ChapterITheBertolini
“TheSignorahad
не
nobusinesstodoit,”saidМіс
MissBartlett,“nobusinessatall.Shepromisedussouthroomswith
на
aviewclosetogether,insteadofяких
whichherearenorthrooms,lookingintoна
acourtyard,andalongwayapart.Oh,Lucy!”
“AndaCockney,besides!”
saidLucy,whohadbeenfurthersaddenedbytheSignora’sunexpectedaccent.
“ItmightbeLondon.”
Shelookedatthe
два
tworowsofEnglishpeopleякі
whoweresittingatthetable;attherowofwhitebottlesof
води
waterandredbottlesofwineщо
thatranbetweentheEnglishpeople;attheportraitsofthelateQueen
та
andthelatePoetLaureateщо
thathungbehindtheEnglishpeople,heavilyframed;atthenoticeoftheEnglishchurch(Rev.
CuthbertEager,M.A.
Oxon.),thatwastheonlyotherdecorationofthewall.
“Charlotte,don’tyoufeel,
теж
too,thatwemightbeinLondon?I
можу
canhardlybelievethatallkindsofінші
otherthingsarejustoutside.Isupposeitisone’sbeingsotired.”
“Thismeathassurelybeenusedforsoup,”said
Міс
MissBartlett,layingdownherfork.“I
хочу
wantsotoseetheArno.На
TheroomstheSignorapromisedusinherletterwouldhavelookedoverна
theArno.TheSignorahad
не
nobusinesstodoitatall.Oh,itisashame!”
“Anynookdoesforme,”
Міс
MissBartlettcontinued;“butitdoesseemhard
що
thatyoushouldn’thaveaview.”Lucyfelt
що
thatshehadbeenselfish.“Charlotte,youmustn’tspoil
мене
me:ofcourse,youmustlookover
на
theArno,too.Imeantthat.
The
перша
firstvacantroominthefront—”“Youmusthaveit,”said
Міс
MissBartlett,partofwhosetravellingexpenseswerepaidbyLucy’smother—apieceofgenerositytoяких
whichshemademanyatactfulallusion.“No,
ні
no.Youmusthaveit.”“Iinsistonit.
Your
мати
motherwouldneverforgiveme,Lucy.”“Shewouldneverforgiveme.”
Theladies’voicesgrewanimated,and—ifthesadtruthbeowned—a
трохи
littlepeevish.Theyweretired,
і
andundertheguiseofunselfishnesstheywrangled.Деякі
Someoftheirneighboursinterchangedglances,і
andoneofthem—oneoftheill-bredлюдей
peoplewhomonedoesmeetabroad—leantforwardнад
overthetableandactuallyintrudedintotheirargument.Hesaid:.
“I
є
haveaview,Ihaveaview.”Міс
MissBartlettwasstartled.Generallyatapension
люди
peoplelookedthemoverforaдня
dayortwobeforespeaking,і
andoftendidnotfindoutщо
thattheywould“do”tilltheyhadgone.Sheknew
що
thattheintruderwasill-bred,ще
evenbeforesheglancedatнього
him.Hewasanold
чоловік
man,ofheavybuild,withafair,shavenfaceі
andlargeeyes.Therewas
щось
somethingchildishinthoseeyes,хоча
thoughitwasnotthechildishnessofsenility.What
саме
exactlyitwasMissBartlettdidnotstoptoconsider,forherglancepassedontohisclothes.Thesedidnotattract
її
her.Hewasprobablytryingtobecomeacquainted
з
withthembeforetheygotintotheswim.Sosheassumedadazedexpression
коли
whenhespoketoher,а
andthensaid:“Aview?
Oh,aview!
Howdelightfulaviewis!”
“Thisismyson,”saidthe
старий
oldman;“hisname’sGeorge.
Hehasaviewtoo.”
“Ah,”said
Міс
MissBartlett,repressingLucy,whowasabouttoговорити
speak.“WhatImean,”hecontinued,“isthatyou
можете
canhaveourrooms,andwe’llмати
haveyours.We’llchange.”
Thebetter
клас
classoftouristwasshockedatthis,і
andsympathizedwiththenew-comers.Міс
MissBartlett,inreply,openedhermouthaslittleaspossible,і
andsaid“Thankyouverymuchindeed;thatisoutofthequestion.”
“Why?”
saidthe
старий
oldman,withbothfistsonthetable.“Becauseitis
зовсім
quiteoutofthequestion,thankyou.”“Yousee,wedon’tliketotake—”
beganLucy.
Hercousin
знову
againrepressedher.“Butwhy?”
hepersisted.
“Womenlikelookingataview;
mendon’t.”
І
Andhethumpedwithhisfistsяк
likeanaughtychild,andturnedtohisсина
son,saying,“George,persuadethem!”“It’ssoobvioustheyshouldhavetherooms,”saidthe
син
son.“There’snothingelsetosay.”
