Victorian Short Stories: Stories of Courtship
there had a stalwart son, who was now the owner of the Helpholme
pastures. But though owner in fee of all those wild acres and of the
cattle which they supported, he was not much above the farmers around
him, either in manners or education. He had his merits, however; for he
was honest, well to do in the world, and modest withal. How strong love
had grown up, springing from neighbourly kindness, between our Patience
and his mother, it needs not here to tell; but rising from it had come
another love--or an ambition which might have grown to love. The young
man, after much thought, had not dared to speak to Miss Woolsworthy, but
he had sent a message by Miss Le Smyrger. If there could be any hope for
him, he would present himself as a suitor--on trial. He did not owe a
shilling in the world, and had money by him--saved. He wouldn't ask the
parson for a shilling of fortune. Such had been the tenor of his
message, and Miss Le Smyrger had delivered it faithfully. 'He does not
mean it,' Patience had said with her stern voice. 'Indeed he does, my
dear. You may be sure he is in earnest,' Miss Le Smyrger had replied;
'and there is not an honester man in these parts.'
'Tell him,' said Patience, not attending to the latter portion of her
friend's last speech, 'that it cannot be,--make him understand, you
know--and tell him also that the matter shall be thought of no more.'
The matter had, at any rate, been spoken of no more, but the young
farmer still remained a bachelor, and Helpholme still wanted a
mistress. But all this came back upon the parson's mind when his
daughter told him that she was about to leave him.
'Yes, dearest,' she said; and as she spoke, she now knelt at his knees.
'I have been asked in marriage, and I have given myself away.'
'Well, my love, if you will be happy--'
'I hope I shall; I think I shall. But you, papa?'
'You will not be far from us.'
'Oh, yes; in London.'
'In London.'
'Captain Broughton lives in London generally.'
'And has Captain Broughton asked you to marry him?'
'Yes, papa--who else? Is he not good? Will you not love him? Oh, papa,
do not say that I am wrong to love him?'
He never told her his mistake, or explained to her that he had not
thought it possible that the high-placed son of the London great man
shall have fallen in love with his undowered daughter; but he embraced
her, and told her, with all his enthusiasm, that he rejoiced in her joy,
and would be happy in her happiness. 'My own Patty,' he said, 'I have
ever known that you were too good for this life of ours here.' And then
the evening wore away into the night, with many tears but still with
much happiness.
Captain Broughton, as he walked back to Oxney Colne, made up his mind
that he would say nothing on the matter to his aunt till the next
morning. He wanted to think over it all, and to think it over, if
possible, by himself. He had taken a step in life, the most important
that a man is ever called on to take, and he had to reflect whether or
no he had taken it with wisdom.
'Have you seen her?' said Miss Le Smyrger, very anxiously, when he came
into the drawing-room.
'Miss Woolsworthy you mean,' said he. 'Yes, I've seen her. As I found
her out I took a long walk and happened to meet her. Do you know, aunt,
I think I'll go to bed; I was up at five this morning, and have been on
the move ever since.'
Miss Le Smyrger perceived that she was to hear nothing that evening, so
she handed him his candlestick and allowed him to go to his room.
But Captain Broughton did not immediately retire to bed, nor when he
did so was he able to sleep at once. Had this step that he had taken
been a wise one? He was not a man who, in worldly matters, had allowed
things to arrange themselves for him, as is the case with so many men.
He had formed views for himself, and had a theory of life. Money for
money's sake he had declared to himself to be bad. Money, as a
concomitant to things which were in themselves good, he had declared to
himself to be good also. That concomitant in this affair of his
marriage, he had now missed. Well; he had made up his mind to that, and
would put up with the loss. He had means of living of his own, though
means not so extensive as might have been desirable. That it would be
well for him to become a married man, looking merely to that state of
life as opposed to his present state, he had fully resolved. On that
point, therefore, there was nothing to repent. That Patty Woolsworthy
was good, affectionate, clever, and beautiful, he was sufficiently
satisfied. It would be odd indeed if he were not so satisfied now,
seeing that for the last four months he had declared to himself daily
that she was so with many inward asseverations. And yet though he
repeated now again that he was satisfied, I do not think that he was so
fully satisfied of it as he had been throughout the whole of those four
months. It is sad to say so, but I fear--I fear that such was the case.
When you have your plaything how much of the anticipated pleasure
vanishes, especially if it have been won easily!
He had told none of his family what were his intentions in this second
visit to Devonshire, and now he had to bethink himself whether they
would be satisfied. What would his sister say, she who had married the
Honourable Augustus Gumbleton, gold-stick-in-waiting to Her Majesty's
Privy Council? Would she receive Patience with open arms, and make much
of her about London? And then how far would London suit Patience, or
would Patience suit London? There would be much for him to do in
teaching her, and it would be well for him to set about the lesson
without loss of time. So far he got that night, but when the morning
came he went a step further, and began mentally to criticize her manner
to himself. It had been very sweet, that warm, that full, that ready
declaration of love. Yes; it had been very sweet; but--but--; when,
after her little jokes, she did confess her love, had she not been a
little too free for feminine excellence? A man likes to be told that he
is loved, but he hardly wishes that the girl he is to marry should fling
herself at his head!
