CHAPTER XXVIII
With what degree of soundness our pair of lovers slumbered on thatmemorable Saturday night, let those who have been so fortunate orunfortunate as to have been placed in analogous circumstances, formtheir own opinion.
It is, however, certain that Arthur gazed upon the moon and sundry ofthe larger planets for some hours, until they unkindly set, and lefthim, for his candle had burnt out, to find his way to bed in the dark.With his reflections we will not trouble ourselves; or, rather, wewill not intrude upon their privacy. But there was another person inthe house who sat at an open window and looked upon the heavens--Angela to wit. Let us avail ourselves of our rightful privilege, andlook into her thoughts.
Arthur's love had come upon her as a surprise, but it had found aperfect home. All the days and hours that she had spent in hiscompany, had, unknown to herself, been mysteriously employed inpreparing a habitation to receive it. We all know the beautiful Biblestory of the Creation, how first there was an empty void, and theSpirit brooding on the waters, then light, and then life, and last,man coming to turn all things to his uses. Surely that story, which isthe type and symbol of many things, is of none more so than of thegrowth and birth of a perfected love in the human heart.
The soil is made ready in the dead winter, and receives the seed intoits bosom. Then comes the spring, and it is clothed with verdure.Space is void till the sun shoots its sudden rays athwart it, andmakes it splendid; the heart is cold and unwitting of its ends, tillthe spirit broods upon it, as upon the waters, and it grows quick withthe purposes of life. And then what a change is there! What has theflower in common with the seed from whence it sprang, or the noondaysky with the darkness before the dawn?
Thinking in her chamber, with the night air playing on her hot brow,and her hand pressed upon her heart, as though to still the tumult ofits joy, Angela grew vaguely conscious of these things.
"Was she the same in heart and mind that she had been a month ago? No,a thousand times, no. Then what was this mysterious change that seemedto shake her inmost life to its foundations? What angel had troubledthe waters into which she had so newly plunged? And whence came thehealing virtue that she found in them, bringing rest after the vaguetrouble of the last two weeks, with sight to see the only good--herlove, with speed to follow, and strength to hold? Oh, happy, happyworld! oh, merciful Creator, who gave her to drink of such a livingspring! oh, Arthur, beloved Arthur!"
On Sunday mornings it was Pigott's habit to relax the Draconianseverity of her laws in the matter of breakfast, which, generallyspeaking, was not till about half-past eight o'clock. At that hourprecisely, on the Sabbath in question, she appeared as usual--no, notas usual, for, it being Sunday, she had on her stiff, black gown--and,with all due solemnity, made the tea.
A few minutes elapsed, and Angela entered, dressed in white, and verylovely in her simple, tight-fitting robe, but a trifle pale, and witha shy look upon her face.
She greeted her nurse with a kiss.
"Why, what is the matter with you, dearie?" ejaculated Pigott, whosewatchful eye detected a change she could not define; "you lookdifferent somehow."
"Hush! I will tell you by-and-by."
At that moment Arthur's quick step was heard advancing down thepassage, together with a pattering noise that announced the presenceof Aleck. And, as they came, Angela, poor Angela, grew red and redder,and yet more painfully red, till Pigott, watching her face, wasenabled to form a shrewd guess as to what was the cause of herunaccustomed looks.
On came the steps, and open flew the door, more and more ready to sinkinto the earth looked Angela, and so interested grew nurse Pigott,that she actually poured some hot tea on to her dress, a thing shecould never remember having done before.
The first to enter was Aleck, who, following his custom, sprang uponAngela and licked her hand, and behind Aleck, looking somewhatconfused, but handsome and happy--for his was one of those faces thatbecome handsome when their owners are happy--came Aleck's master. Andthen there ensued an infinitesimal but most awkward pause.
On such occasions as the present, namely, the first meeting after anengagement, there is always--especially when it occurs in the presenceof a third person--a very considerable difficulty in the minds of theparties to know what demeanour they are to adopt towards one another.Are they to treat the little affair of the previous evening as a kindof confidential communication, not to be alluded to except in privateconversation, and to drop into the Mr. and Miss of yesterday? Thatwould certainly be the easiest, but then it would also be a decidedact of mutual retreat. Or are they to rush into each other's arms asbecomes betrothed lovers? This process is so new that they feel thatit still requires private rehearsal. And, meanwhile, time presses, andeverybody is beginning to stare, and something _must_ be done.
These were very much the feelings of Arthur and Angela. He hesitatedbefore her, confused, and she kept her head down over the dog. Butpresently Aleck, getting bored, moved on, and, as it would have beeninane to continue to stare at the floor, she had to raise herself asslowly as she might. Soon their eyes arrived in the same plane, andwhether a mutual glance of intelligence was exchanged, or whethertheir power of attraction overcame his power of resistance, it is noteasy to determine, but certain it is that, following a primary naturallaw, Arthur gravitated towards her, and kissed her on the face.
"My!" exclaimed Pigott, and the milk-jug rolled unheeded on the floor.
"Hum! I suppose I had better explain," began he.
"I think you have spilt the milk," added she.
"That we have become engaged and are----"
"All to pieces, I declare," broke in Angela, with her head somewherenear the carpet.
