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Updated: July 14, 2025
'You will be one of the prettiest peeresses who ever sat in that gallery, and the purest, and truest, and dearest, protested her lover-husband. 'Oh, if I am good enough for you, I am satisfied. I married you, and not the House of Lords. But I am afraid your friends will all say, "Hartfield, why in heaven's name did you marry that uncultivated person?" Look!
The magpies flew joyfully in myriads, making one way for the tiny feet of the little lady. Trembling with joy, and with heart fluttering more than the bridge of wings, she crossed the River of Heaven, and was in the arms of her husband. This she did every year. The lover-husband stayed on his side of the river, and the wife came to him on the magpie bridge, save on the sad occasion when it rained.
Well her mind suddenly came up against the remembrance, as against a sober fact, that in her passionate wishings of yesterday she had not wished for a lover-husband, nor for children. She had asked for a husband who would give her money, and leisure to be rested and pretty, and a rose-garden! And here, apparently, was her wish uncannily fulfilled.
Milly could admire the mastery of the painting even in the swell of her hatred for the woman who had taken her lover-husband from her. He was young when he had done that, barely twenty-seven. A man who could paint like that at twenty-seven ought to have gone far.
With their serene and joy-illumined faces they somehow suggested the holy family, symbolical of all that was divine in a sordid world. The girl smiled and waved to Rosa, but the young man doffed his hat coldly and hastened by. "The sweet little Elena," said Rosa to herself, "and her lover-husband.
Her lover-husband took that little uplifted hand, and drawing it in his own, kissed it fondly, and so for a moment they were very quiet, while the little brown bird of music poured from its palpitating throat a cadence of heart-moving song.
Lock-jawed in grim death, the lover-husband softly clasped his bride, true to her even in death's dream. Ah, heaven, when man thus keeps his faith, wilt thou be faithless who created the faithful one? But they cannot break faith who never plighted it. It needs not to be said what nameless misery now wrapped the lonely widow.
Here, according to the story which Marguerite is supposed to have told afterwards, they endeavoured to live by killing the wild animals and eating their flesh; but her lover-husband died, so also did her child soon after it was born, and then the old nurse, and the unhappy Marguerite was left alone with the wild beasts, especially the white Polar bears, who thronged round her hut.
I, too, Brian, had my dreams when I was a girl, my dreams of happiness, such as every true woman hopes for; of a home with all that home means; of a lover-husband; of little ones who would call me 'mother'; and my dreams ended, Brian, on a battlefield of the Civil War. He went from me the very day we were promised. He never returned.
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