"When Jelnik had finished, and I'd caught my breath, I apologized
for having been a dam' nuisance. He explained, delicately,
soothingly, with exquisite politeness, that literary folks of
consequence _have_ to be dam' nuisances at times. It's the price
they pay.
"And now let me speak to you, my little Sophy, as your loving and
loyal friend: _Hold fast to Jelnik._ I knew his father. The position
he occupied wasn't exactly royal, but the elect addressed him as
'thou.' And you have learned somewhat of the Hyndses. In consequence,
your Jelnik is a mixture of South-Carolina-Viennese-Hynds-Jelnik
pride, beside which Satan's is as mild, meek, and innocuous as a
properly raised Anglican curate. Don't meet his pride with pride.
Meet it with _you_, Sophy. Most of us have been loved in our time,
but how few of us have been permitted really to love! That you have
in full measure this heavenliest of all powers, is your hope and his.
"There are times I'm almost sorry you didn't love _me_, Sophy. I
should then have passed my days in a state of pleasant bewilderment,
trying to figure out how the deuce it happened. Or should I, though?
H'm! I might have gotten used to being married to you, and that
would have spelled boredom.
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