However, thoughts of Maude continued to possess me. She still appeared
the most desirable of beings, and a fortnight after my repulse, without
any excuse at all, I telegraphed the George Hutchinses that I was coming
to pay them a visit. Mrs. George, wearing a knowing smile, met me at the
station in a light buck-board.
"I've asked Maude to dinner," she said....
Thus with masculine directness I returned to the charge, and Maude's
continued resistance but increased my ardour; could not see why she
continued to resist me.
"Because I don't love you," she said.
This was incredible. I suggested that she didn't know what love was, and
she admitted it was possible: she liked me very, very much. I told her,
sagely, that this was the best foundation for matrimony. That might be,
but she had had other ideas. For one thing, she felt that she did not
know me.... In short, she was charming and maddening in her defensive
ruses, in her advances and retreats, for I pressed her hard during the
four weeks which followed, and in them made four visits. Flinging caution
to the winds, I did not even pretend to George that I was coming to see
him on business. I had the Hutchins family on my side, for they had the
sense to see that the match would be an advantageous one; I even summoned
up enough courage to talk to Ezra Hutchins on the subject.
"I'll not attempt to influence Maude, Mr. Paret--I've always said I
wouldn't interfere with her choice. But as you are a young man of sound
habits, sir, successful in your profession, I should raise no objection.
I suppose we can't keep her always."
To conceal his emotion, he pulled out the watch he lived by. "Why, it's
church time!" he said.... I attended church regularly at Elkington....
On a Sunday night in June, following a day during which victory seemed
more distant than ever, with startling unexpectedness Maude capitulated.
She sat beside me on the bench, obscured, yet the warm night quivered
with her presence. I felt her tremble.... I remember the first exquisite
touch of her soft cheek. How strange it was that in conquest the tumult
of my being should be stilled, that my passion should be transmuted into
awe that thrilled yet disquieted! What had I done? It was as though I had
suddenly entered an unimagined sanctuary filled with holy flame....
Presently, when we began to talk, I found myself seeking more familiar
levels. I asked her why she had so long resisted me, accusing her of
having loved me all the time.
"Yes, I think I did, Hugh. Only--I didn't know it."
"You must have felt something, that afternoon when I first proposed to
you!"
"You didn't really want me, Hugh. Not then."
Surprised, and a little uncomfortable at this evidence of intuition, I
started to protest. It seemed to me then as though I had always wanted
her.
"No, no," she exclaimed, "you didn't. You were carried away by your
feelings--you hadn't made up your mind. Indeed, I can't see why you want
me now."
"You believe I do," I said, and drew her toward me.
"Yes, I--I believe it, now. But I can't see why. There must be so many
attractive girls in the city, who know so much more than I do."
I sought fervidly to reassure her on this point.... At length when we
went into the house she drew away from me at arm's length and gave me one
long searching look, as though seeking to read my soul.
"Hugh, you will always love me--to the very end, won't you?"
"Yes," I whispered, "always."
In the library, one on each side of the table, under the lamp, Ezra
Hutchins and his wife sat reading. Mrs. Hutchins looked up, and I saw
that she had divined.
"Mother, I am engaged to Hugh," Maude said, and bent over and kissed her.
Ezra and I stood gazing at them. Then he turned to me and pressed my
hand.
"Well, I never saw the man who was good enough for her, Hugh. But God
bless you, my son. I hope you will prize her as we prize her."
Mrs. Hutchins embraced me. And through her tears she, too, looked long
into my face. When she had released me Ezra had his watch in his hand.
"If you're going on the ten o'clock train, Hugh--"
"Father!" Maude protested, laughing, "I must say I don't call that very
polite."...
In the train I slept but fitfully, awakening again and again to recall
the extraordinary fact that I was now engaged to be married, to go over
the incidents of the evening. Indifferent to the backings and the
bumpings of the car, the voices in the stations, the clanging of
locomotive bells and all the incomprehensible startings and stoppings,
exalted yet troubled I beheld Maude luminous with the love I had
amazingly awakened, a love somewhere beyond my comprehension. For her
indeed marriage was made in heaven. But for me? Could I rise now to the
ideal that had once been mine, thrust henceforth evil out of my life?
Love forever, live always in this sanctuary she had made for me? Would
the time come when I should feel a sense of bondage?...
The wedding was set for the end of September. I continued to go every
week to Elkington, and in August, Maude and I spent a fortnight at the
sea. There could be no doubt as to my mother's happiness, as to her
approval of Maude; they loved each other from the beginning. I can
picture them now, sitting together with their sewing on the porch of the
cottage at Mattapoisett. Out on the bay little white-caps danced in the
sunlight, sail-boats tacked hither and thither, the strong cape breeze,
laden with invigorating salt, stirred Maude's hair, and occasionally
played havoc with my papers.
"She is just the wife for you, Hugh," my mother confided to me. "If I had
chosen her myself I could not have done better," she added, with a smile.