RODERICK HUDSON
And if you 're a novice, Mr. Hudson," she went on, "you 've already great admirers. Half a dozen people have told us that yours were quite among the things to see." This amiability, however, went unanswered; Roderick had already wandered across to the other side of the studio and was revolving about Miss Light. "Ah, he 's gone to look at my beautiful daughter; he 's not the first that has had his head turned," the irrepressible lady resumed, lowering her voice to a confidential undertone; a favour which, considering the shortness of their acquaintance, Rowland was bound to appreciate. "The artists are all crazy about her. When she goes into a studio she 's fatal to the pictures. And when she goes into the ball-room what do the other women say? Eh, Cavaliere mio?"
"She 's very very beautiful," Rowland said simply. Mrs. Light, who through her long gold-cased glasses was looking a little at everything and at no thing as if she saw it, interrupted her random murmurs and exclamations and surveyed Rowland from head to foot. She eyed him all over; apparently he had not been mentioned to her as a feature of Roderick's establishment. It was the challenge, Rowland felt, which the vigilant and ambitious mother of a beautiful daughter has always at her command for well-appointed young men. Her inspection in this case seemed satisfactory. "Are you also an artist?" she inquired with an almost affectionate inflexion. It was clear that what she meant was something of this kind: "Be so good as to assure me without delay that you 're really the rather manageable young man of fortune that you appear."
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