human
I hope our bark will meet with no such shoal, or herd as you term it, Caroline. (I suppose you fancy the sea-mammoths pasturing about the bases of the 'everlasting hills,' devouring strange provender in the vast valleys through and above which sea-billows roll.) I should not like to be capsized by the patriarch bull.
gpt
I suppose you expect to see mermaids, Shirley?
human
One of them, at any rate--I do not bargain for less--and she is to appear in some such fashion as this. I am to be walking by myself on deck, rather late of an August evening, watching and being watched by a full harvest moon. Something is to rise white on the surface of the sea, over which that moon mounts silent and hangs glorious. The object glitters and sinks. It rises again. I think I hear it cry with an articulate voice; I call you up from the cabin; I show you an image, fair as alabaster, emerging from the dim wave. We both see the long hair, the lifted and foam-white arm, the oval mirror brilliant as a star. It glides nearer; a human face is plainly visible--a face in the style of yours--whose straight, pure (excuse the word, it is appropriate)--whose straight, pure lineaments paleness does not disfigure. It looks at us, but not with your eyes. I see a preternatural lure in its wily glance. It beckons. Were we men, we should spring at the sign--the cold billow would be dared for the sake of the colder enchantress; being women, we stand safe, though not dreadless. She comprehends our unmoved gaze; she feels herself powerless; anger crosses her front; she cannot charm, but she will appal us; she rises high, and glides all revealed on the dark wave-ridge. Temptress-terror! monstrous likeness of ourselves! Are you not glad, Caroline, when at last, and with a wild shriek, she dives?
gpt
But, Shirley, she is not like us. We are neither temptresses, nor terrors, nor monsters.
human
Some of our kind, it is said, are all three. There are men who ascribe to 'woman,' in general, such attributes.
gpt
My dears, here interrupted Mrs. Pryor,
human
But there is no harm in our fancies; is there, ma'am?
gpt
We are aware that mermaids do not exist; why speak of them as if they did? How can you find interest in speaking of a nonentity?
human
I don't know,
gpt
My dear, I think there is an arrival. I heard a step in the lane while you were talking; and is not that the garden-gate which creaks?
human
Yes, there is some one,