In the Fog.
Out of the sunshine of yesterday came the heavy mists of to-day. The
sea slips under us in silver swells. Everybody is wrapped to the chin,
and Porter has just stopped to ask me if I want something hot sent up.
I told him "no," and sent him on to Leila. I like this still world,
and the gray ghosts about the deck. Delilah has just sailed by in a
beautiful smoke-colored costume--with her inevitable knot of
heliotrope--a phantom lady, like a lovely dream.
Did I tell you that a very distinguished and much titled gentleman
wants to marry Delilah, and that he is waiting now for her answer?
Porter thinks she will say "yes." But Leila and I don't. We are sure
that she will find her fate in Colin. He dominates her; he dives
beneath the surface and brings up the real Delilah, not the cool,
calculating Delilah that we once knew, but the lovely, gracious lady
that she now is. It is as if he had put a new soul inside of the
worldly shell that was once Delilah. Yet there is never a sign between
them of anything but good comradeship. Grace says that Colin is
following the fashionable policy of watchful waiting--but I'm not sure.
I fancy that they will both wake up suddenly to what they feel, and
then it will be quite wonderful to see them.
Porter doesn't believe in the waking-up process. He says that love is
a growth. That people must know each other for years and years, so
that each can understand the faults and virtues of the other. But to
me it seems that love is a flame, illumining everything in a moment.
Porter came while I was writing that--and made me walk with him up and
down, up and down. He was afraid I might get chilled. Of course he
means to be kind, but I don't like to have him tell me that I must
"make an effort"--it gives me a sort of Mrs. Dombey feeling. I don't
wonder that she just curled up and died to get rid of the trouble of
living.
I knew while I walked with Porter that people were wondering who I
was--in my long black coat, with my hair all blown about. I fancy that
they won't link my name, sentimentally, with the Knight of the Auburn
Crest. Beside Grace and Delilah I look like a little country girl.
But I don't care--my thick coat is comfortable, and my little soft hat
stays on my head, which is all one needs, isn't it? But as I write
this I wonder where the girl is who used to like pretty clothes. Do
you remember the dress I wore at Constance's wedding? I was thinking
to-day of it--and of Leila hippity-hopping up the stairs in her one
pink slipper. Oh, how far away those days seem--and how strong I
felt--and how ready I was to face the world, and now I just want to
crawl into a corner and watch other people live.