Unable to sleep, Abby had risen in the early morning.
The dew was still on the grass, as she wandered out into the rose garden.
She found the fountain and sat down, with her head aching from lack of sleep.
Her heart was confused by the emotions that she was feeling.
She could not resolve them.
She loved John W.
But, she could only wonder what he saw in her.
He was a descendant of one of the oldest families in Virginia, wealthy and clever, with every possible advantage.
Yet, he was so eager to stoop from his position to love her.
For his own sake, she wished to refuse his love.
But, how could she?
A feeling of dissatisfaction rose within her, a wish that she had been born, endowed with some great gift that would have lifted her up next to him.
How happy she would have been!
In that case, how eager to devote her life to him!
Just as the thought came to her, she saw him coming up to her quietly.
“Abby, your face is pale, and there are tears in your eyes. What is the matter??”
“I’ve no trouble, John W.,” she replied. “I came here only to think.”
“Of what, Abby?”
Her face flushed.
“I can’t tell you,” she replied. “You can’t expect me to tell you everything.”
“You tell me nothing, Abby. A few words from you, and I will be the happiest man on earth. But, you won’t speak them.”
He became serious and moved toward her.
Again, her gaze dropped to the ground.
“Abby, I’m pleading to you,” he said, “for the gift of your enduring love. Give me that, and I’ll be content for the rest of my life. You refuse me out of some foolish notion that our positions are critically imbalanced, but love knows no such difference.”
“The world certainly does, John W.,” she interjected. “Society does.”
“The world? Society?” he repeated with astonishment. “Who cares?”
“You owe it to the honor of your family name,” she said. “Nothing at all can be more important than that.”
“Of that,” he observed, “I, alone, must be allowed to be the judge, Abby.”
She bowed submissively.
“The dearest thing in life to me is the honor of my family name,” said John W.
“I agree.”
He raised his finger.
“And … though I love you so dearly that my very life is bound up in yours, I’d not ask you to be my wife, if I thought that I was bringing dishonor to my family.”
“You don’t know all there is to know,” she cried.
“I know the story of your misfortunes. I don’t deem it sufficient to part us. Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” she replied, slowly, “I believe you.”
“Then, why not trust me? I know your story. It’s an old story after all. I know it by heart. I’ve actually weighed it quite carefully. It’s not been a lightly considered matter with me at all. After thinking it over, I’ve decided that it’s not sufficient to part us.”
“Would you always think so? The time might come, when the remembrance of my father's—.”
“Hush!” he muttered. “This matter must never be discussed between us. Honestly, I’d not care for the whole world to know your story, Abby. I know it, certainly Lady Marks and Jameson know it, but there’s no need for it to be known to others around. Believe me, we can keep it hidden.”
He paused abruptly, with her dark eyes gazing up at him.
“What is it?” he asked, gently.
“I wish you would let me tell you all about it, how my mother came to marry my father. May I tell you, John W.?”
“No,” he replied, “I’d rather not hear it. Lady Marks has told me all I care to know. It’ll be better, believe me, for the story to die away. If I’d wished to hear it, I’d have asked you to tell it me.”
“It would make me happier,” she said, “if I knew for sure that there was no mistake.”
“There’s no mistake, Abby. Lady Marks has told me, and it’s not likely that she made a mistake, is it?”
“No. She knows the whole story from beginning to end. If she has told you, you know all.”
“Certainly, I do. And, knowing all, I’ve come here to ask you to honor me with your love, to be my wife.”
He saw that she hesitated.
“Imagine what life could be for us, Abby. And, if we part, you and I, we would marry no one else. We’d drag on, weary and tried, without a gleam of comfort.”
“It’s true,” she said, slowly.
“Of course, it’s true.”
“I do love you,” she said, unguardedly.
“Then, you’ll be my wife?”
She drew back trembling, her face as pale as death.
“Be my wife,” he repeated.
“It’s for your own sake,” she emphasized. “Can’t you see? Don’t you understand?”
“For my sake, then, allow me to have you.”
Bending down, he kissed her face.
And, this time she offered no resistance.
“Now,” said John W., triumphantly, “we will never be separated. Forget all doubts and fears.”
She raised her eyes to his, her cheeks drenched with happy tears.
“You’re so good to me, John W.”
“I love you so much,” he returned.
The happy eyes were raised to his face.
“Why me, John W.? You see girls many times better suited to you than I. Why do you choose me?”
“What a question! How can I tell why I love you? My soul is attracted to your soul, Abby. I’ll be unwilling to leave you, when I go. I’ll want to take my wife with me.”