hich her enemies called cold
as a cuttle-fish's, but which by her were esteemed gazelle-like; for
Goneril was not without vanity. Those who thought they best knew her,
often wondered what happiness such a being could take in life, not
considering the happiness which is to be had by some natures in the very
easy way of simply causing pain to those around them. Those who suffered
from Goneril's strange nature, might, with one of those hyberboles to
which the resentful incline, have pronounced her some kind of toad; but
her worst slanderers could never, with any show of justice, have accused
her of being a toady. In a large sense she possessed the virtue of
independence of mind. Goneril held it flattery to hint praise even of
the absent, and even if merited; but honesty, to fling people's imputed
faults into their faces. This was thought malice, but it certainly was
not passion. Passion is human. Like an icicle-dagger, Goneril at once
stabbed and froze; so at least they said; and when she saw frankness and
innocence tyrannized into sad nervousness under her spell, according to
the same authority, inly she chewed her blue clay, and you could mark
that she chuckled. These peculiarities were strange and unpleasing; but
another was alleged, one really incomprehensible. In company she had a
strange way of touching, as by accident, the arm or hand of comely young
men, and seemed to reap a secret delight from it, but whether from the
humane satisfaction of having given the evil-touch, as it is called, or
whether it was something else in her, not equally wonderful, but quite
as deplorable, remained an enigma.

Needless to say what distress was the unfortunate man's, when, engaged
in conversation with company, he would suddenly perceive his Goneril
bestowing her mysterious touches, especially in such cases where the
strangeness of the thing seemed to strike upon the touched person,
notwithstanding good-breeding forbade his proposing the mystery, on the
spot, as a subject of discussion for the company. In these cases, too,
the unfortunate man could never endure so much as to look upon the
touched young gentleman afterwards, fearful of the mortification of
meeting in his countenance some kind of more or less quizzingly-knowing
expression. He would shudderingly shun the young gentleman. So that
here, to the husband, Goneril's touch had the dread operation of the
heathen taboo. Now Goneril brooked no chiding. So, at favorable times,
he