PART FIRST: THE SILVER OF THE MINE
6. CHAPTER SIX
 (continued)
He left her to walk down the hill, and directly he found himself
 
alone he became sober. That irreparable change a death makes in
 
the course of our daily thoughts can be felt in a vague and
 
poignant discomfort of mind.  It hurt Charles Gould to feel that
 
never more, by no effort of will, would he be able to think of
 
his father in the same way he used to think of him when the poor
 
man was alive. His breathing image was no longer in his power.
 
This consideration, closely affecting his own identity, filled
 
his breast with a mournful and angry desire for action. In this
 
his instinct was unerring.  Action is consolatory. It is the
 
enemy of thought and the friend of flattering illusions. Only in
 
the conduct of our action can we find the sense of mastery over
 
the Fates. For his action, the mine was obviously the only field.
 
It was imperative sometimes to know how to disobey the solemn
 
wishes of the dead. He resolved firmly to make his disobedience
 
as thorough (by way of atonement) as it well could be. The mine
 
had been the cause of an absurd moral disaster; its working must
 
be made a serious and moral success. He owed it to the dead man's
 
memory. Such were the--properly speaking--emotions of Charles
 
Gould. His thoughts ran upon the means of raising a large amount
 
of capital in San Francisco or elsewhere; and incidentally there
 
occurred to him also the general reflection that the counsel of
 
the departed must be an unsound guide.  Not one of them could be
 
aware beforehand what enormous changes the death of any given
 
individual may produce in the very aspect of the world. 
 
The latest phase in the history of the mine Mrs.  Gould knew from
 
personal experience. It was in essence the history of her married
 
life. The mantle of the Goulds' hereditary position in Sulaco had
 
descended amply upon her little person; but she would not allow
 
the peculiarities of the strange garment to weigh down the
 
vivacity of her character, which was the sign of no mere
 
mechanical sprightliness, but of an eager intelligence.  It must
 
not be supposed that Mrs. Gould's mind was masculine. A woman
 
with a masculine mind is not a being of superior efficiency; she
 
is simply a phenomenon of imperfect
 
differentiation--interestingly barren and without importance.
 
Dona Emilia's intelligence being feminine led her to achieve the
 
conquest of Sulaco, simply by lighting the way for her
 
unselfishness and sympathy. She could converse charmingly, but
 
she was not talkative. The wisdom of the heart having no concern
 
with the erection or demolition of theories any more than with
 
the defence of prejudices, has no random words at its command.
 
The words it pronounces have the value of acts of integrity,
 
tolerance, and compassion. A woman's true tenderness, like the
 
true virility of man, is expressed in action of a conquering
 
kind. The ladies of Sulaco adored Mrs. Gould. "They still look
 
upon me as something of a monster," Mrs. Gould had said
 
pleasantly to one of the three gentlemen from San Francisco she
 
had to entertain in her new Sulaco house just about a year after
 
her marriage. 
 
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