Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 65, No. 403, May, 1849Various
History
Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 65, No. 403, May, 1849
Various
England -- Periodicals; Scotland -- Periodicals
"'Tis well," he said. "I recommend my wife to your best care. Her
present state demands advice and precaution. She was born in a
distant land: for my sake she has quitted family and friends. I can
bring but my affection to her aid, for I am without experience. I
reckon upon you, sir. If possible, preserve her from all suffering."
As he spoke, the young man fixed upon his wife a look so full of love,
that the large blue eyes of the beautiful foreigner glistened with
tears of gratitude. She dropped the tiny cap she was embroidering, and
her two hands clasped the hand of her husband. I looked at them, and I
ought to have found their lot enviable, but, somehow or other, the
contrary was the case. I felt sad; I could not tell why. I had often
seen persons weep, of whom I said--They are happy! I saw William
Meredith and his wife smile, and I could not help thinking they had
much sorrow. I seated myself near my charming patient. Never have I
seen anything so lovely as that sweet face, shaded by long ringlets of
fair hair.
"What is your age, madam?"
"Seventeen."
"Is the climate of your native country very different from ours?"
"I was born in America--at New Orleans. Oh! the sun is far brighter
than here."
Doubtless she feared she had uttered a regret, for she added--
"But every country is beautiful when one is in one's husband's house,
with him, and awaiting his child!"
Her gaze sought that of William Meredith; then, in a tongue I did not
understand, she spoke a few words which sounded so soft that they must
have been words of love.
After a short visit I took my leave, promising to return. I did
return, and, at the end of two months, I was almost the friend of this
young couple. Mr and Mrs Meredith were not selfish in their happiness;
they found time to think of others. They saw that to the poor village
doctor, whose sole society was that of peasants, those days were
festivals upon which he passed an hour in hearing the language of
cities. They encouraged me to frequent them--talked to me of their
travels, and soon, with the prompt confidence characterising youth,
they told me their story. It was the girl-wife who spoke:--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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