Hedidnotlookattheladiesashespoke,
але
buthisvoicewasperplexedі
andsorrowful.Lucy,too,wasperplexed;
butshesawthattheywereinforwhatisknownas“quiteascene,”andshehadanoddfeelingthatwhenever
ці
theseill-bredtouristsspokethecontestwidenedanddeepenedtillitdealt,notз
withroomsandviews,butwith—well,з
withsomethingquitedifferent,whoseexistenceshehadnotrealizedраніше
before.Nowtheoldmanattacked
Міс
MissBartlettalmostviolently:Whyshouldshenotchange?
Whatpossibleobjectionhadshe?
Theywouldclearoutinhalfanhour.
Міс
MissBartlett,thoughskilledinthedelicaciesofconversation,waspowerlessinthepresenceofbrutality.Itwasimpossibletosnubanyonesogross.
Her
обличчя
facereddenedwithdispleasure.Shelooked
навколо
aroundasmuchastoсказати
say,“Areyoualllikethis?”І
Andtwolittleoldladies,які
whoweresittingfurtherupна
thetable,withshawlshangingoverна
thebacksofthechairs,lookedназад
back,clearlyindicating“Wearenot;wearegenteel.”
“Eatyourdinner,dear,”shesaidtoLucy,
і
andbegantotoyagainз
withthemeatthatshehadколись
oncecensured.Lucymumbledthat
ці
thoseseemedveryoddpeopleopposite.“Eatyour
обід
dinner,dear.Thispensionisafailure.
Завтра
To-morrowwewillmakeachange.”Hardlyhadsheannouncedthisfelldecisionwhenshereversedit.
Thecurtainsatthe
кінці
endoftheroomparted,і
andrevealedaclergyman,stoutале
butattractive,whohurriedforwardtoзайняти
takehisplaceatthetable,cheerfullyapologizingforhislateness.Lucy,whohadnot
ще
yetacquireddecency,atoncerosetoherfeet,exclaiming:“Oh,oh!
Чому
Why,it’sMr.Beebe!Oh,
як
howperfectlylovely!Oh,Charlotte,we
повинні
muststopnow,howeverbadtheroomsare.Oh!”
Міс
MissBartlettsaid,withmorerestraint:.“Howdoyoudo,Mr.Beebe?
Iexpect
що
thatyouhaveforgottenus:Міс
MissBartlettandMissHoneychurch,whowereatTunbridgeWellsколи
whenyouhelpedtheVicarofSt.Peter’sthatдуже
verycoldEaster.”Theclergyman,
який
whohadtheairofoneonaholiday,didnotremembertheladiesquiteasclearlyastheyrememberedйого
him.Buthecameforwardpleasantly
досить
enoughandacceptedthechairintoякий
whichhewasbeckonedbyLucy.“Iamsogladtoseeyou,”saidthegirl,whowasinastateofspiritualstarvation,
і
andwouldhavebeengladtoseethewaiterifhercousinhadpermittedце
it.“Justfancyhowsmallthe
світ
worldis.SummerStreet,too,makesitsospeciallyfunny.”
“MissHoneychurchlivesintheparishofSummerStreet,”said
Міс
MissBartlett,fillingupthegap,“andshehappenedtotellmeinthecourseofconversationщо
thatyouhavejustacceptedtheliving—”.“Yes,Iheardfrom
матері
mothersolastweek.Shedidn’tknow
що
thatIknewyouatTunbridgeWells;але
butIwrotebackatonce,і
andIsaid:‘Mr.
Beebeis—’”.
“Quiteright,”saidtheclergyman.
“ImoveintotheRectoryatSummer
Стріт
StreetnextJune.Iam
пощастило
luckytobeappointedtoтакого
suchacharmingneighbourhood.”“Oh,
як
howgladIam!The
назва
nameofourhouseisWindyCorner.”Mr.Beebebowed.
“Thereis
мати
motherandmegenerally,andmyбрат
brother,thoughit’snotoftenwegethimtoch——На
Thechurchisratherfaroff,Imean.”“Lucy,dearest,
дозвольте
letMr.Beebeeathisdinner.”“Iameating
його
it,thankyou,andenjoyingit.”HepreferredtotalktoLucy,whoseplayingheremembered,ratherthanto
Міс
MissBartlett,whoprobablyrememberedhissermons.HeaskedthegirlwhethersheknewFlorence
добре
well,andwasinformedatsomelengthщо
thatshehadneverbeenтам
therebefore.Itisdelightfultoadviseanewcomer,
а
andhewasfirstinthefield.“Don’tneglectthecountryround,”hisadviceconcluded.
“The
перший
firstfineafternoondriveuptoFiesole,і
androundbySettignano,orщось
somethingofthatsort.”“No!”
criedavoicefromthe
верхньої
topofthetable.“Mr.
Beebe,youarewrong.
The
перший
firstfineafternoonyourladiesповинні
mustgotoPrato.”“That
дама
ladylookssoclever,”whisperedМіс
MissBartletttohercousin.“Weareinluck.”
І
And,indeed,aperfecttorrentofinformationburstonних
them.Peopletoldthemwhattosee,
коли
whentoseeit,howtoзупинити
stoptheelectrictrams,howtogetridofthebeggars,як
howmuchtogiveforavellumblotter,як
howmuchtheplacewouldgrowuponthem.ThePensionBertolinihaddecided,
майже
almostenthusiastically,thattheywoulddo.Whicheverwaytheylooked,kindladiessmiled
і
andshoutedatthem.Andaboveallrosethevoiceoftheclever
леді
lady,crying:“Prato!
