Henry James: Complete Stories 1864-1874 (64 page)

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Authors: Henry James

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Page 376
took but few words, for they agreed easily, that is Agatha always agreed with her brotherthat she must have a change of climate and spend a winter or two in the south of Europe. Mrs. Grice kept her son's birthday all the year and knew an extraordinary number of stitches in knitting. Her friends constantly received from her, by post, offerings of little mats for the table, done up in an envelope, usually without any writing. She could make little mats in forty or fifty different ways. Toward the end of the dinner Macarthy, who up to this moment had been wholly occupied with his companions, began to look around him and to ask questions about the people opposite. Then he leaned forward a little and turned his eye up and down the row of their fellow-tourists on the same side. It was in this way that he perceived the gentleman who had said from the steamer that it was
his
fault that Mrs. Grice and her daughter had gone away for so many hours and who now was seated at some distance below the younger lady. At the moment Macarthy leaned forward this personage happened to be looking toward him, so that he caught his eye. The stranger smiled at him and nodded, as if an acquaintance might be considered to have been established between them, rather to Macarthy's surprise. He drew back and asked his sister who he wasthe fellow who had been with them on the boat.
He's an EnglishmanSir Rufus Chasemore, said the girl. Then she added, Such a nice man.
Oh, I thought he was an American making a fool of himself! Macarthy rejoined.
There's nothing of the fool about him, Agatha declared, laughing; and in a moment she added that Sir Rufus's usual place was beside hers, on her left hand. On this occasion he had moved away.
What do you mean by this occasion? her brother inquired.
Oh, because you are here.
And is he afraid of me?
Yes, I think he is.
He doesn't behave so, anyway.
Oh, he has very good manners, said the girl.
Well, I suppose he's bound to do that. Isn't he a kind of nobleman? Macarthy asked.
Well no, not exactly a nobleman.
 
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Well, some kind of a panjandarum. Hasn't he got one of their titles?
Yes, but not a very high one, Agatha explained. He's only a K.C.B. And also an M.P.
A K.C.B. and an M.P.? What the deuce is all that? And when Agatha had elucidated these mystic signs, as to which the young man's ignorance was partly simulated, he remarked that the Post-office ought to charge her friend double for his lettersfor requiring that amount of stuff in his address. He also said that he owed him one for leading them astray at a time when they were bound to be on hand to receive one who was so dear to them. To this Agatha replied:
Ah, you see, Englishmen are like that. They expect women to be so much honoured by their wanting them to do anything. And it must always be what
they
like, of course.
What the men like? Well, that's all right, only they
mustn't be Englishmen, said Macarthy Grice.
Oh, if one is going to be a slave I don't know that the nationality of one's master matters! his sister exclaimed. After which his mother began to ask him if he had seen anything during the previous months of their Philadelphia cousinssome cousins who wrote their name Gryce and for whom Macarthy had but a small affection.
After dinner the three sat out on the terrace of the hotel, in the delicious warmth of the September night. There were boats on the water, decked with coloured lanterns; music and song proceeded from several of them and every influence was harmonious. Nevertheless by the time Macarthy had finished a cigar it was judged best that the old lady should withdraw herself from the evening air. She went into the salon of the hotel, and her children accompanied her, against her protest, so that she might not be alone. Macarthy liked better to sit with his mother in a drawing-room which the lamps made hot than without her under the stars. At the end of a quarter of an hour he became aware that his sister had disappeared, and as some time elapsed without her returning he asked his mother what had become of her.
I guess she has gone to walk with Sir Rufus, said the old lady, candidly.
Why, you seem to do everything Sir Rufus wants, down
 
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here! her son exclaimed. How did he get such a grip on you?
Well, he has been most kind, Macarthy, Mrs. Grice returned, not appearing to deny that the Englishman's influence was considerable.
I have heard it stated that it's not the custom, down here, for young girls to walk roundat nightwith foreign lords.
Oh, he's not foreign and he's most reliable, said the old lady, very earnestly. It was not in her nature to treat such a question, or indeed any question, as unimportant.
Well, that's all right, her son remarked, in a tone which implied that he was in good-humour and wished not to have his equanimity ruffled. Such accidents with Macarthy Grice were not light things. All the same at the end of five minutes more, as Agatha did not reappear, he expressed the hope that nothing of any kind had sprung up between her and the K.C.B.
Oh, I guess they are just conversing by the lake. I'll go and find them if you like, said Mrs. Grice.
Well, haven't they been conversing by the lakeand on the lakeall day? asked the young man, without taking up her proposal.
Yes, of course we had a great deal of bright talk while we were out. It was quite enough for me to listen to it. But he is most kindand he knows everything, Macarthy.
Well, that's all right! exclaimed the young man again. But a few moments later he returned to the charge and asked his mother if the Englishman were paying any serious attentionshe knew what he meantto Agatha. Italian lakes and summer evenings and glittering titles and all that sort of thingof course you know what they may lead to.
Mrs. Grice looked anxious and veracious, as she always did, and appeared to consider a little. Well, Macarthy, the truth is just this. Your sister is so attractive and so admired that it seems as if wherever she went there was a great interest taken in her. Sir Rufus certainly does like to converse with her, but so have many othersand so would any one in their place. And Agatha is full of conscience. For me that's her highest attraction.
I'm very much pleased with hershe's a lovely creature, Macarthy remarked.
 
