She did give him his answer then and there, but first she turned her face
to the wall, or rather to the back of the sofa, and burst into a flood of
tears. It was a delicious moment to her, that in which she was weeping.
She sobbed forth something about her child, something about her sorrows,
something as to the wretchedness of her lot in life, something of her
widowed heart, something also of that duty to others which would compel
her to keep her income in her own hands; and then she yielded herself to
his entreaties.
* * * * *
That evening she thought it proper to tell Miss Macnulty what had
occurred. "He is a great preacher of the gospel," she said, "and I know no
position in the world more worthy of a woman's fondest admiration." Miss
Macnulty was unable to answer a word. She could not congratulate her
successful rival, even though her bread depended on it. She crept slowly
out of the room, and went up-stairs and wept.
Early in the month of June, Lady Eustace was led to the hymeneal altar by
her clerical bridegroom. The wedding took place at the Episcopal Church at
Ayr, far from the eyes of curious Londoners.
Pages:
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215