IV
"I beg your pardon. It's disgraceful you should have been made to wait.The porter is an idiot. You wish, of course, to see the house--?"
The English words, on a key of spontaneous apology, with a very zealousinflection of concern--yet, at the same time, with a kind of entirelyrespectful and amiable abruptness, as of one hailing a familiarfriend,--were pronounced in a breath by a brisk, cheerful, unmistakablyEnglish voice.
Lady Blanchemain, whose attention had still been on the incriminatedpage, looked quickly up, and (English voice and spontaneous apologynotwithstanding) I won't vouch that the answer at the tip of herimpulsive tongue mightn't have proved a hasty one--but the speaker'sappearance gave her pause: the appearance of the tall, smiling,unmistakably English young man, by whom Shoulder-knots had returnedaccompanied, and who now, having pushed the grille ajar and issuedforth, stood, placing himself with a tentative obeisance at her service,beside the carriage: he was so clearly, first of all--what, if it hadn'tbeen for her preoccupation, his voice, tone, accent would have warnedher to expect--so visibly a gentleman; and then, with the even pink ofhis complexion, his yellowish hair and beard, his alert, friendly, veryblue blue eyes--with his very blue blue flannels too, and his brick-redknitted tie--he was so vivid and so unusual.
His appearance gave her a pause; and in the result she in her turnalmost apologized.
"This wretched book," she explained, pathetically bringing forward her_piece justificative_, "said that it was open to the public."
The vivid young man hastened to put her in the right.
"It is--it _is_," he eagerly affirmed. "Only," he added, with a vaguelyrueful modulation, and always with that amiable abruptness, as a manvery much at his ease, while his blue eyes whimsically brightened, "onlythe blessed public never comes--we're so off the beaten path. And Isuppose one mustn't expect a Scioccone"--his voice swelled on the word,and he cast sidelong a scathing glance at his summoner--"to cope withunprecedented situations. Will you allow me to help you out?"
"Ah," thought Lady Blanchemain, "Eton," his tone and accent now nicelyappraised by an experienced ear. "Eton--yes; and probably--h'm? ProbablyBalliol," her experience led her further to surmise. But what--with herinsatiable curiosity about people, she had of course immediately begunto wonder--what was an Eton and Balliol man doing, apparently in aposition of authority, at this remote Italian castle?
My Friend Prospero Page 2