# The Tales of John Oliver Hobbes/A Bundle of Life/Part 2 Chapter 3

III.
Felicia Gorm was a young girl about seventeen, with large blue eyes, small regular features, and rosy cheeks; to-day she was even rosier than usual.
"Mama would be so grateful if you would talk to Mr. Van Huyster," she said to Saville; "he is asking so many questions about England, and no one can answer him."
When Rookes had left them, Felicia tried to look disinterested. "Have you ever noticed," she said, "how easily he blushes.... It does not mean anything—although Mama says that men only blush nowadays to be mistaken for Christians! I am sure that is not the case with Captain Rookes.... Do you like him?"
"We are half-cousins!"
The young girl sat down by her side. "Dear Lady Mallinger," she said, "I am dreadfully unhappy. But I am so fond of you; I am sure you will help me."
"Indeed, I will. What is troubling you?"
"Where shall I begin? Mama sent for me this morning. I felt it was to be a serious conversation because she wore her coronet brooch. She told me that if Mr. Wiche asked me to marry him, I was to say yes. Think of it! It seems they have arranged it all between them; they think he is growing too democratic, and now he has refused a Baronetcy he has ​become more popular than ever. They say it would be such an excellent thing if he married a Peer's daughter, and Mama says I must sacrifice myself for the sake of the country. I am sure that marriage into our family will not change his opinion of the House of Lords! I have no influence with him, but Mama says I must try to have one; that he must be very fond of me or he would not stay here. Every one knows that he detests visiting as a rule. I believe he is in love with you, but Mama says that is an absurd idea, because he knew you before you married Lord Mallinger, and he is not the kind of man who would fancy your style of beauty in a wife. He is always staring at you, at any rate. Then I said he seemed great friends with Teresa; but then, as Mama says, dear Teresa is almost ugly, and if he had intended to marry her for her money, he would have done so long ago! So I suppose I must be the one after all, and in the end I shall have to accept him. But—but I shall always love Saville best!"
"Saville? " exclaimed Lady Mallinger, in astonishment. "Saville?"
"If you knew him as I do, you would not wonder that I love him," said Felicia, blushing deeply, " he is so chivalrous, so noble, so unselfish, just like King Arthur in Lord Tennyson. And to hear him speak of women! He thinks we are all angels. I am so afraid, dear Lady Mallinger, lest he may be disappointed in us, because we are not all angels, are we?"
​"Has Saville told you—has he said—has he spoken ——?"
"He knows that I love him," said Felicia, faintly.
"But has he asked you to be his wife?"
"Not in so many words, but words are not everything. He is not rich; he is afraid people might say—you know what they always say. Once he told me he wished I had no money—that I was poor and unknown. Oh, I understand him so well."
"I am sure your family would not care for the match," said Lilian, at last; "and evidently they have set their hearts on Wiche. Wiche is rather odd, but I was only thinking last night what a fine face he has: he would make you a kind husband, and you would be quite contented—after a little." The foolishest of mortals may often be startled into a certain sagacity;and Felicia's innocence had the effect of rousing Lady Mallinger's common-sense which, though undisciplined and kitten-like, was still promising.
"No doubt," she continued, looking gravely at the girl's anxious face, "Saville is most agreeable, and it is very pleasing to think that such a handsome, popular fellow is in love with one. But would you feel so flattered if he were plain: if you heard, for instance, that he was fickle, mercenary, and treacherous!"
"But I might hear that of Wiche, too," said Felicia. "You see, dear Lady Mallinger, I must believe in some man or I could not marry at all! And I would rather be deceived by Saville than adored by Sidney Wiche!"
​"I am afraid you do not like Saville," said Felicia, suddenly.
"My dear little girl," said Lilian, with great dignity, "it is only because I am Saville's friend that I understand your point of view!"
"Then why are you so angry with me for loving him ? I am sure you would not care for any one who was not noble and generous—you would not be his friend if he did not have fine qualities!"
Conversation between a disillusioned devotee and an enthusiastic novice is always difficult: the disillusioned fears to be candid, and the enthusiast fears nothing; one has not learnt enough, the other has all to learn. This, then, was the situation of Lady Mallinger and Felicia. To one, Saville seemed a traitor; to the other, he was a being with neither body, soul, nor passions—a portable ideal who, at his sublimest, murmured, "I love you!" Rookes was, as a matter of fact, a mortal whose good intentions and generous admiration for the admirable were not steady enough to carry the load of a fashionable education, nor robust enough to endure the nipping cruelty of society small talk. He feared his better instincts as the pious do their besetting sins, and when he was surprised into one of his natural virtues, his first precaution was to make it appear a polite vice.
"I will not say one word against Saville," said Lady Mallinger, at last. "I would rather not discuss him. In any case I can only implore you to obey your relatives: after all they must know best."
"Then," said Felicia, "it would be useless to ask you to help me."
​"Well," said Felicia, "you see I am not yet engaged to Mr. Wiche. If he could only be made not to propose, everything would come right. Dear Lady Mallinger, if you would only distract his attention: you are so much prettier than I am, and I am sure he would be far more influenced by you than he ever could be by me. Oh, please promise me that you will try."
This suggestion was rot without its charm. Lilian had a certain liking for Wiche: he appealed to her head rather than to her imagination, to her sympathies rather than to her senses: and, though he did not inspire her with poetic thoughts, he made the prose of her existence seem less like prose.
"Perhaps there would be no harm," she said, "and yet——"
"Oh, do promise," said Felicia, "my life and soul are bound up in it."
"One can tie a great many knots in one's life and soul," said Lady Mallinger.
"But love is so mysterious—so wonderful. It is the music of the world."
"It is a pity that it goes so often out of tune!" said Lilian. "Oh," she added suddenly, "our life is on so small a scale: everything seems so petty. Are women only born to fall in love with men like Saville Rookes? Why do we do these things?"
"Because there is nothing else for us to do, I suppose," said Felicia.
​"I believe they get very tired of it," said Felicia.
"I am sure they are not half so happy as we are."
"Are we happy?" said Lilian.
"Of course we are," replied the young girl.
"What a strange question!"
"Perhaps it is strange. I feel tired."
"And you look pale," said Felicia. "Let me fetch you my scent-bottle." She ran lightly across the lawn and up the Terrace steps without perceiving Saville, who was returning from another direction.
He came close to Lady Mallinger and looked into her face.
"You do not look well," he said.
"I am well enough."
"Did that poor little thing bore you?"
"Not at all."
"Why are you so curt?"
"Am I?"
"Have I offended you?"
"Oh, no," said Lady Mallinger. "But you know quite well what Felicia has been talking about. You have acted abominably."
​"Why?" said Lady Mallinger, with flashing eyes.
"Why? do you ask me why? I will not lie to you. I loved you because I thought you loved me—because I felt that you would help me, you, who were so much stronger, so much nobler, so much braver than I. When you said...when you seemed to think I had some beauty, I longed to be the most beautiful of all women, that you might be proud of me: I longed to be royal that I might throw aside my royalty and show the world that I would rather be ruled by you than rule a kingdom: I wanted a palace that I might leave it and follow you into darkness and poverty: I wished that we lived in times of danger that I might save you from death, that I might lie for you, hate for you, steal for you, die for you! How I have loved you! how have you deceived me! I have nothing left but contempt for both of us....Stay there!"