diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:47:35 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:47:35 -0700 |
| commit | e26348b5ba2256a087cd2385747623412f97bfc4 (patch) | |
| tree | 6f21e53749bdc278eefb31b163e2fc14713e6b70 /29452-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '29452-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 29452-h/29452-h.htm | 10507 |
1 files changed, 10507 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/29452-h/29452-h.htm b/29452-h/29452-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e34eb7f --- /dev/null +++ b/29452-h/29452-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10507 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html lang="en"> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content="HTML Tidy, see www.w3.org"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Wings of The Dove, by Henry James</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } +</STYLE> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Wings of the Dove, Volume 1 of 2, by Henry James + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Wings of the Dove, Volume 1 of 2 + +Author: Henry James + +Release Date: July 19, 2009 [EBook #29452] +[Last updated: October 12, 2022] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINGS OF THE DOVE, VOL 1 OF 2 *** + + + + +Produced by James Adcock. Special thanks to The Internet +Archive: American Libraries, and Project Gutenberg Australia + + + + + + +</pre> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1 align="center">THE WINGS OF THE DOVE</h1> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3 align="center">BY</h3> +<h2 align="center">HENRY JAMES</h2> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3 align="center">VOLUME I</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3 align="center">NEW YORK</h3> +<h2 align="center">CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h2> + +<h3 align="center">1902</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h5 align="center">Copyright, 1902, by</h5> +<h5 align="center">CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h5> +<h3 align="center">——</h3> +<h5 align="center">Published, August, 1902</h5> +<br> +<br> +<h5 align="center">TROW DIRECTORY</h5> +<h5 align="center">PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY</h5> +<h5 align="center">NEW YORK</h5> +<br><br> +<br><br> +<br><br> +<h2 align="center">BOOK FIRST</h2> +<br><br> +<br><br> +<br><br> +<h2 align="center">THE WINGS OF THE DOVE</h2> +<br> +<br> +<h2 align="center">I</h2> +<br> +<br> +<p> +She waited, Kate Croy, for her father to come +in, but he kept her unconscionably, and there +were moments at which she showed herself, in the +glass over the mantel, a face positively pale with +the irritation that had brought her to the point of +going away without sight of him. It was at this +point, however, that she remained; changing her +place, moving from the shabby sofa to the armchair +upholstered in a glazed cloth that gave at +once—she had tried it—the sense of the slippery and +of the sticky. She had looked at the sallow prints +on the walls and at the lonely magazine, a year old, +that combined, with a small lamp in coloured glass +and a knitted white centre-piece wanting in freshness, +to enhance the effect of the purplish cloth on +the principal table; she had above all, from time to +time, taken a brief stand on the small balcony to +which the pair of long windows gave access. The +vulgar little street, in this view, offered scant relief +from the vulgar little room; its main office was to +suggest to her that the narrow black house-fronts, +adjusted to a standard that would have been low +even for backs, constituted quite the publicity implied +by such privacies. One felt them in the room +exactly as one felt the room—the hundred like it +or worse—in the street. Each time she turned in +again, each time, in her impatience, she gave him +up, it was to sound to a deeper depth, while she +tasted the faint, flat emanation of things, the failure +of fortune and of honour. If she continued to wait +it was really, in a manner, that she might not add +the shame of fear, of individual, personal collapse, +to all the other shames. To feel the street, to feel +the room, to feel the table-cloth and the centre-piece +and the lamp, gave her a small, salutary sense, at +least, of neither shirking nor lying. This whole +vision was the worst thing yet—as including, in particular, +the interview for which she had prepared +herself; and for what had she come but for the +worst? She tried to be sad, so as not to be angry; +but it made her angry that she couldn't be sad. And +yet where was misery, misery too beaten for blame +and chalk-marked by fate like a "lot" at a common +auction, if not in these merciless signs of mere +mean, stale feelings? +</p><p> +Her father's life, her sister's, her own, that of +her two lost brothers—the whole history of their +house had the effect of some fine florid, voluminous +phrase, say even a musical, that dropped first into +words, into notes, without sense, and then, hanging +unfinished, into no words, no notes at all. Why +should a set of people have been put in motion, on +such a scale and with such an air of being equipped +for a profitable journey, only to break down without +an accident, to stretch themselves in the wayside +dust without a reason? The answer to these questions +was not in Chirk Street, but the questions themselves +bristled there, and the girl's repeated pause +before the mirror and the chimney-place might +have represented her nearest approach to an escape +from them. Was it not in fact the partial escape +from this "worst" in which she was steeped to be +able to make herself out again as agreeable to see? +She stared into the tarnished glass too hard indeed +to be staring at her beauty alone. She readjusted +the poise of her black, closely-feathered hat; retouched, +beneath it, the thick fall of her dusky hair; +kept her eyes, aslant, no less on her beautiful averted +than on her beautiful presented oval. She was +dressed altogether in black, which gave an even +tone, by contrast, to her clear face and made her +hair more harmoniously dark. Outside, on the balcony, +her eyes showed as blue; within, at the mirror, +they showed almost as black. She was handsome, +but the degree of it was not sustained by +items and aids; a circumstance moreover playing +its part at almost any time in the impression she +produced. The impression was one that remained, +but as regards the sources of it no sum in addition +would have made up the total. She had stature +without height, grace without motion, presence +without mass. Slender and simple, frequently +soundless, she was somehow always in the line of +the eye—she counted singularly for its pleasure. +More "dressed," often, with fewer accessories, than +other women, or less dressed, should occasion require, +with more, she probably could not have given +the key to these felicities. They were mysteries of +which her friends were conscious—those friends +whose general explanation was to say that she was +clever, whether or no it were taken by the world as +the cause or as the effect of her charm. If she saw +more things than her fine face in the dull glass of +her father's lodgings, she might have seen that, after +all, she was not herself a fact in the collapse. She +didn't judge herself cheap, she didn't make for +misery. Personally, at least, she was not chalk-marked +for the auction. She hadn't given up yet, +and the broken sentence, if she was the last word, +would end with a sort of meaning. There was a +minute during which, though her eyes were fixed, +she quite visibly lost herself in the thought of the +way she might still pull things round had she only +been a man. It was the name, above all, she would +take in hand—the precious name she so liked and +that, in spite of the harm her wretched father had +done it, was not yet past praying for. She loved it +in fact the more tenderly for that bleeding wound. +But what could a penniless girl do with it but let +it go? +</p><p> +When her father at last appeared she became, as +usual, instantly aware of the futility of any effort +to hold him to anything. He had written her that +he was ill, too ill to leave his room, and that he +must see her without delay; and if this had been, +as was probable, the sketch of a design, he was indifferent +even to the moderate finish required for +deception. He had clearly wanted, for perversities +that he called reasons, to see her, just as she herself +had sharpened for a talk; but she now again felt, in +the inevitability of the freedom he used with her, +all the old ache, her poor mother's very own, that +he couldn't touch you ever so lightly without setting +up. No relation with him could be so short +or so superficial as not to be somehow to your hurt; +and this, in the strangest way in the world, not +because he desired it to be—feeling often, as he +surely must, the profit for him of its not being—but +because there was never a mistake for you that +he could leave unmade or a conviction of his impossibility +in you that he could approach you without +strengthening. He might have awaited her on +the sofa in his sitting-room, or might have stayed +in bed and received her in that situation. She was +glad to be spared the sight of such <i>penetralia,</i> but +it would have reminded her a little less that there +was no truth in him. This was the weariness of +every fresh meeting; he dealt out lies as he might +the cards from the greasy old pack for the game +of diplomacy to which you were to sit down with +him. The inconvenience—as always happens in +such cases—was not that you minded what was +false, but that you missed what was true. He might +be ill, and it might suit you to know it, but no contact +with him, for this, could ever be straight enough. +Just so he even might die, but Kate fairly wondered +on what evidence of his own she would some day +have to believe it. +</p><p> +He had not at present come down from his room, +which she knew to be above the one they were in: +he had already been out of the house, though he +would either, should she challenge him, deny it or +present it as a proof of his extremity. She had, +however, by this time, quite ceased to challenge him; +not only, face to face with him, vain irritation +dropped, but he breathed upon the tragic consciousness +in such a way that after a moment nothing of +it was left. The difficulty was not less that he +breathed in the same way upon the comic: she almost +believed that with this latter she might still +have found a foothold for clinging to him. He had +ceased to be amusing—he was really too inhuman. +His perfect look, which had floated him so long, was +practically perfect still; but one had long since for +every occasion taken it for granted. Nothing could +have better shown than the actual how right one +had been. He looked exactly as much as usual—all +pink and silver as to skin and hair, all straitness +and starch as to figure and dress—the man in +the world least connected with anything unpleasant. +He was so particularly the English gentleman and +the fortunate, settled, normal person. Seen at a +foreign <i>table d'hôte,</i> he suggested but one thing: +"In what perfection England produces them!" He +had kind, safe eyes, and a voice which, for all its +clean fulness, told, in a manner, the happy history +of its having never had once to raise itself. Life +had met him so, half-way, and had turned round so +to walk with him, placing a hand in his arm and +fondly leaving him to choose the pace. Those who +knew him a little said, "How he does dress!"—those +who knew him better said, "How <i>does</i> he?" +The one stray gleam of comedy just now in his +daughter's eyes was the funny feeling he momentarily +made her have of being herself "looked up" by +him in sordid lodgings. For a minute after he came +in it was as if the place were her own and he the visitor +with susceptibilities. He gave you funny feelings, +he had indescribable arts, that quite turned the +tables: that had been always how he came to see +her mother so long as her mother would see him. +He came from places they had often not known +about, but he patronised Lexham Gardens. Kate's +only actual expression of impatience, however, was +"I'm glad you're so much better!" +</p><p> +"I'm not so much better, my dear—I'm exceedingly +unwell; the proof of which is, precisely, that +I've been out to the chemist's—that beastly fellow +at the corner." So Mr. Croy showed he could +qualify the humble hand that assuaged him. "I'm +taking something he has made up for me. It's just +why I've sent for you—that you may see me as I +really am." +</p><p> +"Oh papa, it's long since I've ceased to see you +otherwise than as you really are! I think we've +all arrived by this time at the right word for that: +'You're beautiful—<i>n'en parlons plus.'</i> You're as +beautiful as ever—you look lovely." He judged +meanwhile her own appearance, as she knew she +could always trust him to do; recognising, estimating, +sometimes disapproving, what she wore, showing +her the interest he continued to take in her. He +might really take none at all, yet she virtually knew +herself the creature in the world to whom he was +least indifferent. She had often enough wondered +what on earth, at the pass he had reached, could +give him pleasure, and she had come back, on these +occasions, to that. It gave him pleasure that she +was handsome, that she was, in her way, a sensible +value. It was at least as marked, nevertheless, that +he derived none from similar conditions, so far as +they <i>were</i> similar, in his other child. Poor Marian +might be handsome, but he certainly didn't care. +The hitch here, of course, was that, with whatever +beauty, her sister, widowed and almost in want, with +four bouncing children, was not a sensible value. +She asked him, the next thing, how long he had been +in his actual quarters, though aware of how little +it mattered, how little any answer he might make +would probably have in common with the truth. +She failed in fact to notice his answer, truthful or +not, already occupied as she was with what she had +on her own side to say to him. This was really what +had made her wait—what superseded the small +remainder of her resentment at his constant practical +impertinence; the result of all of which was that, +within a minute, she had brought it out. "Yes—even +now I'm willing to go with you. I don't know +what you may have wished to say to me, and even +if you hadn't written you would within a day or +two have heard from me. Things have happened, +and I've only waited, for seeing you, till I should be +quite sure. I <i>am</i> quite sure. I'll go with you." +</p><p> +It produced an effect. "Go with me where?" +</p><p> +"Anywhere. I'll stay with you. Even here." +She had taken off her gloves and, as if she had +arrived with her plan, she sat down. +</p><p> +Lionel Croy hung about in his disengaged way—hovered +there as if, in consequence of her words, +looking for a pretext to back out easily: on which +she immediately saw she had discounted, as it +might be called, what he had himself been preparing. +He wished her not to come to him, still less to +settle with him, and had sent for her to give her +up with some style and state; a part of the beauty +of which, however, was to have been his sacrifice +to her own detachment. There was no style, no +state, unless she wished to forsake him. His idea +had accordingly been to surrender her to her wish +with all nobleness; it had by no means been to have +positively to keep her off. She cared, however, not +a straw for his embarrassment—feeling how little, +on her own part, she was moved by charity. She +had seen him, first and last, in so many attitudes that +she could now deprive him quite without compunction +of the luxury of a new one. Yet she felt the +disconcerted gasp in his tone as he said: "Oh my +child, I can never consent to that!" +</p><p> +"What then are you going to do?" +</p><p> +"I'm turning it over," said Lionel Croy. "You +may imagine if I'm not thinking." +</p><p> +"Haven't you thought then," his daughter asked, +"of what I speak of? I mean of my being ready." +</p><p> +Standing before her with his hands behind him +and his legs a little apart, he swayed slightly to and +fro, inclined toward her as if rising on his toes. It +had an effect of conscientious deliberation. "No. +I haven't. I couldn't. I wouldn't." It was so respectable, +a show that she felt afresh, and with the +memory of their old despair, the despair at home, +how little his appearance ever by any chance told +about him. His plausibility had been the heaviest +of her mother's crosses; inevitably so much more +present to the world than whatever it was that was +horrid—thank God they didn't really know!—that +he had done. He had positively been, in his way, +by the force of his particular type, a terrible husband +not to live with; his type reflecting so invidiously +on the woman who had found him distasteful. +Had this thereby not kept directly present to Kate +herself that it might, on some sides, prove no light +thing for her to leave uncompanioned a parent with +such a face and such a manner? Yet if there was +much she neither knew nor dreamed of, it passed +between them at this very moment that he was quite +familiar with himself as the subject of such quandaries. +If he recognised his younger daughter's +happy aspect as a sensible value, he had from the +first still more exactly appraised his own. The great +wonder was not that in spite of everything his own +had helped him; the great wonder was that it hadn't +helped him more. However, it was, to its old, +eternal, recurrent tune, helping him all the while; +her drop into patience with him showed how it +was helping him at this moment. She saw the next +instant precisely the line he would take. "Do you +really ask me to believe you've been making up your +mind to that?" +</p><p> +She had to consider her own line. "I don't think +I care, papa, what you believe. I never, for that +matter, think of you as believing anything; hardly +more," she permitted herself to add, "than I ever +think of you as yourself believed. I don't know +you, father, you see." +</p><p> +"And it's your idea that you may make that up?" +</p><p> +"Oh dear, no; not at all. That's no part of the +question. If I haven't understood you by this time, +I never shall, and it doesn't matter. It has seemed +to me that you may be lived with, but not that you +may be understood. Of course I've not the least +idea how you get on." +</p><p> +"I don't get on," Mr. Croy almost gaily replied. +</p><p> +His daughter took in the place again, and it might +well have seemed odd that in so little to meet the +eye there should be so much to show. What showed +was the ugliness—so positive and palpable that it +was somehow sustaining. It was a medium, a setting, +and to that extent, after all, a dreadful sign +of life; so that it fairly put a point into her answer. +"Oh, I beg your pardon. You flourish." +</p><p> +"Do you throw it up at me again," he pleasantly +inquired, "that I've not made away with myself?" +</p><p> +She treated the question as needing no reply; she +sat there for real things. "You know how all our +anxieties, under mamma's will, have come out. She +had still less to leave than she feared. We don't +know how we lived. It all makes up about two hundred +a year for Marian, and two for me, but I give +up a hundred to Marian." +</p><p> +"Oh, you weak thing!" her father kindly sighed. +</p><p> +"For you and me together," she went on, "the +other hundred would do something." +</p><p> +"And what would do the rest?" +</p><p> +"Can you yourself do nothing?" +He gave her a look; then, slipping his hands into +his pockets and turning away, stood for a little at +the window she had left open. She said nothing +more—she had placed him there with that question, +and the silence lasted a minute, broken by the call +of an appealing costermonger, which came in with +the mild March air, with the shabby sunshine, fearfully +unbecoming to the room, and with the small +homely hum of Chirk Street. Presently he moved +nearer, but as if her question had quite dropped. +"I don't see what has so suddenly wound you up." +</p><p> +"I should have thought you might perhaps guess. +Let me at any rate tell you. Aunt Maud has made +me a proposal. But she has also made me a condition. +She wants to keep me." +</p><p> +"And what in the world else <i>could</i> she possibly +want?" +</p><p> +"Oh, I don't know—many things. I'm not so +precious a capture," the girl a little dryly explained. +"No one has ever wanted to keep me before." +</p><p> +Looking always what was proper, her father +looked now still more surprised than interested. +"You've not had proposals?" He spoke as if that +were incredible of Lionel Croy's daughter; as if +indeed such an admission scarce consorted, even in +filial intimacy, with her high spirit and general form. +</p><p> +"Not from rich relations. She's extremely kind +to me, but it's time, she says, that we should understand +each other." +</p><p> +Mr. Croy fully assented. "Of course it is—high +time; and I can quite imagine what she means by +it." +</p><p> +"Are you very sure?" +</p><p> +"Oh, perfectly. She means that she'll 'do' for +you handsomely if you'll break off all relations with +me. You speak of her condition. Her condition's +of course that." +</p><p> +"Well then," said Kate, "it's what has wound +me up. Here I am." +</p><p> +He showed with a gesture how thoroughly he +had taken it in; after which, within a few seconds, +he had, quite congruously, turned the situation +about. "Do you really suppose me in a position to +justify your throwing yourself upon me?" +</p><p> +She waited a little, but when she spoke it was +clear. "Yes." +</p><p> +"Well then, you're a bigger fool than I should +have ventured to suppose you." +</p><p> +"Why so? You live. You flourish. You +bloom." +</p><p> +"Ah, how you've all always hated me!" he murmured +with a pensive gaze again at the window. +</p><p> +"No one could be less of a mere cherished memory," +she declared as if she had not heard him. +"You're an actual person, if there ever was one. +We agreed just now that you're beautiful. You +strike me, you know, as—in your own way—much +more firm on your feet than I am. Don't put it +to me therefore as monstrous that the fact that we +are, after all, parent and child should at present in +some manner count for us. My idea has been that +it should have some effect for each of us. I don't +at all, as I told you just now," she pursued, "make +out your life; but whatever it is I hereby offer you +to accept it. And, on my side, I'll do everything I +can for you." +</p><p> +"I see," said Lionel Croy. Then, with the sound +of extreme relevance, "And what <i>can</i> you?" She +only, at this, hesitated, and he took up her silence. +"You can describe yourself—<i>to</i> yourself—as, in a +fine flight, giving up your aunt for me; but what +good, I should like to know, would your fine flight +do me?" As she still said nothing he developed a +little. "We're not possessed of so much, at this +charming pass, please to remember, as that we can +afford not to take hold of any perch held out to +us. I like the way you talk, my dear, about 'giving +up!' One doesn't give up the use of a spoon +because one's reduced to living on broth. And your +spoon, that is your aunt, please consider, is partly +mine as well." She rose now, as if in sight of the +term of her effort, in sight of the futility and the +weariness of many things, and moved back to the +poor little glass with which she had communed before. +She retouched here again the poise of her hat, +and this brought to her father's lips another remark +in which impatience, however, had already +been replaced by a funny flare of appreciation. "Oh, +you're all right! Don't muddle yourself up with +<i>me!"</i> +</p><p> +His daughter turned round to him. "The condition +Aunt Maud makes is that I shall have absolutely +nothing to do with you; never see you, nor +speak, nor write to you, never go near you nor make +you a sign, nor hold any sort of communication with +you. What she requires is that you shall simply +cease to exist for me." +</p><p> +He had always seemed—it was one of the marks +of what they called the "unspeakable" in him—to +walk a little more on his toes, as if for jauntiness, +in the presence of offence. Nothing, however, was +more wonderful than what he sometimes would take +for offence, unless it might be what he sometimes +wouldn't. He walked at any rate on his toes now. +"A very proper requirement of your Aunt Maud, +my dear—I don't hesitate to say it!" Yet as this, +much as she had seen, left her silent at first from +what might have been a sense of sickness, he had +time to go on: "That's her condition then. But +what are her promises? Just what does she engage +to do? You must work it, you know." +</p><p> +"You mean make her feel," Kate asked after a +moment, "how much I'm attached to you?" +</p><p> +"Well, what a cruel, invidious treaty it is for +you to sign. I'm a poor old dad to make a stand +about giving up—I quite agree. But I'm not, +after all, quite the old dad not to get something <i>for</i> +giving up." +</p><p> +"Oh, I think her idea," said Kate almost gaily +now, "is that I shall get a great deal." +</p><p> +He met her with his inimitable amenity. "But +does she give you the items?" +</p><p> +The girl went through the show. "More or +less, I think. But many of them are things I dare +say I may take for granted—things women can do +for each other and that you wouldn't understand." +</p><p> +"There's nothing I understand so well, always, +as the things I needn't! But what I want to do, +you see," he went on, "is to put it to your conscience +that you've an admirable opportunity; and +that it's moreover one for which, after all, damn +you, you've really to thank <i>me."</i> +</p><p> +"I confess I don't see," Kate observed, "what +my 'conscience' has to do with it." +</p><p> +"Then, my dear girl, you ought simply to be +ashamed of yourself. Do you know what you're +a proof of, all you hard, hollow people together?" +He put the question with a charming air of sudden +spiritual heat. "Of the deplorably superficial morality +of the age. The family sentiment, in our vulgarised, +brutalised life, has gone utterly to pot. +There was a day when a man like me—by which +I mean a parent like me—would have been for a +daughter like you a quite distinct value; what's +called in the business world, I believe, an 'asset.'" +He continued sociably to make it out. "I'm not +talking only of what you might, with the right +feeling do <i>for</i> me, but of what you might—it's what +I call your opportunity—do <i>with</i> me. Unless indeed," +he the next moment imperturbably threw off, +"they come a good deal to the same thing. Your +duty as well as your chance, if you're capable of +seeing it, is to use me. Show family feeling by +seeing what I'm good for. If you had it as <i>I</i> have +it you'd see I'm still good—well, for a lot of things. +There's in fact, my dear," Mr. Croy wound up, +"a coach-and-four to be got out of me." His +drop, or rather his climax, failed a little of effect, +indeed, through an undue precipitation of memory. +Something his daughter had said came back to him. +"You've settled to give away half your little inheritance?" +</p><p> +Her hesitation broke into laughter. "No—I +haven't 'settled' anything." +</p><p> +"But you mean, practically, to let Marian collar +it?" They stood there face to face, but she so denied +herself to his challenge that he could only go +on. "You've a view of three hundred a year for +her in addition to what her husband left her with? +Is <i>that,"</i> the remote progenitor of such wantonness +audibly wondered, "your morality?" +</p><p> +Kate found her answer without trouble. "Is it +your idea that I should give you everything?" +</p><p> +The "everything" clearly struck him—to the +point even of determining the tone of his reply. +"Far from it. How can you ask that when I refuse +what you tell me you came to offer? Make of my +idea what you can; I think I've sufficiently expressed +it, and it's at any rate to take or to leave. +It's the only one, I may nevertheless add; it's the +basket with all my eggs. It's my conception, in +short, of your duty." +</p><p> +The girl's tired smile watched the word as if it +had taken on a small grotesque visibility. "You're +wonderful on such subjects! I think I should leave +you in no doubt," she pursued, "that if I were to +sign my aunt's agreement I should carry it out, in +honour, to the letter." +</p><p> +"Rather, my own love! It's just your honour +that I appeal to. The only way to play the game +<i>is</i> to play it. There's no limit to what your aunt +can do for you." +</p><p> +"Do you mean in the way of marrying me?" +</p><p> +"What else should I mean? Marry properly——" +</p><p> +"And then?" Kate asked as he hung fire. +</p><p> +"And then—well, I <i>will</i> talk with you. I'll resume +relations." +</p><p> +She looked about her and picked up her parasol. +"Because you're not so afraid of any one else in the +world as you are of <i>her?</i> My husband, if I should +marry, would be, at the worst, less of a terror? If +that's what you mean, there may be something in +it. But doesn't it depend a little also on what you +mean by my getting a proper one? However," Kate +added as she picked out the frill of her little umbrella, +"I don't suppose your idea of him is <i>quite</i> +that he should persuade you to live with us." +</p><p> +"Dear no—not a bit." He spoke as not resenting +either the fear or the hope she imputed; met +both imputations, in fact, with a sort of intellectual +relief. "I place the case for you wholly in your +aunt's hands. I take her view, with my eyes shut; +I accept in all confidence any man she selects. If +he's good enough for <i>her</i>—elephantine snob as she +is—he's good enough for me; and quite in spite of +the fact that she'll be sure to select one who can +be trusted to be nasty to me. My only interest is +in your doing what she wants. You shan't be so +beastly poor, my darling," Mr. Croy declared, "if +I can help it." +</p><p> +"Well then, good-bye, papa," the girl said after +a reflection on this that had perceptibly ended for +her in a renunciation of further debate. "Of +course you understand that it may be for long." +</p><p> +Her companion, hereupon, had one of his finest +inspirations. "Why not, frankly, for ever? You +must do me the justice to see that I don't do things, +that I've never done them, by halves—that if I +offer you to efface myself, it's for the final, fatal +sponge that I ask, well saturated and well applied." +</p><p> +She turned her handsome, quiet face upon him at +such length that it might well have been for the +last time. "I don't know what you're like." +</p><p> +"No more do I, my dear. I've spent my life in +trying, in vain, to discover. Like nothing—more's +the pity. If there had been many of us, and we +could have found each other out, there's no knowing +what we mightn't have done. But it doesn't +matter now. Good-bye, love." He looked even not +sure of what she would wish him to suppose on the +subject of a kiss, yet also not embarrassed by his +uncertainty. +</p><p> +She forbore in fact for a moment longer to clear +it up. "I wish there were some one here who +might serve—for any contingency—as a witness that +I <i>have</i> put it to you that I'm ready to come." +</p><p> +"Would you like me," her father asked, "to call +the landlady?" +</p><p> +"You may not believe me," she pursued, "but I +came really hoping you might have found some way. +I'm very sorry, at all events, to leave you unwell." +He turned away from her, on this, and, as he had +done before, took refuge, by the window, in a stare +at the street. "Let me put it—unfortunately without +a witness," she added after a moment, "that +there's only one word you really need speak." +</p><p> +When he took this up it was still with his back +to her. "If I don't strike you as having already +spoken it, our time has been singularly wasted." +</p><p> +"I'll engage with you in respect to my aunt exactly +to what she wants of me in respect to you. +She wants me to choose. Very well, I <i>will</i> choose. +I'll wash my hands of her for you to just that tune." +</p><p> +He at last brought himself round. "Do you +know, dear, you make me sick? I've tried to be +clear, and it isn't fair." +</p><p> +But she passed this over; she was too visibly sincere. +"Father!" +</p><p> +"I don't quite see what's the matter with you," +he said, "and if you can't pull yourself together I'll—upon +my honour—take you in hand. Put you into +a cab and deliver you again safe at Lancaster Gate." +</p><p> +She was really absent, distant. "Father." +</p><p> +It was too much, and he met it sharply. "Well?" +</p><p> +"Strange as it may be to you to hear me say it, +there's a good you can do me and a help you can +render." +</p><p> +"Isn't it then exactly what I've been trying to +make you feel?" +</p><p> +"Yes," she answered patiently, "but so in the +wrong way. I'm perfectly honest in what I say, +and I know what I'm talking about. It isn't that I'll +pretend I could have believed a month ago in anything +to call aid or support from you. The case is +changed—that's what has happened; my difficulty's +a new one. But even now it's not a question of anything +I should ask you in a way to 'do.' It's simply +a question of your not turning me away—taking +yourself out of my life. It's simply a question of +your saying: 'Yes then, since you will, we'll stand +together. We won't worry in advance about how +or where; we'll have a faith and find a way.' That's +all—<i>that</i> would be the good you'd do me. I should +<i>have</i> you, and it would be for my benefit. Do you +see?" +</p><p> +If he didn't it was not for want of looking at +her hard. "The matter with you is that you're in +love, and that your aunt knows and—for reasons, +I'm sure, perfect—hates and opposes it. Well she +may! It's a matter in which I trust her with my +eyes shut. Go, please." Though he spoke not in +anger—rather in infinite sadness—he fairly turned +her out. Before she took it up he had, as the fullest +expression of what he felt, opened the door of the +room. He had fairly, in his deep disapproval, a +generous compassion to spare. "I'm sorry for her, +deluded woman, if she builds on you." +</p><p> +Kate stood a moment in the draught. "She's not +the person <i>I</i> pity most, for, deluded in many ways +though she may be, she's not the person who's most +so. I mean," she explained, "if it's a question of +what you call building on me." +</p><p> +He took it as if what she meant might be other +than her description of it. "You're deceiving <i>two</i> +persons then, Mrs. Lowder and somebody else?" +</p><p> +She shook her head with detachment. "I've no +intention of that sort with respect to any one now—to +Mrs. Lowder least of all. If you fail me"—she +seemed to make it out for herself—"that has the +merit at least that it simplifies. I shall go my way—as +I see my way." +</p><p> +"Your way, you mean then, will be to marry +some blackguard without a penny?" +</p><p> +"You ask a great deal of satisfaction," she observed, +"for the little you give." +</p><p> +It brought him up again before her as with a +sense that she was not to be hustled; and, though +he glared at her a little, this had long been the practical +limit to his general power of objection. "If +you're base enough to incur your aunt's disgust, +you're base enough for my argument. What, if +you're not thinking of an utterly improper person, +do your speeches to me signify? Who <i>is</i> the beggarly +sneak?" he demanded as her response failed. +Her response, when it came, was cold but distinct. +"He has every disposition to make the best +of you. He only wants in fact to be kind to you." +</p><p> +"Then he <i>must</i> be an ass! And how in the world +can you consider it to improve him for me," her +father pursued, "that he's also destitute and impossible? +There are asses and asses, even—the right +and the wrong—and you appear to have carefully +picked out one of the wrong. Your aunt knows +<i>them,</i> by good fortune; I perfectly trust, as I tell +you, her judgment for them; and you may take it +from me once for all that I won't hear of any one +of whom <i>she</i> won't." Which led up to his last word. +"If you should really defy us both——!" +</p><p> +"Well, papa?" +</p><p> +"Well, my sweet child, I think that—reduced to +insignificance as you may fondly believe me—I +should still not be quite without some way of making +you regret it." +</p><p> +She had a pause, a grave one, but not, as appeared, +that she might measure this danger. "If I shouldn't +do it, you know, it wouldn't be because I'm afraid +of you." +</p><p> +"Oh, if you don't do it," he retorted, "you may +be as bold as you like!" +</p><p> +"Then you can do nothing at all for me?" +</p><p> +He showed her, this time unmistakably—it was +before her there on the landing, at the top of the +tortuous stairs and in the midst of the strange smell +that seemed to cling to them—how vain her appeal +remained. "I've never pretended to do more +than my duty; I've given you the best and the clearest +advice." And then came up the spring that +moved him. "If it only displeases you, you can go +to Marian to be consoled." What he couldn't forgive +was her dividing with Marian her scant share +of the provision their mother had been able to leave +them. She should have divided it with <i>him.</i> +</p> +<br><br> +<h2 align="center">II</h2> +<br><br> +<p> +She had gone to Mrs. Lowder on her mother's +death—gone with an effort the strain and pain of +which made her at present, as she recalled them, +reflect on the long way she had travelled since then. +There had been nothing else to do—not a penny +in the other house, nothing but unpaid bills that had +gathered thick while its mistress lay mortally ill, +and the admonition that there was nothing she must +attempt to raise money on, since everything belonged +to the "estate." How the estate would turn +out at best presented itself as a mystery altogether +gruesome; it had proved, in fact, since then a residuum +a trifle less scant than, with Marian, she had for +some weeks feared; but the girl had had at the beginning +rather a wounded sense of its being watched +on behalf of Marian and her children. What on +earth was it supposed that <i>she</i> wanted to do to it? +She wanted in truth only to give up—to abandon her +own interest, which she, no doubt, would already +have done had not the point been subject to Aunt +Maud's sharp intervention. Aunt Maud's intervention +was all sharp now, and the other point, the +great one, was that it was to be, in this light, either +all put up with or all declined. Yet at the winter's +end, nevertheless, she could scarce have said what +stand she conceived she had taken. It wouldn't be +the first time she had seen herself obliged to accept +with smothered irony other people's interpretation +of her conduct. She often ended by giving up to +them—it seemed really the way to live—the version +that met their convenience. +</p><p> +The tall, rich, heavy house at Lancaster Gate, on +the other side of the Park and the long South Kensington +stretches, had figured to her, through childhood, +through girlhood, as the remotest limit of her +vague young world. It was further off and more +occasional than anything else in the comparatively +compact circle in which she revolved, and seemed, +by a rigour early marked, to be reached through +long, straight, discouraging vistas, which kept +lengthening and straightening, whereas almost +everything else in life was either, at the worst, round +about Cromwell Road, or, at the furthest, in the +nearer parts of Kensington Gardens. Mrs. Lowder +was her only "real" aunt, not the wife of an uncle, +and had been thereby, both in ancient days and when +the greater trouble came, the person, of all persons, +properly to make some sign; in accord with which +our young woman's feeling was founded on the impression, +quite cherished for years, that the signs +made across the interval just mentioned had never +been really in the note of the situation. The main +office of this relative, for the young Croys—apart +from giving them their fixed measure of social greatness—had +struck them as being to form them to a +conception of what they were not to expect. When +Kate came to think matters over with the aid of +knowledge, she failed quite to see how Aunt Maud +could have been different—she had rather perceived +by this time how many other things might have +been; yet she also made out that if they had all consciously +lived under a liability to the chill breath of +<i>ultima Thule</i> they couldn't, either, on the facts, very +well have done less. What in the event appeared +established was that if Mrs. Lowder had disliked +them she had yet not disliked them so much as they +supposed. It had at any rate been for the purpose +of showing how she struggled with her aversion +that she sometimes came to see them, that she at +regular periods invited them to her house, and in +short, as it now looked, kept them along on the +terms that would best give her sister the perennial +luxury of a grievance. This sister, poor Mrs. Croy, +the girl knew, had always judged her resentfully, +and had brought them up, Marian, the boys and +herself, to the idea of a particular attitude, for signs +of the practice of which they watched each other +with awe. The attitude was to make plain to Aunt +Maud, with the same regularity as her invitations, +that they sufficed—thanks awfully—to themselves. +But the ground of it, Kate lived to discern, was that +this was only because <i>she</i> didn't suffice to them. The +little she offered was to be accepted under protest, +yet not, really, because it was excessive. It wounded +them—there was the rub!—because it fell short. +</p><p> +The number of new things our young lady looked +out on from the high south window that hung over +the Park—this number was so great (though some +of the things were only old ones altered and, as +the phrase was of other matters, done up), that life +at present turned to her view from week to week +more and more the face of a striking and distinguished +stranger. She had reached a great age—for +it quite seemed to her that at twenty-five it was +late to reconsider; and her most general sense was +a shade of regret that she had not known earlier. +The world was different—whether for worse or for +better—from her rudimentary readings, and it gave +her the feeling of a wasted past. If she had only +known sooner she might have arranged herself more +to meet it. She made, at all events, discoveries +every day, some of which were about herself and +others about other persons. Two of these—one +under each head—more particularly engaged, in +alternation, her anxiety. She saw as she had never +seen before how material things spoke to her. She +saw, and she blushed to see, that if, in contrast with +some of its old aspects, life now affected her as a +dress successfully "done up," this was exactly by +reason of the trimmings and lace, was a matter of +ribbons and silk and velvet. She had a dire accessibility +to pleasure from such sources. She liked +the charming quarters her aunt had assigned her—liked +them literally more than she had in all her +other days liked anything; and nothing could have +been more uneasy than her suspicion of her relative's +view of this truth. Her relative was prodigious—she +had never done her relative justice. These +larger conditions all tasted of her, from morning +till night; but she was a person in respect to whom +the growth of acquaintance could only—strange as +it might seem—keep your heart in your mouth. +</p><p> +The girl's second great discovery was that, so +far from having been for Mrs. Lowder a subject of +superficial consideration, the blighted home in Lexham +Gardens had haunted her nights and her days. +Kate had spent, all winter, hours of observation that +were not less pointed for being spent alone; recent +events, which her mourning explained, assured her +a measure of isolation, and it was in the isolation +above all that her neighbour's influence worked. +Sitting far downstairs Aunt Maud was yet a presence +from which a sensitive niece could feel herself +extremely under pressure. She knew herself now, +the sensitive niece, as having been marked from far +back. She knew more than she could have told you, +by the upstairs fire, in a whole dark December afternoon. +She knew so much that her knowledge was +what fairly kept her there, making her at times +more endlessly between the small silk-covered sofa +that stood for her in the firelight and the great grey +map of Middlesex spread beneath her lookout. To +go down, to forsake her refuge, was to meet some +of her discoveries half-way, to have to face them +or fly before them; whereas they were at such a +height only like the rumble of a far-off siege heard +in the provisioned citadel. She had almost liked, +in these weeks, what had created her suspense and +her stress: the loss of her mother, the submersion +of her father, the discomfort of her sister, the confirmation +of their shrunken prospects, the certainty, +in especial, of her having to recognise that, should +she behave, as she called it, decently—that is still +do something for others—she would be herself +wholly without supplies. She held that she had a +right to sadness and stillness; she nursed them for +their postponing power. What they mainly postponed +was the question of a surrender—though she +could not yet have said exactly of what: a general +surrender of everything—that was at moments the +way it presented itself—to Aunt Maud's looming +"personality." It was by her personality that Aunt +Maud was prodigious, and the great mass of it +loomed because, in the thick, the foglike air of her +arranged existence, there were parts doubtless magnified +and parts certainly vague. They represented +at all events alike, the dim and the distinct, a strong +will and a high hand. It was perfectly present to +Kate that she might be devoured, and she likened +herself to a trembling kid, kept apart a day or two +till her turn should come, but sure sooner or later to +be introduced into the cage of the lioness. +</p><p> +The cage was Aunt Maud's own room, her office, +her counting-house, her battlefield, her especial +scene, in fine, of action, situated on the ground-floor, +opening from the main hall and figuring rather to +our young woman on exit and entrance as a guard +house or a toll-gate. The lioness waited—the kid +had at least that consciousness; was aware of the +neighbourhood of a morsel she had reason to suppose +tender. She would have been meanwhile a +wonderful lioness for a show, an extraordinary figure +in a cage or anywhere; majestic, magnificent, +high-coloured, all brilliant gloss, perpetual satin, +twinkling bugles and flashing gems, with a lustre +of agate eyes, a sheen of raven hair, a polish of +complexion that was like that of well-kept china +and that—as if the skin were too tight—told especially +at curves and corners. Her niece had a quiet +name for her—she kept it quiet; thinking of her, +with a free fancy, as somehow typically insular, she +talked to herself of Britannia of the Market Place—Britannia +unmistakable, but with a pen in her +ear, and felt she should not be happy till she might +on some occasion add to the rest of the panoply +a helmet, a shield, a trident and a ledger. It was +not in truth, however, that the forces with which, +as Kate felt, she would have to deal were those +most suggested by an image simple and broad; she +was learning, after all, each day, to know her companion, +and what she had already most perceived +was the mistake of trusting to easy analogies. +There was a whole side of Britannia, the side of +her florid philistinism, her plumes and her train, +her fantastic furniture and heaving bosom, the false +gods of her taste and false notes of her talk, the +sole contemplation of which would be dangerously +misleading. She was a complex and subtle Britannia, +as passionate as she was practical, with a reticule +for her prejudices as deep as that other pocket, +the pocket full of coins stamped in her image, that +the world best knew her by. She carried on, in +short, behind her aggressive and defensive front, +operations determined by her wisdom. It was in +fact, we have hinted, as a besieger that our young +lady, in the provisioned citadel, had for the present +most to think of her, and what made her formidable +in this character was that she was unscrupulous and +immoral. So, at all events, in silent sessions and +a youthful off-hand way, Kate conveniently pictured +her: what this sufficiently represented being that +her weight was in the scale of certain dangers—those +dangers that, by our showing, made the +younger woman linger and lurk above, while the +elder, below, both militant and diplomatic, covered +as much of the ground as possible. Yet what were +the dangers, after all, but just the dangers of life +and of London? Mrs. Lowder <i>was</i> London, <i>was</i> +life—the roar of the siege and the thick of the fray. +There were some things, after all, of which Britannia +was afraid; but Aunt Maud was afraid of nothing—not +even, it would appear, of arduous thought. +These impressions, none the less, Kate kept so +much to herself that she scarce shared them with +poor Marian, the ostensible purpose of her frequent +visits to whom yet continued to be to talk +over everything. One of her reasons for holding +off from the last concession to Aunt Maud was that +she might be the more free to commit herself to +this so much nearer and so much less fortunate +relative, with whom Aunt Maud would have, directly, +almost nothing to do. The sharpest pinch +of her state, meanwhile, was exactly that all intercourse +with her sister had the effect of casting +down her courage and tying her hands, adding daily +to her sense of the part, not always either uplifting +or sweetening, that the bond of blood might play +in one's life. She was face to face with it now, with +the bond of blood; the consciousness of it was +what she seemed most clearly to have "come into" +by the death of her mother, much of that consciousness +as her mother had absorbed and carried away. +Her haunting, harrassing father, her menacing, uncompromising +aunt, her portionless little nephews +and nieces, were figures that caused the chord of +natural piety superabundantly to vibrate. Her manner +of putting it to herself—but more especially +in respect to Marian—was that she saw what you +might be brought to by the cultivation of consanguinity. +She had taken, in the old days, as she +supposed, the measure of this liability; those being +the days when, as the second-born, she had thought +no one in the world so pretty as Marian, no one +so charming, so clever, so assured, in advance, of +happiness and success. The view was different +now, but her attitude had been obliged, for many +reasons, to show as the same. The subject of this +estimate was no longer pretty, as the reason for +thinking her clever was no longer plain; yet, bereaved, +disappointed, demoralised, querulous, she +was all the more sharply and insistently Kate's elder +and Kate's own. Kate's most constant feeling +about her was that she would make her, Kate, +do things; and always, in comfortless Chelsea, +at the door of the small house the small rent of +which she couldn't help having on her mind, she +fatalistically asked herself, before going in, which +thing it would probably be this time. She noticed +with profundity that disappointment made people +selfish; she marvelled at the serenity—it was the +poor woman's only one—of what Marian took for +granted: her own state of abasement as the second-born, +her life reduced to mere inexhaustible +sisterhood. She existed, in that view, wholly for +the small house in Chelsea; the moral of which +moreover, of course, was that the more one gave +oneself the less of one was left. There were always +people to snatch at one, and it would never occur +to <i>them</i> that they were eating one up. They did +that without tasting. +</p><p> +There was no such misfortune, or at any rate +no such discomfort, she further reasoned, as to be +formed at once for being and for seeing. You +always saw, in this case, something else than what +you were, and you got, in consequence, none of +the peace of your condition. However, as she +never really let Marian see what she was, Marian +might well not have been aware that she herself +saw. Kate was accordingly, to her own vision, +not a hypocrite of virtue, for she gave herself up; +but she was a hypocrite of stupidity, for she kept +to herself everything that was not herself. What +she most kept was the particular sentiment with +which she watched her sister instinctively neglect +nothing that would make for her submission to +their aunt; a state of the spirit that perhaps marked +most sharply how poor you might become when +you minded so much the absence of wealth. It was +through Kate that Aunt Maud should be worked, +and nothing mattered less than what might become +of Kate in the process. Kate was to burn her +ships, in short, so that Marian should profit; and +Marian's desire to profit was quite oblivious of a +dignity that had, after all, its reasons—if it had +only cared for them—for keeping itself a little stiff. +Kate, to be properly stiff for both of them, would +therefore have had to be selfish, have had to prefer +an ideal of behaviour—than which nothing, ever, +was more selfish—to the possibility of stray crumbs +for the four small creatures. The tale of Mrs. +Lowder's disgust at her elder niece's marriage to +Mr. Condrip had lost little of its point; the incredibly +fatuous behaviour of Mr. Condrip, the parson +of a dull suburban parish, with a saintly profile +which was always in evidence, being so distinctly on +record to keep criticism consistent. He had presented +his profile on system, having, goodness +knew, nothing else to present—nothing at all to +full-face the world with, no imagination of the propriety +of living and minding his business. Criticism +had remained on Aunt Maud's part consistent +enough; she was not a person to regard such proceedings +as less of a mistake for having acquired +more of the privilege of pathos. She had not been +forgiving, and the only approach she made to overlooking +them was by overlooking—with the surviving +delinquent—the solid little phalanx that now +represented them. Of the two sinister ceremonies +that she lumped together, the marriage and the interment, +she had been present at the former, just +as she had sent Marian, before it, a liberal cheque; +but this had not been for her more than the shadow +of an admitted link with Mrs. Condrip's course. +She disapproved of clamorous children for whom +there was no prospect; she disapproved of weeping +widows who couldn't make their errors good; +and she had thus put within Marian's reach one of +the few luxuries left when so much else had gone, +an easy pretext for a constant grievance. Kate +Croy remembered well what their mother, in a different +quarter, had made of it; and it was Marian's +marked failure to pluck the fruit of resentment that +committed them, as sisters, to an almost equal fellowship +in abjection. If the theory was that, yes, +alas, one of the pair had ceased to be noticed, but +that the other was noticed enough to make up for +it, who would fail to see that Kate couldn't separate +herself without a cruel pride? That lesson became +sharp for our young lady the day after her interview +with her father. +</p><p> +"I can't imagine," Marian on this occasion said +to her, "how you can think of anything else in +the world but the horrid way we're situated." +</p><p> +"And, pray, how do you know," Kate inquired +in reply, "anything about my thoughts? It seems +to me I give you sufficient proof of how much I +think of <i>you.</i> I don't, really, my dear, know what +else you've to do with!" +</p><p> +Marian's retort, on this, was a stroke as to which +she had supplied herself with several kinds of preparation, +but there was, none the less, something of +an unexpected note in its promptitude. She had +foreseen her sister's general fear; but here, ominously, +was the special one. "Well, your own business +is of course your own business, and you may +say there's no one less in a position than I to preach +to you. But, all the same, if you wash your hands +of me for ever for it, I won't, for this once, keep +back that I don't consider you've a right, as we all +stand, to throw yourself away." +</p><p> +It was after the children's dinner, which was also +their mother's, but which their aunt mostly contrived +to keep from ever becoming her own +luncheon; and the two young women were still in +the presence of the crumpled table-cloth, the dispersed +pinafores, the scraped dishes, the lingering +odour of boiled food. Kate had asked, with ceremony, +if she might put up a window a little, and +Mrs. Condrip had replied without it that she might +do as she liked. She often received such inquiries +as if they reflected in a manner on the pure essence +of her little ones. The four had retired, with much +movement and noise, under imperfect control of +the small Irish governess whom their aunt had +hunted out for them and whose brooding resolve +not to prolong so uncrowned a martyrdom she +already more than suspected. Their mother had +become for Kate—who took it just for the effect +of being their mother—quite a different thing from +the mild Marian of the past: Mr. Condrip's widow +expansively obscured that image. She was little +more than a ragged relic, a plain, prosaic result of +him, as if she had somehow been pulled through +him as through an obstinate funnel, only to be left +crumpled and useless and with nothing in her but +what he accounted for. She had grown red and +almost fat, which were not happy signs of mourning; +less and less like any Croy, particularly a Croy +in trouble, and sensibly like her husband's two unmarried +sisters, who came to see her, in Kate's +view, much too often and stayed too long, with the +consequence of inroads upon the tea and bread-and-butter—matters +as to which Kate, not unconcerned +with the tradesmen's books, had feelings. +About them, moreover, Marian <i>was</i> touchy, and +her nearer relative, who observed and weighed +things, noted as an oddity that she would have +taken any reflection on them as a reflection on herself. +If that was what marriage necessarily did to +you, Kate Croy would have questioned marriage. +It was a grave example, at any rate, of what a man—and +such a man!