"Humph
!
"
"
And
,
after
all
,
happiness
ought
not
to
make
one
selfish
,
ought
it
?
"
says
Amelia
,
with
a
gentle
sigh
of
abnegation
,
as
she
ruffles
her
pale-haired
head
against
his
coat-sleeve
.
"
I
have
so
much
of
you
now
—
oh
,
so
much
!
—
not
to
speak
of
—
—
"
"
Cecilia
,
of
course
,
is
incapacitated
by
grief
?
"
interrupts
Jim
brusquely
.
"
She
will
be
going
up
and
down
upon
the
mountains
like
another
unfortunate
fair
one
.
But
your
father
?
He
will
be
at
home
,
will
he
not
?
"
"
Yes
,
he
will
be
at
home
,
"
replies
Amelia
,
slowly
and
doubtfully
,
as
if
not
finding
a
very
satisfactory
solution
in
this
suggested
arrangement
;
"
but
,
as
you
know
,
it
never
answers
to
leave
father
and
Sybilla
alone
together
for
long
.
You
see
,
he
does
not
believe
that
there
is
anything
the
matter
with
her
;
he
thinks
that
she
is
as
well
as
you
or
I
"
(
a
gush
of
warm
feeling
towards
his
father-in-law
rushes
over
Jim
's
heart
)
;
"
and
though
he
tries
to
prevent
himself
from
showing
it
to
her
,
yet
I
am
afraid
,
poor
dear
,
that
he
is
not
very
successful
.
"
Jim
laughs
.
"
And
to-day
,
"
continues
Amelia
,
"
he
is
naturally
a
good
deal
upset
about
Cecilia
and
that
wedding-cake
;
it
was
very
impertinent
to
send
it
—
was
not
it
?
—
though
she
does
not
seem
to
see
it
.
I
hope
"
—
with
a
wistful
smile
,
and
a
repetition
of
the
fond
friction
of
her
head
against
his
sleeve
—
"
that
when
you
throw
me
over
—
—
"
This
is
a
hypothesis
,
suggested
with
perhaps
unwise
frequency
by
poor
Miss
Wilson
,
which
never
fails
to
exasperate
Jim
.
"
If
we
are
going
to
talk
nonsense
,
"
he
breaks
in
brusquely
,
and
with
no
attempt
to
return
or
reward
her
caressing
gesture
,
"
I
may
as
well
go
.
"
"
Go
to
the
Piazza
d'Azeglio
,
"
says
she
coaxingly
,
her
spirits
raised
by
the
harshness
of
tone
of
his
interruption
of
her
speech
,
and
half
persuading
herself
that
it
owes
its
birth
to
the
supposition
being
too
painful
to
be
faced
by
him
.
He
looks
at
her
strangely
for
a
moment
,
then
—
"
Why
do
you
wish
me
to
go
to
the
Piazza
d'Azeglio
?
"
he
asks
,
in
a
tone
that
is
no
longer
overtly
cross
,
only
constrained
and
odd
.
"
Why
are
you
driving
me
there
?
"
"
Because
I
think
you
would
like
it
,
"
she
answers
;
"
because
"
—
taking
his
hand
and
passing
her
lips
,
which
he
feels
to
be
trembling
a
little
,
very
gently
over
the
back
of
it
—
"
because
all
through
your
life
I
want
you
to
have
exactly
what
you
like
,
always
.
"
He
draws
his
hand
away
;
not
unkindly
,
but
as
if
shocked
at
the
humility
of
her
action
.
"
That
is
so
likely
,
"
he
says
mournfully
.
CHAPTER
X
.
There
is
no
particular
mirth
in
Burgoyne
's
mind
as
he
mounts
the
stone
stairs
of
the
house
which
announces
itself
as
12
bis
,
in
the
commonplace
new
square
of
the
Piazza
d'Azeglio
.
But
yet
it
is
evident
that
,
if
he
wishes
to
be
in
tune
with
the
mood
of
the
family
to
whom
he
is
going
to
pay
his
respects
,
he
must
be
not
only
mirthful
,
but
musical
.
As
the
door
of
the
entresol
,
to
which
he
is
directed
by
the
porter
,
opens
in
answer
to
his
ring
,
bursts
of
laughter
,
among
which
he
can
plainly
detect
the
voice
of
Byng
,
assail
his
ear
,
mingled
with
music
,
or
rather
noise
of
a
sort
,
but
what
sort
his
ear
,
without
fuller
evidence
than
is
yet
before
it
,
is
unable
to
decide
.
The
person
who
has
admitted
him
is
an
elderly
Englishwoman
,
whose
features
at
once
strike
him
as
familiar
—
so
familiar
that
it
needs
scarcely
one
reaching
back
of
memory
's
hand
to
capture
the
fact
of
her
having
filled
the
office
of
nurse
at
the
Moat
,
at
the
period
when
the
nursery
there
had
been
the
scene
of
those
frantic
romps
in
which
he
himself
had
taken
a
prominent
part
,
and
in
which
Elizabeth
had
been
to
him
by
turns
so
able
a
second
,
or
so
vigorous
an
adversary
.
He
would
like
to
claim
acquaintance
with
her
,
and
,
perhaps
,
if
she
had
made
any
difficulty
as
to
admitting
him
,
might
have
screwed
up
his
courage
to
do
so
;
but
as
she
lets
him
in
without
delay
or
hesitation
,
he
follows
her
in
silence
along
the
passage
of
a
by
no
means
imposing
little
entresol
—
they
are
not
so
well
off
as
they
used
to
be
,
is
his
passing
thought
—
is
ushered
into
a
small
sitting-room
,
and
,
entering
behind
his
own
name
,
which
has
been
completely
drowned
by
the
din
issuing
from
within
,
has
time
,
before
the
consciousness
of
his
own
appearance
has
disturbed
it
,
to
take
in
the
details
of
a
group
which
his
entry
naturally
breaks
up
.
Set
slantwise
across
one
angle
of
the
room
is
an
open
cottage-piano
,
and
beside
it
stands
Elizabeth
,
her
elbow
resting
on
the
top
,
and
all
her
pensive
face
convulsed
with
helpless
laughter
.
Upon
the
music-stool
is
seated
a
large
collie
dog
,
supported
from
behind
in
an
upright
position
by
Byng
.
Before
him
is
a
score
of
music
,
from
which
he
is
obviously
supposed
to
be
playing
,
as
indeed
he
is
doing
in
a
sense
—
that
is
to
say
,
he
is
bringing
down
first
one
large
paw
and
then
another
heavily
on
the
keys
,
accompanying
each
crash
with
a
short
howl
to
express
the
agony
inflicted
upon
his
nerves
by
his
own
performance
.
The
scene
is
so
entirely
different
a
one
from
what
he
had
expected
:
the
immoderately
laughing
Elizabeth
has
so
much
more
kinship
with
the
sweet
hoyden
of
the
Moat
than
with
the
pale
woman
with
a
history
of
his
two
last
meetings
,
that
for
a
second
or
two
Burgoyne
stands
in
the
doorway
as
if
stunned
.
It
is
not
till
Mrs.
Le
Marchant
,
coming
out
of
an
inner
room
,
advances
to
greet
him
,
that
he
recovers
himself
.
"
How
do
you
do
?
"
she
says
,
smiling
,
and
with
less
constraint
than
he
has
of
late
learnt
to
expect
.
"
Are
you
fond
of
music
?
"
(
putting
,
as
she
speaks
,
her
hands
up
to
her
ears
)
.
"
I
hope
so
!
Did
you
ever
hear
such
a
shocking
noise
?
"
"
I
do
not
know
which
I
admire
most
,
the
vocal
or
the
instrumental
part
of
the
performance
,
"
replies
he
,
laughing
;
but
even
as
he
speaks
both
cease
.
