oat and let it drift toward the weir. But his distant
moans do not greatly pain me now; rather am I elated to find (as the
waters bring him nearer) that this boy is I, for it is something to
know that, once upon a time, a woman could draw blood from me as from
another.

I saw her again, years afterward, when she was a married woman playing
with her children. She stamped her foot at a naughty one, and I saw the
gleam of her teeth as she gnashed them in the dear pretty way I can't
forget; and then a boy and girl, fighting for her shoulders, brought
the whole group joyously to the ground. She picked herself up in the old
leisurely manner, lazily active, and looked around her benignantly,
like a cow: our dear wild one safely tethered at last with a rope of
children. I meant to make her my devoirs, but, as I stepped forward, the
old wound broke out afresh, and I had to turn away. They were but a
few poor drops, which fell because I found that she was even a little
sweeter than I had thought.

X. Sporting Reflections

I have now told you (I presume) how I became whimsical, and I fear it
would please Mary not at all. But speaking of her, and, as the cat's
light keeps me in a ruminating mood, suppose, instead of returning Mary
to her lover by means of the letter, I had presented a certain clubman
to her consideration? Certainly no such whimsical idea crossed my mind
when I dropped the letter, but between you and me and my night-socks,
which have all this time been airing by the fire because I am subject to
cold feet, I have sometimes toyed with it since.

Why did I not think of this in time? Was it because I must ever remain
true to the unattainable she?

I am reminded of a passage in the life of a sweet lady, a friend of
mine, whose daughter was on the eve of marriage, when suddenly her lover
died. It then became pitiful to watch that trembling old face trying to
point the way of courage to the young one. In time, however, there came
another youth, as true, I dare say, as the first, but not so well known
to me, and I shrugged my shoulders cynically to see my old friend once
more a matchmaker. She took him to her heart and boasted of him; like
one made young herself by the great event, she joyously dressed her pale
daughter in her bridal gown, and, with smiles upon her face, she cast
rice after the departing carriage. But soon after it had gone, I chanced
upon her in her room, and she was on her knees in tears before