“My bride! thou art wholly mine, beloved one,” said I; “no evil that I
can avert shall ever come near thee. How is it that the few words which
we have just uttered have given thee so wholly to my protection? but
thou hast trusted to my strong arm and to my still stronger principles
and feelings, and may I perish if I ever deceive thee.”
We spent three weeks in a retired spot among the Highlands, each day
restoring tranquillity to my dear wife, and showing how infinitely
happier I was than my ardent fancy had ever contemplated. We talked over
our future prospects, and she drew a scheme and decked it out in such
beautiful colours—all, too, within the compass of my abilities—that I no
longer feared she would repine at the contrast of the humble home I
could offer, and that to which she had been accustomed. We had a letter
from our good friend, Martha, giving us an account of the consternation
they were in at Mr. Bewcastle’s when they read the letter which I sent
to them on the day of our marriage. They sent for her brother and
questioned him angrily, threatening to prosecute him for allowing the
ceremony to take place in his house; but he was not to be intimidated,
as he told Mr. Bewcastle, for he knew that the young lady was of age.
Martha proceeded to say, that as it was now exceedingly unpleasant for
them to remain in their neighbourhood, they had determined to sell their
little effects and go to the west. Her brother was to set out as soon as
this was settled, and she was to remain at lodgings until he had
selected a suitable place, his object being to purchase a small farm.
Nothing could have happened to suit our views better, for in all my dear
wife’s little plans there would arise a little distrust of herself when
it came to the marketing for our little household, and now, at the very
moment, came dear aunt Martha to our aid. We wrote immediately, begging
her to remain with us as a friend as long as it suited her
convenience—nay, to live with us always, if her good brother could do
without her. I told her to join us in New York as soon as their effects
were sold, and my dear wife added a postscript longer than my whole
letter, telling her of our happiness, and of the little plans of our
future establishment. She told her to reserve such articles as might be
useful to us, such as a bed and bedding, all of which we would pay for
as soon as she came to us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account