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    The Chaperon
    The Chaperon
    The Chaperon
    Ebook60 pages59 minutes

    The Chaperon

    By Henry James

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    Dodo Collections brings you another classic from James Henry, ‘The Chaperon.’
     
    “An old lady, in a high drawing-room, had had her chair moved close to the fire, where she sat knitting and warming her knees.  She was dressed in deep mourning; her face had a faded nobleness, tempered, however, by the somewhat illiberal compression assumed by her lips in obedience to something that was passing in her mind.  She was far from the lamp, but though her eyes were fixed upon her active needles she was not looking at them.  What she really saw was quite another train of affairs.  The room was spacious and dim; the thick London fog had oozed into it even through its superior defences.  It was full of dusky, massive, valuable things.  The old lady sat motionless save for the regularity of her clicking needles, which seemed as personal to her and as expressive as prolonged fingers.  If she was thinking something out, she was thinking it thoroughly.”
     
    Henry James, OM, son of theologian Henry James Sr., brother of the philosopher and psychologist William James and diarist Alice James, was an American-born author, one of the founders and leaders of a school of realism in fiction. He spent much of his life in England and became a British subject shortly before his death. He is primarily known for a series of major novels in which he portrayed the encounter of America with Europe. His plots centered on personal relationships, the proper exercise of power in such relationships, and other moral questions. His method of writing from the point of view of a character within a tale allowed him to explore the phenomena of consciousness and perception, and his style in later works has been compared to impressionist painting.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDead Dodo Presents Henry James
    Release dateSep 14, 2015
    ISBN9781508027690
    Author

    Henry James

    Henry James (1843–1916) was an American writer, highly regarded as one of the key proponents of literary realism, as well as for his contributions to literary criticism. His writing centres on the clash and overlap between Europe and America, and The Portrait of a Lady is regarded as his most notable work.

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      Book preview

      The Chaperon - Henry James

      THE CHAPERON

      ..................

      Henry James

      DODO CLASSICS

      Thank you for reading. In the event that you appreciate this book, please consider sharing the good word(s) by leaving a review, or connect with the author.

      This book is a work of fiction; its contents are wholly imagined.

      All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

      Copyright © 2015 by Henry James

      Interior design by Pronoun

      Distribution by Pronoun

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      CHAPTER I.
      CHAPTER II.

      CHAPTER I.

      ..................

      AN OLD LADY, IN A HIGH drawing-room, had had her chair moved close to the fire, where she sat knitting and warming her knees. She was dressed in deep mourning; her face had a faded nobleness, tempered, however, by the somewhat illiberal compression assumed by her lips in obedience to something that was passing in her mind. She was far from the lamp, but though her eyes were fixed upon her active needles she was not looking at them. What she really saw was quite another train of affairs. The room was spacious and dim; the thick London fog had oozed into it even through its superior defences. It was full of dusky, massive, valuable things. The old lady sat motionless save for the regularity of her clicking needles, which seemed as personal to her and as expressive as prolonged fingers. If she was thinking something out, she was thinking it thoroughly.

      When she looked up, on the entrance of a girl of twenty, it might have been guessed that the appearance of this young lady was not an interruption of her meditation, but rather a contribution to it. The young lady, who was charming to behold, was also in deep mourning, which had a freshness, if mourning can be fresh, an air of having been lately put on. She went straight to the bell beside the chimney-piece and pulled it, while in her other hand she held a sealed and directed letter. Her companion glanced in silence at the letter; then she looked still harder at her work. The girl hovered near the fireplace, without speaking, and after a due, a dignified interval the butler appeared in response to the bell. The time had been sufficient to make the silence between the ladies seem long. The younger one asked the butler to see that her letter should be posted; and after he had gone out she moved vaguely about the room, as if to give her grandmother—for such was the elder personage—a chance to begin a colloquy of which she herself preferred not to strike the first note. As equally with herself her companion was on the face of it capable of holding out, the tension, though it was already late in the evening, might have lasted long. But the old lady after a little appeared to recognise, a trifle ungraciously, the girl’s superior resources.

      Have you written to your mother?

      Yes, but only a few lines, to tell her I shall come and see her in the morning.

      Is that all you’ve got to say? asked the grandmother.

      I don’t quite know what you want me to say.

      I want you to say that you’ve made up your mind.

      Yes, I’ve done that, granny.

      You intend to respect your father’s wishes?

      It depends upon what you mean by respecting them. I do justice to the feelings by which they were dictated.

      What do you mean by justice? the old lady retorted.

      The girl was silent a moment; then she said: You’ll see my idea of it.

      I see it already! You’ll go and live with her.

      I shall talk the situation over with her to-morrow and tell her that I think that will be best.

      Best for her, no doubt!

      What’s best for her is best for me.

      And for your brother and sister? As the girl made no reply to this her grandmother went on: What’s best for them is that you should acknowledge some responsibility in regard to them and, considering how young they are, try and do something for them.

      They must do as I’ve done—they must act for themselves. They have their means now, and they’re free.

      Free? They’re mere children.

      Let me remind you that Eric is older than I.

      He doesn’t like his mother, said the old lady, as if that were an answer.

      I never said he did. And she adores him.

      Oh, your mother’s adorations!

      Don’t abuse her now, the girl rejoined, after a pause.

      The old lady forbore to abuse her, but she made up for it the next moment by saying: It will be dreadful for Edith.

      What will be dreadful?

      "Your

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