Love stories; New York (N.Y.) -- History -- 1775-1865 -- Fiction
"You must not make yourself a town's talk, John. Just now New York is
all for lovers. If you interfere between Hyde and Cornelia while it is
in this temper, every one will cry out, 'Oh, the pity of it!' and you
will be bayed into doing some mad thing or other. Do I not know you,
dear one?"
"God's precious!" and he took her in his arms, saying, "the man who
learns nothing from his wife will never learn anything from anybody.
Come, then, and we will eat our meal. I had forgotten Rem, and as you
say, Hyde may have to go to England to-morrow; putting-off has broken
up many an ill marriage."
"Time and absence against any love affair that is not destiny! And if
it be destiny, there is only submission, nothing else. But life has a
'maybe' in everything dear; a maybe that is just as likely to please us
as not."
Then Doctor John looked up with a smile. "You are right, Ava," he said
cheerfully. "I will take the maybe. Maybes have a deal to do with life.
When you come to think of it, there is not a victory of any kind
gained, nor a good deed done except on a maybe. So maybe all I fear may
pass like a summer cloud. Yet, take my word for it, there is, I think,
no maybe in Rem's chances with Cornelia."
"We shall see. I think there is."
Certainly Rem was of this opinion. The past few weeks had been very
favourable to him. In them he had been continually associated with
Cornelia, and her manner towards him had been so frankly kind and
familiar, so confidential and sympathetic, that he could not help but
contrast it with their previous intercourse, when she had appeared to
withdraw herself from all his approaches and to forbid by her retiring
manner even the courtesies to which his long acquaintance with her
entitled him.
If he had known more of women he would not have given himself any hope
on this change of attitude. It simply meant that Cornelia had arrived
at that certainty with regard to her own affections which permitted her
a more general latitude. She knew that she loved Hyde, and she knew
that Hyde loved her. They had a most complete confidence in each other;
and she was not afraid, either for his sake or her own, to give to Rem
that friendship which the circumstances warranted. That this friendship
could ever grow to love on her part was an impossible thing; and if she
thought of Rem's feelings, it was to suppose that he must understand
this position as well as she did herself.
Rem, however, was quite aware of his rival, and with the blunt
directness of his nature watched with jealous dislike, and often with
rude impatience, the familiar intercourse which his aunt's partiality
permitted Hyde. He was, indeed, often so rude that a less
sweet-tempered, a less just youth than George Hyde would have pointedly
resented many offences that he passed by with that "noble not caring"
which is often the truest courage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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