ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignora
tenía
hadnobusinesstodoit,”dijo
saidMissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.She
prometió
promisedussouthroomswithun
aviewclosetogether,insteadofwhichaquí
herearenorthrooms,lookingintoun
acourtyard,andalongwayapart.Oh,Lucy!”
“And
un
aCockney,besides!”saidLucy,who
había
hadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sunexpectedaccent.“It
podría
mightbeLondon.”Shelookedatthe
dos
tworowsofEnglishpeoplewhoweresittingatthetable;attherowofwhitebottlesofwater
y
andredbottlesofwinethatcorrían
ranbetweentheEnglishpeople;attheportraitsofthelateQueen
y
andthelatePoetLaureatethatcolgaban
hungbehindtheEnglishpeople,heavilyframed;atthenoticeoftheEnglishchurch(Rev.
CuthbertEager,M.
Un
A.Oxon.),thatwasthe
única
onlyotherdecorationofthewall.“Charlotte,don’tyou
sientes
feel,too,thatwemightbeinLondon?I
puedo
canhardlybelievethatallkindsofotherthingsarejustafuera
outside.Isupposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”
“Thismeat
ha
hassurelybeenusedforsoup,”dijo
saidMissBartlett,layingdownherfork.“I
quiero
wantsotoseetheArno.TheroomstheSignora
prometió
promisedusinherletterwouldtendrían
havelookedovertheArno.La
TheSignorahadnobusinesstodoitatall.Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynook
hace
doesforme,”MissBartlettcontinued;“butitdoesseem
difícil
hardthatyoushouldn’thaveuna
aview.”Lucyfeltthatshe
había
hadbeenselfish.“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoilme:
of
supuesto
course,youmustlookovertheArno,también
too.Imeantthat.
The
primera
firstvacantroominthefront—”“You
debe
musthaveit,”saidMissBartlett,partofwhosetravellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—apieceofgenerositytowhichshehizo
mademanyatactfulallusion.“No,
no
no.Youmusthaveit.”“Iinsistonit.
Your
madre
motherwouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”“Shewould
nunca
neverforgiveme.”Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—ifthesadtruthbeowned—a
poco
littlepeevish.Theyweretired,
y
andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.Algunos
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,y
andoneofthem—oneoftheill-bredpersonas
peoplewhomonedoesmeetabroad—leantforwardsobre
overthetableandactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.He
dijo
said:.“Ihaveaview,I
tengo
haveaview.”MissBartlettwasstartled.
Generallyatapension
gente
peoplelookedthemoverforadía
dayortwobeforespeaking,y
andoftendidnotfindoutthattheyido
would“do”tilltheyhadido
gone.Sheknewthattheintruderwasill-bred,
incluso
evenbeforesheglancedathim.Hewasanoldman,ofheavybuild,
con
withafair,shavenfacey
andlargeeyes.Therewas
algo
somethingchildishinthoseeyes,aunque
thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.What
exactamente
exactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnotstoptoconsider,forherglancepassedontohisclothes.Estos
Thesedidnotattracther.Hewas
probablemente
probablytryingtobecomeacquaintedcon
withthembeforetheygotintotheswim.Sosheassumed
una
adazedexpressionwhenhehabló
spoketoher,andthendijo
said:“Aview?
Oh,aview!
Howdelightfulaviewis!”
“Thisismyson,”
dijo
saidtheoldman;“hisname’sGeorge.
He
tiene
hasaviewtoo.”“Ah,”
dijo
saidMissBartlett,repressingLucy,whowasabouttohablar
speak.“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“isthatyou
puedes
canhaveourrooms,andwe’lltener
haveyours.We’llchange.”
The
mejor
betterclassoftouristwasshockedatesto
this,andsympathizedwiththenew-comers.Srta
MissBartlett,inreply,openedhermouthaslittleasposible
possible,andsaid“Thankyouverymuchindeed;eso
thatisoutofthequestion.”“Why?”
dijo
saidtheoldman,withambos
bothfistsonthetable.“Becauseitisquite
fuera
outofthequestion,thankyou.”“You
ves
see,wedon’tliketotake—”beganLucy.
Hercousin
de nuevo
againrepressedher.“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Women
gusta
likelookingataview;mendon’t.”
