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beneath him just as it was beneath herself to mention to him, uninvited, diat she had instantly offered, and in perfect honesty, to show die telegram to Mr Verver, and that if diis companion had but said die word she would immediately have put it before him. She had thereby forborne to call his attention to her consciousness that such an exposure would, in all probability, straightway have dished her marriage; that all her future had in fact, for the moment, hung by the single hair of Mr Verver's delicacy (as she supposed they must call it); and that her position, in the matter of responsibility, was therefore inattackably straight.

For the Prince himself, meanwhile, time, in its measured allow­ance, had originally much helped him - helped him in the sense of there not being enough of it to trip him up; in spite of which it was just this accessory element diat seemed, at present, with wonders of patience, to lie in wait. Time had begotten at first, more than anything else, separations, delays and intervals; but it was troublesomely less of an aid from die moment it began so to abound diat he had to meet the question of what to do with it. Less of it was required for the state of being married dian he had, on die whole, expected; less, strangely, for die state of being married even as he was married. And diere was a logic in the matter, he knew; a logic that but gave diis truth a sort of solidity of evidence. Mr Verver, decidedly, helped him widi it - widi his wedded condition; helped him really so much that it made all die difference. In die degree in which he rendered it the service on Mr Verver's part was remarkable - as indeed what service, from the first of dieir meeting, had not been? He was living, he had been living these four or five years, on Mr Verver's services: a truth scarcely less plain if he dealt widi diem, for appreciation, one by one, dian if he poured diem all together into the general pot of his gratitude and let the thing simmer to a nourishing broth. To the latter way with diem he was undoubtedly most disposed; yet he would even thus, on occasion, pick out a piece to taste on its own merits. Wondrous at such hours could seem the savour of the particular 'treat,' at his father-in-law's expense, that he more and more struck himself as enjoying. He had needed months and months to arrive at a full appreciation - he couldn't originally have given off-hand a name to his deepest obligation; but by die time the name had flowered in his mind he was practically living at the ease guaranteed him. Mr Verver then, in a word, took care of his relation to Maggie, as he took care, and apparendy always would, of everything else. He relieved him of all anxiety about his married life in the same manner in which he relieved him on the score of his bank

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account. And as he performed the latter office by communicating with the bankers, so the former sprang as directly from his good understanding with his daughter. This understanding had, wonder­fully - that was in high evidence - the same deep intimacy as the commercial, the financial association founded, far down, on a community of interest. And the correspondence, for the Prince, carried itself out in identities of character the vision of which, fortunately, rather tended to amuse than to - as might have happened - irritate him. Those people - and his free synthesis lumped together capitalists and bankers, retired men of business, illustrious collectors, American fathers-in-law, American fathers, little American daugh­ters, little American wives - those people were of the same large lucky group, as one might say; they were all, at* least, of the same general species and had die same general instincts; they hung together, they passed each other the word, they spoke each other's language, they did each other 'turns.' In this last connection it of course came up for our young man at a given moment that Maggie's relation with him was also, on the perceived basis, taken care of. Which was in fact die real upshot of the matter. It was a 'funny' situation - that is it was funny just as it stood. Their married life was in question, but the solution was, not less strikingly, before them. It was all right for himself, because Mr Verver worked it so for Maggie's comfort; and it was all right for Maggie, because he worked it so for her husband's.

The fact that time, however, was not, as we have said, wholly on the Prince's side might have shown for particularly true one dark day on which, by an odd but not unprecedented chance, the reflections just noted offered themselves as his main recreation. They alone, it appeared, had been appointed to fill the hours for him, and even to fill the great square house in Portland Place, where the scale of one of the smaller saloons fitted them but loosely. He had looked into this room on the chance that he might find the Princess at tea; but though the fireside service of the repast was shiningly present the mistress of die table was not, and he had waited for her, if waiting it could be called, while he measured again and again the stretch of polished floor. He could have named to himself no pressing reason for seeing her at this moment, and her not coming in, as the half-hour elapsed, became in fact quite positively, however perversely, the circumstance that kept him on the spot. Just there, he might have been feeling, just there he could best take his note. This observation was certainly by itself meagre amusement for a dreary little crisis; but his walk to and fro, and in particular his repeated pause at one of the high front

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windows, gave each of the ebbing minutes, none the less, after a time, a little more of the quality of a quickened throb of the spirit. These throbs scarce expressed, however, the impatience of desire, any more than they stood for sharp disappointment: the series together resembled perhaps more than anything else those fine waves of clearness through which, for a watcher of the east, dawn at last trembles into rosy day. The illumination indeed was all for the mind, the prospect revealed by it a mere immensity of the world of thought; the material outlook was all the while a different matter. The March afternoon, judged at the window, had blundered back into autumn; it had been raining for hours, and the colour of the rain, the colour of the air, of the mud, of the opposite houses, of life altogether, in so grim a joke, so idiotic a masquerade, was an unutterable dirty brown. There was at first even, for the young man, no faint flush in the fact of the direction taken, while he happened to look out, by a slow jogging four-wheeled cab which, awkwardly deflecting from the middle course, at the apparent instance of a person within, began to make for the left-hand pavement and so at last, under further instructions, floundered to a full stop before the Prince's windows. The person within, alighting with an easier motion, proved to be a lady who left the vehicle to wait and, putting up no umbrella, quickly crossed the wet interval that separated her from the house. She but flitted and disappeared; yet the Prince, from his standpoint, had had time to recognise her, and the recognition kept him for some minutes motionless.

Charlotte Stant, at such an hour, in a shabby four-wheeler and a waterproof, Charlotte Stant turning up for him at the very climax of his special inner vision, was an apparition charged with a congruity at which he stared almost as if it had been a violence. The effect of her coming to see him, him only, had, while he stood waiting, a singular intensity- though after some minutes had passed the certainty of this began to drop. Perhaps she had not come, or had come only for Maggie; perhaps, on learning below that the Princess had not returned, she was merely leaving a message, writing a word on a card. He should see, at any rate; and meanwhile, controlling himself, would do nothing. This thought of not interfering took on a sudden force for him; she would doubtless hear he was at home, but he would let her visit to him be all of her own choosing. And his view of a reason for leaving her free was the more remarkable that, though taking no step, he yet intensely hoped. The harmony of her breaking into sight while the superficial conditions were so against her was a harmony with conditions that were far from superficial and that gave, for his

Date: 2015-12-17; view: 762