These words to a stranger would have conveyed nothing but a sort of
merry banter, nor was there more conveyed in the tone, yet I, who had
studied the nature of the speaker well, thought I discovered an
undercurrent of sarcasm in the word "intellectual," as if she was
perfectly sure that no conversation between us could be intellectual. "There is many a true word spoken in jest," I replied. "I assure you
that our conversation _has_ been _most_ intellectual. Miss Maud's ideas
are so lofty, that it is really quite an effort on my part to follow
her," said I, with a smile, though I really meant what I said. "I wish she would let us have the benefit of them," said the other
sister, laughing, imagining, of course, that I had spoken satirically. "She never favours us with any of those lofty ideas." "No?" said I, affecting astonishment. "Then I must be a favoured
individual. Miss Maud's case is, however, not without parallel. Many of
our greatest minds have been most reserved and unassuming. It is a
characteristic of genius to be retired, though, if I had the abilities
of Miss Maud, I am sure I should be too vain to keep them secret." This was uttered with a sincerity of manner on my part that checked the
laugh that might have arisen from the sisters, and they were silent. The
mother looked at us both, first at one and then at the other, in
amazement, as if she half-believed me, and scrutinised Maud very
narrowly, as if she fancied she must either be a great fool or very
deep. In the course of the afternoon the lady of the house took me aside and
asked me if I were in earnest in my eulogium of Maud's intellect. I replied that I was decidedly. "What a strange girl it is!" she exclaimed. "She never seems to take any
interest in anything or anybody around her. In fact, we none of us can
make her out. What do you think now is the reason of this strange
reserve towards her own kindred?" "Well, madam," I answered, "if I must tell you my real opinion, her
nature is an uncommon one, and can only live in the society of other
uncommon natures. Her silence I attribute to an excessive sensitiveness,
which not rarely accompanies genius, and which proceeds from a
consciousness that she is not easily understood." "But surely, Mr. Blackdeed," said the lady of the house, "one would
expect that she would open her heart to her own flesh and blood, rather
than to a comparative stranger like yourself." "The idiosyncrasies of temperament, madam," said I, "are difficult to
explain. The mere accident of relationship will not necessarily give a
similarity of disposition. Occasionally we do find one in a family
totally unlike the rest, and therefore misunderstood by them. The reason
why Miss Maud takes no interest in what is conventionally termed society
is that she feels above it. She pants, as it were, for a higher
atmosphere. For this reason she prefers lone rambles and the
contemplation of beautiful nature, with no companion save her own
thoughts, to the artificial society of the ball-room, with its insipid
conversation. "She evidently lives completely in a world of her own, into which she
will admit but very few. To judge from her conversation, she seems
excessively well read, and acquainted with authors who rarely form a
part of a young lady's education. You must have observed that she reads
very much. Indeed, I was perfectly astounded at her research, as well as
the originality of her remarks." "Ah!" sighed the mother, "she is a very odd girl. It is true that she is
always reading. I have seen some strange books, too, in her library, but
to tell you the truth, Mr. Blackdeed, neither myself nor any of the
family ever thought for a moment that she really had anything in her. Her sisters look upon her as a perfect ninny." "A great mistake," I observed; "and if you will take my advice, you will
try to understand her better. It may be difficult at first to get into
her confidence. It is a nature that requires great sympathy and
encouragement and if once ridiculed at any idea she expressed, which to
you might appear strange or wild, you may be sure that she will close
the doors of her confidence upon you once again and for ever." At this moment the master of the house came to meet us, and inform us
that dinner was ready. At dinner time I was seated opposite Maud. She
was thoughtful and dreamy as usual all the while, and when addressed by
any of the family would start as if out of a dream. This peculiarity of hers was not taken notice of either by the family or
the servants, who were accustomed to her eccentricity, and the dinner
passed off without any conversation worth recording. In the evening we
assembled again to take a dish of tea together. Maud was still silent
and pensive, and while the others were conversing together, I could not
help admiring the calm, intellectual serenity of her countenance. I fell into a reverie, my eye being fixed upon her with intense
interest, when to my surprise and horror, she suddenly fell back in her
chair and became as one lifeless. "Maud! my dear, my dear!" exclaimed her mother, "what can you be
thinking of, to fall asleep like that in company," while her two
sisters, between whom she was sitting, began to shake her, but to their
surprise she felt as rigid as a corpse in their hands, and appeared as
insensible. "Mamma!" cried one of them, now really frightened. "Send for the
doctor." Someone went to fetch a glass of cold water, but as I never assisted any
lady before in such a predicament, and not knowing exactly what to do, I
did not offer my services until I was asked to support Maud, who was
falling off her chair, when I rushed suddenly to her aid, and seizing
her by the shoulders, replaced her on the seat. My hands had no sooner
touched her than she again awoke, and opening her eyes sleepily, gazed
about her wonderingly. It would seem as if my will that she should recover were sufficient, for
I touched her so gently that it was impossible the mere touch could have
awakened her out of the deep magnetic trance I had unwittingly sent her
into. "How do you feel now, dear?" said her mother. "What can be the meaning
of this swoon? Has it ever happened to you before?" "No, never." "I must consult a doctor about it," said her mother. "It may be the
beginning of a series of fits, and must be looked into." Wonderments on all hands were expressed as to what could be the origin
of this unexpected swoon, but I saw from a look Maud gave me that she
was aware that it arose from my influence over her. Maud and myself
alone were in the secret, but I was more cautious for the future, and
dared not look too fixedly at her, for fear of bringing on another
trance. We spent many happy days together while I was staying at this
country seat, and I enjoyed much of Maud's charming conversation. But
soon I was recalled to London to continue my theatrical career, so I
took leave of the family, and started with the stage for London.