Cecca made a queenly obeisance2 to Colin, dropped a sort of saucy3 Italian curtsey to Minna, nodded familiarly to Hiram, and swept out of the studio into the dressing-room without uttering another word.
'She'll go off to Bazzoni's, I'm afraid,' Hiram said, with a sigh of relief, as she shut the door noiselessly and cautiously behind her. 'He's downright anxious to get her, and she's a touchy4 young woman, that's certain.'
'I'm not at all afraid of that,' Colin answered, smiling; 'she's a great deal too true to me for any such tricks as those, I'm sure, Winthrop. She really likes me, I know, and she won't desert me even for a pique5, though I can easily see she's awfully6 offended.'
'Well, I hope so,' Hiram replied gravely. 'She's far too good a model to be lost. Goodbye, Churchill.—Good morning, Miss Wroe. I hope you'll do me the same honour as you've done your cousin, by coming to take a look some day around my studio.'
'Well, Minna,' Colin said as soon as they were alone, coming up to her and offering once more to kiss her—'why, little woman, what's the matter? Aren't you going to let me kiss you any longer? We always used to kiss one another in the old days, you know, in England.'
'But now we're both of us quite grown up, Colin,' Minna answered, somewhat pettishly7, 'so of course that makes all the difference.'
Cohn couldn't understand the meaning of this chilliness8; for Minna's late letters, written in the tremor9 of delight at the surprise she was preparing for him, had been more than usually affectionate; and it would never have entered into his head for a moment to suppose that she could have misinterpreted his remarks about Cecca, even if he had known that she had overheard them. To a sculptor10, such criticism of a model, such enthusiasm for the mere11 form of the shapely human figure, seem so natural and disinterested12, so much a necessary corollary of his art, that he never even dreams of guarding against any possible misapprehension. So Colin only bowed his head in silent wonder, and answered slowly, 'But then you know, Minna, we're cousins. Surely there can be no reason why cousins when they meet shouldn't kiss one another.' He couldn't have chosen a worse plea at that particular moment; for as he said it, the blood rushed from Minna's cheeks, and she trembled with excitement at that seeming knell13 to all her dearest expectations. 'Oh, well, if you put it upon that ground, Colin,' she faltered14 out half tearfully, 'of course we may kiss one another—as cousins.'
Colin seized her in his arms at the word, and covered her pretty little gipsy face with a string of warm, eager kisses. Even little Minna, in her fright and anxiety, could not help imagining to herself that those were hardly what one could call in fairness mere everyday cousinly embraces. But her evil genius made her struggle to release herself, according to the code of etiquette15 which she had learnt as becoming from her friends and early companions; and she pushed Colin away after a moment's doubtful acquiescence16, with a little petulant17 gesture of half-affected anger. The philosophic18 observer may indeed note that among the English people only women of the very highest breeding know how to let themselves be kissed by their lovers with becoming and unresisting dignity. Tennyson's Maud, when her cynic admirer kissed her for the first time, 'took the kiss sedately19.' I fear it must be admitted that under the same circumstances Minna Wroe, dear little native-born lady though she was, would have felt it incumbent20 upon her as a woman and a maiden21 to resist and struggle to the utmost of her power.
As for Colin, having got rid of that first resistance easily enough, he soon settled in his own mind to his own entire satisfaction that Minna had been only a little shy of him after so long an absence, and had perhaps been playing off a sort of mock-modest coyness upon him, in order to rouse him to an effective aggression22. So he said no more to her about the matter, but asked her full particulars as to her new position and her journey; and even Minna herself, disappointed as she was, could not help opening out her full heart to dear old Colin, and telling him all about everything that had happened to her in the last six weeks, except her inner hopes and fears and lamentations. Yes, she had come to Rome to live—she didn't say 'on purpose to be near you, Colin'—and they would have abundant opportunities of seeing one another frequently; and Madame was very kind, for an employer, you know—as employers go—you can't expect much, of course, from an employer. And Colin showed her all his busts23 and statues; and Minna admired them profoundly with a genuine admiration24. And then, what prices he got for them! Why, Colin, really nowadays you're become quite a gentleman! And Colin, to whom that social metamorphosis had long grown perfectly25 familiar, laughed heartily26 at the na?ve remark and then looked round with a touch of professional suspicion, for fear some accidental patron might have happened to come in and overhear the simple little confession27. Altogether, their conversation got very close and affectionate and cousinly.
At last, after they had talked about everything that most concerned them both, save only the one thing that concerned them both more than anything, Minna asked in as unconcerned a tone as she could muster28 up, 'And this model, Colin—Cecca, I think you called her—what of her?'
Colin's eye lighted up with artistic29 enthusiasm as he answered warmly, 'Oh, she's the most beautiful girl in all Rome, little woman. I found her out by accident last year, at a village in Calabria where Winthrop and I had gone for a Christmas holiday; and I induced her to come to Rome and go in for a model's life as a profession. Isn't she just magnificent, Minna?'
'Very magnificent indeed, I dare say,' Minna answered coldly; 'but not to my mind by any means pleasing.'
