My dear man, Edward never imagined anything in life. She still had her eyes on him. Therefore if he SEES a thing, dont you know? it must exist.
Mitchy for a little fixed the person mentioned as he sat with his other guest, but whatever this person saw he failed just then to see his wifes companion, whose eyes he never met. His face only offered itself after the fashion of a clean domestic vessel, a receptacle with the peculiar property of constantly serving yet never filling, to Lord Pethertons talkative splash. Well, only dont let him take it up. Let it be only between you and me, Mr. Mitchett pleaded; keep him quietdont let him speak to me. He appeared to convey with his pleasant extravagance that Edward looked dangerous, and he went on with a rigour of levity: It must be OUR little quarrel.
There were different ways of meeting such a tone, but Mrs. Brookenhams choice was remarkably prompt. I dont think I quite understand what dreadful joke you may be making, but I dare say if you HAD let Harold borrow youd have another manner, and I was at any rate determined to have the question out with you.
Let us always have everything outthats quite my own idea. Its you, said Mr. Mitchett, who are by no means always so frank with me as I recogniseoh, I do THAT!what it must have cost you to be over this little question of Harold. Theres one thing, Mrs. Brook, you do dodge.
What do I ever dodge, dear Mitchy? Mrs. Brook quite tenderly asked.
Why, when I ask you about your other child youre off like a frightened fawn. When have you ever, on my doing so, said my darling Mitchy, Ill ring for her to be asked to come down so that you can see her for yourselfwhen have you ever said anything like that?
I see, Mrs. Brookenham mused; you think I sacrifice her. Youre very interesting among you all, and Ive certainly a delightful circle. The Duchess has just been letting me have it most remarkably hot, and as shes presently coming back youll be able to join forces with her.
Mitchy looked a little at a loss. On the subject of your sacrifice
Of my innocent and helpless, yet somehow at the same time, as a consequence of my cynicism, dreadfully damaged and depraved daughter. She took in for an instant the slight bewilderment against which, as a result of her speech, even so expert an intelligence as Mr. Mitchetts had not been proof; then with a small jerk of her head at the other side of the room made the quickest of transitions. What IS there between her and him?
Mitchy wondered at the other two. Between Edward and the girl?
Dont talk nonsense. Between Petherton and Jane.
Mitchy could only stare, and the wide noonday light of his regard was at such moments really the redemption of his ugliness. What is there? Is there anything?
Its too beautiful, Mrs. Brookenham appreciatively sighed, your relation with him! You wont compromise him.
It would be nicer of me, Mitchy laughed, not to want to compromise HER!
Oh Jane! Mrs. Brookenham dropped. DOES he like her? she continued. You must know.
Ah its just my knowing that constitutes the beauty of my loyaltyof my delicacy. He had his quick jumps too. Am I never, never to see the child?
This enquiry appeared only to confirm his friend in the view of what was touching in him. Youre the most delicate thing I know, and it crops up with effect the oddest in the intervals of your corruption. Your talks half the time impossible; you respect neither age nor sex nor condition; one doesnt know what youll say or do next; and one has to return your bookscest tout direunder cover of darkness. Yet theres in the midst of all this and in the general abyss of you a little deepdown delicious niceness, a sweet sensibility, that one has actually ones self, shocked as one perpetually is at you, quite to hold ones breath and stay ones hand for fear of ruffling or bruising. Theres no one in talk with whom, she balmily continued, I find myself half so often suddenly moved to pull up short. Youve more little toes to tread onthough you pretend you havent: I mean morally speaking, dont you know?than even I have myself, and Ive so many that I could wish most of them cut off. You never spare me a shockno, you dont do that: it isnt the form your delicacy takes. But youll know what I mean, all the same, I think, when I tell you that there are lots I spare YOU!
Mr. Mitchett fairly glowed with the candour of his attention. Know what you mean, dearest lady? How can a man handicapped to death, a man of my origin, my appearance, my general weaknesses, drawbacks, immense indebtedness, all round, for the start, as it were, that I feel my friends have been so good as to allow me: how can such a man not be conscious every moment that every one about him goes on tiptoe and winks at every one else? What CAN you all mention in my presence, poor things, that isnt personal?
