Scheherazade: a London night's entertainmentWarden, Florence
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Scheherazade: a London night's entertainment
Warden, Florence
English fiction -- 19th century
“Wonder if he’s going off his head!” he thought with sorrowful
concern. “And it’s taking the form of antipathy to women. First Nouna;
then Sundran; last of all this Chloris White! Poor old chap! Poor dear
old chap! that comes of marrying Lady Florencecourt; or perhaps his
marriage was the first sign of it.”
And George, trying in vain to account in any other way for the strange
behaviour of his friend, went home to renewed raptures over his own
happier choice.
CHAPTER XVIII.
George Lauriston’s gloomy forebodings at the entire change in their
manner of life brought about by Nouna’s becoming a comparatively rich
woman, were not, in the first few weeks at least, fulfilled. The new
way of living pleased the volatile child-woman much better than the
old; and as she was never happy or miserable by halves, her joy in her
good fortune was so strong as to be infectious; it was impossible to
live in the neighbourhood of her full sensuous delight in existence
without catching some of its radiance; and George, while ashamed of
the weakness which made him take the colour of his life from hers,
when he had meant in the most orthodox way to make her tastes and
feelings accord with his own, found a fierce and ever-strengthening
pleasure in the intoxicating love-draughts his passion afforded him,
until his ambition, which perhaps had been none of the highest, began
to sleep, and thought and principle to grow languid under the
enervating influence of the question: What good in heaven or earth is
worth the striving for, when this, the most absorbing soul or sense
can imagine, is close to my hand, at my lips? And so, as in all
encounters of the affections, the greater love was at the mercy of the
less; and George, telling himself that time and experience would
develop in her all those other qualities which his own efforts had
failed to draw out, but which, being part of his conception of the
ideal woman, must lie dormant somewhere in the queen of his heart,
gave himself up to adoration of those excellences in her which had
been already demonstrated; and they lived through those hot summer
weeks in happiness, which caused the one first awake in the morning to
touch the other softly, doubtingly, to make sure that their life of
dream-like joy was a reality still.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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