I
Confusion bore her violently out under the open sky. From her favourite
perch in the rocks the sea stretched wide and dreaming, exquisite in the
light of late afternoon.
At first Stella carried on the mood of this new rebellion. Did he expect
her to settle down on this lonely island like a dull little mouse and
meekly take whatever came to her, without comment or protest? Was this
the outcome of so many romantic impulses all giving his princely word
free rein?
It had seemed right and warmly within the picture that her prince
should wave his sceptre over her destiny, just as in some tale of rich
enchantment.... However, these were days of pause; and there were points
in the process of working out which seemed, despite the office of rosy
spectacles, not altogether ideal.
Her mind groped and rambled afield. Jerome’s transgressions, though dire,
had been all in the opposite direction. She thought of Elsa—how Elsa had
dealt out caution over the teacups. “You seem to be quite hypnotized,”
she had said, with drooping, disillusioned eyes. What would Elsa say now?
“If she were only here!” Stella longed for some one with whom all these
complex issues might be discussed; and again she felt vaguely unequipped.
But being so alone, she grappled with her life as best she could, though
nothing seemed very clear.
As her anger cooled, Stella felt she had let herself go too
far—regretted, in due time, having stood out at all. What made her
attitude hardest now to defend was the fact that Ferdinand’s whole idea
seemed to be to make things easier for her. Perhaps there might even be
something in what he said about the need of keeping the Ainu impressed.
It was dim and not a little terrifying. And certainly he was right in
suggesting the world’s amazement at such opposition as she had brought to
bear. Analysis in good time brought a faint smile even, for, though it
might not be salient, she really did possess a sense of humour.