a room with a view- 第10部分

thinking　of　the　Emersons。〃



Miss　Lavish　gave　a　Machiavellian　smile。



〃I　confess　that　in　Italy　my　sympathies　are　not　with　my　own

countrymen。　It　is　the　neglected　Italians　who　attract　me；　and

whose　lives　I　am　going　to　paint　so　far　as　I　can。　For　I　repeat　and

I　insist；　and　I　have　always　held　most　strongly；　that　a　tragedy

such　as　yesterday's　is　not　the　less　tragic　because　it　happened　in

humble　life。〃



There　was　a　fitting　silence　when　Miss　Lavish　had　concluded。　Then

the　cousins　wished　success　to　her　labours；　and　walked　slowly　away

across　the　square。



〃She　is　my　idea　of　a　really　clever　woman；〃　said　Miss　Bartlett。

〃That　last　remark　struck　me　as　so　particularly　true。　It　should　be

a　most　pathetic　novel。〃



Lucy　assented。　At　present　her　great　aim　was　not　to　get　put　into

it。　Her　perceptions　this　morning　were　curiously　keen；　and　she

believed　that　Miss　Lavish　had　her　on　trial　for　an　ingenue。



〃She　is　emancipated；　but　only　in　the　very　best　sense　of　the

word；〃　continued　Miss　Bartlett　slowly。　〃None　but　the　superficial

would　be　shocked　at　her。　We　had　a　long　talk　yesterday。　She

believes　in　justice　and　truth　and　human　interest。　She　told　me

also　that　she　has　a　high　opinion　of　the　destiny　of　womanMr。

Eager！　Why；　how　nice！　What　a　pleasant　surprise！〃



〃Ah；　not　for　me；〃　said　the　chaplain　blandly；　〃for　I　have　been

watching　you　and　Miss　Honeychurch　for　quite　a　little　time。〃



〃We　were　chatting　to　Miss　Lavish。〃



His　brow　contracted。



〃So　I　saw。　Were　you　indeed？　Andate　via！　sono　occupato！〃　The

last　remark　was　made　to　a　vender　of　panoramic　photographs　who　was

approaching　with　a　courteous　smile。　〃I　am　about　to　venture　a

suggestion。　Would　you　and　Miss　Honeychurch　be　disposed　to　join　me

in　a　drive　some　day　this　weeka　drive　in　the　hills？　We　might　go

up　by　Fiesole　and　back　by　Settignano。　There　is　a　point　on

that　road　where　we　could　get　down　and　have　an　hour's　ramble　on

the　hillside。　The　view　thence　of　Florence　is　most　beautifulfar

better　than　the　hackneyed　view　of　Fiesole。　It　is　the　view　that

Alessio　Baldovinetti　is　fond　of　introducing　into　his　pictures。

That　man　had　a　decided　feeling　for　landscape。　Decidedly。　But　who

looks　at　it　to…day？　Ah；　the　world　is　too　much　for　us。〃



Miss　Bartlett　had　not　heard　of　Alessio　Baldovinetti；　but　she　knew

that　Mr。　Eager　was　no　commonplace　chaplain。　He　was　a　member　of

the　residential　colony　who　had　made　Florence　their　home。　He　knew

the　people　who　never　walked　about　with　Baedekers；　who　had　learnt

to　take　a　siesta　after　lunch；　who　took　drives　the　pension

tourists　had　never　heard　of；　and　saw　by　private　influence

galleries　which　were　closed　to　them。　Living　in　delicate

seclusion；　some　in　furnished　flats；　others　in　Renaissance　villas

on　Fiesole's　slope；　they　read；　wrote；　studied；　and　exchanged

ideas；　thus　attaining　to　that　intimate　knowledge；　or　rather

perception；　of　Florence　which　is　denied　to　all　who　carry　in　their

pockets　the　coupons　of　Cook。



Therefore　an　invitation　from　the　chaplain　was　something　to　be

proud　of。　Between　the　two　sections　of　his　flock　he　was　often　the

only　link；　and　it　was　his　avowed　custom　to　select　those　of　his

migratory　sheep　who　seemed　worthy；　and　give　them　a　few　hours　in

the　pastures　of　the　permanent。　Tea　at　a　Renaissance　villa？

