Love stories; Nobility -- Great Britain -- Fiction; Switzerland -- Fiction
Godfrey, as it chanced, omitting Isobel, had walked little even in these
sweet shadows. There were but three others for whom he had felt
devotion in all his days, Mrs. Parsons, his tutor, Monsieur Boiset, and
his friend, Arthur Thorburn, who was gone. Therefore to him Isobel was
everything. As a child he had adored her; as a woman she was his
desire, his faith and his worship.
If this were so with him, still more was it the case with Isobel, who in
truth cared for no other human being. Something in her nature prevented
her from contracting violent female friendships, and to all men, except
a few of ability, each of them old enough to be her father, she was
totally indifferent; indeed most of them repelled her. On Godfrey, and
Godfrey alone, from the first moment she saw him as a child she had
poured all the deep treasure of her heart. He was at once her divinity
and her other self, the segment that completed her life’s circle,
without which it was nothing but a useless, broken ring.
So much did this seem to her to be so, that notwithstanding her lack of
faith in matters beyond proof and knowledge, she never conceived of
this passion of hers as having had a beginning, or of being capable of
an end. This contradictory woman would argue against the possibility of
any future existence, yet she was quite certain that her love for
Godfrey _had_ a future existence, and indeed one that was endless. When
at length he put it to her that her attitude was most illogical, since
that which was dead and dissolved could not exist in any place or
shape, she thought for a while and replied quietly:
“Then I must be wrong.”
“Wrong in what?” asked Godfrey.
“In supposing that we do not live after death. The continuance of our
love I _know_ to be beyond any doubt, and if it involves our continuance
as individual entities—well, then we continue, that is all.”
“We might continue as a single entity,” he suggested.
“Perhaps,” she answered, “and if so this would be better
still, for it must be impossible to lose one another while that remained
alive, comprising both.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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