'I wonder you think that,' Colin said in frank astonishment30: for he was too much a sculptor even to suspect that Minna could take any other view of his model except the purely31 artistic one. 'She was the original of that Nymph Bathing of mine that you see over yonder.'
Minna looked critically at the Nymph Bathing—a shameless hussy, truly, if ever there was one—and answered in a chilly32 voice, 'I like it the least of all your statues, if you care to have my opinion, Colin.'
'Well, now, I'm awfully sorry for that, Minna,' Colin went on seriously, regarding the work with that despondent33 eye with which one always views one's own performances after hearing by any chance an adverse34 criticism; 'for I rather liked the nymph myself, you know, and I can generally rely upon your judgment35 as being about the very best to be had anywhere in the open market. There's no denying, little woman, that you've got a born taste somehow or other for the art of sculpture.'
If only women would say what they mean to us! but they won't, so what's the use of bothering one's head about it? They'll make themselves and us unhappy for a twelvemonth together—lucky indeed if not for ever—by petting and fretting36 over some jealous fancy or other, some vague foolish suspicion, which, if they would but speak out frankly37 for a moment, might be dispelled38 and settled with a good hearty39 kiss in half a second. Our very unsuspiciousness, our masculine downrightness and definiteness, make us slow to perceive their endless small tiffs40 and crooked41 questions; slow to detect the real meaning that underlies42 their unaccountable praise and blame of other people, given entirely43 from the point of' view of their own marvellous subjective44 universe. The question whether Cecca was handsome or otherwise was to Colin Churchill a simple question of external aesthetics45; he was as unprejudiced about it as he would have been in judging a Greek torso or a modern Italian statue. But to Minna it was mainly a question between her own heart and Colin's. If she had only told him then and there her whole doubt and trouble—confessed it, as a man would have confessed it, openly and simply, and asked at once for a straightforward46 explanation, she would have saved herself long weeks of misery47 and self-torture and internal questionings. But she did not; and Colin, never doubting her misapprehension, dropped the matter lightly as one of no practical importance whatsoever48.
So it came to pass that Minna let that first day at Rome slip by without having come to any understanding at all with Colin; and went home to Madame's still in doubt in her own troubled little mind whether or not she was really and truly quite engaged to him. Did he love her, or did he merely like her? Was she his sweetheart, or merely an old friend whom he had known and confided49 in ever since those dim old days at Wootton Mandeville? Minna could have cried her eyes out over that abstruse50 and difficult personal question. And Colin never even knew that the question had for one moment so much as once occurred to her.
'I may have one more kiss before you go, little woman,' Colin said to her tenderly, as she was on the point of leaving. Minna's eyes glistened51 brightly. 'One more kiss, you know, dear, for old times' sake, Minna.' Minna's eyes filled with tears, and she could hardly brush them away without his perceiving it. It was only for old times' sake, then, for old times' sake, not for love and the future. Oh, Colin, Colin, how bitter! how bitter!
'As a cousin, Colin?' she murmured interrogatively.
Cohn laughed a gay little laugh. 'Strictly52 as a cousin,' he answered merrily, lingering far longer on her lips, however, than the most orthodox cousinly affection could ever possibly have sufficed to justify53.
Minna sighed and jumped away hastily. That night, in her own room, looking at Colin's photograph, and thinking of the dreadful Italian woman, and all the dangers that beset54 her round about, she muttered to herself ever so often, 'Strictly as a cousin, he said strictly as a cousin—for old times' sake—strictly as a cousin.'
There was only one real comfort left for her in all the dreary55, gloomy, disappointing outlook. At least that horrid56 high-born Miss Gwen Howard-Russell (ugh, what a name!) had disappeared bodily altogether from off the circle of Cohn's horizon.
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1
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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obeisance
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| n.鞠躬，敬礼 | |
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saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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touchy
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| adj.易怒的；棘手的 | |
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pique
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| v.伤害…的自尊心，使生气 n.不满，生气 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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pettishly
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chilliness
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| n.寒冷，寒意，严寒 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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sculptor
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| n.雕刻家，雕刻家 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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knell
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| n.丧钟声；v.敲丧钟 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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acquiescence
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| n.默许；顺从 | |
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petulant
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| adj.性急的，暴躁的 | |
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philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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sedately
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| adv.镇静地，安详地 | |
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incumbent
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| adj.成为责任的，有义务的；现任的，在职的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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aggression
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| n.进攻，侵略，侵犯，侵害 | |
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busts
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| 半身雕塑像( bust的名词复数 )； 妇女的胸部； 胸围； 突击搜捕 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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adverse
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| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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tiffs
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| n.争吵( tiff的名词复数 )；（酒的）一口；小饮 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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underlies
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| v.位于或存在于（某物）之下( underlie的第三人称单数 )；构成…的基础（或起因），引起 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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subjective
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| a.主观(上)的，个人的 | |
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aesthetics
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| n.(尤指艺术方面之)美学，审美学 | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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48
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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49
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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50
abstruse
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| adj.深奥的，难解的 | |
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51
glistened
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| v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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53
justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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54
beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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55
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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