Mrs. MCDUFFER never greatly admired the lady with whom this confession
is concerned. She denies that CECILIA BRAND was pretty, and when I
do not answer (for where is the use of argument in such a case?), she
remarks that I am too short-sighted to know whether a woman is pretty
or not. This appears to myself to be an injudicious assertion, and the
flank of my opponent might be turned if it were worth while. But it is
not worth while. A Duffer I may be, but not such a duffer as to reason
with a woman. If you score a point (and how many times one sees an
opening in the fair one's harness), a woman is angry, or cries, or
both, and there is no repartee to that _ultima ratio_.
[Illustration: "It was while thus engaged that I heard a sound of
female voices."]
I maintain, then, that CECILIA was pretty, and very pretty; pleasant,
and very pleasant. No doubt she keeps those qualities yet. I do not
believe in the syllogism by which a man persuades himself that he was
a fool, that he had a lucky escape, that a girl becomes quite another
person, and usually very stout and stupid, because she has preferred
someone else to himself. No, if we met to-morrow--But Fortune forbid
that we should meet to-morrow, or any other day! I have no relics of
CECILIA. I had some,--an old glove, a lash of a riding-switch, and
other trifles. I kept them in the secret drawer of a bureau, and in
my absence that bureau was traded away for a new æsthetic article,
relics and all, of course. Perhaps some minor poet bought the piece
of furniture, and found the things, and wrote a poem on them. That is
what makes me uncomfortable. If CECILIA sees the poem in one of the
Magazines, and remembers the incidents which the souvenirs recall,
she will certainly not be pleased with me, whether she fancies that I
wrote the poem, or that I forgot all about the treasures, and traded
their receptacle away. Life is really very complicated.
I met CECILIA at a house in the country. We sat next each other at
dinner. I found her charming. We had the same taste in novels,--she
knew Miss AUSTEN almost off by heart, and, like me, she was very fond
of field sports. I flattered myself that she did not find my company
uncongenial. In the evening there was a little dance: I don't dance,
or at least, it was some time since I had danced, not in fact since
the used to make me take dancing lessons at school. How I hated
it! However, this time I thought it seemed very easy and pleasant,
though the floor was extremely polished and slippery, dangerously
so. CECILIA, of course, was my partner. You know how they describe
waltzing in novels, the ecstasy of it, the wild impassioned delight.
Consult GUY LIVINGSTONE and OUIDA. Well, it was not at all like that.
I do not exactly remember what occurred. We started, there was a buzz.
I think there was a collision. I became extremely dizzy.... When
I recovered my senses, it was _not_ to find the dark grey eyes of
CECILIA bending over me with an expression of anxiety. No, she was not
there. I went to bed: I know there was a great contusion on my elbow.
Next morning, it was winter, everyone was going to skate. Now I could
not skate. At school, when there was a skating holiday, I always
passed it beside the fire, which I had all to myself, roasting apples,
and reading _Ivanhoe_. These were among my happiest hours. However,
I did not tell CECILIA that I could not skate. I pretended (it seemed
safe) to be desperately fond of hunting, and to despise skating.
Besides I had work, literary work, I told CECILIA, an article on Miss
AUSTEN. This pleased her, but nobody accepted the article. In fact, I
was bent on secretly learning to skate. I sent to town for a pair of
"Acmes," for I knew I never could manage all the straps and buckles
of the ordinary modern skate. I knew of a pond where nobody came, and
thither, under cover of night, I smuggled a bed-room chair. They say
that pushing a chair in front of you is a good way to learn. My terror
was extreme; it would be awkward to be caught, at a friend's house,
stealing a bed-room chair. That I ventured this risk shows how fond of
CECILIA I was. I reached the pond safely, and hid the chair in a dry
ditch. Next day, when presumed to be engaged on literary labours, I
sneaked back, sat down on my chair, and tried to put on the skates.
It always seemed so easy when one saw an expert do it, like Mercury
donning his winged shoon, and sailing over the ice. But my hands grew
blue as I struggled with the key and the nuts, till I became certain
that my boots were in fault.
There was no help for it, I hid my chair in its ditch, and returned,
to take the village cobbler into my confidence. He, good man, rose
to the situation, and pointed out what I had surmised to be the
case, viz., that the heels of my boots were too long to allow the
chisel-edged flange to be adjusted by the lever, and admit at the same
time of the other end of the heel being gripped by the cramps,--but
he promised to whittle away part of the heel, and send the skates home
without delay: and he was as good as his word.
This time I took the precaution of fitting them on in my room. I
walked about in them, and was happy. Next day I got to work again:
gingerly I brought my chair into action, but I was wholly unprepared
for the extreme slipperiness of the ice, even though forewarned to
some extent by the painful experiences of _Mr. Winkle_. I had read
that the skater "is very highly favoured when contending with the
great enemy of motion, viz., friction," a proposition which I found
to be perfectly true. My legs developed separatist tendencies, and
started on independent orbits. Often I found myself sitting down in
a position affected by acrobats, but unusual in Society. As for the
chair, it would rear and plunge like a horse, or escape across the
ice, where I had to crawl to it on my knees. It was while thus engaged
that I heard a sound of female voices, and, lo! there were CECILIA and
two other girls, who had heard of this pond in the wood, and come to
try it. I presented a singular spectacle, kneeling before a bed-room
chair in the middle of a lonely pond. They laughed, a lover should
never be ridiculous, but how could I help it! I thought it best to
be frank, indeed, what excuse could I make, what explanation could I
offer? In the evening I told CECILIA that I had undergone all this for
her sake; that, expert in other pastimes (except dancing), I had hoped
to make myself more worthy of "figuring" in her society. But, as a
matter of fact, I never got so far as figures.
Next day there was a thaw, and soon I had an opportunity of riding
with CECILIA. It was "The Last Ride Together," as in Mr. BROWNING. I
don't like to speak about it. When we got off the road on to the turf
my horse began to kick and plunge. I have read that it is not right,
but I did what I always do, I held on by the pummel. Would _you_ not
hold on by the carpet, in an earthquake. It felt like a young and
lively earthquake. We came home soon, _CECILIA leading my horse_.
People staying in the house met us.
I did not propose to CECILIA. I thought, like _Sir Andrew Aguecheek_,
"It is four to one she'll none of me." Nay, the odds were probably
even longer. Ah, CECILIA, if these lines meet thine eyes, thou wilt
know that one heart still is true. In another life, less begirt by
material difficulties, we may meet amongst the asphodel, where there
is no opportunity for the display of mere mechanical accomplishments.
Till then, _au revoir_!
* * * * *
APPROPRIATE.--At Nancy, the Maire pledged the Czech gymnasts, in a
goblet of Pommery. Their chief, returning thanks in French, with
a strong Bohemian accent, remarked that he took this as a great
compliment to his own nationality, the champagne being "_très Czech_."
* * * * *
[Illustration: TROP DE ZÈLE.
(_An Aristocratic Tip._)
_The New Companion_ (_fresh from Girtham College_). "YES, LADY JANE,
I SAW _H_ER, WITH _H_ER _H_ABITUAL _H_YPOCRISY _H_OLDING OUT _H_ER
_H_AND TO _H_IS AS _H_E WAS _H_ARANGUING AT _H_IS _H_OTEL--"
_Lady Jane._ "GOOD GRACIOUS, CHILD, DON'T STICK IN YOUR H'S SO
CAREFULLY AS ALL THAT! PEOPLE WILL THINK YOUR FATHER AND MOTHER
DROPPED 'EM, AND THAT YOU'RE TRYIN' TO PICK 'EM UP!" [_And People
wouldn't be very far wrong._]
* * * * *