A Widow's Tale, and Other StoriesOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
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A Widow's Tale, and Other Stories
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Fiction; Short stories
Roger and Lily left the cottage almost immediately on their
extraordinary journey. All that they had was the money which he had got
before he started, a considerable sum which happened to be in the house.
Elizabeth, on her side, gave Lily everything (it was not much) which was
in the cottage, and with a little bundle on her arm the girl went out
into the darkness with her new companion. Not even her husband! Lily was
dazed, and did not know what she was doing. She scarcely felt the hasty
embrace with which her mother put her from the door. In a curious
suppressed delirium of excitement and wonder she floated out into the
night without any independent action of hers--or at least this was how
she felt. Was it her life that she was beginning as she set out over the
turf and tremulous bog under that wistful clearness of the sky over
which heavy clouds were rolling? Everything was darkness before her
eyes, and fear in her heart. They were both young, they had done no
evil, they were strong and well and cared nothing for the long walk, and
the strange excitement of the moment was indescribable. They said
nothing to each other as they walked steadily over the hills, Dick going
with them to show them the way. They had nothing but their money, a
poor provision, and their youth, and some love for each other, which was
altogether in the background now. Had they been married in the natural
way, this passion, now but secondary on Roger's part, on hers vague as
could be, would have been the chief thing present to their thoughts. As
it was they thought nothing of it. Other subjects than this were
foremost in their minds. They said nothing to each other, did not even
take each other's hands, but with excitement so wild and strange that
everything else was dissolved in it, went away together, fugitives,
victims--yet also something more.
Dick put them on their way across the hill by a wild mountain path
difficult to find for any one who did not know as he did every nook and
crevice of the hills. Lily, too, had some knowledge of them, and of the
tricks of the atmosphere and elements in these lofty regions. Her
brother left them only when the early dawn was breaking over the
mountains, and they could see how they were going. There were few words
at the leave-taking. Lily let fall a few tears at the renewed farewell,
and they parted and went upon their several ways without looking back.
She was started now, pushed off dangerously, risking everything, into
the surf of the sea of life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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