Josephine comforted him. She did not apparently try to, she did not do
or say anything to the purpose; but she evinced such consternation at
the sight of his tears, that stronger thoughts came. He put aside his
trouble, and helped her to mount her horse.
They rode along the beach slowly together. She was content to go slowly.
She looked physically too exhausted to ride fast. Even yet probably,
within her heart, the conflict was going forward that had only been well
begun in her brief solitude of the sand valley.
Caius looked at her from time to time with feelings of fierce
indignation and dejection. The indignation was against Le Maitre, the
dejection was wholly upon his own account; for he felt that his plan of
help had failed, and that where he had hoped to give strength and
comfort, he had only, in utter weakness, exacted pity. Caius had one
virtue in these days: he did not admire anything that he did, and he did
not even think much about the self he scorned. With regard to Josephine,
he felt that if her philosophy of life were true it was not for him to
presume to pity her. So vividly had she brought her conception of the
use of life before him that it was stamped upon his mind in a brief
series of pictures, clear, indelible; and the last picture was one of
which he could not think clearly, but it produced in him an idea of the
after-life which he had not before.
Pages:
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264