Podb. You have, and no mistake. She's regularly taken me in hand, don't you know – she says I've no intelligent appreciation of Italian Art; and gad, I believe she's right there! But I'm pulling up – bound to teach you a lot, seeing all the old altar-pieces I do! And she gives me the right tips, don't you see; she's no end of a clever girl, so well-read and all that! But I say – about Miss Trotter? Don't want to be inquisitive, you know, but you don't seem to be much about with her.

Culch. I – er – the feelings I entertain towards Miss Trotter have suffered no change – quite the reverse, only – and I wish to impress this upon you, Podbury – it is undesirable, for – er – many reasons, to make my attentions – er – too conspicuous. I – I trust you have not alluded to the matter to – well, to Miss Prendergast, for example?

Podb. Not I, old fellow – got other things to talk about. But I don't quite see why —

Culch. You are not required to see. I don't wish it, that is all. I – er – think that should be sufficient.

Podb. Oh, all right, I'll keep dark. But she's bound to know sooner or later, now she and Miss Trotter have struck up such a friendship. And Hypatia will be awfully pleased about it – why shouldn't she, you know? … I'm going to see if there's any one on the tennis-court, and get a game if I can. Ta-ta!

Culch. (alone). Podbury knows very little about women. If Hyp – Miss Prendergast – once found out why I renounced my suitorship, I should have very little peace, I know that – I've taken particular care not to betray my attachment to Maud. I'm afraid she's beginning to notice it, but I must be careful. I don't like this sudden intimacy between them – it makes things so very awkward. They've been sitting under that tree over there for the last half-hour, and goodness only knows what confidences they may have exchanged! I really must go up and put a stop to it, presently.

UNDER THE TREE

Hypatia. I only tell you all this, dearest, because I do think you have rather too low an opinion of men as a class, and I wanted to show you that I have met at least one man who was capable of a real and disinterested devotion.

Maud. Well, I allowed that was about your idea.

Hyp. And don't you recognize that it was very fine of him to give up everything for his friend's sake?

Maud. I guess it depends how much "everything" amounted to.

Hyp. (annoyed). I thought, darling, I had made it perfectly plain what a sacrifice it meant to him. I know how much he – I needn't tell you there are certain symptoms one cannot be deceived in.

Maud. No, I guess you needn't tell me that, love. And it was perfectly lovely of him to give you up, when he was under vow for you and all, sooner than stand in his friend's light – only I don't just see how that was going to help his friend any.

Hyp. Don't you really? Not when the friend was under vow for me too?

Maud. Well, Hypatia Prendergast! And how many admirers do you have around under vow, as a regular thing?

Hyp. There were only those two. Ruskin permits as many as seven at one time.

Maud. That's a vurry liberal allowance, too. I don't see how there'd be sufficient suitors to go round. But maybe each gentleman can be under vow for seven distinct girls, to make things sort of square now?

Hyp. Certainly not. The whole beauty of the idea lies in the unselfish and exclusive devotion of every knight to the same sovereign lady. In this case I happen to know that the – a – individual had never met his ideal until —

Maud. Until he met you? At Nuremberg, wasn't it? My! And what was his name? Do tell!

Hyp. You must not press me, dear Maud, for I cannot tell that – even to you.

Maud. I don't believe but what I could guess. But say, you didn't care any for him, or you'd never have let him go like that? I wouldn't. I should have suspected there was something behind!

Hyp. My feelings towards him were purely potential. I did him the simple justice to believe that his self-abnegation was sincere. But, with your practical, cynical little mind, darling, you are hardly capable of – excuse me for saying so – of appreciating the real value and meaning of such magnanimity!

Maud. Oh, I guess I am, though. Why, here's Mr. Culchard coming along. Well, Mr. Culchard?

Culch. I – ah – appear to have interrupted a highly interesting conversation?