—might make of a woman. She +could see how the Condrip pair pressed their +brother's widow on the subject of Aunt Maud—who +wasn't, after all, <i>their</i> aunt; made her, over +their interminable cups, chatter and even swagger +about Lancaster Gate, made her more vulgar than +it had seemed written that any Croy could possibly +become on such a subject. They laid it down, they +rubbed it in, that Lancaster Gate was to be kept +in sight, and that she, Kate, was to keep it; so +that, curiously, or at all events sadly, our young +woman was sure of being, in her own person, more +permitted to them as an object of comment than +they would in turn ever be permitted to herself. +The beauty of which, too, was that Marian didn't +love them. But they were Condrips—they had +grown near the rose; they were almost like Bertie +and Maudie, like Kitty and Guy. They talked of +the dead to her, which Kate never did; it being a +relation in which Kate could but mutely listen. She +couldn't indeed too often say to herself that if that +was what marriage did to you——! It may easily +be guessed, therefore, that the ironic light of such +reserves fell straight across the field of Marian's +warning. "I don't quite see," she answered, +"where, in particular, it strikes you that my danger +lies. I'm not conscious, I assure you, of the least +'disposition' to throw myself anywhere. I feel +as if, for the present, I have been quite sufficiently +thrown." +</p><p> +"You don't feel"—Marian brought it all out—"as +if you would like to marry Merton Densher?" +</p><p> +Kate took a moment to meet this inquiry. "Is +it your idea that if I should feel so I would be +bound to give you notice, so that you might step +in and head me off? Is that your idea?" the girl +asked. Then, as her sister also had a pause, "I +don't know what makes you talk of Mr. Densher," +she observed. +</p><p> +"I talk of him just because you don't. That +you never do, in spite of what I know—that's what +makes me think of him. Or rather perhaps it's +what makes me think of <i>you.</i> If you don't know by +this time what I hope for you, what I dream of—my +attachment being what it is—it's no use my +attempting to tell you." But Marian had in fact +warmed to her work, and Kate was sure she had +discussed Mr. Densher with the Miss Condrips. +"If I name that person I suppose it's because I'm +so afraid of him. If you want really to know, he +fills me with terror. If you want really to know, +in fact, I dislike him as much as I dread him." +</p><p> +"And yet don't think it dangerous to abuse him +to me?" +</p><p> +"Yes," Mrs. Condrip confessed, "I do think it +dangerous; but how can I speak of him otherwise? +I dare say, I admit, that I shouldn't speak of him +at all. Only I do want you for once, as I said just +now, to know." +</p><p> +"To know what, my dear?" +</p><p> +"That I should regard it," Marian promptly returned, +"as far and away the worst thing that has +happened to us yet." +</p><p> +"Do you mean because he hasn't money?" +</p><p> +"Yes, for one thing. And because I don't believe +in him." +</p><p> +Kate was civil, but perfunctory. "What do you +mean by not believing in him?" +</p><p> +"Well, being sure he'll never get it. And you +<i>must</i> have it. You <i>shall</i> have it." +</p><p> +"To give it to you?" +</p><p> +Marian met her with a readiness that was practically +pert. "To <i>have</i> it, first. Not, at any +rate, to go on not having it. Then we should +see." +</p><p> +"We should indeed!" said Kate Croy. It was +talk of a kind she loathed, but if Marian chose to +be vulgar what was one to do? It made her think +of the Miss Condrips with renewed aversion. "I +like the way you arrange things—I like what you +take for granted. If it's so easy for us to marry +men who want us to scatter gold, I wonder we any +of us do anything else. I don't see so many of +them about, nor what interest I might ever have +for them. You live, my dear," she presently added, +"in a world of vain thoughts." +</p><p> +"Not so much as you, Kate; for I see what I +see, and you can't turn it off that way." The elder +sister paused long enough for the younger's face +to show, in spite of superiority, an apprehension. +"I'm not talking of any man but Aunt Maud's man, +nor of any money, even, if you like, but Aunt +Maud's money. I'm not talking of anything but +your doing what <i>she</i> wants. You're wrong if you +speak of anything that I want of you; I want nothing +but what she does. That's good enough for +me!"—and Marian's tone struck her companion as +dreadful. "If I don't believe in Merton Densher, +I do at least in Mrs. Lowder." +</p><p> +"Your ideas are the more striking," Kate returned, +"that they're the same as papa's. I had +them from him, you may be interested to know—and +with all the brilliancy you may imagine—yesterday." +</p><p> +Marian clearly was interested to know. "He has +been to see you?" +</p><p> +"No, I went to him." +</p><p> +"Really?" Marian wondered. "For what purpose?" +</p><p> +"To tell him I'm ready to go to him." +</p><p> +Marian stared. "To leave Aunt Maud——?" +</p><p> +"For my father, yes." +</p><p> +She had fairly flushed, poor Mrs. Condrip, with +horror. "You're ready——?" +</p><p> +"So I told him. I couldn't tell him less." +</p><p> +"And, pray, could you tell him more?" Marian +gasped in her distress. "What in the world is he +<i>to</i> us? You bring out such a thing as that this +way?" +</p><p> +They faced each other—the tears were in Marian's +eyes. Kate watched them there a moment and +then said: "I had thought it well over—over and +over. But you needn't feel injured. I'm not going. +He won't have me." +</p><p> +Her companion still panted—it took time to subside. +"Well, <i>I</i> wouldn't have you—wouldn't receive +you at all, I can assure you—if he had made +you any other answer. I do feel injured—at your +having been willing. If you were to go to papa, +my dear, you would have to stop coming to me." +Marian put it thus, indefinably, as a picture of privation +from which her companion might shrink. Such +were the threats she could complacently make, could +think herself masterful for making. "But if he +won't take you," she continued, "he shows at least +his sharpness." +</p><p> +Marian had always her views of sharpness; she +was, as her sister privately commented, great on +it. But Kate had her refuge from irritation. "He +won't take me," she simply repeated. "But he +believes, like you, in Aunt Maud. He threatens +me with his curse if I leave her." +</p><p> +"So you <i>won't?"</i> As the girl at first said nothing +her companion caught at it. "You won't, of +course? I see you won't. But I don't see why, +nevertheless, I shouldn't insist to you once for all +on the plain truth of the whole matter. The truth, +my dear, of your duty. Do you ever think about +<i>that?</i> It's the greatest duty of all." +</p><p> +"There you are again," Kate laughed. "Papa's +also immense on my duty." +</p><p> +"Oh, I don't pretend to be immense, but I pretend +to know more than you do of life; more even +perhaps than papa." Marian seemed to see that +personage at this moment, nevertheless, in the light +of a kinder irony. "Poor old papa!" +</p><p> +She sighed it with as many condonations as her +sister's ear had more than once caught in her "Dear +old Aunt Maud!" These were things that made +Kate, for the time, turn sharply away, and she gathered +herself now to go. They were the note again +of the abject; it was hard to say which of the persons +in question had most shown how little they +liked her. The younger woman proposed, at any +rate, to let discussion rest, and she believed that, +for herself, she had done so during the ten minutes +that, thanks to her wish not to break off short, +elapsed before she could gracefully withdraw. It +then appeared, however, that Marian had been discussing +still, and there was something that, at the +last, Kate had to take up. "Whom do you mean +by Aunt Maud's young man?" +</p><p> +"Whom should I mean but Lord Mark?" +</p><p> +"And where do you pick up such vulgar twaddle?" +Kate demanded with her clear face. "How +does such stuff, in this hole, get to you?" +</p><p> +She had no sooner spoken than she asked herself +what had become of the grace to which she +had sacrificed. Marian certainly did little to save +it, and nothing indeed was so inconsequent as her +ground of complaint. She desired her to "work" +Lancaster Gate as she believed that scene of abundance +could be worked; but she now didn't see +why advantage should be taken of the bloated connection +to put an affront on her own poor home. +She appeared in fact for the moment to take the +position that Kate kept her in her "hole" and +then heartlessly reflected on her being in it. Yet +she didn't explain how she had picked up the report +on which her sister had challenged her—so +that it was thus left to her sister to see in it, once +more, a sign of the creeping curiosity of the Miss +Condrips. They lived in a deeper hole than Marian, +but they kept their ear to the ground, they +spent their days in prowling, whereas Marian, in +garments and shoes that seemed steadily to grow +looser and larger, never prowled. There were times +when Kate wondered if the Miss Condrips were +offered her by fate as a warning for her own future—to +be taken as showing her what she herself +might become at forty if she let things too recklessly +go. What was expected of her by others—and +by so many of them—could, all the same, on +occasion, present itself as beyond a joke; and this +was just now the aspect it particularly wore. She +was not only to quarrel with Merton Densher to +oblige her five spectators—with the Miss Condrips +there were five; she was to set forth in pursuit of +Lord Mark on some preposterous theory of the +premium attached to success. Mrs. Lowder's hand +had attached it, and it figured at the end of the +course as a bell that would ring, break out into +public clamour, as soon as touched. Kate reflected +sharply enough on the weak points of this fond +fiction, with the result at last of a certain chill for +her sister's confidence; though Mrs. Condrip still +took refuge in the plea—which was after all the +great point—that their aunt would be munificent +when their aunt should be pleased. The exact identity +of her candidate was a detail; what was of the +essence was her conception of the kind of match it +was open to her niece to make with her aid. Marian +always spoke of marriages as "matches," but +that was again a detail. Mrs. Lowder's "aid" +meanwhile awaited them—if not to light the way +to Lord Mark, then to somebody better. Marian +would put up, in fine, with somebody better; she +only wouldn't put up with somebody so much +worse. Kate had, once more, to go through all +this before a graceful issue was reached. It was +reached by her paying with the sacrifice of Mr. +Densher for her reduction of Lord Mark to the +absurd. So they separated softly enough. She was +to be let off hearing about Lord Mark so long as +she made it good that she wasn't underhand about +anybody else. She had denied everything and +every one, she reflected as she went away—and that +was a relief; but it also made rather a clean sweep +of the future. The prospect put on a bareness that +already gave her something in common with the +Miss Condrips. +</p> +<br><br> +<h2 align="center">BOOK SECOND</h2> +<br> +<h2 align="center">III</h2> +<br><br> +<p> +Merton Densher, who passed the best +hours of each night at the office of his newspaper, +had at times, during the day, to make up for +it, a sense, or at least an appearance, of leisure, in +accordance with which he was not infrequently to +be met, in different parts of the town, at moments +when men of business are hidden from the public +eye. More than once, during the present winter's +end, he had deviated, toward three o'clock, or toward +four, into Kensington Gardens, where he might +for a while, on each occasion, have been observed +to demean himself as a person with nothing to do. +He made his way indeed, for the most part, with +a certain directness, over to the north side; but +once that ground was reached his behaviour was +noticeably wanting in point. He moved seemingly +at random from alley to alley; he stopped for no +reason and remained idly agaze; he sat down in +a chair and then changed to a bench; after which +he walked about again, only again to repeat both +the vagueness and the vivacity. Distinctly, he was +a man either with nothing at all to do or with ever +so much to think about; and it was not to be denied +that the impression he might often thus easily +make had the effect of causing the burden of proof, +in certain directions, to rest on him. It was a little +the fault of his aspect, his personal marks, which +made it almost impossible to name his profession. +</p><p> +He was a longish, leanish, fairish young Englishman, +not unamenable, on certain sides, to classification—as +for instance by being a gentleman, by +being rather specifically one of the educated, one +of the generally sound and generally pleasant; yet, +though to that degree neither extraordinary nor +abnormal, he would have failed to play straight into +an observer's hands. He was young for the House +of Commons, he was loose for the army. He was +refined, as might have been said, for the city, and, +quite apart from the cut of his cloth, he was sceptical, +it might have been felt, for the church. On +the other hand he was credulous for diplomacy, or +perhaps even for science, while he was perhaps at +the same time too much in his mere senses for +poetry, and yet too little in them for art. You +would have got fairly near him by making out in +his eyes the potential recognition of ideas; but you +would have quite fallen away again on the question +of the ideas themselves. The difficulty with Densher +was that he looked vague without looking +weak—idle without looking empty. It was the accident, +possibly, of his long legs, which were apt to +stretch themselves; of his straight hair and his well-shaped +head, never, the latter, neatly smooth, and +apt, into the bargain, at the time of quite other +calls upon it, to throw itself suddenly back and, +supported behind by his uplifted arms and interlocked +hands, place him for unconscionable periods +in communion with the ceiling, the tree-tops, the +sky. He was in short visibly absent-minded, irregularly +clever, liable to drop what was near and to +take up what was far; he was more a respecter, in +general, than a follower of custom. He suggested +above all, however, that wondrous state of youth +in which the elements, the metals more or less +precious, are so in fusion and fermentation that +the question of the final stamp, the pressure that +fixes the value, must wait for comparative coolness. +And it was a mark of his interesting mixture that +if he was irritable it was by a law of considerable +subtlety—a law that, in intercourse with him, it +might be of profit, though not easy, to master. +One of the effects of it was that he had for you +surprises of tolerance as well as of temper. +</p><p> +He loitered, on the best of the relenting days, +the several occasions we speak of, along the part +of the Gardens nearest to Lancaster Gate, and +when, always, in due time, Kate Croy came out of +her aunt's house, crossed the road and arrived by +the nearest entrance, there was a general publicity +in the proceeding which made it slightly anomalous. +If their meeting was to be bold and free it might +have taken place within doors; if it was to be shy +or secret it might have taken place almost anywhere +better than under Mrs. Lowder's windows. +They failed indeed to remain attached to that spot; +they wandered and strolled, taking in the course +of more than one of these interviews a considerable +walk, or else picked out a couple of chairs under +one of the great trees and sat as much apart—apart +from every one else—as possible. But Kate +had, each time, at first, the air of wishing to expose +herself to pursuit and capture if those things were +in question. She made the point that she was not +underhand, any more than she was vulgar; that the +Gardens were charming in themselves and this use +of them a matter of taste; and that, if her aunt +chose to glare at her from the drawing-room or to +cause her to be tracked and overtaken, she could at +least make it convenient that this should be easily +done. The fact was that the relation between these +young persons abounded in such oddities as were +not inaptly symbolised by assignations that had a +good deal more appearance than motive. Of the +strength of the tie that held them we shall sufficiently +take the measure; but it was meanwhile almost +obvious that if the great possibility had come +up for them it had done so, to an exceptional degree, +under the protection of the famous law of +contraries. Any deep harmony that might eventually +govern them would not be the result of their +having much in common—having anything, in fact, +but their affection; and would really find its explanation +in some sense, on the part of each, of +being poor where the other was rich. It is nothing +new indeed that generous young persons often admire +most what nature hasn't given them—from +which it would appear, after all, that our friends +were both generous. +</p><p> +Merton Densher had repeatedly said to himself—and +from far back—that he should be a fool not +to marry a woman whose value would be in her +differences; and Kate Croy, though without having +quite so philosophised, had quickly recognised +in the young man a precious unlikeness. He represented +what her life had never given her and certainly, +without some such aid as his, never would +give her; all the high, dim things she lumped together +as of the mind. It was on the side of the +mind that Densher was rich for her, and mysterious +and strong; and he had rendered her in especial +the sovereign service of making that element real. +She had had, all her days, to take it terribly on +trust; no creature she had ever encountered having +been able in any degree to testify for it directly. +Vague rumours of its existence had made their +precarious way to her; but nothing had, on the +whole, struck her as more likely than that she should +live and die without the chance to verify them. +The chance had come—it was an extraordinary one—on +the day she first met Densher; and it was to +the girl's lasting honour that she knew on the spot +what she was in the presence of. That occasion +indeed, for everything that straightway flowered in +it, would be worthy of high commemoration; +Densher's perception went out to meet the young +woman's and quite kept pace with her own recognition. +Having so often concluded on the fact of +his weakness, as he called it, for life—his strength +merely for thought—life, he logically opined, was +what he must somehow arrange to annex and possess. +This was so much a necessity that thought +by itself only went on in the void; it was from +the immediate air of life that it must draw its breath. +So the young man, ingenious but large, critical but +ardent too, made out both his case and Kate Croy's. +They had originally met before her mother's death—an +occasion marked for her as the last pleasure +permitted by the approach of that event; after +which the dark months had interposed a screen and, +for all Kate knew, made the end one with the beginning. +</p><p> +The beginning—to which she often went back—had +been a scene, for our young woman, of supreme +brilliancy; a party given at a "gallery" hired by a +hostess who fished with big nets. A Spanish +dancer, understood to be at that moment the delight +of the town, an American reciter, the joy of +a kindred people, an Hungarian fiddler, the wonder +of the world at large—in the name of these and +other attractions the company in which, by a rare +privilege, Kate found herself had been freely convoked. +She lived under her mother's roof, as she +considered, obscurely, and was acquainted with few +persons who entertained on that scale; but she had +had dealings with two or three connected, as appeared, +with such—two or three through whom +the stream of hospitality, filtered or diffused, could +thus now and then spread to outlying receptacles. +A good-natured lady in fine, a friend of her mother +and a relative of the lady of the gallery, had offered +to take her to the party in question and had there +fortified her, further, with two or three of those +introductions that, at large parties, lead to other +things—that had at any rate, on this occasion, culminated +for her in conversation with a tall, fair, +slightly unbrushed and rather awkward, but on the +whole not dreary, young man. The young man had +affected her as detached, as—it was indeed what +he called himself—awfully at sea, as much more distinct +from what surrounded them than any one +else appeared to be, and even as probably quite disposed +to be making his escape when pulled up to +be placed in relation with her. He gave her his +word for it indeed, that same evening, that only +their meeting had prevented his flight, but that now +he saw how sorry he should have been to miss it. +This point they had reached by midnight, and +though in respect to such remarks everything was +in the tone, the tone was by midnight there too. +She had had originally her full apprehension of his +coerced, certainly of his vague, condition—full apprehensions +often being with her immediate; then +she had had her equal consciousness that, within +five minutes, something between them had—well, +she couldn't call it anything but <i>come.</i> It was nothing, +but it was somehow everything—it was that +something for each of them had happened. +</p><p> +They had found themselves looking at each other +straight, and for a longer time on end than was +usual even at parties in galleries; but that, after all, +would have been a small affair, if there hadn't been +something else with it. It wasn't, in a word, simply +that their eyes had met; other conscious organs, +faculties, feelers had met as well, and when Kate +afterwards imaged to herself the sharp, deep fact +she saw it, in the oddest way, as a particular performance. +She had observed a ladder against a +garden wall, and had trusted herself so to climb +it as to be able to see over into the probable garden +on the other side. On reaching the top she had +found herself face to face with a gentleman engaged +in a like calculation at the same moment, and the +two inquirers had remained confronted on their +ladders. The great point was that for the rest of +that evening they had been perched—they had not +climbed down; and indeed, during the time that +followed, Kate at least had had the perched feeling—it +was as if she were there aloft without a retreat. +A simpler expression of all this is doubtless but +that they had taken each other in with interest; and +without a happy hazard six months later the incident +would have closed in that account of it. The +accident, meanwhile, had been as natural as anything +in London ever is: Kate had one afternoon +found herself opposite Mr. Densher on the Underground +Railway. She had entered the train at +Sloane Square to go to Queen's Road, and the carriage +in which she had found a place was all but +full. Densher was already in it—on the other +bench and at the furthest angle; she was sure of +him before they had again started. The day and +the hour were darkness, there were six other persons, +and she had been busy placing herself; but +her consciousness had gone to him as straight as +if they had come together in some bright level of +the desert. They had on neither part a second's +hesitation; they looked across the choked compartment +exactly as if she had known he would +be there and he had expected her to come in; so +that, though in the conditions they could only exchange +the greeting of movements, smiles, silence, +it would have been quite in the key of these passages +that they should have alighted for ease at the +very next station. Kate was in fact sure that the +very next station was the young man's true goal—which +made it clear that he was going on only +from the wish to speak to her. He had to go on, +for this purpose, to High Street, Kensington, as +it was not till then that the exit of a passenger gave +him his chance. +</p><p> +His chance put him, however, in quick possession +of the seat facing her, the alertness of his capture +of which seemed to show her his impatience. +It helped them, moreover, with strangers on either +side, little to talk; though this very restriction perhaps +made such a mark for them as nothing else +could have done. If the fact that their opportunity +had again come round for them could be so intensely +expressed between them without a word, +they might very well feel on the spot that it had +not come round for nothing. The extraordinary +part of the matter was that they were not in the +least meeting where they had left off, but ever so +much further on, and that these added links added +still another between High Street and Notting Hill +Gate, and then between the latter station and +Queen's Road an extension really inordinate. At +Notting Hill Gate, Kate's right-hand neighbour +descended, whereupon Densher popped straight +into that seat; only there was not much gained +when a lady, the next instant, popped into Densher's. +He could say almost nothing to her—she +scarce knew, at least, what he said; she was so occupied +with a certainty that one of the persons +opposite, a youngish man with a single eyeglass, +which he kept constantly in position, had made her +out from the first as visibly, as strangely affected. +If such a person made her out, what then did +Densher do?—a question in truth sufficiently answered +when, on their reaching her station, he instantly +followed her out of the train. That had +been the real beginning—the beginning of everything +else; the other time, the time at the party, +had been but the beginning of <i>that.</i> Never in life +before had she so let herself go; for always before—so +far as small adventures could have been in +question for her—there had been, by the vulgar +measure, more to go upon. He had walked +with her to Lancaster Gate, and then she had +walked with him away from it—for all the world, +she said to herself, like the housemaid giggling to +the baker. +</p><p> +This appearance, she was afterwards to feel, had +been all in order for a relation that might precisely +best be described in the terms of the baker and the +housemaid. She could say to herself that from that +hour they had kept company; that had come to +represent, technically speaking, alike the range and +the limit of their tie. He had on the spot, naturally, +asked leave to call upon her—which, as a young +person who wasn't really young, who didn't pretend +to be a sheltered flower, she as rationally gave. +That—she was promptly clear about it—was now +her only possible basis; she was just the contemporary +London female, highly modern, inevitably +battered, honourably free. She had of course taken +her aunt straight into her confidence—had gone +through the form of asking her leave; and she subsequently +remembered that though, on this occasion, +she had left the history of her new alliance as +scant as the facts themselves, Mrs. Lowder had +struck her at the time surprisingly mild. It had +been, in every way, the occasion, full of the reminder +that her hostess was deep: it was definitely +then that she had begun to ask herself what Aunt +Maud was, in vulgar parlance, "up to." "You +may receive, my dear, whom you like"—that was +what Aunt Maud, who in general objected to people's +doing as they liked, had replied; and it bore, +this unexpectedness, a good deal of looking into. +There were many explanations, and they were all +amusing—amusing, that is, in the line of the sombre +and brooding amusement, cultivated by Kate in +her actual high retreat. Merton Densher came the +very next Sunday; but Mrs. Lowder was so consistently +magnanimous as to make it possible to +her niece to see him alone. She saw him, however, +on the Sunday following, in order to invite him to +dinner; and when, after dining, he came again—which +he did three times, she found means to treat +his visit as preponderantly to herself. Kate's conviction +that she didn't like him made that remarkable; +it added to the evidence, by this time voluminous, +that she was remarkable all round. If she +had been, in the way of energy, merely usual, she +would have kept her dislike direct; whereas it was +now as if she were seeking to know him in order to +see best where to "have" him. That was one of +the reflections made in our young woman's high +retreat; she smiled from her lookout, in the silence +that was only the fact of hearing irrelevant sounds, +as she caught the truth that you could easily accept +people when you wanted them so to be delivered +to you. When Aunt Maud wished them despatched, +it was not to be done by deputy; it was +clearly always a matter reserved for her own hand. +But what made the girl wonder most was the +implications of so much diplomacy in respect to her +own value. What view might she take of her position +in the light of this appearance that her companion +feared so, as yet, to upset her? It was as +if Densher were accepted partly under the dread +that if he hadn't been she would act in resentment. +Hadn't her aunt considered the danger that she +would in that case have broken off, have seceded? +The danger was exaggerated—she would have done +nothing so gross; but that, it seemed, was the way +Mrs. Lowder saw her and believed her to be reckoned +with. What importance therefore did she +really attach to her, what strange interest could +she take on their keeping on terms? Her father and +her sister had their answer to this—even without +knowing how the question struck her; they saw +the lady of Lancaster Gate as panting to make her +fortune, and the explanation of that appetite was +that, on the accident of a nearer view than she had +before enjoyed, she had been charmed, been dazzled. +They approved, they admired in her one of the +belated fancies of rich, capricious, violent old women—the +more marked, moreover, because the result +of no plot; and they piled up the possible results +for the person concerned. Kate knew what to think +of her own power thus to carry by storm; she saw +herself as handsome, no doubt, but as hard, and +felt herself as clever but as cold; and as so much +too imperfectly ambitious, furthermore, that it was +a pity, for a quiet life, she couldn't settle to be +either finely or stupidly indifferent. Her intelligence +sometimes kept her still—too still—but her +want of it was restless; so that she got the good, +it seemed to her, of neither extreme. She saw herself +at present, none the less, in a situation, and +even her sad, disillusioned mother, dying, but with +Aunt Maud interviewing the nurse on the stairs, +had not failed to remind her that it was of the +essence of situations to be, under Providence, +worked. The dear woman had died in the belief +that she was actually working the one then produced. +</p><p> +Kate took one of her walks with Densher just +after her visit to Mr. Croy; but most of it went, as +usual, to their sitting in talk. They had, under the +trees, by the lake, the air of old friends—phases of +apparent earnestness, in particular, in which they +might have been settling every question in their vast +young world; and periods of silence, side by side, +perhaps even more, when "a long engagement!" +would have been the final reading of the signs on +the part of a passer struck with them, as it was so +easy to be. They would have presented themselves +thus as very old friends rather than as young persons +who had met for the first time but a year before +and had spent most of the interval without +contact. It was indeed for each, already, as if they +were older friends; and though the succession of +their meetings might, between them, have been +straightened out, they only had a confused sense +of a good many, very much alike, and a confused +intention of a good many more, as little different +as possible. The desire to keep them just as they +were had perhaps to do with the fact that in spite +of the presumed diagnosis of the stranger there had +been for them as yet no formal, no final understanding. +Densher had at the very first pressed the question, +but that, it had been easy to reply, was too +soon; so that a singular thing had afterwards happened. +They had accepted their acquaintance as +too short for an engagement, but they had treated +it as long enough for almost anything else, and +marriage was somehow before them like a temple +without an avenue. They belonged to the temple +and they met in the grounds; they were in the +stage at which grounds in general offered much +scattered refreshment. But Kate had meanwhile +had so few confidants that she wondered at the +source of her father's suspicions. The diffusion of +rumour was of course, in London, remarkable, and +for Marian not less—as Aunt Maud touched neither +directly—the mystery had worked. No doubt she +had been seen. Of course she had been seen. She +had taken no trouble not to be seen, and it was +a thing, clearly, she was incapable of taking. But +she had been seen how?—and <i>what</i> was there to see? +She was in love—she knew that: but it was wholly +her own business, and she had the sense of having +conducted herself, of still so doing, with almost +violent conformity. +</p><p> +"I've an idea—in fact I feel sure—that Aunt +Maud means to write to you; and I think you had +better know it." So much as this she said to him +as soon as they met, but immediately adding to it: +"So as to make up your mind how to take her. +I know pretty well what she'll say to you." +</p><p> +"Then will you kindly tell me?" +</p><p> +She thought a little. "I can't do that. I should +spoil it. She'll do the best for her own idea." +</p><p> +"Her idea, you mean, that I'm a sort of a +scoundrel; or, at the best, not good enough for +you?" +</p><p> +They were side by side again in their penny chairs, +and Kate had another pause. "Not good enough +for <i>her."</i> +</p><p> +"Oh, I see. And that's necessary." +</p><p> +He put it as a truth rather more than as a question; +but there had been plenty of truths between +them that each had contradicted. Kate, however, +let this one sufficiently pass, only saying the next +moment: "She has behaved extraordinarily." +</p><p> +"And so have we," Densher declared. "I think, +you know, we've been awfully decent." +</p><p> +"For ourselves, for each other, for people in +general, yes. But not for <i>her.</i> For her," said Kate, +"we've been monstrous. She has been giving us +rope. So if she does send for you," the girl repeated, +"you must know where you are." +</p><p> +"That I always know. It's where <i>you</i> are that +concerns me." +</p><p> +"Well," said Kate after an instant, "her idea of +that is what you'll have from her." He gave her +a long look, and whatever else people who wouldn't +let her alone might have wished, for her advancement, +his long looks were the thing in the world +she could never have enough of. What she felt was +that, whatever might happen, she must keep them, +must make them most completely her possession; +and it was already strange enough that she reasoned, +or at all events began to act, as if she might work +them in with other and alien things, privately cherish +them, and yet, as regards the rigour of it, pay +no price. She looked it well in the face, she took +it intensely home, that they were lovers; she rejoiced +to herself and, frankly, to him, in their wearing +of the name; but, distinguished creature that, +in her way, she was, she took a view of this character +that scarce squared with the conventional. The +character itself she insisted on as their right, taking +that so for granted that it didn't seem even bold; +but Densher, though he agreed with her, found +himself moved to wonder at her simplifications, her +values. Life might prove difficult—was evidently +going to; but meanwhile they had each other, and +that was everything. This was her reasoning, but +meanwhile, for <i>him,</i> each other was what they didn't +have, and it was just the point. Repeatedly, however, +it was a point that, in the face of strange and +special things, he judged it rather awkwardly gross +to urge. It was impossible to keep Mrs. Lowder +out of their scheme. She stood there too close to +it and too solidly; it had to open a gate, at a given +point, do what they would to take her in. And she +came in, always, while they sat together rather helplessly +watching her, as in a coach-in-four; she drove +round their prospect as the principal lady at the +circus drives round the ring, and she stopped the +coach in the middle to alight with majesty. It was +our young man's sense that she was magnificently +vulgar, but yet, quite, that this wasn't all. It wasn't +with her vulgarity that she felt his want of means, +though that might have helped her richly to embroider +it; nor was it with the same infirmity that +she was strong, original, dangerous. +</p><p> +His want of means—of means sufficient for anyone +but himself—was really the great ugliness, and +was, moreover, at no time more ugly for him than +when it rose there, as it did seem to rise, shameless, +face to face with the elements in Kate's life +colloquially and conveniently classed by both of +them as funny. He sometimes indeed, for that matter, +asked himself if these elements were as funny +as the innermost fact, so often vivid to him, of his +own consciousness—his private inability to believe +he should ever be rich. His conviction on this head +was in truth quite positive and a thing by itself; he +failed, after analysis, to understand it, though he +had naturally more lights on it than any one else. +He knew how it subsisted in spite of an equal consciousness +of his being neither mentally nor physically +quite helpless, neither a dunce nor a cripple; +he knew it to be absolute, though secret, and also, +strange to say, about common undertakings, not +discouraging, not prohibitive. Only now was he +having to think if it were prohibitive in respect to +marriage; only now, for the first time, had he to +weigh his case in scales. The scales, as he sat with +Kate, often dangled in the line of his vision; he +saw them, large and black, while he talked or listened, +take, in the bright air, singular positions. +Sometimes the right was down and sometimes the +left; never a happy equipoise—one or the other +always kicking the beam. Thus was kept before +him the question of whether it were more ignoble +to ask a woman to take her chance with you, or to +accept it from one's conscience that her chance +could be at the best but one of the degrees of privation; +whether, too, otherwise, marrying for money +mightn't after all be a smaller cause of shame than +the mere dread of marrying without. Through +these variations of mood and view, all the same, the +mark on his forehead stood clear; he saw himself +remain without whether he married or not. It was +a line on which his fancy could be admirably active; +the innumerable ways of making money were beautifully +present to him; he could have handled them, +for his newspaper, as easily as he handled everything. +He was quite aware how he handled everything; +it was another mark on his forehead; the +pair of smudges from the thumb of fortune, the +brand on the passive fleece, dated from the primal +hour and kept each other company. He wrote, as +for print, with deplorable ease; since there had been +nothing to stop him even at the age of ten, so +there was as little at twenty; it was part of his fate +in the first place and part of the wretched public's +in the second. The innumerable ways of making +money were, no doubt, at all events, what his imagination +often was busy with after he had tilted +his chair and thrown back his head with his hands +clasped behind it. What would most have prolonged +that attitude, moreover, was the reflection +that the ways were ways only for others. Within +the minute, now—however this might be—he was +aware of a nearer view than he had yet quite had +of those circumstances on his companion's part that +made least for simplicity of relation. He saw above +all how she saw them herself, for she spoke of them +at present with the last frankness, telling him of her +visit to her father and giving him, in an account of +her subsequent scene with her sister, an instance of +how she was perpetually reduced to patching up, in +one way or another, that unfortunate woman's +hopes. +</p><p> +"The tune," she exclaimed, "to which we're a +failure as a family!" With which he had it again +all from her—and this time, as it seemed to him, +more than all: the dishonour her father had brought +them, his folly and cruelty and wickedness; the +wounded state of her mother, abandoned, despoiled +and helpless, yet, for the management of such a +home as remained to them, dreadfully unreasonable +too; the extinction of her two young brothers—one, +at nineteen, the eldest of the house, by typhoid +fever, contracted at a poisonous little place, as they +had afterwards found out, that they had taken for +a summer; the other, the flower of the flock, a +middy on the <i>Britannia,</i> dreadfully drowned, and +not even by an accident at sea, but by cramp, unrescued, +while bathing, too late in the autumn, in +a wretched little river during a holiday visit to the +home of a shipmate. Then Marian's unnatural marriage, +in itself a kind of spiritless turning of the +other cheek to fortune: her actual wretchedness +and plaintiveness, her greasy children, her impossible +claims, her odious visitors—these things completed +the proof of the heaviness, for them all, of the +hand of fate. Kate confessedly described them with +an excess of impatience; it was much of her charm +for Densher that she gave in general that turn to +her descriptions, partly as if to amuse him by free +and humorous colour, partly—and that charm was +the greatest—as if to work off, for her own relief, +her constant perception of the incongruity of things. +She had seen the general show too early and too +sharply, and she was so intelligent that she knew it +and allowed for that misfortune; therefore when, +in talk with him, she was violent and almost unfeminine, +it was almost as if they had settled, for +intercourse, on the short cut of the fantastic and +the happy language of exaggeration. It had come +to be definite between them at a primary stage that, +if they could have no other straight way, the realm +of thought at least was open to them. They could +think whatever they liked about whatever they +would—or, in other words, they could say it. Saying +it for each other, for each other alone, only +of course added to the taste. The implication was +thereby constant that what they said when not together +had no taste for them at all, and nothing +could have served more to launch them, at special +hours, on their small floating island than such an +assumption that they were only making believe +everywhere else. Our young man, it must be added, +was conscious enough that it was Kate who profited +most by this particular play of the fact of intimacy. +It always seemed to him that she had more life +than he to react from, and when she recounted the +dark disasters of her house and glanced at the hard, +odd offset of her present exaltation—since as exaltation +it was apparently to be considered—he felt +his own grey domestic annals to make little show. +It was naturally, in all such reference, the question +of her father's character that engaged him most, +but her picture of her adventure in Chirk Street +gave him a sense of how little as yet that character +was clear to him. What was it, to speak plainly, that +Mr. Croy had originally done? +</p><p> +"I don't know—and I don't want to. I only +know that years and years ago—when I was about +fifteen—something or other happened that made +him impossible. I mean impossible for the world at +large first, and then, little by little, for mother. We +of course didn't know it at the time," Kate explained, +"but we knew it later; and it was, oddly +enough, my sister who first made out that he had +done something. I can hear her now—the way, +one cold, black Sunday morning when, on account +of an extraordinary fog, we had not gone to church, +she broke it to me by the school-room fire. I was +reading a history-book by the lamp—when we +didn't go to church we had to read history-books—and +I suddenly heard her say, out of the fog, which +was in the room, and <i>apropos</i> of nothing: 'Papa +has done something wicked.' And the curious thing +was that I believed it on the spot and have believed +it ever since, though she could tell me nothing +more—neither what was the wickedness, nor how +she knew, nor what would happen to him, nor anything +else about it. We had our sense, always, that +all sorts of things <i>had</i> happened, were all the while +happening, to him; so that when Marian only said +she was sure, tremendously sure, that she had made +it out for herself, but that that was enough, I took +her word for it—it seemed somehow so natural. +We were not, however, to ask mother—which made +it more natural still, and I said never a word. But +mother, strangely enough, spoke of it to me, in +time, of her own accord very much later on. He +hadn't been with us for ever so long, but we were +used to that. She must have had some fear, some +conviction that I had an idea, some idea of her own +that it was the best thing to do. She came out as +abruptly as Marian had done: 'If you hear anything +against your father—anything I mean, except that +he's odious and vile—remember it's perfectly false.' +That was the way I knew—it was true, though I +recall that I said to her then that I of course knew +it wasn't. She might have told me it was true, and +yet have trusted me to contradict fiercely enough +any accusation of him that I should meet—to contradict +it much more fiercely and effectively, I think, +than she would have done herself. As it happens, +however," the girl went on, "I've never had occasion, +and I've been conscious of it with a sort of surprise. +It has made the world, at times, seem more +decent. No one has so much as breathed to me. +That has been a part of the silence, the silence that +surrounds him, the silence that, for the world, has +washed him out. He doesn't exist for people. +And yet I'm as sure as ever. In fact, though I know +no more than I did then, I'm more sure. And that," +she wound up, "is what I sit here and tell you about +my own father. If you don't call it a proof of confidence +I don't know what will satisfy you." +</p><p> +"It satisfies me beautifully," Densher declared, +"but it doesn't, my dear child, very greatly enlighten +me. You don't, you know, really tell me +anything. It's so vague that what am I to think +but that you may very well be mistaken? What +has he done, if no one can name it?" +</p><p> +"He has done everything." +</p><p> +"Oh—everything! Everything's nothing." +</p><p> +"Well then," said Kate, "he has done some particular +thing. It's known—only, thank God, not +to us. But it has been the end of him. You could +doubtless find out with a little trouble. You can +ask about." +</p><p> +Densher for a moment said nothing; but the +next moment he made it up. "I wouldn't find out +for the world, and I'd rather lose my tongue than +put a question." +</p><p> +"And yet it's a part of me," said Kate. +</p><p> +"A part of you?" +</p><p> +"My father's dishonour." Then she sounded +for him, but more deeply than ever yet, her note +of proud, still pessimism. "How can such a thing +as that not be the great thing in one's life?" +</p><p> +She had to take from him again, on this, one of +his long looks, and she took it to its deepest, its +headiest dregs. "I shall ask you, for the great +thing in your life," he said, "to depend on <i>me</i> a little +more." After which, just hesitating, "Doesn't he +belong to some club?" he inquired. +</p><p> +She had a grave headshake. "He used to—to +many." +</p><p> +"But he has dropped them?" +</p><p> +"They've dropped <i>him.</i> Of that I'm sure. It +ought to do for you. I offered him," the girl immediately +continued—"and it was for that I went +to him—to come and be with him, make a home +for him so far as is possible. But he won't hear +of it." +</p><p> +Densher took this in with visible, but generous, +wonder. "You offered him—'impossible' as you +describe him to me—to live with him and share +his disadvantages?" The young man saw for the +moment but the high beauty of it. "You <i>are</i> gallant!" +</p><p> +"Because it strikes you as being brave for him?" +She wouldn't in the least have this. "It wasn't +courage—it was the opposite. I did it to save myself—to +escape." +</p><p> +He had his air, so constant at this stage, as of her +giving him finer things than any one to think about. +"Escape from what?" +</p><p> +"From everything." +</p><p> +"Do you by any chance mean from me?" +</p><p> +"No; I spoke to him of you, told him—or what +amounted to it—that I would bring you, if he +would allow it, with me." +</p><p> +"But he won't allow it," said Densher. +</p><p> +"Won't hear of it on any terms. He won't help +me, won't save me, won't hold out a finger to me," +Kate went on; "he simply wriggles away, in his +inimitable manner, and throws me back." +</p><p> +"Back then, after all, thank goodness," Densher +concurred, "on me." +</p><p> +But she spoke again as with the sole vision of +the whole scene she had evoked. "It's a pity, because +you'd like him. He's wonderful—he's charming." +Her companion gave one of the laughs that +marked in him, again, his feeling in her tone, inveterately, +something that banished the talk of +other women, so far as he knew other women, to +the dull desert of the conventional, and she had already +continued. "He would make himself delightful +to you." +</p><p> +"Even while objecting to me?" +</p><p> +"Well, he likes to please," the girl explained—"personally. +He would appreciate you and be +clever with you. It's to <i>me</i> he objects—that is as to +my liking you." +</p><p> +"Heaven be praised then," Densher exclaimed, +"that you like me enough for the objection!" +</p><p> +But she met it after an instant with some inconsequence. +"I don't. I offered to give you up, if +necessary, to go to him. But it made no difference, +and that's what I mean," she pursued, "by his declining +me on any terms. The point is, you see, that +I don't escape." +</p><p> +Densher wondered. "But if you didn't wish to +escape <i>me?"</i> +</p><p> +"I wished to escape Aunt Maud. But he insists +that it's through her and through her only that I +may help him; just as Marian insists that it's +through her, and through her only, that I can help +<i>her.</i> That's what I mean," she again explained, "by +their turning me back." +</p><p> +The young man thought. "Your sister turns you +back too?" +</p><p> +"Oh, with a push!" +</p><p> +"But have you offered to live with your sister?" +</p><p> +"I would in a moment if she'd have me. That's +all my virtue—a narrow little family feeling. I've +a small stupid piety—I don't know what to call +it." Kate bravely sustained it; she made it out. +"Sometimes, alone, I've to smother my shrieks +when I think of my poor mother. She went through +things—they pulled her down; I know what they +were now—I didn't then, for I was a pig; and my +position, compared with hers, is an insolence of success. +That's what Marian keeps before me; that's +what papa himself, as I say, so inimitably does. My +position's a value, a great value, for them both"—she +followed and followed. Lucid and ironic, she +knew no merciful muddle. "It's <i>the</i> value—the only +one they have." +</p><p> +Everything between our young couple moved today, +in spite of their pauses, their margin, to a +quicker measure—the quickness and anxiety playing +lightning-like in the sultriness. Densher +watched, decidedly, as he had never done before. +"And the fact you speak of holds you!" +</p><p> +"Of course, it holds me. It's a perpetual sound +in my ears. It makes me ask myself if I've any +right to personal happiness, any right to anything +but to be as rich and overflowing, as smart and +shining, as I can be made." +</p><p> +Densher had a pause. "Oh, you might, with +good luck, have the personal happiness too." +</p><p> +Her immediate answer to this was a silence like +his own; after which she gave him straight in the +face, but quite simply and quietly: "Darling!" +</p><p> +It took him another moment; then he was also +quiet and simple. "Will you settle it by our being +married to-morrow—as we can, with perfect ease, +civilly?" +</p><p> +"Let us wait to arrange it," Kate presently replied, +"till after you've seen her." +</p><p> +"Do you call that adoring me?" Densher demanded. +</p><p> +They were talking, for the time, with the strangest +mixture of deliberation and directness, and +nothing could have been more in the tone of it +than the way she at last said: "You're afraid of +her yourself." +</p><p> +He gave a smile a trifle glassy. "For young persons +of a great distinction and a very high spirit, +we're a caution!" +</p><p> +"Yes," she took it straight up; "we're hideously +intelligent. But there's fun in it too. We +must get our fun where we can. I think," she +added, and for that matter, not without courage, +"our relation's beautiful. It's not a bit vulgar. I +cling to some saving romance in things." +</p><p> +It made him break into a laugh which had more +freedom than his smile. "How you must be afraid +you'll chuck me!" +</p><p> +"No, no, <i>that</i> would be vulgar. But, of course, +I do see my danger," she admitted, "of doing something +base." +</p><p> +"Then what can be so base as sacrificing me?" +</p><p> +"I <i>shan't</i> sacrifice you; don't cry out till you're +hurt. I shall sacrifice nobody and nothing, and +that's just my situation, that I want and that I shall +try for everything. That," she wound up, "is how +I see myself, and how I see you quite as much, acting +for them." +</p><p> +"For 'them'?" and the young man strongly, extravagantly +marked his coldness. "Thank you!" +</p><p> +"Don't you care for them?" +</p><p> +"Why should I? What are they to me but a +serious nuisance?" +</p><p> +As soon as he had permitted himself this qualification +of the unfortunate persons she so perversely +cherished, he repented of his roughness—and partly +because he expected a flash from her. But it was +one of her finest sides that she sometimes flashed +with a mere mild glow. "I don't see why you +don't make out a little more that if we avoid stupidity +we may do <i>all.