CHAPTER XXXVII. SUNSHINE.

ItwasverywellforPaulinatodeclinefurthercorrespondencewithGrahamtillherfatherhadsanctionedtheintercourse.ButDr.BrettoncouldnotlivewithinaleagueoftheH?telCrécy,andnotcontrivetovisitthereoften.Bothloversmeantatfirst,Ibelieve,tobedistanttheykepttheirintentionsofarasdemonstrativecourtshipwent,butinfeelingtheysoondrewverynear. AllthatwasbestinGrahamsoughtPaulinawhateverinhimwasnoble,awoke,andgrewinherpresence.WithhispastadmirationofMissFanshawe,Isupposehisintellecthadlittletodo,buthiswholeintellect,andhishighesttastes,cameinquestionnow.These,likeallhisfaculties,wereactive,eagerfornutriment,andalivetogratificationwhenitcame. IcannotsaythatPaulinadesignedlyledhimtotalkofbooks,orformallyproposedtoherselfforamomentthetaskofwinninghimtoreflection,orplannedtheimprovementofhismind,orsomuchasfanciedhismindcouldinanyonerespectbeimproved.ShethoughthimveryperfectitwasGrahamhimself,who,atfirstbythemerestchance,mentionedsomebookhehadbeenreading,andwheninherresponsesoundedawelcomeharmonyofsympathies,something,pleasanttohissoul,hetalkedon,moreandbetterperhapsthanhehadevertalkedbeforeonsuchsubjects.Shelistenedwithdelight,andansweredwithanimation.Ineachsuccessiveanswer,Grahamheardamusicwaxingfinerandfinertohissenseineachhefoundasuggestive,persuasive,magicaccentthatopenedascarce-knowntreasure-housewithin,showedhimunsuspectedpowerinhisownmind,andwhatwasbetter,latentgoodnessinhisheart.Eachlikedthewayinwhichtheothertalkedthevoice,thediction,theexpressionpleasedeachkeenlyrelishedtheflavouroftheother’swittheymeteachother’smeaningwithstrangequickness,theirthoughtsoftenmatchedlikecarefully-chosenpearls.GrahamhadwealthofmirthbynaturePaulinapossessednosuchinherentflowofanimalspirits—unstimulated,sheinclinedtobethoughtfulandpensive—butnowsheseemedmerryasalarkinherlover’sgenialpresence,sheglancedlikesomesoftgladlight.Howbeautifulshegrewinherhappiness,Icanhardlyexpress,butIwonderedtoseeher.Astothatgentleiceofhers—thatreserveonwhichshehaddependedwherewasitnow?Ah!Grahamwouldnotlongbearithebroughtwithhimagenerousinfluencethatsoonthawedthetimid,self-imposedrestriction. NowweretheoldBrettondaystalkedoverperhapsbrokenlyatfirst,withasortofsmilingdiffidence,thenwithopeningcandourandstillgrowingconfidence.GrahamhadmadeforhimselfabetteropportunitythanthathehadwishedmetogivehehadearnedindependenceofthecollateralhelpthatdisobligingLucyhadrefusedallhisreminiscencesof“littlePolly”foundtheirproperexpressioninhisownpleasanttones,byhisownkindandhandsomelipshowmuchbetterthanifsuggestedbyme. Morethanoncewhenwewerealone,Paulinawouldtellmehowwonderfulandcuriousitwastodiscovertherichnessandaccuracyofhismemoryinthismatter.How,whilehewaslookingather,recollectionswouldseemtobesuddenlyquickenedinhismind.Heremindedherthatshehadoncegatheredhisheadinherarms,caressedhisleoninegraces,andcriedout,“Graham,Idolikeyou!”Hetoldherhowshewouldsetafootstoolbesidehim,andclimbbyitsaidtohisknee.Atthisdayhesaidhecouldrecallthesensationofherlittlehandssmoothinghischeek,orburyingthemselvesinhisthickmane.Herememberedthetouchofhersmallforefinger,placedhalftremblingly,halfcuriously,inthecleftinhischin,thelisp,thelookwithwhichshewouldnameit“aprettydimple,”thenseekhiseyesandquestionwhytheypiercedso,tellinghimhehada“nice,strangefacefarnicer,farstranger,thaneitherhismammaorLucySnowe.” “ChildasIwas,”remarkedPaulina,“IwonderhowIdaredbesoventurous.Tomeheseemsnowallsacred,hislocksareinaccessible,and,Lucy,Ifeelasortoffear,whenIlookathisfirm,marblechin,athisstraightGreekfeatures.Womenarecalledbeautiful,Lucyheisnotlikeawoman,thereforeIsupposeheisnotbeautiful,butwhatishe,then?Dootherpeopleseehimwithmyeyes?Doyouadmirehim?” “I’lltellyouwhatIdo,Paulina,”wasoncemyanswertohermanyquestions.“Ineverseehim.Ilookedathimtwiceorthriceaboutayearago,beforeherecognisedme,andthenIshutmyeyesandifheweretocrosstheirballstwelvetimesbetweeneachday’ssunsetandsunrise,exceptfrommemory,Ishouldhardlyknowwhatshapehadgoneby.” “Lucy,whatdoyoumean?”saidshe,underherbreath. “ImeanthatIvaluevision,anddreadbeingstruckstoneblind.” Itwasbesttoanswerherstronglyatonce,andtosilenceforeverthetender,passionateconfidenceswhichleftherlipssweethoney,andsometimesdroppedinmyear—moltenlead.Tome,shecommentednomoreonherlover’sbeauty. Yetspeakofhimshewouldsometimesshyly,inquiet,briefphrasessometimeswithatendernessofcadence,andmusicofvoiceexquisiteinitselfbutwhichchafedmeattimesmiserablyandthen,Iknow,Igavehersternlooksandwordsbutcloudlesshappinesshaddazzledhernativeclearsight,andsheonlythoughtLucy—fitful. “Spartangirl!ProudLucy!”shewouldsay,smilingatme.“Grahamsaysyouarethemostpeculiar,capriciouslittlewomanheknowsbutyetyouareexcellentweboththinkso.” “Youboththinkyouknownotwhat,”saidI.“Havethegoodnesstomakemeaslittlethesubjectofyourmutualtalkandthoughtsaspossible.Ihavemysortoflifeapartfromyours.” “Butours,Lucy,isabeautifullife,oritwillbeandyoushallshareit.” “Ishallsharenoman’sorwoman’slifeinthisworld,asyouunderstandsharing.IthinkIhaveonefriendofmyown,butamnotsureandtillIamsure,Ilivesolitary.” “Butsolitudeissadness.” “Yesitissadness.Life,howeverhasworsethanthat.Deeperthanmelancholy,liesheart-break.” “Lucy,Iwonderifanybodywillevercomprehendyoualtogether.” Thereis,inlovers,acertaininfatuatio