[Note by Dr. Marmion appended to his MSS.:—“Many of the
conversations and monologues in this history, not heard by myself
when they occurred, were told to me afterwards, or got from the
diaries and notes of the persons concerned. Only a few are purely
imaginary.”]
CHAPTER II. “MOTLEY IS YOUR ONLY WEAR”
I went to my cabin, took a book, sat down, and began to smoke. My thoughts drifted from the book, and then occurred a strange, incongruous thing. It was a remembered incident. It came like a vision as I was lighting a fresh cigar:
A boy and a girl in a village chemist’s shop; he with a boy’s love for her, she responding in terms, but not in fact. He passed near her carrying a measure of sulphuric acid. She put out her hand suddenly and playfully, as though to bar his way. His foot slipped on the oily floor, and the acid spilled on his hands and the skirt of her dress. He turned instantly and plunged his hands into a measure of alcohol standing near before the acid had more than slightly scalded them. She glanced at his startled face; hers was without emotion. She looked down, and said petulantly: “You have spoiled my dress; I cannot go into the street.”
The boy’s clothes were burnt also. He was poor, and to replace them must be a trial to him; her father owned the shop, and was well-to-do. Still, he grieved most that she should be annoyed, though he saw her injustice. But she turned away and left him.
Another scene then crossed the disc of smoke:
The boy and girl, now man and woman, standing alone in the chemist’s shop. He had come out of the big working world, after travel in many countries. His fame had come with him. She was to be married the next day to a seller of purple and fine linen. He was smiling a good-bye, and there was nothing of the old past in the smile. The flame now was in her eyes, and she put out both her hands to stop him as he turned to go; but his face was passionless. “You have spoiled my heart,” she said; “I cannot go into the world so.”
“It is too late; the measures are empty,” he replied.
“I love you to-day, I will loathe you to-morrow,” was the answer.