Henry James: Complete Stories 1864-1874 (67 page)

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Page 394
Grice uttered this sage reflection by no means in the tone of successful controversy and with the faintest possible tremor in her voice.
Good God! do you mean to say that an hostility of race, a legendary feud, is to prevent you and me from meeting again? The Englishman stopped short as he made this inquiry, but Agatha continued to walk, as if that might help her to elude it. She had come out with a perfectly sincere determination to prevent Sir Rufus from saying what she believed he wanted to say, and if her voice had trembled just now it was because it began to come over her that her preventive measures would fail. The only tolerably efficacious one would be to turn straight round and go home. But there would be a rudeness in this course and even a want of dignity; and besides she did not wish to go home. She compromised by not answering her companion's question, and though she could not see him she was aware that he was looking after her with an expression in his face of high impatience momentarily baffled. She knew that expression and thought it handsome; she knew all his expressions and thought them all handsome. He overtook her in a few moments and then she was surprised that he should be laughing as he exclaimed: It's too absurd!it's too absurd! It was not long however before she understood the nature of his laughter, as she understood everything else. If she was nervous he was scarcely less so; his whole manner now expressed the temper of a man wishing to ascertain rapidly whether he may enjoy or must miss great happiness. Before she knew it he had spoken the words which she had flattered herself he should not speak; he had said that since there appeared to be a doubt whether they should soon meet again it was important he should seize the present occasion. He was very glad after all, because for several days he had been wanting to speak. He loved her as he had never loved any woman and he besought her earnestly to believe it. What was this crude stuff about disliking the English and disliking the Americans? what had questions of nationality to do with it any more than questions of ornithology? It was a question simply of being his wife, and that was rather between themselves, was it not? He besought her to consider it, as
he
had been turning it over from almost the first hour he met her. It was not in
 
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Agatha's power to go her way now, because he had laid his hand upon her in a manner that kept her motionless, and while he talked to her in low, kind tones, touching her face with the breath of supplication, she stood there in the warm darkness, very pale, looking as if she were listening to a threat of injury rather than to a declaration of love. Of course I ought to speak to your mother, he said; I ought to have spoken to her first. But your leaving at an hour's notice and apparently wishing to shake me off has given me no time. For God's sake give me your permission and I will do it to-night.
Don'tdon't speak to my mother, said Agatha, mournfully.
Don't tell me to-morrow then that she won't hear of it!
She likes you, Sir Rufus, the girl rejoined, in the same singular, hopeless tone.
I hope you don't mean to imply by that that you don't!
No; I like you of course; otherwise I should never have allowed myself to be in this position, because I hate it! The girl uttered these last words with a sudden burst of emotion and an equally sudden failure of sequence, and turning round quickly began to walk in the direction from which they had come. Her companion, however, was again beside her, close to her, and he found means to prevent her from going as fast as she wished. History has lost the record of what at that moment he said to her; it was something that made her exclaim in a voice which seemed on the point of breaking into tears: Please don't say that or anything like it again, Sir Rufus, or I shall have to take leave of you for ever this instant, on the spot. He strove to be obedient and they walked on a little in silence; after which she resumed, with a slightly different manner: I am very sorry you have said this to-night. You have troubled and distressed me; it isn't a good time.
I wonder if you would favour me with your idea of what might be a good time?
I don't know. Perhaps never. I am greatly obliged to you for the honour you have done me. I beg you to believe me when I say this. But I don't think I shall ever marry. I have other duties. I can't do what I like with my life.
At this Sir Rufus made her stop again, to tell him what she meant by such an extraordinary speech. What overwhelming
 
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duties had she, pray, and what restrictions upon her life that made her so different from other women? He could not, for his part, imagine a woman more free. She explained that she had her mother, who was terribly delicate and who must be her first thought and her first care. Nothing would induce her to leave her mother. She was all her mother had except Macarthy, and he was absorbed in his profession.
What possible question need there be of your leaving her? the Englishman demanded. What could be more delightful than that she should live with us and that we should take care of her together? You say she is so good as to like me, and I assure you I like
her
most uncommonly.
It would be impossible that we should take her away from my brother, said the girl, after an hesitation.
Take her away? And Sir Rufus Chasemore stood staring. Well, if he won't look after her himselfyou say he is so taken up with his workhe has no earthly right to prevent other people from doing so.
It's not a man's businessit's mineit's her daughter's.
That's exactly what I think, and what in the world do I wish but to help you? If she requires a mild climate we will find some lovely place in the south of England and be as happy there as the day is long.
So that Macarthy would have to come
there
to see his mother? Fancy Macarthy in the south of Englandespecially as happy as the day is long! He would find the day very long, Agatha Grice continued, with the strange little laugh which expressedor rather which disguisedthe mixture of her feelings. He would never consent.
Never consent to what? Is what you mean to say that he would never constent to your marriage? I certainly never dreamed that you would have to ask him. Haven't you defended to me again and again the freedom, the independence with which American girls marry? Where is the independence when it comes to your own case? Sir Rufus Chasemore paused a moment and then he went on with bitterness: Why don't you say outright that you are afraid of your brother? Miss Grice, I never dreamed that that would be your answer to an offer of everything that a manand a man of some distinction, I may say, for it would be affectation in me to
 
