Poor Miss Finch
Page 38
CHAPTER THE THIRTIETH
Herr Grosse
SEVERAL circumstances deserving to be mentioned here, took place in theearly part of the day on which we expected the visit of the two oculists.I have all the will to relate them--but the capacity to do it completelyfails me.
When I look back at that eventful morning, I recall a scene of confusionand suspense, the bare recollection of which seems to upset my mindagain, even at this distance of time. Things and persons all blenddistractedly one with another. I see the charming figure of my blindLucilla, robed in rose-color and white, flitting hither and thither, inthe house and out of the house--at one time mad with impatience for thearrival of the surgeons; at another, shuddering with apprehension of thecoming ordeal, and the coming disappointment which might follow. A momentmore--and, just as my mind has seized it, the fair figure melts andmerges into the miserable apparition of Oscar; hovering and hesitatingbetween Browndown and the rectory; painfully conscious of the newcomplications introduced into his position towards Lucilla by the newstate of things; and yet not man enough, even yet, to seize theopportunity, and set himself right. Another moment passes, and a newfigure--a little strutting consequential figure forces its way into theforeground, before I am ready for it. I hear a big voice booming in myear, with big language to correspond. "No, Madame Pratolungo, nothingwill induce me to sanction by my presence this insane medicalconsultation, this extravagant and profane attempt to reverse the decreesof an all-wise Providence by purely human means. My foot is down--I usethe language of the people, observe, to impress it the more strongly onyour mind--My FOOT is down!" Another moment yet, and Finch and Finch'sFoot disappear over my mental horizon just as my eye has caught them.Damp Mrs. Finch, and the baby whose everlasting programme is suction andsleep, take the vacant place. Mrs. Finch pledges me with wateryearnestness to secrecy; and then confides her intention of escaping herhusband's supervision if she can, and bringing British surgery and Germansurgery to bear both together (gratis) on baby's eyes. Conceive thesepersons all twisting and turning in the convolutions of my brains, as ifthose brains were a labyrinth; with the sayings and doings of one,confusing themselves with the sayings and doings of the other--with athin stream of my own private anxieties (comprehending luncheon on aside-table for the doctors) trickling at intervals through it all--andyou will not wonder if I take a jump, like a sheep, over some six hoursof precious time, and present my solitary self to your eye, posted alonein the sitting-room to receive the council of surgeons on its arrival atthe house. I had but two consolations to sustain me.
First, a Mayonnaise of chicken of my own making on the luncheon-table,which, as a work of Art, was simply adorable--I say no more. Secondly, mygreen silk dress, trimmed with my mother's famous lace--another work ofArt, equally adorable with the first. Whether I looked at theluncheon-table, or whether I looked in the glass, I could feel that Iworthily asserted my nation; I could say to myself, Even in this remotecorner of the earth, the pilgrim of civilization searching for theelegant luxuries of life, looks and sees--France supreme!