t, the world of Malines
thought. We were not quite so sure that the change would prove
altogether to her advantage. She had been quite pretty enough before,
and we thought she could well have done without developing further
physical attractions. She had always known how to use her eyes, not
unfrequently shedding their beneficent light on two persons at the
same time, and we considered that that number should not be exceeded.
But now their activity seemed daily increasing, and it was not without
concern that we noticed in her a certain restlessness and a growing
tendency to discuss with the serpent questions relating to the
acquisition of prohibited apples. After a while, and perhaps in
consequence of the good advice we gave her, she sobered down and
surprised us by her docility; but at best her moods were uncertain and
she puzzled us much.
[Illustration]
"Now, Bobtail," said Rag, as we walked along the sober old streets
of Malines, discussing the state of Carry's mind and heart. (He has
omitted the streets, but has put us into our very best mediaeval suit.)
"Now, Bobtail, what do you think? Is she in love? And if so, with
whom?"
"She may be, or she may be not," said Bobtail, with oracular
discretion; "but, if she is, it can only be with one of us. She would
not waste her sentiment on a native whilst we were within reach."
"But which of us is it?" asked Rag, somewhat alarmed.
"I know not; but I hope neither," answered the oracle thus appealed
to; "but the state of her mind, I believe, is this: If she were to
marry you, she would fall in love with me; and if she were to marry
me, she would fall in love with you."
This dictum must have impressed du Maurier, for it started him on
a series of drawings, with accompanying text in illustration of it.
There were to be two volumes. The first, in which I figure as the
husband, was rapidly produced; the second, in which he was to be the
husband, never saw the light of day. It was shelved _sine die_, a
proceeding I always thought particularly unfair, as he never gave _me_
a chance of being loved. I am compensated, however, by the possession
of the first volume of the "Noces de Picciola," or "Cari-catures," as
they are called. On the title-page Bobtail is made to say:--
[Illustration]
"If Carry were to marry one of us,
I'd give thee any odds she would be safe,
O Rag, to love the other--"
(_Shakespere_. "_Two Swells of Antwerp_.")
"Varium et mutabi
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