There had something
come back into the air which made us feel that life was worth living,
after all!
Next morning the good people, who were much excited about our
affairs, sent the pony for him, and he came in full force with that
flattering Irish tongue of his, bent on persuading me that, old
lovers as we were, with no more to find out about one another, there
was nothing to wait for. 'How could he go back by himself (what a
brogue he put on! yet the tears were in his eyes) to his great
desolate castle, with not a living man in it at all at all, barring
the Banshee and a ghost or two; and as I had nothing to do, and
nowhere to go, why not be married then and there without more ado?
If I refused, he should think it was all my pride, and that I
couldn't take that "ornary object," as he had overheard himself
described that day. (As if I did not love him the better for that
marred complexion!) His mother? His uncle? They had long ago
repented of having come between us ten years ago, and were ready to
go down on their knees to any dacent young woman who would take him,
let alone a bit of an heiress, who, though not to compete with the
sixty-thousand pounder, could provide something better than praties
and buttermilk for herself at Killy Marey.'
I could not help thinking dear Harold might have remembered Killy
Marey's needs when he gave me that half of his means.
Pages:
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377