Elfrides emotion was cumulative,and after a while would assert itself on a sudden.A slight touch was enough to set it free--a poem,a sunset,a cunningly contrived chord of music,a vague imagining,being the usual accidents of its exhibition.The longing for Knights respect,which was leading up to an incipient yearning for his love,made the present conjuncture a sufficient one.Whilst kneeling down previous to leaving,when the sunny streaks had gone upward to the roof,and the lower part of the church was in soft shadow,she could not help thinking of Coleridges morbid poem The Three Graves,and shuddering as she wondered if Mrs.Jethway were cursing her,she wept as if her heart would break.
They came out of church just as the sun went down,leaving the landscape like a platform from which an eloquent speaker has retired,and nothing remains for the audience to do but to rise and go home.Mr.and Mrs.Swancourt went off in the carriage,Knight and Elfride preferring to walk,as the skilful old matchmaker had imagined.They descended the hill together.
I liked your reading,Mr.Knight,Elfride presently found herself saying.You read better than papa.
I will praise anybody that will praise me.You played excellently,Miss Swancourt,and very correctly.
Correctly--yes.
It must be a great pleasure to you to take an active part in the service.
I want to be able to play with more feeling.But I have not a good selection of music,sacred or secular.I wish I had a nice little music-library--well chosen,and that the only new pieces sent me were those of genuine merit.
I am glad to hear such a wish from you.It is extraordinary how many women have no honest love of music as an end and not as a means,even leaving out those who have nothing in them.They mostly like it for its accessories.I have never met a woman who loves music as do ten or a dozen men I know.
How would you draw the line between women with something and women with nothing in them?
Well,said Knight,reflecting a moment,I mean by nothing in them those who dont care about anything solid.This is an instance:I knew a man who had a young friend in whom he was much interested;in fact,they were going to be married.She was seemingly poetical,and he offered her a choice of two editions of the British poets,which she pretended to want badly.He said,"Which of them would you like best for me to send?"She said,"Apair of the prettiest earrings in Bond Street,if you dont mind,would be nicer than either."Now I call her a girl with not much in her but vanity;and so do you,I daresay.
Oh yes,replied Elfride with an effort.
Happening to catch a glimpse of her face as she was speaking,and noticing that her attempt at heartiness was a miserable failure,he appeared to have misgivings.
You,Miss Swancourt,would not,under such circumstances,have preferred the nicknacks?
No,I dont think I should,indeed,she stammered.
I'll put it to you,said the inflexible Knight.Which will you have of these two things of about equal value--the well-chosen little library of the best music you spoke of--bound in morocco,walnut case,lock and key--or a pair of the very prettiest earrings in Bond Street windows?
Of course the music,Elfride replied with forced earnestness.
You are quite certain?he said emphatically.
Quite,she faltered;if I could for certain buy the earrings afterwards.
Knight,somewhat blamably,keenly enjoyed sparring with the palpitating mobile creature,whose excitable nature made any such thing a species of cruelty.
He looked at her rather oddly,and said,Fie!
Forgive me,she said,laughing a little,a little frightened,and blushing very deeply.
Ah,Miss Elfie,why didnt you say at first,as any firm woman would have said,I am as bad as she,and shall choose the same?
I dont know,said Elfride wofully,and with a distressful smile.
I thought you were exceptionally musical?
So I am,I think.But the test is so severe--quite painful.
I dont understand.
Music doesnt do any real good,or rather----
That IS a thing to say,Miss Swancourt!Why,what----
You dont understand!you dont understand!
Why,what conceivable use is there in jimcrack jewellery?
No,no,no,no!she cried petulantly;I didnt mean what you think.I like the music best,only I like----
Earrings better--own it!he said in a teasing tone.Well,I
think I should have had the moral courage to own it at once,without pretending to an elevation I could not reach.
Like the French soldiery,Elfride was not brave when on the defensive.So it was almost with tears in her eyes that she answered desperately:
My meaning is,that I like earrings best just now,because I lost one of my prettiest pair last year,and papa said he would not buy any more,or allow me to myself,because I was careless;and now I
wish I had some like them--thats what my meaning is--indeed it is,Mr.Knight.
I am afraid I have been very harsh and rude,said Knight,with a look of regret at seeing how disturbed she was.But seriously,if women only knew how they ruin their good looks by such appurtenances,I am sure they would never want them.
They were lovely,and became me so!
Not if they were like the ordinary hideous things women stuff their ears with nowadays--like the governor of a steam-engine,or a pair of scales,or gold gibbets and chains,and artists palettes,and compensation pendulums,and Heaven knows what besides.
No;they were not one of those things.So pretty--like this,she said with eager animation.And she drew with the point of her parasol an enlarged view of one of the lamented darlings,to a scale that would have suited a giantess half-a-mile high.
Yes,very pretty--very,said Knight dryly.How did you come to lose such a precious pair of articles?
I only lost one--nobody ever loses both at the same time.
