Part 24 (1/2)
When minds are high and tempests wild Protection round her spread!
”They call again; leave then my breast; Quit thy true shelter, Jane; But when deceived, repulsed, opprest, Come home to me again!”
I read--then dreamily made marks on the margin with my pencil; thinking all the while of other things; thinking that ”Jane” was now at my side; no child, but a girl of nineteen; and she might be mine, so my heart affirmed; Poverty's curse was taken off me; Envy and Jealousy were far away, and unapprized of this our quiet meeting; the frost of the Master's manner might melt; I felt the thaw coming fast, whether I would or not; no further need for the eye to practise a hard look, for the brow to compress its expense into a stern fold: it was now permitted to suffer the outward revelation of the inward glow--to seek, demand, elicit an answering ardour. While musing thus, I thought that the gra.s.s on Hermon never drank the fresh dews of sunset more gratefully than my feelings drank the bliss of this hour.
Frances rose, as if restless; she pa.s.sed before me to stir the fire, which did not want stirring; she lifted and put down the little ornaments on the mantelpiece; her dress waved within a yard of me; slight, straight, and elegant, she stood erect on the hearth.
There are impulses we can control; but there are others which control us, because they attain us with a tiger-leap, and are our masters ere we have seen them. Perhaps, though, such impulses are seldom altogether bad; perhaps Reason, by a process as brief as quiet, a process that is finished ere felt, has ascertained the sanity of the deed Instinct meditates, and feels justified in remaining pa.s.sive while it is performed. I know I did not reason, I did not plan or intend, yet, whereas one moment I was sitting solus on the chair near the table, the next, I held Frances on my knee, placed there with sharpness and decision, and retained with exceeding tenacity.
”Monsieur!” cried Frances, and was still: not another word escaped her lips; sorely confounded she seemed during the lapse of the first few moments; but the amazement soon subsided; terror did not succeed, nor fury: after all, she was only a little nearer than she had ever been before, to one she habitually respected and trusted; embarra.s.sment might have impelled her to contend, but self-respect checked resistance where resistance was useless.
”Frances, how much regard have you for me?” was my demand. No answer; the situation was yet too new and surprising to permit speech. On this consideration, I compelled myself for some seconds to tolerate her silence, though impatient of it: presently, I repeated the same question--probably, not in the calmest of tones; she looked at me; my face, doubtless, was no model of composure, my eyes no still wells of tranquillity.
”Do speak,” I urged; and a very low, hurried, yet still arch voice said--
”Monsieur, vous me faites mal; de grace lachez un peu ma main droite.”
In truth I became aware that I was holding the said ”main droite” in a somewhat ruthless grasp: I did as desired; and, for the third time, asked more gently--
”Frances, how much regard have you for me?”
”Mon maitre, j'en ai beaucoup,” was the truthful rejoinder.
”Frances, have you enough to give yourself to me as my wife?--to accept me as your husband?”
I felt the agitation of the heart, I saw ”the purple light of love” cast its glowing reflection on cheeks, temples, neck; I desired to consult the eye, but sheltering lash and lid forbade.
”Monsieur,” said the soft voice at last,--”Monsieur desire savoir si je consens--si--enfin, si je veux me marier avec lui?”
”Justement.”
”Monsieur sera-t-il aussi bon mari qu'il a ete bon maitre?”
”I will try, Frances.”
A pause; then with a new, yet still subdued inflexion of the voice--an inflexion which provoked while it pleased me--accompanied, too, by a ”sourire a la fois fin et timide” in perfect harmony with the tone:--
”C'est a dire, monsieur sera toujours un peu entete exigeant, volontaire--?”
”Have I been so, Frances?”
”Mais oui; vous le savez bien.”
”Have I been nothing else?”
”Mais oui; vons avez ete mon meilleur ami.”
”And what, Frances, are you to me?”
”Votre devouee eleve, qui vous aime de tout son coeur.”