“Yes: you shall make me comfortable, if you kindly will; the heat exhausts me, and I cannot sleep. Ah, this is pleasant! You have the gift of piling pillows for weary heads, Gladys. Now, let the moonlight make a picture of you, as it did before I spoilt it; then I shall envy no man.”
Pleased, yet abashed, the girl sank back into her place on the wide window ledge, and bent her face over the blooming linden spray that lay upon her lap, unconsciously making of herself a prettier picture than before.
“Musing here alone? Not sorrowfully, I hope?”
“I never feel alone, sir, and seldom sorrowful.”
“‘They never are alone that are accompanied with noble thoughts;’ yet it would not be unnatural if you felt both sad and solitary, so young, so isolated, in this big, bad world of ours.”
“A beautiful and happy world to me, sir. Even loneliness is pleasant, because with it comes—liberty.”
The last word fell from her lips involuntarily; and, with a wonderfully expressive gesture, she lifted her arms as if some heavy fetter had newly dropped away.
Ardent emphasis and forceful action both surprised and interested Helwyze, confirming his suspicion that this girlish bosom hid a spirit as strong as pure, capable of deep suffering, exquisite happiness, heroic effort. His eye shone, and he gave a satisfied nod; for his first careless words had struck fire from the girl, making his task easier and more attractive.
“And how will you use this freedom? A precious, yet a perilous, gift for such as you.”
“Can any thing so infinitely sweet and sacred be dangerous? He who planted the longing for it here, and gave it me when most needed, will surely teach me how to use it. I have no fear.”