Delia

“ I know well your tongue that is as sharp as the sickle of the moon!
Delia: The character you will leave after you will be worse out and out than Herod's!
Damer: The devil upon the winds she is! That one was born into the world having the use of the bow and arrows!
Delia: You not to give fair play to your own, it is a pitiful ghost will appear in your image, questing and craving our prayers!
Damer: I know well what is your aim and your drift!
Delia: I say any man has a right to give thanks to the heavens, and he having decent people to will his means to, in place of people having no call to it. ”

“ Now, as Delia glanced about her at the Léopold Robert lithographs, the family daguerreotypes, the rosewood and mahogany, she understood that she was looking at the walls of her own grave.
The change had come on the day when Charlotte Lovell, cowering on that very lounge, had made her terrible avowal. Then for the first time Delia, with a kind of fearful exaltation, had heard the blind forces of life groping and crying underfoot. But on that day also she had known herself excluded from them, doomed to dwell among shadows. Life had passed her by, and left her with the Ralstons. ”

“ Delia came slowly from her place to where he had stood; slowly she drew her right glove off and with her bare hand timidly touched the marble chimneypiece; then her fingers fell to the spot where his had rested and she caressed the wreathed faun lightly. Her face was flushed and enthralled; fierce suppressed sobs rose in her throat; she stooped at last and set her lips to the cold marble, rested her cheek against it an instant, then drew herself erect, scarlet with shame. ”

“ Ah, Delia! dear, dear Delia! It is because I fancy I DO know something about you (not all, mind—no, no; no man knows that) .—Ah, my bride, my ringdove, my rose, my poppet—choose, in fact, whatever name you like—bulbul of my grove, fountain of my desert, sunshine of my darkling life, and joy of my dungeoned existence, it is because I DO know a little about you that I conclude to say nothing of that private closet, and keep my key in my pocket. You take away that closet key then, and the house key. You lock Delia in. You keep her out of harm's way and gadding, and so she never CAN be found out. ”

“ By the gate, bathed in the sunlight, stood little Delia, the waiting maid. She stood watching him under her hand. It suddenly came into the Angel's mind that she, at least, was beautiful, and not only beautiful but alive and warm. ”

“ The dark had come. The reach was as lonesome as any from Cairo to Mendova. The last Delia saw of him in the fading twilight that followed sunset was his side-long glances in the direction of her boat.
She lighted her lamp and after a little thinking she left the doors unlocked. She felt that the attack would come either from the bow or stern, and she thought that she would be able to escape if the opposite door was not fastened.
She waited, growing calm the while. The actual presence of the great danger for a river woman, especially for such a pretty girl as she was, seemed to calm her. ”

“ Gertrude Marvell came in, and as she gave him an absent greeting, he was vaguely struck by some change in her aspect, as Delia had long been. She had always seemed to him a cold half-human being, in all ordinary matters. But now she was paler, thinner, more remote than ever. "Nerves strained—probably sleepless—" he said to himself. "It's the pace they will live at—it kills them all." ”

“ A convinced opponent of "feminism" in all its forms, he had thought of Delia hitherto as merely a wrong-headed, foolish girl, and could hardly bring himself to be civil at all to her chaperon, who in his eyes belonged to a criminal society, and was almost certainly at that very moment engaged in criminal practices. But Delia, absorbed in the distresses of someone she cared for, all heart and eager sympathy, her loveliness lending that charm to all she said and looked which plainer women must so frequently do without was a very mollifying and ingratiating spectacle. ”

“ He sat up and gazed earnestly into the shadows where Delia sat; his plaid had fallen back and showed the rough hide coat underneath and the strong lines of his bare throat. Delia laughed.
"Whoever she was I think you love her, Macdonald," she said.
"I want her," he answered simply. "I want to look at her again, to touch her, to hear her. If she is a Campbell I hate her—yet I want her—and I cannot rest for this desire."
Delia stood up; there was a gleam of satin as she moved, a quick rustle; she had her hands on her bosom and they rose and fell very quickly. ”

“ Delia did not understand, but she realised that it was something very dreadful. "It is dark, it is cold," said the Angel; "I cannot use my wings."
It hurt her unaccountably to see the tears on his face. She did not know what to do.
"Pity me, Delia," said the Angel, suddenly extending his arms towards her; "pity me." ”

