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talkeditover,andlaughedandshooktheirheads,and
builtoddspeculationsuponit.
AliceMaybellhadgrownupfromorphanchildhood
undertheroofofWyvern.Theoldsquirehadbeen,
afterafashion,kindtothatprettywaifofhumanity,
whichachancewaveoffortunehadthrownathisdoor.
Shewasthechildofadistantcousin,whohad
happened,beingaclergyman,todieinoccupation
ofthevicarageofWyvern.Heryoungmotherlay,
underthebranchesofthetwogreattrees,inthelonely
cornerofthevillagechurchyard;andnottwoyears
latertheVicardied,andwasburiedbesideher.
Melancholy,gentleVicar!Somegoodjudges,
Ibelieve,pronouncedhissermonsadmirable.Seedily
clothed,withkindlypatiencevisitinghispoor;very
frugal–hisprettyyoungwifeandhewereyethappy
inthelightandglowofthetruelovethatiseternal.
Hewastoherthenonpareilofvicars–theloveliest,
wisest,wittiest,andbestofmen.Shetohim–whatshall
Isay?The
same
beautifulfirstlove.Neveradayolder.
Everysummerthrewnewgoldonherrichhair,and
asofterandbrighterbloomonhercheeks,andmade
herdeareranddearerthanhecouldspeak.Hecould
onlylookandfeelhisheartswellingwithavain
yearningtotellthelovethatlightedhisfacewithits
gloryandcalledamisttohiskindeye.
Andthencameatimewhenshehadasecrettotell
herWillie.Fullofawildfearanddelight,intheirtiny
drawing-room,claspedineachother’sarms,theywept
forjoy,andakindofwonderandsomedimunspoken
tremblingsoffear,andlovedoneanother,itseemed,
asitweremoredesperatelythanever.
Andthen,ashereadaloudtoherintheevenings,
herprettyfingerswerebusywithanewsortofwork,
fullofwonderfulanddelightfulinterest.Alittleguest
wascoming,alittlecreaturewithanimmortalsoul,
thatwastobeascleverandhandsomeasWillie.
“And,oh,Willie,darling,don’tyouhopeImaylive
toseeit?Ah,Willie,wouldnotitbesad?”
