I answered in the negative.
“Oh, then,” she continued, “he will be here immediately when he knows of your arrival, for he is anxious, I know, to see you; he is somewhere in the house, amusing himself with his violin. But pray, Mr. Gernon, be seated,” she continued, “and tell me how you like India, now that you have seen a little more of it.”
“I like it much,” I replied, “and never was happier in my life. I have got my commission, and as soon as posted to a regiment, am off to the Upper Provinces by water. I have some idea of applying for a particular corps, but have not yet decided on that point: they say you should not interfere with the operations of the Fates, but leave yourself to their direction. What, madam,” continued I, “would you advise me to do?”
“Oh! really,” said Mrs. Delaval, smiling at the idea of my asking her advice on such a point, “I fear I am incompetent to advise you, not knowing all the circumstances of your position; you ought, of course, to consider well before you act, and having so done, leave the result to Providence. I am, however,” said she, somewhat seriously, “a decided predestinarian, and believe that
‘There is a providence that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.’”
“It is a puzzling subject,” said I, “and one that is rather beyond me; one if I remember rightly, that even bewildered the devils in Pandemonium. However, I think the safest maxim to hold by is, that ‘conduct is fate.’”
This was rather a philosophical opinion for a griffin, but one which I have always held, though young blood at that time and since has often capsized the philosopher.
“Well, Mr. Gernon,” continued she, “you have my best wishes for your happiness and success in life; all is couleur de rose with you now; may it ever so continue! Already,” said she, and the tear glistened, “the clouds of life are beginning to pass over me.”
As she said this, she crossed her fair white hands on her lap, and the widow’s eyes sadly dropped on her wedding ring, the little golden circlet type of eternal fidelity. I understood it, and was silent. Silence is preferable on such occasions, perhaps, to the commonplaces of condolence. We both continued mute for some moments; she looking at her ring, I out of the window.