a face illumined-第48节

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killed　it；　and　was　in　hopes　that　if　I　placed　the　injured　flower　in

water　with　the　others　it　might　still　make　a　partial　bloom。　　You　will

think　me　absurd　when　I　tell　you　I　felt　sorry　for　it；　and　thought

how　many　roses　and　lives　would　be　more　perfect　were　it　not　for　some

gnawing　'worm　i'　the　bud。'〃



〃The　'worm'　in　Shakespeare's　allusion；〃　said　the　artist；　lightly；

〃is　redeemed　by　its　association　and　symbolism；　but　the　one　that

has　been　at　work　here　was　a　disagreeably　prosaic　thing　that　you

rightly　put　your　foot　upon。　　The　bud；　as　it　now　appears；　suggest

the　worm　more　than　anything　else。　　So；　please；　let　me　cut　it　out；

for　art　cannot　tolerate　anything　so　radically　marred　and　defective。

Its　worm…eaten　heart　spoils　the　beauty　of　the　entire　cluster。〃



〃I　fear　you　artists　become　too　critical　and　exacting。　　Well；　cut

it　out。　　I　will　submit　to　art　in　roses；　but　feel　that　marred　and

defective　lives　should　have　very　different　treatment。〃



〃That　depends。　　If　people　persist　in　cherishing　some　worm　of　evil；

they　cannot　expect　to　be　held　in　the　same　esteem　as　those　who　are

aiming　at　a　more　perfect　development。　　There；　now！　does　not　our

cluster　appear　much　better？〃



〃Yes；　and　yet　I　cannot　help　feeling　sorry　for　the　poor　little　bud

that　has　missed　its　one　chance　to　bloom；　and　all　will　wither　unless

I　hasten　to　my　room　and　put　them　in　water。〃



In　her　prejudice　against　Ida　she　had　not　looked　towards　her　while

talking　with　Van　Berg；　but　in　passing；　a　hasty　glance　almost　caused

her　to　stay　and　speak　to　her；　for　she　thought　she　saw　her　eyes

full　of　unshed　tears。　　But　her　glance　was　brief　and　her　prejudice

strong。　　Miss　Burton　had　not　a　little　of　the　wholesome　feminine

intolerance　for　certain　weaknesses　in　her　sex。　　She　would　counsel

a　wife　to　endure　a　bad　husband　with　a　meek　and　patient　spirit。　　But

gentle　as　she　was；　she　would　scorn　the　maiden　who　could　be　attracted

by　a　corrupt　man；　and　almost　loathe　her　for　indulging　in　such

an　affinity。　　She　could　pity　Idashe　could　pity　any　one；　but　the

poor　girl's　unfortunate　association　with　Sibley；　and　her　seeming

interest　in　him；　would　subordinate　pity　to　indignation　and　contempt。

Her　thought　was　this：



〃Miss　Mayhew　is　still　a　maiden　free　to　choose。　　Shame　on　her　that

she　chooses　so　ignobly！　　Shame　on　her　that　she　turns　her　eyes

longingly　to　fetid　pools；　instead　of　upward　to　the　breezy　hills。

What　kind　of　nature　is　that　which　prompts　such　a　choice？〃



The　artist　was　more　capable　of　Jennie　Burton's　indignation　and

contempt　than　of　her　pity；　and　although　he　knew　Ida　still　stood

in　the　doorway　he　did　not　turn　to　speak　to　her。　　His　very　attitude

seemed　to　indicate　to　the　unhappy　girl　a　haughty　indifference；　and

yet　she　was　so　unhappy；　so　in　need　of　a　kind　word　or　reassuring

glance　that　she　could　not　turn　away。



〃What　a　wretched　mystery　it　all　is；〃　she　thought。　　〃I　ought　to　hate；

yet　I　love　him。　　Proud　as　I　have　thought　myself；　I　could　kneel　at

his　feet　for　one　such　word　and　glance　as　he　just　gave　Miss　Burton。

For　contempt　I　return　him　honor　and　admiration。　　I　cannot　help

myself。　　By　some　strange　perversity　of　my　heart；　I　have　become

his　very　slave。　　How　can　he　be　so　blind！　　He　thinks　me　pining　for

a　man　that　I　despise　and　hate　more　than　he　ever　can；　though　the

fellow　attempted　his　life。　　Sibley　has　come　between　me　and　that

which　is　more　than　lifemy　chance　for　happiness　and　right　living。

I　shall　become　desperate　and　bad；　like　him；　if　this　continues。

How　strange　it　is　that　some　sense；　some　instinct　does　not　tell　him

there　that　the　girl　who　stands　so　near　is　lavishing　every　treasure

of　her　soul　upon　him！



〃That　poor　little　rose…bud　represents　me　to　his　mind。　　How　ruthlessly

he　is　pulling　open　its　heart！　　Will　he　see　anything　else　there　save

the　work　of　the　destroyer？　　Can　it　not　awaken　a　thought　of　pity？

I　willI　must　speak　to　him。〃



She　took　a　hesitating　step　or　two　towards　him。　　She　could　almost

hear　her　heart　beat。　　Twice；　thrice；　words　died　upon　her　lips。

When　was　she　ever　so　timid　before！　　If　he　would　only　give　her　an

encouraging　glance！　　If　he　would　only　turn　a　little　towards　her

and　relax　that　haughty；　unbending　attitude…



〃Mr。　Van　Berg；〃　she　said　at　last；　in　a　voice　that　was　constrained

and　hard　from　her　effort　to　be　calm；　〃you　seem　very　vindictive

towards　that　poor　little　flower。〃



He　turned　partially　towards　her　and　coldly　said；　〃Good　evening　Miss

