ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignora
had
hadnobusinesstodoit,”zei
saidMissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.She
beloofde
promisedussouthroomswitheen
aviewclosetogether,insteadofwhichhier
herearenorthrooms,lookingintoeen
acourtyard,andalongweg
wayapart.Oh,Lucy!”
“And
een
aCockney,besides!”saidLucy,
die
whohadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sonverwachte
unexpectedaccent.“ItmightbeLondon.”
She
keek
lookedatthetworowsofEnglishpeopledie
whoweresittingatthetafel
table;attherowof
witte
whitebottlesofwaterandrode
redbottlesofwinethatliepen
ranbetweentheEnglishpeople;attheportraitsofthelate
Koningin
QueenandthelatePoetLaureatedie
thathungbehindtheEnglishvolk
people,heavilyframed;atthe
kennisgeving
noticeoftheEnglishchurch(Rev.CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),
dat
thatwastheonlyotherdecoratie
decorationofthewall.“Charlotte,don’tyou
voel
feel,too,thatwemightbeinLondon?I
kan
canhardlybelievethatallkindsofandere
otherthingsarejustoutside.I
veronderstel
supposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”“This
vlees
meathassurelybeenusedforsoup,”zei
saidMissBartlett,layingdownhervork
fork.“Iwantsoto
zien
seetheArno.Therooms
de
theSignorapromisedusinherbrief
letterwouldhavelookedoverde
theArno.TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoitatall.
Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynookdoesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;
“butitdoes
lijkt
seemhardthatyoushouldn’thebben
haveaview.”Lucyfelt
dat
thatshehadbeenselfish.“Charlotte,youmustn’t
verwennen
spoilme:ofcourse,you
moet
mustlookovertheArno,too.Imeant
dat
that.Thefirstvacantroomin
de
thefront—”“Youmusthaveit,”
zei
saidMissBartlett,partofwiens
whosetravellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—astuk
pieceofgenerositytowhichshemadeveel
manyatactfulallusion.“No,
nee
no.Youmusthaveit.”“Iinsistonit.
Your
moeder
motherwouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”“She
zou
wouldneverforgiveme.”Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—if
de
thesadtruthbeowned—abeetje
littlepeevish.Theyweretired,
en
andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.Sommige
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,en
andoneofthem—oneoftheill-bredmensen
peoplewhomonedoesmeetabroad—leantnaar voren
forwardoverthetableanddaadwerkelijk
actuallyintrudedintotheirargument.He
zei
said:.“Ihaveaview,I
heb
haveaview.”MissBartlettwasstartled.
Algemeen
Generallyatapensionpeoplekeken
lookedthemoverforadag
dayortwobeforespeaking,en
andoftendidnotfindoutdat
thattheywould“do”tilltheyhadgone.She
wist
knewthattheintruderwasill-bred,zelfs
evenbeforesheglancedathem
him.Hewasanold
man
man,ofheavybuild,withafair,shavengezicht
faceandlargeeyes.Therewas
iets
somethingchildishinthoseeyes,thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.What
precies
exactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnotstopte
stoptoconsider,forherblik
glancepassedontohiskleren
clothes.Thesedidnotattract
haar
her.Hewasprobablytryingtobecomeacquaintedwiththem
voordat
beforetheygotintothezwemmen
swim.Sosheassumedadazed
uitdrukking
expressionwhenhespoketohaar
her,andthensaid:“A
uitzicht
view?Oh,aview!
Howdelightful
een
aviewis!”“Thisismyson,”
zei
saidtheoldman;“hisname’sGeorge.
He
heeft
hasaviewtoo.”“Ah,”
zei
saidMissBartlett,repressingLucy,die
whowasabouttospeak.“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“is
dat
thatyoucanhaveourrooms,en
andwe’llhaveyours.We’llchange.”
De
Thebetterclassoftouristwasgeschokt
shockedatthis,andsympathizedmet
withthenew-comers.MissBartlett,in
antwoord
reply,openedhermouthasweinig
littleaspossible,andsaid“Thankyouerg
verymuchindeed;thatisoutofthequestion.”
“Why?”
zei
saidtheoldman,withbothfistsonde
thetable.“Becauseitisquiteoutofthequestion,
dank
thankyou.”“Yousee,wedon’tliketotake—”
begon
beganLucy.Hercousinagainrepressed
haar
her.“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlike
kijken
lookingataview;mendon’t.”
