Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
keep his eyes from her, and followed wherever she led, penetrating into
rooms where, in his delicate boyhood, he had never been allowed to go.
“I know myself in every part,” cried Giovanna gayly. “I have all
visited, all seen, even where it is not safe. It is safe here, M.
Herbert. Come then and look at the carvings, all close; they are
beautiful when you are near.”
They followed her about within and without, as if she had been the
cicerone, though they had all known Whiteladies long before she had; and
even Reine’s nascent suspicions were not able to stand before her frank
energy and cordial ignorant talk. For she was quite ignorant, and made
no attempt to conceal it.
“Me, I love not at all what is so old,” she said with a laugh. “I prefer
the smooth wall and the big window, and a floor well frotté, that
shines. Wood that is all cut like the lace, what good does that do? and
brick, that is nothing, that is common. I love stone châteaux, with much
of window, and little tourelles at the top. But if you love the wood,
and the brick, très bien! I know myself in all the little corners,” said
Giovanna. And outside and in, it was she who led the way.
Once again--and it was a thing which had repeatedly happened before
this, notwithstanding the terror and oppression of her presence--Miss
Susan was even grateful to Giovanna, who left her free to make all her
arrangements, and amused and interested the new-comers, who were
strangers in a sense, though to them belonged the house and everything
in it; and I doubt if it had yet entered into her head that Giovanna’s
society or her beauty involved any danger to Herbert. She was older than
Herbert; she was “not a lady;” she was an intruder and alien, and
nothing to the young people, though she might amuse them for the moment.
The only danger Miss Susan saw in her was one tragic and terrible danger
to herself, which she had determined for the moment not to think of. For
everybody else she was harmless. So at least Miss Susan, with an
inadvertence natural to her preoccupied mind, thought.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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