“Charming! and the fruit baskets on boys’ heads were fetching, my lord. It is the first time I really enjoyed a peach or a bunch of grapes; it reminded me of the Lake of Como on a hot afternoon, lying down on the steps of the Villa Carlotta.”
“Yes, I really thought the whole picture was pleasing in perspective; the women reclined on their black marble couches with more grace than heretofore, which very probably inspired the men to move about more harmoniously.—You see, Dan, Gwendolen never came.”
Danford looked wistfully at his pupil, and imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders.
“Her father, when he came yesterday, told me he had not seen her since the storm. It appears she persists in closeting herself, and refuses to go out. Poor Gwen! It is abnormal, and her brain must give way sooner or later.”
“This is one victim of this new state of nature; there must be some more of these abandoned creatures who lost all joy and sympathy in life when the storm rent them of their clothes;—but as your lordship is aware, this is beyond my power. I have undertaken to show you how to know your friends, in which art you have made wonderful progress;—I only wish my colleagues could say as much of all their pupils.”
“Still, my dear fellow, things are looking brighter; I watched a few groups conversing yesterday, without the assistance of any guides, and Sir Richard Towerbridge actually remembered me five minutes after he had shaken hands with me. But we need more than this, Dick. It is all very well recognising one’s friends, though at present the method of doing so is only empirical; but we long for something more.”
“My lord, how unjust you are. Nothing new! when the Lord Chamberlain has announced through the telephone that no Levees nor any Drawing-rooms will be held during the season!”
“My dear Dan, something is lacking in this new Society. What is it?”
“My lord, the powers of the social guide are very limited; he throws out hints, as the sower throws the seed; after that is the great unknown. I will teach you how to use your eyes, how to move your limbs, how to remember, perhaps how to laugh, perchance how to cry, but I cannot teach you how to love. This is the hidden closet to which we have no key, for the very good reason that the door opens from within. In the silence of the night, in the peace of lovely gardens, when men are far and nature is near, listen to the melody singing from within that secret recess, and open the door. Then maybe you will see what I cannot show you, hear what I cannot make audible.”
“Do not trouble about me, dear fellow; I shall never love any mortal woman!”