England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
new sweet habit gave him a little strength to meet the chaos into which
his life otherwise was thrown. Did not Dante, too, get a little comfort
from the sweet looks of that sympathising woman who used to glance at
him from her window after the lady of his heart was carried by the
angels to heaven? There was no wrong to his Annie in that refuge which
kindness made for him from the miseries of the world. Eventually it
became a matter of course that he should seek that shelter. He went out
of his own house and knocked at her door mechanically, and would sit by
her, content only to be there, often saying little, getting himself
softly healed and soothed, and made capable of taking up again the
burden of his life. She was not the same kind of woman as his wife--her
habits of mind were different. The variety, the fluctuating charm, the
constant movement and change that were in Mrs. Beresford did not exist
in this other. She would sit and work by the lamplight, looking up
sweetly to answer, but happy to be silent if her companion liked it. She
made herself always the second and not the first, responding, not
leading; her gift was to divine what was in others, to follow where they
went. It was this that made her so popular with all her friends. When
they came to her for advice she would give it without that doubt and
fear of responsibility which restrains so many people. For why? she had
a rule which was infallible, and which made her safe from
responsibility, although she was not herself aware how closely she acted
upon it. Her infallible guide was a faculty of seeing what people
themselves wished, how their own judgments were tending, and what
individually they wanted to do. This she followed sometimes
consciously, but often quite unconsciously, as habit led her, and she
was never afraid of saying Do this, or Do that. It was one of her great
attractions. She might be wise or she might be less than wise, in her
decisions, her friends said, but she never shilly-shallied, never was
afraid of saying to you with sweet frankness and boldness what she
thought it would be good to do.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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