CHAPTER [I.] <XVIII>
DAY after day, week after week, passed away on my
return to Geneva; and I could not collect the courage to
recommence my work. I feared the vengeance of the disappointed
fiend, yet I was unable to overcome my repugnance to the task
which was enjoined me. I found that I could not compose a female
without again devoting several months to profound study and
laborious disquisition. I had heard of some discoveries having
been made by an English philosopher, the knowledge of which was
material to my success, and I sometimes thought of obtaining my
father's consent to visit England for this purpose; but I clung
to every pretence of delay, and [could not resolve to
interrupt my returning tranquillity. My] <shrunk from
taking the first step in an undertaking whose immediate necessity
began to appear less absolute to me. A change indeed had taken
place in me: my> health, which had hitherto declined, was
now much restored; and my spirits, when unchecked by the memory
of my unhappy promise, rose proportionably. My father saw this
change with pleasure, and he turned his thoughts towards the best
method of eradicating the remains of my melancholy, which every
now and then would return by fits, and with a devouring blackness
overcast the approaching sunshine. At these moments I took refuge
in the most perfect solitude. I passed whole days on the lake
alone in a little boat, watching the clouds, and listening to the
rippling of the waves, silent and listless. But the fresh air and
bright sun seldom failed to restore me to some degree of
composure; and, on my return, I met the salutations of my friends
with a readier smile and a more cheerful heart.
It was after my return from one of these rambles that my father,
calling me aside, thus addressed me:--
"I am happy to remark, my dear son, that you have resumed your
former pleasures, and seem to be returning to yourself. And yet
you are still unhappy, and still avoid our society. For some time
I was lost in conjecture as to the cause of this; but yesterday
an idea struck me, and if it is well founded, I conjure you to
avow it. Reserve on such a point would be not only useless, but
draw down treble misery on us all."
