“I, for one. You know nothing of love, though you may flatter yourself you do. So far, it has been pretty play enough, but I will not have you waste yourself, or your time. You need inspiration, this will give it you. At your age, it is easy to love the first sweet woman brought near you, and almost impossible for any such to resist your wooing. An early marriage will not only give heart and brain a fillip, but add the new touch of romance needed to keep up the world’s interest in the rising star, whose mysterious advent piques curiosity as strongly as his work excites wonder and delight.”
Composure and content had been gradually creeping back into the listener’s mien, as a skilful hand touched the various chords that vibrated most tunefully in a young, imaginative, ardent nature. Vivid fancy painted the “sweet woman” in a breath, quick wit saw at once the worldly wisdom of the advice, and ambition found no obstacle impassable.
“You are right, sir, I submit; but I claim the privilege of choosing my inspirer,” he said, warily.
“You have already chosen, if I am not much mistaken. A short wooing, but a sure one; for little Gladys has no coquetry, and will not keep you waiting for her answer.”
“Gladys is a child,” began Canaris, still hesitating to avow the truth.
“The fitter mate for you.”
“But, sir, you are mistaken: I do not love her.”
“Then, why teach her to love you?”
“I have not: I was only kind. Surely I cannot be expected to marry every young girl who blushes when I look at her,” he said, with sullen petulance, for women had spoilt the handsome youth, and he was as ungrateful as such idols usually are.
“Then, who?—ah! I perceive; I had forgotten that a boy’s first tendresse is too often for a woman twice his age. May I trouble you?” and Helwyze held up the empty glass with which he had been toying while he talked.