Mrs. Brookenhams face covered him for an instant as no painted Madonnas had ever covered the little charge at the breast beneath it. And the finest thing of all in you is your beautiful, beautiful pride! Youre prouder than all of us put together. She checked a motion that he had apparently meant as a protestshe went on with her muffled wisdom. There isnt a man but YOU whom Petherton wouldnt have made vulgar. He isnt vulgar himselfat least not exceptionally; but hes just one of those people, a class one knows well, who are so fearfully, in this country, the cause of it in others. For all I know hes the cause of it in methe cause of it even in poor Edward. For Im vulgar, Mitchy dearvery often; and the marvel of you is that you never are.
Thank you for everything. Thank you above all for marvel! Mitchy grinned.
Oh I know what I say!she didnt in the least blush. Ill tell you something, she pursued with the same gravity, if youll promise to tell no one on earth. If youre proud Im not. There! Its most extraordinary and I try to conceal it even to myself; but theres no doubt whatever about itIm not proud pour deux sous. And some day, on some awful occasion, I shall show it. SoI notify you. Shall you love me still?
To the bitter end, Mitchy loyally responded. For how CAN, how need, a woman be proud whos so preternaturally clever? Prides only for use when wit breaks downits the train the cyclist takes when his tires deflated. When that happens to YOUR tire, Mrs. Brook, youll let me know. And you do make me wonder just now, he confessed, why youre taking such particular precautions and throwing out such a cloud of skirmishers. If you want to shoot me dead a single bullet will do. He faltered but an instant before completing his sense. Where you really want to come out is at the fact that Nanda loathes me and that I might as well give up asking for her.
Are you quite serious? his companion after a moment resumed. Do you really and truly like her, Mitchy?
I like her as much as I dare toas much as a man can like a girl when from the very first of his seeing her and judging her he has also seen, and seen with all the reasons, that theres no chance for him whatever. Of course, with all that, he has done his best not to let himself go. But there are moments, Mr. Mitchett ruefully added, when it would relieve him awfully to feel free for a good spin.
I think you exaggerate, his hostess replied, the difficulties in your way. What do you mean by all the reasons?
I think you exaggerate, his hostess replied, the difficulties in your way. What do you mean by all the reasons?
Why one of them Ive already mentioned. I make her flesh creep.
My own Mitchy! Mrs. Brookenham protestingly moaned.
The other is thatvery naturallyshes in love.
With whom under the sun?
Mrs. Brookenham had, with her startled stare, met his eyes long enough to have taken something from him before he next spoke.
You really have never suspected? With whom conceivably but old Van?
Nandas in love with old Van?the degree to which she had never suspected was scarce to be expressed. Why hes twice her agehe has seen her in a pinafore with a dirty face and well slapped for it: he has never thought of her in the world.
How can a person of your acuteness, my dear woman, Mitchy asked, mention such trifles as having the least to do with the case? How can you possibly have such a fellow about, so beastly good-looking, so infernally well turned out in the way of culture, and so bringing them down in short on every side, and expect in the bosom of your family the absence of history of the reigns of the good kings? If YOU were a girl wouldnt YOU turn purple? If I were a girl shouldnt Iunless, as is more likely, I turned green?
Mrs. Brookenham was deeply affected. Nanda does turn purple?
The loveliest shade you ever saw. Its too absurd that you havent noticed.
It was characteristic of Mrs. Brookenhams amiability that, with her sudden sense of the importance of this new light, she should be quite ready to abase herself. There are so many things in ones life. One follows false scents. One doesnt make out everything at once. If youre right you must help me. We must see more of her.
But what good will that do me? Mitchy appealed.
Dont you care enough for her to want to help HER? Then before he could speak, Poor little darling dear! his hostess tenderly ejaculated. What does she think or dream? Truly shes laying up treasure!
Oh he likes her, said Mitchy. He likes her in fact extremely.
Do you mean he has told you so?
Oh nowe never mention it! But he likes her, Mr. Mitchett stubbornly repeated. And hes thoroughly straight.
Mrs. Brookenham for a moment turned these things over; after which she came out in a manner that visibly surprised him. It isnt as if you wished to be nasty about him, is it?because I know you like him yourself. Youre so wonderful to your friendsoh she could let him see that she knew!and in such different and exquisite ways. There are those like HIMshe signified her other visitorwho get everything out of you and whom you really appear fond of, or at least to put up with, just FOR that. Then there are those who ask nothingand whom youre fond of in spite of it.
Mitchy leaned back from this, fist within fist, watching her with a certain disguised emotion. He grinned almost too much for mere amusement. Thats the class to which YOU belong.
