Dialogue between Adlai and Dr. Lucius Hindley (Excerpt from Book I, The Oath, Chapter 14, "Night Visit in The Tower" (c) Copyright of C.A. CLARK
Dr. Hindley seemed in possession of greater vigor and strength than his tiny stature and portly figure portrayed, for he hurried on at such a brisk pace that Adlai was soon winded in her efforts to keep up.
“I wonder that I never knew of this tower,” Adlai puffed behind him, hoping that conversation might slow his speed. “Indeed, I never even heard of such a door or stair being mentioned before, by anyone here.”
“Quite,” laughed the little man as he paused momentarily upon the stair. “Yes, it would seem that Milady thought I should be least likely disturbed in these quarters. Although I must confess,” he added with another laugh, “I’m not so certain whether ‘twas really so that I should not be bothered, as much as that I should not bother anyone else!”
“However can you tolerate her ill treatment so well?” Adlai asked in amazement. She felt both surprised and confused over the seeming ease with which he so readily dismissed the rude handling he had received. The little man laughed.
“My dear child,” he replied, “By the time you come to be near my age, there are certain things that you find are much easier to let go of, rather than hold onto. And if there is one important lesson which I have come to learn in my life, it is they who are flexible are not easily broken. It is far easier to ride the current, than it is to fight it.
“And besides—” he continued in a slightly more sober tone of voice— “If Milady can so treat one who is both a stranger and a guest in this house, then one must surmise from her conduct that there are those under her who must fair far poorer still. Why then should I complain?”
He turned a knowing eye back to Adlai, and for a moment his elderly face softened with an understanding look of compassion. Adlai averted his gaze as she flushed and looked away. It was suddenly humiliating that Ardath’s disdain for her should be so obviously apparent. She cringed at the thought of all that the good Doctor may have already been made privy to…How much had he already heard, she wondered? She glanced up hesitantly to see a warm and tender smile cross his withered features, as he reached out to lay a wrinkled hand gently upon her shoulder.
“There, there, now,” he spoke gently, “This too shall pass, never fear. Seasons are oft quick to change…Take courage, and never lose hope.”
He turned back to continue climbing the stair, and Adlai somberly followed after.
“You know,” he continued over his shoulder, “The best way to keep from being made to feel beneath someone else is to adopt a posture of humility.”
Adlai rolled her eyes, her darkening countenance displaying brewing feelings of resentment at the turn the conversation had taken.
“Any more humbling, and I’ll be turned into a foot-stool for her to prop her feet upon,” she muttered.
“No, please, hear me out,” the Doctor answered. “Humility is not the rejection and annihilation of one’s self. It is, rather, the freedom to fully accept one’s self—both one’s virtues, and one’s flaws, to the degree that what others say is of little consequence. To be humble is not only to avoid being puffed up with arrogance. To be humble is to accept yourself as you are, so that you may in turn have the freedom to accept and love others as they are. It is acknowledging that you are like others… And in so doing, frees you to forgive them.”
Adlai glared in the dim light.
“She doesn’t deserve forgiveness,” she answered in a low undertone.
“Perhaps not. But you are allowing her bitterness to become your own. Don’t you want to be free from that?”
Adlai said nothing.
“The greatest way you can defeat her, is by not allowing her to own your spirit. Treat others with respect and kindness—not because you are forced or because they are deserving. Do so because your own sense of self-respect commands you to rise above their mistreatment of you—and even to show them greater consideration than they deserve.”
“Any more respect and consideration, and I’ll be her own personal slave!” Adlai grumbled.
Dr. Hindley shrugged.
“Adelheide, though I know little of what your life here has been like, yet I say again: some things are better let go of—otherwise they become harder burdens to bear the longer they are carried…You are young… Do not trouble yourself with carrying the needless weights of a troubled and begrudging old woman. If you do, then you also shall lose your bloom and vitality—and she will have succeeded in making you into a twisted, embittered, shriveled up form of herself. Don’t give her the satisfaction of becoming her mirror. Don’t allow sardonic morosity to cause you to shut out the life you were meant to live.”
“I shall never become what she is,” Adlai retorted bitingly as she climbed another step. “And besides, I’m nothing like her at all.”
“Perhaps not,” Doctor Hindley replied in a mild tone as he continued ascending the old stair. “But then,” he added, “Do you think that when Lady Ardath herself was a girl, that she ever envisioned herself as what she is now?”
“She is what she’s chosen to be,” Adlai answered in a surly voice.
“Precisely.”
