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He mused a while before he added: "No wonder Mrs. Rivers was determined to come aboard! I wish we had let her, confound her! She'll think I was ashamed of it. There's nothing to be ashamed of! By Heaven, I should like to hear any one " Staniford broke off, and laughed, and then bit his lip, smiling. Suddenly he burst out again, frowning: "I won't view it in that light.
The foreboded storm did not come so soon as had been feared, but the beautiful weather which had lasted so long was lost in a thickened sky and a sullen sea. The weather had changed with Staniford, too. The morning after the events last celebrated, he did not respond to the glance which Lydia gave him when they met, and he hardened his heart to her surprise, and shunned being alone with her.
It was quite dark when they drove on to the wharf at which the boat for Venice lay. When they arrived, a plan had occurred to Staniford, through the timidity which had already succeeded the boldness of his desperation. "Dunham," he said, "I want you to go on board, and see if she's there. I don't think I could stand not finding her.
They were wakeful after their long nap in the afternoon, and they walked and talked late, with the silences that old friends can permit themselves. Staniford recurred to his loss of money and his Western projects, which took more definite form now that he had placed so much distance between himself and their fulfillment.
My depraved spirit instantly recognized the dawning duplicity of yours. But you'd better be honest. You can't make the other thing work. What do you want?" "I want your advice. I want your help, Staniford." "I thought so! Coming and forgiving me in that apostolic manner." "Don't!" "Well. What do you want my help for? What have you been doing?"
Now you come!" "What do you say, my dear?" asked Staniford, on whom the poetic fitness of the captain's proposal had wrought. Women are never blinded by romance, however much they like it in the abstract. "It's coming winter. Do you think you wouldn't be seasick?" returned the bride of an hour, with the practical wisdom of a matron. Staniford laughed. "She's right, captain. I'm no sailor.
"No, no!" she said, still in his mood. "Well, you must allow it was a pretty speech." "Perhaps," said Lydia, with sudden gravity, in which there seemed to Staniford a tender insinuation of reproach, "he was laughing at her." "If he was, he was properly punished. He went on to Rome, and when he came back to Venice the beautiful nun was dead.
"I've heard that there are ladies who blush for nothing." "Is she Italian?" "Yes, in voice." "Oh, an American prima donna!" Staniford did not answer. "Who is she? Where is she from?" "South Bradfield, Mass." Staniford's eyes twinkled at her pursuit, which he did not trouble himself to turn aside, but baffled by mere impenetrability.
"Why did I come?" "Was it because you felt bound by anything that's happened, and you wouldn't let me bear the laugh alone? I'm not afraid for myself. I shall never blame you. You can go perfectly free." "But I don't want to go free!" Lydia looked at him with piercing earnestness. "Do you think I'm proud?" she asked. "Yes, I think you are," said Staniford, vaguely.
"Do you suppose I can offer myself in the salle d'attente?" sneered Staniford. But he went with Dunham to the coffee-room, where they found the Osservatore Triestino and the time-table of the railroad. The last train left for Venice at ten, and it was now seven; the Austrian Lloyd steamer for Venice sailed at nine. "Pshaw!" said Staniford, and pushed the paper away.
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