Clara Hopgood - Page 31/105

As to Frank, no doubt ever approached him. He was intoxicated, and

beside himself. He had been brought up in a clean household, knowing

nothing of the vice by which so many young men are overcome, and

woman hitherto had been a mystery to him. Suddenly he found himself

the possessor of a beautiful creature, whose lips it was lawful to

touch and whose heartbeats he could feel as he pressed her to his

breast. It was permitted him to be alone with her, to sit on the

floor and rest his head on her knees, and he had ventured to capture

one of her slippers and carry it off to London, where he kept it

locked up amongst his treasures. If he had been drawn over Fenmarket

sluice in a winter flood he would not have been more incapable of

resistance.

Every now and then Clara thought she discerned in Madge that she was

not entirely content, but the cloud-shadows swept past so rapidly and

were followed by such dazzling sunshine that she was perplexed and

hoped that her sister's occasional moodiness might be due to parting

and absence, or the anticipation of them. She never ventured to say

anything about Frank to Madge, for there was something in her which

forbade all approach from that side. Once when he had shown his

ignorance of what was so familiar to the Hopgoods, and Clara had

expected some sign of dissatisfaction from her sister, she appeared

ostentatiously to champion him against anticipated criticism. Clara

interpreted the warning and was silent, but, after she had left the

room with her mother in order that the lovers might be alone, she

went upstairs and wept many tears. Ah! it is a sad experience when

the nearest and dearest suspects that we are aware of secret

disapproval, knows that it is justifiable, throws up a rampart and

becomes defensively belligerent. From that moment all confidence is

at an end. Without a word, perhaps, the love and friendship of years

disappear, and in the place of two human beings transparent to each

other, there are two who are opaque and indifferent. Bitter, bitter!

If the cause of separation were definite disagreement upon conduct or

belief, we could pluck up courage, approach and come to an

understanding, but it is impossible to bring to speech anything which

is so close to the heart, and there is, therefore, nothing left for

us but to submit and be dumb.