Elizabeth
lifts
her
elbow
from
the
piano
,
and
Byng
removes
his
hands
from
under
the
dog
's
arms
,
who
at
once
,
joyful
and
released
,
jumps
down
,
upsetting
his
music-stool
with
the
impetus
of
his
descent
,
and
yet
immediately
,
with
all
a
dog
's
real
good-heartedness
,
begins
to
swing
a
handsome
tail
,
to
show
that
he
bears
no
real
malice
for
the
odious
practical
joke
that
has
been
played
upon
him
.
The
clamorous
fall
of
dog
and
music-stool
reveals
an
object
which
had
been
hidden
behind
both
,
in
the
shape
of
a
little
boy
,
in
whose
behalf
,
as
it
darts
across
Jim
's
mind
,
the
eccentric
concert
,
for
which
he
has
come
in
,
must
have
been
got
up
.
"
Oh
,
do
go
on
!
"
cries
the
child
shrilly
.
"
Oh
,
do
make
him
do
it
again
!
Oh
,
why
do
you
stop
?
"
And
indeed
through
the
whole
of
the
ensuing
conversation
this
cry
recurs
at
short
intervals
with
the
iteration
of
a
guinea-hen
.
But
none
of
the
three
performers
seems
disposed
to
comply
with
this
request
.
Two
of
them
sit
down
decorously
on
chairs
,
and
the
third
throws
himself
upon
the
floor
panting
,
showing
a
fine
red
tongue
,
and
dragging
himself
luxuriously
along
on
his
stomach
to
show
his
relief
at
his
corvée
being
ended
.
The
child
has
followed
Elizabeth
,
and
now
stands
beside
her
,
tiresomely
pulling
at
her
white
hands
.
"
Bertie
has
come
to
spend
the
day
with
us
,
"
she
says
,
looking
explanatorily
up
at
Jim
,
but
speaking
with
a
formality
very
different
,
as
he
feels
,
from
the
exuberant
ease
and
mirth
that
had
marked
her
intercourse
with
Byng
.
Jim
had
already
had
a
flash
of
speculation
about
the
child
,
as
to
whether
he
might
be
a
late-come
little
brother
,
arrived
on
the
scene
at
a
period
subsequent
to
his
own
connection
with
the
family
;
since
plainly
the
span
of
his
small
life
did
not
stretch
to
a
decade
.
"
Bertie
is
a
new
friend
,
"
he
says
kindly
.
"
I
do
not
know
Bertie
.
"
"
His
mother
,
Mrs.
Roche
,
is
a
cousin
of
ours
;
she
has
a
villa
on
Bellosguardo
.
Perhaps
you
know
her
?
"
"
I
am
going
to
a
party
at
her
house
on
Wednesday
,
"
cries
Jim
,
in
a
tone
of
eager
pleasure
at
the
discovery
of
this
fresh
link
,
and
of
the
vista
of
probable
meetings
which
it
opens
up
.
"
I
shall
meet
you
there
?
"
Elizabeth
turns
her
head
slightly
aside
and
shakes
it
as
slightly
.
"
No
?
"
"
We
are
not
going
out
.
"
The
formula
implies
mourning
,
and
yet
the
clothes
both
of
Elizabeth
and
her
mother
are
unmistakably
coloured
ones
,
and
give
no
indication
of
an
even
moderately
recent
loss
.
But
it
is
so
clear
that
Miss
Le
Marchant
means
to
add
no
explanation
that
he
has
to
change
the
subject
.
"
Though
Bertie
is
not
an
old
friend
,
"
he
says
,
smiling
,
"
yet
I
have
come
across
one
here
to-day
—
she
opened
the
door
to
me
;
I
should
have
liked
to
shake
hands
with
her
,
only
she
looked
so
haughty
—
she
never
used
to
look
haughty
at
the
Moat
.
"
"
Do
you
mean
nurse
?
"
she
asks
.
"
Yes
,
I
knew
her
in
an
instant
;
she
is
not
in
the
least
changed
,
less
even
"
—
hesitating
a
little
,
as
if
doubtful
whether
the
stiffness
of
their
new
relations
warranted
a
personality
—
"
less
even
than
you
.
"
She
snatches
a
hasty
look
at
him
,
a
look
upon
which
he
sees
,
to
his
surprise
,
imprinted
a
character
of
almost
fear
.
"
You
must
be
laughing
at
me
,
"
she
says
,
in
a
voice
in
which
he
detects
an
undoubted
tremor
;
"
I
am
very
much
changed
.
"
There
is
such
obvious
apprehension
in
her
whole
manner
,
that
his
one
thought
—
after
a
first
flash
of
astonishment
—
is
to
reassure
her
.
"
Of
course
I
was
only
speaking
of
externals
,
"
he
says
quickly
;
"
ten
years
could
hardly
be
expected
to
leave
any
of
us
quite
where
we
were
as
to
our
inner
selves
;
"
then
,
seeing
her
still
look
flurried
,
and
becoming
himself
nervous
,
he
adds
,
rather
stupidly
,
the
hackneyed
Swinburnian
couplet
—
"
'
Time
turns
the
old
days
to
derision
,
Our
loves
into
corpses
or
wives
!
'
though
I
never
could
see
that
that
was
quite
a
necessary
alternative
!
"
Ere
the
words
are
out
of
his
mouth
she
has
risen
with
precipitation
,
and
begun
hurriedly
to
re-arrange
the
branches
of
lilac
in
a
scaldino
on
the
table
near
her
.
She
is
apparently
so
awkward
about
it
that
one
odorous
white
bough
falls
out
on
the
floor
.
Before
Jim
can
stoop
to
pick
it
up
,
Byng
has
rushed
to
the
rescue
.
In
eagerly
thanking
him
,
in
receiving
it
back
from
him
,
and
accepting
his
services
in
replacing
it
among
its
perfumed
brothers
,
the
girl
,
perhaps
involuntarily
,
turns
her
back
upon
her
former
interlocutor
,
who
sits
for
a
moment
staring
rather
blankly
at
her
,
and
wondering
what
sting
there
could
have
lurked
in
his
apparently
harmless
words
to
drive
her
away
so
abruptly
.
Whatever
may
have
driven
her
away
,
there
is
certainly
no
doubt
as
to
her
being
gone
.
Nor
as
Jim
sees
her
moving
about
the
room
,
followed
by
Byng
,
and
showing
him
her
treasures
—
the
little
wild
red
and
yellow
tulips
she
plucked
in
the
field
this
morning
;
the
chicken-skin
box
she
bought
at
Ciampolini
's
yesterday
,
and
mixing
all
that
she
shows
with
her
delicate
light
laughter
—
can
he
buoy
himself
up
with
any
reasonable
hope
of
her
ever
,
with
her
own
good
will
,
returning
.
He
must
be
looking
more
blank
than
he
is
conscious
of
,
for
Mrs.
Le
Marchant
's
voice
sounds
quite
apologetic
in
his
ears
,
when
,
having
been
,
like
himself
,
deserted
by
her
companion
,
she
takes
a
seat
near
him
.
"
Elizabeth
is
so
proud
of
her
bargains
,
"
she
says
,
glancing
with
a
lenient
smile
towards
her
daughter
;
"
she
must
show
them
to
everybody
.
"
"
She
never
offered
to
show
them
to
me
,
"
replies
Jim
,
rather
morosely
;
then
,
becoming
aware
of
the
almost
puerile
jealousy
evidenced
by
his
last
remark
,
he
adds
:
"
I
am
afraid
I
said
something
that
annoyed
Miss
Le
Marchant
;
I
cannot
think
what
it
could
have
been
.
I
told
her
how
wonderfully
little
changed
I
thought
her
in
the
last
ten
years
;
but
it
could
not
have
been
that
,
could
it
?
"
The
mother
's
eye
is
still
following
her
child
,
and
,
if
it
were
not
an
absurd
assumption
,
Burgoyne
could
have
fancied
that
there
was
a
sudden
moisture
in
it
.
"
She
is
very
sensitive
,
"
Mrs.
