VII.
I had done nothing of late—nothing, although I had toiled incessantly; for I did not dignify with the name of "work" the soulless mechanical drudgery which had kept me from home during the past months. My spirit had grovelled in a state of prostration, stripped of its wings and its wand of power. I now knelt and cried: "Give, oh, give me back my creative impulse!"
I had never since looked at the beloved sketch. I longed now to draw it forth, and commence the picture while I stayed at home. But Hessie shuddered when I spoke of it, and looked so terrified, pleading that she could not stand for me, that I gave up the idea for the time. I thought she had distressing memories connected with it, and I tried to rid her of them by speaking cheerfully of how successful I expected the picture to be, and what pleasure we should have in working at it. I regretted bitterly that I had not commenced it long before, just after I had made the sketch. I should then, perhaps, have had it finished in time for the Exhibition drawing near. But that was impossible now. I must wait in patience for another year. I did not at that time even look between the leaves of the portfolio. Though I thought it right to talk briskly and cheerily about it for both our sakes, I had sickening associations with that work of my short, brilliant day of happiness which Hessie, with all her childish grieving, could hardly have comprehended.
I allowed some time to pass, and at last I thought Hessie's whim had been indulged long enough. She must learn how to meet a shock and outlive it. I did not like the idea of having ghosts in the house— skeletons of unhealthy sentiment hidden away in unapproachable chambers. The shadow should be hunted from its corner into the light. The sketch must grow into a picture, which a new aspect of things must despoil of all stinging associations.
I went to seek the sketch; but the sketch was gone. I sought it in every part of the house; but to no purpose. It had quite disappeared. I mentioned the strange circumstance to my mother in Hessie's presence, and Hessie suddenly left the room. Then it struck me for the first time that my sister had either destroyed it (which I could hardly believe), or that some accident had happened to it in her hands. I observed that she never alluded to it, never inquired if I had found it. I did not question her about it. Indeed I felt too much vexed to speak of it. I grieved more for its loss than I had believed it remained in me to grieve at any fresh trial. I loved it as we do love the creation on which we have lavished the most precious riches of our mind, on which we have spent our toil, in which we have conquered difficulty, striven and achieved, struggled and triumphed. I should have loved it all my life, hanging in my own chamber, if no one might ever see it but myself; and borne my [{321}] sorrows with a better spirit, and tasted keener joys, while thanking God that I had been permitted to call it into existence. I gloried too much in the work of my own hands, and I was punished.
Never since have I tasted that vivid sense of delight in any achievement of my own. I have worked as zealously, and more successfully, but it has been with a humbler heart. And looking backward, I now believe that it was my inner happiness which haloed my creation with a beauty that was half in my own glad eyes.