Part 26 (1/2)
”You are very good. I do not value any distinction of the sort. I write sometimes because, I suppose, the things that are in me must come out, whether I will or not. Let us talk of something else. You are quite well I hope?”
”Very far from it. I am never well; but since I never have a moment's rest from work, I must bear with it. People expect me to think, when I have hardly time to eat.”
”If you have no time to think, I envy you. But I am truly sorry that your health remains so bad.”
”Thank you. But what is the cause of all this gloomy cynicism, Mr.
Douglas? Why should you, who are young, distinguished, gifted, and already famous, envy me for having no leisure to think?”
”You exaggerate the sadness of my unfortunate insensibility to the admiration of the crowd,” said Douglas, coldly. ”I am, nevertheless, flattered by the interest you take in my affairs.”
”You need not be, Mr. Douglas,” said Mrs. Fairfax, earnestly, fearing that he would presently succeed in rebuffing her. ”I think you are much better off than you deserve. You may despise your reputation as much as you like: that only affects yourself. But when a beautiful girl pays you the compliment of almost dying of love for you, I think you ought to buy a wedding-ring and jump for joy, instead of sulking in remote corners of the continent.”
”And pray, Mrs. Leith Fairfax, what lady has so honored me?”
”You must know, unless you are blind.”
”Pardon me. I do not habitually imply what is not the case. I beg you to believe that I do _not_ know.”
”Not know! What moles men are! Poor Marian!”
”Oblige me by taking this seat,” said Douglas, sternly, pointing to one just vacated. ”I shall not detain you many minutes,” he added, sitting down beside her. ”May I understand that Miss Lind is the lady of whom you spoke just now?”
”Yes. Remember that I am speaking to you as a friend, and that I trust to you not to mention the effort I am making to clear up the misunderstanding which causes her so much unhappiness.”
”Are you then in Miss Lind's confidence? Did she ask you to tell me this?”
”What do you mean, Mr. Douglas?”
”I am quite innocent of any desire to shock or offend you, Mrs. Leith Fairfax. Does your question imply a negative?”
”Most certainly. Marian ask me to tell! you must be dreaming. Do you think, even if Marian were capable of making an advance, that _I_ would consent to act as a go-between? Really, Mr. Douglas!”
”I confess I do not understand these matters; and you must bear with my inept.i.tude. If Miss Lind entertains any sentiment for me but one of mistrust and aversion, her behavior is singularly misleading.”
”Mistrust! Aversion! I tell you she is in love with you.”
”But you have not, you admit, her authority for saying so, whereas I _have_ her authority for the contrary.”
”You do not understand girls. You are mistaken.”
”Possibly; but you must pardon me if I hesitate to set aside my own judgment in deference to your low estimate of it.”
”Very well,” said Mrs. Fairfax, her patience yielding a little to his persistent stiffness: ”be it so. Many men would be glad to beg what you will not be bribed to accept.”
”No doubt. I trust that when they so humble themselves they may not encounter a flippant repulse.”
”If they do, it will spring from her unmerited regard for you.”
He bowed slightly, and turned away, arranging his gloves as if about to rise.
”Pray what is that large picture which is skied over there to the right?” said Mrs. Fairfax, after a pause, during which she had feigned to examine her catalogue. ”I cannot see the number at this distance.”