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Главная
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- Генри Джеймс
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- Стр. 16/93
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Lessons
with
me
,
indeed
,
that
charming
summer
,
we
all
had
a
theory
that
he
was
to
have
;
but
I
now
feel
that
,
for
weeks
,
the
lessons
must
have
been
rather
my
own
.
I
learned
something
--
at
first
,
certainly
--
that
had
not
been
one
of
the
teachings
of
my
small
,
smothered
life
;
learned
to
be
amused
,
and
even
amusing
,
and
not
to
think
for
the
morrow
.
It
was
the
first
time
,
in
a
manner
,
that
I
had
known
space
and
air
and
freedom
,
all
the
music
of
summer
and
all
the
mystery
of
nature
.
And
then
there
was
consideration
--
and
consideration
was
sweet
.
Oh
,
it
was
a
trap
--
not
designed
,
but
deep
--
to
my
imagination
,
to
my
delicacy
,
perhaps
to
my
vanity
;
to
whatever
,
in
me
,
was
most
excitable
.
The
best
way
to
picture
it
all
is
to
say
that
I
was
off
my
guard
.
They
gave
me
so
little
trouble
--
they
were
of
a
gentleness
so
extraordinary
.
I
used
to
speculate
--
but
even
this
with
a
dim
disconnectedness
--
as
to
how
the
rough
future
(
for
all
futures
are
rough
!
)
would
handle
them
and
might
bruise
them
.
They
had
the
bloom
of
health
and
happiness
;
and
yet
,
as
if
I
had
been
in
charge
of
a
pair
of
little
grandees
,
of
princes
of
the
blood
,
for
whom
everything
,
to
be
right
,
would
have
to
be
enclosed
and
protected
,
the
only
form
that
,
in
my
fancy
,
the
afteryears
could
take
for
them
was
that
of
a
romantic
,
a
really
royal
extension
of
the
garden
and
the
park
.
It
may
be
,
of
course
,
above
all
,
that
what
suddenly
broke
into
this
gives
the
previous
time
a
charm
of
stillness
--
that
hush
in
which
something
gathers
or
crouches
.
The
change
was
actually
like
the
spring
of
a
beast
.
In
the
first
weeks
the
days
were
long
;
they
often
,
at
their
finest
,
gave
me
what
I
used
to
call
my
own
hour
,
the
hour
when
,
for
my
pupils
,
teatime
and
bedtime
having
come
and
gone
,
I
had
,
before
my
final
retirement
,
a
small
interval
alone
.
Much
as
I
liked
my
companions
,
this
hour
was
the
thing
in
the
day
I
liked
most
;
and
I
liked
it
best
of
all
when
,
as
the
light
faded
--
or
rather
,
I
should
say
,
the
day
lingered
and
the
last
calls
of
the
last
birds
sounded
,
in
a
flushed
sky
,
from
the
old
trees
--
I
could
take
a
turn
into
the
grounds
and
enjoy
,
almost
with
a
sense
of
property
that
amused
and
flattered
me
,
the
beauty
and
dignity
of
the
place
.
It
was
a
pleasure
at
these
moments
to
feel
myself
tranquil
and
justified
;
doubtless
,
perhaps
,
also
to
reflect
that
by
my
discretion
,
my
quiet
good
sense
and
general
high
propriety
,
I
was
giving
pleasure
--
if
he
ever
thought
of
it
!
--
to
the
person
to
whose
pressure
I
had
responded
.
What
I
was
doing
was
what
he
had
earnestly
hoped
and
directly
asked
of
me
,
and
that
I
could
,
after
all
,
do
it
proved
even
a
greater
joy
than
I
had
expected
.
I
daresay
I
fancied
myself
,
in
short
,
a
remarkable
young
woman
and
took
comfort
in
the
faith
that
this
would
more
publicly
appear
.
Well
,
I
needed
to
be
remarkable
to
offer
a
front
to
the
remarkable
things
that
presently
gave
their
first
sign
.
It
was
plump
,
one
afternoon
,
in
the
middle
of
my
very
hour
:
the
children
were
tucked
away
,
and
I
had
come
out
for
my
stroll
.
One
of
the
thoughts
that
,
as
I
do
n't
in
the
least
shrink
now
from
noting
,
used
to
be
with
me
in
these
wanderings
was
that
it
would
be
as
charming
as
a
charming
story
suddenly
to
meet
someone
.