</i> We may keep her." +</p><p> +He stared. "Make her pension us?" +</p><p> +"Well, wait at least till we have seen." +</p><p> +He thought. "Seen what can be got out of +her?" +</p><p> +Kate for a moment said nothing. "After all I +never asked her; never, when our troubles were +at the worst, appealed to her nor went near her. +She fixed upon me herself, settled on me with her +wonderful gilded claws." +</p><p> +"You speak," Densher observed, "as if she were +a vulture." +</p><p> +"Call it an eagle—with a gilded beak as well, and +with wings for great flights. If she's a thing of +the air, in short—say at once a balloon—I never +myself got into her car. I was her choice." +</p><p> +It had really, her sketch of the affair, a high colour +and a great style; at all of which he gazed a +minute as at a picture by a master. "What she +must see in you!" +</p><p> +"Wonders!" And, speaking it loud, she stood +straight up. "Everything. There it is." +</p><p> +Yes, there it was, and as she remained before +him he continued to face it. "So that what you +mean is that I'm to do my part in somehow squaring +her?" +</p><p> +"See her, see her," Kate said with impatience. +</p><p> +"And grovel to her?" +</p><p> +"Ah, do what you like!" And she walked in +her impatience away. +</p> +<br><br> +<h2 align="center">IV</h2> +<br><br> +<p> +His eyes had followed her at this time quite long +enough, before he overtook her, to make out more +than ever, in the poise of her head, the pride of her +step—he didn't know what best to call it—a part, +at least, of Mrs. Lowder's reasons. He consciously +winced while he figured his presenting himself as +a reason opposed to these; though, at the same +moment, with the source of Aunt Maud's inspiration +thus before him, he was prepared to conform, +by almost any abject attitude or profitable compromise, +to his companion's easy injunction. He +would do as <i>she</i> liked—his own liking might come +off as it would. He would help her to the utmost +of his power; for, all the rest of that day and the +next, her easy injunction, tossed off that way as +she turned her beautiful back, was like the crack +of a great whip in the blue air, the high element in +which Mrs. Lowder hung. He wouldn't grovel +perhaps—he wasn't quite ready for that; but he +would be patient, ridiculous, reasonable, unreasonable, +and above all deeply diplomatic. He would +be clever, with all his cleverness—which he now +shook hard, as he sometimes shook his poor, dear, +shabby, old watch, to start it up again. It wasn't, +thank goodness, as if there weren't plenty of that, +and with what they could muster between them it +would be little to the credit of their star, however +pale, that defeat and surrender—surrender so early, +so immediate—should have to ensue. It was not +indeed that he thought of that disaster as, at the +worst, a direct sacrifice of their possibilities: he imaged—it +which was enough as some proved vanity, +some exposed fatuity, in the idea of bringing +Mrs. Lowder round. When, shortly afterwards, in +this lady's vast drawing-room—the apartments at +Lancaster Gate had struck him from the first as of +prodigious extent—he awaited her, at her request, +conveyed in a "reply-paid" telegram, his theory +was that of their still clinging to their idea, though +with a sense of the difficulty of it really enlarged to +the scale of the place. +</p><p> +He had the place for a long time—it seemed to +him a quarter of an hour—to himself; and while +Aunt Maud kept him and kept him, while observation +and reflection crowded on him, he asked himself +what was to be expected of a person who could +treat one like that. The visit, the hour were of +her own proposing, so that her delay, no doubt, +was but part of a general plan of putting him to +inconvenience. As he walked to and fro, however, +taking in the message of her massive, florid furniture, +the immense expression of her signs and symbols, +he had as little doubt of the inconvenience he +was prepared to suffer. He found himself even facing +the thought that he had nothing to fall back +on, and that that was as great a humiliation in a +good cause as a proud man could desire. It had +not yet been so distinct to him that he made no +show—literally not the smallest; so complete a +show seemed made there all about him; so almost +abnormally affirmative, so aggressively erect, were +the huge, heavy objects that syllabled his hostess +story. "When all's said and done, you know, she's +colossally vulgar"—he had once all but said that +of Mrs. Lowder to her niece; only just keeping it +back at the last, keeping it to himself with all its +danger about it. It mattered because it bore so +directly, and he at all events quite felt it a thing that +Kate herself would some day bring out to him. It +bore directly at present, and really all the more that +somehow, strangely, it didn't in the least imply that +Aunt Maud was dull or stale. She was vulgar with +freshness, almost with beauty, since there was +beauty, to a degree, in the play of so big and bold +a temperament. She was in fine quite the largest +possible quantity to deal with; and he was in the +cage of the lioness without his whip—the whip, in a +word, of a supply of proper retorts. He had no +retort but that he loved the girl—which in such a +house as that was painfully cheap. Kate had mentioned +to him more than once that her aunt was +Passionate, speaking of it as a kind of offset and +uttering it as with a capital P, marking it as something +that he might, that he in fact ought to, turn +about in some way to their advantage. He wondered +at this hour to what advantage he could turn +it; but the case grew less simple the longer he +waited. Decidedly there was something he hadn't +enough of. He stood as one fast. +</p><p> +His slow march to and fro seemed to give him +the very measure; as he paced and paced the distance +it became the desert of his poverty; at the +sight of which expanse moreover he could pretend +to himself as little as before that the desert looked +redeemable. Lancaster Gate looked rich—that was +all the effect; which it was unthinkable that any +state of his own should ever remotely resemble. He +read more vividly, more critically, as has been +hinted, the appearances about him; and they did +nothing so much as make him wonder at his aesthetic +reaction. He hadn't known—and in spite +of Kate's repeated reference to her own rebellions +of taste—that he should "mind" so much how an +independent lady might decorate her house. It was +the language of the house itself that spoke to him, +writing out for him, with surpassing breadth and +freedom, the associations and conceptions, the +ideals and possibilities of the mistress. Never, he +flattered himself, had he seen anything so gregariously +ugly—operatively, ominously so cruel. He +was glad to have found this last name for the whole +character; "cruel" somehow played into the subject +for an article—that his impression put straight +into his mind. He would write about the heavy +horrors that could still flourish, that lifted their +undiminished heads, in an age so proud of its short +way with false gods; and it would be funny if what +he should have got from Mrs. Lowder were to +prove, after all, but a small amount of copy. Yet +the great thing, really the dark thing, was that, even +while he thought of the quick column he might +add up, he felt it less easy to laugh at the heavy +horrors than to quail before them. He couldn't +describe and dismiss them collectively, call them +either Mid-Victorian or Early; not being at all sure +they were rangeable under one rubric. It was only +manifest they were splendid and were furthermore +conclusively British. They constituted an order and +they abounded in rare material—precious woods, +metals, stuffs, stones. He had never dreamed of +anything so fringed and scalloped, so buttoned and +corded, drawn everywhere so tight, and curled +everywhere so thick. He had never dreamed of so +much gilt and glass, so much satin and plush, so +much rosewood and marble and malachite. But it +was, above all, the solid forms, the wasted finish, +the misguided cost, the general attestation of morality +and money, a good conscience and a big balance. +These things finally represented for him a +portentous negation of his own world of thought—of +which, for that matter, in the presence of them, +he became as for the first time hopelessly aware. +They revealed it to him by their merciless difference. +His interview with Aunt Maud, none the less, +took by no means the turn he had expected. Passionate +though her nature, no doubt Mrs. Lowder, +on this occasion, neither threatened nor appealed. +Her arms of aggression, her weapons of defence, +were presumably close at hand, but she left them +untouched and unmentioned, and was in fact so +bland that he properly perceived only afterwards +how adroit she had been. He properly perceived +something else as well, which complicated his case; +he shouldn't have known what to call it if he hadn't +called it her really imprudent good-nature. Her +blandness, in other words, was not mere policy—he +wasn't dangerous enough for policy; it was the result, +he could see, of her fairly liking him a little. +From the moment she did that she herself became +more interesting; and who knew what might happen +should he take to liking <i>her?</i> Well, it was a +risk he naturally must face. She fought him, at +any rate, but with one hand, with a few loose grains +of stray powder. He recognised at the end of ten +minutes, and even without her explaining it, that +if she had made him wait it had not been to wound +him; they had by that time almost directly met +on the fact of her intention. She had wanted him +to think for himself of what she proposed to say +to him—not having otherwise announced it; +wanted to let it come home to him on the spot, as +she had shrewdly believed it would. Her first question, +on appearing, had practically been as to +whether he hadn't taken her hint, and this inquiry +assumed so many things that it made discussion, immediately, +frank and large. He knew, with the +question put, that the hint was just what he <i>had</i> +taken; knew that she had made him quickly forgive +her the display of her power; knew that if he didn't +take care he should understand her, and the +strength of her purpose, to say nothing of that of +her imagination, nothing of the length of her purse, +only too well. Yet he pulled himself up with the +thought, too, that he was not going to be afraid of +understanding her; he was just going to understand +and understand without detriment to the feeblest, +even, of his passions. The play of one's mind let +one in, at the best, dreadfully, in action, in the need +of action, where simplicity was all; but when one +couldn't prevent it the thing was to make it complete. +There would never be mistakes but for the +original fun of mistakes. What he must use his +fatal intelligence for was to resist. Mrs. Lowder, +meanwhile, might use it for whatever she liked. +</p><p> +It was after she had begun her statement of her +own idea about Kate that he began, on his side, to +reflect that—with her manner of offering it as really +sufficient if he would take the trouble to embrace—it +she couldn't half hate him. That was all, positively, +she seemed to show herself for the time as +attempting; clearly, if she did her intention justice, +she would have nothing more disagreeable to +do. "If I hadn't been ready to go very much +further, you understand, I wouldn't have gone so +far. I don't care what you repeat to her—the more +you repeat to her, perhaps the better; and, at any +rate, there's nothing she doesn't already know. I +don't say it for her; I say it for you—when I want +to reach my niece I know how to do it straight." +So Aunt Maud delivered herself—as with homely +benevolence, in the simplest, but the clearest terms; +virtually conveying that, though a word to the wise +was, doubtless, in spite of the advantage, <i>not</i> always +enough, a word to the good could never fail to be. +The sense our young man read into her words was +that she liked him because he was good—was really, +by her measure, good enough: good enough, that +is, to give up her niece for her and go his way in +peace. But <i>was</i> he good enough—by his own +measure? He fairly wondered, while she more fully +expressed herself, if it might be his doom to prove +so. "She's the finest possible creature—of course +you flatter yourself that you know it. But I know +it, quite as well as you possibly can—by which I +mean a good deal better yet; and the tune to which +I'm ready to prove my faith compares favourably +enough, I think, with anything <i>you</i> can do. I don't +say it because she's my niece—that's nothing to me: +I might have had fifty nieces, and I wouldn't have +brought one of them to this place if I hadn't found +her to my taste. I don't say I wouldn't have done +something else, but I wouldn't have put up with +her presence. Kate's presence, by good fortune, +I marked early; Kate's presence—unluckily for <i>you</i>—is +everything I could possibly wish; Kate's presence +is, in short, as fine as you know, and I've been +keeping it for the comfort of my declining years. +I've watched it long; I've been saving it up and +letting it, as you say of investments, appreciate, and +you may judge whether, now it has begun to pay +so, I'm likely to consent to treat for it with any +but a high bidder. I can do the best with her, and +I've my idea of the best." +</p><p> +"Oh, I quite conceive," said Densher, "that your +idea of the best isn't me." +</p><p> +It was an oddity of Mrs. Lowder's that her face +in speech was like a lighted window at night, but +that silence immediately drew the curtain. The +occasion for reply allowed by her silence was never +easy to take; yet she was still less easy to interrupt. +The great glaze of her surface, at all events, +gave her visitor no present help. "I didn't ask +you to come to hear what it isn't—I asked you to +come to hear what it is." +</p><p> +"Of course," Densher laughed, "it's very great +indeed." +</p><p> +His hostess went on as if his contribution to the +subject were barely relevant. "I want to see her +high, high up—high up and in the light." +</p><p> +"Ah, you naturally want to marry her to a duke, +and are eager to smooth away any hitch." +</p><p> +She gave him so, on this, the mere effect of the +drawn blind that it quite forced him, at first, into the +sense, possibly just, of having affected her as flippant, +perhaps even as low. He had been looked +at so, in blighted moments of presumptuous youth, +by big cold public men, but never, so far as he +could recall, by any private lady. More than anything +yet it gave him the measure of his companion's +subtlety, and thereby of Kate's possible career. +"Don't be <i>too</i> impossible!"—he feared from his +friend, for a moment, some such answer as that; +and then felt, as she spoke otherwise, as if she were +letting him off easily. "I want her to marry a great +man." That was all; but, more and more, it was +enough; and if it hadn't been her next words would +have made it so. "And I think of her what I think. +There you are." +</p><p> +They sat for a little face to face upon it, and he +was conscious of something deeper still, of something +she wished him to understand if he only +would. To that extent she did appeal—appealed +to the intelligence she desired to show she believed +him to possess. He was meanwhile, at all events, +not the man wholly to fail of comprehension. "Of +course I'm aware how little I can answer to any +fond, proud dream. You've a view—a magnificent +one; into which I perfectly enter. I thoroughly understand +what I'm not, and I'm much obliged to +you for not reminding me of it in any rougher +way." She said nothing—she kept that up; it +might even have been to let him go further, if he +was capable of it, in the way of poorness of spirit. +It was one of those cases in which a man couldn't +show, if he showed at all, save for poor; unless +indeed he preferred to show for asinine. It was +the plain truth: he <i>was</i>—on Mrs. Lowder's basis, +the only one in question—a very small quantity, +and he did know, damnably, what made quantities +large. He desired to be perfectly simple; yet in +the midst of that effort a deeper apprehension +throbbed. Aunt Maud clearly conveyed it, though +he couldn't later on have said how. "You don't +really matter, I believe, so much as you think, and +I'm not going to make you a martyr by banishing +you. Your performances with Kate in the Park are +ridiculous so far as they're meant as consideration +for me; and I had much rather see you myself—since +you're, in your way, my dear young man, delightful—and +arrange with you, count with you, +as I easily, as I perfectly should. Do you suppose +me so stupid as to quarrel with you if it's not really +necessary? It won't—it would be too absurd!—<i>be</i> +necessary. I can bite your head off any day, any day +I really open my mouth; and I'm dealing with +you now, see—and successfully judge—without +opening it. I do things handsomely all round—I +place you in the presence of the plan with which, +from the moment it's a case of taking you seriously, +you're incompatible. Come then as near it as you +like, walk all round it—don't be afraid you'll hurt +it!—and live on with it before you." +</p><p> +He afterwards felt that if she hadn't absolutely +phrased all this it was because she so soon made +him out as going with her far enough. He was so +pleasantly affected by her asking no promise of him, +her not proposing he should pay for her indulgence +by his word of honour not to interfere, that he gave +her a kind of general assurance of esteem. Immediately +afterwards, then, he spoke of these things +to Kate, and what then came back to him first of +all was the way he had said to her—he mentioned +it to the girl—very much as one of a pair of lovers +says in a rupture by mutual consent: "I hope immensely, +of course, that you'll always regard me as +a friend." This had perhaps been going far—he +submitted it all to Kate; but really there had been +so much in it that it was to be looked at, as they +might say, wholly in its own light. Other things +than those we have presented had come up before +the close of his scene with Aunt Maud, but this matter +of her not treating him as a peril of the first +order easily predominated. There was moreover +plenty to talk about on the occasion of his subsequent +passage with our young woman, it having +been put to him abruptly, the night before, that he +might give himself a lift and do his newspaper a +service—so flatteringly was the case expressed—by +going, for fifteen or twenty weeks, to America. +The idea of a series of letters from the United States +from the strictly social point of view had for some +time been nursed in the inner sanctuary at whose +door he sat, and the moment was now deemed +happy for letting it loose. The imprisoned thought +had, in a word, on the opening of the door, flown +straight out into Densher's face, or perched at least +on his shoulder, making him look up in surprise +from his mere inky office-table. His account of +the matter to Kate was that he couldn't refuse—not +being in a position, as yet, to refuse anything; but +that his being chosen for such an errand confounded +his sense of proportion. He was definite as to his +scarce knowing how to measure the honour, which +struck him as equivocal; he had not quite supposed +himself the man for the class of job. This confused +consciousness, he intimated, he had promptly +enough betrayed to his manager; with the effect, +however, of seeing the question surprisingly clear +up. What it came to was that the sort of twaddle +that was not in his chords was, unexpectedly, just +what they happened this time not to want. They +wanted his letters, for queer reasons, about as good +as he could let them come; he was to play his own +little tune and not be afraid; that was the whole +point. +</p><p> +It would have been the whole, that is, had there +not been a sharper one still in the circumstance that +he was to start at once. His mission, as they called +it at the office, would probably be over by the end +of June, which was desirable; but to bring that +about he must now not lose a week; his inquiries, +he understood, were to cover the whole ground, +and there were reasons of State—reasons operating +at the seat of empire in Fleet Street—why the nail +should be struck on the head. Densher made no +secret to Kate of his having asked for a day to decide; +and his account of that matter was that he +felt he owed it to her to speak to her first. She +assured him on this that nothing so much as that +scruple had yet shown her how they were bound +together; she was clearly proud of his letting a +thing of such importance depend on her; but she +was clearer still as to his instant duty. She rejoiced +in his prospect and urged him to his task; she +should miss him intensely—of course she should +miss him; but she made so little of it that she spoke +with jubilation of what he would see and would +do. She made so much of this last quantity that he +laughed at her innocence, though also with scarce +the heart to give her the real size of his drop in +the daily bucket. He was struck at the same time +with her happy grasp of what had really occurred +in Fleet Street—all the more that it was his own +final reading. He was to pull the subject up—that +was just what they wanted; and it would take +more than all the United States together, visit them +each as he might, to let <i>him</i> down. It was just +because he didn't nose about and wasn't the usual +gossipmonger that they had picked him out; it +was a branch of their correspondence with which +they evidently wished a new tone associated, such +a tone as, from now on, it would have always to +take from his example. +</p><p> +"How you ought indeed, when you understand +so well, to be a journalist's wife!" Densher exclaimed +in admiration, even while she struck him +as fairly hurrying him off. +</p><p> +But she was almost impatient of the praise. +"What do you expect one <i>not</i> to understand when +one cares for you?" +</p><p> +"Ah then, I'll put it otherwise and say 'How +much you care for me!'" +</p><p> +"Yes," she assented; "it fairly redeems my stupidity. +I <i>shall,</i> with a chance to show it," she added, +"have some imagination for you." +</p><p> +She spoke of the future this time as so little +contingent, that he felt a queerness of conscience +in making her the report that he presently arrived +at on what had passed for him with the real +arbiter of their destiny. The way for that had been +blocked a little by his news from Fleet Street; but +in the crucible of their happy discussion this element +soon melted into the other, and in the mixture that +ensued the parts were not to be distinguished. The +young man moreover, before taking his leave, was +to see why Kate had just spoken of the future as +if they now really possessed it, and was to come to +the vision by a devious way that deepened the final +cheer. Their faces were turned to the illumined +quarter as soon as he had answered her question in +respect to the appearance of their being able to +play a waiting game with success. It was for the +possibility of that appearance that she had, a few +days before, so earnestly pressed him to see her +aunt; and if after his hour with that lady it had +not struck Densher that he had seen her to the +happiest purpose the poor facts flushed with a better +meaning as Kate, one by one, took them up. +</p><p> +"If she consents to your coming, why isn't that +everything?" +</p><p> +"It <i>is</i> everything; everything <i>she</i> thinks it. It's +the probability—I mean as Mrs. Lowder measures +probability—that I may be prevented from becoming +a complication for her by some arrangement, +<i>any</i> arrangement, through which you shall see me +often and easily. She's sure of my want of money, +and that gives her time. She believes in my having +a certain amount of delicacy, in my wishing to better +my state before I put the pistol to your head +in respect to sharing it. The time that will take +figures for her as the time that will help her if she +doesn't spoil her chance by treating me badly. She +doesn't at all wish moreover," Densher went on, +"to treat me badly, for I believe, upon my honour, +funny as it may sound to you, that she personally +rather likes me, and that if you weren't in question +I might almost become her pet young man. She +doesn't disparage intellect and culture—quite the +contrary; she wants them to adorn her board and +be named in her programme; and I'm sure it has +sometimes cost her a real pang that I should be so +desirable, at once, and so impossible." He paused +a moment, and his companion then saw that a +strange smile was in his face—a smile as strange +even as the adjunct, in her own, of this informing +vision. "I quite suspect her of believing that, if +the truth were known, she likes me literally better +than—deep down—you yourself do: wherefore she +does me the honour to think that I may be safely +left to kill my own cause. There, as I say, comes in +her margin. I'm not the sort of stuff of romance +that wears, that washes, that survives use, that resists +familiarity. Once in any degree admit that, +and your pride and prejudice will take care of the +rest! the pride fed full, meanwhile, by the system +she means to practise with you, and the prejudice +excited by the comparison she'll enable you to +make, from which I shall come off badly. She likes +me, but she'll never like me so much as when she +succeeded a little better in making me look +wretched. For then <i>you'll</i> like me less." +</p><p> +Kate showed for this evocation a due interest, +but no alarm; and it was a little as if to pay his +tender cynicism back in kind that she after an instant +replied: "I see, I see; what an immense affair +she must think me! One was aware, but you +deepen the impression." +</p><p> +"I think you'll make no mistake," said Densher, +"in letting it go as deep as it will." +</p><p> +He had given her indeed, she made no scruple of +showing, plenty to consider. "Her facing the +music, her making you boldly as welcome as you +say—that's an awfully big theory, you know, and +worthy of all the other big things that, in one's +acquaintance with people, give her a place so apart." +</p><p> +"Oh, she's grand," the young man conceded; +"she's on the scale, altogether, of the car of Juggernaut +which was a kind of image that came to +me yesterday while I waited for her at Lancaster +Gate. The things in your drawing-room there +were like the forms of the strange idols, the mystic +excrescences, with which one may suppose the front +of the car to bristle." +</p><p> +"Yes, aren't they?" the girl returned; and they +had, over all that aspect of their wonderful lady, +one of those deep and free interchanges that made +everything but confidence a false note for them. +There were complications, there were questions; +but they were so much more together than they +were anything else. Kate uttered for a while no +word of refutation of Aunt Maud's "big" diplomacy, +and they left it there, as they would have left +any other fine product, for a monument to her +powers. But, Densher related further, he had had +in other respects too the car of Juggernaut to face; +he omitted nothing from his account of his visit, +least of all the way Aunt Maud had frankly at last—though +indeed only under artful pressure—fallen +foul of his very type, his want of the right marks, +his foreign accidents, his queer antecedents. She +had told him he was but half a Briton, which, he +granted Kate, would have been dreadful if he hadn't +so let himself in for it. +</p><p> +"I was really curious, you see," he explained, +"to find out from her what sort of queer creature, +what sort of social anomaly, in the light of such conventions +as hers, such an education as mine makes +one pass for." +</p><p> +Kate said nothing for a little; but then, "Why +should you care?" she asked. +</p><p> +"Oh," he laughed, "I like her so much; and +then, for a man of my trade, her views, her spirit, +are essentially a thing to get hold of; they belong +to the great public mind that we meet at every turn +and that we must keep setting up 'codes' with. +Besides," he added, "I want to please her personally." +</p><p> +"Ah, yes, we must please her personally!" his +companion echoed; and the words may represent +all their definite recognition, at the time, of Densher's +politic gain. They had in fact between this +and his start for New York many matters to handle, +and the question he now touched upon came +up for Kate above all. She looked at him as if he +had really told her aunt more of his immediate personal +story than he had ever told herself. That, +if it were so, was an accident, and it put him, for +half an hour, on as much of the picture of his early +years abroad, his migratory parents, his Swiss +schools, his German university, as she had easy +attention for. A man, he intimated, a man of their +world, would have spotted him straight as to many +of these points; a man of their world, so far as +they had a world, would have been through the +English mill. But it was none the less charming +to make his confession to a woman; women had, +in fact, for such differences, so much more imagination. +Kate showed at present all his case could require; +when she had had it from beginning to end +she declared that she now made out more than ever +yet of what she loved him for. She had herself, +as a child, lived with some continuity in the world +across the Channel, coming home again still a child; +and had participated after that, in her teens, in her +mother's brief but repeated retreats to Dresden, to +Florence, to Biarritz, weak and expensive attempts +at economy from which there stuck to her—though +in general coldly expressed, through the instinctive +avoidance of cheap raptures—the religion of foreign +things. When it was revealed to her how +many more foreign things were in Merton Densher +than he had hitherto taken the trouble to catalogue, +she almost faced him as if he were a map of the +continent or a handsome present of a delightful +new "Murray." He hadn't meant to swagger, he +had rather meant to plead, though with Mrs. Lowder +he had meant also a little to explain. His +father had been, in strange countries, in twenty settlements +of the English, British chaplain, resident +or occasional, and had had for years the unusual +luck of never wanting a billet. His career abroad +had therefore been unbroken, and, as his stipend +had never been great, he had educated his children +at the smallest cost, in the schools nearest; which +was also a saving of railway fares. Densher's +mother, it further appeared, had practised on her +side a distinguished industry, to the success of which—so +far as success ever crowned it—this period of +exile had much contributed: she copied, patient +lady, famous pictures in great museums, having +begun with a happy natural gift and taking in betimes +the scale of her opportunity. Copyists abroad +of course swarmed, but Mrs. Densher had had a +sense and a hand of her own, had arrived at a perfection +that persuaded, that even deceived, and that +made the disposal of her work blissfully usual. Her +son, who had lost her, held her image sacred, and +the effect of his telling Kate all about her, as well +as about other matters until then mixed and dim, +was to render his history rich, his sources full, his +outline anything but common. He had come +round, he had come back, he insisted abundantly, to +being a Briton: his Cambridge years, his happy +connection, as it had proved, with his father's college, +amply certified to that, to say nothing of his +subsequent plunge into London, which filled up +the measure. But brave enough though his descent +to English earth, he had passed, by the way, through +zones of air that had left their ruffle on his wings, +had been exposed to initiations ineffaceable. Something +had happened to him that could never be +undone. +</p><p> +When Kate Croy said to him as much he besought +her not to insist, declaring that this indeed +was what was too much the matter with him, that +he had been but too probably spoiled for native, for +insular use. On which, not unnaturally, she insisted +the more, assuring him, without mitigation, that if +he was complicated and brilliant she wouldn't for +the world have had him any thing less; so that he +was reduced in the end to accusing her of putting +the dreadful truth to him in the hollow guise of +flattery. She was making out how abnormal he was +in order that she might eventually find him impossible; +and, as she could fully make it out but +with his aid, she had to bribe him by feigned delight +to help her. If her last word for him, in the +connection, was that the way he saw himself was +just a precious proof the more of his having tasted +of the tree and being thereby prepared to assist her +to eat, this gives the happy tone of their whole +talk, the measure of the flight of time in the near +presence of his settled departure. Kate showed, +however, that she was to be more literally taken +when she spoke of the relief Aunt Maud would draw +from the prospect of his absence. +</p><p> +"Yet one can scarcely see why," he replied, +"when she fears me so little." +</p><p> +His friend weighed his objection. "Your idea +is that she likes you so much that she'll even go so +far as to regret losing you?" +</p><p> +Well, he saw it in their constant comprehensive +way. "Since what she builds on is the gradual +process of your alienation, she may take the view +that the process constantly requires me. Mustn't +I be there to keep it going? It's in my exile that +it may languish." +</p><p> +He went on with that fantasy, but at this point +Kate ceased to attend. He saw after a little that +she had been following some thought of her own, +and he had been feeling the growth of something +determinant even through the extravagance of +much of the pleasantry, the warm, transparent irony, +into which their livelier intimacy kept plunging like +a confident swimmer. Suddenly she said to him +with extraordinary beauty: "I engage myself to +you for ever." +</p><p> +The beauty was in everything, and he could have +separated nothing—couldn't have thought of her +face as distinct from the whole joy. Yet her face +had a new light. "And I pledge you—I call God +to witness!—every spark of my faith; I give you +every drop of my life." That was all, for the moment, +but it was enough, and it was almost as quiet +as if it were nothing. They were in the open air, +in an alley of the Gardens; the great space, which +seemed to arch just then higher and spread wider +for them, threw them back into deep concentration. +They moved by a common instinct to a spot, +within sight, that struck them as fairly sequestered, +and there, before their time together was spent, +they had extorted from concentration every advance +it could make them. They had exchanged +vows and tokens, sealed their rich compact, solemnized, +so far as breathed words and murmured sounds +and lighted eyes and clasped hands could do it, their +agreement to belong only, and to belong tremendously, +to each other. They were to leave the place +accordingly an affianced couple; but before they +left it other things still had passed. Densher had +declared his horror of bringing to a premature end +her happy relation with her aunt; and they had +worked round together to a high level of wisdom +and patience. Kate's free profession was that she +wished not to deprive <i>him</i> of Mrs. Lowder's countenance, +which, in the long run, she was convinced +he would continue to enjoy; and as, by a blessed +turn, Aunt Maud had demanded of him no promise +that would tie his hands, they should be able to +cultivate their destiny in their own way and yet remain +loyal. One difficulty alone stood out, which +Densher named. +</p><p> +"Of course it will never do—we must remember +that—from the moment you allow her to found +hopes of you for any one else in particular. So +long as her view is content to remain as general as +at present appears, I don't see that we deceive her. +At a given moment, you see, she must be undeceived: +the only thing therefore is to be ready for +the moment and to face it. Only, after all, in that +case," the young man observed, "one doesn't quite +make out what we shall have got from her." +</p><p> +"What she'll have got from <i>us?"</i> Kate inquired +with a smile. "What she'll have got from us," the +girl went on, "is her own affair—it's for <i>her</i> to +measure. I asked her for nothing," she added; "I +never put myself upon her. She must take her +risks, and she surely understands them. What we +shall have got from her is what we've already spoken +of," Kate further explained; "it's that we shall +have gained time. And so, for that matter, will +she." +</p><p> +Densher gazed a little at all this clearness; his +gaze was not at the present hour into romantic obscurity. +"Yes; no doubt, in our particular situation, +time's everything. And then there's the joy +of it." +</p><p> +She hesitated. "Of our secret?" +</p><p> +"Not so much perhaps of our secret in itself, but +of what's represented and, as we must somehow +feel, protected and made deeper and closer by it." +And his fine face, relaxed into happiness, covered +her with all his meaning. "Our being as we +are." +</p><p> +It was as if for a moment she let the meaning sink +into her. "So gone?" +</p><p> +"So gone. So extremely gone. However," he +smiled, "we shall go a good deal further." Her +answer to which was only the softness of her silence—a +silence that looked out for them both at the far +reach of their prospect. This was immense, and +they thus took final possession of it. They were +practically united and they were splendidly strong; +but there were other things—things they were precisely +strong enough to be able successfully to +count with and safely to allow for; in consequence +of which they would, for the present, subject to +some better reason, keep their understanding to +themselves. It was not indeed, however, till after +one more observation of Densher's that they felt +the question completely straightened out. "The +only thing of course is that she may any day absolutely +put it to you." +</p><p> +Kate considered. "Ask me where, on my honour, +we are? She may, naturally; but I doubt if +in fact she will. While you're away she'll make the +most of it. She'll leave me alone." +</p><p> +"But there'll be my letters." +</p><p> +The girl faced his letters. "Very, very many?" +</p><p> +"Very, very, very many—more than ever; and +you know what that is! And then," Densher added, +"there'll be yours." +</p><p> +"Oh, I shan't leave mine on the hall-table. I +shall post them myself." +</p><p> +He looked at her a moment. "Do you think +then I had best address you elsewhere?" After +which, before she could quite answer, he added +with some emphasis: "I'd rather not, you know. +It's straighter." +</p><p> +She might again have just waited. "Of course +it's straighter. Don't be afraid I shan't be straight. +Address me," she continued, "where you like. I +shall be proud enough of its being known you write +to me." +</p><p> +He turned it over for the last clearness. "Even +at the risk of its really bringing down the inquisition?" +</p><p> +Well, the last clearness now filled her. "I'm not +afraid of the inquisition. If she asks if there's anything +definite between us, I know perfectly what I +shall say." +</p><p> +"That I <i>am,</i> of course, 'gone' for you?" +</p><p> +"That I love you as I shall never in my life love +any one else, and that she can make what she likes +of that." She said it out so splendidly that it was +like a new profession of faith, the fulness of a tide +breaking through; and the effect of that, in turn, +was to make her companion meet her with such eyes +that she had time again before he could otherwise +speak. "Besides, she's just as likely to ask <i>you."</i> +</p><p> +"Not while I'm away." +</p><p> +"Then when you come back." +</p><p> +"Well then," said Densher, "we shall have had +our particular joy. But what I feel is," he candidly +added, "that, by an idea of her own, her superior +policy, she <i>won't</i> ask me. She'll let me off. I +shan't have to lie to her." +</p><p> +"It will be left all to me?" asked Kate. +</p><p> +"All to you!" he tenderly laughed. +</p><p> +But it was, oddly, the very next moment as if he +had perhaps been a shade too candid. His discrimination +seemed to mark a possible, a natural +reality, a reality not wholly disallowed by the account +the girl had just given of her own intention. +There <i>was</i> a difference in the air—even if none +other than the supposedly usual difference in truth +between man and woman; and it was almost as if +the sense of this provoked her. She seemed to +cast about an instant, and then she went back a little +resentfully to something she had suffered to pass +a minute before. She appeared to take up rather +more seriously than she need the joke about her +freedom to deceive. Yet she did this too in a +beautiful way. "Men are too stupid—even you. +You didn't understand just now why, if I post my +letters myself, it won't be for any thing so vulgar +as to hide them." +</p><p> +"Oh, you said—for the pleasure." +</p><p> +"Yes; but you didn't, you don't understand +what the pleasure may be. There are refinements——!" +she more patiently dropped. "I +mean of consciousness, of sensation, of appreciation," +she went on. "No," she sadly insisted—<i>"men</i> +don't know. They know, in such matters, +almost nothing but what women show them." +</p><p> +This was one of the speeches, frequent in her, +that, liberally, joyfully, intensely adopted and, in +itself, as might be, embraced, drew him again as +close to her, and held him as long, as their conditions +permitted. "Then that's exactly why we've +such an abysmal need of you!" +</p> +<br><br> +<h2 align="center">BOOK THIRD</h2> +<br> +<h2 align="center">V</h2> +<br> +<p> +The two ladies who, in advance of the Swiss +season, had been warned that their design +was unconsidered, that the passes would not be +clear, nor the air mild, nor the inns open—the two +ladies who, characteristically, had braved a good +deal of possibly interested remonstrance were finding +themselves, as their adventure turned out, wonderfully +sustained. It was the judgment of the +head-waiters and other functionaries on the Italian +lakes that approved itself now as interested; they +themselves had been conscious of impatiences, of +bolder dreams—at least the younger had; so that +one of the things they made out together—making +out as they did an endless variety—was that in +those operatic palaces of the Villa d'Este, of Cadenabbia, +of Pallanza and Stresa, lone women, however +reinforced by a travelling-library of instructive +volumes, were apt to be beguiled and undone. +Their flights of fancy moreover had been modest; +they had for instance risked nothing vital in hoping +to make their way by the Brünig. They were +making it in fact happily enough as we meet them, +and were only wishing that, for the wondrous +beauty of the early high-climbing spring, it might +have been longer and the places to pause and rest +more numerous. +</p><p> +Such at least had been the intimated attitude of +Mrs. Stringham, the elder of the companions, who +had her own view of the impatiences of the +younger, to which, however, she offered an opposition +but of the most circuitous. She moved, the +admirable Mrs. Stringham, in a fine cloud of observation +and suspicion; she was in the position, +as she believed, of knowing much more about Milly +Theale than Milly herself knew, and yet of having +to darken her knowledge as well as make it active. +The woman in the world least formed by nature, as +she was quite aware, for duplicities and labyrinths, +she found herself dedicated to personal subtlety by +a new set of circumstances, above all by a new personal +relation; had now in fact to recognise that an +education in the occult—she could scarce say what +to call it—had begun for her the day she left New +York with Mildred. She had come on from Boston +for that purpose; had seen little of the girl—or +rather had seen her but briefly, for Mrs. Stringham, +when she saw anything at all, saw much, saw +everything—before accepting her proposal; and +had accordingly placed herself, by her act, in a boat +that she more and more estimated as, humanly +speaking, of the biggest, though likewise, no +doubt, in many ways, by reason of its size, of the +safest. In Boston, the winter before, the young +lady in whom we are interested had, on the spot, +deeply, yet almost tacitly, appealed to her, dropped +into her mind the shy conceit of some assistance, +some devotion to render. Mrs. Stringham's little +life had often been visited by shy conceits—secret +dreams that had fluttered their hour between its +narrow walls without, for any great part, so much +as mustering courage to look out of its rather dim +windows. But this imagination—the fancy of a +possible link with the remarkable young thing from +New York—<i>had</i> mustered courage: had perched, +on the instant, at the clearest look-out it could find, +and might be said to have remained there till, only +a few months later, it had caught, in surprise and +joy, the unmistakable flash of a signal. +</p><p> +Milly Theale had Boston friends, such as they +were, and of recent making; and it was understood +that her visit to them—a visit that was not to be +meagre—had been undertaken, after a series of +bereavements, in the interest of the particular peace +that New York could not give. It was recognised, +liberally enough, that there were many things—perhaps +even too many—New York <i>could</i> give; +but this was felt to make no difference in the constant +fact that what you had most to do, under the +discipline of life, or of death, was really to feel your +situation as grave. Boston could help you to +that as nothing else could, and it had extended +to Milly, by every presumption, some such measure +of assistance. Mrs. Stringham was never to forget—for +the moment had not faded, nor the infinitely +fine vibration it set up in any degree ceased—her +own first sight of the striking apparition, then unheralded +and unexplained: the slim, constantly +pale, delicately haggard, anomalously, agreeably +angular young person, of not more than two-and-twenty +in spite of her marks, whose hair was some +how exceptionally red even for the real thing, +which it innocently confessed to being, and whose +clothes were remarkably black even for robes of +mourning, which was the meaning they expressed. +It was New York mourning, it was New York hair, +it was a New York history, confused as yet, but +multitudinous, of the loss of parents, brothers, sisters, +almost every human appendage, all on a scale +and with a sweep that had required the greater stage; +it was a New York legend of affecting, of romantic +isolation, and, beyond everything, it was by most accounts, +in respect to the mass of money so piled on +the girl's back, a set of New York possibilities. She +was alone, she was stricken, she was rich, and, in +particular, she was strange—a combination in itself +of a nature to engage Mrs. Stringham's attention. +But it was the strangeness that most determined +our good lady's sympathy, convinced as she was +that it was much greater than any one else—any +one but the sole Susan Stringham—supposed. +Susan privately settled it that Boston was not in +the least seeing her, was only occupied with her +seeing Boston, and that any assumed affinity between +the two characters was delusive and vain. +She was seeing her, and she had quite the deepest +moment of her life in now obeying the instinct to +conceal the vision. She couldn't explain it—no one +would understand. They would say clever Boston +things—Mrs. Stringham was from Burlington, Vermont, +which she boldly upheld as the real heart of +New England, Boston being "too far south"—but +they would only darken counsel. +</p><p> +There could be no better proof, than this quick +intellectual split, of the impression made on our +friend, who shone, herself, she was well aware, with +but the reflected light of the admirable city. She +too had had her discipline, but it had not made +her striking; it had been prosaically usual, though +doubtless a decent dose; and had only made her +usual to match it—usual, that is, as Boston went. +She had lost first her husband, and then her mother, +with whom, on her husband's death, she had lived +again; so that now, childless, she was but more +sharply single than before. But she sat rather +coldly light, having, as she called it, enough to live +on—so far, that is, as she lived by bread alone: +how little indeed she was regularly content with that +diet appeared from the name she had made—Susan +Shepherd Stringham—as a contributor to the best +magazines. She wrote short stories, and she fondly +believed she had her "note," the art of showing +New England without showing it wholly in the +kitchen. She had not herself been brought up in +the kitchen; she knew others who had not; and to +speak for them had thus become with her a literary +mission. To <i>be</i> in truth literary had ever been her +dearest thought, the thought that kept her bright +little nippers perpetually in position. There were +masters, models, celebrities, mainly foreign, whom +she finely accounted so and in whose light she ingeniously +laboured; there were others whom, however +chattered about, she ranked with the inane, for +she was full of discrimination; but all categories +failed her—they ceased at least to signify—as soon +as she found herself in presence of the real thing, +the romantic life itself. That was what she saw in +Mildred—what positively made her hand a while +tremble too much for the pen. She had had, it +seemed to her, a revelation—such as even New +England refined and grammatical couldn't give; +and, all made up as she was of small neat memories +and ingenuities, little industries and ambitions, +mixed with something moral, personal, that was still +more intensely responsive, she felt her new friend +would have done her an ill turn if their friendship +shouldn't develop, and yet that nothing would be +left of anything else if it should. It was for the surrender +of everything else that she was, however, +quite prepared, and while she went about her usual +Boston business with her usual Boston probity she +was really all the while holding herself. She wore +her "handsome" felt hat, so Tyrolese, yet some +how, though feathered from the eagle's wing, so +truly domestic, with the same straightness and security; +she attached her fur boa with the same +honest precautions; she preserved her balance on +the ice-slopes with the same practised skill; she +opened, each evening, her "Transcript" with the +same interfusion of suspense and resignation; she +attended her almost daily concert with the same +expenditure of patience and the same economy of +passion; she flitted in and out of the Public Library +with the air of conscientiously returning or bravely +carrying off in her pocket the key of knowledge itself; +and finally—it was what she most did—she +watched the thin trickle of a fictive "love-interest" +through that somewhat serpentine channel, in the +magazines, which she mainly managed to keep clear +for it. But the real thing, all the while, was elsewhere; +the real thing had gone back to New York, +leaving behind it the two unsolved questions, quite +distinct, of why it <i>was</i> real, and whether she should +ever be so near it again. +</p><p> +For the figure to which these questions attached +themselves she had found a convenient description—she +thought of it for herself, always, as that of a +girl with a background. The great reality was in +the fact that, very soon, after but two or three +meetings, the girl with the background, the girl +with the crown of old gold and the mourning that +was not as the mourning of Boston, but at once +more rebellious in its gloom and more frivolous in +its frills, had told her she had never seen any one +like her. They had met thus as opposed curiosities, +and that simple remark of Milly's—if simple it was—became +the most important thing that had ever +happened to her; it deprived the love-interest, for +the time, of actuality and even of pertinence; it +moved her first, in short, in a high degree, to gratitude, +and then to no small compassion. Yet in respect +to this relation at least it was what did prove +the key of knowledge; it lighted up as nothing else +could do the poor young woman's history. That +the potential heiress of all the ages should never +have seen any one like a mere typical subscriber, +after all, to the "Transcript" was a truth that—in +especial as announced with modesty, with humility, +with regret—described a situation. It laid upon +the elder woman, as to the void to be filled, a +weight of responsibility; but in particular it led her +to ask whom poor Mildred <i>had</i> then seen, and what +range of contacts it had taken to produce such +queer surprises. That was really the inquiry that +had ended by clearing the air: the key of knowledge +was felt to click in the lock from the moment +it flashed upon Mrs. Stringham that her friend had +been starved for culture. Culture was what she +herself represented for her, and it was living up to +that principle that would surely prove the great +business. She knew, the clever lady, what the +principle itself represented, and the limits of her +own store; and a certain alarm would have grown +upon her if something else hadn't grown faster. +</p><p> +This was, fortunately for her—and we give it in her +own words—the sense of a harrowing pathos. +That, primarily, was what appealed to her, what +seemed to open the door of romance for her still +wider than any, than a still more reckless, connection +with the "picture-papers." For such was +essentially the point: it was rich, romantic, abysmal, +to have, as was evident, thousands and thousands a +year, to have youth and intelligence and if not +beauty, at least, in equal measure, a high, dim, +charming, ambiguous oddity, which was even better, +and then on top of all to enjoy boundless freedom, +the freedom of the wind in the desert—it was +unspeakably touching to be so equipped and yet to +have been reduced by fortune to little humble-minded +mistakes. +</p><p> +It brought our friend's imagination back again +to New York, where aberrations were so possible +in the intellectual sphere, and it in fact caused a +visit she presently paid there to overflow with interest. +As Milly had beautifully invited her, so she +would hold out if she could against the strain of +so much confidence in her mind; and the remarkable +thing was that even at the end of three weeks +she <i>had</i> held out. But by this time her mind had +grown comparatively bold and free; it was dealing +with new quantities, a different proportion altogether—and +that had made for refreshment: she +had accordingly gone home in convenient possession +of her subject. New York was vast, New York +was startling, with strange histories, with wild cosmopolite +backward generations that accounted for +anything; and to have got nearer the luxuriant +tribe of which the rare creature was the final flower, +the immense, extravagant, unregulated cluster, with +free-living ancestors, handsome dead cousins, lurid +uncles, beautiful vanished aunts, persons all busts +and curls, preserved, though so exposed, in the +marble of famous French chisels—all this, to say +nothing of the effect of closer growths of the stem, +was to have had one's small world-space both +crowded and enlarged. Our couple had at all +events effected an exchange; the elder friend had +been as consciously intellectual as possible, and the +younger, abounding in personal revelation, had +been as unconsciously distinguished. This was +poetry—it was also history—Mrs. Stringham +thought, to a finer tune even than Maeterlink and +Pater, than Marbot and Gregorovius. She appointed +occasions for the reading of these authors +with her hostess, rather perhaps than actually +achieved great spans; but what they managed and +what they missed speedily sank for her into the dim +depths of the merely relative, so quickly, so strongly +had she clutched her central clue. All her scruples +and hesitations, all her anxious enthusiasms, had reduced +themselves to a single alarm—the fear that +she really might act on her companion clumsily and +coarsely. She was positively afraid of what she +might do to her, and to avoid that, to avoid it with +piety and passion, to do, rather, nothing at all, to +leave her untouched because no touch one could +apply, however light, however just, however earnest +and anxious, would be half good enough, would be +anything but an ugly smutch upon perfection—this +now imposed itself as a consistent, an inspiring +thought. +</p><p> +Less than a month after the event that had so +determined Mrs. Stringham's attitude—close upon +the heels, that is, of her return from New York—she +was reached by a proposal that brought up for +her the kind of question her delicacy might have +to contend with. Would she start for Europe with +her young friend at the earliest possible date, and +should she be willing to do so without making conditions? +The inquiry was launched by wire; explanations, +in sufficiency, were promised; extreme +urgency was suggested, and a general surrender +invited. It was to the honour of her sincerity that +she made the surrender on the spot, though it was +not perhaps altogether to that of her logic. She +had wanted, very consciously, from the first, to give +something up for her new acquaintance, but she +had now no doubt that she was practically giving +up all. What settled this was the fulness of a particular +impression, the impression that had throughout +more and more supported her and which she +would have uttered so far as she might by saying +that the charm of the creature was positively in the +creature's greatness. She would have been content +so to leave it; unless indeed she had said, more +familiarly, that Mildred was the biggest impression +of her life. That was at all events the biggest account +of her, and none but a big, clearly, would do. +Her situation, as such things were called, was on +the grand scale; but it still was not that. It was +her nature, once for all—a nature that reminded +Mrs. Stringham of the term always used in the newspapers +about the great new steamers, the inordinate +number of "feet of water" they drew; so +that if, in your little boat, you had chosen to hover +and approach, you had but yourself to thank, when +once motion was started, for the way the draught +pulled you. Milly drew the feet of water, and odd +though it might seem that a lonely girl, who was +not robust and who hated sound and show, should +stir the stream like a leviathan, her companion +floated off with the sense of rocking violently at +her side. More than prepared, however, for that +excitement, Mrs. Stringham mainly failed of ease +in respect to her own consistency. To attach herself +for an indefinite time seemed a roundabout +way of holding her hands off. If she wished to be +sure of neither touching nor smutching, the +straighter plan would doubtless have been not to +keep her friend within reach. This in fact she fully +recognised, and with it the degree to which she +desired that the girl should lead her life, a life certain +to be so much finer than that of anybody else. +The difficulty, however, by good fortune, cleared +away as soon as she had further recognised, as she +was speedily able to do, that she, Susan Shepherd—the +name with which Milly for the most part +amused herself—was <i>not</i> anybody else. She had +renounced that character; she had now no life to +lead; and she honestly believed that she was thus +supremely equipped for leading Milly's own. No +other person whatever, she was sure, had to an +equal degree this qualification, and it was really to +assert it that she fondly embarked. +</p><p> +Many things, though not in many weeks, had +come and gone since then, and one of the best of +them, doubtless, had been the voyage itself, by +the happy southern course, to the succession of +Mediterranean ports, with the dazzled wind-up at +Naples. Two or three others had preceded this; +incidents, indeed rather lively marks, of their last +fortnight at home, and one of which had determined +on Mrs. Stringham's part a rush to New York, forty-eight +breathless hours there, previous to her final +rally. But the great sustained sea-light had drunk +up the rest of the picture, so that for many days +other questions and other possibilities sounded with +as little effect as a trio of penny whistles might +sound in a Wagner overture. It was the Wagner +overture that practically prevailed, up through Italy, +where Milly had already been, still further up and +across the Alps, which were also partly known to +Mrs. Stringham; only perhaps "taken" to a time +not wholly congruous, hurried in fact on account +of the girl's high restlessness. She had been expected, +she had frankly promised, to be restless—that +was partly why she was "great"—or was a +consequence, at any rate, if not a cause; yet she +had not perhaps altogether announced herself as +straining so hard at the cord. It was familiar, it +was beautiful to Mrs. Stringham that she had arrears +to make up, the chances that had lapsed for +her through the wanton ways of forefathers fond of +Paris, but not of its higher sides, and fond almost +of nothing else; but the vagueness, the openness, +the eagerness without point and the interest without +pause—all a part of the charm of her oddity as +at first presented—had become more striking in +proportion as they triumphed over movement and +change. She had arts and idiosyncrasies of which +no great account could have been given, but which +were a daily grace if you lived with them; such as +the art of being almost tragically impatient and yet +making it as light as air; of being inexplicably sad +and yet making it as clear as noon; of being unmistakably +gay, and yet making it as soft as dusk. +Mrs. Stringham by this time understood everything, +was more than ever confirmed in wonder and +admiration, in her view that it was life enough simply +to feel her companion's feelings; but there were +special keys she had not yet added to her bunch, +impressions that, of a sudden, were apt to affect her +as new. +</p><p> +This particular day on the great Swiss road had +been, for some reason, full of them, and they referred +themselves, provisionally, to some deeper +depth than she had touched—though into two or +three such depths, it must be added, she had peeped +long enough to find herself suddenly draw back. It +was not Milly's unpacified state, in short, that now +troubled her—though certainly, as Europe was the +great American sedative, the failure was to some +extent to be noted: it was the suspected presence +of something behind it—which, however, could +scarcely have taken its place there since their departure. +What any fresh motive of unrest could +suddenly have sprung from was, in short, not to be +divined. It was but half an explanation to say that +excitement, for each of them, had naturally dropped, +and that what they had left behind, or tried to—the +great serious facts of life, as Mrs. Stringham liked +to call them—was once more coming into sight +as objects loom through smoke when smoke begins +to clear; for these were general appearances from +which the girl's own aspect, her really larger vagueness, +seemed rather to disconnect itself. The nearest +approach to a personal anxiety indulged in as +yet by the elder lady was on her taking occasion to +wonder if what she had more than anything else +got hold of mightn't be one of the finer, one of the +finest, one of the rarest—as she called it so that she +might call it nothing worse—cases of American +intensity. She had just had a moment of alarm—asked +herself if her young friend were merely going +to treat her to some complicated drama of nerves. At +the end of a week, however, with their further progress, +her young friend had effectively answered the +question and given her the impression, indistinct indeed +as yet, of something that had a reality compared +with which the nervous explanation would have +been coarse. Mrs. Stringham found herself from +that hour, in other words, in presence of an explanation +that remained a muffled and intangible +form, but that, assuredly, should it take on sharpness, +would explain everything and more than +everything, would become instantly the light in +which Milly was to be read. +</p><p> +Such a matter as this may at all events speak of +the style in which our young woman could affect +those who were near her, may testify to the sort of +interest she could inspire. She worked—and seemingly +quite without design—upon the sympathy, +the curiosity, the fancy of her associates, and we +shall really ourselves scarce otherwise come closer +to her than by feeling their impression and sharing, +if need be, their confusion. She reduced them, Mrs. +Stringham would have said, reduced them to a consenting +bewilderment; which was precisely, for that +good lady, on a last analysis, what was most in +harmony with her greatness. She exceeded, escaped +measure, was surprising only because <i>they</i> +were so far from great. Thus it was that on this +wondrous day on the Brünig the spell of watching +her had grown more than ever irresistible; a proof +of what—or of a part of what—Mrs. Stringham had, +with all the rest, been reduced to. She had almost +the sense of tracking her young friend as if at a +given moment to pounce. She knew she shouldn't +pounce, she hadn't come out to pounce; yet she +felt her attention secretive, all the same, and her +observation scientific. She struck herself as hovering +like a spy, applying tests, laying traps, concealing +signs. This would last, however, only till she +should fairly know what was the matter; and to +watch was, after all, meanwhile, a way of clinging +to the girl, not less than an occupation, a satisfaction +in itself. The pleasure of watching, moreover, +if a reason were needed, came from a sense +of her beauty. Her beauty hadn't at all originally +seemed a part of the situation, and Mrs. Stringham +had, even in the first flush of friendship, not named +it, grossly, to any one; having seen early that, for +stupid people—and who, she sometimes secretly +asked herself, wasn't stupid?