the blue flower-第12章

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opposite　of　knowledge。　　Love　is　a　kind　of　an　illusiona　happy
illusion；　that　is　what　love　is。　　Don't　you　see　that？〃

〃See　it？〃　I　cried。　　〃I　don't　know　what　you　mean。　　Do　you
mean　that　you　don't　really　care　for　Dorothy　Ward？　　Do　you　mean
that　what　you　have　won　in　her　is　an　illusion？　　If　so；　you　are
as　wrong　as　a　man　can　be。〃

〃No；　no；〃　he　answered；　eagerly；　〃you　know　I　don't　mean
that。　　I　could　not　live　without　her。　　But　love　is　not　the　only
reality。　　There　is　something　else；　something　broader；
something〃

〃Come　away；〃　I　said；　〃come　away；　man！　　You　are　talking
nonsense；　treason。　　You　are　not　true　to　yourself。　　You've　been
working　too　hard　at　your　books。　　There's　a　maggot　in　your　brain。
Come　out　for　a　long　walk。〃

That　indeed　was　what　he　liked　best。　　He　was　a　magnificent
walker；　easy；　steady；　unwearying。　　He　knew　every　road　and　lane
in　the　valleys；　every　footpath　and　trail　among　the　mountains。
But　he　cared　little　for　walking　in　company；　one　companion　was
the　most　that　he　could　abide。　　And；　strange　to　say；　it　was　not
Dorothy　whom　he　chose　for　his　most　frequent　comrade。　　With　her
he　would　saunter　down　the　Black　Brook　path；　or　climb　slowly　to
the　first　ridge　of　Storm…King。　　But　with　me　he　pushed　out　to
the　farthest　pinnacle　that　overhangs　the　river；　and　down
through　the　Lonely　Heart　gorge；　and　over　the　pass　of　the　White
Horse；　and　up　to　the　peak　of　Cro'　Nest；　and　across　the　rugged
summit　of　Black　Rock。　　At　every　wider　outlook　a　strange
exhilaration　seemed　to　come　upon　him。　　His　spirit　glowed　like
a　live　coal　in　the　wind。　　He　overflowed　with　brilliant　talk
and　curious　stories　of　the　villages　and　scattered　houses　that
we　could　see　from　our　eyries。

But　it　was　not　with　me　that　he　made　his　longest　expeditions。
They　were　solitary。　　Early　on　Saturday　he　would　leave　the　rest　of
us；　with　some　slight　excuse；　and　start　away　on　the　mountain…road；
to　be　gone　all　day。　　Sometimes　he　would　not　return　till　long
after　dark。　　Then　I　could　see　the　anxious　look　deepen　on
Dorothy's　face；　and　she　would　slip　away　down　the　road　to　meet
him。　　But　he　always　came　back　in　good　spirits；　talkable　and
charming。　　It　was　the　next　day　that　the　reaction　came。　　The　black
fit　took　him。　　He　was　silent；　moody；　bitter。　　Holding　himself
aloof；　yet　never　giving　utterance　to　any　irritation；　he　seemed
half…unconsciously　to　resent　the　claims　of　love　and　friendship；
as　if　they　irked　him。　　There　was　a　look　in　his　eyes　as　if　he
measured　us；　weighed　us；　analysed　us　all　as　strangers。

Yes；　even　Dorothy。　　I　have　seen　her　go　to　meet　him　with　a
flower　in　her　hand　that　she　had　plucked　for　him；　and　turn　away
with　her　lips　trembling；　too　proud　to　say　a　word；　dropping　the
flower　on　the　grass。　　John　Graham　saw　it；　too。　　He　waited　till
she　was　gone；　then　he　picked　up　the　flower　and　kept　it。

There　was　nothing　to　take　offence　at；　nothing　on　which　one
could　lay　a　finger；　only　these　singular　alternations　of　mood
which　made　Keene　now　the　most　delightful　of　friends；　now　an
intimate　stranger　in　the　circle。　　The　change　was　inexplicable。
But　certainly　it　seemed　to　have　some　connection；　as　cause　or
consequence；　with　his　long；　lonely　walks。

Once；　when　he　was　absent；　we　spoke　of　his　remarkable
fluctuations　of　spirit。

The　master　labelled　him。　　〃He　is　an　idealist；　a　dreamer。
They　are　always　uncertain。〃

I　blamed　him。　　〃He　gives　way　too　much　to　his　moods。　　He
lacks　self…control。　　He　is　in　danger　of　spoiling　a　fine
nature。〃

I　looked　at　Dorothy。　　She　defended　him。　　〃Why　should　he　be
always　the　same？　　He　is　too　great　for　that。　　His　thoughts　make
him　restless；　and　sometimes　he　is　tired。　　Surely　you　wouldn't
have　him　act　what　he　don't　feel。　　Why　do　you　want　him　to　do
that？〃

〃I　don't　know；〃　said　Graham；　with　a　short　laugh。　　〃None　of
us　know。　　But　what　we　all　want　just　now　is　music。　　Dorothy；　will
you　sing　a　little　for　us？〃

So　she　sang　〃The　Coulin；〃　and　〃The　Days　o'　the　Kerry
Dancin'；〃　and　〃The　Hawthorn　Tree；〃　and　〃The　Green　Woods　of
Truigha；〃　and　〃Flowers　o'　the　Forest；〃　and　〃A　la　claire
Fontaine；〃　until　the　twilight　was　filled　with　peace。