En
Andhethumpedwithhisfistsals
likeanaughtychild,anddraaide
turnedtohisson,saying,“George,overtuigen
persuadethem!”“It’ssoobviousthey
moeten
shouldhavetherooms,”saidde
theson.“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnot
keek
lookattheladiesashesprak
spoke,buthisvoicewasperplexeden
andsorrowful.Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
maar
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatisknownas“quiteascene,”en
andshehadanoddgevoel
feelingthatwhenevertheseill-bredtouristsspraken
spokethecontestwidenedanddeepenedtillitdealt,notmet
withroomsandviews,butwith—well,met
withsomethingquitedifferent,whosebestaan
existenceshehadnotrealizedbefore.Nu
NowtheoldmanattackedMissBartlettbijna
almostviolently:Whyshouldshenot
veranderen
change?Whatpossibleobjectionhad
ze
she?Theywouldclearoutin
half
halfanhour.MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesof
gesprek
conversation,waspowerlessintheaanwezigheid
presenceofbrutality.Itwas
onmogelijk
impossibletosnubanyonesogross.Her
gezicht
facereddenedwithdispleasure.She
keek
lookedaroundasmuchastozeggen
say,“Areyoualllikethis?”En
Andtwolittleoldladies,die
whoweresittingfurtherupde
thetable,withshawlshangingover
overthebacksofthechairs,keken
lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;wearegenteel.”
“Eatyour
diner
dinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,en
andbegantotoyagainmet
withthemeatthatshehad
hadoncecensured.Lucymumbledthatthose
leken
seemedveryoddpeopleopposite.“Eatyour
diner
dinner,dear.Thispensionis
een
afailure.To-morrowwewill
maken
makeachange.”Hardlyhadsheannounced
dit
thisfelldecisionwhenshereversedhet
it.Thecurtainsatthe
einde
endoftheroomparted,en
andrevealedaclergyman,stoutmaar
butattractive,whohurriedforwardtonemen
takehisplaceatthetafel
table,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.Lucy,
die
whohadnotyetacquiredfatsoen
decency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:“Oh,oh!
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!
Oh,howperfectly
heerlijk
lovely!Oh,Charlotte,wemust
stoppen
stopnow,howeverbadtheroomszijn
are.Oh!”
MissBartlettsaid,
met
withmorerestraint:.“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
Iexpect
dat
thatyouhaveforgottenus:MissBartlett
en
andMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWellstoen
whenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthatzeer
verycoldEaster.”Theclergyman,
die
whohadtheairofoneonavakantie
holiday,didnotremembertheladiesquiteasduidelijk
clearlyastheyrememberedhim.Maar
Buthecameforwardpleasantlygenoeg
enoughandacceptedthechairintowaarin
whichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.“Iamso
blij
gladtoseeyou,”saidthemeisje
girl,whowasinastaat
stateofspiritualstarvation,andzou
wouldhavebeengladtozien
seethewaiterifherneef
cousinhadpermittedit.“Justfancy
hoe
howsmalltheworldis.Summer
Street
Street,too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”“MissHoneychurchlivesinthe
parochie
parishofSummerStreet,”saidMissBartlett,vullen
fillingupthegap,“andshegebeurde
happenedtotellmeinthecourseofgesprek
conversationthatyouhavejustgeaccepteerd
acceptedtheliving—”.“Yes,I
hoorde
heardfrommothersolastweek
week.Shedidn’tknowthatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;
maar
butIwrotebackatonce,en
andIsaid:‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”
zei
saidtheclergyman.“Imoveinto
de
theRectoryatSummerStreetvolgende
nextJune.Iamluckytobe
aangesteld
appointedtosuchacharmingneighbourhood.”“Oh,how
blij
gladIam!Thenameofour
huis
houseisWindyCorner.”Mr.Beebe
boog
bowed.“Thereismotherandme
algemeen
generally,andmybrother,thoughit’snotvaak
oftenwegethimtoch——De
Thechurchisratherfaroff,Imean.”“Lucy,dearest,
laat
letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”“Iam
eet
eatingit,thankyou,andgeniet
enjoyingit.”Hepreferredto
sprak
talktoLucy,whoseplayingheremembered,liever
ratherthantoMissBartlett,die
whoprobablyrememberedhissermons.He
vroeg
askedthegirlwhethershekende
knewFlorencewell,andwasgeïnformeerd
informedatsomelengththatshehadneverbeener
therebefore.Itisdelightfulto
adviseren
adviseanewcomer,andhewaseerste
firstinthefield.“Don’tneglect
het
thecountryround,”hisadviceconcludeerde
concluded.“Thefirstfineafternoon
rijden
driveuptoFiesole,andrond
roundbySettignano,orsomethingofthatsort.”“No!”
cried
een
avoicefromthetopofde
thetable.“Mr.
Beebe,youare
mis
wrong.Thefirstfineafternoonyourladies
moeten
mustgotoPrato.”“That
dame
ladylookssoclever,”whisperedMissBartletttohercousin.“Weareinluck.”
En
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentofinformatie
informationburstonthem.People
vertelden
toldthemwhattosee,wanneer
whentoseeit,howtostoppen
stoptheelectrictrams,howtogetridofthebeggars,hoe
howmuchtogiveforeen
avellumblotter,howmuchtheplaats
placewouldgrowuponthem.Het
ThePensionBertolinihaddecided,bijna
almostenthusiastically,thattheywoulddoen
do.Whicheverwaytheylooked,
vriendelijke
kindladiessmiledandshoutedatthem.En
Andaboveallrosethestem
voiceofthecleverlady,huilend
crying:“Prato!
