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Page 71
That was Dicky's opportunity for restraint and submission, but he seemed
to have been physically unable to take it. He rushed, instead, blindly
to perdition. "I don't believe that yarn," he said.
There was a moment's awful silence, during which Dicky said he counted
his heart-beats and felt as if he had announced himself an atheist or a
Jew, and then his sentence fell.
"In that case, Mr. Dod, I must infer that you are opposed to the
doctrine of the complete inspiration of Holy Writ. If you do not believe
in that, I shudder to think of what you may not believe in. I will say
no more now, but after dinner I will be obliged to speak to you for a
few minutes, privately. Thank you, I can get out without assistance."
And after dinner, privately, Dicky learned that Mrs. Portheris had for
some time been seriously considering the effect of his, to her,
painfully flippant views, upon the opening mind of her daughter--the
child had only been out six months--and that his distressing
announcement of this morning left her in no further doubt as to her
path of duty. She would always endeavour to have as kindly a
recollection of him as possible, he had really been very obliging, but
for the present she must ask him to make some other travelling
arrangements. Cook, she believed, would always change one's tickets less
ten per cent., but she would leave that to Dicky. And she hoped, she
_sincerely_ hoped, that time would improve his views. When that was
accomplished she trusted he would write and tell her, but not before.
"And while I'm getting good and ready to pass an examination in Noah,
Jonah, and Methuselah," remarked Dicky bitterly, as we discussed the
situation on the Lungarno for the seventh time that day, "Mafferton
sails in."
"Why didn't you tell her plainly that you wanted to marry Isabel, and
would brook no opposition?" I demanded, for my stock of sympathy was
getting low.
"Now that's a valuable suggestion, isn't it?" returned Mr. Dod with
sarcasm. "Good old psychological moment that was, wasn't it? Talk about
girls having tact! Besides, I've never told Isabel herself yet, and I'm
not the American to give in to the effete and decaying custom of asking
a girl's poppa, or momma if it's a case of widow, first. Not Richard
Dod."
"What on earth," I exclaimed, "have you been doing all this time?"
"Now go slow, Mamie, and don't look at me like that. I've been trying to
make her acquainted with me--explaining the kind of fellow I
am--getting solid with her. See?"
"Showing her the beauties of your character!" I exclaimed derisively.
"I said something about the defects, too," said Dicky modestly, "though
not so much. And I was getting on beautifully, though it isn't so easy
with an English girl. They don't seem to think it's proper to analyse
your character. They're so maidenly."
"And so unenterprising," I said, but I said it to myself.
"Isabel was actually beginning to _lead up to the subject_," Dicky went
on. "She asked me the other day if it was true that all American men
were flirts. In another week I should have felt that she would know what
was proposing to her."
"And you were going to wait another week?"
"Well, a man wants every advantage," said Dicky blandly.
"Did you explain to Isabel that you were only joining our party in the
hope of meeting her accidentally soon again?"
"What else," asked he in pained surprise, "should I have joined it for?
No, I didn't; I hadn't the chance, for one thing. You took the first
train back to Rome next morning, you know. She wasn't up."
"True," I responded. "Momma said not another hour of her husband's Aunt
Caroline would she ever willingly endure. She said she would spend her
entire life, if necessary, in avoiding the woman." But Dicky had not
followed the drift of my thought.
I added vaguely, "I hope she will understand it"--I really couldn't be
more definite--and bade Mr. Dod good-night. He held my hand
absent-mindedly for a moment, and mentioned the effectiveness of the
Ponte Vecchio from that point of view.
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