by Bram Stoker
“That is not fair, Colonel Ogilvie. She is a woman — if she is your daughter, and is not to be treated brutally. You must not strike at a man through a woman. If you want to strike a man do so direct! I am the man. Strike me, how and when you will; but this woman is my wife — at least she is until she repudiates our marriage! But till then by God! no man — not even her father himself — shall strike her or at her, or through her!” Both he and Joy were surprised at the meek way in which the old man received this tirade. But even whilst he had been uttering the cruel threat both his conscience and his courage had been against him. This, the man and the woman who heard could, from evidence, divine. But there was another cause of which they had no knowledge. The moment after speaking, when his blind passion began to cool, the last words of his wife came back to his memory: “Be good to her, and never forget that she can suffer most through any one dear to her.” Furthermore, the recollection of Judy’s words as he was leaving clinched the matter “You hold poor Joy’s life — which is her heart — in your hand!” He began his reply to Athlyne truculently — as was usual to him; but melted quickly as he went on:
“Hey-day my young bantam-cock; you flash your spurs boldly... But I don’t know but you’re right. I was wrong; I admit it! Joy my dear I apologise for it; and to you too, sir, who stand up so valiantly and so readily for your wife. I am glad my little girl has such a defender, though it is and will be a sad thought to me that I was myself the first to cause its evidence. But keep your hair on, young man! Men sometimes get hurt by running up against something that’s quite in its right place... It’s my place to look after my little girl — till such time as you have registered your bond-rights. And see, doesn’t she declare she had no idea she was being married. However, it’s all right in this case. I don’t mean her to give herself away over this part of the job any more than you did a while ago when you stopped her telling me something that it wouldn’t have been wise to say. So, sir, guess we’ll call it quits this time. Well, little girl, let me tell you that you’ve said all at once to me two different things. You said you didn’t intend to marry Lord Athlyne that time, but that you did at some other. If that last doesn’t make an intention to marry I’m a Dutchman. I think we’d better let it rest at that! Now as to you Lord Athlyne! You seem to want — and rightly enough I’ll allow — that I make a formal retraction of my demand for your life. Well I do so now. There’s my hand! I can give it to you freely, for you are a brave man and you love my little girl; and my little girl loves you. I’m right sorry I didn’t know you at the first as I do now. But I suppose the fact is, I was jealous all along. You don’t know — yet — what I know: that you were thrown at me in a lot of ways before I ever saw you, by the joke that my little girl and Judy put up on me. When I knew that my girl was calling herself by your name...”
“Daddy dear!” This was Joy’s protest. “Yes, little girl, I won’t give you away; but your husband should know this fact lest he keep a grudge in his heart against your old daddy — and I know you wouldn’t like that. You can tell him, some of these days or nights, what you like yourself about the whole thing from the first. I dare say he’ll want to know, and won’t let you alone till you tell him. And I dare say not then; for he’ll like — he’s bound to — all you can say. Here, Athlyne — I suppose that’s what I am to call you since you’re my son now — at any rate my daughter’s husband.” As he spoke he held out his hand. Athlyne jumped forward and seized it warmly. The two men shook hands as do two strong men who respect each other. Joy stepped forward and took the clasped hands between her own. When the hands parted she kissed her husband and then her father; she had accepted the situation.
After a pause Athlyne said, quietly but with a very resolute look on his face: “I understand, sir, that the hatchet is now buried. But I want to say that this must be final. I do so lest you should ever from any cause wish to dig it up again. Oh, yes I understand” — for the Colonel was going to speak “but I have had a warning. Just now when it seemed that Joy was going to repudiate — though happily as it turned out for only a time — our marriage as an existing fact, you reopened that matter which I had then thought closed. Now as for the future Joy’s happiness is my duty as well as my privilege and my pleasure, I must take all precautions which I can to insure it. It would not do if she could ever have in her mind a haunting fear that you and I could quarrel. I know that for my own part I would be no party to a quarrel with you. But I also have reason to know that a man’s own purpose is nothing when some one else wants to quarrel with him. Therefore for our dear Joy’s sake — ”
“Good!” murmured the Colonel. “Our dear Joy’s sake!” Athlyne repeated the phrase — he loved to do so:
“For our dear Joy’s sake will you not promise that you will never quarrel with me.”
