artistic beauty than she has hitherto struck us as being, but she had after all her preferences andadmirations. One of the latter was the little Correggio of the Tribune--the Virgin kneeling downbefore the sacred infant, who lies in a litter of straw, and clapping her hands to him while hedelightedly laughs and crows. Henrietta had a special devotion to this intimate scene--she thoughtit the most beautiful picture in the world. On her way, at present, from New York to Rome, shewas spending but three days in Florence, and yet reminded herself that they must not elapse第 303 页 共 391 页原版英语阅读网without her paying another visit to her favourite work of art. She had a great sense of beauty in allways, and it involved a good many intellectual obligations. She was about to turn into the Tribunewhen a gentleman came out of it; whereupon she gave a little exclamation and stood before CasparGoodwood."I've just been at your hotel," she said. "I left a card for you.""I'm very much honoured," Caspar Goodwood answered as if he really meant it."It was not to honour you I did it; I've called on you before and I know you don't like it. It was totalk to you a little about something."He looked for a moment at the buckle in her hat. "I shall be very glad to hear what you wish tosay.""You don't like to talk with me," said Henrietta. "But I don't care for that; I don't talk for youramusement. I wrote a word to ask you to come and see me; but since I've met you here this will doas well.""I was just going away," Goodwood stated; "but of course I'll stop." He was civil, but notenthusiastic.Henrietta, however, never looked for great professions, and she was so much in earnest that shewas thankful he would listen to her on any terms. She asked him first, none the less, if he had seenall the pictures."All I want to. I've been here an hour.""I wonder if you've seen my Correggio," said Henrietta. "I came up on purpose to have a look atit." She went into the Tribune and he slowly accompanied her."I suppose I've seen it, but I didn't know it was yours. I don't remember pictures--especially thatsort." She had pointed out her favourite work, and he asked her if it was about Correggio shewished to talk with him."No," said Henrietta, "it's about something less harmonious!" They had the small, brilliant room, asplendid cabinet of treasures, to themselves; there was only a custode hovering about the MediceanVenus. "I want you to do me a favour," Miss Stackpole went on.Caspar Goodwood frowned a little, but he expressed no embarrassment at the sense of not lookingeager. His face was that of a much older man than our earlier friend. "I'm sure it's something Ishan't like," he said rather loudly."No, I don't think you'll like it. If you did it would be no favour.""Well, let's hear it," he went on in the tone of a man quite conscious of his patience."You may say there's no particular reason why you should do me a favour. Indeed I only know ofone: the fact that if you'd let me I'd gladly do you one." Her soft, exact tone, in which there was noattempt at effect, had an extreme sincerity; and her companion, though he presented rather a hardsurface, couldn't help being touched by it. When he was touched he rarely showed it, however, bythe usual signs; he neither blushed, nor looked away, nor looked conscious. He only fixed hisattention more directly; he seemed to consider with added firmness. Henrietta continued thereforedisinterestedly, without the sense of an advantage. "I may say now, indeed--it seems a good time-第 304 页 共 391 页原版英语阅读网that if I've ever annoyed you (and I think sometimes I have) it's because I knew I was willing tosuffer annoyance for you. I've troubled you-- doubtless. But Is'd TAKE trouble for you."Goodwood hesitated. "You're taking trouble now.""Yes, I am--some. I want you to consider whether it's better on the whole that you should go toRome.""I thought you were going to say that!" he answered rather artlessly."You HAVE considered it then?""Of course I have, very carefully. I've looked all round it. Otherwise I shouldn't have come so faras this. That's what I stayed in Paris two months for. I was thinking it over.""I'm afraid you decided as you liked. You decided it was best because you were so muchattracted.""Best for whom, do you mean?" Goodwood demanded."Well, for yourself first. For Mrs. Osmond next.""Oh, it won't do HER any good! I don't flatter myself that.""Won't it do her some harm?--that's the question.""I don't see what it will matter to her. I'm nothing to Mrs. Osmond. But if you want to know, I dowant to see her myself.""Yes, and that's why you go.""Of course it is. Could there be a better reason?""How will it help you?--that's what I want to know," said Miss Stackpole."That's just what I can't tell you. It's just what I was thinking about in Paris.""It will make you more discontented.""Why do you say 'more' so?" Goodwood asked rather sternly. "How do you know I'mdiscontented?""Well," said Henrietta, hesitating a little, "you seem never to have cared for another.""How do you know what I care for?" he cried with a big blush. "Just now I care to go to Rome."Henrietta looked at him in silence, with a sad yet luminous expression. "Well," she observed atlast, "I only wanted to tell you what I think; I had it on my mind. Of course you think it's none ofmy business. But nothing is any one's business, on that principle.""It's very kind of you; I'm greatly obliged to you for your interest," said Caspar Goodwood. "I shallgo to Rome and I shan't hurt Mrs. Osmond.""You won't hurt her, perhaps. But will you help her?