Minna looked critically at the Nymph Bathing a shameless hussy, truly, if ever there was one and answered in a chilly voice, I like it the least of all your statues, if you care to have my opinion, Colin.
Well, now, Im awfully sorry for that, Minna, Colin went on seriously, regarding the work with that despondent eye with which one always views ones own performances after hearing by any chance an adverse criticism; for I rather liked the nymph myself, you know, and I can generally rely upon your judgment as being about the very best to be had anywhere in the open market. Theres no denying, little woman, that youve got a born taste somehow or other for the art of sculpture.
If only women would say what they mean to us! but they wont, so whats the use of bothering ones head about it? Theyll make themselves and us unhappy for a twelvemonth together lucky indeed if not for ever by petting and fretting over some jealous fancy or other, some vague foolish suspicion, which, if they would but speak out frankly for a moment, might be dispelled and settled with a good hearty kiss in half a second. Our very unsuspiciousness, our masculine downrightness and definiteness, make us slow to perceive their endless small tiffs and crooked questions; slow to detect the real meaning that underlies their unaccountable praise and blame of other people, given entirely from the point of view of their own marvellous subjective universe. The question whether Cecca was handsome or otherwise was to Colin Churchill a simple question of external aesthetics; he was as unprejudiced about it as he would have been in judging a Greek torso or a modern Italian statue. But to Minna it was mainly a question between her own heart and Colins. If she had only told him then and there her whole doubt and trouble confessed it, as a man would have confessed it, openly and simply, and asked at once for a straightforward explanation, she would have saved herself long weeks of misery and self-torture and internal questionings. But she did not; and Colin, never doubting her misapprehension, dropped the matter lightly as one of no practical importance whatsoever.
So it came to pass that Minna let that first day at Rome slip by without having come to any understanding at all with Colin; and went home to Madames still in doubt in her own troubled little mind whether or not she was really and truly quite engaged to him. Did he love her, or did he merely like her? Was she his sweetheart, or merely an old friend whom he had known and confided in ever since those dim old days at Wootton Mandeville? Minna could have cried her eyes out over that abstruse and difficult personal question. And Colin never even knew that the question had for one moment so much as once occurred to her.
I may have one more kiss before you go, little woman, Colin said to her tenderly, as she was on the point of leaving. Minnas eyes glistened brightly. One more kiss, you know, dear, for old times sake, Minna. Minnas eyes filled with tears, and she could hardly brush them away without his perceiving it. It was only for old times sake, then, for old times sake, not for love and the future. Oh, Colin, Colin, how bitter! how bitter!
As a cousin, Colin? she murmured interrogatively.
Cohn laughed a gay little laugh. Strictly as a cousin, he answered merrily, lingering far longer on her lips, however, than the most orthodox cousinly affection could ever possibly have sufficed to justify.
Minna sighed and jumped away hastily. That night, in her own room, looking at Colins photograph, and thinking of the dreadful Italian woman, and all the dangers that beset her round about, she muttered to herself ever so often, Strictly as a cousin, he said strictly as a cousin for old times sake strictly as a cousin.
There was only one real comfort left for her in all the dreary, gloomy, disappointing outlook. At least that horrid high-born Miss Gwen Howard-Russell (ugh, what a name!) had disappeared bodily altogether from off the circle of Cohns horizon.
CHAPTER XXXII. RE-ENTER GWEN
Lothrop Audouin and Hiram Winthrop were strolling arm in arm together down the Corso.
Audouin had just arrived from Paris, having crossed from America only a week earlier.
Four years had made some difference in his personal appearance; his beard and hair were getting decidedly grizzled, and for the first time in his life Hiram noticed that his friend seemed to have aged a great deal faster and more suddenly than he himself had. But Audouins carriage was still erect and very elastic; there was plenty of life and youth about him yet, plenty even of juvenile fire and originality.
Its very disappointing certainly, Hiram, he said, as they turned into the great thoroughfare of the city together, this delay in getting your talents recognised: but I have faith in you still; and to faith, you know, as the Hebrew preacher said, all things are possible. The great tardigrade world is hard to move; you need the pou sto of a sensation to get in the thin edge of your Archimedean lever. But the recognition will come, as sure as the next eclipse; meanwhile, my dear fellow, you must go on working in faith, and I surmise that in the end you will move mountains. If not Soracte just at once, my friend, well at any rate to begin upon the Monte Testaccio.
