the chaperon-第9节

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sure　or　not。　　Please　let　me　go。〃

He　had　barred　her　way；　he　kept　her　longer。　　〃I'll　go　and　speak　to
your　mother　myself！〃

Even　in　the　midst　of　another　emotion　she　was　amused　at　the　air　of
audacity　accompanying　this　declaration。　　Poor　Captain　Jay　might　have
been　on　the　point　of　marching　up　to　a　battery。　　She　looked　at　him　a
moment；　then　she　said：　　〃You'll　be　disappointed！〃

〃Disappointed？〃

〃She's　much　more　proper　than　grandmamma；　because　she's　much　more
amiable。〃

〃Dear　Miss　Tramoredear　Miss　Tramore！〃　the　young　man　murmured
helplessly。

〃You'll　see　for　yourself。　　Only　there's　another　condition；〃　Rose　went
on。

〃Another？〃　he　cried；　with　discouragement　and　alarm。

〃You　must　understand　thoroughly；　before　you　throw　in　your　lot　with　us
even　for　a　few　days；　what　our　position　really　is。〃

〃Is　it　very　bad？〃　asked　Bertram　Jay　artlessly。

〃No　one　has　anything　to　do　with　us；　no　one　speaks　to　us；　no　one　looks
at　us。〃

〃Really？〃　stared　the　young　man。

〃We've　no　social　existence；　we're　utterly　despised。〃

〃Oh；　Miss　Tramore！〃　Captain　Jay　interposed。　　He　added　quickly；
vaguely；　and　with　a　want　of　presence　of　mind　of　which　he　as　quickly
felt　ashamed：　　〃Do　none　of　your　family？〃　　The　question　collapsed；
the　brilliant　girl　was　looking　at　him。

〃We're　extraordinarily　happy；〃　she　threw　out。

〃Now　that's　all　I　wanted　to　know！〃　he　exclaimed；　with　a　kind　of
exaggerated　cheery　reproach；　walking　on　with　her　briskly　to　overtake
her　mother。

He　was　not　dining　at　their　inn；　but　he　insisted　on　coming　that
evening　to　their　table　d'hote。　　He　sat　next　Mrs。　Tramore；　and　in　the
evening　he　accompanied　them　gallantly　to　the　opera；　at　a　third…rate
theatre　where　they　were　almost　the　only　ladies　in　the　boxes。　　The
next　day　they　went　together　by　rail　to　the　Charterhouse　of　Pavia；　and
while　he　strolled　with　the　girl；　as　they　waited　for　the　homeward
train；　he　said　to　her　candidly：　　〃Your　mother's　remarkably　pretty。〃
She　remembered　the　words　and　the　feeling　they　gave　her：　　they　were
the　first　note　of　new　era。　　The　feeling　was　somewhat　that　of　an
anxious；　gratified　matron　who　has　〃presented〃　her　child　and　is
thinking　of　the　matrimonial　market。　　Men　might　be　of　no　use；　as　Mrs。
Tramore　said；　yet　it　was　from　this　moment　Rose　dated　the　rosy　dawn　of
her　confidence　that　her　protegee　would　go　off；　and　when　later；　in
crowded　assemblies；　the　phrase；　or　something　like　it　behind　a　hat　or
a　fan；　fell　repeatedly　on　her　anxious　ear；　〃Your　mother　IS　in
beauty！〃　or　〃I've　never　seen　her　look　better！〃　she　had　a　faint　vision
of　the　yellow　sunshine　and　the　afternoon　shadows　on　the　dusty　Italian
platform。