Maud. Well, we were having a little discussion, and I guess you're in time to give the casting vote – Hypatia, you want to keep just where you are, do you hear? I mean you should listen to Mr. Culchard's opinion.

Culch. (flattered). Which I shall be delighted to give, if you will put me in possession of the – er – facts.

Maud. Well, these are the – er – facts. There were two gentlemen under vow – maybe you'll understand the working of that arrangement better than I do? – under vow for the same young lady. [Hypatia Prendergast, sit still, or I declare I'll pinch you!] One of them comes up and tells her that he's arrived at the conclusion the other admirer is the better man, and, being a friend of his, he ought to retire in his favour, and he does it, too, right away. Now I say that isn't natural – he'd some other motive. Miss Prendergast here will have it he was one of those noble unselfish natures that deserve they should be stuffed for a dime museum. What's your opinion now?

Culch. (perspiring freely). Why – er – really, on so delicate a matter, I – I – [He maunders.

Hyp. Maud, why will you be so headstrong! (In a rapid whisper.) Can't you see … can't you guess?..

Maud. I guess I want to make sure Mr. Culchard isn't that kind of magnanimous man himself. I shouldn't want him to renounce me!

Hyp. Maud! You might at least wait until Mr. Culchard has —

Maud. Oh, but he did– weeks ago, at Bingen. And at Lugano, too, the other day, he spoke out tolerable plain. I guess he didn't wish any secret made about it —did you, Mr. Culchard?

Culch. I – ah – this conversation is rather… If you'll excuse me – [Escapes with as much dignity as he can command.

Maud. Well, my dear, – that's the sort of self-denying hairpin he is! What do you think of him now?

Hyp. I do not think so highly of him, I confess. His renunciation was evidently less prompted by consideration for his friend than by a recollection – tardy enough, I am afraid – of the duty which bound him to you, dearest. But if you had seen and heard him, as I did, you would not have doubted the reality of the sacrifice, whatever the true reason may have been. For myself, I am conscious of neither anger nor sorrow – my heart, as I told you, was never really affected. But what must it be to you, darling!

Maud. Well, I believe I'm more amused than anything.

Hyp. Amused! But surely you don't mean to have anything more to do with him?

Maud. My dear girl, I intend to have considerable more to do with him before I'm through. He's under vow for me now, anyway, and I don't mean he should forget it, either. He's my monkey, and he's got to jump around pretty lively, at the end of a tolerable short chain, too. And I guess, if it comes to renouncing, all the magnanimity's going to be on my side this time!

IN AN AVENUE

Culch. (to himself, as he walks hurriedly on). I only just saved myself in time. I don't think Maud noticed anything – she couldn't have been so innocent and indifferent if she had… And Hypatia won't enlighten her any further now – after what she knows. It's rather a relief that she does know… She took it very well, poor girl —very well. I expect she is really beginning to put up with Podbury – I'm sure I hope so, sincerely!

CHAPTER XVII.
Culchard cannot be "Happy with Either."

Scene —Under the Colonnade of the Hôtel Grande Bretagne, Bellagio. Culchard is sitting by one of the pillars, engaged in constructing a sonnet. On a neighbouring seat a group of smart people are talking over their acquaintances, and near them is another visitor, a Mr. Crawley Strutt, who is watching his opportunity to strike into the conversation.

Mrs. Hurlingham. Well, she'll be Lady Chesepare some day, when anything happens to the old Earl. He was looking quite ghastly when we were down at Skympings last. But they're frightfully badly off now, poor dears! Lady Driblett lets them have her house in Park Lane for parties and that – but it's wonderful how they live at all!

Colonel Sandown. He looked pretty fit at the Rag the other day. Come across the Senlacs anywhere? Thought Lady Senlac was going abroad this year.

Mr. Crawley Strutt. Hem – I saw it mentioned in the Penny Patrician that her Ladyship had —

Mrs. Hurl. (without taking the slightest notice of him). She's just been marryin' her daughter, you know – rather a good match, too. Not what I call pretty, – smart-lookin', that's all. But then her sister wasn't pretty till she married.

