a room with a view-第5章

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the　Annunziata　and　saw　in　the　living　terra…cotta　those　divine

babies　whom　no　cheap　reproduction　can　ever　stale。　There　they

stood；　with　their　shining　limbs　bursting　from　the　garments　of

charity；　and　their　strong　white　arms　extended　against　circlets　of

heaven。　Lucy　thought　she　had　never　seen　anything　more　beautiful；

but　Miss　Lavish；　with　a　shriek　of　dismay；　dragged　her　forward；

declaring　that　they　were　out　of　their　path　now　by　at　least　a

mile。



The　hour　was　approaching　at　which　the　continental　breakfast

begins；　or　rather　ceases；　to　tell；　and　the　ladies　bought　some　hot

chestnut　paste　out　of　a　little　shop；　because　it　looked　so

typical。　It　tasted　partly　of　the　paper　in　which　it　was　wrapped；

partly　of　hair　oil；　partly　of　the　great　unknown。　But　it　gave　them

strength　to　drift　into　another　Piazza；　large　and　dusty；　on　the

farther　side　of　which　rose　a　black…and…white　facade　of　surpassing

ugliness。　Miss　Lavish　spoke　to　it　dramatically。　It　was　Santa

Croce。　The　adventure　was　over。



〃Stop　a　minute；　let　those　two　people　go　on；　or　I　shall　have　to

speak　to　them。　I　do　detest　conventional　intercourse。　Nasty！　they

are　going　into　the　church；　too。　Oh；　the　Britisher　abroad！〃



〃We　sat　opposite　them　at　dinner　last　night。　They　have　given　us

their　rooms。　They　were　so　very　kind。〃



〃Look　at　their　figures！〃　laughed　Miss　Lavish。　〃They　walk　through

my　Italy　like　a　pair　of　cows。　It's　very　naughty　of　me；　but　I

would　like　to　set　an　examination　paper　at　Dover；　and　turn　back

every　tourist　who　couldn't　pass　it。〃



〃What　would　you　ask　us？〃



Miss　Lavish　laid　her　hand　pleasantly　on　Lucy's　arm；　as　if　to

suggest　that　she；　at　all　events；　would　get　full　marks。　In　this

exalted　mood　they　reached　the　steps　of　the　great　church；　and　were

about　to　enter　it　when　Miss　Lavish　stopped；　squeaked；　flung　up

her　arms；　and　cried：



〃There　goes　my　local…colour　box！　I　must　have　a　word　with　him！〃



And　in　a　moment　she　was　away　over　the　Piazza；　her　military　cloak

flapping　in　the　wind；　nor　did　she　slacken　speed　till　she　caught

up　an　old　man　with　white　whiskers；　and　nipped　him　playfully　upon

the　arm。



Lucy　waited　for　nearly　ten　minutes。　Then　she　began　to　get　tired。

The　beggars　worried　her；　the　dust　blew　in　her　eyes；　and　she

remembered　that　a　young　girl　ought　not　to　loiter　in　public

places。　She　descended　slowly　into　the　Piazza　with　the　intention

of　rejoining　Miss　Lavish；　who　was　really　almost　too　original。　But

at　that　moment　Miss　Lavish　and　her　local…colour　box　moved　also；

and　disappeared　down　a　side　street；　both　gesticulating　largely。

Tears　of　indignation　came　to　Lucy's　eyes　partly　because　Miss

Lavish　had　jilted　her；　partly　because　she　had　taken　her　Baedeker。

How　could　she　find　her　way　home？　How　could　she　find　her　way　about

in　Santa　Croce？　Her　first　morning　was　ruined；　and　she　might　never

be　in　Florence　again。　A　few　minutes　ago　she　had　been　all　high

spirits；　talking　as　a　woman　of　culture；　and　half　persuading

herself　that　she　was　full　of　originality。　Now　she　entered　the

church　depressed　and　humiliated；　not　even　able　to　remember

whether　it　was　built　by　the　Franciscans　or　the　Dominicans。

Of　course；　it　must　be　a　wonderful　building。　But　how　like　a　barn！

And　how　very　cold！　Of　course；　it　contained　frescoes　by　Giotto；　in

the　presence　of　whose　tactile　values　she　was　capable　of　feeling

what　was　proper。　But　who　was　to　tell　her　which　they　were？　She

walked　about　disdainfully；　unwilling　to　be　enthusiastic　over

monuments　of　uncertain　authorship　or　date。　There　was　no　one　even

to　tell　her　which；　of　all　the　sepulchral　slabs　that　paved　the

nave　and　transepts；　was　the　one　that　was　really　beautiful；　the

one　that　had　been　most　praised　by　Mr。　Ruskin。



Then　the　pernicious　charm　of　Italy　worked　on　her；　and；　instead　of

acquiring　information；　she　began　to　be　happy。　She　puzzled　out　the

Italian　noticesthe　notices　that　forbade　people　to　introduce

dogs　into　the　churchthe　notice　that　prayed　people；　in　the

