Chapter 7
Their eyes followed her admiringly. They had no idea they hadbeen snubbed. It was a disappointment, of course, to find she hadforestalled them and that they were not to have the happiness ofpreparing for her, of watching her face when she arrived and first saweverything, but there was till Mrs. Fisher. They would concentrate onMrs. Fisher, and would watch her face instead; only, like everybodyelse, they would have preferred to watch Lady Caroline's.
Perhaps, then, as Lady Caroline had talked of breakfast, they hadbetter begin by going and having it, for there was too much to be donethat day to spend any more time gazing at the scenery--servants to beinterviewed, the house to be gone through and examined, and finallyMrs. Fisher's room to be got ready and adorned.
They waved their hands gaily at Lady Caroline, who seemedabsorbed in what she saw and took no notice, and turning away found themaidservant of the night before had come up silently behind them incloth slippers with string soles.
She was Francesca, the elderly parlour-maid, who had been withthe owner, he had said, for years, and whose presence made inventoriesunnecessary; and after wishing them good-morning and hoping they hadslept well, she told them breakfast was ready in the dining-room on thefloor below, and if they would follow her she would lead.
They did not understand a single word of the very many in whichFrancesca succeeded in clothing this simple information, but theyfollowed her, for it at least was clear that they were to follow, andgoing down the stairs, and along the broad hall like the one aboveexcept for glass doors at the end instead of a window opening into thegarden, they were shown into the dining-room; where, sitting at thehead of the table having her breakfast, was Mrs. Fisher.
This time they exclaimed. Even Mrs. Arbuthnot exclaimed, thoughher exclamation was only "Oh."
Mrs. Wilkins exclaimed at greater length. "Why, but it's likehaving the bread taken out of one's mouth!" exclaimed Mrs. Wilkins.
"How do you do," said Mrs. Fisher. "I can't get up because of mystick." And she stretched out her hand across the table.
They advanced and shook it.
"We had no idea you were here," said Mrs. Arbuthnot.
"Yes," said Mrs. Fisher, resuming her breakfast. "Yes. I amhere." And with composure she removed the top of her egg.
"It's a great disappointment," said Mrs. Wilkins. "We had meantto give you such a welcome."
This was the one, Mrs. Fisher remembered, briefly glancing ather, who when she came to Prince of Wales Terrace said she had seenKeats. She must be careful with this one--curb her from the beginning.
She therefore ignored Mrs. Wilkins and said gravely, with adownward face of impenetrable calm bent on her egg, "Yes. I arrivedyesterday with Lady Caroline."
"It's really dreadful," said Mrs. Wilkins, exactly as if she hadnot been ignored. "There's nobody left to get anything ready for now.I feel thwarted. I feel as if the bread had been taken out of my mouthjust when I was going to be happy swallowing it."
"Where will you sit?" asked Mrs. Fisher of Mrs. Arbuthnot--markedlyof Mrs. Arbuthnot; the comparison with the bread seemed to her mostunpleasant.
"Oh, thank you--" said Mrs. Arbuthnot, sitting down rathersuddenly next to her.
There were only two places she could sit down in, the places laidon either side of Mrs. Fisher. She therefore sat down in one, and Mrs.Wilkins sat down opposite her in the other.
Mrs. Fisher was at the head of the table. Round her was groupedthe coffee and the tea. Of course they were all sharing San Salvatoreequally, but it was she herself and Lotty, Mrs. Arbuthnot mildlyreflected, who had found it, who had had the work of getting it, whohad chosen to admit Mrs. Fisher into it. Without them, she could nothelp thinking, Mrs. Fisher would not have been there. Morally Mrs.Fisher was a guest. There was no hostess in this party, but supposingthere had been a hostess it would not have been Mrs. Fisher, nor LadyCaroline, it would have been either herself or Lotty. Mrs. Arbuthnotcould not help feeling this as she sat down, and Mrs. Fisher, the handwhich Ruskin had wrung suspended over the pots before her, inquired,"Tea or coffee?" She could not help feeling it even more definitelywhen Mrs. Fisher touched a small gong on the table beside her as thoughshe had been used to that gong and that table ever since she waslittle, and, on Francesca's appearing, bade her in the language ofDante bring more milk. There was a curious air about Mrs. Fisher,thought Mrs. Arbuthnot, of being in possession and if she herself hadnot been so happy she would have perhaps minded.
