“Europe was terribly far off in those days, and Alice knew at once what
I meant. She didn’t take it in the least as I’d expected--it would have
been easier if she had. She held her book very tight, and turned away a
moment to wind up the lamp on my desk--it had a ground glass shade with
vine leaves, and glass drops around the edge, I remember. Then she came
back, held out her hand, and said: ‘Good-bye.’ And as she said it she
looked straight at me and kissed me. I had never felt anything as fresh
and shy and brave as her kiss. It was worse than any reproach, and it
made me ashamed to deserve a reproach from her. I said to myself: ‘I’ll
marry her, and when my aunt dies she’ll leave us this house, and I’ll
sit here at the desk and go on with my book; and Alice will sit over
there with her embroidery and look at me as she’s looking now. And life
will go on like that for any number of years.’ The prospect frightened
me a little, but at the time it didn’t frighten me as much as doing
anything to hurt her; and ten minutes later she had my seal ring on my
finger, and my promise that when I went abroad she should go with me.
“You’ll wonder why I’m enlarging on this familiar incident. It’s because
the evening on which it took place was the very evening on which I
first saw the queer sight I’ve spoken of. Being at that time an ardent
believer in a necessary sequence between cause and effect I naturally
tried to trace some kind of link between what had just happened to me in
my aunt’s library, and what was to happen a few hours later on the same
night; and so the coincidence between the two events always remained in
my mind.
“I went up to bed with rather a heavy heart, for I was bowed under the
weight of the first good action I had ever consciously committed; and
young as I was, I saw the gravity of my situation. Don’t imagine from
this that I had hitherto been an instrument of destruction. I had been
merely a harmless young man, who had followed his bent and declined all
collaboration with Providence. Now I had suddenly undertaken to promote
the moral order of the world, and I felt a good deal like the trustful
spectator who has given his gold watch to the conjurer, and doesn’t know
in what shape he’ll get it back when the trick is over ... Still, a
glow of self-righteousness tempered my fears, and I said to myself as I
undressed that when I’d got used to being good it probably wouldn’t make
me as nervous as it did at the start. And by the time I was in bed, and
had blown out my candle, I felt that I really _was_ getting used to it,
and that, as far as I’d got, it was not unlike sinking down into one of
my aunt’s very softest wool mattresses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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