Последний отзыв
Очень интересная!
По всем вопросам обращайтесь на: info@litportal.ru
(©) 2003-2024.
✖
Nobody
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
At that Lois sat down, and so did he. She could not seem to bid him goaway. However, she said —
"Mrs. Wishart has taken Madge to your sister's. It is the night of hermusic party."
"Why did not Mrs. Wishart take you?"
"I thought – it was better for me to stay at home," Lois answered, witha little hesitation.
"You are not afraid of an evening alone!"
"No, indeed; how could I be? Indeed, I think in New York it is rather aluxury."
Then she wished she had not said that. Would he think she meant tointimate that he was depriving her of a luxury? Lois was annoyed atherself; and hurried on to say something else, which she did not intendshould be so much in the same line as it proved. Indeed, she wasshocked the moment she had spoken.
"Don't you go to your sister's music parties, Mr. Dillwyn?"
"Not universally."
"I thought you were so fond of music" – Lois said apologetically.
"Yes," he said, smiling. "That keeps me away."
"I thought," – said Lois, – "I thought they said the music was so good?"
"I have no doubt they say it. And they mean it honestly."
"And it is not?"
"I find it quite too severe a tax on my powers of simulation anddissimulation. Those are powers you never call in play?" he added, witha most pleasant smile and glance at her.
"Simulation and dissimulation?" repeated Lois, who had by no means gother usual balance of mind or manner yet. "Are those powers which oughtto be called into play?"
"What are you going to do?"
"When?"
"When, for instance, you are in the mood for a grand theme of Handel, and somebody gives you a sentimental bit of Rossini. Or whenMendelssohn is played as if 'songs without words' were songs withoutmeaning. Or when a singer simply displays to you a VOICE, and leavesmusic out of the question altogether."
"That is hard!" said Lois.
"What is one to do then?"
"It is hard," Lois said again. "But I suppose one ought always to betrue."
"If I am true, I must say what I think."
"Yes. If you speak at all."
"What will they think then?"
"Yes," said Lois. "But, after all, that is not the first question."
"What is the first question?"
"I think – to do right."
"But what is right? What will people think of me, if I tell themtheir playing is abominable?"
"You need not say it just with those words," said Lois. "And perhaps,if anybody told them the truth, they would do better. At any rate, whatthey think is not the question, Mr. Dillwyn."
"What is the question?" he asked, smiling.
"What the Lord will think."
"Miss Lois, do you never use dissimulation?"
Lois could not help colouring, a little distressed.
"I try not," she answered. "I dare say I do, sometimes. I dare not say
I do not. It is very difficult for a woman to help it."
"More difficult for a woman than for a man?"
"I do not know. I suppose it is."
"Why should that be?"
"I do not know – unless because she is the weaker, and it may be part ofthe defensive armour of a weak animal."
Mr. Dillwyn laughed a little.
"But that is _dis_simulation," said Lois. "One is not bound always tosay all one thinks; only never to say what one does not think."
"You would always give a true answer to a question?"
"I would try."
"I believe it. And now, Miss Lois, in that trust, I am going to ask youa question. Do you recollect a certain walk in the rain?"
"Certainly!" she said, looking at him with some anxiety.
"And the conversation we held under the umbrella, without simulation ordissimulation?"
"Yes."
"You tacitly – perhaps more than tacitly – blamed me for having spent somuch of my life in idleness; that is uselessly, to all but myself."
"Did I?"
"Mrs. Wishart has taken Madge to your sister's. It is the night of hermusic party."
"Why did not Mrs. Wishart take you?"
"I thought – it was better for me to stay at home," Lois answered, witha little hesitation.
"You are not afraid of an evening alone!"
"No, indeed; how could I be? Indeed, I think in New York it is rather aluxury."
Then she wished she had not said that. Would he think she meant tointimate that he was depriving her of a luxury? Lois was annoyed atherself; and hurried on to say something else, which she did not intendshould be so much in the same line as it proved. Indeed, she wasshocked the moment she had spoken.
"Don't you go to your sister's music parties, Mr. Dillwyn?"
"Not universally."
"I thought you were so fond of music" – Lois said apologetically.
"Yes," he said, smiling. "That keeps me away."
"I thought," – said Lois, – "I thought they said the music was so good?"
"I have no doubt they say it. And they mean it honestly."
"And it is not?"
"I find it quite too severe a tax on my powers of simulation anddissimulation. Those are powers you never call in play?" he added, witha most pleasant smile and glance at her.
"Simulation and dissimulation?" repeated Lois, who had by no means gother usual balance of mind or manner yet. "Are those powers which oughtto be called into play?"
"What are you going to do?"
"When?"
"When, for instance, you are in the mood for a grand theme of Handel, and somebody gives you a sentimental bit of Rossini. Or whenMendelssohn is played as if 'songs without words' were songs withoutmeaning. Or when a singer simply displays to you a VOICE, and leavesmusic out of the question altogether."
"That is hard!" said Lois.
"What is one to do then?"
"It is hard," Lois said again. "But I suppose one ought always to betrue."
"If I am true, I must say what I think."
"Yes. If you speak at all."
"What will they think then?"
"Yes," said Lois. "But, after all, that is not the first question."
"What is the first question?"
"I think – to do right."
"But what is right? What will people think of me, if I tell themtheir playing is abominable?"
"You need not say it just with those words," said Lois. "And perhaps,if anybody told them the truth, they would do better. At any rate, whatthey think is not the question, Mr. Dillwyn."
"What is the question?" he asked, smiling.
"What the Lord will think."
"Miss Lois, do you never use dissimulation?"
Lois could not help colouring, a little distressed.
"I try not," she answered. "I dare say I do, sometimes. I dare not say
I do not. It is very difficult for a woman to help it."
"More difficult for a woman than for a man?"
"I do not know. I suppose it is."
"Why should that be?"
"I do not know – unless because she is the weaker, and it may be part ofthe defensive armour of a weak animal."
Mr. Dillwyn laughed a little.
"But that is _dis_simulation," said Lois. "One is not bound always tosay all one thinks; only never to say what one does not think."
"You would always give a true answer to a question?"
"I would try."
"I believe it. And now, Miss Lois, in that trust, I am going to ask youa question. Do you recollect a certain walk in the rain?"
"Certainly!" she said, looking at him with some anxiety.
"And the conversation we held under the umbrella, without simulation ordissimulation?"
"Yes."
"You tacitly – perhaps more than tacitly – blamed me for having spent somuch of my life in idleness; that is uselessly, to all but myself."
"Did I?"
Другие электронные книги автора Susan Warner
Последний отзыв
Очень интересная!