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be true to my word of honour; and if then 。。。 !〃 An intolerable
languor caused her to sigh profoundly。 It is written as she
thought it; she thought in blanks; as girls do; and some women。 A
shadow of the male Egoist is in the chamber of their brains
overawing them。

〃Were I to marry; and to run!〃 There is the thought; she is
offered up to your mercy。 We are dealing with a girl feeling
herself desperately situated; and not a fool。

〃I'm sure you're dead tired; though;〃 said Crossjay。

〃No; I am not; what makes you think so?〃 said Clara。

〃I do think so。〃

〃But why do you think so?〃

〃You're so hot。〃

〃What makes you think that?〃

〃You're so red。〃

〃So are you; Crossjay。〃

〃I'm only red in the middle of the cheeks; except when I've been
running。 And then you talk to yourself; just as boys do when they
are blown。〃

〃Do they?〃

〃They say: 'I know I could have kept up longer'; or; 'my buckle
broke'; all to themselves; when they break down running。〃

〃And you have noticed that?〃

〃And; Miss Middleton; I don't wish you were a boy; but I should
like to live near you all my life and be a gentleman。 I'm coming
with Miss Dale this evening to stay at the Hall and be looked
after; instead of stopping with her cousin who takes care of her
father。 Perhaps you and I'll play chess at night。〃

〃At night you will go to bed; Crossjay。〃

〃Not if I have Sir Willoughby to catch hold of。 He says I'm an
authority on birds〃 eggs。 I can manage rabbits and poultry。 Isn't
a farmer a happy man? But he doesn't marry ladies。 A cavalry
officer has the best chance。〃

〃But you are going to be a naval officer。〃

〃I don't know。 It's not positive。 I shall bring my two dormice; and
make them perform gymnastics on the dinnertable。 They're such dear
little things。 Naval officers are not like Sir Willoughby。〃

〃No; they are not;〃 said Clara; 〃they give their lives to their
country。

〃And then they're dead;〃 said Crossjay。

Clara wished Sir Willoughby were confronting her: she could have
spoken。

She asked the boy where Mr。 Whitford was。 Crossjay pointed very
secretly in the direction of the double…blossom wild…cherry。
Coming within gaze of the stem; she beheld Vernon stretched at
length; reading; she supposed; asleep; she discovered: his finger
in the leaves of a book; and what book? She had a curiosity to
know the title of the book he would read beneath these boughs; and
grasping Crossjay's hand fast she craned her neck; as one timorous
of a fall in peeping over chasms; for a glimpse of the page; but
immediately; and still with a bent head; she turned her face to
where the load of virginal blossom; whiter than summer…cloud on
the sky; showered and drooped and clustered so thick as to claim
colour and seem; like higher Alpine snows in noon…sunlight; a
flush of white。 From deep to deeper heavens of white; her eyes
perched and soared。 Wonder lived in her。 Happiness in the beauty
of the tree pressed to supplant it; and was more mortal and
narrower。 Reflection came; contracting her vision and weighing her
to earth。 Her reflection was: 〃He must be good who loves to be and
sleep beneath the branches of this tree!〃 She would rather have
clung to her first impression: wonder so divine; so unbounded; was
like soaring into homes of angel…crowded space; sweeping through
folded and on to folded white fountain…bow of wings; in
innumerable columns; but the thought of it was no recovery of it;
she might as well have striven to be a child。 The sensation of
happiness promised to be less short…lived in memory; and would
have been had not her present disease of the longing for happiness
ravaged every corner of it for the secret of its existence。 The
reflection took root。 〃He must be good 。。。 !〃 That reflection
vowed to endure。 Poor by comparison with what it displaced; it
presented itself to her as conferring something on him; and she
would not have had it absent though it robbed her。

She looked down。 Vernon was dreamily looking up。

She plucked Crossjay hurriedly away; whispering that he had better
not wake Mr。 Whitford; and then she proposed to reverse their
previous chase; and she be the hound and he the hare。 Crossjay
fetched a magnificent start。 On his glancing behind he saw Miss
Middleton walking listlessly; with a hand at her side。

〃There's a regular girl!〃 said he in some disgust; for his theory
was; that girls always have something the matter with them to
spoil a game。