Nothing　had　been　said　about　it　yet。　But　if　it　did　come　to　that

how　Lucy　would　enjoy　it！



A　few　days　ago　and　Lucy　would　have　felt　the　same。　But　the　joys　of

life　were　grouping　themselves　anew。　A　drive　in　the　hills　with　Mr。

Eager　and　Miss　Bartletteven　if　culminating　in　a　residential

tea…partywas　no　longer　the　greatest　of　them。　She　echoed　the

raptures　of　Charlotte　somewhat　faintly。　Only　when　she　heard　that

Mr。　Beebe　was　also　coming　did　her　thanks　become　more　sincere。



〃So　we　shall　be　a　partie　carree；〃　said　the　chaplain。　〃In　these

days　of　toil　and　tumult　one　has　great　needs　of　the　country　and

its　message　of　purity。　Andate　via！　andate　presto；　presto！　Ah；

the　town！　Beautiful　as　it　is；　it　is　the　town。〃



They　assented。



〃This　very　squareso　I　am　toldwitnessed　yesterday　the　most

sordid　of　tragedies。　To　one　who　loves　the　Florence　of　Dante　and

Savonarola　there　is　something　portentous　in　such　desecration

portentous　and　humiliating。〃



〃Humiliating　indeed；〃　said　Miss　Bartlett。　〃Miss　Honeychurch

happened　to　be　passing　through　as　it　happened。　She　can　hardly

bear　to　speak　of　it。〃　She　glanced　at　Lucy　proudly。



〃And　how　came　we　to　have　you　here？〃　asked　the　chaplain

paternally。



Miss　Bartlett's　recent　liberalism　oozed　away　at　the　question。

〃Do　not　blame　her；　please；　Mr。　Eager。　The　fault　is　mine：　I　left

her　unchaperoned。〃



〃So　you　were　here　alone；　Miss　Honeychurch？〃　His　voice　suggested

sympathetic　reproof　but　at　the　same　time　indicated　that　a　few

harrowing　details　would　not　be　unacceptable。　His　dark；　handsome

face　drooped　mournfully　towards　her　to　catch　her　reply。



〃Practically。〃



〃One　of　our　pension　acquaintances　kindly　brought　her　home；〃　said

Miss　Bartlett；　adroitly　concealing　the　sex　of　the　preserver。



〃For　her　also　it　must　have　been　a　terrible　experience。　I　trust

that　neither　of　you　was　at　allthat　it　was　not　in　your　immediate

proximity？〃



Of　the　many　things　Lucy　was　noticing　to…day；　not　the　least

remarkable　was　this：　the　ghoulish　fashion　in　which　respectable

people　will　nibble　after　blood。　George　Emerson　had　kept　the

subject　strangely　pure。



〃He　died　by　the　fountain；　I　believe；〃　was　her　reply。



〃And　you　and　your　friend〃



〃Were　over　at　the　Loggia。〃



〃That　must　have　saved　you　much。　You　have　not；　of　course；　seen　the

disgraceful　illustrations　which　the　gutter　Press　This　man　is

a　public　nuisance；　he　knows　that　I　am　a　resident　perfectly　well；

and　yet　he　goes　on　worrying　me　to　buy　his　vulgar　views。〃



Surely　the　vendor　of　photographs　was　in　league　with　Lucyin　the

eternal　league　of　Italy　with　youth。　He　had　suddenly　extended　his

book　before　Miss　Bartlett　and　Mr。　Eager；　binding　their　hands

together　by　a　long　glossy　ribbon　of　churches；　pictures；　and

views。



〃This　is　too　much！〃　cried　the　chaplain；　striking　petulantly　at

one　of　Fra　Angelico's　angels。　She　tore。　A　shrill　cry　rose　from

the　vendor。　The　book　it　seemed；　was　more　valuable　than　one　would

have　supposed。



〃Willingly　would　I　purchase〃　began　Miss　Bartlett。



〃Ignore　him；〃　said　Mr。　Eager　sharply；　and　they　all　walked　rapidly

away　from　the　square。



But　an　Italian　can　never　be　ignored；　least　of　all　when　he　has　a

grievance。　His　mysterious　persecution　of　Mr。　Eager　became

relentless；　the　air　rang　with　his　threats　and　lamentations。　He

