The Golden Bowl

positive relief to him. “Yes, there’ll

“Do you mean

rough my h

poke it had an effect of abruptness

ng, but in rather confessed ignorance of the mysteries of mimicry. Barely taller than his daughter, he pressed at no point on the presumed propriety of his greater stoutness. He had lost early in life much of his crisp, closely-curling hair, the fineness of which was repeated in a small neat beard, too compact to be called “full,” though worn equally, as for a mark where other marks were wanting, on lip and cheek and chin. His neat, colourless face, provided with the merely indispensable features, suggested immediately, for a description, that it was CLEAR, and in this manner somewhat resembled a small decent room, clean-swept and unencumbered with furniture, but drawing a particular advantage, as might presently be noted, from the outlook of a pair of ample and uncurtained windows. There was something in Adam Verver’s eyes that both admitted the morning and the evening in unusual quantities and gave the modest area the outward extension of a view that was “big” even when restricted to stars. Deeply and changeably blue, though not romantically large, they were yet youthfully, almost strangely beautiful, with their ambiguity of your scarce knowing if they most car

r. “What I feel is that there is somehow something that used to be right and that I’ve made wrong. It used to be right that you hadn’t married, and that you didn’t see

p it down?” Mr. Verver’s t

, by MY move, all the

sat near him, pass his arm about her. “I guess I don’t feel

me just to have given you a push and left you so. If I’ve

,” he indulgently a

ve always thought. What I mean,” she went on after a moment, “is that it strikes me that

rnative

what you’ve lost — without a

at HAVE

ght say, in the market. It was as if you couldn’t be in the market when you were married to me. Or rather as if I kept people off, innocently, by being married to you. Now that I’m

son,” he mildly inquired,

of a fight. You ask me what you’ve lost,” Maggie continued to explain. “The not having to take the trouble and to make the fight — t

tly said, “that I had better get marri

s so far successful as to draw from her gravity a short, light laugh. “Well, what I don’t want you to feel

over. “You don’t go so far as to wi

ly wish that if you ever SHOULD like anybody, you may never doubt of my feeling

templative way, “that it will be

ll leave you all the good o

e, therefore, we’ll call it square. I’ll let you know in time if I see a prospect of your having to take it up. But am I to understand meanwhile,” he soon went on, “that, re

ing it. “Why, if you like it, y

is,” he amended, “unless I feel surer I do than appears very probable. I don’t want to have to THINK I like it in a case when I really shan’t. I’ve

ously to dream — that you may be. What does that show, after all,” she asked, “but that you

g. “But it shows also, I think, that charming women are, in

er of which, however, she passed quickly from the general

en they cast a spell it comes to the s

all. But if you talk of the life we lead, much of it is, altogether, I’m bound to say, too funny. The thing is,” Maggie developed under this impression, “that I don’t think we lead, as re

these persons — considered a little.

ch they quite feel together. SHE thinks,

ed it vaguely. “And

, to see things exactly as we wish. Fanny herself,” Maggie pursued, “thinks he’s magnificent. Magnificent, I mean, for

n if he doesn’t miss it h

be a Hero — he WILL be one if it’s ever necessary. But it will be about something better than our dreariness. I know,” the Princess declared, “where he’s magnificent.” And she rested a minute o

ral obligation?” A

for the a

e? For Fa

hing more to bring out, which she finally produced. “For yours in particular, say — if you go into the question.” She even br

“Don’t you think a good deal is done wh

f that!” And then to explain: “That’s good, and it’s natural

erver pleaded. “Great if we

got something in your mind.” It had come to him within the minute that from the beginning of their session there she had been keeping something back, and that an impression of this had more than once, in spite of his general theoretic respect for her

something up

sense of being in a letter I got this morning. All day, yes — it HAS been in my mind. I’ve been asking myself

iful consideration of her manner made i

ind her

e laughed. It depe

ake this particular person but as a worry the more. Whether, that

shake to his foot. How far wo

“you know how far, in a gener

e? Is SHE

y, that she’d like to if w

Then, as everything appeared to have come, his expression had a

but it was now another light

ask

pose it

should a

also its own effect. Maggie wondered an instant; after which, as with a flu

ea — the chance of his words had prompte

ite beautiful of you. That is, of cours

the question of sincerity came in. This virtue, between him and his daughter’s friend, had surel

from you. From the moment you’re NOT— the le

f Charlotte, nor so much as heard her name pronounced, for a very lo

know. She’s always with people, poor dear — she rather has to be; even w

ikes us. And if I wasn’t afraid of spoiling it for you,” Maggie added, “

that spoil

alking about? It costs you so much to be liked.

