"I learn to like everything you do and say; and every person you like."
"It is by Mr. Wythan"s dead wife"s request that I call him by his name.
He is our friend. He is a man to trust."
"The situation..." Fleetwood hung swaying between the worldly view of it and the white light of this woman"s nature flashed on his emotion into his mind. "You shall be trusted for judging. If he is your friend, he is my friend. I have missed the sight of our boy. You heard I was at Esslemont?"
"I heard from Madge!"
"It is positive you must return to Croridge?"
"I must be with my brother, yes."
"Your ladyship will permit me to conduct you."
Her head a.s.sented. There was nothing to complain of, but he had not gained a step.
The rule is, that when we have yielded initiative to a woman, we are unable to recover it without uncivil bl.u.s.ter. So, therefore, women dealing with gentlemen are allowed unreasonable advantages. He had never granted it in colloquy or act to any woman but this one. Consequently, he was to see, that if the gentleman in him was not put aside, the lady would continue moving on lines of the independence he had likewise yielded, or rather flung, to her. Unless, as a result, he besieged and wooed his wife, his wife would hold on a course inclining constantly farther from the union he desired. Yet how could he begin to woo her if he saw no spark of womanly tenderness? He asked himself, because the beginning of the wooing might be checked by the call on him for words of repentance only just possible to conceive. Imagine them uttered, and she has the initiative for life.
She would not have it, certainly, with a downright brute. But he was not that. In an extremity of bitterness, he fished up a drowned old thought, of all his torments being due to the impulsive half-brute he was. And between the good and the bad in him, the sole point of strength was a pride likely, as the smooth simplicity of her indifference showed him, soon to be going down prostrate beneath her feet. Wholly a brute--well?
He had to say, that playing the perfect brute with any other woman he would have his mastery. The summoning of an idea of personal power to match this woman in a contest was an effort exhausting the idea.
They pa.s.sed out of Esslemont gates together at that hour of the late afternoon when South-westerly breezes, after a summer gale, drive their huge white flocks over blue fields fresh as morning, on the march to pile the crown of the sphere, and end a troubled day with grandeur. Up the lane by the park they had open land to the heights of Croridge.
"Splendid clouds," Fleetwood remarked.
She looked up, thinking of the happy long day"s walk with her brother to the Styrian Baths. Pleasure in the sight made her face shine superbly.
"A flying Switzerland, Mr. Woodseer says," she replied. "England is beautiful on days like these.--For walking, I think the English climate very good."
He dropped a murmur: "It should suit so good a walker," and burned to compliment--her spirited easy stepping, and scorned himself for the sycophancy it would be before they were on the common ground of a restored understanding. But an approval of any of her acts threatened him with enthusiasm for the whole of them, her person included; and a dam in his breast had to keep back the flood.
"You quote Woodseer to me, Carinthia. I wish you knew Lord Feltre. He can tell you of every cathedral, convent, and monastery in Europe and Syria. Nature is well enough; she is, as he says, a savage. Men"s works, acting under divine direction to escape from that tangle, are better worthy of study, perhaps. If one has done wrong, for example."
"I could listen to him," she said.
"You would not need--except, yes, one thing. Your father"s book speaks of not forgiving an injury."
"My father does. He thinks it weakness to forgive an injury. Women do, and are disgraced, they are thought slavish. My brother is much stronger than I am. He is my father alive in that."
"It is anti-Christian, some would think."
"Let offending people go. He would not punish them. They may go where they will be forgiven. For them our religion is a happy retreat; we are glad they have it. My father and my brother say that injury forbids us to be friends again. My father was injured by the English Admiralty: he never forgave it; but he would have fought one of their ships and offered his blood any day, if his country called to battle."
"You have the same feeling, you mean."
"I am a woman. I follow my brother, whatever he decides. It is not to say he is the enemy of persons offending him; only that they have put the division."
"They repent?"
"If they do, they do well for themselves."
"You would see them in sackcloth and ashes?"
"I would pray to be spared seeing them."
"You can entirely forget--well, other moments, other feelings?"
"They may heighten the injury."
"Carinthia, I should wish to speak plainly, if I could, and tell you...."
"You speak quite plainly, my lord."
"You and I cannot be strangers or enemies."
"We cannot be, I would not be. To be friends, we should be separate."
"You say you are a woman; you have a heart, then?"--for, if not, what have you? was added in the tone.
"My heart is my brother"s," she said.
"All your heart?"
"My heart is my brother"s until one of us drops."
"There is not another on earth beside your brother Chillon?"
"There is my child."
The dwarf square tower of Croridge village church fronted them against the sky, seen of both.
"You remember it," he said; and she answered: "I was married there."
"You have not forgotten that injury, Carinthia?"
"I am a mother."
"By all the saints! you hit hard. Justly. Not you. Our deeds are the hard hitters. We learn when they begin to flagellate, stroke upon stroke! Suppose we hold a costly thing in the hand and dash it to the ground--no recovery of it, none! That must be what your father meant. I can"t regret you are a mother. We have a son, a bond. How can I describe the man I was!" he muttered,--"possessed! sort of werewolf! You are my wife?"
"I was married to you, my lord."
"It"s a tie of a kind."
"It binds me."
"Obey, you said."
"Obey it. I do."