appealed　to　Lucy；　would　not　she　intercede？　He　was　poorhe

sheltered　a　familythe　tax　on　bread。　He　waited；　he　gibbered；　he

was　recompensed；　he　was　dissatisfied；　he　did　not　leave　them　until

he　had　swept　their　minds　clean　of　all　thoughts　whether　pleasant

or　unpleasant。



Shopping　was　the　topic　that　now　ensued。　Under　the　chaplain's

guidance　they　selected　many　hideous　presents　and　mementoes

florid　little　picture…frames　that　seemed　fashioned　in　gilded

pastry；　other　little　frames；　more　severe；　that　stood　on　little

easels；　and　were　carven　out　of　oak；　a　blotting　book　of　vellum；

a　Dante　of　the　same　material；　cheap　mosaic　brooches；　which　the

maids；　next　Christmas；　would　never　tell　from　real；　pins；　pots；

heraldic　saucers；　brown　art…photographs；　Eros　and　Psyche　in

alabaster；　St。　Peter　to　matchall　of　which　would　have　cost　less

in　London。



This　successful　morning　left　no　pleasant　impressions　on　Lucy。　She

had　been　a　little　frightened；　both　by　Miss　Lavish　and　by　Mr。

Eager；　she　knew　not　why。　And　as　they　frightened　her；　she　had；

strangely　enough；　ceased　to　respect　them。　She　doubted　that　Miss

Lavish　was　a　great　artist。　She　doubted　that　Mr。　Eager　was　as　full

of　spirituality　and　culture　as　she　had　been　led　to　suppose。　They

were　tried　by　some　new　test；　and　they　were　found　wanting。　As　for

Charlotteas　for　Charlotte　she　was　exactly　the　same。　It　might　be

possible　to　be　nice　to　her；　it　was　impossible　to　love　her。



〃The　son　of　a　labourer；　I　happen　to　know　it　for　a　fact。　A

mechanic　of　some　sort　himself　when　he　was　young；　then　he　took　to

writing　for　the　Socialistic　Press。　I　came　across　him　at　Brixton。〃



They　were　talking　about　the　Emersons。



〃How　wonderfully　people　rise　in　these　days！〃　sighed　Miss

Bartlett；　fingering　a　model　of　the　leaning　Tower　of　Pisa。



〃Generally；〃　replied　Mr。　Eager；　〃one　has　only　sympathy　for　their

success。　The　desire　for　education　and　for　social　advancein

these　things　there　is　something　not　wholly　vile。　There　are　some

working　men　whom　one　would　be　very　willing　to　see　out　here　in

Florencelittle　as　they　would　make　of　it。〃



〃Is　he　a　journalist　now？〃　Miss　Bartlett　asked；　〃He　is　not；　he

made　an　advantageous　marriage。〃



He　uttered　this　remark　with　a　voice　full　of　meaning；　and　ended

with　a　sigh。



〃Oh；　so　he　has　a　wife。〃



〃Dead；　Miss　Bartlett；　dead。　I　wonderyes　I　wonder　how　he　has　the

effrontery　to　look　me　in　the　face；　to　dare　to　claim　acquaintance

with　me。　He　was　in　my　London　parish　long　ago。　The　other　day　in

Santa　Croce；　when　he　was　with　Miss　Honeychurch；　I　snubbed　him。

Let　him　beware　that　he　does　not　get　more　than　a　snub。〃



〃What？〃　cried　Lucy；　flushing。



〃Exposure！〃　hissed　Mr。　Eager。



He　tried　to　change　the　subject；　but　in　scoring　a　dramatic　point

he　had　interested　his　audience　more　than　he　had　intended。　Miss

Bartlett　was　full　of　very　natural　curiosity。　Lucy；　though　she

wished　never　to　see　the　Emersons　again；　was　not　disposed　to

condemn　them　on　a　single　word。



〃Do　you　mean；〃　she　asked；　〃that　he　is　an　irreligious　man？　We　know

that　already。〃



〃Lucy；　dear〃　said　Miss　Bartlett；　gently　reproving　her　cousin's

penetration。



〃I　should　be　astonished　if　you　knew　all。　The　boyan　innocent

child　at　the　timeI　will　exclude。　God　knows　what　his　education

and　his　inherited　qualities　may　have　made　him。〃



〃Perhaps；〃　said　Miss　Bartle