Part 74 (1/2)
”I? To you?”
”Yes. You have satisfied my curiosity. I own that sometimes I have wanted to know what sort of voice will be singing after I am dead. And now I _do_ know. Good-bye, and thank you.”
He pressed his hand, turned abruptly and shuffled into the house. He was noticeably the worse for his walk, and Rickman felt that he had to answer for it to Miss Gurney.
”I'm afraid I've tired him. I hope I haven't done him harm.”
Miss Gurney glanced sharply at him, turned, and disappeared through the study window. Her manner implied that if he had harmed Fielding she would make him feel it.
She came back still unsmiling. ”No. You have not tired him.”
”Then,” said he as he followed her into the drawing-room, ”I am forgiven?”
”Yes. But I did not say you had not done him harm.”
The lady paused in her amenities to pour out his tea.
”Miss Gurney,” he said as he took the cup from her, ”can you tell me the name of the friend who sent my book to you?”
”No, I'm afraid I cannot.”
”I see. After all, I am not forgiven?”
”I am not at all sure that you ought to be.”
”I heard what he said to you,” she went on almost fiercely. ”That's why I hate young poets. He says there is only you to hate.”
”So, of course, you hate me?”
”I think I do. I wish I had never heard of you. I wish he had never seen you. I hope you will never come again. I haven't looked at your poems that he praises so. He says they are beautiful. Very well, I shall hate them _because_ they are beautiful. He says they have more life in them than his. Do you understand _now_ why I hate them and you? He was young before you came here. You have made him feel that he is old, that he must die. I don't know what else he said to you. Shall I tell you what he said to me? He said that the world will forget him when it's listening to you.”
”You misunderstood him.” He thought that he understood her; but it puzzled him that, adoring Fielding as she did, she yet permitted herself to doubt.
”Do you suppose I thought that he grudged you your fame? Because he doesn't. But I do.”
”You needn't. At present it only exists in his imagination.”
”That's enough. If it exists there--”
”You mean, it will go down the ages?”
She nodded.
”And you don't want it to go?”
”Not unless his goes too, and goes farther.”
”You need hardly be afraid.”