Atlas Nightshade

Day 13

'Lucy, you are an honest-hearted girl, I know. I should not be here

speaking to you as I am now if I did not believe you clean grit, right

through to the very depths of your soul. Tell me, like one good fellow

to another, is there any one else that you care for? And if there is

I'll never trouble you a hair's breadth again, but will be, if you will

let me, a very faithful friend.'

"My dear Mina, why are men so noble when we women are so little worthy

of them? Here was I almost making fun of this great-hearted, true

gentleman. I burst into tears--I am afraid, my dear, you will think

this a very sloppy letter in more ways than one--and I really felt very

badly. Why can't they let a girl marry three men, or as many as want

her, and save all this trouble? But this is heresy, and I must not say

it. I am glad to say that, though I was crying, I was able to look into

Mr. Morris's brave eyes, and I told him out straight:--

"'Yes, there is some one I love, though he has not told me yet that he

even loves me.' I was right to speak to him so frankly, for quite a

light came into his face, and he put out both his hands and took mine--I

think I put them into his--and said in a hearty way:--

"'That's my brave girl. It's better worth being late for a chance of

winning you than being in time for any other girl in the world. Don't

cry, my dear. If it's for me, I'm a hard nut to crack; and I take it

standing up. If that other fellow doesn't know his happiness, well, he'd

better look for it soon, or he'll have to deal with me. Little girl,

your honesty and pluck have made me a friend, and that's rarer than a

lover; it's more unselfish anyhow. My dear, I'm going to have a pretty

lonely walk between this and Kingdom Come. Won't you give me one kiss?

It'll be something to keep off the darkness now and then. You can, you

know, if you like, for that other good fellow--he must be a good fellow,

my dear, and a fine fellow, or you could not love him--hasn't spoken

yet.' That quite won me, Mina, for it _was_ brave and sweet of him, and

noble, too, to a rival--wasn't it?--and he so sad; so I leant over and

kissed him. He stood up with my two hands in his, and as he looked down

into my face--I am afraid I was blushing very much--he said:--

"'Little girl, I hold your hand, and you've kissed me, and if these

things don't make us friends nothing ever will. Thank you for your sweet

honesty to me, and good-bye.' He wrung my hand, and taking up his hat,

went straight out of the room without looking back, without a tear or a

quiver or a pause; and I am crying like a baby. Oh, why must a man like

that be made unhappy when there are lots of girls about who would

worship the very ground he trod on? I know I would if I were free--only

I don't want to be free. My dear, this quite upset me, and I feel I

cannot write of happiness just at once, after telling you of it; and I

don't wish to tell of the number three until it can be all happy.

"Ever your loving

"LUCY.

"P.S.--Oh, about number Three--I needn't tell you of number Three, need

I? Besides, it was all so confused; it seemed only a moment from his

coming into the room till both his arms were round me, and he was

kissing me. I am very, very happy, and I don't know what I have done to

deserve it. I must only try in the future to show that I am not

ungrateful to God for all His goodness to me in sending to me such a

lover, such a husband, and such a friend.

"Good-bye."

_Dr. Seward's Diary._

(Kept in phonograph)

_25 May._--Ebb tide in appetite to-day. Cannot eat, cannot rest, so

diary instead. Since my rebuff of yesterday I have a sort of empty

feeling; nothing in the world seems of sufficient importance to be worth

the doing.... As I knew that the only cure for this sort of thing was

work, I went down amongst the patients. I picked out one who has

afforded me a study of much interest. He is so quaint that I am

determined to understand him as well as I can. To-day I seemed to get

nearer than ever before to the heart of his mystery.

I questioned him more fully than I had ever done, with a view to making

myself master of the facts of his hallucination. In my manner of doing

it there was, I now see, something of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep

him to the point of his madness--a thing which I avoid with the patients

as I would the mouth of hell.

(_Mem._, under what circumstances would I _not_ avoid the pit of hell?)

_Omnia Romæ venalia sunt._ Hell has its price! _verb. sap._ If there be

anything behind this instinct it will be valuable to trace it afterwards

_accurately_, so I had better commence to do so, therefore--

R. M. Renfield, ætat 59.--Sanguine temperament; great physical strength;

morbidly excitable; periods of gloom, ending in some fixed idea which I

cannot make out. I presume that the sanguine temperament itself and the

disturbing influence end in a mentally-accomplished finish; a possibly

dangerous man, probably dangerous if unselfish. In selfish men caution

is as secure an armour for their foes as for themselves. What I think of

on this point is, when self is the fixed point the centripetal force is

balanced with the centrifugal; when duty, a cause, etc., is the fixed

point, the latter force is paramount, and only accident or a series of

accidents can balance it.

_Letter, Quincey P. Morris to Hon. Arthur Holmwood._

"_25 May._

"My dear Art,--

"We've told yarns by the camp-fire in the prairies; and dressed one

another's wounds after trying a landing at the Marquesas; and drunk

healths on the shore of Titicaca. There are more yarns to be told, and

other wounds to be healed, and another health to be drunk. Won't you let

this be at my camp-fire to-morrow night? I have no hesitation in asking

you, as I know a certain lady is engaged to a certain dinner-party, and

that you are free. There will only be one other, our old pal at the

Korea, Jack Seward. He's coming, too, and we both want to mingle our

weeps over the wine-cup, and to drink a health with all our hearts to

the happiest man in all the wide world, who has won the noblest heart

that God has made and the best worth winning. We promise you a hearty

welcome, and a loving greeting, and a health as true as your own right

hand. We shall both swear to leave you at home if you drink too deep to

a certain pair of eyes. Come!

"Yours, as ever and always,

"QUINCEY P. MORRIS."