Col. Sand. Nice family she married into! Met her father-in-law, old Lord Bletherham, the other morning, at a chemist's in Piccadilly – he'd dropped in there for a pick-me-up; and there he was, tellin' the chemist all the troubles he'd had with his other sons marryin' the way they did, and that. Rum man to go and confide in his chemist, but he's like that – fond of the vine!

Mr. C. S. Er – her – it's becoming a very serious thing, Sir, the way our aristocracy is deteriorating, is it not?

Col. S. Is it? What have they been up to now, eh? Haven't seen a paper for days.

Mr. C. S. I mean these mixed marriages, and, well, their general goings on. I don't know if you're acquainted with a paper called the Penny Patrician? I take it in regularly, and I assure you– loyal supporter of our old hereditary institutions as I am – some of the revelations I read about in high life make me blush – yes, downright blush for them!

[Mrs. Hurlingham retires.

Col. S. Do they, though? If I were you I should let 'em do their own blushin', and save my pennies.

Mr. C. S. (deferentially). No doubt you're right, Sir, but I like the Patrician myself – it's very smartly written. Talking of that, do you happen to know the ins and outs of that marriage of young Lord Goslington's? Something very mysterious about the party he's going to marry – who are her people now?

Col. S. Can't say, I'm sure – no business of mine, you know.

Mr. C. S. There I venture to think you're wrong, Sir. It's the business of everybody – the duty, I may say – to see that the best blood of the nation is not – (Col. S. turns into the hotel; Mr. C. S. sits down near Culch.) – Remarkably superior set of visitors staying here, Sir! My chief objection to travel always is, that it brings you in contact with parties you wouldn't think of associating with at home. I was making that same remark to a very pleasant little fellow I met on the steamer – er – Lord Uppersole, I think it was – and he entirely concurred. Your friend made us acquainted. – (Podbury comes out of the hotel.) – Ah, here is your friend, – (To Podb.) – Seen his Lordship about lately, Sir? – Lord Uppersole I mean, of course!

Podb. Uppersole? No – he's over at Cadenabbia, I believe.

Mr. C. S. A highly agreeable spot to stay at. Indeed, I've some idea myself of – Exceedingly pleasant person his Lordship – so affable, so completely the gentleman!

Podb. Oh, he's affable enough – for a boot-maker. I always give him a title when I see him, for the joke of the thing – he likes it.

Mr. C. S. He may, Sir. I consider a title is not a thing to be treated in that light manner. It – it was an unpardonable liberty to force me into the society of that class of person – unpardonable, Sir!

[He goes.

Podb. Didn't take much forcing, after he once heard me call him "Lord Uppersole"! Where are all the others, eh? Thought we were going up to the Villa Serbelloni this afternoon.

Culch. I – er – have not been consulted. Are they – er —all going?

[With a shade of anxiety.

Podb. I believe so. You needn't be afraid, you know. Hypatia won't have the chance of ragging you now – she and Miss Trotter have had a bit of a breeze.

Culch. I rather gathered as much. I think I could guess the —

Podb. Yes, Hypatia's rather uneasy about poor old Bob; thinks Miss Trotter is – well, carrying on, you know. She is no end of a little flirt —you know that well enough! – (C. disclaims impatiently.) Here you all are, eh? – (To Miss P., Miss T., and Bob.) – Well, who knows the way up to the villa?

Miss T. It's through the town, and up some steps by the church – you can't miss it. But Mr. Prendergast is going to show me a short cut up behind the hotel – aren't you, Mr. Prendergast?

Miss P. (icily). I really think, dear, it would be better if we all kept together – for so many reasons!

Culch. (with alacrity). I agree with Miss Prendergast. A short cut is invariably the most indirect route.