Le
Marchant
answers
slowly
;
"
perhaps
it
would
be
safer
not
to
say
anything
about
herself
to
her
.
"
"
Perhaps
it
would
be
safer
,
"
rejoins
Jim
,
with
some
ill-humour
,
"
if
you
were
to
draw
up
a
list
of
subjects
for
me
to
avoid
;
I
have
no
wish
to
play
the
part
of
bull
in
a
china
shop
;
and
yet
I
seem
to
be
always
doing
it
;
imprimis
"
(
striking
the
forefinger
of
his
left
hand
with
the
right
)
,
"
imprimis
the
Moat
.
"
He
pauses
,
as
if
expecting
a
disclaimer
,
but
none
such
comes
—
"
The
past
generally
"
(
moving
on
to
the
second
finger
and
again
halting
;
but
with
no
more
result
than
before
)
.
"
Yourselves
"
(
reaching
the
third
finger
)
.
Still
that
silence
,
which
,
if
it
mean
anything
,
must
mean
assent
.
He
looks
impatiently
in
her
face
,
to
seek
the
response
which
her
lips
refuse
him
.
"
On
your
own
showing
,
"
she
says
gently
,
though
in
a
rather
troubled
voice
,
"
you
have
the
whole
field
of
the
present
and
the
future
left
you
;
are
not
they
wide
enough
for
you
?
"
His
brows
draw
together
into
a
painful
frown
.
"
Perhaps
I
have
as
little
cause
to
be
fond
of
them
as
you
have
of
the
past
.
"
It
is
a
random
shot
,
a
bow
drawn
at
a
venture
;
but
it
could
not
have
hit
more
true
apparently
had
it
been
levelled
with
the
nicest
aim
.
As
her
daughter
had
done
before
her
,
Mrs.
Le
Marchant
rises
hastily
,
and
leaves
him
—
leaves
him
to
reflect
ironically
upon
how
wisely
Amelia
had
acted
in
insisting
upon
his
visiting
these
"
dear
old
friends
,
"
upon
whom
the
effect
of
his
conversation
is
so
obviously
exhilarating
.
"
I
wish
I
had
not
come
;
I
wish
it
was
time
to
go
home
!
"
The
small
fractious
voice
that
wails
the
two
preceding
sentences
seems
to
be
Jim
's
own
mouthpiece
.
It
is
,
in
point
of
fact
,
the
voice
of
Bertie
,
who
,
tired
of
uttering
his
unregarded
request
for
the
repetition
of
the
concert
which
had
filled
him
with
such
delight
,
has
of
late
been
trying
the
effect
of
his
unassisted
powers
to
bring
about
the
desired
consummation
,
by
putting
his
arms
as
far
as
he
can
round
the
dog
's
body
,
and
endeavouring
to
lug
him
towards
the
music-stool
.
The
collie
has
been
enduring
this
treatment
for
five
minutes
—
enduring
it
with
an
expression
of
magnanimous
patience
,
which
seems
to
say
,
that
,
though
it
is
undoubtedly
an
unpleasant
experience
,
yet
,
as
it
is
inflicted
upon
him
by
one
of
his
own
family
,
he
must
of
course
put
up
with
it
,
when
Elizabeth
goes
to
the
rescue
.
Elizabeth
goes
alone
,
since
Byng
is
held
in
converse
by
her
mother
at
the
other
side
of
the
room
.
Verbal
persuasions
having
entirely
failed
,
she
tries
to
loosen
the
child
's
arms
;
but
his
grasp
,
though
puny
,
is
obstinate
,
and
the
only
perceptible
result
of
her
endeavours
is
the
utterance
by
her
young
friend
of
the
two
polite
aspirations
above
recorded
.
"
He
does
not
want
to
sing
any
more
to-day
,
"
Jim
hears
her
saying
in
her
gentle
voice
;
"
you
really
are
hurting
him
;
he
is
too
polite
to
say
so
;
but
you
are
squeezing
him
so
tight
that
you
really
are
hurting
him
.
Why
now
"
(
with
a
little
accent
of
pain
)
,
"
you
are
hurting
me
.
"
Jim
has
been
looking
with
a
lack-lustre
eye
out
of
the
open
window
at
the
young
plane
trees
exchanging
their
frowsy
buds
for
infant
leaves
;
at
the
one
Judas
tree
pranking
in
its
purple
blossoms
in
the
Piazza
;
but
at
that
low
complaint
he
makes
one
step
across
the
room
,
and
,
whipping
off
Master
Bertie
alike
from
long-enduring
dog
and
plaintive
woman
,
stoops
over
the
latter
as
she
sits
upon
the
floor
,
passing
one
hand
over
the
other
,
upon
which
the
child
's
angry
fingers
,
transferred
from
his
first
victim
,
have
left
rosy
prints
of
pain
.
"
I
wish
I
had
not
come
;
I
wish
it
was
time
to
go
home
!
"
whimpers
the
little
boy
.
"
Since
he
is
so
anxious
to
go
home
,
I
will
take
him
,
if
you
like
,
"
says
Jim
in
a
stiff
voice
;
"
I
must
be
going
myself
.
"
She
looks
up
at
him
from
her
lowly
posture
,
a
charming
,
half-apologetic
,
wholly
peace-making
smile
fleeting
across
her
small
face
,
while
she
still
chafes
her
hand
—
that
little
pinched
hand
which
makes
him
feel
so
ridiculously
tender
.
"
Are
you
,
too
,
sorry
that
you
came
?
"
she
asks
.
The
question
takes
him
by
surprise
.
He
is
not
prepared
for
so
friendly
and
almost
intimate
a
sequel
to
her
short
,
shy
answers
,
and
her
abrupt
quitting
of
him
.
He
hesitates
how
to
answer
it
;
and
as
he
hesitates
,
she
rises
and
stands
beside
him
.
It
is
not
easy
for
a
grown
person
to
rise
gracefully
from
a
seat
on
the
floor
.
Jim
catches
himself
thinking
with
what
a
roll
and
a
flounder
Cecilia
would
have
executed
the
same
manœuvre
;
but
Elizabeth
,
supple
and
light
,
rises
as
smoothly
as
an
exhalation
from
a
summer
meadow
.
"
If
I
was
rude
to
you
just
now
,
"
she
says
,
rather
tremulously
;
"
if
I
am
ever
rude
to
you
in
the
future
,
I
hope
you
will
understand
—
I
hope
you
will
put
it
down
to
the
fact
that
I
—
I
—
am
very
ignorant
of
—
that
I
know
very
little
of
the
world
.
"
The
two
men
are
gone
;
so
is
the
child
;
so
is
the
dog
;
and
Elizabeth
is
shutting
up
the
piano
and
removing
the
score
.
"
What
a
noise
we
made
!
"
she
says
,
smiling
at
the
recollection
.
"
If
you
make
such
a
shocking
noise
again
,
the
signora
and
the
other
lodgers
will
infallibly
interfere
.
"
Mrs.
Le
Marchant
has
followed
her
daughter
,
and
now
throws
one
arm
about
her
slight
neck
,
with
a
gesture
of
passionate
affection
.
"
If
you
knew
,
"
she
says
,
in
a
voice
of
deep
and
happy
agitation
,
"
what
it
was
to
me
to
hear
you
laugh
as
you
did
to-day
!
"
"
I
have
a
good
many
arrears
in
that
way
to
make
up
,
have
not
I
,
mammy
?
And
so
have
you
too
,
"
answers
the
younger
woman
,
laying
her
sleek
head
down
caressingly
on
her
mother
's
shoulder
;
then
,
in
a
changed
and
restless
voice
:
"
Oh
,
if
we
could
stop
that
man
talking
about
the
Moat
!
Why
does
he
go
on
hammering
about
it
?
"
"
Why
indeed
?
"
replies
Mrs.
Le
Marchant
with
a
shrug
.
"
Men
are
so
thick-skinned
;
but
it
is
rather
touching
,
his
having
remembered
us
all
these
years
,
is
not
it
?
