Looking back upon that ugly hour, I wonder why, under the circumstances, I should have been so wounded, but I remember that a sense of discomfort amounting to shame came upon me at sight of the sorry bargaining. It seemed to have so little to do with the spiritual union of souls, which I had been taught to think marriage should be. But I had no time to think more about that before my father, who had signed the documents himself in his large, heavy hand, was saying.
"Now, gel, come along, we're waiting for your signature."
I cannot remember that I read anything. I cannot remember that anything was read to me. I was told where to sign, and I signed, thinking what must be must be, and that was all I had to do with the matter.
I was feeling a little sick, nevertheless, and standing by the tire with one foot on the fender, when Lord Raa came up to me at the end, and said in his drawling voice:
"So it's done."
"Yes, it's done," I answered.
After a moment he talked of where we were to live, saying we must of course pass most of our time in London.
"But have you any choice about the honeymoon," he said, "where we should spend it, I mean?"
I answered that he would know best, but when he insisted on my choosing, saying it was my right to do so, I remembered that during my time in the Convent the one country in the world I had most desired to see was the Holy Land.
Never as long as I live shall I forget the look in his lordship's grey eyes when I gave this as my selection.