Confession - Page 193/274

I thanked him for his good opinion, and civilly wished him--as it

was a matter which seemed to promise him so much satisfaction--that

the duration of the honeymoon should be as short as possible. He

thanked me affectionately--grasped my hand with the squeeze of a

blacksmith, and entreated that I should go back and take a drink of

punch with him. As an earnest of what he could give me, he pulled a

handful of lemons from his pocket which he had bought from a shop

by the way. I need not say I expressed my gratitude, though I

declined his invitation. I then told him I was about to remove to

Alabama, and he immediately proposed to go along with me. I reminded

him that he was just married, and it would be expected of him that

he would see the honeymoon out.

"Ah, faith!" he replied, "and there's sense in what you say; it

must be done, I suppose; but devil a bit, to my thinking, does any

moon last a month in this climate; and the first cloudy weather,

d'ye see, and I'm after you."

It was difficult to escape from the generous embraces of my ardent

father-in-law; and the whole street witnessed them.

That afternoon I spent in part with the Edgertons. I went soon after

my own dinner and found the family at theirs. William Edgerton

was present. The old man insisted that I should take a seat at

the table and join them in a bottle of wine, which I did. It was

a family, bearing apparently all the elements within itself of a

happiness the most perfect and profound. Particularly an amiable

family. Yet there was no insipidity. The father has already been

made known; the son should be by this time; the mother was one of

those strong-minded, simple women, whose mind may be expressed by

its most striking characteristic--independence. She had that most

obvious trait of aristocratic breeding, a quiet, indefinable,

easy dignity--a seemingly natural quality, easy itself, that puts

everybody at ease, and yet neither in itself nor in others suffered

the slightest approach to be made to unbecoming familiarity. A

sensible, gentlewoman--literally gentle--yet so calm, so firm, you

would have supposed she had never known one emotion calculated to

stir the sweet, glass-like placidity of her deportment.

And yet, amidst all this calm placidity, with an eye looking

benevolence, and a considerateness that took note of your smallest

want, she sustained the pangs of one yearning for her firstborn;

dissatisfied and disappointed in his career, and apprehensive for

his fate. The family was no longer happy. The worm was busy in all

their hearts. They treated me kindly, but it was obvious that they

were suffering. A visible constraint chilled and baffled conversation;

and I could see the deepening anxieties which clouded the face of

the mother, whenever her eye wandered in the direction of her son.

This it did, in spite, I am convinced, of her endeavors to prevent

it.