ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoit,”saidMissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.
Shepromisedussouthroomswithaviewclosetogether,insteadofwhichherearenorthrooms,lookingintoacourtyard,andalongwayapart.
Oh,Lucy!”
“AndaCockney,besides!”
saidLucy,whohadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sunexpectedaccent.
“ItmightbeLondon.”
ShelookedatthetworowsofEnglishpeoplewhoweresittingatthe
tisch
table;attherowofwhitebottlesofwaterandredbottlesofwinethatranbetweentheEnglishpeople;
attheportraitsofthelate
Königin
QueenandthelatePoetLaureatethathungbehindtheEnglishpeople,heavilyframed;atthenoticeoftheEnglish
kirche
church(Rev.CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),thatwastheonlyotherdecorationofthe
mauer
wall.“Charlotte,don’tyoufeel,too,thatwemightbeinLondon?
Icanhardlybelievethatallkindsofotherthingsarejustoutside.
I
nehme an
supposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”“This
fleisch
meathassurelybeenusedforsoup,”saidMissBartlett,legte
layingdownherfork.“IwantsotoseetheArno.
TheroomstheSignorapromisedusinher
brief
letterwouldhavelookedovertheArno.TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoitatall.
Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynookdoesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;
“butitdoes
scheint
seemhardthatyoushouldn’thaveaview.”Lucyfeltthatshehadbeenselfish.
“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoilme:
ofcourse,youmustlookovertheArno,too.
Imeantthat.
Thefirstvacantroominthefront—”
“Youmusthaveit,”saidMissBartlett,partof
deren
whosetravellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—astück
pieceofgenerositytowhichshemademanyatactfulallusion.“No,no.Youmusthaveit.”
“Iinsistonit.
Yourmotherwouldnever
verzeihen
forgiveme,Lucy.”“Shewouldnever
verzeihen
forgiveme.”Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—ifthesadtruthbeowned—alittlepeevish.
Theyweretired,andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,andoneofthem—oneoftheill-bredpeoplewhomonedoesmeetabroad—leantforwardoverthe
tisch
tableandactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.Hesaid:.
“Ihaveaview,Ihaveaview.”
MissBartlettwasstartled.
Generallyatapensionpeoplelookedthemoverforadayortwobeforespeaking,and
oft
oftendidnotfindoutthattheywould“do”tilltheyhadgone.Sheknewthattheintruderwasill-bred,evenbeforesheglancedathim.
Hewasanoldman,ofheavy
gebaut
build,withafair,shavenfaceandlargeeyes.Therewassomethingchildishinthoseeyes,thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.
WhatexactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnotstoptoconsider,forherglancepassedontohis
kleidung
clothes.Thesedidnotattracther.
Hewasprobablytryingtobecomeacquaintedwiththembeforetheygotintotheswim.
Sosheassumedadazedexpressionwhenhespoketoher,andthensaid:
“Aview?
Oh,aview!
Howdelightfulaviewis!”
“Thisismyson,”saidtheoldman;
“hisname’sGeorge.
Hehasaviewtoo.”
“Ah,”saidMissBartlett,repressingLucy,whowasabouttospeak.
“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“isthatyoucanhaveourrooms,andwe’llhaveyours.
We’llchange.”
Thebetterclassoftouristwasshockedatthis,andsympathizedwiththenew-comers.
MissBartlett,inreply,openedher
mund
mouthaslittleaspossible,andsaid“Thankyouverymuchindeed;thatisoutofthequestion.”
“Why?”
saidtheoldman,withbothfistsonthe
tisch
table.“Becauseitisquiteoutofthequestion,thankyou.”
“Yousee,wedon’tliketotake—”
begann
beganLucy.Hercousinagainrepressedher.
“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlikelookingataview;
mendon’t.”
Andhethumpedwithhisfistslikeanaughtychild,andturnedtohisson,saying,“George,persuadethem!”
“It’ssoobvioustheyshouldhavetherooms,”saidtheson.
