I had perfectly considered the possibility that she would destroy her papers on the day she should feel her end really approach.
I believed that she would cling to them till then, and I think I had an idea that she read Aspern's letters over every night or at least pressed them to her withered lips.I would have given a good deal to have a glimpse of the latter spectacle.
I asked Miss Tita if the old lady were seriously ill, and she replied that she was only very tired--she had lived so very, very long.That was what she said herself--she wanted to die for a change.Besides, all her friends were dead long ago;either they ought to have remained or she ought to have gone.
That was another thing her aunt often said--she was not at all content.
"But people don't die when they like, do they?" Miss Tita inquired.
I took the liberty of asking why, if there was actually enough money to maintain both of them, there would not be more than enough in case of her being left alone.She considered this difficult problem a moment and then she said, "Oh, well, you know, she takes care of me.
She thinks that when I'm alone I shall be a great fool, I shall not know how to manage.""I should have supposed that you took care of her.
I'm afraid she is very proud."
"Why, have you discovered that already?" Miss Tita cried with the glimmer of an illumination in her face.
"I was shut up with her there for a considerable time, and she struck me, she interested me extremely.It didn't take me long to make my discovery.
She won't have much to say to me while I'm here.""No, I don't think she will," my companion averred.
"Do you suppose she has some suspicion of me?"Miss Tita's honest eyes gave me no sign that I had touched a mark.
"I shouldn't think so--letting you in after all so easily.""Oh, so easily! she has covered her risk.But where is it that one could take an advantage of her?""I oughtn't to tell you if I knew, ought I?" And Miss Tita added, before I had time to reply to this, smiling dolefully, "Do you think we have any weak points?""That's exactly what I'm asking.You would only have to mention them for me to respect them religiously."She looked at me, at this, with that air of timid but candid and even gratified curiosity with which she had confronted me from the first; and then she said, "There is nothing to tell.
We are terribly quiet.I don't know how the days pass.
We have no life."
"I wish I might think that I should bring you a little.""Oh, we know what we want," she went on."It's all right."There were various things I desired to ask her: how in the world they did live; whether they had any friends or visitors, any relations in America or in other countries.But I judged such an inquiry would be premature; I must leave it to a later chance.
"Well, don't YOU be proud," I contented myself with saying.
"Don't hide from me altogether."
"Oh, I must stay with my aunt," she returned, without looking at me.
And at the same moment, abruptly, without any ceremony of parting, she quitted me and disappeared, leaving me to make my own way downstairs.
I remained a while longer, wandering about the bright desert (the sun was pouring in) of the old house, thinking the situation over on the spot.
Not even the pattering little serva came to look after me, and Ireflected that after all this treatment showed confidence.