The　boys　came　back　to　the　school。　　The　wheels　of　routine
began　to　turn　again；　slowly　and　with　a　little　friction　at
first；　then　smoothly　and　swiftly　as　if　they　had　never　stopped。
Summer　reddened　into　autumn；　autumn　bronzed　into　fall。　　The
maples　and　poplars　were　bare。　　The　oaks　alone　kept　their
rusted　crimson　glory；　and　the　cloaks　of　spruce　and　hemlock　on
the　shoulders　of　the　hills　grew　dark　with　wintry　foliage。
Keene's　transitions　of　mood　became　more　frequent　and　more
extreme。　　The　gulf　of　isolation　that　divided　him　from　us　when
the　black　days　came　seemed　wider　and　more　unfathomable。
Dorothy　and　John　Graham　were　thrown　more　constantly　together。
Keene　appeared　to　encourage　their　companionship。　　He　watched
them　curiously；　sometimes；　not　as　if　he　were　jealous；　but　rather
as　if　he　were　interested　in　some　delicate　experiment。　　At　other
times　he　would　be　singularly　indifferent　to　everything；　remote；
abstracted；　forgetful。

Dorothy's　birthday；　which　fell　in　mid…October；　was　kept　as
a　holiday。　　In　the　morning　everyone　had　some　little　birthday
gift　for　her；　except　Keene。　　He　had　forgotten　the　birthday
entirely。　　The　shadow　of　disappointment　that　quenched　the
brightness　of　her　face　was　pitiful。　　Even　he　could　not　be
blind　to　it。　　He　flushed　as　if　surprised；　and　hesitated　a
moment；　evidently　in　conflict　with　himself。　　Then　a　look　of
shame　and　regret　came　into　his　eyes。　　He　made　some　excuse　for
not　going　with　us　to　the　picnic；　at　the　Black　Brook　Falls；
with　which　the　day　was　celebrated。　　In　the　afternoon；　as　we
all　sat　around　the　camp…fire；　he　came　swinging　through　the
woods　with　his　long；　swift　stride；　and　going　at　once　to
Dorothy　laid　a　little　brooch　of　pearl　and　opal　in　her　hand。

〃Will　you　forgive　me？〃　he　said。　　〃I　hope　this　is　not　too
late。　　But　I　lost　the　train　back　from　Newburg　and　walked　home。
I　pray　that　you　may　never　know　any　tears　but　pearls；　and　that
there　may　be　nothing　changeable　about　you　but　the　opal。〃

〃Oh；　Edward！〃　she　cried；　〃how　beautiful！　　Thank　you　a
thousand　times。　　But　I　wish　you　had　been　with　us　all　day。　　We
have　missed　you　so　much！〃

For　the　rest　of　that　day　simplicity　and　clearness　and　joy
came　back　to　us。　　Keene　was　at　his　best；　a　leader　of　friendly
merriment；　a　master　of　good…fellowship；　a　prince　of　delicate
chivalry。　　Dorothy's　loveliness　unfolded　like　a　flower　in　the
sun。

But　the　Indian　summer　of　peace　was　brief。　　It　was　hardly
a　week　before　Keene's　old　moods　returned；　darker　and　stranger
than　ever。　　The　girl's　unconcealable　bewilderment；　her　sense
of　wounded　loyalty　and　baffled　anxiety；　her　still　look　of　hurt
and　wondering　tenderness；　increased　from　day　to　day。　　John
Graham's　temper　seemed　to　change；　suddenly　and　completely。
From　the　best…humoured　and　most　careless　fellow　in　the　world；
he　became　silent；　thoughtful；　irritable　toward　everyone　except
Dorothy。　　With　Keene　he　was　curt　and　impatient；　avoiding　him
as　much　as　possible；　and　when　they　were　together；　evidently
struggling　to　keep　down　a　deep　dislike　and　rising　anger。　　They
had　had　sharp　words　when　they　were　alone；　I　was　sure；　but
Keene's　coolness　seemed　to　grow　with　Graham's　heat。　　There　was
no　open　quarrel。

One　Saturday　evening；　Graham　came　to　me。　　〃You　have　seen
what　is　going　on　here？〃　he　said。

〃Something；　at　least；〃　I　answered；　〃and　I　am　very　sorry
for　it。　　But　I　don't　quite　understand　it。〃

〃Well；　I　do；　and　I'm　going　to　put　an　end　to　it。　　I'm　going
to　have　it　out　with　Ned　Keene。　　He　is　breaking　her　heart。〃

〃But　are　you　the　right　one　to　take　the　matter　up？〃

〃Who　else　is　there　to　do　it？〃

〃Her　father。〃

〃He　sees　nothing；　comprehends　nothing。　　'Practical
typepoetic　typemisunderstandings　sure　to　arisecome
together　after　a　while　each　supply　the　other's　deficiencies。'
Cursed　folly！　　And　the　girl　so　unhappy　that　she　can't　tell
anyone。　　It　shall　not　go　on；　I　say。　　Keene　is　out　on　the　road
now；　taking　one　of　his　infernal　walks。　　I'm　going　to　meet　him。〃

〃I'm　afraid　it　will　make　trouble。　　Let　me　go　with　you。〃

〃The　trouble　is　made。　　Come　if　you　like。　　I'm　going　now。〃

The　night　lay　heavy　upon　the　forest。　　Where　the　road
dipped　thro