"Ah, Shelley!" cried Adderley--"Shelley the divine! And how divinely you utter his lines! Do you know the last verse of that poem:--'I sang of the dancing stars'?"
Cicely raised her hand, commanding attention, and went on: "'I sang of the dancing stars, I sang of the daedal Earth, And of Heaven,--and the giant wars, And Love and Death and Birth. And then I changed my pipings,-- Singing, how down the vale of Menalus, I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed, Gods and men, we are all deluded thus! It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed; All wept, as I think both ye now would, If envy or age had not frozen your blood, At the sorrow of my sweet pipings!'"
"Beau-tiful!--beau-tiful!" sighed Adderley--"But so remote!--so very remote! Alas!--who reads Shelley now!"
"I do"--said Cicely--"Maryllia does. You do. And many more. Shelley didn't write for free-libraries and public-houses. He wrote for the love of Art,--and he was drowned. You do the same, and perhaps you'll be hung! It doesn't much matter how you end, so long as you begin to be something no one else can be."
"You have certainly begun in that direction!" said Julian.
Cicely shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't know! I am myself. Most people try to be what they're not. Such a waste of time and effort! That's why I've taken a fancy to the parson I met this morning, Mr. Walden. He is himself and no other. He is as much himself as old Josey Letherbarrow is. Josey is an individuality. So is Mr. Walden. So is Maryllia. So am I. And"-- here she pointed a witch-like finger at Adderley--"so would you bes if you didn't 'pose' as much as you do!"
"Cicely!" murmured Maryllia, warningly, though she smiled.
A slight flush swept over Adderley's face. But he took the remark without offence, thereby showing himself to be of better mettle than the little affectations of his outward appearance indicated.
"You think so?" he said, placidly--"That is very dear of you!--very young! You may be right--you may be wrong,--but from one so unsophisticated as yourself it is a proposition worth considering-- to pose, or not to pose! It is so new--so fresh!"