The Ambassadors Henry James (novel24 txt) đ
- Author: Henry James
Book online «The Ambassadors Henry James (novel24 txt) đ». Author Henry James
Strether, ever restless in such debates, took a vague turn âIt will all depend on who she is. That of courseâ âthe proved ability to deal with dear old Woollett, since Iâm sure she does deal with itâ âis what makes so strongly for Mamie.â
âMamie?â
He stopped short, at her tone, before her; then, though seeing that it represented not vagueness, but a momentary embarrassed fullness, let his exclamation come. âYou surely havenât forgotten about Mamie!â
âNo, I havenât forgotten about Mamie,â she smiled. âThereâs no doubt whatever that thereâs ever so much to be said for her. Mamieâs my girl!â she roundly declared.
Strether resumed for a minute his walk. âSheâs really perfectly lovely, you know. Far prettier than any girl Iâve seen over here yet.â
âThatâs precisely on what I perhaps most build.â And she mused a moment in her friendâs way. âI should positively like to take her in hand!â
He humoured the fancy, though indeed finally to deprecate it. âOh but donât, in your zeal, go over to her! I need you most and canât, you know, be left.â
But she kept it up. âI wish theyâd send her out to me!â
âIf they knew you,â he returned, âthey would.â
âAh but donât they?â âafter all that, as Iâve understood you youâve told them about me?â
He had paused before her again, but he continued his course âThey willâ âbefore, as you say, Iâve done.â Then he came out with the point he had wished after all most to make. âIt seems to give away now his game. This is what he has been doingâ âkeeping me along for. He has been waiting for them.â
Miss Gostrey drew in her lips. âYou see a good deal in it!â
âI doubt if I see as much as you. Do you pretend,â he went on, âthat you donât seeâ â?â
âWell, what?ââ âshe pressed him as he paused.
âWhy that there must be a lot between themâ âand that it has been going on from the first; even from before I came.â
She took a minute to answer. âWho are they thenâ âif itâs so grave?â
âIt maynât be graveâ âit may be gay. But at any rate itâs marked. Only I donât know,â Strether had to confess, âanything about them. Their name for instance was a thing that, after little Bilhamâs information, I found it a kind of refreshment not to feel obliged to follow up.â
âOh,â she returned, âif you think youâve got offâ â!â
Her laugh produced in him a momentary gloom. âI donât think Iâve got off. I only think Iâm breathing for about five minutes. I dare say I shall have, at the best, still to get on.â A look, over it all, passed between them, and the next minute he had come back to good humour. âI donât meanwhile take the smallest interest in their name.â
âNor in their nationality?â âAmerican, French, English, Polish?â
âI donât care the least little âhang,âââ he smiled, âfor their nationality. It would be nice if theyâre Polish!â he almost immediately added.
âVery nice indeed.â The transition kept up her spirits. âSo you see you do care.â
He did this contention a modified justice. âI think I should if they were Polish. Yes,â he thoughtâ ââthere might be joy in that.â
âLet us then hope for it.â But she came after this nearer to the question. âIf the girlâs of the right age of course the mother canât be. I mean for the virtuous attachment. If the girlâs twentyâ âand she canât be lessâ âthe mother must be at least forty. So it puts the mother out. Sheâs too old for him.â
Strether, arrested again, considered and demurred. âDo you think so? Do you think anyone would be too old for him? Iâm eighty, and Iâm too young. But perhaps the girl,â he continued, âisnât twenty. Perhaps sheâs only tenâ âbut such a little dear that Chad finds himself counting her in as an attraction of the acquaintance. Perhaps sheâs only five. Perhaps the motherâs but five-and-twentyâ âa charming young widow.â
Miss Gostrey entertained the suggestion. âShe is a widow then?â
âI havenât the least idea!â They once more, in spite of this vagueness, exchanged a lookâ âa look that was perhaps the longest yet. It seemed in fact, the next thing, to require to explain itself; which it did as it could. âI only feel what Iâve told youâ âthat he has some reason.â
Miss Gostreyâs imagination had taken its own flight. âPerhaps sheâs not a widow.â
Strether seemed to accept the possibility with reserve. Still he accepted it. âThen thatâs why the attachmentâ âif itâs to herâ âis virtuous.â
But she looked as if she scarce followed. âWhy is it virtuous ifâ âsince sheâs freeâ âthereâs nothing to impose on it any condition?â
He laughed at her question. âOh I perhaps donât mean as virtuous as that! Your idea is that it can be virtuousâ âin any sense worthy of the nameâ âonly if sheâs not free? But what does it become then,â he asked, âfor her?â
âAh thatâs another matter.â He said nothing for a moment, and she soon went on. âI dare say youâre right, at any rate, about Mr. Newsomeâs little plan. He has been trying youâ âhas been reporting on you to these friends.â
Strether meanwhile had had time to think more. âThen whereâs his straightness?â
âWell, as we say, itâs struggling up, breaking out, asserting itself as it can. We can be on the side, you see, of his straightness. We can help him. But he has made out,â said Miss Gostrey, âthat youâll do.â
âDo for what?â
âWhy, for themâ âfor ces dames. He has watched you, studied you, liked youâ âand recognised that they must. Itâs a great compliment to you, my dear man; for Iâm sure theyâre particular. You came out for a success. Well,â she gaily declared, âyouâre having it!â
He took it from her with momentary patience and then turned abruptly away. It was always convenient to him that there were so many fine things in her room to look at. But the examination of two or three of them appeared soon to have determined
Comments (0)