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CHAPTER TWO

Mrs Costello

The next day, Winterbourne went to see his aunt in her room.

‘I hope you’re feeling better,’ he said.

‘A little,’ replied Mrs Costello. She was a rich widow and an important figure of New York society. She had a long pale face and a lot of white hair. She had two married sons in New York and a third son who was travelling in Europe but had not come to see her. Winterbourne had come to Vevey just to see his aunt. She often told him that he paid more attention to her than her own sons did.

‘Have you noticed an American family here at the hotel?’ asked Winterbourne. ‘A family called Miller?’

‘A mother, a daughter, a little boy, and a courier? Oh, yes! I’ve noticed them!’ said Mrs Costello. ‘I confess I’m very exclusive, but in New York you have to be. There are so many vulgar people in society these days. That Miller family is a perfect example.’

‘The young girl is very pretty,’ said Winterbourne.

‘Of course she’s pretty, but she’s very vulgar. She’s too friendly with the courier. Her mother is just as bad. They treat the courier like a family friend. He probably eats dinner with them. I’m sure they’ve never seen a man with such good manners, such fine clothes, so like a gentleman! He sits with them in the garden and smokes cigars.’

‘I see what you mean, of course,’ said the young man, ‘but I met the young lady in the garden. I’d like to introduce her to you.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t meet her! Why do you want to introduce her to me?’

‘To guarantee my respectability.’

‘But who’ll guarantee hers?’

‘Ah, you’re cruel!’ said the young man. ‘She’s a very nice girl and completely unsophisticated. I’m going to take her to the Castle of Chillon.’

‘Really? And how long had you known her when this plan was formed?’ asked Mrs Costello in surprise.

‘Half an hour!’ said Winterbourne, smiling.

‘Oh, what a terrible girl!’ cried Mrs Costello. ‘My dear Frederick, you’ve been away from America too long. You’re too innocent. You’ll make some great mistake.’

‘I’m not so innocent!’

‘You’re too guilty, then!’

Winterbourne sat in silence for a while then said, ‘So I can’t introduce her to you?’

‘No. I can’t accept a girl who talks to strangers in hotels.’

‘But don’t all the young girls in America do that sort of thing?’

‘My grand-daughters don’t do that sort of thing!’ said Mrs Costello.

Winterbourne had heard his pretty cousins in New York described as ‘terrible flirts’. If Miss Daisy Miller did things that his cousins did not do, she must be very unconventional indeed. Winterbourne was impatient to see her again.

That evening, he met Miss Daisy Miller walking in the garden. She seemed very pleased to see him.

‘Have you been walking here all alone?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘I’ve been walking with Mother, but she’s gone to find Randolph. She wants him to go to bed. He doesn’t like to go to bed before eleven.’

Winterbourne and Daisy walked in the garden together. ‘I hear that your aunt is very exclusive,’ said Daisy. ‘I want to meet her. I know I’ll like her.’

Winterbourne was embarrassed. ‘I’m afraid she often has headaches,’ he said.

Daisy looked at him for a moment then said, ‘She doesn’t want to meet me! Why don’t you just say so? You needn’t be afraid. I’m not afraid!’ She gave a little nervous laugh.

Winterbourne wanted to comfort her. He wanted to tell her that his aunt was a snob and that her opinion was not important. But just then a lady came into the garden and stood at a distance from them, looking out at the lake.

‘Oh. There’s Mother,’ said Daisy Miller.

Mrs Miller was a small nervous-looking person, very elegantly dressed, with enormous diamonds in her ears.

‘I should go,’ said Winterbourne.

‘No, no,’ replied Daisy. ‘I want to introduce you to Mother. I always introduce my gentlemen friends to Mother.’

‘She doesn’t seem to want to be introduced to me,’ said Winterbourne, since Mrs Miller still had not looked at him.

‘She’s very shy,’ Daisy explained, then she took Winterbourne over to meet her mother. ‘Mother, this is Mr Winterbourne,’ said Daisy very prettily. Yes, Miss Daisy Miller was vulgar, as Mrs Costello had said, but Winterbourne thought she also had an unusual and delicate grace.

‘Did you convince Randolph to go to bed?’ asked Daisy.

‘No,’ replied Mrs Miller. ‘He won’t go.’

‘He won’t do what he’s told,’ said Daisy. ‘He won’t go to that castle either, so I’m going with Mr Winterbourne.’

‘It’s a beautiful castle, Mrs Miller,’ said Winterbourne. ‘Don’t you want to see it?’

‘No, thank you,’ said Mrs Miller. ‘Daisy will go, though.’ Winterbourne thought how very different Mrs Miller was from the vigilant mothers of Geneva. They never let their daughters go anywhere unprotected.

‘Mr Winterbourne,’ said Daisy suddenly. ‘Will you take me out in a boat?’

‘Now?’

‘Yes, now.’

‘Well, Annie Miller!’ cried her mother.

‘I’m sure that Mr Winterbourne wants to take me out in a boat!’ said Daisy, laughing.

‘But what time is it? I’m sure it’s time to go to bed!’ said Mrs Miller.

‘It’s eleven o’clock, madam,’ said a voice from the darkness. ‘Oh, Eugenio,’ said Daisy. ‘I’m going out in a boat!’

‘At eleven o’clock, mademoiselle?’

‘Please tell her she can’t go,’ said Mrs Miller to the courier. ‘Does mademoiselle want to go alone?’ asked Eugenio.

‘No,’ Mrs Miller replied. ‘She wants to go with this gentleman!’ Eugenio looked at Winterbourne, then he said, ‘As mademoiselle pleases.’

‘Why don’t you say no?’ said Daisy to the courier. ‘I don’t want to go now.’ She turned to Winterbourne, smiled, and said, ‘Good night. I hope you’re disgusted or disappointed or something.’

‘I’m confused,’ said Winterbourne. He stood and watched the two ladies and their courier as they walked back into the hotel.