Someone
would
appear
there
at
the
turn
of
a
path
and
would
stand
before
me
and
smile
and
approve
.
I
did
n't
ask
more
than
that
--
I
only
asked
that
he
should
know
;
and
the
only
way
to
be
sure
he
knew
would
be
to
see
it
,
and
the
kind
light
of
it
,
in
his
handsome
face
.
That
was
exactly
present
to
me
--
by
which
I
mean
the
face
was
--
when
,
on
the
first
of
these
occasions
,
at
the
end
of
a
long
June
day
,
I
stopped
short
on
emerging
from
one
of
the
plantations
and
coming
into
view
of
the
house
.
What
arrested
me
on
the
spot
--
and
with
a
shock
much
greater
than
any
vision
had
allowed
for
--
was
the
sense
that
my
imagination
had
,
in
a
flash
,
turned
real
.
He
did
stand
there
!
--
but
high
up
,
beyond
the
lawn
and
at
the
very
top
of
the
tower
to
which
,
on
that
first
morning
,
little
Flora
had
conducted
me
.
This
tower
was
one
of
a
pair
--
square
,
incongruous
,
crenelated
structures
--
that
were
distinguished
,
for
some
reason
,
though
I
could
see
little
difference
,
as
the
new
and
the
old
.
They
flanked
opposite
ends
of
the
house
and
were
probably
architectural
absurdities
,
redeemed
in
a
measure
indeed
by
not
being
wholly
disengaged
nor
of
a
height
too
pretentious
,
dating
,
in
their
gingerbread
antiquity
,
from
a
romantic
revival
that
was
already
a
respectable
past
.
I
admired
them
,
had
fancies
about
them
,
for
we
could
all
profit
in
a
degree
,
especially
when
they
loomed
through
the
dusk
,
by
the
grandeur
of
their
actual
battlements
;
yet
it
was
not
at
such
an
elevation
that
the
figure
I
had
so
often
invoked
seemed
most
in
place
.
It
produced
in
me
,
this
figure
,
in
the
clear
twilight
,
I
remember
,
two
distinct
gasps
of
emotion
,
which
were
,
sharply
,
the
shock
of
my
first
and
that
of
my
second
surprise
.
My
second
was
a
violent
perception
of
the
mistake
of
my
first
:
the
man
who
met
my
eyes
was
not
the
person
I
had
precipitately
supposed
.
There
came
to
me
thus
a
bewilderment
of
vision
of
which
,
after
these
years
,
there
is
no
living
view
that
I
can
hope
to
give
.
An
unknown
man
in
a
lonely
place
is
a
permitted
object
of
fear
to
a
young
woman
privately
bred
;
and
the
figure
that
faced
me
was
--
a
few
more
seconds
assured
me
--
as
little
anyone
else
I
knew
as
it
was
the
image
that
had
been
in
my
mind
.
I
had
not
seen
it
in
Harley
Street
--
I
had
not
seen
it
anywhere
.
The
place
,
moreover
,
in
the
strangest
way
in
the
world
,
had
,
on
the
instant
,
and
by
the
very
fact
of
its
appearance
,
become
a
solitude
.
To
me
at
least
,
making
my
statement
here
with
a
deliberation
with
which
I
have
never
made
it
,
the
whole
feeling
of
the
moment
returns
.
It
was
as
if
,
while
I
took
in
--
what
I
did
take
in
--
all
the
rest
of
the
scene
had
been
stricken
with
death
.
I
can
hear
again
,
as
I
write
,
the
intense
hush
in
which
the
sounds
of
evening
dropped
.
The
rooks
stopped
cawing
in
the
golden
sky
,
and
the
friendly
hour
lost
,
for
the
minute
,
all
its
voice
.
But
there
was
no
other
change
in
nature
,
unless
indeed
it
were
a
change
that
I
saw
with
a
stranger
sharpness
.
The
gold
was
still
in
the
sky
,
the
clearness
in
the
air
,
and
the
man
who
looked
at
me
over
the
battlements
was
as
definite
as
a
picture
in
a
frame
.
That
's
how
I
thought
,
with
extraordinary
quickness
,
of
each
person
that
he
might
have
been
and
that
he
was
not
.
We
were
confronted
across
our
distance
quite
long
enough
for
me
to
ask
myself
with
intensity
who
then
he
was
and
to
feel
,
as
an
effect
of
my
inability
to
say
,
a
wonder
that
in
a
few
instants
more
became
intense
.
