"Ay,lad,almost afraid of my happiness.God make me worthy of it,and of her!"He lifted his eyes upwards;there was in them a new look,sweet and solemn,a look which expressed the satisfied content of a life now rounded and completed by that other dear life which it had received into and united with its own--making a full and perfect whole,which,however kindly and fondly it may look on friends and kindred outside,has no absolute need of any,but is complete in and sufficient to itself,as true marriage should be.A look,unconsciously fulfilling the law--God's own law--that a man shall leave father and mother,brethren and companions,and shall cleave unto his wife,and "they two shall become one flesh."And although I rejoiced in his joy,still I felt half-sadly for a moment,the vague,fine line of division which was thus for evermore drawn between him and me of no fault on either side,and of which he himself was unaware.It was but the right and natural law of things,the difference between the married and unmarried,which only the latter feel.Which,perhaps,the Divine One meant them to feel--that out of their great solitude of this world may grow a little inner Eden,where they may hear His voice,"walking in the garden in the cool of the day."We went round John's garden;there was nothing Eden-like about it,being somewhat of a waste still,divided between ancient cabbage-beds,empty flower-beds,and great old orchard-trees,very thinly laden with fruit.
"We'll make them bear better next year,"said John,hopefully."We may have a very decent garden here in time."He looked round his little domain with the eye of a master,and put his arm,half proudly,half shyly,round his wife's shoulders--she had sidled up to him,ostensibly bringing him a letter,though possibly only for an excuse,because in those sweet early days they naturally liked to be in each other's sight continually.It was very beautiful to see what a demure,soft,meek matronliness had come over the high spirit of the "Nut-browne Mayde.""May I read?"she said,peeping over him.
"Of course you may,little one."A comical pet name for him to give her,who was anything but small.I could have smiled,remembering the time when John Halifax bowed to the stately and dignified young gentlewoman who stood at Mrs.Tod's door.To think he should ever have come to call Miss Ursula March "little one!"But this was not exactly a time for jesting,since,on reading the letter,I saw the young wife flush an angry red,and then look grave.
Until John,crumpling up the paper,and dropping it almost with a boyish frolic into the middle of a large rosemary-bush,took his wife by both her hands,and gazed down into her troubled face,smiling.
"You surely don't mind this,love?We knew it all before.It can make no possible difference.""No!But it is so wrong--so unjust.I never believed he dared do it--to you.""Hear her,Phineas!She thinks nobody dare do anything ill to her husband--not even Richard Brithwood.""He is a--"
"Hush,dear!--we will not talk about him;since,for all his threats,he can do us no harm,and,poor man!he never will be half as happy as we."That was true.So Mr.Brithwood's insulting letter was left to moulder harmlessly away in the rosemary-bush,and we all walked up and down the garden,talking over a thousand plans for making ends meet in that little household.To their young hopefulness even poverty itself became a jest;and was met cheerfully,like an honest,hard-featured,hard-handed friend,whose rough face was often kindly,and whose harsh grasp made one feel the strength of one's own.
"We mean,"John said gaily,"to be two living Essays on the Advantages of Poverty.We are not going to be afraid of it or ashamed of it.We don't care who knows it.We consider that our respectability lies solely in our two selves.""But your neighbours?"
"Our neighbours may think of us exactly what they like.Half the sting of poverty is gone when one keeps house for one's own comfort,and not for the comments of one's neighbours.""I should think not,"Ursula cried,tossing back her head in merry defiance."Besides,we are young,we have few wants,and we can easily reduce our wants to our havings.""And no more grey silk gowns?"said her husband,half-fondly,half-sadly.
"You will not be so rude as to say I shall not look equally well in a cotton one?And as for being as happy in it--why,I know best."He smiled at her once more,--that tender,manly smile which made all soft and lustrous the inmost depths of his brown eyes;truly no woman need be afraid,with a smile like that,to be the strength,the guidance,the sunshine of her home.
We went in,and the young mistress showed us her new house;we investigated and admired all,down to the very scullery;then we adjourned to the sitting-room--the only one--and,after tea,Ursula arranged her books,some on stained shelves,which she proudly informed me were of John's own making,and some on an old spinet,which he had picked up,and which,he said,was of no other use than to hold books,since she was not an accomplished young lady,and could neither sing nor play.
"But you don't dislike the spinet,Ursula?It caught my fancy.Do you know I have a faint remembrance that once,on such a thing as this,my mother used to play?"He spoke in a low voice;Ursula stole up to him with a fond,awed look.
"You never told me anything about your mother?""Dear,I had little to tell.Long ago you knew whom you were going to marry--John Halifax,who had no friends,no kindred,whose parents left him nothing but his name.""And you cannot remember them?"
"My father not at all;my mother very little.""And have you nothing belonging to them?"
"Only one thing.Should you like to see it?""Very much."She still spoke slowly,and with slight hesitation.
