As Marion Arleigh read the passionate1, poetical2 words that had been written expressly for her, her face flushed. How wonderful it was to hold a man's life in her hands—to sway a genius so that her nod meant stay or go, her least words meant happiness or misery3! She looked around with something of pity for other girls who had not this new and wonderful sensation.
"A life in her hands!" There came to her, young as she was, a vague idea of woman's power for good or for evil. A cruel or cold word from her, and the artist would go in his misery only to seek death in some far-off land. A kind word, and he would remain—his genius would have its sway, and he would paint pictures that the world should glory in.
"I have arranged it all," said Miss Lyster. "Miss Carleton is going to-day to that grand dinner-party at Macdonald's. She has given orders that the young ladies shall go over to Herrington, and take some refreshments4 with them—it will be a picnic on a small scale. You can excuse yourself from going. I will volunteer to remain with you, and toward sunset, we will walk through the old orchard6. Allan will await us there."
The girl's heart beat; it was a romantic dream after all—that strange, wonderful reality; the interview she had so often imagined was to take place at last.
"I cannot tell an untruth," she said to Miss Lyster; "I could not if I tried. How could I excuse myself from going?"
Adelaide looked slightly shocked.
"I would not ask you to speak untruthfully, not even to save Allan's life, dearly as I love him," she said. "There is no need. Say you are not inclined to go. Miss Carleton will not interfere7 with the whims8 of an heiress."
So it was arranged, and everything fell out just as Adelaide Lyster had foreseen. Miss Carleton did not care to interfere with the whims of a great heiress like Marion Arleigh.
"By all means, stay at home, my love, if you wish, and Miss Lyster, too. She is an admirable young person; so prudent9, so discreet10. I could not leave you in better hands."
Marion Arleigh lived afterward11 to be presented at Court, but she never again felt the same diffidence, the same trepidation12, as when, with her false friend by her side, she went down the steps that led to the orchard. The hedge was high and thick, tall trees formed a complete barrier between the grounds and the high road, no strangers or passersby13 could be seen. Miss Lyster had chosen her time well. She knew that in the lady superintendent's absence the servants would hold high revels14; there was no fear of interruption.
In after life Marion Arleigh remembered every detail of that evening. It was May then, and the hedge was white with hawthorn15; there was a gleam of gold from the laburnums, and the scent16 of the lilacs filled the air; the apple trees were all in blossom, the birds were singing, the sun shining, warmth and fragrance17 and beauty lay all around her.
Far down the orchard, standing18 sketching19 a picturesque20 old tree, was the artist, Allan Lyster. He looked up as the sound of light footsteps rustled21 in the grass. When he saw who was coming he flung down his pencils and advanced, hat in hand.
There was something graceful22 and poetical, after all, in the way in which he went up to Miss Arleigh and knelt lightly on one knee.
"I would kiss the hem5 of your robe if I dared," he said. "How am I to thank you?"
Then he sprang up and took his sister's hand in his. He allowed no time for confusion and embarrassment—he was too clever for that.
"How am I to thank you, Miss Arleigh?" he said. "If the sun had fallen from the heavens, I could not have felt, more surprise than your kindness has caused me. My sister tells me you are good enough not to be angry at my presumption23."
Miss Lyster laughed.
"I think, Allan," she said, "that I shall leave you to listen to Miss Arleigh's lecture alone. She will be able to say harder words to you if I am not by to listen. I will see if I can finish your picture."
She walked over to the tree where paper and pencils lay, leaving them alone, and though she was a woman, and young—though she knew that she was most foully24 betraying a girl whose youth and innocence25 might have pleaded for her, she had not even a passing thought of pity. "Let Allan win the fortune if he can. He will make better use of it than she could."
"You are so good to me," murmured the young artist, his dark eyes flashing keenly for one-half a minute over that beautiful face. "I am at a loss for words."
Allan Lyster was gifted with a most musical voice, and he understood perfectly26 well how to make the most use of it. The pathos27 with which he said those words was wonderful to hear.
"I am glad to see you," she said. "Your sister tells me you think of going abroad."
"Has she told you why?" he asked eagerly.
Marion's face grew crimson28. The beautiful eyes dropped from his. She drew back ever so little, but another keen, sharp glance told him she was not angry; only shy and timid.
"You are so good to me," he continued, with passionate eagerness, "that I am not afraid to tell you. I must go; life here is torture to me; it is torture to see you, to hear you speak, to worship you with a heart full of fire, and yet to know that the sun is not farther from me than you, to know that if I laid my life at your feet you would only laugh at me and think me mad. It is torture so great that exile and death seem preferable."
He saw her lips quiver, and her eyes, half raised, had in them no angry light.
"You are a great lady," he said, "rich, noble, powerful. I am a poor artist. I have but one gift—that is genius. And I have dared, fired by such a beauty as woman never had before, to raise my eyes to you. They are dazzled, blinded, and I must suffer for my rashness; and yet—"
He paused, gave another keen glance, felt perfectly satisfied that what he was saying was well received, then went on:
"Artists before now have loved great ladies, and by their genius have immortalized them. But I am mad to say such things. This is the age of money-worship, and art is no longer valued as in those times."
"I do not value money," she said, in a clear, sweet voice. "I value many things a thousand times more highly."
"You are an angel!" he cried. "Even though my love tortures me, I would not change it for the highest pleasures other men enjoy. The poets learn by suffering what they teach in song; so it will be with me. Sorrow will make me a great artist; whereas, if I had been a happy man, I might never, perhaps, have risen much above the common level. I am resigned to suffer all my life."
"I do not like to hear you speak so," she said. "Life will not be all suffering."
"I have raised my eyes, looked at the sun, and it has dazzled me," he said. "Ah, lady, I have had such dreams, of love that overleaped all barriers, as Art has rendered loveliness immortal29 for all time. I have dreamed of loves such as Petrarch had for Laura, Dante for Beatrice, and I wake to call myself mad for indulging in such dreams."
She was deeply interested. This was exactly as heros spoke30 in novels; they always had a lofty contempt for money, and talked as though love was the only and universal good. She looked half shyly at him; he was very handsome, this young artist who loved her so, and very sad. How dearly he loved her, and how strange it was! In all this wide world there was not one who cared for her as he did; the thought seemed to bring her nearer to him. No one had ever talked of loving her before. Perhaps the beauty of the May evening softened31 her and inclined her heart to him; for after a few minutes' silence she said to him:
"We are forgetting the very object for which I consented to see you."
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1
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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2
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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3
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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7
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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8
WHIMS
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| 虚妄，禅病 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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trepidation
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| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
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passersby
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| n. 过路人(行人,经过者) | |
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14
revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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15
hawthorn
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| 山楂 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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17
fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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18
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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21
rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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foully
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| ad.卑鄙地 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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28
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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29
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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30
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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31
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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