CHAPTER XII

Miss Middleton and Mr。 Vernon Whitford

Looking upward; not quite awakened out of a transient doze;
at a fair head circled in dazzling blossom; one may temporize
awhile with common sense; and take it for a vision after the
eyes have regained direction of the mind。 Vernon did so until
the plastic vision interwound with reality alarmingly。 This is
the embrace of a Melusine who will soon have the brain if she
is encouraged。 Slight dalliance with her makes the very diminutive
seem as big as life。 He jumped to his feet; rattled his
throat; planted firmness on his brows and mouth; and attacked
the dream…giving earth with tremendous long strides; that his
blood might be lively at the throne of understanding。 Miss
Middleton and young Crossjay were within hail: it was her face he
had seen; and still the idea of a vision; chased from his
reasonable wits; knocked hard and again for readmission。
There was little for a man of humble mind toward the sex to
think of in the fact of a young lady's bending rather low to
peep at him asleep; except that the poise of her slender figure;
between an air of spying and of listening; vividly recalled his
likening of her to the Mountain Echo。 Man or maid sleeping in the
open air provokes your tiptoe curiosity。 Men; it is
known; have in that state cruelly been kissed; and no rights are
bestowed on them; they are teased by a vapourish rapture; what has
happened to them the poor fellows barely divine:
they have a crazy step from that day。 But a vision is not so 
distracting; it is our own; we can put it aside and return to it;
play at rich and poor with it; and are not to be summoned before your
laws and rules for secreting it in our treasury。 Besides; it
is the golden key of all the possible; new worlds expand beneath 
the dawn it brings us。 Just outside reality; it illumines;
enriches and softens real things;and to desire it in
preference to the simple fact is a damning proof of enervation。

Such was Vernon's winding up of his brief drama of fantasy。 He was
aware of the fantastical element in him and soon had it under。
Which of us who is of any worth is without it? He had not much
vanity to trouble him; and passion was quiet; so his task was not
gigantic。 Especially be it remarked; that he was a man of quick
pace; the sovereign remedy for the dispersing of the mental
fen…mist。 He had tried it and knew that nonsense is to be walked
off

Near the end of the park young Crossjay overtook him; and after
acting the pumped one a trifle more than needful; cried: 〃I say;
Mr。 Whitford; there's Miss Middleton with her handkerchief out。〃

〃What for; my lad?〃 said Vernon。

〃I'm sure I don't know。 All of a sudden she bumped down。 And;
look what fellows girls are!here she comes as if nothing had
happened; and I saw her feel at her side。〃

Clara was shaking her head to express a denial。 〃I am not at all
unwell;〃 she said。 when she came near。 〃I guessed Crossjay's
business in running up to you; he's a good…for…nothing; officious 
boy。 I was tired; and rested for a moment。〃

Crossjay peered at her eyelids。 Vernon looked away and said: 〃Are
you too tired for a stroll?〃

〃Not now。〃

〃Shall it be brisk?〃

〃You have the lead。〃

He led at a swing of the legs that accelerated young Crossjay's to
the double; but she with her short; swift; equal steps glided
along easily on a fine by his shoulder; and he groaned to think
that of all the girls of earth this one should have been
chosen for the position of fine lady。

〃You won't tire me;〃 said she; in answer to his look。

〃You remind me of the little Piedmontese Bersaglieri on the
march。〃

〃I have seen them trotting into Como from Milan。〃

〃They cover a quantity of ground in a day; if the ground's flat。
You want another sort of step for the mountains。〃

〃I should not attempt to dance up。〃

〃They soon tame romantic notions of them。〃

〃The mountains tame luxurious dreams; you mean。 I see how they are
conquered。 I can plod。 Anything to be high up!〃

〃Well; there you have the secret of good work: to plod on and
still keep the passion fresh。〃

〃Yes; when we have an aim in view。〃

〃We always have one。〃

〃Captives have?〃

〃More than the rest of us。〃

Ignorant man! What of wives miserably wedded? What aim in view
have these most woeful captives? Horror shrouds it; and shame
reddens through the folds to tell of innermost horror。

〃Take me back to the mountains; if you please; Mr。 Whitford;〃 Miss
Middleton said; fallen out of sympathy with him。 〃Captives have
death in view; but that is not an aim。〃

〃Why may not captives expect a release?〃

〃Hardly from a tyrant。〃

〃If you are thinking of tyrants; it may be so。 Say the tyrant
dies?〃

〃The prison…gates are unlocked and out comes a skeleton。 But why
will you talk of skeletons! The very name of mountain seems life
in comparison with any other subject。〃

〃I assure you;〃 said Vernon; with the fervour of a man lighting on
an actual truth in his conversation with a young lady; 〃it's not
the first time I have thought you would be at home in the Alps。
You would walk and climb as well as you dance。〃

She liked to hear Clara Middleton talked of; and of her having
been thought of; and giving him friendly eyes; barely noticing
that he was in a glow。 she said: 〃If you speak so encouragingly I
shall fancy we are near an ascent。〃

〃I wish we were;〃 said he。

〃We can realize it by dwelling on it; don't you think?〃

〃We can begin climbing。〃

〃Oh!〃 she squeezed herself shadowily。

〃Which mountain shall it be?〃 said Vernon; in the right real
earnest tone。

Miss Middleton suggested a lady's mountain first; for a trial。
〃And then; if you think well enough of meif I have not stumbled
more than twice; o

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