asking, and I thank you: I wanted but a moment to throw off the thought of that terrible day." Then they came back together, and the princess, who had tact enough when she cared to use it, soon put matters right again. I started to tell one of my best stories in order to cheer Brandon, but in the midst of it, Mary, who, I had noticed, was restless and uneasy, full of blushes and hesitancy, and with a manner as new to her as the dawn of the first day was to the awakening world, abruptly asked Brandon to dance with her again. She had risen and was standing by her chair, ready to be led out. "Gladly," answered Brandon, as he sprang to her side and took her hand. "Which shall it be, La Galliard or the new dance?" And Mary standing there, the picture of waiting, willing modesty, lifted her free hand to his shoulder, tried to raise her eyes [72]to his, but failed, and softly said: "The new dance." [72] This time the dancing was more soberly done, and when Mary stopped it was with serious, thoughtful eyes, for she had felt the tingling of a new strange force in Brandon's touch. A man, not a worm, but a real man, with all the irresistible infinite attractions that a man may have for a woman—the subtle drawing of the lodestone for the passive iron—had come into her life. Doubly sweet it was to her intense, young virgin soul, in that it first revealed the dawning of that two-edged bliss which makes a heaven or a hell of earth—of earth, which owes its very existence to love. I do not mean that Mary was in love, but that she had met, and for the first time felt the touch, yes even the subtle, unconscious, dominating force so sweet to woman, of the man she could love, and had known the rarest throb that pulses in that choicest of all God's perfect handiwork—a woman's heart—the throb that goes before—the John, the Baptist, as it were, of coming love. It being after midnight, Mary filled two cups of wine, from each of which she took a sip, and handed them to Brandon and me. She then paid me the ten crowns, very soberly thanked us and said we were at liberty to go. The only words Brandon ever spoke concerning that evening were just as we retired: "Jesu! she is perfect. But you were wrong, [73]Caskoden. I can still thank God I am not in love with her. I would fall upon my sword if I were." [73]
Prev.
Back
Top