American fiction -- 19th century; Artists -- Fiction
"I regret more deeply than you can ever know, Miss Burton, that I
find nothing in my own knowledge or experience to help you. All
I can offer is my honest sympathy, and that you have had from the
first; for from the time of our first meeting the impression has
been growing upon me that your character had obtained its power
and beauty through some deep and sorrowful experience. But while
I am unable to give you any help, perhaps I can suggest a pleasant
thought from your own illustration. The black clouds yonder which
seem to you a true type of the shadows that have fallen across
your path, are, after all, but a film in the sky. The sun, and a
multitude of other luminous worlds, are shining beyond them in the
heavens. I would I had your chances of reaching a 'happier shore.'"
"That's a pretty sentiment," she said, shaking her head slowly;
"but those luminous worlds are a great way off, with cold and vast
reaches of space between them. Besides, a luminous world would
not do me one bit of good. I want---" she stopped abruptly with
something like a low sob. "There, there," she resumed hastily
dashing away a few tears. "I have occupied your thoughts too long
with my forlorn little self. I did not mean to show this weakness,
but have been betrayed into doing os, I think, because you impressed
me as being honest, and I thought that perhaps--perhaps your man's
reason might have thought of some argument or probably conjecture
relating to the subject that, for causes obvious to you, would be
naturally interesting to one so alone in the world as I am."
"I am sorry indeed that I never used my reason to so good a purpose,"
he replied; "and yet, as I said at first, these subjects have ever
seemed to me so above and beyond my reason that I have carelessly
given them the go-by. My profession has wholly absorbed me since
I have been capable of anything worth the name of thought, and the
world, toward which your mind is turning, is so large and vague
that I cannot even follow you, much less guide."
She sighed: "It is indeed 'large and vague.'" Then she added in
firm, quiet tones: "Mr. Van Berg, please forget what I have said.
The weak must show their weakness at times in spite of themselves,
and your kindness and sincerity have beguiled me into inflicting
myself upon you."
"You ask that which is impossible, Miss Burton," he replied earnestly.
"I cannot forget what you have said, nor do I wish to. I need not
assure you, however, that I regard your confidence as sacred as if
it came from my own sister. Will you also let me say that I never
felt so honored before in my life as I have to-night, in the fact
that I seemed to your woman's intuition worthy of your trust."
They were now turned towards the light that streamed dimly from
one of the windows. She looked up at him with a bright, grateful
smile, but she apparently saw something in his eager face and manner
which checked her smile as suddenly as if he had been an apparition.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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