Part 25 (1/2)
”_Now of all artes ye most ancient is ye lovely arte of courting.
It is ye earliest form of ye chase. It is older than hawking or hunting ye wilde bore. It is older than ye flint age or ye stone aye, being as old as ye bones in ye man his body and in ye woman her body. It began in ye Garden of Eden and is as old as ye old devil himself_.”
Marguerite laughed: she thought Lady Bluefields delightful.
”_Now ye only purpose in all G.o.d His world of ye arte of courting is to create love where love is not, or to make it grow where it has begun. But whether ye wish to create love or to blow ye little coal into ye big blaze, ye principles are ye same; for ye bellows that will fan nothing into something will easily roast ye spark into ye roaring fire; and ye grander ye fire, ye grander ye arte_.”
Marguerite laughed again. Then she stopped reading and tested the pa.s.sage in the light of her experience. A bellows and--nothing to begin. Then something. Then a spark. Then a name. She returned to the book with the conclusion that Lady Bluefields was a woman of experience.
”_This little booke will not contain any but ye first principles: if is enough for ye stingy price ye pay. But ye woman who buys ye first principles and fails, must then get ye larger work on ye Last Principles of Courting, with ye true account of ye mysteries which set ye principles to going: it is ye infallible guide to ye irresistible love. Ye pay more for ye Big Booke, and G.o.d knows it is worth ye price: it is written for ye women who are ye difficult cases--ye floating derelicts in ye ocean of love, ye hidden snags, terror of ye seafaring men_.”
This did not so much interest Marguerite. She skipped two or three pages which seemed to go unnecessarily into the subject of derelicts and snags. ”I am not quite sure as to what a derelict is: I do not think I am one; out certainly I am not a snag.”
”_Now ye only reason for ye lovely arts of courtinge is ye purpose to marry. If ye do not expect to marry, positively ye must not court: flirting is ye dishonest arte. Courting is ye honest arte; if ye woman knows in ye woman her heart that she will not make ye man a good wife, let her not try to Cage ye man: let her keep ye cat or cage ye canary: that is enough for her_.”
”I shall dispose of my canary at once. It goes to Miss Harriet Crane.”
”_Now of all men there is one ye woman must not court: ye married man. Positively ye must not court such a man. If he wishes to court ye, ye must make resistance to him with all ye soul; if you wish to court him, ye must resist yourself. If he is a married man and happy, let him alone. If he is married and unhappy, let him bear his lot and beat his wife_.”
Marguerite's eyes flashed. ”It is well the writer did not live in this age,” she thought.
”_Ye men to court are three kinds: first ye swain; second ye old bachelor; third ye widower. Ye old bachelor is like ye green chimney of ye new house--hard to kindle. But ye widower is like ye familiar fireplace. Ye must court according to ye kind. Ye bachelor and ye widower are treated in ye big booke_.”
”The swain is left,” said Marguerite. ”How and when is the swain to be courted?”
”_Now ye beauty of ye swain is that ye can court him at all seasons of ye year. Ye female bird will signal for ye mate only when ye woods are green; but even ye old maid can go to ye icy spinnet and drum wildly in ye dead of winter with ye aching fingers and ye swain mate will sometimes come to her out of ye cold_.”
Marguerite was beginning to think that nearly every one treated in Lady Bluefields' book was too advanced in years: it was too charitable to the problems of spinsters. ”Where do the young come in?” she asked impatiently.
”_Ye must not court ye young swain with ye food or ye wine. That is for ye old bachelors and ye widowers to whom ye food and wine are dear, but ye woman who gives them not dear enough. Ye woman gives them meat and drink and they give ye woman hope: it is ye bargain: let each be content with what each gets. But if ye swain be bashful and ye know that he cannot speak ye word that he has tried to speak, a gla.s.s of ye wine will sometimes give him that missing word. Ye wine pa.s.ses ye word to him and he pa.s.ses ye word to you: and ye keep it! When ye man is soaked with wine he does not know what he loves nor cares: he will hug ye iron post in ye street or ye sack of feathers in ye man his bed and talk to it as though nothing else were dear to him in all ye world. It is not ye love that makes him do this; it is ye wine and ye man his own devilish nature. No; ye must marry with wine, but ye must court with water. Ye love that will not begin with water will not last with wine_.”
This did not go to the heart of the matter. Marguerite turned over several pages.
”_In ye arte of courting, it is often ye woman her eyes that settle ye man his fate, But if ye woman her eyes are not beautiful, she must not court with them but with other members of ye woman her body. Ye greatest use of ye ugly eyes is to see but not be seen.
If ye try to court with ye ugly eyes, ye scare ye man away or make him to feel sick; and ye will be sorry. Ye eyes must be beautiful and ye eyes must have some mystery. They must not be like ye windows of ye house in summer when ye curtains are taken down and ye shutters are taken off. As ye man stands outside he must want to see all that is within, but he must not be able. What ye man loves ye woman for is ye mystery in her; if ye woman contain no mystery, let her marry if she must; but not aspire to court. (This is enough for ye stingy price ye pay: if ye had paid more money, ye would have received more instruction.)_”
Marguerite thought it very little instruction for any money. She felt disappointed and provoked. She pa.s.sed on to ”Clothes.” ”What can she teach me on that subject?” she thought.
”_When ye court with ye clothes, ye must not lift ye dress above ye ankle bone_.”
”Then I know what kind of ankle bone _she_ had,” said Marguerite, bitter for revenge on Lady Bluefields.
”_Ye clothes play a greate part in ye arte of courtinge_.”
Marguerite turned the leaf; but she found that the other pages on the theme were too thumbed and faint to be legible.
She looked into the subject of ”Hands”: learning where the palms should be turned up and when turned down; the meaning of a crooked forefinger, and of full moons rising on the horizons of the finger nails; why women with freckled hands should court bachelors. Also how the feet, if of such and such sizes and configurations, must be kept as ”_ye two dead secrets_.” Similarly how dimples must be born and not made--with a caution against ”_ye dimple under ye nose_” (reference to ”Big Booke”--well worth the money, etc.).
When she reached the subject of the kiss, Marguerite thought guiltily of the library steps.