TheymustgotoPrato.
Die
Thatplaceistoosweetlysqualidforwords.I
hou
loveit;Irevelin
schudden
shakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”De
TheyoungmannamedGeorgeglancedatde
thecleverlady,andthenkeerde
returnedmoodilytohisplate.Duidelijk
Obviouslyheandhisfatherdeden
didnotdo.Lucy,inthemidstofher
succes
success,foundtimetowishtheydeden
did.Itgaveherno
extra
extrapleasurethatanyoneshouldbeleftinthekou
cold;andwhensheroseto
gaan
go,sheturnedbackandgaf
gavethetwooutsidersanervouskleine
littlebow.Thefatherdidnot
zag
seeit;thesonacknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,
maar
butbyraisinghiseyebrowsen
andsmiling;heseemedtobe
glimlachen
smilingacrosssomething.Shehastenedafterher
neef
cousin,whohadalreadydisappeareddoor
throughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmoteeen
oneintheface,andleek
seemedheavywithmorethandoek
cloth.BeyondthemstoodtheunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,
en
andsupportedby’Enery,herkleine
littleboy,andVictorier,herdochter
daughter.Itmadeacurious
kleine
littlescene,thisattemptoftheCockneytobrengen
conveythegraceandgenialityoftheZuiden
South.Andevenmorecuriouswas
de
thedrawing-room,whichattemptedtorivalde
thesolidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.Was
dit
thisreallyItaly?MissBartlettwas
al
alreadyseatedonatightlystuffedarm-chair,die
whichhadthecolourandde
thecontoursofatomato.Shewas
sprak
talkingtoMr.Beebe,andasshesprak
spoke,herlongnarrowheaddrovebackwardsen
andforwards,slowly,regularly,asthoughshewereslopen
demolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewas
zei
saying.“Thefirsteveningmeansso
veel
much.Whenyouarrivedwewereinfor
een
apeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”He
uit
expressedhisregret.“Doyou,byanychance,
weet
knowthenameofanoude
oldmanwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”“Emerson.”
“Ishe
een
afriendofyours?”“Wearefriendly—as
men
oneisinpensions.”“ThenI
zal
willsaynomore.”He
drukte
pressedherveryslightly,andshezei
saidmore.“Iam,asitwere,”she
concludeerde
concluded,“thechaperonofmyjonge
youngcousin,Lucy,anditzou
wouldbeaseriousthingifIputheronder
underanobligationtopeopleofwhomweweten
knownothing.Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
I
hoop
hopeIactedforthebest.”“Youacted
heel
verynaturally,”saidhe.He
leek
seemedthoughtful,andafterapaar
fewmomentsadded:“Allthesame,Idon’t
denk
thinkmuchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”“No
kwaad
harm,ofcourse.Butwe
kunnen
couldnotbeunderanobligation.”“Heis
nogal
ratherapeculiarman.”Againhe
aarzelde
hesitated,andthensaidgently:“I
denk
thinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptatie
acceptance,norexpectyoutotoont
showgratitude.Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—of
zeggen
sayingexactlywhathemeans.He
heeft
hasroomshedoesnotvalue,en
andhethinksyouwouldvalueze
them.Henomorethoughtof
zetten
puttingyouunderanobligationdan
thanhethoughtofbeingbeleefd
polite.Itissodifficult—atleast,I
vind
finditdifficult—tounderstandpeopledie
whospeakthetruth.”Lucywaspleased,
en
andsaid:“Iwashoping
dat
thathewasnice;Idoso
altijd
alwayshopethatpeoplewillbenice.”“I
denk
thinkheis;niceand
vervelend
tiresome.Idifferfromhimon
bijna
almosteverypointofanyimportance,en
andso,Iexpect—Imayzeggen
sayIhope—youwilldiffer.Maar
Buthisisatypeonedisagreeswithratherthandeplores.Toen
Whenhefirstcameherehenotunnaturallyzette
putpeople’sbacksup.He
heeft
hasnotactandnomanners—Idon’tbedoel
meanbythatthatheheeft
hasbadmanners—andhewillnothouden
keephisopinionstohimself.We
bijna
nearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,maar
butIamgladtozeggen
saywethoughtbetterofit.”“AmItoconclude,”
zei
saidMissBartlett,“thatheiseen
aSocialist?”Mr.
Beebeacceptedthe
handige
convenientword,notwithoutalichte
slighttwitchingofthelips.“And
vermoedelijk
presumablyhehasbroughtuphiszoon
sontobeaSocialist,too?”“I
nauwelijks
hardlyknowGeorge,forhehasn’tgeleerd
learnttotalkyet.