—it would take a great +deal of explaining. She had learned not to mention +it till it was mentioned first—which occasionally +happened, but not too often; and then she was +there in force. Then she both warmed to the perception +that met her own perception, and disputed +it, suspiciously, as to special items; while, in general, +she had learned to refine even to the point of +herself employing the word that most people employed. +She employed it to pretend that she was +also stupid and so have done with the matter; spoke +of her friend as plain, as ugly even, in a case of +especially dense insistence; but as, in appearance, +so "awfully full of things." This was her own +way of describing a face that, thanks, doubtless, to +rather too much forehead, too much nose and too +much mouth, together with too little mere conventional +colour and conventional line, was expressive, +irregular, exquisite, both for speech and for silence. +When Milly smiled it was a public event—when she +didn't it was a chapter of history. They had +stopped, on the Brünig, for luncheon, and there +had come up for them under the charm of the place +the question of a longer stay. +</p><p> +Mrs. Stringham was now on the ground of +thrilled recognitions, small sharp echoes of a past +which she kept in a well-thumbed case, but which, +on pressure of a spring and exposure to the air, +still showed itself ticking as hard as an honest old +watch. The embalmed "Europe" of her younger +time had partly stood for three years of Switzerland, +a term of continuous school at Vevey, with rewards +of merit in the form of silver medals tied by blue +ribbons and mild mountain-passes attacked with +alpenstocks. It was the good girls who, in the holidays, +were taken highest, and our friend could now +judge, from what she supposed her familiarity with +the minor peaks, that she had been one of the best. +These reminiscences, sacred to-day because prepared +in the hushed chambers of the past, had been +part of the general train laid for the pair of sisters, +daughters early fatherless, by their brave Vermont +mother, who struck her at present as having apparently, +almost like Columbus, worked out, all unassisted, +a conception of the other side of the globe. +She had focussed Vevey, by the light of nature, and +with extraordinary completeness, at Burlington; +after which she had embarked, sailed, landed, explored +and, above all, made good her presence. +She had given her daughters the five years in +Switzerland and Germany that were to leave them +ever afterwards a standard of comparison for all +cycles of Cathay, and to stamp the younger in especial—Susan +was the younger—with a character +that, as Mrs. Stringham had often had occasion, +through life, to say to herself, made all the difference. +It made all the difference for Mrs. Stringham, +over and over again and in the most remote +connections, that, thanks to her parent's lonely, +thrifty, hardy faith, she was a woman of the world. +There were plenty of women who were all sorts of +things that she wasn't, but who, on the other hand, +were not that, and who didn't know <i>she</i> was (which +she liked—it relegated them still further) and didn't +know, either, how it enabled her to judge them. +She had never seen herself so much in this light as +during the actual phase of her associated, if slightly +undirected, pilgrimage; and the consciousness gave +perhaps to her plea for a pause more intensity than +she knew. The irrecoverable days had come back +to her from far off; they were part of the sense of +the cool upper air and of everything else that hung +like an indestructible scent to the torn garment of +youth—the taste of honey and the luxury of milk, +the sound of cattle-bells and the rush of streams, the +fragrance of trodden balms and the dizziness of deep +gorges. +</p><p> +Milly clearly felt these things too, but they affected +her companion at moments—that was quite +the way Mrs. Stringham would have expressed it—as +the princess in a conventional tragedy might +have affected the confidant if a personal emotion +had ever been permitted to the latter. That a princess +could only be a princess was a truth with which, +essentially, a confidant, however responsive, had to +live. Mrs. Stringham was a woman of the world, +but Milly Theale was a princess, the only one she +had yet had to deal with, and this in its way, too, +made all the difference. It was a perfectly definite +doom for the wearer—it was for every one else +a perfectly palpable quality. It might have been, +possibly, with its involved loneliness and other mysteries, +the weight under which she fancied her companion's +admirable head occasionally, and ever so +submissively, bowed. Milly had quite assented at +luncheon to their staying over, and had left her to +look at rooms, settle questions, arrange about their +keeping on their carriage and horses; cares that +had now moreover fallen to Mrs. Stringham as a +matter of course and that yet for some reason, on +this occasion particularly, brought home to her—all +agreeably, richly, almost grandly—what it was to +live with the great. Her young friend had, in a +sublime degree, a sense closed to the general question +of difficulty, which she got rid of, furthermore, +not in the least as one had seen many charming +persons do, by merely passing it on to others. She +kept it completely at a distance: it never entered +the circle; the most plaintive confidant couldn't +have dragged it in; and to tread the path of a confidant +was accordingly to live exempt. Service was +in other words so easy to render that the whole +thing was like court life without the hardships. It +came back of course to the question of money, and +our observant lady had by this time repeatedly reflected +that if one were talking of the "difference," +it was just this, this incomparably and nothing else, +that when all was said and done most made it. A +less vulgarly, a less obviously purchasing or parading +person she couldn't have imagined; but it was, +all the same, the truth of truths that the girl couldn't +get away from her wealth. She might leave her +conscientious companion as freely alone with it as +possible and never ask a question, scarce even tolerate +a reference; but it was in the fine folds of the +helplessly expensive little black frock that she drew +over the grass as she now strolled vaguely off; it +was in the curious and splendid coils of hair, +"done" with no eye whatever to the <i>mode du jour,</i> +that peeped from under the corresponding indifference +of her hat, the merely personal tradition that +suggested a sort of noble inelegance; it lurked between +the leaves of the uncut but antiquated Tauchnitz +volume of which, before going out, she had +mechanically possessed herself. She couldn't dress +it away, nor walk it away, nor read it away, nor +think it away; she could neither smile it away in +any dreamy absence nor blow it away in any softened +sigh. She couldn't have lost it if she had +tried—that was what it was to be really rich. It +had to be <i>the</i> thing you were. When at the end of +an hour she had not returned to the house Mrs. +Stringham, though the bright afternoon was yet +young, took, with precautions, the same direction, +went to join her in case of her caring for a walk. +But the purpose of joining her was in truth less distinct +than that of a due regard for a possibly preferred +detachment: so that, once more, the good +lady proceeded with a quietness that made her +slightly "underhand" even in her own eyes. She +couldn't help that, however, and she didn't care, +sure as she was that what she really wanted was not +to overstep, but to stop in time. It was to be able +to stop in time that she went softly, but she had +on this occasion further to go than ever yet, for +she followed in vain, and at last with some anxiety, +the footpath she believed Milly to have taken. It +wound up a hillside and into the higher Alpine +meadows in which, all these last days, they had so +often wanted, as they passed above or below, to +stray; and then it obscured itself in a wood, but +always going up, up, and with a small cluster of +brown old high-perched chalets evidently for its +goal. Mrs. Stringham reached in due course the +chalets, and there received from a bewildered old +woman, a very fearful person to behold, an indication +that sufficiently guided her. The young lady +had been seen not long before passing further on, +over a crest and to a place where the way would +drop again, as our unappeased inquirer found it, in +fact, a quarter of an hour later, markedly and almost +alarmingly to do. It led somewhere, yet apparently +quite into space, for the great side of the mountain +appeared, from where she pulled up, to fall away +altogether, though probably but to some issue below +and out of sight. Her uncertainty moreover +was brief, for she next became aware of the presence +on a fragment of rock, twenty yards off, of the +Tauchnitz volume that the girl had brought out, +and that therefore pointed to her shortly previous +passage. She had rid herself of the book, which +was an encumbrance, and meant of course to pick +it up on her return; but as she hadn't yet picked it +up what on earth had become of her? Mrs. Stringham, +I hasten to add, was within a few moments to +see; but it was quite an accident that she had not, +before they were over, betrayed by her deeper agitation +the fact of her own nearness. +</p><p> +The whole place, with the descent of the path +and as a sequel to a sharp turn that was masked by +rocks and shrubs, appeared to fall precipitously and +to become a "view" pure and simple, a view of +great extent and beauty, but thrown forward and +vertiginous. Milly, with the promise of it from just +above, had gone straight down to it, not stopping +till it was all before her; and here, on what struck +her friend as the dizzy edge of it, she was seated +at her ease. The path somehow took care of itself +and its final business, but the girl's seat was a slab +of rock at the end of a short promontory or excrescence +that merely pointed off to the right into +gulfs of air and that was so placed by good fortune, +if not by the worst, as to be at last completely +visible. For Mrs. Stringham stifled a cry on taking +in what she believed to be the danger of such a +perch for a mere maiden; her liability to slip, to +slide, to leap, to be precipitated by a single false +movement, by a turn of the head—how could one +tell? into whatever was beneath. A thousand +thoughts, for the minute, roared in the poor lady's +ears, but without reaching, as happened, Milly's. It +was a commotion that left our observer intensely +still and holding her breath. What had first been +offered her was the possibility of a latent intention—however +wild the idea—in such a posture; of +some betrayed accordance of Milly's caprice with +a horrible hidden obsession. But since Mrs. Stringham +stood as motionless as if a sound, a syllable, +must have produced the start that would be fatal, +so even the lapse of a few seconds had a partly +reassuring effect. It gave her time to receive the +impression which, when she some minutes later +softly retraced her steps, was to be the sharpest she +carried away. This was the impression that if the +girl was deeply and recklessly meditating there, she +was not meditating a jump; she was on the contrary, +as she sat, much more in a state of uplifted +and unlimited possession that had nothing to gain +from violence. She was looking down on the kingdoms +of the earth, and though indeed that of itself +might well go to the brain, it wouldn't be with a +view of renouncing them. Was she choosing +among them, or did she want them all? This question, +before Mrs. Stringham had decided what to +do, made others vain; in accordance with which she +saw, or believed she did, that if it might be dangerous +to call out, to sound in any way a surprise, it +would probably be safe enough to withdraw as she +had come. She watched a while longer, she held +her breath, and she never knew afterwards what +time had elapsed. +</p><p> +Not many minutes probably, yet they had not +seemed few, and they had given her so much to +think of, not only while creeping home, but while +waiting afterwards at the inn, that she was still busy +with them when, late in the afternoon, Milly reappeared. +She had stopped at the point of the path +where the Tauchnitz lay, had taken it up and, with +the pencil attached to her watch-guard, had scrawled +a word—<i>ŕ bientôt!</i>—across the cover; then, even +under the girl's continued delay, had measured time +without a return of alarm. For she now saw that +the great thing she had brought away was precisely +a conviction that the future was not to exist for +her princess in the form of any sharp or simple release +from the human predicament. It wouldn't +be for her a question of a flying leap and thereby +of a quick escape. It would be a question of taking +full in the face the whole assault of life, to the +general muster of which indeed her face might +have been directly presented as she sat there on +her rock. Mrs. Stringham was thus able to say +to herself, even after another interval of some +length, that if her young friend still continued absent +it wouldn't be because—whatever the opportunity—she +had cut short the thread. She +wouldn't have committed suicide; she knew herself +unmistakably reserved for some more complicated +passage; this was the very vision in which +she had, with no little awe, been discovered. The +image that thus remained with the elder lady kept +the character of revelation. During the breathless +minutes of her watch she had seen her companion +afresh; the latter's type, aspect, marks, her history, +her state, her beauty, her mystery, all unconsciously +betrayed themselves to the Alpine air, and all had +been gathered in again to feed Mrs. Stringham's +flame. They are things that will more distinctly +appear for us, and they are meanwhile briefly represented +by the enthusiasm that was stronger on +our friend's part than any doubt. It was a consciousness +she was scarce yet used to carrying, but +she had as beneath her feet a mine of something +precious. She seemed to herself to stand near the +mouth, not yet quite cleared. The mine but needed +working and would certainly yield a treasure. She +was not thinking, either, of Milly's gold. +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">VI</h2> +<br> +<p> +The girl said nothing, when they met, about the +words scrawled on the Tauchnitz, and Mrs. Stringham +then noticed that she had not the book with +her. She had left it lying and probably would +never remember it at all. Her comrade's decision +was therefore quickly made not to speak of having +followed her; and within five minutes of her return, +wonderfully enough, the preoccupation denoted by +her forgetfulness further declared itself. "Should +you think me quite abominable if I were to say that +after all——?" +</p><p> +Mrs. Stringham had already thought, with the +first sound of the question, everything she was capable +of thinking, and had immediately made such a +sign that Milly's words gave place to visible relief +at her assent. "You don't care for our stop here—you'd +rather go straight on? We'll start then +with the peep of to-morrow's dawn—or as early as +you like; it's only rather late now to take the road +again." And she smiled to show how she meant it +for a joke that an instant onward rush was what the +girl would have wished. "I bullied you into stopping," +she added; "so it serves me right." +</p><p> +Milly made in general the most of her good +friend's jokes; but she humoured this one a little +absently. "Oh yes, you do bully me." And it +was thus arranged between them, with no discussion +at all, that they would resume their journey in +the morning. The younger tourist's interest in the +detail of the matter—in spite of a declaration from +the elder that she would consent to be dragged anywhere—appeared +almost immediately afterwards +quite to lose itself; she promised, however, to think +till supper of where, with the world all before them, +they might go—supper having been ordered for +such time as permitted of lighted candles. It had +been agreed between them that lighted candles at +wayside inns, in strange countries, amid mountain +scenery, gave the evening meal a peculiar poetry—such +being the mild adventures, the refinements of +impression, that they, as they would have said, went +in for. It was now as if, before this repast, Milly +had designed to "lie down"; but at the end of +three minutes more she was not lying down, she +was saying instead, abruptly, with a transition that +was like a jump of four thousand miles: "What +was it that, in New York, on the ninth, when you +saw him alone, Dr. Finch said to you?" +</p><p> +It was not till later that Mrs. Stringham fully +knew why the question had startled her still more +than its suddenness explained; though the effect of +it even at the moment was almost to frighten her +into a false answer. She had to think, to remember +the occasion, the "ninth," in New York, the time +she had seen Dr. Finch alone, and to recall what +he had then said to her; and when everything had +come back it was quite, at first, for a moment, as +if he had said something that immensely mattered. +He hadn't, however, in fact; it was only as if he +might perhaps after all have been going to. It +was on the sixth—within ten days of their sailing—that +she had hurried from Boston under the +alarm, a small but a sufficient shock, of hearing that +Mildred had suddenly been taken ill, had had, from +some obscure cause, such an upset as threatened to +stay their journey. The bearing of the accident +had happily soon announced itself as slight, and +there had been, in the event, but a few hours of anxiety; +the journey had been pronounced again not +only possible, but, as representing "change," highly +advisable; and if the zealous guest had had five +minutes by herself with the doctor, that was, clearly, +no more at his instance than at her own. Almost +nothing had passed between them but an easy exchange +of enthusiasms in respect to the remedial +properties of "Europe"; and this assurance, as the +facts came back to her, she was now able to give. +"Nothing whatever, on my word of honour, that +you mayn't know or mightn't then have known. +I've no secret with him about you. What makes +you suspect it? I don't quite make out how you +know I did see him alone." +</p><p> +"No—you never told me," said Milly. "And I +don't mean," she went on, "during the twenty-four +hours while I was bad, when your putting your +heads together was natural enough. I mean after I +was better—the last thing before you went home." +</p><p> +Mrs. Stringham continued to wonder. "Who +told you I saw him then?" +</p><p> +<i>"He</i> didn't himself—nor did you write me it +afterwards. We speak of it now for the first time. +That's exactly why!" Milly declared—with something +in her face and voice that, the next moment, +betrayed for her companion that she had really +known nothing, had only conjectured and, chancing +her charge, made a hit. Yet why had her mind +been busy with the question? "But if you're not, +as you now assure me, in his confidence," she +smiled, "it's no matter." +</p><p> +"I'm not in his confidence, and he had nothing +to confide. But are you feeling unwell?" +</p><p> +The elder woman was earnest for the truth, +though the possibility she named was not at all the +one that seemed to fit—witness the long climb +Milly had just indulged in. The girl showed her +constant white face, but that her friends had all +learned to discount, and it was often brightest when +superficially not bravest. She continued for a little +mysteriously to smile. "I don't know—haven't +really the least idea. But it might be well to find +out." +</p><p> +Mrs. Stringham, at this, flared into sympathy. +"Are you in trouble—in pain?" +</p><p> +"Not the least little bit. But I sometimes wonder——!" +</p><p> +"Yes"—she pressed: "wonder what?" +</p><p> +"Well, if I shall have much of it." +</p><p> +Mrs. Stringham stared. "Much of what? Not +of pain?" +</p><p> +"Of everything. Of everything I have." +</p><p> +Anxiously again, tenderly, our friend cast about. +"You 'have' everything; so that when you say +'much' of it——" +</p><p> +"I only mean," the girl broke in, "shall I have +it for long? That is if I <i>have</i> got it." +</p><p> +She had at present the effect, a little, of confounding, +or at least of perplexing her comrade, who was +touched, who was always touched, by something +helpless in her grace and abrupt in her turns, and +yet actually half made out in her a sort of mocking +light. "If you've got an ailment?" +</p><p> +"If I've got everything," Milly laughed. +</p><p> +"Ah, <i>that</i>—like almost nobody else." +</p><p> +"Then for how long?" +</p><p> +Mrs. Stringham's eyes entreated her; she had +gone close to her, half enclosed her with urgent +arms. "Do you want to see some one?" And +then as the girl only met it with a slow headshake, +though looking perhaps a shade more conscious: +"We'll go straight to the best near doctor." This +too, however, produced but a gaze of qualified assent +and a silence, sweet and vague, that left everything +open. Our friend decidedly lost herself. +"Tell me, for God's sake, if you're in distress." +</p><p> +"I don't think I've really <i>everything,"</i> Milly said +as if to explain—and as if also to put it pleasantly. +</p><p> +"But what on earth can I do for you?" +The girl hesitated, then seemed on the point of +being able to say; but suddenly changed and expressed +herself otherwise. "Dear, dear thing—I'm +only too happy!" +</p><p> +It brought them closer, but it rather confirmed +Mrs. Stringham's doubt. "Then what's the matter?" +</p><p> +"That's the matter—that I can scarcely bear it." +</p><p> +"But what is it you think you haven't got?" +</p><p> +Milly waited another moment; then she found it, +and found for it a dim show of joy. "The power +to resist the bliss of what I <i>have!"</i> +</p><p> +Mrs. Stringham took it in—her sense of being +"put off" with it, the possible, probable irony +of it—and her tenderness renewed itself in the positive +grimness of a long murmur. "Whom will +you see?"—for it was as if they looked down from +their height at a continent of doctors. "Where +will you first go?" +</p><p> +Milly had for the third time her air of consideration; +but she came back with it to her plea of some +minutes before. "I'll tell you at supper—good-bye +till then." And she left the room with a lightness +that testified for her companion to something +that again particularly pleased her in the renewed +promise of motion. The odd passage just concluded, +Mrs. Stringham mused as she once more sat +alone with a hooked needle and a ball of silk, the +"fine" work with which she was always provided—this +mystifying mood had simply been precipitated, +no doubt, by their prolonged halt, with which +the girl hadn't really been in sympathy. One had +only to admit that her complaint was in fact but the +excess of the joy of life, and everything <i>did</i> then +fit. She couldn't stop for the joy, but she could +go on for it, and with the sense of going on she +floated again, was restored to her great spaces. +There was no evasion of any truth—so at least +Susan Shepherd hoped—in one's sitting there while +the twilight deepened and feeling still more finely +that the position of this young lady was magnificent. +The evening at that height had naturally +turned to cold, and the travellers had bespoken a +fire with their meal; the great Alpine road asserted +its brave presence through the small panes of the +low, clean windows, with incidents at the inn-door, +the yellow <i>diligence,</i> the great waggons, the hurrying, +hooded, private conveyances, reminders, for +our fanciful friend, of old stories, old pictures, historic +flights, escapes, pursuits, things that had happened, +things indeed that by a sort of strange congruity +helped her to read the meanings of the +greatest interest into the relation in which she was +now so deeply involved. It was natural that this +record of the magnificence of her companion's position +should strike her as, after all, the best meaning +she could extract; for she herself was seated in +the magnificence as in a court-carriage—she came +back to that, and such a method of progression, +such a view from crimson cushions, would evidently +have a great deal more to give. By the time the +candles were lighted for supper and the short, white +curtains were drawn, Milly had reappeared, and the +little scenic room had then all its romance. That +charm moreover was far from broken by the words +in which she, without further loss of time, satisfied +her patient mate. "I want to go straight to London." +</p><p> +It was unexpected, corresponding with no view +positively taken at their departure; when England +had appeared, on the contrary, rather relegated and +postponed—seen for the moment, as who should +say, at the end of an avenue of preparations and introductions. +London, in short, might have been +supposed to be the crown, and to be achieved like a +siege by gradual approaches. Milly's actual fine +stride was therefore the more exciting, as any simplification +almost always was to Mrs. Stringham; +who, besides, was afterwards to recall as the very +beginning of a drama the terms in which, between +their smoky candles, the girl had put her preference +and in which still other things had come up, come +while the clank of waggon-chains in the sharp air +reached their ears, with the stamp of hoofs, the rattle +of buckets and the foreign questions, foreign +answers, that were all alike a part of the cheery converse +of the road. The girl brought it out in truth +as she might have brought a huge confession, something +she admitted herself shy about and that would +seem to show her as frivolous; it had rolled over +her that what she wanted of Europe was "people," +so far as they were to be had, and that if her friend +really wished to know, the vision of this same equivocal +quantity was what had haunted her during +their previous days, in museums and churches, and +what was again spoiling for her the pure taste of +scenery. She was all for scenery—yes; but she +wanted it human and personal, and all she could say +was that there would be in London—wouldn't +there? more of that kind than anywhere else. She +came back to her idea that if it wasn't for long—if +nothing should happen to be so for <i>her</i>—why, the +particular thing she spoke of would probably have +most to give her in the time, would probably be +less than anything else a waste of her remainder. +She produced this last consideration indeed with +such gaiety that Mrs. Stringham was not again disconcerted +by it, was in fact quite ready—if talk of +early dying was in order—to match it from her own +future. Good, then; they would, eat and drink because +of what might happen to-morrow; and they +would direct their course from that moment with a +view to such eating and drinking. They ate and +drank that night, in truth, as if in the spirit of this +decision; whereby the air, before they separated, +felt itself the clearer. +</p><p> +It had cleared perhaps to a view only too extensive—extensive, +that is, in proportion to the signs +of life presented. The idea of "people" was not +so entertained on Milly's part as to connect itself +with particular persons, and the fact remained for +each of the ladies that they would, completely unknown, +disembark at Dover amid the completely +unknowing. They had no relation already formed; +this plea Mrs. Stringham put forward to see what it +would produce. It produced nothing at first but +the observation on the girl's side that what she had +in mind was no thought of society nor of scraping +acquaintance; nothing was further from her than +to desire the opportunities represented for the compatriot +in general by a trunkful of "letters." It +wasn't a question, in short, of the people the compatriot +was after; it was the human, the English +picture itself, as they might see it in their own way—the +world imagined always in what one had read +and dreamed. Mrs. Stringham did every justice to +this world, but when later on an occasion chanced +to present itself, she made a point of not omitting +to remark that it might be a comfort to know in +advance even an individual. This still, however, +failed in vulgar parlance, to "fetch" Milly, so that +she had presently to go all the way. "Haven't I +understood from you, for that matter, that you gave +Mr. Densher something of a promise?" +</p><p> +There was a moment, on this, when Milly's look +had to be taken as representing one of two things—either +that she was completely vague about the +promise or that Mr. Densher's name itself started +no train. But she really couldn't be so vague about +the promise, her interlocutress quickly saw, without +attaching it to something; it had to be a promise +to somebody in particular to be so repudiated. In +the event, accordingly, she acknowledged Mr. Merton +Densher, the so unusually clever young Englishman +who had made his appearance in New York +on some special literary business—wasn't it?—shortly +before their departure, and who had been +three or four times in her house during the +brief period between her visit to Boston and her +companion's subsequent stay with her; but she required +much reminding before it came back to her +that she had mentioned to this companion just +afterwards the confidence expressed by the personage +in question in her never doing so dire a thing +as to come to London without, as the phrase was, +looking a fellow up. She had left him the enjoyment +of his confidence, the form of which might have +appeared a trifle free—that she now reasserted; she +had done nothing either to impair or to enhance it; +but she had also left Mrs. Stringham, in the connection +and at the time, rather sorry to have missed Mr. +Densher. She had thought of him again after that, +the elder woman; she had likewise gone so far as to +notice that Milly appeared not to have done so—which +the girl might easily have betrayed; and, interested +as she was in everything that concerned +her, she had made out for herself, for herself only +and rather idly, that, but for interruptions, the +young Englishman might have become a better acquaintance. +His being an acquaintance at all was +one of the signs that in the first days had helped to +place Milly, as a young person with the world before +her, for sympathy and wonder. Isolated, unmothered, +unguarded, but with her other strong +marks, her big house, her big fortune, her big freedom, +she had lately begun to "receive," for all her +few years, as an older woman might have done—as +was done, precisely, by princesses who had public +considerations to observe and who came of age +very early. If it was thus distinct to Mrs. Stringham +then that Mr. Densher had gone off somewhere +else in connection with his errand before her +visit to New York, it had been also not undiscoverable +that he had come back for a day or two later on, +that is after her own second excursion—that he had +in fine reappeared on a single occasion on his way +to the West: his way from Washington as she believed, +though he was out of sight at the time of her +joining her friend for their departure. It had not +occurred to her before to exaggerate—it had not +occurred to her that she could; but she seemed to +become aware to-night that there had been just +enough in this relation to meet, to provoke, the +free conception of a little more. +</p><p> +She presently put it that, at any rate, promise or +no promise, Milly would, at a pinch, be able, in +London, to act on his permission to make him a +sign; to which Milly replied with readiness that her +ability, though evident, would be none the less quite +wasted, inasmuch as the gentleman would, to a certainty, +be still in America. He had a great deal to +do there—which he would scarce have begun; and +in fact she might very well not have thought of +London at all if she hadn't been sure he wasn't yet +near coming back. It was perceptible to her companion +that the moment our young woman had so +far committed herself she had a sense of having +overstepped; which was not quite patched up by +her saying the next minute, possibly with a certain +failure of presence of mind, that the last thing she +desired was the air of running after him. Mrs. +Stringham wondered privately what question there +could be of any such appearance—the danger of +which thus suddenly came up; but she said, for the +time, nothing of it—she only said other things: one +of which was, for instance, that if Mr. Densher was +away he was away, and that this was the end of it; +also that of course they must be discreet at any +price. But what was the measure of discretion, +and how was one to be sure? So it was that, as +they sat there, she produced her own case: <i>she</i> had +a possible tie with London, which she desired as +little to disown as she might wish to risk presuming +on it. She treated her companion, in short, for +their evening's end, to the story of Maud Manningham, +the odd but interesting English girl who had +formed her special affinity in the old days at the +Vevey school; whom she had written to, after their +separation, with a regularity that had at first faltered +and then altogether failed, yet that had been for +the time quite a fine case of crude constancy; so +that it had in fact flickered up again of itself on the +occasion of the marriage of each. They had then +once more fondly, scrupulously written—Mrs. +Lowder first; and even another letter or two had +afterwards passed. This, however, had been the +end—though with no rupture, only a gentle drop: +Maud Manningham had made, she believed, a great +marriage, while she herself had made a small; on +top of which, moreover, distance, difference, diminished +community and impossible reunion had done +the rest of the work. It was but after all these years +that reunion had begun to show as possible—if the +other party to it, that is, should be still in existence. +That was exactly what it now struck our friend as +interesting to ascertain, as, with one aid and another, +she believed she might. It was an experiment +she would at all events now make if Milly +didn't object. +</p><p> +Milly in general objected to nothing, and, though +she asked a question or two, she raised no +present plea. Her questions—or at least her own +answers to them—kindled, on Mrs. Stringham's +part, a backward train: she hadn't known till tonight +how much she remembered, or how fine it +might be to see what had become of large, high-coloured +Maud, florid, exotic and alien—which had +been just the spell—even to the perceptions of +youth. There was the danger—she frankly touched +it—that such a temperament mightn't have matured, +with the years, all in the sense of fineness; +it was the sort of danger that, in renewing relations +after long breaks, one had always to look in the face. +To gather in strayed threads was to take a risk—for +which, however, she was prepared if Milly was. +The possible "fun," she confessed, was by itself +rather tempting; and she fairly sounded, with this—wound +up a little as she was—the note of fun as +the harmless final right of fifty years of mere New +England virtue. Among the things she was afterwards +to recall was the indescribable look dropped +on her, at this, by her companion; she was still +seated there between the candles and before the +finished supper, while Milly moved about, and the +look was long to figure for her as an inscrutable +comment on <i>her</i> notion of freedom. Challenged, +at any rate, as for the last wise word, Milly showed +perhaps, musingly, charmingly, that, though her +attention had been mainly soundless, her friend's +story—produced as a resource unsuspected, a card +from up the sleeve—half surprised, half beguiled +her. Since the matter, such as it was, depended on +that, she brought out, before she went to bed, an +easy, a light "Risk everything!" +</p><p> +This quality in it seemed possibly a little to deny +weight to Maud Lowder's evoked presence—as +Susan Stringham, still sitting up, became, in excited +reflection, a trifle more conscious. Something determinant, +when the girl had left her, took place in +her—nameless but, as soon as she had given way, +coercive. It was as if she knew again, in this fulness +of time, that she had been, after Maud's marriage, +just sensibly outlived or, as people nowadays +said, shunted. Mrs. Lowder had left her behind, +and on the occasion, subsequently, of the corresponding +date in her own life—not the second, the +sad one, with its dignity of sadness, but the first, +with the meagreness of its supposed felicity—she +had been, in the same spirit, almost patronisingly +pitied. If that suspicion, even when it had ceased +to matter, had never quite died out for her, there +was doubtless some oddity in its now offering itself +as a link, rather than as another break, in the chain; +and indeed there might well have been for her a +mood in which the notion of the development of +patronage in her quondam schoolmate would have +settled her question in another sense. It was actually +settled—if the case be worth our analysis—by +the happy consummation, the poetic justice, the +generous revenge, of her having at last something +to show. Maud, on their parting company, had +appeared to have so much, and would now—for +wasn't it also, in general, quite the rich law of English +life?—have, with accretions, promotions, expansions, +ever so much more. Very good; such +things might be; she rose to the sense of being +ready for them. Whatever Mrs. Lowder might +have to show—and one hoped one did the presumptions +all justice—she would have nothing like Milly +Theale, who constituted the trophy producible by +poor Susan. Poor Susan lingered late—till the +candles were low, and as soon as the table was +cleared she opened her neat portfolio. She had not +lost the old clue; there were connections she remembered, +addresses she could try; so the thing +was to begin. She wrote on the spot. +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">BOOK FOURTH</h2> +<br> +<h2 align="center">VII</h2> +<br> +<p> +It had all gone so fast after this that Milly uttered +but the truth nearest to hand in saying to the +gentleman on her right—who was, by the same +token, the gentleman on her hostess's left—that she +scarce even then knew where she was: the words +marking her first full sense of a situation really romantic. +They were already dining, she and her +friend, at Lancaster Gate, and surrounded, as it +seemed to her, with every English accessory; though +her consciousness of Mrs. Lowder's existence, and +still more of her remarkable identity, had been of so +recent and so sudden a birth. Susie, as she was apt +to call her companion for a lighter change, had only +had to wave a neat little wand for the fairy-tale to +begin at once; in consequence of which Susie now +glittered—for, with Mrs. Stringham's new sense of +success, it came to that—in the character of a fairy +godmother. Milly had almost insisted on dressing +her, for the present occasion, as one; and it was no +fault of the girl's if the good lady had not now appeared +in a peaked hat, a short petticoat and diamond +shoe-buckles, brandishing the magic crutch. +The good lady, in truth, bore herself not less contentedly +than if these insignia had marked her +work; and Milly's observation to Lord Mark had +just been, doubtless, the result of such a light exchange +of looks with her as even the great length +of the table had not baffled. There were twenty +persons between them, but this sustained passage +was the sharpest sequel yet to that other comparison +of views during the pause on the Swiss pass. +It almost appeared to Milly that their fortune had +been unduly precipitated—as if, properly, they were +in the position of having ventured on a small joke +and found the answer out of proportion grave. +She could not at this moment, for instance, have +said whether, with her quickened perceptions, she +were more enlivened or oppressed; and the case +might in fact have been serious had she not, by +good fortune, from the moment the picture loomed, +quickly made up her mind that what finally most +concerned her was neither to seek nor to shirk, +was not even to wonder too much, but was to let +things come as they would, since there was little +enough doubt of how they would go. +</p><p> +Lord Mark had been brought to her before dinner—not +by Mrs. Lowder, but by the handsome +girl, that lady's niece, who was now at the other +end and on the same side as Susie; he had taken +her in, and she meant presently to ask him about +Miss Croy, the handsome girl, actually offered to +her sight—though now in a splendid way—but for +the second time. The first time had been the occasion—only +three days before—of her calling at +their hotel with her aunt and then making, for our +other two heroines, a great impression of beauty +and eminence. This impression had remained so +with Milly that, at present, and although her attention +was aware at the same time of everything +else, her eyes were mainly engaged with Kate +Croy when not engaged with Susie. That wonderful +creature's eyes moreover readily met them—she +ranked now as a wonderful creature; and +it seemed a part of the swift prosperity of the +American visitors that, so little in the original reckoning, +she should yet appear conscious, charmingly, +frankly conscious, of possibilities of friendship for +them. Milly had easily and, as a guest, gracefully +generalised: English girls had a special, strong +beauty, and it particularly showed in evening dress—above +all when, as was strikingly the case with +this one, the dress itself was what it should be. +That observation she had all ready for Lord Mark +when they should, after a little, get round to it. +She seemed even now to see that there might be a +good deal they would get round to; the indication +being that, taken up once for all with her other +neighbour, their hostess would leave them much to +themselves. Mrs. Lowder's other neighbour was +the Bishop of Murrum—a real bishop, such as Milly +had never seen, with a complicated costume, a voice +like an old-fashioned wind instrument, and a face +all the portrait of a prelate; while the gentleman on +our young lady's left, a gentleman thick-necked, +large and literal, who looked straight before him +and as if he were not to be diverted by vain words +from that pursuit, clearly counted as an offset to +the possession of Lord Mark. As Milly made out +these things—with a shade of exhilaration at the +way she already fell in—she saw how she was justified +of her plea for people and her love of life. It +wasn't then, as the prospect seemed to show, so difficult +to get into the current, or to stand, at any +rate, on the bank. It was easy to get near—if they +<i>were</i> near; and yet the elements were different +enough from any of her old elements, and positively +rich and strange. +</p><p> +She asked herself if her right-hand neighbour +would understand what she meant by such a description +of them, should she throw it off; but another +of the things to which, precisely, her sense +was awakened was that no, decidedly, he wouldn't. +It was nevertheless by this time open to her that +his line would be to be clever; and indeed, evidently, +no little of the interest was going to be in +the fresh reference and fresh effect both of people's +cleverness and of their simplicity. She thrilled, she +consciously flushed, and turned pale with the certitude—it +had never been so present—that she +should find herself completely involved: the very +air of the place, the pitch of the occasion, had for +her so positive a taste and so deep an undertone. +The smallest things, the faces, the hands, the jewels +of the women, the sound of words, especially of +names, across the table, the shape of the forks, the +arrangement of the flowers, the attitude of the servants, +the walls of the room, were all touches in a +picture and denotements in a play; and they marked +for her, moreover, her alertness of vision. She had +never, she might well believe, been in such a state +of vibration; her sensibility was almost too sharp +for her comfort: there were, for example, more indications +than she could reduce to order in the manner +of the friendly niece, who struck her as distinguished +and interesting, as in fact surprisingly +genial. This young woman's type had, visibly, +other possibilities; yet here, of its own free movement, +it had already sketched a relation. Were +they, Miss Croy and she, to take up the tale where +their two elders had left it off so many years before?—were +they to find they liked each other and to +try for themselves if a scheme of constancy on more +modern lines could be worked? She had doubted, +as they came to England, of Maud Manningham, +had believed her a broken reed and a vague resource, +had seen their dependence on her as a state +of mind that would have been shamefully silly—so +far as it <i>was</i> dependence—had they wished to do +any thing so inane as "get into society." To have +made their pilgrimage all for the sake of such society +as Mrs. Lowder might have in reserve for them—that +didn't bear thinking of at all, and she herself +had quite chosen her course for curiosity about +other matters. She would have described this curiosity +as a desire to see the places she had read about, +and <i>that</i> description of her motive she was prepared +to give her neighbour—even though, as a consequence +of it, he should find how little she had read. +It was almost at present as if her poor prevision had +been rebuked by the majesty—she could scarcely +call it less—of the event, or at all events by the commanding +character of the two figures—she could +scarcely call <i>that</i> less either—mainly presented. +Mrs. Lowder and her niece, however dissimilar, had +at least in common that each was a great reality. +That was true, primarily, of the aunt—so true that +Milly wondered how her own companion had arrived, +in other days, at so odd an alliance; yet she +none the less felt Mrs. Lowder as a person of whom +the mind might in two or three days roughly make +the circuit. She would sit there massive, at least, +while one attempted it; whereas Miss Croy, the +handsome girl, would indulge in incalculable movements +that might interfere with one's tour. She +was real, none the less, and everything and everybody +were real; and it served them right, no doubt, +the pair of them, for having rushed into their adventure. +</p><p> +Lord Mark's intelligence meanwhile, however, +had met her own quite sufficiently to enable him to +tell her how little he could clear up her situation. +He explained, for that matter—or at least he hinted—that +there was no such thing, to-day in London, +as saying where any one was. Every one was +everywhere—nobody was anywhere. He should +be put to it—yes, frankly—to give a name of any +sort or kind to their hostess's "set." <i>Was</i> it a set +at all, or wasn't it, and were there not really no such +things as sets, in the place, any more?—was there +any thing but the senseless shifting tumble, like +that of some great greasy sea in mid-Channel, of +an overwhelming melted mixture? He threw out +the question, which seemed large; Milly felt that +at the end of five minutes he had thrown out a great +many, though he followed none more than a step or +two; perhaps he would prove suggestive, but he +helped her as yet to no discriminations: he spoke +as if he had given them up from too much knowledge. +He was thus at the opposite extreme from +herself, but, as a consequence of it, also wandering +and lost; and he was furthermore, for all his temporary +incoherence, to which she guessed there +would be some key, as great a reality as either Mrs. +Lowder or Kate. The only light in which he +placed the former of these ladies was that of +an extraordinary woman—a most extraordinary +woman, and "the more extraordinary the more one +knows her," while of the latter he said nothing, for +the moment, but that she was tremendously, yes, +quite tremendously, good-looking. It was some +time, she thought, before his talk showed his cleverness, +and yet each minute she believed in it more, +quite apart from what her hostess had told her on +first naming him. Perhaps he was one of the cases +she had heard of at home—those characteristic +cases of people in England who concealed their play +of mind so much more than they showed it. Even +Mr. Densher a little did that. And what made Lord +Mark, at any rate, so real either, when this was a +thing he so definitely insisted on? His type some +how, as by a life, a need, an intention of its own, insisted +<i>for</i> him; but that was all. It was difficult to +guess his age—whether he were a young man who +looked old or an old man who looked young; it +seemed to prove nothing, as against other things, +that he was bald and, as might have been said, +slightly stale, or, more delicately perhaps, dry: +there was such a fine little fidget of preoccupied life +in him, and his eyes, at moments—though it was an +appearance they could suddenly lose—were as candid +and clear as those of a pleasant boy. Very neat, +very light, and so fair that there was little other indication +of his moustache than his constantly feeling +it—which was again boyish—he would have +affected her as the most intellectual person present +if he had not affected her as the most frivolous. +The latter quality was rather in his look than in anything +else, though he constantly wore his double +eyeglass, which was, much more, Bostonian and +thoughtful. +</p><p> +The idea of his frivolity had, no doubt, to do with +his personal designation, which represented—as yet, +for our young woman, a little confusedly—a connection +with an historic patriciate, a class that, in +turn, also confusedly, represented an affinity with a +social element that she had never heard otherwise +described than as "fashion." The supreme social +element in New York had never known itself but +as reduced to that category, and though Milly was +aware that, as applied to a territorial and political +aristocracy, the label was probably too simple, she +had for the time none other at hand. She presently, +it is true, enriched her idea with the perception +that her interlocutor was indifferent; yet this, indifferent +as aristocracies notoriously were, saw her but +little further, inasmuch as she felt that, in the first +place, he would much rather get on with her than +not, and in the second was only thinking of too +many matters of his own. If he kept her in view +on the one hand and kept so much else on the other—the +way he crumbed up his bread was a proof—why +did he hover before her as a potentially insolent +noble? She couldn't have answered the question, +and it was precisely one of those that swarmed. +They were complicated, she might fairly have said, +by his visibly knowing, having known from afar off, +that she was a stranger and an American, and by +his none the less making no more of it than if she +and her like were the chief of his diet. He took +her, kindly enough, but imperturbably, irreclaimably, +for granted, and it wouldn't in the least help +that she herself knew him, as quickly, for having +been in her country and threshed it out. There +would be nothing for her to explain or attenuate +or brag about; she could neither escape nor prevail +by her strangeness; he would have, for that matter, +on such a subject, more to tell her than to learn +from her. She might learn from <i>him</i> why she was +so different from the handsome girl—which she +didn't know, being merely able to feel it; or at any +rate might learn from him why the handsome girl +was so different from her. +</p><p> +On these lines, however, they would move later; +the lines immediately laid down were, in spite of his +vagueness for his own convenience, definite enough. +She was already, he observed to her, thinking what +she should say on her other side—which was what +Americans were always doing. She needn't in conscience +say anything at all; but Americans never +knew that, nor ever, poor creatures, yes (<i>she</i> had +interposed the "poor creatures!") what not to do. +The burdens they took on—the things, positively, +they made an affair of! This easy and, after all, +friendly jibe at her race was really for her, on her +new friend's part, the note of personal recognition +so far as she required it; and she gave him a prompt +and conscious example of morbid anxiety by insisting +that her desire to be, herself, "lovely" all round +was justly founded on the lovely way Mrs. Lowder +had met her. He was directly interested in that, +and it was not till afterwards that she fully knew +how much more information about their friend he +had taken than given. Here again, for instance, +was a pertinent note for her: she had, on the spot, +with her first plunge into the obscure depths of a +society constituted from far back, encountered the +interesting phenomenon of complicated, of possibly +sinister motive. However, Maud Manningham +(her name, even in her presence, somehow still fed +the fancy) <i>had,</i> all the same, been lovely, and one +was going to meet her now quite as far on as one +had one's self been met. She had been with them +at their hotel—they were a pair—before even they +had supposed she could have got their letter. Of +course indeed they had written in advance, but they +had followed that up very fast. She had thus engaged +them to dine but two days later, and on the +morrow again, without waiting for a return visit, +waiting for anything, she had called with her niece. +It was as if she really cared for them, and it was +magnificent fidelity—fidelity to Mrs. Stringham, +her own companion and Mrs. Lowder's former +schoolmate, the lady with the charming face and the +rather high dress down there at the end. +</p><p> +Lord Mark took in through his nippers these +balanced attributes of Susie. "But isn't Mrs. +Stringham's fidelity then equally magnificent?" +</p><p> +"Well, it's a beautiful sentiment; but it isn't as +if she had anything to <i>give."