--that's the real issue.""Is she in need of help?" he asked slowly, with a penetrating look."Most women always are," said Henrietta, with conscientious evasiveness and generalising lesshopefully than usual. "If you go to Rome," she added, "I hope you'll be a true friend--snot a selfishone!" And she turned off and began to look at the pictures.第 305 页 共 391 页原版英语阅读网Caspar Goodwood let her go and stood watching her while she wandered round the room; but aftera moment he rejoined her. "You've heard something about her here," he then resumed. "I shouldlike to know what you've heard."Henrietta had never prevaricated in her life, and, though on this occasion there might have been afitness in doing so, she decided, after thinking some minutes, to make no superficial exception."Yes, I've heard," she answered; "but as I don't want you to go to Rome I won't tell you.""Just as you please. I shall see for myself," he said. Then inconsistently, for him, "You've heardshe's unhappy!" he added."Oh, you won't see that!" Henrietta exclaimed."I hope not. When do you start?""To-morrow, by the evening train. And you?"Goodwood hung back; he had no desire to make his journey to Rome in Miss Stackpole'scompany. His indifference to this advantage was not of the same character as Gilbert Osmond's,but it had at this moment an equal distinctness. It was rather a tribute to Miss Stackpole's virtuesthan a reference to her faults. He thought her very remarkable, very brilliant, and he had, in theory,no objection to the class to which she belonged. Lady correspondents appeared to him a part of thenatural scheme of things in a progressive country, and though he never read their letters hesupposed that they ministered somehow to social prosperity. But it was this very eminence of theirposition that made him wish Miss Stackpole didn't take so much for granted. She took for grantedthat he was always ready for some allusion to Mrs. Osmond; she had done so when they met inParis, six weeks after his arrival in Europe, and she had repeated the assumption with everysuccessive opportunity. He had no wish whatever to allude to Mrs. Osmond; he was NOT alwaysthinking of her; he was perfectly sure of that. He was the most reserved, the least colloquial ofmen, and this enquiring authoress was constantly flashing her lantern into the quiet darkness of hissoul. He wished she didn't care so much; he even wished, though it might seem rather brutal ofhim, that she would leave him alone. In spite of this, however, he just now made other reflections-whichshow how widely different, in effect, his ill-humour was from Gilbert Osmond's. He desiredto go immediately to Rome; he would have liked to go alone, in the night-train. He hated theEuropean railway-carriages, in which one sat for hours in a vise, knee to knee and nose to nosewith a foreigner to whom one presently found one's self objecting with all the added vehemence ofone's wish to have the window open; and if they were worse at night even than by day, at least atnight one could sleep and dream of an American saloon-car. But he couldn't take a night-trainwhen Miss Stackpole was starting in the morning; it struck him that this would be an insult to anunprotected woman. Nor could he wait until after she had gone unless he should wait longer thanhe had patience for. It wouldn't do to start the next day. She worried him; she oppressed him; theidea of spending the day in a European railway-carriage with her offered a complication ofirritations. Still, she was a lady travelling alone; it was his duty to put himself out for her. Therecould be no two questions about that; it was a perfectly clear necessity. He looked extremely gravefor some moments and then said, wholly without the flourish of gallantry but in a tone of extremedistinctness, "Of course if you're going to-morrow I'll go too, as I may be of assistance to you.""Well, Mr. Goodwood, I should hope so!" Henrietta returned imperturbably.第 306 页 共 391 页原版英语阅读网CHAPTER XLVI have already had reason to say that Isabel knew her husband to be displeased by the continuanceof Ralph's visit to Rome. That knowledge was very present to her as she went to her cousin's hotelthe day after she had invited Lord Warburton to give a tangible proof of his sincerity; and at thismoment, as at others, she had a sufficient perception of the sources of Osmond's opposition. Hewished her to have no freedom of mind, and he knew perfectly well that Ralph was an apostle offreedom. It was just because he was this, Isabel said to herself, that it was a refreshment to go andsee him. It will be perceived that she partook of this refreshment in spite of her husband's aversionto it, that is partook of it, as she flattered herself, discreetly. She had not as yet undertaken to act indirect opposition to his wishes; he was her appointed and inscribed master; she gazed at momentswith a sort of incredulous blankness at this fact. It weighed upon her imagination, however;constantly present to her mind were all the traditionary decencies and sanctities of marriage. Theidea of violating them filled her with shame as well as with dread, for on giving herself away shehad lost sight of this contingency in the perfect belief that her husband's intentions were asgenerous as her own. She seemed to see, none the less, the rapid approach of the day when sheshould have to take back something she had solemnly bestown. Such a ceremony would be odiousand monstrous; she tried to shut her eyes to it meanwhile. Osmond would do nothing to help it bybeginning first; he would put that burden upon her to the end. He had not yet formally forbiddenher to call upon Ralph; but she felt sure that unless Ralph should very soon depart this prohibitionwould come. How could poor Ralph depart? The weather as yet made it impossible. She couldperfectly understand her husband's wish for the