"Why, just to existence--which may contain after all, in one way and another, so much. It may contain at the worst even affections; affections in fact quite particularly; fixed, that is, on one's friends. I'm extremely fond of Maggie for instance--I quite adore her. How could I adore her more if I were married to one of the people you speak of?"
The Prince gave a laugh. "You might adore him more--!"
"Ah but it is n't, is it," she asked, "a question of that?"
"My dear friend," he returned, "it's always a question of doing the best for one's self one can--without injury to others." He felt by this time that they were indeed on an excellent basis; so he went on again as if to show frankly his sense of its firmness. "I venture therefore to repeat my hope that you'll marry some capital fellow; and also to repeat my belief that such a marriage will be more favourable to you, as you call it, than even the spirit of the age."
She looked at him at first only for answer, and would have appeared to take it with meekness had n't she perhaps appeared a little more to take it with gaiety. "Thank you very much," she simply said; but at that moment their friend was with them again. It was undeniable that as she came in Mrs. Assingham looked with a certain smiling sharpness from one of them to the other; the perception of which was perhaps what led Charlotte, for reassurance, to pass the question on. "The Prince hopes so much I shall still marry some good person."
(59) Whether it worked for Mrs. Assingham or not the Prince was himself, at this, more than ever reassured. He was SAFE, in a word--that was what it all meant; and he had required to be safe. He was really safe enough for almost any joke. "It's only," he explained to their hostess, "because of what Miss Stant has been telling me. Don't we want to keep up her courage?"
If the joke was broad he had n't at least begun it--not, that is, AS a joke; which was what his companion's address to their friend made of it.
"She has been trying in America, she says, but has n't brought it off."
The tone was somehow not what Mrs. Assingham had expected, but she made the best of it. "Well then," she replied to the young man, "if you take such an interest YOU must bring it off."
"And you must help, dear," Charlotte said unperturbed--"as you've helped, so beautifully, in such things before." With which, before Mrs. Assingham could meet the appeal, she had addressed herself to the Prince on a matter much nearer to him. "YOUR marriage is on Friday?--on Saturday?"
"Oh on Friday, no! For what do you take us? There's not a vulgar omen we're neglecting. On Saturday, please, at the Oratory, at three o'clock--before twelve assistants exactly."
"Twelve including ME?"
It struck him--he laughed. "You'll make the thirteenth. It won't do!"
"Not," said Charlotte, "if you're going in for 'omens.' Should you like me stay away?"
"Dear no--we'll manage. We'll make the round number--we'll have in some old woman. They must (60) keep them there for that, don't they?" Mrs. Assingham's return had at last indicated for him his departure; he had possessed himself again of his hat and approached her to take leave. But he had another word for Charlotte. "I dine to-night with Mr. Verver. Have you any message?"
The girl seemed to wonder a little. "For Mr. Verver?"
"For Maggie--about her seeing you early. That, I know, is what she'll like."
"Then I'll come early--thanks."
"I dare say," he went on," she'll send for you. I mean send a carriage."
"Oh I don't require that, thanks. I can go, for a penny, can't I?" she asked of Mrs. Assingham, "in an omnibus."
"Oh I say!" said the Prince while Mrs. Assingham looked at her blandly.
"Yes, love--and I'll give you the penny. She shall GET there," the good lady added to their friend.
But Charlotte, as the latter took leave of her, thought of something else. "There's a great favour, Prince, that I want to ask of you. I want, between this and Saturday, to make Maggie a marriage-present."
"Oh I say!" the young man again soothingly exclaimed.
"Ah but I MUST," she went on. "It's really almost for that I came back.
It was impossible to get in America what I wanted."
Mrs. Assingham showed anxiety. "What is it then, dear, you want?"
(61) But the girl looked only at their companion. "That's what the Prince, if he'll be so good, must help me to decide."
"Can't I," Mrs. Assingham asked, "help you to decide?"
"Certainly, darling, we must talk it well over." And she kept her eyes on the Prince. "But I want him, if he kindly will, to go with me to look.
I want him to judge with me and choose. That, if you can spare the hour," she said, "is the great favour I mean."
He raised his eyebrows at her--he wonderfully smiled. "What you came back from America to ask? Ah certainly then I must find the hour!" He wonderfully smiled, but it was after all rather more than he had been reckoning with.
It went somehow so little with the rest that, directly, for him, it was n't the note of safety; it preserved this character, at the best, but by being the note of publicity. Quickly, quickly, however, the note of publicity struck him as better than any other. In another moment even it seemed positively what he wanted; for what so much as publicity put their relation on the right footing? By this appeal to Mrs. Assingham it was established as right, and she immediately showed that such was her own understanding.
"Certainly, Prince," she laughed, "you must find the hour!" And it was really so express a licence from her, as representing friendly judgement, public opinion, the moral law, the margin allowed a husband about to be, or whatever, that, after observing to Charlotte that should she come to Portland Place in the morning he would make a point of being there to (62) see her and so arrange easily with her about a time, he took his departure with the absolutely confirmed impression of knowing, as he put it to himself, where he was. Which was what he had prolonged his visit for. He was where he could stay.
