No. XVIII.
SCENE—The roof of Milan Cathedral; the innumerable statues and fretted pinnacles show in dazzling relief against the intense blue sky. Through the open-work of the parapet is seen the vast Piazza, with its yellow toy tram-cars, and the small crawling figures which cast inordinately long shadows. All around is a maze of pale brown roofs, and beyond, the green plain blending on the horizon with dove-coloured clouds in a quivering violet haze. CULCHARD is sitting by a small doorway at the foot of a flight of steps leading to the Spire.
Culchard (meditating). I think MAUD must have seen from the tone in which I said I preferred to remain below, that I object to that cousin of hers perpetually coming about with us as he does. She's far too indulgent to him—a posing, affected prig, always talking about the wonderful things he's going to write! He had the impudence to tell me I didn't know the most elementary laws of the sonnet this morning! Withering repartee seems to have no effect whatever on him, I wish I had some of PODBURY's faculty for flippant chaff! I wonder if he and the PRENDERGASTS really are at Milan. I certainly thought I recognised ——. If they are, it's very bad taste of them, after the pointed way in which they left Bellagio. I only hope we shan't—
[Here the figure of Miss PRENDERGAST suddenly emerges from the door; CULCHARD rises and stands aside to let her pass; she returns his salutation distantly, and passes on with her chin in the air; her brother follows, with a side-jerk of recognition. PODBURY comes last, and halts undecidedly.
Podb. (with a rather awkward laugh). Here we are again, eh? (Looks after Miss P., hesitates, and finally sits down by CULCHARD.) Where's the fascinating Miss TROTTER? How do you come to be off duty like this?
Culch. (stiffly). The fascinating Miss TROTTER is up above with VAN BOODELER, so my services are not required.
Podb. Up above? And HYPATIA just gone up with BOB! Whew, there'll be ructions presently! Well out of it, you and I! So it's BOODELER's turn now? That's rough on you—after HYPATIA had whistled poor old BOB off. As much out in the cold as ever, eh?
Culch. I am nothing of the kind. I find him distasteful to me, and avoid him as much as I can, that's all. I wish, PODBURY, er—I almost wish you could have stayed with me, instead of allowing the PRENDERGASTS to carry you off as you did. You would have kept VAN BOODELER in order.
Podb. Much obliged, old chap; but I'm otherwise engaged. Being kept in order myself. Oh, I like it, you know. She's developing my mind like winking. Spent the whole morning at the Brera, mugging up these old Italian Johnnies. They really are clinkers, you know. RAPHAEL, eh?—and GIOTTO, and MANTEGNA, and all that lot. As HYPATIA says, for intensity of—er religious feeling, and—and subtlety of symbolism, and—and so on, they simply take the cake—romp in, and the rest nowhere! I'm getting quite the connoisseur, I can tell you!
Culch. Evidently. I suppose there's no chance of a—a reconciliation up there? [With some alarm.
Podb. Don't you be afraid. When HYPATIA once gets her quills up, they don't subside so easily! Hallo! isn't this old TROTTER?
[That gentleman appears in the doorway.
Mr. T. Why, Mr. PODBURY, so you've come along here? That's right! And how do you like Milan? I like the place first-rate—it's a live city, Sir. And I like this old cathedral, too; it's well constructed—they've laid out money on it. I call it real ornamental, all these little figgers they've stuck around—and not two of 'em a pair either. Now, they might have had 'em all alike, and no one any the wiser up so high as this; but it certainly gives it more variety, too, having them different. Well, I'm going up as high as ever I can go. You two better come along up with me.
On the Top.
Miss P. (as she perceives Miss T. and her companion). Now, BOB, pray remember all I've told you! [BOB turns away, petulantly.
Miss T. (aside, to VAN B.). I guess the air's got cooler up here, CHARLEY. But if that girl imagines she's going to freeze me! (Advancing to Miss P.) Why, my dear, it's almost too sweet for anything, meeting you again!
