Amusement Only

by Richard Marsh

I did not mean to kiss her; it was a pure accident. Her face was close to mine, or my face was close to hers, and then her lips came into contact with my lips, or my lips came into contact with her lips--I don't know which it was--and then at that moment her mother came into the room, and she said, "Mr. Whiting, may I ask what is the meaning of this?" I said it meant nothing--nothing! Absolutely nothing! Only I found it difficult to explain, and when I did explain she would not understand. Her manner was not at all the sort of thing I care for. The result is that I am engaged to Mary Ann Snelling without being conscious of having entertained any intention of the kind.

Not that I have a word to say against Mary Ann, except that I never knew a girl with quite so many relations. To begin with she had six brothers and five sisters, and she is the eldest of the batch, and there's not one of the brothers whom I feel drawn to. Her father is a most remarkable person, to say the least.

After they had arranged between them that I was engaged to Mary Ann (I was really not allowed to have a voice in the matter) her father remarked, with a pointed air, which I cannot but think, under the circumstances, was unusual, that he thought it was about time that I did come to the scratch, and that if I had kept on dilly-dallying much longer he would have had a word to say to me of a kind. I do not know what he meant, and would rather not attempt to imagine. But it is quite plain to me that all the arrangements for my wedding are going to be made by the Snellings.

I do not know when it is going to be, but it will be either next week or the week after, certainly at the earliest possible moment, and I shouldn't be at all surprised to learn that all Mary Ann's "things" had been already bought, and perhaps some of them marked.

We are to live in a house which belongs to a cousin of Mr. Snelling; it is to be furnished by a brother of Mrs. Snelling, the house linen is to be supplied by the father of the young man to whom Jane Matilda is engaged, and the ironmongery by the uncle to whom George Frederic is apprenticed. All, apparently, that is left for me to do, is to pay for everything. It is most delightful. It might just as well be some one else's wedding, so unimportant is the part which I am set to play in it.

And it is all the result of an accident. I deny that for the last six months I have been using Mr. Snelling's home as if it were a boarding-house. Nothing of the kind. The mere suggestion is absurd. It is true that I have dropped in to dinner now and then, or to spend the evening, or for an afternoon call, or for an hour or two in the morning; but that has been simply and solely because the Snelling family have evinced so marked a desire for my society. The alteration which has taken place in their demeanour since my accident with Mary Ann is, therefore, all the more amazing. For instance, look at their behaviour in the matter of the ring.

The accident in question occurred upon the Sunday evening. I had been with Mary Ann to church, and had seen her home, and had had a little supper, and it was after supper that it happened. I did not go and purchase the engagement ring the first thing on the Monday morning, I own it. Certainly not. Nor did I take any steps in that direction during the whole of that week. I was not pressed for time.

Besides, I was turning things over in my mind. But that was no reason why, the Monday week following, four of her brothers should have called on me on their way to the office, when I was scarcely out of bed, and actually breakfasting, and assailed me in the way in which they did.

There was William Henry, John Frank, Ferdinand Augustus, and Stephen Arthur. Each of them twice my size and all of them frightfully ignorant and wholly regardless of the sensitive little points of those with whom they came in contact. There is no circumlocution about them. They go straight at what they want; and were scarcely inside my door before they blurted out the purport of their coming. It was Frederick Augustus; if the thing is possible he is, if anything, more direct even than the rest of his family.

"Look here, Whiting, how about Mary Ann's ring? The girl is fretting, but you don't seem to notice it. And as you don't appear to know what is the proper thing to do in a case of this kind, and don't understand that the ring ought to be bought straight away, we've bought it for you."