Be just, be reasonable! It 's not his fault, and it 's not mine.
He 's the best, the kindest young man in the world, and the most correct and moral and virtuous! If he were standing here in rags, I would say it all the same.The man first--the money afterwards:
that was always my motto, and always will be.What do you take me for?
Do you suppose I would give Christina to a vicious person? do you suppose I would sacrifice my precious child, little comfort as I have in her, to a man against whose character one word could be breathed?
Casamassima is only too good, he 's a saint of saints, he 's stupidly good!
There is n't such another in the length and breadth of Europe.
What he has been through in this house, not a common peasant would endure.
Christina has treated him as you would n't treat a dog.
He has been insulted, outraged, persecuted! He has been driven hither and thither till he did n't know where he was.He has stood there where you stand--there, with his name and his millions and his devotion--as white as your handkerchief, with hot tears in his eyes, and me ready to go down on my knees to him and say, 'My own sweet prince, I could kiss the ground you tread on, but it is n't decent that I should allow you to enter my house and expose yourself to these horrors again.'
And he would come back, and he would come back, and go through it all again, and take all that was given him, and only want the girl the more!
I was his confidant; I know everything.He used to beg my forgiveness for Christina.What do you say to that? I seized him once and kissed him, I did! To find that and to find all the rest with it, and to believe it was a gift straight from the pitying angels of heaven, and then to see it dashed away before your eyes and to stand here helpless--oh, it 's a fate I hope you may ever be spared!""It would seem, then, that in the interest of Prince Casamassima himself I ought to refuse to interfere," said Rowland.
Mrs.Light looked at him hard, slowly drying her eyes.
The intensity of her grief and anger gave her a kind of majesty, and Rowland, for the moment, felt ashamed of the ironical ring of his observation."Very good, sir," she said.
"I 'm sorry your heart is not so tender as your conscience.
My compliments to your conscience! It must give you great happiness.
Heaven help me! Since you fail us, we are indeed driven to the wall.
But I have fought my own battles before, and I have never lost courage, and I don't see why I should break down now.
Cavaliere, come here!"
Giacosa rose at her summons and advanced with his usual deferential alacrity.
He shook hands with Rowland in silence.
"Mr.Mallet refuses to say a word," Mrs.Light went on.
"Time presses, every moment is precious.Heaven knows what that poor boy may be doing.If at this moment a clever woman should get hold of him she might be as ugly as she pleased!
It 's horrible to think of it."
The Cavaliere fixed his eyes on Rowland, and his look, which the night before had been singular, was now most extraordinary.
There was a nameless force of anguish in it which seemed to grapple with the young man's reluctance, to plead, to entreat, and at the same time to be glazed over with a reflection of strange things.
Suddenly, though most vaguely, Rowland felt the presence of a new element in the drama that was going on before him.
He looked from the Cavaliere to Mrs.Light, whose eyes were now quite dry, and were fixed in stony hardness on the floor.
"If you could bring yourself," the Cavaliere said, in a low, soft, caressing voice, "to address a few words of solemn remonstrance to Miss Light, you would, perhaps, do more for us than you know.
You would save several persons a great pain.The dear signora, first, and then Christina herself.Christina in particular.
Me too, I might take the liberty to add!"There was, to Rowland, something acutely touching in this humble petition.
He had always felt a sort of imaginative tenderness for poor little unexplained Giacosa, and these words seemed a supreme contortion of the mysterious obliquity of his life.All of a sudden, as he watched the Cavaliere, something occurred to him; it was something very odd, and it stayed his glance suddenly from again turning to Mrs.Light.
His idea embarrassed him, and to carry off his embarrassment, he repeated that it was folly to suppose that his words would have any weight with Christina.
The Cavaliere stepped forward and laid two fingers on Rowland's breast.
"Do you wish to know the truth? You are the only man whose words she remembers."Rowland was going from surprise to surprise."I will say what I can!"he said.By this time he had ventured to glance at Mrs.Light.
She was looking at him askance, as if, upon this, she was suddenly mistrusting his motives.
"If you fail," she said sharply, "we have something else!
But please to lose no time."
She had hardly spoken when the sound of a short, sharp growl caused the company to turn.Christina's fleecy poodle stood in the middle of the vast saloon, with his muzzle lowered, in pompous defiance of the three conspirators against the comfort of his mistress.This young lady's claims for him seemed justified;he was an animal of amazingly delicate instincts.
He had preceded Christina as a sort of van-guard of defense, and she now slowly advanced from a neighboring room.
"You will be so good as to listen to Mr.Mallet," her mother said, in a terrible voice, "and to reflect carefully upon what he says.
I suppose you will admit that he is disinterested.
In half an hour you shall hear from me again!" And passing her hand through the Cavaliere's arm, she swept rapidly out of the room.
Christina looked hard at Rowland, but offered him no greeting.