Y
Andhethumpedwithhisfistscomo
likeanaughtychild,andturnedtohisson,diciendo
saying,“George,persuadethem!”“It’ssoobviousthey
deberían
shouldhavetherooms,”saidthehijo
son.“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnot
miró
lookattheladiesashehablaba
spoke,buthisvoicewasperplexedy
andsorrowful.Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
butshe
vio
sawthattheywereinforwhatisconoce
knownas“quiteascene,”y
andshehadanoddfeelingthatwheneverestos
theseill-bredtouristsspokethecontestwidenedy
anddeepenedtillitdealt,notcon
withroomsandviews,butwith—well,con
withsomethingquitedifferent,whoseexistenceshehadnotrealizedantes
before.Nowtheoldmanattacked
Srta
MissBartlettalmostviolently:Why
debería
shouldshenotchange?Whatpossibleobjectionhadshe?
They
irían
wouldclearoutinhalfanhour.Srta
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesofconversation,waspowerlessinthepresenceofbrutality.Itwasimpossibletosnubanyonesogross.
Her
rostro
facereddenedwithdispleasure.She
miró
lookedaroundasmuchastodecir
say,“Areyoualllikethis?”Y
Andtwolittleoldladies,whoweresittingfurtherarriba
upthetable,withshawlscolgando
hangingoverthebacksofthechairs,miraron
lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;wearegenteel.”
“Eatyour
cena
dinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,y
andbegantotoyagaincon
withthemeatthatshehabía
hadoncecensured.Lucymumbledthatthoseseemed
muy
veryoddpeopleopposite.“Eatyour
cena
dinner,dear.Thispensionis
un
afailure.To-morrowwewill
haremos
makeachange.”Hardlyhadsheannounced
esta
thisfelldecisionwhenshereversedit.Thecurtainsatthe
extremo
endoftheroomparted,y
andrevealedaclergyman,stoutpero
butattractive,whohurriedforwardtotomar
takehisplaceatthetable,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.Lucy,who
había
hadnotyetacquireddecency,atinmediato
oncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:“Oh,oh!
Por qué
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!Oh,howperfectlylovely!
Oh,Charlotte,we
debemos
muststopnow,howeverbadlas
theroomsare.Oh!”
MissBartlett
dijo
said,withmorerestraint:.“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
Iexpectthatyou
hayas
haveforgottenus:MissBartlett
y
andMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWellscuando
whenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sesa
thatverycoldEaster.”Theclergyman,who
tenía
hadtheairofoneonaholiday,didnotremembertheladiesquiteasclearlyastheyrememberedhim.Pero
Buthecameforwardpleasantlyenoughy
andacceptedthechairintowhichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.“Iamsogladto
ver
seeyou,”saidthegirl,whowasinun
astateofspiritualstarvation,y
andwouldhavebeengladtover
seethewaiterifhercousinhadpermittedit.“Justfancyhow
pequeño
smalltheworldis.SummerStreet,
también
too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”“MissHoneychurchlivesintheparishofSummerStreet,”
dijo
saidMissBartlett,fillingupthegap,“andshehappenedtodijo
tellmeinthecourseofconversationthatyouhaveacaba
justacceptedtheliving—”.“Yes,I
oí
heardfrommothersolastsemana
week.Shedidn’tknowthatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;
pero
butIwrotebackatinmediato
once,andIsaid:‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”
dijo
saidtheclergyman.“ImoveintotheRectoryatSummer
Calle
StreetnextJune.Iam
suerte
luckytobeappointedtotan
suchacharmingneighbourhood.”“Oh,howgladIam!
El
ThenameofourhouseisWindyCorner.”Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereis
madre
motherandmegenerally,andmyhermano
brother,thoughit’snotoftenwehacemos
gethimtoch——Thechurchisrather
lejos
faroff,Imean.”“Lucy,dearest,
deja
letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”“Iam
comiendo
eatingit,thankyou,andenjoyingit.”Hepreferredto
hablar
talktoLucy,whoseplayingherecordaba
remembered,ratherthantoMissBartlett,whoprobablemente
probablyrememberedhissermons.He
preguntó
askedthegirlwhethersheconocía
knewFlorencewell,andwasinformedatsomelengththatshehabía
hadneverbeentherebefore.Itisdelightfultoadvise
un
anewcomer,andhewasprimero
firstinthefield.“Don’tneglect
el
thecountryround,”hisadviceconcluded.“The
primera
firstfineafternoondriveuptoFiesole,y
androundbySettignano,oralgo
somethingofthatsort.”“No!”
cried
una
avoicefromthetopofla
thetable.“Mr.
Beebe,youarewrong.
La
Thefirstfineafternoonyourladiesdeben
mustgotoPrato.”“That
dama
ladylookssoclever,”whisperedSrta
MissBartletttohercousin.“Weareinluck.”
