Then
arose upon me the remembrance of the misery that had fallen upon
Winnie and myself from his monomania and what seemed to me his
superstitious folly, and I could not withhold an angry scowl. Then
came the picture of the poor scarred breast, the love-token, and the
martyrdom that came to him who had too deeply loved, and smile and
frown both passed from my face as I murmured,--'Poor father! he
famous!
'Philip Aylwin's son!' said Wilderspin, staring at me. Then, raising
his hat as reverentially to me as if I had been the son of
Shakespeare himself, he said, 'Mr. Aylwin, since Mary Wilderspin went
home to heaven, the one great event of my life has been the reading
of _The Veiled Queen_, your father's book of inspired wisdom upon the
modern Renascence of Wonder in the mind of Man. To apply his
principles to Art, sir--to give artistic rendering to the profound
idea hinted at in the marvellous vignette on the title-page of his
third edition--has been, for some time past, the proud task of my
life. And you are the great man's son! Astonishing! Although his
great learning overwhelms my mind and appals my soul (whom, indeed,
should it not overwhelm and appal?) there is not a pamphlet of his
that I do not know intimately, almost by heart.
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