Its the best one, she returned, and Im careful to remain in it. You try to get us, by bribery, into the inferior place, because, proud as you are, it bores you a little that you like us so much. But we wont goat least I wont. You may make Van, she wonderfully continued. Theres nothing you wouldnt do for him or give him. Mitchy admired her from his position, slowly shaking his head with it. Hes the manwith no fortune and just as he is, to the smallest particularwhom you would have liked to be, whom you intensely envy, and yet to whom youre magnanimous enough for almost any sacrifice.
Mitchys appreciation had fairly deepened to a flush. Magnificent, magnificent Mrs. Brook! What ARE you in thunder up to?
Therefore, as I say, she imperturbably went on, its not to do him an ill turn that you make a point of what youve just told me.
Mr. Mitchett for a minute gave no sign but his high colour and his queer glare. How could it do him an ill turn?
Oh it WOULD be a way, dont you see? to put before me the need of getting rid of him. For he may like Nanda as much as you please: hell never, never, Mrs. Brookenham resolutely quaveredhell never come to the scratch. And to feel that as I do, she explained, can only be, dont you also see? to want to save her.
It would have appeared at last that poor Mitchy did see. By taking it in time? By forbidding him the house?
She seemed to stand with little nipping scissors in a garden of alternatives. Or by shipping HER off. Will you help me to save her? she broke out again after a moment. It isnt true, she continued, that she has any aversion to you.
Have you charged her with it? Mitchy demanded with a courage that amounted to high gallantry.
It inspired on the spot his interlocutress, and her own pluck, of as fine a quality now as her diplomacy, which was saying much, fell but little below. Yes, my dear friendfrankly.
Good. Then I know what she said.
She absolutely denied it.
Oh yesthey always do, because they pity me, Mitchy smiled. She said what they always saythat the effect I produce is, though at first upsetting, one that little by little they find it possible to get used to. The worlds full of people who are getting used to me, Mr. Mitchett concluded.
Its what I shall never do, for youre quite too great a luxury! Mrs. Brookenham declared. If I havent threshed you out really MORE with Nanda, she continued, it has been from a scruple of a sort you people never do a woman the justice to impute. Youre the object of views that have so much more to set them off.
Mr. Mitchett on this jumped up; he was clearly conscious of his nerves; he fidgeted away a few steps and then, his hands in his pockets, fixed on his hostess a countenance more controlled. What does the Duchess mean by your daughters beingas I understood you to quote her just nowdamaged and depraved?
Mrs. Brookenham came upshe literally rosesmiling. You fit the cap. You know how shed like you for little Aggie!
What does she mean, what does she mean? Mitchy repeated.
The door, as he spoke, was thrown open; Mrs. Brookenham glanced round. Youve the chance to find out from herself! The Duchess had come back and little Aggie was in her wake.
V
That young lady, in this relation, was certainly a figure to have offered a foundation for the highest hopes. As slight and white, as delicately lovely, as a gathered garden lily, her admirable training appeared to hold her out to them all as with precautionary finger-tips. She presumed, however, so little on any introduction that, shyly and submissively, waiting for the word of direction, she stopped short in the centre of the general friendliness till Mrs. Brookenham fairly became, to meet her, also a shy little girlput out a timid hand with wonder-struck innocent eyes that hesitated whether a kiss of greeting might be dared. Why you dear good strange ickle thing, you havent been here for ages, but it IS a joy to see you and I do hope youve brought your doll!such might have been the sense of our friends fond murmur while, looking at her up and down with pure pleasure, she drew the rare creature to a sofa. Little Aggie presented, up and down, an arrangement of dress exactly in the key of her age, her complexion, her emphasised virginity. She might have been prepared for her visit by a cluster of doting nuns, cloistered daughters of ancient houses and educators of similar products, whose taste, hereditarily good, had grown, out of the world and most delightfully, so queer as to leave on everything they touched a particular shade of distinction. The Duchess had brought in with the child an air of added confidence for which an observer would in a moment have seen the grounds, the association of the pair being so markedly favourable to each. Its younger member carried out the style of her aunts presence quite as one of the accessory figures effectively thrown into old portraits. The Duchess on the other hand seemed, with becoming blandness, to draw from her niece the dignity of a kind of office of statehereditary governess of the children of the blood. Little Aggie had a smile as softly bright as a Southern dawn, and the friends of her relative looked at each other, according to a fashion frequent in Mrs. Brookenhams drawing-room, in free exchange of their happy impression. Mr. Mitchett was none the less scantly diverted from his estimate of the occasion Mrs. Brookenham had just named to him.