The Secret Power by Marie Corelli (dark academia books to read .TXT) đ
- Author: Marie Corelli
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âWhat is fey?â interrupted Miss Herbert.
âItâs just everything that everybody else is NOTââMorgana repliedâ ââFeyâ people are magic people; they see what no one else sees,â they hear voices that no one else hearsâvoices that whisper secrets and tell of wonders as yet undiscoveredââ She broke off suddenly. âWe must not stay talking hereââshe resumed-âAll the folks will say we are planning the bridesmaidsâ dresses and that the very day of the ceremony is fixed! But you can be sure that I am not going to marry anybodyâleast of all Roger Seaton!â
âYou like him though! I can see you like him!â
âOf course I like him! Heâs a human magnet,âhe âdrawsâ! You fly towards him as if he were a bit of rubbed sealing-wax and you a snippet of paper! But you soon drop off! Oh, that valse! Isnât it entrancing!â
And, swinging herself round lightly like a bell-flower in a breeze she danced off alone and vanished in the crowd of her guests.
Lydia Herbert recalled this conversation now, as she stood looking from the vine-clad verandah of her hotel towards the sea, and again saw, as in a vision, the face and eyes of her âfeyâ friend,âa face by no means beautiful in feature, but full of a sparkling attraction which was almost irresistible.
âNothing in her!â had declared New York society generallyââExcept her money! And her hairâbut not even that unless she lets it down!â
Lydia had seen it so âlet down,â once, and only once, and the sight of such a glistening rope of gold had fairly startled her.
âAll your own?â she had gasped.
And with a twinkling smile, and comic hesitation of manner Morgana had answered.
âIâI THINK it is! It seems so! I donât believe it will come off unless you pull VERY hard!â
Lydia had not pulled hard, but she had felt the soft rippling mass falling from head to far below the knee, and had silently envied the owner its possession.
âItâs a great bother,â Morgana declaredââI never know what to do with it. I canât dress it âfashionablyâ one bit, and when I twist it up itâs so fine it goes into nothing and never looks the quantity it is. However, we must all have our troubles!âwith some itâs teethâ with others itâs anklesâweâre never QUITE all right! The thing is to endure without complaining!â
âAnd this curious creature who talked âso very strangely,â possessed millions of money! Her father, who had arrived in the States from the wildest north of Scotland with practically not a penny, had so gathered and garnered every opportunity that came in his way that every investment he touched seemed to turn to five times its first value under his fingers. When his wife died very soon after his wealth began to accumulate, he was beset by women of beauty and position eager to take her place, but he was adamant against all their blandishments and remained a widower, devoting his entire care to the one child he had brought with him as an infant from the Highland hills, and to whom he gave a brilliant but desultory and uncommon education. Life seemed to swirl round him in a glittering ring of gold of which he made himself the centre,âand when he died suddenly âfrom overstrainâ as the doctors said, people were almost frightened to name the vast fortune his daughter inherited, accustomed as they were to the counting of many millions. And now--- ?â
âCalifornia!â mused LydiaââSam Gwent thinks she has gone there after Roger Seaton. But what can be her object if she doesnât care for him? Itâs far more likely sheâs started for Sicilyâsheâs having a palace built there for her small self to live in âall by her lonesomeâ! Well! She can afford it!â
And with a short sigh she let go her train of thought and left the verandah,âit was time to change her costume and prepare âeffectsâ to dazzle and bewilder the uncertain mind of a crafty old Croesus who, having freely enjoyed himself as a bachelor up to his present age of seventy-four, was now looking about for a young strong woman to manage his house and be a nurse and attendant for him in his declining years, for which service, should she be suitable, he would concede to her the name of âwifeâ in order to give stability to her position. And Lydia Herbert herself was privately quite aware of his views. Moreover she was entirely willing to accommodate herself to them for the sake of riches and a luxurious life, and the âsettlementâ she meant to insist upon if her plans ripened to fulfilment. She had no great ambitions; few women of her social class have. To be well housed, well fed and well clothed, and enabled to do the fashionable round without hindranceâthis was all she sought, and of romance, sentiment, emotion or idealism she had none. Now and again she caught the flash of a thought in her brain higher than the level of material needs, but dismissed it more quickly than it came asââRidiculous! Absolute nonsense! Like Morgana!â
And to be like Morgana, meant to be like what cynics designate âan impossible woman,ââindependent of opinions and therefore ânot understood of the people.â
CHAPTER IV
âWhy do you stare at me? You have such big eyes!â
Morgana, dotted only in a white silk nightgown, sitting on the edge of her bed with her small rosy toes peeping out beneath the tiny frill of her thin garment, looked at the broad-shouldered handsome girl Manella who had just brought in her breakfast tray and now stood regarding her with an odd expression of mingled admiration and shyness.