Ah me! yes; it was thus he argued to himself as on that morning he went
through the arrangements of his toilet. 'Then he was a brute,' you say,
my pretty reader. I have never said that he was not a brute. But this I
remark, that many such brutes are to be met with in the beaten paths of
the world's high highway. When Patience Woolsworthy had answered him
coldly, bidding him go back to London and think over his love; while it
seemed from her manner that at any rate as yet she did not care for him;
while he was absent from her, and, therefore, longing for her, the
possession of her charms, her talent, and bright honesty of purpose had
seemed to him a thing most desirable. Now they were his own. They had,
in fact, been his own from the first. The heart of this country-bred
girl had fallen at the first word from his mouth. Had she not so
confessed to him? She was very nice,--very nice indeed. He loved her
dearly. But had he not sold himself too cheaply?
I by no means say that he was not a brute. But whether brute or no he
was an honest man, and had no remotest dream, either then, on that
morning, or during the following days on which such thoughts pressed
more thickly on his mind--of breaking away from his pledged word. At
breakfast on that morning he told all to Miss Le Smyrger, and that lady,
with warm and gracious intentions, confided to him her purpose regarding
her property. 'I have always regarded Patience as my heir,' she said,
'and shall do so still.'
'Oh, indeed,' said Captain Broughton.
'But it is a great, great pleasure to me to think that she will give
back the little property to my sister's child. You will have your
mother's, and thus it will all come together again.'
'Ah!' said Captain Broughton. He had his own ideas about property, and
did not, even under existing circumstances, like to hear that his aunt
considered herself at liberty to leave the acres away to one who was by
blood quite a stranger to the family.
'Does Patience know of this?' he asked.
'Not a word,' said Miss Le Smyrger. And then nothing more was said upon
the subject.
On that afternoon he went down and received the parson's benediction and
congratulations with a good grace. Patience said very little on the
occasion, and indeed was absent during the greater part of the
interview. The two lovers then walked up to Oxney Colne, and there were
more benedictions and more congratulations. 'All went merry as a
marriage bell', at any rate as far as Patience was concerned. Not a word
had yet fallen from that dear mouth, not a look had yet come over that
handsome face, which tended in any way to mar her bliss. Her first day
of acknowledged love was a day altogether happy, and when she prayed for
him as she knelt beside her bed there was no feeling in her mind that
any fear need disturb her joy.
I will pass over the next three or four days very quickly, merely saying
that Patience did not find them so pleasant as that first day after her
engagement. There was something in her lover's manner--something which
at first she could not define--which by degrees seemed to grate against
her feelings. He was sufficiently affectionate, that being a matter on
which she did not require much demonstration; but joined to his
affection there seemed to be--; she hardly liked to suggest to herself a
harsh word, but could it be possible that he was beginning to think that
she was not good enough for him? And then she asked herself the
question--was she good enough for him? If there were doubt about that,
the match should be broken off, though she tore her own heart out in the
struggle. The truth, however, was this,--that he had begun that teaching
which he had already found to be so necessary. Now, had any one essayed
to teach Patience German or mathematics, with that young lady's free
consent, I believe that she would have been found a meek scholar. But it
was not probable that she would be meek when she found a self-appointed
tutor teaching her manners and conduct without her consent.
So matters went on for four or five days, and on the evening of the
fifth day, Captain Broughton and his aunt drank tea at the parsonage.
Nothing very especial occurred; but as the parson and Miss Le Smyrger
insisted on playing backgammon with devoted perseverance during the
whole evening, Broughton had a good opportunity of saying a word or two
about those changes in his lady-love which a life in London would
require--and some word he said also--some single slight word, as to the
higher station in life to which he would exalt his bride. Patience bore
it--for her father and Miss Le Smyrger were in the room--she bore it
well, speaking no syllable of anger, and enduring, for the moment, the
implied scorn of the old parsonage. Then the evening broke up, and
Captain Broughton walked back to Oxney Colne with his aunt. 'Patty,' her
father said to her before they went to bed, 'he seems to me to be a most
excellent young man.' 'Dear papa,' she answered, kissing him. 'And
terribly deep in love,' said Mr. Woolsworthy. 'Oh, I don't know about
that,' she answered, as she left him with her sweetest smile. But though
she could thus smile at her father's joke, she had already made up her
mind that there was still something to be learned as to her promised
husband before she could place herself altogether in his hands. She
would ask him whether he thought himself liable to injury from this
proposed marriage; and though he should deny any such thought, she would
know from the manner of his denial what his true feelings were.
And he, too, on that night, during his silent walk with Miss Le Smyrger,