The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 344: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE LADY AND THE PAGE O20 ‘“ Recollect it, miss?’’ he exclaimed. ‘Oh, it were im- possible to forget it! Even if I had never seen that lady but once, — and even if it were only on that first occasion when I was but six years old, — her image would have remained indelibly impressed upon my mind. But recollect, Miss Farefield, that on two subsequent occasions did I behold that lady at about a year’s interval each time, and that on the last occasion I was eight years old. At this age the mind is callous and insensible to many things, but equally susceptible and sensitive in other things. Amidst the Alpine forests there is a tree which if, when a tender sapling, a name be engraved upon it, will, as it grows with the progress of years, retain the inscription thus made; and while increasing in bulk and height, it still preserves the name indented upon its rind, and the larger it becomes the deeper, the wider, and - the more palpable grows the inscription also. So it is with certain images which are engraven upon the youthful heart. The human sapling grows up to man’s estate, and time, instead of obliterating the inscription, deepens it, makes it spread over a wider space of the heart, and allows it not to be effaced.”’ “ Frank,’”’? murmured Juliana, gazing upon the youth in mingled astonishment and adoration, “it is something ineffably sweet, though mournful and touching, to hear you talk thus. Oh, if my image could only be imprinted thus indelibly upon your heart, how happy should I be. But ere now you addressed me as Miss Farefield. When we are alone together, let there henceforth be no ceremony between us. Away, away,’ cried the impassioned young lady, “ with all cold formalities. To me you are Frank, and to you I am Juliana.”’ The youth, who in his inexperience of the human heart mistook this gush of impassioned feelings for the purest and chastest love, a mistake which Juliana herself also made in respect to her own emotions, was enraptured by the lan- guage, the looks, and the caresses of that splendid patrician lady; and amidst all the mournful reminiscences which the recital of his history had conjured up, he felt soothed | and consoled by her kind words and her tender sympathy, © so that bending down as he stood by her chair, he kissed her unasked. She embraced him with glowing ardour, and after this interchange of caresses, he resumed his narrative. COMMICLOoOoOKS.E®