âSuch big eyes!â she repeatedââLike great head-lamps flaring out of that motor-brain of yours! What do you see in me?â
Manellaâs brown skin flushed crimson.
âSomething I have never seen before!â she answeredââYou are so small and white! Not like a woman at all!â
Morgana laughed merrily.
âNot like a woman! Oh dear! What am I like then?â
Manellaâs eyes grew darker than ever in the effort to explain her thought.
âI do not knowââshe said, hesitatinglyââButâonceâhere in this gardenâwe found a wonderful butterfly with white wingsâall white,- and it was resting on a scarlet flower. We all went out to look at it, because it was unlike any other butterfly we had ever seen,-its wings were like velvet or swansdown. You remind me of that butterfly.â
Morgana smiled.
âDid it fly away?â
âOh, yes. Very soon! And an hour or so after it had flown, the scarlet flower where it had rested was dead.â
âMost thrilling!â And Morgana gave a little yawn. âIs that breakfast? Yes? Stay with me while I have it! Are you the head chambermaid at the Plaza?â
Manella shrugged her shoulders.
âI do not know what I am! I do everything I am asked to do as well as I can.â
âObliging creature! And are you well paid?â
âAs much as I wantââManella answered, indifferently. âBut there is no pleasure in the work.â
âIs there pleasure in ANY work?â
âIf one works for a person one loves,âsurely yes!â the girl murmured as if she were speaking to herself, âThe days would be too short for all the work to be done!â
Morgana glanced at her, and the flash of her eyes had the grey-blue of lightning. Then she poured out the coffee and tasted it.
âNot bad!â she commentedââDid you make it?â
Manella nodded, and went on talking at random.
âI daresay itâs not as good as it ought to beââshe saidââIf you had brought your own maid I should have asked HER to make it. Women of your class like their food served differently to us poor folk, and I donât know their ways.â
Morgana laughed.
âYou quaint, handsome thing! What do you know about it? What, in your opinion, IS my class?â
Manella pulled nervously at the ends of the bright coloured kerchief she wore knotted across her bosom, and hesitated a moment.
âWell, for one thing you are richââshe said, at lastââThere is no mistaking that. Your lovely clothesâyou must spend a fortune on them! Thenâall the people here wonder at your automobileâand your chauffeur says it is the most perfect one ever made! And all these riches make you think you ought to have everything just as you fancy it. I suppose you oughtâIâm not sure! I donât believe you have much feeling,âyou couldnât, you know! It is not as if you wanted something very badly and there was no chance of your getting it,â your money would buy all you could desire. It would even buy you a man!â
Morgana paused in the act of pouring out a second cup of coffee, and her face dimpled with amusement.
âBuy me a man!â she echoedââYou think it would?â
âOf course it would!â Manella averredââIf you wanted one, which I daresay you donât. For all I know, you may be like the man who is living in the consumption hut on the hill,âhe ought to have a woman, but he doesnât want one.â
Morgana buttered her little breakfast roll very delicately.
âThe man who lives in the consumption hut on the hill!â she repeated, slowly, and with a smileââWhat man is that?â
âI donât knowââ and Manellaâs large dark eyes filled with a strangely wistful perplexity. âHe is a strangerâand heâs not ill at all. He is big and strong and healthy. But he has chosen to live in the âhouse of the dying,â as it is sometimes calledâwhere people from the Plaza go when thereâs no more hope for them. He likes to be quite aloneâhe thinks and writes all day. I take him milk and bread,âit is all he orders from the Plaza. I would be his woman. I would work for him from morning till night. But he will not have me.â
Morgana raised her eyes, glittering with the âfeyâ light in them that often bewildered and rather scared her friends.
âYou would be his woman? You are in love with him?â she said.
Something in her look checked Manellaâs natural impulse to confide in one of her own sex.
âNo, I am not!ââshe answered coldlyââI have said too much.â
Morgana smiled, and stretching out her small white hand, adorned with its sparkling rings, laid it caressingly on the girlâs brown wrist.
âYou are a dear!ââshe murmured, lazilyââJust a dear! A big, beautiful creature with a heart! Thatâs the troubleâyour heart! Youâve found a man living selfishly alone, scribbling what he perhaps thinks are the most wonderful things ever put on paper, when they are very likely nothing but rubbish, and it enters into your head that he wants mothering and loving! He doesnât want anything of the sort! And YOU want to love and mother him! Oh heavens!âhave you ever thought what loving and mothering mean?â
Manella drew a quick soft breath.
âAll the world, surely!â she answered, with emotionââTo love!âto possess the one we love, body and soul!âand to mother a life born of such love!âTHAT must be heaven!â
The smile flitted away from Morganaâs lips, and her expression became almost sorrowful.
âYou are like a trusting animal!â she saidââAn animal all innocent of guns and steel-traps! You poor girl! I should like you to come with me out of these mountain solitudes into the world!
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