Man and Maid

And what is reverence--?

The soul's acknowledgment of the purity of another--and purity in this

sense means truth and honor, and lofty aims--not the denial of all

passion, or the practice of asceticism.

I utterly reverence Alathea, and yet I am sure with that mouth--if she

loved me she would be anything but cold. How on God's earth can I make

her love me--?

I went back to Versailles after luncheon, having had to see the

specialist about my eye, he thinks the socket is so marvelously healed

lately, that I could have the glass one in now much sooner than

Christmas. I wonder if some self confidence will return when I can feel

people are not revolted when looking at me?--That again is

super-sensitiveness. Of course no one is revolted--they feel pity--and

that is perhaps worse. When I get my leg too, shall I have the nerve to

make love to Alathea and use all the arts which used to be so successful

in the old days?

I believe if I were back in 1914--I should still be as nervous as a cat

when with her--Is this one of the symptoms of love again?

George Harcourt has many maxims upon the subject of love--One is that a

Frenchman thinks most of the methods of love--An Englishman more of the

sensations of love--and an Austrian of the emotions of love--. I wonder

if this is true? He also says that a woman does not really appreciate a

man who reverences her sex in the abstract, and is chivalrous about all

women,--she rather thinks him a simpleton--. What she does appreciate is

a man who holds cynical views about the female sex in general, and shows

reverence and chivalry towards herself in particular!

This I feel is probably the truth--!

I did not expect to hear anything of Alathea on the Monday, she was not

due until Tuesday at eleven o'clock, but when I came in from my sunset

on the terrace, I found two telegrams, all the first one said was-"Extremely sorry will be unable to come to-morrow, brother

seriously ill.

A. Sharp--."

And no address!

So I could not send sympathy, or even offer any help--I could have sworn

aloud! The storm had wrecked its vengeance on someone, then, and the

poor little chap had probably taken cold.

If I could only be of some use to them--Perhaps getting the best Doctor

is out of their reach. I was full of turmoil while I tore open the other

blue paper--this was from Suzette--.

"I come this evening at eight."

It was nearly seven o'clock now, so I could not put her off--and I am

not sure that I wanted to--Suzette is a human being and kindly, and her

heart is warm.