt,notwithroomsi
andviews,butwith—well,withnešto
somethingquitedifferent,whoseexistenceshehadnotrealizedprije
before.NowtheoldmanattackedMissBartlett
gotovo
almostviolently:Whyshouldshenotchange?
Whatpossibleobjectionhadshe?
Theywouldclearoutin
pola
halfanhour.MissBartlett,
iako
thoughskilledinthedelicaciesofconversation,waspowerlessinthepresenceofbrutality.Itwasimpossibletosnub
bilo
anyonesogross.Her
lice
facereddenedwithdispleasure.Shelooked
oko
aroundasmuchastosay,“Areyousvi
alllikethis?”Andtwo
male
littleoldladies,whoweresittingfurtherupna
thetable,withshawlshangingpreko
overthebacksofthechairs,lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;wearegenteel.”
“Eatyour
večeru
dinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,i
andbegantotoyagains
withthemeatthatshehadjednom
oncecensured.Lucymumbledthatthoseseemed
vrlo
veryoddpeopleopposite.“Eatyour
večeru
dinner,dear.Thispensionisafailure.
Sutra
To-morrowwewillmakeachange.”Hardlyhadsheannounced
ovu
thisfelldecisionwhenshereversedit.Thecurtainsatthe
kraju
endoftheroomparted,i
andrevealedaclergyman,stoutali
butattractive,whohurriedforwardtotakehismjesto
placeatthetable,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.Lucy,whohadnot
još
yetacquireddecency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:“Oh,oh!
Zašto
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!Oh,
kako
howperfectlylovely!Oh,Charlotte,wemust
prestati
stopnow,howeverbadtheroomssu
are.Oh!”
MissBartlettsaid,
sa
withmorerestraint:.“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
Iexpect
da
thatyouhaveforgottenus:MissBartlett
i
andMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWellskad
whenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthatvrlo
verycoldEaster.”Theclergyman,
koji
whohadtheairofoneonje
aholiday,didnotremembertheladiessasvim
quiteasclearlyastheyrememberedga
him.Buthecameforwardpleasantly
dovoljno
enoughandacceptedthechairintowhichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.“Iamsogladto
vidjeti
seeyou,”saidthegirl,whowasinje
astateofspiritualstarvation,i
andwouldhavebeengladtovidjeti
seethewaiterifhercousinhadpermittedto
it.“Justfancyhowsmalltheworld
je
is.SummerStreet,too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”
“MissHoneychurchlivesintheparishofSummerStreet,”saidMissBartlett,fillingupthegap,“andshehappenedtotellmeinthecourseofconversationthatyouhave
upravo
justacceptedtheliving—”.“Yes,Iheardfrom
majke
mothersolastweek.Shedidn’tknow
da
thatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;ali
butIwrotebackatonce,i
andIsaid:‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”saidtheclergyman.
“ImoveintotheRectoryatSummer
Streetu
StreetnextJune.Iam
sreće
luckytobeappointedtosuchacharmingneighbourhood.”“Oh,
kako
howgladIam!The
ime
nameofourhouseisWindyCorner.”Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereis
majka
motherandmegenerally,andmybrat
brother,thoughit’snotoftenwegethimtoch——Thechurchisrather
daleko
faroff,Imean.”“Lucy,dearest,letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”
“Iameating
ga
it,thankyou,andenjoyingit.”HepreferredtotalktoLucy,whoseplayingheremembered,rather
nego
thantoMissBartlett,whovjerojatno
probablyrememberedhissermons.HeaskedthegirlwhethersheknewFlorence
dobro
well,andwasinformedatsomelengthda
thatshehadneverbeentamo
therebefore.Itisdelightfultoadviseanewcomer,
a
andhewasfirstinna
thefield.“Don’tneglectthecountryround,”hisadviceconcluded.
“ThefirstfineafternoondriveuptoFiesole,
i
androundbySettignano,ornešto
somethingofthatsort.”“No!”
cried
je
avoicefromthetopofthetable.“Mr.
Beebe,youarewrong.
Thefirstfineafternoonyourladies
moraju
mustgotoPrato.”“That
dama
ladylookssoclever,”whisperedMissBartletttohercousin.“Weareinluck.”
I
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentofinformationburstonnjih
them.Peopletoldthemwhatto
vide
see,whentoseeit,howtostoptheelectrictrams,howtogetridofthebeggars,howmuchtodaju
giveforavellumblotter,howmuchthemjesto
placewouldgrowuponthem.ThePensionBertolinihaddecided,
gotovo
almostenthusiastically,thattheywouldučiniti
do.Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladiessmiled
i
andshoutedatthem.Andaboveallrosethevoiceofthecleverlady,crying:
“Prato!
