The Romantic Adventures of a MilkmaidHardy, Thomas
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The Romantic Adventures of a Milkmaid
Hardy, Thomas
Women agricultural laborers -- Fiction
VON XANTEN.
CHAPTER XI.
Margery’s face flushed up, and her neck and arms glowed in sympathy. The
quickness of youthful imagination, and the assumptiveness of woman’s
reason, sent her straight as an arrow this thought: ‘He wants to marry
me!’
She had heard of similar strange proceedings, in which the orange-flower
and the sad cypress were intertwined. People sometimes wished on their
death-beds, from motives of esteem, to form a legal tie which they had
not cared to establish as a domestic one during their active life.
For a few minutes Margery could hardly be called excited; she was
excitement itself. Between surprise and modesty she blushed and trembled
by turns. She became grave, sat down in the solitary room, and looked
into the fire. At seven o’clock she rose resolved, and went quite
tranquilly upstairs, where she speedily began to dress.
In making this hasty toilet nine-tenths of her care were given to her
hands. The summer had left them slightly brown, and she held them up and
looked at them with some misgiving, the fourth finger of her left hand
more especially. Hot washings and cold washings, certain products from
bee and flower known only to country girls, everything she could think
of, were used upon those little sunburnt hands, till she persuaded
herself that they were really as white as could be wished by a husband
with a hundred titles. Her dressing completed, she left word with Edy
that she was going for a long walk, and set out in the direction of Mount
Lodge.
She no longer tripped like a girl, but walked like a woman. While
crossing the park she murmured ‘Baroness von Xanten’ in a pronunciation
of her own. The sound of that title caused her such agitation that she
was obliged to pause, with her hand upon her heart.
The house was so closely neighboured by shrubberies on three of its sides
that it was not till she had gone nearly round it that she found the
little door. The resolution she had been an hour in forming failed her
when she stood at the portal. While pausing for courage to tap, a
carriage drove up to the front entrance a little way off, and peeping
round the corner she saw alight a clergyman, and a gentleman in whom
Margery fancied that she recognized a well-known solicitor from the
neighbouring town. She had no longer any doubt of the nature of the
ceremony proposed. ‘It is sudden but I must obey him!’ she murmured: and
tapped four times.
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