Chapter 20 - Page 2

chin, and we went downstairs
together. The reception rooms through which we passed were lofty
and of great size, and seemed to be richly furnished with marble
and gilt ornaments, chintz-covered settees, and a number of
mirrors. Presently Madame Iwin met us, and we went into a little
room behind the drawing-room, where, welcoming me in very
friendly fashion, she seated herself by my side, and began to
inquire after my relations.

Closer acquaintance with Madame (whom I had seen only twice
before, and that but for a moment on each occasion) impressed me
favourably. She was tall, thin, and very pale, and looked as
though she suffered from chronic depression and fatigue. Yet,
though her smile was a sad one, it was very kind, and her large,
mournful eyes, with a slight cast in their vision, added to the
pathos and attractiveness of her expression. Her attitude, while
not precisely that of a hunchback, made her whole form droop,
while her every movement expressed languor. Likewise, though her
speech was deliberate, the timbre of her voice, and the manner in
which she lisped her r's and l's, were very pleasing to the ear.
Finally, she did not "ENTERTAIN" me. Unfortunately, the answers
which I returned to her questions concerning my relations seemed
to afford her a painful interest, and to remind her of happier
days: with the result that when, presently, her son left the
room, she gazed at me in silence for a moment, and then burst
into tears. As I sat there in mute bewilderment, I could not
conceive what I had said to bring this about. At first I felt
sorry for her as she sat there weeping with downcast eyes. Next
I began to think to myself: "Ought I not to try and comfort her,
and how ought that to be done?" Finally, I began to feel vexed
with her for placing me in such an awkward position. "Surely my
appearance is not so moving as all that?" I reflected. "Or is she
merely acting like this to see what I shall do under the
circumstances?"

"Yet it would not do for me to go," I continued to myself, for
that would look too much as though I were fleeing to escape her
tears." Accordingly I began fidgeting about on my seat, in order
to remind her of my presence.

"Oh, how foolish of me!" at length she said, as she gazed at me
for a moment and tried to smile. "There are days when one weeps
for no reason whatever." She felt about for her handkerchief, and
then burst out weeping more violently than before.

"Oh dear! How silly of me to be for ever crying like this! Yet I
was so fond of your mother! We were such friends! We-we--"

At this point she found her handkerchief, and, burying her face
in