City and town life -- Fiction; Pottery industry -- Fiction; Staffordshire (England) -- Fiction; Stoke-on-Trent (England) -- Fiction
'I'm glad of this opportunity--very glad,' he proceeded. 'I've been
wanting to ... You must know, my dear girl, how I feel....'
She gave a gesture, charming in its sweet humility, as if to say: 'Who
am I that I should dare----'
And then he proposed to her, asked her to share his life, and all that
sort of thing; and when he had finished he thought, 'It's done now,
anyway.'
Strange to relate, she offered no immediate reply, but she bent a little
towards him with shining, happy eyes. He had an impulse to seize her in
his arms and kiss her, but prudence suggested that he should defer the
rite. She turned and began to walk slowly and meditatively towards the
pit-shaft. He followed almost at her side, but a foot or so behind,
waiting for her to speak. And as he waited, expectant, he looked at her
profile and reflected how well the name May suited her, with its
significances of shyness and dreamy hope, and hidden fire and the
modesty of spring.
And while he was thus savouring her face, and they were still ten yards
from the pit-shaft, she suddenly disappeared from his vision, as it were
by a conjuring trick. He had a horrible sensation in his spinal column.
He was not the man to mistrust the evidence of his senses, and he knew,
therefore, that he had been proposing to a phantom.
V
The next morning--early, because of Jim's early breakfast--when May
Deane's disappearance became known to the members of the household, Jim
had the idea of utilizing Carlo in the search for her. The retriever
went straight, without a fault, to the pit-shaft, and May was discovered
alive and unscathed, save for a contusion of the face and a sprain in
the wrist.
Her suicidal plunge had been arrested, at only a few feet from the top
of the shaft, by a cross-stay of timber, upon which she lay prone. There
was no reason why the affair should be made public, and it was not. It
was suppressed into one of those secrets which embed themselves in the
history of families, and after two or three generations blossom into
romantic legends full of appropriate circumstantial detail.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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