"You don't take nature, especially woman-nature, into consideration at
all. I am not congenial to Miss Wildmere; she does not like me. It
is nothing against her, but some people are antagonistic. This is
especially true among women, and in this case it is not strange. Our
experiences have been very different. She has ever been a beautiful,
brilliant society-girl. With her at your side you would always be
an object of envy in circles congenial to you, for admiration would
follow her as the light follows day. In the past, you know, I have
not been influenced by society considerations, and in the future they
shall be very secondary. Therefore we of necessity are unlike, and
could never be much company for each other. There is never any use
in trying to ignore the old law of 'like unto like.' I say this in
explanation of what you know is true all the world over. Even
the close ties of kindred often count for little where tastes,
occupations, and habits of thought are diverse. All this is nothing
against your perfect right to please yourself. In this land, thank
Heaven! families and friends cannot yoke people together to pull
forward general and miscellaneous interests."
"You speak as if it were a slight thing when the woman whom a man
marries is merely accepted, tolerated, by his kindred."
"I have not said that, Graydon; I have only said again what I said
before--that a man has a right to please himself. The truth is trite
enough; why recur to it?"
"Gravitation is trite enough, but it often has an acute bearing on
one's experience. You do not like Stella--"
"And she does not like me."
"Very well; but you try to be just to her, and when she has lived a
while in different associations you will find her greatly changed.
I think you can be her close friend in the future. But Henry detests
her, and he is so quietly and obstinately tenacious in his views that
the fact annoys me exceedingly."
"Very well; you can't help that. You will live in different houses,
and your domestic life will be quite removed from business interests."
"Oh, confound Henry! He married to suit himself, so shall I. But,
Madge, dear Madge, you will try to love her--to help her to be more
like you, for my sake?"
At last Madge's laugh rang out merrily. "For mercy's sake, Graydon,
don't ask me to be a missionary to your wife," she cried. "If I
escaped with my eyes I should be lucky. You must think your wife
perfection, and make her think you do. Woe be unto you if you
introduce a female friend and suggest that she should be imitated,
even to the arch of an eyebrow. Oh, no, I thank you! That's a sphere
in which I shouldn't shine at all, and I wouldn't dare attempt it with
any feminine saint in the calendar. Oh, Graydon, what a dear old goose
you are!" and she laughed till the tears came into her eyes. He joined
her in a half vexed way, protesting that she was still as uncanny as a
ghost, although she had lost the aspect of one.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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