the quest of the golden girl-第13节

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res　except　her　eyes。　　I　suppose　she　had　a　nose；　a　little　lace　pocket…handkerchief　I　have　by　me　at　the　moment　is　almost　too　small　to　be　evidence　on　that　important　point。

As　I　walked　by　her　side　that　May　morning；　I　was　only　conscious　of　her　voice　and　her　exquisite　girlhood；　for　though　she　talked　with　the　APLOMB　of　a　woman　of　the　world；　a　passionate　candour　and　simple　ardour　in　her　manner　would　have　betrayed　her；　had　her　face　not　plainly　declared　her　the　incarnation　of　twenty。　　But　if　she　were　twenty　years　young；　she　was　equally　twenty　years　OLD；　and　twenty　years　old；　in　some　respects；　is　the　greatest　age　attained　to　by　man　or　woman。　　In　this　she　rather　differed　from　Alastor；　of　whom　otherwise　she　was　the　female　counterpart。　　Her　talk；　and　something　rather　in　her　voice　than　her　talk；　soon　revealed　her　as　a　curious　mixture　of　youth　and　age；　of　dreamer　and　desillusionee。

One　soon　realised　that　she　was　too　young；　was　hoping　too　much　from　life；　to　spend　one's　days　with。　　Yet　she　had　just　sufficiently　that　touch　of　languor　which　puts　one　at　one's　ease；　though　indeed　it　was　rather　the　languor　of　waiting　for　what　was　going　to　happen　than　the　weariness　of　experience　gone　by。　　She　was　weary；　not　because　of　the　past；　but　because　the　fairy　theatre　of　life　still　kept　its　curtain　down；　and　forced　her　to　play　over　and　over　again　the　impatient　overture　of　her　dreams。

I　have　no　doubt　that　it　was　largely　nervousness　that　kept　the　mysterious　playwright　so　long　fumbling　behind　the　scenes；　for　it　was　obvious　that　it　would　be　no　ordinary　sort　of　play；　no　every…day　domestic　drama；　that　would　satisfy　this　young　lady；　to　whom　life　had　given；　by　way　of　prologue；　the　inestimable　blessing　of　wealth；　and　the　privilege；　as　a　matter　of　course；　of　choosing　as　she　would　among　the　grooms　（that　is；　the　bride…grooms）　of　the　romantic　British　aristocracy。

She　had　made　youth's　common　mistake　of　beginning　life　with　books；　which　can　only　be　used　without　danger　by　those　who　are　in　a　position　to　test　their　statements。　　Youth　naturally　believes　everything　that　is　told　it；　especially　in　books。

Now；　books　are　simply　professional　liars　about　life；　and　the　books　that　are　best　worth　reading　are　those　which　lie　the　most　beautifully。　Yet；　in　fairness；　we　must　add　that　they　are　liars；　not　with　intent　to　mislead；　but　merely　with　the　tenderest　purpose　to　console。　　They　are　the　good　Samaritans　that　find　us　robbed　of　all　our　dreams　by　the　roadside　of　life；　bleeding　and　weeping　and　desolate；　and　such　is　their　skill　and　wealth　and　goodness　of　heart；　that　they　not　only　heal　up　our　wounds；　but　restore　to　us　the　lost　property　of　our　dreams；　on　one　condition；that　we　never　travel　with　them　again　in　the　daylight。

A　library　is　a　better　world；　built　by　the　brains　and　hearts　of　poets　and　dreamers；　as　a　refuge　from　the　real　world　outside；　and　in　it　alone　is　to　be　found　the　land　of　milk　and　honey　which　it　promises。

〃Milk　and　honey〃　would　have　been　an　appropriate　inscription　for　the　delicious　little　library　which　parents　who；　I　surmised；　doted　on　Nicolete　in　vain；　had　allowed　her　to　build　in　a　wild　woodland　corner　of　her　ancestral　park；　half　a　mile　away　from　the　great　house；　where；　for　all　its　corridors　and　galleries；　she　could　never　feel；　at　all　events；　spiritually　alone。　　All　that　was　most　sugared　and　musical　and　generally　delusive　in　the　old　library　of　her　fathers　had　been　brought　out　to　this　little　woodland　library；　and　to　that　nucleus　of　old　leather…bound　poets　and　romancers；　long　since　dead；　yet　as　alive　and　singing　on　their　shelves　as　any　bird　on　the　sunny　boughs　outside；　my　young　lady's　private　purse　had　added　all　that　was　most　sugared　and　musical　and　generally　delusive　in　the　vellum　bound　Japanese…paper　literature　of　our　own　luxurious　day。　　Nor　were　poets　and　romancers　from　over　seain　their　seeming　simple　paper　covers；　but　with；　oh；　such　complicated　and　subtle　insides！absent　from　the　court　which　Nicolete　held　here　in　the　greenwood。　　Never　was　such　a　nest　of　singing…birds。　　All　day　long；　to　the　ear　of　the　spirit；　there　was　in　this　little　library　a　sound　of　harping　and　singing　and　the　telling　of　tales；songs　and　tales　of　a　world　that　never　was；　yet　shall　ever　be。　　Here　day　by　day　Nicolete　fed　her　young　soul　on　the　nightingale's…tongues　of　literature；　and　put　down　her　book　only　to　listen　to　the　nightingale's…　tongues　outside。　　Yea；　sun；　moon；　and　stars　were　all　in　the　conspiracy　to　lie　to　her　of　the　loveliness　of　the　world　and　the　good　intentions　of　life。　　And　now；　thus　unexpectedly；　I　found　myself　joining　the　nefarious　conspiracy。　　Ah；　well！　was　I　not　twenty　myself；　and　full　of　dreams！



