按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
curiosity？〃
〃I'm a daughter of Eve。〃
〃Well； I'm coming to the conclusion that there is a good deal of
'old Adam' in me；〃 and he felt that as she then appeared she could
tempt him to almost anything。
Now that her back was towards him she felt safer； and her mellow
laugh trilled out as she said； 〃We may have to dub this place a
confessional rather than a studio of you talk in that way。〃
〃If I confessed all my sins against you； Miss Mayhew； it would；
indeed； be a confessional。〃 He spoke so earnestly that she gave
him a quick glance of surprise。
〃There is no need；〃 she said； hesitatingly； 〃since I have given you
full absolution；〃 and she suddenly became interested in something in
the farthest corner of the apartment。 After a moment she added；
〃If I am to come here I must say to you again； as I did on the
day I so disgusted you by my behavior in the stageyou must let
by…gones be by…gones。〃
It was now the artist's turn to laugh； and his merriment was
so hearty and prolonged that she turned a vexed and crimson face
towards him and said； 〃I think it's too bad in you to laugh at me
so。〃
〃Miss Mayhew； I assure you I'm not laughing at you at all。 But your
words suggest a good omen。 Didn't that stage teach you that fate
means us to be good friends in spite of all you can do？ Before we
met in that car of fortune I had been trying for a week or more to
make your acquaintance； and made a martyr of myself in the effort。
I played the agreeable to nearly every lady in the hotel； and
perspired on picnics and boating parties that I did not enjoy。 I
played croquet and other games till I was half bored to death； and
all in the effort to produce such a genial atmosphere of enjoyment
and good…feeling that you would thaw a little towards me； but you
wouldn't speak to me； nor even look at me。 At last I gave up in
despair and went off among the hills with my sketch…book； and when
returning that blessed old stage overtook me。 Wasn't I pleased
when I found you were a fellow…passenger！ and let me now express
my thanks that you looked so resolutely away from me； for it gave
me a chance to contrast a profile in which I could detect no fault
with the broad； sultry visage of the stout woman opposite me。 And
then； thank heaven； the horses ran away。 Whoever heard of stage
horses running away before？ It was a smile of fortunea miracle。
Submit to destiny； Miss Mayhew； for it's decreed that we should be
good friends；〃 and he laughed again in huge enjoyment of the whole
scene。
In spite of herself Ida found his humor contagious and irresistible；
and she laughed also till the tears came into her eyes。
〃Mr。 Van Berg；〃 she exclaimed； 〃I ought to be indignant； or I ought
to be ashamed to look you in the face。 I don't know what I ought
to do； only I'm sure it isn't the proper thing at all for me to be
laughing in this way。 I think I'll go home at once； for I'm only
wasting your time。
His answer was not very relevant； for he said impetuously； 〃Oh；
Miss Ida； I would give five years of my life to be able to paint
your portrait as you now appear； for the picture would cure old
melancholy himself and fill a prison…cell with light。〃
〃I won't come here any more if you laugh at me so；〃 she said；
putting on her hat。
〃See；〃 he said； 〃I'm as grave as a judge。 I will never laugh
AT you； but I hope to laugh WITH you many a time； for to tell you
the truth the experience has reminded me of the 'inextinguishable
laughter of the Gods。' Please don't go yet。〃
〃If I must come so often my visits must be brief。〃
〃Then you will come？〃
〃I haven't promised anything except for to…morrow。 Good…morning。〃
〃Let me walk home with you。〃
〃No； positively。 You have wasted too much time already。〃
〃You will at least shake hands in token of peace and amity before
we part？〃
〃Oh； certainly； if you think it worth the while when we are to meet
so soon again。 Oh！ you hurt me。 You did that once before。〃
His face suddenly became grave and even tender in its expression；
as he said； in a low； deep voice； 〃More than once； Miss Ida。 Don't
think I forget or forgive myself because you treat me so generously。〃
She would not look up and meet his eyes； but replied； in tones that
trembled with repressed feeling； 〃I could forgive anything after
your manner towards father this morning。 Never think I can forget
