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Innocent : her fancy and his fact

Chapter 9 No.9

Word Count: 4270    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

kind of thing-he was, if it may be so expressed, a refined libertine, loving women from a purely physical sense of attraction and pleasure conveyed to himself, and obtusely ignorant of the needs

r a fresh victim when he met Innocent. She was a complete novelty to him, and stimulated his more or less jaded emotions,-he found her quaint and charming as a poet's dream of some nymph of the woodlands,-her manner of looking at life and the things of life was so deliciously simple-almost mediaeval,-for she believed that a man should die rather than break his word or imperil his honour, which to Jocelyn was such a primitive state of things as to seem prehistoric. Then there was her fixed and absurd "fancy" about the noble qualities and manifold virtues of the French knight who had served the Duc d'Anjou,-and who had been to her from childhood a kind of lover in the spirit,-a being whom she had instinctively tried to serve and to please; and he had sufficient imagination to understand and take advantage of the feeling aroused in her when she had met

er better, he put a check on himself and hesitated as one may hesitate before pulling up a rose-bush from its happy growing place and flinging it out on the dust-heap to die. She was so utterly unsuspicious and unaware of evil, and she had placed him on so high a pedestal of honour, trusting him with such perfect and unquestioning faith, th

is drawing and colouring with results that were brilliant and convincing enough to ensure success for all his efforts. Sometimes-lost in a sudden fit of musing-he wondered how his life would shape itself if he married her? He had avoided marriage as a man might avoid hanging,-considering it, not without reason, the possible ruin of an artist's greater career. Among many men he had known, men of undoubted promise, it had proved the fatal step downward from the high to the low. One particular "chum" of his own, a gifted painter, had married a plump ros

y lines and spreading into a double chin! Those pretty eyes peering into the larder and considering the appearance of uncooked bacon! Perish the thought! One might as well think of Shakespeare's Juliet paying the butcher's bill, or worse still, selecting the butcher's meat! Forbid it, O ye heavens! Of course if ideals could be realised, which they never are, I can see myself wedded for pure love, without a care, painting my pictures at ease, with a sweet woman worshipping me, ever a

"sunbeam wings" with all a vivisector's scientific satisfaction. And in his imaginary pictures of what might have been if "ideals" were realised, he did not for a moment conceive HIMSELF as "worshipping" the woman

finest passages of poetry or prose from his consideration with light scorn as "purple patches," borrowing that hackneyed phrase from the lower walks of the press,-the most inspired writers, both of ancient and modern times, came equally under the careless lash of his derision,-so that Innocent, utterly bewildered by his sweeping denunciation of many brilliant and famous authors, shrank into her wounded self with pain, humiliation and keen disappointment, feeling that there was certainly no chance for her to appeal to him in any way through the thoughts she cherished and expressed with truth and fervour to a listening world. That world listened-but HE did not!-therefore the world seemed worthless and its praise mere mockery. She had no vanity to support her,-she was not "strong-minded" enough to o

ou will! You will guide and help her again as you have guided and helped her before. For I believe you brought her to me, Pierce!-yes, I am sure you did! In that other world where you are, you have learned how much

the portrait as a kind of votive offering, with something of the same superstitious feeling that induces a devout Roman Catholic

here, chiefly at houses where Amadis de Jocelyn was also one of the invited guests. She was made the centre of a considerable amount of adulation, which did not move her to any sort of self-satisfaction, because in the background of her thoughts there was always the light jest and smile of her lover, who laughed at praise, except, be it here said, when it was awarded to himself. Then he did not laugh-he assumed a playful humility which, being admirably acted, almost passed for modesty. But if by chance he had to listen to any praise of "Ena Armitage" as author or woman, he changed the subject as soon as he could conveniently do so without brusquerie. And very gradually it dawned upon her that he took no pride in her work or in the position she had won, and that he was more reluctant than glad to hear her prai

e labyrinth of her mystery,-people nodded mysteriously at each other and began to whisper suggestions-

er portrait pain

ith the queer name

ven him the

t. He's painting it

O

h an exchange of smiles all round. And

a 'case,' do

rriage? Oh dear no! Joce

e-er-well!-a littl

r women are always fools on

n't he very

n. He's too clever to show her any special attention-it migh

a retreat. But how to do it? The position was delicate and difficult. If Innocent had been an ordinary type of woman, vain and selfish, fond of frivolities and delighting in new conquests, his

and faithful!" he soliloquised-"But when they ARE pure and faithful w

nse. The sweet body, with its delicate wavering tints of white and rose was as the unspoilt sheath of a lily-bud,-no one could guess that within the sheath the lily itself was blighted and slowly withering. One may question whether it is not a more cruel thing to seduce the soul than the body,-to c

he agreeable entremets of life-a good dinner-a choice cigar! These things never bother you afterwards,-unless you eat too much or smoke too much,-then you have headache and indigestion-distinctly your own fault! But

th certain high and ultra-sensitive natures love is a greater necessity than life itself, and that if they are deprived of the glory th

perplexed, and not altogether pleased at the expression, which, entirely away from his will and intention, had insensibly thrown a shadow of sadness on the face,-it had come there apparently of itself, unbidden. He had been particularly proud of his success in the drawing of the girl's extremely sensitive mouth, for he had, as he thought, caught the fleeting sweetness of the smile which was one of her greatest charms,-but now, despite his pains, that smi

of a living woman," he said to himsel

-or do something odd as women generally did when their feelings escaped control? Her face was very pale-her eyes startlingly bright,-and the graceful white summer frock she wore, with soft old lace falling about it, a costume completed in perfection by a picturesque Leghorn hat bound with black vel

ked, with unconscious shar

y and looked up smiling-but there

adis! Noth

quick sigh

had a grievance-all women have grievance

miliar dais where she had posed for her picture, and waited a moment. He did not at once come to sit

hich trembled despite herself-"And if I had I should not vex you with it. But

nd at her wit

trent'-and we both want exactly the same thing! Dear little girl

diance lit

would wish," she said-"Now t

eople to come here and see it before it leaves London. Then it m

in sudden terr

you go

a little

ss-I will explain when we have our

ere she sat, lifted her in his arms

You little Innocent! You are so

quick eager kisses on her lips, eyes and warm soft neck. He felt her hea

e questioned, between little sighs

swered-"Does a man behave li

ld piteousness in her sweet eyes-"A ma

asp of her, astoni

t?" he asked-"Who told y

you find it pleasant to kiss and to embrace me for the moment-bu

by love?" he ask

si

wrong the thing it loved! Words, kisses, embraces-they are just the sweet outflow of

as s

d laid her little han

te sure of that angel,

sure

full and quiet

now-it is growing late in the afternoon and you must not stay here too long. Come to-morro

she interpo

ed, cur

As you wil

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