ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignora
aveva
hadnobusinesstodoit,”disse
saidMissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.She
promesso
promisedussouthroomswithaviewclosetogether,insteadofcui
whichherearenorthrooms,guardando
lookingintoacourtyard,andalungo
longwayapart.Oh,Lucy!”
“And
un
aCockney,besides!”saidLucy,
che
whohadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sunexpectedaccent.“It
potrebbe
mightbeLondon.”Shelookedat
le
thetworowsofEnglishpeopleche
whoweresittingatthetable;attherowofwhitebottlesofwater
e
andredbottlesofwineche
thatranbetweentheEnglishpeople;at
il
theportraitsofthelateQueene
andthelatePoetLaureateche
thathungbehindtheEnglishpopolo
people,heavilyframed;atthenoticeoftheEnglishchurch(Rev.
CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),
che
thatwastheonlyotherdecorationofthewall.“Charlotte,don’tyoufeel,too,
che
thatwemightbeinLondon?Icanhardly
credere
believethatallkindsofotherthingsarejustfuori
outside.Isupposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”
“Thismeathassurelybeen
usata
usedforsoup,”saidMissBartlett,layingdownherfork.“Iwantsoto
vedere
seetheArno.TheroomstheSignora
promesso
promisedusinherletterwouldhavelookedovertheArno.TheSignora
aveva
hadnobusinesstodoitatall.Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynook
fa
doesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;“butitdoesseem
difficile
hardthatyoushouldn’thaveuna
aview.”Lucyfeltthatshehadbeenselfish.
“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoilme:
ofcourse,you
devi
mustlookovertheArno,too.I
detto
meantthat.Thefirstvacantroomin
la
thefront—”“Youmusthaveit,”
disse
saidMissBartlett,partofwhosetravellingexpenseswerepagate
paidbyLucy’smother—apieceofgenerositytocui
whichshemademanyatactfulallusion.“No,no.You
devi
musthaveit.”“Iinsistonit.
Your
madre
motherwouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”“Shewouldneverforgiveme.”
Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—ifthesad
verità
truthbeowned—alittlepeevish.Theyweretired,
e
andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.Alcuni
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,e
andoneofthem—oneoftheill-bredpersone
peoplewhomonedoesmeetabroad—leantforwardoverthetablee
andactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.He
detto
said:.“Ihaveaview,I
ho
haveaview.”MissBartlettwasstartled.
Generallyatapensionpeople
guardava
lookedthemoverforagiorno
dayortwobeforespeaking,e
andoftendidnotfindoutche
thattheywould“do”tilltheyavrebbero
hadgone.Sheknewthattheintruderwasill-bred,evenbeforesheglancedathim.
Hewasanold
uomo
man,ofheavybuild,withafair,shavenfaccia
faceandlargeeyes.Therewas
qualcosa
somethingchildishinthoseeyes,anche se
thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.What
esattamente
exactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnotfermò
stoptoconsider,forherglancepassedontohisclothes.Thesedidnotattracther.
Hewas
probabilmente
probablytryingtobecomeacquaintedwiththemprima
beforetheygotintotheswim.Sosheassumed
un
adazedexpressionwhenheparlato
spoketoher,andthendetto
said:“Aview?
Oh,aview!
Howdelightfulaviewis!”
“Thisismyson,”
disse
saidtheoldman;“hisname’sGeorge.
He
ha
hasaviewtoo.”“Ah,”
disse
saidMissBartlett,repressingLucy,che
whowasabouttospeak.“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“is
che
thatyoucanhaveourrooms,e
andwe’llhaveyours.We’llchange.”
The
migliore
betterclassoftouristwasshockedatquesto
this,andsympathizedwiththenew-comers.Signorina
MissBartlett,inreply,openedhermouthaslittleaspossibile
possible,andsaid“Thankyouverymuchindeed;thatis
fuori
outofthequestion.”“Why?”
disse
saidtheoldman,withentrambi
bothfistsonthetable.“Becauseitisquite
fuori
outofthequestion,thankyou.”“You
vedi
see,wedon’tliketotake—”beganLucy.
Hercousinagainrepressed
suo
her.“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlike
guardare
lookingataview;mendon’t.”
