Part 30 (1/2)
”I love her,” he replied at length, ”because I love everything that is lovely; and without prejudice I do honestly believe she is about the loveliest young woman I have ever seen. Her face more nearly resembles that of Botticelli's Venus than any living being in my experience; and it is the sweetest face I know. Therefore I love her outside very much indeed, Peter.
”But when it comes to her inside, I feel not so sure. That is natural, for this reason, that I do not know her at all well yet. I have seldom seen her in childhood, or had any real acquaintance with her until now. When I know her better, it is pretty certain that I shall love her all through; but one must confess I can never know her very well, because the gap in age denies perfect understanding.
Nor does she come to me, as it were, alone. Her life turns to her husband. She is still a bride and adores him.”
”You have no reason to think her as an unhappy bride?”
”None whatever. Doria is amazingly handsome and attractive--the type a woman generally wors.h.i.+ps. I grant that Italo-English marriages are not remarkable for their success; but--well, no doubt Jenny's husband is worldly-wise. He has everything to gain by being good, everything to lose by behaving badly. Jenny is a proud girl. She has qualities. There is a distinction about her. She would stand no nonsense from Doria and she knows that I would stand no nonsense from him. I hope to see much of her, though it appears that their home will be in Turin.”
”He has abandoned his ambitions to recover the family estates and t.i.tle and so forth? Brendon told me all about that.”
”Entirely. Besides it seems that one of your countrymen has secured the castle at Dolceacqua and bought the t.i.tle too. Giuseppe was very entertaining on the subject. But I'm afraid he loves idleness.”
Before luncheon Mark Brendon returned from the hills with his guide.
They had seen nothing of Robert Redmayne and appeared to be rather weary of one another's company.
”You must impart your wisdom and gay spirit to Signor Marco,” said Giuseppe to Mr. Ganns, when Brendon was out of earshot with Jenny.
”He is a very dull dog and does not even listen when I talk. Not simpatico, I suppose. He will never find out anything. Will you, I wonder? Have you any ideas? A new broom sweeps clean, as you say.”
”I must suck your brains before you suck mine, Doria,” said Peter genially. ”I want to hear what you think of this man in the red waistcoat. We must have a talk.”
”Gladly, gladly, Signor Peter. I have seen him now many times--in England three--four times--in Italy once. He is always the same.”
”Not a spook?”
”A spirit? No. Very much alive. But how he lives and what he lives for--who can tell?”
”You do not fear on account of Mr. Redmayne?”
”I much fear on account of him,” answered Doria. ”And when my wife told me that she had seen him, I telegraphed from Turin that they should be careful and run no risk whatever of a meeting. Jenny's uncle is frightened when he thinks about it; but we keep his thoughts away as much as possible. It is bad for him to fear. For the love of Heaven, good signor, get to the bottom of it if you can.
My idea is to set a trap for this red man and catch him, like a fox or other wild creature.”
”A very cute notion,” declared Peter. ”We'll rope you in, Giuseppe.
Between you and me and the post, our friend Brendon has been barking up the wrong tree, you know. But if you and I and he, together, can't clean this up, then we're not the men I take us for.”
Doria laughed.
”'Deeds are men; words are women,'” he said. ”There has been too much chatter about this; but now you are come; we shall see things accomplished.”
It was not until after the midday meal that Ganns and Mark were able to get speech together. Then, promising to return in time to meet Virgilio Poggi, who would cross the lake for tea, the two men sauntered beside Como and exchanged experiences. The interview proved painful to the younger, for he found that Peter's doubts were cleared in certain directions. Brendon, indeed, led up to his own chastening very directly.
”It makes me mad,” he said, ”to see the way that beggar treats his wife--Doria I mean. Pearls before swine. I never hoped much from it; but to think they have only been married three months!''
”How does he treat her?”
”Well, one isn't blind to her appearance. The cause is, of course, concealed; the effect, very visible to my eyes. She's far too plucky to whisper her troubles; but she can't hide her face, where they may be read.”
Mr. Ganns said nothing and Mark spoke again.
”Do you begin to see any light?”