“There is no one who can do that as Abram does,” she said with admiration. “He is splendid, isn’t he, Andrew? Abram, Abram!” called Launa. “Take me up to the end of the lake!”
He brought the canoe in again, and she took her paddle and knelt in the bow. They went off together, her firm figure, with its graceful arm movement, erect, muscular, and supple. Oh! the joy of those days! The joy of living and of doing! The rapid, firm strokes, and the movement!
Launa paid her visit to the opera house in New York, whither her father took her with Miss Black for a winter, and then her dreams were realised. She heard the “Nibelungenlied,” “The Meistersinger,” “Tannhauser,” besides selections from “Parsifal”; she also attended numerous concerts. Music took the place of her out-of-door life, and she became so absorbed in it that she only occasionally missed and regretted her former wanderings. It was as if she had experienced its wonderful power for the first time, and drank from a cup of intoxicating sweetness.
She went to dances, and discovered that men found her attractive, and naturally she soon learned how to make herself agreeable. At the same time she realised that most men love a woman for her bodily charm.
“Men are very animalish, Whitey,” said Launa one day, after having made a successful appearance at an evening reception.
Miss Black gasped. She had ignored the existence of men as lovers, except in history and in books, while teaching Launa.
“All men are not alike,” she said vaguely.
“No, of course not. Father is perfect. Few men are like him.”
When they returned to “Solitude,” Launa worked with renewed ardour, and practised with joy—she wanted to play well. She read all sorts of books, and after a course of lectures on Greek literature, she turned with avidity to Plato, to Epictetus. Of German books she read many; to Miss Black’s regret she had outgrown Marlitt. For a woman who could do things, who did not fear storm or rain, Miss Black was singularly afraid of the knowledge of good and evil. Evil belonged especially to the poor and low, and to men, who gave it up when they put on dress-clothes, and were in the society of ladies—the humanising influence of ladies! A dress suit was the veneer that completely covered the brute-beast in a man.