Page:The Novels and Tales of Henry James, Volume 1 (New York, Charles Scribner's Sons, 1907).djvu/366

 his mother, in the carriage, on the way, with a fine mixture of filial and professional interest. Mrs. Hudson looked up ruefully at the high, sinister houses and grasped the side of the barouche as if she were launched in deep seas. Rowland sat opposite to Miss Garland, who appeared for the time totally oblivious of her companions. From the moment the carriage left the hotel she sat gazing wide-eyed and absorbed at the objects about them. If Rowland had felt more reckless he might have made a joke, or even a greater affair, of the dead weight of this tribute to the magic of Rome, the most candid, in a manner, that he had ever seen paid. From time to time he told her the name of a place or a building, and she nodded without looking at him. When they emerged into the great square between Bernini's colonnades she laid her hand on Mrs. Hudson's arm and sank back in the carriage, staring up at the golden immensities. Within the high doors at last Roderick gave his arm to his mother, and Rowland constituted himself the guide of the younger lady. He walked with her slowly everywhere, making the entire circuit and telling her all he knew, trying to tell her all he felt. This was no small matter, but she listened attentively, keeping her eyes on the dome. For Rowland himself it had never had such consecrating power; even, as might be, of the hushed human passions beneath it. He felt, in this promotion of its effect, almost as if he had designed it and had a right to be proud of it. He left Mary Garland awhile on the steps of the choir, where she had seated herself to rest, and went to join their companions. Mrs. Hudson was watching a circle of tattered contadini 332