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Sandra Belloni — Volume 3 by George Meredith
page 2 of 98 (02%)
Had she done so, she would have failed to catch Wilfrid, whose soul
thirsted for poetical refinement and filmy delicacies in a woman. What
she had, and what he knew that he wanted, and could only at intervals
assume by acting as if he possessed it, was a victorious aplomb, which
gave her a sort of gallant glory in his sight. He could act it well
before his sisters, and here and there a damsel; and coming fresh from
Lady Charlotte's school, he had recently done so with success, and had
seen the ladies feel toward him, as he felt under his instructress in the
art. Some nature, however, is required for every piece of art. Wilfrid
knew that he had been brutal in his representation of the part, and the
retrospect of his conduct at Brookfield did not satisfy his remorseless
critical judgement. In consequence, when he again saw Lady Charlotte,
his admiration of that one prized characteristic of hers paralyzed him.
She looked, and moved, and spoke, as if the earth were her own. She was
a note of true music, and he felt himself to be an indecisive chord;
capable ultimately of a splendid performance, it might be, but at present
crying out to be played upon. This is the condition of a man in harness,
whom witlings may call what they will. He is subjugated: not won. In
this state of subjugation he will joyfully sacrifice as much as a man in
love. For, having no consolatory sense of happiness, such as encircles
and makes a nest for lovers, he seeks to attain some stature, at least,
by excesses of apparent devotion. Lady Charlotte believed herself
beloved at last. She was about to strike thirty; and Rumour, stalking
with a turban of cloud on her head,--enough that this shocking old
celestial dowager, from condemnation had passed to pity of the dashing
lady. Beloved at last! After a while there is no question of our
loving; but we thirst for love, if we have not had it. The key of Lady
Charlotte will come in the course of events. She was at the doubtful
hour of her life, a warm-hearted woman, known to be so by few, generally
consigned by devout-visaged Scandal (for who save the devout will dare to
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