Part 19 (1/2)

GERTRUDE. Don't you know it? Who made you that gown?

AGNES. Bardini.

GERTRUDE. I shouldn't have credited the little woman with such excellent ideas.

AGNES. Oh, Lucas gave her the idea when he--when he--

GERTRUDE. When he ordered it?

AGNES. Yes.

GERTRUDE. Oh, the whole thing came as a surprise to you?

AGNES. Er--quite.

GERTRUDE. I noticed the box this afternoon when I called.

AGNES. Mr. Cleeve wishes me to appear more like--more like--

GERTRUDE. An ordinary smart woman. [Contemptuously.] Well, you ought to find no difficulty in managing that. You can make yourself very charming, it appears.

[AGNES again reaches out a hand towards the wine. GERTRUDE pours a very little wine into the wine-gla.s.s and takes up the gla.s.s; AGNES holds out her hand to receive it.]

GERTRUDE. Do you mind my drinking from your gla.s.s?

AGNES. [Staring at her.] No.

[GERTRUDE empties the gla.s.s and then places it, in a marked way, on the side of the table farthest from AGNES.]

GERTRUDE. [With a little shudder.] Ugh! Ugh! [AGNES moves away from GERTRUDE, to the end of the settee, her head bowed, her hands clenched.] I have something to propose. Come home with me tomorrow.

AGNES. [After a pause, raising her head.] Home--?

GERTRUDE. Ketherick. The very spot for a woman who wants to shut out things. Miles and miles of wild moorland! For company, purple heath and moss-covered granite, in summer; in winter, the moor-fowl and the snow glistening on top of the crags. Oh, and for open-air music, our little church owns the sweetest little peal of bells--! [AGNES rises, disturbed.] Ah, I can't promise you their silence! Indeed, I'm very much afraid that on a still Sunday you can even hear the sound of the organ quite a long distance off. I am the organist when I'm at home.

That's Ketherick. Will you come? [The distant tinkling of mandolin and guitar is again heard.]

AGNES. Listen to that. The mandolinisti! You talk of the sound of your church organ, and I hear his music.

GERTRUDE. His music?

AGNES. The music he is fond of; the music that gives him the thoughts that please him, soothe him.

GERTRUDE. [Listening--humming the words of the air, contemptuously: ”Bell'amore deh! Porgi l'orecchio, ad un canto che parte del cuore . . .”] Love-music!

AGNES. [In a low voice, staring upon the ground.] Yes, love music.

[The door leading from LUCAS'S room opens, and ST. OLPHERTS and LUCAS are heard talking. GERTRUDE hastily goes out. KUCAS enters; the boyishness of manner has left him--he is pale and excited.]

AGNES. What is the matter?