CHAPTER XXII.
+One Man's Meat; another Man's Poison.+
SCENE--_The Campo S. S. Giovanni e Paulo. Afternoon._ CULCHARD _isleaning against the pedestal of the Colleoni Statue_.
PODBURY. (_who has just come out of S. Giovanni, recognising_ CULCHARD).Hullo! _alone_, eh? Thought you were with Miss Trotter?
CULCHARD. So I am. That is, she is going over a metal-worker's show-roomclose by, and I--er--preferred the open air. But didn't you say you weregoing out with the--er--Prendergasts again?
PODB. So I am. She's in the Church with Bob, so I said I'd come out andkeep an eye on the gondola. Nothing much to see in _there_, you know!
CULCH. (_with a weary irony_). Only the mausoleums of theDoges--Ruskin's "Street of the Tombs"--and a few trifles of that sort!
PODB. That's all. And I'm feeling a bit done, you know. Been doing theCorrer Museum all the morning, and not lunched yet! So Miss Trotter'slooking at ornamental metal-work? Rather fun that, eh?
CULCH. For those who enjoy it. She has only been in there an hour, soshe is not likely to come back just yet. What do you say to coming intoS. S. Giovanni e Paulo again, with _me_? Those tombs form a reallyremarkable illustration, as Ruskin points out, of the gradual decayof----
MISS TROTTER (_suddenly flutters up, followed by an attendant carrying astudded halberd, an antique gondola-hook, and two copperwater-buckets--all of which are consigned to the disgusted_ CULCHARD).Just hold these a spell till I come back. Thanks ever so much.... Well,Mr. Podbury! Aren't you going to admire my purchases? They're realantique--or if they aren't, they'll wear all the better.... There, Ibelieve I'll just have to run back a minute--don't you put those thingsin the gondola yet, Mr. Culchard, or they'll get stolen. [_She fluttersoff._
CULCH. (_helplessly, as he holds the halberd, &c._). I suppose I shallhave to stay _here_ now. You're not going?
PODB. (_consulting his watch_). Must. Promised old Bob I'd relieve guardin ten minutes. Ta-ta.
[_He goes_; _presently_ BOB PRENDERGAST _lounges out of the church_.
CULCH. If I could only make a friend of _him_! (_To_ BOB.) Ah,Prendergast! lovely afternoon, isn't it? Delicious breeze!
BOB (_shortly_). Can't say. Not had much of it, at present.
CULCH. You find these old churches rather oppressive, I dare say.Er--will you have a cigarette? [_Tenders case._
BOB. Thanks; got a pipe. (_He lights it._) Where's Miss Trotter?
CULCH. She will be here presently. By the way, my dear Prendergast,this--er--misunderstanding between your sister and her is veryunfortunate.
BOB. I know that well enough. It's none of _my_ doing! And _you_'ve noreason to complain, at all events!
CULCH. Quite so. Only, you see, we _used_ to be good friends atConstance, and--er--until recently----
BOB. Used we? Of course, if you say so, it's all right. But what are youdriving at exactly?
CULCH. All I am driving at is this: Couldn't we two--er--agree to effecta reconciliation between the two ladies? So much pleasanter for--er--allparties!
BOB. I dare say. But how are you going to set about it? _I_ can't begin.
CULCH. Couldn't you induce your sister to lay aside her--er--prejudiceagainst me? Then _I_ could easily----
BOB. Very likely--but I _couldn't_. I never interfere in my sister'saffairs, and, to tell you the honest truth, I don't feel particularlyinclined to make a beginning on your account. [_Strolls away._
CULCH. (_to himself_). What a surly boor it is! But I don't care--I'lldo him a good turn, in spite of himself! (MISS T. _returns_.) Do youknow, I've just been having a chat with poor young Prendergast. He seemsquite cut up at being forced to side with his sister. I undertookto--er--intercede for him. Now is it quite fair, or like your--er--usualgood-nature, to visit his sister's offences--whatever they are--on him?I--I only put it to you.
MISS T. Well, to think now! I guess you're about the most unselfishsaint on two legs! Now some folks would have felt jealous.
CULCH. Possibly--but I cannot accuse myself of such a failing as that.
