England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Wessex (England) -- Fiction
‘But why should you belong to that profession?’ she burst out. ‘I have
got this large house; why can’t you marry me, and live here with us,
and not be a Methodist preacher any more? I assure you, Richard, it is
no harm, and I wish you could only see it as I do! We only carry it on
in winter: in summer it is never done at all. It stirs up one’s dull
life at this time o’ the year, and gives excitement, which I have got
so used to now that I should hardly know how to do ‘ithout it. At
nights, when the wind blows, instead of being dull and stupid, and not
noticing whether it do blow or not, your mind is afield, even if you
are not afield yourself; and you are wondering how the chaps are
getting on; and you walk up and down the room, and look out o’ window,
and then you go out yourself, and know your way about as well by night
as by day, and have hairbreadth escapes from old Latimer and his
fellows, who are too stupid ever to really frighten us, and only make
us a bit nimble.’
‘He frightened you a little last night, anyhow: and I would advise you
to drop it before it is worse.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I must go on as I have begun. I was born to
it. It is in my blood, and I can’t be cured. O, Richard, you cannot
think what a hard thing you have asked, and how sharp you try me when
you put me between this and my love for ‘ee!’
Stockdale was leaning with his elbow on the mantelpiece, his hands over
his eyes. ‘We ought never to have met, Lizzy,’ he said. ‘It was an ill
day for us! I little thought there was anything so hopeless and
impossible in our engagement as this. Well, it is too late now to
regret consequences in this way. I have had the happiness of seeing you
and knowing you at least.’
‘You dissent from Church, and I dissent from State,’ she said. ‘And I
don’t see why we are not well matched.’
He smiled sadly, while Lizzy remained looking down, her eyes beginning
to overflow.
That was an unhappy evening for both of them, and the days that
followed were unhappy days. Both she and he went mechanically about
their employments, and his depression was marked in the village by more
than one of his denomination with whom he came in contact. But Lizzy,
who passed her days indoors, was unsuspected of being the cause: for it
was generally understood that a quiet engagement to marry existed
between her and her cousin Owlett, and had existed for some time.
Thus uncertainly the week passed on; till one morning Stockdale said to
her: ‘I have had a letter, Lizzy. I must call you that till I am gone.’
‘Gone?’ said she blankly.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I am going from this place. I felt it would be better
for us both that I should not stay after what has happened. In fact, I
couldn’t stay here, and look on you from day to day, without becoming
weak and faltering in my course. I have just heard of an arrangement by
which the other minister can arrive here in about a week; and let me go
elsewhere.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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