A Seaside Wooing by Lucy Maud Montgomery. Part 5
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July Twenty-fourth
On Monday afternoon I left the cottage secretly and went down to the beach. Aunt Martha and Mrs Saxby were having their usual afternoon sleep and I was supposed to be reading my book about the church in my room.
Mr Shelmardine was standing by the old fishing boat, but he came quickly across the sand to meet me.
“This is very kind of you,’ he said.
‘I should not be here,’ I said. ‘But it is so lonely there – and I can’t read books about the church all the time.’
Mr Shelmardine laughed. ‘Mr and Mrs Allardyce are on the other side of the boat. Will you come and meet them?’ How nice of him to bring them! I knew I would like Mrs Allardyce, just because Aunt Martha didn’t. We had a lovely walk. I never thought of the time until Mr Shelmardine said it was four o’clock.
‘Oh, is it as late as that?” I cried. ‘I must go at once.’ I’m sorry we have kept you so long,’ said Mr Shelmardine in a worried voice. ‘What will happen, if your aunt is awake?’
‘It’s too terrible to think about,’ I said seriously. I’m sorry, Mr Shelmardine, but you mustn’t come with me.
‘We will be here tomorrow afternoon,’ he said.
‘Mr Shelmardine!’ I said. ‘You shouldn’t put these ideas into my head. They won’t come out – not even if I read six books about the church from beginning to end.’
We looked at each other for a second. Then he began to smile, and we both started laughing.
‘Let me know if your aunt is angry with you,’ he called after me as I ran away up the path.
But Aunt Martha was not awake – and I have been to the beach three afternoons since then. I was there today, and I’m going tomorrow for a boat trip with Mr Shelmardine and the Allardyces. But I’m afraid he will do something foolish soon.
Today he said: ‘I don’t think I can do this any longer.’
‘Do what?’ I asked.
‘You know very well,’ he answered. ‘Meeting you in this secretive way, and making you worried and miserable about your aunt. I don’t want it to be like this. It’s only because your aunt is so unreasonable that I meet you like this.’
I’m sorry,’ I whispered.
‘No, you mustn’t be sorry,’ he said seriously. ‘But I think I must go honestly to your aunt and tell her everything.’
‘You’ll never see me again if you do that, I said quickly – and then wished I hadn’t said it.
“That is the most frightening thing you could say,’ he said.
July Twenty-fifth
It is all over, and I am the most miserable girl in the world.
Aunt Martha has discovered everything, and it is right that I am punished for my wrong-doing.
I left secretly again this afternoon and went for that boat trip. We had a lovely time but we were very late getting in, and I hurried home very nervously. Aunt Martha met me at the door.
My dress was dirty from the boat, my hat was not straight, and my hair was wild and all over the place. I did not look at all like a good, careful, quiet girl, and I’m sure my face looked very ashamed. Aunt gave me a long, hard look and then followed me silently up to my room.
‘Marguerite, what does this mean?’
I am not a good person, but I have never told lies. I told Aunt everything – well, almost everything. I didn’t tell her about the spyglasses and the deaf-mute alphabet. She didn’t ask me how I first met Mr Shelmardine. She just listened in stony, angry silence. I thought she would be furious with me, but it seemed that she couldn’t even speak to me. I was too bad for words.
When I had finished, she stood up, gave me one furious stare, and left the room. A few minutes later Mrs Saxby came in, looking worried.
‘My dear child, what have you been doing? Your aunt says that we are going home on the afternoon train tomorrow.
She is terribly unhappy about something.’
I just lay on my bed and cried, while Mrs Saxby packed my suitcase. I will have no chance to explain to Mr Shelmardine. And I will never see him again, because Aunt will probably take me away to Africa or somewhere. He will just think I am a foolish, empty-headed girl. Oh, I am so unhappy!
July Twenty-sixth
I am the happiest girl in the world! How things have changed since yesterday. We leave Fir Cottage in an hour, but that doesn’t matter any more.
I did not sleep for a second last night, and went miserably down to breakfast. Aunt did not speak to me or look at me, but to my surprise she told Mrs Saxby that she wanted to take a last walk on the beach. I knew they would take me too, to guard me from danger, and my heart was suddenly full of hope. Aunt knew nothing about the messages sent and received by spyglass.
I quietly followed my two guards to the beach and sat miserably on the sand while they went for their walk. Francis was on the rocks. When Aunt Martha and Mrs Saxby were at a safe distance, I began my message:
‘All discovered. Aunt is very angry. We go home today.’ Then I quickly looked through my spyglass. His face showed real unhappiness. He replied:
‘I must see you before you go?
‘Impossible. Aunt will never forgive me. Goodbye.’ I saw his face change. He had decided something very important, I could see. Nothing, nothing could make me put down my spyglass now – not even forty Aunt Marthas standing right behind me.
‘I love you. You know it. Do you care for me? I must have my answer now.’
What a thing to happen! No time or chance to pretend to be shy or nervous or ask for time or anything like that.
Aunt and Mrs Saxby had almost reached the place where they turned and walked back. I had just time to spell out my answer – ‘Yes’ – and read his answer.
‘I shall go home at once, get Mother and Connie, follow you, and ask for my future wife. I shall win the battle. Have no fear. Until then, goodbye, my sweet love?
‘Marguerite,’ said Mrs Saxby close to me. ‘It is time to go.’ I got up obediently. Aunt Martha was as stony-faced as ever, and Mrs Saxby looked like a rainy day, but do you think I cared? I slowed down and walked behind them just once before we left the beach. I knew he was watching me, and I waved my hand.
I suppose I am really engaged to Mr Shelmardine. But was there ever a stranger wooing? And what will Aunt Martha say?
THE END
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