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- 2656
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- 2026-01-30T20:48:52.918Z
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- 2583
- text
- "Thank you; but I can not stay this time. Look, I have forgotten my own
errand; I brought these strawberries for you, Mrs. Glendinning, and for
Pierre;--Pierre is so wonderfully fond of them."
"I was audacious enough to think as much," cried Pierre, "for you _and_
me, you see, mother; for you _and_ me, you understand that, I hope."
"Perfectly, my dear brother."
Lucy blushed.
"How warm it is, Mrs. Glendinning."
"Very warm, Lucy. So you won't stay to tea?"
"No, I must go now; just a little stroll, that's all; good-bye! Now
don't be following me, Pierre. Mrs. Glendinning, will you keep Pierre
back? I know you want him; you were talking over some private affair
when I entered; you both looked so very confidential."
"And you were not very far from right, Lucy," said Mrs. Glendinning,
making no sign to stay her departure.
"Yes, business of the highest importance," said Pierre, fixing his eyes
upon Lucy significantly.
At this moment, Lucy just upon the point of her departure, was hovering
near the door; the setting sun, streaming through the window, bathed her
whole form in golden loveliness and light; that wonderful, and most
vivid transparency of her clear Welsh complexion, now fairly glowed like
rosy snow. Her flowing, white, blue-ribboned dress, fleecily invested
her. Pierre almost thought that she could only depart the house by
floating out of the open window, instead of actually stepping from the
door. All her aspect to him, was that moment touched with an
indescribable gayety, buoyancy, fragility, and an unearthly evanescence.
Youth is no philosopher. Not into young Pierre's heart did there then
come the thought, that as the glory of the rose endures but for a day,
so the full bloom of girlish airiness and bewitchingness, passes from
the earth almost as soon; as jealously absorbed by those frugal
elements, which again incorporate that translated girlish bloom, into
the first expanding flower-bud. Not into young Pierre, did there then
steal that thought of utmost sadness; pondering on the inevitable
evanescence of all earthly loveliness; which makes the sweetest things
of life only food for ever-devouring and omnivorous melancholy. Pierre's
thought was different from this, and yet somehow akin to it.
This to be my wife? I that but the other day weighed an hundred and
fifty pounds of solid avoirdupois;--_I_ to wed this heavenly fleece?
Methinks one husbandly embrace would break her airy zone, and she exhale
upward to that heaven whence she hath hither come, condensed to mortal
sight. It can not be; I am of heavy earth, and she of airy light. By
heaven, but marriage is an impious thing!
Meanwhile, as these things ran through his soul, Mrs. Glendinning also
had thinkings of her own.
"A very beautiful tableau," she cried, at last, artistically turning her
gay head a little sideways--"very beautiful, indeed; this, I suppose is
all premeditated for my entertainment. Orpheus finding his Eurydice; or
Pluto stealing Proserpine. Admirable! It might almost stand for either."
"No," said Pierre, gravely; "it is the last. Now, first I see a meaning
there." Yes, he added to himself inwardly, I am Pluto stealing
Proserpine; and every accepted lover is.
"And you would be very stupid, brother Pierre, if you did not see
something there," said his mother, still that way pursuing her own
different train of thought. "The meaning thereof is this: Lucy has
commanded me to stay you; but in reality she wants you to go along with
her. Well, you may go as far as the porch; but then, you must return,
for we have not concluded our little affair, you know. Adieu, little
lady!"
- title
- Chunk 10