Poor Miss Finch
Page 32
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH
Nugent puzzles Madame Pratolungo
I WAS far from sharing Lucilla's opinion of Nugent Dubourg. His enormousself-confidence was, to my mind, too amusing to be in the leastoffensive. I liked the spirit and gaiety of the young fellow. He camemuch nearer than his brother did to my ideal of the dash and resolutionwhich ought to distinguish a man on the right side of thirty. So far asmy experience of them went, Nugent was (in the popular English phrase)good company--and Oscar was not. My nationality leads me to attach greatimportance to social qualities. The higher virtues of a man only showthemselves occasionally on compulsion, His social qualities comefamiliarly in contact with us every day of our lives. I like to becheerful: I am all for the social qualities.
There was one little obstacle in those early days, which set itself upbetween my sympathies and Nugent.
I was thoroughly at a loss to understand the impression which Lucilla hadproduced on him.
The same constraint which had, in such a marked manner, subdued him athis first interview with her, still fettered him in the time when theybecame better acquainted with one another. He was never in high spiritsin her presence. Mr. Finch could talk him down without difficulty, if Mr.Finch's daughter happened to be by. Even when he was vaporing abouthimself, and telling us of the wonderful things he meant to do inPainting, Lucilla's appearance was enough to check him, if she happenedto come into the room. On the first day when he showed me his Americansketches (I define them, if you ask my private opinion, as falsepretenses of Art, by a dashing amateur)--on that day, he was in fullflow; marching up and down the room, smacking his forehead, andannouncing himself quite gravely as "the coming man" in landscapepainting.
"My mission, Madame Pratolungo, is to reconcile Humanity and Nature. Ipropose to show (on an immense scale) how Nature (in her grandestaspects) can adapt herself to the spiritual wants of mankind. In your joyor your sorrow, Nature has subtle sympathies with you, if you only knowwhere to look for them. My pictures--no! my poems in color--will showyou. Multiply my works, as they certainly will be multiplied, by means ofprints--and what does Art become in my hands? A Priesthood! In whataspect do I present myself to the public? As a mere landscape painter?No! As Grand Consoler!" In the midst of this rhapsody (how wonderfully heresembled Oscar in _his_ bursts of excitement while he was talking!)--inthe full torrent of his predictions of his own coming greatness, Lucillaquietly entered the room. The "Grand Consoler" shut up his portfolio;dropped Painting on the spot; asked for Music, and sat down, a model ofconventional propriety, in a corner of the room. I inquired afterwards,why he had checked himself when she came in. "Did I?" he said. "I don'tknow why." The thing was really inexplicable. He honestly admiredher--one had only to notice him when he was looking at her to see it. Hehad not the faintest suspicion of her dislike for him--she carefullyconcealed it for Oscar's sake. He felt genuine sympathy for her in heraffliction--his mad idea that her sight might yet be restored, was thenatural offspring of a true feeling for her. He was not unfavorable tohis brother's marriage--on the contrary, he ruffled the rector's dignity(he was always giving offense to Mr. Finch) by suggesting that themarriage might be hastened. I heard him say the words myself:--"Thechurch is close by. Why can't you put on your surplice and make Oscarhappy to-morrow, after breakfast?" More even than this, he showed themost vivid interest--like a woman's interest rather than a man's--inlearning how the love-affair between Oscar and Lucilla had begun. Ireferred him, so far as Oscar was concerned, to his brother as thefountain-head of information. He did not decline to consult his brother.He did not own to me that he felt any difficulty in doing so. He simplydropped Oscar in silence; and asked about Lucilla. How had it begun onher side? I reminded him of his brother's romantic position at Dimchurchand told him to judge for himself of the effect it would produce on theexcitable imagination of a young girl. He declined to judge for himself;he persisted in appealing to me. When I told the little love-story of thetwo young people, one event in it appeared to make a very strongimpression on him. The effect produced on Lucilla (when she first heardit) by the sound of his brother's voice, dwelt strangely on his mind. Hefailed to understand it; he ridiculed it; he declined to believe it. Iwas obliged to remind him that Lucilla was blind, and that love which, inother cases, first finds its way to the heart through the eyes, couldonly, in her case, first find its way through the ears. My explanation,thus offered, had its effect: it set him thinking. "The sound of hisvoice!" he said to himself, still turning the problem over and over inhis mind. "People say my voice is exactly like Oscar's," he added,suddenly addressing himself to me. "Do you think so too?" I answered thatthere could be no doubt of it. He got up from his chair, with a quicklittle shudder, like a man who feels a chill--and changed the subject. Onthe next occasion when he and Lucilla met--so far from being morefamiliar with her, he was more constrained than ever. As it had begunbetween these two, so it seemed likely to continue to the end. In mysociety, he was always at his ease. In Lucilla's society, never!
What was the obvious conclusion which a person with my experience oughtto have drawn from all this?
I know well enough what it was, now. On my oath as an honest woman, Ifailed to see it at the time. We are not always (suffer me to remind you)consistent with ourselves. The cleverest people commit occasional lapsesinto stupidity--just as the stupid people light up with gleams ofintelligence at certain times. You may have shown your usual good sensein conducting your affairs on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday in the week.But it doesn't at all follow from this, that you may not make a fool ofyourself on Thursday. Account for it as you may--for a much longer timethan it suits my self-esteem to reckon up, I suspected nothing anddiscovered nothing. I noted his behavior in Lucilla's presence as oddbehavior and unaccountable behavior--and that was all.