Dr. Hindley turned and looked her full in the eye with a penetrating stare:
“She chose… And so must you… Character is something which we choose for ourselves one step at a time, one decision at a time, one moment and day at a time… Be careful how you choose… Because whether for good or bad, we never become who we are in a day. And if you do not fight to become the person you were meant to be, then you will fade into that which you were never meant to be.”
“I wonder that I never knew of this tower,” Adlai puffed behind him, hoping that conversation might slow his speed. “Indeed, I never even heard of such a door or stair being mentioned before, by anyone here.”
“Quite,” laughed the little man as he paused momentarily upon the stair. “Yes, it would seem that Milady thought I should be least likely disturbed in these quarters. Although I must confess,” he added with another laugh, “I’m not so certain whether ‘twas really so that I should not be bothered, as much as that I should not bother anyone else!”
“However can you tolerate her ill treatment so well?” Adlai asked in amazement. She felt both surprised and confused over the seeming ease with which he so readily dismissed the rude handling he had received. The little man laughed.
“My dear child,” he replied, “By the time you come to be near my age, there are certain things that you find are much easier to let go of, rather than hold onto. And if there is one important lesson which I have come to learn in my life, it is they who are flexible are not easily broken. It is far easier to ride the current, than it is to fight it.
“And besides—” he continued in a slightly more sober tone of voice— “If Milady can so treat one who is both a stranger and a guest in this house, then one must surmise from her conduct that there are those under her who must fair far poorer still. Why then should I complain?”
He turned a knowing eye back to Adlai, and for a moment his elderly face softened with an understanding look of compassion. Adlai averted his gaze as she flushed and looked away. It was suddenly humiliating that Ardath’s disdain for her should be so obviously apparent. She cringed at the thought of all that the good Doctor may have already been made privy to…How much had he already heard, she wondered? She glanced up hesitantly to see a warm and tender smile cross his withered features, as he reached out to lay a wrinkled hand gently upon her shoulder.
“There, there, now,” he spoke gently, “This too shall pass, never fear. Seasons are oft quick to change…Take courage, and never lose hope.”
He turned back to continue climbing the stair, and Adlai somberly followed after.
“You know,” he continued over his shoulder, “The best way to keep from being made to feel beneath someone else is to adopt a posture of humility.”
Adlai rolled her eyes, her darkening countenance displaying brewing feelings of resentment at the turn the conversation had taken.
“Any more humbling, and I’ll be turned into a foot-stool for her to prop her feet upon,” she muttered.
“No, please, hear me out,” the Doctor answered. “Humility is not the rejection and annihilation of one’s self. It is, rather, the freedom to fully accept one’s self—both one’s virtues, and one’s flaws, to the degree that what others say is of little consequence. To be humble is not only to avoid being puffed up with arrogance. To be humble is to accept yourself as you are, so that you may in turn have the freedom to accept and love others as they are. It is acknowledging that you are like others… And in so doing, frees you to forgive them.”
Adlai glared in the dim light.
“She doesn’t deserve forgiveness,” she answered in a low undertone.
“Perhaps not. But you are allowing her bitterness to become your own. Don’t you want to be free from that?”
Adlai said nothing.
“The greatest way you can defeat her, is by not allowing her to own your spirit. Treat others with respect and kindness—not because you are forced or because they are deserving. Do so because your own sense of self-respect commands you to rise above their mistreatment of you—and even to show them greater consideration than they deserve.”
“Any more respect and consideration, and I’ll be her own personal slave!” Adlai grumbled.
Dr. Hindley shrugged.
“Adelheide, though I know little of what your life here has been like, yet I say again: some things are better let go of—otherwise they become harder burdens to bear the longer they are carried…You are young… Do not trouble yourself with carrying the needless weights of a troubled and begrudging old woman. If you do, then you also shall lose your bloom and vitality—and she will have succeeded in making you into a twisted, embittered, shriveled up form of herself. Don’t give her the satisfaction of becoming her mirror. Don’t allow sardonic morosity to cause you to shut out the life you were meant to live.”
“I shall never become what she is,” Adlai retorted bitingly as she climbed another step. “And besides, I’m nothing like her at all.”
“Perhaps not,” Doctor Hindley replied in a mild tone as he continued ascending the old stair. “But then,” he added, “Do you think that when Lady Ardath herself was a girl, that she ever envisioned herself as what she is now?”
“She is what she’s chosen to be,” Adlai answered in a surly voice.
“Precisely.”
Dr. Hindley turned and looked her full in the eye with a penetrating stare:
“She chose… And so must you… Character is something which we choose for ourselves one step at a time, one decision at a time, one moment and day at a time… Be careful how you choose… Because whether for good or bad, we never become who we are in a day. And if you do not fight to become the person you were meant to be, then you will fade into that which you were never meant to be.”
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