Mayhew；〃　then；　after　a　second；　added　carelessly：　　〃I　admit　that

this　worm…eaten　bud　is　rather　vexatious。　　It　haswhat　is　left

of　itexquisite　color；　and　in　form　nature　had　designed　it　to　be

perfect；　but〃　（with　a　slight　contemptuous　shrug）　〃you　see　what　it

is；〃　and　he　tossed　it　down　into　the　roadway。



Her　face　was　very　pale　and　her　voice　low；　as　she　answered：　　〃And

so　you　condemn　it　to　be　trampled　under　foot。〃



〃I　condemn　it！　　Not　at　all。　　Its　own　imperfection　condemns　it。〃



〃The　result　is　all　the　same；〃　she　replied；　with　sudden　change

of　manner。　　〃It　is　tossed　contemptuously　away　to　be　trodden　under

foot。　　Dull　and　ignorant　as　you　discovered　me　to　be；　Mr。　Van　Berg；

I　am　not　so　stupid　but　that　I　can　understand　you　this　evening。

Imperfect　as　I　am　I　could　pity　that　unfortunate　flower　whose

fragrance　rose　to　you　like　a　low　appeal　for　a　little　consideration；

at　least。　　Would　it　not　have　bloomed　as　perfectly　as　the　others　if

the　worm　had　let　it　alone？　　But；　I　suppose；　with　artist；　if　roses

or　human　lives　are　imperfect；　that　is　the　end　of　them。　　Misfortune

counts　for　nothing。〃



Van　Berg　listened　in　surprise　to　these　words；　and　his　haughty

complacency　was　decidedly　disturbed。　　He　was　about　to　reply　that

〃Evil　chosen　and　cherished　was　not　a　misfortune　but　a　fault；〃　when

she　turned　from　him　with　more　than　her　former　coldness　and　entered

the　house。



An　impulse　that　he　would　have　found　difficult　to　analyze　led　him

to　descend　the　steps　and　pick　up　the　symbolic　bud；　now　torn　and

withering　fast；　and　to　place　it　between　the　leaves　of　his　note…book。



If　she　had　only　seen　this　act　it　would　have　made　a　great　difference；

but；　ever　present　to　her　thought；　it　lay　where　he　had　tossed　it；

the　emblem　of　herself。











Chapter　XXXII。　　The　Dangers　of　Despair。









Discouragement　and　despair　are　dangerous　and　often　destructive　to

character。　　This　would　be　especially　true　of　one　like　Ida　Mayhew；

for　even　in　her　imperfection　she　possessed　a　simplicity　and　unity

which　made　it　impossible　for　a　part　of　such　moral　nature　as　she

possessed　to　stand；　if　another　part　were　undermined　or　broken　down。

The　whole　fabric　would　stand　or　fall　together。



She　had　been　a　wayward　child；　more　neglected　than　petted；　and

had　naturally　developed　a　passion　for　having　her　own　will；　right

or　wrong。　　As　she　grew　older；　her　extraordinary　dower　of　beauty

threatened　to　be　a　fatal　one。　　It　brought　her　attention　continuous

admiration　and　flattery　from　those　who　cared　nothing　for　her

personally。　　She　had　received　in　childhood　but　little　of　the　praise

which　love　prompts；　the　tender；　indulgent　idolatry　which；　although

dangerous　indeed　to　one's　best　development；　sometimes　softens　and

humanizes；　instead　of　rendering　selfish　and　arrogant。



Mrs。　Mayhew　petted　and　scolded　her　child　according　to　her　mood；

but　was　quite　consistent　in　her　general　neglect。　　Mr。　Mayhew　was

a　tired；　busy　man；　who　visited　at　his　own　home　rather　than　lived

there。　　Thus　the　growing　girl　was　left　chiefly　to　her　own　impulses；

and　average　human　nature　ensured　that　the　habit　of　thinking　of

herself　first　and　of　pleasing　herself　at　all　times　should　be　early

formed。　　Then；　as　she　saw　and　became　capable　of　understanding　the

homage　that　waits　on　mere　beauty；　the　world　over；　pride　and　vanity

grew　in　overshadowing　rankness。　　The　attention　she　received；　however；

was　chiefly　made　up　of　the　bold　stare　of　strangers；　and　the　open

flattery　of　those　who　admired　her　beauty　as　they　would　that　of　a

picture；　unconsciously　but　correctly　leaving　the　impression　that

they　cared　for　her　only　because　of　her　beauty。　　That　the　girl's

nature　should　grow　hard　and　callous　under　such　influences　was　what

might　have　been　expected。



Neglect　and　a　miserable　sham　of　an　education　had　dwarfed　her　mind。

She　had　been　〃finished〃　by　an　ultra　fashionable　school　before　she

understood　the　meaning　of　the　studies　which　she　passed　over　in　a

dainty　quickstep；　scarcely　touching　the　surface。



Her　heart　and　moral　nature　were　almost　equally　undeveloped。　　Hitherto

she　had　known　but　little　experience　tending　to　evoke　gentle　feeling

or　generous　action。　　She　had　confounded　the　few　genuine　admirers；

who；　infatuated　with　her　beauty；　endowed　her　with　all　heavenly

graces；　awaiting　only　the　awakening　hand　of　their　love；　with　the

heartless　or　brainless　fellows　who　were　not　particular　about　heavenly

graces；　provided　a　girl　had　a　fine　figure　and　a　fair　face。



When　the　artist　first　met　her　at　the　concert　garden；　she　was　in

tr