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pretend that I consider myself a nonentitycan lay at the feet of a woman.
The girl did not reply immediately; she appeared to think over intently what he had said to her, and while she did so she turned her white face and her charming serious eyes upon him. When at last she spoke it was in a very gentle, considerate tone. You are wrong in supposing that I am afraid of my brother. How can I be afraid of a person of whom I am so exceedingly fond?
Oh, the two things are quite consistent, said Sir Rufus Chasemore, impatiently. And is it impossible that I should ever inspire you with a sentiment which you would consent to place in the balance with this intense fraternal affection? He had no sooner spoken those somewhat sarcastic words than he broke out in a different tone: Oh Agatha, for pity's sake don't make difficulties where there are no difficulties!
I don't make them; I assure you they exist. It is difficult to explain them, but I can see them, I can feel them. Therefore we mustn't talk this way any more. Please, please don't, the girl pursued, imploringly. Nothing is possible to-day. Some day or other very likely there will be changes. Then we shall meet; then we shall talk again.
I like the way you ask me to wait ten years. What do you mean by changes? Before heaven, I shall never change, Sir Rufus declared.
Agatha Grice hesitated. Well, perhaps you will like us better.
Us? Whom do you mean by us? Are you coming back to that beastly question of one's feelingsreal or supposed it doesn't matterabout your great and glorious country? Good God, it's too monstrous! One tells a girl one adores her and she replies that she doesn't care so long as one doesn't adore her compatriots. What do you want me to do to them? What do you want me to say? I will say anything in the English language, or in the American, that you like. I'll say that they're the greatest of the great and have every charm and virtue under heaven. I'll go down on my stomach before them and remain there for ever. I can't do more than that!
Whether this extravagant profession had the effect of making Agatha Grice ashamed of having struck that note in regard
 
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to her companion's international attitude, or whether her nerves were simply upset by his vehemence, his insistence, is more than I can say: what is certain is that her rejoinder to this last speech was a sudden burst of tears. They fell for a moment rapidly, soundlessly, but she was quicker still in brushing them away. You may laugh at me or you may despise me, she said when she could speak, and I daresay my state of mind is deplorably narrow. But I couldn't be happy with you if you hated my country.
You would hate mine back and we should pass the liveliest, jolliest days! returned the Englishman, gratified, softened, enchanted by her tears. My dear girl, what is a woman's country? It's her house and her garden, her children and her social world. You exaggerate immensely the difference which that part of the business makes. I assure you that if you were to marry me it would be the last thing you would find yourself thinking of. However, to prove how little I hate your country I am perfectly willing to go there and live with you.
Oh, Sir Rufus Chasemore! murmured Agatha Grice, protestingly.
You don't believe me?
She believed him not a bit and yet to hear him make such an offer was sweet to her, for it gave her a sense of the reality of his passion. I shouldn't ask thatI shouldn't even like it, she said; and then he wished to know what she would like. I should like you to let me gonot to press me, not to distress me any more now. I shall think of everythingof course you know that. But it will take me a long time. That's all I can tell you now, but I think you ought to be content. He was obliged to say that he was content, and they resumed their walk in the direction of the hotel. Shortly before they reached it Agatha exclaimed with a certain irrelevance, You ought to go there first; then you would know.
Then I should know what?
Whether you would like it.
Like your great country? Good Lord, what difference does it make whether I like it or not?
Nothat's just ityou don't care, said Agatha; yet you said to my brother that you wanted immensely to go.
So I do; I am ashamed not to have been; that's an immense
 
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drawback to-day, in England, to a man in public life. Something has always stopped me off, tiresomely, from year to year. Of course I shall go the very first moment I can take the time.
It's a pity you didn't go this year instead of coming down here, the girl observed, rather sententiously.
I thank my stars I didn't! he responded, in a very different tone.
Well, I should try to make you like it, she went on. I think it very probable I should succeed.
I think it very probable you could do with me exactly whatever you might attempt.
Oh, you hypocrite! the girl exclaimed; and it was on this that she separated from him and went into the house. It soothed him to see her do so instead of rejoining her mother and brother, whom he distinguished at a distance sitting on the terrace. She had perceived them there as well, but she would go straight to her room; she preferred the company of her thoughts. It suited Sir Rufus Chasemore to believe that those thoughts would plead for him and eventually win his suit. He gave a melancholy, loverlike sigh, however, as he walked toward Mrs. Grice and her son. He could not keep away from them, though he was so interested in being and appearing discreet. The girl had told him that her mother liked him, and he desired both to stimulate and to reward that inclination. Whatever he desired he desired with extreme definiteness and energy. He would go and sit down beside the little old lady (with whom hitherto he had no very direct conversation), and talk to her and be kind to her and amuse her. It must be added that he rather despaired of the success of these arts as he saw Macarthy Grice, on becoming aware of his approach, get up and walk away.
IV
It sometimes seems to me as if he didn't marry on purpose to make me feel badly. That was the only fashion, as yet, in which Lady Chasemore had given away her brother to her husband. The words fell from her lips some five years after Macarthy's visit to the lake of Comotwo years after her mother's deatha twelvemonth after her marriage. The same

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