Viola

“ Can't you see that my devotion for her remains, and that my regard for Viola is no treason to the dead? Adele will understand how vital, how necessary, Viola is to me, for does she not know that I could not even communicate with her if Viola went away? I do not love Viola as a boy loves, but as a man who understands himself and her—as one who understands her duties. It is a different love, but it is just as true, and it is high and holy. Without her I would have gone mad. She saved me from despair. Her union with me will make her an evangel to the earth-bound millions. ”

“ Viola trembled as she tapped at the door, which was instantly opened; and a voice bade her enter. She obeyed, and the piteous tones of the maniac followed her, still petitioning for admittance once more.
“What would you with me, maiden?” said a tall woman, clad fantastically in black.
Viola was silent, between shame and fear.
“Speak boldly, and fear not. Would you know whether your lover is true or false? Do you wish to see him as he now is—or is it the bridegroom fate has in store for you that you would gaze on? Walfrida has power to show you all, any of these.” ”

“ Owning a handsome studio on a fashionable street, he trifled with art in a dilettante way, and devoted the most of his time to society.
He met Viola at a reception, and in due course of time, to quote an envious rival, “his scalp dangled, with dozens of others, at her belt.” In return he caught her fancy, and the flirtation became pronounced. In it she found a spice of delicious tenderness, a subtle attraction that she took for love.
He begged to paint Viola’s portrait, and accompanied by her chaperon—a good-natured old aunt—she gave him several sittings. ”

“ The tenderness sank into Viola’s heart, so hungry for pity and sympathy.
She sighed heavily, and walked along by his side in silence a few minutes, without thinking how strange her position was—walking at this time of night with Rolfe Maxwell, her father’s employe, and almost a stranger to herself.
In the distraught state of her mind nothing seemed strange or out of the way now.
The man’s gentleness and sympathy stole like balm into her aching heart and melted it, where coldness and blame would have steeled it into pride and anger. ”

“ Viola was touched by his humility—so touched that her voice trembled as she twined her white fingers nervously together, replying:
“It is best to be frank with you, is it not? Then believe me, I bear you no resentment for that eventful night, and I do not wish to punish you for anything—least of all for what you did that night, because—because—everything turned out for the best.” ”

“ But when death so soon snapped that bond, I resolved to try my fate again, holding myself loyally bound to her if she cared to take me. I still loved her madly until—those days when you gave me the sittings for your portrait, when I found my allegiance wavering under the spell of your charms, until I saw that to be true to Viola I must avoid you. I did so until her year of widowhood was so nearly ended that I thought I might propose without giving offense. ”

“ CHAPTER XXXVI. STARTLING NEWS.
Viola paused with quivering lips, the tears hanging heavily on the curling fringe of her long black lashes. How beautiful, how unattainable, she looked to the man who had loved and lost her in so strange a fashion, who had only himself to blame for the thorn in his heart!
A long, labored sigh heaved his breast, and smote reproachfully on her ears.
She murmured, faintly:
“Is there not some one else you can love? Florian soon found consolation.”
“I am not Florian. There will never be any one else for me to love but you, Viola. ”

“ Amid raining tears Viola made a selection, then rose to go, begging Mae to accompany her for a short drive.
The young girl hesitated, then looked inquiringly at her aunt.
“Go, dear; it will do you good,” Mrs. Maxwell answered, encouragingly, for Viola’s fascination had already fallen over both. She was queen of hearts still, in all her woe. ”

“ Behind this flippant announcement lay a thrilling romance of beauty, coquetry, love, and pride that may interest the amiable reader whose heart is yet young and warm enough to admire the good traits, excuse the follies, and sympathize with the dire misfortunes of a beautiful, thoughtless young girl.
If there was any excuse in the world for what Viola did, it lay in her youth and her thoughtlessness, and because she did not understand at all what a terrible force love is at its best or worst. ”

