Charles Stronger Strether

“ Chad returned. “Sally took a place, certainly; but it was never, I saw from the first moment, to be yours. No one—with us—will ever take yours. It wouldn’t be possible.”
“Ah of course,” sighed Strether, “I knew it. I believe you’re right. No one in the world, I imagine, was ever so portentously solemn. ”

“ Strether, for a moment, said nothing; then he spoke gravely, with a return of his dryness. "Oh, if you didn't do her justice———!"
"I should be a beast, eh?"
Strether devoted no time to saying what he would be; that, visibly, would take them far. If there was nothing for it but to repeat, however, repetition was no mistake. "You owe her everything—very much more than she can ever owe you. You've in other words duties to her of the most positive sort; and I don't see what other duties—as the others are presented to you—can be held to go before them."
Chad looked at him with a smile. ”

“ All that morning he sat at his desk staring at her picture, reproduced in half-tones on the first page of every newspaper in town—stared at it, and at the neighbouring likeness of Sir Charles in the uniform of his late regiment; read once more of Strelsa's first marriage with all its sequence of misery and degradation; read fulsome columns celebrating her beauty, her popularity, her expected engagement to one of the wealthiest Englishmen in the world.
"Once more, according to the newspapers, her engagement to Sir Charles was expected to be announced." ”

“ This little effect was sudden and rapid, so rapid that Strether's sense of it was separate only for an instant from a sharp start of his own. He too had, within the minute, taken in something, taken in that he knew the lady whose parasol, shifting as if to hide her face, made so fine a pink point in the shining scene. It was too prodigious, a chance in a million; but, if he knew the lady, the gentleman, who still showed his back and kept his distance, the gentleman, the coatless hero of the idyl, who had responded to her start, was, to match the marvel, none other than Chad. ”

“ He was a success, Waymarsh, in spite of overwork, or prostration, of sensible shrinkage, of his wife’s letters and of his not liking Europe. Strether would have reckoned his own career less futile had he been able to put into it anything so handsome as so much fine silence. One might one’s self easily have left Mrs. Waymarsh; and one would assuredly have paid one’s tribute to the ideal in covering with that attitude the derision of having been left by her. Her husband had held his tongue and had made a large income; and these were in especial the achievements as to which Strether envied him. ”

“ I bear on my back the huge load of our national consciousness, or, in other words—for it comes to that—of our nation itself. Of what is our nation composed but of the men and women individually on my shoulders? I don’t do it, you know, for any particular advantage. I don’t do it, for instance—some people do, you know—for money.”
Strether could only listen and wonder and weigh his chance. “And yet, affected as you are then to so many of your clients, you can scarcely be said to do it for love.” ”

“ She knew only too well how Stretchley's would feel towards the Sky-high. And George was Stretchley's, and she was the Sky-high! One sometimes reads of mésalliances in the papers or meets them among one's acquaintance. Never have I met one like this. The very fact of the occupation being in essence the same intensified the discrepancy and the contrast. Which, gentlemen, would surprise and, I may say, shock you more—that a duke should marry oil or soap, or that a really first-class purveyor should take his bride from a fried-fish shop? No man of perception can hesitate. ”

“ It was at all events over the shop-windows that he made, with Waymarsh, most free; though it would have been easier had not the latter most sensibly yielded to the appeal of the merely useful trades. He pierced with his sombre detachment the plate-glass of ironmongers and saddlers, while Strether flaunted an affinity with the dealers in stamped letter-paper and in smart neckties. Strether was in fact recurrently shameless in the presence of the tailors, though it was just over the heads of the tailors that his countryman most loftily looked. ”

“ And he was quite right," said Strether. "It would certainly have been nicer. Even when a thing's already nice there mostly is some other thing that would have been nicer—or as to which we wonder if it wouldn't. ”

“ Forrest's orders to his men were to "shoot at everything blue and keep up the scare." Streight's purpose was to make all haste forward to Rome, outriding his pursuers, and do what damage he could. But he had to deal with the "Rough Riders" of the Confederate army, men sure to keep on his track day and night, and give him no rest while a man on mule-back remained. ”

