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Chapter 15 · The Enchanted April

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Chapter fifteen of The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnum. This LibriVox recording is
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in the public domain. Read by T. R. Love. The strange
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effect of this incident was that when they met that evening at dinner, both
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missus Fisher and Lady Caroline had a singular feeling of secret understanding with mister Wilkins.
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He could not be to them as other men. He could not be
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to them as he would have been if they had met him in his clothes.
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There was a sense of broken ice. They felt at once intimate and
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indulgent. Almost, they felt to him as nurses do, as those feel
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who have assisted other patients or young children at their baths. They were acquainted
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with mister Wilkins's legs. What missus Fisher said to him that morning, in
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her first shock, will never be known. But what mister Wilkins said to
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her in reply, when reminded by what she was saying of his condition,
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was so handsome in its apology, so proper in its confusion, that she
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had ended up by being quite sorry for him and completely placated. After all,
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it was an accident, and nobody could help accidents. And when she
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saw him next at dinner, dressed polished, spotless as to linen, and
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sleek as to hair. She felt this singular sensation of a secret understanding with
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him, and added to it of a kind of almost personal pride in his
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appearance now that he was dressed, which presently extended in some subtle way to
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an almost personal pride in everything he said. There was no doubt whatever in
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missus Fisher's mind that a man was infinitely preferable as a companion to a woman.
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Mister Wilkinson's presence conversation at once raised the standard of the dinner table from
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that of a bear garden, yes, a bear garden, to that of
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a civilized social gathering. He talked as men talk about interesting subjects, and
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though most courteous to Lady Caroline, showed no traces of dissolving into simpers and
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idiocy whenever he addressed her. He was indeed precisely as courteous to missus Fisher
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herself, and when, for the first time at that table, politics were
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introduced, he listened to her with the proper seriousness, on her exhibiting a
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desire to speak, and treated her opinions with the attention they deserved. He
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appeared to think much as she did about Lloyd George, and in regard to
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literature he was equally sound. In fact, there was real conversation, and
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he liked nuts. How he could have married Missus Wilkins is a mystery.
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Lottie, for her part, looked on with round eyes. She had expected
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Mellersh to take at least two days before he got to this stage, but
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the san salvatory spell had worked instantly. It was not only that he was
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pleasant at dinner, for she had always seen him pleasant at dinner with other
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people. But he had been pleasant all day, privately, so pleasant that
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he had complimented her on her looks while she was brushing out her hair,
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and kissed her, kissed her, and it was neither good morning nor good
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night. Well, this being so, she would put off telling him the
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truth about her nest egg and about Rose not being his hostess after all till
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next day. Pity despoiled things. She had been going to blurt it out
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as soon as he had had a rest, But it did seem a pity
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to disturb such a beautiful full frame of mind as that of Malush this first
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day. Let him too, get more firmly fixed in heaven. Once fixed,
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he wouldn't mind anything. Her face sparkled with delight at the instantaneous effect
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of San Salvatore. Even the catastrophe of the bath of which she had been
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told when she came in from the garden, had not shaken him. Of
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course, all that he had needed was a holiday. What a brute she
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had been to him when he wanted to take her himself to Italy. But
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this arrangement, as it happened, was ever so much better, though not
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through any merit of hers. She talked and laughed gaily, not a shred
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of fear of him left in her. And even when she said, struck
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by his spotlessness, that he looked so clean that one could eat one's dinner
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off him, and Scrap laughed, Melush laughed too. He would have minded
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that at home, supposing that at home she had had the spirit to say
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it. It was a successful evening, Scrap. Whenever she looked at mister
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Wilkins, saw him in his towel dripping water, and felt indulgent. Missus
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Fisher was delighted with him. Rose was a dignified hostess in mister Wilkins's eyes,
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quiet and dignified, and he admired the way she waved her right to
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preside at the head of the table as a graceful compliment, of course,
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to Missus Fisher's age. Missus Arbuthnot was opining mister Wilkins naturally retiring. She
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was the most retiring of the three ladies. He had met her before dinner
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alone for a moment in the drawing room, and had expressed in appropriate language
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his sense of her kindness in wishing him to join her party, and she
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had been retiring. Was she shy? Probably she had blushed and murmured as
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if in deprecation, And then the others had come in at dinner she talked
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least. He would, of course become better acquainted with her during the next
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few days, and it would be a pleasure, he was sure. Meanwhile,
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Lady Caroline was all and more than all mister Wilkins had imagined, and
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had received his speeches, worked inskillfully between the courses gracefully. Missus Fisher was
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the exact old lady he had been hoping to come across all his professional life,
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and Lottie had not only immensely improved but was obviously amu mister Wilkins knew
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what was necessary in French with Lady Caroline. He had been much tormented during
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the day by the thought of how he had stood conversing with Lady Caroline forgetful
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of his not being dressed, and had at last written in her a note
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most deeply apologizing and beseeching her to overlook his amazing, his incomprehensible obliviousness,
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to which she had replied in pencil on the back of the envelope, don't
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worry. And he had obeyed her commands and had put it from him.
