酷兔英语

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in him and spare him for the same sweet sake."

My young lady continued to look at me in confusion and mistrust,



and the result of her reflexion on what I had just said was to make

her suddenly break out: "Look here, sir - what's the matter with



him?"

"The matter with him is that if he doesn't look out people will eat



a great hole in his life."

She turned it over. "He hasn't any disfigurement?"



"Nothing to speak of!"

"Do you mean that social engagements interfere with his



occupations?"

"That but feebly expresses it."



"So that he can't give himself up to his beautiful imagination?"

"He's beset, badgered, bothered - he's pulled to pieces on the



pretext of being applauded. People expect him to give them his

time, his golden time, who wouldn't themselves give five shillings



for one of his books."

"Five? I'd give five thousand!"



"Give your sympathy - give your forbearance. Two-thirds of those

who approach him only do it to advertise themselves."



"Why it's too bad!" the girl exclaimed with the face of an angel.

"It's the first time I was ever called crude!" she laughed.



I followed up my advantage. "There's a lady with him now who's a

terrible complication, and who yet hasn't read, I'm sure, ten pages



he ever wrote."

My visitor's wide eyes grew tenderer. "Then how does she talk - ?"



"Without ceasing. I only mention her as a single case. Do you

want to know how to show a superlative consideration? Simply avoid



him."

"Avoid him?" she despairingly breathed.



"Don't force him to have to take account of you; admire him in

silence, cultivate him at a distance and secretlyappropriate his



message. Do you want to know," I continued, warming to my idea,

"how to perform an act of homage really sublime?" Then as she hung



on my words: "Succeed in never seeing him at all!"

"Never at all?" - she suppressed a shriek for it.



"The more you get into his writings the less you'll want to, and

you'll be immensely sustained by the thought of the good you're



doing him."

She looked at me without resentment or spite, and at the truth I



had put before her with candour, credulity, pity. I was afterwards

happy to remember that she must have gathered from my face the



liveliness of my interest in herself. "I think I see what you

mean."



"Oh I express it badly, but I should be delighted if you'd let me

come to see you - to explain it better."



She made no response to this, and her thoughtful eyes fell on the

big album, on which she presently laid her hands as if to take it



away. "I did use to say out West that they might write a little

less for autographs - to all the great poets, you know - and study



the thoughts and style a little more."

"What do they care for the thoughts and style? They didn't even



understand you. I'm not sure," I added, "that I do myself, and I

dare say that you by no means make me out."



She had got up to go, and though I wanted her to succeed in not

seeing Neil Paraday I wanted her also, inconsequently, to remain in



the house. I was at any rate far from desiring to hustle her off.

As Mrs. Weeks Wimbush, upstairs, was still saving our friend in her



own way, I asked my young lady to let me brieflyrelate, in

illustration of my point, the little incident of my having gone



down into the country for a profane purpose and been converted on

the spot to holiness. Sinking again into her chair to listen she



showed a deep interest in the anecdote. Then thinking it over

gravely she returned with her odd intonation: "Yes, but you do see



him!" I had to admit that this was the case; and I wasn't so

prepared with an effective attenuation as I could have wished. She



eased the situation off, however, by the charming quaintness with

which she finally said: "Well, I wouldn't want him to be lonely!"



This time she rose in earnest, but I persuaded her to let me keep

the album to show Mr. Paraday. I assured her I'd bring it back to



her myself. "Well, you'll find my address somewhere in it on a




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