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And in every human heart you find some sorrow, some frustration, some lurking pang. I often think of Lafcadio Hearn's story of his Japanese cook. Hearn was talking of the Japanese habit of not showing their emotions on their faces. His cook was a smiling, healthy, agreeable-looking young fellow whose face was always cheerful.
She awoke about an hour before Gilbert Hearn's arrival, and her nervous trepidation at the thought of meeting him was so great that I resolved she should not see him at least not that night and I told her so. This gave her great relief, though she said it was cowardly in her to feel so. But in truth she was too ill to see him.
"Or a banker," I thought, as I glanced at Mr. Hearn's ample waistcoat; but I leaned back in my chair and laughed heartily as I said: "You cannot get me back to my room, Mrs. Yocomb, now that I know I've escaped an ovation. I'd rather have a toothache." "But does thee really feel strong enough?" "Oh, yes; I never felt better in my life."
I whispered in her ear, "I told you that your kiss would make me well." "Yes; but thee said Emily Warren's roses too," protested the little girl. "Did I?" I replied, laughing. "Well, there's no escaping the truth in this house." I dared not look at Miss Warren, but saw that Mr. Hearn's eyes were on her. "Confound him!" I thought. "Can he be fool enough to be jealous?"
Notwithstanding this, many of the stories and sketches are a permanent addition to Hearn's work. This volume of collectanea is divided into two parts. First of all, twelve new stories have been recovered from magazine files. Three of these are negligible journalism, and six others are chiefly interesting either as early studies for later stories, or for their biographical value.
Hearn's sake as her own, and sometimes I was so impressed by the strong, passionate music that she evoked that I was compelled to hasten beyond its reach. It meant too much to me. Oh, the strange idolatry of an absorbing affection! All that she said or did had for me an indescribable charm that both tortured and delighted. Still every hour increased my conviction that my only safety was in flight.
When M. Loti-Viaud, that most exquisite of French prose artists and sentimental sensualists, made his appearance, Lafcadio was ravished into the seventh heaven. You can't read a page of Loti aloud; hearing is never the final court of appeal for him. Nor is the ear regarded in Hearn's prose. He is not "auditive"; like Loti and the Goncourts, he writes for the eye. Fr.
I spoke often to both Adah and Zillah, and tried to be as frank and unconscious in one case as the other. I even made the acquaintance of Mr. Hearn's little girl indeed, her father formally presented her to me as his daughter Adela. I knew nothing of his domestic history, and gained no clew as to the length of the widowhood which he now proposed to end as speedily as possible.
I counted up last Sunday night for I'll not deny I was crying because I had to shut the door in Jem Hearn's face, and he's a steady young man, fit for any girl; only I had given missus my word."
"They'll be across in two or three hours' time," said the squire. "They both dressed for dinner, and, as I thought, made themselves very smart; but for such a grand occasion as this they thought a second dressing necessary. How do you do, Mrs Hearn? I hope you are quite well. No rheumatism left, eh?" This the squire said very loud into Mrs Hearn's ear.
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