Oline

“ Beams settled with a tired sigh into their old mortices; creatures ticked in the walls; joints cracked, boards complained; with no palpable stirring of the air window-sashes changed their positions with a soft knock in their frames. And whether the place had life in this sense or not, it had at all events a winsome personality. It needed but an hour of musing for Oleron to conceive the idea that, as his own body stood in friendly relation to his soul, so, by an extension and an attenuation, his habitation might fantastically be supposed to stand in some relation to himself. ”

“ Dat's right, chile, I'll just mix you a little warm—"
"Oh, dear, no, Olly, thank you; its comfort enough just to be quiet and to be at home."
She left him in the parlour, but he pushed on after her into the great fire-lit kitchen, partly because he detested the society of his own thoughts, partly because it suited his present mood to be made much of by the kindly old woman, to whom his mother all her life had been a "chile." It was almost like being a boy again to sit in the chimney corner and tell old Olly the story of his journey in all its details. ”

“ So do we all when our Fair Ones beckon. Quite at the beginning we wink, and promise ourselves that we will put Her Ladyship through her paces, neglect her for a day, turn her own jealous wiles against her, flout and ignore her when she comes wheedling; perhaps there lurks within us all the time a heartless sprite who is never fooled; but in the end all falls away. She beckons, beckons, and all goes....
And so Oleron kept his strategic post within the frame of his bedroom door, and watched, and waited, and smiled, with his finger on his lips.... ”

“ How should men know her, this Fair One of Oleron's, until Oleron himself knew her? Lovely radiant creations are not thrown off like How-d'ye-do's. The men to whom it is committed to father them must weep wretched tears, as Oleron did, must swell with vain presumptuous hopes, as Oleron did, must pursue, as Oleron pursued, the capricious, fair, mocking, slippery, eager Spirit that, ever eluding, ever sees to it that the chase does not slacken. ”

“ And there’s dear little Milly, I remember her. But where’s Olly? I’ve never seen that small creature, you know. Come, Olly, don’t be shy. Little boys are never shy with Aunt Emma.”
“Except when they tumble into bogs,” said Mr. Norton, laughing and pulling Olly forward, who was trying to hide his mud-stockings behind his mother. “There’s a clean tidy boy to bring to dinner, isn’t he, Aunt Emma? I think I’ll take him to the yard and pump on him a little before we bring him in.”
Aunt Emma put up her spectacles to look at Olly.
“Why, Olly, I think Mother Quiverquake has been catching hold of you. ”

“ Mrs. Barrett usually tapped, not at his door, but at the wooden wall beyond which lay Oleron's bed; and then Oleron rose, put on his dressing-gown, and admitted her. He was not conscious that as he did so that morning he hummed an air; but Mrs. Barrett lingered with her hand on the door-knob and her face a little averted and smiling.
"De-ar me!" her soft falsetto rose. "But that will be a very o-ald tune, Mr. Oleron! ”

“ A man stands waiting just within the shadow. But see! a girl's light figure moves out from the side doorway and joins him. A strange calmness comes over me, although I see in the clear moonlight that it is Oolie. They walk off down the old garden path, and I can not turn my eyes or ears away if I would. Now she speaks brokenly, and I even hear her say, "It is a living death," and they pass on. I do not hear Arthur Lee's words, deep and full-toned as they are. ”

“ The coverlets bore an impress as if somebody had lain on them. Oleron could not remember that he himself had lain down during the day—off-hand, he would have said that certainly he had not; but after all he could not be positive. His indignation for Elsie, acting possibly with the residue of the brandy in him, excluded all other considerations; and he put out his candle, lay down, and passed immediately into a deep and dreamless sleep, which, in the absence of Mrs. Barrett's morning call, lasted almost once round the clock. ”

“ Can you tell stories, Aunt Emma?”
“Tell us about old Mother Quiverquake,” cried Olly, running up and climbing on his aunt’s knee.
“Oh dear, no!” said Aunt Emma; “it’s much too fine to-day for stories—indoors, at any rate. Wait till we get a real wet day, and then we’ll see. After dinner to-day, what do you think we’re going to do? Suppose we have a row on the lake to get water-lilies, and suppose we take a kettle and make ourselves some tea on the other side of the lake. What would you say to that, Master Olly?” ”

