Marie

“ With Marie I am safe. She is like a quiet summer evening, soothing and exciting at the same time. Sweet harmonies of peace fill one's soul, everything seems bright and lightsome, worries vanish from the brains like clearing mists, courage and hope expand the heart. When Marie laid her hand on my brow she swept away all my troubles, and life lay before me as on some quiet summer evening, rich in beauty and peace. Never has she set a nerve shrieking with pain or anger or disgust. ”

“ And, pray, what am I to do? Of course, I can act like Marie here all right, if that is what folks want. (I guess I have been doing it a good deal of the time, anyway, for I kept forgetting that I was Mary.) But I can't wear Marie, for I haven't a single Marie thing here. They're all Mary. That's all I brought.
Oh, dear suz me! Why couldn't Father and Mother have been just the common live-happy-ever-after kind, or else found out before they married that they were unlikes? ”

“ Marie had a loving and loyal heart, and returned the affection lavished on her with interest; and as she grew up to womanhood, she determined to repay her friends' kindness by serving them in the capacity of a vivandière. Nor was there ever a merrier or more light-hearted maiden than Marie, the vivandière; and she was toasted everywhere as the truest comrade, the gentlest nurse, and the tenderest of comforters in time of woe. ”

“ For now I can be Mary six months, then Marie six months, and not try to be them both all at once, with maybe only five minutes between them.
And I think I shall love both Father and Mother better separate, too. Of course I love Mother, and I know I'd just adore Father if he'd let me—he's so tall and fine and splendid, when he's out among folks. All the girls are simply crazy over him. And I am, too. Only, at home—well, it's so hard to be Mary always. ”

“ If Mother's going to want me to be Mary, and Father's going to want me to be Marie, how am I going to know what anybody wants, ever? Besides, it was getting to be such a beautiful love story—Father and Cousin Grace. ”

“ Do you think, Marie, that he will tell you all this for a small pourboire?"
"Please, madame, I have seen him already and he is a most charming gentleman. He has such a sweet smile and such lovely whiskers. I think if you will leave him to me, madame, I will find out all you want. You know I have my little ways with gentlemen."
"Marie, what do you mean? How dare you take liberties with men? And with cooks of all people! You ought to be ashamed of yourself. ”

“ What is the wonderful magic wand which changes the wild rose into a gorgeous La France? Marie, found again, had developed into a clever woman, who fully understood her own beauty, who knew how to express her personality in many a subtle variation. ”

“ THE LAY OF MARIE. CANTO FIRST. The guests are met, the feast is near,
But Marie does not yet appear!
And to her vacant seat on high
Is lifted many an anxious eye.
The splendid show, the sumptuous board,
The long details which feuds afford,
And discontent is prone to hold,
Absorb the factious and the cold;—
Absorb dull minds, who, in despair,
The standard grasp of worldly care,
Which none can quit who once adore—
They love, confide, and hope no more ”

“ MARY MARIE PREFACE WHICH EXPLAINS THINGS Father calls me Mary. Mother calls me Marie. Everybody else calls me
Mary Marie. The rest of my name is Anderson.
I'm thirteen years old, and I'm a cross-current and a contradiction. That is, Sarah says I'm that. ”

“ I know that Father says that Mother is always trying to make me a "Marie," and nothing else; and that Mother says she knows Father'll never be happy until he's made me into a stupid little "Mary," with never an atom of life of my own. And, do you know? it does seem sometimes, as if Mary and Marie were fighting inside of me, and I wonder which is going to beat. Funny, isn't it?
Father is president of the college now, and I don't know how many stars and comets and things he's discovered since the night the star and I were born together. ”

“ What power! what sweetness, filling his heart with rapture even while his spirit cried out against it! What voices, entreating, commanding, uplifting!
Nay, what was he saying? and who did not know that Satan could put on an angel's look when it pleased him? and if a look, why not a voice? When had a fiddle played godly tunes, chant or psalm? when did it do aught else but tempt the foolish to their folly, the wicked to their iniquity?
Mary! Mary! How lovely she was, in the faint gleams of light that fell about her, there in the dim old attic! He felt her beauty, almost, more than he saw it. ”