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The result was he was now in great contentment. Before going to sleep that
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night, he pinched his wife's ear. She was amazed these endearments. What
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is more, the morning brought no relapse in mister Wilkins, and he kept
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up to his high level throughout the day, in spite of its being the
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first day of the second week and therefore payday. It being pay day precipitated
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Lottie's confession, which she had, when it came to the point, been
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inclined to put off a little longer. She was not afraid she dared anything,
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but mellersh was insane. Such an admirable humor, Why risk clouding it
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just yet? When, however, soon after breakfast, Costanza appeared with a
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pile of very dirty little bits of paper covered with sums in pencil, and
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having knocked at missus Fisher's door and been sent away, and at Lady Caroline's
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door and been sent away, and at Rose's door, and had no answer
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because Rose had gone out. She waylaid Lottie, who was showing Millers over
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the house, and pointed to the bits of paper, and talked very rapidly
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and aloud, and shrugged her shoulders a great deal, and kept on pointing
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at the bits of paper. Lottie remembered that a week had passed without anybody
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paying anything to any one, and that the moment had come to settle up.
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Does this good lady want something, inquired mister Wilkins, millifluously, Money,
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said Lottie. Money. It's the housekeeping bill's Well, you have nothing
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to do with those, said mister Wilkins serenely, Oh yes I have.
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And the confession was precipitated. It was wonderful how Miller's took it. One
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would have imagined that his sole idea about the nest egg had always been that
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it should be lavished on. Just this, He did not, as he
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would have done at home, cross examine her. He accepted everything as it
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came pouring out about her, FIBs and all. And when she had finished
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and said, you have every right to be angry, I think, but
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I hope you won't be and will forgive me instead, he merely asked,
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what can be more beneficial than such a holiday? Whereupon she put her arm
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through his and held it tight, and said, oh, mlush, you
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really are sweet, Her face red with pride in him. That he should
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so quickly assimilate the atmosphere, that he should at once become nothing but kindness
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showed surely what a real affinity he had with good and beautiful things. He
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belonged quite naturally in this place of heavenly calm. He was extraordinary. How
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she had misjudged him by nature, a child of light. Fancy not minding
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the dreadful FIBs she had gone in for before leaving home, Fancy passing even
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those over without a comment. Wonderful, yet not wonderful, for wasn't he
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in heaven? In heaven, nobody minded any of those done with things One
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didn't even trouble to forgive and forget one was much too happy. She pressed
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his arm tight in her gratitude and appreciation, and though he did not withdraw
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his neither did he respond to her pressure. Mister Wilkins was of a cool
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habit and rarely had any real wish to press. Meanwhile, Costanza, perceiving
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that she had lost the Wilkinses ears, had gone back to missus Fisher,
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who at least understood Italian, besides being clearly in the servant's eyes, the
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one of the party marked down by age and appearance, to pay the bills
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and to her while missus Fisher put the final touches to her toilette, for
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she was preparing by means of putting on a hat and veil and feather boa
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and gloves to go for her first stroll in the lower Garden, positively her
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first since her arrival. She explained that unless she was given money to pay
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the last week's bills, the shops of Castanedo would refuse credit for the current
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week's food. Not even credit would they give, affirmed Caste Danza, who
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had been spending a great deal and was anxious to pay all her relations what