“Indeed I will give the promise — and more. Listen here, little girl, for it is for your sake. I find I have been wrong to quarrel so readily and without waiting to understand. If a nigger did it I think I’d understand, for I don’t look for much from him. But I do expect much from myself; and therefore I’ll go back a bit and go a bit farther. Hear me promise, so help me God, I’ll never quarrel again! Quarrel to kill I mean of course. Now, sir, are you satisfied!” Joy flung herself into his arms cooing lovingly:
“Dear, dear Daddy. Oh thank you so much; you have made me so happy! That promise is the best wedding-gift you could possibly give me!” Athlyne took the hand extended to him and wrung it heartily:
“And I too, thank you, sir. And, as I want to share in all Joy’s happiness and in her pleasant ways, I hope you will let me — as her husband — call you Daddy too?”
“Indeed you may, my boy; I’ll be right glad!”
It was a happy trio that stood there, the two men’s right hands clasping, and Joy once more holding the linked hands between hers.
“We may go join the Sheriff and Judy I think, little girl!” said the Colonel presently. He felt that he wanted to get back to himself from the unaccustomed atmosphere of sentiment which encompassed him.
“Just one moment — Daddy!” said Athlyne speaking the familiar name with an effort and looking at Joy as he did so. The approval shining from her beautiful eyes encouraged him, and he went on more freely:
“Now that our dear Joy is my care I should like to make a proposition. The Sheriffs suggestion is good, and his reading of the law seems as if it were all right; but, after all, there is no accounting for what judges and juries may decide. Now I want — and we all want — that there be no doubt about this marriage — now or hereafter. And I therefore suggest that presently Joy and I shall again exchange Matrimonial Intention and Consent, or whatever is the strongest way that can be devised to insure a flawless marriage. We can even write this down and both sign it, and you and the Sheriff and Judy shall witness. So that whatever has been before — though this will not disturb it — will be made all taut and secure!” Joy’s comment was:
“And I shall be married to my husband a second time!” “Yes, darling” said Athlyne putting his arm round her and drawing her close to him. She came willingly and put her arms round him. They embraced and kissed each other and he said:
“Yes darling; but wait a moment, I have a further suggestion. In addition to this we can have a ‘regular’ marriage to follow these two irregular ones. I shall go to London and get a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury, who is a connection of my own. With this we shall have a religious marriage to supplement the civil ones. We can be married, sir, in your own rooms, or in a church, just as Joy wishes — and, of course, as her mother and her Daddy wish. We can be married the third time, Joy darling, in Westminster Abbey if you so desire!”
“Anywhere you choose — darling!” she spoke the last word shyly “will be what I wish. I am glad I am to be married three times to you.”
“Why darling?”
“Because darling” she spoke the word now without shyness or hesitation. “I love you enough for three husba
nds; and now we must have three honeymoons!” she danced about the room gaily, clapping her hands like a happy child.
When they were ready to go to breakfast Colonel Ogilvie instinctively offered his arm to Joy, but catching sight of Athlyne drew back and motioned to him to take the honourable place. The husband was pleased, but seeing a new opening for conciliation he said heartily:
“No, no. I hope the time will never come when my wife won’t love to go with her father!” The old man was pleased and called to his daughter “Come, little girl, you have got to take us both!” She took her husband’s arm as well as her father’s; and all three moved towards the door. When they got there, however, some change was necessary, for it was not possible to pass through three abreast Each of the men was willing to give place to the other; but before either man could move, or indeed before either had his mind made up what to do, the quicker-witted woman slipped back behind them. There taking Athlyne’s hand in hers she had placed it on her father’s arm. As they both were about to protest against going in front of her she said hastily:
“Please, please Daddy and... Husband I would really rather you two went first, and arm in arm as father and son should go. For that is what it is to be from this on; isn’t it? I would rather a thousand times see the two men I love best in all the world going so, than walk in front of them as a Queen.”
