they did. There must have been,
nevertheless, a considerable scene. The idealist driven into
squalid actualities deserves a martyr's crown. In one single
misfortune he suffers all the calamities of the human race, and in
one personal horror he sees the death, emptiness, and corruption of
all human endeavours. In this exaggeration, these mystics show
their genius; they suffer too much in order that ordinary people
may suffer a little less. Poor Orange! He is certainly fine, for,
even if I discard the _mannerisms_, the eccentricity, the possibly
_natural_ self-sufficiency, all that is essential in his character
remains and must remain undeniably chivalrous. It was an immense
relief to find that he had decided, without suggestions on my part,
on his course of conduct. I hate a fellow who tries to be more than
friendly, and I dreaded making the experiment. I did venture to
point out to him that there might be some way of annulling the
Parflete marriage. But idealists abhor law-suits. Parflete, _not_
being an idealist, may take some steps on his own account. I
refrained from touching on that possibility, although I see much
hope that way for our unhappy lovers. The world might cry out a
little at first, but success justifies everything. Meanwhile,
Robert and Mrs. Parflete have formed a resolution not to meet again
for a year or more. After that, they hope to be on the unearthly
terms of Laura and her Petrarch. It is magnificent, but is it love?
I long to hear your views on the subject. I have no influence over
you; I wish I had. I am the most sincere of all your friends. The
others either care too little for you, or too much for themselves,
to run the risk of giving you offence. But I would risk all, to
gain even a little--where you are concerned. May I call on my
return? Orange comes back with me. His own instinct tells him that
there is a suggestion of the ridiculous--to the mere
on-looker--about this interrupted honeymoon. He has determined to
face it out in London, and resume his life on the old lines. He
will finish his volume of French History, resume his post with Lord
Wight, and take his seat in Parliament. If he can succeed in living
down this absurdly tragic catastrophe, he will achieve a notable
triumph. It gives me a cold feeling at the heart