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was owed them, and also to find out how her mistresses took it for
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that day's meals. Soon it would be the hour of colision, and how
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could there be colision without meat, without fish, without eggs, without missus
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Fisher took the bills out of her hand and looked at the total. She
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was so much astonished by its size, so much horrified by the extravagant to
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which it testified, that she sat down at her writing table to go into
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the thing thoroughly. Costanza had a very bad half hour. She had not
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supposed it was in the English to be so mercenary and then Leavecchia, as
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she was called in the kitchen, knew so much Italian, and with a
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doggedness that filled Costanza with shame on her behalf, for such conduct was the
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last one expected from the noble English. She went through item after item,
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requiring and persisting till she got them explanations. There were no explanations except that
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Costanza had had a glorious week of doing exactly as she chose, of splendid
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unbridled license, and that this was the result. Costanza, having no explanations,
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wept. It was miserable to think she would have to cook from now
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on, under watchfulness, under suspicion. And what would her relations say when
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they found the orders they received were whittled down. They would say she had
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no influence, They would despise her. Costanza wept, but missus Fisher was
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unmoved. In slow and splendid Italian, with the roll of the cantos of
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the inferno, she informed her that she would pay no bills till the following
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week, and that meanwhile the food was to be precisely as good as ever,
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and at a quarter the cost. Costanza threw up her hands. Next
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week proceeded missus Fisher, unmoved. If she found this had been so,
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she would pay the whole. Otherwise she paused for what she would do otherwise,
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She did not know herself, But she paused and looked impenetrable, majestic
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and menacing, and Costanza was cowed. Then missus Fisher, having dismissed her
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with the gesture, went in search of Lady Caroline to complain. She had
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been under the impression that Lady Caroline ordered the meals and therefore was responsible for
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the prices, But now it appeared that the cook had been left to do
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exactly as she pleased ever since they got there, which of course was simply
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disgraceful. Scrap was not in her bedroom, but the room on missus Fisher's
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opening the door, for she suspected of her being in it, and only
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pretending not to hear. The knock was still flower like from her presence scent
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sniffed Missus Fisher, shutting it again, and she wished Carlyle could have had
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five minutes straight talk with this young woman, and yet perhaps even he.
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She went downstairs to go into the garden in search of her, and in
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the hall encountered mister Wilkins. He had his hat on and was lighting a
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cigar. Indulgent as missus Fisher felt towards mister Wilkins, and peculiarly and even
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mystically related after the previous morning's encounter. She yet could not like a cigar
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in the house out of doors. She endured it, but it was not
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necessary when out of doors was such a big place to indulge the habit indoors.
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Even mister Fisher, who had been, she should say, a man
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originally tenacious of habits, had quite soon after marriage, got out of this
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one. However, mister Wilkins, snatching off his hat on seeing her,
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instantly threw the cigar away. He threw it into the water, a great
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jar of arum lilies presumably contained, and Missus Fisher, aware of the value
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men attached to their newly lit cigars, could not be but impressed by this
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immediate and magnificent amond novrable. But the cigar did not reach the water.
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It got caught in the lilies and smoked on by itself among them. A
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strange and depraved looking object. Where are you going to my print? Began
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mister Wilkins, advancing towards missus Fisher, but he broke off just in time.
