Nobility -- Great Britain -- Fiction; Wessex (England) -- Fiction; Women -- England -- Fiction
He wrote to her from Le Havre, as soon as he reached that port, which was
not for seven days, on account of adverse winds; he wrote from Rouen, and
from Paris; described to her his sight of the King and Court at
Versailles, and the wonderful marble-work and mirrors in that palace;
wrote next from Lyons; then, after a comparatively long interval, from
Turin, narrating his fearful adventures in crossing Mont Cenis on mules,
and how he was overtaken with a terrific snowstorm, which had well-nigh
been the end of him, and his tutor, and his guides. Then he wrote
glowingly of Italy; and Barbara could see the development of her
husband's mind reflected in his letters month by month; and she much
admired the forethought of her father in suggesting this education for
Edmond. Yet she sighed sometimes--her husband being no longer in
evidence to fortify her in her choice of him--and timidly dreaded what
mortifications might be in store for her by reason of this _mesalliance_.
She went out very little; for on the one or two occasions on which she
had shown herself to former friends she noticed a distinct difference in
their manner, as though they should say, 'Ah, my happy swain's wife;
you're caught!'
Edmond's letters were as affectionate as ever; even more affectionate,
after a while, than hers were to him. Barbara observed this growing
coolness in herself; and like a good and honest lady was horrified and
grieved, since her only wish was to act faithfully and uprightly. It
troubled her so much that she prayed for a warmer heart, and at last
wrote to her husband to beg him, now that he was in the land of Art, to
send her his portrait, ever so small, that she might look at it all day
and every day, and never for a moment forget his features.
Willowes was nothing loth, and replied that he would do more than she
wished: he had made friends with a sculptor in Pisa, who was much
interested in him and his history; and he had commissioned this artist to
make a bust of himself in marble, which when finished he would send her.
What Barbara had wanted was something immediate; but she expressed no
objection to the delay; and in his next communication Edmund told her
that the sculptor, of his own choice, had decided to increase the bust to
a full-length statue, so anxious was he to get a specimen of his skill
introduced to the notice of the English aristocracy. It was progressing
well, and rapidly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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