Henry James: Complete Stories 1864-1874 (21 page)

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Authors: Henry James

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Page 115
ities than upon general society. He would have modified this judgment of his kinswoman, with whom he had dined but once, if he could have guessed with what anxiety she watched for the symptoms of that salutary change which she expected to see wrought in him by the fascinating independence of Rachel Torrance. If she had dared, she would have prompted the girl a little; she would have confided to her this secret desire. But the matter was delicate; and Miss Daintry was shrewd enough to see that everything must be spontaneous. When she paused at the threshold of Mrs. Mesh's drawing-room, looking from one of her young companions to the other, she felt a slight pang, for she feared they were getting on too well. Rachel was pouring sweet music into the young man's ears, and turning to look at him over her shoulder while she played; and he, with his head tipped back and his eyes on the ceiling, hummed an accompaniment which occasionally became an articulate remark. Harmonious intimacy was stamped upon the scene, and poor Miss Daintry was not struck with its being in any degree salutary. She was not reassured when, after ten minutes, Florimond took his departure; she could see that he was irritated by the presence of a third person; and this was a proof that Rachel had not yet begun to do her duty by him. It is possible that when the two ladies were left together, her disappointment would have led her to betray her views, had not Rachel almost immediately said to her: My dear cousin, I am so glad you have come; I might not have seen you again. I go away in three days.
Go away? Where do you go to?
Back to Brooklyn, said Rachel, smiling sweetly.
Why on earthI thought you had come here to stay for six months?
Oh, you know, six months would be a terrible visit for these good people; and of course no time was fixed. That would have been very absurd. I have been here an immense time already. It was to be as things should go.
And haven't they gone well?
Oh yes, they have gone beautifully.
Then why in the world do you leave?
Well, you know, I have duties at home. My mother coughs a good deal, and they write me dismal letters.
 
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They are ridiculous, selfish people. You are going home because your mother coughs? I don't believe a word of it! Miss Daintry cried. You have some other reason. Something has happened here; it has become disagreeable. Be so good as to tell me the whole story.
Rachel answered that there was not any story to tell, and that her reason consisted entirely of conscientious scruples as to absenting herself so long from her domestic circle. Miss Daintry esteemed conscientious scruples when they were well placed, but she thought poorly on the present occasion of those of Mrs. Mesh's visitor; they interfered so much with her own sense of fitness. Has Florimond been making love to you? she suddenly inquired. You mustn't mind thatbeyond boxing his ears.
Her question appeared to amuse Miss Torrance exceedingly; and the girl, a little inarticulate with her mirth, answered very positively that the young man had done her no such honour.
I am very sorry to hear it, said Lucretia; I was in hopes he would give you a chance to take him down. He needs it very much. He's dreadfully puffed up.
He's an amusing little man!
Miss Daintry put on her nippers. Don't tell me it's you that are in love!
Oh, dear no! I like big, serious men; not small Frenchified gentlemen, like Florimond. Excuse me if he's your nephew, but you began it. Though I am fond of art, the girl added, I don't think I am fond of artists.
Do you call Florimond an artist?
Rachel Torrance hesitated a little, smiling. Yes, when he poses for Pauline Mesh.
This rejoinder for a moment left Miss Daintry in visible perplexity; then a sudden light seemed to come to her. She flushed a little; what she found was more than she was looking for. She thought of many things quickly, and among others she thought that she had accomplished rather more than she intended. Have you quarrelled with Pauline? she said presently.
No, but she is tired of me.
 
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Everything has not gone well, then, and you
have
another reason for going home than your mother's cough?
Yes, if you must know, Pauline wants me to go. I didn't feel free to tell you that; but since you guess it said Rachel, with her rancourless smile.
Has she asked you to decamp?
Oh, dear no! for what do you take us? But she absents herself from the house; she stays away all day. I have to play to Florimond to console him.
So you
have
been fighting about him? Miss Daintry remarked, perversely.
Ah, my dear cousin, what have you got in your head? Fighting about sixpence! if you knew how Florimond bores me! I play to him to keep him silent. I have heard everything he has to say, fifty times over!
Miss Daintry snak back in her chair; she was completely out of her reckoning. I think he might have made love to you a little! she exclaimed, incoherently.
So do I! but he didn'tnot a crumb. He is afraid of methank heaven!
It isn't for you he comes, then? Miss Daintry appeared to cling to her theory.
No, my dear cousin, it isn't!
Just now, as he sat there, one could easily have supposed it. He didn't at all like my interruption.
That was because he was waiting for Pauline to come in. He will wait that way an hour. You may imagine whether he likes me for boring her so that, as I tell you, she can't stay in the house. I am out myself as much as possible. But there are days when I drop with fatigue; then I must rest. I can assure you that it's fortunate that I go so soon.
Is Pauline in love with him? Miss Daintry asked, gravely.
Not a grain. She is the best little woman in the world.
Except for being a goose. Why, then, does she object to your companyafter being so enchanted with you?
Because even the best little woman in the world must object to something. She has everything in life, and nothing to complain of. Her children sleep all day, and her cook is a jewel. Her husband adores her, and she is perfectly satisfied
 
