He
had won her; her own sentiments upon the subject of this marriage were of
very little consequence. He had never expected to be loved by his wife,
his own ideas of that passion called love being of the vaguest; but he
meant to be obeyed by her. She had begun well, had taken her new duties
upon herself in a manner that gladdened his sordid soul; and although
they had been married nearly a fortnight, she had given no hint of a
desire to know the extent of his wealth, or where he kept any little
hoard of ready money that he might have by him in the house. Nor on
market-day had she expressed any wish to go with him to Malsham to spend
money on drapery; and he had an idea, sedulously cultivated by Mrs.
Tadman, that young women were perpetually wanting to spend money at
drapers' shops. Altogether, that first fortnight of his married life had
been most satisfactory, and Mr. Whitelaw was inclined to regard matrimony
as a wise and profitable institution.
The day's work was done, and Ellen was sitting with Mrs. Tadman in the
every-day parlour, waiting for the return of her lord and master from
Malsham. It was not a market-day, but Stephen Whitelaw had announced at
dinner-time that he had an appointment at Malsham, and had set out
immediately after dinner in the chaise-cart, much to the wonderment of
Mrs.
Pages:
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553