In her earth-life, too, she became more obviously ill-tempered; and, as to a
woman of her type revenge only means one thing, she amused the garrison
exceedingly by attempting flirtations. The rule of the Profess-House
happened to include the virtue of chastity, which is an active and positive
thing, a passion, not that mere colourless abstinence and stagnation which
passes in Puritan countries by that [289] name, breeds more wickedness than
all the vice on the planet, and, at the best, is shared by clinkers.
She was clever enough to see in a few hours that she was only making
herself utterly ridiculous; but this again did not tend to improve her temper,
as many devout ladies, from Dido to Potiphar's wife, have been at the pains to
indicate to our psychologists.
The situation grew daily more strained, with now and then an explosion
which cleared the air for a while. The discipline of the Profess-House
prevented the trouble from spreading; but Cyril Grey confided to Brother
Onofrio that he was angrier than ever at the efficient way in which Edwin
Arthwait and his merry men had been put out of business.
"I'd give my ears," said Cyril, "to see Edwin, arm in arm with Lucifuge
Rofocale, coming up from the bay to destroy us all by means of the
Mysterious Amulet of Rabbi Solomon, conferring health, wealth and
happiness, with bag complete; also lucky moles and love-charms, price two
eleven three to regular subscribers to The Occult Review."
But with June a great and happy change came over Iliel. She became
enthralled by the prospect of the miracle that was so soon to blossom on her
breast. Her sulkiness vanished; she was blithe and joyous from the day's
beginning to its end. She bore fatigue and discomfort without a murmur. She
made friends with Sister Clara, and talked to her for hours while she plied her
needle upon those necessary and now delightful tasks of making tiny and
dainty settings for the expected jewel. She clean forgot the irksomeness of
her few restrictions; she recovered all the gaiety and buoyancy of youth;
indeed, she had to be cautioned in the mere physical matter of activity. No
longer did she indulge morbid fancies, or take unwholesome pleasure in the
contemplation of evil ideas. She was at home in her heaven of romance, [290]
the heroine of the most wonderful story in the world. Her love for Cyril
showed a tender and more exalted phase; she became alive to her dignity and
responsibility. She acquired also a sense of Nature which she had never had
before in all her life; she felt a brotherhood with every leaf and flower of the
garden, told herself stories of the loves of the fishermen whose sails dotted