Tales and Stories: Now First CollectedShelley, Mary Wollstonecraft
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Tales and Stories: Now First Collected
Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft
English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
In a few weeks he was able to quit his room; but any noise or sudden
sound drove him almost insane. So loud is an Italian’s quietest
movements, that Flora was obliged to prevent the approach of any except
herself; and her soft voice and noiseless footfall were the sweetest
medicine she could administer to her patient. It was painful to her to
be in perpetual attendance on Lorenzo’s rival and foe, but she subdued
her heart to her duty, and custom helped to reconcile her. As he grew
better, she could not help remarking the intelligence of his
countenance, and the kindness and cordiality of his manners. There was
an unobtrusive and delicate attention and care in his intercourse with
her that won her to be pleased. When he conversed, his discourse was
full of entertainment and variety. His memory was well-stored with
numerous _fabliaux_, _novelle_, and romances, which he quickly
discovered to be highly interesting to her, and so contrived to have one
always ready from the exhaustless stock he possessed. These romantic
stories reminded her of the imaginary adventures she had invented, in
solitude and silence, for her brother; and each tale of foreign
countries had a peculiar charm, which animated her face as she listened,
so that Fabian could have gone on for ever, only to mark the varying
expression of her countenance as he proceeded. Yet she acknowledged
these attractions in him as a Catholic nun may the specious virtues of a
heretic; and, while he contrived each day to increase the pleasure she
derived from his society, she satisfied her conscience with regard to
her brother by cherishing in secret a little quiet stock of family hate,
and by throwing over her manners, whenever she could recollect so to do,
a cold and ceremonious tone, which she had the pleasure of seeing vexed
him heartily.
Nearly two months had passed, and he was so well recovered that Flora
began to wonder that he did not return to Siena, and of course to fulfil
her duty by wishing that he should; and yet, while his cheek was sunk
through past sickness, and his elastic step grown slow, she, as a nurse
desirous of completing her good work, felt averse to his entering too
soon on the scene of the busy town and its noisy pleasures. At length,
two or three of his friends having come to see him, he agreed to return
with them to the city. A significant glance which they cast on his young
nurse probably determined him. He parted from her with a grave courtesy
and a profusion of thanks, unlike his usual manner, and rode off without
alluding to any probability of their meeting again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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