Miss P. You're extremely kind, MAUD; I wish I could return the compliment; but really, after what took place at Bellagio, I—
Miss T. (taking her arm). Well, I'll own up to being pretty horrid—and so were you; but there don't seem any sense in our meeting up here like a couple of strange cats on tiles. I won't fly out anymore, there! I'm just dying for a reconciliation; and so is Mr. VAN BOODELER. The trouble I've had to console that man! He never met anybody before haff so interested in the great Amurrcan Novel. And he's wearying for another talk. So you'd better give that hatchet a handsome funeral, and come along and take pity on him.
[HYP., after a struggle, yields, half-reluctantly, and allows herself to be taken across to Mr. VAN B., who greets her effusively. Miss T. leaves them together.
Bob P. (who has been prudently keeping in the background till now, decides that his chance has come). How do you do. Miss TROTTER? It's awfully jolly to meet you again like this!
Miss. T. Well, I guess that remark would have been more convincing if you'd made it a few minutes earlier.
Bob. I—I—you see, I didn't know.... I was afraid—I rather thought—
Miss T. You don't get much further with rather thinking, as a general rule, than if you didn't think at all. But if you're at all anxious to run away the way you did at Bellagio, you needn't be afraid I'll hinder you.
Bob. (earnestly). Run away! Do you think I'd have gone if—I've felt dull enough ever since, without that.'
Miss T. Oh, I expect you've had a beautiful time. We have.
Miss P. (coming up). ROBERT, I thought you wanted to see the Alps? You should come over to the other side, and—
Miss T. I'll undertake that he sees the Alps, darling, presently—when we're through our talk.
Miss P. As you please, dear. But (pointedly) did I not see Mr. CULCHARD below?
Miss T. You don't mean to say you're wearied of Mr. VAN BOODELER already! Well, Mr. CULCHARD will be along soon, and I'll loan him to you. I'll tell him you're vurry anxious to converse with him some more. He's just coming along now, with Mr. PODBURY and Poppa.
Miss P. (under her breath). MAUD! if you dare—!
Miss T. Don't you dare me, then—or you'll see. But I don't want to be mean unless I'm obliged to.
[Mr. TROTTER, followed by CULCHARD and PODBURY, arrives at the upper platform. CULCHARD and PODBURY efface themselves as much as possible. Mr. TROTTER greets Miss PRENDERGAST heartily.
Mr. T. Well now, I call this sociable, meeting all together again like this. I don't see why in the land we didn't keep together. I've been saying so to my darter here, ever since Bellagio—ain't that so, MAUD? And she didn't know just how it came about either.
Miss P. (hurriedly). We—we had to be getting on. And I am afraid we must say good-bye now, Mr. TROTTER. I want BOB and Mr. PODBURY to see the Da Vinci fresco, you know, before the light goes. (Bob mutters a highly disrespectful wish concerning that work of Art.) We may see you again, before we leave for Verona.
Mr. T. Verona? Well, I don't care if I see Verona myself. Seems a pity to separate now we have met, don't it? See here, now, we'll all go along to Verona together—how's that, MAUD? Start whenever you feel like it, Miss PRENDERGAST. How does that proposal strike you? I'll be real hurt if you cann't take to my idea.
Miss T. The fact is, Poppa, HYPATIA isn't just sure that Mr. PRENDERGAST wouldn't object.
Bob P. I—object? Not much! Just what I should like, seeing Verona with—all together, you know!
Miss T. Then I guess that's fixed. (Aside, to Miss P., who is speechless). Come, you haven't the heart to go and disappoint my poor Cousin CHARLEY by saying you won't go! He'll be perfectly enchanted to be under vow—unless you've filled up all the vacancies already! (Aloud, to VAN B., as he approaches.) We've persuaded Miss PRENDERGAST to join our party. I hope you feel equal to entertaining her?
Van B. I shall be proud to be permitted to try. (To Miss P.) Then I may take it that you agree with me that the function of the future American fictionist will be— [They move away, conversing.
Podb. (To CULCH.) I say, old fellow, we're to be travelling companions again, after all. And a jolly good thing, too, I think!... eh?
Culch. Oh, h'm—quite so. That is—but no doubt it will be an advantage—(with a glance at Van B., who is absorbed in Miss P.'s conversation)—in—er—some respects. (To himself.) Hardly from poor dear PODBURY's point of view, I'm afraid, though! However, if he sees nothing—! [He shrugs his shoulders, pityingly.