“ And then came Stafford; and Milly looked out for the castle, and wondered whether the castles in her story-books looked like that, and whether princesses and fairy godmothers and giants ever lived there in old times.
After they had left Stafford, Olly began to get tired and fidgety. First he went to sit on his father’s knee, then on mother’s, then on nurse’s—none of them could keep him still, and nothing seemed to amuse him for long together.
“Come and have a sleep, Master Olly,” said nurse. “You are just tired and hot. This is a long way for little boys, and we’ve got ever so far to go yet.” ”

“ I hear John Austin's heavy step go to and fro on the gravel-walk for two long hours, and then the girl's light step is falling there, too.
What is the sorrow of this household? What shadow is in the depth of Oolie's great solemn, beautiful eyes? What trouble bows this strong man so? ”

“ Oleron smothered a low laugh. It somehow amused him that she, in such danger herself, should talk to him of his danger!... Well, if she was, serve her right; she knew, or said she knew, all about it....
"Paul!... Paul!..."
"Paul!... Paul!..." He mimicked her under his breath.
"Oh, Paul, it's horrible!..."
Horrible, was it? thought Oleron. Then let her get away....
"I only want to help you, Paul.... I didn't promise not to come if you needed me...."
He was impervious to the pitiful sob that interrupted the low cry. The devil take the woman! Should he shout to her to go away and not come back? ”

“ Nurse and Milly always left him alone till he was quite woke up. It made him cross if you began to talk to him too soon.
“Milly,” said Olly presently, in a sleepy voice, “I’m going right up the mountains after breakfast. Aren’t you?”
“Wait till you see them, Master Olly,” said nurse, taking him up and kissing him, “perhaps your little legs won’t find it quite so easy to climb up the mountains as you think.”
“I can climb up three, four, six, seven mountains,” said Olly stoutly; “mountains aren’t a bit hard. Mother says they’re meant to climb up.” ”

“ Olwen lingered, after his departure, in the glowing warmth of the hearth. She curled herself up beside Daffodil on the rug, and gave herself the treat of reading Grace's letter.
"Two such contradictory accounts as you have given me in the last few days I never read," wrote her friend. "What a place this Pele must be! And what deplorable people for the likes of you to have to live with! The only point that gives me any hope at all is that you seem, even in your second letter, to have made up your mind not to stay. ”

“ All the time, he thought how exceedingly lucky he was to get the place. He put up a hat-rack in the little square hall, and hung up his hats and caps and coats; and passers through the small triangular square late at night, looking up over the little serried row of wooden "To Let" hatchets, could see the light within Oleron's red blinds, or else the sudden darkening of one blind and the illumination of another, as Oleron, candlestick in hand, passed from room to room, making final settlings of his furniture, or preparing to resume the work that his removal had interrupted. ”

“ Oolie has a fine voice and sings in the village church every Sunday. The druggist's clerk whom I saw in town is the basso of the choir, and seems to feel it incumbent upon him to accompany the girl home. He is rather good-looking; but I think I had better go to the choir meetings myself to bring her home, as she might take a fancy to this Mr. Lee and she is quite too young to be thinking of these things—quite too young. Not that I am so very old either, twenty-six—that would not sound old in speaking of any one else. I suppose that it seems very old to Oolie. ”

“ Oleron simply couldn't be bothered. He had his work to do. On the morrow, he must set about the writing of a novel with a heroine so winsome, capricious, adorable, jealous, wicked, beautiful, inflaming, and altogether evil, that men should stand amazed. ”

“ To have done so wouldn't have altered matters, and it might have depressed Oleron. He had chosen his path, and was committed to it beyond possibility of withdrawal. Perhaps he had chosen it in the days when he had been easily swayed by something a little disinterested, a little generous, a little noble; and had he ever thought of questioning himself he would still have held to it that a life without nobility and generosity and disinterestedness was no life for him. ”

