Part 6 (1/2)
”Perhaps that is the reason they are so good?”
”Now, pardon me if I, too, am a trifle plain. Do you consider yourself as competent to form an opinion concerning politics as gray-headed students of affairs?”
”Oh, certainly not; but do I understand that you accept, unquestioningly, the politics of the paper you read?”
”Far from it: rather that the politics of this paper commend themselves to my judgment.”
”And you think 'judgment' an article not among a young woman's possessions?”
”Miss Warren, you may think what you please of the politics of this paper. But how comes it that you think about them at all? I'm sure that they interest but comparatively few young ladies.”
Her face suddenly became very grave and sad, and a moment later she turned away her eyes that were full of tears. ”I wish you hadn't asked that question; but I will explain my seeming weakness,” she said, in a low, faltering voice. ”I lost my only brother in the war--I was scarcely more than a child; but I can see him now--my very ideal of brave, loyal manhood. Should I not love the country for which he died?”
Politics! a word that men so often utter with contempt, has been hallowed to me since that moment.
She looked away for a moment, swiftly pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, then turning toward me said, with a smile, and in her former tones:
”Forgive me! I've been a bit lonely and blue this afternoon, for the day has reminded me of the past. I won't be weak and womanish any more.
I think some political questions interest a great many women deeply. It must be so. We don't dote on scrambling politicians; but a man as a true statesman makes a grand figure.”
I was not thinking of statecraft or the craftsmen.
”By Jove!” I exclaimed mentally, ”this girl is more beautiful than my 'perfect flower of womanhood.' Night-owl that I am, I am just gaining the power to see her clearly as the sun declines.”
I know my face was full of honest sympathy as I said, gently and reverently:
”Tell me more of your brother. The thoughts of such men make me better.”
She shot a quick, grateful glance, looked down, trembled, shook her head as she faltered:
”I cannot--please don't; speak of something far removed.”
The feeling was so deep, and yet so strongly curbed, that its repression affected me more deeply than could its manifestation. Her sorrow became a veiled and sacred mystery of which I could never be wholly unconscious again; and I felt that however strong and brilliant she might prove in our subsequent talk, I should ever see, back of all, the tender-hearted, sensitive woman.
”Please forgive me. I was cruelly thoughtless,” I said, in a voice that trembled slightly. Then, catching up the paper, I continued, with attempted lightness, ”We have found this journal, that we mutually read, a fruitful theme. What do you think of its literary reviews?”
Mirth and tears struggled for the mastery in her eyes; but she answered, with a voice that had regained its clear, bell-like tone:
”In some I have seen indisputable proof of impartiality and freedom from prejudice.”
”In what did that proof consist?”
”In the evident fact that the reviewer had not read the book.”
”You are severe,” I said, coloring slightly.
She looked at me with a little surprise, but continued:
”That does not happen very often. It is clear that there are several contributors to this department, and I have come to look for the opinions of one of them with much interest. I am sure of a careful and appreciative estimate of a book from his point of view. His one fault appears to be that he sees everything from one perspective, and does not realize that the same thing may strike other intelligent people very differently. But he's a fixed and certain quant.i.ty, and a good point to measure from. I like him because he is so sincere. He sits down to a book as a true scientist does to a phase of nature, to really learn what there is in it, and not merely to display a little learning, sarcasm, or smartness. I always feel sure that I know something about a book after reading one of his reviews, and also whether I could afford to spend a part of my limited time in reading it.”