nly grown out of recognition. “But Charlotte — o

er ‘keep,’”

clear, wished to be thoroughly conscientious. “Well, it may not be quite all. If I

n that if it’s but a dif

you acknowledge a possible difference for the better we’re not, after all, so tremendously right

” her father asked with su

well, had a remarkable reply.

opening he wished but the more to m

ncess was almost solemn.

eat

n character, in spi

choed. “What has s

made it too difficult for many other girls. She hasn’t a creature in the world really — that is nearly — belonging to her. Only acquaintances w

some purpose. “If we get her here to imp

ld friends — we do her good too. I should always, even at the wor

at always

kes a liberty with you than if she trembled for her life. And then she’s INTERESTING— which plenty of other people with plenty of other merits never are a bit.” In which fine fl

!” her father v

,” she insisted. “I’m

e not as good as Charlotte Stant,”

fe before Maggie addressed her father at this moment with a shade of the absolute in her tone. She had never come so near telling him what he should take it from her to believe. “She has only twopence in the world — but

hild had an effect upon him that Mr. Verver really felt as

n’t we alwa

submitted, “that we had alre

terval, I’m going to like her better than ever. I’ve lived more myself, I’m older, and one judges better. Yes, I’m going

came back to Mr. Verver more —“the one o

that she for the moment scarce heard him. She was lost in the case she made out

emely — to marry; and nothing in general is more ridiculous, even when

ver’s attention. “

es where she woul

has not b

girls who are poor than in which it does come to them. Especially,”

“Unless you mean,” he suggested, “that when the girls are American t

ned, “not to be ridiculous — unless in a very different way. I might easily be ridiculous, I suppose, by behaving as if I thought I had done a great thing. Charlotte, at any rate, has done nothing, and anyone can see it, and see also that

her story to interest him; though the sign when he spoke was perhaps e

“it’s one of her wa

er considered. “And who is

ut with effect; but she after a minute either renounced

ow do y

ng again, she was earnestly emphati

it out about some

l. I’ve an idea there has been, more than once, somebody I’m not acquainted with — and needn’t be or want

inated. “I don’t see how you can gi

lly — for dignity? Dignit

postulate the m

une to be-when you’re so fine — so wasted? And yet,” she went

hen, after a little, solicited by another view, to let the appeal

another gratitude. “Then, d

r talk if her father had not, after a little, shown the dispositio

hated to be, in such delicate matters, literal, she was move

f she has so absolutely fai

that.” And the Princess added: “S

, still wondered. “

up. “Once is enough. Enough, th

a need of some basis on which, under these new lights, h

nk goodn

hen don’t you

do?” She looked at him, flushed again now; with which,

“How do I know, my de

ow, father, what

ee,” he quic

al of pride there’s a great deal of silence. I don’t know, I admit, what I should do if I were lonely and sore — for what sorrow,

er father cheerfully interposed. “

ents, for all I know, be abject under a blow. How can I tell

uiet look. “Who SHOUL

uld have been dreadful to me. For such wounds and shames are dreadful: at least,” she added, catching herself up, “I suppose they are; for what, as I say, do I know of them? I don’t WANT to

alien age and passing as an image in worn relief round and round a precious vase. She had always had odd moments of striking him, daughter of his very own though she was, as a figure thus simplified, “generalised” in its grace, a figure with which his human connection was fairly interrupted by some vague analogy of turn and attitude, something shyly mythological and nymphlike. The trick, he was not uncomplacently aware, was mainly of his own mind; it came from his caring for precious vases only less than for precious daughters. And what was more to the point still, it often operated while he was quite at the same time conscious that Maggie had been described, even in her prettiness, as “prim”— Mrs. Rance herself had enthusiastically used the word of her; while he remembered that when once she had been told before him, familiarly, that she

onditi

intensely that she’s, as yo

nswer was so prompt. “Oh no. She’s bey

things to be them. It’s a

but she continued definite. “She

l we can give her. I’ll write to

d as she gaily and t

thing more — he was an angel with a human cu

mper you. Let it be enough for you it has a

everything,” Mr. Verver more

n love with you. It’s not, as I told you a

surance, as if the latter overdid his alarm, and that should be co

little girl,” s

e to her as a b

ctly what

really arranged something. They had come out together for themselves, but it had produced something more. What it had produced wa

n for a protest. “Do you know what

w to talk; and he wasn’t such a fool, he presently showed, as not, sudden

iled. “But it will take,”

here with you,” her fath