One of Our Conquerors - World eBook Library

One of Our Conquerors
fortuitous encounter with an influential neighbour of
Lakelands. He told Sir Rodwell the story of how they had
met in the salle a manger of the hotel the impresario of a
Concert in the town, who had in his hand the doctor’s certificate
of the incapacity of the chief cantatrice to appear,
and waved it, within a step of suicide. ‘Well, to be brief, my
wife—”noble dame Anglaise,” as the man announced her
on the Concert platform, undertook one of the songs, and
sang another of her own-pure contralto voice, as you will
say; with the result that there was a perfect tumult of enthusiasm.
Next day, the waiters of the hotel presented her with a
bouquet of Spring flowers, white, and central violets. It was
in the Paris papers, under the heading: Une amie d’outre
Manche—I think that was it?’ he asked Nataly.
‘I forget,’ said she.
He glanced at her: a cloud had risen. He rallied her, spoke of
the old Norman silver cross which the manager of the Concert
had sent, humbly imploring her to accept the small memento
of his gratitude. She nodded an excellent artificial brightness.
And there was the coast of France under young sunlight
over the waters. Once more her oft-petitioning wish through
the years, that she had entered the ranks of professional singers,
upon whom the moral scrutiny is not so microscopic, invaded
her, resembling a tide-swell into rock-caves, which have
been filled before and left to emptiness, and will be left to
emptiness again. Nataly had the intimation visiting us when,
in a decline of physical power, the mind’s ready vivacity to
conjure illusions forsakes us; and it was, of a wall ahead, and a
force impelling her against it, and no hope of deviation. And
this is the featureless thing, Destiny; not without eyes, if we
have a conscience to throw them into it to look at us.
Counsel to her to live in the hour, came, as upon others on
the vessel, from an active breath of the salt prompting to
healthy hunger; and hardly less from the splendour of the
low full sunlight on the waters, the skimming and dancing
of the thousands of golden shells away from under the globe
of fire.
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