This Man's Wife

“Robert,” she said, after a thoughtful pause, “do you wish me to give up that request?”

“Give up? No, I should be ready to insist upon it if you did. There, that is all past. It was the one boyish folly of my love, one of which I am heartily ashamed.”

“I think he wants to be your friend as well as mine,” she said, “and I should have liked it; but – ”

“Your will is my law, Millicent! He shall marry us.”

“But, Robert – ”

“If you oppose me now in this, I shall think you have not forgiven the folly to which I have confessed. I can hardly forgive myself that meanness. You will not add to my pain.”

“Add to your pain?” she said, laying her hand once more upon his breast. “Robert, you do not know me yet.”

And so it was that Christie Bayle joined the hand of the woman he had loved to that of the man who had told her she would in future be his very own – his property, his slave.

Pretty well all Castor was present, and at the highest pitch of excitement, for a handsomer pair, they said, had never stood in the old chancel to be made one.

And they were made one. The register was signed, and then, in the midst of a murmuring buzz and rustle of garments that filled the great building like the gathering of a storm, Robert Hallam and his fair young wife moved down the aisle, towards where a man was waiting to give the signal to the ringers to begin; and the crowd had filled every corner near the door, and almost blocked the path. The sun shone out brilliantly, and the buzz and rustle grew more and more like the gathering of that storm, which burst at last as the young couple reached the porch, in a thundering cheer.

Millicent looked flushed, and there was a red spot in Hallam’s cheeks as he walked out, proud and defiant, towards where the yellow chaise from the “George,” with four post-horses, was waiting.

The coach had just come in, and the passengers were standing gazing at the novel scene.

Again the storm burst in a tremendous cheer as Hallam handed his young wife into the chaise, and then there seemed to be another nearing storm, sending its harbinger in a fashion which made firm, self-contained Robert Hallam turn pale, as a hand was laid upon his arm.

“He said that if anything did go wrong, he should come back,” flashed through his brain.

Stephen Crellock was bending forward to whisper a few words in his ear.

Volume Two – Chapter One.

The Thorny Way – Millicent Hallam’s Home

“How dare you! Be off! Go to your mistress. Don’t pester me, woman.”

“Didn’t know it were pestering you, sir, to ask for my rights. Two years doo, and it’s time it was paid.”

“Ask your mistress, I tell you. Here, Julia.”

A dark-haired, thoughtful-looking child of about six years old loosened her grasp of Thisbe King’s dress, and crossed the room slowly towards where Robert Hallam sat, newspaper in hand, by his half-finished breakfast.

“Here, Julia!” was uttered with no unkindly intent; but the call was like a command – an imperious command, such as would be given to a dog.

The child was nearly close to him when he gave the paper a sharp rustle, and she sprang back.

“Pish!” he exclaimed, laughing unpleasantly, “what a silly little girl you are! Did you think I was going to strike you?”

“N-no, papa,” said the child nervously.

“Then why did you flinch away? Are you afraid of me?”

The child looked at him intently for a few moments, and then said softly:

“I don’t know.”

“Here, Thisbe,” said Hallam, frowning, “I’ll see to that. You can go now. Leave Miss Julia here.”

“Mayn’t I go with Thisbe, papa?” said the child eagerly.

“No; stay with me. I want to talk to you. Come here.”

The child’s countenance fell, and she sidled towards Hallam, looking wistfully the while at Thisbe, who left the room reluctantly and closed the door.

As soon as they were alone Hallam threw down the paper, and drew the child upon his knee, stroking her beautiful, long, dark hair, and held his face towards her.

“Well,” he said sharply, “haven’t you a kiss for papa?”

The child kissed him on both cheeks quickly, and then sat still and watched him.

“That’s better,” he said smiling. “Little girls always get rewards when they are good. Now I shall buy you a new doll for that.”

The child’s eyes brightened.

“Have you got plenty of money, papa?” she said quickly.

“Well, I don’t know about plenty,” he said with a curious laugh, as he glanced round the handsomely-furnished room, “but enough for that.”

“Will you give me some?”

“Money is not good for little girls,” said Hallam, smiling.

“But I’m not little now,” said the child quietly. “Mamma says I’m quite a companion to her, and she doesn’t know what she would do without me.”

“Indeed!” said Hallam sarcastically. “Well, suppose I give you some money, what shall you buy – a doll?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got five dolls now,” she said, counting on her little pink fingers, “mamma, papa, Thisbe, and me, and Mr Bayle.”

Hallam ground out an ejaculation, making the child start from him in alarm.

“Sit still, little one,” he said hastily. “Why, what’s the matter? Here, what would you do with the money?”

“Give it to mamma to pay Thisbe. Mamma was crying about wanting some money yesterday for grand-mamma.”

“Did your grandmother come and ask mamma for money yesterday?”

“Yes; she said grandpapa was so ill and worried that she did not know what to do.”

Hallam rose from his seat, setting down the child, and began walking quickly about the room, while the girl, after watching him for a few moments in silence, began to edge her way slowly towards the door, as if to escape.