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Page 61
"Her duty!" cried Miss Abbott, with all the bitterness
of which she was capable.
"Why, of course. She knows why I am marrying her."
"To succeed where Lilia failed! To be your housekeeper,
your slave, you--" The words she would like to have said
were too violent for her.
"To look after the baby, certainly," said he.
"The baby--?" She had forgotten it.
"It is an English marriage," he said proudly. "I do not
care about the money. I am having her for my son. Did you
not understand that?"
"No," said Miss Abbott, utterly bewildered. Then, for a
moment, she saw light. "It is not necessary, Signor
Carella. Since you are tired of the baby--"
Ever after she remembered it to her credit that she saw
her mistake at once. "I don't mean that," she added quickly.
"I know," was his courteous response. "Ah, in a foreign
language (and how perfectly you speak Italian) one is
certain to make slips."
She looked at his face. It was apparently innocent of satire.
"You meant that we could not always be together yet, he
and I. You are right. What is to be done? I cannot afford
a nurse, and Perfetta is too rough. When he was ill I dare
not let her touch him. When he has to be washed, which
happens now and then, who does it? I. I feed him, or settle
what he shall have. I sleep with him and comfort him when
he is unhappy in the night. No one talks, no one may sing
to him but I. Do not be unfair this time; I like to do these
things. But nevertheless (his voice became pathetic) they
take up a great deal of time, and are not all suitable for a
young man."
"Not at all suitable," said Miss Abbott, and closed her
eyes wearily. Each moment her difficulties were
increasing. She wished that she was not so tired, so open
to contradictory impressions. She longed for Harriet's
burly obtuseness or for the soulless diplomacy of Mrs. Herriton.
"A little more wine?" asked Gino kindly.
"Oh, no, thank you! But marriage, Signor Carella, is a
very serious step. Could you not manage more simply? Your
relative, for example--"
"Empoli! I would as soon have him in England!"
"England, then--"
He laughed.
"He has a grandmother there, you know--Mrs. Theobald."
"He has a grandmother here. No, he is troublesome, but
I must have him with me. I will not even have my father and
mother too. For they would separate us," he added.
"How?"
"They would separate our thoughts."
She was silent. This cruel, vicious fellow knew of
strange refinements. The horrible truth, that wicked people
are capable of love, stood naked before her, and her moral
being was abashed. It was her duty to rescue the baby, to
save it from contagion, and she still meant to do her duty.
But the comfortable sense of virtue left her. She was in
the presence of something greater than right or wrong.
Forgetting that this was an interview, he had strolled
back into the room, driven by the instinct she had aroused
in him. "Wake up!" he cried to his baby, as if it was some
grown-up friend. Then he lifted his foot and trod lightly
on its stomach.
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