Miss P. (with intention). You hear what Mr. Culchard says, my dear Maud? He advocates direct ways, as best in the long run.

Miss T. It's only going to be a short run, my love. But I'm vurry glad to observe that you and Mr. Culchard are so perfectly harmonious, as I'm leaving him on your hands for a spell. Aren't you ever coming, Mr. Prendergast? [She leads him off, a not unwilling captive.

A PATH IN THE GROUNDS OF THE VILLA SERBELLONI

Podb. (considerately, to Culchard, who is following Miss Prendergast and him, in acute misery). Look here, old fellow, Miss Prendergast would like to sit down, I know; so don't you bother about keeping with us if you'd rather not, you know! [Culchard murmurs an inarticulate protest.

Miss P. Surely, Mr. Podbury, you are aware by this time that Mr. Culchard has a perfect mania for self-sacrifice!

[Culchard drops behind, crushed.

AMONG THE RUINS AT THE TOP OF THE HILL

Culch. (who has managed to overtake Miss T. and her companion). Now do oblige me by looking through that gap in the pines towards Lecco. I particularly wish you to observe the effect of light on those cliffs – it's well worth your while.

Miss T. Why, certainly, it's a view that does you infinite credit. Oh, you didn't take any hand in the arrangement? But ain't you afraid if you go around patting the scenery on the head this way, you'll have the lake overflow?

Bob P. Ha-ha-ha! One in the eye for you, Culchard!

Culch. (with dignity). Surely one may express a natural enthusiasm without laying oneself open – ?

Miss T. Gracious, yes! I should hope you wouldn't want to show your enthusiasm that way – like a Japanese nobleman!

Culch. (to himself). Now that's coarse —really coarse! – (Aloud.) – I seem to be unable to open my mouth now without some ridiculous distortion —

Miss T. My! – but that's a serious symptom – isn't it? You don't feel like you were going to have lock-jaw, do you, Mr. Culchard?

[Culchard falls back to the rear once more. Later– Mr. Van Boodeler has joined the party; Hypatia has contrived to detach her brother. Culchard has sought refuge with Podbury.

Miss T. (to Van B.). So that's what kept you? Well, it sounds just too enchanting. But I cann't answer for what Miss Prendergast will say to it. It mayn't suit her notions of propriety.

Mr. Van B. I expect she'll be superior to Britannic prejudices of that kind. I consider your friend a highly cultivated and charming lady, Maud. She produces that impression upon me.

Miss T. I presume, from that, she has shown an intelligent interest in the great Amurrcan novel?

Mr. Van B. Why, yes; it enlists her literary sympathies – she sees all its possibilities.

Miss T. And they're pretty numerous, too. But here she comes. You'd better tell her your plan right now.

Miss P. (in an earnest undertone to Bob, as they approach, followed by Culch. and Pod.). You must try and be sensible about it, Bob; if you are too blind to see that she is only —

Bob (sulkily). All right! Haven't I said I'd go? What's the good of jawing about it?

Mr. V. B. (to Miss P.). I've been telling my cousin I've been organising a little water-party for this evening – moonlight, mandolins, Menaggio. If you find the alliteration has any attractions, I hope you and your brother will do me the pleasure of —

Miss P. I'm afraid not, thanks. We have all our packing to do. We find we shall have to leave early to-morrow.

[Van B.'s face falls; Bob listens gloomily to Miss T.'s rather perfunctory expressions of regret; Podbury looks anxious and undecided; Culchard does his best to control an unseemly joy.

CHAPTER XVIII.
A Suspension of Hostilities

Scene —The roof of Milan Cathedral; the innumerable statues and fretted pinnacles show in dazzling relief against the intense blue sky. Through the open-work of the parapet is seen the vast Piazza, with its yellow toy tram cars, and the small crawling figures which cast inordinately long shadows. All around is a maze of pale brown roofs, and beyond, the green plain blending on the horizon with dove-coloured clouds in a quivering violet haze. Culchard is sitting by a small doorway at the foot of a flight of steps leading to the Spire.

