“You have another dance on New Year’s Eve, Mr. Barringcourt?”
“Yes. You will come? It is the one night in the whole year worth dancing on.”
“I would come gladly; but I can find no dress to my liking.”
She clasped her hands round her knee, shook her head and looked at him.
“I won’t come unless I can wear exactly what I want.”
“The dress that Mariana was making long ago. But I expect she’s finished it, and the moths have eaten it away. But all the same, I won’t come unless I have it. It is the one thing on earth I’ve set my heart upon.”
Mr. Barringcourt looked at her. The pretty air of reasonless determination suited her.
“The moths have eaten it away, then,” and without pretence or acting two big tears rose in her eyes and fell—one for sorrow at his hardness, one for the memory of Mariana in the cell.
But two tears upon occasion can be very fascinating.
“You never did reason, did you, Rosalie?” said he.
“Yes. It’s the one thing I’ve done all my life. But the simpler you are in this world the more you’re derided. Let me see Mariana to ask her about the dress?”
“You should never use abusive language towards the individual. I learnt that long ago. If you want to be profane you should generalise.”
“I learnt it from the Governor; the gentleman whom I met when I ran away from you. But he wasn’t lax, I’m sure. Perhaps I misunderstood him.”
“I wouldn’t put it beyond you. But give me a form of forcible language that would fit in with his exposition.”
“Well, the only one that presents itself at all to me is ‘Damn it.’ You see ‘it’ means nothing in particular, is quite impersonal, and therefore no one is any the worse for it, yourself included.”
“You’re an advocate of that particular form?” said he.
“I’d allow it to you upon occasion, but not to myself.”
“Because if I were a perfect woman I’d never have any inclination to go further than the ‘d.’”
“You’re striving after the perfect woman?”
“Yes,” sighed Rosalie; “but she’s very delusive. It’s so easy to overstep the bounds and become saintly.”
He laughed. “I don’t think you’ll ever be that.”
“The strain would be too great. You’d best remain as you are. I believe the dance is ending.”
“And—and never a word settled about my dress.”
“Indeed, yes. I went through all the pains and penalties of trying it on, stood three weary hours as model, and it was so beautiful my heart longed for it then, and has done so ever since.”