Man and Maid

Suspense is the hardest thing to bear--what a ridiculous truism! It has

been said a thousand times before and will be said a thousand times

again!--because it has come to everyone at some moment, and so its pain

is universally understood. To have attained serenity would mean that one

was strong enough not to allow suspense to cause one a moment's doubt or

distress. I am far from serenity, I fear--for I am filled with unrest--I

try to tell myself that Alathea Sharp does not matter in my life at

all--that this is the end--that I am not to be influenced by her

movements or her thoughts, or her comings and goings--I try not to think

of her even as "Alathea"--And then when I have succeeded in some measure

in all this, a hideous feeling of sinking comes over me--that physical

sensation of a lead weight below the heart. What on earth is the good of

living an ugly maimed life?

It was ten times easier to carry on under the most disgusting and

fearsome circumstances when I was fighting, than it is now when

everything is done for my comfort, and I have all that money can buy.

What money cannot buy is of the only real consequence though. I must

read Henley again, and try to feel the thrill of pride I used to feel

when I was a boy at the line "I am the master of my fate, I am the

captain of my soul."

----What if she does not come back, and I do not hear any more of her?

Stop! Nicholas Thormonde, this is contemptible weakness!

* * * * *

This evening it was wonderful on the terrace, the sun set in a blaze of

crimson and purple and gold, every window in the Galerie des Glasses

seemed to be on fire--strange ghosts of by-gone courtiers appeared to be

flitting past the mirrors.

What do they think of the turmoil they have left behind them, I wonder?

Each generation torn by the same anguish which the worries of love

bring?--And what is love for?--Just to surround the re-creative instinct

with glamour and render it æsthetic?

Did cave men love?--They were exempt from pain of the mind at all

events. Civilization has augmented the mental anguishes, and pleasures

of love, and when civilization is in excess it certainly distorts and

perverts the whole passion.

But what is love anyway? the thing itself I mean. It is a want, and an

ache and a craving--I know what I want. I want firstly Alathea for my

own, with everything which that term implies of possession. Then I want

to share her thoughts, and I want to feel all the great aspirations of

her soul--I want her companionship--I want her sympathy--I want her

understanding.