Tales of My Time, Vol. 1 (of 3): Who Is She?Scargill, William Pitt
General
Tales of My Time, Vol. 1 (of 3): Who Is She?
Scargill, William Pitt
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Zorilda drew back, surprised in her turn by the changes which time had
wrought. Algernon was a perfect model of manly grace, and all the easy
elegance and polish of fashionable society were added to the native
symmetry which distinguished his appearance. A reproachful call from
Mrs. Hartland, quickly interrupted this short-lived transport of
uncertain bliss. Alas! it was never to return. Zorilda loved, and was
beloved; but, she knew not why, she had not the same pleasure which she
formerly felt in Algernon's company. There was a fire in his manner of
looking at her, and a bold familiarity in his mode of address, which
discomposed her, and made her desire to shrink into herself, without
being able to explain to her own breast the reason why she did so.
While he was summoned to hear the story of his altered fortunes, she
threw herself, exhausted by the variety of her emotions, into a chair
near a window, that opened on a trellised alcove, which she had
carefully entwined with every sweet climber that perfumes the garden,
to breathe a welcome for him she loved. Bursting into an agony of
tears, she looked upon her work and exclaimed:
"Flowers! you have lost your fragrance. The simple joys of nature are
no longer here. They are become 'dim recollected feelings of the days
of youth and early love.' Dreamer! thy doom is sealed! What has Zorilda
in common with the world's attractions? Algernon is lost to me! Yes,
these are not the looks of Algernon! Why do I turn abashed from the
companion of my childhood?"
Zorilda's meditations were interrupted by a summons from Mr. Hartland,
who informed her that he must leave Henbury early on the following day,
and desired to commit several matters of importance to her care during
his absence. Dinner succeeded, and the evening was chiefly occupied in
preparations of one kind or other for the ensuing journey; but
notwithstanding the vigilance of Mrs. Hartland, and her constant
endeavour to monopolize her son, he found opportunity from time to
time, to say a few words in secret to Zorilda.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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