“ His friend listened with respect to his enumeration of these disparities; then she disposed of them at a stroke. “Those things are nothing when a woman’s hit. It’s very awful. She was hit.”
Strether, on his side, did justice to that plea. “Oh of course I saw she was hit. That she was hit was what we were busy with; that she was hit was our great affair. But somehow I couldn’t think of her as down in the dust. And as put there by our little Chad!”
“Yet wasn’t ‘your’ little Chad just your miracle?”
Strether admitted it. “Of course I moved among miracles. It was all phantasmagoric. ”

“ So then she had to take it, though still with her defeated protest. “It isn’t so much your being ‘right’—it’s your horrible sharp eye for what makes you so.”
“Oh but you’re just as bad yourself. You can’t resist me when I point that out.”
She sighed it at last all comically, all tragically, away. “I can’t indeed resist you.”
“Then there we are!” said Strether. ”

“ There was an experience on his interlocutor’s part that looked out at him from under the displaced hat, and that looked out moreover by a force of its own, the deep fact of its quantity and quality, and not through Chad’s intending bravado or swagger. That was then the way men marked out by women were—and also the men by whom the women were doubtless in turn sufficiently distinguished. It affected Strether for thirty seconds as a relevant truth, a truth which, however, the next minute, had fallen into its relation. ”

“ It was a part of the deep impression for Strether, and not the least of the deep interest, that they could so communicate—that Chad, in particular, could let her know he left it to her. He habitually left things to others, as Strether was so well aware, and it in fact came over our friend in these meditations that there had been as yet no such vivid illustration of his famous knowing how to live. ”

“ That’s when a woman pities.”
“Ah but I do help you!” she cheerfully insisted.
Again he looked at her hard, and then after a pause: “No you don’t!”
Her tortoise-shell, on its long chain, rattled down. “I help you with Sitting Bull. That’s a good deal.”
“Oh that, yes.” But Strether hesitated. “Do you mean he talks of me?”
“So that I have to defend you? No, never.’
“I see,” Strether mused. “It’s too deep.”
“That’s his only fault,” she returned—“that everything, with him, is too deep. He has depths of silence—which he breaks only at the longest intervals by a remark. ”

“ Meanwhile, however, the chance he had allowed for—the chance of being seen, in time, from the balcony—had become a fact. Two or three of the windows stood open to the violet air; and, before Strether had cut the knot by crossing, a young man had come out and looked about him, had lighted a cigarette and tossed the match over, and then, resting on the rail, had given himself up, while he smoked, to watching the life below. His arrival contributed, in its order, to keeping Strether in position; the result of which, in turn, was that Strether soon felt himself noticed. ”

“ Strether echoed again with a rueful reflexion. How many nosegays had her present converser sent?
“Innocent flowers,” she pursued, “as much as he likes. And he sends me splendours; he knows all the best places—he has found them for himself; he’s wonderful.”
“He hasn’t told them to me,” her friend smiled, “he has a life of his own.” But Strether had swung back to the consciousness that for himself after all it never would have done. Waymarsh hadn’t Mrs. Waymarsh in the least to consider, whereas Lambert Strether had constantly, in the inmost honour of his thoughts, to consider Mrs. Newsome. ”

“ Strether slowly echoed.
"The woman he likes—and just in proportion as he likes her. In proportion too—for shifting the trouble—as she likes him."
Strether followed it; then with an abruptness of his own: "How much do you like Chad?"
"Just as much as that—to take all, with you, on myself." But she got, more quickly, away from this. "I've been trembling as if we were to stand or fall by what you may think of me; and I'm even now," she went on wonderfully, "drawing a long breath—and, yes, truly, taking a great courage—from the hope that I don't, in fact, strike you as impossible." ”

