Henry James: The Portrait of a Lady, The Bostonians, The Tragic Muse & Daisy Miller (4 Books in One Edition). Henry Foss James

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СКАЧАТЬ till Mrs. Touchett came into the drawing-room before the mid-day breakfast, and then she began. “Aunt Lydia, I’ve something to tell you.”

      Mrs. Touchett gave a little jump and looked at her almost fiercely. “You needn’t tell me; I know what it is.”

      “I don’t know how you know.”

      “The same way that I know when the window’s open — by feeling a draught. You’re going to marry that man.”

      “What man do you mean?” Isabel enquired with great dignity.

      “Madame Merle’s friend — Mr. Osmond.”

      “I don’t know why you call him Madame Merle’s friend. Is that the principal thing he’s known by?”

      “If he’s not her friend he ought to be — after what she has done for him!” cried Mrs. Touchett. “I shouldn’t have expected it of her; I’m disappointed.”

      “If you mean that Madame Merle has had anything to do with my engagement you’re greatly mistaken,” Isabel declared with a sort of ardent coldness.

      “You mean that your attractions were sufficient, without the gentleman’s having had to be lashed up? You’re quite right. They’re immense, your attractions, and he would never have presumed to think of you if she hadn’t put him up to it. He has a very good opinion of himself, but he was not a man to take trouble. Madame Merle took the trouble for him.”

      “He has taken a great deal for himself!” cried Isabel with a voluntary laugh.

      Mrs. Touchett gave a sharp nod. “I think he must, after all, to have made you like him so much.”

      “I thought he even pleased YOU.”

      “He did, at one time; and that’s why I’m angry with him.”

      “Be angry with me, not with him,” said the girl.

      “Oh, I’m always angry with you; that’s no satisfaction! Was it for this that you refused Lord Warburton?”

      “Please don’t go back to that. Why shouldn’t I like Mr. Osmond, since others have done so?”

      “Others, at their wildest moments, never wanted to marry him. There’s nothing OF him,” Mrs. Touchett explained.

      “Then he can’t hurt me,” said Isabel.

      “Do you think you’re going to be happy? No one’s happy, in such doings, you should know.”

      “I shall set the fashion then. What does one marry for?”

      “What YOU will marry for, heaven only knows. People usually marry as they go into partnership — to set up a house. But in your partnership you’ll bring everything.”

      “Is it that Mr. Osmond isn’t rich? Is that what you’re talking about?” Isabel asked.

      “He has no money; he has no name; he has no importance. I value such things and I have the courage to say it; I think they’re very precious. Many other people think the same, and they show it. But they give some other reason.”

      Isabel hesitated a little. “I think I value everything that’s valuable. I care very much for money, and that’s why I wish Mr. Osmond to have a little.”

      “Give it to him then; but marry some one else.”

      “His name’s good enough for me,” the girl went on. “It’s a very pretty name. Have I such a fine one myself?”

      “All the more reason you should improve on it. There are only a dozen American names. Do you marry him out of charity?”

      “It was my duty to tell you, Aunt Lydia, but I don’t think it’s my duty to explain to you. Even if it were I shouldn’t be able. So please don’t remonstrate; in talking about it you have me at a disadvantage. I can’t talk about it.”

      “I don’t remonstrate, I simply answer you: I must give some sign of intelligence. I saw it coming, and I said nothing. I never meddle.”

      “You never do, and I’m greatly obliged to you. You’ve been very considerate.”

      “It was not considerate — it was convenient,” said Mrs. Touchett. “But I shall talk to Madame Merle.”

      “I don’t see why you keep bringing her in. She has been a very good friend to me.”

      “Possibly; but she has been a poor one to me.”

      “What has she done to you?”

      “She has deceived me. She had as good as promised me to prevent your engagement.”

      “She couldn’t have prevented it.”

      “She can do anything; that’s what I’ve always liked her for. I knew she could play any part; but I understood that she played them one by one. I didn’t understand that she would play two at the same time.”

      “I don’t know what part she may have played to you,” Isabel said; “that’s between yourselves. To me she has been honest and kind and devoted.”

      “Devoted, of course; she wished you to marry her candidate. She told me she was watching you only in order to interpose.”

      “She said that to please you,” the girl answered; conscious, however, of the inadequacy of the explanation.

      “To please me by deceiving me? She knows me better. Am I pleased to-day?”

      “I don’t think you’re ever much pleased,” Isabel was obliged to reply. “If Madame Merle knew you would learn the truth what had she to gain by insincerity?”

      “She gained time, as you see. While I waited for her to interfere you were marching away, and she was really beating the drum.”

      “That’s very well. But by your own admission you saw I was marching, and even if she had given the alarm you wouldn’t have tried to stop me.”

      “No, but some one else would.”

      “Whom do you mean?” Isabel asked, looking very hard at her aunt. Mrs. Touchett’s little bright eyes, active as they usually were, sustained her gaze rather than returned it. “Would you have listened to Ralph?”

      “Not if he had abused Mr. Osmond.”

      “Ralph doesn’t abuse people; you know that perfectly. He cares very much for you.”

      “I know he does,” said Isabel; “and I shall feel the value of it now, for he knows that whatever I do I do with reason.”

      “He never believed you would do this. I told him you were capable of it, and he argued the other way.”

      “He did it for the sake of argument,” the girl smiled. “You don’t accuse him of having deceived you; why should you accuse Madame Merle?”

      “He СКАЧАТЬ