“ Oh, Philip, can that be a crime in your eyes?”
“Not that, Viola, but your deceit. When I asked you to marry me, why did you not confess your previous engagement, and tell me you would ask Florian to release you? That would have been the honest way, and my love could have forgiven that much, but this treachery never!”
“Philip!” incredulously, holding out her beautiful arms imploringly, her streaming eyes upturned in prayerful entreaty.
But her love, her penitence, and her beauty did not move the honest heart of her outraged lover to forgiveness. ”

“ Maxwell, working diligently among her father’s books, lifted his dark, finely shaped head to listen, and the voice sounded to him like an angel’s, it was so clear and sweet.
“It is Miss Van Lew, I suppose. How rarely she is gifted—queen of song and love and beauty!” he thought; for although he was a stranger to Viola, he had seen her more than once, and the story of her coquetry had reached his ears. ”

“ Her voice broke in tears at the pathetic picture, poor Viola, who had always loved life so dearly and thought it so beautiful, though for one mad moment she had been tempted to cast it away.
[Pg 154]
Judge Van Lew would not give way to weakness. He answered, gruffly:
“I am weeping over you now in my heart, Viola, over the wreck you have made of your life.”
“Do not say so,” she answered, bravely. “It is not so bad, papa. Is he not very handsome and clever? And he has shown himself most noble. Why, if I cast him off now I should be the most ungrateful girl in the world!” ”

“ What beautiful propriety in the distinction drawn between Rosalind and Viola! The wild sweetness, the frolic humor which sports free and unblamed amid the shades of Ardennes, would ill become Viola, whose playfulness is assumed as part of her disguise as a court-page, and is guarded by the strictest delicacy. She has not, like Rosalind, a saucy enjoyment in her own incognito; her disguise does not sit so easily upon her; her heart does not beat freely under it. ”

“ The light had grown dim, the fire had burned hollow. Viola had dropped to her knees, and was for the moment a huddled blot of whiteness amongst the crimson tones. I advanced, filled with self-reproach for my selfish absorption. But she rose almost directly, wrapped in some of the muslin, and walked from the dais to the screen. I hesitated to follow her there, and went back to the fallen picture. I picked it up and gazed on it with rapture—how perfect it was! The best thing of a lifetime! Viola seemed so long behind the screen I grew anxious and walked over to it. ”

“ Florian took up the brush obediently, but his hand was unsteady with the hot throbbings of his jealous heart. He longed to kiss her now that she had granted him that sweet, tender smile, but she seldom permitted a caress, she was so proudly coy.
“Ah, Viola, how hard it is to paint you! Such beauty can not be transferred to canvas!” he sighed. “I am getting out of heart with my work, and the poet’s lines, ‘In an Atelier,’ often occur to me. ”

“ My father had a daughter loved a man, as I perhaps, were I a woman, should love your lordship."—"And what is her history?" said Orsino. "A blank, my lord," replied Viola: "she never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow melancholy, she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at Grief." The duke inquired if this lady died of her love, but to this question Viola returned an evasive answer ”

“ Viola took out the fine cabinet photograph of Rolfe Maxwell and handed it to him in silent emotion, while both men gazed with interest at the handsome rival who had seized the prize they had let slip from their grasp.
Florian’s heart throbbed with keen jealousy of the dead man, and Desha uttered a cry of recognition and surprise.
“What is it?” cried Viola, turning eagerly to him; and he answered:
“I thought I had never seen the man you married, but I recognized him instantly as the young man who saved your life the day you skated through the ice. But of course he told you?” ”

“ In Viola and Perdita the distinguishing traits are the same—sentiment and elegance; thus we associate them together, though nothing can be more distinct to the fancy than the Doric grace of Perdita, compared to the romantic sweetness of Viola. They are created out of the same materials, and are equal to each other in the tenderness, delicacy, and poetical beauty of the conception. They are both more imaginative than passionate ”

“ An hour later her father was en route for New York, eagerly interested in his mission, and most anxious to do all he could to restore peace and happiness to Viola’s heart.
As for her, she could not sleep for hours. She spent the night reclining on a low couch drawn near to Rolfe’s portrait, where her eyes could rest on it every time they opened from wakeful dozing.
“Oh, is it true—is it true, my darling? Do you really live?” she cried over and over to the silent portrait, whose dark eyes seemed to rest on her in passionate love. ”

