Kissing the Rod: A Novel. (Vol. 1 of 3)Yates, Edmund
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Kissing the Rod: A Novel. (Vol. 1 of 3)
Yates, Edmund
England -- Fiction
So Miss Guyon talked to Gordon Frere, and played for his delectation,
and quoted poetry to him, and made herself most agreeable; and his
stay prolonged itself much beyond the customary limits of a morning
visit; and yet she never felt that this was any thing unusual, or was
conscious that her self-possession was beyond that of other girls, or
her manner more assured than theirs. She never thought about it at
all; she enjoyed the present time and the young man's society; she
accredited him with all sorts of social talents and bright congenial
tastes; and no suspicion ever occurred to her that he was merely
reflecting some of her own readiness, brilliancy, and versatility. And
Gordon Frere, was not "he too in Arcadia"? Over the girl's whole
bearing an indescribable softness, a winning grace was thrown,--the
subtle, all-powerful charm created by the desire of pleasing; perhaps
the most potent, and frequently the most unconscious, in a woman's
possession. She looked her best, she talked her best, the animation of
her manner never passing the bounds of perfect refinement, but ever
spontaneous and unsubdued; the simple grace of her figure, the
sensitive beauty of her face must have touched and warmed a duller man
than Gordon Frere. There was a delicious flattery in her undisguised
pleasure in his society which he felt with a subtler sense than he had
ever before experienced; for there was no one to share it here. She
was shining, she was sparkling for him alone. This was something
different, something much more delightful than the ride in the Row,
or the dance in the ball-room, to which he was tolerably well
accustomed, and which he might have gone on enjoying for some time
longer without being inspired by the intense admiration which began to
possess him as he looked at her, and listened to her, as he recognised
the genuine charm of her manner, unspoiled by the faintest tinge of
self-consciousness or coquetry.
"Do you know much of the City?" Katharine said, after a slight pause
in their conversation; "do you often go there?"
"No, indeed," said Frere; "I seldom have occasion; and my rambles
eastwards rarely extend beyond the Temple. But why do you ask? Do you
take an interest in the City?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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