It was a Lover and His LassOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
It was a Lover and His Lass
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Scotland -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Lewis scarcely heard these remarks; his whole being was in a ferment.
Up to this moment it had not occurred to him what was the natural way
in which to regard this new apparition which had come into his life.
He had been wooing (so to speak) her sister, the old sister who was
as a mother to Lilias, when this wonder appeared to him, and it was
not that his mind changed about Miss Jean, but only that something
entirely new and extraordinary burst upon him, something he had never
dreamt of before. His words, his thoughts, the very action of his mind
was arrested. He had no longer the power of fixing upon that project
or any other, his mind being entirely engrossed and occupied by the
new thing presented to it. But his feelings had been entirely those
of joy and delight in his discovery. It was something that lighted
up the earth and made the whole world more sweet; but it had not yet
occurred to him to appropriate this lovely creature to himself, or to
make her the centre of his individual enjoyment. Now there burst upon
him another revelation, something of an entirely different nature.
That she was sweet, but not for him; that her beauty was not intended
only to make the whole world happier, but to be a special fountain of
joy to one, but that not himself, but some one else. Lewis did not
himself understand, in the rush and hurry of his feelings, what was
the sentiment which succeeded that vague sensation of happiness in his
mind. But he understood that in a moment the minister whom he had been
accompanying with so much friendliness on the way became intolerable,
and that the very sound of his voice was irritating, and not to be
borne. For the sake of appearances he went on with him to a cross-road
which they were approaching, that led Lewis did not know whither; but
anything was better than to go on with so heartless a companion. He
broke off abruptly when he came to this unknown path, saying something
about letters to write, and the necessity of getting back to his inn.
"You'll not get back to your inn that way," Mr. Seton said; but Lewis
paid no attention, indeed scarcely heard him as he hurried on.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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