Culchard (meditating). I think Maud must have seen from the tone in which I said I preferred to remain below, that I object to that cousin of hers perpetually coming about with us as he does. She's far too indulgent to him – a posing, affected prig, always talking about the wonderful things he's going to write! He had the impudence to tell me I didn't know the most elementary laws of the sonnet this morning! Withering repartee seems to have no effect whatever on him. I wish I had some of Podbury's faculty for flippant chaff! I wonder if he and the Prendergasts really are at Milan. I certainly thought I recognised – If they are, it's very bad taste of them, after the pointed way in which they left Bellagio. I only hope we shan't —

[Here the figure of Miss Prendergast suddenly emerges from the door; Culchard rises and stands aside to let her pass; she returns his salutation distantly, and passes on with her chin in the air; her brother follows, with a side-jerk of recognition. Podbury comes last, and halts undecidedly.

Podb. (with a rather awkward laugh). Here we are again, eh? (Looks after Miss P., hesitates, and finally sits down by Culchard.) Where's the fascinating Miss Trotter? How do you come to be off duty like this?

Culch. (stiffly). The fascinating Miss Trotter is up above with Van Boodeler, so my services are not required.

Podb. Up above? And Hypatia just gone up with Bob! Whew, there'll be ructions presently! Well out of it, you and I! So it's Boodeler's turn now? That's rough on you– after Hypatia had whistled poor old Bob off. As much out in the cold as ever, eh?

Culch. I am nothing of the kind. I find him distasteful to me, and avoid him as much as I can, that's all. I wish, Podbury, er – I almost wish you could have stayed with me, instead of allowing the Prendergasts to carry you off as they did. You would have kept Van Boodeler in order.

Podb. Much obliged, old chap; but I'm otherwise engaged. Being kept in order myself. Oh, I like it, you know. She's developing my mind like winking. Spent the whole morning at the Brera, mugging up these old Italian Johnnies. They really are clinkers, you know. Raphael, eh? – and Giotto, and Mantegna, and all that lot. As Hypatia says, for intensity of – er – religious feeling, and – and subtlety of symbolism, and – and so on, they simply take the cake – romp in, and the rest nowhere! I'm getting quite the connoisseur, I can tell you!

Culch. Evidently. I suppose there's no chance of a – a reconciliation up there? [With some alarm.

Podb. Don't you be afraid. When Hypatia once gets her quills up, they don't subside so easily! Hallo! isn't this old Trotter?

[That gentleman appears in the doorway.

Mr. T. Why, Mr. Podbury, so you've come along here? That's right! And how do you like Milan? I like the place first-rate – it's a live city, Sir. And I like this old cathedral, too; it's well constructed – they've laid out money on it. I call it real ornamental, all these little figgers they've stuck around – and not two of 'em a pair either. Now, they might have had 'em all alike, and no one any the wiser up so high as this; but it certainly gives it more variety, too, having them different. Well, I'm going up as high as ever I can go. You two better come along up with me.

ON THE TOP

Miss P. (as she perceives Miss T. and her companion). Now, Bob, pray remember all I've told you! [Bob turns away, petulantly.

Miss T. (aside, to Van B.). I guess the air's got cooler up here, Charley. But if that girl imagines she's going to freeze me! (Advancing to Miss P.) Why, my dear, it's almost too sweet for anything, meeting you again!

Miss P. You're extremely kind, Maud; I wish I could return the compliment; but really, after what took place at Bellagio, I —

Miss T. (taking her arm). Well, I'll own up to being pretty horrid – and so were you; but there don't seem any sense in our meeting up here like a couple of strange cats on tiles. I won't fly out any more, there! I'm just dying for a reconciliation; and so is Mr. Van Boodeler. The trouble I've had to console that man! He never met anybody before half so interested in the great Amurrcan Novel. And he's wearying for another talk. So you'd better give that hatchet a handsome funeral, and come along and take pity on him.