Mrs. Wilkins noticed it too, but it only made her discursivebrain think of cuckoos. She would no doubt immediately have begun totalk of cuckoos, incoherently, unrestrainably and deplorably, if shehad been in the condition of nerves and shyness she was in last timeshe saw Mrs. Fisher. But happiness had done away with shyness--she wasvery serene; she could control her conversation she did not have,horrified, to listen to herself saying things she had no idea of sayingwhen she began; she was quite at her ease, and completely natural. Thedisappointment of not going to be able to prepare a welcome for Mrs.Fisher had evaporated at once, for it was impossible to go on beingdisappointed in heaven. Nor did she mind her behaving as hostess.What did it matter? You did not mind things in heaven. She and Mrs.Arbuthnot, therefore, sat down more willingly than they otherwise wouldhave done, one on either side of Mrs. Fisher, and the sun, pouringthrough the two windows facing east across the bay, flooded the room,and there was an open door leading into the garden, and the garden wasfull of many lovely things, especially freesias.
The delicate and delicious fragrance of the freesias came inthrough the door and floated round Mrs. Wilkins's enraptured nostrils.Freesias in London were quite beyond her. Occasionally she went into ashop and asked what they cost, so as just to have an excuse for liftingup a bunch and smelling them, well knowing that it was something awfullike a shilling for about three flowers. Here they were everywhere--bursting out of every corner and carpeting the rose beds. Imagine it--having freesias to pick in armsful if you wanted to, and with glorioussunshine flooding the room, and in your summer frock, and its beingonly the first of April!
"I suppose you realize, don't you, that we've got to heaven?" she said,beaming at Mrs. Fisher with all the familiarity of a fellow-angel.
"They are considerably younger than I had supposed," thought Mrs.Fisher, "and not nearly so plain." And she mused a moment, while shetook no notice of Mrs. Wilkins's exuberance, on their instant andagitated refusal that day at Prince of Wales Terrace to have anythingto do with the giving or the taking of references.
Nothing could affect her, of course; nothing that anybody did.She was far too solidly seated in respectability. At her back stoodmassively in a tremendous row those three great names she had offered,and they were not the only ones she could turn to for support andcountenance. Even if these young women--she had no grounds forbelieving the one out in the garden to be really Lady Caroline Dester,she had merely been told she was--even if these young women should allturn out to be what Browning used to call--how well she remembered hisamusing and delightful way of putting things--Fly-by-Nights, what couldit possibly, or in any way matter to her? Let them fly by night ifthey wished. One was not sixty-five for nothing. In any case therewould only be four weeks of it, at the end of which she would see nomore of them. And in the meanwhile there were plenty of places whereshe could sit quietly away from them and remember. Also there was herown sitting-room, a charming room, all honey-coloured furniture andpictures, with windows to the sea towards Genoa, and a door opening onto the battlements. The house possessed two sitting-rooms, and sheexplained to that pretty creature Lady Caroline--certainly a prettycreature, whatever else she was; Tennyson would have enjoyed taking herfor blows on the downs--who had seemed inclined to appropriate thehoney-colored one, that she needed some little refuge entirely toherself because of her stick.
"Nobody wants to see an old woman hobbling about everywhere," shehad said. "I shall be quite content to spend much of my time by myselfin here or sitt
ing out on these convenient battlements."
And she had a very nice bedroom, too; it looked two ways, acrossthe bay in the morning sun--she liked the morning sun--and onto thegarden. There were only two of these bedrooms with cross-views in thehouse, she and Lady Caroline had discovered, and they were by far theairiest. They each had two beds in them, and she and Lady Caroline hadhad the extra beds taken out at once and put into two of the otherrooms. In this way there was much more space and comfort. LadyCaroline, indeed, had turned hers into a bed-sitting-room, with thesofa out of the bigger drawing-room and the writing-table and the mostcomfortable chair, but she herself had not had to do that because shehad her own sitting-room, equipped with what was necessary. LadyCaroline had thought at first of taking the bigger sitting-roomentirely for her own, because the dining-room on the floor below couldquite well be used between meals to sit in by the two others, and was avery pleasant room with nice chairs, but she had not liked the biggersitting-room's shape--it was a round room in the tower, with deep slitwindows pierced through the massive walls, and a domed and ribbedceiling arranged to look like an open umbrella, and it seemed a littledark. Undoubtedly Lady Caroline had cast covetous glances at thehoney-coloured room, and if she Mrs. Fisher, had been less firm wouldhave installed herself in it. Which would have been absurd.
"I hope," said Mrs. Arbuthnot, smilingly making an attempt toconvey to Mrs. Fisher that though she, Mrs. Fisher, might not beexactly a guest she certainly was not in the very least a hostess,"your room is comfortable."
"Quite," said Mrs. Fisher. "Will you have some more coffee?"
"No, thank you. Will you?"