For
my
part
,
I
had
almost
entirely
forgotten
his
existence
—
had
not
you
?
"
"
Absolutely
!
"
replies
Elizabeth
,
with
emphasis
;
"
and
if
he
will
only
let
me
,
I
am
more
than
willing
to
forget
it
over
again
.
Oh
,
mammy
"
(
turning
her
face
round
,
and
burying
it
on
her
mother
's
breast
)
,
"
why
ca
n't
we
forget
everything
?
begin
everything
afresh
from
now
—
this
delightful
now
?
"
CHAPTER
XI
.
A
reconciliation
is
seldom
effected
without
some
price
being
paid
for
it
.
Jim
's
with
Elizabeth
,
if
it
can
be
called
such
,
is
bought
at
the
cost
of
a
small
sacrifice
of
principle
on
his
part
.
No
later
than
this
morning
he
had
laid
it
down
as
a
Median
rule
that
he
should
avoid
opportunities
of
finding
himself
in
Miss
Le
Marchant
's
company
;
and
yet
,
not
only
has
he
spent
the
major
part
of
the
afternoon
in
her
society
,
but
,
as
he
walks
away
from
her
door
,
he
finds
that
he
has
engaged
himself
to
help
Byng
,
on
no
distant
day
,
in
doing
the
honours
of
the
Certosa
Monastery
to
her
and
her
mother
.
On
reflection
,
he
cannot
quite
explain
to
himself
how
the
arrangement
has
come
about
.
The
proposal
certainly
did
not
originate
with
him
,
and
still
less
with
the
two
ladies
so
strangely
shy
of
all
society
.
The
three
have
somehow
been
swept
into
it
by
Byng
,
who
,
either
with
the
noblest
altruism
,
or
because
he
feels
justly
confident
that
he
has
no
cause
for
jealousy
of
his
friend
(
Jim
's
cynical
reflection
is
that
the
latter
is
the
much
more
probable
reason
)
,
has
insisted
on
drawing
him
into
the
project
.
Jim
Burgoyne
is
not
a
man
whom
,
as
a
rule
,
it
is
easy
either
to
wile
or
cudgel
into
any
course
that
does
not
recommend
itself
to
his
own
judgment
or
taste
—
a
fact
of
which
he
himself
is
perfectly
aware
,
and
which
makes
him
remorsefully
acknowledge
that
there
must
indeed
have
been
a
traitor
in
the
citadel
of
his
own
heart
before
he
could
have
so
weakly
yielded
at
the
first
push
to
what
his
reason
sincerely
disapproves
.
But
yet
it
is
not
true
that
remorse
is
the
leading
feature
of
his
thoughts
,
as
he
walks
silently
beside
his
friend
down
the
Via
di
Servi
.
It
ought
to
be
,
perhaps
;
but
it
is
not
.
The
picture
that
holds
the
foreground
of
his
memory
is
that
of
Elizabeth
sitting
on
the
floor
,
and
sending
him
peace-offerings
from
her
pathetic
eyes
and
across
her
sensitive
lips
.
It
was
very
sweet
of
her
to
think
it
necessary
to
make
him
amends
at
all
for
her
trifling
incivility
,
and
nothing
could
be
sweeter
than
the
manner
of
it
.
How
gladly
would
he
buy
some
little
rudeness
from
her
every
day
at
such
a
price
!
But
yet
,
as
he
thinks
it
over
,
the
manner
of
it
,
the
ground
on
which
she
rested
her
excuse
,
is
surely
a
strange
one
.
That
she
should
attribute
her
light
lapse
from
courtesy
to
want
of
knowledge
of
the
world
comes
strangely
from
the
mouth
of
a
woman
of
six-and-twenty
.
If
it
be
true
—
and
there
was
a
naïve
veracity
in
lip
and
eye
as
she
spoke
—
how
is
it
to
be
accounted
for
?
Has
her
mind
,
has
her
experience
of
life
,
remained
absolutely
stationary
during
the
last
ten
years
?
Her
tell-tale
face
,
over
which
some
pensive
story
is
so
plainly
written
,
forbids
the
inference
.
It
is
no
business
of
his
,
of
course
.
Amelia
,
thank
Heaven
!
has
no
story
;
but
,
oh
!
if
someone
would
tell
him
what
that
history
is
!
And
yet
,
three
days
later
,
he
voluntarily
puts
away
from
himself
the
opportunity
of
hearing
it
.
During
those
three
days
he
sees
no
more
of
her
.
He
does
not
again
seek
her
out
,
and
accident
does
not
throw
her
in
his
way
.
He
buys
his
Cantagalli
dinner-service
in
company
with
Amelia
;
chooses
the
soup-tureen
out
of
which
he
is
to
ladle
mutton
broth
for
the
inhabitants
of
Westbourne
Grove
;
he
tastes
of
the
wedding-cake
that
has
cost
Cecilia
so
dear
,
and
he
avoids
Byng
.
On
the
third
day
he
can
no
longer
avoid
him
,
since
he
is
to
occupy
,
as
on
the
San
Miniato
occasion
,
the
fourth
seat
in
the
fiacre
which
conveys
himself
and
the
Misses
Wilson
to
the
garden-party
at
the
villa
in
Bellosguardo
inhabited
by
Mrs.
Roche
,
the
mother
of
the
amiable
Bertie
.
The
Wilsons
'
acquaintances
in
Florence
are
few
,
and
,
as
far
as
Burgoyne
has
at
present
had
the
opportunity
of
judging
,
evil
.
It
is
,
therefore
,
with
a
proportionate
elation
that
Cecilia
dresses
for
a
party
at
which
she
will
meet
the
bulk
,
or
at
least
the
cream
,
of
the
English
society
.
It
is
to
Byng
's
good
nature
that
she
and
her
sister
owe
the
introduction
to
a
hostess
whose
acquaintance
is
already
too
large
to
make
her
eager
for
any
causeless
addition
to
it
;
but
whose
hand
has
been
forced
by
Byng
,
in
the
mistaken
idea
that
he
is
doing
a
service
to
his
friend
Jim
.
They
are
late
in
setting
off
,
as
Amelia
is
delayed
by
the
necessity
of
soothing
Sybilla
,
who
has
been
reduced
to
bitter
tears
by
a
tête-à-tête
with
her
father
,
in
which
that
well-intentioned
but
incautious
gentleman
has
been
betrayed
into
suggesting
to
her
that
she
may
possibly
be
suffering
from
biliousness
.
The
administering
of
bromide
,
to
calm
her
nerves
under
such
a
shock
;
the
reiterated
assurances
that
every
member
of
the
family
except
its
head
realizes
the
monstrosity
of
the
suggestion
,
take
up
so
much
time
that
Amelia
herself
has
to
reduce
to
a
minimum
the
moments
allotted
to
her
own
toilette
.
She
has
cried
a
little
with
Sybilla
,
for
company
partly
,
and
partly
out
of
weariness
of
spirit
.
That
and
hurry
have
swollen
her
eyelids
,
and
painted
her
cheeks
with
a
hard
,
tired
red
,
so
that
it
is
an
even
more
homespun
figure
and
a
homelier
face
than
usual
,
that
seat
themselves
opposite
Burgoyne
,
when
at
length
they
get
under
weigh
.
He
,
Burgoyne
,
has
been
impatient
of
the
delay
,
impatient
to
set
off
and
to
arrive
;
yet
he
would
be
puzzled
to
say
why
.
He
knows
,
on
no
less
authority
than
her
own
word
,
that
he
shall
not
meet
Elizabeth
;
and
yet
the
mere
feeling
that
the
mistress
of
the
house
to
which
he
is
going
is
of
the
same
blood
as
she
;
that
he
shall
see
the
rude
,
spoilt
child
,
whose
ill-tempered
pinch
made
her
utter
that
low
cry
of
pain
,
suffice
to
give
a
tartness
to
his
tone
,
as
he
inquires
the
cause
of
her
lagging
,
of
the
panting
,
flushed
,
apologetic
Amelia
.
