Ainslee's Magazine, February 1913 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

20 enced into becoming engaged to this man, who is ridiculously unsuited to you. You, so full of life and bound- less joy. You, who will learn all of love’s meaning presently, and what it makes of existence, and what God meant by giving it to us mortals. You are intended by nature to be a com- plete woman if you did but know it; but such a life, tied to that half-fish man, would atrophy all that is finest in your character. You would grow really into what they are trying to make you appear, after years of hopelessness and suffering. Do you not feel all this, little star—tell me?” “Yes,” Stella answered, “it is true; I have seemed to feel the cords and the shackles pulling at me often, but never that they. were unbearable until I—spoke with. you—and ‘you put new thoughts into my head.” “T did well, then. And because of a silly convention you would ruin all your life by going on with these ways. It is unthinkable!’’ And his deep voice vibrated with feeling. “It is a mis- take, that is all, and can be rectified. If you were already married to this man I would not plead so, because then you would have crossed the Rubicon and assumed responsibilities which you would have to accept or suffer the con- sequences. But this preliminary bond can be broken without hurt to either side. A man of the good clergyman’s type will not suffer in his emotions at the loss of you; he suffices unto him- self for those; his vanity will be wounded, that is all. And surely it is better that should gall for a little than that you should spoil your life. Sweet flower, realize yourself these things— that sunny hair and that beautiful skin and those velvet eyes were made for the joy and glory of a man, not for tempta- tions to a strict priest, who would re- sent their power as a sin every time he felt himself influenced by their charm. Gods above! He would not a what to do with you, heart of me !” Stella was thrilling with exquisite emotion, but the influence of her strict and narrow bringing up could not be AINSLEE’S quite overcome in these few moments. She longed to be convinced, and yet some altruistic sentiment made her feel still some qualms and misgivings. If she should be causing Eustace great pain by breaking her engagement, if it were very wrong to go against her uncle and aunt—especially her Aunt Caroline, her own mother’s sister She clasped her little hands nervously, and looked up in this strong man’s face with pathetic, pleading intensity. “Oh, please tell me what ought I to do, then—what is right?’ she implored. “And because I want so much to be- lieve you I fear it must be wrong to do so.” He leaned nearer to her, and spoke earnestly. His stillness was almost ominous, it gave the impression of such immense self-control, and his voice was as those bass notes of the priests of St. Isaac’s in his own northern land. “Dear, honest little girl,’ he said ten- derly, “I worship your goodness. And I know you will presently see the truth. Love is of God, and is imperious; and because she loves him is the only one reason why a woman should give her life to a man. Quite apart from the law which proclaims that each indi- vidual must be the arbiter of his own fate, and not succumb to the wishes of others, it would be an ethical sin for you to marry the worthy Mr. Medlicott —not loving him. Surely you can see this ?” “Yes, yes; it would be dreadful!” she murmured. “But Aunt Caroline— she caused me to accept him—I mean, she wanted me to so much. I never really felt anything for him myself, and lately—ever since the beginning, in fact—I have been getting more and more indifferent to him.” “Then surely it is plain that you must be free of him, darling. Throw all the responsibility upon me, if you will; I promise to take every care of you. And I want you only to promise you will follow each step that I explain to you Then he broke off, and the seriousness of his tone changed to one of caressing tenderness. ‘But first I must know for certain, little star, shall CONMUC OOK (C@)