There were girls, indeed, whose fineness, like that of Burd Helen in the ballad, lay in clinging to the man of their love through thick and thin, and in bowing their head to all hard usage.
This attitude had often an exquisite beauty of its own, but Rowland deemed that he had solid reason to believe it never could be Mary Garland's.She was not a passive creature;she was not soft and meek and grateful for chance bounties.
With all her reserve of manner she was proud and eager;she asked much and she wanted what she asked; she believed in fine things and she never could long persuade herself that fine things missed were as beautiful as fine things achieved.
Once Rowland passed an angry day.He had dreamed--it was the most insubstantial of dreams--that she had given him the right to believe that she looked to him to transmute her discontent.
And yet here she was throwing herself back into Roderick's arms at his lightest overture, and playing with his own half fearful, half shameful hopes! Rowland declared to himself that his position was essentially detestable, and that all the philosophy he could bring to bear upon it would make it neither honorable nor comfortable.He would go away and make an end of it.
He did not go away; he simply took a long walk, stayed away from the inn all day, and on his return found Miss Garland sitting out in the moonlight with Roderick.
Rowland, communing with himself during the restless ramble in question, had determined that he would at least cease to observe, to heed, or to care for what Miss Garland and Roderick might do or might not do together.Nevertheless, some three days afterward, the opportunity presenting itself, he deliberately broached the subject with Roderick.He knew this was inconsistent and faint-hearted; it was indulgence to the fingers that itched to handle forbidden fruit.But he said to himself that it was really more logical to be inconsistent than the reverse;for they had formerly discussed these mysteries very candidly.
Was it not perfectly reasonable that he should wish to know the sequel of the situation which Roderick had then delineated?
Roderick had made him promises, and it was to be expected that he should ascertain how the promises had been kept.
Rowland could not say to himself that if the promises had been extorted for Mary Garland's sake, his present attention to them was equally disinterested; and so he had to admit that he was indeed faint-hearted.He may perhaps be deemed too narrow a casuist, but we have repeated more than once that he was solidly burdened with a conscience.
"I imagine," he said to Roderick, "that you are not sorry, at present, to have allowed yourself to be dissuaded from ****** a final rupture with Miss Garland."Roderick eyed him with the vague and absent look which had lately become habitual to his face, and repeated "Dissuaded?""Don't you remember that, in Rome, you wished to break your engagement, and that I urged you to respect it, though it seemed to hang by so slender a thread? I wished you to see what would come of it?
If I am not mistaken, you are reconciled to it.""Oh yes," said Roderick, "I remember what you said; you made it a kind of personal favor to yourself that I should remain faithful.I consented, but afterwards, when I thought of it, your attitude greatly amused me.
Had it ever been seen before?--a man asking another man to gratify him by not suspending his attentions to a pretty girl!""It was as selfish as anything else," said Rowland.
"One man puts his selfishness into one thing, and one into another.
It would have utterly marred my comfort to see Miss Garland in low spirits.""But you liked her--you admired her, eh? So you intimated.""I admire her profoundly."
"It was your originality then--to do you justice you have a great deal, of a certain sort--to wish her happiness secured in just that fashion.
Many a man would have liked better himself to make the woman he admired happy, and would have welcomed her low spirits as an opening for sympathy.
You were awfully queer about it."
"So be it!" said Rowland."The question is, Are you not glad I was queer?
Are you not finding that your affection for Miss Garland has a permanent quality which you rather underestimated?""I don't pretend to say.When she arrived in Rome, I found I did n't care for her, and I honestly proposed that we should have no humbug about it.
If you, on the contrary, thought there was something to be gained by having a little humbug, I was willing to try it! I don't see that the situation is really changed.Mary Garland is all that she ever was--more than all.But I don't care for her! I don't care for anything, and I don't find myself inspired to make an exception in her favor.
The only difference is that I don't care now, whether I care for her or not.
Of course, marrying such a useless lout as I am is out of the question for any woman, and I should pay Miss Garland a poor compliment to assume that she is in a hurry to celebrate our nuptials.""Oh, you 're in love!" said Rowland, not very logically.
It must be confessed, at any cost, that this assertion was made for the sole purpose of hearing Roderick deny it.
But it quite failed of its aim.Roderick gave a liberal shrug of his shoulders and an irresponsible toss of his head.
"Call it what you please! I am past caring for names."Rowland had not only been illogical, he had also been slightly disingenuous.
He did not believe that his companion was in love; he had argued the false to learn the true.The true was that Roderick was again, in some degree, under a charm, and that he found a healing virtue in Mary's presence, indisposed though he was to admit it.He had said, shortly before, that her voice was sweet to his ear; and this was a promising beginning.
If her voice was sweet it was probable that her glance was not amiss, that her touch had a quiet magic, and that her whole personal presence had learned the art of not being irritating.So Rowland reasoned, and invested Mary Garland with a still finer loveliness.