Happily it was as yet more her judgment than her heart that was
perverted. But had she spoken out what was in her thoughts as she
looked over the great wallowing water, she would have merely said
that for all that Liftore was no worse than other men. They were
all the same. It was very unpleasant; but how could a lady help
it? If men would behave so, were by nature like that, women must
not make themselves miserable about it. They need ask no questions.
They were not supposed to be acquainted with the least fragment of
the facts, and they must cleave to their ignorance, and lay what
blame there might be on the women concerned. The thing was too
indecent even to think about.
Ostrich-like they must hide their heads--close their eyes and
take the vice in their arms--to love, honour, and obey, as if it
were virtue's self, and men as pure as their demands on their wives.
There are thousands that virtually reason thus: Only ignore the
thing effectually, and for you it is not. Lie right thoroughly
to yourself, and the thing is gone. The lie destroys the fact. So
reasoned Lady Macbeth--until conscience at last awoke, and she
could no longer keep even the smell of the blood from her. What
need Lady Lossie care about the fisher girl, or any other concerned
with his past, so long as he behaved like a gentleman to her!
Malcolm was a foolish meddling fellow, whose interference was the
more troublesome that it was honest
She stood thus gazing on the waters that heaved and swept astern,
but without knowing that she saw them, her mind full of such nebulous
matter as, condensed, would have made such thoughts as I have set
down.
Pages:
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424