re growing up
to something, and is, if a momentary shame to them, rather a sign of
promise than not) the gentle male need not be deeply fascinated. Lady
Charlotte was not a fascinating person. She did not lay herself out to
attract. Had she done so, she would have failed to catch Wilfrid, whose
soul thirsted for poetical refinement and filmy delicacies in a woman.
What she had, and what he knew that he wanted, and could only at
intervals assume by acting as if he possessed it, was a victorious
aplomb, which gave her a sort of gallant glory in his sight. He could
act it well before his sisters, and here and there a damsel; and
coming fresh from Lady Charlotte's school, he had recently done so with
success, and had seen the ladies feel toward him, as he felt under his
instructress in the art. Some nature, however, is required for every
piece of art. Wilfrid knew that he had been brutal in his representation
of the part, and the retrospect of his conduct at Brookfield did not
satisfy his remorseless critical judgement. In consequence, when
he again saw Lady Charlotte, his admiration of that one prized
characteristic of hers paralyzed him. She looked, and moved, and spoke,
as if the earth were her own. She was a note of true music, and he felt
himself to be an indecisive chord; capable ultimately of a splendid
performance, it might be, but at present crying out to be played upon.
This is the condition of a man in harness, whom witlings may call what
they will. He is subjugated: not won. In this state of subjugation
he will joyfully sacrifice as much as a man in love. For, having no
consolatory sense of happiness, such as encircles and makes a nest
for lovers, he seeks to attain some stature, at least, by excesses of
apparent devotion. Lady Charlotte believed herself beloved at last. She
was about to strike thirty; and Rumour, stalking with a turban of cloud
on her head,--enough that this shocking old celestial dowager, from
condemnation had passed to pity of the dashing lady. Beloved at last!
After a while there is no question of our loving; but we thirst for
love, if we have not had it. The key of Lady Charlotte will come in
the course of events. She was at the doubtful hour of her life, a
warm-hearted woman, known to be so by few, generally consigned by
devout-visaged Scandal (for who save the devout will dare to sit in the
chair of judgement?) as a hopeless rebel against conventional laws; and
worse than that, far worse,-