The Soldier's Wife — page 62: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE SOLDIERS WIFE 49° very ‘nhappy; and there were times when she|appearing as if he could scarce’y conquer his even seriously thought of abandoning her home. |surprise, “it 1s impossible!” But this is the last step which a virtuous and} ‘“ How is it impossible?” well-principled young woman ever adopts;| “ Your father would never conseut.” and Lucy felt that it could only be taken as an} “J don’t want hisconsent. I know he would extreme resource, should her position become|not: but what is that to me! I must take care truly desperate. of my own happiness. In two weeks I shall be Mr. Davis now began to teel somewhat an-jof age—and then who can prevent me marry- noyed and apprehensive because Gerald didjing as I like?” not bring matters te a crisis. A whole month| ‘“ Much, my dear sir, as I feel flattered and had elapsed since thefirst visit paid; and/honored by this compliment,” said the bailiff, regularly every evening had the visit been|assuming a remonstrative tone, “it is impossible renewed. That the youth was deeply, passion-|that situated as I am in respect to your hon- ately in love, was evident enough: but what|ored father ‘ restrained him from speaking out? Was it} “ We will talk of all that presently,” inter- indeed that he was effectually struggling against|rupted Gerald. ‘“ At present let me be assured this passion, and that his pride still rose supe-|that Lucy will accept me? I can promise you rior to his love? The keen-sighted Davis had|that I am taking no rash step. A week—even but little difficulty in discovering that suchja fortnight back, I should have opened my was the case; and as the time was now draw-|/mind to you; but I resolved to reflect. I have ing near when Gerald would come of age and|reflected and therefore I now speak.” also be gazetted, he resolved to bring matters; “ You have taken meso completely unawares to a crisis. —so suddenly—so abruptly,” observed the Accordingly, one evening—at the expiration|cunning Davis, “that I really know not how of the month of incessant visits—Davis of his}to answer you. If your parents gave their own accord gave Lucy some hint to leave the/consent, Mr. satin would be the happiest room,—a hint which she was by no means slow|and proudest moment of my life to see my In obeying. daughter accompany you to the altar: and I “Well, Mr. Redburn,” he said, after a few;/may say this much—that Lucy would prove remarks on indifferent subjects, and when they}obedient to her father’s wish. But, my dear were alone together, “I have made up my mind|sir, we cannot shut our eyes to the fact that to take Lucy to the sea-side at once.” Sir Archibald and Lady Redburn would never “Ah! you have made up your mind ?” ejacu-|give such consent.” lated the youth, with a start and a look of| “Have I not already told you,” exclaimed 5 ei : Gerald, petulantly, “that I do not want it? “Yes. I purpose to wait upon Sir Archi-|To acertain extent I am independent of my bald to-morrow morning, and beg a three|father. He is purchasing my commission for months’ noliday. Indeed, I have already hint-|me—I shall have my fit-out—and he has prom- ed to him that I should like it; and he gave me|ised to lodge five hundred pounds at a banker’s to understand that I need only ask in order to|to my account the moment IJ join my regiment. have.” That will carry us on fora time, and you know © “Well, I was in hopes that you would not|very well that, as the estates are all entailed be in such a hurry,” said Gerald: and then hejand can’t be left away from me, I can raise fidgeted about on his chair. “The truth is,{money by post-obits, or whatever they are Davis——” called. As for you, Davis, I believe you have But he stopped short; and a violent struggle|saved money, and therefore are independent of took place within him. Though generally of ajmy father,—supposing that he does ride rust reckless disposition, and inconsiderate in his|with you on this account. But if I elope with conduct, yet the influence of the passion he|Lucy—what then? He couldn’t blame you, experienced for Lucy had somewhat sobered|and need never know that you were aware of him down and rendered him reflective. He|what was going on.” therefore saw that things had reached anim-| ‘No, Mr. Redburn,” replied Davis: “if this — crisis; and that if he once committed jalliance should take place I say, 2f it should imself to a pledge and engagement, he could it would be my duty to accompany my not afterwards retract. What should he do{|daughter to the altar and in person bestow her He thought of his family—and he thought of |upon you. I would sooner sacrifice my situa, Lucy: he thought of his pride—and he thought |tion in your father’s service, than afford seope of love: but Lucy’s image triumphed over family |for the tongues of scandal by secretly coun considerations, and love vanquished pride. selling an elopement.” “The fact is, Davis,” he said, after a brief | “ Well, just as you like—I only threw out pause, “you need not go to the sea-side at all|the hint. But pray give me a decisive answer to find a suitable husband for your charming |this evening. Now that the ice is once broken, daughter.” I cannot remain in uncertainty and suspense.” The bailiff affected to stare at Gerald in| “And suppose that I yield to your urgent speechless amazement. entreaties,” resumed the bailiff, “what course * What I say is true enough,” continued the|do you propose !” young gentleman. “In a word, then, I love; “Just to wait till I have got my commission your daughter—and I will marry her. It’s|and the money is paid into the bank in m serious—-there’s no joking in such things——” |jname: then I can easily procure a fortnight's “But, my dear Mr. Redburn,” said Davis, still!leave o* absence ere joining the regiment,— o CORNICE OOOKS.€©)