Phyllis of Philistia [28]
seem hard," said Courtland. "But it's plain that the case calls for persecution, and why not persecute you? Someone must be persecuted, you'll admit."
"Then why the--"
"I thought that your good old Bunyip would look in on us before long," said Courtland. "There's no possibility of discussing delicate points in theology without him."
"I think we had better go home," said Ella.
"We must have some consideration for our host," said Courtland. "We didn't all play the part of /Cagliostro/ to-night."
During the movement of her circle and the adjustment of wraps, preparatory to the delivery of a valedictory word of congratulation to the great actor, Ella said in a low tone to Herbert Courtland:
"Cagliostro? No; we didn't all play the part; but--well, Cagliostro was a weaver of spells."
There was a pause before he said:
"Yes, but the art did not die with him. He had a daughter to whom he taught his art."
"Not that I ever heard of," said she. "What do you think of Phyllis Ayrton?"
"I think that she is the dearest friend of my dearest friend," he replied.
"And I should like her to become the dearest friend of my dearest friend."
"That would be impossible," he said.
Then the felicitous valedictory word was said to the great actor and actress, and Mrs. Linton's carriage received Phyllis. Lord Earlscourt took a seat in Mr. Courtland's hansom.
"What do you think about Mr. Courtland?" inquired Ella of her dearest friend, as they lay back with their heads very close together.
There was a long pause before Phyllis replied:
"I really don't know what I think about him. He is, I suppose, the bravest man alive at present."
"What? Is that the result of your half hour's chat with him?"
"Oh, dear, no! but all the same, it's pleasant for a girl to feel that she has been talking to a brave man. It gives one a sense of--of--is it of being quite safe?"
"Good gracious, no! just the opposite--that is---- Oh, you don't understand."
"No, I don't."
"Never mind. Tell me what he talked about?"
"Oh, everything! God."
"I know that it was in the air. He has ideas, I believe. He never talked on that topic to me. I hope you found him to be quite sound, theologically."
"But it seems rather funny, doesn't it?" said Phyllis; "but I really don't think that when I was listening to him I considered for a moment whether he was sound or the opposite in his views."
"Funny? It would have been rather funny if you had done that," laughed Ella. "The question that a healthy girl--and you are a healthy girl, Phyllis--asks herself after talking to such a man as Herbert Courtland is not, Is his theology sound? What healthy girl cares the fraction of a farthing about the theology of a man with a face like Herbert Courtland's and arms like Herbert Courtland's? You talked with him for half an hour, and then come to me and say that you suppose he is the bravest man alive in the world. That was right--quite right. That is just what every healthy girl should say. We understand a man's thews and sinews; we likewise understand what bravery in a man is, but what do we know, or, for that matter, care about his theology, whether it is sound or the opposite? Nothing. We don't even care whether he has any theology or not."
"Good gracious, Ella! one would fancy that you thought----"
"Thought what?"
"I don't quite know. You see I met Mr. Courtland quite casually, just as I met a dozen men at various places during the week. Why should you question me more closely about him than about the dozen other men? He only talked a little more widely, and perhaps wildly. His bravery is no more to me than his theology."
"Of course it isn't, Phyllis. But there was the case of George Holland--"
"That is very different, Ella. I had engaged myself to marry George Holland. It would be impossible for me to marry any man who had shown his contempt for--for everything that I regard as sacred."
"I believe it would, if you didn't love that man. But if you loved the man---- Oh, when you come to know what it means to love you
"Then why the--"
"I thought that your good old Bunyip would look in on us before long," said Courtland. "There's no possibility of discussing delicate points in theology without him."
"I think we had better go home," said Ella.
"We must have some consideration for our host," said Courtland. "We didn't all play the part of /Cagliostro/ to-night."
During the movement of her circle and the adjustment of wraps, preparatory to the delivery of a valedictory word of congratulation to the great actor, Ella said in a low tone to Herbert Courtland:
"Cagliostro? No; we didn't all play the part; but--well, Cagliostro was a weaver of spells."
There was a pause before he said:
"Yes, but the art did not die with him. He had a daughter to whom he taught his art."
"Not that I ever heard of," said she. "What do you think of Phyllis Ayrton?"
"I think that she is the dearest friend of my dearest friend," he replied.
"And I should like her to become the dearest friend of my dearest friend."
"That would be impossible," he said.
Then the felicitous valedictory word was said to the great actor and actress, and Mrs. Linton's carriage received Phyllis. Lord Earlscourt took a seat in Mr. Courtland's hansom.
"What do you think about Mr. Courtland?" inquired Ella of her dearest friend, as they lay back with their heads very close together.
There was a long pause before Phyllis replied:
"I really don't know what I think about him. He is, I suppose, the bravest man alive at present."
"What? Is that the result of your half hour's chat with him?"
"Oh, dear, no! but all the same, it's pleasant for a girl to feel that she has been talking to a brave man. It gives one a sense of--of--is it of being quite safe?"
"Good gracious, no! just the opposite--that is---- Oh, you don't understand."
"No, I don't."
"Never mind. Tell me what he talked about?"
"Oh, everything! God."
"I know that it was in the air. He has ideas, I believe. He never talked on that topic to me. I hope you found him to be quite sound, theologically."
"But it seems rather funny, doesn't it?" said Phyllis; "but I really don't think that when I was listening to him I considered for a moment whether he was sound or the opposite in his views."
"Funny? It would have been rather funny if you had done that," laughed Ella. "The question that a healthy girl--and you are a healthy girl, Phyllis--asks herself after talking to such a man as Herbert Courtland is not, Is his theology sound? What healthy girl cares the fraction of a farthing about the theology of a man with a face like Herbert Courtland's and arms like Herbert Courtland's? You talked with him for half an hour, and then come to me and say that you suppose he is the bravest man alive in the world. That was right--quite right. That is just what every healthy girl should say. We understand a man's thews and sinews; we likewise understand what bravery in a man is, but what do we know, or, for that matter, care about his theology, whether it is sound or the opposite? Nothing. We don't even care whether he has any theology or not."
"Good gracious, Ella! one would fancy that you thought----"
"Thought what?"
"I don't quite know. You see I met Mr. Courtland quite casually, just as I met a dozen men at various places during the week. Why should you question me more closely about him than about the dozen other men? He only talked a little more widely, and perhaps wildly. His bravery is no more to me than his theology."
"Of course it isn't, Phyllis. But there was the case of George Holland--"
"That is very different, Ella. I had engaged myself to marry George Holland. It would be impossible for me to marry any man who had shown his contempt for--for everything that I regard as sacred."
"I believe it would, if you didn't love that man. But if you loved the man---- Oh, when you come to know what it means to love you