“That’s very prettily said!” was the comment of her father. Then with a fond look back at her he took the young man’s hand from his own arm and placed his own hand on the other’s arm. “That’s better!” he said. “Age leaning on Youth, and Beauty smiling on both!”
And in this wise they entered the Sheriffs room, in time to see him sitting at one end of the sofa and Judy sitting at the furthest corner away from him — blushing.
CHAPTER 23
A HARMONY IN GRAY
As the trio entered the room Judy jumped from the sofa vivaciously. The Sheriff followed with an agility wonderful in a man of his age; he bade them all welcome with a compelling heartiness. Judy was full of animation; indeed she out-did herself to a degree which made Joy raise her eyebrows. Joy was a sympathetic soul, and unconsciously adapted herself to her Aunt’s supra-vivacity.
To Colonel Ogilvie, less enthusiastic by nature and concern, it appeared that she was as he put it in his own mind “playing up to the old girl.” He seemed to realise that the Sheriff was ardent in his intentions; and, with the calm, business-like aptitude of a brother-in-law to a not-young lady, had already made up his mind to give his consent.
Judy flew to Joy and kissed her fervently. The kisses were returned with equal warmth, and the two women rocked in each other’s arms, to the envy, if delight, of certain of the onlookers viewing the circumstance from different standpoints. Judy took her niece to the now-vacated sofa, and an animated whispering began between them. Joy’s attention was, however, distracted; her senses had different objectives. Her touch was to Judy sitting beside her and holding her close in a loving embrace; her ears were to her father who was talking to the Sheriff. But her eyes were all with her husband, devouring him. There came a timid knock at the door, and in answer to the Sheriffs “Come in,” it was partly opened. The voice of the landlady was heard: “May I speak with ye a moment, Sheriff?” He went over to the door, and a whispered colloquy ensued, all his guests turning their eyes away and endeavouring in that way, as usual, to seem not to be listening. Then the Sheriff, having closed the door, said:
“Our good hostess tells me that there will be a full half hour of waiting before we can breakfast, if she is to have proper time to do justice to the food which she wishes to place before us. So I must ask pardon of you all.”
“Capital! Capital!” said Colonel Ogilvie, “that half hour is just what we want. Mr. Sheriff, we have a little ceremony to go through before we breakfast. The fact is we are going to have an Irregular Marriage. If you are able to take part in such a thing I hope you will assist us.” Joy rose up and stood beside Athlyne. The Sheriff answered:
“Be quite easy on that point, sir. I am not in my own shrieval district, and so, even if such were contra to my duties at home, I am free to act as an individual elsewhere. But who are the contracting parties? You are married already; so too are your daughter and my Lord Athlyne. Indeed it looks, Miss Hayes, as if you and I are the only available parties left. But I fear such great happiness is not for me; though I would give anything in the wide world to win it!” He bowed to her gallantly and took her hand. She looked quite embarrassed — though not distressed, and giggled like a schoolgirl.
“Indeed, Mr. Sheriff!” she said, “this is very sudden. Affairs of the heart seem to move quickly in this delightful country!” As she spoke she looked at Joy and Athlyne who happened to be at the moment standing hand in hand. Joy came over and sat beside her and kissed her. Athlyne, in obedience to a look from his wife, kissed her too. Then the Colonel gallantly followed suit. There was only the Sheriff left, and he, after a pause, took advantage of the occasion and kissed her also. Then to relieve her manifest embarrassment he spoke out:
“I fear I have diverted your purpose, Colonel Ogilvie. I am not sorry for it” — this with a look at Judy which made her blush afresh “but I apologize. I take it that you were alluding to something in which I am to have a less prominent part than I have suggested.”