And then they both laughed.
"Well, I never, no, not in all my born days! Sir and Miss Angela, allI have got to say about this extraordinary proceeding"--they glancedat each other in alarm--"is that I am very glad to hear on it, and Ihope and pray how as you may be happy, and, if you treat my Angelaright, you'll be just the happiest and luckiest man in the threekingdoms, including Ireland the Royal Family, and, if you treat herwrong, worse will come to you; and her poor mother's last words, as Iheard with my own ears, will come true to you, and serve you right--and there's all the milk upon the floor. And God bless you both, mydears, is the prayer of an old woman."
And here the worthy soul broke down, and began to cry, nor wereAngela's eyes free from tears.
After this little episode, breakfast proceeded in something like theusual way. Church was at 10.30, and, a while before the hour, Arthurand Angela strolled down to the spot that had already become as holyground to them, and looked into each other's eyes, and said again thesame sweet words. Then they went on, and mingling with the littlecongregation--that did not number more than thirty souls--they passedinto the cool quiet of the church.
"Lawks!" said a woman, as they went by, "ain't she just a beauty. Whata pretty wedding they'd make!"
Arthur overheard it, and noted the woman, and afterwards found apretext to give her five shillings, because he said it was a luckyomen.
On the communion-table of the pretty little church there was spreadthe "fair white cloth" of the rubric. It was the day for the monthlycelebration of the Sacrament, that met the religious requirements ofthe village.
"Will you stay to the Sacrament with me?" whispered Angela to herlover, in the interval between their seating themselves and the entryof the clergyman, Mr. Fraser's _locum tenens_.
Arthur nodded assent.
And so, when the time came, those two went up together to the altar-rails, and, kneeling side by side, ate of the bread and drank of thecup, and, rising, departed thence with a new link between them. For,be sure, part of the prayers which they offered up at that high momentwere in humble petition to the Almighty to set His solemn seal andblessing on their love. Indeed, so far as Angela was concerned, therewere few acts of her simple life that she did not consecrate byprayer, how much more, then, was she bent o
n bringing this, thegreatest of all her acts, before her Maker's throne.
Strange indeed, and full of a holy promise, is the yearning with whichwe turn to Heaven to seek sanctification of our deeds, feeling ourweakness and craving strength from the source of strength; a yearningof which the church, with that subtle knowledge of human nature, whichis one of the mainsprings of its power, has not been slow to availitself. And this need is more especially felt in matters connectedwith the noblest of all passions, perhaps because all true love andall true religion come from a common home.
Thus pledged to one another with a new and awful pledge, and knittogether in the bonds of an universal love, embracing their pooraffection as the wide skies embrace the earth, they rose, and wenttheir ways, purer to worship, and stronger to endure.
That afternoon, Arthur had a conversation with his betrothed that,partaking of a business nature in the beginning, ended rather oddly.
"I must speak to your father when he comes back to-morrow, dear," hebegan.
"My father! Oh yes, I had forgotten about that;" and she looked alittle anxious.
"Fortunately, I am fairly well off, so I see no cause why he shouldobject."
"Well, I think that he will be rather glad to get rid of Pigott andmyself. You know that he is not very fond of me."
"That is strange want of taste on his part."
"Oh, I don't know. Everybody does not see me with your eyes, Arthur."
"Because they have not the chance. All the world would love you, if itknew you. But, seriously, I think that he can hardly object, or hewould not have allowed us to be thrown so much together; for, in ninecases out of ten, that sort of thing has only one result."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that to import a young fellow into the house, and throw himsolely into a daughter's company, is very apt to bring about--well,what has been brought about."
"Then you mean that you think that I should have fallen in love withany gentleman who had come here?"
Arthur, not seeing the slight flash of indignation in her eyes,replied,
"Well, you know, there is always a risk, but I should imagine that itwould very much depend upon the gentleman."
"Arthur"--with a little stamp--"I am ashamed of you. How can you thinksuch things of me? You must have a very poor opinion of me."
"My dear, why should I suppose myself superior to anybody else, thatyou should only fall in love with me? You set too high a value on me."
"And you set too low a value on me; you do not understand me. You aremy fate, my other self; how would it have been possible for me to loveany one but you? I feel as though I had been travelling to meet yousince the beginning of the world, to stand by your side till itcrumbles away, yes, for eternity itself. Oh! Arthur, do not laugh atwhat I say. I am, indeed, only a simple girl, but, as I told you lastnight, there is something stirring in me now, my real life, my eternalpart, something that you have awakened, and with which you have todeal, something apart from the _me_ you see before you. As I speak, Ifeel and know that when we are dead and gone, I shall love you still;when more ages have passed than there are leaves upon that tree, Ishall love you still. Arthur, I am yours for ever, for the time thatis, and is to be."
She spoke with the grand freedom of one inspired, nay, he felt thatshe was inspired, and the same feeling of awe that had come upon himwhen he first saw her face, again took possession of him. Taking herhand, he kissed it.
"Dearest," he said, "dearest Angela, who am I that you should love meso? What have I done that such a treasure should be given to me? Ihope that it may be as you say!"
"It will be as I say," she answered, as she bent to kiss him. And theywent on in silence.
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