interest　of　health　and　out　of　respect　to　the　sacred　edifice　in

which　they　found　themselves；　not　to　spit。　She　watched　the

tourists；　their　noses　were　as　red　as　their　Baedekers；　so　cold　was

Santa　Croce。　She　beheld　the　horrible　fate　that　overtook　three

Papiststwo　he…babies　and　a　she…babywho　began　their　career　by

sousing　each　other　with　the　Holy　Water；　and　then　proceeded　to　the

Machiavelli　memorial；　dripping　but　hallowed。　Advancing　towards　it

very　slowly　and　from　immense　distances；　they　touched　the　stone

with　their　fingers；　with　their　handkerchiefs；　with　their　heads；

and　then　retreated。　What　could　this　mean？　They　did　it　again　and

again。　Then　Lucy　realized　that　they　had　mistaken　Machiavelli　for

some　saint；　hoping　to　acquire　virtue。　Punishment　followed

quickly。　The　smallest　he…baby　stumbled　over　one　of　the　sepulchral

slabs　so　much　admired　by　Mr。　Ruskin；　and　entangled　his　feet　in

the　features　of　a　recumbent　bishop。　Protestant　as　she　was；　Lucy

darted　forward。　She　was　too　late。　He　fell　heavily　upon　the

prelate's　upturned　toes。



〃Hateful　bishop！〃　exclaimed　the　voice　of　old　Mr。　Emerson；　who　had

darted　forward　also。　〃Hard　in　life；　hard　in　death。　Go　out　into

the　sunshine；　little　boy；　and　kiss　your　hand　to　the　sun；　for　that

is　where　you　ought　to　be。　Intolerable　bishop！〃



The　child　screamed　frantically　at　these　words；　and　at　these

dreadful　people　who　picked　him　up；　dusted　him；　rubbed　his

bruises；　and　told　him　not　to　be　superstitious。



〃Look　at　him！〃　said　Mr。　Emerson　to　Lucy。　〃Here's　a　mess：　a　baby

hurt；　cold；　and　frightened！　But　what　else　can　you　expect　from　a

church？〃



The　child's　legs　had　become　as　melting　wax。　Each　time　that　old

Mr。　Emerson　and　Lucy　set　it　erect　it　collapsed　with　a　roar。

Fortunately　an　Italian　lady；　who　ought　to　have　been　saying　her

prayers；　came　to　the　rescue。　By　some　mysterious　virtue；　which

mothers　alone　possess；　she　stiffened　the　little　boy's　back…bone

and　imparted　strength　to　his　knees。　He　stood。　Still　gibbering

with　agitation；　he　walked　away。



〃You　are　a　clever　woman；〃　said　Mr。　Emerson。　〃You　have　done　more

than　all　the　relics　in　the　world。　I　am　not　of　your　creed；　but　I

do　believe　in　those　who　make　their　fellow…creatures　happy。　There

is　no　scheme　of　the　universe〃



He　paused　for　a　phrase。



〃Niente；〃　said　the　Italian　lady；　and　returned　to　her　prayers。



〃I'm　not　sure　she　understands　English；〃　suggested　Lucy。



In　her　chastened　mood　she　no　longer　despised　the　Emersons。　She

was　determined　to　be　gracious　to　them；　beautiful　rather　than

delicate；　and；　if　possible；　to　erase　Miss　Bartlett's　civility　by

some　gracious　reference　to　the　pleasant　rooms。



〃That　woman　understands　everything；〃　was　Mr。　Emerson's　reply。

〃But　what　are　you　doing　here？　Are　you　doing　the　church？　Are　you

through　with　the　church？〃



〃No；〃　cried　Lucy；　remembering　her　grievance。　〃I　came　here　with

Miss　Lavish；　who　was　to　explain　everything；　and　just　by　the　door

it　is　too　bad！she　simply　ran　away；　and　after　waiting　quite　a

time；　I　had　to　come　in　by　myself。〃



〃Why　shouldn't　you？〃　said　Mr。　Emerson。



〃Yes；　why　shouldn't　you　come　by　yourself？〃　said　the　son；

addressing　the　young　lady　for　the　first　time。



〃But　Miss　Lavish　has　even　taken　away　Baedeker。〃



〃Baedeker？〃　said　Mr。　Emerson。　〃I'm　glad　it's　THAT　you　minded。

It's　worth　minding；　the　loss　of　a　Baedeker。　THAT'S　worth

minding。〃



Lucy　was　puzzled。　She　was　again　conscious　of　some　new　idea；　and

was　not　sure　whither　it　would　lead　her。



〃If　you've　no　Baedeker；〃　said　the　son；　〃you'd　better　join　us。〃

Was　this　where　the　idea　would　lead？　She　took　refuge　in　her

dignity。



〃Thank　you　very　much；　but　I　could　not　think　of　that。　I　hope　you

do　not　suppose　that　I　came　to　join　on　to　you。　I　really　came　to

help　with　the　child；　and　to　thank　you　for　so　kindly　giving　us

your　rooms　last　night。　I　hope　that　you　have　not　been　put　to　any

great　inconvenience。〃



〃My　dear；〃　said　the　old　man　gently；　〃I　think　that　you　are

repeating　what　you　have　heard　older　people　say。　You