“The marriage, sir, is to be between Lord Athlyne and my daughter.” As he spoke Athlyne went to a side table whereon were spread the Sheriffs writing materials. He took a sheet of paper and began to write. Colonel Ogilvie went on:
“We have come to the conclusion that, though the act of marriage which has already taken place between these two young people is in your view lawful and complete, it may be well to go through the ceremony in a more formal manner. There are, we all know, intricacies and pitfalls in law; and we are both agreed with the suggestion of my lord that it would be well not to allow any loophole for after attack. Therefore in your presence — if you will be so good,” the Sheriff bowed, “they shall again pledge their mutual Matrimonial Consent. They will both sign the paper to that effect which I see Lord Athlyne is preparing; and we shall all sign it as witnesses. Then, when this new marriage is complete — and irrefragable as I understand from what you said awhile ago it will be — we shall be ready for breakfast. It will be more than perhaps you expected when you so kindly asked us to be your guests: a wedding breakfast!”
Judy whispered to her niece.
“Joy, you must come to your room and let me dress you properly. I have brought a dress with me.”
“What dress dear?” she asked.
“The tweed tailor-made.”
“But, Judy dear, I have on a white frock, and that is more suitable for my wedding.”
“That was all right yesterday, dear. But to-day you shall not wear white. You are already a married lady, this is only a re-marriage.” A beautiful blush swept over Joy’s face as she looked at her husband writing away as hard as his pen could move.
“I shall wear white to-day!” she said in the same whisper, and stood up.
Just at that moment a fly drove quickly past the window. It stopped at the hotel door, and there was a sudden bustle of arrival. Voices raised to a high pitch were heard outside. Various comments were heard in the room.
“That’s mother!”
“My wife!”
“Sally!”
“Why Aunt Judy that’s the voice of Mrs. O’Brien.”‘
“My Foster-mother!”
The door opened, and in swept Mrs. Ogilvie who flew first to her husband’s arms; and then, after a quick embrace, seemed to close round Joy and obliterate her. A similar eclipse took place with regard to Athlyne; for Mrs. O’Brien dashed into the room and calling out as though invoking the powers of earth and heaven: “Me bhov! me bhov!” fell upon him. He seemed really glad to see her, and yielded himself to her embrace as freely as though he had been a child again.
“Joy dear,” said Mrs. Ogilvie “I hope you are all right. A
fter your father and then Judy had gone, I was so anxious about you, that I got the north mail stopped and caught it at Penrith. Just as I was going to get ready for the journey Mrs. O’Brien came in. She had written to me in London that she would like to pay her respects, and I had said we were going on to Ambleside but would be glad if she would come and see us there and spend a few days with us.” Mrs. O’Brien who was all ears, here cut into the conversation:
“Aye, an Miss Joy acushla, — my service to ye miss! — she sent me postal ordhers to cover me railway fare an me expinces. Oh! the kind heart iy her!”
She had by now released Athlyne and stood back from him pointing at him as she spoke:
“An comin’ here through yer ladyship’s goodness who do I find but me beautiful bhoy. Luk at him! Luk at him! Luk at him!” Her voice rose in crescendo at each repetition. “The finest, dearest, sweetest, bonniest child that ever a woman tuk to her breast. An now luk at him well. The finest, upstandinest, handsomest, dearest, lovinest man that the whole wurrld houlds. That doesn’t forget his ould fosther mother an him an Earrll, wid casdes iy his own, an medals on to him an Victory Crasses. An it’s a gineral he ought to be. Luk at him, God bless him!” She turned to one after another of the party in turn as though inviting their admiration. Joy came and, putting her arms round the old woman’s neck, hugged and kissed her. When she got free, Mrs. O’Brien said to Athlyne:
“An phwat are ye doin’ here me darlin’ acushla me lord — ay I may make so bould as t’ ask ye? How did ye come here; and phwat brung ye that yer ould nurse might have her eyes made glad wid sight iy ye?”
“I am here, my dear, because I am married to Joy Ogilvie, and we are going to be married again!”