"No, thank you. There were two beds in my bedroom, filling it upunnecessarily, and I had one taken out. It has made it much moreconvenient."
"Oh that's why I've got two beds in my room!" exclaimed Mrs. Wilkins,illuminated; the second bed in her little cell had seemed anunnatural and inappropriate object from the moment she saw it.
"I gave no directions," said Mrs. Fisher, addressing Mrs.Arbuthnot, "I merely asked Francesca to remove it."
"I have two in my room as well," said Mrs. Arbuthnot.
"Your second one must be Lady Caroline's. She had hers removedtoo," said Mrs. Fisher. "It seems foolish to have more beds in a roomthan there are occupiers."
"But we haven't got husbands here either," said Mrs. Wilkins,"and I don't see any use in extra beds in one's room if one hasn't gothusbands to put in them. Can't we have them taken away too?"
"Beds," said Mrs. Fisher coldly, "cannot be removed from one roomafter another. They must remain somewhere."
Mrs. Wilkins's remarks seemed to Mrs. Fisher persistentlyunfortunate. Each time she opened her mouth she said something bestleft unsaid. Loose talk about husbands had never in Mrs. Fisher'scircle been encouraged. In the 'eighties, when she chiefly flourished,husbands were taken seriously, as the only real obstacles to sin. Bedstoo, if they had to be mentioned, were approached with caution and adecent reserve prevented them and husbands ever being spoken of in thesame breath.
She turned more markedly than ever to Mrs. Arbuthnot. "Do let megive you a little more coffee," she said.
"No, thank you. But won't you have some more?"
"No indeed. I never have more than two cups at breakfast. Wouldyou like an orange?"
"No thank you. Would you?"
"No, I don't eat fruit at breakfast. It is an American fashionwhich I am too old now to adopt. Have you had all you want?"
"Quite. Have you?"
Mrs. Fisher paused before replying. Was this a habit, this trickof answering a simple question with the same question? If so it mustbe curbed, for no one could live for four weeks in any real comfortwith somebody who had a habit.
She glanced at Mrs. Arbuthnot, and her parted hair and gentlebrow reassured her. No; it was accident, not habit, that had producedthose echoes. She could as soon imagine a dove having tiresome habitsas Mrs. Arbuthnot. Considering her, she thought what a splendid wifeshe would have been for poor Carlyle. So much better than that horridclever Jane. She would have soothed him.
"Then shall we go?" she suggested.
"Let me help you up," said Mrs. Arbuthnot, all consideration.
"Oh, thank you--I can manage perfectly. It's only sometimes thatmy stick prevents me--"
Mrs. Fisher got up quite easily; Mrs. Arbuthnot had hovered overher for nothing.
"I'm going to have one of these gorgeous oranges," said Mrs.Wilkins, staying where she was and reaching across to a black bowlpiled with them. "Rose, how can you resist them. Look--have this one.Do have this beauty--" And she held out a big one.
"No, I'm going to see to my duties," said Mrs. Arbuthnot, movingtowards the door. "You'll forgive me for leaving you, won't you," sheadded politely to Mrs. Fisher.
Mrs. Fisher moved towards the door too; quite easily; almostquickly; her stick did not hinder her at all. She had no intention ofbeing left with Mrs. Wilkins.
"What time would you like to have lunch?" Mrs. Arbuthnot askedher, trying to keep her head as at least a non-guest, if not preciselya hostess, above water.
"Lunch," said Mrs. Fisher, "is at half-past twelve."
"You shall have it at half-past twelve then," said Mrs.Arbuthnot. "I'll tell the cook. It will be a great struggle," shecontinued, smiling, "but I've brought a little dictionary--"
"The cook," said Mrs. Fisher, "knows."
"Oh?" said Mrs. Arbuthnot.
"Lady Caroline has already told her," said Mrs. Fisher.
"Oh?" said Mrs. Arbuthnot.
"Yes. Lady Caroline speaks the kind of Italian cooks understand.I am prevented going into the kitchen because of my stick. And even ifI were able to go, I fear I shouldn't be understood."
"But--" began Mrs. Arbuthnot.
"But it's too wonderful," Mrs. Wilkins finished for her from thetable, delighted with these unexpected simplifications in her andRose's lives. "Why, we've got positively nothing to do here, either ofus, except just be happy. You wouldn't believe," she said, turning herhead and speaking straight to Mrs. Fisher, portions of orange in eitherhand, "how terribly good Rose and I have been for years withoutstopping, and how much now we need a perfect rest."
And Mrs. Fisher, going without answering her out the room, saidto herself, "She must, she shall be curbed."