E
Andhethumpedwithhisfistscome
likeanaughtychild,andgirato
turnedtohisson,saying,“George,persuadethem!”“It’ssoobviousthey
dovrebbero
shouldhavetherooms,”saidthefiglio
son.“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnot
guardava
lookattheladiesasheparlava
spoke,buthisvoicewasperplexede
andsorrowful.Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
ma
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatisknownas“quiteascene,”e
andshehadanoddfeelingche
thatwhenevertheseill-bredtouristsparlato
spokethecontestwidenedanddeepenedtillittrattava
dealt,notwithroomsandviews,ma
butwith—well,withsomethingquitediverso
different,whoseexistenceshehadnotrealizedprima
before.Nowtheoldmanattacked
Signorina
MissBartlettalmostviolently:Why
dovrebbe
shouldshenotchange?What
possibile
possibleobjectionhadshe?They
sarebbero
wouldclearoutinhalfanhour.Signorina
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinla
thedelicaciesofconversation,waspowerlessinla
thepresenceofbrutality.Itwasimpossibletosnubany
uno
onesogross.Herfacereddened
di
withdispleasure.Shelookedaroundasmuchasto
dire
say,“Areyoualllikethis?”E
Andtwolittleoldladies,che
whoweresittingfurtherupthetable,withshawlsappesi
hangingoverthebacksofthechairs,guardarono
lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;wearegenteel.”
“Eatyour
cena
dinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,e
andbegantotoyagainwithla
themeatthatshehadvolta
oncecensured.Lucymumbledthatthoseseemedveryodd
persone
peopleopposite.“Eatyourdinner,
cara
dear.Thispensionisafailure.
Domani
To-morrowwewillmakeachange.”Hardly
aveva
hadsheannouncedthisfelldecisionquando
whenshereversedit.Thecurtainsatthe
fine
endoftheroomparted,e
andrevealedaclergyman,stoutma
butattractive,whohurriedforwardtoprendere
takehisplaceatthetable,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.Lucy,
che
whohadnotyetacquireddecency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:“Oh,oh!
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!
Oh,
quanto
howperfectlylovely!Oh,Charlotte,we
dobbiamo
muststopnow,howeverbadle
theroomsare.Oh!”
MissBartlett
detto
said,withmorerestraint:.“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
Iexpect
che
thatyouhaveforgottenus:Signorina
MissBartlettandMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWellsquando
whenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthatverycoldEaster.”Theclergyman,
che
whohadtheairofuno
oneonaholiday,didnotremembertheladiesabbastanza
quiteasclearlyastheyrememberedlui
him.Buthecameforwardpleasantly
abbastanza
enoughandacceptedthechairintocui
whichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.“Iamsogladto
vedere
seeyou,”saidthegirl,che
whowasinastateofspiritualstarvation,e
andwouldhavebeengladtovedere
seethewaiterifhercousinhadpermittedit.“Justfancy
quanto
howsmalltheworldis.SummerStreet,too,
rende
makesitsospeciallyfunny.”“MissHoneychurchlivesintheparishofSummerStreet,”
disse
saidMissBartlett,fillingupthegap,“andshesuccesso
happenedtotellmeinthecorso
courseofconversationthatyouha
havejustacceptedtheliving—”.“Yes,Iheardfrommothersolast
settimana
week.Shedidn’tknowthatI
sapeva
knewyouatTunbridgeWells;ma
butIwrotebackatonce,e
andIsaid:‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”
disse
saidtheclergyman.“Imoveinto
il
theRectoryatSummerStreetprossimo
nextJune.Iamluckytobeappointedtosuch
un
acharmingneighbourhood.”“Oh,howgladIam!
Il
ThenameofourhouseisWindyCorner.”Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereis
madre
motherandmegenerally,andmyfratello
brother,thoughit’snotoftenwegethimtoch——La
Thechurchisratherfaroff,Imean.”“Lucy,dearest,
lascia
letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”“Iam
mangiando
eatingit,thankyou,andenjoyingit.”Hepreferredto
parlare
talktoLucy,whoseplayinghericordava
remembered,ratherthantoMissBartlett,whoprobabilmente
probablyrememberedhissermons.He
chiese
askedthegirlwhethersheknewFlorencebene
well,andwasinformedatsomelengthche
thatshehadneverbeenthereprima
before.Itisdelightfultoadvise
un
anewcomer,andhewasprimo
firstinthefield.“Don’tneglectthecountryround,”hisadviceconcluded.
“The
primo
firstfineafternoondriveuptoFiesole,e
androundbySettignano,orqualcosa
somethingofthatsort.”“No!”
cried
una
avoicefromthetopofthetable.“Mr.
Beebe,youarewrong.
The
primo
firstfineafternoonyourladiesdevono
mustgotoPrato.”“That
signora
ladylookssoclever,”whisperedSignorina
MissBartletttohercousin.“Weareinluck.”