The
great
question
,
or
one
of
these
,
is
,
afterward
,
I
know
,
with
regard
to
certain
matters
,
the
question
of
how
long
they
have
lasted
.
Well
,
this
matter
of
mine
,
think
what
you
will
of
it
,
lasted
while
I
caught
at
a
dozen
possibilities
,
none
of
which
made
a
difference
for
the
better
,
that
I
could
see
,
in
there
having
been
in
the
house
--
and
for
how
long
,
above
all
?
--
a
person
of
whom
I
was
in
ignorance
.
It
lasted
while
I
just
bridled
a
little
with
the
sense
that
my
office
demanded
that
there
should
be
no
such
ignorance
and
no
such
person
.
It
lasted
while
this
visitant
,
at
all
events
--
and
there
was
a
touch
of
the
strange
freedom
,
as
I
remember
,
in
the
sign
of
familiarity
of
his
wearing
no
hat
--
seemed
to
fix
me
,
from
his
position
,
with
just
the
question
,
just
the
scrutiny
through
the
fading
light
,
that
his
own
presence
provoked
We
were
too
far
apart
to
call
to
each
other
,
but
there
was
a
moment
at
which
,
at
shorter
range
,
some
challenge
between
us
,
breaking
the
hush
,
would
have
been
the
right
result
of
our
straight
mutual
stare
.
He
was
in
one
of
the
angles
,
the
one
away
from
the
house
,
very
erect
,
as
it
struck
me
,
and
with
both
hands
on
the
ledge
.
So
I
saw
him
as
I
see
the
letters
I
form
on
this
page
;
then
,
exactly
,
after
a
minute
,
as
if
to
add
to
the
spectacle
,
he
slowly
changed
his
place
--
passed
,
looking
at
me
hard
all
the
while
,
to
the
opposite
corner
of
the
platform
.
Yes
,
I
had
the
sharpest
sense
that
during
this
transit
he
never
took
his
eyes
from
me
,
and
I
can
see
at
this
moment
the
way
his
hand
,
as
he
went
,
passed
from
one
of
the
crenelations
to
the
next
.
He
stopped
at
the
other
corner
,
but
less
long
,
and
even
as
he
turned
away
still
markedly
fixed
me
.
He
turned
away
;
that
was
all
I
knew
.
It
was
not
that
I
did
n't
wait
,
on
this
occasion
,
for
more
,
for
I
was
rooted
as
deeply
as
I
was
shaken
.
Was
there
a
"
secret
"
at
Bly
--
a
mystery
of
Udolpho
or
an
insane
,
an
unmentionable
relative
kept
in
unsuspected
confinement
?
I
ca
n't
say
how
long
I
turned
it
over
,
or
how
long
,
in
a
confusion
of
curiosity
and
dread
,
I
remained
where
I
had
had
my
collision
;
I
only
recall
that
when
I
re-entered
the
house
darkness
had
quite
closed
in
.
Agitation
,
in
the
interval
,
certainly
had
held
me
and
driven
me
,
for
I
must
,
in
circling
about
the
place
,
have
walked
three
miles
;
but
I
was
to
be
,
later
on
,
so
much
more
overwhelmed
that
this
mere
dawn
of
alarm
was
a
comparatively
human
chill
.
The
most
singular
part
of
it
,
in
fact
--
singular
as
the
rest
had
been
--
was
the
part
I
became
,
in
the
hall
,
aware
of
in
meeting
Mrs.
Grose
.
This
picture
comes
back
to
me
in
the
general
train
--
the
impression
,
as
I
received
it
on
my
return
,
of
the
wide
white
panelled
space
,
bright
in
the
lamplight
and
with
its
portraits
and
red
carpet
,
and
of
the
good
surprised
look
of
my
friend
,
which
immediately
told
me
she
had
missed
me
.
It
came
to
me
straightway
,
under
her
contact
,
that
,
with
plain
heartiness
,
mere
relieved
anxiety
at
my
appearance
,
she
knew
nothing
whatever
that
could
bear
upon
the
incident
I
had
there
ready
for
her
.
I
had
not
suspected
in
advance
that
her
comfortable
face
would
pull
me
up
,
and
I
somehow
measured
the
importance
of
what
I
had
seen
by
my
thus
finding
myself
hesitate
to
mention
it
.
