My father and his brother had not been on the best of terms for many years; but that had not prevented them from arranging that their children should wed—an arrangement in which I had never been consulted or, so far as I knew, the lady either. To add to the uncertainty of the whole affair, I had never seen her; I did not even know whether she were ugly or beautiful, short or tall. I might be going to assume a bondage of roses or of steel.
However, I was determined that if the damsel did not please me, or I her, there should be no marriage. I had no taste for martyrdom, and had too delicate a stomach to take a wife without love.
I forget the name of the village at which this halt was made, but I remember that the sign of the inn was the "George and Dragon." The place had a long white front, with green shutters to the windows, and over the door a great lamp hung from stanchions let into the wall. I judged that trade was slack, for as I descended from my carriage I saw the landlord standing at the door, smoking a pipe, and winking in the sunlight like a sleepy dog.
I told him to have fresh horses ready in an hour, and to attend to my servants' appetites, and also bade him send me a meal as quickly as he could; I intended to end my journey before sunset, and sleep that night in my uncle's house. He took my orders placidly (I never saw a host who was less awake), and conducted me to the parlour. It was empty, and I sat down by an open window to look out upon the village street. It was very warm and still, a day of perfect early summer weather, and before long, as though the mere air of the place inclined to rest, I began to nod in my chair.
And with this nodding came a pleasant dream, and, of course, it was about her whom I was on my way to meet. It seemed that I saw her standing in a sunny orchard, with ripening apples over her head, and her face and dress were flecked with the moving shadows of leaves. The grass was high about her feet, reaching, indeed, almost to her knees; her brown hair floated free about her shoulders; and there was such a sweet smile on her lips, and so inviting a glance in her eyes, that I made forward as though to clasp her.
"Nay, Cousin Nigel," she said; "wait, Cousin Nigel," and stepped back. All my thought at once became how to win this fair creature of the orchard; but with that I awoke, and found myself in the parlour of the "George and Dragon," and there was a maid setting out my meal.
As I turned to the table there was a great noise of wheels and shouting, and I stood up to see what sort of traveller came with such a tumult of arrival. A chaise drew up before the door, the horses all of a foam, and the postillions smeared with dust. One of the men jumped down and had the door open before the landlord was awake. A very elegantly-dressed man stepped out and handed forth a lady after him; she took his hand timidly, without looking into his face, and I saw that she would have freed it again long before he had a mind to let it go.
She held her head so low that I could not get a clear sight of her face at that moment, but her figure (and I already held myself to be a judge in such matters) was so graceful and slim, and, as it were, with such a force of youth in it, that I felt myself happy only to have looked upon it. "Come, come," said I to myself, "remember Cousin Audrey and the errand you are on"; but the difficulty was that I had nothing of Cousin Audrey to remember except her name. I did not like the look of the girl's companion, and I liked it less when I saw him at close quarters, later on.
I sat down to the table while my gentleman was giving his orders, which he did with small courtesy and great noise, and had already made good way with an excellent cold capon before the new guests were ushered into the room. The man hesitated for a moment when he saw that the place was already occupied, but after looking me up and down in a manner that made the blood tingle in my cheeks, and, I suppose concluding that I was harmless, he came in without more ado and drew the girl after him. She had been crying; the tears even then were wet upon her lashes, and her breast shook with half-spent sobs.
She threw me a timid, wistful glance, and then dropped her eyes; if she had gone down on her knees and begged for my consideration it could not have made me more her servant than that glance. She was most tenderly pretty, and the more I stole furtive looks at her the more pleased I was with the message my eyes carried to my heart. As to her age, it could not have been beyond eighteen, so that I felt old by comparison, and I was infinitely touched by the redness of her eyes and cheeks where she had rubbed them with the tiny handkerchief still tight-clasped in her hand. I was sure she would have spoken to me had she dared, and I was resolved that, at any rate, we should not part unacquainted.