“ Damer: If I had not, why would I have been setting my mind upon eternity and striving to bring to mind a few prayers? And to have parted with my wicked dog?
Delia: Let you turn around till you will see before you the man that is the robber and the thief!
Simon: Thief yourself! You that had a plan made up to bring it away.
Damer: Delia, Delia, what was I laying down a while ago? It is the love of riches has twisted your heart and your mind. ”

“ The Cherub listens from his starry throne,
And motionless are stopt the attentive SPHERES,
To hear more heavenly music than their own.
Cease, Delia, cease! for all the ANGEL THRONG,
Hearkening to thee, let sleep their golden wires!
Cease, Delia, cease, that too surpassing song,
Lest, stung to envy, they should break their lyres.
Cease, ere my senses are to madness driven
By the strong joy! Cease, Delia, lest my soul,
Enrapt, already THINK ITSELF IN HEAVEN,
And burst the feeble Body's frail control.
[148]
Elegy III.
The Poet Expatiates on the Beauty of Delia's Hair. ”

“ My Goddess-Maid, my OMNIPRESENT FAIR,
For LOVE annihilates the world to me!
And when the weary Sol around his bed
Closes the SABLE CURTAINS of the night,
Sun of my slumbers, on my dazzled sight
She shines confest. When every sound is dead,
The SPIRIT OF HER VOICE comes then to roll
The surge of music o'er my wavy brain.
Far, far from her my Body drags its chain,
But sure with Delia I exist A SOUL! Sonnet IV.
The Poet expresses his Feelings respecting a Portrait in Delia's Parlour. ”

“ Delia had always known that she possessed a quantity of valuable things, and had hitherto felt but small interest in them. Gertrude's influence, and her own idealism had bred in her contempt for gauds. It was the worst of breeding to wear anything for its mere money value; and nothing whatever should be worn that wasn't in itself beautiful. Lady Blanchflower's taste had been, in Delia's eyes, abominable; and her diamonds,—tiaras, pendants and the rest—had absolutely nothing to recommend them but their sheer brute cost. After a few glances at them, the girl had shut them up and forgotten them. ”

“ And to say truth, the wisest philosopher might have joined in the verdict of the sage Bridget. There was a softness in the temper of Delia, that seemed particularly formed for the tender passion. The voice of misery never assailed her ear in vain. Her purse was always open to the orphan, the maimed, and the sick. After reading a tender tale of love, the intricacies of the Princess of Cleves, the soft distress of Sophia Western, or the more modern story of the Sorrows of Werter, her gentle breast would heave with sighs, and her eye, suffused with tears, confess a congenial spirit. ”

“ Delia gave one glance, then motioned it away with a gesture of horror.
“How like,” she said fearfully.
“How like whom?” asked Lady Dalrymple startled. “They are beautiful faces—are they not? Why do you turn away? I crave people to gaze on them—”
“They are like—Sir John,” faltered Delia with quivering lips. “It startled me—”
“Why—you have seen him?”
“Yes.”
Lady Dalrymple frowned. “I do not think they are so like,” she said, and shutting the case, put it back into her bosom.
Delia uttered a hard laugh.
“’Tis the same face,” she said cruelly. ”

“ Delia's hands slipped out of her muff and onto the stone beside her; her lips parted and her head sank back against the gray old wall; under her red coat her heart was heaving passionately.
Suddenly the singing grew louder; she heard the first outburst of the Cantate Domino:
"O sing unto the Lord a new song—for He hath done marvelous things."
She sat up and looked round; a man was entering the cloisters from the Abbey, as he closed the door behind him the singing sank again to faintness.
Delia sat upright, motionless, looking toward the new-comer; it was Mr. Wedderburn. ”

“ Delia, my heart hath learned out of those eyes.
[Pg 36]
XXI
If beauty thus be clouded with a frown,
That pity shines no comfort to my bliss,
And vapours of disdain so overgrown,
That my life's light wholly indarkened is,
Why should I more molest the world with cries,
The air with sighs, the earth below with tears,
Since I live hateful to those ruthful eyes,
Vexing with untuned moan her dainty ears! ”

