The yellow book, an illustrated quarterly. Vol. 1, April 1894
General
The yellow book, an illustrated quarterly. Vol. 1, April 1894
English literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Great Britain -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
But some of these consequences already called loudly to him as he and
Esther reached the last gate on the road to Orton.
"You know I have only £130 a year?" he told her: "it's no very brilliant
prospect for you to marry me on that."
For he had actually offered her marriage, although such conduct to the
mediocre man must appear incredible or at least uncalled for. But to
Willoughby it seemed the only course possible. How else justify his
kisses, rescue her from her father's brutality, or bring back the smiles
to her face?
As for Esther, sudden exultation had leaped in her heart; then ere
fifty seconds were gone by, she was certain she would never have
consented to anything less.
"O! I'me used to managin'," she told him confidently, and mentally
resolved to buy herself, so soon as she was married, a black feather
boa, such as she had coveted last winter.
Willoughby spent the remaining days of his holiday in thinking out and
planning with Esther the details of his return to London and her own,
the secrecy to be observed, the necessary legal steps to be taken, and
the quiet suburb in which they would set up housekeeping. And, so
successfully did he carry out his arrangements, that within five weeks
from the day on which he had first met Esther Stables he and she came
out one morning from a church in Highbury husband and wife. It was a
mellow September day, the streets were filled with sunshine, and
Willoughby, in reckless high spirits, imagined he saw a reflection of
his own gaiety on the indifferent faces of the passers-by. There being
no one else to perform the office he congratulated himself very warmly,
and Esther's frequent laughter filled in the pauses of the day.
Three months later Willoughby was dining with a friend, and the
hour-hand of the clock nearing ten the host no longer resisted the
guest's growing anxiety to be gone. He arose and exchanged with him good
wishes and good-byes.
"Marriage is evidently a most successful institution," said he, half
jesting, half sincere; "you almost make me inclined to go and get
married myself. Confess now your thoughts have been at home the whole
evening?"
Willoughby thus addressed turned red to the roots of his hair, but did
not deny the soft impeachment.
The other laughed. "And very commendable they should be," he continued,
"since you are scarcely, so to speak, out of your honeymoon."
With a social smile on his lips Willoughby calculated a moment before
replying, "I have been married exactly three months and three days;"
then, after a few words respecting their next meeting, the two shook
hands and parted, the young host to finish the evening with books and
pipe, the young husband to set out on a twenty minutes' walk to his
home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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