CHAPTER XXII. THE LETTER.

atehappiness!”Isaidbrieflytothedoctor:“doyoucultivatehappiness?Howdoyoumanage?” “Iamacheerfulfellowbynature:andthenill-luckhasneverdoggedme.Adversitygavemeandmymotheronepassingscowlandbrush,butwedefiedher,orratherlaughedather,andshewentby.”. “Thereisnocultivationinallthis.” “Idonotgivewaytomelancholy.” “Yes:Ihaveseenyousubduedbythatfeeling.” “AboutGinevraFanshawe—eh?” “Didshenotsometimesmakeyoumiserable?” “Pooh!stuff!nonsense!YouseeIambetternow.” Ifalaughingeyewithalivelylight,andafacebrightwithbeamingandhealthyenergy,couldattestthathewasbetter,betterhecertainlywas. “Youdonotlookmuchamiss,orgreatlyoutofcondition,”Iallowed. “Andwhy,Lucy,can’tyoulookandfeelasIdo—buoyant,courageous,andfittodefyallthenunsandflirtsinChristendom?Iwouldgivegoldonthespotjusttoseeyousnapyourfingers.Trythemanoeuvre.” “IfIweretobringMissFanshaweintoyourpresencejustnow?” “Ivow,Lucy,sheshouldnotmoveme:or,sheshouldmovemebutbyonething—true,yes,andpassionatelove.Iwouldaccordforgivenessatnolessaprice.” “Indeed!asmileofherswouldhavebeenafortunetoyouawhilesince.” “Transformed,Lucy:transformed!Remember,youoncecalledmeaslave!butIamafreemannow!” Hestoodup:intheportofhishead,thecarriageofhisfigure,inhisbeamingeyeandmien,thererevealeditselfalibertywhichwasmorethanease—amoodwhichwasdisdainofhispastbondage. “MissFanshawe,”hepursued,“hasledmethroughaphaseoffeelingwhichisover:Ihaveenteredanothercondition,andamnowmuchdisposedtoexactloveforlove—passionforpassion—andgoodmeasureofit,too.” “Ah,Doctor!Doctor!yousaiditwasyournaturetopursueLoveunderdifficulties—tobecharmedbyaproudinsensibility!”. Helaughed,andanswered,“Mynaturevaries:themoodofonehourissometimesthemockeryofthenext.Well,Lucy”(drawingonhisgloves),“willtheNuncomeagainto-night,thinkyou?” “Idon’tthinkshewill.” “Givehermycompliments,ifshedoes—Dr.John’scompliments—andentreathertohavethegoodnesstowaitavisitfromhim.Lucy,wassheaprettynun?Hadsheaprettyface?Youhavenottoldmethatyetandthatisthereallyimportantpoint.” “Shehadawhiteclothoverherface,”saidI,“buthereyesglittered.” “Confusiontohergoblintrappings!”criedhe,irreverently:“butatleastshehadhandsomeeyes—brightandsoft.” “Coldandfixed,”wasthereply. “No,no,we’llnoneofher:sheshallnothauntyou,Lucy.Giveherthatshakeofthehand,ifshecomesagain.Willshestandthat,doyouthink?” Ithoughtittookindandcordialforaghosttostand:andsowasthesmilewhichmatchedit,andaccompaniedhis“Good-night.” Andhadtherebeenanythinginthegarret?Whatdidtheydiscover?Ibelieve,ontheclosestexamination,theirdiscoveriesamountedtoverylittle.Theytalked,atfirst,ofthecloaksbeingdisturbedbutMadameBecktoldmeafterwardsshethoughttheyhungmuchasusual:andasforthebrokenpaneintheskylight,sheaffirmedthataperturewasrarelywithoutoneormorepanesbrokenorcracked:andbesides,aheavyhail-stormhadfallenafewdaysago.MadamequestionedmeverycloselyastowhatIhadseen,butIonlydescribedanobscurefigureclothedinblack:Itookcarenottobreathetheword“nun,”certainthatthiswordwouldatoncesuggesttohermindanideaofromanceandunreality.Shechargedmetosaynothingonthesubjecttoanyservant,pupil,orteacher,andhighlycommendedmydiscretionincomingtoherprivatesalle-à-manger,insteadofcarryingthetaleofhorrortotheschoolrefectory.Thusthesubjectdropped.Iwasleftsecretlyandsadlytowonder,inmyownmind,whetherthatstrangethingwasofthisworld,orofarealmbeyondthegraveorwhetherindeeditwasonlythechildofmalady,andIofthatmaladytheprey.