The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]

"I rely on myself," said the lady. "I act as I please, and let the whole world say what it will. I am rich enough to set it at defiance. They alone are subject to blind authority who have no reliance on their own strength."

Stella took possession of the recondite apartments. Scythrop intended to find another asylum; but from day to day postponed his intention, and by degrees forgot it. The young lady reminded him from day to day, till she also forgot it.

Scythrop had now as much mystery about him as any romantic transcendentalist could desire. He had his esoterical and his exoterical love, and could not endure the thought of losing either of them. His father's suspicions were aroused by always finding the door locked on visiting Scythrop's study; and one day, hearing a female voice, and, on the door being opened, finding his son alone, he looked around and said:

"Where is the lady?"

Scythrop invited him to search the tower, but Mr. Glowry was not to be deceived. Scythrop talked loudly, hoping to drown his father's voice, in vain.

"I, say, sir, when you are so shortly to be married to your cousin Marionetta----"

The bookcase opened in the middle, and the beautiful Stella appeared, exclaiming:

"Married! Is he going to be married? The profligate!"

"Really, madam," said Mr. Glowry, "I do not know what he is going to do, or what anyone is going to do, for all this is incomprehensible."

"I can explain it all," said Scythrop, "if you will have the goodness to leave us alone."

Stella threw herself into a chair and burst into a passion of tears. Scythrop took her hand. She snatched it away, and turned her back upon him. Scythrop continued entreating Mr. Glowry to leave them alone, but he was obstinate, and would not go.

A tap at the door, and Mr. Hilary entered. He stood a few minutes in silent surprise, then departed in search of Marionetta.

Scythrop was now in a hopeless predicament.

Mr. Hilary made a hue and cry, summoning his wife and Marionetta, and they hastened in consternation to Scythrop's apartments. Mr. Toobad saw them, and judging from their manner that the devil had manifested his wrath in some new shape, followed, and intercepted Stella's flight at the door by catching her in his arms.

"Celinda!" he exclaimed.

"Papa!" said the young lady disconsolately.

"The devil is come among you!" said Mr. Toobad. "How came my daughter here?"

Marionetta, who had fainted, opened her eyes and fixed them on Celinda. Celinda, in turn, fixed hers on Marionetta. Scythrop was equi-distant between them, like Mahomet's coffin.

"Celinda," said Mr. Toobad, "what does this mean? When I told you in London that I had chosen a husband for you, you thought proper to run away from him; and now, to all appearance, you have run away to him."

"How, sir? Was that your choice?"

"Precisely; and if he is yours, too, we shall both be of a mind, for the first time in our lives."

"He is not my choice, sir. This lady has a prior claim. I renounce him."

"And I renounce him!" said Marionetta.

Scythrop knew not what to do. He therefore retreated into his stronghold, mystery; maintained an impenetrable silence, and contented himself with deprecating glances at each of the objects of his idolatry.

The Hon. Mr. Listless, Mr. Flosky, and other guests had been attracted by the tumult, multitudinous questions, and answers en masse, composed a charivari, which was only terminated by Mrs. Hilary and Mr. Toobad retreating with the captive damsels. The whole party followed, leaving Scythrop carefully arranged in a pensive attitude.

IV.--Scythrop's Fate

He was still in this position when the butler entered to announce that dinner was on the table. He refused food, and on being told that the party was much reduced, everybody had gone, requested the butler to bring him a pint of port and a pistol. He would make his exit like Werter, but finally took Raven's advice--to dine first, and be miserable afterwards.

He was sipping his Madeira, immersed in melancholy musing, when his father entered and requested a rational solution of all this absurdity.

"I will leave it in writing for your satisfaction. The crisis of my fate is come. The world is a stage, and my direction is exit."

"Do not talk so, sir; do not talk so, Scythrop! What would you have?"

"I would have my love."

"And pray, sir, who is your love?"

"Celinda--Marionetta--either--both."

"Both! That may do very well in a German tragedy, but it will not do in Lincolnshire. Will you have Miss Toobad?"

"Yes."

"And renounce Marionetta?"

"No."

"But you must renounce one."

"I cannot."

"And you cannot have both. What is to be done?"

"I must shoot myself!"

"Don't talk so, Scythrop! Be rational, Scythrop! Consider, and make a cool, calm choice, and I will exert myself on your behalf."

"Well, sir, I will have--no, sir, I cannot renounce either. I cannot choose either, and I have no resource but a pistol."