Polly thereupon, as she confided to me, straightway bestowed upon Charley, to his great embarrassment and delight, the first kiss which she had yet vouchsafed him.
"Do you know, my dear old bear, that only this afternoon I was thinking that, perhaps, we should not be married after all?"
"You don't say so, Polly," Charley said, in great astonishment; "and why not?"
"Well you see, Charley, I cannot leave Agnes now, and if you had raised the least difficulty or question——"
"Oh, come now, Polly, dash it——I beg your pardon, but I can't help it. No, really now, that is too bad. Why I should be glad, very glad to have Agnes to live with us. I like her almost as much as I do you. Not so well you know, Polly, and in a different sort of way, but still very much. And even if I did not——No, really now, Polly, that's not fair on a man."
"Never mind, Charley, it is all right now; but you see I was thinking so much of my sister and of her life, that I almost forgot what a good old bear it is, and you don't know how pleased I am that you have spoken as you have done."
Polly then had a serious talk with him; for he was of course anxious to know whether she wished her marriage postponed. But she told him what I had said against any alteration being made in the time; and so to his great pleasure it was settled that things should remain as previously arranged. When Charley had gone, Polly came up to me to tell me how warmly and sincerely he had expressed his pleasure at the thought of my taking up my permanent residence with them.
I expressed my earnest satisfaction; for I would not for worlds have damped her pleasure by telling her what my own resolve was. Indeed, I was firmly convinced that had she known it, much as she loved Charley, Polly would have at once broken off her engagement with him; for I had quite made up my mind that I would not on any account live with her and her husband. It was not so much that I did not wish to inflict my dulness upon her, for I knew how kindly they would bear with me; but I felt quite unequal to join even in home society like theirs. I was certain that at any rate for a very, very long time I should be a sad, unsociable woman. I had lived so many years on hope, that now that hope was gone I seemed to have nothing more to live for. I knew that I should not for years be fit to join in society. I felt already old and strange; the light and youth seemed at once to have faded out of my life. I was resolved that I would return to Canterbury and take up my abode there. My heart seemed to yearn for the dear old town, with its tranquil, sleepy ways, and I felt that it would harmonize well with my changed life, and that I should be calmer, more resigned and tranquil, there than I could be anywhere else. And now my next thought was of Harry. Why should he not take a wife with him on his long journey?
I asked him this the first time that I had an opportunity of speaking to him alone. After much pressing he owned that when he first accepted the appointment he had thought of it; but that these Indian troubles had begun, and while I was so anxious and troubled he could not be thinking of marrying; but he said that he had spoken to Nelly Planter, and that she had agreed to wait three years until he came back to fetch her. But I cried—
"No, no, Harry; take her with you. No more waiting. Oh, think of my ruined life, Harry, and don't ask her to wait! Go at once, Harry! go at once, and persuade her to go with you. There are three months yet."