[Hyp., after a struggle, yields, half-reluctantly, and allows herself to be taken across to Mr. Van B., who greets her effusively. Miss T. leaves them together.

Bob P. (who has been prudently keeping in the background till now, decides that his chance has come). How do you do, Miss Trotter? It's awfully jolly to meet you again like this!

Miss T. Well, I guess that remark would have been more convincing if you'd made it a few minutes earlier.

Bob. I – I – you see, I didn't know … I was afraid – I rather thought —

Miss T. You don't get much further with rather thinking, as a general rule, than if you didn't think at all. But if you're at all anxious to run away the way you did at Bellagio, you needn't be afraid I'll hinder you.

Bob. (earnestly). Run away! Do you think I'd have gone if – I've felt dull enough ever since, without that!

Miss T. Oh, I expect you've had a beautiful time. We have.

Miss P. (coming up). Robert, I thought you wanted to see the Alps? You should come over to the other side, and —

Miss T. I'll undertake that he sees the Alps, my dear, presently – when we're through our talk.

Miss P. As you please, dear. But (pointedly) did I not see Mr. Culchard below?

Miss T. You don't mean to say you're wearied of Mr. Van Boodeler already! Well, Mr. Culchard will be along soon, and I'll loan him to you. I'll tell him you're vurry anxious to converse with him some more. He's just coming along now, with Mr. Podbury and Poppa.

Miss P. (under her breath). Maud! if you dare– !

Miss T. Don't you dare me, then – or you'll see. But I don't want to be mean unless I'm obliged to.

[Mr. Trotter, followed by Culchard and Podbury, arrives at the upper platform. Culchard and Podbury efface themselves as much as possible. Mr. Trotter greets Miss Prendergast heartily.

Mr. T. Well now, I call this sociable, meeting all together again like this. I don't see why in the land we didn't keep together. I've been saying so to my darter here, ever since Bellagio – ain't that so, Maud? And she didn't know just how it came about either.

Miss P. (hurriedly). We – we had to be getting on. And I am afraid we must say good-bye now, Mr. Trotter. I want Bob and Mr. Podbury to see the Da Vinci fresco, you know, before the light goes. (Bob mutters a highly disrespectful wish concerning that work of Art.) We may see you again, before we leave for Verona.

Mr. T. Verona? Well, I don't care if I see Verona myself. Seems a pity to separate now we have met, don't it? See here, now, we'll all go along to Verona together – how's that, Maud? Start whenever you feel like it, Miss Prendergast. How does that proposal strike you? I'll be real hurt if you cann't take to my idea.

Miss T. The fact is, Poppa, Hypatia isn't just sure that Mr. Prendergast wouldn't object.

Bob P. I – object? Not much! Just what I should like, seeing Verona with – all together, you know!

Miss T. Then I guess that's fixed. (Aside, to Miss P., who is speechless.) Come, you haven't the heart to go and disappoint my poor Cousin Charley by saying you won't go! I expect he'll be perfectly enchanted to be under vow – unless you've filled up all the vacancies already! (Aloud, to Van B., as he approaches.) We've persuaded Miss Prendergast to join our party. I hope you feel equal to entertaining her?

Van B. I shall be proud to be permitted to try. (To Miss P.) Then I may take it that you agree with me that the function of the future American fictionist will be – [They move away conversing.

Podb. (to Culch.). I say, old fellow, we're to be travelling companions again, after all. And a jolly good thing, too, I think!.. eh?

Culch. Oh, h'm – quite so. That is – but no doubt it will be an advantage – (with a glance at Van B., who is absorbed in Miss P.'s conversation) – in – er —some respects. (To himself) Hardly from poor dear Podbury's point of view, I'm afraid though! However, if he sees nothing – ! [He shrugs his shoulders, pityingly.