Ive a comfortable little fortuneabout forty thousand francs a year. With the talent I have for arranging, we can live beautifully on such an income.
Beautifully, no. Sufficiently, yes. Even that depends on where you live.
Well, in Paris. I would undertake it in Paris.
Madame Merles mouth rose to the left. It wouldnt be famous; youd have to make use of the teacups, and theyd get broken.
We dont want to be famous. If Miss Osmond should have everything pretty it would be enough. When ones as pretty as she one can affordwell, quite cheap faience. She ought never to wear anything but muslinwithout the sprig, said Rosier reflectively.
Wouldnt you even allow her the sprig? Shed be much obliged to you at any rate for that theory.
Its the correct one, I assure you; and Im sure shed enter into it. She understands all that; thats why I love her.
Shes a very good little girl, and most tidyalso extremely graceful. But her father, to the best of my belief, can give her nothing.
Rosier scarce demurred. I dont in the least desire that he should. But I may remark, all the same, that he lives like a rich man.
The moneys his wifes; she brought him a large fortune.
Mrs. Osmond then is very fond of her stepdaughter; she may do something.
For a love-sick swain you have your eyes about you! Madame Merle exclaimed with a laugh.
I esteem a dot very much. I can do without it, but I esteem it.
Mrs. Osmond, Madame Merle went on, will probably prefer to keep her money for her own children.
Her own children? Surely she has none.
She may have yet. She had a poor little boy, who died two years ago, six months after his birth. Others therefore may come.
I hope they will, if it will make her happy. Shes a splendid woman.
Madame Merle failed to burst into speech. Ah, about her theres much to be said. Splendid as you like! Weve not exactly made out that youre a parti. The absence of vices is hardly a source of income.
Pardon me, I think it may be, said Rosier quite lucidly.
Youll be a touching couple, living on your innocence!
I think you underrate me.
Youre not so innocent as that? Seriously, said Madame Merle, of course forty thousand francs a year and a nice character are a combination to be considered. I dont say its to be jumped at, but there might be a worse offer. Mr. Osmond, however, will probably incline to believe he can do better.
He can do so perhaps; but what can his daughter do? She cant do better than marry the man she loves. For she does, you know, Rosier added eagerly.
She doesI know it.
Ah, cried the young man, I said you were the person to come to.
But I dont know how you know it, if you havent asked her, Madame Merle went on.
In such a case theres no need of asking and telling; as you say, were an innocent couple. How did you know it?
I who am not innocent? By being very crafty. Leave it to me; Ill find out for you.
Rosier got up and stood smoothing his hat. You say that rather coldly. Dont simply find out how it is, but try to make it as it should be.
Ill do my best. Ill try to make the most of your advantages.
Thank you so very much. Meanwhile then Ill say a word to Mrs. Osmond.
Gardez-vous-en bien! And Madame Merle was on her feet. Dont set her going, or youll spoil everything.
Rosier gazed into his hat; he wondered whether his hostess had been after all the right person to come to. I dont think I understand you. Im an old friend of Mrs. Osmond, and I think she would like me to succeed.
Be an old friend as much as you like; the more old friends she has the better, for she doesnt get on very well with some of her new. But dont for the present try to make her take up the cudgels for you. Her husband may have other views, and, as a person who wishes her well, I advise you not to multiply points of difference between them.
Poor Rosiers face assumed an expression of alarm; a suit for the hand of Pansy Osmond was even a more complicated business than his taste for proper transitions had allowed. But the extreme good sense which he concealed under a surface suggesting that of a careful owners best set came to his assistance. I dont see that Im bound to consider Mr. Osmond so very much! he exclaimed. No, but you should consider her. You say youre an old friend. Would you make her suffer?
Not for the world.
Then be very careful, and let the matter alone till Ive taken a few soundings.
Let the matter alone, dear Madame Merle? Remember that Im in love.
Oh, you wont burn up! Why did you come to me, if youre not to heed what I say?
