Chapter 6

uty,andhewasfairlyconfidentofsuccess.IfGinowouldhavesoldhiswifeforathousandlire,forhowmuchlesswouldhenotsellhischild?Itwasjustacommercialtransaction.Whyshoulditinterferewithotherthings?Hiseyeswerefixedonthetowersagain,justastheyhadbeenfixedwhenhedrovewithMissAbbott.Butthistimehisthoughtswerepleasanter,forhehadnosuchgravebusinessonhismind.Itwasinthespiritofthecultivatedtouristthatheapproachedhisdestination. Oneofthetowers,roughasanyother,wastoppedbyacross—thetoweroftheCollegiateChurchofSantaDeodata.ShewasaholymaidenoftheDarkAges,thecity’spatronsaint,andsweetnessandbarbarityminglestrangelyinherstory.Soholywasshethatallherlifeshelayuponherbackinthehouseofhermother,refusingtoeat,refusingtoplay,refusingtowork.Thedevil,enviousofsuchsanctity,temptedherinvariousways.Hedangledgrapesaboveher,heshowedherfascinatingtoys,hepushedsoftpillowsbeneathherachinghead.Whenallprovedvainhetrippedupthemotherandflungherdownstairsbeforeherveryeyes.Butsoholywasthesaintthatsheneverpickedhermotherup,butlayuponherbackthroughall,andthusassuredherthroneinParadise.Shewasonlyfifteenwhenshedied,whichshowshowmuchiswithinthereachofanyschool-girl.ThosewhothinkherlifewasunpracticalneedonlythinkofthevictoriesuponPoggibonsi,SanGemignano,Volterra,Sienaitself—allgainedthroughtheinvocationofhernametheyneedonlylookatthechurchwhichroseoverhergrave.Thegrandschemesforamarblefacadewerenevercarriedout,anditisbrownunfinishedstoneuntilthisday.ButfortheinsideGiottowassummonedtodecoratethewallsofthenave.Giottocame—thatistosay,hedidnotcome,Germanresearchhavingdecisivelyproved—butatalleventsthenaveiscoveredwithfrescoes,andsoaretwochapelsinthelefttransept,andthearchintothechoir,andtherearescrapsinthechoiritself.Therethedecorationstopped,tillinthefullspringoftheRenaissanceagreatpaintercametopayafewweeks’visittohisfriendtheLordofMonteriano.IntheintervalsbetweenthebanquetsandthediscussionsonLatinetymologyandthedancing,hewouldstrollovertothechurch,andthereinthefifthchapeltotherighthehaspaintedtwofrescoesofthedeathandburialofSantaDeodata.ThatiswhyBaedekergivestheplaceastar. SantaDeodatawasbettercompanythanHarriet,andshekeptPhilipinapleasantdreamuntilthelegnodrewupatthehotel.Everyonetherewasasleep,foritwasstillthehourwhenonlyidiotsweremoving.Therewerenotevenanybeggarsabout.Thecabmanputtheirbagsdowninthepassage—theyhadleftheavyluggageatthestation—andstrolledabouttillhecameonthelandlady’sroomandwokeher,andsenthertothem. ThenHarrietpronouncedthemonosyllable“Go!” “Gowhere?”askedPhilip,bowingtothelandlady,whowasswimmingdownthestairs. “TotheItalian.Go.” “Buonasera,signorapadrona.SiritornavolontieriaMonteriano!”(Don’tbeagoose.I’mnotgoingnow.You’reintheway,too.)“Vorreiduecamere—” “Go.Thisinstant.Now.I’llstanditnolonger.Go!” “I’mdamnedifI’llgo.Iwantmytea.” “Swearifyoulike!”shecried.“Blaspheme!Abuseme!Butunderstand,I’minearnest.” “Harriet,don’tact.Oractbetter.” “We’vecomeheretogetthebabyback,andfornothingelse.I’llnothavethislevityandslackness,andtalkaboutpicturesandchurches.ThinkofmotherdidshesendyououtforTHEM?” “Thinkofmotheranddon’tstraddleacrossthestairs.Letthecabmanandthelandladycomedown,andletmegoupandchooserooms.” “Ishan’t.” “Harriet,areyoumad?” “Ifyoulike.ButyouwillnotcomeuptillyouhaveseentheItalian.” “Lasignorinasisentemale,”saidPhilip,“C’eilsole.” “Poveretta!”criedthelandladyandthecabman. “Leavemealone!”saidHarriet,snarlingroundatthem.“Idon’tcareforthelotofyou.I’mEnglish,andneitheryou’llcomedownnorheuptillhegoesforthebaby.” “Laprego-piano-piano-ceun’altrasignorinachedorme—” “Weshallprobablybearrestedforbrawling,Harriet.Haveyoutheveryslightestsenseoftheludicrous?” Harriethadnotthatwaswhyshecouldbesopowerful.Shehadconcoctedthissceneinthecarriage,andnothingshouldbaulkherofit.Totheabuseinfrontandthecoaxingbehindshewasequallyindifferent.HowlongshewouldhavestoodlikeaglorifiedHoratius,keepingthestaircaseatbothends,wasnevertobeknown.Fortheyounglady,whosesleeptheyweredisturbing,awokeandopenedherbedroomdoor,andcameoutontothelanding.ShewasMissAbbott. Philip’sfirstcoherentfeelingwasoneofindignation.Toberunbyhismotherandhectoredbyhissisterwasasmuchashecouldstand.Theinterventionofathirdfemaledrovehimsuddenlybeyondpoliteness.Hewasabouttosayexactlywhathethoughtaboutthethingfrombeginningtoend.ButbeforehecoulddosoHarrietalsohadseenMissAbbott.Sheutteredashrillcryofjoy. “You,Caroline,hereofallpeople!”Andinspiteoftheheatshedartedupthestairsandimprintedanaffectionatekissuponherfriend. Philiphadaninspiration.