This settled the point with Alice. She would rather Marian should marry Frederic than go away and die, and so she said, “I’d have him, I reckon,” adding quickly, “You’ll carry the keys, then, won’t you, and give me all the preserves and cake I want?”
Thus was the affair amicably adjusted between the two, and when at the breakfast table she met with Frederic, she was ready to answer his question; but she chose to let him broach the subject, and this he did do that evening when he found her alone in his father’s room. He had decided that it was useless to struggle with his fate, and he resolved to make the best of it. How far Redstone Hall, bank notes, stock and real estate influenced this decision we cannot say, but he was sincere in his intention of treating Marian well, and when he found her by accident in his father’s room, he said to her kindly, “Can you answer me now?”
Marian was not yet enough accustomed to the world to conceal whatever she felt, and with the light of a new happiness shining on her childish face, she went up to him, and laying her hand confidingly upon his, she said, “I will marry you, Frederic, if you wish me to.”
A strange enigma is human nature. When the previous night she had hesitated to answer, Frederic was conscious of a vague fear that she might say no—and now that she had said yes, he felt less pleasure than pain, for the die he knew was cast. A more observing eye than Marian’s would have seen the dark shadow which flitted over his face, and the sudden paling of his lips, but she did not; she only saw how he shook off her hand without even so much as touching it, and all the novels she had ever read would surely have sanctioned so modest a proceeding as that! But novels, she reflected, were not true, and as she was an actor in real life, she must accept whatever that life might bring. Still she was not quite satisfied, and when Frederic, fancying he should feel better if the matter were well over, said to her, “There is no reason why we should delay—my father would wish the marriage to take place immediately, and I will speak to Dinah at once,” she felt that with him it was a mere form, and bursting into tears she said passionately, “You are not obliged to marry me. I certainly did not ask you to.”
For a moment Frederic stood irresolute, and then he replied, “Don’t be foolish, Marian, but take a common sense view of the matter. I am not accustomed to love-making, and the character would not suit me now when my heart is so full of sorrow for my father. Many a one would gladly take your place, but”—here he paused, uncertain how to proceed and still keep truth upon his side—then, as a bright thought struck him, he added, “but I prefer you to all the girls in Kentucky. Be satisfied with this, and wait patiently for the time when I can show you that I love you.”
His manner both frightened and fascinated Marian, and she answered through her tears, “I will be satisfied, and wait.”
Frederic knew well that Marian was too much of a child to manage the affair, and after his interview with her, he sought out Dinah, to whom he announced his intentions.
“There is no need of delay,” he said, “and two weeks from to-day is the time appointed. There will be no show—no parade—simply a quiet wedding in the presence of a few friends, who will dine with us, of course. The dinner, you must see to, and I will attend to the rest.”
Amid ejaculations of surprise and delight, old Dinah heard what he had to say—and then, boiling over with the news, hastened to the kitchen, where she was soon surrounded by an astonished and listening audience, the various members of which were affected differently, just according to their different ideas of what “marster Frederic’s” wife ought to be. Among the negroes at Redstone Hall were two distinct parties, one of which having belonged to Mr. Higgins, the former owner of the place, looked rather contemptuously upon the other clique, who had been purchased of Mr. Smithers, a neighboring planter, and were not supposed to have as high blood in their veins as was claimed by their darker rivals. Hence between the democratic Smitherses and the aristocratic Higginses was waged many a fierce battle, which was usually decided by old Dinah, who, having belonged to another family still, “thanked the Lord that she was neither a Higginses nor a Smitherses, but was a peg or so above such low-lived truck as them.”
On this occasion the announcement of Master Frederic’s expected marriage was received by the Smitherses with loud shouts of joy and hurrahs for Miss Marian. The Higginses, on the contrary, though friendly to Marian, declared she was not high bred enough to keep up the glory of the house, and Aunt Hetty, who led the clan and was a kind of rival to old Dinah, launched forth into a wonderful stream of eloquence.