Other
Read books online Ā» Other Ā» The Wings of the Dove Henry James (android based ebook reader TXT) šŸ“–

Book online Ā«The Wings of the Dove Henry James (android based ebook reader TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author Henry James



1 ... 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 ... 190
Go to page:
tell her. That took time, and the proof was that, as he felt on the spot, he couldnā€™t have brought it all with him before this afternoon. He had brought it, to the last syllable, and, out of the quantity it wouldnā€™t be hardā ā€”as he in fact foundā ā€”to produce, for Kateā€™s understanding, his first reason.

ā€œA fortnight, yesā ā€”it was a fortnight Friday; but Iā€™ve only been keeping in, you see, with our wonderful system.ā€ He was so easily justified as that this of itself plainly enough prevented her saying she didnā€™t see. Their wonderful system was accordingly still vivid for her; and such a gage of its equal vividness for himself was precisely what she must have asked. He hadnā€™t even to dot his iā€™s beyond the remark that on the very face of it, she would remember, their wonderful system attached no premium to rapidities of transition. ā€œI couldnā€™t quiteā ā€”donā€™t you know?ā ā€”take my rebound with a rush; and I suppose Iā€™ve been instinctively hanging off to minimise, for you as well as for myself, the appearances of rushing. Thereā€™s a sort of fitness. But I knew youā€™d understand.ā€ It was presently as if she really understood so well that she almost appealed from his insistenceā ā€”yet looking at him too, he was not unconscious, as if this mastery of fitnesses was a strong sign for her of what she had done to him. He might have struck her as expert for contingencies in the very degree of her having in Venice struck him as expert. He smiled over his plea for a renewal with stages and steps, a thing shaded, as they might say, and graduated; thoughā ā€”finely as she must respondā ā€”she met the smile but as she had met his entrance five minutes before. Her soft gravity at that momentā ā€”which was yet not solemnity, but the look of a consciousness charged with life to the brim and wishing not to overflowā ā€”had not qualified her welcome; what had done this being much more the presence in the room, for a couple of minutes, of the footman who had introduced him and who had been interrupted in preparing the tea-table.

Mrs. Lowderā€™s reply to Densherā€™s note had been to appoint the tea-hour, five oā€™clock on Sunday, for his seeing them. Kate had thereafter wired him, without a signature, ā€œCome on Sunday before teaā ā€”about a quarter of an hour, which will help usā€; and he had arrived therefore scrupulously at twenty minutes to five. Kate was alone in the room and hadnā€™t delayed to tell him that Aunt Maud, as she had happily gathered, was to be, for the intervalā ā€”not long but preciousā ā€”engaged with an old servant, retired and pensioned, who had been paying her a visit and who was within the hour to depart again for the suburbs. They were to have the scrap of time, after the withdrawal of the footman, to themselves, and there was a moment when, in spite of their wonderful system, in spite of the proscription of rushes and the propriety of shades, it proclaimed itself indeed precious. And all without prejudiceā ā€”that was what kept it nobleā ā€”to Kateā€™s high sobriety and her beautiful self-command. If he had his discretion she had her perfect manner, which was her decorum. Mrs. Stringham, he had, to finish with the question of his delay, furthermore observed, Mrs. Stringham would have written to Mrs. Lowder of his having quitted the place; so that it wasnā€™t as if he were hoping to cheat them. Theyā€™d know he was no longer there.

ā€œYes, weā€™ve known it.ā€

ā€œAnd you continue to hear?ā€

ā€œFrom Mrs. Stringham? Certainly. By which I mean Aunt Maud does.ā€

ā€œThen youā€™ve recent news?ā€

Her face showed a wonder. ā€œUp to within a day or two I believe. But havenā€™t you?ā€

ā€œNoā ā€”Iā€™ve heard nothing.ā€ And it was now that he felt how much he had to tell her. ā€œI donā€™t get letters. But Iā€™ve been sure Mrs. Lowder does.ā€ With which he added: ā€œThen of course you know.ā€ He waited as if she would show what she knew; but she only showed in silence the dawn of a surprise that she couldnā€™t control. There was nothing but for him to ask what he wanted. ā€œIs Miss Theale alive?ā€

Kateā€™s look at this was large. ā€œDonā€™t you know?ā€

ā€œHow should I, my dearā ā€”in the absence of everything?ā€ And he himself stared as for light. ā€œSheā€™s dead?ā€ Then as with her eyes on him she slowly shook her head he uttered a strange ā€œNot yet?ā€

It came out in Kateā€™s face that there were several questions on her lips, but the one she presently put was: ā€œIs it very terrible?ā€

ā€œThe manner of her so consciously and helplessly dying?ā€ He had to think a moment. ā€œWell, yesā ā€”since you ask me: very terrible to meā ā€”so far as, before I came away, I had any sight of it. But I donā€™t think,ā€ he went on, ā€œthatā ā€”though Iā€™ll tryā ā€”I can quite tell you what it was, what it is, for me. Thatā€™s why I probably just sounded to you,ā€ he explained, ā€œas if I hoped it might be over.ā€

She gave him her quietest attention, but he by this time saw that, so far as telling her all was concerned, she would be divided between the wish and the reluctance to hear it; between the curiosity that, not unnaturally, would consume her and the opposing scruple of a respect for misfortune. The more she studied him tooā ā€”and he had never so felt her closely attached to his faceā ā€”the more the choice of an attitude would become impossible to her. There would simply be a feeling uppermost, and the feeling wouldnā€™t be eagerness. This perception grew in him fast, and he even, with his imagination, had for a moment the quick forecast of her possibly breaking out at him, should he go too far, with a wonderful: ā€œWhat horrors are you telling me?ā€ It would have the soundā ā€”wouldnā€™t it be open to him fairly to bring that out himself?ā ā€”of a repudiation, for pity and almost for shame, of everything that in Venice had passed between them.

1 ... 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 ... 190
Go to page:

Free ebook Ā«The Wings of the Dove Henry James (android based ebook reader TXT) šŸ“–Ā» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment