The American Baron: A Novel — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The American Baron: A Novel
John Stuart Mill · en
"What puzzles me is, how he could have got the chance. It's more than
a week since he saved you, and we all felt deeply grateful to him. But
saving a girl's life doesn't give a man any claim over her; and we
don't altogether like him; and so we all have tried, in a quiet way,
without hurting his feelings, you know, to prevent him from having any
acquaintance with you."
"Oh, I know, I know," said Minnie, briskly. "He told me all that. He
understands that; but he doesn't care, he says, if _I_ only consent.
He will forgive _you_, he says."
Minnie's volubility was suddenly checked by catching her sister's eye
fixed on her in new amazement.
"Now you're beginning to be horrid," she cried. "Don't, don't--"
"Will you have the kindness to tell me," said Mrs. Willoughby, very
quietly, "how in the world the Count contrived to tell you all this?"
"Why--why--several times."
"Several times!"
"Yes."
"Tell me where?"
"Why, once at the amphitheatre. You were walking ahead, and I sat down
to rest, and he came and joined me. He left before you came back."
"He must have been following us, then."
"Yes. And another time in the picture-gallery; and yesterday in a
shop; and this morning at the Cathedral."
"The Cathedral!"
"Yes, Kitty. You know we all went, and Lady Dalrymple would not go up.
So Ethel and I went up. And when we got up to the top I walked about,
and Ethel sat down to admire the view. And, you know, I found myself
off at a little distance, when suddenly I saw Count Girasole. And
then, you know, he--he--proposed."
Mrs. Willoughby sat silent for some time.
"And what did you say to him?" she asked at length.
"Why, what else could I say?"
"What else than _what_?"
"I don't see why you should act _so_ like a grand inquisitor, Kitty.
You really make me feel quite nervous," said Minnie, who put her
little rosy-tipped fingers to one of her eyes, and attempted a sob,
which turned out a failure.
"Oh, I only asked you what you told him, you know."
"Well," said Minnie, gravely, "I told him, you know, that I was
awfully grateful to him, and that I'd give any thing if I could to
express my gratitude. And then, you know--oh, he speaks such darling
broken English--he called me his 'mees,' and tried to make a pretty
speech, which was so mixed with Italian that I didn't understand one
single word. By-the-way, Kitty, isn't it odd how every body here
speaks Italian, even the children?"
"Yes, very odd; but, Minnie dear, I want to know what you told him."
"Why, I told him that I didn't know, you know."
"And then?"
"And then he took my hand. Now, Kitty, you're unkind. I really _can
not_ tell you all this."
"Yes, but I only ask so as to advise you. I want to know how the case
stands."
"Well, you know, he was so urgent--"
"Yes?"
"And so handsome--"
"Well?"
"And then, you know, he saved my life--didn't he, now? You must
acknowledge that much, mustn't you?"
"Oh yes."
"Well--"
"Well?"
Minnie sighed.
"So what could I say?"
Minnie paused.