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Page 77
With the third, with Mrs. Arbuthnot, he had up to this made least
headway, for she was so very retiring and quiet. But might not this
very retiringness, this tendency to avoid the others and spend her time
alone, indicate that she too was troubled? If so, he was her man. He
would cultivate her. He would follow her and sit with her, and
encourage her to tell him about herself. Arbuthnot, he understood from
Lotty, was a British Museum official--nothing specially important at
present, but Mr. Wilkins regarded it as his business to know all sorts
and kinds. Besides, there was promotion. Arbuthnot, promoted, might
become very much worth while.
As for Lotty, she was charming. She really had all the qualities
he had credited her with during his courtship, and they had been, it
appeared, merely in abeyance since. His early impressions of her were
now being endorsed by the affection and even admiration Lady Caroline
showed for her. Lady Caroline Dester was the last person, he was sure,
to be mistaken on such a subject. Her knowledge of the world, her
constant association with only the best, must make her quite unerring.
Lotty was evidently, then, that which before marriage he had believed
her to be--she was valuable. She certainly had been most valuable in
introducing him to Lady Caroline and Mrs. Fisher. A man in his
profession could be immensely helped by a clever and attractive wife.
Why had she not been attractive sooner? Why this sudden flowering?
Mr. Wilkins began too to believe there was something peculiar, as
Lotty had almost at once informed him, in the atmosphere of San
Salvatore. It promoted expansion. It brought out dormant qualities.
And feeling more and more pleased, and even charmed, by his wife, and
very content with the progress he was making with the two others, and
hopeful of progress to be made with the retiring third, Mr. Wilkins
could not remember ever having had such an agreeable holiday. The only
thing that might perhaps be bettered was the way they would call him
Mr. Wilkins. Nobody said Mr. Mellersh-Wilkins. Yet he had introduced
himself to Lady Caroline--he flinched a little on remembering the
circumstances--as Mellersh-Wilkins.
Still, this was a small matter, not enough to worry about. He
would be foolish if in such a place and such society he worried about
anything. He was not even worrying about what the holiday was costing,
and had made up his mind to pay not only his own expenses but his
wife's as well, and surprise her at the end by presenting her with her
nest-egg as intact as when she started; and just the knowledge that he
was preparing a happy surprise for her made him feel warmer than ever
towards her.
In fact Mr. Wilkins, who had begun by being consciously and
according to plan on his best behaviour, remained on it unconsciously,
and with no effort at all.
And meanwhile the beautiful golden days were dropping gently from
the second week one by one, equal in beauty with those of the first,
and the scent of beanfields in flower on the hillside behind the
village came across to San Salvatore whenever the air moved. In the
garden that second week the poet's eyed narcissus disappeared out the
long grass at the edge of the zigzag path, and wild gladiolus, slender
and rose-coloured, came in their stead, white pinks bloomed in the
borders, filing the whole place with their smoky-sweet smell, and a
bush nobody had noticed burst into glory and fragrance, and it was a
purple lilac bush. Such a jumble of spring and summer was not to be
believed in, except by those who dwelt in those gardens. Everything
seemed to be out together--all the things crowded into one month which
in England are spread penuriously over six. Even primroses were found
one day by Mrs. Wilkins in a cold corner up in the hills; and when she
brought them down to the geraniums and heliotrope of San Salvatore they
looked quite shy.
Chapter 17
On the first day of the third week Rose wrote to Frederick.
In case she should again hesitate and not post the letter, she
gave it to Domenico to post; for if she did not write now there would
be no time left at all. Half the month at San Salvatore was over.
Even if Frederick started directly he got the letter, which of course
he wouldn't be able to do, what with packing and passport, besides not
being in a hurry to come, he couldn't arrive for five days.
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