CHAPTER XVIII.
“If we do meet again, why, we shall smile;
If not, why then this parting was well made.”
Shakspeare.
A week is soon gone. This is not mentioned to our readers by way of information, as if any of them should be ignorant of the fact; but by way of directing their minds to a sympathy with Horatio Markham, who found that the last days of his remaining in England were shorter in their duration than any which had preceded them. In spite of all he had said to himself concerning his not being in love, he could not but experience a very painful feeling at the thought that he must soon leave the pleasant party with whom he was so agreeably spending so many of his hours. He could not persuade himself that he was not in love; and the more he said so, the less he believed it. He had taken his leave of his parents and his early friends. He thought it becoming to take a formal leave also of his new friend, Mr. John Martindale; he hesitated whether he should also make a business of taking leave of Colonel Rivolta and his family. He bethought himself that he had in his possession a book belonging to Clara, and that he ought to return it. He might send it, or he might leave it with Mr. Martindale, requesting him to present a message of thanks; and that plan would obviate the inconvenience of personally returning it, in doing which he feared that he might betray some emotion which he would fain conceal. For the truth is, he was of opinion that it would not be a prudent step to declare an attachment at a moment when he was just about to leave England. That would be to involve himself and Clara too in a painful perplexity. There were many changes to be feared during the time of his absence from England. There was a considerate thought that it would be scarcely advisable that he should form an engagement so long before it could be fulfilled; and amidst other ideas which occupied his mind on the subject, was the consideration of theological differences between the parties.
All these things had their weight; but it does not follow that because a young man considers, that he is therefore considerate. Powerful as consideration may be, feeling is much more powerful; and it has also an efficacy in overruling and influencing the decisions of the understanding, and cheating the judgment by a speciousness of reasoning. Thus it was that Markham, with all his sagacity, allowed himself to be imposed on. He reasoned thus:—Perhaps, if I leave England without announcing it to Clara, it may occur to her that I had some very powerful reason for such neglect of common politeness, and there may arise in her mind a suspicion of that which really exists, and then there may be in her mind a corresponding sentiment, which, if not cherished, may die away and be forgotten; and it would not be right for me to arouse such sentiments at such a time. It will be best then if I personally return the book, and very coolly and politely take my leave; yet, upon second thoughts, why should or need there be any thing of coolness in my manner. It will be most suitable to be perfectly uniform, and to take my leave in a friendly, cordial manner, as I have hitherto behaved towards her.
With this resolution he made his last visit, with a view of taking leave of Colonel and Signora Rivolta and of Clara, and of returning with thanks a book which he had borrowed from the latter. Books are very convenient for lovers; they are a species of Cupid’s go-cart; they are the gentle and gradual introduction of sentiment; they speak without blushing; they are fluent in the utterance, and they can tell many a tender tale by a doubled leaf, or a pencil mark; or a rose-leaf may mark an interesting page. When Markham talked to himself about a cool and quiet leave-taking and a friendly farewell, he did not recollect or deeply think of books interchanged, and of beautiful passages marked for their sentiment and pathos, and most peculiarly applicable to peculiar circumstances: he forgot how many striking passages and elegant extracts he had read aloud, and how much force and energy he gave, or attempted to give, to these expressive and select beauties: he forgot how many associations were connected with books. There was also another circumstance which of course did not occur to him. Clara Rivolta was not situated as any young woman of English family and extensive acquaintance; she had not seen much of society; Markham was the only young gentleman with whom she was at all acquainted; and those few other persons whom she had seen did not make any favourable impression on her mind. By comparison therefore with them, Markham was highly agreeable to her, and positively also was he not unacceptable, inasmuch as Clara herself had no slight tincture of what may be called pedantry. Confined intercourse with human society produces, almost of necessity, some degree of pedantry, which is nothing more than an undue estimate of the importance of some one object of human interest or pursuit. Clara had lived secluded, had been much alone, was of a poetical and almost romantic temperament, had contemplated humanity and its interests through the medium of imagination and poetry; she had lived in a world of her own, and the world of reality was to her thought harsh, rough, and ungracious. When therefore she met with Markham, who had also an imagination somewhat poetical, and a decided taste for the lighter and more graceful productions of genius; and when she saw this young gentleman brought into immediate contrast with an uncourteous and rude coxcomb, as he was at the trial, her opinion of him was flattering; and when, after farther acquaintance, she observed that his mind was well-cultivated, his manners gentle, his deportment essentially and decidedly courteous, and when he had taken great pains to render her well pleased with scenes about her, and to communicate information to her on such topics as she felt interested in, she became more and more pleased with his society, always happy to see him, always happy to hear him, disposed to acquiesce in his judgment, and to be guided by his opinion; and above all, as there was not in her heart any previous attachment, very naturally her affections rested more tenderly on Markham than she was well aware.
If, therefore, Markham had need of management and direction, that he might take his leave of Clara without betraying any undue emotion, so had the young lady also as great need to exercise a commanding discretion on her part. But in this matter the lady was not so well prepared as the gentleman; for the latter was somewhat aware of the state of his own mind, but the former knew not aright the nature of the interest she felt in the company of her kind and intelligent friend. Markham had told Mr. Martindale of the day fixed for his departure, and the old gentleman insisted that he should spend his last day in their company.