Priscilla and Charybdis: A Story of AlternativesMoore, Frank Frankfort
General
Priscilla and Charybdis: A Story of Alternatives
Moore, Frank Frankfort
Fiction
“I am not speaking against her. She, I am sure, was convinced that she
was urging me to take a step for my own good; she had always bowed
down before the superior judgment of Aunt Emily. No matter about that;
I married the man caring nothing for him, but believing that he cared
something for me. It was proved at the church door that he never cared a
scrap for me. That is the marriage which you tell me was sacred!”
“Marriage is a sacred ordinance. You can’t get over that; and every
marriage celebrated in the church----”
“Sacred ordinance! You might as well talk of any Stock Exchange
transaction being sacred because it is made in what I believe they call
the House. Sacred! A sacred farce! I remember feeling when I was in the
church that day how dreadful was the mockery of the whole thing--how the
curate talked about the mystic union between Christ and the Church being
symbolized by marriage--dreadful!... Never mind, what you know as well
as I know is that that marriage of mine was not made by God, but by the
Power of Evil; it was the severance of that marriage that came from God,
and the coming of it so quickly makes me feel such gratitude to God as I
cannot express in words. That is all I have to say just now; only if you
fancy that I shall be hypocrite enough to pretend that I am mourning for
that man who did his best to wreck my life, you are mistaken. You know
that all rightminded people will say ‘What a happy release for the poor
girl!’ and they will be right. It is exactly what the poor girl herself
is saying, and what the father of the poor girl is saying in his heart,
however he may talk about the sacredness of marriage.”
He looked at her for some moments, and the frown upon his face became
more marked every moment. He seemed more than once about to make some
answer to her impetuous speech, but he made none. When she had said her
last word, he looked at her as though he meant to box her ears. Then he
turned suddenly round and walked straight out of the room.
So that, after all, it may be said that he had answered her accusations.
She felt a great pity for him; she knew that she had treated him badly;
but with the memory of the past year fresh upon her--the sense of having
escaped from a noisome prison by the grace of God--she could no longer
play the part which he was encouraging her to play.
She felt that, though a girl might marry a man whom she detested, solely
to please, her mother, it was too much to expect that she should become
a hypocrite solely to please her father.
She was aroused from a reverie by the unfamiliar sound of the throbbing
of the passionate heart of a motor up the steep lane leading to the
farm. The car appeared round the side of the house when she had got
upon her feet to find out who the visitor was that had dared that
tyre-rending track.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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