They
moraju
mustgotoPrato.That
mjesto
placeistoosweetlysqualidforwords.I
volim
loveit;Irevelinshakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
TheyoungmannamedGeorgeglancedattheclever
damu
lady,andthenreturnedmoodilytohisplate.Obviouslyhe
i
andhisfatherdidnotdo.Lucy,inthemidstofhersuccess,found
vrijeme
timetowishtheydid.Itgavehernoextrapleasurethat
bilo
anyoneshouldbeleftinthehladnoći
cold;andwhensherosetogo,sheturned
natrag
backandgavethetwooutsidersje
anervouslittlebow.The
otac
fatherdidnotseeit;the
sin
sonacknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,butbyraisinghiseyebrowsi
andsmiling;heseemedtobesmilingacross
nečega
something.Shehastenedafterhercousin,whohad
već
alreadydisappearedthroughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmotejedan
oneintheface,andseemedheavys
withmorethancloth.BeyondthemstoodtheunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,andsupportedby’Enery,her
mali
littleboy,andVictorier,herkći
daughter.Itmadeacurious
mali
littlescene,thisattemptoftheCockneytoconveythegracei
andgenialityoftheSouth.I
Andevenmorecuriouswasthedrawing-room,koji
whichattemptedtorivalthesolidcomfortofje
aBloomsburyboarding-house.Wasthis
stvarno
reallyItaly?MissBartlettwas
već
alreadyseatedonatightlystuffedarm-chair,koji
whichhadthecolourandthecontoursofje
atomato.ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,andasshespoke,herlongnarrowheaddrovebackwardsandforwards,slowly,regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.
“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewassaying.
“The
prva
firsteveningmeanssomuch.Kad
Whenyouarrivedwewereinforapeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”Heexpressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byanychance,knowthe
ime
nameofanoldmankoji
whosatoppositeusatdinner?”“Emerson.”
“Ishea
prijatelj
friendofyours?”“Wearefriendly—as
jedan
oneisinpensions.”“ThenIwill
reći
saynomore.”Hepressedher
vrlo
veryslightly,andshesaidviše
more.“Iam,asitwere,”sheconcluded,“thechaperonofmyyoungcousin,Lucy,
i
anditwouldbeaseriousstvar
thingifIputherpod
underanobligationtopeopleofwhomweknowništa
nothing.Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
IhopeIactedforthebest.”
“Youacted
vrlo
verynaturally,”saidhe.Heseemedthoughtful,
a
andafterafewmomentsadded:“Allthesame,Idon’tthink
mnogo
muchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”“Noharm,of
naravno
course.Butwecouldnotbe
pod
underanobligation.”“Heisratherapeculiarman.”
Opet
Againhehesitated,andthensaidgently:“Ithinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptance,norexpectyoutoshowgratitude.
Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—ofsaying
točno
exactlywhathemeans.Hehasroomshedoesnotvalue,
a
andhethinksyouwouldvalueih
them.Henomorethoughtofputtingyou
pod
underanobligationthanhethoughtofbeingpolite.Itissodifficult—at
barem
least,Ifinditdifficult—torazumjeti
understandpeoplewhospeakthetruth.”Lucywaspleased,
i
andsaid:“Iwashoping
da
thathewasnice;Idoso
uvijek
alwayshopethatpeoplewillbenice.”“Ithinkheis;
lijepo
niceandtiresome.Idifferfromhimon
gotovo
almosteverypointofanyimportance,i
andso,Iexpect—Imayreći
sayIhope—youwilldiffer.Ali
Buthisisatypeonedisagreess
withratherthandeplores.Whenhe
prvi
firstcameherehenotunnaturallystaviti
putpeople’sbacksup.Hehasnotact
i
andnomanners—Idon’tmeanbythatthathehasloše
badmanners—andhewillnotzadržati
keephisopinionstohimself.WenearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,
ali
butIamgladtoreći
saywethoughtbetterofit.”“AmItoconclude,”saidMissBartlett,“thatheisaSocialist?”
Mr.
Beebeacceptedtheconvenient
riječ
word,notwithoutaslighttwitchingofthelips.“Andpresumablyhehasbroughtuphis
sina
sontobeaSocialist,too?”“IhardlyknowGeorge,forhehasn’tlearntto
govoriti
talkyet.