oitwhenI’mjustnotthere.Youarequiterightlifetomeisjustaspectacle,which—thankGod,andthankItaly,andthankyou—isnowmorebeautifulandhearteningthanithaseverbeenbefore.”
Shesaidsolemnly,“Iwishsomethingwouldhappentoyou,mydearfriendIwishsomethingwouldhappentoyou.”
“Butwhy?”heasked,smiling.“ProvetomewhyIdon’tdoasIam.”
Shealsosmiled,verygravely.Shecouldnotproveit.Noargumentexisted.Theirdiscourse,splendidasithadbeen,resultedinnothing,andtheirrespectiveopinionsandpolicieswereexactlythesamewhentheyleftthechurchaswhentheyhadenteredit.
Harrietwasrudeatlunch.ShecalledMissAbbottaturncoatandacowardtoherface.MissAbbottresentedneitherepithet,feelingthatonewasjustifiedandtheothernotunreasonable.Shetriedtoavoideventhesuspicionofsatireinherreplies.ButHarrietwassurethatshewassatiricalbecauseshewassocalm.Shegotmoreandmoreviolent,andPhilipatonetimefearedthatshewouldcometoblows.
“Lookhere!”hecried,withsomethingoftheoldmanner,“it’stoohotforthis.We’vebeentalkingandinterviewingeachotherallthemorning,andIhaveanotherinterviewthisafternoon.Idostipulateforsilence.Leteachladyretiretoherbedroomwithabook.”
“Iretiretopack,”saidHarriet.“PleaseremindSignorCarella,Philip,thatthebabyistobeherebyhalf-pasteightthisevening.”
“Oh,certainly,Harriet.Ishallmakeapointofremindinghim.”
“Andorderacarriagetotakeustotheeveningtrain.”
“Andplease,”saidMissAbbott,“wouldyouorderacarriageformetoo?”
“Yougoing?”heexclaimed.
“Ofcourse,”shereplied,suddenlyflushing.“Whynot?”
“Why,ofcourseyouwouldbegoing.Twocarriages,then.Twocarriagesfortheeveningtrain.”Helookedathissisterhopelessly.“Harriet,whateverareyouupto?Weshallneverbeready.”
“Ordermycarriagefortheeveningtrain,”saidHarriet,anddeparted.
“Well,IsupposeIshall.AndIshallalsohavemyinterviewwithSignorCarella.”
MissAbbottgavealittlesigh.
“Butwhyshouldyoumind?DoyousupposethatIshallhavetheslightestinfluenceoverhim?”
“No.But—Ican’trepeatallthatIsaidinthechurch.Yououghtnevertoseehimagain.YououghttobundleHarrietintoacarriage,notthisevening,butnow,anddriveherstraightaway.”
“PerhapsIought.Butitisn’taverybig‘ought.’WhateverHarrietandIdotheissueisthesame.Why,Icanseethesplendourofit—eventhehumour.Ginosittinguphereonthemountain-topwithhiscub.Wecomeandaskforit.Hewelcomesus.Weaskforitagain.Heisequallypleasant.I’magreeabletospendthewholeweekbargainingwithhim.ButIknowthatattheendofitIshalldescendempty-handedtotheplains.Itmightbefinerofmetomakeupmymind.ButI’mnotafinecharacter.Andnothinghangsonit.”
“PerhapsIamextreme,”shesaidhumbly.“I’vebeentryingtorunyou,justlikeyourmother.IfeelyououghttofightitoutwithHarriet.Everylittletrifle,forsomereason,doesseemincalculablyimportanttoday,andwhenyousayofathingthat‘nothinghangsonit,’itsoundslikeblasphemy.There’sneveranyknowing—(howamItoputit?)—whichofouractions,whichofouridlenesseswon’thavethingshangingonitforever.”
Heassented,butherremarkhadonlyanaestheticvalue