ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignora
hade
hadnobusinesstodoit,”sa
saidMissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.She
lovade
promisedussouthroomswithen
aviewclosetogether,insteadofwhichhär
herearenorthrooms,lookingintoen
acourtyard,andalongväg
wayapart.Oh,Lucy!”
“And
en
aCockney,besides!”saidLucy,who
hade
hadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’soväntade
unexpectedaccent.“ItmightbeLondon.”
She
tittade
lookedatthetworowsofEnglishpeoplewhoweresatt
sittingatthetable;attherowof
vita
whitebottlesofwaterandröda
redbottlesofwinethatsprang
ranbetweentheEnglishpeople;attheportraitsofthelateQueen
och
andthelatePoetLaureatesom
thathungbehindtheEnglishpeople,tungt
heavilyframed;atthenoticeof
den
theEnglishchurch(Rev.CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),thatwasthe
enda
onlyotherdecorationoftheväggen
wall.“Charlotte,don’tyoufeel,
också
too,thatwemightbeinLondon?I
kan
canhardlybelievethatallkindsofandra
otherthingsarejustoutside.I
antar
supposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”“This
köttet
meathassurelybeenusedforsoup,”sa
saidMissBartlett,layingdownhergaffel
fork.“Iwantsoto
se
seetheArno.Therooms
de
theSignorapromisedusinherbrev
letterwouldhavelookedoverde
theArno.TheSignorahadnobusinessto
göra
doitatall.Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynookdoesforme,”
Fröken
MissBartlettcontinued;“butitdoes
verkar
seemhardthatyoushouldn’tha
haveaview.”Lucyfelt
att
thatshehadbeenselfish.“Charlotte,youmustn’t
skämma bort
spoilme:ofcourse,you
måste
mustlookovertheArno,också
too.Imeantthat.
The
första
firstvacantroominthefront—”“You
måste
musthaveit,”saidMissBartlett,partofvars
whosetravellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—apieceofgenerositet
generositytowhichshemademånga
manyatactfulallusion.“No,no.You
måste
musthaveit.”“Iinsistonit.
Your
mamma
motherwouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”“Shewould
aldrig
neverforgiveme.”Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—if
den
thesadtruthbeowned—alite
littlepeevish.Theyweretired,
och
andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.Några
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,och
andoneofthem—oneofde
theill-bredpeoplewhomonedoesmöter
meetabroad—leantforwardoverthebordet
tableandactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.He
sa
said:.“Ihaveaview,I
har
haveaview.”MissBartlettwasstartled.
Generallyat
en
apensionpeoplelookedthemoverforen
adayortwobeforetalade
speaking,andoftendidnotfindoutatt
thattheywould“do”tilltheyhade
hadgone.Sheknewthattheintruderwasill-bred,even
innan
beforesheglancedathim.Hewasan
gammal
oldman,ofheavybuild,med
withafair,shavenfaceoch
andlargeeyes.Therewas
något
somethingchildishinthoseeyes,thoughitwasnotdet
thechildishnessofsenility.What
exakt
exactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnotstannade
stoptoconsider,forherglancepassedontohiskläder
clothes.Thesedidnotattract
henne
her.Hewasprobablytryingto
bli
becomeacquaintedwiththembeforetheygotintode
theswim.Sosheassumed
ett
adazedexpressionwhenhespoketohenne
her,andthensaid:“Aview?
Oh,
en
aview!Howdelightfulaviewis!”
“Thisismyson,”
sa
saidtheoldman;“hisname’sGeorge.
He
har
hasaviewtoo.”“Ah,”
sa
saidMissBartlett,repressingLucy,whowasabouttospeak.“WhatImean,”he
fortsatte
continued,“isthatyoucanhaveourrooms,och
andwe’llhaveyours.We’llchange.”
The
bättre
betterclassoftouristwaschockade
shockedatthis,andsympathizedmed
withthenew-comers.MissBartlett,inreply,
öppnade
openedhermouthaslittleasmöjligt
possible,andsaid“Thankyouverymuchindeed;thatisoutof
det
thequestion.”“Why?”
saidtheold
mannen
man,withbothfistsonden
thetable.“Becauseitisquiteoutof
det
thequestion,thankyou.”“You
ser
see,wedon’tliketotake—”började
beganLucy.Hercousinagainrepressedher.
“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Women
gillar
likelookingataview;mendon’t.”
Och
Andhethumpedwithhisfistslikeett
anaughtychild,andturnedtohisson,sa
saying,“George,persuadethem!”“It’ssoobviousthey
borde
shouldhavetherooms,”saidde
theson.“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnot
tittade
lookattheladiesashetalade
spoke,buthisvoicewasperplexedoch
andsorrowful.Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
men
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatiskänt
knownas“quiteascene,”och
andshehadanoddkänt
feelingthatwhenevertheseill-bredtouriststalade
spokethecontestwidenedanddeepenedtillitdealt,notmed
withroomsandviews,butwith—well,med
withsomethingquitedifferent,whoseexistens
existenceshehadnotrealizedbefore.Nu
NowtheoldmanattackedMiss
MissBartlettalmostviolently:Whyshouldshenot
förändras
change?Whatpossibleobjectionhad
hon
she?Theywouldclearoutinhalfanhour.
Miss
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesofconversation,wasmaktlös
powerlessinthepresenceofbrutality.Itwas
omöjligt
impossibletosnubanyonesogross.Her
ansikte
facereddenedwithdispleasure.She
tittade
lookedaroundasmuchastosa
say,“Areyoualllikethis?”Och
Andtwolittleoldladies,whoweresatt
sittingfurtherupthetable,med
withshawlshangingoverthebacksofthechairs,tittade
lookedback,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;wearegenteel.”
“Eatyour
middag
dinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,och
andbegantotoyagainmed
withthemeatthatshehade
hadoncecensured.Lucymumbled
att
thatthoseseemedveryoddmänniskor
peopleopposite.“Eatyourdinner,dear.
Här
Thispensionisafailure.To-morrowwe
kommer
willmakeachange.”Hardly
hade
hadsheannouncedthisfellbeslut
decisionwhenshereversedit.Thecurtainsatthe
slutet
endoftheroomparted,och
andrevealedaclergyman,stoutmen
butattractive,whohurriedforwardtota
takehisplaceatthebordet
table,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.Lucy,who
hade
hadnotyetacquireddecency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:“Oh,oh!
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!
Oh,howperfectlylovely!
Oh,Charlotte,we
måste
muststopnow,howeverbadtheroomsär
are.Oh!”
MissBartlettsaid,
med
withmorerestraint:.“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
I
förväntar
expectthatyouhaveforgottenoss
us:MissBartlettandMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWells
när
whenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’ssom
thatverycoldEaster.”Theclergyman,whohad
de
theairofoneonen
aholiday,didnotrememberde
theladiesquiteasclearlyastheyrememberedhonom
him.Buthecameforwardpleasantly
nog
enoughandacceptedthechairintowhichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.“Iamso
glad
gladtoseeyou,”saiddet
thegirl,whowasinett
astateofspiritualstarvation,och
andwouldhavebeengladtose
seethewaiterifherkusin
cousinhadpermittedit.“Justfancy
hur
howsmalltheworldis.Summer
Street
Street,too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”“MissHoneychurchlivesin
de
theparishofSummerStreet,”sa
saidMissBartlett,fillingupde
thegap,“andshehappenedtoberätta
tellmeinthecourseofconversationthatyouhar
havejustacceptedtheliving—”.“Yes,I
hörde
heardfrommothersolastweek.Shedidn’tknow
att
thatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;men
butIwrotebackatonce,och
andIsaid:‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”
sa
saidtheclergyman.“ImoveintotheRectoryatSummer
Street
StreetnextJune.Iamluckytobeappointedtosuch
ett
acharmingneighbourhood.”“Oh,how
glad
gladIam!Thenameofour
hus
houseisWindyCorner.”Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereis
mamma
motherandmegenerally,andmybror
brother,thoughit’snotoftenwefår
gethimtoch——The
kyrkan
churchisratherfaroff,Imean.”“Lucy,dearest,
låt
letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”“Iam
äter
eatingit,thankyou,andnjuter
enjoyingit.”Hepreferredto
prata
talktoLucy,whoseplayingheremembered,snarare
ratherthantoMissBartlett,whoförmodligen
probablyrememberedhissermons.He
frågade
askedthegirlwhethershekände
knewFlorencewell,andwasinformedatsomelengthatt
thatshehadneverbeentherebefore.Itisdelightfulto
råd
adviseanewcomer,andhewasförst
firstinthefield.“Don’tneglectthecountryround,”his
råd
adviceconcluded.“Thefirstfineafternoon
kör
driveuptoFiesole,androundbySettignano,eller
orsomethingofthatsort.”“No!”
cried
en
avoicefromthetopofthebordet
table.“Mr.
Beebe,youarewrong.
Den
Thefirstfineafternoonyourladiesmåste
mustgotoPrato.”“That
damen
ladylookssoclever,”whisperedFröken
MissBartletttohercousin.“Weareinluck.”
Och
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentofinformation
informationburstonthem.People
berättade
toldthemwhattosee,när
whentoseeit,howtostoppa
stoptheelectrictrams,howtogetridofthebeggars,hur
howmuchtogiveforen
avellumblotter,howmuchtheplacewouldväxa
growuponthem.ThePensionBertolini
hade
haddecided,almostenthusiastically,thattheywouldgöra
do.Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladies
log
smiledandshoutedatthem.Och
Andaboveallrosetherösten
voiceofthecleverlady,crying:“Prato!
