Aunts -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Love stories; Stepmothers -- Fiction
"There's nothing else for a young maiden to think of in the spring
time," said Morris, in oracular tones.
"There is in my case," I replied. "We will buy some fresh violets
to-day, for one thing."
"Shall we get them, miss, when we are going into the Park, or when we
are coming out?"
"I want to sit just where I sat yesterday," I answered; "and while I am
there you can buy them, as you did yesterday."
"Oh, yes, miss; I quite understand," replied Morris. Then she added: "It
must be nice, very nice, to be married, and to be very rich. But it must
be lovely to be married when you care for the man with all your heart,
and he is poor, very poor. I'm not meaning anything special, miss, but
it's the spring time, and, as the poet says, it makes my fancy 'lightly
turn to thoughts of love.'"
I made no reply. I had planned my visit to the Park so that it should
take place almost precisely at eleven o'clock, and when I got to the
neighbourhood of the seats where Morris and I had rested yesterday, I
perceived that one of them was occupied by a tall young man in a morning
suit of dark grey tweed. The moment he saw me he started to his feet,
and I turned quickly to Morris.
"Go, Morris," I said, "and buy violets--three shillingsworth, please,
and get as many white violets as ever you can."
"And shall I meet you inside the gates, miss?" asked the discreet
Morris.
"Yes," I answered; "go at once."
She turned on her heel, tripping away through the long vista of trees
without once looking back. Captain Carbury came eagerly forward. He held
out his strong hand, and took one of mine; he held my hand very tightly.
I sat down--I felt my breath coming fast. I had thought of this hour
ever since I had last parted with him, and now that it had come I found
that I had not in my imagination, even for one moment, believed that it
was half as good as it proved to be.
"Won't you look at me, Heather?" he said, and he bent down and tried to
peep at my eyes from under my shady hat. I raised them just for a
minute.
"Is it right to meet you like this?" I said.
"You need never meet me like this again," he said. "You have only to say
'Yes' to my request, and you and I together will go straight back to
Hanbury Square, and I myself will ring the bell at Number 13, and we
will ask for an interview with your father, and afterwards I shall be
free to come to the house during the brief time we are engaged. For, oh,
darling! we must be married very, very soon."
"But I never promised to marry you," I answered.
"Oh, Heather!" was his reply. He bent forward and looked into my eyes.
"I never, never did," I said, shaking my head, and trying to avoid his
eyes.
"You certainly did not yesterday," was his answer then. "I don't know
that I even wanted you to, but when you came to me to-day I saw 'Yes'
written all over your face. You cannot deny it--you are mine, mine only;
you would give up every other man in the wide world just for me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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