The Daughters of Danaus Part 82

"Oh, self-sacrifice in a woman, is always her easiest course. It is the nearest approach to luxury that society allows her," cried Hadria, irascibly.

"It is most refreshing to hear you exaggerate, once more, with the old vigour," her sister cried.

"If I have a foible, it is under-statement," returned Hadria, with a half-smile.

"Then I think you haven't a foible," said Algitha.

"That I am ready to admit; but seriously, women seem bent on proving that you may treat them as you like, but they will 'never desert Mr.

Micawber.'"

Algitha smiled.

"They are so mortally afraid of getting off the line and doing what might not be quite right. They take such a morbid interest in their own characters. They are so particular about their souls. The female soul is such a delicate creation--like a bonnet. Look at a woman tr.i.m.m.i.n.g and poking at her bonnet--that's exactly how she goes on with her soul."

Algitha laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

"It has trained her in a sort of heroism, at any rate," she said.

"Heroism! talk of Spartan boys, they are not in it! A woman will endure martyrdom with the expression of a seraph,--an extremely aggravating seraph. She looks after her soul as if it were the ultimate fact of the universe. She will trim and preen that ridiculous soul, though the heavens fall and the rest of her s.e.x perish."

"Come now, I think there are exceptions."

"A few, but very few. It is a point of honour, a sacred canon. Women will go on patiently drawing water in sieves, and pretend they are usefully employed because it tires them!"

"They believe it," said Algitha.

"Perhaps so. But it's very silly."

"It is really well meant. It is a submission to the supposed will of heaven."

"A poor compliment to Heaven!" Hadria exclaimed.

"Well, it is not, of course, your conception nor mine of the will of heaven, but it is their's."

Hadria shrugged her shoulders. "I wish women would think a little less of Heaven in the abstract, and a little more of one another, in the concrete."

"n.o.body has ever taught them to think of one another; on the contrary, they have always been trained to think of men, and of Heaven, and their souls. That training accounts for their att.i.tude towards their own s.e.x."

"I suppose so. A spirit of sisterhood among women would have sadly upset the social scheme, as it has been hitherto conceived. Indeed the social scheme has made such a spirit well-nigh impossible."

"A conquering race, if it is wise, governs its subjects largely through their internecine squabbles and jealousies. _But what if they combine----?_"

"Ah!" Hadria drew a deep sigh. "I wish the moment of sisterhood were a little nearer."

"Heaven hasten it!" cried Algitha.

"Perhaps it is nearer than we imagine. Women are quick learners, when they begin. But, oh, it is hard sometimes to make them begin. They are so annoyingly abject; so painfully diffident. It is their pride to be humble. The virtuous worm won't even turn!"

"Poor worm! It sometimes permits itself the relief of verbal expression!" observed Algitha.

Hadria laughed. "There are smiling, villainous worms, who deny themselves even _that!_"

After a long silence, Algitha taking the poker in her hand and altering the position of some of the coals, asked what Hadria meant to do in the future; how she was going to "turn," if that was her intention.

"Oh, I cannot even turn!" replied Hadria. "Necessity knows no law. The one thing I won't do, is to be virtuously resigned. And I won't 'make the best of it.'"

Algitha laughed. "I am relieved to hear so wrong-headed a sentiment from you. It sounds more like your old self."

"I won't be called wrong-headed on this account," said Hadria. "If my life is to bear testimony to the truth, its refrain ought to be, 'This is wrong, this is futile, this is cruel, this is d.a.m.nable.' I shall warn every young woman I come across, to beware, as she grows older, and has people in her clutches, not to express her affection by making unlimited demands on the beloved objects, nor by turning the world into a prison-house for those whom she honours with her devotion. The hope of the future lies in the rising generation. You can't alter those who have matured in the old ideas. It is for us to warn. I _won't_ pretend to think that things are all right, when I know they are not all right.

That would be mean. What is called making the best of it, would testify all the wrong way. My life, instead of being a warning, would be a sort of a trap. Let me at least play the humble role of scarecrow. I am in excellent condition for it," she added, grasping her thin wrist.

Algitha shook her head anxiously.

"I fear," she said, "that the moral that most people will draw will be: 'Follow in the path of Mrs. Gordon, however distasteful it may seem to you, and whatever temptations you feel towards a more independent life.

If you don't, you will come to grief.'"

"Then you think it would be better to be 'resigned,' and look after one's own soul?"

"Heaven knows what would be better!" Algitha exclaimed. "But one thing is certain, you ought to look after your body, for the present at any rate."

CHAPTER L.

Hadria had found the autumn saddening, and the winter tempt her to morbid thoughts, but the coming of spring made her desperate. It would not allow her to be pa.s.sive, it would not permit her emotions to lie p.r.o.ne and exhausted. Everything was waking, and she must wake too, to the bitterest regret and the keenest longings of which she was capable.

She had tried to avoid everything that would arouse these futile emotions; she had attempted to organise her life on new lines, persisting in her att.i.tude of non-surrender, but winning, as far as she was able, the rest that, at present, could only be achieved by means of a sort of inward apathy. It was an instinctive effort of self-preservation. She was like a fierce fire, over which ashes have been heaped to keep down the flames, and check its ardour. She had to eat her heart out in dullness, to avoid its flaming out in madness. But the spring came and carried her away on its torrent. She might as well have tried to resist an avalanche. She thought that she had given up all serious thought of music; the surrender was necessary, and she had judged it folly to tempt herself by further dallying with it. It was too strong for her. And the despair that it awoke seemed to break up her whole existence, and render her unfit for her daily task. But now she found that, once more, she had underrated the strength of her own impulses. For some time she resisted, but one day, the sun shone out strong and genial, the budding trees spread their branches to the warm air, a blackbird warbled ecstatically from among the Priory shrubberies, and Hadria pa.s.sed into the garden of the Griffins.

The caretaker smiled, when she saw who stood on the doorstep.

"Why ma'am, I thought you was never coming again to play on the piano; I _have_ missed it, that I have. It makes the old place seem that cheerful--I can almost fancy it's my poor young mistress come back again. She used to sit and play on that piano, by the hour together."

"I am glad you have enjoyed it," said Hadria gently. The blinds were pulled up in the drawing-room, the piano was uncovered, the windows thrown open to the terrace.

"You haven't had much time for playing since your mamma has been ill,"

the woman continued, dusting the keys and setting up the music-rest.

"To-day my mother has a visitor; Mrs. Joseph Fleming is spending the afternoon with her," said Hadria.

"To be sure, ma'am, to be sure, a nice young lady, and so cheerful,"

said the good woman, bustling off to wind up the tall old clock with the wise-looking face, that had been allowed to run down since Hadria's last visit. "Seems more cheerful like," observed the caretaker, as the steady tick-tack began to sound through the quiet room.

"And have you fed my birds regularly, Mrs. Williams?" asked Hadria, taking off her hat and standing at the open window looking out to the terrace.

"Yes indeed, ma'am, every day, just as you used to do when you came yourself. And they has got so tame; they almost eats out of my hand."