The Days of My Life: An AutobiographyOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
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The Days of My Life: An Autobiography
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret), 1828-1897
The shadows of great trees were over us; but I had leaned back in my
corner, and did not note them. Yes! I remembered that the public road
crossed the very end of that stately grand old avenue--how slowly we
were passing it! how long the overarching branches shadowed the
carriage! and the air grew closer, as if something interrupted it very
near. I did not look up, a strange fascination overpowered me--a moment
more, and the carriage wheeled round into an open space and stopt.
Almost before they drew up, Harry leaped from my side. Then he came
round, threw the door open, held out his arm to me to lift me out--how
his arms trembled--how hot his breath came upon my cheek--I could
scarcely recognise his hurried, trembling, agitated voice,
"Hester--welcome home."
Home! the great hall door stood open--the moon came out from behind a
cloud to throw a momentary gleam upon the house. Home! I thrust him
away, and sprang to the ground without his aid. He stood where I had
left him, drawing back, following me with his eyes, and pale as marble.
I stood alone, gazing up at the sculptured emblems upon the door. In a
moment, in a flood of despair and bitterness, the truth rushed upon
me--I had been trapped and betrayed--deceived like a fool--and every one
had known the man but I--I saw it all at a glance--I was his wife! his
wife! and he had brought me home.
In that wild moment, I cannot tell the impulses of frenzy which
possessed me. To escape--to rush away from him, over the pathless,
featureless country--through the darkness and the night--to be lost
somewhere for ever and for ever, never to come to his knowledge more--to
die upon this threshold and never enter it. It was vain! I was roused to
a sense of my true circumstances when I saw a band of servants
curtseying and gaping at me in the hall. My pride came to my aid, my
very passion supported me. I went in with a firm deliberate step, bowing
to them, and passed to the room which had been our dining-parlor, and
from which there was a glimmer of light. I had not looked towards him,
but I heard his step following me. I entered the room, it was very
bright and cheerful, well-lighted with a ruddy fire, and tea upon the
table. The glow of warmth and comfort in it struck me with an indignant
sense of my own sudden misery. He had put me without the pale of
enjoyment, I thought, for ever.
I did not take off my bonnet--I stood in the glow of the firelight,
turning my face to him as he came eagerly up to me. I stopped him as he
began to speak. "There is no need--no need!" said I, "I see your
mystery--pray do not speak to me--do not drive me mad to-night."
He turned away from me, clasping his hands with a passionate
exclamation--then he came back: "I deserve your reproaches, Hester, do
not spare them! but think what you said to me not half an hour ago--you
are my wife."
"Your wife--your wife--yes! there is the sting," I said with a wild
outburst, "his wife, and it is for ever!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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