The Deerslayer (Barnes & Noble Classics) - James Fenimore Cooper [241]
“This is so true, Deerslayer, that I am surprised you should think it remarkable a girl, who may have some comeliness herself, should not think it necessary that her husband should have the same advantage, or what you fancy an advantage. To me, looks in a man is nothing provided his countenance be as honest as his heart.”
“Yes, honesty is a great advantage, in the long run; and they that are the most apt to forget it in the beginning, are the most apt to l’arn it in the ind. Nevertheless, there’s more, Judith, that look to present profit than to the benefit that is to come after a time. One they think a sartainty, and the other an onsartainty I’m glad, howsever, that you look at the thing in its true light, and not in the way in which so many is apt to deceive themselves.”
“I do thus look at it, Deerslayer,” returned the girl with emphasis, still shrinking with a woman’s sensitiveness from a direct offer of her hand, “and can say, from the bottom of my heart, that I would rather trust my happiness to a man whose truth and feelings may be depended on, than to a falsetongued and falsehearted wretch that had chests of gold, and houses and lands—yes, though he were even seated on a throne!”
“These are brave words, Judith; they’re downright brave words; but do you think that the feelin’s would keep ‘em company, did the ch’ice actually lie afore you? If a gay gallant in a scarlet coat stood on one side, with his head smelling like a deer’s foot, his face smooth and blooming as your own, his hands as white and soft as if God hadn’t bestowed ‘em that man might live by the sweat of his brow, and his step as lofty as dancing teachers and a light heart could make it; and the other side stood one that has passed his days in the open air till his forehead is as red as his cheek; had cut his way through swamps and bushes till his hand was as rugged as the oaks he slept under; had trodden on the scent of game till his step was as stealthy as the catamount’s, and had no other pleasant odor about him than such as natur’ gives in the free air and the forest—now, if both these men stood here, as suitors for your feelin’s, which do you think would win your favor?”
Judith’s fine face flushed; for the picture that her companion had so simply drawn of a gay officer of the garrisons had once been particularly grateful to her imagination, though experience and disappointment had not only chilled all her affections, but given them a backward current, and the passing image had a momentary influence on her feelings; but the mounting color was succeeded by a paleness so deadly as to make her appear ghastly.
“As God is my judge,” the girl solemnly answered, “did both these men stand before me, as I may say one of them does, my choice, if I know my own heart, would be the latter. I have no wish for a husband who is any way better than myself.”
“This is pleasant to listen to, and might lend a young man, in time, to forget his own onworthiness, Judith! Howsever, you hardly think all that you say. A man like me is too rude and ignorant for one that has had such a mother to teach her; vanity is nat’ral, I do believe; but vanity like that would surpass reason!”
“Then you do not know of what a woman’s heart is capable! Rude you are not, Deerslayer! nor can one be called ignorant that has studied what is before his eyes as closely as you have done. When the affections are concerned, all things appear in their pleasantest colors, and trifles are overlooked, or are forgotten. When the heart feels a sunshine, nothing is gloomy, even dull-looking objects seeming gay and bright; and so it would be between you and the woman