“YouwillhavealottotellMissAbbott,Harriet,andshemayhaveasmuchtotellyou.SoI’llpaymycallonSignorCarella,asyousuggested,andseehowthingsstand.” MissAbbottutteredsomenoiseofgreetingoralarm.Hedidnotreplytoitorapproachnearertoher.Withoutevenpayingthecabman,heescapedintothestreet. “Teareachother’seyesout!”hecried,gesticulatingatthefacadeofthehotel.“Giveittoher,Harriet!Teachhertoleaveusalone.Giveittoher,Caroline!Teachhertobegratefultoyou.Goit,ladiesgoit!” Suchpeopleasobservedhimwereinterested,butdidnotconcludethathewasmad.ThisaftermathofconversationisnotunknowninItaly. Hetriedtothinkhowamusingitwasbutitwouldnotdo—MissAbbott’spresenceaffectedhimtoopersonally.Eithershesuspectedhimofdishonesty,orelseshewasbeingdishonestherself.Hepreferredtosupposethelatter.PerhapsshehadseenGino,andtheyhadpreparedsomeelaboratemortificationfortheHerritons.PerhapsGinohadsoldthebabycheaptoherforajoke:itwasjustthekindofjokethatwouldappealtohim.Philipstillrememberedthelaughterthathadgreetedhisfruitlessjourney,andtheuncouthpushthathadtoppledhimontothebed.Andwhateveritmightmean,MissAbbott’spresencespoiltthecomedy:shewoulddonothingfunny. Duringthisshortmeditationhehadwalkedthroughthecity,andwasoutontheotherside.“WheredoesSignorCarellalive?”heaskedthemenattheDogana. “I’llshowyou,”saidalittlegirl,springingoutofthegroundasItalianchildrenwill. “Shewillshowyou,”saidtheDoganamen,noddingreassuringly.“Followheralways,always,andyouwillcometonoharm.Sheisatrustworthyguide.Sheismy daughter.” cousin.” sister.” Philipknewtheserelativeswell:theyramify,ifneedbe,alloverthepeninsula. “DoyouchancetoknowwhetherSignorCarellaisin?”heaskedher. Shehadjustseenhimgoin.Philipnodded.Hewaslookingforwardtotheinterviewthistime:itwouldbeanintellectualduetwithamanofnogreatintellect.WhatwasMissAbbottupto?Thatwasoneofthethingshewasgoingtodiscover.WhileshehaditoutwithHarriet,hewouldhaveitoutwithGino.HefollowedtheDogana’srelativesoftly,likeadiplomatist. Hedidnotfollowherlong,forthiswastheVolterragate,andthehousewasexactlyoppositetoit.Inhalfaminutetheyhadscrambleddownthemule-trackandreachedtheonlypracticableentrance.Philiplaughed,partlyatthethoughtofLiliainsuchabuilding,partlyintheconfidenceofvictory.MeanwhiletheDogana’srelativelifteduphervoiceandgaveashout. Foranimpressiveintervaltherewasnoreply.Thenthefigureofawomanappearedhighupontheloggia. “ThatisPerfetta,”saidthegirl. “IwanttoseeSignorCarella,”criedPhilip. “Out!” “Out,”echoedthegirlcomplacently. “Whyonearthdidyousayhewasin?”Hecouldhavestrangledherfortemper.Hehadbeenjustripeforaninterview—justtherightcombinationofindignationandacuteness:bloodhot,braincool.ButnothingeverdidgorightinMonteriano.“Whenwillhebeback?”hecalledtoPerfetta.Itreallywastoobad. Shedidnotknow.Hewasawayonbusiness.Hemightbebackthisevening,hemightnot.HehadgonetoPoggibonsi. Atthesoundofthiswordthelittlegirlputherfingerstohernoseandsweptthemattheplain.Shesangasshedidso,evenasherforemothershadsungsevenhundredyearsback— Poggibonizzi,fattiinla, CheMonterianosifacitta! ThensheaskedPhilipforahalfpenny.AGermanlady,friendlytothePast,hadgivenheronethatveryspring. “Ishallhavetoleaveamessage,”hecalled. “NowPerfettahasgoneforherbasket,”saidthelittlegirl.“Whenshereturnsshewilllowerit—so.Thenyouwillputyourcardintoit.Thenshewillraiseit—thus.Bythismeans—” WhenPerfettareturned,Philiprememberedtoaskafterthebaby.Ittooklongertofindthanthebasket,andhestoodperspiringintheeveningsun,tryingtoavoidthesmellofthedrainsandtopreventthelittlegirlfromsingingagainstPoggibonsi.Theolive-treesbesidehimweredrapedwiththeweekly—ormoreprobablythemonthly—wash.Whatafrightfulspottyblouse!He