'I heave a sigh of relief sometimes at the thought that I, at any
rate, found a husband before the present man-famine began. Don't
refuse him this time, there's a dear, or, mark my words, you'll have
cause to rue it--unless you have beforehand got engaged to somebody
better than he. You will not if you have not already, for the
exposure is sure to come soon.'
'O, this false position!--it is ruining your nature, my too thoughtful
mother! But I will not accept any of them--I'll brazen it out!' said
Ethelberta, throwing the letter wherever it chose to fly, and picking it
up to read again. She stood and thought it all over. 'I must decide to
do something!' was her sigh again; and, feeling an irresistible need of
motion, she put on her things and went out to see what resolve the
morning would bring.
No rain had fallen during the night, and the air was now quiet in a warm
heavy fog, through which old cider-smells, reminding her of Wessex,
occasionally came from narrow streets in the background. Ethelberta
passed up the Rue Grand-Pont into the little dusky Rue Saint-Romain,
behind the cathedral, being driven mechanically along by the fever and
fret of her thoughts. She was about to enter the building by the
transept door, when she saw Lord Mountclere coming towards her.
Ethelberta felt equal to him, or a dozen such, this morning. The looming
spectres raised by her mother's information, the wearing sense of being
over-weighted in the race, were driving her to a Hamlet-like fantasticism
and defiance of augury; moreover, she was abroad.
'I am about to ascend to the parapets of the cathedral,' said she, in
answer to a half inquiry.
'I should be delighted to accompany you,' he rejoined, in a manner as
capable of explanation by his knowledge of her secret as was Ethelberta's
manner by her sense of nearing the end of her maying. But whether this
frequent glide into her company was meant as ephemeral flirtation, to
fill the half-hours of his journey, or whether it meant a serious love-
suit--which were the only alternatives that had occurred to her on the
subject--did not trouble her now. 'I am bound to be civil to so great a
lord,' she lightly thought, and expressing no objection to his presence,
she passed with him through the outbuildings, containing Gothic lumber
from the shadowy pile above, and ascended the stone staircase. Emerging
from its windings, they duly came to the long wooden ladder suspended in
mid-air that led to the parapet of the tower. This being wide enough for
two abreast, she could hardly do otherwise than wait a moment for the
viscount, who up to this point had never faltered, and who amused her as
they went by scraps of his experience in various countries, which, to do
him justice, he told with vivacity and humour. Thus they reached the end
of the flight, and entered behind a balustrade.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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