"Do you, really? To hear you, one would think that you only respected him as a superior."
"You have no right to say that. You dont understand."
"Perhaps not. Would you mind explaining?"
"I do not mean anything particular; but there are two kinds of love.
There is a love which one"s good sense suggests--a sort of moral approval----"
Elinor laughed. "Go on," she said. "What is the other sort?"
"The other sort has nothing to do with good sense. It is an overpowering impulse--a craving--a faith that defies logic--something to look forward to feeling in your youth, and look back to with a kindling heart in your age."
"Indeed! Isnt the difference between the two sorts much the same as the difference between the old love and the new?"
"What do you mean?"
"I think I will take another cup of tea. You neednt stop flying out at me, though: I dont mind it."
"Excuse me. I did not mean to fly out at you."
"It"s rather odd that we so seldom meet now without getting on this subject and having a row. Has that struck you at all?"
Marian turned to the fire, and remained silent.
"Listen to me, Marian. You are in the blues. Why dont you go to Ned, and tell him that he is a cast-iron walking machine, and that you are unhappy, and want the society of a flesh-and-blood man? Have a furious scene with him, and all will come right."
"It is very easy to talk. I could not go to him and make myself ridiculous like that: the words would choke me. Besides, I am not unhappy."
"What a lie! You wicked woman! A moment ago you were contemning all prudence; and now you will not speak your mind because you are afraid of being ridiculous. What is that but observing the wind and regarding the clouds, I should like to know?"
"I wish you would not speak harshly to me, even in jest. It hurts me."
"Serve you right! I am not a bit remorseful. No matter: let us talk of something else. Where did those flowers come from?"
"Douglas sent them. I am going to the theatre to-night; and I wanted a bouquet."
"Very kind of him. I wonder he did not bring it himself. He rarely misses an excuse for coming."
"Why do you say that, Nelly? He comes here very seldom, except on Sunday; and that is a regular thing, just as your coming is."
"He was here on Tuesday; you saw him at Mrs. Saunders"s on Wednesday; he was at your at-home on Thursday; and he sends a bouquet on Sat.u.r.day."
"I cannot help meeting him out; and not to invite him to my at-home would be to cut him. Pray are you growing spiteful, like Mrs. Leith Fairfax?"
"Marian: you got out of bed at the wrong side this morning; and you have made that mistake oftener since your return from Sark than in all your life before. Douglas has become a lazy good-for-nothing; and he comes here a great deal too often. Instead of encouraging him to dangle after you as he does, and to teach you all those finely turned sentiments about love which you were airing a minute ago, you ought to make him get called to the bar, or sent into Parliament, or put to work in some fashion."
"Nelly!"
"Bother Nelly! It is true; and you know it as well as I do."
"If he fancies himself in love with me, I cannot help it."
"You can help his following you about."
"I cannot. He does not follow me about. Why does not Ned object? He knows that Sholto is in love with me; and he does not care."
"Oh, if it is only to make Ned jealous, then I have nothing more to say: you may flirt away as hard as you please. There"s a knock at the door, just in time to prevent us from quarrelling. I know whose knock it is, too."
Marian had flushed slightly at the sound; and Elinor, with her feet stretched out before her, lapped the carpet restlessly with her heels, and watched her cousin sourly as Douglas entered. He was in evening dress.
"Good-evening," said Elinor. "So you are going to the theatre, too?"
"Why?" said Douglas. "Is any one coming with us? Shall we have the pleasure of your company?"
"No," replied Elinor, drily. "I thought Mr. Conolly was perhaps going with you."
"I shall be very glad, I am sure, if he will," said Douglas.
"He will not," said Marian. "I doubt if he will come home before we start."
"You got my flowers safely, I see."
"Yes, thank you. They are beautiful."
"They need be, if you are to wear them."
"I think I will go," said Elinor, "if you can spare me. Marian has been far from amiable; and if you are going to pay her compliments, I shall very soon be as bad as she. Good-bye." Douglas gratefully went with her to the door. She looked very hard at him, and almost made a grimace as they parted; but she said nothing.
"I am very glad she went," said Marian, when Douglas returned. "She annoys me. Everything annoys me."
"You are leading an impossible life here, Marian," he said, putting his hand on her chair and bending over her. "Whilst it lasts, everything will annoy you; and I, who would give the last drop of my blood to spare you a moment"s pain, shall never experience the delight of seeing you happy."
"What other life can I lead?"
Douglas made an impulsive movement, as though to reply; but he hesitated, and did not speak. Marian was not looking at him. She was gazing into the fire.
"Sholto," she said, after an interval of silence, "you must not come here any more."
"What!"
"You are too idle. You come here too often. Why do you not become a barrister, or go into Parliament, or at least write books? If Nelly can succeed as an author, surely you can."
"I have left all that behind me. I am a failure: you know why. Let us talk no more of it."
"Do not go on like that," said Marian, pettishly. "I dont like it."
"I am afraid to say or do anything, you are so easily distressed."