Christian fiction; Scotland -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
It was to no presentableness of person, however, any more than to
previous acquaintance, that Tom now owed his admittance. True, he had
been to Durnmelling not unfrequently, but that was in the other world
of the country, and even there Hesper had taken no interest in the
self-satisfied though not ill-bred youth who went galloping about the
country, showing off to rustic girls. It was merely, as I have said,
that she could no longer endure a _tete-a-tete_ with one she knew so
little as herself, and whose acquaintance she was so little desirous of
cultivating.
Tom had been to a small party at the house a few evenings before,
brought thither by the well-known leader of a certain literary clique,
who, in return for homage, not seldom, took younger aspirants under a
wing destined never to be itself more than half-fledged. It was,
notwithstanding, broad enough already so to cover Tom with its shadow
that under it he was able to creep into several houses of a sort of
distinction, and among them into Mrs. Redmain's.
Nothing of less potency than the presumption attendant on
self-satisfaction could have emboldened him to call thus early, and
that in the hope not merely of finding Mrs. Redmain at home, but of
finding her alone; and, with the not unusual reward of unworthy daring,
he had succeeded. He was ambitious of making himself acceptable to
ladies of social influence, and of being known to stand well with such.
In the case of Mrs. Redmain he was the more anxious, because she had
not received him on any footing of former acquaintance.
At the gathering to which I have referred, a certain song was sung by a
lady, not without previous manoeuvre on the part of Tom, with which
Mrs. Redmain had languidly expressed herself pleased; that song he had
now brought her--for, concerning words and music both, he might have
said with Touchstone, "An ill-favored thing, but mine own." He did not
quote Touchstone because he believed both words and music
superexcellent, the former being in truth not quite bad, and the latter
nearly as good. Appreciation was the very hunger of Tom's small life,
and here was a chance!
"I ought to apologize," he said, airily, "and I will, if you will allow
me."
Mrs. Redmain said nothing, only waited with her eyes. They were calm,
reposeful eyes, not fixed, scarcely lying upon Tom. It was chilling,
but he was not easily chilled when self was in the question--as it
generally was with Tom. He felt, however, that he must talk or be lost.
"I have taken the liberty," he said, "of bringing you the song I had
the pleasure--a greater pleasure than you will readily imagine--of
hearing you admire the other evening."
"I forget," said Hesper.
"I would not have ventured," continued Tom, "had it not happened that
both air and words were my own."
"Ah!--indeed!--I did not know you were a poet, Mr.--"
She had forgotten his name.
"That or nothing," answered Tom, boldly.
"And a musician, too?"
"At your service, Mrs. Redmain."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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