Part 9 (1/2)
”You don't mean to claim, do you,” she replied, ”that physical beauty and moral goodness always go hand in hand?”
”They should,” he answered, in a tone that was meant to be impressive.
”Ah, that is another question! _Do_ they? that is all the novelist needs to know. Did you ever read Ouida's 'Sigma?' There are the two sisters, one as pure as can be, the other quite the opposite, and the beauty belongs to the depraved one. I know Oscar Wilde takes a different view in 'Dorian Grey,' but he is wrong. I am sure that the worst man or woman in the world--reckoning by what are called the 'amiable vices'--might be the most lovely to look upon, the most delightful to a.s.sociate with. Eve found the serpent attractive, remember.”
Where did she learn all these things? Weil looked at her with increasing astonishment. ”Amiable vices.” He liked the appellation.
”Perhaps you are right,” he a.s.sented, as if slowly convinced. ”If you wish to be acquainted with Mr. Roseleaf, I will bring him here with pleasure. My only fear is that he will not interest you. He seems almost too perfect for earth. Think of a young man who knows nothing of women, who says he has no idea what it is to be in love, who does not understand why the ladies who pa.s.s down Fifth Avenue turn their heads to look at him! He, like yourself, is a novelist, but his characters are beautiful images that lack life. He carves marble figures and attempts to palm them off as flesh and blood. He really thinks they _are_, because he has never known the difference. If you could take him, Miss Fern, and teach him what love really is--”
The young lady blushed more than before.
”_I_--” she stammered.
”In a strictly literary way,” he explained. ”But,” he added, thinking he was getting upon the edge of a quicksand, ”we must not forget the object of my visit.”
He took the parcel containing her MSS. that he had obtained from Mr.
Gouger, and began to untie the string. Manlike he soon had it in a hard knot, and Miss Millicent, coming to his rescue, her young hands touched his and made his heart beat faster.
”There,” she said, when the knot had given way to their joint endeavors.
”It is all right, now. But, before we begin on this, tell me a little more about Mr. Roseleaf. What has he written? Where was it published? I will send to-morrow morning and buy a copy.”
Her enthusiasm was agreeable under the circ.u.mstances, but the truth had to be explained to her.
”What he has written I will let you see, one of these days,” he replied.
”As for publis.h.i.+ng, he ran upon the same rock that you did--that of Mr.
Lawrence Gouger.”
The beautiful eyes opened wider.
”So he rejected his work, too! And yet you say that it was well done?”
”Exquisitely. s.h.i.+rley's lines are as symmetrical as his face and figure.
His people are dead, that is all the trouble. Gouger scented the difficulty under which he labors, in a moment. 'Go and fall in love!' he said to him, 'and you will write a story at which the world will marvel!'”
Miss Fern arranged one of her locks of t.i.tian red that had fallen down.
”And hasn't he taken the advice?” she inquired, in a low voice.
”Not yet,” smiled the other. ”He says, like a very child, that 'he cannot find any one to love.' I walked up the avenue with him to-day, and afterwards rode in the Park. There were hundreds of the prettiest creatures, all looking their eyes out at him. And he hadn't the courage to return one glance, not one. Ah, Miss Fern, it will be genuine love with s.h.i.+rley Roseleaf, if any. The imitations one finds in the fas.h.i.+onable world will never answer for him.”
The young lady breathed a gentle sigh, as her thoughts dwelt on the handsome figure she had seen in front of the Hoffman House.
”You may bring him here--yes, I should be glad to have you,” she said, slowly. ”But I must ask one favor; do not tell him what I said so thoughtlessly about his being my ideal. Let me talk with him on fair terms. It may be, as you suggest, that we shall be of advantage to each other. When can you arrange it?”
”Almost any day,” smiled Weil. ”I will let you know, by mail or otherwise. And now, this story of yours,” he added, thinking it a shrewd plan to divert her attention from the other matter while it was still warm in her mind. ”Though I have read it through, and think I understand it fairly well, I am all the more anxious to hear it from your lips. You will put into the text new meanings, I have no doubt, that have escaped my observation.”
Miss Fern flushed pleasantly and inquired with a show of anxiety whether Mr. Weil had found its construction as bad as his friend, Mr. Gouger, had intimated.