But beauty, as he understood it, was something of deeper and wider
significance than that generally accepted. It was all, in mankind and
nature, that appeals to and gratifies the senses and sensuous emotions.
Cornelia had been the door through which he had passed into a
consciousness of its existence; the fragrant pass leading to the mighty
valley. Unfortunately neither he nor she was in a position to comprehend
this fact: she was no metaphysical casuist, and never imagined but that
he would find the end, as well as the beginning of his newly-opened
world in her; and he, dizzied by the tumult and novelty of the vision,
was naturally disposed to attribute most value and importance to the
only element in it of which he had as yet taken any real and definite
cognizance.
"What a strange, one-sided life you must have had!" Cornelia remarked,
after they had walked a little way in silence. "Don't you think you'll
be happier for having found the other side out?"
Bressant started, and did not immediately reply. Thus far he had looked
upon this unexpected enlargement of feeling as merely a temporary
episode, after all; not any thing permanently to affect the
predetermined course and conduct of his life. The idea that it was to
round out and perfect his existence--that he was to find his highest
happiness in it--had never for a moment occurred to him. He did not
believe it possible that it could coexist with lofty aims and strenuous
effort; it was a weakness--a delicious one--but still a weakness, and
ultimately to be trampled under foot.
But Cornelia had taken the ground that it was the half of life--not only
that, but the better and more desirable half. For the first time it
dawned upon the young man, that he might be obliged to decide between
following out the high and ascetic ambition which had guided his life
thus far, and abandoning, or at least lowering it, to take in that other
part of which Cornelia was the incarnation. The prospect drove the blood
to his heart and left him pale. He would not entertain it yet. Had he
not promised himself to let this one night go by?
"It would be a very sweet happiness, if I were sure of finding it," said
he; and Cornelia, turning this answer over in her foolish heart, made a
great deal out of it, and was thankful for the darkness that veiled her
face. But Bressant was hardly far advanced enough in the art of
affection to make a graceful use of double meanings; and most likely
Cornelia might have spared herself the blush.
Nevertheless, the young man was more deeply involved than he suspected.
That magnetic sympathy could not otherwise have existed between him and
his companion. The music could not have sounded through her sense to
his, nor her whisper have penetrated the barrier of his infirmity,
unless something akin to love had been the interpreter and guide; and
not a one-sided something, either.