</i> +</p><p> +"Hasn't she got you?" Lord Mark presently +asked. +</p><p> +"Me—to give Mrs. Lowder?" Milly had clearly not +yet seen herself in the light of such an offering. +"Oh, I'm rather a poor present; and I don't +feel as if, even at that, I've as yet quite been given." +</p><p> +"You've been shown, and if our friend has +jumped at you it comes to the same thing." He +made his jokes, Lord Mark, without amusement +for himself; yet it wasn't that he was grim. "To +be seen you must recognise, <i>is,</i> for you, to be +jumped at; and, if it's a question of being shown, +here you are again. Only it has now been taken +out of your friend's hands; it's Mrs. Lowder, already, +who's getting the benefit. Look round the +table and you'll make out, I think, that you're being, +from top to bottom, jumped at." +</p><p> +"Well, then," said Milly, "I seem also to feel +that I like it better than being made fun of." +</p><p> +It was one of the things she afterwards saw—Milly +was for ever seeing things afterwards—that +her companion had here had some way of his own, +quite unlike any one's else, of assuring her of his +consideration. She wondered how he had done it, +for he had neither apologised nor protested. She +said to herself, at any rate, that he had led her on; +and what was most odd was the question by which he +had done so. "Does she know much about you?" +</p><p> +"No, she just likes us." +</p><p> +Even for this his travelled lordship, seasoned and +saturated, had no laugh. "I mean <i>you</i> particularly. +Has that lady with the charming face, which +<i>is</i> charming, told her?" +</p><p> +Milly hesitated. "Told her what?" +</p><p> +"Everything." +</p><p> +This, with the way he dropped it, again considerably +moved her—made her feel for a moment that, +as a matter of course, she was a subject for disclosures. +But she quickly found her answer. "Oh, as +for that, you must ask <i>her."</i> +</p><p> +"Your clever companion?" +</p><p> +"Mrs. Lowder." +</p><p> +He replied to this that their hostess was a person +with whom there were certain liberties one never +took, but that he was none the less fairly upheld, +inasmuch as she was for the most part kind to him +and as, should he be very good for a while, she +would probably herself tell him. "And I shall +have, at any rate, in the meantime, the interest of +seeing what she does with you. That will teach +me more or less, you see, how much she knows." +</p><p> +Milly followed this—it was lucid; but it suggested +something apart. "How much does she know +about <i>you?"</i> +</p><p> +"Nothing," said Lord Mark serenely. "But +that doesn't matter—for what she does with me." +And then, as to anticipate Milly's question about +the nature of such doing: "This, for instance—turning +me straight on for <i>you."</i> +</p><p> +The girl thought. "And you mean she wouldn't +if she did know——?" +</p><p> +He met it as if it were really a point. "No. I +believe, to do her justice, she still would. So you +can be easy." +</p><p> +Milly had the next instant, then, acted on the +permission. "Because you're even at the worst +the best thing she has?" +</p><p> +With this he was at last amused. "I was till you +came. You're the best now." +</p><p> +It was strange his words should have given her +the sense of his knowing, but it was positive that +they did so, and to the extent of making her believe +them, though still with wonder. That, really, from +this first of their meetings, was what was most to +abide with her: she accepted almost helplessly, she +surrendered to the inevitability of being the sort of +thing, as he might have said, that he at least thoroughly +believed he had, in going about, seen here +enough of for all practical purposes. Her submission +was naturally, moreover, not to be impaired by +her learning later on that he had paid at short intervals, +though at a time apparently just previous to +her own emergence from the obscurity of extreme +youth, three separate visits to New York, where his +nameable friends and his contrasted contacts had +been numerous. His impression, his recollection of +the whole mixed quantity, was still visibly rich. It +had helped him to place her, and she was more and +more sharply conscious of having—as with the door +sharply slammed upon her and the guard's hand +raised in signal to the train—been popped into the +compartment in which she was to travel for him. +It was a use of her that many a girl would have been +doubtless quick to resent; and the kind of mind that +thus, in our young lady, made all for mere seeing and +taking is precisely one of the charms of our subject. +Milly had practically just learned from him, had +made out, as it were, from her rumbling compartment, +that he gave her the highest place among their +friend's actual properties. She was a success, that +was what it came to, he presently assured her, and +that was what it was to be a success: it always happened +before one could know it. One's ignorance +was in fact often the greatest part of it. "You +haven't had time yet," he said; "this is nothing. +But you'll see. You'll see everything. You can, +you know—everything you dream of." +</p><p> +He made her more and more wonder; she almost +felt as if he were showing her visions while he spoke; +and strangely enough, though it was visions that had +drawn her on, she hadn't seen them in connection—that +is in such preliminary and necessary connection—with +such a face as Lord Mark's, such eyes and +such a voice, such a tone and such a manner. He +had for an instant the effect of making her ask herself +if she were after all going to be afraid; so distinct +was it for fifty seconds that a fear passed over +her. There they were again—yes, certainly: Susie's +overture to Mrs. Lowder had been their joke, but +they had pressed in that gaiety an electric bell that +continued to sound. Positively, while she sat there, +she had the loud rattle in her ears, and she wondered, +during these moments, why the others didn't hear it. +They didn't stare, they didn't smile, and the fear in +her that I speak of was but her own desire to stop it. +That dropped, however, as if the alarm itself had +ceased; she seemed to have seen in a quick, though +tempered glare that there were two courses for her, +one to leave London again the first thing in the morning, +the other to do nothing at all. Well, she would +do nothing at all; she was already doing it; more +than that, she had already done it, and her chance +was gone. She gave herself up—she had the +strangest sense, on the spot, of so deciding; for she +had turned a corner before she went on again with +Lord Mark. Inexpressive, but intensely significant, +he met as no one else could have done the very question +she had suddenly put to Mrs. Stringham on the +Brünig. Should she have it, whatever she did have, +that question had been, for long? "Ah, so possibly +not," her neighbour appeared to reply; "therefore, +don't you see? <i>I'm</i> the way." It was vivid that he +might be, in spite of his absence of flourish; the way +being doubtless just <i>in</i> that absence. The handsome +girl, whom she didn't lose sight of and who, she felt, +kept her also in view—Mrs. Lowder's striking niece +would, perhaps, be the way as well, for in her too +was the absence of flourish, though she had little else, +so far as one could tell, in common with Lord Mark. +Yet how indeed <i>could</i> one tell, what did one understand, +and of what was one, for that matter, provisionally +conscious but of their being somehow together +in what they represented? Kate Croy, fine +but friendly, looked over at her as really with a guess +at Lord Mark's effect on her. If she could guess +this effect what then did she know about it and in +what degree had she felt it herself? Did that represent, +as between them, anything particular, and +should she have to count with them as duplicating, +as intensifying by a mutual intelligence, the relation +into which she was sinking? Nothing was so odd +as that she should have to recognise so quickly in +each of these glimpses of an instant the various signs +of a relation; and this anomaly itself, had she had +more time to give to it, might well, might almost terribly +have suggested to her that her doom was to live +fast. It was queerly a question of the short run and +the consciousness proportionately crowded. +</p><p> +These were immense excursions for the spirit of +a young person at Mrs. Lowder's mere dinner-party; +but what was so significant and so admonitory as the +fact of their being possible? What could they have +been but just a part, already, of the crowded consciousness? +And it was just a part, likewise, that +while plates were changed and dishes presented and +periods in the banquet marked; while appearances +insisted and phenomena multiplied and words +reached her from here and there like plashes of a +slow, thick tide; while Mrs. Lowder grew somehow +more stout and more instituted and Susie, at her +distance and in comparison, more thinly improvised +and more different—different, that is, from every +one and everything: it was just a part that while +this process went forward our young lady alighted, +came back, taking up her destiny again as if she had +been able by a wave or two of her wings to place +herself briefly in sight of an alternative to it. Whatever +it was it had showed in this brief interval as +better than the alternative; and it now presented itself +altogether in the image and in the place in which +she had left it. The image was that of her being, +as Lord Mark had declared, a success. This depended +more or less of course on his idea of the thing—into +which at present, however, she wouldn't go. +But, renewing soon, she had asked him what he +meant then that Mrs. Lowder would do with her, +and he had replied that this might safely be left. +"She'll get back," he pleasantly said, "her money." +He could say it too—which was singular—without +affecting her either as vulgar or as "nasty "; and +he had soon explained himself by adding: "Nobody +here, you know, does anything for nothing." +</p><p> +"Ah, if you mean that we shall reward her as +hard as ever we can, nothing is more certain. But +she's an idealist," Milly continued, "and idealists, +in the long run, I think, <i>don't</i> feel that they +lose." +</p><p> +Lord Mark seemed, within the limits of his enthusiasm, +to find this charming. "Ah, she strikes +you as an idealist?" +</p><p> +"She idealises <i>us,</i> my friend and me, absolutely. +She sees us in a light," said Milly. "That's all I've +got to hold on by. So don't deprive me of it." +</p><p> +"I wouldn't for the world. But do you think," he +continued as if it were suddenly important for him—"do +you think she sees <i>me</i> in a light?" +</p><p> +She neglected his question for a little, partly because +her attention attached itself more and more to +the handsome girl, partly because, placed so near +their hostess, she wished not to show as discussing +her too freely. Mrs. Lowder, it was true, steering +in the other quarter a course in which she called at +subjects as if they were islets in an archipelago, continued +to allow them their ease, and Kate Croy, at +the same time, steadily revealed herself as interesting. +Milly in fact found, of a sudden, her ease—found +it all—as she bethought herself that what Mrs. +Lowder was really arranging for was a report on +her quality and, as perhaps might be said, her value +from Lord Mark. She wished him, the wonderful +lady, to have no pretext for not knowing what he +thought of Miss Theale. Why his judgment so +mattered remained to be seen; but it was this divination, +in any case, that now determined Milly's rejoinder. +"No. She knows you. She has probably +reason to. And you all, here, know each other—I +see that—so far as you know anything. You +know what you're used to, and it's your being used +to it—that, and that only—that makes you. But +there are things you don't know." +</p><p> +He took it in as if it might fairly, to do him justice, +be a point. "Things that <i>I</i> don't—with all the +pains I take and the way I've run about the world +to leave nothing unlearned?" +</p><p> +Milly thought, and it was perhaps the very truth +of his claim—its not being negligible—that sharpened +her impatience and thereby her wit. "You're +<i>blasé,</i> but you're not enlightened. You're familiar +with everything, but conscious, really of nothing. +What I mean is that you've no imagination." +</p><p> +Lord Mark, at this, threw back his head, ranging +with his eyes the opposite side of the room and +showing himself at last so much more completely +as diverted that it fairly attracted their hostess's notice. +Mrs. Lowder, however, only smiled on Milly +for a sign that something racy was what she had +expected, and resumed, with a splash of her screw, +her cruise among the islands. "Oh, I've heard +that," the young man replied, "before!" +</p><p> +"There it is then. You've heard everything before. +You've heard <i>me</i> of course before, in my +country, often enough." +</p><p> +"Oh, never too often," he protested; "I'm sure +I hope I shall still hear you again and again." +</p><p> +"But what good then has it done you?" the girl +went on as if now frankly to amuse him. +</p><p> +"Oh, you'll see when you know me." +</p><p> +"But, most assuredly, I shall never know you." +</p><p> +"Then that will be exactly," he laughed, "the +good!" +</p><p> +If it established thus that they couldn't, or +Wouldn't, mix, why, none the less, did Milly feel, +through it, a perverse quickening of the relation to +which she had been, in spite of herself, appointed? +</p><p> +What queerer consequence of their not mixing than +their talking—for it was what they had arrived at—almost +intimately? She wished to get away from +him, or indeed, much rather, away from herself so +far as she was present to him. She saw already—wonderful +creature, after all, herself too—that there +would be a good deal more of him to come for her, +and that the special sign of their intercourse would +be to keep herself out of the question. Everything +else might come in—only never that; and with such +an arrangement they might even go far. This in +fact might quite have begun, on the spot, with her +returning again to the topic of the handsome girl. +If she was to keep herself out she could naturally best +do so by putting in somebody else. She accordingly +put in Kate Croy, being ready to that extent—as she +was not at all afraid for her—to sacrifice her if necessary. +Lord Mark himself, for that matter, had +made it easy by saying a little while before that no +one among them did anything for nothing. "What +then"—she was aware of being abrupt—"does +Miss Croy, if she's so interested, do it for? What +has she to gain by <i>her</i> lovely welcome? Look at +her <i>now!"</i> Milly broke out with characteristic +freedom of praise, though pulling herself up also +with a compunctious "Oh!" as the direction thus +given to their eyes happened to coincide with a turn +of Kate's face to them. All she had meant to do +was to insist that this face was fine; but what she +had in fact done was to renew again her effect of +showing herself to its possessor as conjoined with +Lord Mark for some interested view of it. He had, +however, promptly met her question. +</p><p> +"To gain? Why, your acquaintance." +</p><p> +"Well, what's my acquaintance to her? She can +care for me—she must feel that—only by being sorry +for me; and that's why she's lovely: to be already +willing to take the trouble to be. It's the height of +the disinterested." +</p><p> +There were more things in this than one that +Lord Mark might have taken up; but in a minute +he had made his choice. "Ah then, I'm nowhere, +for I'm afraid <i>I'm</i> not sorry for you in the least. +What do you make then," he asked, "of your success?" +</p><p> +"Why, just the great reason of all. It's just because +our friend there sees it that she pities me. She +understands," Milly said; "she's better than any of +you. She's beautiful." +</p><p> +He appeared struck with this at last—with the +point the girl made of it; to which she came back +even after a diversion created by a dish presented +between them. "Beautiful in character, I see. <i>Is</i> +she so? You must tell me about her." +</p><p> +Milly wondered. "But haven't you known her +longer than I? Haven't you seen her for yourself?" +</p><p> +"No—I've failed with her. It's no use. I don't +make her out. And I assure you I really should like +to." His assurance had in fact for his companion a +positive suggestion of sincerity; he affected her as +now saying something that he felt; and she was the +more struck with it as she was still conscious of the +failure even of curiosity he had just shown in respect +to herself. She had meant something—though indeed +for herself almost only—in speaking of their +friend's natural pity; it had been a note, doubtless, of +questionable taste, but it had quavered out in spite of +her; and he had not so much as cared to inquire +"Why 'natural'?" Not that it wasn't really much +better for her that he shouldn't: explanations would +in truth have taken her much too far. Only she now +perceived that, in comparison, her word about this +other person really "drew" him; and there were +things in that, probably, many things, as to which +she would learn more and which glimmered there +already as part and parcel of that larger "real" with +which, in her new situation, she was to be beguiled. +It was in fact at the very moment, this element, not +absent from what Lord Mark was further saying. +"So you're wrong, you see, as to our knowing all +about each other. There are cases where we break +down. I at any rate give <i>her</i> up—up, that is, to you. +You must do her for me—tell me, I mean, when you +know more. You'll notice," he pleasantly wound +up, "that I've confidence in you." +</p><p> +"Why shouldn't you have?" Milly asked, observing +in this, as she thought, a fine, though, for such +a man, a surprisingly artless, fatuity. It was as if +there might have been a question of her falsifying +for the sake of her own show—that is of her honesty +not being proof against her desire to keep well with +him herself. She didn't, none the less, otherwise +protest against his remark; there was something else +she was occupied in seeing. It was the handsome +girl alone, one of his own species and his own society, +who had made him feel uncertain; of his certainties +about a mere little American, a cheap exotic, imported +almost wholesale, and whose habitat, with its +conditions of climate, growth, and cultivation, its +immense profusion, but its few varieties and thin +development, he was perfectly satisfied. The marvel +was, too, that Milly understood his satisfaction—feeling +that she expressed the truth in presently +saying: "Of course; I make out that she must be +difficult; just as I see that I myself must be easy." +And that was what, for all the rest of this occasion, +remained with her—as the most interesting thing +that could remain. She was more and more content +herself to be easy; she would have been resigned, +even had it been brought straighter home to her, to +passing for a cheap exotic. Provisionally, at any +rate, that protected her wish to keep herself, with +Lord Mark, in abeyance. They <i>had</i> all affected her +as inevitably knowing each other, and if the handsome +girl's place among them was something even +their initiation couldn't deal with—why, then, she +would indeed be a quantity. +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">VIII</h2> +<br> +<p> +That sense of quantities, separate or mixed, was +indeed doubtless what most prevailed at first for our +slightly gasping American pair; it found utterance +for them in their frequent remark to each other that +they had no one but themselves to thank. It dropped +from Milly more than once that if she had ever +known it was so easy—! though her exclamation +mostly ended without completing her idea. This, +however, was a trifle to Mrs. Stringham, who cared +little whether she meant that in this case she would +have come sooner. She couldn't have come sooner, +and she perhaps, on the contrary, meant—for it +would have been like her—that she wouldn't have +come at all; why it was so easy being at any rate +a matter as to which her companion had begun +quickly to pick up views. Susie kept some of these +lights for the present to herself, since, freely communicated, +they might have been a little disturbing; +with which, moreover, the quantities that we speak +of as surrounding the two ladies were, in many cases, +quantities of things—and of other things—to talk +about. Their immediate lesson, accordingly, was +that they just had been caught up by the incalculable +strength of a wave that was actually holding them +aloft and that would naturally dash them wherever +it liked. They meanwhile, we hasten to add, make +the best of their precarious position, and if Milly had +had no other help for it she would have found not +a little in the sight of Susan Shepherd's state. The +girl had had nothing to say to her, for three days, +about the "success" announced by Lord Mark—which +they saw, besides, otherwise established; she +was too taken up, too touched, by Susie's own exaltation. +Susie glowed in the light of her justified +faith; everything had happened that she had been +acute enough to think least probable; she had appealed +to a possible delicacy in Maud Manningham—a +delicacy, mind you, but <i>barely</i> possible—and her +appeal had been met in a way that was an honour to +human nature. This proved sensibility of the lady +of Lancaster Gate performed verily, for both our +friends, during these first days, the office of a fine +floating gold-dust, something that threw over the +prospect a harmonising blur. The forms, the colours +behind it were strong and deep—we have seen how +they already stood out for Milly; but nothing, comparatively, +had had so much of the dignity of truth +as the fact of Maud's fidelity to a sentiment. That +was what Susie was proud of, much more than of +her great place in the world, which she was moreover +conscious of not as yet wholly measuring. That +was what was more vivid even than her being—in +senses more worldly and in fact almost in the degree +of a revelation—English and distinct and positive, +with almost no inward, but with the finest outward +resonance. +</p><p> +Susan Shepherd's word for her, again and again, +was that she was "large"; yet it was not exactly a +case, as to the soul, of echoing chambers: she might +have been likened rather to a capacious receptacle, +originally perhaps loose, but now drawn as tightly +as possible over its accumulated contents—a packed +mass, for her American admirer, of curious detail. +When the latter good lady, at home, had handsomely +figured her friends as not small—which was the way +she mostly figured them—there was a certain implication +that they were spacious because they were +empty. Mrs. Lowder, by a different law, was spacious +because she was full, because she had something +in common, even in repose, with a projectile, +of great size, loaded and ready for use. That indeed, +to Susie's romantic mind, announced itself as +half the charm of their renewal—a charm as of sitting +in springtime, during a long peace, on the +daisied, grassy bank of some great slumbering fortress. +True to her psychological instincts, certainly, +Mrs. Stringham had noted that the "sentiment" +she rejoiced in on her old schoolmate's part was all +a matter of action and movement, was not, save for +the interweaving of a more frequent plump "dearest" +than she would herself perhaps have used, a +matter of much other embroidery. She brooded, +with interest, on this further remark of race, feeling +in her own spirit a different economy. The joy, for +her, was to know <i>why</i> she acted—the reason was +half the business; whereas with Mrs. Lowder there +might have been no reason: "why" was the trivial +seasoning-substance, the vanilla or the nutmeg, omittable +from the nutritive pudding without spoiling it. +Mrs. Lowder's desire was clearly sharp that their +young companions should also prosper together; +and Mrs. Stringham's account of it all to Milly, during +the first days, was that when, at Lancaster Gate, +she was not occupied in telling, as it were, about her, +she was occupied in hearing much of the history of +her hostess's brilliant niece. +</p><p> +They had plenty, on these lines, the two elder +women, to give and to take, and it was even not quite +clear to the pilgrim from Boston that what she +should mainly have arranged for in London was not +a series of thrills for herself. She had a bad conscience, +indeed almost a sense of immorality, in having +to recognise that she was, as she said, carried +away. She laughed to Milly when she also said that +she didn't know where it would end; and the principal +of her uneasiness was that Mrs. Lowder's life +bristled for her with elements that she was really +having to look at for the first time. They represented, +she believed, the world, the world that, as a consequence +of the cold shoulder turned to it by the +Pilgrim Fathers, had never yet boldly crossed to Boston—it +would surely have sunk the stoutest Cunarder—and +she couldn't pretend that she faced the +prospect simply because Milly had had a caprice. +She was in the act herself of having one, directed +precisely to their present spectacle. She could but +seek strength in the thought that she had never had +one—or had never yielded to one, which came to the +same thing—before. The sustaining sense of it all, +moreover, as literary material—that quite dropped +from her. She must wait, at any rate, she should +see: it struck her, so far as she had got, as vast, obscure, +lurid. She reflected in the watches of the +night that she was probably just going to love it for +itself—that is for itself and Milly. The odd thing +was that she could think of Milly's loving it without +dread—or with dread, at least not on the score of +conscience, only on the score of peace. It was a +mercy, at all events, for the hour, that their fancies +jumped together. +</p><p> +While, for this first week that followed their dinner, +she drank deep at Lancaster Gate, her companion +was no less happily, appeared to be indeed on the +whole quite as romantically, provided for. The +handsome English girl from the heavy English house +had been as a figure in a picture stepping by magic +out of its frame: it was a case, in truth, for which +Mrs. Stringham presently found the perfect image. +She had lost none of her grasp, but quite the contrary, +of that other conceit in virtue of which Milly +was the wandering princess: so what could be more +in harmony now than to see the princess waited upon +at the city gate by the worthiest maiden, the chosen +daughter of the burgesses? It was the real again, +evidently, the amusement of the meeting for the +princess too; princesses living for the most part, in +such an appeased way, on the plane of mere elegant +representation. That was why they pounced, at city +gates, on deputed flower-strewing damsels; that was +why, after effigies, processions, and other stately +games, frank human company was pleasant to them. +Kate Croy really presented herself to Milly—the latter +abounded for Mrs. Stringham in accounts of it—as +the wondrous London girl in person, by what +she had conceived, from far back, of the London +girl; conceived from the tales of travellers and the +anecdotes of New York, from old porings over +<i>Punch</i> and a liberal acquaintance with the fiction of +the day. The only thing was that she was nicer, +for the creature in question had rather been, to our +young woman, an image of dread. She had thought +of her, at her best, as handsome just as Kate was, +with turns of head and tones of voice, felicities of +stature and attitude, things "put on" and, for that +matter, put off, all the marks of the product of a +packed society who should be at the same time the +heroine of a strong story. She placed this striking +young person from the first in a story, saw her, by a +necessity of the imagination, for a heroine, felt it the +only character in which she wouldn't be wasted; and +this in spite of the heroine's pleasant abruptness, her +forbearance from gush, her umbrellas and jackets +and shoes—as these things sketched themselves to +Milly—and something rather of a breezy boy in the +carriage of her arms and the occasional freedom of +her slang. +</p><p> +When Milly had settled that the extent of her +goodwill itself made her shy, she had found for the +moment quite a sufficient key, and they were by that +time thoroughly afloat together. This might well +have been the happiest hour they were to know, attacking +in friendly independence their great London—the +London of shops and streets and suburbs oddly +interesting to Milly, as well as of museums, monuments, +"sights" oddly unfamiliar to Kate, while +their elders pursued a separate course, both rejoicing +in their intimacy and each thinking the other's young +woman a great acquisition for her own. Milly expressed +to Susan Shepherd more than once that Kate +had some secret, some smothered trouble, besides all +the rest of her history; and that if she had so good-naturedly +helped Mrs. Lowder to meet them this was +exactly to create a diversion, to give herself something +else to think about. But on the case thus postulated +our young American had as yet had no light: +she only felt that when the light should come it +would greatly deepen the colour; and she liked to +think she was prepared for anything. What she +already knew, moreover, was full to her vision, of +English, of eccentric, of Thackerayan character, +Kate Croy having gradually become not a little explicit +on the subject of her situation, her past, her +present, her general predicament, her small success, +up to the present hour, in contenting at the same time +her father, her sister, her aunt and herself. It was +Milly's subtle guess, imparted to her Susie, that the +girl had somebody else as well, as yet unnamed, to +content, it being manifest that such a creature +couldn't help having; a creature not perhaps, if one +would, exactly formed to inspire passions, since that +always implied a certain silliness, but essentially +seen, by the admiring eye of friendship, under the +clear shadow of some probably eminent male interest. +The clear shadow, from whatever source projected, +hung, at any rate, over Milly's companion the whole +week, and Kate Croy's handsome face smiled out of +it, under bland skylights, in the presence alike of old +masters passive in their glory and of thoroughly new +ones, the newest, who bristled restlessly with pins +and brandished snipping shears. +</p><p> +It was meanwhile a pretty part of the intercourse +of these young ladies that each thought the other +more remarkable than herself—that each thought +herself, or assured the other she did, a comparatively +dusty object and the other a favourite of nature and +of fortune. Kate was amused, amazed at the way +her friend insisted on "taking" her, and Milly wondered +if Kate were sincere in finding her the most +extraordinary—quite apart from her being the most +charming—person she had come across. They had +talked, in long drives, and quantities of history had +not been wanting—in the light of which Mrs. Lowder's +niece might superficially seem to have had the +best of the argument. Her visitor's American references, +with their bewildering immensities, their confounding +moneyed New York, their excitements of +high pressure, their opportunities of wild freedom, +their record of used-up relatives, parents, clever, +eager, fair, slim brothers—these the most loved—all +engaged, as well as successive superseded guardians, +in a high extravagance of speculation and dissipation +that had left this exquisite being her black dress, her +white face and her vivid hair as the mere last broken +link: such a picture quite threw into the shade +the brief biography, however sketchily amplified, +of a mere middle-class nobody in Bayswater. And +though that indeed might be but a Bayswater way +of putting it, in addition to which Milly was in the +stage of interest in Bayswater ways, this critic so +far prevailed that, like Mrs. Stringham herself, she +fairly got her companion to accept from her that +she was quite the nearest approach to a practical +princess Bayswater could hope ever to know. It +was a fact—it became one at the end of three days—that +Milly actually began to borrow from the handsome +girl a sort of view of her state; the handsome +girl's impression of it was clearly so sincere. This +impression was a tribute, a tribute positively to +power, power the source of which was the last thing +Kate treated as a mystery. There were passages, +under all their skylights, the succession of their shops +being large, in which the latter's easy, yet the least +bit dry manner sufficiently gave out that if she had +had so deep a pocket——! +</p><p> +It was not moreover by any means with not having +the imagination of expenditure that she appeared +to charge her friend, but with not having the imagination +of terror, of thrift, the imagination or in any +degree the habit of a conscious dependence on others. +Such moments, when all Wigmore Street, for instance, +seemed to rustle about and the pale girl herself +to be facing the different rustlers, usually so +undiscriminated, as individual Britons too, Britons +personal, parties to a relation and perhaps even intrinsically +remarkable—such moments in especial determined +in Kate a perception of the high happiness +of her companion's liberty. Milly's range was thus +immense; she had to ask nobody for anything, to +refer nothing to any one; her freedom, her fortune +and her fancy were her law; an obsequious world +surrounded her, she could sniff up at every step its +fumes. And Kate, in these days, was altogether in +the phase of forgiving her so much bliss; in the +phase moreover of believing that, should they continue +to go on together, she would abide in that generosity. +She had, at such a point as this, no suspicion +of a rift within the lute—by which we mean not +only none of anything's coming between them, but +none of any definite flaw in so much clearness of +quality. Yet, all the same, if Milly, at Mrs. Lowder's +banquet, had described herself to Lord Mark +as kindly used by the young woman on the other side +because of some faintly-felt special propriety in it, +so there really did match with this, privately, on the +young woman's part, a feeling not analysed but +divided, a latent impression that Mildred Theale was +not, after all, a person to change places, to change +even chances with. Kate, verily, would perhaps not +quite have known what she meant by this reservation, +and she came near naming it only when she said +to herself that, rich as Milly was, one probably +wouldn't—which was singular—ever hate her for it. +The handsome girl had, with herself, these felicities +and crudities: it wasn't obscure to her that, without +some very particular reason to help, it might have +proved a test of one's philosophy not to be irritated +by a mistress of millions, or whatever they were, +who, as a girl, so easily might have been, like herself, +only vague and fatally female. She was by no +means sure of liking Aunt Maud as much as she deserved, +and Aunt Maud's command of funds was +obviously inferior to Milly's. There was thus +clearly, as pleading for the latter, some influence that +would later on become distinct; and meanwhile, decidedly, +it was enough that she was as charming as +she was queer and as queer as she was charming—all +of which was a rare amusement; as well, for that +matter, as further sufficient that there were objects +of value she had already pressed on Kate's acceptance. +A week of her society in these conditions—conditions +that Milly chose to sum up as ministering +immensely, for a blind, vague pilgrim, to aid and +comfort—announced itself from an early hour as +likely to become a week of presents, acknowledgments, +mementos, pledges of gratitude and admiration +that were all on one side. Kate as promptly +embraced the propriety of making it clear that she +must forswear shops till she should receive some +guarantee that the contents of each one she entered +as a humble companion should not be placed at her +feet; yet that was in truth not before she had found +herself in possession, under whatever protests, of +several precious ornaments and other minor conveniences. +</p><p> +Great was the absurdity, too, that there should +have come a day, by the end of the week, when it +appeared that all Milly would have asked in definite +"return," as might be said, was to be told a little +about Lord Mark and to be promised the privilege +of a visit to Mrs. Condrip. Far other amusements +had been offered her, but her eagerness was shamelessly +human, and she seemed really to count more +on the revelation of the anxious lady of Chelsea than +on the best nights of the opera. Kate admired, and +showed it, such an absence of fear: to the fear of +being bored, in such a connection, she would have +been so obviously entitled. Milly's answer to this +was the plea of her curiosities—which left her +friend wondering as to their odd direction. Some +among them, no doubt, were rather more intelligible, +and Kate had heard without wonder that she was +blank about Lord Mark. This young lady's account +of him, at the same time, professed itself as frankly +imperfect; for what they best knew him by at Lancaster +Gate was a thing difficult to explain. One +knew people in general by something they had to +show, something that, either for them or against, +could be touched or named or proved; and she could +think of no other case of a value taken as so great +and yet flourishing untested. His value was his +future, which had somehow got itself as accepted +by Aunt Maud as if it had been his good cook or his +steam-launch. She, Kate, didn't mean she thought +him a humbug; he might do great things—but they +were all, as yet, so to speak, he had done. On the +other hand it was of course something of an achievement, +and not open to every one, to have got one's self +taken so seriously by Aunt Maud. The best +thing about him, doubtless, on the whole, was that +Aunt Maud believed in him. She was often fantastic, +but she knew a humbug, and—no, Lord Mark +wasn't that. He had been a short time in the House, +on the Tory side, but had lost his seat on the first +opportunity, and this was all he had to point to. +However, he pointed to nothing; which was very +possibly just a sign of his real cleverness, one of +those that the really clever had in common with the +really void. Even Aunt Maud frequently admitted +that there was a good deal, for her view of him, to +come up in the rear. And he wasn't meanwhile +himself indifferent—indifferent to himself—for +he was working Lancaster Gate for all it was +worth: just as it was, no doubt, working <i>him,</i> +and just as the working and the worked were in +London, as one might explain, the parties to every +relation. +</p><p> +Kate did explain, for her listening friend: every +one who had anything to give—it was true they were +the fewest—made the sharpest possible bargain for +it, got at least its value in return. The strangest +thing, furthermore, was that this might be, in cases, +a happy understanding. The worker in one connection +was the worked in another; it was as broad as +it was long—with the wheels of the system, as might +be seen, wonderfully oiled. People could quite like +each other in the midst of it, as Aunt Maud, by every +appearance, quite liked Lord Mark, and as Lord +Mark, it was to be hoped, liked Mrs. Lowder, since +if he didn't he was a greater brute than one could believe. +She, Kate, had not yet, it was true, made out +what he was doing for her—besides which the dear +woman needed him, even at the most he could do, +much less than she imagined; so far as all of which +went, moreover, there were plenty of things on every +side she had not yet made out. She believed, on the +whole, in any one Aunt Maud took up; and she gave +it to Milly as worth thinking of that, whatever wonderful +people this young lady might meet in the land, +she would meet no more extraordinary woman. +There were greater celebrities by the million, and of +course greater swells, but a bigger <i>person,</i> by Kate's +view, and a larger natural handful every way, would +really be far to seek. When Milly inquired with interest +if Kate's belief in <i>her</i> was primarily on the +lines of what Mrs. Lowder "took up," her interlocutress +could handsomely say yes, since by the same +principle she believed in herself. Whom but Aunt +Maud's niece, pre-eminently, had Aunt Maud taken +up, and who was thus more in the current, with her, +of working and of being worked? "You may ask," +Kate said, "what in the world I have to give; and +that indeed is just what I'm trying to learn. There +must be something, for her to think she can get it +out of me. She <i>will</i> get it—trust her; and then I +shall see what it is; which I beg you to believe I +should never have found out for myself." She declined +to treat any question of Milly's own "paying" +power as discussable; that Milly would pay a +hundred per cent.—and even to the end, doubtless, +through the nose—was just the beautiful basis on +which they found themselves. +</p><p> +These were fine facilities, pleasantries, ironies, all +these luxuries of gossip and philosophies of London +and of life, and they became quickly, between the +pair, the common form of talk, Milly professing herself +delighted to know that something was to be done +with her. If the most remarkable woman in England +was to do it, so much the better, and if the most +remarkable woman in England had them both in +hand together, why, what could be jollier for each? +When she reflected indeed a little on the oddity of +her wanting two at once, Kate had the natural reply +that it was exactly what showed her sincerity. She +invariably gave way to feeling, and feeling had distinctly +popped up in her on the advent of her girlhood's +friend. The way the cat would jump was +always, in presence of anything that moved her, interesting +to see; visibly enough, moreover, for a +long time, it hadn't jumped anything like so far. +This, in fact, as we already know, remained the marvel +for Milly Theale, who, on sight of Mrs. Lowder, +found fifty links in respect to Susie absent from the +chain of association. She knew so herself what she +thought of Susie that she would have expected the +lady of Lancaster Gate to think something quite different; +the failure of which endlessly mystified her. +But her mystification was the cause for her of another +fine impression, inasmuch as when she went +so far as to observe to Kate that Susan Shepherd—and +especially Susan Shepherd emerging so uninvited +from an irrelevant past—ought, by all the proprieties, +simply to have bored Aunt Maud, her confidant +agreed with her without a protest and abounded +in the sense of her wonder. Susan Shepherd at +least bored the niece—that was plain; this young +woman saw nothing in her—nothing to account for +anything, not even for Milly's own indulgence: +which little fact became in turn to the latter's mind +a fact of significance. It was a light on the handsome +girl—representing more than merely showed—that +poor Susie was simply as nought to her. This +was, in a manner too, a general admonition to poor +Susie's companion, who seemed to see marked by it +the direction in which she had best most look out. +</p><p> +It just faintly rankled in her that a person who was +good enough and to spare for Milly Theale shouldn't +be good enough for another girl; though, oddly +enough, she could easily have forgiven Mrs. Lowder +herself the impatience. Mrs. Lowder didn't feel it, +and Kate Croy felt it with ease; yet in the end, be +it added, she grasped the reason, and the reason enriched +her mind. Wasn't it sufficiently the reason +that the handsome girl was, with twenty other splendid +qualities, the least bit brutal too, and didn't she +suggest, as no one yet had ever done for her new +friend, that there might be a wild beauty in that, and +even a strange grace? Kate wasn't brutally brutal—which +Milly had hitherto benightedly supposed +the only way; she wasn't even aggressively so, but +rather indifferently, defensively and, as might be +said, by the habit of anticipation. She simplified in +advance, was beforehand with her doubts, and knew +with singular quickness what she wasn't, as they +said in New York, going to like. In that way at +least people were clearly quicker in England than at +home; and Milly could quite see, after a little, how +such instincts might become usual in a world in +which dangers abounded. There were more dangers, +clearly, round about Lancaster Gate than one +suspected in New York or could dream of in Boston. +At all events, with more sense of them, there were +more precautions, and it was a remarkable world +altogether in which there could be precautions, on +whatever ground, against Susie. +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">IX</h2> +<br> +<p> +She certainly made up with Susie directly, however, +for any allowance she might have had privately to +extend to tepid appreciation; since the late and long +talks of these two embraced not only everything +offered and suggested by the hours they spent apart, +but a good deal more besides. She might be as detached +as the occasion required at four o'clock in the +afternoon, but she used no such freedom to any one +about anything as she habitually used about everything +to Susan Shepherd at midnight. All the same, +it should with much less delay than this have been +mentioned, she had not yet—had not, that is, at the +end of six days—produced any news for her comrade +to compare with an announcement made her by the +latter as a result of a drive with Mrs. Lowder, for a +change, in the remarkable Battersea Park. The +elder friends had sociably revolved there while the +younger ones followed bolder fancies in the admirable +equipage appointed to Milly at the hotel—a +heavier, more emblazoned, more amusing chariot +than she had ever, with "stables" notoriously mismanaged, +known at home; whereby, in the course +of the circuit, more than once repeated, it had "come +out," as Mrs. Stringham said, that the couple at Lancaster +Gate were, of all people, acquainted with Mildred's +other English friend—the gentleman, the one +connected with the English newspaper (Susie hung +fire a little over his name) who had been with her +in New York so shortly previous to present adventures. +He had been named of course in Battersea +Park—else he couldn't have been identified; and +Susie had naturally, before she could produce her +own share in the matter as a kind of confession, to +make it plain that her allusion was to Mr. Merton +Densher. This was because Milly had at first a little +air of not knowing whom she meant; and the girl +really kept, as well, a certain control of herself while +she remarked that the case was surprising, the chance +one in a thousand. They knew him, both Maud +and Miss Croy knew him, she gathered too, rather +well, though indeed it was not on any show of intimacy +that he had happened to be mentioned. It had +not been—Susie made the point—she herself who +brought him in: he had in fact not been brought in +at all, but only referred to as a young journalist +known to Mrs. Lowder and who had lately gone to +their wonderful country—Mrs. Lowder always said +"your wonderful country"—on behalf of his journal. +But Mrs. Stringham had taken it up—with the tips +of her fingers indeed; and that was the confession: +she had, without meaning any harm, recognised Mr. +Densher as an acquaintance of Milly's, though she +had also pulled herself up before getting in too far. +Mrs. Lowder had been struck, clearly—it wasn't too +much to say; then she also, it had rather seemed, had +pulled herself up; and there had been a little moment +during which each might have been keeping something +from the other. "Only," said Milly's mate, +"I luckily remembered in time that I had nothing +whatever to keep—which was much simpler and +nicer. I don't know what Maud has, but there it +is. She was interested, distinctly, in your knowing +him—in his having met you over there with so little +loss of time. But I ventured to tell her it hadn't +been so long as to make you as yet great friends. +I don't know if I was right." +</p><p> +Whatever time this explanation might have taken, +there had been moments enough in the matter now—before +the elder woman's conscience had done itself +justice—to enable Milly to reply that although the +fact in question doubtless had its importance she +imagined they wouldn't find the importance overwhelming. +It <i>was</i> odd that their one Englishman +should so instantly fit; it wasn't, however, miraculous—they +surely all had often seen that, as every +one said, the world was extraordinarily "small." +Undoubtedly, too, Susie had done just the plain +thing in not letting his name pass. Why in the +world should there be a mystery?—and what an immense +one they would appear to have made if he +should come back and find they had concealed their +knowledge of him! "I don't know, Susie dear," +the girl observed, "what you think I have to conceal." +</p><p> +"It doesn't matter, at a given moment," Mrs. +Stringham returned, "what you know or don't know +as to what I think; for you always find out the very +next moment, and when you do find out, dearest, +you never <i>really</i> care. Only," she presently asked, +"have you heard of him from Miss Croy?" +</p><p> +"Heard of Mr. Densher? Never a word. We +haven't mentioned him. Why should we?" +</p><p> +"That <i>you</i> haven't, I understand; but that she +hasn't," Susie opined, "may mean something." +</p><p> +"May mean what?" +</p><p> +"Well," Mrs. Stringham presently brought out, +"I tell you all when I tell you that Maud asks me to +suggest to you that it may perhaps be better for the +present not to speak of him: not to speak of him to +her niece, that is, unless she herself speaks to you +first. But Maud thinks she won't." +</p><p> +Milly was ready to engage for anything; but in +respect to the facts—as they so far possessed them—it +all sounded a little complicated. "Is it because +there's anything between them?" +</p><p> +"No—I gather not; but Maud's state of mind is +precautionary. She's afraid of something. Or perhaps +it would be more correct to say she's afraid of +everything." +</p><p> +"She's afraid, you mean," Milly asked, "of their—a—liking +each other?" +</p><p> +Susie had an intense thought and then an effusion. +"My dear child, we move in a labyrinth." +</p><p> +"Of course we do. That's just the fun of it!" +said Milly with a strange gaiety. Then she added: +"Don't tell me that—in this for instance—there are +not abysses. I want abysses." +</p><p> +Her friend looked at her—it was not unfrequently +the case—a little harder than the surface of the occasion +seemed to require; and another person present +at such times might have wondered to what inner +thought of her own the good lady was trying to fit +the speech. It was too much her disposition, no +doubt, to treat her young companion's words as +symptoms of an imputed malady. It was none the +less, however, her highest law to be light when the +girl was light. She knew how to be quaint with +the new quaintness—the great Boston gift; it +had been, happily, her note in the magazines; and +Maud Lowder, to whom it was new indeed and who +had never heard anything remotely like it, quite cherished +her, as a social resource, for it. It should not +therefore fail her now; with it in fact one might +face most things. "Ah, then let us hope we shall +sound the depths—I'm prepared for the worst—of +sorrow and sin! But she would like her niece—we're +not ignorant of that, are we?—to marry Lord +Mark. Hasn't she told you so?" +</p><p> +"Hasn't Mrs. Lowder told me?" +</p><p> +"No; hasn't Kate? It isn't, you know, that she +doesn't know it." +</p><p> +Milly had, under her comrade's eyes, a minute of +mute detachment. She had lived with Kate Croy +for several days in a state of intimacy as deep as it +had been sudden, and they had clearly, in talk, in +many directions, proceeded to various extremities. +Yet it now came over her as in a clear cold way that +there was a possible account of their relations in +which the quantity her new friend had told her might +have figured as small, as smallest, beside the quantity +she hadn't. She couldn't say, at any rate, whether +or no she had made the point that her aunt designed +her for Lord Mark: it had only sufficiently come +out—which had been, moreover, eminently guessable—that +she was involved in her aunt's designs. +Somehow, for Milly, brush it over nervously as she +might and with whatever simplifying hand, this +abrupt extrusion of Mr. Densher altered all proportions, +had an effect on all values. It was fantastic +of her to let it make a difference that she couldn't +in the least have defined—and she was at least, even +during these instants, rather proud of being able to +hide, on the spot, the difference it did make. Yet, +all the same, the effect for her was, almost violently, +of Mr. Densher's having been there—having been +where she had stood till now in her simplicity—before +her. It would have taken but another free moment +to make her see abysses—since abysses were +what she wanted—in the mere circumstance of his +own silence, in New York, about his English friends. +There had really been in New York little time for +anything; but, had she liked, Milly could have made +it out for herself that he had avoided the subject of +Miss Croy, and that Miss Croy was yet a subject it +could never be natural to avoid. It was to be added +at the same time that even if his silence had been +labyrinthe—which was absurd in view of all the +other things too he couldn't possibly have spoken of—this +was exactly what must suit her, since it fell +under the head of the plea she had just uttered to +Susie. These things, however, came and went, and +it set itself up between the companions, for the occasion, +in the oddest way, both that their happening all +to know Mr. Densher—except indeed that Susie +didn't, but probably would,—was a fact belonging, +in a world of rushing about, to one of the common +orders of chance; and yet further that it was amusing—oh, +awfully amusing!