CHAPTER　V


'T　IS　OF　AUCASSIN　AND　NICOLETE

Thus　it　was　that　we　lunched　together　amid　the　books　and　birds；　in　an　exquisite　solitude　a　deux；　for　the　ringer　of　the　silver　bell　had　disappeared；　having　left　a　dainty　meal　in　readinessfor　two。

〃You　see　you　were　expected；〃　said　Nicolete；　with　her　pretty　laugh。　　〃I　dreamed　I　should　have　a　visitor　to…day；　and　told　Susan　to　lay　the　lunch　for　two。　　You　mustn't　be　surprised　at　that；〃　she　added　mischievously；　〃it　has　often　happened　before。　　I　dream　that　dream　every　other　night；　and　Susan　lays　for　two　every　day。　　She　knows　my　whims；knows　that　the　extra　knife　and　fork　are　for　the　fairy　knight　that　may　turn　up　any　afternoon；　as　I　tell　her〃

〃To　find　the　sleepless　princess；〃　I　added；　thinking　at　the　same　time　one　of　those　irrelevant　asides　that　will　go　through　the　brain　of　thirty；　that　the　woman　who　would　get　her　share　of　kisses　nowadays　must　neither　slumber　nor　sleep。

A　certain　great　poet；　I　think　it　was　Byron；　objected　to　seeing　women　in　the　act　of　eating。　He　thought　their　eating　should　be　done　in　private。　　What　a　curiously　perverse　opinion！　　For　surely　woman　never　shows　to　better　advantage　than　in　the　dainty　exercises　of　a　dainty　repast；　and　there　is　nothing　more　thrilling　to　man　than　a　meal　alone　with　a　woman　he　loves　or　is　about　to　love。　　Perhaps；　deep　down；　the　reason　is　that　there　still　vibrates　in　the　masculine　blood　the　thrilling　surprise　of　the　moment　when　man　first　realised　that　the　angel　woman　was　built　upon　the　same　carnivorous　principles　as　his　grosser　self。

That　is　one　of　the　first　heart…beating　surprises　that　come　upon　the　boy　Columbus；　as　he　sets　out　to　discover　the　New　World　of　woman；　and　indeed　his　surprise　has　not　seldom　deepened　into　admiration；　as　he　has　found　that　not　only　does　woman　eat；　but　frequently　eats　a　lot。

This　privilege　of　seeing　woman　eat　is　the　earliest　granted　of　those　delicate　animal　intimacies；　the　fuller　and　fuller　confiding　of　which　plays　not　the　least　important　part；　and　ever　such　a　sweet　one；　even　in　a　highly　transcendental　affection。　　It　is　this　gradual　humanising　of　the　divine　female　that　brings　about　the　spiritualising　of　the　unregenerate　male。

In　the　earliest　stages　of　love　the　services　are　small　that　we　are　privileged　to　do　for　the　loved　one。　　But　if　we　are　allowed　to　sit　at　meat　with　her；ever　a　royal　condescension；it　is　ours　at　least　to　pass　her　the　salt；　to　see　that　she　is　never　kept　waiting　a　moment　for　the　mustard　or　the　pepper；　to　cut　the　bread　for　her　with　geometrical　precision；　and　to　lean　as　near　her　warm　shoulder　as　we　dare　to　pour　out　for　her　the　sacred　wine。

Yes！　for　sure　I　was　twenty　again；　for　the　performance　of　these　simple　services　for　Nicolete　gave　me　a　thrill　of　pure　boyish　pleasure　such　as　I　had　never　expected　to　feel　again。　　And　did　she　not　make　a　knight　of　me　by　gently　asking　if　I　would　be　so　kind　as　to　carve　the　chicken；　and　how　she　laughed　quite　disproportionally　at　my　school…boy　story　of　the　man　who；　being　asked　to　carve　a　pigeon；　said　he　thought　they　had　better　send　for　a　wood…carver；　as　it　seemed　to　be　a　wood　pigeon。

And　while　we　ate　and　drank　and　laughed　and　chatted；　the　books　around　us　were　weaving　their　spells。　　Even　before　the　invention　of　printing　books　were　〃love's　purveyors。〃　Was　it　not　a　book　that　sent　Paolo　and　Francesca　for　ever　wandering　on　that　stormy　wind　of　passion　and　of　death？　　And　nowadays　the　part　played　by　books　in　human　drama　is　greater　than　we　perhaps　realise。　Apart　from　their　serious　influence　as　determining　destinies　of　the　character；　what　endless　opportunities　they　afford　to　lovers；　who　perhaps　are　denied　all　other　meeting…places　than　may　be　found　on　the　tell…tale　pages　of　a　marked　volume。　　The　method　is　so　easy　and　so　unsuspect。　　You　have　only　to　put　faint　pencil…marks　against　the　tenderest　passages　in　your　favourite　new　poet；　and　lend　the　volume　to　Her；　and　She　has　only　to　leave　here　and　there　the　dropped　violet　of　a　timid　confirmatory　initial；　for　you　to　know　your　fate。　　And　what　a　touchstone　books　thus　become！　　Indeed　they　simplify　love…　making；　from　every　point　of　view。　　With　books　so　inexpensive　and　accessible　to　all　as　they　are　to…day；　no　one　need　run　any　risks　of　marrying　the　wrong　woman。　　He　has　only　to　put　her　through　an　unconscious　examination　by　getting　her　to　read　and　mark　a　few　of　his　favourite　authors；　and　he　is　thus　in　possession　of　the　master　clues　of　her　character。　　With　a　list　of　her　month's　reading　and　a　photograph；　a　man　ought　to　be　able　to　make　up　his　mind　about　any　given　woman；　even　though　he　has　never　spoken　to　her。　　〃Name　your　favourite　writer〃　should　be　one　of　the　first　questions　in　the　Engagement　Catechism。

Th