Youre very kind; Ill be very good, the young man promised. But Im afraid Mr. Osmonds pretty hard, he added in his mild voice as he went to the door.
Madame Merle gave a short laugh. It has been said before. But his wife isnt easy either.
Ah, shes a splendid woman! Ned Rosier repeated, for departure. He resolved that his conduct should be worthy of an aspirant who was already a model of discretion; but he saw nothing in any pledge he had given Madame Merle that made it improper he should keep himself in spirits by an occasional visit to Miss Osmonds home. He reflected constantly on what his adviser had said to him, and turned over in his mind the impression of her rather circumspect tone. He had gone to her de confiance, as they put it in Paris; but it was possible he had been precipitate. He found difficulty in thinking of himself as rashhe had incurred this reproach so rarely; but it certainly was true that he had known Madame Merle only for the last month, and that his thinking her a delightful woman was not, when one came to look into it, a reason for assuming that she would be eager to push Pansy Osmond into his arms, gracefully arranged as these members might be to receive her. She had indeed shown him benevolence, and she was a person of consideration among the girls people, where she had a rather striking appearance (Rosier had more than once wondered how she managed it) of being intimate without being familiar. But possibly he had exaggerated these advantages. There was no particular reason why she should take trouble for him; a charming woman was charming to every one, and Rosier felt rather a fool when he thought of his having appealed to her on the ground that she had distinguished him. Very likelythough she had appeared to say it in jokeshe was really only thinking of his bibelots. Had it come into her head that he might offer her two or three of the gems of his collection? If she would only help him to marry Miss Osmond he would present her with his whole museum. He could hardly say so to her outright; it would seem too gross a bribe. But he should like her to believe it.
It was with these thoughts that he went again to Mrs. Osmonds, Mrs. Osmond having an eveningshe had taken the Thursday of each weekwhen his presence could be accounted for on general principles of civility. The object of Mr. Rosiers well-regulated affection dwelt in a high house in the very heart of Rome; a dark and massive structure overlooking a sunny piazzetta in the neighbourhood of the Farnese Palace. In a palace, too, little Pansy liveda palace by Roman measure, but a dungeon to poor Rosiers apprehensive mind. It seemed to him of evil omen that the young lady he wished to marry, and whose fastidious father he doubted of his ability to conciliate, should be immured in a kind of domestic fortress, a pile which bore a stern old Roman name, which smelt of historic deeds, of crime and craft and violence, which was mentioned in Murray and visited by tourists who looked, on a vague survey, disappointed and depressed, and which had frescoes by Caravaggio in the piano nobile and a row of mutilated statues and dusty urns in the wide, nobly-arched loggia overhanging the damp court where a fountain gushed out of a mossy niche. In a less preoccupied frame of mind he could have done justice to the Palazzo Roccanera; he could have entered into the sentiment of Mrs. Osmond, who had once told him that on settling themselves in Rome she and her husband had chosen this habitation for the love of local colour. It had local colour enough, and though he knew less about architecture than about Limoges enamels he could see that the proportions of the windows and even the details of the cornice had quite the grand air. But Rosier was haunted by the conviction that at picturesque periods young girls had been shut up there to keep them from their true loves, and then, under the threat of being thrown into convents, had been forced into unholy marriages. There was one point, however, to which he always did justice when once he found himself in Mrs. Osmonds warm, rich-looking reception-rooms, which were on the second floor. He acknowledged that these people were very strong in good things. It was a taste of Osmonds ownnot at all of hers; this she had told him the first time he came to the house, when, after asking himself for a quarter of an hour whether they had even better French than he in Paris, he was obliged on the spot to admit that they had, very much, and vanquished his envy, as a gentleman should, to the point of expressing to his hostess his pure admiration of her treasures. He learned from Mrs. Osmond that her husband had made a large collection before their marriage and that, though he had annexed a number of fine pieces within the last three years, he had achieved his greatest finds at a time when he had not the advantage of her advice. Rosier interpreted this information according to principles of his own. For advice read cash, he said to himself; and the fact that Gilbert Osmond had landed his highest prizes during his impecunious season confirmed his most cherished doctrinethe doctrine that a collector may freely be poor if he be only patient. In general, when Rosier presented himself on a Thursday evening, his first recognition was for the walls of the saloon; there were three or four objects his eyes really yearned for. But after his talk with Madame Merle he felt the extreme seriousness of his position; and now, when he came in, he looked about for the daughter of the house with such eagerness as might be permitted a gentleman whose smile, as he crossed a threshold, always took everything comfortable for granted.
