Vashti Part 28

"You merely wish to complete your diagnosis of my psychological condition? If so, there is no reason why I should hesitate to tell you that while I was playing one of Chopin's _Nocturnes_ the significance of the Polish '_Zal_' perplexed me. In striving to a.n.a.lyze it, Coleridge's 'Melancholy' occurred to my mind, and teased and haunted me until I wrought it out palpably. My work there means more than his fragment, and includes something which I suppose Chopin meant by that insynonymous word '_Zal_.'"

Standing under the arch, with one hand holding back the lace drapery, the other hanging nerveless at her side, she looked as weird as any of her ideal creations; and, in the greenish seashine breaking through the dense foliage of the trees about the house, her wan face, snowy muslin dress, and floating white ribbons, seemed unsubstantial as the figures on the wall. To-day there was no spot of color in face or dress, save the azure gleam of the large, brilliant ring, on her uplifted hand; and, as Dr. Grey scrutinized her appearance, he found it difficult to realize that blood pulsed in that marble flesh, and warm breath fluttered in that firm, frigid mouth. Glancing around the rooms, he said,--

"Solitude is indeed a misnomer for a home peopled with such creations as adorn these walls."

"No. Have you forgotten the definition of Epictetus? '_To be friendless is solitude._'"

"I hope, madam, that you may never find yourself in that unfortunate category, and certainly there are--"

"Sir, I know what Michael Angelo felt when he wrote from Rome, 'I have no friends; I need none.'"

She interrupted him with an indescribably haughty gesture, and an anomalous spasm of the lips that belonged to no known cla.s.s of smiles.

"On the contrary, Mrs. Gerome, the hunger for true friends has rendered you morose and cynical."

He did not shrink from the wide eyes that flashed like blue steel in moonshine; and as his own, calm, steady, and magnetic, dwelt gravely on her face, he fancied she winced, slightly.

"No, sir. When I hunt or recognize friends, I shall borrow Diogenes'

lantern. Good morning, Dr. Grey."

"Pardon me if I detain you for a moment to inquire who taught you to paint."

"The absolute necessity of self-forgetfulness."

"But you surely had some tuition in the art?"

"Yes; I had the usual boarding-school privilege of a master for perspective, and pastel. Dr. Grey, have you been to Europe?"

"Yes, madam; on several occasions."

"You visited Dresden?"

"I did."

"Step forward a little,--there. Now, sir, do you know that painting hanging over my _escritoire_?"

"It is Ruysdael's 'Churchyard,' and, from this distance, seems a remarkably fine copy of that sombre, desolate, ghoul-haunted picture."

"Thank you. That is the only piece of work of which I feel really proud. Some day, when the light is pure and strong, come in and examine it. Now there is a greenish tinge over all things in the room thrown by sea-shimmer through the cl.u.s.tering leaves. Ah, what a long, low, presageful moan that was, which broke from foaming lips, on yonder strand!"

"Good morning, Mrs. Gerome. The inspection of your pictures has yielded me so much pleasure that I must tender you my very sincere thanks for your courtesy."

She bowed distantly; and, when he reached his buggy, he glanced back and saw that perfect, pallid face, pressed against the cedar facing of the oriel, looking seaward. He lifted his hat, but she did not observe the salute; and, as he drove away, she kept her eyes upon the murmuring waves, and repeated, as was her habit, the lines that chanced to present themselves,--

"Listen! you hear the solemn roar Begin, and cease, and then again begin, With tremulous cadence, slow, and bring The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles, long ago, Heard it on the aegean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery."

CHAPTER XV.

"Miss Dexter, where is Muriel?" asked Dr. Grey, glancing around the library, where the governess sat sewing, while Salome read aloud a pa.s.sage in Ariosto.

"She is not very well, and went up stairs, two hours ago, to rest. Do you wish to see her immediately?"

"Yes. Call her down."

When the teacher left the room, Dr. Grey approached the table where Salome sat, and looked over her shoulder.

"I went to the Asylum to-day, and found little Jessie very well, but quite dissatisfied because you visit her so rarely. You should see her as often as possible, since she is so dependent upon you for sympathy and affection."

"I do."

"Miss Dexter gives a flattering report of your apt.i.tude for acquiring languages, and a.s.sures me that you will soon speak Italian fluently."

"Miss Dexter doubtless believes that praise of a pupil reflects credit on the skill of the teacher. Unfortunately for her flattering estimate of me, I must disclaim all polyglot proclivities, and have no intention of eclipsing Mezzofanti, Max Muller, or Giovanni Pico Mirandola. I needed, for a special purpose, a limited acquaintance with Italian; and, as I have attained what I desired, I shall not trouble myself much longer with dictionaries and grammars."

"And that special purpose--"

"Concerns n.o.body else, consequently I keep it to myself."

He turned from her and advanced to meet his ward, who came rapidly forward, holding out both hands.

"Doctor, where have you been all day? I did not see you at breakfast or dinner, and it seems quite an age since yesterday afternoon. You see I am moping, horribly."

"My dear child, I see you are looking pale and weary, which is overt and unpardonable treason. I sent for you to ask if it would be agreeable to you to walk, or drive with me."

"Certainly,--either or both."

She had placed her hands in his, and stood looking up joyfully into his quiet countenance.

"Get your hat, while I order my buggy brought to the door."

"Thank you, my dear doctor. The very thing I longed for, as I noticed you riding up the avenue. I never saw you on horseback until to-day.

It is a delightful evening for a drive."

She gaily swung his hands, like a gratified child, and started off for her hat, but, ere she crossed the threshold, turned back, and, walking up to her guardian, laid her arm on his shoulder and whispered something.

He laughed, and put his hand under her chin, saying, as he did so,--

"Little witch! How did you know it?"

Her reply was audible only to the ears for which it was framed, and she darted away, evidently much happier than she had seemed for many days.

While awaiting her return, Dr. Grey picked up her sketch-book, and was examining the contents, when Salome rose and hurried towards the door.

As she pa.s.sed him, his back was turned, and her muslin dress swept within reach of his spur, which caught the delicate fabric. She impatiently jerked the dress to disengage it, but it clung to the steel points, and a long rent was made in the muslin. With a half-smothered e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, she tried to wrench herself free, but the dress only tore across the breadth from seam to seam. Dr. Grey turned, and stooped to a.s.sist her.