"
"Oh, mother hardly feels well enough to go today," said she; "she
is lying down."
"Then we can pick up the boys on the road," said I, for which
remark, my enchantress, already descending the steps, gave me a
look which the ladies behind her would have given their best
switches to have seen.
We drove off as decorously as if it were Sunday and we were
driving to church; we industriously pointed out to each other
every handsome garden and tasteful residence we passed; we met
other people driving, and conversed fluently upon their horses,
carriages and dress. But when we reached the edge of the town, and
I turned into "Happy Valley," a road following the depressions and
curves of a long, well-wooded valley, in which there was not a
single straight line, I turned and looked into my darling's face.
Her eyes met mine, and, although they were full of a happiness
which I had never seen in them before, they filled with tears, and
their dear owner dropped her head on my shoulder. What we said on
that long drive would not interest the reader. I have learned by
experience to skip all love talks in novels; no matter how
delightful the lovers may be. Recalling now our conversation, it
does not seem to me to have had anything wonderful it in. I will
only say that if I had been happy on the evening before, my
happiness now seemed to be sanctified; to be favored with the love
and confidence of a simple girl scarcely past her childhood is to
receive a greater honor than court or field can bestow; but even
this honor is far surpassed by that which comes to a man when a
woman of rare intelligence, tact and knowledge of society and the
world, unburdens her heart of all its hopes and fears, and
unhesitatingly leaves her destiny to be shaped by his love.
Pages:
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109