Ten days had passed; and the two pair of lovers had made considerable progress. Amy, it is true, had not declared herself to Vivian, who, being a bashful young man, had, perhaps, not pressed her sufficiently; but Lucy and Robert understood one another completely, and were secretly engaged to get married at the earliest opportunity. Vivian’s bashfulness could not, however, endure for an unlimited time. One morning, he and Amy found themselves together on the rocks behind the town, and the opportunity being favourable, he screwed up his courage, told her that he had never loved any one but her; and obtained a coyly given promise that she would be his.
Natures like Amy’s, when they once take fire, often burn rapidly. On Monday, she became engaged to Vivian Jellicoe; on Tuesday, Vivian begged her to name a day for the wedding, and she refused; and on Wednesday, Vivian, knowing the peculiar sentiments of Miss Martha Marrable, and doubtful also, perhaps, whether his father would not throw impediments in the way of his early marriage, proposed an elopement; and Amy, with some hesitation, consented.
When she returned from her secret meeting with her lover, she of course confided her plan to her cousin. ‘How foolish you are,’ said Lucy; ‘you know that your father would not have you do that for the world; and you will make an enemy of Aunt Martha, who is like a mother to us girls.’
‘But she would never agree to our marrying, if we consulted her,’ objected Amy; ‘and if she knew anything of our plans, I am sure that she would manage to frustrate them. She is a dear old thing, but—— Well, she is peculiar on those points.’
‘I have told you what I think,’ said Lucy, with an assumption of wisdom that was perhaps warranted by her superior age. ‘Don’t be foolish.’
But Amy was already beyond the influence of counsel. She persisted in her intention, and even claimed Lucy’s sympathy and assistance, which, of course, Lucy could not ultimately withhold.
Ere an elopement can be successfully carried out, in the face especially of the jealous watchfulness of a man-hating spinster lady of middle age, numerous preparations have to be made; and, in the case of Vivian and Amy, the making of these preparations involved correspondence. Amy, therefore, bribed one of her aunt’s maids to act as a go-between; and the maid in question, with a fidelity that is rare, and at the same time a treachery that, I fear, is common in her kind, promptly carried Vivian’s first letter to her mistress.
Miss Martha Marrable without scruple tore open the envelope and angrily perused its contents. ‘My own Amy,’ ran the audacious communication—‘Let us settle, then, to go on Wednesday. At nine o’clock in the evening, a carriage-and-pair shall be ready to take us to Harlech, where you can stay for the night with the Joneses, who are old friends of ours; and on Thursday by mid-day we shall be married, and, I trust, never afterwards parted again. We can arrange the details between this and then. But write, and tell me that you agree.—Your ever devoted
Vivian.’