Hiram smiled half sadly. But I havent faith, you know, Mr. Audouin, he answered, in as easy a tone as he could well muster. I begin to regard myself in the dismal light of a portentous failure. Like Peter, I feel myself sinking in the water, and have no one to take me by the hand and lift me out of it.
Audouin answered only by an airy wave of his five delicate outspread fingers. And Miss Russell? he asked after half a seconds pause. Has she come to Rome yet? You know she said she would be here this winter.
As he spoke, he looked deep into Hirams eyes with so much meaning that Hiram felt his face grow hot, and thought to himself, What a wonderful man Mr. Audouin is, really! In spite of all my silence and reserve he has somehow managed to read my innermost secret. How could he ever have known that Miss Russells was the hand I needed to lift me out of the Sea of Gennesaret!
But how self-contained and self-centred even the best of us are at bottom! for Audouin only meant to change the subject, and the deep look in his eyes when he spoke about Gwen to Hiram had reference entirely to his own heart and not to his companions.
I havent seen or heard anything of her yet, Hiram answered shyly, but the season has hardly begun so far, and I calculate we may very probably find her at Rome in the course of the next fortnight.
How he looks down and hesitates! Audouin thought to himself in turn as Hiram answered him. How on earth can he have succeeded in discovering and recognising my unspoken secret?
So we walk this world together, cheek by jowl, yet all at cross purposes, each one thinking mainly of himself, and at the same time illogically fancying that his neighbour is not all equally engrossed on his own similarly important personality. We imagine he is always thinking about us, but he is really doing quite otherwise thinking about himself exactly as we are.
They walked on a few steps further in silence, each engaged in musing on his own thoughts, and then suddenly a voice came from a jewellers shop by the corner, Oh, papa, just look! Mr. Audouin and his friend the painter.
As Gwen Howard-Russell uttered those simple words, two hearts went beating suddenly faster on the pavement outside, each after its own fashion. Audouin heard chiefly his own name, and thought to himself gladly, Then she has not forgotten me. Hiram heard chiefly the end of the sentence, and thought to himself bitterly, And shall I never be more to her then than merely that his friend the painter?
Delighted to see you, Mr. Audouin, the colonel said stiffly, in a voice which at once belied its own spoken welcome. And you too, Mr. ur Mr.
Winthrop, papa, Gwen suggested blandly; and Hiram was grateful to her even for remembering it.
Winthrop, of course, the colonel accepted with a decorous smile, as who should gracefully concede that Hiram had no doubt a sort of right in his own small way to some kind of cognomen or other. And are you still painting, Mr. Winthrop?
I am, Hiram answered shortly. [The subject was one that did not interest him.] And you, Miss Russell? Have you come here to spend the winter?
Oh yes, Gwen replied, addressing herself, however, rather to Audouin than to Hiram. You see we havent forgotten our promise. But were not stopping at the hotel this time, were at the Villa Panormi just outside the town, you know, on the road to the Ponte Molle.
A cousin of ours, a dear stupid old fellow
Gwen, my dear! now really you know the Earl of Beaminster, Mr. Audouin.
Yes, thats his name; Lord Beaminster, and a dear old stupid as ever was born, too, I can tell you. Well, hes taken the Villa Panormi for the season; it belongs to some poor wretched creature of a Roman prince, I believe (his grandfather was lackey to a cardinal), whos in want of money dreadfully, and he lets it to my cousin to go and gamble away the proceeds at Monte Carlo. Its just outside the Porta del Popolo, about a mile off; and the gardens are really quite delightful. You must both of you come there very often to see us.
But really, Gwen, we must ask Beaminster first, you know, before we begin introducing our friends to him, the colonel interjected apologetically, casting down a furtive and uneasy glance at Hirams costume, which certainly displayed a most admired artistic disorder. We ought to send him to call first at Mr. ur Winthrops studio.
Of course, Gwen answered. And so he shall go this very afternoon, if I tell him to. The dear old stupid always does whatever I order him.
If we continue to take up the pavement in this way, Audouin put in gravely, we shall get taken up ourselves by the active and intelligent police officers of a redeemed Italy. Which way are you going now, Miss Russell? towards the Piazza? Then well go with you if you will allow us. Hiram, my dear fellow, if youll permit me to suggest it, its very awkward walking four abreast on these narrow Roman side-walks pavements, I mean; forgive the Americanism, Miss Russell. Yes, thats better so. And when did you and the colonel come to Rome. Now tell me?