Byng
and
Cecilia
have
been
sitting
waiting
for
some
time
in
the
salon
,
from
which
Sybilla
has
removed
her
prostrate
figure
and
tear-stained
face
;
but
they
have
been
entertaining
each
other
so
well
—
she
in
paying
him
a
series
of
marked
attentions
,
and
he
in
civilly
and
pleasantly
accepting
them
—
that
the
half-hour
has
not
seemed
long
to
either
.
But
the
party
,
in
motion
at
last
,
has
passed
the
Roman
Gate
,
and
is
climbing
up
and
up
between
the
high
walls
,
each
step
giving
it
a
greater
vantage
ground
over
the
Flower
City
,
before
Burgoyne
recovers
his
equanimity
.
The
spring
comes
on
apace
.
In
the
gardens
above
their
heads
laurestinus
bushes
,
with
all
their
flowers
out
(
as
they
are
never
seen
in
England
,
where
always
the
east
wind
nips
half
the
little
round
buds
before
they
can
expand
into
blossom
)
,
stand
in
white
and
green
;
rosemary
trees
,
covered
with
gray
bloom
,
hang
down
;
and
against
the
azure
of
the
high
heaven
purple
irides
stand
up
arow
.
It
is
one
of
those
days
on
which
one
can
with
bodily
eyes
see
the
Great
Mother
at
her
quickening
work
;
can
see
her
flushing
the
apple-boughs
,
unfolding
the
fig-leaves
,
and
driving
the
lusty
green
blood
through
the
sappy
vines
.
And
in
the
slow
creeping
of
the
fiacre
up
the
twisting
white
road
,
each
turn
lays
the
divine
Tuscan
city
before
them
in
some
new
aspect
of
arresting
loveliness
.
At
Florence
,
one
is
like
Balaam
with
the
Israelites
.
One
is
taken
to
see
her
from
one
point
after
another
,
each
point
seeming
fairer
than
the
last
;
but
the
likeness
ends
there
,
for
no
wish
to
curse
the
sweet
town
could
ever
arise
in
even
the
morosest
heart
.
The
hills
have
put
on
their
summer
look
of
dreamy
warmth
and
distance
.
Before
they
have
reached
the
hilltop
the
boon
Italian
air
has
kissed
most
of
the
creases
out
of
Jim
's
temper
,
and
the
brick-red
from
Amelia
's
cheek-bones
.
He
looks
remorsefully
from
the
triumphant
beauty
around
,
into
the
poor
,
fond
face
opposite
to
him
—
looks
at
her
with
a
sort
of
compassion
for
being
so
unlovely
,
mixed
with
a
compunctious
admiration
and
tenderness
for
her
gentle
qualities
.
He
may
touch
her
hand
without
fear
of
observation
,
so
wholly
is
Byng
enveloped
in
the
mantle
of
Cecilia
's
voluble
tenderness
.
"
Have
you
forgiven
me
?
"
he
asks
,
smiling
;
"
I
will
make
any
apologies
,
eat
any
dirt
,
say
anything
,
short
of
allowing
that
Sybilla
is
not
bilious
.
"
They
have
reached
the
villa
,
and
turned
out
of
the
dusty
highway
into
a
great
cool
courtyard
,
that
has
a
Moorish
look
,
with
its
high
arches
,
over
which
the
Banksia
roses
tumble
in
cascades
of
yellow
and
white
.
It
seems
wrong
that
the
voices
which
come
from
the
tea-tables
under
the
Loggia
should
be
chattering
English
or
Yankee
,
instead
of
cooing
that
"
sweet
bastard
Latin
"
that
better
suits
place
and
day
.
The
hostess
shakes
hands
absently
with
Burgoyne
,
offers
his
fair
charges
iced
coffee
,
and
then
,
having
discharged
her
conscience
towards
them
,
draws
Byng
away
for
an
intimate
chat
.
From
her
hands
he
passes
into
those
of
several
other
willing
matrons
and
maids
,
and
it
seems
likely
that
the
party
who
brought
him
will
see
him
no
more
.
Amelia
,
unused
to
,
and
unexpectant
of
attention
,
is
perfectly
content
to
sit
silent
,
sipping
her
cold
coffee
;
but
Cecilia
is
champing
her
bit
in
a
way
which
frightens
her
future
brother-in-law
so
much
that
he
cowardly
takes
the
opportunity
of
her
looking
in
another
direction
to
lure
his
docile
fiancée
on
to
the
broad
terrace
,
whence
all
the
young
green
glory
of
the
Arno
's
plain
,
and
the
empurpled
slopes
and
dreamful
breast
of
Morello
,
are
to
be
seen
by
the
looker
's
beauty-drunk
eye
.
Upon
this
terrace
many
people
are
walking
and
sitting
in
twos
and
threes
,
and
in
one
of
the
little
groups
Amelia
presently
discovers
a
female
acquaintance
,
who
at
once
fastens
upon
her
,
and
happening
to
be
afflicted
with
a
relative
visited
by
a
disorder
of
something
the
same
nature
as
Sybilla
's
,
subjects
her
to
a
searching
and
exhaustive
catechism
as
to
the
nature
of
her
sister
's
symptoms
.
Sybilla
's
symptoms
,
whether
at
first
or
second
hand
,
have
invariably
the
property
of
driving
Jim
into
desert
places
;
and
,
in
the
present
instance
,
seeing
no
likelihood
of
an
end
to
the
relation
of
them
,
he
turns
impatiently
away
,
and
,
without
much
thought
of
where
he
is
going
,
follows
a
steep
downward
path
that
ends
in
a
descent
of
old
stone
steps
,
between
whose
crevices
green
plants
and
little
hawkweed
blow-balls
flourish
undisturbed
,
to
a
large
square
well
,
framed
by
a
low
broad
parapet
,
with
flower-beds
set
around
it
,
and
the
whole
closed
in
by
rugged
stone
walls
.
No
one
apparently
has
had
the
same
impulse
as
he
,
for
,
at
first
,
he
has
the
cool
solitude
to
himself
.
He
sits
down
on
the
parapet
of
the
still
well
,
and
drops
in
pebbles
to
see
how
deep
the
water
is
;
and
anon
lifts
his
idle
look
to
the
empty
niches
in
the
crumbling
wall
—
niches
where
once
wood-god
,
or
water-nymph
,
or
rural
Pan
stood
in
stone
,
now
empty
and
forsaken
.
Out
of
the
wall
two
ilexes
grow
,
and
lift
themselves
against
the
sapphire
arch
,
which
yet
is
no
sapphire
,
nor
of
any
name
that
belongs
to
cold
stone
;
a
blue
by
which
all
other
blues
are
but
feeble
colourless
ghosts
of
that
divinest
tint
.
He
is
roused
from
the
vague
reverie
into
which
the
cool
silence
and
the
brooding
beauty
around
have
lulled
him
,
by
the
sound
of
approaching
voices
.
He
is
not
to
have
his
well
any
longer
to
himself
.
He
looks
up
with
that
scarcely
latent
hostility
in
his
eye
with
which
one
regards
the
sudden
intruder
into
a
railway
carriage
,
when
—
counting
on
keeping
it
to
one
's
self
for
a
long
night
journey
—
one
has
diffused
limbs
and
parcels
over
its
whole
area
.
The
owners
of
the
voices
,
having
descended
,
as
he
had
done
,
the
age-worn
steps
,
come
into
sight
.
They
are
both
men
,
and
one
of
them
he
recognises
at
once
as
a
Mr.
Greenock
,
a
well-known
stock
figure
in
Florentine
society
,
a
mature
bachelor
diner-out
,
a
not
ill-natured
retailer
of
news
,
collector
of
bons-mots
,
and
harmless
appendage
of
pretty
women
.