CHAPTER XXXVII
Pansy was not in the first of the rooms, a large apartment with a concave ceiling and walls covered with old red damask; it was here Mrs. Osmond usually satthough she was not in her most customary place to-nightand that a circle of more especial intimates gathered about the fire. The room was flushed with subdued, diffused brightness; it contained the larger things andalmost alwaysan odour of flowers. Pansy on this occasion was presumably in the next of the series, the resort of younger visitors, where tea was served. Osmond stood before the chimney, leaning back with his hands behind him; he had one foot up and was warming the sole. Half a dozen persons, scattered near him, were talking together; but he was not in the conversation; his eyes had an expression, frequent with them, that seemed to represent them as engaged with objects more worth their while than the appearances actually thrust upon them. Rosier, coming in unannounced, failed to attract his attention; but the young man, who was very punctilious, though he was even exceptionally conscious that it was the wife, not the husband, he had come to see, went up to shake hands with him. Osmond put out his left hand, without changing his attitude.
How dye do? My wifes somewhere about.
Never fear; I shall find her, said Rosier cheerfully.
Osmond, however, took him in; he had never in his life felt himself so efficiently looked at. Madame Merle has told him, and he doesnt like it, he privately reasoned. He had hoped Madame Merle would be there, but she was not in sight; perhaps she was in one of the other rooms or would come later. He had never especially delighted in Gilbert Osmond, having a fancy he gave himself airs. But Rosier was not quickly resentful, and where politeness was concerned had ever a strong need of being quite in the right. He looked round him and smiled, all without help, and then in a moment, I saw a jolly good piece of Capo di Monte to-day, he said.
Osmond answered nothing at first; but presently, while he warmed his boot-sole, I dont care a fig for Capo di Monte! he returned.
I hope youre not losing your interest?
In old pots and plates? Yes, Im losing my interest.
Rosier for an instant forgot the delicacy of his position. Youre not thinking of parting with aa piece or two?
No, Im not thinking of parting with anything at all, Mr. Rosier, said Osmond, with his eyes still on the eyes of his visitor.
Ah, you want to keep, but not to add, Rosier remarked brightly.
Exactly. Ive nothing I wish to match.
Poor Rosier was aware he had blushed; he was distressed at his want of assurance. Ah, well, I have! was all he could murmur; and he knew his murmur was partly lost as he turned away. He took his course to the adjoining room and met Mrs. Osmond coming out of the deep doorway. She was dressed in black velvet; she looked high and splendid, as he had said, and yet oh so radiantly gentle! We know what Mr. Rosier thought of her and the terms in which, to Madame Merle, he had expressed his admiration. Like his appreciation of her dear little stepdaughter it was based partly on his eye for decorative character, his instinct for authenticity; but also on a sense for uncatalogued values, for that secret of a lustre beyond any recorded losing or rediscovering, which his devotion to brittle wares had still not disqualified him to recognise. Mrs. Osmond, at present, might well have gratified such tastes. The years had touched her only to enrich her; the flower of her youth had not faded, it only hung more quietly on its stem. She had lost something of that quick eagerness to which her husband had privately taken exceptionshe had more the air of being able to wait. Now, at all events, framed in the gilded doorway, she struck our young man as the picture of a gracious lady. You see Im very regular, he said. But who should be if Im not?
Yes, Ive known you longer than any one here. But we mustnt indulge in tender reminiscences. I want to introduce you to a young lady.