“You sigh, and rightly. Mary, it angers me. Man though he is, his rôle is but that of fool,—fool by birth, heritage, and calling. She is as guarded from him as ever was Brunhilde from Siegfried by the ring of fire. He knows it, and she knows it. Yet by the syren song of her she lures him ever nearer. And, if her song continues, one day in madness he will try to pass the barrier of flame. Her song and madness alone will urge him to the attempt. Then the flame will burn him; and I know, yes, I know, she will mock at his wounds.” Low and fierce Brigid spoke the last words.
“You let imagination run away with you. You feel too deeply.” Mary’s words were calm.
Brigid looked straight before her. “Sooner feel too deeply than have a heart of stone. Mary, I’d sooner be dumb than lure men by the syren’s song. I’d sooner be featureless with leprosy than drive men mad by the fairness of my face. She is heartless as a stone image, remorseless as a Medusa, a very vampire to—.” Brigid broke off; a sidelong glance had shown her Mary’s face. “You are shocked? Small wonder. Truth is a very naked lady, and if we drag her from the bottom of her well we should at least garb her in becoming fashion. We will lower her again to the darkness of her well, and herewith change the topic of our discourse. Mark you, how blue the sky is, and look at the white butterfly resting on my anemones yonder. See the quivering of its wings, the darling! ’Tis the first I have seen this year.” Gaiety in every note of the words you could not have imagined the passionate utterance of a moment agone.
Mary was silent, tears not far from her eyes.
“What ails you?” asked Brigid solicitously.
Mary smiled wanly. “I liked not the sight of truth,” she replied.
“Nor I,” averred Brigid. “’Twas ill to drag her from her resting-place. Since she cannot be killed she is best hidden. Let us cry Deo gratias that there is a well wherein to hide her. And you and I will dance and smile at the edge thereof; since, verily, save for that or moping, which is ill, we can do nothing.”
“Nothing,” echoed Mary. “Save pray,” she added a moment later, and below her breath.
Brigid caught the words, and her eyes gave assent thereto, if not her lips.