"I could be as brave as anybody--as brave as you are--if a chance were given me. But of what use is bravery against a wall twenty feet high? I can't get over it.
I only wound and cripple myself by trying to tear it down, or break through it.--Oh yes, I know what you say! You say there is no wall--that it is all an illusion of mine.
But unfortunately I'm unable to take that view.
I've battered myself against it too long--too sorely, Celia!"Celia shrugged her shoulders in comment. "Oh, we women all have our walls--our limitations--if it comes to that,"she said, with a kind of compassionate impatience in her tone.
"We are all ridiculous together--from the point of view of human liberty. The free woman is a fraud--a myth.
She is as empty an abstraction as the 'Liberty, Equality, Fraternity' that the French put on their public buildings.
I used to have the most wonderful visions of what independence would mean. I thought that when I was absolutely my own master, with my money and my courage and my free mind, I would do things to astonish all mankind. But really the most I achieve is the occasional mild surprise of a German waiter. Even that palls on one after a time.
And if you were independent, Edith--if you had any amount of money--what difference do you think it would make to you?
What could you do that you don't do, or couldn't do, now?""Ah, now"--said the other, looking up with a thin smile--"now is an interval--an oasis."Miss Madden's large, handsome, clear-hued face, habitually serene in its expression, lost something in composure as she regarded her companion. "I don't know why you should say that," she observed, gently enough, but with an effect of reproof in her tone. "I have never put limits to the connection, in my own mind--and it hadn't occurred to me that you were doing so in yours.""But I'm not," interposed Lady Cressage.
"Then I understand you less than ever. Why do you talk about an 'interval'? What was the other word?--'oasis'--as if this were a brief halt for refreshments and a breathing-spell, and that presently you must wander forth into the desert again. That suggestion is none of mine.
We agreed that we would live together--'pool our issues,' as they say in America. I wanted a companion; so did you.
I have never for an instant regretted the arrangement.
Some of my own shortcomings in the matter I have regretted.
You were the most beautiful young woman I had ever seen, and you were talented, and you seemed to like me--and Ipromised myself that I would add cheerfulness and a gay spirit to your other gifts--and in that I have failed wofully.
You're not happy. I see that only too clearly.""I know--I'm a weariness and a bore to you," broke in the other, despondingly.
"That is precisely what you're not," Celia went on.
"We mustn't use words of that sort. They don't describe anything in our life at all. But I should be better pleased with myself if I could really put my finger on what it is that is worrying you. Even if we decided to break up our establishment, I have told you that you should not go back to what you regard as poverty.
Upon that score, I had hoped that your mind was easy.
As I say, I think you attach more importance to money than those who have tested its powers would agree to--but that's neither here nor there. You did not get on well on 600 pounds a year--and that is enough. You shall never have less than twice that amount, whether we keep together or not--and if it ought to be three times the amount, that doesn't matter.
"You don't seem to realize, Edith"--she spoke with increased animation--"that you are my caprice. You are the possession that I am proudest of and fondest of.
There is nothing else that appeals to me a hundredth part as much as you do. Since I became independent, the one real satisfaction I have had is in being able to do things for you--to have you with me, and make you share in the best that the world can offer.
