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easiest way to deceive a poet is to tell him the truth。〃
She was testing the validity of her epigram in a daring way； and for a
moment the shadow of my visionthe Bertha whose soul was no secret to
mepassed between me and the radiant girl； the playful sylph whose
feelings were a fascinating mystery。 I suppose I must have shuddered； or
betrayed in some other way my momentary chill of horror。
〃Tasso！〃 she said； seizing my wrist； and peeping round into my face；
〃are you really beginning to discern what a heartless girl I am？ Why； you
are not half the poet I thought you were； you are actually capable of
believing the truth about me。〃
The shadow passed from between us； and was no longer the object
nearest to me。 The girl whose light fingers grasped me； whose elfish
charming face looked into minewho； I thought； was betraying an interest
in my feelings that she would not have directly avowed；this warm
breathing presence again possessed my senses and imagination like a
returning siren melody which had been overpowered for an instant by the
roar of threatening waves。 It was a moment as delicious to me as the
waking up to a consciousness of youth after a dream of middle age。 I
forgot everything but my passion； and said with swimming eyes …
〃Bertha； shall you love me when we are first married？ I wouldn't
mind if you really loved me only for a little while。〃
Her look of astonishment； as she loosed my hand and started away
from me； recalled me to a sense of my strange； my criminal indiscretion。
〃Forgive me；〃 I said； hurriedly； as soon as I could speak again； 〃I did
not know what I was saying。〃
〃Ah； Tasso's mad fit has e on； I see；〃 she answered quietly； for she
had recovered herself sooner than I had。 〃Let him go home and keep his
head cool。 I must go in； for the sun is setting。〃
I left herfull of indignation against myself。 I had let slip words
which； if she reflected on them； might rouse in her a suspicion of my
abnormal mental conditiona suspicion which of all things I dreaded。
And besides that； I was ashamed of the apparent baseness I had mitted
in uttering them to my brother's betrothed wife。 I wandered home slowly；
entering our park through a private gate instead of by the lodges。 As I
approached the house； I saw a man dashing off at full speed from the
stable…yard across the park。 Had any accident happened at home？ No；
perhaps it was only one of my father's peremptory business errands that
required this headlong haste。
Nevertheless I quickened my pace without any distinct motive； and
was soon at the house。 I will not dwell on the scene I found there。 My
brother was deadhad been pitched from his horse； and killed on the spot
by a concussion of the brain。
I went up to the room where he lay； and where my father was seated
beside him with a look of rigid despair。 I had shunned my father more
than any one since our return home； for the radical antipathy between our
natures made my insight into his inner self a constant affliction to me。
But now； as I went up to him； and stood beside him in sad silence； I felt
the presence of a new element that blended us as we had never been blent
before。 My father had been one of the most successful men in the
money…getting world： he had had no sentimental sufferings； no illness。
The heaviest trouble that had befallen him was the death of his first wife。
But he married my mother soon after； and I remember he seemed exactly
the same； to my keen childish observation； the week after her death as
before。 But now； at last； a sorrow had ethe sorrow of old age；
which suffers the more from the crushing of its pride and its hopes； in
proportion as the pride and hope are narrow and prosaic。 His son was to
have been married soonwould probably have stood for the borough at the
next election。 That son's existence was the best motive that could be
alleged for making new purchases of land every year to round off the
estate。 It is a dreary thing onto live on doing the same things year after
year； without knowing why we do them。 Perhaps the tragedy of
disappointed youth and passion is less piteous than the tragedy of
disappointed age and worldliness。
As I saw into the desolation of my father's heart； I felt a movement of
deep pity towards him； which was the beginning of a new affectionan
affection that grew and strengthened in spite of the strange bitterness with
which he regarded me in the first month or two after my brother's death。
If it had not been for the softening influence of my passion for him
the first deep passion I had ever feltI should have been stung by the
perception that my father transferred the inheritance of an eldest son to me
with a mortified sense that fate had pelled him to the unwele
course of caring for me as an important being。 It was only in spite of
himself that he began to think of me with anxious regard。 There is hardly
any neglected child for whom death has made vacant a more favoured
place； who will not understand what I mean。
Gradually； however； my new deference to his wishes； the effect of that
patience which was born of my pity for him； won upon his affection； and
he began to please himself with