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She was in constant dread of a delicate woman's collapse; and after the sittings in the library had lasted a certain time she had now the courage to break in upon them, and drive Manisty's Egeria out of her cave to rest and to the garden.
Eleanor's thin face turns to him with responsive excitement. But she has seen these things before. Instinctively her eyes wander perpetually to Manisty's, taking their colour, their meaning from his. It is not the spectacle itself that matters to her poor Eleanor! One heart-beat, one smile of the man beside her outweighs it all.
She moved hurriedly, appealingly towards Miss Manisty, who took her arm kindly as they left the room. 'Don't let my nephew frighten you, my dear' she said 'He never thinks like anybody else. 'I read so much at Florence and on the journey' said Lucy, while her hand trembled in Miss Manisty's 'Mrs. Browning Mazzini many things. I could not put that time out of my head!
She thought of Lucy in Manisty's arms of that fresh young life against his breast and the thought maddened her. She was conscious of a certain terror of herself of this fury in the veins, so strange, so alien, so debasing. But it did not affect her will. Was Lucy's own heart touched? Over that question Eleanor had been racking herself for days past. But if so it could be only a passing fancy.
Nevertheless, as she knew well, at the very bottom of Manisty's being, there lay a remarkable fund of ordinary capacity, an invincible sanity in short, which had always so far rescued him in the long run from that element which was extravagance in him, and madness in his sister. And certainly nothing could have been more reasonable, strong and kind, than his further talk about his sister.
What if I am merely bound on the same charming voyage? 'I accept the comparison, she said with vivacity. 'End as he did in re-creating a church, and regenerating a literature and see who will count the shipwrecks! Her hand's disdainful gesture completed the sally. Manisty's face dismissed its shadow.
As he sat sipping Miss Manisty's tea, however, nothing could be divined of those scathing Latin sheets on which he had left his secretary employed. He had the air of one at peace with all the world hardly stirred indeed by the brilliance of his host. 'Italy again! said Reggie Brooklyn in Lucy's ear poor old Italy! one might be sure of that, when one sees one of these black gentlemen about.
Burgoyne's movements and voice; she was learning to understand Manisty's paradoxes, and Aunt Pattie's small weaknesses. She was less raw, evidently; yet not less individual. Her provincialisms were dropping away; her character, perhaps, was only emerging. 'Are you pleased with it? she said timidly, as Mrs.
But some day no doubt he would be unhappy in earnest; if her will held. But it would hold. After all, it was not much she asked. She might live till the winter; possibly a year. Not long, after all, in Lucy's life or Manisty's. Let them only wait a little. Her hand burnt in Lucy's cool clasp. Restlessly, she asked the girl some further questions about her walk.
The romance of the story and the moment, Manisty's low, rushing speech, the sparkle of his poet's look the girl's fancy yielded to the spell of them; her breath came quick and soft. Through all their outer difference, Manisty suddenly felt the response of her temperament to his. It was delightful to be there with her delightful to be talking to her.
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