Her attitude was perpetually a sort of prayer for assistance, for explanation; and yet no woman in the world could have been less of a comedian.From the moment you were kind to her she depended on you absolutely; her self-consciousness dropped from her and she took the greatest intimacy, the innocent intimacy which was the only thing she could conceive, for granted.
She told me she did not know what had got into her aunt;she had changed so quickly, she had got some idea.I replied that she must find out what the idea was and then let me know;we would go and have an ice together at Florian's, and she should tell me while we listened to the band.
"Oh, it will take me a long time to find out!" she said, rather ruefully;and she could promise me this satisfaction neither for that night nor for the next.I was patient now, however, for I felt that I had only to wait;and in fact at the end of the week, one lovely evening after dinner, she stepped into my gondola, to which in honor of the occasion I had attached a second oar.
We swept in the course of five minutes into the Grand Canal;whereupon she uttered a murmur of ecstasy as fresh as if she had been a tourist just arrived.She had forgotten how splendid the great waterway looked on a clear, hot summer evening, and how the sense of floating between marble palaces and reflected lights disposed the mind to sympathetic talk.
We floated long and far, and though Miss Tita gave no high-pitched voice to her satisfaction I felt that she surrendered herself.
She was more than pleased, she was transported; the whole thing was an immense liberation.The gondola moved with slow strokes, to give her time to enjoy it, and she listened to the plash of the oars, which grew louder and more musically liquid as we passed into narrow canals, as if it were a revelation of Venice.
When I asked her how long it was since she had been in a boat she answered, "Oh, I don't know; a long time--not since my aunt began to be ill." This was not the only example she gave me of her extreme vagueness about the previous years and the line which marked off the period when Miss Bordereau flourished.
I was not at liberty to keep her out too long, but we took a considerable GIRL before going to the Piazza.
I asked her no questions, keeping the conversation on purpose away from her domestic situation and the things I wanted to know;I poured treasures of information about Venice into her ears, described Florence and Rome, discoursed to her on the charms and advantages of travel.She reclined, receptive, on the deep leather cushions, turned her eyes conscientiously to everything I pointed out to her, and never mentioned to me till sometime afterward that she might be supposed to know Florence better than I, as she had lived there for years with Miss Bordereau.
At last she asked, with the shy impatience of a child, "Are we not really going to the Piazza? That's what I want to see!"I immediately gave the order that we should go straight;and then we sat silent with the expectation of arrival.
As some time still passed, however, she said suddenly, of her own movement, "I have found out what is the matter with my aunt:
she is afraid you will go!"
"What has put that into her head?"
"She has had an idea you have not been happy.That is why she is different now.""You mean she wants to make me happier?"
"Well, she wants you not to go; she wants you to stay.""I suppose you mean on account of the rent," I remarked candidly.
Miss Tita's candor showed itself a match for my own.
"Yes, you know; so that I shall have more.""How much does she want you to have?" I asked, laughing.
"She ought to fix the sum, so that I may stay till it's made up.""Oh, that wouldn't please me," said Miss Tita."It would be unheard of, your taking that trouble.""But suppose I should have my own reasons for staying in Venice?""Then it would be better for you to stay in some other house.""And what would your aunt say to that?"
"She wouldn't like it at all.But I should think you would do well to give up your reasons and go away altogether.""Dear Miss Tita," I said, "it's not so easy to give them up!"She made no immediate answer to this, but after a moment she broke out:
"I think I know what your reasons are!"
"I daresay, because the other night I almost told you how I wish you would help me to make them good.""I can't do that without being false to my aunt.""What do you mean, being false to her?"
"Why, she would never consent to what you want.She has been asked, she has been written to.It made her fearfully angry.""Then she HAS got papers of value?" I demanded quickly.
"Oh, she has got everything!" sighed Miss Tita with a curious weariness, a sudden lapse into gloom.
These words caused all my pulses to throb, for I regarded them as precious evidence.For some minutes I was too agitated to speak, and in the interval the gondola approached the Piazzetta.
After we had disembarked I asked my companion whether she would rather walk round the square or go and sit at the door of the cafe;to which she replied that she would do whichever I liked best--I must only remember again how little time she had.I assured her there was plenty to do both, and we made the circuit of the long arcades.
Her spirits revived at the sight of the bright shop windows, and she lingered and stopped, admiring or disapproving of their contents, asking me what I thought of things, theorizing about prices.
My attention wandered from her; her words of a while before, "Oh, she has got everything!" echoed so in my consciousness.
We sat down at last in the crowded circle at Florian's, finding an unoccupied table among those that were ranged in the square.
It was a splendid night and all the world was out-of-doors;Miss Tita could not have wished the elements more auspicuous for her return to society.I saw that she enjoyed it even more than she told; she was agitated with the multitude of her impressions.