The Daughters of Danaus | Page 6

broad spaces of
the hills, watching the sun set behind them, the homeward flight of the
birds, the approach of darkness and the rising of the stars. Every
instinct that was born in her with her Celtic blood--which lurked still in
the family to the confounding of its fortunes--was fostered by the
mystery and wildness of her surroundings.
Dawn and sunset had peculiar attractions for her.
Although the Preposterous Society had not separated until unusually
late on the previous night, the President was up and abroad on this
exquisite morning, summoned by some "message of range and of
sweep----" to the flushing stretches of pasture and the windy hill-side.
In spite of the view that Hadria had expounded in her capacity of
lecturer, she had an inner sense that somehow, after all, the will can
perform astonishing feats in Fate's despite. Her intellect, rather than her
heart, had opposed the philosophy of Emerson. Her sentiment recoiled
from admitting the possibility of such tragedy as her expressed belief
implied. This morning, the wonder and the grandeur of the dawn
supplied arguments to faith. If the best in human nature were always to
be hunted down and extinguished, if the efforts to rise in the scale of
being, to bring gifts instead of merely absorbing benefits, were only by
a rare combination of chances to escape the doom of annihilation,
where was one to turn to for hope, or for a motive for effort? How
could one reconcile the marvellous beauty of the universe, the miracles
of colour, form, and, above all, of music, with such a chaotic moral
condition, and such unlovely laws in favour of dulness, cowardice,
callousness, cruelty? One aspired to be an upholder and not a destroyer,
but if it were a useless pain and a bootless venture----?
Hadria tried to find some proof of the happier philosophy that would
satisfy her intellect, but it refused to be comforted. Yet as she wandered
in the rosy light over the awakening fields, her heart sang within her.

The world was exquisite, life was a rapture!
She could take existence in her hands and form and fashion it at her
will, obviously, easily; her strength yearned for the task.
Yet all the time, the importunate intellect kept insisting that feeling was
deceptive, that health and youth and the freshness of the morning spoke
in her, and not reason or experience. Feeling was left untouched
nevertheless. It was impossible to stifle the voices that prophesied
golden things. Life was all before her; she was full of vigour and
longing and good will; the world stretched forth as a fair territory, with
magical pathways leading up to dizzy mountain tops. With visions such
as these, the members of the Preposterous Society had fired their
imaginations, and gained impetus for their various efforts and their
various ambitions.
Hadria had been among the most hopeful of the party, and had pointed
to the loftier visions, and the more impersonal aims. Circumstance must
give way, compromise was wrong; we had but a short time in this
world, and mere details and prejudices must not be allowed to interfere
with one's right to live to the utmost of one's scope. But it was easier to
state a law than to obey it; easier to inspire others with faith than to
hold fast to it oneself.
The time for taking matters in one's own hands had scarcely come. A
girl was so helpless, so tied by custom. One could engage, so far, only
in guerilla warfare with the enemy, who lurked everywhere in ambush,
ready to harass the wayfarers with incessant petty attack. But life must
have something more to offer than this--life with its myriad interests,
dramas, mysteries, arts, poetries, delights!
By the river, where it had worn for itself a narrow ravine, with steep
rocky sides or "clints," as they were called, several short tunnels or
passages had been cut in places where the rock projected as far as the
bank of the river, which was followed in its windings by a narrow
footway, leading to the farmstead of Craw Gill.
In one part, a series of such tunnels, with intervals of open pathway,

occurred in picturesque fashion, causing a singular effect of light and
shade.
As Hadria stood admiring the glow of the now fully-risen sun, upon the
wall of rock that rose beyond the opening of the tunnel which she had
just passed through, she heard footsteps advancing along the riverside
path, and guessed that Algitha and Ernest had come to fetch her, or to
join in any absurd project that she might have in view. Although
Algitha was two-and-twenty, and Hadria only a year younger, they
were still guilty at times of wild escapades, with the connivance of their
brothers. Walks or rides at