“ The only thing I have taken for myself, dear brother, is my happiness. I have taken Marie. For this I shall always be beholden to you, as the creature to the Creator. There will be in my life and in Marie's one day not less glorious than our wedding day—it will be the day when we hear that your heart has found its mate, that a woman loves you as you ought to be, and would be, loved. Do not forget that if you live for us, we also live for you. ”

“ Before, I used to know just when to be Mary, and when to be Marie—Mary with Father, Marie with Mother. Now I don't know at all. Why, they can't even seem to agree on that! I suppose it's just some more of that incompatibility business showing up even when they are apart. And poor me—I have to suffer for it. I'm beginning to see that the child does suffer—I mean the child of unlikes.
Now, look at me right now—about my clothes, for instance. (Of course clothes are a little thing, you may think; but I don't think anything's little that's always with you like clothes are!) ”

“ And again at the sacrifice of thy safety—perchance thy life! Marie, Marie! what hold has this young stranger upon thee that thou shouldest twice so peril thyself? Thy life is dearer to me than his—I cannot grant thy boon. ”

“ On my word, nothing—nothing but the name of the Princess Marie. When the world was younger, General, there was a large garden and a young schoolboy—he thought himself a man—and a little child and flowers. ”

“ Marie's suitor knew that Marie did not love him as surely as he knew that he loved her. Yet he did not release her. He was content with the crumbs that fell from her lover's table.
But the man who is 'content' is not a man.
Marie is the most fascinating woman in the world, and I love her, but were I to suspect that she dreamed of any greater happiness than to be mine, then I would leave her on the instant. ”

“ But besides this conception of love which Marie had simply found awaiting expression, when we turn to examine the stories somewhat in detail, we find legend and poetry, Eastern magic and Christian symbolism, mingled with strange ingenuity. Whence came all these divers threads which Marie has so dexterously interwoven? It is very difficult to tell whether we are wholly in a world of romance, accepted by her without question, or whether she had some understanding of the divers matters she touches upon, and shaped them into a new form to suit new hearers. ”

“ Marie was standing with her head bent down over her violin, in a pretty way she had. A light, slight figure, not short, yet with a look that spoke all of youth and morning grace. She wore a little blue gown, patched and faded, and dusty enough after her day's walk; her feet were dusty too, but slender and delicately shaped. ”

“ And Mary answered, "Yes, Father," polite and proper, as she should; but Marie inside was just chuckling with the joke of it all.
The next day I watched again at four for Father to come up the walk; and when he had come in I went down to the library. He was there in his pet seat before the fireplace. (Father always sits before the fireplace, whether there's a fire there or not. And sometimes he looks so funny sitting there, staring into those gray ashes just as if it was the liveliest kind of a fire he was watching.) ”

“ There was only one I always wished to enter my door, for she alone seemed ever fresh and new. There is only one with whom I would wish to live, for with her life takes on a golden meaning, a sunbright reality; there is only one I would wish to die with, for with her I know no fear. The name of my beloved is Marie. She is fairer than all other women. ”

“ Marie, a young girl without connections, intelligent and well-educated, and also simple and artless, whose desires would probably never be aggressive to the royal power, suited the queen-mother admirably. ”

“ Come, come, my girl, I don't want to cry, you know—"
"But you are crying, Germain! You are crying, too! Why should a man be ashamed to cry for his wife? Cry on, don't mind me! I share that grief with you!"
"You have a kind heart, Marie, and it does me good to weep with you. But put your feet near the fire; your skirts are all damp, too, poor little girl! Let me take your place by the child, and do you warm yourself better than that."
"I'm warm enough," said Marie; "if you want to sit down, take a corner of the cloak; I am very comfortable." ”

