A Night-Piece

           

           Therecameanightwhenthehusbandwasaloneinthatstreetwaiting.Hecandonothingforyounow,littlenurserygoverness,youmustfightitoutbyyourself;whentherearegreatthingstodointhehousethemanmustleave.Oh,man,selfish,indelicate,coarse-grainedatthebest,thywoman’shourhascome;gettheegone.

           Heslouchesfromthehouse,alwayshertrueloverIdobelieve,chivalrous,brave,aboyuntilto-night;butwasheeverunkindtoher?Itistheunpardonablesinnow;istherethememoryofanunkindnesstostalkthestreetwithhimto-night?Andifnotanunkindness,stillmighthenotsometimeshavebeenalittlekinder?

           Shallwemakeanewruleoflifefromtonight:alwaystotrytobealittlekinderthanisnecessary?

           Pooryouth,shewouldcometothewindowifshewereable,Iamsure,tosignthattheonelittleunkindnessislongforgotten,tosendyouareassuringsmiletillyouandshemeetagain;and,ifyouarenottomeetagain,stilltosendyouareassuring,tremblingsmile.

           Ah,no,thatwasforyesterday;itistoolatenow.Hewandersthestreetsthinkingofhertonight,butshehasforgottenhim.Inhergreathourthemanisnothingtothewoman;theirloveistrivialnow.

           HeandIwereonoppositesidesofthestreet,nowbecomefamiliargroundtobothofus,anddiverspicturesrosebeforemeinwhichMaryAwalked.Herewasthemorningaftermyonlyentryintoherhouse.

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Roboto Lora
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