I told her that part of my story which dealt with Aurelia's
perfections and my own disastrous imperfections; I made her understand
that I was not the inexperienced man she had thought me; rather, I was
one with two examples ever before him--one shining with the pure
effulgence of Heaven, the other harsh, staring, horrible, like some
baleful fire at sea. "Ah, Virginia," I concluded, "you must not misjudge
me. It is a sinner who speaks to you, not a saint removed too far to
help you. A sinner indeed am I, yet not utterly lost. I have a guide, a
hope, a haven; I have a light whereby I may steer my poor barque.
Aurelia Lanfranchi--no! let me call her by her own name--Aurelia
Gualandi will save my soul alive. Oh, let her example be yours--and her
excellence your means of excellence!"
Virginia, I say, was struck by these moving words of mine. She hung her
head and seemed sunk in thought.
"I know nothing of this lady, nor of her nation," she said, more gently
than before, "but what you say of her pleases me very much. Evidently
you love her, and she you. But you must allow me to tell you now, what I
was timid to say before, that she showed much good sense in putting you
in the cupboard, and you remarkably little in jumping out of it. Half an
hour more cupboard and your learned doctor had been asleep. Next day you
could have made your plans with your lady. She would have rewarded you:
but so she would if, when she invited you to accompany her, you had
offered her your arm and put on your hat.
Pages:
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131