A Witch of the Hills, v. 1-2 - The Original Classic Edition. Warden Florence
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'Yes, why?'
'Well, if I can see that quite well, why on earth do they still keep the bandages over my eyes? I know they were afraid of my going blind. But I haven't; so what's it for?'
'I don't know,' mumbled Edgar, rather blankly. He added hastily, 'I suppose the doctor knows best; you'd better leave them alone.' [30]
'Oh yes.'
A long silence, during which Edgar, under the impression that it was part of a sick nurse's duty when the patient showed signs of restlessness, pottered about the room, and at last fell over something.
'I say, Edgar,' I began again, 'isn't my face a good deal battered about on the right side?'
I heard him stop, and there was a little clash of glasses. Then he spoke, with some constraint.
'Yes, a little. I daresay it will be some time before it gets all right. But you've no internal injuries or broken bones, and that's the great thing.'
The last statement was made so effusively that it was not difficult for me to gather that my face was more deeply injured than he
liked to admit.
'I know quite well,' said I composedly,[31] 'that I shall have to swell the proud ranks of the plain after this; I must cultivate my intel-
lect and my virtues, like the poor girls whom we don't dance with! I've lost a finger, too, haven't I? On my right hand?'
'Only two joints of it,' answered Edgar, with laboured cheerfulness.
'What would poor Helen say to me if she could see me now?' I suggested, rather diffidently.
'Say! Why, what every true woman would say, that she loved you ten times better now you were disfigured than she did when you
were the counterpart of every other good-looking popinjay in town!'
This, uttered with much ponderous vehemence, was by no means reassuring to me. In the first place, it confirmed the idea that my
injuries would leave permanent marks. In the second place, it led me to ask myself whether, Helen's chief merit in my eyes[32] hav-
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ing been good looks, my chief merit in her eyes might not have been the same.
As I said nothing, Edgar, now fully awake, came nearer to the bed, and said solemnly: 'You do Helen injustice, Harry.'
'And you taught me to do her injustice, Edgar.'
At first he said nothing to this, and I knew that he understood me. But presently I felt his hand laid emphatically on my left shoulder, and he began in a low earnest voice: 'Look here, old chap, that's not quite fair. I may have inveighed against the intellectual inferior-ity of women scores of times when you encouraged me by feeble protest. I may have spoken of my own sister as an example of
the sweet and silly. When you saw her and became infatuated about her I listened to your rhapsodies in silence because I couldn't endorse your opinion that she was an angel. But I was glad you had taken a fancy to the[33] child, and I knew that you might have done much worse. Well, my opinions have undergone no transformation. The women of the middle class, whom it is now the fashion to educate, the women of the lower class, who have to work, may be considered as reasoning creatures, varying, as men do,
in their reasoning powers. But the women of the upper classes, pur sang, who are equally above education and labour, may be ranked all together, with the exception of those whom alliance with the class below has regenerated, as more or less fascinating idiots, whose minds are cramped by unnatural and ignorant prejudices, and in whom an occasional ray of intelligence disperses itself in mere
freaks of art, of philanthropy, or of religion.'
'Then, if you are logical, you may end by marrying a barmaid.'
'I think not. Barmaids are young women who, by the exacting demands of their calling,[34] are bound to be healthy, active, intelligent and shrewd. Consider how such a woman would be thrown away in the ridiculous and empty existence led by our wives! How she would laugh at the shallow interests of the women around her, and despise her do-nothing husband! Without counting that she might be demoralised by her new position, and add the mistakes of a parvenue to the foibles of the class into which she was admitted!'
'Then, on the whole, you will----'
'Remain single, or take for wife the usual fool of my own class, who will have the usual fool of her own class for a husband.'
'But, Edgar,' said I, after a short pause, 'I am not so calm as you are, and my mind is less well-regulated than yours. I want something in my wife that you would not want from yours. The docile acceptance of my love would never content me; I want it returned.'
[35]
But this view of the case had the effect of irritating Edgar, who naturally resented the idea of any other nature having deeper needs than his own.
'It is unreasonable to expect, from our physical and mental inferior, powers equal to our own,' he said, in a tone of dismissal of the subject.
'Then how am I to expect from Helen the power of looking at my disfigured face without horror, when I am by no means sure that
I could have felt redoubled devotion if a similar accident had happened to her?'
'Women are different from us, and not to be judged by the same rules. Beauty--of some sort--is a duty with them, while every one knows that an ugly man makes quicker progress with them than a handsome one.'
'Well, I should like to judge what sort of progress with them my ugliness is likely to make. Give me a looking-glass.' [36]
But he would not. He said the doctor had forbidden me to use my eyes yet, that my face was still unhealed, and the bandages must
not be moved. And finally he declined to talk to me any longer, and told me to go to sleep.
I was not satisfied. I knew that I was getting well fast, that there was no need to keep me in bed, and I felt curious as to the reason of my still being kept so close a prisoner. So I found an opportunity when I had been left, as they thought, asleep, to remove the bandage from my eyes with my left hand. My sight seemed as good as ever, but the skin round about my right eye seemed to be tightly drawn. The window-blinds were down, and as evening was coming on there was only light enough to distinguish dimly the objects in
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the room by the help of the flickering flame of the fire. I got out of bed and walked to the toilet-table, but the looking-glass[37] had been taken away; to the mantelpiece, with the same result. I grew impatient, angry, and rather anxious. There was a hand-glass in my dressing-bag, if I could only find that; I remembered that I had left it in the dressing-room. I dashed into the room, and as that, too, was darkened, I turned to draw up the blind. By that movement I came face to face with a sight so appalling that, of all the misfortunes my accident has ever brought upon me, none, I think, has given me a shock for the first moment so horrible. I saw before me the figure of a man with the face of a devil.
The right eyebrow, the right side of the moustache were gone, and the hair as far as the back of the right ear. The whole of this side of