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She had, I believe, the usual allowance of vulgar impulses: she wished to be looked at, she wished to be married, she wished to be thought original. It costs me something to speak in this irreverent manner of Mark Ambient's sister, but I shall have still more disagreeable things to say before I have finished my little anecdote, and moreover, I confess it, I owe the young lady a sort of grudge.
Everything was full of expression for Mark Ambient's visitor, from the big, bandy-legged geese, whose whiteness was a "note," amid all the tones of green, as they wandered beside a neat little oval pool, the foreground of a thatched and whitewashed inn, with a grassy approach and a pictorial sign, from these humble wayside animals to the crests of high woods which let a gable or a pinnacle peep here and there, and looked, even at a distance, like trees of good company, conscious of an individual profile.
She agreed with me that there was misery enough in the house without her contributing a new anguish, and that Mrs. Ambient's proceedings might be explained, to her husband's mind, by the extravagance of a jealous devotion. Poor Mark came back with the Doctor much sooner than we could have hoped, but we knew five minutes afterwards that it was all too late.
She thinks them undesirable." Being quite fresh from the contemplation of some of Mark Ambient's arcana, I was particularly in a position to appreciate this announcement. But the effect of it was to make me, after staring a moment, burst into laughter, which I instantly checked when I remembered that there was a sick child above. "What has that infant to do with ideas?"
This proved how little I knew as yet of the English people and their extraordinary talent for keeping up their forms, as well as of some of the mysteries of Mark Ambient's hearth and home.
Miss Ambient asked me if I had enjoyed my walk with her brother, and whether we had talked of many things. "Well, of most things," I said, smiling, though I remembered that we had not talked of Miss Ambient. "And don't you think some of his theories are very peculiar?" "Oh, I guess I agree with them all." I was very particular, for Miss Ambient's entertainment, to guess.
"I can tell you that better when you've told me about her point of view." "Oh yes oh yes. Well," said my entertainer, "she doesn't like his ideas. She doesn't like them for the child. She thinks them undesirable." Being quite fresh from the contemplation of some of Mark Ambient's arcana I was particularly in a position to appreciate this announcement.
I begged Miss Ambient to go up and try to have speech of her sister- in-law, and I drew Mark out into the garden. "You're exceedingly nervous, and Mrs. Ambient's probably right," I there undertook to plead. "Women know; women should be supreme in such a situation. Trust a mother a devoted mother, my dear friend!"
London in short was grotesque to him, and he made capital sport of it; his only allusion that I can remember to his own work was his saying that he meant some day to do an immense and general, a kind of epic, social satire. Miss Ambient's perpetual gaze seemed to put to me: "Do you perceive how artistic, how very strange and interesting, we are?
"He's very precocious and very sensitive, and his mother thinks she can't begin to guard him too early." Miss Ambient's head drooped a little to one side and her eyes fixed themselves on futurity.
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