The walk back to the house was not of itself very
exciting, though to Clara it was a short period of
unalloyed bliss. No doubt had then come upon
her to cloud her happiness, and she was ’wrapped
up in measureless content.’ It was well
that they should both be silent at such a moment.
Only yesterday had been buried their dear old friend
the friend who had brought them together, and been
so anxious for their future happiness! And Clara
Amedroz was not a young girl, prone to jump out of
her shoes with elation because she had got a lover.
She could be steadily happy without many immediate
words about her happiness. When they reached the
house, and were once more together in the drawing-room,
she again gave him her hand, and was the first to
speak. And you; are you contented?’ she
asked. Who does not know the smile of triumph
with which a girl asks such a question at such a moment
as that?
‘Contented? well yes; I think I am,’ he
said.
But even those words did not move her to doubt.
‘If you are,’ she said,’ I am.
And now I will leave you till dinner, that you may
think over what you have done.’
‘I had thought about it before, you know,’
he replied. Then he stooped over her and kissed
her. It was the first time he had done so; but
his kiss was as cold and proper as though they had
been man and wife for years! But it sufficed
for her, and she went to her room as happy as a queen.
MISS AMEDROZ IS TOO CANDID BY HALE
Clara, when she left her accepted lover in the drawing-room
and went up to her own chamber, had two hours for
consideration before she would see him again and she
had two hours for enjoyment. She was very happy.
She thoroughly believed in the man who was to be her
husband, feeling confident that he possessed those
qualities which she thought to be most necessary for
her married happiness. She had quizzed him at
times, pretending to make it matter of accusation
against him that his life was not in truth all that
his aunt believed it to be but had it been more what
Mrs Winterfield would have wished, it would have been
less to Clara’s taste. She liked his position
in the world; she liked the feeling that he was a
man of influence; perhaps she liked to think that
to some extent he was a man of fashion. He was
not handsome, but he looked always like a gentleman.
He was well educated, given to reading, prudent, steady
in his habits, a man likely to rise in the world; and
she loved him. I fear the reader by this time
may have begun to think that her love should never
have been given to such a man. To this accusation
I will make no plea at present, but I will ask the
complainant whether such men are not always loved.
Much is said of the rashness of women in giving away
their hearts wildly; but the charge when made generally
is, I think, an unjust one. I am more often astonished
by the prudence of girls than by their recklessness.
