He had entered upon it as a part of his
summer recreation, but had found himself playing with forces that
had well-nigh destroyed him as well as the subject of his fancied
skill. Hereafter he proposed to illumine faces with thought,
feeling, and spiritual beauty on canvas only, so that, in case he
should become discouraged or disgusted with his efforts and throw
the work aside, there might be no such tragic protest as Ida
Mayhew had almost offered. While he pitied, and now in a certain
sense respected her, she filled him with the uncomfortable dread
and nervous apprehension which rash and unbalanced natures always
inspire. The charge he had given Stanton revealed his opinion.
She was one who must be watched over, not with the tender care and
sympathy that he hoped to bestow on Jennie Burton, but with kind,
yet firm and wary vigilance, in order to prevent action dangerous
both to herself and others; and a heavy, anxious task he believed
such care would be.
His aim was not to heal the wounds he had made by a decided
manifestation of kindness and respect which should be as sincere
as possible in view of his knowledge of her faults; and if her
present good impulses were anything more than passing moods, to
encourage them, as far as he could, and then retire from the scene
as soon as circumstances permitted.
Pages:
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460