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Was it morning spirits, impelling him to address missus Fisher in the terms
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of a nursery rhyme. He wasn't even aware that he knew the thing,
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saying, most strange, what could have put it at such a moment into
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his self possessed head. He felt great respect for missus Fisher, and would
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not for the world have insulted her by addressing her as a maid pretty or
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otherwise. He wished to stand well with her. She was a woman of
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parts, and also he suspected of property at breakfast. They had been most
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pleasant together, and he had been struck by her apparent intimacy with well known
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persons Victorians, of course, but it was RESTful to talk about them.
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After the strain of his brother in law's Georgian parties on Hampstead Heath. He
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and she were getting on famously. He felt she already showed all the symptoms
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of presently wishing to become a client. Not for the world would he offend
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her. He turned a little cold at the narrowness of his escape. She
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had not, however, noticed you are going out, he said, very
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politely, all readiness should she confirm his assumption to accompany her. I want
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to find Lady Caroline, said missus Fisher, going towards the glass door leading
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into the top garden. An agreeable quest, remarked mister Wilkins. May I
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assist in the search? Allow me, he added, opening the door for
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her. She usually sits over in that corner behind the bushes, said missus
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Fisher. And I don't know about it being an agreeable quest. She has
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been letting the bills run up in a most terrible fashion and needs a good
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scolding. Lady Caroline, said mister Wilkins unable to follow such an attitude.
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What has lady Caroline, if I may inquire to do with the bills here?
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The housekeeping was left to her, and as we all share al like,
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it ought to have been a matter of honor with her. But Lady
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Caroline, housekeeping for the party here, a party which includes my wife,
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My dear lady. You render me speechless? Do you not know she is
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the daughter of the Droit Witches? Oh? Is that who she is?
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Said Missus Fisher, scrunching heavily over the pebbles toward the hidden corner. Well,
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that accounts for it. The muddle fat man Droit Witch made in his
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department in the war was a national scandal. It amounted to misappropriation of the
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public funds. But it is impossible, I assure you to expect the daughter
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of the Droit Witches, began mister Wilkins earnestly. The Droit Witches, interrupted,
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Missus Fisher, are neither here nor there. Duties undertaken should be performed.
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I don't intend my money to be squandered for the sake of any Droit
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witches. A headstrong old lady perhaps not so easy to do with as he
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had hoped, but how wealthy. Only the consciousness of great wealth would make
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her snap her fingers in this manner. At the Droit Witches, Lottie,
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on being questioned, had been vague about her circumstances, and had described her
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house as a mausoleum with goldfish swimming about in it. But now he was
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sure she was more than very well off. Still, he wished she had
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not joined her at this moment, for he had no sort of desire to
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be present at such a spectacle as the scolding of Lady Caroline Dester. Again,
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however, he was reckoning without scrap. Whatever she felt. When she
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looked up and beheld mister Wilkins discovering her corner on that very first morning,
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nothing but angelicness appeared on her face. She took her feet off the parapet
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on missus Fisher's, sitting down on it and listening gravely to her opening remarks
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as to her not having any money to fling about in reckless and uncontrolled household
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expenditure. Interrupted her floe by pulling one of the cushions from behind her head
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and offering it to her sit on this said scrap, holding it out you'll
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be more comfortable, mister Wilkins leapt to relieve her of it. Oh,
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thanks, said missus Fisher, interrupted, it was difficult to get into the
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swing. Again, mister Wilkins inserted the cushion solicitously between the slightly raised Missus
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Fisher and the stone of the parapet, and again she had to say thanks.
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It was interrupted. Besides, Lady Caroline said nothing in her defense.
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She only looked at her and listened with the face of an attentive angel.
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It seemed to mister Wilkins that it must be difficult to scold the dester who
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looked like that and so exquisitely said nothing. Missus Fisher, he was glad
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to see, gradually found it difficult herself. For her severity slackened, and
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she ended by saying, lamely, you ought to have told me you were
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not doing it. I didn't know you thought I was, said the lovely
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voice. I would now like to know, said missus Fisher, what you
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propose to do for the rest of the time here? Nothing, said scrap
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smiling, Nothing do you mean to say? If I may be allowed?