such favors；〃 and then she snatched away her hand and went swiftly
out。 Her tears fell fast as she sought her home by quiet streets
with bowed head and vail drawn tightly down； and she murmured：
〃I cannot give him upI cannot； indeed； I cannot。 If I lose him
it must be because there is no help for it。〃
Then conscience uttered its low； faint protest and her tears fell
faster still。
When reaching her room she threw herself on the sofa and sobbed；
〃Would it be so very； very wrong to win him if I could？ she can't
love him as much as I do。 Why； I was ready to die even to win his
respect； and now in these visits he gives me a chance to win his
love。 Is he pledged to Miss Burton yet？ If he is； I do not know
it。 He does seem to care for methere is often something in his
face and tone that whispers hope。 If he loves her as I love him
he could not be here in New York all this week。 But it's her love
that troubles meI've seen it in her eyes when he was not observing；
and I fear she just worships him。 Alas； he gave her reason。 His
manner has been that of a lover； and no onehe least of allwould
think of flirting with Jennie Burton。 But does he lover her so
deeply that I could not win him if I had a chance？ Would it be very
wicked if I did？ Must I give up my happiness for her happiness？
I came to New York to get away from danger and temptation and here
I am right in the midst of it。 What shall I do！ Oh； my Saviour；
I'm half afraid to speak to thee about this。〃
〃If I could only see Mr。 Eltinge；〃 she murmured； after an
hour of distracted thought and indecision。 〃There is no time to
writeindeed； I could not write on such a subject； andandI'm
afraid he'd advise me against it。 He can't understand a woman's
feelings in a case like this； at least he could not understand a
passionate； faulty girl like me。 I've no patienceno fortitude。
I could die for my loveI think； I hope； I could for my faith；but
I feel no power within me to endure patiently year after year。 I
would be like the poor； weak women they shut up in the Inquisition
and who suffered on to the end only through remorseless compulsion；
because the walls were too thick for escape； and the tormentor's
hands and the rack were irresistible。 My soul would succumb as well
as my body。 This would seem wild； wicked talk to Mr。 Eltinge； it
would seem weak and irrational to any man。 But I'm only Ida Mayhew；
and such is my nature。 I've been made all the more incapable of
patient self…sacrifice by self…indulgence from my childhood up。
Oh； will it be very； very wrong to win him if I can？〃 and the
passionate tears and sobs that followed these words would seem to
indicate that she understood her nature only too well。
At last she concluded； in weariness and exhaustion； 〃I'm too weak
and distracted to think any more。 I hardly know whether it's right
or wrong。 I hope it isn't very wrong。 I won't decide now。 Let
matters take their own course as they have done and I may see
clearer by and by。〃
But deep in her heart she felt that this was about the same as
yielding to the temptation。
She bathed her eyes； tried to think how she could spend the
intervening hours before they would meet again。 Then with a sense
of dismay she began to consider； 〃If we are to meet so often what
are we to talk about？ He once tried to converse with me and found
me so ignorant he couldn't。 It seemed to me I didn't know anything
that evening； and he'll soon grow disgusted with me again as he sees
my poor little pack of knowledge is like a tramp's bundle that he
carries around with him。 I must readI must study every moment；
or I haven't the remotest chance of success。 Success！ Oh； merciful
heaven！ it's the same as if I were setting about it all deliberately
and there's no use of deceiving myself。 I hope it isn't very； very
wrong。〃
She went to her father's library with flushed cheeks and hesitating
steps； as if it were the tree from which she might pluck the fruit
of forbidden knowledge。 The long rows of ponderous and neglected
books appalled her； she took down two or three and they seemed
like unopened mines； deep and rocky。 She felt instinctively that
there was not time for her to transmute their ores into graceful
and natural mental adornments。
〃Methuselah himself couldn't read them all；〃 she exclaimed。 〃By the
powers！ if here isn't more books than I can carry； on one subject。
I suppose cartloads have been written about art。 I've no doub