London (England) -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
Regina started: her eyes opened widely, and rested on Amelius with
an expression of incredulous wonder. “Married in a fortnight?” she
repeated. “What would my uncle and aunt say?”
“My angel, our happiness doesn’t depend on your uncle and aunt--our
happiness depends on ourselves. Nobody has any power to control us. I am
a man, and you are a woman; and we have a right to be married whenever
we like.” Amelius pronounced this last oracular sentence with his head
held high, and a pleasant inner persuasion of the convincing manner in
which he had stated his case.
“Without my uncle to give me away!” Regina exclaimed. “Without my aunt!
With no bridesmaids, and no friends, and no wedding-breakfast! Oh,
Amelius, what _can_ you be thinking of?” She drew back a step, and
looked at him in helpless consternation.
For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius lost all patience with her.
“If you really loved me,” he said bitterly, “you wouldn’t think of
the bridesmaids and the breakfast!” Regina had her answer ready in her
pocket--she took out her handkerchief. Before she could lift it to
her eyes, Amelius recovered himself. “No, no,” he said, “I didn’t mean
that--I am sure you love me--take my arm again. Do you know, Regina, I
doubt whether your uncle has told you everything that passed between us.
Are you really aware of the hard terms that he insists on? He expects
me to increase my five hundred a year to two thousand, before he will
sanction our marriage.”
“Yes, dear, he told me that.”
“I have as much chance of earning fifteen hundred a year, Regina, as I
have of being made King of England. Did he tell you _that?”_
“He doesn’t agree with you, dear--he thinks you might earn it (with your
abilities) in ten years.”
This time it was the turn of Amelius to look at Regina in helpless
consternation. “Ten years?” he repeated. “Do you coolly contemplate
waiting ten years before we are married? Good heavens! is it possible
that you are thinking of the money? that _you_ can’t live without
carriages and footmen, and ostentation and grandeur--?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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