He Knew He Was Right by Anthony Trollope (books you need to read .txt) 📕

‘WE SHALL BE SO POOR’

Mr Glascock at that moment was not only in Florence, but was occupying

rooms in the very hotel in which the Rowleys were staying. Lady Rowley,

when she heard that he was engaged to marry an American lady, became

suddenly very sick at heart sick with a sickness that almost went

beyond her heart. She felt ill, and was glad to be alone. The rumour

might be untrue. Such rumours generally are untrue. But then, as Lady

Rowley knew very well, they generally have some foundation in truth. Mr

Glascock, if he were not actually engaged to the American girl, had

probably been flirting with her and, if so, where was that picture

which Lady Rowley had been painting for herself of a love-lorn swain to

be brought back to the pleasures and occupations of the world only by

the girl of whom he was enamoured? But still she would not quite give

up the project. Mr Glascock, if he was in Italy, would no doubt see by

the newspapers that Sir Marmaduke and his family were in Florence and

would probably come to them. Then, if Nora would only behave herself,

the American girl might still be conquered.

During two or three days after this nothing was seen or heard of Mr

Glascock. Had Lady Rowley thought of mentioning the name to the waiter

at the hotel, she would have learned that he was living in the next

passage; but it did not occur to her to seek information in that

fashion. Nor did she ask direct questions in other quarters about Mr

Glascock himself. She did, however, make inquiry about Americans living

in Florence, especially about the American Minister and, before a week

had passed overhead, had been introduced to the Spaldings. Mrs Spalding

was very civil, and invited Lady Rowley and all the girls and Sir

Marmaduke to come to her on her ‘Fridays.’ She received her friends

every Friday, and would continue to do so till the middle of June. She

had nieces who would, she said, be so happy to make the acquaintance of

the Miss Rowleys.

By this time the picture galleries, the churches, and the palaces in

Florence had nearly all been visited. Poor Lady Rowley had dragged

herself wearily from sight to sight, hoping always to meet with Mr

Glascock, ignorant of the fact that residents in a town do not pass

their mornings habitually in looking after pictures. During this time

inquiries were being made, through the police, respecting Trevelyan;

and Sir Marmaduke had obtained information that an English gentleman,

with a little boy, had gone on to Siena, and had located himself there.

There seemed to be but little doubt that this was Trevelyan, though

nothing had been learned with certainty as to the gentleman’s name. It

had been decided that Sir Marmaduke, with his courier and Mrs

Trevelyan, should go on to Siena, and endeavour to come upon the

fugitive, and they had taken their departure on a certain morning. On

that same day Lady Rowley was walking with Nora and one of the other

girls through the hall of the hotel, when they were met in full face by

Mr Glascock! Lady Rowley and Lucy were in front, and they, of course,

did not know the man. Nora had seen him at once, and in her confusion

hardly knew how to bear herself. Mr Glascock was passing by her without

recognising her had passed her mother and sister, and had so far gone

on, that Nora had determined to make no sign, when he chanced to look

up and see who it was that was so close to him. ‘Miss Rowley,’ he said,

‘who thought of meeting you in Florence!’ Lady Rowley, of course,

turned round, and there was an introduction. Poor Nora, though she knew

nothing of her mother’s schemes, was confused and ill at ease. Mr

Glascock was very civil, but at the same time rather cold. Lady Rowley

was all smiles and courtesy. She had, she said, heard his name from her

daughters, and was very happy to make his acquaintance. Lucy looked on

somewhat astonished to find that the lover whom her sister had been

blamed for rejecting, and who was spoken of with so many encomiums, was

so old a man. Mr Glascock asked after Mrs Trevelyan; and Lady Rowley,

in a low, melancholy whisper, told him that they were now all in

Florence, in the hope of meeting Mr Trevelyan. ‘You have heard the sad

story, I know, Mr Glascock, and therefore I do not mind telling you.’ Mr

Glascock acknowledged that he did know the story, and informed her that

he had seen Mr Trevelyan in Florence within the last ten days. This was

so interesting, that, at Lady Rowley’s request, he went with them up to

their rooms, and in this way the acquaintance was made. It turned out

that Mr Glascock had spoken to Mr Trevelyan, and that Trevelyan had

told him that he meant for the present to take up his residence in some

small Italian town. ‘And how was he looking, Mr Glascock?’

‘Very ill, Lady Rowley, very ill, indeed.’

‘Do not tell her so, Mr Glascock. She has gone now with her father to

Siena. We think that he is there, with the boy or, at least, that he

may be heard of there. And you you are living here?’ Mr Glascock said

that he was living between Naples and Florence, going occasionally to

Naples, a place that he hated, to see his father, and coming back at

intervals to the capital. Nora sat by, and hardly spoke a word. She was

nicely dressed, with an exquisite little bonnet, which had been bought

as they came through Paris; and Lady Rowley, with natural pride, felt

that if he was ever in love with her child, that love must come back

upon him now. American girls, she had been told, were hard, and dry,

and sharp, and angular. She had seen some at the Mandarins, with whom

she thought it must be impossible that any Englishman should be in

love. There never, surely, had been an American girl like her Nora.

‘Are you fond of pictures, Mr Glascock?’ she asked. Mr Glascock was not

very fond of pictures, and thought that he was rather tired of them.

What was he fond of? Of sitting at home and doing nothing. That was his

reply, at least; and a very unsatisfactory reply it was, as Lady Rowley

could hardly propose that they should come and sit and do nothing with

him. Could he have been lured into churches or galleries, Nora might

have been once more thrown into his company. Then Lady Rowley took

courage, and asked him whether he knew the Spaldings. They were going

to Mrs Spalding’s that very evening, she and her daughters. Mr Glascock

replied that he did know the Spaldings, and that he also should be at

their house. Lady Rowley thought that she discovered something like a

blush about his cheekbones and brow, as he made his answer. Then he

left them, giving his hand to Nora as he went but there was nothing in

his manner to justify the slightest hope.

‘I don’t think he is nice at all,’ said Lucy.

‘Don’t be so foolish, Lucy,’ said Lady Rowley angrily.

‘I think he is very nice,’ said Nora. ‘He was only talking nonsense

when he said that he liked to