Theymust
піти
gotoPrato.Thatplaceis
надто
toosweetlysqualidforwords.Ilove
це
it;Irevelinshakingoffthetrammelsofrespectability,asyouknow.”
Theyoung
чоловік
mannamedGeorgeglancedatthecleverледі
lady,andthenreturnedmoodilytohisplate.Obviouslyheandhis
батько
fatherdidnotdo.Lucy,inthemidstofhersuccess,found
час
timetowishtheydid.Itgaveher
не
noextrapleasurethatanyoneshouldbeleftinна
thecold;andwhensheroseto
піти
go,sheturnedbackandgavethetwooutsidersanervousмаленький
littlebow.Thefatherdidnotseeit;
the
син
sonacknowledgedit,notbyanotherbow,butbyraisinghiseyebrowsandsmiling;heseemedtobesmilingacross
щось
something.Shehastenedafterhercousin,whohad
вже
alreadydisappearedthroughthecurtains—curtainswhichsmoteoneintheобличчя
face,andseemedheavywithбільш
morethancloth.BeyondthemstoodtheunreliableSignora,bowinggood-eveningtoherguests,
і
andsupportedby’Enery,herмаленький
littleboy,andVictorier,herдочка
daughter.Itmadeacuriouslittlescene,thisattemptoftheCockneytoconveythegrace
і
andgenialityoftheSouth.І
Andevenmorecuriouswasthedrawing-room,яка
whichattemptedtorivalthesolidcomfortofaBloomsburyboarding-house.Was
це
thisreallyItaly?MissBartlettwas
вже
alreadyseatedonatightlystuffedarm-chair,який
whichhadthecolourandthecontoursofatomato.ShewastalkingtoMr.Beebe,
і
andasshespoke,herlongnarrowголова
headdrovebackwardsandforwards,slowly,regularly,asthoughsheweredemolishingsomeinvisibleobstacle.“Wearemostgratefultoyou,”shewassaying.
“The
перший
firsteveningmeanssomuch.Коли
Whenyouarrivedwewereinforapeculiarlymauvaisquartd’heure.”Heexpressedhisregret.
“Doyou,byanychance,
знаєте
knowthenameofanстарого
oldmanwhosatoppositeusatdinner?”“Emerson.”
“Ishea
друг
friendofyours?”“Wearefriendly—asoneisinpensions.”
“ThenIwillsay
не
nomore.”Hepressedher
дуже
veryslightly,andshesaidбільше
more.“Iam,asitwere,”sheconcluded,“thechaperonofmyyoungcousin,Lucy,
і
anditwouldbeaseriousthingifIputherunderanobligationtoлюдьми
peopleofwhomweknowнічого
nothing.Hismannerwassomewhatunfortunate.
I
сподіваюся
hopeIactedforthebest.”“Youacted
дуже
verynaturally,”saidhe.Heseemedthoughtful,
і
andafterafewmomentsadded:“Allthesame,Idon’t
думаю
thinkmuchharmwouldhavecomeofaccepting.”“Noharm,ofcourse.
Але
Butwecouldnotbeпід
underanobligation.”“Heisratherapeculiarman.”
Знову
Againhehesitated,andthensaidgently:“I
думаю
thinkhewouldnottakeadvantageofyouracceptance,norexpectyoutoshowgratitude.Hehas
на
themerit—ifitisone—ofsayingсаме
exactlywhathemeans.Hehasroomshedoesnotvalue,
і
andhethinksyouwouldvalueїх
them.Henomorethoughtofputtingyou
під
underanobligationthanhethoughtofbeingpolite.Itissodifficult—atleast,Ifinditdifficult—tounderstand
людей
peoplewhospeakthetruth.”Lucywaspleased,
і
andsaid:“Iwashoping
що
thathewasnice;Idoso
завжди
alwayshopethatpeoplewillbenice.”“I
думаю
thinkheis;niceandtiresome.
Idifferfromhimon
майже
almosteverypointofanyimportance,і
andso,Iexpect—Imayсказати
sayIhope—youwilldiffer.Але
Buthisisatypeonedisagreesз
withratherthandeplores.Whenhefirstcame
сюди
herehenotunnaturallyputpeople’sbacksup.Hehasnotact
і
andnomanners—Idon’tmeanbyщо
thatthathehasbadmanners—andhewillnotkeephisopinionstohimself.WenearlycomplainedabouthimtoourdepressingSignora,
але
butIamgladtoсказати
saywethoughtbetterofit.”“AmItoconclude,”said
Міс
MissBartlett,“thatheisaSocialist?”Mr.
Beebeacceptedtheconvenient
слово
word,notwithoutaslighttwitchingofthelips.“Andpresumablyhehasbroughtuphis
сина
sontobeaSocialist,too?”“Ihardly
знаю
knowGeorge,forhehasn’tlearnttoговорити
talkyet.