Love stories; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
“Not even thin, me Lord darlin’” she said with a cheery smile. “An’
I’m thinkin’ it’s thankin’ me--you an’ yer lovely wife too--’ll be
before ye’re well out of sight of this place. Faix it’s a nice sort iv
ould gooseberry I’d be, sittin’ in the carriage wid me arrums foulded,
wid me darlin’ Lord sittin’ in front dhrivin’ like a show-flure in a
shute iv leather. An’ his bride beside him, wid her arrums round him
bekase both his own is busy wid the little wheel; an’ her wondhrin’,
wid tears in her beautiful grey eyes, why he doesn’t kiss her what
she’s pinin’ fur. Augh! no! Not me, this time! I was a bride
meself--wanst. An’ I know betther nor me young Lady does now, what is
what on the weddin’ day afther the words is said. Though she’ll pick
up, so she will. She’s not the soort that’ll be long larnin’! Musha
…” Her further revelations and prophesyings were cut short by
Athlyne’s kissing her and saying “Good-bye!”
If the journey up North had been Fairyland, the journey southward was
Heaven for both the young people. Athlyne felt all the triumph of a
conqueror. If he had sung out loud, as he would like to have done, his
song would have been a war-song rather than a love-song. There was the
_elan_ of the conqueror about him; the stress of love-longing and
love-pining were behind him. The battle was won, and his conqueror’s
booty was beside him, well content to be in his train. Still even
conqueror’s love has its duties as well as its right, and he was more
tender than ever to Joy. She, sitting beside him in all the radiancy
of her new found wifehood, felt that their hearts were beating
together; and that their thoughts swayed in unison. When her eyes
would be lifted from the lean, strong, brown hands gripping the
steering wheel--for in the rush of departure he had other things to
think of than putting on the gloves which were squeezed behind him in
his seat--and would look up into his face she would feel a sort of
electric shock as his eyes, leaving for a moment their steering duty,
would flash into hers with a look of love which made her quiver. But
presently when his yielding to affection had been tested, and even her
curiosity had been satisfied, she ceased such sudden looks. She
realized his idea of the gravity of the situation when she saw, as his
eyes returned to their necessary task, the hard look become fixed on
his eagle face--the look which to one engaged in his task means safety
to those under his care. She was all sympathy with him now. She was
content that his will should prevail; that his duty should be the duty
of both; that her service was to help him. And the first moment she
realized this, she sighed happily as she sank back in her seat, her
lover-rapture merged in wife-content. She had compensation for the
foregoing in the exercise of her own pride. From her present
standpoint all that came within the scope of her senses was supremely
beautiful. The mountains grey and mysterious in their higher and
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