“I am not so sure of that,” said Mr. Carlisle, putting down the wine-glass. “There are some things harder to overcome than Philistines, and some citadels so strong as to bid defiance to Samson, even in the full glory of his wavy curls. What chance is there, then, for him now, cruel Dalila?”
Assunta wilfully misunderstood him, and, taking her work from her pretty basket, she answered, laughing:
“Well, one thing is very certain: your illness has not left you in the least subdued. Clara and I must begin a course of discipline, or by the time your brown curls have attained their usual length you will have become a regular tyrant.”
“Give me your work, petite,” said Mr. Carlisle, gently disengaging it from her hand. “I want this morning all to myself. And please do not mention Clara again. I cannot hear her name without thinking of that miserable Sinclair business. It is well for him that I am as I am, until I have had time to cool. I am not very patient, and I have an irresistible longing to give him a horse-whipping. It is a singular psychological fact that Clara has been gifted with every womanly attraction but common sense. But I believe that even you Catholics allow to benighted heretics the plea of invincible ignorance as an escape from condemnation; so we must not be too severe in our judgment of my foolish sister.”
“Hardly a parallel case,” said Assunta, smiling.
“I grant it,” replied her guardian; “for in my illustration the acceptance of the plea, so you hold, renders happiness possible to the heretic, to whom a ‘little knowledge’ would have been so ‘dangerous a thing’ as to lose him even a chance among the elect; whereas Clara's invincible ignorance of the world, of human nature, and in particular of the nature of George Sinclair, serves only to explain her folly, but does not prevent the inevitable evil consequences of such a marriage. But enough of the subject. Will you not read to me a little while? Get Mrs. Browning, and let us have ‘Lady Geraldine,’ if you will so far compassionate a man as to make him forget that he is at sword's points with himself and all the world, the exception being his fair consoler. Thank you, petite,” he continued, as Assunta brought the book. “There is plenty of trash and an incomprehensible expression or two in the poem; but, as a whole, I like it, and the end, the vision, would redeem it, were it ten times as bad. Well, I too have had a vision! Do you know, Assunta, that the only thing I can recall of those weeks of illness is your dear form flitting in and out of the darkness? But—may I dare say it?—the vision had in it a certain tenderness I do not find [pg 236] in the reality. I could almost believe in your doctrine of guardian angels, having myself experienced what their ministry might be.”
“I am afraid,” interrupted Assunta, “that your doctrine would hardly stand, if it has no other basis than such very human evidence. Shall I begin?”
“No, wait a minute longer,” said Mr. Carlisle. “ ‘Lady Geraldine’ will keep. I wish to put a question to your sense of justice. When I was sick, and almost unconscious, and entirely unappreciative, there was a person—so the doctor tells me—who lavished attentions upon me, counted nothing too great a sacrifice to be wasted upon me. But now that I am myself again, and longing to prove myself the most grateful of men, on the principle that ‘gratitude is a lively sense of favors to come,’ that person suddenly retires into the solitude of her own original indifference (to misquote somewhat grandiloquently), and leaves me wondering on what hidden rock my bark struck when I thought the sea all smooth and shining, shivering my reanimated hopes to atoms. But,” he added, turning abruptly towards her, and taking in his the hand which rested on the table beside him, “you saved my life. Bless you, child, and remember that the life you have saved is yours, now and always.”
The color had rushed painfully into Assunta's face, but her guardian instantly released her hand, and she answered quietly:
“It really troubles me, Mr. Carlisle, that you should attach so much importance to a mere service of duty and common humanity. I did no more than any friend so situated would have had a right to claim at my hands. Your thanks have far outweighed your indebtedness.”