“ I watched her in a fierce, jealous anger, almost as I might have done seeing her caressed by another lover, she was so wonderfully happy, so independent of me, so unconscious of me; but man loves that which is above him, difficult to obtain, hard to pursue. We cannot help it. We are made to be hunters, and I felt I loved Viola then with fresh passion. ”

“ Viola was just twenty, but this kind of training had given her an intelligence and developed her intellect far beyond her years.
In her outlook upon life she was more like a man than a woman, and, never having been to school nor mixed much with other girls of her own age, she was free from all those small, petty habits of mind, that littleness of mental vision that so mars and dwarfs the ordinary feminine character. ”

“ Viola loved his wife too warmly to be deceived by her seeming calmness; his keen eye found the traces of secret tears upon her face; he understood her wordless woe, and his heart was a prey to the bitterness of sorrow. To love, to see [Pg 201] the loved one suffering, and to feel that we cannot do any thing to lessen her grief, is a bitter feeling indeed; and Viola felt as if fate had saved his life, only for him to drain the cup of misfortune to the very dregs.
"Wretched man that I am!" cried he, as he stood alone on the heath; "after all my sufferings, must I live to see this day? ”

“ She did not guess how his heart beat as he answered:
“I could be your lover, too, Miss Van Lew, but fate is against me. You seem to need a friend. Let me hold that precious place.”
They walked slowly along the street, her trembling hand drawn through his arm. In spite of all her trouble Viola could not help seeing how tall and handsome [Pg 111] he was, with glorious dark eyes that had given her a strange, delicious thrill every time she met their earnest glance.
She had a subtle feeling that here was a true heart—one to rest on and confide in, sure of pity and sympathy. ”

“ Share my fate now and forever,—my pride, my delight, my ideal! Thou shalt inspire my canvas and my song; thy beauty shall be made at once holy and renowned. In the galleries of princes, crowds shall gather round the effigy of a Venus or a Saint, and a whisper shall break forth, ‘It is Viola Pisani!’ Ah! Viola, I adore thee; tell me that I do not worship in vain. ”

“ Until this moment Viola had been so absorbed in her revenge that she had scarcely given a thought to the man she had married.
Yet he, gently and unobtrusively, had considered everything, planned everything, that her treasured vengeance need not go awry, while at the same time she need not pay too dear a price for the victory. Loving her with all the strong passion of manhood, he would not force his love on her sore heart. He would be patient and bide his time, though not concealing the tenderness of his hope. ”

“ Viola drew herself away, and wept yet more passionately.
“This Englishman is of thine own years, not far above thine own rank. Thou mayst share his thoughts in life,—thou mayst sleep beside him in the same grave in death! And I—but THAT view of the future should concern us not. Look into thy heart, and thou wilt see that till again my shadow crossed thy path, there had grown up for this thine equal a pure and calm affection that would have ripened into love. Hast thou never pictured to thyself a home in which thy partner was thy young wooer?” ”

“ It always bored Viola to do what her family did, and what her family, just because they did it, expected her to do. And somehow, in the long hours spent in the Cathedral Close, she had acquired a taste for what she called "literature," what she innocently believed to be literature. She was of an engaging innocence in this respect; so that typing authors' manuscripts appealed to her as a vocation that combined one of the highest forms of cerebral activity with I don't know what glamour of romantic adventure.
Her enthusiasm, her veneration for the written word made her an admirable typist. ”

“ When Viola made her second visit to Olivia, she found no difficulty in gaining access to her. Servants soon discover when their ladies delight to converse with handsome young messengers; and the instant Viola arrived, the gates were thrown wide open, and the duke's page was shown into Olivia's apartment with great respect; and when Viola told Olivia that she was come once more to plead in her lord's behalf, this lady said, "I desired you never to speak of him again; but if you would undertake another suit, I had rather hear you solicit, than music from the spheres." ”