“As she mingled among the gay groupes that filled the place, one might
observe a certain air that distinguished her from every female
there,--not by pretension to superiority, (of that her unequalled
loveliness must have acquitted her, even to the vainest of the groupe),
but by an untainted, unsophisticated character, diffusing itself over
look and motion, and even thought--turning wildness into grace--giving
an emphasis to a single exclamation, that made polished sentences sound
trifling--for ever trespassing against etiquette with vivid and fearless
enthusiasm, and apologizing the next moment with such timid and graceful
repentance, that one doubted whether the offence or the apology were
most delightful. “She presented altogether a singular contrast to the measured tones, the
mincing gait, and the organized uniformity of dress, and manner, and
look, and feeling, of the females about her. The harness of art was upon
every limb and feature from their birth, and its trappings concealed or
crippled every movement which nature had designed for graceful. But in
the movement of this young female, there was a bounding elasticity, a
springiness, a luxuriant and conscious vitality, that made every action
the expression of thought; and then, as she shrunk from the disclosure,
made it the more exquisite interpreter of feeling. There was around her
a mingled light of innocence and majesty, never united but in _her_ sex. Men may long retain, and even confirm, the character of power which
nature has stamped on their frames, but they very soon forfeit their
claim to the expression of innocence. “Amid the vivid and eccentric graces of a form that seemed like a comet
in the world of beauty, bound by no laws, or by laws that she alone
understood and obeyed, there was a shade of melancholy, that, to a
superficial observer, seemed transitory and assumed, perhaps as a
studied relief to the glowing colours of a picture so brilliant, but
which, to other eyes, announced, that with all the energies of intellect
occupied,--with all the instincts of sense excited,--the heart had as
yet no inmate, and wanted one. “The groupe who had been conversing about the stranger, felt their
attention irresistibly attracted by this object; and the low murmur of
their fearful whispers was converted into broken exclamations of delight
and wonder, as the fair vision passed them. She had not long done so,
when the stranger was seen slowly returning, seeming, as before, known
to all, but knowing none. As the female party turned, they encountered
him. His emphatic glance selected and centered in one alone. She saw him
too, recognized him, and, uttering a wild shriek, fell on the earth
senseless. “The tumult occasioned by this accident, which so many witnessed, and
none knew the cause of, for some moments drew off the attention of all
from the stranger--all were occupied either in assisting or inquiring
after the lady who had fainted. She was borne to her carriage by more
assistants than she needed or wished for--and just as she was lifted
into it, the voice of some one near her uttered the word “Immalee!” She
recognized the voice, and turned, with a look of anguish and a feeble
cry, towards the direction from which it proceeded. Those around her had
heard the sound,--but as they did not understand its meaning, or know to
whom it was addressed, they ascribed the lady’s emotion to
indisposition, and hastened to place her in her carriage. It drove away,
but the stranger pursued its course with his eyes--the company
dispersed, he remained alone--twilight faded into darkness--he appeared
not to notice the change--a few still continued lingering at the
extremity of the walk to mark him--they were wholly unmarked by him. “One who remained the longest said, that he saw him use the action of
one who wipes away a tear hastily. To his eyes the tear of penitence was
denied for ever. Could this have been the tear of passion? If so, how
much woe did it announce to its object! CHAPTER XX. Oh what was love made for, if ’tis not the same
    Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame! I know not, I ask not, what guilt’s in thine heart,
    I but know I must love thee, whatever thou art. MOORE. “The next day, the young female who had excited so much interest the
preceding evening, was to quit Madrid, to pass a few weeks at a villa
belonging to her family, at a short distance from the city. That family,
including all the company, consisted of her mother Donna Clara di
Aliaga, the wife of a wealthy merchant, who was monthly expected to
return from the Indies; her brother Don Fernan di Aliaga, and several
servants; for these wealthy citizens, conscious of their opulence and
formerly high descent, piqued themselves upon travelling with no less
ceremony and pompous tardiness than accompanied the progress of a
grandee. So the old square-built, lumbering carriage, moved on like a
hearse; the coachman sat fast asleep on the box; and the six black
horses crawled at a pace like the progress of time when he visits
affliction. Beside the carriage rode Fernan di Aliaga and his servants,
with umbrellas and huge spectacles; and within it were placed Donna
Clara and her daughter. The interior of this arrangement was the
counterpart of its external appearance,--all announced dullness,
formality, and withering monotony. “Donna Clara was a woman of a cold and grave temper, with all the
solemnity of a Spaniard, and all the austerity of a bigot. Don Fernan
presented that union of fiery passion and saturnic manners not unusual
among Spaniards. His dull and selfish pride was wounded by the
recollection of his family having been in trade; and, looking on the
unrivalled beauty of his sister as a possible means of his obtaining an
alliance with a family of rank, he viewed her with that kind of selfish
partiality as little honourable to him who feels it, as to her who was
its object. “And it was amid such beings that the vivid and susceptible Immalee, the
daughter of nature, “the gay creature of the elements,” was doomed to
wither away the richly-coloured and exquisitely-scented flower of an
existence so ungenially transplanted. Her singular destiny seemed to
have removed her from a physical wilderness, to place her in a moral
one. And, perhaps, her last state was worse than her first. “It is certain that the gloomiest prospect presents nothing so chilling
as the aspect of human faces, in which we try in vain to trace one
corresponding expression; and the sterility of nature itself is luxury
compared to the sterility of human hearts, which communicate all the
desolation they feel.