“ I love you in joy and in sorrow, on week-days and Sundays. You are the woman I will die with, but with whom I intend first to live a long, long time. Naturally I have been longing for the caresses of my dearest love, but still more have I been longing for all the rest that means you, your true heart, your pure thought, your gentle speech, your bright smile, which is my sun in the darkness, your faithful hand which gives me strength on the way.'
But as I tell Marie this, she bursts into tears, because she knows that I speak the truth, and because she is happy. ”

“ At first her tears fell sparingly, they forced their way in heavy drops, for Marie—with an effort which shook her whole body—fought to keep them back. But when at last she had to give up the struggle, they came rich and powerful as from a newly-opened spring.
From Marie I learned to understand that in tears there may be blissful healing for all wounds. Like a soft rain Marie's tears flowed soothingly over her burning despair and turned it into a gentle sorrow.
A sorrow so gentle that it even forgave the sinner whose hard heart was its cruel cause. ”

“ But then I didn't quite understand, not even when I looked at him, and saw the old understanding twinkle in his eyes.
"You mean—you thought I was coming as Marie, of course," I said then.
"Yes," he nodded.
"But I came as Mary."
"I see now that you did." He drew in his breath with a queer little catch to it; then he got up and walked up and down the piazza again. (Why do old folks always walk up and down the room like that when they're thinking hard about something? Father always does; and Mother does lots of times, too.) ”

“ Yes, a dream-vision she is, and Marie, herself, thinks she is dreaming. She looks around her in smiling bewilderment, and says she cannot understand that she is really here, she has not the faintest idea how she got away from the ball and her suitor—she only knows that she had my letter, and could not stay. ”

“ He says, in that poem, "And also Dame Marie, who turned into rhyme and made verses of 'Lays' which are not in the least true. For these she is much praised, and her rhyme is loved everywhere; for counts, barons, and knights greatly admire it, and hold it dear. And they love her writing so much, and take such pleasure in it, that they have it read, and often copied. These Lays are wont to please ladies, who listen to them with delight, for they are after their own hearts." ”

“ Of course, Marie, if you marry a man who is hard and who treats you badly, then—as a revenge—tell him that you have had a real lover, a lover who spoiled you in every possible way, and who taught you the joy of love. ”

“ A flower is beautiful, it cannot help being beautiful, but it does not know its own charm. Joyfully it unfolds its petals when the sun smiles upon it, but at any touch of the cold wind it shrinks up frightened and makes itself as tiny as it can. Marie was a girl who loved without knowing the art of love. ”

“ We lay hand in hand, each filled with our own thoughts, and staring open-eyed into the darkness. Your little warm hand, Marie, rested so cautiously in mine, it did not move at all, as if it feared to break the silence. It seemed to me as though we flew on great silent wings through space, far away from sorrow and pain, to a sphere where time is not, where reign the dreamless sleep and the darkness that knows no fears. ”

“ Out ran Marie to do her mother’s bidding, but at the door she saw an old bent man with a bundle of sticks on his back, and a wallet at his side. He was listening to the great hubbub [63] coming from the field where the princes were quarrelling.
“Hey day! where away so fast?” he asked, as Marie was running past him after having made him a deep curtsey.
“Mother sent me to stop that dreadful noise, but I know it will be hard work. They are growing more and more disagreeable every day.” ”

“ When one evening Marie undressed in front of the mirror there was the loathsome beast on her white neck.
XIMarie is as white and pure as any girl in the whole world. She has a fragrance sweeter than any flower. Her breath is pure, her whole body is without a fault. From head to foot she is sheer delight. She is one of those women who without shame can step before Nature's tribunal. She dare even show her feet. ”

“ In my silent lonely rooms, where the memory of Marie is everywhere, I have spent the time in telling the story of Marie as it is written in this book. It is not a novel artistically composed. It is only a bundle of loose leaves from a love-story for which only one art is necessary, that of being in love. It is a book about the way in which I learned that simple and yet so difficult art.
LVIIIMarie, my holy one! See! a sinner is kneeling at your feet and he asks nothing. He who could never ask enough wants nothing now but only to lie at your feet and look up into your lovely face. ”