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with Mr. Mesh. I act on her nerves, and I think she believes I regard her as rather silly to care so much for Florimond. Excuse me again!
You contradict yourself. She
does
care for him, then?
Oh, as she would care for a new
coupè!
She likes to have a young man of her ownfresh from Parisquite to herself. She has everything elsewhy shouldn't she have that? She thinks your nephew very original, and he thinks her what she isthe prettiest woman in Boston. They have an idea that they are making a celebrated friendshiplike Horace Walpole and Madame du Deffand. They sit there face to facethey are as innocent as the shovel and tongs. But, all the same, I am in the way, and Pauline is provoked that I am not jealous.
Miss Daintry got up with energy. She's a vain, hollow, silly little creature, and you are quite right to go away; you are worthy of better company. Only you will not go back to Brooklyn, in spite of your mother's cough; you will come straight to Mount Vernon Place.
Rachel hesitated to agree to this. She appeared to think it was her duty to quit Boston altogether; and she gave as a reason that she had already refused other invitations. But Miss Daintry had a better reason than thisa reason that glowed in her indignant breast. It was she who had been the cause of the girl's being drawn into this sorry adventure; it was she who should charge herself with the reparation. The conversation I have related took place on a Tuesday; and it was settled that on the Friday Miss Torrance should take up her abode for the rest of the winter under her Cousin Lucretia's roof. This lady left the house without having seen Mrs. Mesh.
On Thursday she had a visit from her sister-in-law, the motive of which was not long in appearing. All winter Mrs. Daintry had managed to keep silent on the subject of her doubts and fears. Discretion and dignity recommended this course; and the topic was a painful one to discuss with Lucretia, for the bruises of their primary interview still occasionally throbbed. But at the first sign of alleviation the excellent woman overflowed, and she lost no time in announcing to Lucretia, as a heaven-sent piece of news, that Rachel had been called away by the illness of poor Mrs. Torrance and was to
 
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leave Boston from one day to the other. Florimond had given her this information the evening before, and it had made her so happy that she couldn't help coming to let Lucretia know that they were safe. Lucretia listened to her announcement in silence, fixing her eyes on her sister-in-law with an expression that the latter thought singular; but when Mrs. Daintry, expanding still further, went on to say that she had spent a winter of misery, that the harm the two together (she and Lucretia) might have done was never out of her mind, for Florimond's assiduity in Arlington Street had become notorious, and she had been told that the most cruel things were saidwhen Mrs. Daintry, expressing herself to this effect, added that from the present moment she breathed, the danger was over, the sky was clear, and her conscience might take a holidayher hostess broke into the most prolonged, the most characteristic and most bewildering fit of laughter in which she had ever known her to indulge. They were safe, Mrs. Daintry had said? For Lucretia this was true, now, of herself, at least; she was secure from the dangers of her irritation; her sense of the whole affair had turned to hilarious music. The contrast that rose before her between her visitor's anxieties and the real position of the parties, her quick vision of poor Susan's dismay in case
that
reality should meet her eyes, among the fragments of her squandered scruplesthese things smote the chords of mirth in Miss Daintry's spirit, and seemed to her in their high comicality to offer a sufficient reason for everything that had happened. The picture of her sister-in-law sitting all winter with her hands clasped and her eyes fixed on the wrong object was an image that would abide with her always; and it would render her an inestimable serviceit would cure her of the tendency to worry. As may be imagined, it was eminently open to Mrs. Daintry to ask her what on earth she was laughing at; and there was a colour in the cheek of Florimond's mother that brought her back to propriety. She suddenly kissed this lady very tenderlyto the latter's great surprise, there having been no kissing since her visit in Novemberand told her that she would reveal to her some day, later, the cause of so much merriment. She added that Miss Torrance was leaving Arlington Street, yes; but only to go as far as Mount Vernon Place. She was engaged to spend
 
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three months in that very house. Mrs. Daintry's countenance at this fell several inches, and her joy appeared completely to desert her. She gave her sister-in-law a glance of ineffable reproach, and in a moment she exclaimed: Then nothing is gained! it will all go on here!
Nothing will go on here. If you mean that Florimond will pursue the young lady into this mountain fastness, you may simply be quiet. He is not fond enough of me to wear out my threshold.
Are you very sure? Mrs. Daintry murmured, dubiously.
I know what I say. Hasn't he told you he hates me?
Mrs. Daintry coloured again, and hesitated. I don't know how you think we talk, she said.
Well, he does, and he will leave us alone.
Mrs. Daintry sprang up with an elasticity that was comical. That's all I ask! she exclaimed.
I believe you hate me too! Lucretia said, laughing; but at any risk she kissed her sister-in-law again before they separated.
Three weeks later Mrs. Daintry paid her another visit; and this time she looked very serious. It's very strange. I don't know what to think. But perhaps you know it already? This was her
entrèe en matière,
as the French say. Rachel's leaving Arlington Street has made no difference. He goes there as much as ever. I see no change at all. Lucretia, I have not the peace that I thought had come, said poor Mrs. Daintry, whose voice had failed, below her breath.
Do you mean that he goes to see Pauline Mesh?
I am afraid so, every day.
Well, my dear, what's the harm? Miss Daintry asked. He can't hurt
her
by not marrying her.
Mrs. Daintry stared; she was amazed at her sister-in-law's tone. But it makes one suppose that all winter, for so many weeks, it has been for
her
that he has gone! And the image of the
tête-à-tête
in which she had found them immersed that day, rose again before her; she could interpret it now.
You wanted some one; why may not Pauline have served?
Mrs. Daintry was silent, with the same expanded eyes. Lucretia, it is not right!
My dear Susan, you are touching, Lucretia said.

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