Love Instigated | Page 3

Carved Odalisque--for such my fevered fancy Pictured it--was ever Glaring at me with its Sinister Glare!
And when our Ghostly Talk was Interrupted By the Entrance of other Guests, I Quaffed Another Crystal Goblet of My Friend's Brain-Maddening Concoction, and casting a long, lingering Look at the Persian Rug which hid the Graeco-Romanesque Architecture of the vaulted Ceiling, I passed from the Gothic Portals of this Esthetic Shrine into the outer darkness--beyond the glamour of the Seven Lamps of Architecture.
But,--Oh Fitful Fate!--as I passed though The Long, Quiet Hall and by the wine-colored Plush Corner from whose Voluptuous Shadow The Sinister-Eyed, Carved-Ivory-Handle Odalisque cast an Alluring, Appealing Look toward Me, and all Unconsciously, Unintentionally, and Unresistingly I Took it from its Hand-Painted China Receptacle, and closing the Heavy doors of Rolled, Cathedral Plate Glass After me, I Unfurled its Sun-Tanned Gingham Folds to the aforementioned warring elements. And as I Wended my Desolate Way to the Sainted Shrine of Pendennis, my Seething Brain Peopled the Valley of Unrest with Elfs, And Ravens and Brahman Gods, and the Dagger whose blood-stain belonged to a Venetian Duke. When I Presently Entered the Resounding Cloisters of the Order of ST. PENDENNIS--when I entered this "House without a Woman" I sought the seclusion of a dark, Wine-Colored, Plush-Lined Cell, and carelessly placing the Tanned Gingham, Vegetable-Ivory-handled Umbrella on the Eighteenth Century Hearth before me,
I threw my mentally-exhausted frame into a a Massive, Damask-covered Chair with heavily-carved Arms of highly-polished Oak, and sounded the Tiny, Tintinnabulating Call-Bell for Something to Counteract the Effects of the Too-exhilerating Potables of my Friend, and his no less Harrowing Stories!
But while I thus sat waiting, with my feet to The Comfortable Fire, all at once my Gaze was Unconsciously, Unintentionally and Unresistingly Transfixed by the Sinister Glance of The Dexter Eye of the Carved-Ivory Odalisque.
And as I sat there in the Twilight Glare of the Slowly-Consuming Embers on the Wide and Deep, Old-Fashioned, Open Fire-place, with Lacquered-Brass Fire-Dogs--beneath the Spell of those Stealthy, Roguish Glances, I, against My Wish and Will, was led to Think of The dark, strange and weirdly grotesque things of which My Friend had Told me.
And finally, as under the Strange Fascination of the Vitreous Dexter and Sinister Eyes of The Carved-Ivory Odalisque, which Held me Spell-Bound, I Learned from the Thin, Curled Lips of the said Carved-Ivory Odalisque its Own Story.
It was not Created by Love.
Nor was it in Itself the Embodiment of Love. But it Bore in one of its Flexible Ribs the Tangible Evidence of the Adhesive Qualities of a Love Driven Back upon itself,--the Concentration of an Otherwise Wasted Force.
Less than a Thousand Years ago, a Dudish Roderick Dhu stood Flustrated with Fiery Indignation, face to face with a Maiden Priestess--a Prideful, Haughty Woman!
It was on the Rue Quatrieme. It was at the Intersection of two great Thoroughfares.
The Clouds had Parted their Bangs in the Middle, and were Shimmering their Crystal Drops of Distilled Ocean in torrental volume upon the Luckless Wayfarers.
It chanced that the Prideful Maiden Priestess Was Hurrying adown the Boulevard with the Self-same Carved-Ivory-Handled Umbrella Closely Clasped in Her Delicate Marie Antoinette fingers. She was thus Ensconced Behind the Sheltering Tautness of the Stout-ribbed Gingham Umbrella With the Carved-Ivory Handle, when she passed out of the Shadow of The Massive Marble Edifice of Gothic Architecture and turned into the Rue de la Chataigne--and Unconsciously, Unintentionally and Unresistingly Punched a Tear out of the Dexter Eye of the Resistless Roderick Dhu!
I am sure that Carved-Ivory, Oggling Odalisque was to Blame! I am sure that it Wantonly Drove the Spare Rib of the Stout Gingham Umbrella to the Accomplishment of its own Foul Purpose!
The Prideful Maiden Priestess had great Commiseration for the Ardent Roderick.
She Frankly Told him so.
And in a Tacit but Potent--Oh, so Potent--Way, bade him, if he liked, to go with her to her Shrine and there have his Weeping Wounds Bound up with "a Bit of East India Silk,"--at her Shrine, whose Doors should ever be Open to Him.
Oh! Chance, Fortuitous Chance! How many Followers of St. Pendennis are Annually Ensnared in thy Name!
Ere Long,--within a Month, a Little Month--the Dudish Roderick Dhu was a cringing devotee at the Vestal Shrine of the Maiden Priestess, Praying that she should receive all his Suppliant Love, and "right smart" of his devotion. He would never leave Her Side. He would Never, never Smile on other Maidens. He would Sacrifice each Trusted and Trusting Friend and Creditor. She MUST receive his Heart and Hand, and his Partially-Eclipsed Occular!
Else, where, all the while, was all this Wealth of Passionate Love to go to--If it was Spurned and Sent Back to its Donor? Who would have it Second-Handed?
This was, indeed, a Poser.
It was Unanswerable!
She did not Attempt to Answer it. She only Considered