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Well, there's no one whose appreciation could gratify her more than yours. She has praised you up to Sir Rufus, added the old lady, simply.
Dear mother, what has
he
got to do with it? her son demanded, staring. I don't care what Sir Rufus thinks of me.
Fortunately the good lady was left only for a moment confronted with this inquiry, for Agatha now re-entered the room, passing in from the terrace by one of the long windows and accompanied precisely by the gentleman whom her relatives had been discussing. She came toward them smiling and perhaps even blushing a little, but with an air of considerable resolution, and she said to Macarthy, Brother, I want to make you acquainted with a good friend of ours, Sir Rufus Chasemore.
Oh, I asked Miss Grice to be so good. The Englishman laughed, looking easy and genial.
Macarthy got up and extended his hand, with a Very happy to know you, sir, and the two men stood a moment looking at each other while Agatha, beside them, bent her regard upon both. I shall not attempt to translate the reflections which rose in the young lady's mind as she did so, for they were complicated and subtle and it is quite difficult enough to reproduce our own more casual impression of the contrast between her companions. This contrast was extreme and complete, and it was not weakened by the fact that both the men had the signs of character and ability. The American was thin, dry, fine, with something in his face which seemed to say that there was more in him of the spirit than of the letter. He looked unfinished and yet somehow he looked mature, though he was not advanced in life. The Englishman had more detail about him, something stippled and retouched, an air of having been more artfully fashioned, in conformity with traditions and models. He wore old clothes which looked new, while his transatlantic brother wore new clothes which looked old. He thought he had never heard the American tone so marked as on the lips of Mr. Macarthy Grice, who on his side found in the accent of his sister's friend a strange, exaggerated, even affected variation of the tongue in which he supposed himself to have been brought up. In general he was much irritated by the tricks which the English played with the English language, deprecating especially their use of familiar slang.
 
Page 380
Miss Grice tells me that you have just crossed the ditch, but I'm afraid you are not going to stay with us long, Sir Rufus remarked, with much pleasantness.
Well, no, I shall return as soon as I have transacted my business, Macarthy replied. That's all I came for.
You don't do us justice; you ought to follow the example of your mother and sister and take a look round, Sir Rufus went on, with another laugh. He was evidently of a mirthful nature.
Oh, I have been here before; I've seen the principal curiosities.
He has seen everything thoroughly, Mrs. Grice murmured over her crotchet.
Ah, I daresay you have seen much more than we poor natives. And your own country is so interesting. I have an immense desire to see that.
Well, it certainly repays observation, said Macarthy Grice.
You wouldn't like it at all; you would find it awful, his sister remarked, sportively, to Sir Rufus.
Gracious, daughter! the old lady exclaimed, trying to catch Agatha's eye.
That's what she's always telling me, as if she were trying to keep me from going. I don't know what she has been doing over there that she wants to prevent me from finding out. Sir Rufus's eyes, while he made this observation, rested on the young lady in the most respectful yet at the same time the most complacent manner.
She smiled back at him and said with a laugh still clearer than his own, I know the kind of people who will like America and the kind of people who won't.
Do you know the kind who will like
you
and the kind who won't? Sir Rufus Chasemore inquired.
I don't know that in some cases it particularly matters what people like, Macarthy interposed, with a certain severity.
Well, I must say I like people to like my country, said Agatha.
You certainly take the best way to make them, Miss Grice! Sir Rufus exclaimed.
Do you mean by dissuading them from visiting it, sir? Macarthy asked.
 
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Oh dear no; by being so charming a representative of it. But I shall most positively go on the first opportunity.
I hope it won't be while we are on this side, said Mrs. Grice, very civilly.
You will need us over there to explain everything, her daughter added.
The Englishman looked at her a moment with his glass in his eye. I shall certainly pretend to be very stupid. Then he went on, addressing himself to Macarthy: I have an idea that you have some rocks ahead, but that doesn't diminishin fact it increasesmy curiosity to see the country.
Oh, I suspect we'll scratch along all right, Macarthy replied, with rather a grim smile, in a tone which conveyed that the success of American institutions might not altogether depend on Sir Rufus's judgment of them. He was on the point of expressing his belief, further, that there were European countries which would be glad enough to exchange their rocks for those of the United States; but he kept back this reflection, as it might appear too pointed and he wished not to be rude to a man who seemed on such sociable terms with his mother and sister. In the course of a quarter of an hour the ladies took their departure for the upper regions and Macarthy Grice went off with them. The Englishman looked for him again however, as something had been said about their smoking a cigar together before they went to bed; but he never turned up, so that Sir Rufus puffed his own weed in solitude, strolling up and down the terrace without mingling with the groups that remained and looking much at the starlit lake and mountains.
II
The next morning after breakfast Mrs. Grice had a conversation with her son in her own room. Agatha had not yet appeared, and she explained that the girl was sleeping late, having been much fatigued by her excursion the day before as well as by the excitement of her brother's arrival. Macarthy thought it a little singular that she should bear her fatigue so much less well than her mother, but he understood everything in a moment, as soon as the old lady drew him toward her

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