The private life, The wheel of time, Lord Beaupré, The visits, Collaboration, Owen Wingrave.James, Henry
General
The private life, The wheel of time, Lord Beaupré, The visits, Collaboration, Owen Wingrave.
James, Henry
American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
At this moment a message was brought to Mrs. Crisford, and she asked to
be excused while she went to say a word to someone who was waiting.
Maurice Glanvil in this way was left alone for five minutes with the
intensity of the presence evoked by the artist. He found himself
agitated, excited by it: the face of the portrait was so intelligent and
conscious that as he stood there he felt as if some strange
communication had taken place between his being and Mrs. Tregent's. The
idea made him nervous: he moved about the room and ended by turning his
back. Mrs. Crisford reappeared, but he soon took leave of her; and when
he had got home (he had settled himself in South Kensington, in a little
undiscriminated house which he had hated from the first), he learned
from his daughter that she had had a visit from young Tregent. He had
asked first for Mr. Glanvil and then, in the second instance, for
herself, telling her when admitted, as if to attenuate his possible
indiscretion, that his mother had charged him to try to see her even if
he should not find her father. Vera had never before received a
gentleman alone, and the incident had left traces of emotion. "Poor
little thing!" Maurice said to himself: he always took a melancholy view
of any happiness of his daughter's, tending to believe, in his
pessimism, that it could only lead to some refinement of humiliation. He
encouraged her however to talk about young Tregent, who, according to
her account, had been extravagantly amusing. He had said moreover that
his mother was tremendously impatient to renew such an old acquaintance.
"Why in the world doesn't she, then?" Maurice asked himself; "why
doesn't she come and see Vera?" He reflected afterwards that such an
expectation was unreasonable, but it represented at the moment a kind of
rebellion of his conscience. Then, as he had begun to be a little
ashamed of his curiosity, he liked to think that Mrs. Tregent would have
quite as much. On the morrow he knocked at her door--she lived in a
"commodious" house in Manchester Square--and had the satisfaction, as he
had chosen his time carefully, of learning that she had just come in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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