The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1857-11-12
A LOVE see NE,

A LOVE SCENE.
From {" Barchester Towers" BY Anthony Trolope, su
, thor of the Warden.
There is an Old song which gives US some
very good advice about counting:
CTS good to e off with the cd luve
Before ye be OIL WI The new"
OF the wisdom of this maxim, Mr.. Slope was
ignorant; and accordingly, having written his
letter to Mrs. Bold, he proceeded to call upon
the Signora Neroni. Indeed, it was hard to say
which was tee old love and which the new, Mr.
Slope having been smtten with both so nearly
at the same time. Perhaps he thought it not
amiss to have two strings to his bow. But two
strings to Cupid's bow are always dangerous to
him on whose behalf they are to be used A
man should remember that between two stools
he may fall to the ground.
But in sooth Mr.. Slope was pursuing Mrs.
I'D in obedience to his better instincts, and
the Signora in obedience to his worser. Had
he won the widow, and worn her. no one could
have blamed him. You, oh reader, aud l, and
cleaners other friends, would have received
the story of such a winning with much disgust
and disappointment but we should have been
angry with Eleanor, not with Mr.. Slope.
Bishop, male and female, dean and chapter,
have found nothing to disapprove of in such an
alliance. Convocation itself, that mysterious
and mighty synod, could in no wise have fallen
foul OF 1t. The possession of FL 900 year
and a beautiful wife would not at ali have hurt
the voice OF the pulpit charmer, or lessened the
grace and piety of the exemplary clergyman.
But not of such a nature were likely to be
his dealings with the Signora Neroni. In the
first place, he knew that her husband was liv-
ing, and therefore he could not WOO her honest.
ly. Then, again, she had nothing to RECON-
mend her to his honest wooing, had such been
possible. She was not only portionless, but
also from misfortune unftted to be chosen as
the wife of any man who wanted useful mate.
Mr.. Slope was aware that she was a helpless.
hopeless cripple.
But Mr.. Slope could not help himself. He
knew that he was wrong in devoting his time
to the back drawing room in Mr.. Stanhope's
house. He knew that what took place
there WOULD # divg lg knew that scan m,%
would soon come upon his heels, aad spresd
abroad among the black coats of Barchester
some tidngs, exaggerated tidings of the signs
which he poured into the lady's ears. He
knew that he was acting against the recognised
principles of his life, against those laws of con-
duct by which he hoped to achieve much high
er success. Bot, as we have said, lie could not
help himself. Passion, for the first time in his
i!e-passion was too strong for him.
AS tor the Signora no such plea can be put
forward for her, for in truth she cared no more
for Mr.. Slope than she did for twenty others
who had been at her feet before him. She
willingly, nay, greediiy, accepted his hom-
age. He was the finest fly that Barchester
had hitherto afforded to her web; and the Sig
nora was powerful spider, that made won
droRs webs, and could in no way live without
catching flies. Her taste in this respect was
abominable, for she had no use for her victims
when caught. She could not eat them matri-
monially, as young ladies lies do, whose webs
are most frequently of their mothers weaving.
Nor could she devour them by any escapade of
less legitimate description. Her unfortunate
af1i precluded her from all hope oflevant-
ing with lover. 1t would be impossible to
run away with lady who required three SER
wants to move her from sofa.
The Signora was moved by no passion. Her
time for love was gone. She had lived out her
heart-such q heart as she had ever had-in
her early years, at an age when Mr.. Slope was
thinking of the second book of Euclid and his
unpaid bill at the buttery hatch. In age, the
lady was younger than the gentleman but in
feelings, in knowledge of the affairs of love, in
intrigue, he was UNNECESSARILY her junior. 1t
was necessary to her to have some man at her
feet. 1t was the one customary excitement OF
her life. She delighted in the exercise of DOW.
er which this gave her; it was now nearly the
only food for her ambition. She would boast
to her sister that she could make fool of any
man; and the sister, az little imbued with
feminine delicscy as herself, good-naturedly
thought it but fair that such amusement should
be afforded to poor invalid who was debarred
from the ordinary pleasures of life.
Mr.. Slope was madly in love, but hardly
knew it. The Signora spitted him, as a boy
does cockchater on q cork, that she might
enjoy the energetic agony of his gyrations
And she knew very well what she was doing.
Mr.. Slope having added to his person all
such adorDments as are possible to clergyman
making morning visit-such as clean neck
tie, clean handkerchief, new gloves, and q soup
con of not unnecessary scent-called about
three o'clock at the Doctors door. At about
this hour, the Signora was almost always alone
in the back drawing room. The mother had
not come down. The Doctor was out, or in his
room. Berthe was out, and Charlotte at any
rate left the room If any one called whose OBJ
ject was specially with her sister, Such was
her idea of being charitable and sisterly.
Mr.. Slope, as was his CUSTOM asked for Mr.
OIt1uuOPc, Gnu "ho tOiu, DIS was LQ0 servant &
custom, that the Signora was in the drawing
room. Up stairs he accordingly went. he
found her, as he always did, lying on her sofa
with French volume before her, and beauti
full little inlaid writing case open on her table
At the moment of his entrance, she was in the
act of writing.
"Ah, my friend" said she, putting out her
left hand to him across her desk. ~ did not ex
pect you today, and was this very instant wri
ting to you -
Mr.. Slope, taking the soft, fair, delicate hand
in his-and very soft, and fair, and delicate. i,
was-bowed over it his huge red head, and
kissed It. 1t was sight to see, deed to re
cord, if the author could fifty do ia picture
to be put on canvas. Mr.. Slope was big, awk
ward, cumbrous, and, having his heart in his
pursuit, was i'll at ease. The lady was fair, as
we have said, and delicate; everything abou,
her was fine and refined; her hand in his look
ed like rose among carrots, and when he kiss
ed it, he looked as a COW might do on fading
such over among her food. She was grace
full as couchant goddess, and, moreover, as
selfpossessed as Venus must have been wher
counting AdoEis.
| Oh, that such grace and such beauty should
have condescended to waste itself on such 9
pursuit.
81 was in the act of writing to you," said
she, but now my scrawl may go into the bias