The Blithedale Romance - Page 17/170

The fantasy occurred to me that she was some desolate kind of

a creature, doomed to wander about in snowstorms; and that, though the

ruddiness of our window panes had tempted her into a human dwelling,

she would not remain long enough to melt the icicles out of her hair.

Another conjecture likewise came into my mind. Recollecting

Hollingsworth's sphere of philanthropic action, I deemed it possible

that he might have brought one of his guilty patients, to be wrought

upon and restored to spiritual health by the pure influences which our

mode of life would create.

As yet the girl had not stirred. She stood near the door, fixing a

pair of large, brown, melancholy eyes upon Zenobia--only upon

Zenobia!--she evidently saw nothing else in the room save that bright,

fair, rosy, beautiful woman. It was the strangest look I ever

witnessed; long a mystery to me, and forever a memory. Once she seemed

about to move forward and greet her,--I know not with what warmth or

with what words,--but, finally, instead of doing so, she dropped down

upon her knees, clasped her hands, and gazed piteously into Zenobia's

face. Meeting no kindly reception, her head fell on her bosom.

I never thoroughly forgave Zenobia for her conduct on this occasion.

But women are always more cautious in their casual hospitalities than

men.

"What does the girl mean?" cried she in rather a sharp tone. "Is she

crazy? Has she no tongue?"

And here Hollingsworth stepped forward.

"No wonder if the poor child's tongue is frozen in her mouth," said he;

and I think he positively frowned at Zenobia. "The very heart will be

frozen in her bosom, unless you women can warm it, among you, with the

warmth that ought to be in your own!"

Hollingsworth's appearance was very striking at this moment. He was

then about thirty years old, but looked several years older, with his

great shaggy head, his heavy brow, his dark complexion, his abundant

beard, and the rude strength with which his features seemed to have

been hammered out of iron, rather than chiselled or moulded from any

finer or softer material. His figure was not tall, but massive and

brawny, and well befitting his original occupation; which as the reader

probably knows--was that of a blacksmith. As for external polish, or

mere courtesy of manner, he never possessed more than a tolerably

educated bear; although, in his gentler moods, there was a tenderness

in his voice, eyes, mouth, in his gesture, and in every indescribable

manifestation, which few men could resist and no woman. But he now

looked stern and reproachful; and it was with that inauspicious meaning

in his glance that Hollingsworth first met Zenobia's eyes, and began

his influence upon her life.