Of
the
other
,
at
whom
he
scarcely
glances
,
all
he
grasps
is
the
fact
that
he
is
dressed
in
clerical
attire
,
and
that
the
first
words
audible
of
his
speech
,
as
he
comes
within
hearing
,
is
the
name
of
an
English
county
—
Devonshire
.
The
answer
comes
in
a
tone
of
keen
interest
:
"
Ah
,
I
thought
there
must
be
a
screw
loose
!
"
As
the
new
arrivals
become
aware
of
the
presence
of
a
third
person
,
they
pause
in
their
talk
;
but
presently
,
Mr.
Greenock
having
recognised
Jim
and
greeted
him
with
a
friendly
nod
and
a
trivial
remark
upon
the
splendour
of
the
day
,
they
resume
their
interrupted
theme
,
standing
together
a
few
yards
distant
from
him
on
the
walk
—
resume
it
in
a
rather
lower
but
still
perfectly
audible
key
.
"
I
thought
there
must
be
some
reason
for
their
shutting
themselves
up
so
resolutely
,
"
continues
Mr.
Greenock
in
the
gratified
tone
of
one
who
has
at
length
solved
a
long-puzzling
riddle
.
"
I
thought
that
there
must
be
a
screw
loose
,
in
fact
;
but
are
you
quite
sure
of
it
?
"
The
other
gives
a
sigh
and
a
shrug
.
"
Unfortunately
there
can
be
no
doubt
on
that
head
;
the
whole
lamentable
occurrence
took
place
under
my
own
eyes
;
the
Moat
is
in
my
parish
.
"
"
Devonshire
!
"
"
A
screw
loose
!
"
"
The
Moat
!
"
Burgoyne
is
still
sitting
on
the
well-brim
;
but
he
no
longer
sees
the
lapis
vault
above
,
nor
the
placid
dark
water
below
.
A
sort
of
horrible
mist
is
swimming
before
his
eyes
;
it
is
of
Elizabeth
Le
Marchant
that
they
are
speaking
.
Through
that
mist
he
snatches
a
scared
look
at
the
speaker
;
at
him
whom
but
two
minutes
ago
he
had
glanced
at
with
such
a
cursory
carelessness
.
Does
he
recognise
him
?
Alas
!
yes
.
Though
changed
by
the
acquisition
of
a
bald
head
and
a
grizzled
beard
,
he
sees
him
at
once
to
be
the
man
who
,
at
the
time
of
his
own
acquaintance
with
the
Le
Marchant
family
,
had
filled
the
office
of
vicar
of
their
parish
;
under
whom
he
had
sat
on
several
drowsy
summer
Sunday
mornings
,
trembling
at
the
boys
'
perilous
antics
in
the
great
curtained
pew
,
and
laughing
inwardly
at
Elizabeth
's
mirth-struggling
efforts
to
control
them
.
"
And
you
say
that
they
never
held
up
their
heads
again
afterwards
?
"
pursues
Mr.
Greenock
in
a
tone
of
good-natured
compassion
,
that
is
yet
largely
tinged
with
gratified
curiosity
.
"
They
left
the
neighbourhood
at
once
,
"
returns
the
clergyman
.
"
Dear
me
,
how
time
flies
!
it
must
be
ten
years
ago
now
,
and
I
never
saw
them
again
until
I
met
the
unhappy
girl
and
her
mother
yesterday
,
driving
in
the
Via
Tornabuoni
;
but
"
—
lowering
his
voice
a
little
more
—
"
you
will
understand
that
this
is
strictly
entre
nous
;
that
it
must
not
go
any
further
.
"
"
What
do
you
think
I
am
made
of
?
"
cries
Mr.
Greenock
in
a
burst
of
generous
indignation
;
"
but
"
—
stepping
a
pace
or
two
nearer
to
his
interlocutor
—
"
I
am
not
quite
sure
that
I
have
got
the
details
of
the
story
right
;
would
you
mind
just
running
it
over
to
me
again
?
"
Jim
has
been
sitting
in
such
a
stunned
stillness
that
it
is
perhaps
no
wonder
that
they
have
forgotten
his
neighbourhood
.
At
all
events
,
the
clergyman
is
evidently
about
to
comply
with
his
companion
's
request
and
recapitulate
the
tale
.
If
Jim
preserves
his
motionless
attitude
but
five
minutes
longer
,
he
will
be
put
into
possession
of
that
story
whose
existence
he
has
already
heavily
conjectured
,
and
the
imagining
of
which
has
made
him
often
,
within
the
last
week
or
two
,
turn
with
nausea
from
his
food
,
and
toss
restlessly
upon
his
bed
.
Without
any
trouble
on
his
part
,
without
any
possible
blame
attaching
to
him
,
he
will
learn
the
poor
soul
's
secret
.
Never
!
If
the
devil
wish
to
tempt
him
with
a
prospect
of
success
,
it
must
be
with
a
less
unhandsome
bait
.
Almost
before
the
two
startled
scandalmongers
have
recalled
the
fact
of
his
existence
by
the
abrupt
noise
of
his
departure
,
he
is
half-way
back
to
the
terrace
,
that
mist
still
before
his
eyes
,
and
a
singing
in
his
ears
.
CHAPTER
XII
.
"
A
merry
going
out
bringeth
often
a
mournful
return
home
;
and
a
joyful
evening
makes
many
times
a
sad
morning
.
"
The
return
drive
,
as
it
is
quicker
,
being
all
downhill
,
so
is
it
a
more
silent
one
than
that
to
the
villa
had
been
.
Byng
,
indeed
,
is
as
gaily
willing
to
be
fondled
by
Cecilia
as
he
was
on
his
way
up
;
but
there
is
a
mixture
of
maidenly
reserve
and
sub-tender
reproach
in
her
manner
which
makes
their
relations
somewhat
strained
.
The
afternoon
's
pleasuring
has
had
a
jading
effect
upon
Amelia
's
spirits
,
as
,
after
having
been
sucked
dry
on
the
subject
of
Sybilla
's
maladies
,
and
afterwards
at
once
shaken
off
,
by
her
female
acquaintance
,
she
has
not
been
fortunate
enough
to
meet
with
anyone
else
to
exchange
talk
with
,
and
has
sat
in
disconsolate
yet
patient
loneliness
on
a
stone
bench
,
afraid
to
stir
from
the
spot
where
he
had
left
her
,
lest
she
might
miss
her
lover
,
of
whom
,
however
,
she
has
unaccountably
seen
nothing
,
until
when
the
Angelus
is
ringing
,
and
the
shadows
spreading
,
he
has
come
to
give
her
curt
notice
,
with
half-averted
face
,
that
the
fiacre
is
at
the
door
.
In
point
of
fact
,
he
has
been
too
conscious
of
the
disorder
of
his
features
to
dare
to
expose
them
sooner
than
he
can
help
to
her
fond
scrutiny
.
He
would
give
anything
to
be
able
to
sit
beside
,
instead
of
opposite
to
her
during
their
drive
home
,
as
a
profile
is
a
much
less
tell-tale
and
more
governable
thing
than
a
full
face
;
and
he
is
painfully
conscious
that
as
often
as
she
imagines
she
can
do
it
without
being
detected
by
him
,
she
is
stealing
looks
of
inquiring
anxiety
at
him
.
He
tries
to
put
her
off
the
scent
by
spasmodic
comments
upon
the
entertainment
that
they
have
just
quitted
;
and
she
does
her
best
to
keep
up
the
ball
of
conversation
,
since
she
sees
that
it
is
his
wish
.
But
in
vain
.
Each
forced
remark
falls
still-born
,
leading
to
nothing
.
It
is
Cecilia
who
at
last
succeeds
in
giving
a
fillip
to
the
languid
talk
.
"
I
did
not
know
that
Mrs.
Roche
was
a
cousin
of
your
beauty
,
Miss
Le
Marchant
,
"
she
says
suddenly
,
growing
tired
of
her
pensive
attitude
,
and
addressing
herself
to
Jim
.
He
starts
guiltily
.
"
Did
not
you
?