Mrs。　Tramore's　behaviour　at　this　period　was　a　revelation　of　her
native　understanding　of　delicate　situations。　　She　needed　no　account
of　this　one　from　her　daughterit　was　one　of　the　things　for　which　she
had　a　scent；　and　there　was　a　kind　of　loyalty　to　the　rules　of　a　game
in　the　silent　sweetness　with　which　she　smoothed　the　path　of　Bertram
Jay。　　It　was　clear　that　she　was　in　her　element　in　fostering　the
exercise　of　the　affections；　and　if　she　ever　spoke　without　thinking
twice　it　is　probable　that　she　would　have　exclaimed；　with　some　gaiety；
〃Oh；　I　know　all　about　LOVE！〃　　Rose　could　see　that　she　thought　their
companion　would　be　a　help；　in　spite　of　his　being　no　dispenser　of
patronage。　　The　key　to　the　gates　of　fashion　had　not　been　placed　in
his　hand；　and　no　one　had　ever　heard　of　the　ladies　of　his　family；　who
lived　in　some　vague　hollow　of　the　Yorkshire　moors；　but　none　the　less
he　might　administer　a　muscular　push。　　Yes　indeed；　men　in　general　were
broken　reeds；　but　Captain　Jay　was　peculiarly　representative。
Respectability　was　the　woman's　maximum；　as　honour　was　the　man's；　but
this　distinguished　young　soldier　inspired　more　than　one　kind　of
confidence。　　Rose　had　a　great　deal　of　attention　for　the　use　to　which
his　respectability　was　put；　and　there　mingled　with　this　attention
some　amusement　and　much　compassion。　　She　saw　that　after　a　couple　of
days　he　decidedly　liked　her　mother；　and　that　he　was　yet　not　in　the
least　aware　of　it。　　He　took　for　granted　that　he　believed　in　her　but
little；　notwithstanding　which　he　would　have　trusted　her　with　anything
except　Rose　herself。　　His　trusting　her　with　Rose　would　come　very
soon。　　He　never　spoke　to　her　daughter　about　her　qualities　of
character；　but　two　or　three　of　them　（and　indeed　these　were　all　the
poor　lady　had；　and　they　made　the　best　show）　were　what　he　had　in　mind
in　praising　her　appearance。　　When　he　remarked：　　〃What　attention　Mrs。
Tramore　seems　to　attract　everywhere！〃　he　meant：　　〃What　a　beautifully
simple　nature　it　is！〃　and　when　he　said：　　〃There's　something
extraordinarily　harmonious　in　the　colours　she　wears；〃　it　signified：
〃Upon　my　word；　I　never　saw　such　a　sweet　temper　in　my　life！〃　　She　lost
one　of　her　boxes　at　Verona；　and　made　the　prettiest　joke　of　it　to
Captain　Jay。　　When　Rose　saw　this　she　said　to　herself；　〃Next　season　we
shall　have　only　to　choose。〃　　Rose　knew　what　was　in　the　box。

By　the　time　they　reached　Venice　（they　had　stopped　at　half　a　dozen
little　old　romantic　cities　in　the　most　frolicsome　aesthetic　way）　she
liked　their　companion　better　than　she　had　ever　liked　him　before。　　She
did　him　the　justice　to　recognise　that　if　he　was　not　quite　honest　with
himself　he　was　at　least　wholly　honest　with　HER。　　She　reckoned　up
everything　he　had　been　since　he　joined　them；　and　put　upon　it　all　an
interpretation　so　favourable　to　his　devotion　that；　catching　herself
in　the　act　of　glossing　over　one　or　two　episodes　that　had　not　struck
her　at　the　time　as　disinterested　she　exclaimed；　beneath　her　breath；
〃Look　outyou're　falling　in　love！〃　　But　if　he　liked　correctness
wasn't　he　quite　right？　　Could　any　one　possibly　like　it　more　than　SHE
did？　　And　if　he　had　protested　against　her　throwing　in　her　lot　with
her　mother；　this　was　not　because　of　the　benefit　conferred　but　because
of　the　injury　received。　　He　exaggerated　that　injury；　but　this　was　the
privilege　of　a　lover　perfectly　willing　to　be　selfish　on　behalf　of　his
mistress。　　He　might　have　wanted　her　grandmother's　money　for　her；　but
if　he　had　given　her　up　on　first　discovering　that　she　was　throwing
away　her　chance　of　it　（oh；　this　was　HER　doing　too！）　he　had　given　up
her　grandmother　as　much：　　not　keeping　well　with　the　old　woman；　as
some　men　would　have　done；　not　waiting　to　see　how　the　perverse
experiment　would　turn　out　and　appeasing　her；　if　it　should　promise
tolerably；　with　a　view　to　future　operations。　　He　had　had　a　simple…
minded；　evangelical；　lurid　view　of　what　the　girl　he　loved　would　find
herself　in　for。　　She　could　see　this　nowshe　could　see　it　from　his
present　bewilderment　and　mystification；　and　she　liked　him　and　pitied
him；　with　the　kindest　smile；　for　the　original　naivete　as　well　as　for
the　actual　meekness。　　No　wonder　he　hadn't　known　what　she　was　in　for；
since　he　now　didn't　even　know　what　he　was　in　for　himself。　　Were　there
not　moments　when　he　thought　his　companions　almost　unnaturally　good；
almost　suspiciously　safe？　　He　had　lost　all　power　to　verify　that
sketch　of　their　isolation　and　declassement　to　which　she　had　treated
him　on　the　great　square　at　Milan。　　The　last　thing　he　noticed　was　that
they　were　neglected；　and　he　had　never；　for　himself；　had　such　an
impression　of　society。

