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Updated: May 9, 2025
Her life at this moment was one pulse of voiceless happiness: it was one strain of sensation, emotion, passion, love; but it was not conscious thought nor yet perception of outward things by her senses. If yesterday at Dunaston had been a day of blessedness, this was its twin sister, and the better favored of the two.
She believed that any woman can marry any man if she only wills to do so; and from the day when she was seventeen, and they had had a picnic at Dunaston, she had made up her mind to marry Edgar Harrowby. When he came home for good, unmarried and unengaged, she knew that she should succeed; and Edgar knew it too.
So she sat in all the turmoil of her new birth, distracted between love and shame, and not knowing which was stronger feeling as if in a dream, but, every now and then waking to think of Dunaston, and should she go or stay away when, just as little Fina came running to her, ready dressed and loud in her insistence that they should set off at once, the lodge-gates swung back and Edgar Harrowby rode up to the door.
People are always more or less out of sorts after a ball, and a day spent in the open air soothes the feverish and braces up the limp. Wherefore the rectory gave a picnic to blow away the lingering vapors of last evening at the Hill, and the place of meeting chosen was Dunaston Castle. Leam had of course been invited with the rest.
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