What a horrid union is this! Oh, dear me, what a horrid union
is this! Such are my reflections, Miss Clack, on my way to Brighton. I
approach Rachel with the feeling of a criminal who is going to receive
his sentence. When I find that she has changed her mind too--when I hear
her propose to break the engagement--I experience (there is no sort of
doubt about it) a most overpowering sense of relief. A month ago I was
pressing her rapturously to my bosom. An hour ago, the happiness of
knowing that I shall never press her again, intoxicates me like strong
liquor. The thing seems impossible--the thing can't be. And yet there
are the facts, as I had the honour of stating them when we first sat
down together in these two chairs. I have lost a beautiful girl, an
excellent social position, and a handsome income; and I have submitted
to it without a struggle. Can you account for it, dear friend? It's
quite beyond ME."
His magnificent head sank on his breast, and he gave up his own mental
problem in despair.
I was deeply touched. The case (if I may speak as a spiritual physician)
was now quite plain to me. It is no uncommon event, in the experience of
us all, to see the possessors of exalted ability occasionally humbled
to the level of the most poorly-gifted people about them.
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