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  CHAPTER IX

  Scythrop grew every day more reserved, mysterious, and distrait; andgradually lengthened the duration of his diurnal seclusions in histower. Marionetta thought she perceived in all this very manifestsymptoms of a warm love cooling.

  It was seldom that she found herself alone with him in the morning,and, on these occasions, if she was silent in the hope of his speakingfirst, not a syllable would he utter; if she spoke to him indirectly,he assented monosyllabically; if she questioned him, his answerswere brief, constrained, and evasive. Still, though her spirits weredepressed, her playfulness had not so totally forsaken her, but thatit illuminated at intervals the gloom of Nightmare Abbey; and if, onany occasion, she observed in Scythrop tokens of unextinguished orreturning passion, her love of tormenting her lover immediately gotthe better both of her grief and her sympathy, though not of hercuriosity, which Scythrop seemed determined not to satisfy. Thisplayfulness, however, was in a great measure artificial, and usuallyvanished with the irritable Strephon, to whose annoyance it had beenexerted. The Genius Loci, the _tutela_ of Nightmare Abbey, thespirit of black melancholy, began to set his seal on her pallescentcountenance. Scythrop perceived the change, found his tendersympathies awakened, and did his utmost to comfort the afflicteddamsel, assuring her that his seeming inattention had only proceededfrom his being involved in a profound meditation on a very hopefulscheme for the regeneration of human society. Marionetta called himungrateful, cruel, cold-hearted, and accompanied her reproaches withmany sobs and tears; poor Scythrop growing every moment more softand submissive--till, at length, he threw himself at her feet, anddeclared that no competition of beauty, however dazzling, genius,however transcendent, talents, however cultivated, or philosophy,however enlightened, should ever make him renounce his divineMarionetta.

  'Competition!' thought Marionetta, and suddenly, with an air of themost freezing indifference, she said, 'You are perfectly at liberty,sir, to do as you please; I beg you will follow your own plans,without any reference to me.'

  Scythrop was confounded. What was become of all her passion and hertears? Still kneeling, he kissed her hand with rueful timidity, andsaid, in most pathetic accents, 'Do you not love me, Marionetta?'

  'No,' said Marionetta, with a look of cold composure: 'No.' Scythropstill looked up incredulously. 'No, I tell you.'

  'Oh! very well, madam,' said Scythrop, rising, 'if that is the case,there are those in the world--'

  'To be sure there are, sir;--and do you suppose I do not see throughyour designs, you ungenerous monster?'

  'My designs? Marionetta!'

  'Yes, your designs, Scythrop. You have come here to cast me off, andartfully contrive that it should appear to be my doing, and not yours,thinking to quiet your tender conscience with this pitiful stratagem.But do not suppose that you are of so much consequence to me: do notsuppose it: you are of no consequence to me at all--none at all:therefore, leave me: I renounce you: leave me; why do you not leaveme?'

  Scythrop endeavoured to remonstrate, but without success. Shereiterated her injunctions to him to leave her, till, in thesimplicity of his spirit, he was preparing to comply. When he hadnearly reached the door, Marionetta said, 'Farewell.' Scythrop lookedback. 'Farewell, Scythrop,' she repeated, 'you will never see meagain.'

  'Never see you again, Marionetta?'

  'I shall go from hence to-morrow, perhaps to-day; and before we meetagain, one of us will be married, and we might as well be dead, youknow, Scythrop.'

  The sudden change of her voice in the last few words, and the burstof tears that accompanied them, acted like electricity on thetender-hearted youth; and, in another instant, a completereconciliation was accomplished without the intervention of words.

  There are, indeed, some learned casuists, who maintain that love hasno language, and that all the misunderstandings and dissensions oflovers arise from the fatal habit of employing words on a subject towhich words are inapplicable; that love, beginning with looks, thatis to say, with the physiognomical expression of congenial mentaldispositions, tends through a regular gradation of signs and symbolsof affection, to that consummation which is most devoutly to bewished; and that it neither is necessary that there should be, norprobable that there would be, a single word spoken from first tolast between two sympathetic spirits, were it not that the arbitraryinstitutions of society have raised, at every step of this very simpleprocess, so many complicated impediments and barriers in the shapeof settlements and ceremonies, parents and guardians, lawyers,Jew-brokers, and parsons, that many an adventurous knight (who, inorder to obtain the conquest of the Hesperian fruit, is obliged tofight his way through all these monsters), is either repulsed at theonset, or vanquished before the achievement of his enterprise: andsuch a quantity of unnatural talking is rendered inevitably necessarythrough all the stages of the progression, that the tender andvolatile spirit of love often takes flight on the pinions of some ofthe [Greek: epea pteroenta], or _winged words_ which are pressed intohis service in despite of himself.

  At this conjuncture, Mr Glowry entered, and sitting down near them,said, 'I see how it is; and, as we are all sure to be miserable dowhat we may, there is no need of taking pains to make one another moreso; therefore, with God's blessing and mine, there'--joining theirhands as he spoke.

  Scythrop was not exactly prepared for this decisive step; but he couldonly stammer out, 'Really, sir, you are too good;' and Mr Glowrydeparted to bring Mr Hilary to ratify the act.

  Now, whatever truth there may be in the theory of love and language,of which we have so recently spoken, certain it is, that during MrGlowry's absence, which lasted half an hour, not a single word wassaid by either Scythrop or Marionetta.

  Mr Glowry returned with Mr Hilary, who was delighted at the prospectof so advantageous an establishment for his orphan niece, of whom heconsidered himself in some manner the guardian, and nothing remained,as Mr Glowry observed, but to fix the day.

  Marionetta blushed, and was silent. Scythrop was also silent for atime, and at length hesitatingly said, 'My dear sir, your goodnessoverpowers me; but really you are so precipitate.'

  Now, this remark, if the young lady had made it, would, whether shethought it or not--for sincerity is a thing of no account on theseoccasions, nor indeed on any other, according to Mr Flosky--thisremark, if the young lady had made it, would have been perfectly_comme il faut_; but, being made by the young gentleman, it was _touteautre chose_, and was, indeed, in the eyes of his mistress, a mostheinous and irremissible offence. Marionetta was angry, very angry,but she concealed her anger, and said, calmly and coldly, 'Certainly,you are much too precipitate, Mr Glowry. I assure you, sir, I haveby no means made up my mind; and, indeed, as far as I know it, itinclines the other way; but it will be quite time enough to think ofthese matters seven years hence. Before surprise permitted reply, theyoung lady had locked herself up in her own apartment.

  'Why, Scythrop,' said Mr Glowry, elongating his face exceedingly, 'thedevil is come among us sure enough, as Mr Toobad observes: I thoughtyou and Marionetta were both of a mind.'

  'So we are, I believe, sir,' said Scythrop, gloomily, and stalked awayto his tower.

  'Mr Glowry,' said Mr Hilary, 'I do not very well understand all this.'

  'Whims, brother Hilary,' said Mr Glowry; 'some little foolish lovequarrel, nothing more. Whims, freaks, April showers. They will beblown over by to-morrow.'

  'If not,' said Mr Hilary, 'these April showers have made us Aprilfools.'

  'Ah!' said Mr Glowry, 'you are a happy man, and in all yourafflictions you can console yourself with a joke, let it be ever sobad, provided you crack it yourself. I should be very happy to laughwith you, if it would give you any satisfaction; but, really, atpresent, my heart is so sad, that I find it impossible to levy acontribution on my muscles.'

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