“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnotlookattheladiesashespoke,buthis
stimme
voicewasperplexedandsorrowful.Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatis
bekannt
knownas“quiteascene,”andshehadanoddfeelingthatwhenevertheseill-bredtouristsspokethecontestwidenedanddeepenedtillitdealt,notwithroomsandviews,butwith—well,withsomethingquitedifferent,dessen
whoseexistenceshehadnoterkannt
realizedbefore.NowtheoldmanattackedMissBartlettalmostviolently:
Whyshouldshenotchange?
Whatpossibleobjectionhadshe?
Theywouldclearoutinhalfanhour.
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesofconversation,waspowerlessinthepresenceofbrutality.
Itwas
unmöglich
impossibletosnubanyonesogross.Herfacereddenedwithdispleasure.
Shelookedaroundasmuchastosay,“Areyoualllikethis?”
Andtwolittleoldladies,whoweresitting
weiter
furtherupthetable,withshawlshangingoverthebacksofthechairs,lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;wearegenteel.”
“Eatyourdinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,and
begann
begantotoyagainwiththefleisch
meatthatshehadoncecensured.Lucymumbledthatthose
schienen
seemedveryoddpeopleopposite.“Eatyourdinner,dear.
Thispensionisafailure.
To-morrowwewillmakeachange.”
Hardlyhadsheannouncedthisfell
entscheidung
decisionwhenshereversedit.Thecurtainsattheendoftheroomparted,andrevealedaclergyman,stoutbutattractive,whohurriedforwardtotakehisplaceatthe
tisch
table,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.Lucy,whohadnotyetacquireddecency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:
“Oh,oh!
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!
Oh,howperfectlylovely!
Oh,Charlotte,wemuststopnow,howeverbadtheroomsare.
Oh!”
MissBartlettsaid,withmorerestraint:.
“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
Iexpectthatyouhaveforgottenus:
MissBartlettandMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWellswhenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthatverycoldEaster.”
Theclergyman,whohadtheairofoneonaholiday,didnotremembertheladiesquiteasclearlyastheyrememberedhim.
ButhecameforwardpleasantlyenoughandacceptedthechairintowhichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.
“Iamsogladtoseeyou,”saidthegirl,whowasina
zustand
stateofspiritualstarvation,andwouldhavebeengladtoseethewaiterifhercousin
cousinhadpermittedit.“Justfancyhowsmalltheworldis.
SummerStreet,too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”
“MissHoneychurchlivesintheparishofSummerStreet,”saidMissBartlett,fillingupthegap,“andshehappenedtotellmeinthecourseofconversationthatyouhavejustacceptedtheliving—”.
“Yes,Iheardfrommothersolastweek.
Shedidn’tknowthatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;
butIwrotebackatonce,andIsaid:
‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”saidtheclergyman.
“ImoveintotheRectoryatSummerStreetnextJune.
Iamluckytobeappointedtosuchacharmingneighbourhood.”
“Oh,howgladIam!
ThenameofourhouseisWindyCorner.”
Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereismotherandmegenerally,andmybrother,thoughit’snot
oft
oftenwegethimtoch——The
kirche
churchisratherfaroff,Imean.”“Lucy,dearest,letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”
“Iameatingit,thankyou,andenjoyingit.”
HepreferredtotalktoLucy,
deren
whoseplayingheremembered,ratherthantoMissBartlett,whoprobablyrememberedhissermons.Heaskedthegirl
ob
whethersheknewFlorencewell,andwasinformedatsomelengththatshehadneverbeentherebefore.Itisdelightfultoadviseanewcomer,andhewasfirstinthe
feld
field.“Don’tneglectthecountryround,”hisadviceconcluded.
“Thefirstfine
nachmittag
afternoondriveuptoFiesole,androundbySettignano,orsomethingofthatsort.”“No!”
crieda
stimme
voicefromthetopofthetable.“Mr.
Beebe,youarewrong.
Thefirstfine
nachmittag
afternoonyourladiesmustgotoPrato.”“Thatladylookssoclever,”whisperedMissBartletttoher
cousine
cousin.“Weareinluck.”