—to be able fondly to +hope that there was "something in" its having been +left to crop up with such suddenness. There seemed +somehow a possibility that the ground or, as it were, +the air might, in a manner, have undergone some +pleasing preparation; though the question of this +possibility would probably, after all, have taken some +threshing out. The truth, moreover—and there +they were, already, our pair, talking about it, the +"truth!"—had not in fact quite cropped out. This, +obviously, in view of Mrs. Lowder's request to her +old friend. +</p><p> +It was accordingly on Mrs. Lowder's recommendation +that nothing should be said to Kate—it was +on this rich attitude of Aunt Maud's that the idea +of an interesting complication might best hope to +perch; and when, in fact, after the colloquy we have +reported Milly saw Kate again without mentioning +any name, her silence succeeded in passing muster +with her as the beginning of a new sort of fun. The +sort was all the newer by reason of its containing a +small element of anxiety: when she had gone in for +fun before it had been with her hands a little more +free. Yet it <i>was,</i> none the less, rather exciting to +be conscious of a still sharper reason for interest in +the handsome girl, as Kate continued, even now, pre-eminently +to remain for her; and a reason—this was +the great point—of which the young woman herself +could have no suspicion. Twice over, thus, for two +or three hours together, Milly found herself seeing +Kate, quite fixing her in the light of the knowledge +that it was a face on which Mr. Densher's eyes had +more or less familiarly rested and which, by the same +token, had looked, rather <i>more</i> beautifully than less, +into his own. She pulled herself up indeed with the +thought that it had inevitably looked, as beautifully +as one would, into thousands of faces in which one +might one's self never trace it; but just the odd result +of the thought was to intensify for the girl that +side of her friend which she had doubtless already +been more prepared than she quite knew to think of +as the "other," the not wholly calculable. It was +fantastic, and Milly was aware of this; but the +other side was what had, of a sudden, been turned +straight towards her by the show of Mr. Densher's +propinquity. She hadn't the excuse of knowing it +for Kate's own, since nothing whatever as yet proved +it particularly to be such. Never mind; it was with +this other side now fully presented that Kate came +and went, kissed her for greeting and for parting, +talked, as usual, of everything but—as it had so +abruptly become for Milly—<i>the</i> thing. Our young +woman, it is true, would doubtless not have tasted +so sharply a difference in this pair of occasions had +she not been tasting so peculiarly her own possible +betrayals. What happened was that afterwards, on +separation, she wondered if the matter had not mainly +been that she herself was so "other," so taken up +with the unspoken; the strangest thing of all being, +still subsequently, that when she asked herself how +Kate could have failed to feel it she became conscious +of being here on the edge of a great darkness. She +should never know how Kate truly felt about anything +such a one as Milly Theale should give her to +feel. Kate would never—and not from ill-will, nor +from duplicity, but from a sort of failure of common +terms—reduce it to such a one's comprehension or +put it within her convenience. +</p><p> +It was as such a one, therefore, that, for three or +four days more, Milly watched Kate as just such +another; and it was presently as such a one that she +threw herself into their promised visit, at last +achieved, to Chelsea, the quarter of the famous Carlyle, +the field of exercise of his ghost, his votaries, +and the residence of "poor Marian," so often referred +to and actually a somewhat incongruous spirit +there. With our young woman's first view of poor +Marian everything gave way but the sense of how, +in England, apparently, the social situation of sisters +could be opposed, how common ground, for a place +in the world, could quite fail them: a state of things +sagely perceived to be involved in an hierarchical, an +aristocratic order. Just whereabouts in the order +Mrs. Lowder had established her niece was a question +not wholly void, as yet, no doubt, of ambiguity—though +Milly was withal sure Lord Mark could +exactly have fixed the point if he would, fixing it at +the same time for Aunt Maud herself; but it was +clear that Mrs. Condrip was, as might have been said, +in quite another geography. She would not, in +short, have been to be found on the same social map, +and it was as if her visitors had turned over page +after page together before the final relief of their +benevolent "Here!" The interval was bridged, +of course, but the bridge, verily, was needed, and the +impression left Milly to wonder whether, in the general +connection, it were of bridges or of intervals +that the spirit not locally disciplined would find itself +most conscious. It was as if at home, by contrast, +there were neither—neither the difference +itself, from position to position, nor, on either side, +and particularly on one, the awfully good manner, +the conscious sinking of a consciousness, that made +up for it. The conscious sinking, at all events, and +the awfully good manner, the difference, the bridge, +the interval, the skipped leaves of the social atlas—these, +it was to be confessed, had a little, for our +young lady, in default of stouter stuff, to work themselves +into the light literary legend—a mixed, wandering +echo of Trollope, of Thackeray, perhaps +mostly of Dickens—under favour of which her pilgrimage +had so much appealed. She could relate +to Susie later on, late the same evening, that the +legend, before she had done with it, had run clear, +that the adored author of <i>The Newcomes</i>, in fine, had +been on the whole the note: the picture lacking thus +more than she had hoped, or rather perhaps showing +less than she had feared, a certain possibility of Pickwickian +outline. She explained how she meant by +this that Mrs. Condrip had not altogether proved another +Mrs. Nickleby, nor even—for she might have +proved almost anything, from the way poor worried +Kate had spoken—a widowed and aggravated Mrs. +Micawber. +</p><p> +Mrs. Stringham, in the midnight conference, intimated +rather yearningly that, however the event +might have turned, the side of English life such experiences +opened to Milly were just those she herself +seemed "booked"—as they were all, roundabout +her now, always saying—to miss: she had begun to +have a little, for her fellow-observer, these moments +of fanciful reaction—reaction in which she was once +more all Susan Shepherd—against the high sphere +of colder conventions into which her overwhelming +connection with Maud Manningham had rapt her. +Milly never lost sight, for long, of the Susan Shepherd +side of her, and was always there to meet it +when it came up and vaguely, tenderly, impatiently +to pat it, abounding in the assurance that they would +still provide for it. They had, however, to-night, +another matter in hand; which proved to be presently, +on the girl's part, in respect to her hour of +Chelsea, the revelation that Mrs. Condrip, taking a +few minutes when Kate was away with one of the +children, in bed upstairs for some small complaint, +had suddenly, without its being in the least "led up +to," broken ground on the subject of Mr. Densher, +mentioned him with impatience as a person in love +with her sister. "She wished me, if I cared for +Kate, to know," Milly said—"for it would be quite +too dreadful, and one might do something." +</p><p> +Susie wondered. "Prevent anything coming of +it? That's easily said. Do what?" +</p><p> +Milly had a dim smile. "I think that what she +would like is that I should come a good deal to see +her about it." +</p><p> +"And doesn't she suppose you've anything else +to do?" +</p><p> +The girl had by this time clearly made it out. +"Nothing but to admire and make much of her sister—whom +she doesn't, however, herself in the least +understand—and give up one's time, and everything +else, to it." It struck the elder friend that she spoke +with an almost unprecedented approach to sharpness; +as if Mrs. Condrip had been rather specially +disconcerting. Never yet so much as just of late +had Mrs. Stringham seen her companion as exalted, +and by the very play of something within, into a +vague golden air that left irritation below. That +was the great thing with Milly—it was her characteristic +poetry; or at least it was Susan Shepherd's. +"But she made a point," the former continued, "of +my keeping what she says from Kate. I'm not to +mention that she has spoken." +</p><p> +"And why," Mrs. Stringham presently asked, "is +Mr. Densher so dreadful?" +</p><p> +Milly had, she thought, an hesitation—something +that suggested a fuller talk with Mrs. Condrip than +she inclined perhaps to report. "It isn't so much +he himself." Then the girl spoke a little as for the +romance of it; one could never tell, with her, where +romance would come in. "It's the state of his +fortunes." +</p><p> +"And is that very bad?" +</p><p> +"He has no 'private means,' and no prospect of +any. He has no income, and no ability, according +to Mrs. Condrip, to make one. He's as poor, she +calls it, as 'poverty,' and she says she knows what +that is." +</p><p> +Again Mrs. Stringham considered, and it presently +produced something. "But isn't he brilliantly +clever?" +</p><p> +Milly had also then an instant that was not quite +fruitless. "I haven't the least idea." +</p><p> +To which, for the time, Susie only answered +"Oh!"—though by the end of a minute she had followed +it with a slightly musing "I see"; and that in +turn with: "It's quite what Maud Lowder thinks." +</p><p> +"That he'll never do anything?" +</p><p> +"No—quite the contrary: that he's exceptionally +able." +</p><p> +"Oh yes; I know"—Milly had again, in reference +to what her friend had already told her of this, +her little tone of a moment before. "But Mrs. Condrip's +own great point is that Aunt Maud herself +won't hear of any such person. Mr. Densher, she +holds that's the way, at any rate, it was explained +to me—won't ever be either a public man or a rich +man. If he were public she'd be willing, as I understand, +to help him; if he were rich—without being +anything else—she'd do her best to swallow him. +As it is, she taboos him." +</p><p> +"In short," said Mrs. Stringham as with a private +purpose, "she told you, the sister, all about it. But +Mrs. Lowder likes him," she added. +</p><p> +"Mrs. Condrip didn't tell me that." +</p><p> +"Well, she does, all the same, my dear, extremely." +</p><p> +"Then there it is!" On which, with a drop and +one of those sudden, slightly sighing surrenders to +a vague reflux and a general fatigue that had recently +more than once marked themselves for her companion, +Milly turned away. Yet the matter was not +left so, that night, between them, albeit neither perhaps +could afterwards have said which had first +come back to it. Milly's own nearest approach, at +least, for a little, to doing so, was to remark that they +appeared all—every one they saw—to think tremendously +of money. This prompted in Susie a laugh, +not untender, the innocent meaning of which was +that it came, as a subject for indifference, money +did, easier to some people than to others: she made +the point in fairness, however, that you couldn't have +told, by any too crude transparency of air, what +place it held for Maud Manningham. She did +her worldliness with grand proper silences—if it +mightn't better be put perhaps that she did her detachment +with grand occasional pushes. However +Susie put it, in truth, she was really, in justice to herself, +thinking of the difference, as favourites of fortune, +between her old friend and her new. Aunt +Maud sat somehow in the midst of her money, +founded on it and surrounded by it, even if with a +clever high manner about it, her manner of looking, +hard and bright, as if it weren't there. Milly, about +hers, had no manner at all—which was possibly, +from a point of view, a fault: she was at any rate +far away on the edge of it, and you hadn't, as might +be said, in order to get at her nature, to traverse, by +whatever avenue, any piece of her property. It was +clear, on the other hand, that Mrs. Lowder was keeping +her wealth as for purposes, imaginations, ambitions, +that would figure as large, as honourably unselfish, +on the day they should take effect. She +would impose her will, but her will would be only +that a person or two shouldn't lose a benefit by not +submitting if they could be made to submit. To +Milly, as so much younger, such far views couldn't +be imputed: there was nobody she was supposable +as interested for. It was too soon, since she wasn't +interested for herself. Even the richest woman, at +her age, lacked motive, and Milly's motive doubtless +had plenty of time to arrive. She was meanwhile +beautiful, simple, sublime without it—whether missing +it and vaguely reaching out for it or not; and +with it, for that matter, in the event, would really be +these things just as much. Only then she might +very well have, like Aunt Maud, a manner. Such +were the connections, at all events, in which the colloquy +of our two ladies freshly flickered up—in which +it came round that the elder asked the younger if she +had herself, in the afternoon, named Mr. Densher +as an acquaintance. +</p><p> +"Oh no—I said nothing of having seen him. I +remembered," the girl explained, "Mrs. Lowder's +wish." +</p><p> +"But that," her friend observed after a moment, +"was for silence to Kate." +</p><p> +"Yes—but Mrs. Condrip would immediately have +told Kate." +</p><p> +"Why so?—since she must dislike to talk about +him." +</p><p> +"Mrs. Condrip must?" Milly thought. "What +she would like most is that her sister should be +brought to think ill of him; and if anything she can +tell her will help that—" But Milly dropped suddenly +here, as if her companion would see. +</p><p> +Her companion's interest, however, was all for +what she herself saw. "You mean she'll immediately +speak?" Mrs. Stringham gathered that this +was what Milly meant, but it left still a question. +"How will it be against him that you know him?" +</p><p> +"Oh, I don't know. It won't be so much one's +knowing him as one's having kept it out of sight." +</p><p> +"Ah," said Mrs. Stringham, as if for comfort, +<i>"you</i> haven't kept it out of sight. Isn't it much +rather Miss Croy herself who has?" +</p><p> +"It isn't my acquaintance with him," Milly smiled, +"that she has dissimulated." +</p><p> +"She has dissimulated only her own? Well then, +the responsibility's hers." +</p><p> +"Ah but," said the girl, not perhaps with marked +consequence, "she has a right to do as she likes." +</p><p> +"Then so, my dear, have you!" smiled Susan +Shepherd. +</p><p> +Milly looked at her as if she were almost venerably +simple, but also as if this were what one loved her +for. "We're not quarrelling about it, Kate and I, +<i>yet."</i> +</p><p> +"I only meant," Mrs. Stringham explained, "that +I don't see what Mrs. Condrip would gain." +</p><p> +"By her being able to tell Kate?" Milly thought. +"I only meant that I don't see what I myself should +gain." +</p><p> +"But it will have to come out—that he knows you +both—some time." +</p><p> +Milly scarce assented. "Do you mean when he +comes back?" +</p><p> +"He'll find you both here, and he can hardly be +looked to, I take it, to 'cut' either of you for the +sake of the other." +</p><p> +This placed the question at last on a basis more +distinctly cheerful. "I might get at him somehow +beforehand," the girl suggested; "I might give him +what they call here the tip—that he's not to know +me when we meet. Or, better still, I mightn't be +here at all." +</p><p> +"Do you want to run away from him?" +</p><p> +It was, oddly enough, an idea Milly seemed half +to accept. "I don't know <i>what</i> I want to run away +from!" +</p><p> +It dispelled, on the spot—something, to the elder +woman's ear, in the sad, sweet sound of it—any +ghost of any need of explaining. The sense was +constant for her that their relation was as if afloat, +like some island of the south, in a great warm sea +that made, for every conceivable chance, a margin, +an outer sphere of general emotion; and the effect +of the occurrence of anything in particular was to +make the sea submerge the island, the margin flood +the text. The great wave now for a moment swept +over. "I'll go anywhere else in the world you +like." +</p><p> +But Milly came up through it. "Dear old Susie—how +I do work you!" +</p><p> +"Oh, this is nothing yet." +</p><p> +"No indeed—to what it will be." +</p><p> +"You're not—and it's vain to pretend," said dear +old Susie, who had been taking her in, "as sound +and strong as I insist on having you." +</p><p> +"Insist, insist—the more the better. But the day +I <i>look</i> as sound and strong as that, you know," Milly +went on—"on that day I shall be just sound and +strong enough to take leave of you sweetly for ever. +That's where one is," she continued thus agreeably +to embroider, "when even one's <i>most</i> 'beaux moments' +aren't such as to qualify, so far as appearance +goes, for anything gayer than a handsome cemetery. +Since I've lived all these years as if I were dead, I +shall die, no doubt, as if I were alive—which will +happen to be as you want me. So, you see," she +wound up, "you'll never really know where I am. +Except indeed when I'm gone; and then you'll only +know where I'm not." +</p><p> +"I'd die <i>for</i> you," said Susan Shepherd after a +moment. +</p><p> +"'Thanks awfully'! Then stay here for me." +</p><p> +"But we can't be in London for August, nor for +many of all these next weeks." +</p><p> +"Then we'll go back." +</p><p> +Susie blenched. "Back to America?" +</p><p> +"No, abroad—to Switzerland, Italy, anywhere. +I mean by your staying here for me," Milly pursued, +"your staying with me wherever I may be, +even though we may neither of us know at the time +where it is. No," she insisted, "I <i>don't</i> know where +I am, and you never will, and it doesn't matter—and +I dare say it's quite true," she broke off, "that everything +will have to come out." Her friend would +have felt of her that she joked about it now, had not +her scale from grave to gay been a thing of such +unnamable shades that her contrasts were never +sharp. She made up for failures of gravity by failures +of mirth; if she hadn't, that is, been at times +as earnest as might have been liked, so she was certain +not to be at other times as easy as she would like +herself. "I must face the music. It isn't, at any +rate, its 'coming out,'" she added; "it's that Mrs. +Condrip would put the fact before her to his injury." +</p><p> +Her companion wondered. "But how to <i>his?"</i> +</p><p> +"Why, if he pretends to love her——!" +</p><p> +"And does he only 'pretend'?" +</p><p> +"I mean if, trusted by her in strange countries, he +forgets her so far as to make up to other people." +</p><p> +The amendment, however, brought Susie in, as if +with gaiety, for a comfortable end. "Did he make +up, the false creature, to <i>you?"</i> +</p><p> +"No—but the question isn't of that. It's of what +Kate might be made to believe." +</p><p> +"That, given the fact that he evidently more or +less followed up his acquaintance with you, to say +nothing of your obvious weird charm, he must have +been all ready if you had at all led him on?" +</p><p> +Milly neither accepted nor qualified this; she only +said, after a moment, as with a conscious excess of +the pensive: "No, I don't think she'd quite wish to +suggest that I made up to <i>him;</i> for that I should have +had to do so would only bring out his constancy. All +I mean is," she added—and now at last, as with a +supreme impatience "that her being able to make +him out a little a person who could give cause for +jealousy would evidently help her, since she's afraid +of him, to do him in her sister's mind a useful ill +turn." +</p><p> +Susan Shepherd perceived in this explanation such +signs of an appetite for motive as would have sat +gracefully even on one of her own New England +heroines. It was seeing round several corners; but +that was what New England heroines did, and it +was moreover interesting for the moment to make +out how many really her young friend had undertaken +to see round. Finally, too, weren't they braving +the deeps? They got their amusement where +they could. "Isn't it only," she asked, "rather +probable she'd see that Kate's knowing him as +(what's the pretty old word?) <i>volage</i>——?" +</p><p> +"Well?" She hadn't filled out her idea, but +neither, it seemed, could Milly. +</p><p> +"Well, might but do what that often does—by all +<i>our</i> blessed little laws and arrangements at least; excite +Kate's own sentiment instead of depressing it." +</p><p> +The idea was bright, yet the girl but beautifully +stared. "Kate's own sentiment? Oh, she didn't +speak of that. I don't think," she added as if she +had been unconsciously giving a wrong impression, +"I don't think Mrs. Condrip imagines <i>she's</i> in love." +</p><p> +It made Mrs. Stringham stare in turn. "Then +what's her fear?" +</p><p> +"Well, only the fact of Mr. Densher's possibly +himself keeping it up—the fear of some final result +from <i>that.</i> +</p><p> +"Oh," said Susie, intellectually a little disconcerted—"she +looks far ahead!" +</p><p> +At this, however, Milly threw off another of her +sudden vague "sports." "No—it's only we who +do." +</p><p> +"Well, don't let us be more interested for them +than they are for themselves!" +</p><p> +"Certainly not"—the girl promptly assented. A +certain interest nevertheless remained; she appeared +to wish to be clear. "It wasn't of anything on +Kate's own part she spoke." +</p><p> +"You mean she thinks her sister does <i>not</i> care for +him?" +</p><p> +It was still as if, for an instant, Milly had to be +sure of what she meant; but there it presently was. +"If she did care Mrs. Condrip would have told me." +</p><p> +What Susan Shepherd seemed hereupon for a little +to wonder was why then they had been talking +so. "But did you ask her?" +</p><p> +"Ah, no!" +</p><p> +"Oh!" said Susan Shepherd. +</p><p> +Milly, however, easily explained that she wouldn't +have asked her for the world. +</p> +<br><br> +<h2 align="center">BOOK FIFTH</h2> +<br> +<h2 align="center">X</h2> +<p> +Lord Mark looked at her to-day in particular +as if to wring from her a confession +that she had originally done him injustice; +and he was entitled to whatever there might be +in it of advantage or merit that his intention really +in a manner took effect: he cared about something, +that is, after all, sufficiently to make her +feel absurdly as if she <i>were</i> confessing—all the +while it was quite the case that neither justice +nor injustice was what had been in question between +them. He had presented himself at the hotel, +had found her and had found Susan Shepherd at +home, had been "civil" to Susan—it was just that +shade, and Susan's fancy had fondly caught it; and +then had come again and missed them, and then had +come and found them once more: besides letting +them easily see that if it hadn't by this time been the +end of everything—which they could feel in the exhausted +air, that of the season at its last gasp—the +places they might have liked to go to were such as +they would have had only to mention. Their feeling +was—or at any rate their modest general plea—that +there was no place they would have liked to go to; +there was only the sense of finding they liked, wherever +they were, the place to which they had been +brought. Such was highly the case as to their current +consciousness—which could be indeed, in an +equally eminent degree, but a matter of course; impressions +this afternoon having by a happy turn of +their wheel been gathered for them into a splendid +cluster, an offering like an armful of the rarest +flowers. They were in presence of the offering—they +had been led up to it; and if it had been still +their habit to look at each other across distances for +increase of unanimity his hand would have been silently +named between them as the hand applied to the +wheel. He had administered the touch that, under +light analysis, made the difference—the difference of +their not having lost, as Susie on the spot and at +the hour phrased it again and again, both for herself +and for such others as the question might concern, +so beautiful and interesting an experience; the difference +also, in fact, of Mrs. Lowder's not having +lost it either, though it was with Mrs. Lowder, superficially, +they had come, and though it was further +with that lady that our young woman was directly +engaged during the half-hour or so of her most +agreeably inward response to the scene. +</p><p> +The great historic house had, for Milly, beyond +terrace and garden, as the centre of an almost extravagantly +grand Watteau-composition, a tone as +of old gold kept "down" by the quality of the air, +summer full-flushed, but attuned to the general perfect +taste. Much, by her measure, for the previous +hour, appeared, in connection with this revelation of +it, to have happened to her—a quantity expressed in +introductions of charming new people, in walks +through halls of armour, of pictures, of cabinets, of +tapestry, of tea-tables, in an assault of reminders +that this largeness of style was the sign of <i>appointed</i> +felicity. The largeness of style was the great containing +vessel, while everything else, the pleasant +personal affluence, the easy, murmurous welcome, +the honoured age of illustrious host and hostess, all +at once so distinguished and so plain, so public and +so shy, became but this or that element of the infusion. +The elements melted together and seasoned +the draught, the essence of which might have struck +the girl as distilled into the small cup of iced coffee +she had vaguely accepted from somebody, while a +fuller flood, somehow, kept bearing her up—all the +freshness of response of her young life the freshness +of the first and only prime. What had perhaps +brought on just now a kind of climax was the fact +of her appearing to make out, through Aunt Maud, +what was really the matter. It couldn't be less than +a climax for a poor shaky maiden to find it put to +her of a sudden that she herself was the matter—for +that was positively what, on Mrs. Lowder's part, it +came to. Everything was great, of course, in great +pictures, and it was doubtless precisely a part of the +brilliant life—since the brilliant life, as one had faintly +figured it, clearly <i>was</i> humanly led—that all impressions +within its area partook of its brilliancy; +still, letting that pass, it fairly stamped an hour as +with the official seal for one to be able to take in so +comfortably one's companion's broad blandness. +"You must stay among us—you must stay; anything +else is impossible and ridiculous; you don't +know yet, no doubt—you can't; but you will soon +enough: you can stay in <i>any</i> position." It had been +as the murmurous consecration to follow the murmurous +welcome; and even if it were but part of +Aunt Maud's own spiritual ebriety—for the dear +woman, one could see, was spiritually "keeping" +the day—it served to Milly, then and afterwards, as +a high-water mark of the imagination. +</p><p> +It was to be the end of the short parenthesis which +had begun but the other day at Lancaster Gate with +Lord Mark's informing her that she was a "success"—the +key thus again struck; and though no +distinct, no numbered revelations had crowded in, +there had, as we have seen, been plenty of incident +for the space and the time. There had been thrice +as much, and all gratuitous and genial—if, in portions, +not exactly hitherto <i>the</i> revelation—as three +unprepared weeks could have been expected to produce. +Mrs. Lowder had improvised a "rush" for +them, but out of elements, as Milly was now a little +more freely aware, somewhat roughly combined. +Therefore if at this very instant she had her reasons +for thinking of the parenthesis as about to close—reasons +completely personal—she had on behalf of +her companion a divination almost as deep. The +parenthesis would close with this admirable picture, +but the admirable picture still would show Aunt +Maud as not absolutely sure either if she herself were +destined to remain in it. What she was doing, +Milly might even not have escaped seeming to see, +was to talk herself into a sublimer serenity while she +ostensibly talked Milly. It was fine, the girl fully +felt, the way she did talk <i>her,</i> little as, at bottom, our +young woman needed it or found other persuasions +at fault. It was in particular during the minutes of +her grateful absorption of iced coffee—qualified by +a sharp doubt of her wisdom—that she most had in +view Lord Mark's relation to her being there, or at +least to the question of her being amused at it. It +wouldn't have taken much by the end of five minutes +quite to make her feel that this relation was charming. +It might, once more, simply have been that +everything, anything, was charming when one was so +justly and completely charmed; but, frankly, she had +not supposed anything so serenely sociable could define +itself between them as the friendly understanding +that was at present somehow in the air. They were, +many of them together, near the marquee that had +been erected on a stretch of sward as a temple of refreshment +and that happened to have the property—which +was all to the good of making Milly think +of a "durbar"; her iced coffee had been a consequence +of this connection, in which, further, the +bright company scattered about fell thoroughly into +place. Certain of its members might have represented +the contingent of "native princes"—familiar, +but scarce the less grandly gregarious term!—and +Lord Mark would have done for one of these even +though for choice he but presented himself as a +supervisory friend of the family. The Lancaster +Gate family, he clearly intended, in which he included +its American recruits, and included above all Kate +Croy—a young person blessedly easy to take care of. +She knew people, and people knew her, and she was +the handsomest thing there—this last a declaration +made by Milly, in a sort of soft mid-summer madness, +a straight skylark-flight of charity, to Aunt +Maud. +</p><p> +Kate had, for her new friend's eyes, the extraordinary +and attaching property of appearing at a given +moment to show as a beautiful stranger, to cut her +connections and lose her identity, letting the imagination +for the time make what it would of them—make +her merely a person striking from afar, more +and more pleasing as one watched, but who was +above all a subject for curiosity. Nothing could +have given her, as a party to a relation, a greater +freshness than this sense—which sprang up at its +own hours—of being as curious about her as if one +hadn't known her. It had sprung up, we have gathered, +as soon as Milly had seen her after hearing +from Mrs. Stringham of her knowledge of Merton +Densher; she had <i>looked</i> then other and, as Milly +knew the real critical mind would call it, more objective; +and our young woman had foreseen it of +her, on the spot, that she would often look so again. +It was exactly what she was doing this afternoon; +and Milly, who had amusements of thought that +were like the secrecies of a little girl playing with +dolls when conventionally "too big," could almost +settle to the game of what one would suppose her, +how one would place her, if one didn't know her. +She became thus, intermittently, a figure conditioned +only by the great facts of aspect, a figure to be waited +for, named and fitted. This was doubtless but a +way of feeling that it was of her essence to be peculiarly +what the occasion, whatever it might be, demanded +when its demand was highest. There were +probably ways enough, on these lines, for such a consciousness; +another of them would be, for instance, +to say that she was made for great social uses. Milly +was not wholly sure that she herself knew what great +social uses might be—unless, as a good example, +exerting just that sort of glamour in just that sort +of frame were one of them: she would have fallen +back on knowing sufficiently that they existed at all +events for her friend. It imputed a primness, all +round, to be reduced but to saying, by way of a translation +of one's amusement, that she was always so +<i>right</i>—since that, too often, was what the <i>insupportables</i> +themselves were; yet it was, in overflow to +Aunt Maud, what she had to content herself withal—save +for the lame enhancement of saying she was +lovely. It served, all the same, the purpose, strengthened +the bond that for the time held the two ladies +together, distilled in short its drop of rose-colour for +Mrs. Lowder's own view. That was really the view +Milly had, for most of the rest of the occasion, to +give herself to immediately taking in; but it didn't +prevent the continued play of those swift cross-lights, +odd beguilements of the mind, at which we +have already glanced. +</p><p> +Mrs. Lowder herself found it enough simply to +reply, in respect to Kate, that she was indeed a luxury +to take about the world: she expressed no +more surprise than that at her "rightness" to-day. +Wasn't it by this time sufficiently manifest that it +was precisely as the very luxury she was proving +that she had, from far back, been appraised and +waited for? Crude elation, however, might be kept +at bay, and the circumstance none the less demonstrated +that they were all swimming together in the +blue. It came back to Lord Mark again, as he +seemed slowly to pass and repass and conveniently +to linger before them; he was personally the note +of the blue—like a suspended skein of silk within +reach of the broiderer's hand. Aunt Maud's free-moving +shuttle took a length of him at rhythmic intervals; +and one of the intermixed truths that flickered +across to Milly was that he ever so consentingly +knew he was being worked in. This was almost like +an understanding with her at Mrs. Lowder's expense, +which she would have none of; she wouldn't +for the world have had him make any such point as +that he wouldn't have launched them at Matcham—or +whatever it was he <i>had</i> done—only for Aunt +Maud's <i>beaux yeux.</i> What he had done, it would +have been guessable, was something he had for some +time been desired in vain to do; and what they were +all now profiting by was a change comparatively sudden, +the cessation of hope delayed. What had +caused the cessation easily showed itself as none of +Milly's business; and she was luckily, for that matter, +in no real danger of hearing from him directly +that her individual weight had been felt in the scale. +Why then indeed was it an effect of his diffused but +subdued participation that he might absolutely have +been saying to her "Yes, let the dear woman take +her own tone? Since she's here she may stay," he +might have been adding—"for whatever she can +make of it. But you and I are different." Milly +knew <i>she</i> was different in truth—his own difference +was his own affair; but also she knew that, after all, +even at their distinctest, Lord Mark's "tips" in this +line would be tacit. He practically placed her—it +came round again to that—under no obligation +whatever. It was a matter of equal ease, moreover, +her letting Mrs. Lowder take a tone. She might +have taken twenty—they would have spoiled nothing. +</p><p> +"You must stay on with us; you <i>can,</i> you know, +in any position you like; any, any, <i>any,</i> my dear +child"—and her emphasis went deep. "You must +make your home with us; and it's really open to you +to make the most beautiful one in the world. You +mustn't be under a mistake—under any of any sort; +and you must let us all think for you a little, take +care of you and watch over you. Above all you must +help me with Kate, and you must stay a little <i>for</i> +her; nothing for a long time has happened to me so +good as that you and she should have become friends. +It's beautiful; it's great; it's everything. What +makes it perfect is that it should have come about +through our dear delightful Susie, restored to me, +after so many years, by such a miracle. No—that's +more charming to me than even your hitting it off +with Kate. God has been good to one—positively; +for I couldn't, at my age, have made a new friend—undertaken, +I mean, out of whole cloth, the real +thing. It's like changing one's bankers—after fifty: +one doesn't do that. That's why Susie has been +kept for me, as you seem to keep people in your wonderful +country, in lavender and pink paper—coming +back at last as straight as out of a fairy-tale and with +you as an attendant fairy." Milly hereupon replied +appreciatively that such a description of herself made +her feel as if pink paper were her dress and lavender +its trimming; but Aunt Maud was not to be deterred +by a weak joke from keeping it up. Her interlocutress +could feel besides that she kept it up in perfect +sincerity. She was somehow at this hour a very +happy woman, and a part of her happiness might +precisely have been that her affections and her views +were moving as never before in concert. Unquestionably +she loved Susie; but she also loved Kate +and loved Lord Mark, loved their funny old host and +hostess, loved every one within range, down to the +very servant who came to receive Milly's empty iceplate—down, +for that matter, to Milly herself, who +was, while she talked, really conscious of the enveloping +flap of a protective mantle, a shelter with the +weight of an eastern carpet. An eastern carpet, for +wishing-purposes of one's own, was a thing to be on +rather than under; still, however, if the girl should +fail of breath it wouldn't be, she could feel, by Mrs. +Lowder's fault. One of the last things she was +afterwards to recall of this was Aunt Maud's going +on to say that she and Kate must stand together because +together they could do anything. It was for +Kate of course she was essentially planning; but the +plan, enlarged and uplifted now, somehow required +Milly's prosperity too for its full operation, just as +Milly's prosperity at the same time involved Kate's. +It was nebulous yet, it was slightly confused, but it +was unmistakably free and genial, and it made our +young woman understand things Kate had said of +her aunt's possibilities as well as characterisations +that had fallen from Susan Shepherd. One of the +most frequent on the lips of the latter had been that +dear Maud was a natural force. +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">XI</h2> +<br> +<p> +A prime reason, we must add, why sundry impressions +were not to be fully present to the girl till later +on was that they yielded at this stage, with an effect +of sharp supersession, to a detached quarter of an +hour—her only one—with Lord Mark. "Have you +seen the picture in the house, the beautiful one that's +so like you?"—he was asking that as he stood before +her; having come up at last with his smooth +intimation that any wire he had pulled and yet +wanted not to remind her of wasn't quite a reason for +his having no joy at all. +</p><p> +"I've been through rooms and I've seen pictures. +But if I'm 'like' anything so beautiful as most of +them seemed to me——!" It needed in short for +Milly some evidence, which he only wanted to supply. +She was the image of the wonderful Bronzino, +which she must have a look at on every ground. +He had thus called her off and led her away; the +more easily that the house within was above all what +had already drawn round her its mystic circle. +Their progress, meanwhile, was not of the straightest; +it was an advance, without haste, through innumerable +natural pauses and soft concussions, determined +for the most part by the appearance before +them of ladies and gentlemen, singly, in couples, in +groups, who brought them to a stand with an inveterate +"I say, Mark." What they said she never +quite made out; it was their all so domestically knowing +him, and his knowing them, that mainly struck +her, while her impression, for the rest, was but of +fellow-strollers more vaguely afloat than themselves, +supernumeraries mostly a little battered, whether as +jaunty males or as ostensibly elegant women. They +might have been moving a good deal by a momentum +that had begun far back, but they were still +brave and personable, still warranted for continuance +as long again, and they gave her, in especial +collectively, a sense of pleasant voices, pleasanter +than those of actors, of friendly, empty words and +kind, lingering eyes. The lingering eyes looked her +over, the lingering eyes were what went, in almost +confessed simplicity, with the pointless "I say, +Mark "; and what was really most sensible of all +was that, as a pleasant matter of course, if she didn't +mind, he seemed to suggest their letting people, poor +dear things, have the benefit of her. +</p><p> +The odd part was that he made her herself believe, +for amusement, in the benefit, measured by him in +mere manner—for wonderful, of a truth, was, as a +means of expression, his slightness of emphasis—that +her present good-nature conferred. It was, as +she could easily see, a mild common carnival of +good-nature—a mass of London people together, of +sorts and sorts, but who mainly knew each other and +who, in their way, did, no doubt, confess to curiosity. +It had gone round that she was there; questions +about her would be passing; the easiest thing was +to run the gauntlet with <i>him</i>—just as the easiest +thing was in fact to trust him generally. Couldn't +she know for herself, passively, how little harm they +meant her?—to that extent that it made no difference +whether or not he introduced them. The +strangest thing of all for Milly was perhaps the uplifted +assurance and indifference with which she +could simply give back the particular bland stare that +appeared in such cases to mark civilisation at its +highest. It was so little her fault, this oddity of +what had "gone round" about her, that to accept +it without question might be as good a way as another +of feeling life. It was inevitable to supply the +probable description—that of the awfully rich young +American who was so queer to behold, but nice, by +all accounts, to know; and she had really but one +instant of speculation as to fables or fantasies perchance +originally launched. She asked herself once +only if Susie could, inconceivably, have been blatant +about her; for the question, on the spot, was really +blown away for ever. She knew in fact on the spot +and with sharpness just why she had "elected" +Susan Shepherd: she had had from the first hour the +conviction of her being precisely the person in the +world least possibly a trumpeter. So it wasn't their +fault, it wasn't their fault, and anything might happen +that would, and everything now again melted +together, and kind eyes were always kind eyes—if it +were never to be worse than that! She got with her +companion into the house; they brushed, beneficently, +past all their accidents. The Bronzino was, it +appeared, deep within, and the long afternoon light +lingered for them on patches of old colour and waylaid +them, as they went, in nooks and opening +vistas. +</p><p> +It was all the while for Milly as if Lord Mark had +really had something other than this spoken pretext +in view; as if there were something he wanted to say +to her and were only—consciously yet not awkwardly, +just delicately—hanging fire. At the same time +it was as if the thing had practically been said by the +moment they came in sight of the picture; since +what it appeared to amount to was "Do let a fellow +who isn't a fool take care of you a little." The thing +somehow, with the aid of the Bronzino, was done; +it hadn't seemed to matter to her before if he were +a fool or no; but now, just where they were, she +liked his not being; and it was all moreover none +the worse for coming back to something of the same +sound as Mrs. Lowder's so recent reminder. She +too wished to take care of her—and wasn't it, <i>ŕ peu +prčs,</i> what all the people with the kind eyes were +wishing? Once more things melted together—the +beauty and the history and the facility and the splendid +midsummer glow: it was a sort of magnificent +maximum, the pink dawn of an apotheosis, coming +so curiously soon. What in fact befell was that, as +she afterwards made out, it was Lord Mark who said +nothing in particular—it was she herself who said +all. She couldn't help that—it came; and the reason +it came was that she found herself, for the first moment, +looking at the mysterious portrait through +tears. Perhaps it was her tears that made it just +then so strange and fair—as wonderful as he had +said: the face of a young woman, all magnificently +drawn, down to the hands, and magnificently +dressed; a face almost livid in hue, yet handsome in +sadness and crowned with a mass of hair rolled back +and high, that must, before fading with time, have +had a family resemblance to her own. The lady in +question, at all events, with her slightly Michaelangelesque +squareness, her eyes of other days, her +full lips, her long neck, her recorded jewels, her brocaded +and wasted reds, was a very great personage—only +unaccompanied by a joy. And she was dead, +dead, dead. Milly recognised her exactly in words +that had nothing to do with her. "I shall never be +better than this." +</p><p> +He smiled for her at the portrait. "Than she? +You'd scarce need to be better, for surely that's well +enough. But you <i>are,</i> one feels, as it happens, better; +because, splendid as she is, one doubts if she +was good." +</p><p> +He hadn't understood. She was before the picture, +but she had turned to him, and she didn't care +if, for the minute, he noticed her tears. It was probably +as good a moment as she should ever have with +him. It was perhaps as good a moment as she +should have with any one, or have in any connection +whatever. "I mean that everything this afternoon +has been too beautiful, and that perhaps everything +together will never be so right again. I'm very glad +therefore you've been a part of it." +</p><p> +Though he still didn't understand her he was as +nice as if he had; he didn't ask for insistence, and +that was just a part of his looking after her. He +simply protected her now from herself, and there +was a world of practice in it. "Oh, we must talk +about these things!" +</p><p> +Ah, they had already done that, she knew, as much +as she ever would; and she was shaking her head at +her pale sister the next moment with a world, on her +side, of slowness. "I wish I could see the resemblance. +Of course her complexion's green," she +laughed; "but mine's several shades greener." +</p><p> +"It's down to the very hands," said Lord Mark. +</p><p> +"Her hands are large," Milly went on, "but mine +are larger. Mine are huge." +</p><p> +"Oh, you go her, all round, 'one better'—which +is just what I said. But you're a pair. You must +surely catch it," he added as if it were important to +his character as a serious man not to appear to have +invented his plea. +</p><p> +"I don't know one never knows one's self. It's +a funny fancy, and I don't imagine it would have +occurred——" +</p><p> +"I see it <i>has</i> occurred"—he has already taken her +up. She had her back, as she faced the picture, to +one of the doors of the room, which was open, and +on her turning, as he spoke, she saw that they were +in the presence of three other persons, also, as appeared, +interested inquirers. Kate Croy was one of +these; Lord Mark had just become aware of her, +and she, all arrested, had immediately seen, and made +the best of it, that she was far from being first in +the field. She had brought a lady and a gentleman +to whom she wished to show what Lord Mark was +showing Milly, and he took her straightway as a reinforcement. +Kate herself had spoken, however, +before he had had time to tell her so. +</p><p> +<i>"You</i> had noticed too?"—she smiled at him without +looking at Milly. "Then I'm not original—which +one always hopes one has been. But the likeness +is so great." And now she looked at Milly—for +whom again it was, all round indeed, kind, kind +eyes. "Yes, there you are, my dear, if you want to +know. And you're superb." She took now but a +glance at the picture, though it was enough to make +her question to her friends not too straight. "Isn't +she superb?" +</p><p> +"I brought Miss Theale," Lord Mark explained +to the latter, "quite off my own bat." +</p><p> +"I wanted Lady Aldershaw," Kate continued to +Milly, "to see for herself." +</p><p> +<i>"Les grands esprits se rencontrent!"</i> laughed her +attendant gentleman, a high, but slightly stooping, +shambling and wavering person, who represented +urbanity by the liberal aid of certain prominent front +teeth and whom Milly vaguely took for some sort of +great man. +</p><p> +Lady Aldershaw meanwhile looked at Milly quite +as if Milly had been the Bronzino and the Bronzino +only Milly. "Superb, superb. Of course I had +noticed you. It is wonderful," she went on with her +back to the picture, but with some other eagerness +which Milly felt gathering, directing her motions +now. It was enough—they were introduced, and +she was saying "I wonder if you could give us the +pleasure of coming——" She was not fresh, for +she was not young, even though she denied at every +pore that she was old; but she was vivid and much +bejewelled for the midsummer daylight; and she +was all in the palest pinks and blues. She didn't +think, at this pass, that she could "come" anywhere—Milly +didn't; and she already knew that somehow +Lord Mark was saving her from the question. He +had interposed, taking the words out of the lady's +mouth and not caring at all if the lady minded. That +was clearly the right way to treat her—at least for +him; as she had only dropped, smiling, and then +turned away with him. She had been dealt with—it +would have done an enemy good. The gentleman +still stood, a little helpless, addressing himself to the +intention of urbanity as if it were a large loud +whistle; he had been signing sympathy, in his way, +while the lady made her overture; and Milly had, +in this light, soon arrived at their identity. They +were Lord and Lady Aldershaw, and the wife was +the clever one. A minute or two later the situation +had changed, and she knew it afterwards to have +been by the subtle operation of Kate. She was herself +saying that she was afraid she must go now if +Susie could be found; but she was sitting down on +the nearest seat to say it. The prospect, through +opened doors, stretched before her into other rooms, +down the vista of which Lord Mark was strolling +with Lady Aldershaw, who, close to him and much +intent, seemed to show from behind as peculiarly +expert. Lord Aldershaw, for his part, had been left +in the middle of the room, while Kate, with her back +to him, was standing before her with much sweetness +of manner. The sweetness was all for <i>her;</i> she had +the sense of the poor gentleman's having somehow +been handled as Lord Mark had handled his wife. +He dangled there, he shambled a little; then he bethought +himself of the Bronzino, before which, with +his eyeglass, he hovered. It drew from him an odd, +vague sound, not wholly distinct from a grunt, and +a "Humph—most remarkable!" which lighted +Kate's face with amusement. The next moment he +had creaked away, over polished floors, after the +others, and Milly was feeling as if <i>she</i> had been rude. +But Lord Aldershaw was in every way a detail, and +Kate was saying to her that she hoped she wasn't +ill. +</p><p> +Thus it was that, aloft there in the great gilded +historic chamber and the presence of the pale personage +on the wall, whose eyes all the while seemed +engaged with her own, she found herself suddenly +sunk in something quite intimate and humble and to +which these grandeurs were strange enough witnesses. +It had come up, in the form in which she +had had to accept it, all suddenly, and nothing about +it, at the same time, was more marked than that she +had in a manner plunged into it to escape from something +else. Something else, from her first vision of +her friend's appearance three minutes before, had +been present to her even through the call made by +the others on her attention; something that was perversely +<i>there,</i> she was more and more uncomfortably +finding, at least for the first moments and by some +spring of its own, with every renewal of their meeting. +"Is it the way she looks to <i>him?"</i> she asked +herself—the perversity being that she kept in remembrance +that Kate was known to him. It wasn't +a fault in Kate—nor in him assuredly; and she had +a horror, being generous and tender, of treating +either of them as if it had been. To Densher himself +she couldn't make it up—he was too far away; +but her secondary impulse was to make it up to Kate. +She did so now with a strange soft energy—the impulse +immediately acting. "Will you render me +to-morrow a great service?" +</p><p> +"Any service, dear child, in the world." +</p><p> +"But it's a secret one—nobody must know. I +must be wicked and false about it." +</p><p> +"Then I'm your woman," Kate smiled, "for +that's the kind of thing I love. <i>Do</i> let us do something +bad. You're impossibly without sin, you +know." +</p><p> +Milly's eyes, on this, remained a little with their +companion's. "Ah, I shan't perhaps come up to +your idea. It's only to deceive Susan Shepherd." +</p><p> +"Oh!" said Kate as if this were indeed mild. +</p><p> +"But thoroughly—as thoroughly as I can." +</p><p> +"And for cheating," Kate asked, "my powers +will contribute? Well, I'll do my best for you." In +accordance with which it was presently settled between +them that Milly should have the aid and comfort +of her presence for a visit to Sir Luke Strett. +Kate had needed a minute for enlightenment, and it +was quite grand for her comrade that this name +should have said nothing to her. To Milly herself +it had for some days been secretly saying much. The +personage in question was, as she explained, the +greatest of medical lights if she had got hold, as +she believed (and she had used to this end the wisdom +of the serpent) of the right, the special man. +She had written to him three days before, and he +had named her an hour, eleven-twenty; only it had +come to her, on the eve, that she couldn't go alone. +Her maid, on the other hand, wasn't good enough, +and Susie was too good. Kate had listened, above +all, with high indulgence. "And I'm betwixt and +between, happy thought! Too good for what?" +</p><p> +Milly thought. "Why, to be worried if it's nothing. +And to be still more worried—I mean before +she need be—if it isn't." +</p><p> +Kate fixed her with deep eyes. "What in the +world is the matter with you?" It had inevitably +a sound of impatience, as if it had been a challenge +really to produce something; so that Milly felt her +for the moment only as a much older person, standing +above her a little, doubting the imagined ailments, +suspecting the easy complaints, of ignorant +youth. It somewhat checked her, further, that the +matter with her was what exactly as yet she wanted +knowledge about; and she immediately declared, for +conciliation, that if she were merely fanciful Kate +would see her put to shame. Kate vividly uttered, +in return, the hope that, since she could come out and +be so charming, could so universally dazzle and interest, +she wasn't all the while in distress or in anxiety—didn't +believe herself, in short, to be in any +degree seriously menaced. "Well, I want to make +out—to make out!" was all that this consistently +produced. To which Kate made clear answer: +"Ah then, let us by all means!" +</p><p> +"I thought," Milly said, "you would like to help +me. But I must ask you, please, for the promise +of absolute silence." +</p><p> +"And how, if you <i>are</i> ill, can your friends remain +in ignorance?" +</p><p> +"Well, if I am, it must of course finally come out. +But I can go for a long time." Milly spoke with her +eyes again on her painted sister's—almost as if under +their suggestion. She still sat there before Kate, yet +not without a light in her face. "That will be one +of my advantages. I think I could die without its +being noticed." +</p><p> +"You're an extraordinary young woman," her +friend, visibly held by her, declared at last. "What +a remarkable time to talk of such things!" +</p><p> +"Well, we won't talk, precisely"—Milly got herself +together again. "I only wanted to make sure +of you." +</p><p> +"Here in the midst of——!" But Kate could +only sigh for wonder—almost visibly too for +pity. +</p><p> +It made a moment during which her companion +waited on her word; partly as if from a yearning, +shy but deep, to have her case put to her just as Kate +was struck by it; partly as if the hint of pity were +already giving a sense to her whimsical "shot," with +Lord Mark, at Mrs. Lowder's first dinner. Exactly +this—the handsome girl's compassionate manner, +her friendly descent from her own strength—was +what she had then foretold. She took Kate up as if +positively for the deeper taste of it. "Here in the +midst of what?" +</p><p> +"Of everything. There's nothing you can't have. +There's nothing you can't do." +</p><p> +"So Mrs. Lowder tells me." +</p><p> +It just kept Kate's eyes fixed as possibly for more +of that; then, however, without waiting, she went +on. "We all adore you." +</p><p> +"You're wonderful—you dear things!" Milly +laughed. +</p><p> +"No, it's <i>you."