are very pardonable for fancying him ridiculous. Doubtless, he
is so--to you! There can be no truer test of the noble and heroic, in
any individual, than the degree in which he possesses the faculty of
distinguishing heroism from absurdity."
I dared make no retort to Zenobia's concluding apothegm. In truth, I
admired her fidelity. It gave me a new sense of Hollingsworth's native
power, to discover that his influence was no less potent with this
beautiful woman here, in the midst of artificial life, than it had been
at the foot of the gray rock, and among the wild birch-trees of the
wood-path, when she so passionately pressed his hand against her heart.
The great, rude, shaggy, swarthy man! And Zenobia loved him!
"Did you bring Priscilla with you?" I resumed. "Do you know I have
sometimes fancied it not quite safe, considering the susceptibility of
her temperament, that she should be so constantly within the sphere of
a man like Hollingsworth. Such tender and delicate natures, among your
sex, have often, I believe, a very adequate appreciation of the heroic
element in men. But then, again, I should suppose them as likely as
any other women to make a reciprocal impression. Hollingsworth could
hardly give his affections to a person capable of taking an independent
stand, but only to one whom he might absorb into himself. He has
certainly shown great tenderness for Priscilla."
Zenobia had turned aside. But I caught the reflection of her face in
the mirror, and saw that it was very pale,--as pale, in her rich
attire, as if a shroud were round her.
"Priscilla is here," said she, her voice a little lower than usual.
"Have not you learnt as much from your chamber window? Would you like
to see her?"
She made a step or two into the back drawing-room, and
called,--"Priscilla! Dear Priscilla!"
XX. THEY VANISH
Priscilla immediately answered the summons, and made her appearance
through the door of the boudoir. I had conceived the idea, which I now
recognized as a very foolish one, that Zenobia would have taken
measures to debar me from an interview with this girl, between whom and
herself there was so utter an opposition of their dearest interests,
that, on one part or the other, a great grief, if not likewise a great
wrong, seemed a matter of necessity. But, as Priscilla was only a leaf
floating on the dark current of events, without influencing them by her
own choice or plan, as she probably guess
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