E
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentofinformationburstonloro
them.Peopletoldthemwhatto
vedere
see,whentoseeit,howtofermare
stoptheelectrictrams,howtogetridofthebeggars,howmuchtodare
giveforavellumblotter,howmuchtheposto
placewouldgrowuponthem.La
ThePensionBertolinihaddecided,quasi
almostenthusiastically,thattheywouldfatto
do.Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladiessmiled
e
andshoutedatthem.Andabove
tutto
allrosethevoiceofla
thecleverlady,crying:“Prato!
They
devono
mustgotoPrato.That
posto
placeistoosweetlysqualidforwords.Iloveit;
Irevelinshakingoff
i
thetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”Il
TheyoungmannamedGeorgeglancedatil
thecleverlady,andthentornato
returnedmoodilytohisplate.Obviouslyhe
e
andhisfatherdidnotfatto
do.Lucy,inthemidstofhersuccess,
trovato
foundtimetowishtheyfacessero
did.Itgavehernoextrapleasure
che
thatanyoneshouldbelasciato
leftinthecold;and
quando
whensherosetogo,sheturnedindietro
backandgavethetwooutsidersun
anervouslittlebow.The
padre
fatherdidnotseeit;the
figlio
sonacknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,ma
butbyraisinghiseyebrowse
andsmiling;heseemedtobesmilingacross
qualcosa
something.Shehastenedafterhercousin,who
ha
hadalreadydisappearedthroughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmoteuno
oneintheface,andseemedheavywithpiù
morethancloth.BeyondthemstoodtheunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,
e
andsupportedby’Enery,herlittleboy,e
andVictorier,herdaughter.It
fatto
madeacuriouslittlescene,questo
thisattemptoftheCockneytoconveythegracee
andgenialityoftheSouth.E
Andevenmorecuriouswasil
thedrawing-room,whichattemptedtorivalil
thesolidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.Wasthis
davvero
reallyItaly?MissBartlettwas
già
alreadyseatedonatightlystuffedarm-chair,che
whichhadthecolourandthecontoursofatomato.ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,
e
andasshespoke,herlongnarrowtesta
headdrovebackwardsandforwards,slowly,regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewas
diceva
saying.“Thefirsteveningmeanssomuch.
Quando
Whenyouarrivedwewereinforun
apeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”Heexpressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byany
caso
chance,knowthenameofun
anoldmanwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”“Emerson.”
“Ishe
un
afriendofyours?”“Wearefriendly—asoneisinpensions.”
“ThenIwill
dirò
saynomore.”Hepressedherveryslightly,
e
andshesaidmore.“Iam,asitwere,”sheconcluded,“thechaperonofmy
giovane
youngcousin,Lucy,anditsarebbe
wouldbeaseriousthingse
ifIputherunderanobligationtopersone
peopleofwhomweknownulla
nothing.Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
IhopeIactedfor
il
thebest.”“Youactedverynaturally,”
detto
saidhe.Heseemedthoughtful,
e
andafterafewmomentsadded:“Allthesame,Idon’tthinkmuchharmwould
avrebbe
havecomeofaccepting.”“Noharm,ofcourse.
Ma
Butwecouldnotbesotto
underanobligation.”“Heisrather
un
apeculiarman.”Againhehesitated,
e
andthensaidgently:“I
penso
thinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptance,norexpectyoutomostrassi
showgratitude.Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—of
dire
sayingexactlywhathemeans.He
ha
hasroomshedoesnotvalue,e
andhethinksyouwouldvaluethem.He
non
nomorethoughtofputtingyousotto
underanobligationthanhepensato
thoughtofbeingpolite.Itissodifficult—at
almeno
least,Ifinditdifficult—tocapire
understandpeoplewhospeakthetruth.”Lucywaspleased,
e
andsaid:“Iwashoping
che
thathewasnice;Idoso
sempre
alwayshopethatpeoplewillbenice.”“I
penso
thinkheis;niceandtiresome.
Idifferfromhimon
quasi
almosteverypointofanyimportance,e
andso,Iexpect—Imaydire
sayIhope—youwilldiffer.Ma
Buthisisatypeonedisagreeswithratherche
thandeplores.Whenhefirst
venuto
cameherehenotunnaturallymesso
putpeople’sbacksup.Hehas
non
notactandnomanners—Idon’tmeanbyche
thatthathehasbadmanners—andhewillnotmanterrà
keephisopinionstohimself.WenearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,
ma
butIamgladtodire
saywethoughtbetterofit.”“AmItoconclude,”
disse
saidMissBartlett,“thatheisun
aSocialist?”Mr.
Beebeaccepted
la
theconvenientword,notwithoutun
aslighttwitchingofthelips.“Andpresumablyhe
ha
hasbroughtuphissontobeun
aSocialist,too?”“IhardlyknowGeorge,forhehasn’t
imparato
learnttotalkyet.