"
He
must
look
odd
;
for
even
Cecilia
's
large
and
preoccupied
cow
eyes
rest
upon
him
with
an
expression
of
surprise
.
"
I
wonder
why
she
was
not
there
to-day
.
"
It
is
not
exactly
a
question
,
yet
her
great
shallow
orbs
do
not
seem
to
be
going
to
leave
his
face
until
he
makes
some
response
.
He
forces
himself
to
do
so
.
"
I
understood
Miss
Le
Marchant
to
say
that
they
are
not
going
out
just
now
.
"
"
And
why
are
not
they
,
pray
?
"
inquires
Cecilia
,
in
an
injured
voice
,
as
if
the
retirement
from
the
world
of
the
two
ladies
in
question
were
a
personal
injury
to
herself
;
"
they
are
not
in
mourning
,
all
their
gowns
are
coloured
ones
,
and
they
do
not
look
as
if
they
had
bad
health
—
perhaps
,
however
"
(
after
a
moment
's
thoughtful
attempt
to
find
a
solution
)
—
"
perhaps
,
however
,
they
may
have
something
—
one
never
knows
—
people
have
such
unexpected
diseases
nowadays
—
hysteria
,
perhaps
,
or
fits
.
"
At
this
ingenious
suggestion
Jim
is
conscious
of
a
writhing
motion
passing
over
the
stalwart
form
of
Byng
beside
him
.
In
his
own
brain
,
if
there
is
room
for
anything
but
the
desire
to
evade
Amelia
's
eyes
,
is
a
dim
sense
of
relief
at
a
suggestion
so
grotesquely
wide
of
the
mark
as
that
made
by
the
younger
Miss
Wilson
.
In
perfect
innocence
of
the
effect
produced
upon
her
companions
by
her
bright
hypothesis
,
Cecilia
goes
on
to
remind
her
sister
of
the
parallel
case
of
a
very
handsome
girl
whom
they
had
once
reckoned
among
their
acquaintance
,
and
who
was
periodically
being
found
by
her
family
with
her
head
under
the
fender
.
But
Amelia
rises
but
faintly
to
the
reminiscence
,
and
the
remainder
of
the
drive
is
accomplished
in
a
general
silence
.
The
next
day
is
the
one
which
had
been
fixed
upon
for
the
expedition
to
Certosa
.
It
was
only
with
a
very
large
admixture
of
wormwood
in
his
prospective
pleasure
that
Jim
had
ever
looked
forward
to
this
party
,
but
now
he
anticipates
it
with
absolute
dread
.
How
can
he
face
Elizabeth
and
her
mother
,
with
that
ominous
phrase
of
the
"
screw
loose
"
still
ringing
in
his
ears
?
He
feels
a
traitor
towards
them
,
in
that
he
has
,
however
unwillingly
,
overheard
it
.
To
add
to
his
mental
uneasiness
is
the
fact
of
his
having
as
yet
not
broken
to
Amelia
his
intentions
with
regard
to
the
disposal
of
his
afternoon
.
Amelia
's
eyes
have
for
years
had
the
habit
of
covertly
watching
him
to
read
his
wishes
almost
before
they
rose
;
but
in
their
gaze
yesterday
he
had
,
unless
misled
by
his
guilty
conscience
,
detected
a
new
quality
,
a
quality
of
alarm
and
enlightenment
.
He
will
get
over
the
communication
of
his
piece
of
news
as
early
in
the
day
as
may
be
;
so
,
having
finished
breakfast
before
Byng
has
put
in
his
,
as
usual
,
tardy
appearance
,
he
takes
his
hasty
way
to
the
Anglo-Américain
.
He
finds
the
family
there
in
a
more
placid
frame
of
mind
than
that
which
they
had
presented
on
one
or
two
of
his
recent
visits
.
Sybilla
is
expecting
her
doctor
,
on
which
occasions
she
always
likes
to
have
a
more
lacy
coverlet
than
usual
thrown
over
her
languid
feet
;
a
greater
efflorescence
of
pink
ribbons
about
her
thin
throat
,
and
a
disposition
of
pots
of
lilies
about
her
wan
head
.
Amelia
,
active
and
long-suffering
as
usual
,
is
moving
about
in
patient
execution
of
her
vain
and
tiresome
whimsies
.
Cecilia
sits
tranquilly
in
the
window
,
knitting
an
elaborate
pair
of
men
's
woollen
gloves
,
not
indeed
—
to
do
her
justice
—
for
anyone
in
particular
,
but
with
a
wise
forethought
for
the
accidents
and
possibilities
of
life
.
Since
,
on
this
occasion
,
his
sweetheart
shows
no
inclination
to
draw
him
away
into
the
dining-room
for
a
tête-à-tête
,
Jim
has
to
take
the
bull
by
the
horns
,
and
rush
into
his
subject
in
a
more
public
manner
than
he
had
intended
.
But
the
one
desire
to
get
it
over
outbalances
all
minor
considerations
.
"
Amelia
,
"
he
begins
suddenly
,
and
even
to
himself
his
voice
sounds
discourteous
and
abrupt
,
"
shall
you
want
me
this
afternoon
?
"
The
moment
that
the
words
are
out
of
his
mouth
it
strikes
him
that
the
form
into
which
he
has
thrown
his
question
is
more
than
necessarily
untender
.
She
stops
in
the
patting
of
Sybilla
's
smart
pillows
,
and
perhaps
there
is
something
a
little
abrupt
too
in
her
monosyllabic
"
Why
?
"
"
Because
,
"
standing
before
the
fireplace
,
with
his
back
to
the
three
women
,
and
throwing
the
words
over
his
shoulder
,
"
because
,
if
you
do
not
,
Byng
and
I
were
thinking
of
going
to
Certosa
.
"
There
is
a
pause
.
He
hears
that
Cecilia
's
needles
have
stopped
clicking
;
her
work
has
dropped
into
her
lap
.
In
another
moment
she
will
have
proposed
to
come
too
.
"
With
the
Le
Marchants
,
"
he
goes
on
,
shooting
out
the
fateful
words
like
bullets
;
"
a
partie
carrée
.
"
Still
silence
behind
him
.
He
cannot
go
on
staring
for
ever
at
the
billets
of
wood
of
the
unlit
fire
.
He
has
to
turn
round
and
face
his
companions
.
The
only
one
of
them
whose
pleasure
or
displeasure
in
his
announcement
he
at
all
heeds
—
Amelia
—
is
stooping
over
Sybilla
,
rearranging
in
a
high
,
picturesque
tier
behind
the
invalid
's
long
back
,
three
cushions
,
and
her
face
is
almost
entirely
hidden
from
him
by
her
attitude
.
"
Of
course
if
it
is
in
the
least
inconvenient
,
if
you
have
made
any
other
plans
for
me
—
if
,
in
fact
,
you
want
me
,
"
he
continues
in
a
tone
that
is
at
once
apologetic
and
dogged
.
"
But
I
do
not
,
"
cries
she
,
answering
at
last
,
and
with
a
distinct
laugh
in
her
voice
,
a
laugh
into
whose
quality
he
is
not
anxious
too
curiously
to
inquire
.
"
You
must
not
be
so
conceited
as
to
think
that
I
always
want
you
!
In
point
of
fact
,
you
could
not
have
hit
upon
a
day
that
suited
me
better
.
I
am
really
rather
'
throng
'
to-day
,
as
they
say
in
Yorkshire
.
I
have
quite
a
hundred
things
to
do
,
and
father
wants
me
to
help
him
to
correct
the
proofs
of
his
sermon
,
the
sermon
he
preached
at
Mr.
Moffat
's
church
on
the
Holy
Innocents
'
Day
.
He
has
been
asked
to
publish
it
—
is
not
that
flattering
?
Poor
father
,
I
believe
he
will
end
by
being
a
popular
preacher
—
in
fact
"
(
laughing
again
)
,
"
the
whole
family
is
going
up
in
the
world
!