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Ladies, interposed mister Wilkins, in his suavest professional manner to make a suggestion.
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They both looked at him, and, remembering him as they first saw
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him, felt indulgent. I would advise you not to spoil a delightful holiday
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with your worries over housekeeping, exactly, said missus Fisher. It is what
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I intend to avoid. Most sensible, said mister Wilkins. Why not,
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then, he continued, Allow the cook an excellent cook, by the way,
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so much ahead, per diem. Mister Wilkins knew what was necessary in
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Latin, and tell her that for this sum she must cater for you,
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and not only Kater, but Kater as well as ever one could easily reckon
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it out. The charges of a moderate hotel, for instance, would do
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as a basis have or perhaps even quartered. And this week that has just
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passed, asked missus Fisher. The terrible bills of this first week, what
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about them? They shall be my present to Sen Salvatry, said Scrap,
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who didn't like the idea of Lotty's nest egg being reduced so much beyond what
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she was prepared for. There was a silence. The ground was cut from
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under missus Fisher's feet. Of course, you may choose to throw your money
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about, she said at last, disapprovingly, but immensely relieved, while mister
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Wilkins was wrapped in the contemplation of the precious qualities of blue blood. This
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readiness, for instance, not to trouble about money, this free handedness,
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It was not only what one admired in others admired in others, perhaps more
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than anything else, but it was extraordinarily useful to the professional classes. When
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met with it should be encouraged by warmth of reception. Missus Fisher was not
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warm she accepted, from which he deduced that with her wealth went closeness.
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But she accepted grudgingly. Presents were presents, and one did not look them
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in this manner in the mouth, he felt. And if Lady Caroline found
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her pleasure in presenting his wife and Missus Fisher with their entire food for a
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week, it was their part to accept gracefully. One should not discourage gifts
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on behalf of his wife. Then mister Wilkins expressed what she would wish to
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express, and remarking to Lady Caroline with a touch of lightness, for so
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should gifts be accepted in order to avoid embarrassing the donor, that she had,
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in that case been his wife's hostess since her arrival. He turned almost
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gaily to missus Fisher and pointed out that she and his wife must now jointly
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write Lady Caroline the customary letter of thanks for hospitality, a Collins, said
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mister Wilkins, who knew what was necessary in literature, I prefer the name
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Collins for such a letter to either that of board or lodging or bread and
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butter. Let us call it a Collins scrap, smiled and held out her
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cigarette case. Missus Fisher could not help being mollified. A way out of
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waste was going to be found, thanks to mister Wilkins, and she hated
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waste quite as much having to pay for it. Also, a way was
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found out of housekeeping. For a moment, she had thought that if everybody
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tried to force her into housekeeping on her brief holiday by their own indifference Lady
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Caroline or inability to speak Italian the other two, she would have to send
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for Kate Lumley. After all, Kate could do it. Kate and she
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had learnt Italian together. Kate would only be allowed to come on the condition
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that she did do it. But this was much better this way of mister
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Wilkinson's really a most superior man. There was nothing like an intelligent, not
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too young man for profitable and pleasurable companionship. When she got up, the
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business for which she had come being settled, and she said now intended to
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take a little stroll before lunch. Mister Wilkins did not stay with Lady Cake
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Caroline, as most of the men she had known would. She was afraid
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have wanted to. He asked to be permitted to go and stroll with her,
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so that he evidently definitely preferred conversation to faces. A sensible companionable man,
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a clever, well read man, a man of the world, a
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man she was very glad. Indeed, she had not written to Kate the
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other day. What did she want with Kate? She had found a better
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companion. But mister Wilkins did not go with missus Fisher because of her conversation,
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but because when she got up and he got up, because she got
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up intending merely to bow her out of the recess. Lady Caroline had put
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her feet up on the parapet again, and arranging her head sideways in the
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cushions, had shut her eyes the daughter of the Droit witches, desired to
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go to sleep. It was not for him by remaining to prevent her.
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End of Chapter fifteen,