CHAPTER XVII. LA TERRASSE.

tisnotamodernplace,butbuiltsomewhatintheoldstyleoftheBasse-Ville.Itisratheramanoirthanachateautheycallit‘LaTerrasse,’becauseitsfrontrisesfromabroadturfedwalk,whencestepsleaddownagrassyslopetotheavenue.Seeyonder!Themoonrises:shelookswellthroughthetree-boles.” Where,indeed,doesthemoonnotlookwell?Whatisthescene,confinedorexpansive,whichherorbdoesnothallow?Rosyorfiery,shemountednowaboveanotdistantbankevenwhilewewatchedherflushedascent,sheclearedtogold,andinverybriefspace,floatedupstainlessintoanowcalmsky.DidmoonlightsoftenorsaddenDr.Bretton?Didittouchhimwithromance?Ithinkitdid.Albeitofnosighingmood,hesighedinwatchingit:sighedtohimselfquietly.NoneedtoponderthecauseorthecourseofthatsighIknewitwaswakenedbybeautyIknewitpursuedGinevra.Knowingthis,theideapresseduponmethatitwasinsomesortmydutytospeakthenamehemeditated.Ofcoursehewasreadyforthesubject:Isawinhiscountenanceateemingplenitudeofcomment,questionandinterestapressureoflanguageandsentiment,onlychecked,Ithought,bysenseofembarrassmenthowtobegin.Tosparehimthisembarrassmentwasmybest,indeedmysoleuse.Ihadbuttouttertheidol’sname,andlove’stenderlitanywouldflowout.Ihadjustfoundafittingphrase,“YouknowthatMissFanshaweisgoneonatourwiththeCholmondeleys,”andwasopeningmylipstospeaktoit,whenhescatteredmyplansbyintroducinganothertheme. “Thefirstthingthismorning,”saidhe,puttinghissentimentinhispocket,turningfromthemoon,andsittingdown,“IwenttotheRueFossette,andtoldthecuisinièrethatyouweresafeandingoodhands.DoyouknowthatIactuallyfoundthatshehadnotyetdiscoveredyourabsencefromthehouse:shethoughtyousafeinthegreatdormitory.Withwhatcareyoumusthavebeenwaitedon!” “Oh!allthatisveryconceivable,”saidI.“Gotoncoulddonothingformebutbringmealittletisaneandacrustofbread,andIhadrejectedbothsooftenduringthepastweek,thatthegoodwomangottiredofuselessjourneysfromthedwelling-housekitchentotheschool-dormitory,andonlycameonceadayatnoontomakemybed.Ibelieve,however,thatsheisagood-naturedcreature,andwouldhavebeendelightedtocookmec?telettesdemouton,ifIcouldhaveeatenthem.” “WhatdidMadameBeckmeanbyleavingyoualone?” “MadameBeckcouldnotforeseethatIshouldfallill.” “Yournervoussystemboreagoodshareofthesuffering?” “Iamnotquitesurewhatmynervoussystemis,butIwasdreadfullylow-spirited.” “Whichdisablesmefromhelpingyoubypillorpotion.Medicinecangivenobodygoodspirits.MyarthaltsatthethresholdofHypochondria:shejustlooksinandseesachamberoftorture,butcanneithersaynordomuch.Cheerfulsocietywouldbeofuseyoushouldbeaslittlealoneaspossibleyoushouldtakeplentyofexercise.” Acquiescenceandapausefollowedtheseremarks.Theysoundedallright,Ithought,andborethesafesanctionofcustom,andthewell-wornstampofuse. “MissSnowe,”recommencedDr.John—myhealth,nervoussystemincluded,beingnow,somewhattomyrelief,discussedanddonewith—“isitpermittedmetoaskwhatyourreligionis?AreyouaCatholic?” Ilookedupinsomesurprise—“ACatholic?No!Whysuggestsuchanidea?” “Themannerinwhichyouwereconsignedtomelastnightmademedoubt.” “Iconsignedtoyou?But,indeed,Iforget.ItyetremainsformetolearnhowIfellintoyourhands.” “Why,undercircumstancesthatpuzzledme.Ihadbeeninattendancealldayyesterdayonacaseofsingularlyinterestingandcriticalcharacterthediseasebeingrare,anditstreatmentdoubtful:IsawasimilarandstillfinercaseinahospitalinParisbutthatwillnotinterestyou.Atlastamitigationofthepatient’smosturgentsymptoms(acutepainisoneofitsaccompaniments)liberatedme,andIsetouthomeward.M