It　could　scarcely　be　enhanced　even　by　the　apparition　of　a　large；
fair；　hot；　red…haired　young　man；　carrying　a　lady's　fan　in　his　hand；
who　suddenly　stood　before　their　little　party　as；　on　the　third　evening
after　their　arrival　in　Venice；　it　partook　of　ices　at　one　of　the
tables　before　the　celebrated　Cafe　Florian。　　The　lamplit　Venetian　dusk
appeared　to　have　revealed　them　to　this　gentleman　as　he　sat　with　other
friends　at　a　neighbouring　table；　and　he　had　sprung　up；　with
unsophisticated　glee；　to　shake　hands　with　Mrs。　Tramore　and　her
daughter。　　Rose　recalled　him　to　her　mother；　who　looked　at　first　as
though　she　didn't　remember　him　but　presently　bestowed　a　sufficiently
gracious　smile　on　Mr。　Guy　Mangler。　　He　gave　with　youthful　candour　the
history　of　his　movements　and　indicated　the　whereabouts　of　his　family：
he　was　with　his　mother　and　sisters；　they　had　met　the　Bob　Veseys；　who
had　taken　Lord　Whiteroy's　yacht　and　were　going　to　Constantinople。
His　mother　and　the　girls；　poor　things；　were　at　the　Grand　Hotel；　but
he　was　on　the　yacht　with　the　Veseys；　where　they　had　Lord　Whiteroy's
cook。　　Wasn't　the　food　in　Venice　filthy；　and　wouldn't　they　come　and
look　at　the　yacht？　　She　wasn't　very　fast；　but　she　was　awfully　jolly。
His　mother　might　have　come　if　she　would；　but　she　wouldn't　at　first；
and　now；　when　she　wanted　to；　there　were　other　people；　who　naturally
wouldn't　turn　out　for　her。　　Mr。　Mangler　sat　down；　he　alluded　with
artless　resentment　to　the　way；　in　July；　the　door　of　his　friends　had
been　closed　to　him。　　He　was　going　to　Constantinople；　but　he　didn't
careif　THEY　were　going　anywhere；　meanwhile　his　mother　hoped　awfully
they　would　look　her　up。

Lady　Maresfield；　if　she　had　given　her　son　any　such　message；　which
Rose　disbelieved；　entertained　her　hope　in　a　manner　compatible　with
her　sitting　for　half　an　hour；　surrounded　by　her　little　retinue；
without　glancing　in　the　direction　of　Mrs。　Tramore。　　The　girl；
however；　was　aware　that　this　was　not　a　good　enough　instance　of　th