ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoit,”saidMissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.
Shepromisedussouthroomswithaviewclosetogether,insteadofwhichherearenorthrooms,lookingintoa
dziedziniec
courtyard,andalongwayapart.Oh,Lucy!”
“AndaCockney,besides!”
saidLucy,whohadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sunexpectedaccent.
“ItmightbeLondon.”
ShelookedatthetworowsofEnglishpeoplewhoweresittingatthetable;
attherowofwhitebottlesofwaterandredbottlesofwinethatranbetweentheEnglishpeople;
attheportraitsofthelateQueenandthelate
Poety
PoetLaureatethathungbehindtheEnglishpeople,mocno
heavilyframed;atthenoticeoftheEnglishchurch(Rev.
CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),thatwastheonlyotherdecorationofthewall.
“Charlotte,don’tyoufeel,too,thatwemightbeinLondon?
Icanhardlybelievethatallkindsofotherthingsarejustoutside.
Isupposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”
“Thismeathassurelybeenusedforsoup,”saidMissBartlett,layingdownher
widelec
fork.“IwantsotoseetheArno.
TheroomstheSignorapromisedusinherletterwouldhavelookedovertheArno.
TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoitatall.
Oh,itisashame!”
“Any
zakątek
nookdoesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;“butitdoesseemhardthatyoushouldn’thaveaview.”
Lucyfeltthatshehadbeenselfish.
“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoilme:
ofcourse,youmustlookovertheArno,too.
Imeantthat.
Thefirstvacantroominthefront—”
“Youmusthaveit,”saidMissBartlett,partofwhosetravellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—apieceofgenerositytowhichshemademanyatactfulallusion.
“No,no.Youmusthaveit.”
“I
nalegam
insistonit.Yourmotherwouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”
“Shewouldneverforgiveme.”
Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—ifthesadtruthbeowned—alittlepeevish.
Theyweretired,andunderthe
pozorem
guiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,andoneofthem—oneoftheill-bredpeoplewhomonedoesmeetabroad—leantforwardoverthetableandactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.
Hesaid:.
“Ihaveaview,Ihaveaview.”
MissBartlettwasstartled.
Ogólnie
Generallyatapensionpeoplelookedthemoverforadayortwobeforespeaking,andoftendidnotfindoutthattheywould“do”tilltheyhadgone.Sheknewthattheintruderwasill-bred,evenbeforesheglancedathim.
Hewasanoldman,ofheavybuild,withafair,shavenfaceandlargeeyes.
Therewassomethingchildishinthoseeyes,thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.
WhatexactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnotstoptoconsider,forherglancepassedontohisclothes.
Thesedidnotattracther.
Hewasprobablytryingtobecomeacquaintedwiththembeforetheygotintotheswim.
Sosheassumedadazedexpressionwhenhespoketoher,andthensaid:
“Aview?
Oh,aview!
How
wspaniały
delightfulaviewis!”“Thisismyson,”saidtheoldman;
“hisname’sGeorge.
Hehasaviewtoo.”
“Ah,”saidMissBartlett,repressingLucy,whowasabouttospeak.
“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“isthatyoucanhaveourrooms,andwe’llhaveyours.
We’llchange.”
Thebetterclassoftouristwasshockedatthis,and
sympatyzowała
sympathizedwiththenew-comers.MissBartlett,inreply,openedhermouthaslittleaspossible,andsaid“Thankyouverymuchindeed;
thatisoutofthequestion.”
“Why?”
saidtheoldman,withbothfistsonthetable.
“Becauseitisquiteoutofthequestion,thankyou.”
“Yousee,wedon’tliketotake—”
beganLucy.
Hercousinagainrepressedher.
“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlikelookingataview;
mendon’t.”
Andhethumpedwithhisfistslikea
niegrzeczne
naughtychild,andturnedtohisson,saying,“George,przekonaj
persuadethem!”“It’ssoobvioustheyshouldhavetherooms,”saidtheson.
“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnotlookattheladiesashespoke,buthisvoicewasperplexedandsorrowful.
Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatisknownas“quiteascene,”andshehadanoddfeelingthatwhenevertheseill-bredtouristsspokethecontestwidenedanddeepenedtillitdealt,notwithroomsandviews,butwith—well,withsomethingquitedifferent,whose
istnienia
existenceshehadnotrealizedbefore.NowtheoldmanattackedMissBartlettalmost
gwałtownie
violently:Whyshouldshenotchange?
Whatpossibleobjectionhadshe?
Theywouldclearoutinhalfanhour.
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesofconversation,waspowerlessinthepresenceofbrutality.
Itwasimpossibletosnubanyonesogross.
Herfacereddenedwithdispleasure.
Shelookedaroundasmuchastosay,“Areyoualllikethis?”
Andtwolittleoldladies,whoweresittingfurtherupthetable,withshawlshangingoverthebacksofthechairs,lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;
wearegenteel.”
“Eatyourdinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,andbegantotoyagainwiththemeatthatshehadoncecensured.
Lucymumbledthatthoseseemedveryoddpeopleopposite.
“Eatyourdinner,dear.
Thispensionisafailure.
To-morrowwewillmakeachange.”
Hardlyhadshe
ogłosiła
announcedthisfelldecisionwhensheodwróciła
reversedit.Thecurtainsattheendoftheroomparted,and
ujawnił
revealedaclergyman,stoutbutattractive,whohurriedforwardtotakehisplaceatthetable,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.Lucy,whohadnotyet
zdobyła
acquireddecency,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.”
The
duchowny
clergyman,whohadtheairofoneonaholiday,didnotremembertheladiesquiteasclearlyastheyrememberedhim.Buthecameforward
przyjemnie
pleasantlyenoughandacceptedthechairintowhichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.“Iamsogladtoseeyou,”saidthegirl,whowasinastateofspiritual
głodu
starvation,andwouldhavebeengladtoseethewaiterifhercousinhadpermittedit.“Justfancyhowsmalltheworldis.
SummerStreet,too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”
“MissHoneychurchlivesinthe
parafii
parishofSummerStreet,”saidMissBartlett,fillingupthelukę
gap,“andshehappenedtotellmeinthecourseofconversationthatyouhavejustacceptedtheliving—”.“Yes,Iheardfrommothersolastweek.
Shedidn’tknowthatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;
butIwrotebackatonce,andIsaid:
‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”saidthe
duchowny
clergyman.“ImoveintotheRectoryatSummerStreetnextJune.
Iamluckytobeappointedtosuchacharmingneighbourhood.”
“Oh,howgladIam!
ThenameofourhouseisWindyCorner.”
Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereismotherandme
ogólnie
generally,andmybrother,thoughit’snotoftenwegethimtoch——Thechurchisratherfaroff,Imean.”
“Lucy,dearest,letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”
“Iameatingit,thankyou,andenjoyingit.”
HepreferredtotalktoLucy,whoseplayingheremembered,ratherthantoMissBartlett,whoprobablyrememberedhissermons.
HeaskedthegirlwhethersheknewFlorencewell,andwasinformedatsomelengththatshehadneverbeentherebefore.
Itisdelightfultoadviseanewcomer,andhewasfirstinthefield.
“Don’t
zaniedbuj
neglectthecountryround,”hisadviceconcluded.“ThefirstfineafternoondriveuptoFiesole,androundbySettignano,orsomethingofthatsort.”
“No!”
criedavoicefromthetopofthetable.
“Mr.
Beebe,youarewrong.
ThefirstfineafternoonyourladiesmustgotoPrato.”
“Thatladylookssoclever,”whisperedMissBartletttohercousin.
“Weareinluck.”
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentofinformationburstonthem.
Peopletoldthemwhattosee,whentoseeit,howtostoptheelectrictrams,howtogetridofthebeggars,howmuchtogiveforavellumblotter,howmuchtheplacewouldgrowuponthem.
The
Pensjonat
PensionBertolinihaddecided,almostenthusiastically,thattheywoulddo.Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladiessmiledandshoutedatthem.
