The Dark Flower | Page 8

balconies and low-hanging eaves
jutting far beyond the walls; these bright dresses of the peasant women;
the friendly little cream-coloured cows, with blunt, smoke-grey
muzzles. Even the feel in the air was new, that delicious crisp burning
warmth that lay so lightly as it were on the surface of frozen stillness;
and the special sweetness of all places at the foot of mountains-- scent
of pine-gum, burning larch-wood, and all the meadow flowers and
grasses. But newest of all was the feeling within him--a sort of pride, a
sense of importance, a queer exhilaration at being alone with her,
chosen companion of one so beautiful.
They passed all the other pilgrims bound the same way--stout square
Germans with their coats slung through straps, who trailed behind them
heavy alpenstocks, carried greenish bags, and marched stolidly at a
pace that never varied, growling, as Anna and the boy went by: "Aber
eilen ist nichts!"
But those two could not go fast enough to keep pace with their spirits.
This was no real climb--just a training walk to the top of the Nuvolau;
and they were up before noon, and soon again descending, very hungry.
When they entered the little dining-room of the Cinque Torre Hutte,
they found it occupied by a party of English people, eating omelettes,
who looked at Anna with faint signs of recognition, but did not cease
talking in voices that all had a certain half-languid precision, a slight
but brisk pinching of sounds, as if determined not to tolerate a drawl,
and yet to have one. Most of them had field-glasses slung round them,
and cameras were dotted here and there about the room. Their faces
were not really much alike, but they all had a peculiar drooping smile,
and a particular lift of the eyebrows, that made them seem
reproductions of a single type. Their teeth, too, for the most part were a
little prominent, as though the drooping of their mouths had forced
them forward. They were eating as people eat who distrust the lower
senses, preferring not to be compelled to taste or smell.

"From our hotel," whispered Anna; and, ordering red wine and
schnitzels, she and the boy sat down. The lady who seemed in
command of the English party inquired now how Mr. Stormer was--he
was not laid up, she hoped. No? Only lazy? Indeed! He was a great
climber, she believed. It seemed to the boy that this lady somehow did
not quite approve of them. The talk was all maintained between her, a
gentleman with a crumpled collar and puggaree, and a short thick-set
grey-bearded man in a dark Norfolk jacket. If any of the younger
members of the party spoke, the remark was received with an arch
lifting of the brows, and drooping of the lids, as who should say: "Ah!
Very promising!"
"Nothing in my life has given me greater pain than to observe the
aptitude of human nature for becoming crystallized." It was the lady in
command who spoke, and all the young people swayed their faces up
and down, as if assenting. How like they were, the boy thought, to
guinea-fowl, with their small heads and sloping shoulders and speckly
grey coats!
"Ah! my dear lady"--it was the gentleman with the crumpled collar--
"you novelists are always girding at the precious quality of conformity.
The sadness of our times lies in this questioning spirit. Never was there
more revolt, especially among the young. To find the individual
judging for himself is a grave symptom of national degeneration. But
this is not a subject--"
"Surely, the subject is of the most poignant interest to all young
people." Again all the young ones raised their faces and moved them
slightly from side to side.
"My dear lady, we are too prone to let the interest that things arouse
blind our judgment in regard to the advisability of discussing them. We
let these speculations creep and creep until they twine themselves
round our faith and paralyze it."
One of the young men interjected suddenly: "Madre"--and was silent.
"I shall not, I think"--it was the lady speaking--"be accused of licence

when I say that I have always felt that speculation is only dangerous
when indulged in by the crude intelligence. If culture has nothing to
give us, then let us have no culture; but if culture be, as I think it,
indispensable, then we must accept the dangers that culture brings."
Again the young people moved their faces, and again the younger of
the two young men said: "Madre--"
"Dangers? Have cultured people dangers?"
Who had spoken thus? Every eyebrow was going up, every mouth was
drooping, and there was silence. The boy stared at his companion. In
what a strange voice she had made that little interjection! There seemed
a sort