Page 86 - the-portrait-of-a-lady

der. ‘A character like that,’ he said to himself,—‘a real little
passionate force to see at play is the finest thing in nature.’
It’s finer than the finest work of art—than a Greek bas-relief,
than a great Titian, than a Gothic cathedral. It’s very pleas-
ant to be so well treated where one had least looked for it.
I had never been more blue, more bored, than for a week
before she came; I had never expected less that anything
pleasant would happen. Suddenly I receive a Titian, by the
post, to hang on my wall—a Greek bas-relief to stick over
my chimney-piece. The key of a beautiful edifice is thrust
into my hand, and I’m told to walk in and admire. My poor
boy, you’ve been sadly ungrateful, and now you had better
keep very quiet and never grumble again.’ The sentiment
of these reflexions was very just; but it was not exactly true
that Ralph Touchett had had a key put into his hand. His
cousin was a very brilliant girl, who would take, as he said, a
good deal of knowing; but she needed the knowing, and his
attitude with regard to her, though it was contemplative and
critical, was not judicial. He surveyed the edifice from the
outside and admired it greatly; he looked in at the windows
and received an impression of proportions equally fair. But
he felt that he saw it only by glimpses and that he had not
yet stood under the roof. The door was fastened, and though
he had keys in his pocket he had a conviction that none of
them would fit. She was intelligent and generous; it was a
fine free nature; but what was she going to do with herself?
This question was irregular, for with most women one had
no occasion to ask it. Most women did with themselves
nothing at all; they waited, attitudes more or less graceful-

86 The Portrait of a Lady