MISS T. I'd just like to hear you accuse yourself of _any_ failing! Idon't see however you manage to act so magnanimous and live. I told youI wanted to study your character, and I believe it isn't going to takeme vurry much longer to make up my mind about _you_. You _don't_ supposeI'll have any time for Mr. Prendergast after getting such a glimpse intoyour nature? There, help me into the gondola, and don't talk any moreabout it. Tell him to go to Salviate's right away.
CULCH. (_dejectedly to himself_). I've bungled it! I might have _known_I should only make matters worse!
_On the Piazzetta; it is moonlight, the Campanile and dome of SanGiorgio Maggiore are silhouetted sharp and black against the steel-bluesky across a sea of silver ripples._ PODBURY _and_ CULCHARD _are pacingslowly arm-in-arm between the two columns_.
CULCH. And so you went on to S. Giovanni in Bragora, eh? then over theArsenal, and rowed across the lagoons to see the Armenian convent? Adelightful day, my dear Podbury! I hope you--er--appreciate theinestimable privileges of--of seeing Venice so thoroughly?
PODB. Oh, of course it's very jolly. Find I get a trifle mixedafterwards, though. And, between ourselves, I wouldn't mind--now andthen, you know--just dawdling about among the shops and people, as youand the Trotters do!
CULCH. That has its charm, no doubt. But don't you find Miss Prendergasta mine of information on Italian Art and History?
PODB. Don't I just--rather too _deep_ for me, y' know! I say, isn't MissTrotter immense sport in the shops and that?
"I GUESS YOU'RE THE MOST UNSELFISH SAINT ON TWO LEGS!"]
CULCH. She is--er--vivacious, certainly. (PODBURY _sighs_.) You seemrather dull to-night, my dear fellow?
PODB. Not dull--a trifle out of sorts, that's all. Fact is, I don'tthink Venice agrees with me. All this messing about down beastlyback-courts and canals and in stuffy churches--it _can't_ be healthy,you know! And they've _no_ drainage. I only hope I haven't caughtsomething, as it is. I've that kind of sinking feeling, and a generallowness--_She_ says I lunch too heavily--but I swear it's more thanthat!
CULCH. Nonsense, you're well enough. And why you should feel low, withall your advantages--in Venice as you are, and in constant intercoursewith a mind adorned with every feminine gift--!
PODB. Hul-lo! why, I thought you called her a pedantic prig?
CULCH. If I used such a term at all, it was in no disparaging sense.Every earnest nature presents an--er--priggish side at times. I knowthat even I myself have occasionally, and by people who didn't _know_ meof course, been charged with priggishness.
PODB. Have you, though? But of course there's nothing of that about_her_. Only--well, it don't signify. [_He sighs._
CULCH. Ah, Podbury, take the good the gods provide you and be content!You might be worse off, believe me!
PODB. (_discontentedly_). It's all very well for _you_ to talk--withMiss Trotter all to yourself. I suppose you're regularly engaged by thistime, eh?
CULCH. Not quite. There's still a----And your probation, that'spractically at an end?
PODB. I don't know. Can't make her out. She wouldn't sit on me the wayshe does unless she _liked_ me, I suppose. But I say, it must beawf--rather jolly for you with Miss Trotter? She's got so much _go_, eh?
CULCH. You used to say she wasn't what you call cultivated.
PODB. I know I did. That's just what I like about her! At least--well,we _both_ ought to think ourselves uncommonly lucky beggars, I'm sure![_He sighs more heavily than ever._
CULCH. You especially, my dear Podbury. In fact, I doubt if you're halfgrateful enough!
PODB. (_snappishly_). Yes, I am, I tell you. _I_'m not grumbling, am I?I know as well as you do she's miles too good for me. Haven't I _said_so? Then what the devil do you keep on nagging at me for, eh?
CULCH. I am glad you see it in that light. Aren't you a little irritableto-night?
PODB. No, I'm not. It's those filthy canals. And the way you talk--as ifa girl li
ke Miss Trotter wasn't----!
CULCH. I really can't allow you to lecture me. I am not insensible to mygood-fortune--if others are. Now we'll drop the subject.
PODB. I'm willing enough to drop it. And I shall turn in now--it's late.You coming?
CULCH. Not yet. Good-night. (_To himself, as_ PODBURY _departs_.) Youtasteless _dolt_!
PODB. Good-night! (_To himself, as he swings off._) Confoundedpatronizing _prig_!