Woman As She Should Be by Mary E. Herbert


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Page 37

Arthur smiled and shook his head, though the subject was by no means an
unpleasing one, at least judging from his animated countenance, and the
rapt attention which he paid to every word.

"But who, may I ask, Ernest, was your informant as to my claims to the
title of 'woman-hater?'"

"Not Miss Wiltshire, I can credibly affirm. More than that I do not
think it is fair to tell you."

"Well, well, I am perfectly satisfied, and now I think it is time for us
to retrace our steps in the direction of home."




CHAPTER XV.


"And so our dear young lady is married, Ellen?" said Mrs. Williamson to
her daughter, who had just returned from a visit to B----.

"Yes, mother, and a beautiful bride she made."

"Ay, I doubt it not, and as good as beautiful," said the father, who had
just come in to Ellen's neat little cottage, to hear all the particulars
connected with her late journey.

"And they treated you well, Ellen, did they not?"

"Treated me =well=? why, mother, it was like a new world; and they were
so kind to me, took me to every place, and showed me everything worth
seeing. And, dear me, but it is a beautiful city; such grand buildings,
such water-works, such parks, all laid out with trees, and walks, and
grass-plots, and seats, where you can rest whenever you choose,--and
then at night, the splendid shops are so dazzlingly lit up, and the
streets almost as bright as day. Oh, surely it is a fine thing to live
in the city!"

"Ha, ha," said a clear, manly voice, and the speaker entered the door;
"so my little bird has become restive since her taste of city life, and
longs to fly away again."

"Indeed, Edward, that is not true. If I had been brought up to
city-ways, I think I should like to live there; but, now, I like my home
better, far better. I only wish we could have the meetings on Sunday,
that I went to there; oh, mother," she said, as she turned suddenly
round to address her, "it would have done your heart good to have heard
the singing, and have listened to the sermons, and such grand churches,
all crowded too."

"But I want to hear everything from the beginning," said Mr. Williamson.

"Well, then, I will commence my history from the time we got there. You
know Miss Agnes was expecting me, and they kept a constant look-out, so
that the vessel had not been an hour at the wharf, but what should I see
but a splendid carriage, driven by two white horses, galloping down, and
how overjoyed I was when Miss Agnes stepped out, and came on board, and
ran up and kissed me, and we both shed tears, I believe, for I saw her
put her handkerchief to her eyes, and I cried for joy at seeing her
again. And then I must go right home with her; she would fain have had
Edward, too, but he could not leave his vessel, yet was quite willing
that I should go, so my trunk was handed in, we both stepped into the
carriage, and were off in a few moments, Edward standing on the deck,
watching till we were out of sight; at least I take that for granted.

"Well, we drove to her uncle's dwelling, a large white house, with
splendidly ornamented pillars in front, and a balcony all round. It
stands in the midst of a park, at least so I call it; and there is a
fountain just before the door, flinging its glistening waters to a great
height, and grass, and flowers, and large shady trees, and winding
walks, and it looked altogether so lovely to me, with the sun shining
down upon it, that I cannot find words to describe it. Well, we got out
at the hall-door, and I followed Agnes into a parlor, where her uncle
and aunt were sitting, and, would you believe it, as soon as they saw me
they came forward, and kissed me, and made me sit by them, and told me
that Agnes had related to them all the kindness that had been shown to
her by our family, and how thankful they were to us all for it; and then
asked me about my husband, who, they said, had rescued her from a watery
grave, and how anxious they were to see him, and hoped he would be able
to call soon, and so he did that very evening, and a happy time we had
of it!

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Wed 14th Jan 2026, 20:53