rbenttomeditationandhaplyinspiration—whathadshetodowithlove?“Nothing,”wastheanswerofherownsad,thoughgentlecountenanceitseemedtosay,“Imustcultivatefortitudeandclingtopoetryoneistobemysupportandtheothermysolacethroughlife.Humanaffectionsdonotbloom,nordohumanpassionsglowforme.”Otherwomenhavesuchthoughts.Frances,hadshebeenasdesolateasshedeemed,wouldnothavebeenworseoffthanthousandsofhersex.Lookattherigidandformalraceofoldmaids—theracewhomalldespisetheyhavefedthemselves,fromyouthupwards,onmaximsofresignationandendurance.Manyofthemgetossifiedwiththedrydietself-controlissocontinuallytheirthought,soperpetuallytheirobject,thatatlastitabsorbsthesofterandmoreagreeablequalitiesoftheirnatureandtheydiemeremodelsofausterity,fashionedoutofalittleparchmentandmuchbone.Anatomistswilltellyouthatthereisaheartinthewitheredoldmaid’scarcass—thesameasinthatofanycherishedwifeorproudmotherintheland.Canthisbeso?Ireallydon’tknowbutfeelinclinedtodoubtit.
Icameforward,badeFrances“goodevening,”andtookmyseat.ThechairIhadchosenwasoneshehadprobablyjustleftitstoodbyalittletablewherewereheropendeskandpapers.Iknownotwhethershehadfullyrecognizedmeatfirst,butshedidsonowandinavoice,softbutquiet,shereturnedmygreeting.Ihadshownnoeagernessshetookhercuefromme,andevincednosurprise.Wemetaswehadalwaysmet,asmasterandpupil—nothingmore.IproceededtohandlethepapersFrances,observantandserviceable,steppedintoaninnerroom,broughtacandle,litit,placeditbymethendrewthecurtainoverthelattice,andhavingaddedalittlefreshfueltothealreadybrightfire,shedrewasecondchairtothetableandsatdownatmyrighthand,alittleremoved.ThepaperonthetopwasatranslationofsomegraveFrenchauthorintoEnglish,butunderneathlayasheetwithstanzasonthisIlaidhands.Franceshalfrose,madeamovementtorecoverthecapturedspoil,saying,thatwasnothing—amerecopyofverses.IputbyresistancewiththedecisionIknewsheneverlongopposedbutonthisoccasionherfingershadfastenedonthepaper.Ihadquietlytounloosethemtheirholddissolvedtomytouchherhandshrunkawaymyownwouldfainhavefollowedit,butforthepresentIforbadesuchimpulse.ThefirstpageofthesheetwasoccupiedwiththelinesIhadoverheardthesequelwasnotexactlythewriter’sownexperience,butacompositionbyportionsofthatexperiencesuggested.Thuswhileegotismwasavoided,thefancywasexercised,andtheheartsatisfied.Itr