第159章

第159章thetranslationofafewpagesofgermanoccupiedanhour;thenigotmypaletteandpencils,andfelltothemoresoothing,becauseeasieroccupation,ofcompletingrosamondoliver’sminiature.theheadwasfinishedalready:therewasbutthebackgroundtotintandthedraperytoshadeoff;atouchofcarmine,too,toaddtotheripelips—asoftcurlhereandtheretothetresses—adeepertingetotheshadowofthelashundertheazuredeyelid.iwasabsorbedintheexecutionofthesenicedetails,when,afteronerapidtap,mydoorunclosed,admittingst.johnrivers.

“iamcometoseehowyouarespendingyourholiday,”hesaid.“not,ihope,inthought?no,thatiswell:whileyoudrawyouwillnotfeellonely.yousee,imistrustyoustill,thoughyouhaveborneupwonderfullysofar.ihavebroughtyouabookforeveningsolace,”andhelaidonthetableanewpublication—apoem:oneofthosegenuineproductionssooftenvouchsafedtothefortunatepublicofthosedays—thegoldenageofmodernliterature.alas!thereadersofoureraarelessfavoured.butcourage!iwillnotpauseeithertoaccuseorrepine.iknowpoetryisnotdead,norgeniuslost;norhasmammongainedpowerovereither,tobindorslay:theywillbothasserttheirexistence,theirpresence,theirlibertyandstrengthagainoneday.powerfulangels,safeinheaven!theysmilewhensordidsoulstriumph,andfeebleonesweepovertheirdestruction.poetrydestroyed?geniusbanished?no!mediocrity,no:donotletenvypromptyoutothethought.no;theynotonlylive,butreignandredeem:andwithouttheirdivineinfluencespreadeverywhere,youwouldbeinhell—thehellofyourownmeanness.

whileiwaseagerlyglancingatthebrightpagesof“marmion”(for“marmion”itwas),st.johnstoopedtoexaminemydrawing.histallfiguresprangerectagainwithastart:hesaidnothing.ilookedupathim:heshunnedmyeye.iknewhisthoughtswell,andcouldreadhisheartplainly;atthemomentifeltcalmerandcoolerthanhe:ihadthentemporarilytheadvantageofhim,andiconceivedaninclinationtodohimsomegood,ificould.

“withallhisfirmnessandself-control,”thoughti,“hetaskshimselftoofar:lockseveryfeelingandpangwithin—expresses,confesses,impartsnothing.iamsureitwouldbenefithimtotalkalittleaboutthissweetrosamond,whomhethinksheoughtnottomarry:iwillmakehimtalk.”

isaidfirst,“takeachair,mr.rivers.”butheanswered,ashealwaysdid,thathecouldnotstay.“verywell,”iresponded,mentally,“standifyoulike;butyoushallnotgojustyet,iamdetermined:solitudeisatleastasbadforyouasitisforme.i’lltryificannotdiscoverthesecretspringofyourconfidence,andfindanapertureinthatmarblebreastthroughwhichicanshedonedropofthebalmofsympathy.”

“isthisportraitlike?”iaskedbluntly.

“like!likewhom?ididnotobserveitclosely.”

“youdid,mr.rivers.”

healmoststartedatmysuddenandstrangeabruptness:helookedatmeastonished.“oh,thatisnothingyet,”imutteredwithin.“idon’tmeantobebaffledbyalittlestiffnessonyourpart;i’mpreparedtogotoconsiderablelengths.”icontinued,“youobserveditcloselyanddistinctly;butihavenoobjectiontoyourlookingatitagain,”andiroseandplaceditinhishand.

“awell-executedpicture,”hesaid;“verysoft,clearcolouring;verygracefulandcorrectdrawing.”

“yes,yes;iknowallthat.butwhatoftheresemblance?whoisitlike?”

masteringsomehesitation,heanswered,“missoliver,ipresume.”

“ofcourse.andnow,sir,torewardyoufortheaccurateguess,iwillpromisetopaintyouacarefulandfaithfulduplicateofthisverypicture,providedyouadmitthatthegiftwouldbeacceptabletoyou.idon’twishtothrowawaymytimeandtroubleonanofferingyouwoulddeemworthless.”

hecontinuedtogazeatthepicture:thelongerhelooked,thefirmerheheldit,themoreheseemedtocovetit.“itislike!”hemurmured;“theeyeiswellmanaged:thecolour,light,expression,areperfect.itsmiles!”

“woulditcomfort,orwoulditwoundyoutohaveasimilarpainting?tellmethat.whenyouareatmadagascar,oratthecape,orinindia,woulditbeaconsolationtohavethatmementoinyourpossession?orwouldthesightofitbringrecollectionscalculatedtoenervateanddistress?”

henowfurtivelyraisedhiseyes:heglancedatme,irresolute,disturbed:heagainsurveyedthepicture.

“thatishouldliketohaveitiscertain:whetheritwouldbejudiciousorwiseisanotherquestion.”

sinceihadascertainedthatrosamondreallypreferredhim,andthatherfatherwasnotlikelytoopposethematch,i—lessexaltedinmyviewsthanst.john—hadbeenstronglydisposedinmyownhearttoadvocatetheirunion.itseemedtomethat,shouldhebecomethepossessorofmr.oliver’slargefortune,hemightdoasmuchgoodwithitasifhewentandlaidhisgeniusouttowither,andhisstrengthtowaste,underatropicalsun.withthispersuasioninowanswered—

“asfarasicansee,itwouldbewiserandmorejudiciousifyouweretotaketoyourselftheoriginalatonce.”

bythistimehehadsatdown:hehadlaidthepictureonthetablebeforehim,andwithhisbrowsupportedonbothhands,hungfondlyoverit.idiscernedhewasnowneitherangrynorshockedatmyaudacity.isaweventhattobethusfranklyaddressedonasubjecthehaddeemedunapproachable—tohearitthusfreelyhandled—wasbeginningtobefeltbyhimasanewpleasure—anunhoped-forrelief.reservedpeopleoftenreallyneedthefrankdiscussionoftheirsentimentsandgriefsmorethantheexpansive.thesternest-seemingstoicishumanafterall;andto“burst”withboldnessandgood-willinto“thesilentsea”oftheirsoulsisoftentoconferonthemthefirstofobligations.