Yellow Nineties 2.0 The Yellow Book: An Illustrated Quarterly, Volume 5 April 1895 <editor>Lorraine Janzen Kooistra</editor> </titleStmt> <editionStmt> <p> <date>2019</date> </p> </editionStmt> <publicationStmt> <idno>YBV5_23pr</idno> <publisher>Yellow Nineties 2.0</publisher> <pubPlace>Ryerson University Centre for Digital Humanities</pubPlace> <address> <addrLine>English Department</addrLine> <addrLine>350 Victoria Street,</addrLine> <addrLine>Toronto ON,</addrLine> <addrLine>M5B 2K3</addrLine> <addrLine>Canada</addrLine> </address> <availability> <p>Usable according to the Creative Commons License <ref target="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/">Attribution Non-commercial Share-alike</ref>.</p> </availability> </publicationStmt> <sourceDesc> <biblStruct> <monogr> <editor> <persName>Henry Harland</persName> </editor> <author>C. S.</author> <title>"For Ever and Ever" John Lane London Copeland & Day Boston April 1895 C. S. [Arthur Cosslett Smith]. "'For Ever and Ever.'" The Yellow Book, vol. 5, April 1895, pp. 172-173. Yellow Book Digital Edition, edited by Dennis Denisoff and Lorraine Janzen Kooistra, 2010-2014. Yellow Nineties 2.0, Ryerson University Centre for Digital Humanities, 2019. https://1890s.ca/YBV5_cs_for/

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 1895 English English literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals Great Britain -- Periodicals Nonfiction Possible Genres (multiple): "Fiction," "Nonfiction," "Poetry," "Paratext" (TOC, prospecti, advertisements, frontmatter, titlepage), "Review" (older reviews), "Criticism" (including critical introductions), "Visual Art" (images, bio images), Historiography (bios),"Bibliography" (intros, crit, bios, anything with a bibliography attached), "Drama," "Ephemera," "Translation," "Religion," "Travel Writing," "Music, Other,") Periodical Possible Types (singular): "Periodical" (texts/most stuff), "Interactive Resource" (current writing, biographies, not old reviews), "Still Image" (images, visual art), "Physical Object" (posters, prospecti) Book History Literature Possible Disciplines (multiple): "Book History (include for all periodical items)," "Literature," "Art History (use for art, also use for reviews)," "History (don't use in a general sense)," "Theatre Studies," "Musicology," "Philosophy," "Anthropology," "Science"
" For Ever and Ever " By C. S.

IN the cold grey dawn I sit up and look at the woman by my side. One soft little white hand peeps out from the dainty lace, and on one ringer is a gold ring. There is just such another upon my own finger ; and these two rings bind us to one another for ever and ever. And I am tired already.

She moves in her sleep, and buries her face deeper in the heavy folds of the bed-clothes. The little hand is still out, and lies so near me (so temptingly near, as I should have thought only a little while ago) that I can trace the faint blue lines in it as I have done many a time before. But now . . . how horrible it all seems !

She stirs again, and draws the hand into the lace so that it is almost hidden. How pretty she looks ! . . . with her silky brown hair. Ah, why do I find it so difficult to think of her, even when she is before my eyes thus ? Why do I never think of her when she is absent ? Why do great masses of tumbling black hair come into my mind, while I watch this soft brown tangle on the pillow before me ? I have tried to beat down these thoughts —but they will come . . . and how can I help myself?

Look at her neck—how white it is ! And yet—and yet, why does a warm brown something continually haunt me ? A living something which brings with it the sun, the sky, and the sea ?

Our By C. S. 173

Our boy sleeps in a little room adjoining. I creep in and look at him. He is asleep, and has curled himself up almost into a ball, with one tiny fist in his mouth. I dare not move it to give him more air, lest he should wake and cry out. As I look a horrible feeling of loneliness comes over me. . . . He is her child . . . our child ... I creep back to bed. Thank Heaven her eyes are shut ! . . . Those eyes so solemn and blue.

And in the morning she tells me a curious dream she had last night. And this is it :

" I dreamed that a dark woman with wonderful black hair came and stood by our bed ; and stooping, put her arms about you and kissed you passionately many times, smoothing your forehead with her hand. And I tried to cry out, but could not from fear. And suddenly looking up, she saw me watching her ; and her face grew hard and cruel. And she came round, and stood and looked at me ; and I trembled. And presently taking hold of me, she tried to pull me out of bed, but something held me down : and she gave up, and went and sat by the dull cold grate, and wept bitterly. And I felt sorry for her in spite of all, because she had no one to comfort her as I have : and I got up to go to her. But the cruel hard look crept back into her face—and then I woke, and saw you, and the empty chair, and the bright sunlight darting round the edges of the blinds, and found it was only a dream."

And what can I say ? . . . What can I do ? ... How can I help myself? . . .