He has always known them--all. And thus it is, that love
comes and goes unbidden, like the wind which blows where it listeth;
and woman, hearing the sound thereof, cannot tell whence it cometh
nor whither it goeth.
In this particular instance Wesley Elliot had not chosen to examine
the secret movements of his own mind. Baldly speaking, he had
cherished a fleeting fancy for Fanny Dodge, a sort of love in
idleness, which comes to a man like the delicate, floating seeds of
the parasite orchid, capable indeed of exquisite blossoming; but
deadly to the tree upon which it fastens. He had resolved to free
himself. It was a sensible resolve. He was glad he had made up his
mind to it before it was too late. Upon the possible discomfiture of
Fanny Dodge he bestowed but a single thought: She would get over it.
"It" meaning a quite pardonable fancy--he refused to give it a more
specific name--for himself. To the unvoiced opinions of Mrs. Solomon
Black, Mrs. Deacon Whittle, Ellen Dix, Mrs. Abby Daggett and all the
other women of his parish he was wholly indifferent. Men, he was glad
to remember, never bothered their heads about another man's love
affairs....
The chairs from the sitting room had been removed to the yard, where
they were grouped about small tables adequately illuminated by the
moon and numerous Japanese lanterns. Every second chair appeared to
be filled by a giggling, pink-cheeked girl; the others being suitably
occupied by youths of the opposite sex--all pleasantly occupied.
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