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- Генри Джеймс
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Then
he
became
as
communicative
as
we
could
desire
and
indeed
gave
us
his
best
reason
for
being
so
.
We
had
it
from
him
again
before
the
fire
in
the
hall
,
as
we
had
had
our
mild
wonders
of
the
previous
night
.
It
appeared
that
the
narrative
he
had
promised
to
read
us
really
required
for
a
proper
intelligence
a
few
words
of
prologue
.
Let
me
say
here
distinctly
,
to
have
done
with
it
,
that
this
narrative
,
from
an
exact
transcript
of
my
own
made
much
later
,
is
what
I
shall
presently
give
.
Poor
Douglas
,
before
his
death
--
when
it
was
in
sight
--
committed
to
me
the
manuscript
that
reached
him
on
the
third
of
these
days
and
that
,
on
the
same
spot
,
with
immense
effect
,
he
began
to
read
to
our
hushed
little
circle
on
the
night
of
the
fourth
.
The
departing
ladies
who
had
said
they
would
stay
did
n't
,
of
course
,
thank
heaven
,
stay
:
they
departed
,
in
consequence
of
arrangements
made
,
in
a
rage
of
curiosity
,
as
they
professed
,
produced
by
the
touches
with
which
he
had
already
worked
us
up
.
But
that
only
made
his
little
final
auditory
more
compact
and
select
,
kept
it
,
round
the
hearth
,
subject
to
a
common
thrill
.
The
first
of
these
touches
conveyed
that
the
written
statement
took
up
the
tale
at
a
point
after
it
had
,
in
a
manner
,
begun
.
The
fact
to
be
in
possession
of
was
therefore
that
his
old
friend
,
the
youngest
of
several
daughters
of
a
poor
country
parson
,
had
,
at
the
age
of
twenty
,
on
taking
service
for
the
first
time
in
the
schoolroom
,
come
up
to
London
,
in
trepidation
,
to
answer
in
person
an
advertisement
that
had
already
placed
her
in
brief
correspondence
with
the
advertiser
.
This
person
proved
,
on
her
presenting
herself
,
for
judgment
,
at
a
house
in
Harley
Street
,
that
impressed
her
as
vast
and
imposing
--
this
prospective
patron
proved
a
gentleman
,
a
bachelor
in
the
prime
of
life
,
such
a
figure
as
had
never
risen
,
save
in
a
dream
or
an
old
novel
,
before
a
fluttered
,
anxious
girl
out
of
a
Hampshire
vicarage
.
One
could
easily
fix
his
type
;
it
never
,
happily
,
dies
out
.
He
was
handsome
and
bold
and
pleasant
,
off-hand
and
gay
and
kind
.
He
struck
her
,
inevitably
,
as
gallant
and
splendid
,
but
what
took
her
most
of
all
and
gave
her
the
courage
she
afterward
showed
was
that
he
put
the
whole
thing
to
her
as
a
kind
of
favor
,
an
obligation
he
should
gratefully
incur
.
She
conceived
him
as
rich
,
but
as
fearfully
extravagant
--
saw
him
all
in
a
glow
of
high
fashion
,
of
good
looks
,
of
expensive
habits
,
of
charming
ways
with
women
.
He
had
for
his
own
town
residence
a
big
house
filled
with
the
spoils
of
travel
and
the
trophies
of
the
chase
;
but
it
was
to
his
country
home
,
an
old
family
place
in
Essex
,
that
he
wished
her
immediately
to
proceed
.
He
had
been
left
,
by
the
death
of
their
parents
in
India
,
guardian
to
a
small
nephew
and
a
small
niece
,
children
of
a
younger
,
a
military
brother
,
whom
he
had
lost
two
years
before
.
These
children
were
,
by
the
strangest
of
chances
for
a
man
in
his
position
--
a
lone
man
without
the
right
sort
of
experience
or
a
grain
of
patience
--
very
heavily
on
his
hands
.
It
had
all
been
a
great
worry
and
,
on
his
own
part
doubtless
,
a
series
of
blunders
,
but
he
immensely
pitied
the
poor
chicks
and
had
done
all
he
could
;
had
in
particular
sent
them
down
to
his
other
house
,
the
proper
place
for
them
being
of
course
the
country
,
and
kept
them
there
,
from
the
first
,
with
the
best
people
he
could
find
to
look
after
them
,
parting
even
with
his
own
servants
to
wait
on
them
and
going
down
himself
,
whenever
he
might
,
to
see
how
they
were
doing
.
The
awkward
thing
was
that
they
had
practically
no
other
relations
and
that
his
own
affairs
took
up
all
his
time
.
He
had
put
them
in
possession
of
Bly
,
which
was
healthy
and
secure
,
and
had
placed
at
the
head
of
their
little
establishment
--
but
below
stairs
only
--
an
excellent
woman
,
Mrs.
Grose
,
whom
he
was
sure
his
visitor
would
like
and
who
had
formerly
been
maid
to
his
mother
.
She
was
now
housekeeper
and
was
also
acting
for
the
time
as
superintendent
to
the
little
girl
,
of
whom
,
without
children
of
her
own
,
she
was
,
by
good
luck
,
extremely
fond
.
There
were
plenty
of
people
to
help
,
but
of
course
the
young
lady
who
should
go
down
as
governess
would
be
in
supreme
authority
.
She
would
also
have
,
in
holidays
,
to
look
after
the
small
boy
,
who
had
been
for
a
term
at
school
--
young
as
he
was
to
be
sent
,
but
what
else
could
be
done
?
--
and
who
,
as
the
holidays
were
about
to
begin
,
would
be
back
from
one
day
to
the
other
.
There
had
been
for
the
two
children
at
first
a
young
lady
whom
they
had
had
the
misfortune
to
lose
.
She
had
done
for
them
quite
beautifully
--
she
was
a
most
respectable
person
--
till
her
death
,
the
great
awkwardness
of
which
had
,
precisely
,
left
no
alternative
but
the
school
for
little
Miles
.
Mrs.
Grose
,
since
then
,
in
the
way
of
manners
and
things
,
had
done
as
she
could
for
Flora
;
and
there
were
,
further
,
a
cook
,
a
housemaid
,
a
dairywoman
,
an
old
pony
,
an
old
groom
,
and
an
old
gardener
,
all
likewise
thoroughly
respectable
.
So
far
had
Douglas
presented
his
picture
when
someone
put
a
question
.
"
And
what
did
the
former
governess
die
of
?
--
of
so
much
respectability
?
"
Our
friend
's
answer
was
prompt
.
"
That
will
come
out
.
I
do
n't
anticipate
.
"
"
Excuse
me
--
I
thought
that
was
just
what
you
are
doing
.
"
"
In
her
successor
's
place
,
"
I
suggested
,
"
I
should
have
wished
to
learn
if
the
office
brought
with
it
--
"