They
måste
mustgotoPrato.Thatplaceistoo
sött
sweetlysqualidforwords.I
älskar
loveit;Irevelin
skaka
shakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”Den
TheyoungmannamedGeorgeglancedatden
thecleverlady,andthenåtervände
returnedmoodilytohisplate.Uppenbarligen
Obviouslyheandhisfathergjorde
didnotdo.Lucy,inthemidstofher
framgång
success,foundtimetowishtheygjorde
did.Itgaveherno
extra
extrapleasurethatanyoneshouldbeleftindet
thecold;andwhensheroseto
gå
go,sheturnedbackandgav
gavethetwooutsidersanervös
nervouslittlebow.Thefatherdidnot
såg
seeit;thesonacknowledgedit,notby
en annan
anotherbow,butbyraisinghiseyebrowsoch
andsmiling;heseemedtobe
le
smilingacrosssomething.Shehastenedafterher
kusin
cousin,whohadalreadydisappearedgenom
throughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmoteoneintheface,och
andseemedheavywithmoreän
thancloth.Beyondthemstood
den
theunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,och
andsupportedby’Enery,herlilla
littleboy,andVictorier,herdotter
daughter.Itmadeacurious
liten
littlescene,thisattemptofdet
theCockneytoconveythenåd
graceandgenialityoftheSöder
South.Andevenmorecuriouswas
den
thedrawing-room,whichattemptedtorivalden
thesolidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.Was
här
thisreallyItaly?MissBartlettwas
redan
alreadyseatedonatightlystuffedarm-chair,whichhade
hadthecolourandthecontoursofen
atomato.ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,
och
andasshespoke,herlongsmala
narrowheaddrovebackwardsandforwards,långsamt
slowly,regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeinvisiblehinder
obstacle.“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewas
sa
saying.“Thefirsteveningmeansso
mycket
much.Whenyouarrivedwewereinfor
en
apeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”He
uttryckte
expressedhisregret.“Doyou,byanychance,
känner
knowthenameofangammal
oldmanwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”“Emerson.”
“Ishea
vän
friendofyours?”“Wearefriendly—as
man
oneisinpensions.”“ThenIwill
säger
saynomore.”Hepressedher
mycket
veryslightly,andshesaidmer
more.“Iam,asitwere,”she
avslutade
concluded,“thechaperonofmyunga
youngcousin,Lucy,anditwouldbeen
aseriousthingifIlade
putherunderanobligationtomänniskor
peopleofwhomweknownågot
nothing.Hismannerwassomewhat
olyckligt
unfortunate.IhopeIactedfor
det
thebest.”“Youactedverynaturally,”
sa
saidhe.Heseemedthoughtful,
och
andafterafewmomentstillade
added:“Allthesame,Idon’t
tror
thinkmuchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”“No
skada
harm,ofcourse.Butwe
kan
couldnotbeunderanobligation.”“Heis
ganska
ratherapeculiarman.”Againhe
tvekade
hesitated,andthensaidgently:“I
tror
thinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptans
acceptance,norexpectyoutovisa
showgratitude.Hehasthemerit—ifitisone—of
säga
sayingexactlywhathemeans.He
har
hasroomshedoesnotvalue,och
andhethinksyouwouldvaluedem
them.Henomorethoughtofputtingyouunderanobligation
än
thanhethoughtofbeingartig
polite.Itissodifficult—at
åtminstone
least,Ifinditdifficult—toförstå
understandpeoplewhospeakthetruth.”Lucywaspleased,
och
andsaid:“Iwashoping
att
thathewasnice;Idoso
alltid
alwayshopethatpeoplewillbenice.”“I
tror
thinkheis;niceand
tröttsamt
tiresome.Idifferfromhimon
nästan
almosteverypointofanyimportance,och
andso,Iexpect—Imaysäga
sayIhope—youwilldiffer.Men
Buthisisatypeman
onedisagreeswithratherthandeplores.När
Whenhefirstcameherehenotunnaturallysatte
putpeople’sbacksup.He
har
hasnotactandnomanners—Idon’tmenar
meanbythatthathehar
hasbadmanners—andhewillnothålla
keephisopinionstohimself.We
nästan
nearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdeprimerande
depressingSignora,butIamglad
gladtosaywethoughtbättre
betterofit.”“AmItoconclude,”
sa
saidMissBartlett,“thatheisaSocialist?”Mr.
Beebe
accepterade
acceptedtheconvenientword,notwithouten
aslighttwitchingofthelips.“And
förmodligen
presumablyhehasbroughtuphissontobeaSocialist,too?”“I
knappt
hardlyknowGeorge,forhehasn’tlärt
learnttotalkyet.