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as if death had descended on her； into Miss Tita's arms。
IX
I left Venice the next morning； as soon as I learned that the old
lady had not succumbed； as I feared at the moment； to the shock
I had given herthe shock I may also say she had given me。
How in the world could I have supposed her capable of getting out
of bed by herself？ I failed to see Miss Tita before going； I only saw
the donna； whom I entrusted with a note for her younger mistress。
In this note I mentioned that I should be absent but for a few days。
I went to Treviso； to Bassano； to Castelfranco； I took walks and drives and
looked at musty old churches with ill…lighted pictures and spent hours seated
smoking at the doors of cafes； where there were flies and yellow curtains；
on the shady side of sleepy little squares。 In spite of these pastimes；
which were mechanical and perfunctory； I scantily enjoyed my journey：
there was too strong a taste of the disagreeable in my life。
I had been devilish awkward； as the young men say； to be found by Miss
Bordereau in the dead of night examining the attachment of her bureau；
and it had not been less so to have to believe for a good many hours
afterward that it was highly probable I had killed her。 In writing
to Miss Tita I attempted to minimize these irregularities； but as she gave
me no word of answer I could not know what impression I made upon her。
It rankled in my mind that I had been called a publishing scoundrel；
for certainly I did publish and certainly I had not been very delicate。
There was a moment when I stood convinced that the only way to make up
for this latter fault was to take myself away altogether on the instant；
to sacrifice my hopes and relieve the two poor women forever of the oppression
of my intercourse。 Then I reflected that I had better try a short
absence first； for I must already have had a sense （unexpressed and dim）
that in disappearing completely it would not be merely my own hopes that I
should condemn to extinction。 It would perhaps be sufficient if I stayed
away long enough to give the elder lady time to think she was rid of me。
That she would wish to be rid of me after this （if I was not rid of her）
was now not to be doubted： that nocturnal scene would have cured her
of the disposition to put up with my company for the sake of my dollars。
I said to myself that after all I could not abandon Miss Tita； and I continued
to say this even while I observed that she quite failed to comply with my
earnest request （I had given her two or three addresses； at little towns；
post restante） that she would let me know how she was getting on。
I would have made my servant write to me but that he was unable to manage
a pen。 It struck me there was a kind of scorn in Miss Tita's silence
（little disdainful as she had ever been）； so that I was uncomfortable
and sore。 I had scruples about going back and yet I had others
about not doing so； for I wanted to put myself on a better footing。
The end of it was that I did return to Venice on the twelfth day；
and as my gondola gently bumped against Miss Bordereau's steps a certain
palpitation of suspense told me that I had done myself a violence
in holding off so long。
I had faced about so abruptly that I had not telegraphed to my servant。
He was therefore not at the station to meet me； but he poked
out his head from an upper window when I reached the house。
〃They have put her into the earth； la vecchia；〃 he said to me
in the lower hall； while he shouldered my valise； and he grinned
and almost winked； as if he knew I should be pleased at the news。
〃She's dead！〃 I exclaimed； giving him a very different look。
〃So it appears； since they have buried her。〃
〃It's all over？ When was the funeral？〃
〃The other yesterday。 But a funeral you could scarcely
call it； signore； it was a dull little passeggio of two gondolas。
Poveretta！〃 the man continued； referring apparently to Miss Tita。
His conception of funerals was apparently that they were mainly
to amuse the living。
I wanted to know about Miss Titahow she was and where she was
but I asked him no more questions till we had got upstairs。
Now that the fact had met me I took a bad view of it；
especially of the idea that poor Miss Tita had had to manage
by herself after the end。 What did she know about arrangements；
about the steps to take in such a case？ Poveretta indeed！
I could only hope that the doctor had given her assistance
and that she had not been neglected by the old friends
of whom she had told me； the little band of the faithful
whose fidelity consisted in coming to the house once a year。
I elicited from my servant that two old ladies and an old gentleman
had in fact rallied round Miss Tita and had supported her
（they had come for her in a gondola of their own） during the
journey to the cemetery； the little red…walled island of tombs
which lies to the north of the town； on the way to Murano。
It appeared from these circumstances that the Misses Bordereau
were Catholics； a discovery I had never made； as the old woman
could not go to church and her niece； so far as I perceived；
either did not or went only to early mass in the parish；
before I was stirring。 Certainly even the priests respected
their seclusion； I had never caught the whisk of the curato's skirt。
That evening； an hour later； I sent my servant down with five
words written on a card； to ask Miss Tita if she would see me
for a few moments。 She was not in the house； where he had
sought her； he told me when he came back； but in the garden
walking about to refresh herself and gathering flowers。
He had found her there and she would be very happy to see me。
I went down and passed half an hour with poor Miss Tita。
She had always had a look of musty mourning （as if she
were wearing out old robes of sorrow that would not come
to an end）； and in this respect there was no appreciable
change in her appearance。 But she evidently had been crying；
crying a great dealsimply； satisfyingly； refreshingly； with a
sort of primitive； retarded sense of loneliness and violence。
But she had none of the formalism or the self…consciousness
of grief； and I was almost surprised to see her standing
there in the first dusk with her hands full of flowers；
smiling at me with her reddened eyes。 Her white face；
in the frame of her mantilla； looked longer； leaner than usual。
I had had an idea that she would be a good deal disgusted
with mewould consider that I ought to have been on the spot
to advise her； to help her； and； though I was sure there
was no rancor in her composition and no great conviction
of the importance of her affairs； I had prepared myself
for a difference in her manner； for some little injured look；
half…familiar； half…estranged； which should say to my conscience；
〃Well； you are a nice person to have professed things！〃
But historic truth compels me to declare that Tita Bordereau