</i> And Kate seemed struck with +the real interest of it. "In three weeks!" +</p><p> +Milly kept it up. "Never were people on such +terms! All the more reason," she added, "that I +shouldn't needlessly torment you." +</p><p> +"But me? what becomes of <i>me?"</i> said Kate. +</p><p> +"Well, you—" Milly thought—"if there's anything +to bear, you'll bear it." +</p><p> +"But I <i>won't</i> bear it!" said Kate Croy. +</p><p> +"Oh yes, you will: all the same! You'll pity me +awfully, but you'll help me very much. And I absolutely +trust you. So there we are." There they +were, then, since Kate had so to take it; but there, +Milly felt, she herself in particular was; for it was +just the point at which she had wished to arrive. +She had wanted to prove to herself that she didn't +horribly blame her friend for any reserve; and what +better proof could there be than this quite special +confidence? If she desired to show Kate that she +really believed the latter liked her, how could she +show it more than by asking her for help? +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">XII</h2> +<br> +<p> +What it really came to, on the morrow, this first +time—the time Kate went with her—was that the +great man had, a little, to excuse himself; had, by a +rare accident—for he kept his consulting-hours in +general rigorously free—but ten minutes to give her; +ten mere minutes which he yet placed at her service +in a manner that she admired even more than she +could meet it: so crystal-clean the great empty cup +of attention that he set between them on the table. +He was presently to jump into his carriage, but he +promptly made the point that he must see her again, +see her within a day or two; and he named for her +at once another hour—easing her off beautifully too +even then in respect to her possibly failing of justice +to her errand. The minutes affected her in fact as +ebbing more swiftly than her little army of items +could muster, and they would probably have gone +without her doing much more than secure another +hearing, had it not been for her sense, at the last, +that she had gained above all an impression. The +impression—all the sharp growth of the final few +moments—was neither more nor less than that she +might make, of a sudden, in quite another world, +another straight friend, and a friend who would +moreover be, wonderfully, the most appointed, the +most thoroughly adjusted of the whole collection, +inasmuch as he would somehow wear the character +scientifically, ponderably, proveably—not just loosely +and sociably. Literally, furthermore, it wouldn't +really depend on herself, Sir Luke Strett's friendship, +in the least; perhaps what made her most stammer +and pant was its thus queerly coming over her +that she might find she had interested him even beyond +her intention, find she was in fact launched in +some current that would lose itself in the sea of science. +At the same time that she struggled, however, +she also surrendered; there was a moment at which +she almost dropped the form of stating, of explaining, +and threw herself, without violence, only with +a supreme pointless quaver that had turned, the next +instant, to an intensity of interrogative stillness, +upon his general goodwill. His large, settled face, +though firm, was not, as she had thought at first, +hard; he looked, in the oddest manner, to her fancy, +half like a general and half like a bishop, and she +was soon sure that, within some such handsome +range, what it would show her would be what was +good, what was best for her. She had established, +in other words, in this time-saving way, a relation +with it; and the relation was the special trophy that, +for the hour, she bore off. It was like an absolute +possession, a new resource altogether, something +done up in the softest silk and tucked away under +the arm of memory. She hadn't had it when she +went in, and she had it when she came out; she had +it there under her cloak, but dissimulated, invisibly +carried, when smiling, smiling, she again faced Kate +Croy. That young lady had of course awaited her +in another room, where, as the great man was to absent +himself, no one else was in attendance; and she +rose for her with such a face of sympathy as might +have graced the vestibule of a dentist. "Is it out?" +she seemed to ask as if it had been a question of a +tooth; and Milly indeed kept her in no suspense +at all. +</p><p> +"He's a dear. I'm to come again." +</p><p> +"But what does he say?" +</p><p> +Milly was almost gay. "That I'm not to worry +about anything in the world, and that if I'll be a good +girl and do exactly what he tells me, he'll take care +of me for ever and ever." +</p><p> +Kate wondered as if things scarce fitted. "But +does he allow then that you're ill?" +</p><p> +"I don't know what he allows, and I don't care. +I shall know, and whatever it is it will be enough. +He knows all about me, and I like it. I don't hate +it a bit." +</p><p> +Still, however, Kate stared. "But could he, in so +few minutes, ask you enough——?" +</p><p> +"He asked me scarcely anything—he doesn't +need to do anything so stupid," Milly said. "He +can tell. He knows," she repeated; "and when I +go back—for he'll have thought me over a little—it +will be all right." +</p><p> +Kate, after a moment, made the best of this. +"Then when are we to come?" +</p><p> +It just pulled her friend up, for even while they +talked—at least it was one of the reasons—she stood +there suddenly, irrelevantly, in the light of her <i>other</i> +identity, the identity she would have for Mr. Densher. +This was always, from one instant to another, +an incalculable light, which, though it might go off +faster than it came on, necessarily disturbed. It +sprang, with a perversity all its own, from the fact +that, with the lapse of hours and days, the chances +themselves that made for his being named continued +so oddly to fail. There were twenty, there were +fifty, but none of them turned up. This, in particular, +was of course not a juncture at which the least +of them would naturally be present; but it would +make, none the less, Milly saw, another day practically +all stamped with avoidance. She saw in a +quick glimmer, and with it all Kate's unconsciousness; +and then she shook off the obsession. But it +had lasted long enough to qualify her response. No, +she had shown Kate how she trusted her; and that, +for loyalty, would somehow do. "Oh, dear thing, +now that the ice is broken I shan't trouble <i>you</i> again." +</p><p> +"You'll come alone?" +</p><p> +"Without a scruple. Only I shall ask you, please, +for your absolute discretion still." +</p><p> +Outside, before the door, on the wide pavement +of the great square, they had to wait again while +their carriage, which Milly had kept, completed a +further turn of exercise, engaged in by the coachman +for reasons of his own. The footman was there, +and had indicated that he was making the circuit; +so Kate went on while they stood. "But don't you +ask a good deal, darling, in proportion to what you +give?" +</p><p> +This pulled Milly up still shorter—so short in fact +that she yielded as soon as she had taken it in. But +she continued to smile. "I see. Then you <i>can</i> +tell." +</p><p> +"I don't want to 'tell,'" said Kate. "I'll be as +silent as the tomb if I can only have the truth from +you. All I want is that you shouldn't keep from me +how you find out that you really are." +</p><p> +"Well then, I won't, ever. But you see for yourself," +Milly went on, "how I really am. I'm satisfied. +I'm happy." +</p><p> +Kate looked at her long. "I believe you like it. +The way things turn out for you——!" +</p><p> +Milly met her look now without a thought of anything +but the spoken. She had ceased to be Mr. +Densher's image; she was all her own memento +and she was none the less fine. Still, still, what had +passed was a fair bargain, and it would do. "Of +course I like it. I feel—I can't otherwise describe +it—as if I had been, on my knees, to the priest. I've +confessed and I've been absolved. It has been lifted +off." +</p><p> +Kate's eyes never quitted her. "He must have +liked <i>you."</i> +</p><p> +"Oh—doctors!" Milly said. "But I hope," she +added, "he didn't like me too much." Then as if +to escape a little from her friend's deeper sounding, +or as impatient for the carriage, not yet in sight, her +eyes, turning away, took in the great stale square. +As its staleness, however, was but that of London +fairly fatigued, the late hot London with its dance +all danced and its story all told, the air seemed a +thing of blurred pictures and mixed echoes, and an +impression met the sense—an impression that broke, +the next moment, through the girl's tightened lips. +"Oh, it's a beautiful big world, and everyone, yes, +everyone——!" It presently brought her back to +Kate, and she hoped she didn't actually look as much +as if she were crying as she must have looked to +Lord Mark among the portraits at Matcham. +</p><p> +Kate at all events understood. "Everyone wants +to be so nice?" +</p><p> +"So nice," said the grateful Milly. +</p><p> +"Oh," Kate laughed, "we'll pull you through! +And won't you now bring Mrs. Stringham?" +</p><p> +But Milly after an instant was again clear about +that. "Not till I've seen him once more." +</p><p> +She was to have found this preference, two days +later, abundantly justified; and yet when, in prompt +accordance with what had passed between them, she +reappeared before her distinguished friend—that +character having, for him, in the interval, built itself +up still higher—the first thing he asked her was +whether she had been accompanied. She told him, +on this, straightway, everything; completely free at +present from her first embarrassment, disposed even—as +she felt she might become—to undue volubility, +and conscious moreover of no alarm from his thus +perhaps wishing that she had not come alone. It +was exactly as if, in the forty-eight hours that had +passed, her acquaintance with him had somehow increased, +and his own knowledge in particular received +mysterious additions. They had been together, +before, scarce ten minutes; but the relation, +the one the ten minutes had so beautifully created, +was there to take straight up: and this not, on his +own part, from mere professional heartiness, mere +bedside manner, which she would have disliked—much +rather from a quiet, pleasant air in him of having +positively asked about her, asked here and there +and found out. Of course he couldn't in the least +have asked, or have wanted to; there was no source +of information to his hand, and he had really needed +none: he had found out simply by his genius—and +found out, she meant, literally everything. Now +she knew not only that she didn't dislike this—the +state of being found out about; but that, on the contrary, +it was truly what she had come for, and that, +for the time at least, it would give her something firm +to stand on. She struck herself as aware, aware as +she had never been, of really not having had from +the beginning anything firm. It would be strange +for the firmness to come, after all, from her learning +in these agreeable conditions that she was in some +way doomed; but above all it would prove how little +she had hitherto had to hold her up. If she was now +to be held up by the mere process—since that was +perhaps on the cards—of being let down, this would +only testify in turn to her queer little history. <i>That</i> +sense of loosely rattling had been no process at all; +and it was ridiculously true that her thus sitting there +to see her life put into the scales represented her first +approach to the taste of orderly living. Such was +Milly's romantic version—that her life, especially by +the fact of this second interview, <i>was</i> put into the +scales; and just the best part of the relation established +might have been, for that matter, that the +great grave charming man knew, had known at once, +that it was romantic, and in that measure allowed +for it. Her only doubt, her only fear, was whether +he perhaps wouldn't even take advantage of her being +a little romantic to treat her as romantic altogether. +This doubtless was her danger with him; +but she should see, and dangers in general meanwhile +dropped and dropped. +</p><p> +The very place, at the end of a few minutes, the +commodious, "handsome" room, far back in the fine +old house, soundless from position, somewhat sallow +with years of celebrity, somewhat sombre even at +midsummer—the very place put on for her a look of +custom and use, squared itself solidly round her as +with promises and certainties. She had come forth +to see the world, and this then was to be the world's +light, the rich dusk of a London "back," these the +world's walls, those the world's curtains and carpet. +She should be intimate with the great bronze clock +and mantel-ornaments, conspicuously presented in +gratitude and long ago; she should be as one of the +circle of eminent contemporaries, photographed, +engraved, signatured, and in particular framed and +glazed, who made up the rest of the decoration, and +made up as well so much of the human comfort; and +while she thought of all the clean truths, unfringed, +unfingered, that the listening stillness, strained into +pauses and waits, would again and again, for years, +have kept distinct, she also wondered what she would +eventually decide upon to present in gratitude. She +would give something better at least than the brawny +Victorian bronzes. This was precisely an instance +of what she felt he knew of her before he had done +with her: that she was secretly romancing at that +rate, in the midst of so much else that was more +urgent, all over the place. So much for her secrets +with him, none of which really required to be +phrased. It would have been, for example, a secret +for her from any one else that without a dear lady +she had picked up just before coming over she +wouldn't have a decently near connection, of any +sort, for such an appeal as she was making, to put +forward: no one in the least, as it were, to produce +for respectability. But <i>his</i> seeing it she didn't mind a +scrap, and not a scrap either his knowing how she +had left the dear lady in the dark. She had come +alone, putting her friend off with a fraud: giving +a pretext of shops, of a whim, of she didn't know +what—the amusement of being for once in the +streets by herself. The streets by herself were new +to her—she had always had in them a companion, or +a maid; and he was never to believe, moreover, that +she couldn't take full in the face anything he might +have to say. He was softly amused at her account +of her courage; though he yet showed it somehow +without soothing her too grossly. Still, he did want +to know whom she had. Hadn't there been a lady +with her on Wednesday? +</p><p> +"Yes—a different one. Not the one who's travelling +with me. I've told <i>her."</i> +</p><p> +Distinctly he was amused, and it added to his air—the +greatest charm of all—of giving her lots of +time. "You've told her what?" +</p><p> +"Well," said Milly, "that I visit you in secret." +</p><p> +"And how many persons will she tell?" +</p><p> +"Oh, she's devoted. Not one." +</p><p> +"Well, if she's devoted doesn't that make another +friend for you?" +</p><p> +It didn't take much computation, but she nevertheless +had to think a moment, conscious as she was +that he distinctly <i>would</i> want to fill out his notion +of her—even a little, as it were, to warm the air for +her. That, however—and better early than late—he +must accept as of no use; and she herself felt for +an instant quite a competent certainty on the subject +of any such warming. The air, for Milly Theale, +was, from the very nature of the case, destined never +to rid itself of a considerable chill. This she could +tell him with authority, if she could tell him nothing +else; and she seemed to see now, in short, that it +would importantly simplify. "Yes, it makes another; +but they all together wouldn't make—well, +I don't know what to call it but the difference. I +mean when one is—really alone. I've never seen +anything like the kindness." She pulled up a minute +while he waited—waited again as if with his reasons +for letting her, for almost making her, talk. What +she herself wanted was not, for the third time, to +cry, as it were, in public. She <i>had</i> never seen anything +like the kindness, and she wished to do it justice; +but she knew what she was about, and justice +was not wronged by her being able presently to stick +to her point. "Only one's situation is what it is. +It's me it concerns. The rest is delightful and useless. +Nobody can really help. That's why I'm by +myself to-day. I <i>want</i> to be—in spite of Miss Croy, +who came with me last. If you can help, so much +the better and also of course if one can, a little, +one's self. Except for that—you and me doing our +best—I like you to see me just as I am. Yes, I like +it—and I don't exaggerate. Shouldn't one, at the +start, show the worst—so that anything after that +may be better? It wouldn't make any real difference—it +<i>won't</i> make any, anything that may happen +won't—to any one. Therefore I feel myself, this +way, with you, just as I am; and—if you do in the +least care to know—it quite positively bears me up." +She put it as to his caring to know, because his +manner seemed to give her all her chance, and the +impression was there for her to take. It was strange +and deep for her, this impression, and she did, accordingly, +take it straight home. It showed him—showed +him in spite of himself—as allowing, somewhere +far within, things comparatively remote, +things in fact quite, as she would have said, outside, +delicately to weigh with him; showed him as interested, +on her behalf, in other questions beside the +question of what was the matter with her. She accepted +such an interest as regular in the highest type +of scientific mind—his <i>being</i> the even highest, magnificently +because otherwise, obviously, it wouldn't +be there; but she could at the same time take it as +a direct source of light upon herself, even though +that might present her a little as pretending to equal +him. Wanting to know more about a patient than +how a patient was constructed or deranged couldn't +be, even on the part of the greatest of doctors, anything +but some form or other of the desire to let +the patient down easily. When that was the case +the reason, in turn, could only be, too manifestly, +pity; and when pity held up its tell-tale face like +a head on a pike, in a French revolution, bobbing +before a window, what was the inference but that +the patient was bad? He might say what he would +now—she would always have seen the head at the +window; and in fact from this moment she only +wanted him to say what he would. He might say +it too with the greater ease to himself as there wasn't +one of her divinations that—as her own—he would +in any way put himself out for. Finally, if he was +making her talk she <i>was</i> talking; and what it could, +at any rate, come to for him was that she wasn't +afraid. If he wanted to do the dearest thing in the +world for her he would show her he believed she +wasn't; which undertaking of hers—not to have +misled him—was what she counted at the moment +as her presumptuous little hint to him that she was +as good as himself. It put forward the bold idea +that he could really <i>be</i> misled; and there actually +passed between them for some seconds a sign, a sign +of the eyes only, that they knew together where they +were. This made, in their brown old temple of +truth, its momentary flicker; then what followed it +was that he had her, all the same, in his pocket; and +the whole thing wound up, for that consummation, +with its kind dim smile. Such kindness was wonderful +with such dimness; but brightness—that even +of sharp steel—was of course for the other side of +the business, and it would all come in for her in +one way or another. "Do you mean," he asked, +"that you've no relations at all?—not a parent, not +a sister, not even a cousin nor an aunt?" +</p><p> +She shook her head as with the easy habit of an +interviewed heroine or a freak of nature at a show. +"Nobody whatever." But the last thing she had +come for was to be dreary about it. "I'm a survivor—a +survivor of a general wreck. You see," +she added, "how that's to be taken into account—that +everyone else <i>has</i> gone. When I was ten years +old there were, with my father and my mother, six +of us. I'm all that's left. But they died," she +went on, to be fair all round, "of different things. +Still, there it is. And, as I told you before, I'm +American. Not that I mean that makes me worse. +However, you'll probably know what it makes +me." +</p><p> +"Yes," he discreetly indulged her; "I know perfectly +what it makes you. It makes you, to begin +with, a capital case." +</p><p> +She sighed, though gratefully, as if again before +the social scene. "Ah, there you are!" +</p><p> +"Oh, no; there 'we' aren't at all. There I am only—but +as much as you like. I've no end of American +friends: there <i>they</i> are, if you please, and it's a fact +that you couldn't very well be in a better place than +in their company. It puts you with plenty of others—and +that isn't pure solitude." Then he pursued: +"I'm sure you've an excellent spirit; but don't try +to bear more things than you need." Which after +an instant he further explained. "Hard things have +come to you in youth, but you mustn't think life will +be for you all hard things. You've the right to be +happy. You must make up your mind to it. You +must accept any form in which happiness may +come." +</p><p> +"Oh, I'll accept any whatever!" she almost gaily +returned. "And it seems to me, for that matter, +that I'm accepting a new one every day. Now +<i>this!"</i> she smiled. +</p><p> +"This is very well so far as it goes. You can +depend on me," the great man said, "for unlimited +interest. But I'm only, after all, one element in +fifty. We must gather in plenty of others. Don't +mind who knows. Knows, I mean, that you and I +are friends." +</p><p> +"Ah, you do want to see some one!" she broke +out. "You want to get at some one who cares for +me." With which, however, as he simply met this +spontaneity in a manner to show that he had often +had it from young persons of her race, and that he +was familiar even with the possibilities of their +familiarity, she felt her freedom rendered vain by +his silence, and she immediately tried to think of the +most reasonable thing she could say. This would +be, precisely, on the subject of that freedom, which +she now quickly spoke of as complete. "That's of +course by itself a great boon; so please don't think +I don't know it. I can do exactly what I like—anything +in all the wide world. I haven't a creature to +ask—there's not a finger to stop me. I can shake +about till I'm black and blue. That perhaps isn't <i>all</i> +joy; but lots of people, I know, would like to try it." +He had appeared about to put a question, but then +had let her go on, which she promptly did, for she +understood him the next moment as having thus +taken it from her that her means were as great as +might be. She had simply given it to him so, and +this was all that would ever pass between them on +the odious head. Yet she couldn't help also knowing +that an important effect, for his judgment, or +at least for his amusement—which was his feeling, +since, marvellously, he did have feeling—was produced +by it. All her little pieces had now then fallen +together for him like the morsels of coloured glass +that used to make combinations, under the hand, in +the depths of one of the polygonal peepshows of +childhood. "So that if it's a question of my doing +anything under the sun that will help——!" +</p><p> +"You'll <i>do</i> anything under the sun? Good." He +took that beautifully, ever so pleasantly, for what it +was worth; but time was needed—ten minutes or +so were needed on the spot—to deal even provisionally, +with the substantive question. It was convenient, +in its degree, that there was nothing she +wouldn't do; but it seemed also highly and agreeably +vague that she should have to do anything. They +thus appeared to be taking her, together, for the moment, +and almost for sociability, as prepared to proceed +to gratuitous extremities; the upshot of which +was in turn, that after much interrogation, auscultation, +exploration, much noting of his own sequences +and neglecting of hers, had duly kept up the vagueness, +they might have struck themselves, or may at +least strike us, as coming back from an undeterred +but useless voyage to the north pole. Milly was +ready, under orders, for the north pole; which fact +was doubtless what made a blinding anticlimax of her +friend's actual abstention from orders. "No," she +heard him again distinctly repeat it, "I don't want +you for the present to do anything at all; anything, +that is, but obey a small prescription or two that +will be made clear to you, and let me within a few +days come to see you at home." +</p><p> +It was at first heavenly. "Then you'll see Mrs. +Stringham." But she didn't mind a bit now. +</p><p> +"Well, I shan't be afraid of Mrs. Stringham." +And he said it once more as she asked once more: +"Absolutely not; I 'send' you nowhere. England's +all right—anywhere that's pleasant, convenient, decent, +will be all right. You say you can do exactly +as you like. Oblige me therefore by being so good +as to do it. There's only one thing: you ought of +course, now, as soon as I've seen you again, to get +out of London." +</p><p> +Milly thought. "May I then go back to the continent?" +</p><p> +"By all means back to the continent. Do go back +to the continent." +</p><p> +"Then how will you keep seeing me? But perhaps," +she quickly added, "you won't want to keep +seeing me." +</p><p> +He had it all ready; he had really everything all +ready. "I shall follow you up; though if you mean +that I don't want you to keep seeing <i>me</i>——" +</p><p> +"Well?" she asked. +</p><p> +It was only just here that he struck her the least +bit as stumbling. "Well, see all you can. That's +what it comes to. Worry about nothing. You <i>have</i> +at least no worries. It's a great, rare chance." +</p><p> +She had got up, for she had had from him both +that he would send her something and would advise +her promptly of the date of his coming to her, by +which she was virtually dismissed. Yet, for herself, +one or two things kept her. "May I come back to +England too?" +</p><p> +"Rather! Whenever you like. But always, +when you do come, immediately let me know." +</p><p> +"Ah," said Milly, "it won't be a great going to +and fro." +</p><p> +"Then if you'll stay with us, so much the better." +</p><p> +It touched her, the way he controlled his impatience +of her; and the fact itself affected her as so +precious that she yielded to the wish to get more +from it. "So you don't think I'm out of my +mind?" +</p><p> +"Perhaps that <i>is,"</i> he smiled, "all that's the +matter." +</p><p> +She looked at him longer. "No, that's too good. +Shall I, at any rate, suffer?" +</p><p> +"Not a bit." +</p><p> +"And yet then live?" +</p><p> +"My dear young lady," said her distinguished +friend, "isn't to 'live' exactly what I'm trying to +persuade you to take the trouble to do?" +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">XIII</h2> +<br> +<p> +She had gone out with these last words so in her +ears that when once she was well away—back this +time in the great square alone—it was as if some +instant application of them had opened out there before +her. It was positively, this effect, an excitement +that carried her on; she went forward into +space under the sense of an impulse received—an +impulse simple and direct, easy above all to act upon. +She was borne up for the hour, and now she knew +why she had wanted to come by herself. No one +in the world could have sufficiently entered into her +state; no tie would have been close enough to enable +a companion to walk beside her without some disparity. +She literally felt, in this first flush, that her +only company must be the human race at large, +present all round her, but inspiringly impersonal, +and that her only field must be, then and there, the +grey immensity of London. Grey immensity had +somehow of a sudden become her element; grey immensity +was what her distinguished friend had, for +the moment, furnished her world with and what the +question of "living," as he put it to her, living by +option, by volition, inevitably took on for its immediate +face. She went straight before her, without +weakness, altogether with strength; and still as she +went she was more glad to be alone, for nobody—not +Kate Croy, not Susan Shepherd either—would +have wished to rush with her as she rushed. She +had asked him at the last whether, being on foot, +she might go home so, or elsewhere, and he had replied +as if almost amused again at her extravagance: +"You're active, luckily, by nature—it's beautiful: +therefore rejoice in it. <i>Be</i> active, without folly—for +you're not foolish: be as active as you can and +as you like." That had been in fact the final push, +as well as the touch that most made a mixture of +her consciousness—a strange mixture that tasted at +one and the same time of what she had lost and what +had been given her. It was wonderful to her, while +she took her random course, that these quantities felt +so equal: she had been treated—hadn't she?—as if +it were in her power to live; and yet one wasn't +treated so—was one?—unless it came up, quite as +much, that one might die. The beauty of the bloom +had gone from the small old sense of safety—that +was distinct: she had left it behind her there forever. +But the beauty of the idea of a great adventure, a big +dim experiment or struggle in which she might, +more responsibly than ever before, take a hand, had +been offered her instead. It was as if she had had to +pluck off her breast, to throw away, some friendly +ornament, a familiar flower, a little old jewel, that +was part of her daily dress; and to take up and +shoulder as a substitute some queer defensive +weapon, a musket, a spear, a battle-axe conducive +possibly in a higher degree to a striking appearance, +but demanding all the effort of the military posture. +She felt this instrument, for that matter, already +on her back, so that she proceeded now in very truth +as a soldier on a march—proceeded as if, for her +initiation, the first charge had been sounded. She +passed along unknown streets, over dusty littery +ways, between long rows of fronts not enhanced by +the August light; she felt good for miles and only +wanted to get lost; there were moments at corners, +where she stopped and chose her direction, in which +she quite lived up to his injunction to rejoice that she +was active. It was like a new pleasure to have so +new a reason; she would affirm, without delay, her +option, her volition; taking this personal possession +of what surrounded her was a fair affirmation to +start with; and she really didn't care if she made +it at the cost of alarms for Susie. Susie would wonder +in due course "whatever," as they said at the +hotel, had become of her; yet this would be nothing +either, probably, to wonderments still in store. +Wonderments in truth, Milly felt, even now attended +her steps: it was quite as if she saw in people's eyes +the reflection of her appearance and pace. She +found herself moving at times in regions visibly not +haunted by odd-looking girls from New York, duskily +draped, sable-plumed, all but incongruously shod +and gazing about them with extravagance; she +might, from the curiosity she clearly excited in byways, +in side-streets peopled with grimy children +and costermongers carts, which she hoped were +slums, literally have had her musket on her shoulder, +have announced herself as freshly on the warpath. +But for the fear of overdoing this character she +would here and there have begun conversation, have +asked her way; in spite of the fact that, as that +would help the requirements of adventure, her way +was exactly what she wanted not to know. The +difficulty was that she at last accidentally found it; +she had come out, she presently saw, at the Regent's +Park, round which, on two or three occasions with +Kate Croy, her public chariot had solemnly rolled. +But she went into it further now; this was the real +thing; the real thing was to be quite away from the +pompous roads, well within the centre and on the +stretches of shabby grass. Here were benches and +smutty sheep; here were idle lads at games of ball, +with their cries mild in the thick air; here were wanderers, +anxious and tired like herself; here doubtless +were hundreds of others just in the same box. +Their box, their great common anxiety, what was it, +in this grim breathing-space, but the practical question +of life? They could live if they would; that +is, like herself, they had been told so; she saw them +all about her, on seats, digesting the information, +feeling it altered, assimilated, recognising it again +as something, in a slightly different shape, familiar +enough, the blessed old truth that they would live +if they could. All she thus shared with them made +her wish to sit in their company; which she so far +did that she looked for a bench that was empty, eschewing +a still emptier chair that she saw hard by +and for which she would have paid, with superiority, +a fee. +</p><p> +The last scrap of superiority had soon enough left +her, if only because she before long knew herself for +more tired than she had proposed. This and the +charm, after a fashion, of the situation in itself made +her linger and rest; there was a sort of spell in the +sense that nobody in the world knew where she was. +It was the first time in her life that this had happened; +somebody, everybody appeared to have +known before, at every instant of it, where she was; +so that she was now suddenly able to put it to herself +that that hadn't been a life. This present kind +of thing therefore might be—which was where precisely +her distinguished friend seemed to be wishing +her to come out. He wished her also, it was true, +not to make, as she was perhaps doing now, too much +of her isolation; at the same time however as he +clearly desired to deny her no decent source of interest. +He was interested—she arrived at that—in +her appealing to as many sources as possible; and it +fairly filtered into her, as she sat and sat, that he was +essentially propping her up. Had she been doing it +herself she would have called it bolstering—the bolstering +that was simply for the weak; and she +thought and thought as she put together the proofs +that it was as one of the weak he was treating her. +It was of course as one of the weak that she had gone +to him—but, oh, with how sneaking a hope that he +might pronounce her, as to all indispensables, a veritable +young lioness! What indeed she was really +confronted with was the consciousness that he had +not, after all, pronounced her anything: she nursed +herself into the sense that he had beautifully got out +of it. Did he think, however, she wondered, that +he could keep out of it to the end?—though, as she +weighed the question, she yet felt it a little unjust. +Milly weighed, in this extraordinary hour, questions +numerous and strange; but she had, happily, before +she moved, worked round to a simplification. +Stranger than anything, for instance, was the effect +of its rolling over her that, when one considered it, +he might perhaps have "got out" by one door but +to come in with a beautiful, beneficent dishonesty by +another. It kept her more intensely motionless +there that what he might fundamentally be "up to" +was some disguised intention of standing by her as a +friend. Wasn't that what women always said they +wanted to do when they deprecated the addresses of +gentlemen they couldn't more intimately go on with? +It was what they, no doubt, sincerely fancied they +could make of men of whom they couldn't make +husbands. And she didn't even reason that it was, +by a similar law, the expedient of doctors in general +for the invalids of whom they couldn't make patients: +she was somehow so sufficiently aware that +<i>her</i> doctor was—however fatuous it might sound—exceptionally +moved. This was the damning little +fact—if she could talk of damnation: that she could +believe herself to have caught him in the act of irrelevantly +liking her. She hadn't gone to him to be +liked, she had gone to him to be judged; and he was +quite a great enough man to be in the habit, as a +rule, of observing the difference. She could like +<i>him,</i> as she distinctly did—that was another matter; +all the more that her doing so was now, so obviously +for herself, compatible with judgment. Yet it +would have been all portentously mixed had not, as +we say, a final, merciful wave, chilling rather, but +washing clear, come to her assistance. +</p><p> +It came, of a sudden, when all other thought was +spent. She had been asking herself why, if her case +was grave—and she knew what she meant by that—he +should have talked to her at all about what she +might with futility "do"; or why on the other +hand, if it were light, he should attach an importance +to the office of friendship. She had him, with her +little lonely acuteness—as acuteness went during the +dog-days in the Regent's Park—in a cleft stick: she +either mattered, and then she was ill; or she didn't +matter, and then she was well enough. Now he was +"acting," as they said at home, as if she did matter—until +he should prove the contrary. It was too +evident that a person at his high pressure must keep +his inconsistencies, which were probably his highest +amusements, only for the very greatest occasions. +Her prevision, in fine, of just where she should catch +him furnished the light of that judgment in which +we describe her as daring to indulge. And the +judgment it was that made her sensation simple. +He <i>had</i> distinguished her—that was the chill. He +hadn't known—how could he?—that she was devilishly +subtle, subtle exactly in the manner of the suspected, +the suspicious, the condemned. He in fact +confessed to it, in his way, as to an interest in her +combinations, her funny race, her funny losses, her +funny gains, her funny freedom, and, no doubt, +above all, her funny manners—funny, like those of +Americans at their best, without being vulgar, legitimating +amiability and helping to pass it off. In his +appreciation of these redundancies he dressed out for +her the compassion he so signally permitted himself +to waste; but its operation for herself was as directly +divesting, denuding, exposing. It reduced her to +her ultimate state, which was that of a poor girl +with her rent to pay for example—staring before +her in a great city. Milly had her rent to pay, her +rent for her future; everything else but how to meet +it fell away from her in pieces, in tatters. This was +the sensation the great man had doubtless not purposed. +Well, she must go home, like the poor girl, +and see. There might after all be ways; the poor +girl too would be thinking. It came back for that +matter perhaps to views already presented. She +looked about her again, on her feet, at her scattered, +melancholy comrades—some of them so melancholy +as to be down on their stomachs in the grass, turned +away, ignoring, burrowing; she saw once more, +with them, those two faces of the question between +which there was so little to choose for inspiration. +It was perhaps superficially more striking that one +could live if one would; but it was more appealing, +insinuating, irresistible, in short, that one would live +if one could. +</p><p> +She found after this, for the day or two, more +amusement than she had ventured to count on in +the fact, if it were not a mere fancy, of deceiving +Susie; and she presently felt that what made the +difference was the mere fancy—as this <i>was</i> one—of +a countermove to her great man. His taking on +himself—should he do so—to get at her companion +made her suddenly, she held, irresponsible, made any +notion of her own all right for her; though indeed +at the very moment she invited herself to enjoy this +impunity she became aware of new matter for surprise, +or at least for speculation. Her idea would +rather have been that Mrs. Stringham would have +looked at her hard—her sketch of the grounds of +her long, independent excursion showing, she could +feel, as almost cynically superficial. Yet the dear +woman so failed, in the event, to avail herself of any +right of criticism that it was sensibly tempting, for +an hour, to wonder if Kate Croy had been playing +perfectly fair. Hadn't she possibly, from motives +of the highest benevolence, promptings of the finest +anxiety, just given poor Susie what she would have +called the straight tip? It must immediately be +mentioned, however, that, quite apart from a remembrance +of the distinctness of Kate's promise, Milly, +the next thing, found her explanation in a truth that +had the merit of being general. If Susie, at this +crisis, suspiciously spared her, it was really that +Susie was always suspiciously sparing her—yet occasionally, +too, with portentous and exceptional +mercies. The girl was conscious of how she dropped +at times into inscrutable, impenetrable deferences—attitudes +that, though without at all intending it, +made a difference for familiarity, for the ease of intimacy. +It was as if she recalled herself to manners, +to the law of court-etiquette—which last note above +all helped our young woman to a just appreciation. +It was definite for her, even if not quite solid, that +to treat her as a princess was a positive need of her +companion's mind; wherefore she couldn't help it if +this lady had her transcendent view of the way the +class in question were treated. Susan had read history, +had read Gibbon and Froude and Saint-Simon; +she had high-lights as to the special allowances made +for the class, and, since she saw them, when young, +as effete and overtutored, inevitably ironic and infinitely +refined, one must take it for amusing if she +inclined to an indulgence verily Byzantine. If one +<i>could</i> only be Byzantine!—wasn't <i>that</i> what she insidiously +led one on to sigh? Milly tried to oblige +her—for it really placed Susan herself so handsomely +to be Byzantine now. The great ladies of that +race—it would be somewhere in Gibbon—weren't, +apparently, questioned about their mysteries. But +oh, poor Milly and hers! Susan at all events proved +scarce more inquisitive than if she had been a mosaic +at Ravenna. Susan was a porcelain monument to +the odd moral that consideration might, like cynicism, +have abysses. Besides, the Puritan finally +disencumbered——! What starved generations +wasn't Mrs. Stringham, in fancy, going to make up +for? +</p><p> +Kate Croy came straight to the hotel—came that +evening shortly before dinner; specifically and publicly +moreover, in a hansom that, driven apparently +very fast, pulled up beneath their windows almost +with the clatter of an accident, a "smash." Milly, +alone, as happened, in the great garnished void of +their sitting-room, where, a little, really, like a caged +Byzantine, she had been pacing through the queer, +long-drawn, almost sinister delay of night, an effect +she yet liked—Milly, at the sound, one of the French +windows standing open, passed out to the balcony +that overhung, with pretensions, the general entrance, +and so was in time for the look that Kate, +alighting, paying her cabman, happened to send up +to the front. The visitor moreover had a shilling +back to wait for, during which Milly, from the balcony, +looked down at her, and a mute exchange, but +with smiles and nods, took place between them on +what had occurred in the morning. It was what +Kate had called for, and the tone was thus, almost +by accident, determined for Milly before her friend +came up. What was also, however, determined for +her was, again, yet irrepressibly again, that the +image presented to her, the splendid young woman +who looked so particularly handsome in impatience, +with the fine freedom of her signal, was the peculiar +property of somebody else's vision, that this fine +freedom in short was the fine freedom she showed +Mr. Densher. Just so was how she looked to +him, and just so was how Milly was held by +her—held as by the strange sense of seeing through +that distant person's eyes. It lasted, as usual, the +strange sense, but fifty seconds; yet in so lasting +it produced an effect. It produced in fact more +than one, and we take them in their order. The +first was that it struck our young woman as absurd +to say that a girl's looking so to a man could +possibly be without connections; and the second was +that by the time Kate had got into the room Milly +was in mental possession of the main connection it +must have for herself. +</p><p> +She produced this commodity on the spot—produced +it, that is, in straight response to Kate's frank +"Well, what?" The inquiry bore of course, with +Kate's eagerness, on the issue of the morning's +scene, the great man's latest wisdom, and it doubtless +affected Milly a little as the cheerful demand for +news is apt to affect troubled spirits when news is +not, in one of the neater forms, prepared for delivery. +She couldn't have said what it was exactly that, on +the instant, determined her; the nearest description +of it would perhaps have been as the more vivid impression +of all her friend took for granted. The +contrast between this free quantity and the maze of +possibilities through which, for hours, she had herself +been picking her way, put on, in short, for the +moment, a grossness that even friendly forms scarce +lightened: it helped forward in fact the revelation +to herself that she absolutely had nothing to tell. +Besides which, certainly, there was something else—an +influence, at the particular juncture, still more +obscure. Kate had lost, on the way upstairs, the +look—<i>the</i> look—that made her young hostess so subtly +think and one of the signs of which was that she +never kept it for many moments at once; yet she +stood there, none the less, so in her bloom and in her +strength, so completely again the "handsome girl" +beyond all others, the "handsome girl" for whom +Milly had at first gratefully taken her, that to meet +her now with the note of the plaintive would amount +somehow to a surrender, to a confession. <i>She</i> +would never in her life be ill; the greatest doctor +would keep her, at the worst, the fewest minutes; +and it was as if she had asked just <i>with</i> all this practical +impeccability for all that was most mortal in +her friend. These things, for Milly, inwardly +danced their dance; but the vibration produced and +the dust kicked up had lasted less than our account +of them. Almost before she knew it she was answering, +and answering, beautifully, with no consciousness +of fraud, only as with a sudden flare of the +famous "will-power" she had heard about, read +about, and which was what her medical adviser had +mainly thrown her back on. "Oh, it's all right. +He's lovely." +</p><p> +Kate was splendid, and it would have been clear +for Milly now, had the further presumption been +needed, that she had said no word to Mrs. Stringham. +"You mean you've been absurd?" +</p><p> +"Absurd." It was a simple word to say, but the +consequence of it, for our young woman, was that +she felt it, as soon as spoken, to have done something +for her safety. +</p><p> +And Kate really hung on her lips. "There's +nothing at all the matter?" +</p><p> +"Nothing to worry about. I shall take a little +watching, but I shan't have to do anything dreadful, +or even, in the least, inconvenient. I can do in fact +as I like." It was wonderful for Milly how just to +put it so made all its pieces fall at present quite properly +into places. +</p><p> +Yet even before the full effect came Kate had +seized, kissed, blessed her. "My love, you're too +sweet! It's too dear! But it's as I was sure." +Then she grasped the full beauty. "You can do as +you like?" +</p><p> +"Quite. Isn't it charming?" +</p><p> +"Ah, but catch you," Kate triumphed with gaiety, +<i>"not</i> doing——! And what <i>shall</i> you do?" +</p><p> +"For the moment simply enjoy it. Enjoy"—Milly +was completely luminous—"having got out of +my scrape." +</p><p> +"Learning, you mean, so easily, that you <i>are</i> +well." +</p><p> +It was as if Kate had but too conveniently put the +words into her mouth. "Learning, I mean, so easily, +that I <i>am</i> well." +</p><p> +"Only, no one's of course well enough to stay in +London now. He can't," Kate went on, "want +this of you." +</p><p> +"Mercy, no—I'm to knock about. I'm to go to +places." +</p><p> +"But not beastly 'climates'—Engadines, Rivieras, +boredoms?" +</p><p> +"No; just, as I say, where I prefer. I'm to go in +for pleasure." +</p><p> +"Oh, the duck!"—Kate, with her own shades of +familiarity, abounded. "But what kind of pleasure?" +</p><p> +"The highest," Milly smiled. +</p><p> +Her friend met it as nobly. "Which is the +highest?" +</p><p> +"Well, it's just our chance to find out. You must +help me." +</p><p> +"What have I wanted to do but help you," Kate +asked, "from the moment I first laid eyes on you?" +Yet with this too Kate had her wonder. "I like +your talking, though, about that. What help, with +your luck all round, do you want?" +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">XIV</h2> +<br> +<p> +Milly indeed at last couldn't say; so that she had +really for the time brought it along to the point so +oddly marked for her by her visitor's arrival, the +truth that she was enviably strong. She carried this +out, from that evening, for each hour still left her, +and the more easily perhaps that the hours were now +narrowly numbered. All she actually waited for +was Sir Luke Strett's promised visit; as to her proceeding +on which, however, her mind was quite made +up. Since he wanted to get at Susie he should have +the freest access, and then perhaps he would see how +he liked it. What was between <i>them</i> they might +settle as between them, and any pressure it should lift +from her own spirit they were at liberty to convert +to their use. If the dear man wished to fire Susan +Shepherd with a still higher ideal, he would only +after all, at the worst, have Susan on his hands. If +devotion, in a word, was what it would come up for +the interested pair to organise, she was herself ready +to consume it as the dressed and served dish. He +had talked to her of her "appetite" her account of +which, she felt, must have been vague. But for devotion, +she could now see, this appetite would be of +the best. Gross, greedy, ravenous—these were +doubtless the proper names for her: she was at all +events resigned in advance to the machinations of +sympathy. The day that followed her lonely excursion +was to be the last but two or three of their stay +in London; and the evening of that day practically +ranked for them as, in the matter of outside relations, +the last of all. People were by this time quite scattered, +and many of those who had so liberally manifested +in calls, in cards, in evident sincerity about +visits, later on, over the land, had positively passed +in music out of sight; whether as members, these +latter, more especially, of Mrs. Lowder's immediate +circle or as members of Lord Mark's—our friends +being by this time able to make the distinction. The +general pitch had thus, decidedly, dropped, and the +occasions still to be dealt with were special and few. +One of these, for Milly, announced itself as the doctor's +call already mentioned, as to which she had now +had a note from him: the single other, of importance, +was their appointed leave-taking—for the +shortest separation—in respect to Mrs. Lowder and +Kate. The aunt and the niece were to dine with +them alone, intimately and easily—as easily as +should be consistent with the question of their afterwards +going on together to some absurdly belated +party, at which they had had it from Aunt Maud that +they would do well to show. Sir Luke was to make +his appearance on the morrow of this, and in respect +to that complication Milly had already her plan. +</p><p> +The night was, at all events, hot and stale, and it +was late enough by the time the four ladies had been +gathered in, for their small session, at the hotel, +where the windows were still open to the high balconies +and the flames of the candles, behind the pink +shades—disposed as for the vigil of watchers—were +motionless in the air in which the season lay dead. +What was presently settled among them was that +Milly, who betrayed on this occasion a preference +more marked than usual, should not hold herself +obliged to climb that evening the social stair, however +it might stretch to meet her, and that, Mrs. +Lowder and Mrs. Stringham facing the ordeal together, +Kate Croy should remain with her and await +their return. It was a pleasure to Milly, ever, to +send Susan Shepherd forth; she saw her go with +complacency, liked, as it were, to put people off with +her, and noted with satisfaction, when she so moved +to the carriage, the further denudation—a markedly +ebbing tide—of her little benevolent back. If it +wasn't quite Aunt Maud's ideal, moreover, to take +out the new American girl's funny friend instead of +the new American girl herself, nothing could better +indicate the range of that lady's merit than the spirit +in which—as at the present hour for instance—she +made the best of the minor advantage. And she did +this with a broad, cheerful absence of illusion; she +did it—confessing even as much to poor Susie—because, +frankly, she <i>was</i> good-natured. When Mrs. +Stringham observed that her own light was too abjectly +borrowed and that it was as a link alone, +fortunately not missing, that she was valued, Aunt +Maud concurred to the extent of the remark: "Well, +my dear, you're better than nothing." To-night, +furthermore, it came up for Milly that Aunt Maud +had something particular in mind. Mrs. Stringham, +before adjourning with her, had gone off for +some shawl or other accessory, and Kate, as if a little +impatient for their withdrawal, had wandered out +to the balcony, where she hovered, for the time, unseen, +though with scarce more to look at than the +dim London stars and the cruder glow, up the street, +on a corner, of a small public-house, in front of +which a fagged cab-horse was thrown into relief. +Mrs. Lowder made use of the moment: Milly felt +as soon as she had spoken that what she was doing +was somehow for use. +</p><p> +"Dear Susan tells me that you saw, in America, +Mr. Densher—whom I've never till now, as you may +have noticed, asked you about. But do you mind at +last, in connection with him, doing something for +me?" She had lowered her fine voice to a depth, +though speaking with all her rich glibness; and +Milly, after a small sharpness of surprise, was already +guessing the sense of her appeal. "Will you +name him, in any way you like, to <i>her"</i>—and Aunt +Maud gave a nod at the window; "so that you may +perhaps find out whether he's back?" +</p><p> +Ever so many things, for Milly, fell into line at +this; it was a wonder, she afterwards thought, that +she could be conscious of so many at once. She +smiled hard, however, for them all. "But I don't +know that it's important to me to 'find out.'" The +array of things was further swollen, however, even +as she said this, by its striking her as too much to +say. She therefore tried as quickly to say less. +"Except you mean, of course, that it's important to +<i>you."</i> She fancied Aunt Maud was looking at her +almost as hard as she was herself smiling, and that +gave her another impulse. "You know I never +<i>have</i> yet named him to her; so that if I should break +out now——" +</p><p> +"Well?"—Mrs. Lowder waited. +</p><p> +"Why, she may wonder what I've been making +a mystery of. She hasn't mentioned him, you +know," Milly went on, "herself." +</p><p> +"No"—her friend a little heavily weighed it—"she +wouldn't. So it's she, you see then, who has +made the mystery." +</p><p> +Yes, Milly but wanted to see; only there was so +much. "There has been of course no particular +reason." Yet that indeed was neither here nor there. +"Do you think," she asked, "he is back?" +</p><p> +"It will be about his time, I gather, and rather a +comfort to me definitely to know." +</p><p> +"Then can't you ask her yourself?" +</p><p> +"Ah, we never speak of him!" +</p><p> +It helped Milly for the moment to the convenience +of a puzzled pause. "Do you mean he's an acquaintance +of whom you disapprove for her?" +</p><p> +Aunt Maud, as well, just hung fire. "I disapprove +of <i>her</i> for the poor young man. She doesn't +care for him." +</p><p> +"And <i>he</i> cares so much——?" +</p><p> +"Too much, too much. And my fear is," said +Mrs. Lowder, "that he privately besets her. She +keeps it to herself, but I don't want her worried. +Neither, in truth," she both generously and confidentially +concluded, "do I want <i>him."