etallyounggrassofthenewyear,thebuttercupsflauntedthemselvesgaily,carelessofthepitilessnight,rejoicinginthesunshine,asbeforetheyhadrejoicedintheenliveningrain.Thepleasantrain-dropsstilllingeredonthedaisies.Thefeatheryballofthedandelion,carriedbythebreeze,floatedpastlikeasymbolofthelifeofman—arandomthing,resistlesstothemerestbreath,withnomissionbuttospreaditsseeduponthefertileearth,sothatthingslikeuntoitshouldspringupinthesucceedingsummer,andfloweruncaredfor,andreproducethemselves,anddie.
JamesdecidedfinallythathemustbreakthatveryeveninghisengagementwithMary.Hecouldnotputitoff.Everydaymadehisdifficultygreater,anditwasimpossibleanylongertoavoidthediscussionoftheirmarriage,norcouldhecontinuetotreatMarywithnothingbetterthanfriendliness.Herealisedallhergoodqualitiesshewasfrank,andhonest,andsimpleanxioustodorightcharitableaccordingtoherlightkindnessitself.JamesfeltsincerelygratefulfortheaffectionatetendernesswhichMaryshowedtohisfatherandmother.Hewasthankfulforthatandformuchelse,andwaspreparedtolookuponherasaverygoodfriend,evenasasisterbuthedidnotloveher.Hecouldnotlookupontheprospectofmarriagewithoutrepulsion.NordidMary,hesaid,reallylovehim.Heknewwhatlovewas—somethingdifferententirelyfromthatpallidflameofaffectionandesteem,ofwhichaloneshewascapable.Marylovedhimforcertainqualitiesofmind,becausehisstationinlifewasdecent,hismannerspassable,hismoralsbeyondreproach.
"ShemightaswellmarrytheTenCommandments!"hecriedimpatiently.
Marycaredforhimfromhabit,fromasenseofdecorum,andforthefitnessofthingsbutthatwasnotlove.Heshruggedhisshouldersscornfully,lookingforsomewordtoexpressthemildlypleasant,unagitatingemotion.James,whohadbeendevouredbyit,whohadstruggledwithitaswithadeadlysin,whohadkilleditfinallywhile,likeaserpentofevil,itclungtohisthroat,drinkinghislife'sblood,Jamesknewwhatlovewas—afireintheveins,adivineaffliction,apassion,afrenzy,amadness.Theloveheknewwastheloveofthebodyoffleshandblood,thelovethatengenders,thelovethatkills