Part 47 (1/2)
Adela, in another part of the field, had released herself by a consummate use of the same weapon Wilfrid had so clumsily handled. Her object was to put an end to the absurd and compromising sighs of Edward Buxley; and she did so with the amiable contempt of a pupil dismissing a first instructor in an art ”We saw from the beginning it could not be, Edward.” The enamoured caricaturist vainly protested that he had not seen it from the beginning, and did not now. He recalled to her that she had said he was 'her first.' She admitted the truth, with eyes dwelling on him, until a ringlet got displaced. Her first. To be that, sentimental man would perish in the fires. To have been that will sometimes console him, even when he has lived to see what a thing he was who caught the budding fancy. The unhappy caricaturist groaned between triumph as a leader, and anguish at the prospect of a possible host of successors. King in that pure bosom, the thought would come--King of a mighty line, mayhap! And sentimental man, awakened to this disastrous view of things, endures shrewder pangs of rivalry in the contemplation of his usurping posterity than if, as do they, he looked forward to a tricked, perfumed, pommaded whipster, pirouetting like any Pierrot--the enviable image of the one who realized her first dream, and to whom specially missioned angels first opened the golden gates of her heart.
”I have learnt to see, Edward, that you do not honour me with a love you have diverted from one worthier than I am;” and in answer to the question whether, though having to abjure her love, she loved him: ”No, no; it is my Arabella I love. I love, I will love, no one but her”--with sundry caressing e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns that spring a thirst for kisses, and a tender 'putting of the case,' now and then.
So much for Adela's part in the conflict. Edward was unaware that the secret of her mastering him was, that she was now talking common-sense in the tone of sentiment. He, on the contrary, talked sentiment in the tone of common-sense. Of course he was beaten: and O, you young lovers, when you hear the dear lips setting what you call the world's harsh language to this music, know that an hour has struck for you! It is a fatal sound to hear. Edward believed that his pleading had produced an effect when he saw Miss Adela's bosom rise as with a weight on it. The burden of her thoughts was--”How big and heavy Edward's eyes look when he is not amusing!” To get rid of him she said, as with an impa.s.sioned coldness, ”Go.” Her figure, repeating this under closed eyelids, was mysterious, potent. When he exclaimed, ”Then I will go,” her eyelids lifted wide: she shut them instantly, showing at the same time a slight tightening-in of the upper lip. You beheld a creature tied to the stake of Duty.
But she was exceedingly youthful, and had not reckoned upon man's being a live machine, possessing impulses of his own. A violent seizure of her waist, and enough of kisses to make up the sum popularly known as a 'shower,' stopped her performance. She struggled, and muttered pa.s.sionately to be released. ”We are seen,” she hazarded. At the repet.i.tion, Edward, accustomed to dread the warning, let her go and fled. Turning hurriedly about, Adela found that she had spoken truth unawares, and never wished so much that she had lied. Sir Twickenham Pryme came forward to her, with his usual stiff courtly step.
”If you could have been a little--a little earlier,” she murmured, with an unflurried face, laying a trembling hand in his; and thus s.h.i.+elded herself from a suspicion.
”Could I know that I was wanted?” He pressed her hand.
”I only know that I wish I had not left your side,” said she--adding, ”Though you must have thought me what, if I were a man, you Members of Parliament would call 'a bore,' for asking perpetual questions.”
”Nay, an apposite interrogation is the guarantee of a proper interest in the subject,” said the baronet.
Cornelia was very soon reverted to.
”Her intellect is contemplative,” said Adela, exhibiting marvellous mental composure. ”She would lose her unerring judgement in active life.
She cannot weigh things in her mind rapidly. She is safe if her course of action is clear.”
Sir Twickenham reserved his opinion of the truth of this. ”I wonder whether she can forgive those who offend or insult her, easily?”
A singular pleasure warmed Adela's veins. Her cheeks kindling, she replied, giving him her full face. ”No; if they are worthy of punishment. But--” and now he watched a downcast profile--”one must have some forgiveness for fools.”
”Indeed, you speak like charity out of the windows of wisdom,” said the baronet.
”Do you not require in Parliament to be tolerant at times?” Adela pursued.
He admitted it, and to her outcry of ”Oh, that n.o.ble public life!”
smiled deprecatingly--”My dear young lady, if you only knew the burden it brings!”
”It brings its burden,” said Adela, correcting, with a most proper instinct, another enthusiastic burst. ”At the same time the honour is above the load. Am I talking too romantically? You are at least occupied.”
”Nine-tenths of us to no very good purpose,” the baronet appended.
She rejoined: ”If it were but a fraction, the good done would survive.”
”And be more honourable to do, perhaps,” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. ”The consolation should be great.”
”And is somehow small,” said she; and they laughed softly.
At this stage, Adela was 'an exceedingly interesting young person'
in Sir Twickenham's mental register. He tried her on politics and sociology. She kept her ears open, and followed his lead carefully--venturing here and there to indicate an opinion, and suggesting dissent in a pained interrogation. Finally, ”I confess,”
she said, ”I understand much less than I am willing to think; and so I console myself with the thought that, after all, the drawing-room, and the... the kitchen?--well, an educated 'female' must serve her term there, if she would be anything better than a mere ornament, even in the highest walks of life--I mean the household is our sphere. From that we mount to companions.h.i.+p--if we can.”
Amazement of Sir Twickenham, on finding his own thought printed, as it were, on the air before him by these pretty lips!
The conversation progressed, until Adela, by chance, turned her eyes up a cross pathway and perceived her sister Cornelia standing with Mr.
Barrett under a beech. The man certainly held one of her hands pressed to his heart; and her att.i.tude struck a doubt whether his other hand was disengaged or her waist free. Adela walked nervously on without looking at the baronet; she knew by his voice presently that his eyes had also witnessed the sight. ”Two in a day,” she thought; ”what will he imagine us to be!” The baronet was thinking: ”For your sister exposed, you display more agitation than for yourself insulted.”