_“April 4th._ Met _him_ disguised as a common workman, and carrying
a sack full of things. I was so shocked I could not maintain my
resolution: I said, 'Oh, Mr. Edward, what are you doing?' He blushed a
little, but told me he was going to sell some candlesticks and things of
his making: and he should get a better price in that dress; all traders
looked on a _gentleman_ as a thing made to be pillaged. Then he told me
he was going to turn them into a bonnet and a wreath; and his beautiful
brown eyes sparkled with affection. What egotistical creatures _they_
must be! I was quite overcome, and said, Oh why did he refuse our offer?
Did he hate me so very much that he would not even take his due from my
hand? 'No,' he said, 'nobody in our house is so unjust to you as to hate
you; my sister honours you, and is very sorry you think ill of her: and,
as for me, I love you; you know how I love you.' I hid my face in my
hands; and sobbed out, 'Oh, you must not; you must not; my poor father
has one disobedient child already.' He said softly, 'Don't cry, dear
one; have a little patience; perhaps the clouds will clear: and,
meantime, why think so ill of us? Consider, we are four in number, of
different dispositious, yet all of one mind about Julia marrying Alfred.
May we not be right; may we not know something we love you too well to
tell you?' His words and his rich manly voice were so soothing; I gave
him just one hand while I still hid my burning face with the other; he
kissed the hand I yielded him, and left me abruptly.
“If Alfred should be right! I am staggered now; he puts it so much more
convincingly.”
_“April 5th._ A letter from Alfred, announcing his wedding by special
license for the 11th.
“Made no reply. What _could_ I say?
“Papa, on my reading it out left his very breakfast half finished, and
packed up his bag and rushed up to London. I caught a side view of his
face; and I am miserable. Such a new, such a terrible expression! a vile
expression! Heaven forgive me, it seemed the look of one who meditated a
_crime._”
CHAPTER XXIX
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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