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Neither was it absolutely necessary in a wife that she should understand more of her husband than his heart. Many learned men had had mere housekeepers for wives, and been satisfied at least never complained. And what did she know about the fishers, men or women? There were none at Wastbeach.
"Do fresh water fishes smell the same as the sea fishes, Malcolm?" she asked. "Indeed I am not certain, my lady. Why?" "Because if they do, You remember what you said to me as we passed the sawmill in the wood?" It was by silence Malcolm showed he did remember. "Does not this night remind you of that one at Wastbeach when we came upon you singing?" said Clementina. "It is like it, my lady now.
Now that I am going to be a fisherman's wife, it must be a strong hand it must work. What homage shall you require of me, Malcolm? What will you have me do to rise a little nearer your level? Shall I give away lands and money? And shall I live with you in the Seaton? or will you come and fish at Wastbeach?" "Forgive me, my lady: I can't think about things now even with you in them.
On the fourth, with an early start, and a good rest in the middle, they accomplished a yet greater distance, and at night arrived at The Gloom, Wastbeach after a journey of continuous delight to three at least of the party, Florimel and Malcolm having especially enjoyed that portion of it which led through Surrey, where England and Scotland meet and mingle in waste, heathery moor, and rich valley.
Now that I am going to be a fisherman's wife, it must be a strong hand it must work. What homage shall you require of me, Malcolm? What will you have me do to rise a little nearer your level? Shall I give away lands and money? And shall I live with you in the Seaton? or will you come and fish at Wastbeach?" "Forgive me, my lady; I can't think about things now even with you in them.
They were married, at Wastbeach, both couples in the same ceremony. Immediately after the wedding, the painter and his bride set out for Rome, and the marquis and marchioness went on board the Psyche.
She, as well as Lady Bellair, had friends upon the way, but no desire to lengthen the journey or shorten its tedium by visiting them. The letter would have found her at Wastbeach instead of London, had not the society and instructions of the schoolmaster detained her a willing prisoner to its heat and glare and dust. Him only in all London must she see to bid goodbye.
Wastbeach was the quietest of all quiet neighbourhoods; it was the loveliest of spring summer weather; and the variety of scenery on moor, in woodland, and on coast, within easy reach of such good horsewomen, was wonderful. The first day they rested the horses that would rest, but the next day were in the saddle immediately after an early breakfast. They took the forest way.
Many learned men had had mere housekeepers for wives, and been satisfied, at least never complained. And what did she know about the fishers, men or women there were none at Wastbeach?
They were married at Wastbeach, both couples in the same ceremony. Immediately after the wedding the painter and his bride set out for Rome, and the marquis and marchioness went on board the Psyche.
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