Looking Backward from 2000 to 1887 by Edward Bellamy

Author:Edward Bellamy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ozymandias Press

CHAPTER 16

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NEXT MORNING I ROSE SOMEWHAT before the breakfast hour. As I descended the stairs, Edith stepped into the hall from the room which had been the scene of the morning interview between us described some chapters back.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, with a charmingly arch expression, “you thought to slip out unbeknown for another of those solitary morning rambles which have such nice effects on you. But you see I am up too early for you this time. You are fairly caught.”

“You discredit the efficacy of your own cure,” I said, “by supposing that such a ramble would now be attended with bad consequences.”

“I am very glad to hear that,” she said. “I was in here arranging some flowers for the breakfast table when I heard you come down, and fancied I detected something surreptitious in your step on the stairs.”

“You did me injustice,” I replied. “I had no idea of going out at all.”

Despite her effort to convey an impression that my interception was purely accidental, I had at the time a dim suspicion of what I afterwards learned to be the fact, namely, that this sweet creature, in pursuance of her self-assumed guardianship over me, had risen for the last two or three mornings at an unheard-of hour, to insure against the possibility of my wandering off alone in case I should be affected as on the former occasion. Receiving permission to assist her in making up the breakfast bouquet, I followed her into the room from which she had emerged.

“Are you sure,” she asked, “that you are quite done with those terrible sensations you had that morning?”

“I can’t say that I do not have times of feeling decidedly queer,” I replied, “moments when my personal identity seems an open question. It would be too much to expect after my experience that I should not have such sensations occasionally, but as for being carried entirely off my feet, as I was on the point of being that morning, I think the danger is past.”

“I shall never forget how you looked that morning,” she said.

“If you had merely saved my life,” I continued, “I might, perhaps, find words to express my gratitude, but it was my reason you saved, and there are no words that would not belittle my debt to you.” I spoke with emotion, and her eyes grew suddenly moist.

“It is too much to believe all this,” she said, “but it is very delightful to hear you say it. What I did was very little. I was very much distressed for you, I know. Father never thinks anything ought to astonish us when it can be explained scientifically, as I suppose this long sleep of yours can be, but even to fancy myself in your place makes my head swim. I know that I could not have borne it at all.”

“That would depend,” I replied, “on whether an angel came to support you with her sympathy in the crisis of your condition, as one came to me.” If

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