Chapter 6: Only a Friend

‘Surely a woman’s affection
Is not a thing to be asked for, and had for only the asking?—Longfellow.

Wednesday evening came, and all went off to Lady Walker’s except Hugh and myself. He seemed very rarely to go out with the others, and was generally up in London several nights a week. I had helped the girls to dress, and had done all I could for them before they went, but it had been a trying time. General Forsyth had hardly spoken to me since he knew my decision was final, and Mrs. Forsyth was continually referring to my foolishness. So I was relieved when they were out of the house, and quite enjoyed the quiet dinner with Hugh. He certainly exerted himself to be agreeable, and asked me if I would come upstairs and sit in his study after dinner.

‘Bring your violin,’ he said, ‘and if you will play nicely to me I will treat you to a glimpse of the heavens through my telescope. It is a beautiful starry night.’

His study was a very comfortable-looking room, with a large bay window overlooking the open country, and I took up my position in front of it as I played to him. I did not know he was so fond of music; but as I laid my violin down I noticed how he was leaning back in his chair with a dreamy smile upon his face, and drawing in a long breath, he said, —

‘Thank you. I think that’s a better class of entertainment than what is going on at the Walkers’ at present. A low-level life there, I consider, and one only marvels at men and women spending their whole existence in such trifles: time and talents utterly wasted, and powers of intellect used and abused in the foolish chit-chat of society!’

He spoke so contemptuously that I looked up in surprise.

‘I think,’ I said, ‘every one must have something to fill their life. They are as much occupied in their gay sphere as you are in your literary one.’

‘Or as you in your pious one! Quite true; and I suppose we each think our own sphere immeasurably superior to any other. I tell you honestly, I have a contempt for the frivolous one, and a pity for the religious. I look at both from a higher platform.’

‘You place all your faith in man’s intellect,’ I said slowly; ‘but “religious” people, as you call them, place their faith in the Creator of man’s intellect. I don’t think you are on a higher platform than they; you haven’t got quite high enough.’

He made a movement of impatience in his chair, then relapsed into his natural supercilious manner.

‘It is amusing to hear you air your views so dogmatically; if you were versed in some of the literature of the present day, and knew how many old-time notions and superstitions are disappearing under the full clear light of reason and science, you would not speak so positively. You must let me lend you a few books that may enlarge your thoughts and enlighten you on these subjects.’

‘No, thank you,’ I said quietly; ‘you mustn’t be vexed if I say again, you don’t rise high enough; you read and study the works and production of men’s brains, but I go by God’s own Book, and that is beyond and above them all.’

Hugh laughed. ‘I never argue with women, or I would show you how faulty your statements are. But never mind. I would rather see a girl take serious views of life than fritter it away as most do. You mean well, and live up to your light. Now would you like to have a look through my telescope?’

I assented; but I could not help wondering how much or how little Hugh really did believe. Nothing could be kinder than his explanations of the different planets and stars that we looked out upon, and for a full hour I was engrossed in gazing at various constellations above. I had always been interested in astronomy, and Hugh was very lucid as well as patient in giving me a great deal of fresh information. I listened and gazed breathlessly, and at last came away from the telescope with a deep-drawn breath of regret.