“ I only see Oolie at rare intervals, and she is as cool as ever. She does not know—the little owlet—that I hold the memory of that fluttering kiss. But why can I not lure her to my side again? Mrs. Austin seems more melancholy and retired than ever, but is most undoubtedly anxious that I should care for Oolie, and perhaps this acting on her sensitive nature makes an involuntary revolt. ”

“ It was from the man Barrett, and it informed Oleron that he, Barrett, would be obliged if Mr. Oleron would make other arrangements for the preparing of his breakfasts and the cleaning-out of his place. The sting lay in the tail, that is to say, the postscript. This consisted of a text of Scripture. It embodied an allusion that could only be to Elsie Bengough....
A seldom-seen frown had cut deeply into Oleron's brow. So! That was it! Very well; they would see about that on the morrow.... For the rest, this seemed merely another reason why Elsie should keep away.... ”

“ The square outside had its own noises, frequent and new, and Oleron could only hope that he would speedily become accustomed to these. First came hawkers, with their carts and cries; at midday the children, returning from school, trooped into the square and swung on Oleron's gate; and when the children had departed again for afternoon school, an itinerant musician with a mandolin posted himself beneath Oleron's window and began to strum. This was a not unpleasant distraction, and Oleron, pushing up his window, threw the man a penny. ”

“ Bartol replied with a smile.
"They are not especially well chosen. I fear you'll find them a mixed lot. I read nothing but law in the city—here I indulge my fancy. You'll wonder what my principle of selection is, and, if you ask me, I must answer—I haven't any. I buy whatever commends itself to me at the moment. One thing leads to another—romance to history, history to poetry, poetry to the drama, and so on." He greeted a very tidy maid who entered the room. "Good-evening, Marie. This is Mrs. Ollnee, and this is her son, Mr. Victor Ollnee. ”

“ Norton, “and they’re always looking out for little children, particularly little girls.”
“I don’t understand, father,” said Milly, opening her eyes very wide.
“Have some more tea, then,” said Mr. Norton, “that always makes people feel wiser.”
“Father, aren’t you talking nonsense?” said Olly, stopping in the middle of a piece of cake to think about what his father was saying.
“Very likely, Olly. People always do at picnics. Aunt Emma, when are you going to tell us your story?” ”

“ Yours, my dear friend,
W. C.
TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN. Olney, July 3, 1786.
My dear William,—After a long silence I begin again. A day given to my friends is a day taken from Homer; but to such an interruption now and then occurring I have no objection. Lady Hesketh is, as you observe, arrived, and has been with us near a fortnight. She pleases every body, and is pleased, in her turn, with every thing she finds at Olney, is always cheerful and sweet-tempered, and knows no pleasure equal to that of communicating pleasure to us and to all around her. ”

“ The lost must remain lost. Humanity has other business to attend to.
For the handwriting of the two letters that Oleron, stealing noiselessly one June day into his kitchen to rid his sitting-room of an armful of fetid and decaying flowers, had seen on the floor within his door, had had no more meaning for him than if it had belonged to some dim and faraway dream. ”

“ OLIVIA. A threat? Oh no, George.
GEORGE. Then what does it mean?
OLIVIA. I'm just wondering if you love me as much as Brian loves Dinah. You do love me?
GEORGE (from his heart) . You know I do, old girl. (He comes to her.)
OLIVIA. You're not just attracted by my pretty face? . . . Is it a pretty face?
GEORGE. It's an adorable one. (He tries to kiss it, but she turns away.)
OLIVIA. How can I be sure that it is not only my face which makes you think that you care for me? Love which rests upon a mere outward attraction cannot lead to any lasting happiness—as one of our thinkers has observed. ”

“ Oleron had returned wrathfully to his own house, and thenceforward, looking out of his windows, had seen Barrett's face at odd times, lifting blinds or peering round curtains, as if he sought to put himself in possession of Heaven knew what evidence, in case it should be required of him. ”