And this divine contralto, full, yet penetrating,
Dame Nature had inspired her to lower when she was moved or excited,
instead of raising it; and then she was enchanting. All unconsciously she
cast this crowning spell on Alfred, and he adored her. In a word, he
caught a child-woman away from its mother; his fluttering captive turned,
put on composure, and bewitched him.
She left him, and the moonlight night seemed to blacken. But within his
young breast all was light, new light. He leaned opposite her window in
an Elysian reverie, and let the hours go by. He seemed to have vegetated
till then, and lo! true life had dawned. He thought he should love to die
for her; and, when he was calmer, he felt he was to live for her, and
welcomed his destiny with rapture. He passed the rest of the Oxford term
in a soft ecstasy; called often on Edward, and took a sudden and
prodigious interest in him; and counted the days glide by and the happy
time draw near, when he should be four months in the same town with his
enchantress. This one did not trouble the doctors; he glowed with a
steady fire; no heats and chills, and sad misgivings; for one thing, he
was not a woman, a being tied to that stake, Suspense, and compelled to
wait and wait for others' actions.
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