Part 25 (1/2)

_Mr. Falconer._ Do you not think she could recall him to his first ardour if she exerted all her fascinations for the purpose?

_Miss Nipket._ It may be so. I do not think she will try. (_She added, to herself_:) I do not think she would succeed.

Mr. Falconer did not feel sure she would not try: he thought he saw symptoms of her already doing so. In his opinion Morgana was, and must be, irresistible. But as he had thought his fair neighbour somewhat interested in the subject, he wondered at the apparent impa.s.siveness with which she replied to his questions.

In the meantime he found, as he had often done before, that the more his mind was troubled, the more Madeira he could drink without disordering his head.

CHAPTER XXVII

LOVE IN MEMORY

Il faut avoir aime une fois en sa vie, non pour le moment ou l'on aime, car on n'eprouve alors que des tourmens, des regrets, de la jalousie: mais peu a peu ces tourmens-la deviennent des souvenirs, qui charment notre arriere saison:... et quand vous verrez la vieillesse douce, facile et tolerante, vous pourrez dire comme Fontenelle: L'amour a pa.s.se par-la.

--Scribe: La Vieille.

Miss Gryll carefully avoided being alone with Mr. Falconer, in order not to give him an opportunity of speaking on the forbidden subject. She was confident that she had taken the only course which promised to relieve her from a life of intolerable suspense; but she wished to subject her conduct to dispa.s.sionate opinion, and she thought she could not submit it to a more calmly-judging person than her old spinster friend, Miss Ilex, who had, moreover, the great advantage of being a woman of the world. She therefore took an early opportunity of telling her what had pa.s.sed between herself and Mr. Falconer, and asking her judgment on the point.

_Miss Ilex._ Why, my dear, if I thought there had been the slightest chance of his ever knowing his own mind sufficiently to come to the desired conclusion himself, I should have advised your giving him a little longer time; but as it is clear to me that he never would have done so, and as you are decidedly partial to him, I think you have taken the best course which was open to you. He had all but declared to you more than once before; but this 'all but' would have continued, and you would have sacrificed your life to him for nothing.

_Miss Gryll._ But do you think you would in my case have done as I did?

_Miss Ilex._ No, my dear, I certainly should not; for, in a case very similar, I did not. It does not follow that I was right. On the contrary, I think you are right, and I was wrong. You have shown true moral courage where it was most needed.

_Miss Gryll._ 1 hope I have not revived any displeasing recollections.

_Miss Ilex._ No, my dear, no; the recollections are not displeasing.

The day-dreams of youth, however fallacious, are a composite of pain and pleasure: for the sake of the latter the former is endured, nay, even cherished in memory.

_Miss Gryll._ Hearing what I hear you were, seeing what I see you are, observing your invariable cheerfulness, I should not have thought it possible that you could have been crossed in love, as your words seem to imply.

_Miss Ilex._ I was, my dear, and have been foolish enough to be constant all my life to a single idea; and yet I would not part with this shadow for any attainable reality.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Constant all my life to a single idea 250-208]

_Miss Gryll._ If it were not opening the fountain of an ancient sorrow, I could wish to know the story, not from idle curiosity, but from my interest in you.

_Miss Ilex._ Indeed, my dear Morgana, it is very little of a story: but such as it is, I am willing to tell it you. I had the credit of being handsome and accomplished. I had several lovers; but my inner thoughts distinguished only one; and he, I think, had a decided preference for me, but it was a preference of present impression. If some Genius had commanded him to choose a wife from any company of which I was one, he would, I feel sure, have chosen me; but he was very much of an universal lover, and was always overcome by the smiles of present beauty. He was of a romantic turn of mind: he disliked and avoided the ordinary pursuits of young men: he delighted in the society of accomplished young women, and in that alone. It was the single link between him and the world. He would disappear for weeks at a time, wandering in forests, climbing mountains, and descending into the dingles of mountain-streams, with no other companion than a Newfoundland dog; a large black dog, with a white breast, four white paws, and a white tip to his tail: a beautiful affectionate dog: I often patted him on the head, and fed him with my hand. He knew me as well as Bajardo{1} knew Angelica.

1 Rinaldo's horse: he had escaped from his master, and had revelled Sacripante with his heels:--

Tears started into her eyes at the recollection of the dog. She paused for a moment.

_Miss Gryll._ I see the remembrance is painful Do not proceed.

_Miss Ilex._ No, my dear. I would not, if I could, forget that dog.

Well, my young gentleman, as I have said, was a sort of universal lover, and made a sort of half-declaration to half the young women he knew: sincerely for the moment to all: but with more permanent earnestness, more constant return, to me than to any other. If I had met him with equal earnestness, if I could have said or implied to him in any way, 'Take me while you may, or think of me no more,' I am persuaded I should not now write myself spinster. But I wrapped myself up in reserve. I thought it fitting that all advances should come from him: that I should at most show nothing more than willingness to hear, not even the semblance of anxiety to receive them. So nothing came of our love but remembrance and regret. Another girl, whom I am sure he loved less, but who understood him better, acted towards him as I ought to have done, and became his wife. Therefore, my dear, I applaud your moral courage, and regret that I had it not when the occasion required it.

_Miss Gryll._ My lover, if I may so call him, differs from yours in this: that he is not wandering in his habits, nor versatile in his affections.