In a moment, much to Hirams chagrin, and the colonels too, Audouin had managed to lead the way, tête-à-tête with Gwen, shuffling off the two others to follow behind, and get along as best they might in the background together. Now the colonel was not a distinguished conversationalist, and Hiram was hardly in a humour for talking, so after they had interchanged a few harmless conventionalities and a mild platitude or two about the weather, they both relapsed into moody silence, and occupied themselves by catching a scrap every now and then of what Gwen and Audouin were saying in front of them.
And that very clever Mr. Churchill, too, Mr. Audouin! I hear hes getting on quite wonderfully. Lord Beaminster bought one of his groups, you know, and brought him into fashion partly by my pushing, I must confess, to be quite candid and now, Im told, hes commanding almost any price he chooses to ask in the way of sculpture. We havent seen him yet, of course, but I mean papa and my cousin to look him up in his own quarters at the very earliest opportunity.
Oh, a clever enough young artist, certainly, but not really, Miss Russell, half so genuine an artist in feeling as my friend Win-throp.
Hiram could have fallen on his neck that moment for that half-unconscious piece of kindly recommendation.
A few steps further they reached the corner of the Via de Condotti, and Gwen paused for a second as she looked across the street, with a little sudden cry of recognition. A handsome young man was coming round the corner from the Piazza di Spagna, with a gipsy-looking girl leaning lightly on his arm, and talking to him with much evident animation. It was Colin and Minna, going out together on Minnas second holiday, to see the wonders of the Vatican and St. Peters.
Mr. Churchill! Gwen cried, coming forward cordially to meet him. What a delightful rencontre! We were just talking of you.
And here are other friends, you see, besides Mr. Winthrop, my father, and Mr. Audouin. Minna stood half aside in a little embarrassment, wondering who on earth the grand lady could be (she had penetration enough to recognise at once that she was a grand lady) talking so familiarly with our Colin.
Miss Howard-Russell! Colin cried on his side, taking her hand warmly. Then youve come back again! Im so glad to see you! And you too, Mr. Audouin; this is really a great pleasure. Miss Russell, I owe you so many thanks. It was you, I believe, who sent my first patron, Lord Beaminster, to visit my studio.
Oh, dont speak of it, please, Mr. Churchill. Its we who owe you thanks rather, for the pleasure your beautiful group of Autumn has given us. And dear stupid old Lord Beaminster used to amuse everybody so much by telling them how he wanted you to put a clock-dial in the place of the principal figure, until I managed at last to laugh him out of it. I made his life a burden to him, I assure you, by getting him to see how very ridiculous it was of him to try to spoil your lovely composition.
They talked for a minute or two longer at the street corner, Gwen explaining once more to Colin how she and the colonel had come as Lord Beaminsters guests to the Villa Panormi; and meanwhile poor little Minna stood there out in the cold, growing redder every second, and boiling over with indignation to think that that horrid Miss Howard-Russell should have dropped down upon them from the clouds at the very wrong moment, just on purpose to make barefaced love so openly to her Colin.
It was Gwen herself, however, who first took notice of Minna, whom she saw standing a little apart, and looking very much out of it indeed among so many greetings of old acquaintances. And your friend? she said to Colin kindly. You havent introduced her to us yet. May we have the pleasure? And she took a step forward with womanly gentleness to relieve the poor girl from her obvious embarrassment.
Excuse me, Minna dear, Colin said, taking her hand and leading her forward quietly.
My cousin, Miss Wroe: Miss Howard-Bussell, Colonel Howard-Russell, Mr. Audouin, Mr. Winthrop.
Minna bowed to them all stiffly with cheeks burning, and then fell back again at once angrily into her former position.
And have you come to Rome lately, Miss Wroe? Gwen asked of her with genuine kindness. Are you here on a visit to your cousin, whose work we all admire so greatly?
I came a week ago, Minna answered defiantly, blurting out the whole truth (lest she should seem to be keeping back anything) and pitting her whole social nonentity, as it were, against the grand ladys assured position.
I came a week ago; and Im a governess to a little Russian girl here; and Im going to stop all the winter.
Thatll be very nice for all of us, Gwen put in softly, with a look that might almost have disarmed Minnas hasty suspicions. And how exceedingly pleasant for you to have your cousin here, too! I suppose it was partly on that account, now, that you decided upon coming here?