RODERICK HUDSON
Singleton declared that he would come delightedly, and Rowland left him at his work.
He met a number of his last winter's friends and found that Madame Grandoni, Miss Blanchard and Gloriani had again taken up the golden thread of Roman life. The ladies gave an excellent account of themselves: Madame Grandoni had been taking seabaths at Rimini and Miss Blanchard painting wild flowers in the Tyrol. Her complexion was somewhat browned, which was very becoming, and her flowers tossed their heads and rolled their eyes like so many little poetesses looking for rhymes. Gloriani had been in Paris and had come away in high good-humour, finding no one there in the artist-world with as long a head as his own. He came in a few days to Roderick's studio, one afternoon when Rowland was present. He examined the new figure with great deference, pronounced it tremendously trouvé, and abstained considerably from irritating prophecies. But Rowland fancied he observed certain signs of inward jubilation on the subtle sculptor's part, and walked away with him to learn his private opinion.
"Certainly; I liked it as well as I said," Gloriani declared in answer to Rowland's anxious query; "or rather I liked it a great deal better. I did n't say how much, for fear of making your friend angry. But one can leave him alone now, for he 's coming round. I told you he could n't keep up that flapping of his wings in the blue, and he has already come down to earth. Don't you see what I mean?"
"I don't particularly like the thing, you know," Rowland confessed.
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