“ Chad had risked it jocosely, but Strether remained blank. “Enough?”
“If one should wish to live on one’s accumulations?” After which, however, as his friend appeared cold to the joke, the young man as easily dropped it. “Of course I really never forget, night or day, what I owe her. I owe her everything. I give you my word of honour,” he frankly rang out, “that I’m not a bit tired of her.” Strether at this only gave him a stare: the way youth could express itself was again and again a wonder. ”

“ Strelsa flushed and lifted her purple-gray eyes to meet the little green ones scanning her slyly.
"I am sorry," she said, "but I couldn't discuss such a thing, you see. Don't you see I can't, dear Mrs. Sprowl?"
"Pooh! Rubbish! Anybody can discuss anything," rejoined the old lady with impersonal and boisterous informality. "I'm fond of you. Everybody knows it. I'm fond of Sir Charles. He's a fine figure of a man. You match him in everything, except wealth. ”

“ My getting all this good is what Chad has waited for, and I gather that if I'm ready to go he's the same."
She shook her head with a finer, deeper wisdom. "You're not ready. If you're ready, why did you write to Mrs. Newsome in the sense you've mentioned to me?"
Strether considered. "I shan't go before I hear from her. You're too much afraid of her," he added.
It produced between them a long look from which neither shrank. "I don't think you believe that—believe I've not really reason to fear her."
"She's capable of great generosity," Strether presently declared. ”

“ Mixed with everything was the apprehension, already, on Strether’s part, that it would, at best, throughout, prove the note of Europe in quite a sufficient degree.
That note had been meanwhile—since the previous afternoon, thanks to this happier device—such a consciousness of personal freedom as he hadn’t known for years; such a deep taste of change and of having above all for the moment nobody and nothing to consider, as promised already, if headlong hope were not too foolish, to colour his adventure with cool success. ”

“ It stirred in her friend a sceptical echo which was at the same time the protest of the faith of years. “Waymarsh stupid?”
“Compared with you.”
Strether had still his eyes on the jeweller’s front, and he waited a moment to answer. “He’s a success of a kind that I haven’t approached.”
“Do you mean he has made money?”
“He makes it—to my belief. And I,” said Strether, “though with a back quite as bent, have never made anything. I’m a perfectly equipped failure.”
He feared an instant she’d ask him if he meant he was poor ”

“ There was nothing at this moment in the air to challenge the combination; there was everything to give it on the contrary something of a flourish. It struck Strether into the bargain as doing something to meet the most difficult of the questions; though perhaps indeed only by substituting another. Wouldn’t it be precisely by having learned to be a gentleman that he had mastered the consequent trick of looking so well that one could scarce speak to him straight? But what in the world was the clue to such a prime producing cause? ”

“ There was a fascination for that critic in its not being, this ripe physiognomy, the face that, under observation at least, he had originally carried away from Woollett. Strether found a certain freedom on his own side in defining it as that of a man of the world—a formula that indeed seemed to come now in some degree to his relief; that of a man to whom things had happened and were variously known. In gleams, in glances, the past did perhaps peep out of it; but such lights were faint and instantly merged. Chad was brown and thick and strong, and of old Chad had been rough. ”

“ We may all be ravishing—nothing perhaps can be more easy for us; but she hasn’t come out to be ravished. She has come out just simply to take you home.”
“Oh well, with her I’ll go,” said Chad good-humouredly. “I suppose you’ll allow that.” And then as for a minute Strether said nothing: “Or is your idea that when I’ve seen her I shan’t want to go?” As this question, however, again left his friend silent he presently went on: “My own idea at any rate is that they shall have while they’re here the best sort of time.”
It was at this that Strether spoke. “Ah there you are! ”

“ Strether felt for a moment as if Sarah were actually walking up and down outside. Wasn’t she hanging about the porte-cochère while her friend thus summarily opened a way? Strether would meet her but to take it, and everything would be for the best in the best of possible worlds. He had never so much known what any one meant as, in the light of this demonstration, he knew what Mrs. Newsome did. It had reached Waymarsh from Sarah, but it had reached Sarah from her mother, and there was no break in the chain by which it reached him. ”