Y
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentofinformationburstonellos
them.Peopletoldthemwhatto
ver
see,whentoseeit,cómo
howtostoptheelectrictrams,cómo
howtogetridofthebeggars,cómo
howmuchtogiveforun
avellumblotter,howmuchthelugar
placewouldgrowuponthem.La
ThePensionBertolinihaddecided,casi
almostenthusiastically,thattheywouldharían
do.Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladiessmiled
y
andshoutedatthem.Andabove
todo
allrosethevoiceofla
thecleverlady,crying:“Prato!
They
deben
mustgotoPrato.That
lugar
placeistoosweetlysqualidforwords.I
encanta
loveit;Irevelinshakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
The
joven
youngmannamedGeorgeglancedatthecleverdama
lady,andthenreturnedmoodilytohisplate.Obviouslyhe
y
andhisfatherdidnothicieron
do.Lucy,inthemidstofhersuccess,
encontró
foundtimetowishtheyhicieran
did.Itgavehernoextrapleasurethatanyone
debiera
shouldbeleftinthefrío
cold;andwhensherosetogo,sheturnedback
y
andgavethetwooutsidersuna
anervouslittlebow.The
padre
fatherdidnotseeit;the
hijo
sonacknowledgedit,notbyotra
anotherbow,butbyraisinghiseyebrowsy
andsmiling;heseemedtobesmilingacross
algo
something.Shehastenedafterhercousin,who
había
hadalreadydisappearedthroughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmoteuno
oneintheface,andseemedheavycon
withmorethancloth.Beyondthemstood
la
theunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,y
andsupportedby’Enery,herlittleniño
boy,andVictorier,herdaughter.It
hizo
madeacuriouslittlescene,este
thisattemptoftheCockneytoconveyla
thegraceandgenialityofla
theSouth.Andevenmorecuriouswasthedrawing-room,whichattemptedtorivalthesolidcomfortof
una
aBloomsburyboarding-house.Wasthis
realmente
reallyItaly?MissBartlettwasalreadyseatedon
un
atightlystuffedarm-chair,whichtenía
hadthecolourandthecontoursofun
atomato.ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,
y
andasshespoke,herlongnarrowcabeza
headdrovebackwardsandforwards,slowly,regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewas
decía
saying.“Thefirsteveningmeanssomuch.
Cuando
Whenyouarrivedwewereinforun
apeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”Heexpressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byany
casualidad
chance,knowthenameofun
anoldmanwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”“Emerson.”
“Ishe
un
afriendofyours?”“Wearefriendly—as
uno
oneisinpensions.”“ThenIwill
diré
saynomore.”Hepressedher
muy
veryslightly,andshesaidmás
more.“Iam,asitwere,”sheconcluded,“thechaperonofmy
joven
youngcousin,Lucy,anditsería
wouldbeaseriousthingsi
ifIputherunderanobligationtopersonas
peopleofwhomweknownada
nothing.Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
I
espero
hopeIactedforthebest.”“Youacted
muy
verynaturally,”saidhe.Heseemedthoughtful,
y
andafterafewmomentsadded:“Allthesame,Idon’t
creo
thinkmuchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”“Noharm,of
supuesto
course.Butwecouldnotbe
bajo
underanobligation.”“Heisrather
un
apeculiarman.”Againhehesitated,
y
andthensaidgently:“I
creo
thinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptance,norexpectyoutomostraras
showgratitude.Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—of
decir
sayingexactlywhathemeans.He
tiene
hasroomshedoesnotvalue,y
andhethinksyouwouldvaluethem.He
no
nomorethoughtofputtingyouunderanobligationthanhepensó
thoughtofbeingpolite.Itissodifficult—at
menos
least,Ifinditdifficult—toentender
understandpeoplewhospeakthetruth.”Lucywaspleased,
y
andsaid:“Iwashopingthathewasnice;
Idoso
siempre
alwayshopethatpeoplewillbenice.”“I
creo
thinkheis;niceandtiresome.
Idifferfromhimon
casi
almosteverypointofanyimportance,y
andso,Iexpect—Imaydecir
sayIhope—youwilldiffer.Pero
Buthisisatypeonedisagreescon
withratherthandeplores.Whenhe
primera
firstcameherehenotunnaturallypusiera
putpeople’sbacksup.Hehas
no
notactandnomanners—Idon’tdecir
meanbythatthathehasbadmanners—andhequiero
willnotkeephisopinionstohimself.WenearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,
pero
butIamgladtodecir
saywethoughtbetterofit.”“AmItoconclude,”
dijo
saidMissBartlett,“thatheisun
aSocialist?”Mr.
Beebeacceptedtheconvenient
palabra
word,notwithoutaslighttwitchingofthelips.“Andpresumablyhe
ha
hasbroughtuphissontobeaSocialist,too?”“Ihardly
conozco
knowGeorge,forhehasn’tlearnttohablar
talkyet.