Victorian Short Stories: Stories of Successful Marriages
General
Victorian Short Stories: Stories of Successful Marriages
Marriage -- Fiction; Short stories
In this way they arrived at Pen-zephyr without difficulty or mishap.
Bidding adieu to Jenkin and his man, who had sailed them over, they
strolled arm in arm off the pier, Baptista silent, cold, and obedient.
Heddegan had arranged to take her as far as Plymouth before their
return, but to go no further than where they had landed that day.
Their first business was to find an inn; and in this they had
unexpected difficulty, since for some reason or other--possibly the
fine weather--many of the nearest at hand were full of tourists and
commercial travellers. He led her on till he reached a tavern which,
though comparatively unpretending, stood in as attractive a spot as
any in the town; and this, somewhat to their surprise after their
previous experience, they found apparently empty. The considerate old
man, thinking that Baptista was educated to artistic notions, though
he himself was deficient in them, had decided that it was most
desirable to have, on such an occasion as the present, an apartment
with 'a good view' (the expression being one he had often heard in use
among tourists); and he therefore asked for a favourite room on
the first floor, from which a bow-window protruded, for the express
purpose of affording such an outlook.
The landlady, after some hesitation, said she was sorry that
particular apartment was engaged; the next one, however, or any other
in the house, was unoccupied.
'The gentleman who has the best one will give it up tomorrow, and then
you can change into it,' she added, as Mr Heddegan hesitated about
taking the adjoining and less commanding one.
'We shall be gone tomorrow, and shan't want it,' he said.
Wishing not to lose customers, the landlady earnestly continued that
since he was bent on having the best room, perhaps the other gentleman
would not object to move at once into the one they despised, since,
though nothing could be seen from the window, the room was equally
large.
'Well, if he doesn't care for a view,' said Mr Heddegan, with the air
of a highly artistic man who did.
'O no--I am sure he doesn't,' she said. 'I can promise that you shall
have the room you want. If you would not object to go for a walk for
half an hour, I could have it ready, and your things in it, and a nice
tea laid in the bow-window by the time you come back?'
This proposal was deemed satisfactory by the fussy old tradesman,
and they went out. Baptista nervously conducted him in an opposite
direction to her walk of the former day in other company, showing on
her wan face, had he observed it, how much she was beginning to regret
her sacrificial step for mending matters that morning.
She took advantage of a moment when her husband's back was turned to
inquire casually in a shop if anything had been heard of the gentleman
who was sucked down in the eddy while bathing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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