Andaboveallrosethevoiceofthecleverlady,crying:
“Prato!
TheymustgotoPrato.
Thatplaceistoo
słodko
sweetlysqualidforwords.Iloveit;
Irevelinshakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
TheyoungmannamedGeorgeglancedatthecleverlady,andthenreturnedmoodilytohisplate.
Obviouslyheandhisfatherdidnotdo.
Lucy,inthemidstofhersuccess,foundtimetowishtheydid.
Itgavehernoextrapleasurethatanyoneshouldbeleftinthecold;
andwhensherosetogo,sheturnedbackandgavethetwooutsidersanervouslittlebow.
Thefatherdidnotseeit;
theson
przyznał
acknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,butbyraisinghiseyebrowsandsmiling;heseemedtobesmilingacrosssomething.
Shehastenedafterhercousin,whohadalreadydisappearedthroughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmoteoneintheface,andseemedheavywithmorethan
tkaniny
cloth.BeyondthemstoodtheunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,andsupportedby’Enery,herlittleboy,andVictorier,herdaughter.
Itmadeacuriouslittlescene,thisattemptoftheCockneyto
przekazać
conveythegraceandgenialityoftheSouth.Andevenmorecuriouswasthedrawing-room,whichattemptedto
rywalizować
rivalthesolidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.WasthisreallyItaly?
MissBartlettwasalreadyseatedona
ściśle
tightlystuffedarm-chair,whichhadthekolor
colourandthecontoursofatomato.ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,andasshespoke,herlong
wąska
narrowheaddrovebackwardsandforwards,slowly,regularnie
regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewassaying.
“Thefirsteveningmeanssomuch.
Whenyouarrivedwewereinforapeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”
Heexpressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byanychance,knowthenameofanoldmanwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”
“Emerson.”
“Isheafriendofyours?”
“Wearefriendly—asoneisinpensions.”
“ThenIwillsaynomore.”
Hepressedhervery
lekko
slightly,andshesaidmore.“Iam,asitwere,”sheconcluded,“thechaperonofmyyoungcousin,Lucy,anditwouldbeaseriousthingifIputherunderanobligationtopeopleofwhomweknownothing.
Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
IhopeIactedforthebest.”
“Youactedverynaturally,”saidhe.
Heseemedthoughtful,andafterafewmomentsadded:
“Allthesame,Idon’tthinkmuchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”
“Noharm,ofcourse.
Butwecouldnotbeunderanobligation.”
“Heisratherapeculiarman.”
Againhehesitated,andthensaid
delikatnie
gently:“Ithinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyour
akceptacji
acceptance,norexpectyoutoshowgratitude.Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—ofsayingexactlywhathemeans.
Hehasroomshedoesnotvalue,andhethinksyouwouldvaluethem.
Henomorethoughtofputtingyouunderanobligationthanhethoughtofbeingpolite.
Itissodifficult—atleast,Ifinditdifficult—tounderstandpeoplewhospeakthetruth.”
Lucywaspleased,andsaid:
“Iwashopingthathewasnice;
Idosoalwayshopethatpeoplewillbenice.”
“Ithinkheis;
niceand
męczące
tiresome.Idifferfromhimonalmosteverypointofanyimportance,andso,Iexpect—ImaysayIhope—youwilldiffer.
Buthisisatypeonedisagreeswithratherthandeplores.
Whenhefirstcameherehenotunnaturallyputpeople’sbacksup.
Hehasno
taktu
tactandnomanners—Idon’tmeanbythatthathehasbadmanners—andhewillnotkeephisopinionstohimself.WenearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,butIamgladtosaywethoughtbetterofit.”
“AmItoconclude,”saidMissBartlett,“thatheisaSocialist?”
Mr.
Beebeacceptedthe
wygodne
convenientword,notwithoutaslighttwitchingofthelips.“And
prawdopodobnie
presumablyhehasbroughtuphissontobeaSocialist,too?”“IhardlyknowGeorge,forhehasn’tlearnttotalkyet.