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentof
informationen
informationburstonthem.Peopletoldthemwhattosee,whentoseeit,howtostoptheelectrictrams,howtogetridofthebeggars,howmuchtogiveforavellumblotter,howmuchtheplacewould
wachsen
growuponthem.ThePensionBertolinihad
entschieden
decided,almostenthusiastically,thattheywoulddo.Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladies
lächelten
smiledandshoutedatthem.And
über
aboveallrosethevoiceofthecleverlady,crying:“Prato!
TheymustgotoPrato.
Thatplaceistoosweetlysqualidforwords.
Iloveit;
Irevelinshakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
TheyoungmannamedGeorgeglancedatthecleverlady,andthenreturnedmoodilytohisplate.
Offensichtlich
Obviouslyheandhisfatherdidnotdo.Lucy,inthemidstofhersuccess,foundtimetowishtheydid.
Itgavehernoextra
vergnügen
pleasurethatanyoneshouldbeleftinthecold;andwhensherosetogo,sheturnedbackandgavethetwooutsidersanervouslittlebow.
Thefatherdidnotseeit;
thesonacknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,butbyraisinghiseyebrowsand
lächelte
smiling;heseemedtobe
lächeln
smilingacrosssomething.Shehastenedafterher
cousin
cousin,whohadalreadydisappearedthroughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmoteoneintheface,andschienen
seemedheavywithmorethancloth.BeyondthemstoodtheunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,andsupportedby’Enery,herlittleboy,andVictorier,herdaughter.
Itmadeacuriouslittle
szene
scene,thisattemptoftheCockneytoconveythegraceandgenialityoftheSouth.Andevenmorecuriouswasthedrawing-room,whichattemptedtorivalthesolidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.
WasthisreallyItaly?
MissBartlettwasalreadyseatedonatightlystuffedarm-chair,whichhadthecolourandthecontoursofatomato.
ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,andasshespoke,herlongnarrowheaddrovebackwardsandforwards,slowly,regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.
“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewassaying.
“Thefirsteveningmeanssomuch.
Whenyouarrivedwewereinforapeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”
Heexpressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byanychance,knowthenameofanoldmanwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”
“Emerson.”
“Isheafriendofyours?”
“Wearefriendly—asoneisinpensions.”
“ThenIwillsaynomore.”
Hepressedherveryslightly,andshesaidmore.
“Iam,asitwere,”sheconcluded,“thechaperonofmyyoung
cousine
cousin,Lucy,anditwouldbeaseriousthingifIputherunderanobligationtopeopleofwhomweknownothing.Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
IhopeIactedforthebest.”
“Youactedverynaturally,”saidhe.
He
schien
seemedthoughtful,andafterafewmomentsadded:“Allthesame,Idon’tthinkmuchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”
“Noharm,ofcourse.
Butwecouldnotbeunderanobligation.”
“Heis
ziemlich
ratherapeculiarman.”Againhehesitated,andthensaidgently:
“Ithinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptance,nor
erwarten
expectyoutoshowgratitude.Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—ofsayingexactlywhathemeans.
Hehasroomshedoesnotvalue,andhethinksyouwouldvaluethem.
Henomorethoughtofputtingyouunderanobligationthanhethoughtofbeingpolite.
Itissodifficult—atleast,Ifinditdifficult—tounderstandpeoplewhospeakthetruth.”
Lucywaspleased,andsaid:
“Iwashopingthathewasnice;
Idosoalwayshopethatpeoplewillbenice.”
“Ithinkheis;
niceandtiresome.
Idifferfromhimonalmosteverypointofanyimportance,andso,Iexpect—ImaysayIhope—youwilldiffer.
Buthisisa
typ
typeonedisagreeswithratherthandeplores.Whenhefirstcameherehenotunnaturallyputpeople’sbacksup.
Hehasnotactandnomanners—Idon’tmeanbythatthathehasbadmanners—andhewillnotkeephisopinionstohimself.
WenearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,butIamgladtosaywethoughtbetterofit.”
“AmItoconclude,”saidMissBartlett,“thatheisaSocialist?”
Mr.
Beebe
akzeptierte
acceptedtheconvenientword,notwithoutaslighttwitchingofthelips.“AndpresumablyhehasbroughtuphissontobeaSocialist,too?”
“IhardlyknowGeorge,forhehasn’tlearnttotalkyet.