Page:The Golden Bowl (Scribner, New York, 1909), Volume 1.djvu/253

THE PRINCE fiercely asked, "anything but a father?" But he went on before she could answer. "You talk about differences, but they've been already made—as no one knows better than Maggie. She feels the one she made herself by her own marriage—made I mean for me. She constantly thinks of it—it allows her no rest. To put her at peace is therefore," he explained, "what I'm trying, with you, to do. I can't do it alone, but I can do it with your help. You can make her," he said, "positively happy about me."

"About you?" she thoughtfully echoed. "But what can I make her about herself?"

"Oh if she's at ease about me the rest will take care of itself. The case," he declared, "is in your hands. You'll effectually put out of her mind that I feel she has abandoned me."

Interest certainly now was what he had kindled in her face, but it was all the more honourable to her, as he had just called it, that she should want to see each of the steps of his conviction. "If you've been driven to the 'likes' of me mayn't it show that you've truly felt forsaken?"

"Well, I'm willing to suggest that, if I can show at the same time that I feel consoled."

"But have you," she demanded, "really felt so?"

He thought. "Consoled?"

"Forsaken."

"No—I haven't. But if it's her idea—!" If it was her idea, in short, that was enough. This enunciation of motive the next moment however sounded to him perhaps slightly thin, so that he gave it another touch. "That is if it's my idea. I happen, you see, to like my idea." 223