event; she didn't, to be just, see how he COULDlike her to be with her cousin. Ralph never said a word against him, but Osmond's sore, muteprotest was none the less founded. If he should positively interpose, if he should put forth hisauthority, she would have to decide, and that wouldn't be easy. The prospect made her heart beatand her cheeks burn, as I say, in advance; there were moments when, in her wish to avoid an openrupture, she found herself wishing Ralph would start even at a risk. And it was of no use that,when catching herself in this state of mind, she called herself a feeble spirit, a coward. It was notthat she loved Ralph less, but that almost anything seemed preferable to repudiating the mostserious act--the single sacred act--of her life. That appeared to make the whole future hideous. Tobreak with Osmond once would be to break for ever; any open acknowledgement of irreconcilableneeds would be an admission that their whole attempt had proved a failure. For them there couldbe no condonement, no compromise, no easy forgetfulness, no formal readjustment. They hadattempted only one thing, but that one thing was to have been exquisite. Once they missed itnothing else would do; there was no conceivable substitute for that success. For the moment, Isabelwent to the Hotel de Paris as often as she thought well; the measure of propriety was in the canonof taste, and there couldn't have been a better proof that morality was, so to speak, a matter ofearnest appreciation. Isabel's application of that measure had been particularly free to-day, for inaddition to the general truth that she couldn't leave Ralph to die alone she had something importantto ask of him. This indeed was Gilbert's business as well as her own.She came very soon to what she wished to speak of. "I want you to answer me a question. It'sabout Lord Warburton."第 307 页 共 391 页原版英语阅读网"I think I guess your question," Ralph answered from his arm-chair, out of which his thin legsprotruded at greater length than ever."Very possibly you guess it. Please then answer it.""Oh, I don't say I can do that.""You're intimate with him," she said; "you've a great deal of observation of him.""Very true. But think how he must dissimulate!""Why should he dissimulate? That's not his nature.""Ah, you must remember that the circumstances are peculiar," said Ralph with an air of privateamusement."To a certain extent--yes. But is he really in love?""Very much, I think. I can make that out.""Ah!" said Isabel with a certain dryness.Ralph looked at her as if his mild hilarity had been touched with mystification. "You say that as ifyou were disappointed."Isabel got up, slowly smoothing her gloves and eyeing them thoughtfully. "It's after all no businessof mine.""You're very philosophic," said her cousin. And then in a moment: "May I enquire what you'retalking about?"Isabel stared. "I thought you knew. Lord Warburton tells me he wants, of all things in the world, tomarry Pansy. I've told you that before, without eliciting a comment from you. You might risk onethis morning, I think. Is it your belief that he really cares for her?""Ah, for Pansy, no!" cried Ralph very positively."But you said just now he did."Ralph waited a moment. "That he cared for you, Mrs. Osmond."Isabel shook her head gravely. "That's nonsense, you know.""Of course it is. But the nonsense is Warburton's, not mine.""That would be very tiresome." She spoke, as she flattered herself, with much subtlety."I ought to tell you indeed," Ralph went on, "that to me he has denied it.""It's very good of you to talk about it together! Has he also told you that he's in love with Pansy?""He has spoken very well of her--very properly. He has let me know, of course, that he thinks shewould do very well at Lockleigh.""Does he really think it?""Ah, what Warburton really thinks--!" said Ralph.Isabel fell to smoothing her gloves again; they were long, loose gloves on which she could freelyexpend herself. Soon, however, she looked up, and then, "Ah, Ralph, you give me no help!" shecried abruptly and passionately.第 308 页 共 391 页原版英语阅读网It was the first time she had alluded to the need for help, and the words shook her cousin with theirviolence. He gave a long murmur of relief, of pity, of tenderness; it seemed to him that at last thegulf between them had been bridged. It was this that made him exclaim in a moment: "Howunhappy you must be!"He had no sooner spoken than she recovered her self-possession, and the first use she made of itwas to pretend she had not heard him. "When I talk of your helping me I talk great nonsense," shesaid with a quick smile. "The idea of my troubling you with my domestic embarrassments! Thematter's very simple; Lord Warburton must get on by himself. I can't undertake to see himthrough.""He ought to succeed easily," said Ralph.Isabel debated. "Yes--but he has not always succeeded.""Very true. You know, however, how that always surprised me. Is Miss Osmond capable of givingus a surprise?""It will come from him, rather. I seem to see that after all he'll let the matter drop.""He'll do nothing dishonourable," said Ralph."I'm very sure of that. Nothing can be more honourable than for him to leave the poor child alone.She cares for another person, and it's cruel to attempt to bribe her by magnificent offers to givehim up.""Cruel to the other person perhaps--the one she cares for. But Warburton isn't obliged to mindthat.""No, cruel to her," said Isabel. "She would be very unhappy if she were to allow herself to bepersuaded to desert poor Mr. Rosier. That idea seems to amuse you; of course you're not in lovewith him. He has the merit--for Pansy--of being in love with Pansy. She can see at a glance thatLord Warburton isn't."