Clergy -- Fiction; English fiction; Lincolnshire (England) -- Fiction
As she spoke, the question seemed to be asked her--Was it for Eve's
good? and a cold, chilly feeling of misery came over her, as she felt
that she was destroying the young life of the girl who had been to her
almost more than a daughter.
"That's settled then, is it, mother?" said Richard, lightly.
"Yes, my boy, indeed yes," said Mrs Glaire, throwing off her momentary
feeling of depression, and telling herself that it was for the best, and
that so good a wife should be the saving of her son. Besides, it was
for this that she had been working, and now that there was to be the
fruition of her hopes, she felt that she must not hang back.
Richard was already out on the lawn, going up to where the vicar and Eve
were talking about flowers, and it galled the young man to see the
bright happy look pass away as he approached, and not come back.
The vicar spoke pleasantly to Richard, but the replies were
monosyllables, and an awkward pause was ended by the coming of Mrs
Glaire, who soon after returned into the house with their visitor, while
Richard led his cousin down to the bottom of the garden, and, to her
surprise, asked her to sit down.
"Look here, Eve," he said, shortly, "I've been talking to the old lady
about our being married."
"Our being married, Richard?" said Eve, turning pale and starting.
"Yes, our being married," he said, sharply. "What are you starting for,
you little goose? Any one would think it was something new."
"It came upon me like a surprise," said Eve, catching her breath, and
speaking quickly. "I did not expect it."
"Gammon!" said the young man, coarsely. "Why, you've been expecting it
for months."
"Indeed no, Richard," she said, eagerly.
"Then you ought to have been," he continued. "You know the old girl
wishes it."
"Yes, Richard," she faltered, with her forehead becoming rugged, and her
lower lip quivering, "I know that."
"Well, we've talked it over, and she thinks like I do, that if we're
married it will settle all this rubbish about Daisy Banks."
"Oh, Richard! Richard!" she cried, pitifully; and she rose to run away,
but he caught her wrist, and forced her back into the seat.
"Don't be a little stupid," he said. "Why, that was only a silly
flirtation, and I don't care a _sou_ for the girl."
"Let me go in, Richard, please," she sobbed.
"Not till I've done," he said, with a half laugh. "Look here, Eve,
dear; you are not such a little silly as to think that I know where
Daisy is, or that I took her away?"
"Tell me, on your word of honour, Richard, that you don't know where she
is," said Eve, simply, "and I shall believe you."
"'Pon my word of honour, I don't know where she is; and I didn't take
her away; and I didn't send her away; and I don't care a fig where she
is, and if I never see her again."
"Richard!"
"There now, are you satisfied?" he cried.
"I believe you, Richard," she said, ceasing to resist, but sitting back
in the garden seat, and looking dreamily away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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