Except that Priscilla, in those days, had no beauty, and, in the languor of her existence, had not yet blossomed into womanhood, there would have been rich food for scandal in these visits; for the girl was unquestionably their sole object, although her father was supposed always to be present.But, it must likewise be added, there was something about Priscilla that calumny could not meddle with; and thus far was she privileged, either by the preponderance of what was spiritual, or the thin and watery blood that left her cheek so pallid.
Yet, if the busy tongues of the neighborhood spared Priscilla in one way, they made themselves amends by renewed and wilder babble on another score.
They averred that the strange gentleman was a wizard, and that he had taken advantage of Priscilla's lack of earthly substance to subject her to himself, as his familiar spirit, through whose medium he gained cognizance of whatever happened, in regions near or remote.The boundaries of his power were defined by the verge of the pit of Tartarus on the one hand, and the third sphere of the celestial world on the other.
Again, they declared their suspicion that the wizard, with all his show of manly beauty, was really an aged and wizened figure, or else that his semblance of a human body was only a necromantic, or perhaps a mechanical contrivance, in which a demon walked about.In proof of it, however, they could merely instance a gold band around his upper teeth, which had once been visible to several old women, when he smiled at them from the top of the governor's staircase.Of course this was all absurdity, or mostly so.But, after every possible deduction, there remained certain very mysterious points about the stranger's character, as well as the connection that he established with Priscilla.Its nature at that period was even less understood than now, when miracles of this kind have grown so absolutely stale, that I would gladly, if the truth allowed, dismiss the whole matter from my narrative.
We must now glance backward, in quest of the beautiful daughter of Fauntleroy's prosperity.What had become of her? Fauntleroy's only brother, a bachelor, and with no other relative so near, had adopted the forsaken child.She grew up in affluence, with native graces clustering luxuriantly about her.In her triumphant progress towards womanhood, she was adorned with every variety of feminine accomplishment.But she lacked a mother's care.With no adequate control, on any hand (for a man, however stern, however wise, can never sway and guide a female child), her character was left to shape itself.There was good in it, and evil.
Passionate, self-willed, and imperious, she had a warm and generous nature; showing the richness of the soil, however, chiefly by the weeds that flourished in it, and choked up the herbs of grace.In her girlhood her uncle died.As Fauntleroy was supposed to be likewise dead, and no other heir was known to exist, his wealth devolved on her, although, dying suddenly, the uncle left no will.After his death there were obscure passages in Zenobia's history.There were whispers of an attachment, and even a secret marriage, with a fascinating and accomplished but unprincipled young man.The incidents and appearances, however, which led to this surmise soon passed away, and were forgotten.
Nor was her reputation seriously affected by the report.In fact, so great was her native power and influence, and such seemed the careless purity of her nature, that whatever Zenobia did was generally acknowledged as right for her to do.The world never criticised her so harshly as it does most women who transcend its rules.It almost yielded its assent, when it beheld her stepping out of the common path, and asserting the more extensive privileges of her ***, both theoretically and by her practice.The sphere of ordinary womanhood was felt to be narrower than her development required.
A portion of Zenobia's more recent life is told in the foregoing pages.
Partly in earnest,--and, I imagine, as was her disposition, half in a proud jest, or in a kind of recklessness that had grown upon her, out of some hidden grief,--she had given her countenance, and promised liberal pecuniary aid, to our experiment of a better social state.And Priscilla followed her to Blithedale.The sole bliss of her life had been a dream of this beautiful sister, who had never so much as known of her existence.
By this time, too, the poor girl was enthralled in an intolerable bondage, from which she must either free herself or perish.She deemed herself safest near Zenobia, into whose large heart she hoped to nestle.