“ Despite her held-taut composure Delia felt that a little start she gave had betrayed her secret—or enough of it to let the truth be known. Her heart ached when she thought of the young man who had unquestioningly done her bidding, not knowing what Pandora's Box she had left in his charge. ”

“ Then, as every eye hung upon the work of the firemen and the play of the water, into the still empty space of the Loggia, and illumined by the glare of the flames, there emerged with quiet step, the figure of a woman. She came forward: she stood with crossed arms looking at the crowd. And at the same moment, behind her, there appeared the form of a child, a little fair-haired girl, hobbling on a crutch, in desperate haste, and wailing—"Father!"
Delia saw them, and with one wild movement she was through the cordon of police, and running for the house. ”

“ Here they found a chariot ready waiting for them, into which Delia was immediately thrust. She now for the first time lifted up her eyes. The first object to which she attended was the faces of her ravishers. Of him who had been the most active, she had not the smallest recollection. The other who was in a livery, she imagined she had seen somewhere, though, in the present confusion of her mind, she could not fix upon the place. She next looked round her with wildness and eagerness, as far as her eye could reach, to see if there were no protector, no deliverance near. ”

“ What shall we ever get out of her as a married woman? What would Mark Winnington—to whom she will give herself, body and soul,—allow us to get out of her? Better break with her now, and disentangle my own life!"
With such thoughts, a pale and brooding woman pursued the now distant figure of Delia. At the same time Gertrude Marvell had no intention whatever of provoking a premature breach which might deprive either the Cause or herself of any help they might still obtain from Delia in the desperate fight immediately ahead. ”

“ He laughed gently.
"But this is no dream, sweetheart, do you not hear the anthem yonder in the church? And all around us the graves? There are no graves in dreams."
"Nor surely often such joy on earth," whispered Delia. "As mine—as mine—yet what have I said? Shame should hold me silent—but you have disarmed me and laid me defenseless at your feet—ah, leave me, for I have said too much!"
He laid his hand very lightly on her shoulder.
"You make mine unworthiness a heavy thing," he said somberly. "If you are sincere—Delia—"
She thought he doubted her, and her pure face paled and flushed. ”

“ Was it in her dream that some one in a blue and white apron—not Delia, for Delia was singing—leaned back slowly in the long basket chair and closed her tired eyes? Who was it that held the General close in her arms, and smiled as he patted her cheek at the familiar song and mumbled her fingers with happy cooing noises? ”

“ Delia, indeed, was again—and as usual—in revolt, against herself and circumstances. Why had she been such a fool as to come to Monk Lawrence at all, and then to submit to seeing it—on sufferance!—in Winnington's custody? And how he must be contrasting her with Susy Amberley!—the soft sister of charity, plying her womanly tasks, in the manner of all good women, since the world began! She saw herself as the anarchist prowling outside, tracked, spied on, held at arm's length by all decent citizens, all lovers of ancient beauty, and moral tradition ”

“ Later, the visit led to Delia's going as governess to the children of a Russian Princess, and finding herself in circles that might be described as not only fast but furious. Here we were in a fine atmosphere of intrigue, with spies, and Grand Dukes, and explosive golf balls and I don't know what beside. It is all capital fun; and, though I am afraid the political plots left me unconvinced, the thing is told with such ease and bonhomie that it is saved from banality; even when the amazing cat of the house-party turns up as a female bandit and tries to hold Delia and her Princess to ransom. ”

“ And Delia had cried bitterly, on her knees beside him—without a word—caressing his hand. And the cold fingers had been feebly withdrawn from hers as the eyes closed.
"Oh papa—papa!" The low murmur came from her, as she pressed her hands upon her eyes. If the Christian guesses were but true, and in some quiet Elysian state he might now understand, and cease to be angry with her! Was there ever a great cause won without setting kin against kin? "A man's foes shall be they of his own household." ”

“ You best can judge the wrongs that she hath done,
That she hath done, the motive of my pain,
Who whilst I love doth kill me with disdain.
[Pg 19]
IV
These plaintive verse, the posts of my desire,
Which haste for succour to her slow regard,
Bear not report of any slender fire,
Forging a grief to win a fame's reward.
Nor are my passions limned for outward hue,
For that no colours can depaint my sorrows;
Delia herself, and all the world may view
Best in my face where cares have tilled deep furrows. ”