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Updated: May 15, 2025
I would be like the poor, weak women they shut up in the Inquisition and who suffered on to the end only through remorseless compulsion, because the walls were too thick for escape, and the tormentor's hands and the rack were irresistible. My soul would succumb as well as my body. This would seem wild, wicked talk to Mr. Eltinge; it would seem weak and irrational to any man.
Eltinge is now beyond age and weakness, but Ida often murmurs with tears in her eyes as she looks at his portrait, "He is just speaking to me as he did when my heart was breaking."
Eltinge says it has never failed. Well, well! these are not the thoughts for me, though how I can help them I cannot tell.
"You have a noble theme," she said cordially, "and you can't do it justice in the room of a summer hotel. Besides I do think you owe it to Miss Mayhew to make all the amends in your power, and a fine picture of that emblematic tree, and her kind old friend beneath it, may be of very great help to her in her new life. I hope you will take me to see Mr. Eltinge on your return."
"I do not hope to be cured," said Ida, despondently, "but I would be very glad if I could think my life would not be a burden to myself and others." Mr. Eltinge pondered a few moments, and then brightened up, as if a pleasant thought had struck him. "What do you think of this pear-tree against which I'm leaning?" he asked.
Eltinge; that would be no proof that I did not have one, or that you had not given one to me. I don't see, Mr. Van Berg, that the fact that you have no faith this morning, is anything against the fact that I and Mr.
Eltinge with a fine blending of dignity and humility: "I honor you, sir," he said, "for your faithfulness to the one who has come to you for counsel and in a certain sense for protection; and I condemn myself with bitterness that you will never understand, that I wronged her in my thoughts and wounded her by any manner. I am eager to make any and every atonement in my power.
"My parents are both living." "And yet you cannot go to them? Poor child! That is the worst kind of orphanage." "Oh, Mr. Eltinge, this place seems like the garden of Eden, and I am bringing into it a heart full of trouble and wickedness." "Well, my child," replied the old gentleman, with a smile.
Ida returned shyly, and it would seem that some of the color of her flower had found its way into her cheeks. "Mr. Eltinge," she said, hesitatingly, "I don't believe I can make you understand how much I would like a picture of this pear-tree and yourself sitting under it as I have seen you for the past two days.
Her heart began to sink, and she said earnestly: "Mr. Eltinge, I've tried to be true; I want you to be faithful to me. Don't hide anything from me." Yes, my child," he replied gravely, "you are sincere you hide nothing. I think I understand you.
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