In so far as her education and culture went,
she was an astonishment. He had met the scientifically smattered young
woman before, but Frona had something more than smattering. Further,
she gave new life to old facts, and her interpretations of common
things were coherent and vigorous and new. Though his acquired
conservatism was alarmed and cried danger, he could not remain cold to
the charm of her philosophizing, while her scholarly attainments were
fully redeemed by her enthusiasm. Though he could not agree with much
that she passionately held, he yet recognized that the passion of
sincerity and enthusiasm was good.
But her chief fault, in his eyes, was her unconventionality. Woman was
something so inexpressibly sacred to him, that he could not bear to see
any good woman venturing where the footing was precarious. Whatever
good woman thus ventured, overstepping the metes and bounds of sex and
status, he deemed did so of wantonness. And wantonness of such order
was akin to--well, he could not say it when thinking of Frona, though
she hurt him often by her unwise acts. However, he only felt such
hurts when away from her. When with her, looking into her eyes which
always looked back, or at greeting and parting pressing her hand which
always pressed honestly, it seemed certain that there was in her
nothing but goodness and truth.
Pages:
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103