</i> +</p><p> +Milly showed all her own effort to meet the case. +"But what can <i>I</i> do?" +</p><p> +"You can find out where they are. If I myself +try," Mrs. Lowder explained, "I shall appear to +treat them as if I supposed them deceiving me." +</p><p> +"And you don't. You don't," Milly mused for +her, "suppose them deceiving you." +</p><p> +"Well," said Aunt Maud, whose fine onyx eyes +failed to blink, even though Milly's questions might +have been taken as drawing her rather further than +she had originally meant to go—"well, Kate is thoroughly +aware of my views for her, and that I take +her being with me, at present, in the way she is with +me, if you know what I mean, as a loyal assent to +them. Therefore as my views don't happen to provide +a place, at all, for Mr. Densher, much, in a manner, +as I like him"—therefore, therefore in short +she had been prompted to this step, though she completed +her sense, but sketchily, with the rattle of her +large fan. +</p><p> +It assisted them perhaps, however, for the moment, +that Milly was able to pick out of her sense +what might serve as the clearest part of it. "You +do like him then?" +</p><p> +"Oh dear, yes. Don't you?" +</p><p> +Milly hesitated, for the question was somehow as +the sudden point of something sharp on a nerve that +winced. She just caught her breath, but she had +ground for joy afterwards, she felt, in not really +having failed to choose with quickness sufficient, out +of fifteen possible answers, the one that would best +serve her. She was then almost proud, as well, that +she had cheerfully smiled. "I did—three times—in +New York." So came and went for her, in these +simple words, the speech that was to figure for her, +later on, that night, as the one she had ever uttered +that cost her most. She was to lie awake, at all +events, half the night, for the gladness of not having +taken any line so really inferior as the denial of a +happy impression. +</p><p> +For Mrs. Lowder also, moreover, her simple +words were the right ones; they were at any rate, +that lady's laugh showed, in the natural note of the +racy. "You dear American thing! But people +may be very good, and yet not good for what one +wants." +</p><p> +"Yes," the girl assented, "even I suppose when +what one wants is something very good." +</p><p> +"Oh, my child, it would take too long just now +to tell you all <i>I</i> want! I want everything at once +and together—and ever so much for you too, you +know. But you've seen us," Aunt Maud continued; +"you'll have made out." +</p><p> +"Ah," said Milly, "I <i>don't</i> make out"; for again—it +came that way in rushes—she felt an obscurity +in things. "Why, if our friend here doesn't like +him——" +</p><p> +"Should I conceive her interested in keeping +things from me?" Mrs. Lowder did justice to the +question. "My dear, how can you ask? Put yourself +in her place. She meets me, but on <i>her</i> terms. +Proud young women are proud young women. And +proud old ones are—well, what <i>I</i> am. Fond of you +as we both are, you can help us." +</p><p> +Milly tried to be inspired. "Does it come back +then to my asking her straight?" +</p><p> +At this, however, finally, Aunt Maud threw her +up. "Oh, if you've so many reasons not——!" +</p><p> +"I've not so many," Milly smiled "but I've one. +If I break out so suddenly as knowing him, what will +she make of my not having spoken before?" +</p><p> +Mrs. Lowder looked blank at it. "Why should +you care what she makes? You may have only been +decently discreet." +</p><p> +"Ah, I <i>have</i> been," the girl made haste to say. +</p><p> +"Besides," her friend went on, "I suggested to +you, through Susan, your line." +</p><p> +"Yes, that reason's a reason for <i>me."</i> +</p><p> +"And for <i>me,"</i> Mrs. Lowder insisted. "She's +not therefore so stupid as not to do justice to grounds +so marked. You can tell her perfectly that I had +asked you to say nothing." +</p><p> +"And may I tell her that you've asked me now +to speak?" +</p><p> +Mrs. Lowder might well have thought, yet, oddly, +this pulled her up. "You can't do it without——?" +</p><p> +Milly was almost ashamed to be raising so many +difficulties. "I'll do what I can if you'll kindly tell +me one thing more." She faltered a little—it was +so prying; but she brought it out. "Will he have +been writing to her?" +</p><p> +"It's exactly, my dear, what I should like to +know." Mrs. Lowder was at last impatient. +"Push in for yourself, and I dare say she'll tell +you." +</p><p> +Even now, all the same, Milly had not quite fallen +back. "It will be pushing in," she continued to +smile, "for <i>you"</i> She allowed her companion, +however, no time to take this up. "The point will +be that if he <i>has</i> been writing she may have answered." +</p><p> +"But what point, you subtle thing, is that?" +</p><p> +"It isn't subtle, it seems to me, but quite simple," +Milly said, "that if she has answered she has very +possibly spoken of me." +</p><p> +"Very certainly indeed. But what difference +will it make?" +</p><p> +The girl had a moment, at this, of thinking it natural +that her interlocutress herself should so fail of +subtlety. "It will make the difference that he will +have written to her in answer that he knows me. +And that, in turn," our young woman explained, +"will give an oddity to my own silence." +</p><p> +"How so, if she's perfectly aware of having given +you no opening? The only oddity," Aunt Maud +lucidly professed, "is for yourself. It's in <i>her</i> not +having spoken." +</p><p> +"Ah, there we are!" said Milly. +</p><p> +And she had uttered it, evidently, in a tone +that struck her friend. "Then it <i>has</i> troubled +you?" +</p><p> +But ah, the inquiry had only to be made to bring +the rare colour with fine inconsequence, to her face. +"Not, really, the least little bit!" And, quickly +feeling the need to abound in this sense, she was on +the point, to cut short, of declaring that she cared, +after all, no scrap how much she obliged. Only she +felt at this instant too the intervention of still other +things. Mrs. Lowder was, in the first place, already +beforehand, already affected as by the sudden vision +of her having herself pushed too far. Milly could +never judge from her face of her uppermost motive—it +was so little, in its hard, smooth sheen, that kind +of human countenance. She looked hard when she +spoke fair; the only thing was that when she spoke +hard she likewise didn't look soft. Something, none +the less, had arisen in her now—a full appreciable +tide, entering by the rupture of some bar. She announced +that if what she had asked was to prove in +the least a bore her young friend was not to dream +of it; making her young friend at the same time, by +the change in her tone, dream on the spot more profusely. +She spoke with a belated light, Milly could +apprehend—she could always apprehend—from +pity; and the result of that perception, for the girl, +was singular: it proved to her as quickly that Kate, +keeping her secret, had been straight with her. +From Kate distinctly then, as to why she was to be +pitied, Aunt Maud knew nothing, and was thereby +simply putting in evidence the fine side of her own +character. This fine side was that she could almost +at any hour, by a kindled preference or a diverted +energy, glow for another interest than her own. +She exclaimed as well, at this moment, that Milly +must have been thinking, round the case, much more +than she had supposed; and this remark could, at +once, affect the girl as sharply as any other form of +the charge of weakness. It was what everyone, if +she didn't look out, would soon be saying—"There's +something the matter with you!" What one was +therefore one's self concerned immediately to establish +was that there was nothing at all. "I shall like +to help you; I shall like, so far as that goes, to help +Kate herself," she made such haste as she could to +declare; her eyes wandering meanwhile across the +width of the room to that dusk of the balcony in +which their companion perhaps a little unaccountably +lingered. She suggested hereby her impatience +to begin; she almost overtly wondered at the length +of the opportunity this friend was giving them—referring +it, however, so far as words went, to the +other friend, breaking off with an amused: "How +tremendously Susie must be beautifying!" +</p><p> +It only marked Aunt Maud, none the less, as too +preoccupied for her allusion. The onyx eyes were +fixed upon her with a polished pressure that must +signify some enriched benevolence. "Let it go, my +dear. We shall, after all, soon enough see." +</p><p> +"If he <i>has</i> come back we shall certainly see," +Milly after a moment replied; "for he'll probably +feel that he can't quite civilly not come to see +me. Then <i>there,"</i> she remarked, "we shall be. It +wouldn't then, you see, come through Kate at all—it +would come through him. Except," she wound +up with a smile, "that he won't find me." +</p><p> +She had the most extraordinary sense of interesting +her interlocutress, in spite of herself, more than +she wanted; it was as if her doom so floated her on +that she couldn't stop—by very much the same trick +it had played her with her doctor. "Shall you run +away from him?" +</p><p> +She neglected the question, wanting only now to +get off. "Then," she went on, "you'll deal with +Kate directly." +</p><p> +"Shall you run away from <i>her?"</i> Mrs. Lowder +profoundly inquired, while they became aware of +Susie's return through the room, opening out behind +them, in which they had dined. +</p><p> +This affected Milly as giving her but an instant; +and suddenly, with it, everything she felt in the connection +rose to her lips in a question that, even as she +put it, she knew she was failing to keep colourless. +"Is it your own belief that he <i>is</i> with her?" +</p><p> +Aunt Maud took it in—took in, that is, everything +of the tone that she just wanted her not to; and the +result for some seconds, was but to make their eyes +meet in silence. Mrs. Stringham had rejoined them +and was asking if Kate had gone—an inquiry at once +answered by this young lady's reappearance. They +saw her again in the open window, where, looking +at them, she had paused—producing thus, on Aunt +Maud's part, almost too impressive a "Hush!" +Mrs. Lowder indeed, without loss of time, smothered +any danger in a sweeping retreat with Susie; +but Milly's words to her, just uttered, about dealing +with her niece directly, struck our young woman as +already recoiling on herself. Directness, however +evaded, would be, fully, for <i>her;</i> nothing in fact +would ever have been for her so direct as the evasion. +Kate had remained in the window, very handsome +and upright, the outer dark framing in a highly +favourable way her summery simplicities and lightnesses +of dress. Milly had, given the relation of +space, no real fear she had heard their talk; only she +hovered there as with conscious eyes and some added +advantage. Then indeed, with small delay, her +friend sufficiently saw. The conscious eyes, the +added advantage were but those she had now always +at command—those proper to the person Milly knew +as known to Merton Densher. It was for several +seconds again as if the <i>total</i> of her identity had been +that of the person known to him—a determination +having for result another sharpness of its own. +Kate had positively but to be there just as she was to +tell her he had come back. It seemed to pass between +them, in fine, without a word, that he was in +London, that he was perhaps only round the corner; +and surely therefore no dealing of Milly's with her +would yet have been so direct. +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">XV</h2> +<br> +<p> +It was doubtless because this queer form of directness +had in itself, for the hour, seemed so sufficient +that Milly was afterwards aware of having really, +all the while—during the strange, indescribable session +before the return of their companions—done +nothing to intensify it. If she was most aware only +afterwards, under the long, discurtained ordeal of +the morrow's dawn, that was because she had really, +till their evening's end came, ceased, after a little, +to miss anything from their ostensible comfort. +What was behind showed but in gleams and +glimpses; what was in front never at all confessed +to not holding the stage. Three minutes had not +passed before Milly quite knew she should have done +nothing Aunt Maud had just asked her. She knew +it moreover by much the same light that had acted +for her with that lady and with Sir Luke Strett. It +pressed upon her then and there that she was still in +a current determined, through her indifference, timidity, +bravery, generosity—she scarce could say +which—by others; that not she but the current +acted, and that somebody else, always, was the +keeper of the lock or the dam. Kate for example +had but to open the flood-gate: the current moved +in its mass—the current, as it had been, of her doing +as Kate wanted. What, somehow, in the most +extraordinary way in the world, <i>had</i> Kate wanted +but to be, of a sudden, more interesting than she had +ever been? Milly, for their evening then, quite held +her breath with the appreciation of it. If she hadn't +been sure her companion would have had nothing, +from her moments with Mrs. Lowder, to go by, she +would almost have seen the admirable creature "cutting in" +to anticipate a danger. This fantasy indeed, +while they sat together, dropped after a little; +even if only because other fantasies multiplied and +clustered, making fairly, for our young woman, the +buoyant medium in which her friend talked and +moved. They sat together, I say, but Kate moved +as much as she talked; she figured there, restless and +charming, just perhaps a shade perfunctory, repeatedly +quitting her place, taking slowly, to and fro, in +the trailing folds of her light dress, the length of the +room, and almost avowedly performing for the +pleasure of her hostess. +</p><p> +Mrs. Lowder had said to Milly at Matcham that +she and her niece, as allies, could practically conquer +the world; but though it was a speech about which +there had even then been a vague, grand glamour, +the girl read into it at present more of an approach +to a meaning. Kate, for that matter, by herself, +could conquer anything, and <i>she,</i> Milly Theale, was +probably concerned with the "world" only as the +small scrap of it that most impinged on her and that +was therefore first to be dealt with. On this basis +of being dealt with she would doubtless herself do +her share of the conquering: she would have something +to supply, Kate something to take—each of +them thus, to that tune, something for squaring with +Aunt Maud's ideal. This in short was what it came +to now—that the occasion, in the quiet late lamplight, +had the quality of a rough rehearsal of the possible +big drama. Milly knew herself dealt with—handsomely, +completely: she surrendered to the +knowledge, for so it was, she felt, that she supplied +her helpful force. And what Kate had to take Kate +took as freely and, to all appearance, as gratefully; +accepting afresh, with each of her long, slow walks, +the relation between them so established and consecrating +her companion's surrender simply by the interest +she gave it. The interest to Milly herself we +naturally mean; the interest to Kate Milly felt as +probably inferior. It easily and largely came for +their present talk, for the quick flight of the hour +before the breach of the spell—it all came, when considered, +from the circumstance, not in the least abnormal, +that the handsome girl was in extraordinary +"form." Milly remembered her having said that +she was at her best late at night; remembered it by +its having, with its fine assurance, made her wonder +when <i>she</i> was at her best and how happy people must +be who had such a fixed time. She had no time at +all; she was never at her best—unless indeed it were +exactly, as now, in listening, watching, admiring, +collapsing. If Kate moreover, quite mercilessly, +had never been so good, the beauty and the marvel +of it was that she had never really been so frank; +being a person of such a calibre, as Milly would have +said, that, even while "dealing" with you and thereby, +as it were, picking her steps, she could let herself +go, could, in irony, in confidence, in extravagance, +tell you things she had never told before. That was +the impression—that she was telling things, and +quite conceivably for her own relief as well; almost +as if the errors of vision, the mistakes of proportion, +the residuary innocence of spirit still to be remedied +on the part of her auditor had their moments of proving +too much for her nerves. She went at them just +now, these sources of irritation, with an amused +energy that it would have been open to Milly to regard +as cynical and that was nevertheless called for—as +to this the other was distinct—by the way that +in certain connections the American mind broke +down. It seemed at least—the American mind as +sitting there thrilled and dazzled in Milly—not to +understand English society without a separate confrontation +with <i>all</i> the cases. It couldn't proceed +by—there was some technical term she lacked until +Milly suggested both analogy and induction, and +then, differently, instinct, none of which were right: +it had to be led up and introduced to each aspect of +the monster, enabled to walk all round it, whether for +the consequent exaggerated ecstasy or for the still +more as appeared to this critic disproportionate +shock. It might, the monster, Kate conceded, loom +large for those born amid forms less developed and +therefore no doubt less amusing; it might on some +sides be a strange and dreadful monster, calculated +to devour the unwary, to abase the proud, to scandalize +the good; but if one had to live with it one must, +not to be for ever sitting up, learn how: which was +virtually in short to-night what the handsome girl +showed herself as teaching. +</p><p> +She gave away publicly, in this process, Lancaster +Gate and everything it contained; she gave away, +hand over hand, Milly's thrill continued to note, +Aunt Maud and Aunt Maud's glories and Aunt +Maud's complacencies; she gave herself away most +of all, and it was naturally what most contributed to +her candour. She didn't speak to her friend once +more, in Aunt Maud's strain, of how they could scale +the skies; she spoke, by her bright, perverse preference +on this occasion, of the need, in the first place, +of being neither stupid nor vulgar. It might have +been a lesson, for our young American, in the art of +seeing things as they were—a lesson so various and +so sustained that the pupil had, as we have shown, +but receptively to gape. The odd thing furthermore +was that it could serve its purpose while explicitly +disavowing every personal bias. It wasn't that she +disliked Aunt Maud, who was everything she had on +other occasions declared; but the dear woman, ineffaceably +stamped by inscrutable nature and a dreadful +art, wasn't—how <i>could</i> she be?—what she +wasn't. She wasn't any one. She wasn't anything. +She wasn't anywhere. Milly mustn't think it—one +couldn't, as a good friend, let her. Those hours at +Matcham were <i>inespérées,</i> were pure manna from +heaven; or if not wholly that perhaps, with humbugging +old Lord Mark as a backer, were vain as a +ground for hopes and calculations. Lord Mark was +very well, but he wasn't <i>the</i> cleverest creature in +England, and even if he had been he still wouldn't +have been the most obliging. He weighed it out in +ounces, and indeed each of the pair was really waiting +for what the other would put down. +</p><p> +"She has put down <i>you."</i> said Milly, attached to +the subject still; "and I think what you mean +is that, on the counter, she still keeps hold of +you." +</p><p> +"Lest"—Kate took it up—"he should suddenly +grab me and run? Oh, as he isn't ready to run, he's +much less ready, naturally, to grab. I <i>am</i>—you're +so far right as that—on the counter, when I'm not +in the shop-window; in and out of which I'm thus +conveniently, commercially whisked: the essence, all +of it, of my position, and the price, as properly, of +my aunt's protection." Lord Mark was substantially +what she had begun with as soon as they were +alone; the impression was even yet with Milly of +her having sounded his name, having imposed it, as +a topic, in direct opposition to the other name that +Mrs. Lowder had left in the air and that all her own +look, as we have seen, kept there at first for her companion. +The immediate strange effect had been that +of her consciously needing, as it were, an alibi—which, +successfully, she so found. She had worked +it to the end, ridden it to and fro across the course +marked for Milly by Aunt Maud, and now she had +quite, so to speak, broken it in. "The bore is that +if she wants him so much—wants him, heaven forgive +her! for <i>me</i>—he has put us all out, since your +arrival, by wanting somebody else. I don't mean +somebody else than you." +</p><p> +Milly threw off the charm sufficiently to shake +her head. "Then I haven't made out who it is. +If I'm any part of his alternative he had better stop +where he is." +</p><p> +"Truly, truly?—always, always?" +</p><p> +Milly tried to insist with an equal gaiety. +"Would you like me to swear?" +</p><p> +Kate appeared for a moment—though that was +doubtless but gaiety too—to think. "Haven't we +been swearing enough?" +</p><p> +"You have perhaps, but I haven't, and I ought to +give you the equivalent. At any rate there it is. +Truly, truly as you say—'always, always.' So +I'm not in the way." +</p><p> +"Thanks," said Kate—"but that doesn't help +me." +</p><p> +"Oh, it's as simplifying for <i>him</i> that I speak of +it." +</p><p> +"The difficulty really is that he's a person with +so many ideas that it's particularly hard to simplify +for him. That's exactly of course what Aunt Maud +has been trying. He won't," Kate firmly continued, +"make up his mind about me." +</p><p> +"Well," Milly smiled, "give him time." +</p><p> +Her friend met it in perfection. "One is <i>doing</i> +that—one <i>is.</i> But one remains, all the same, but +one of his ideas." +</p><p> +"There's no harm in that," Milly returned, "if +you come out in the end as the best of them. What's +a man," she pursued, "especially an ambitious one, +without a variety of ideas?" +</p><p> +"No doubt. The more the merrier." And Kate +looked at her grandly. "One can but hope to come +out, and do nothing to prevent it." +</p><p> +All of which made for the impression, fantastic +or not, of the <i>alibi.</i> The splendour, the grandeur +were, for Milly, the bold ironic spirit behind it, so +interesting too in itself. What, moreover, was not +less interesting was the fact, as our young woman +noted it, that Kate confined her point to the difficulties, +so far as <i>she</i> was concerned, raised only by Lord +Mark. She referred now to none that her own taste +might present; which circumstance again played its +little part. She was doing what she liked in respect +to another person, but she was in no way committed +to the other person, and her furthermore talking of +Lord Mark as not young and not true were only the +signs of her clear self-consciousness, were all in the +line of her slightly hard, but scarce the less graceful +extravagance. She didn't wish to show too much +her consent to be arranged for, but that was a different +thing from not wishing sufficiently to give it. +There was something moreover, on it all, that Milly +still found occasion to say, "If your aunt has been, +as you tell me, put out by me, I feel that she has +remained remarkably kind." +</p><p> +"Oh, but she has—whatever might have happened +in that respect—plenty of use for you! You +put her in, my dear, more than you put her out. You +don't half see it, but she has clutched your petticoat. +You can do anything—you can do, I mean, lots that +<i>we</i> can't. You're an outsider, independent and +standing by yourself; you're not hideously relative +to tiers and tiers of others." And Kate, facing in +that direction, went further and further; wound up, +while Milly gaped, with extraordinary words. +"We're of no use to you—it's decent to tell you. +You'd be of use to us, but that's a different matter. +My honest advice to you would be—" she went +indeed all lengths—"to drop us while you can. It +would be funny if you didn't soon see how awfully +better you can do. We've not really done for you +the least thing worth speaking of—nothing you +mightn't easily have had in some other way. Therefore +you're under no obligation. You won't want +us next year; we shall only continue to want <i>you.</i> +But that's no reason for you, and you mustn't pay +too dreadfully for poor Mrs. Stringham's having let +you in. She has the best conscience in the world; +she's enchanted with what she has done; but you +shouldn't take your people from <i>her.</i> It has been +quite awful to see you do it." +</p><p> +Milly tried to be amused, so as not—it was too +absurd—to be fairly frightened. Strange enough +indeed—if not natural enough—that, late at night +thus, in a mere mercenary house, with Susie away, +a want of confidence should possess her. She recalled, +with all the rest of it, the next day, piecing +things together in the dawn, that she had felt herself +alone with a creature who paced like a panther. +That was a violent image, but it made her a little less +ashamed of having been scared. For all her scare, +none the less, she had now the sense to find words. +"And yet without Susie I shouldn't have had you." +</p><p> +It had been at this point, however, that Kate +flickered highest. "Oh, you may very well loathe +me yet!" +</p><p> +Really at last, thus, it had been too much; as, with +her own least feeble flare, after a wondering watch, +Milly had shown. She hadn't cared; she had too +much wanted to know; and, though a small solemnity +of reproach, a sombre strain, had broken into +her tone, it was to figure as her nearest approach to +serving Mrs. Lowder. "Why do you say such +things to me?" +</p><p> +This unexpectedly had acted, by a sudden turn of +Kate's attitude, as a happy speech. She had risen +as she spoke, and Kate had stopped before her, shining +at her instantly with a softer brightness. Poor +Milly hereby enjoyed one of her views of how people, +wincing oddly, were often touched by her. +"Because you're a dove." With which she felt herself +ever so delicately, so considerately, embraced; +not with familiarity or as a liberty taken, but almost +ceremonially and in the manner of an accolade; partly +as if, though a dove who could perch on a finger, one +were also a princess with whom forms were to be +observed. It even came to her, through the touch +of her companion's lips, that this form, this cool pressure, +fairly sealed the sense of what Kate had just +said. It was moreover, for the girl, like an inspiration: +she found herself accepting as the right one, +while she caught her breath with relief, the name so +given her. She met it on the instant as she would +have met the revealed truth; it lighted up the strange +dusk in which she lately had walked. <i>That</i> was +what was the matter with her. She was a dove. +Oh, <i>wasn't</i> she?—it echoed within her as she became +aware of the sound, outside, of the return of their +friends. There was, the next thing, little enough +doubt about it after Aunt Maud had been two minutes +in the room. She had come up, Mrs. Lowder, +with Susan—which she needn't have done, at that +hour, instead of letting Kate come down to her; so +that Milly could be quite sure it was to catch hold, +in some way, of the loose end they had left. Well, +the way she did catch was simply to make the point +that it didn't now in the least matter. She had +mounted the stairs for this, and she had her moment +again with her younger hostess while Kate, on the +spot, as the latter at the time noted, gave Susan +Shepherd unwonted opportunities. Kate was in +other words, as Aunt Maud engaged her friend, listening +with the handsomest response to Mrs. Stringham's +impression of the scene they had just quitted. +It was in the tone of the fondest indulgence—almost, +really, that of dove cooing to dove—that Mrs. Lowder +expressed to Milly the hope that it had all gone +beautifully. Her "all" had an ample benevolence; +it soothed and simplified; she spoke as if it were the +two young women, not she and her comrade, who +had been facing the town together. But Milly's +answer had prepared itself while Aunt Maud was on +the stair; she had felt in a rush all the reasons that +would make it the most dovelike; and she gave it, +while she was about it, as earnest, as candid. "I +don't <i>think,</i> dear lady, he's here." +</p><p> +It gave her straightway the measure of the success +she could have as a dove: that was recorded in the +long look of deep criticism, a look without a word, +that Mrs. Lowder poured forth. And the word, +presently, bettered it still. "Oh, you exquisite +thing!" The luscious innuendo of it, almost startling, +lingered in the room, after the visitors had +gone, like an oversweet fragrance. But left alone +with Mrs. Stringham Milly continued to breathe it: +she studied again the dovelike and so set her companion +to mere rich reporting that she averted all inquiry +into her own case. +</p><p> +That, with the new day, was once more her law—though +she saw before her, of course, as something +of a complication, her need, each time, to decide. +She should have to be clear as to how a dove <i>would</i> +act. She settled it, she thought, well enough this +morning by quite readopting her plan in respect to +Sir Luke Strett. That, she was pleased to reflect, +had originally been pitched in the key of a merely iridescent +drab; and although Mrs. Stringham, after +breakfast, began by staring at it as if it had been a +priceless Persian carpet suddenly unrolled at her +feet, she had no scruple, at the end of five minutes, +in leaving her to make the best of it. "Sir Luke +Strett comes, by appointment, to see me at eleven, +but I'm going out on purpose. He's to be told, +please, deceptively, that I'm at home, and, you, as +my representative, when he comes up, are to see him +instead. He will like that, this time, better. So do +be nice to him." It had taken, naturally, more explanation, +and the mention, above all, of the fact that +the visitor was the greatest of doctors; yet when +once the key had been offered Susie slipped it on her +bunch, and her young friend could again feel her +lovely imagination operate. It operated in truth +very much as Mrs. Lowder's, at the last, had done +the night before: it made the air heavy once more +with the extravagance of assent. It might, afresh, +almost have frightened our young woman to see how +people rushed to meet her: <i>had</i> she then so little +time to live that the road must always be spared her? +It was as if they were helping her to take it out on +the spot. Susie—she couldn't deny, and didn't pretend +to—might, of a truth, on <i>her</i> side, have treated +such news as a flash merely lurid; as to which, to +do Susie justice, the pain of it was all there. But, +none the less, the margin always allowed her young +friend was all there as well; and the proposal now +made her what was it in short but Byzantine? +The vision of Milly's perception of the propriety of +the matter had, at any rate, quickly engulfed, so far +as her attitude was concerned, any surprise and any +shock; so that she only desired, the next thing, perfectly +to possess the facts. Milly could easily speak, +on this, as if there were only one: she made nothing +of such another as that she had felt herself menaced. +The great fact, in fine, was that she <i>knew</i> +him to desire just now, more than anything else, to +meet, quite apart, some one interested in her. Who +therefore so interested as her faithful Susan? The +only other circumstance that, by the time she had +quitted her friend, she had treated as worth mentioning +was the circumstance of her having at first +intended to keep quiet. She had originally best seen +herself as sweetly secretive. As to that she had +changed, and her present request was the result. +She didn't say why she had changed, but she trusted +her faithful Susan. Their visitor would trust her +not less, and she herself would adore their visitor. +Moreover he wouldn't—the girl felt sure—tell her +anything dreadful. The worst would be that he +was in love and that he needed a confidant to work +it. And now she was going to the National Gallery. +</p> +<br> +<h2 align="center">XVI</h2> +<br> +<p> +The idea of the National Gallery had been with +her from the moment of her hearing from Sir Luke +Strett about his hour of coming. It had been in her +mind as a place so meagrely visited, as one of the +places that had seemed at home one of the attractions +of Europe and one of its highest aids to culture, but +that—the old story—the typical frivolous always +ended by sacrificing to vulgar pleasures. She had +had perfectly, at those whimsical moments on the +Brünig, the half-shamed sense of turning her back +on such opportunities for real improvement as had +figured to her, from of old, in connection with the +continental tour, under the general head of "pictures +and things"; and now she knew for what she had +done so. The plea had been explicit—she had done +so for life, as opposed to learning; the upshot of +which had been that life was now beautifully provided +for. In spite of those few dips and dashes +into the many-coloured stream of history for which +of late Kate Croy had helped her to find time, there +were possible great chances she had neglected, possible +great moments she should, save for to-day, have +all but missed. She might still, she had felt, overtake +one or two of them among the Titians and the +Turners; she had been honestly nursing the hour, +and, once she was in the benignant halls, her faith +knew itself justified. It was the air she wanted and +the world she would now exclusively choose; the +quiet chambers, nobly overwhelming, rich but slightly +veiled, opened out round her and made her presently +say "If I could lose myself <i>here!"</i> There +were people, people in plenty, but, admirably, no personal +question. It was immense, outside, the personal +question; but she had blissfully left it outside, +and the nearest it came, for a quarter of an hour, +to glimmering again into sight was when she +watched for a little one of the more earnest of the +lady-copyists. Two or three in particular, spectacled, +aproned, absorbed, engaged her sympathy to +an absurd extent, seemed to show her for the time +the right way to live. She should have been a lady copyist—it +met so the case. The case was the case +of escape, of living under water, of being at once +impersonal and firm. There it was before one—one +had only to stick and stick. +</p><p> +Milly yielded to this charm till she was almost +ashamed; she watched the lady-copyists till she +found herself wondering what would be thought by +others of a young woman, of adequate aspect, who +should appear to regard them as the pride of the +place. She would have liked to talk to them, to get, +as it figured to her, into their lives, and was deterred +but by the fact that she didn't quite see herself as +purchasing imitations and yet feared she might excite +the expectation of purchase. She really knew +before long that what held her was the mere refuge, +that something within her was after all too weak +for the Turners and Titians. They joined hands +about her in a circle too vast, though a circle that a +year before she would only have desired to trace. +They were truly for the larger, not for the smaller +life, the life of which the actual pitch, for example, +was an interest, the interest of compassion, in misguided +efforts. She marked absurdly her little stations, +blinking, in her shrinkage of curiosity, at the +glorious walls, yet keeping an eye on vistas and approaches, +so that she shouldn't be flagrantly caught. +The vistas and approaches drew her in this way from +room to room, and she had been through many parts +of the show, as she supposed, when she sat down to +rest. There were chairs in scant clusters, places +from which one could gaze. Milly indeed at present +fixed her eyes more than elsewhere on the appearance, +first, that she couldn't quite, after all, have accounted +to an examiner for the order of her +"schools," and then on that of her being more tired +than she had meant, in spite of her having been so +much less intelligent. They found, her eyes, it +should be added, other occupation as well, which she +let them freely follow: they rested largely, in her +vagueness, on the vagueness of other visitors; they +attached themselves in especial, with mixed results, +to the surprising stream of her compatriots. She +was struck with the circumstance that the great +museum, early in August, was haunted with these +pilgrims, as also with that of her knowing them from +afar, marking them easily, each and all, and recognising +not less promptly that they had ever new +lights for her—new lights on their own darkness. +She gave herself up at last, and it was a consummation +like another: what she should have come to the +National Gallery for to-day would be to watch the +copyists and reckon the Baedekers. That perhaps +was the moral of a menaced state of health—that one +would sit in public places and count the Americans. +It passed the time in a manner; but it seemed already +the second line of defence, and this notwithstanding +the pattern, so unmistakable, of her country-folk. +They were cut out as by scissors, coloured, labelled, +mounted; but their relation to her failed to act—they +somehow did nothing for her. Partly, no +doubt, they didn't so much as notice or know her, +didn't even recognise their community of collapse +with her, the sign on her, as she sat there, that for +her too Europe was "tough." It came to her idly +thus—for her humour could still play—that she +didn't seem then the same success with them as with +the inhabitants of London, who had taken her up on +scarce more of an acquaintance. She could wonder +if they would be different should she go back with +that glamour attached; and she could also wonder, +if it came to that, whether she should ever go back. +Her friends straggled past, at any rate, in all the +vividness of their absent criticism, and she had even +at last the sense of taking a mean advantage. +There was a finer instant, however, at which three +ladies, clearly a mother and daughters, had paused +before her under compulsion of a comment apparently +just uttered by one of them and referring to +some object on the other side of the room. Milly +had her back to the object, but her face very much +to her young compatriot, the one who had spoken +and in whose look she perceived a certain gloom of +recognition. Recognition, for that matter, sat confessedly +in her own eyes: she <i>knew</i> the three, generically, +as easily as a schoolboy with a crib in his lap +would know the answer in class; she felt, like the +schoolboy, guilty enough—questioned, as honour +went, as to her right so to possess, to dispossess, people +who hadn't consciously provoked her. She +would have been able to say where they lived, and +how, had the place and the way been but amenable +to the positive; she bent tenderly, in imagination, +over marital, paternal Mr. Whatever-he-was, at +home, eternally named, with all the honours and +placidities, but eternally unseen and existing only +as some one who could be financially heard from. +The mother, the puffed and composed whiteness of +whose hair had no relation to her apparent age, +showed a countenance almost chemically clean and +dry; her companions wore an air of vague resentment +humanised by fatigue; and the three were +equally adorned with short cloaks of coloured cloth +surmounted by little tartan hoods. The tartans +were doubtless conceivable as different, but the +cloaks, curiously, only thinkable as one. "Handsome? +Well, if you choose to say so." It was the +mother who had spoken, who herself added, after a +pause during which Milly took the reference as to a +picture: "In the English style." The three pair +of eyes had converged, and their possessors had for +an instant rested, with the effect of a drop of the +subject, on this last characterisation—with that, too, +of a gloom not less mute in one of the daughters than +murmured in the other. Milly's heart went out to +them while they turned their backs; she said to herself +that they ought to have known her, that there +was something between them they might have beautifully +put together. But she had lost <i>them</i> also—they +were cold; they left her in her weak wonder +as to what they had been looking at. The "handsome" +disposed her to turn—all the more that the +"English style" would be the English school, which +she liked; only she saw, before moving, by the array +on the side facing her, that she was in fact among +small Dutch pictures. The action of this was again +appreciable—the dim surmise that it wouldn't then +be by a picture that the spring in the three ladies had +been pressed. It was at all events time she should +go, and she turned as she got on her feet. She had +had behind her one of the entrances and various visitors +who had come in while she sat, visitors single +and in pairs—by one of the former of whom she felt +her eyes suddenly held. +</p><p> +This was a gentleman in the middle of the place, +a gentleman who had removed his hat and was for a +moment, while he glanced, absently, as she could see, +at the top tier of the collection, tapping his forehead +with his pocket-handkerchief. The occupation held +him long enough to give Milly time to take for +granted—and a few seconds sufficed—that his face +was the object just observed by her friends. This +could only have been because she concurred in their +tribute, even qualified, and indeed "the English +style" of the gentleman—perhaps by instant contrast +to the American—was what had had the arresting +power. This arresting power, at the same time—and +that was the marvel—had already sharpened +almost to pain, for in the very act of judging the +bared head with detachment she felt herself shaken +by a knowledge of it. It was Merton Densher's +own, and he was standing there, standing long +enough unconscious for her to fix him and then hesitate. +These successions were swift, so that she +could still ask herself in freedom if she had best let +him see her. She could still reply to that that she +shouldn't like him to catch her in the effort to prevent +this; and she might further have decided that +he was too preoccupied to see anything had not a +perception intervened that surpassed the first in violence. +She was unable to think afterwards how long +she had looked at him before knowing herself as +otherwise looked at; all she was coherently to put together +was that she had had a second recognition +without his having noticed her. The source of this +latter shock was nobody less than Kate Croy—Kate +Croy who was suddenly also in the line of vision and +whose eyes met her eyes at their next movement. +Kate was but two yards off—Mr. Densher wasn't +alone. Kate's face specifically said so, for after a +stare as blank at first as Milly's it broke into a far +smile. That was what, wonderfully—in addition to +the marvel of their meeting—passed from her for +Milly; the instant reduction to easy terms of the fact +of their being there, the two young women, together. +It was perhaps only afterwards that the girl fully +felt the connection between this touch and her already +established conviction that Kate was a prodigious +person; yet on the spot she none the less, in a +degree, knew herself handled and again, as she had +been the night before, dealt with—absolutely even +dealt with for her greater pleasure. A minute in +fine hadn't elapsed before Kate had somehow made +her provisionally take everything as natural. The +provisional was just the charm—acquiring that character +from one moment to the other; it represented +happily so much that Kate would explain on the very +first chance. This left moreover—and that was the +greatest wonder—all due margin for amusement at +the way things happened, the monstrous oddity of +their turning up in such a place on the very heels of +their having separated without allusion to it. The +handsome girl was thus literally in control of the +scene by the time Merton Densher was ready to exclaim +with a high flush, or a vivid blush—one didn't +distinguish the embarrassment from the joy—"Why, +Miss Theale: fancy!" and "Why, Miss +Theale: what luck!" +</p><p> +Miss Theale had meanwhile the sense that for him +too, on Kate's part, something wonderful and unspoken +was determinant; and this although, distinctly, +his companion had no more looked at him with a +hint than he had looked at her with a question. He +had looked and he was looking only at Milly herself, +ever so pleasantly and considerately—she scarce +knew what to call it; but without prejudice to her +consciousness, all the same, that women got out of +predicaments better than men. The predicament of +course wasn't definite or phraseable—and the way +they let all phrasing pass was presently to recur to +our young woman as a characteristic triumph of the +civilised state; but she took it for granted, insistently, +with a small private flare of passion, because +the one thing she could think of to do for him was +to show him how she eased him off. She would +really, tired and nervous, have been much disconcerted, +were it not that the opportunity in question +had saved her. It was what had saved her most, +what had made her, after the first few seconds, +almost as brave for Kate as Kate was for her, had +made her only ask herself what their friend would +like of her. That he was at the end of three minutes, +without the least complicated reference, so +smoothly "their" friend was just the effect of their +all being sublimely civilised. The flash in which he +saw this was, for Milly, fairly inspiring—to that +degree in fact that she was even now, on such a +plane, yearning to be supreme. It took, no doubt, +a big dose of inspiration to treat as not funny—or +at least as not unpleasant—the anomaly, for Kate, +that <i>she</i> knew their gentleman, and for herself, that +Kate was spending the morning with him; but +everything continued to make for this after Milly +had tasted of her draught. She was to wonder in +subsequent reflection what in the world they had +actually said, since they had made such a success of +what they didn't say; the sweetness of the draught +for the time, at any rate, was to feel success assured. +What depended on this for Mr. Densher was all obscurity +to her, and she perhaps but invented the +image of his need as a short cut to service. Whatever +were the facts, their perfect manners, all round, +saw them through. The finest part of Milly's own +inspiration, it may further be mentioned, was the +quick perception that what would be of most service +was, so to speak, her own native wood-note. She +had long been conscious with shame for her thin +blood, or at least for her poor economy, of her unused +margin as an American girl—closely indeed as, +in English air, the text might appear to cover the +page. She still had reserves of spontaneity, if not +of comicality; so that all this cash in hand could now +find employment. She became as spontaneous as +possible and as American as it might conveniently +appeal to Mr. Densher, after his travels, to find her. +She said things in the air, and yet flattered herself +that she struck him as saying them not in the tone +of agitation but in the tone of New York. In the +tone of New York agitation was beautifully discounted, +and she had now a sufficient view of how +much it might accordingly help her. +</p><p> +The help was fairly rendered before they left the +place; when her friends presently accepted her invitation +to adjourn with her to luncheon at her hotel, +it was in the Fifth Avenue that the meal might have +waited. Kate had never been there so straight, but +Milly was at present taking her; and if Mr. Densher +had been he had at least never had to come so fast. +She proposed it as the natural thing—proposed it +as the American girl; and she saw herself quickly +justified by the pace at which she was followed. +The beauty of the case was that to do it all she had +only to appear to take Kate's hint. This had said, +in its fine first smile, "Oh yes, our look is queer—but +give me time;" and the American girl could give +time as nobody else could. What Milly thus gave +she therefore made them take—even if, as they +might surmise, it was rather more than they wanted. +In the porch of the museum she expressed her preference +for a four-wheeler; they would take their +course in that guise precisely to multiply the minutes. +She was more than ever justified by the positive +charm that her spirit imparted even to their use of +this conveyance; and she touched her highest point—that +is, certainly, for herself—as she ushered her +companions into the presence of Susie. Susie was +there with luncheon, with her return, in prospect; +and nothing could now have filled her own consciousness +more to the brim than to see this good friend +take in how little she was abjectly anxious. The +cup itself actually offered to this good friend might +in truth well be startling, for it was composed beyond +question of ingredients oddly mixed. She caught +Susie fairly looking at her as if to know whether +she had brought in guests to hear Sir Luke Strett's +report. Well, it was better her companion should +have too much than too little to wonder about; she +had come out "anyway," as they said at home, for +the interest of the thing; and interest truly sat in +her eyes. Milly was none the less, at the sharpest +crisis, a little sorry for her; she could of necessity +extract from the odd scene so comparatively little of +a soothing secret. She saw Mr. Densher suddenly +popping up, but she saw nothing else that had happened. +She saw in the same way her young friend +indifferent to her young friend's doom, and she +lacked what would explain it. The only thing to +keep her in patience was the way, after luncheon, +Kate almost, as might be said, made up to her. This +was actually perhaps as well what most kept Milly +herself in patience. It had in fact for our young +woman a positive beauty—was so marked as a deviation +from the handsome girl's previous courses. +Susie had been a bore to the handsome girl, and the +change was now suggestive. The two sat together, +after they had risen from table, in the apartment in +which they had lunched, making it thus easy for the +other guest and his entertainer to sit in the room adjacent. +This, for the latter personage, was the +beauty; it was almost, on Kate's part, like a prayer +to be relieved. If she honestly liked better to be +"thrown with" Susan Shepherd than with their +other friend, why that said practically everything. +It didn't perhaps altogether say why she had gone +out with him for the morning, but it said, as one +thought, about as much as she could say to his face. +</p><p> +Little by little indeed, under the vividness of +Kate's behaviour, the probabilities fell back into +their order. Merton Densher was in love, and Kate +couldn't help it—could only be sorry and kind: +wouldn't that, without wild flurries, cover everything? +Milly at all events tried it as a cover, tried +it hard, for the time; pulled it over her, in the front, +the larger room, drew it up to her chin with energy. +If it didn't, so treated, do everything for her, it did +so much that she could herself supply the rest. She +made that up by the interest of her great question, +the question of whether, seeing him once more, with +all that, as she called it to herself, had come and +gone, her impression of him would be different from +the impression received in New York. That had +held her from the moment of their leaving the +museum; it kept her company through their drive +and during luncheon; and now that she was a quarter +of an hour alone with him it became acute. She +was to feel at this crisis that no clear, no common +answer, no direct satisfaction on this point, was +to reach her; she was to see her question itself simply +go to pieces. She couldn't tell if he were different +or not, and she didn't know nor care if <i>she</i> were: +these things had ceased to matter in the light of the +only thing she did know. This was that she liked +him, as she put it to herself, as much as ever; and +if that were to amount to liking a new person the +amusement would be but the greater. She had +thought him at first very quiet, in spite of recovery +from his original confusion; though even the shade +of bewilderment, she yet perceived, had not been due +to such vagueness on the subject of her reintensified +identity as the probable sight, over there, of many +thousands of her kind would sufficiently have justified. +No, he was quiet, inevitably, for the first half +of the time, because Milly's own lively line—the line +of spontaneity—made everything else relative; and +because too, so far as Kate was spontaneous, it was +ever so finely in the air among them that the normal +pitch must be kept. Afterwards, when they had got +a little more used, as it were, to each other's separate +felicity, he had begun to talk more, clearly bethought +himself, at a given moment, of what <i>his</i> natural lively +line would be. It would be to take for granted +she must wish to hear of the States, and to give her, +in its order, everything he had seen and done there. +He abounded, of a sudden he almost insisted; he +returned, after breaks, to the charge; and the effect +was perhaps the more odd as he gave no clue whatever +to what he had admired, as he went, or to what +he hadn't. He simply drenched her with his sociable +story—especially during the time they were away +from the others. She had stopped then being American—all +to let him be English; a permission of +which he took, she could feel, both immense and unconscious +advantage. She had really never cared +less for the "States" than at this moment; but that +had nothing to do with the matter. It would have +been the occasion of her life to learn about them, for +nothing could put him off, and he ventured on no +reference to what had happened for herself. It +might have been almost as if he had known that the +greatest of all these adventures was her doing just +what she did then. +</p><p> +It was at this point that she saw the smash of her +great question as complete, saw that all she had to +do with was the sense of being there with him. And +there was no chill for this in what she also presently +saw—that, however he had begun, he was now acting +from a particular desire, determined either by +new facts or new fancies, to be like everyone else, +simplifyingly "kind" to her. He had caught on +already as to manner—fallen into line with everyone +else; and if his spirits verily <i>had</i> gone up it might +well be that he had thus felt himself lighting on the +remedy for all awkwardness. Whatever he did or +he didn't, Milly knew she should still like him—there +was no alternative to that; but her heart could none +the less sink a little on feeling how much his view +of her was destined to have in common with—as she +now sighed over it—<i>the</i> view. She could have +dreamed of his not having <i>the</i> view, of his having +something or other, if need be quite viewless, of his +own; but he might have what he could with least +trouble, and <i>the</i> view wouldn't be, after all, a positive +bar to her seeing him. The defect of it in general—if +she might so ungraciously criticise—was that, by +its sweet universality, it made relations rather prosaically +a matter of course. It anticipated and superseded +the—likewise sweet—operation of real +affinities. It was this that was doubtless marked in +her power to keep him now—this and her glassy lustre +of attention to his pleasantness about the scenery +in the Rockies. She was in truth a little measuring +her success in detaining him by Kate's success in +"standing" Susan. It would not be, if she could +help it, Mr. Densher who should first break down. +Such at least was one of the forms of the girl's inward +tension; but beneath even this deep reason was +a motive still finer. What she had left at home on +going out to give it a chance was meanwhile still, +was more sharply and actively, there. What had +been at the top of her mind about it and then been +violently pushed down—this quantity was again +working up. As soon as their friends should go +Susie would break out, and what she would break +out upon wouldn't be—interested in that gentleman +as she had more than once shown herself—the personal +fact of Mr. Densher. Milly had found in her +face at luncheon a feverish glitter, and it told what +she was full of. She didn't care now for Mr. Densher's +personal fact. Mr. Densher had risen before +her only to find his proper place in her imagination +already, of a sudden, occupied. His personal fact +failed, so far as she was concerned, to be personal, +and her companion noted the failure. This could +only mean that she was full to the brim, of Sir Luke +Strett, and of what she had had from him. What +<i>had</i> she had from him? It was indeed now working +upward again that Milly would do well to know, +though knowledge looked stiff in the light of Susie's +glitter. It was therefore, on the whole, because +Densher's young hostess was divided from it by so +thin a partition that she continued to cling to the +Rockies. + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wings of the Dove, Volume 1 of 2, by +Henry James + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINGS OF THE DOVE, VOL 1 OF 2 *** + +***** This file should be named 29452-h.htm or 29452-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/4/5/29452/ + +Produced by James Adcock. Special thanks to The Internet +Archive: American Libraries, and Project Gutenberg Australia + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> |