"
There
is
such
a
forced
mirth
in
her
tone
that
Jim
feels
much
more
guiltily
uncomfortable
than
if
she
had
treated
him
to
hysterics
or
sulks
.
Nor
does
his
satisfaction
with
himself
increase
,
when
,
upon
his
rising
to
depart
,
she
runs
out
of
the
room
after
him
,
to
say
to
him
,
while
her
homely
face
twitches
against
her
will
,
how
much
she
hopes
that
he
will
enjoy
himself
;
how
perfectly
happy
she
shall
be
without
him
;
and
how
eagerly
she
shall
look
forward
to
hearing
all
about
it
from
him
to-morrow
.
"
It
will
be
almost
better
than
going
to
Certosa
herself
,
"
she
ends
.
But
against
the
unnatural
altitude
of
this
last
flight
of
abnegation
nature
revolts
,
and
,
becoming
conscious
of
a
break
in
her
voice
,
she
hastily
retreats
and
gets
back
into
the
salon
,
in
time
to
see
Cecilia
shaking
her
elaborate
head
,
and
to
hear
her
remarking
with
slow
emphasis
,
"
Mark
my
words
!
There
is
something
odd
about
those
people
,
and
it
is
not
hysteria
!
"
With
spirits
sensibly
worsened
by
his
interview
,
Burgoyne
returns
to
the
Minerva
,
and
,
mounting
to
Byng
's
bedroom
,
finds
that
young
gentleman
stretched
upon
his
bed
,
gloom
in
his
usually
jocund
eye
,
and
an
open
letter
lying
on
the
floor
beside
him
.
But
Jim
is
far
too
preoccupied
to
notice
anybody
's
gloom
but
his
own
.
"
I
came
to
ask
at
what
hour
we
are
to
set
off
this
afternoon
?
"
he
says
with
a
sort
of
flat
moroseness
in
his
tone
.
"
We
,
indeed
!
"
rejoins
the
other
with
a
groan
,
and
rolling
over
with
a
sort
of
petulance
on
the
bed
,
dishevelling
the
neatly-smoothed
pillow
by
burrowing
his
ruffled
head
in
it
—
"
we
!
"
There
is
such
a
heart-rent
woe
in
the
accent
with
which
the
last
monosyllable
is
pronounced
that
for
a
moment
Burgoyne
has
no
other
idea
but
that
his
young
friend
,
too
,
has
become
aware
of
the
"
screw
loose
,
"
has
heard
,
perhaps
in
detail
,
that
story
from
before
whose
ominous
opening
he
himself
had
fled
.
The
thought
sends
his
heart
into
his
throat
,
so
as
to
render
him
incapable
of
asking
an
explanation
of
the
other
's
affliction
.
"
We
!
"
repeats
Byng
for
the
third
time
,
and
very
indistinctly
,
as
he
is
now
lying
entirely
on
his
face
.
"
Why
do
you
go
on
saying
'
we
'
in
that
idiotic
way
?
"
asks
Jim
at
last
,
recovering
his
voice
—
recovering
it
only
to
employ
it
in
imitating
the
younger
man
's
accents
,
in
a
manner
which
displays
more
exasperation
than
natural
talent
for
mimicry
.
It
is
not
a
politely-worded
inquiry
,
but
it
has
the
desired
result
of
acting
as
a
tonic
on
him
at
whom
it
is
aimed
,
making
him
not
only
roll
over
once
again
,
but
actually
sit
up
.
"
Why
do
I
say
we
?
"
repeats
he
,
his
young
eyes
looking
lamentably
out
from
under
the
fall
of
his
tumbled
hair
—
"
because
it
is
not
we
!
it
is
you
!
You
lucky
dog
,
you
will
have
her
all
to
yourself
!
"
Jim
heaves
an
inaudible
sigh
of
relief
.
Whatever
may
be
the
cause
of
his
companion
's
enigmatical
conduct
,
it
is
evidently
not
what
he
had
feared
.
There
is
,
however
,
no
evidence
of
relief
or
any
other
mild
quality
in
his
next
remark
.
"
If
you
would
talk
less
like
an
ass
,
I
should
have
a
better
chance
of
knowing
what
you
are
driving
at
!
"
The
query
seems
only
to
renew
and
deepen
the
other
's
tribulation
.
He
falls
back
into
his
former
attitude
.
"
You
will
hold
the
white
wonder
of
dear
Juliet
's
hand
!
"
he
groans
.
"
No
,
do
not
go
"
(
with
a
sudden
and
startling
change
of
tone
,
springing
off
the
bed
,
as
he
becomes
aware
that
his
friend
is
making
for
the
door
,
unable
to
bear
those
rhapsodies
,
whose
full
distastefulness
to
their
hearer
the
utterer
little
conjectures
)
.
"
I
'll
tell
you
!
I
'll
explain
.
Why
are
you
in
such
a
deuce
of
a
hurry
?
I
cannot
go
to
Certosa
because
I
have
just
heard
from
my
mother
that
she
is
to
arrive
to-day
.
She
will
be
here
in
another
hour
.
"
Jim
's
fingers
are
already
on
the
door
handle
,
but
this
piece
of
news
arrests
him
.
"
Your
mother
?
I
did
not
know
that
she
was
coming
abroad
.
"
"
No
more
did
I
!
"
"
It
must
have
been
a
very
sudden
thought
!
"
"
Very
!
"
"
What
a
delightful
surprise
for
you
!
"
"
Delightful
!
"
There
is
so
ludicrous
a
discrepancy
between
the
adjective
and
the
accent
with
which
it
is
rendered
that
Jim
bursts
into
a
bitter
laugh
.
"
She
would
be
flattered
if
she
could
see
your
elation
at
the
prospect
of
meeting
her
!
"
Byng
's
blood
rushes
up
under
his
clear
smooth
skin
at
his
friend
's
jeer
,
but
he
answers
,
with
some
dignity
:
"
I
do
not
think
you
have
any
right
to
imply
that
I
am
not
always
glad
to
see
my
mother
;
I
do
not
deny
that
,
if
it
had
been
equally
convenient
to
her
,
I
had
rather
she
should
have
come
twenty-four
hours
later
.
"
Jim
feels
ashamed
of
himself
,
though
,
being
an
Anglo-Saxon
,
he
has
far
too
much
false
shame
to
confess
it
directly
,
and
what
he
means
for
an
amende
,
when
it
comes
,
is
of
an
oblique
nature
.
"
I
think
far
the
best
plan
will
be
to
put
off
the
excursion
altogether
;
I
am
sure
that
I
am
not
particularly
keen
about
it
.
"
The
indignant
red
has
rapidly
died
out
of
Byng
's
face
;
his
placability
being
only
to
be
surpassed
by
his
slowness
to
take
offence
.
"
Is
it
possible
?
"
he
asks
in
a
tone
of
stupefaction
;
then
,
with
a
sudden
tardy
recollection
of
the
rosy
fetters
in
which
his
friend
is
held
by
another
lady
,
he
adds
—
"
But
,
of
course
,
you
are
not
—
I
was
forgetting
!
"
Jim
winces
.
"
As
it
is
your
party
,
you
had
better
send
up
a
note
at
once
to
the
Piazza
d'Azeglio
.
"
"
No
,
do
not
let
us
both
throw
them
over
!
"
cries
Byng
eagerly
.
"
Heaven
knows
it
was
hard
enough
to
persuade
them
to
accept
in
the
first
instance
.
If
you
go
we
shall
at
all
events
keep
our
communications
open
;
and
you
—
you
will
say
something
to
her
for
me
?
"
"
What
kind
of
something
?
"
inquires
the
older
man
carpingly
.
"
Am
I
to
tell
her
only
what
a
fine
fellow
you
are
in
general
,
or
anything
more
circumstantial
?
"
"
Tell
her
—
—
"
begins
Byng
in
a
rapt
voice
;
but
apparently
the
sight
of
his
companion
,
who
has
somewhat
ostentatiously
pulled
