DarqueDante/test2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 74
the end of time and pledged myself not to marry anyone else while he
lived. 'Why shouldn't we be married right away, then,' said he, 'and
then I will feel sure of you; and I won't claim to be your husband
until I come back?' Well, we talked it over, and he had fixed it all
up so nicely, with a clergyman all ready in waiting, that we just did
it right there; and then Frank went off to seek his fortune, and I
went back to pa.

"The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and then he
went prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from New Mexico.
After that came a long newspaper story about how a miners' camp had
been attacked by Apache Indians, and there was my Frank's name among
the killed. I fainted dead away, and I was very sick for months
after. Pa thought I had a decline and took me to half the doctors in
'Frisco. Not a word of news came for a year and more, so that I never
doubted that Frank was really dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to
'Frisco, and we came to London, and a marriage was arranged, and pa
was very pleased, but I felt all the time that no man on this earth
would ever take the place in my heart that had been given to my poor
Frank.

"Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I'd have done my
duty by him. We can't command our love, but we can our actions. I
went to the altar with him with the intention to make him just as
good a wife as it was in me to be. But you may imagine what I felt
when, just as I came to the altar rails, I glanced back and saw Frank
standing and looking at me out of the first pew. I thought it was his
ghost at first; but when I looked again there he was still, with a
kind of question in his eyes, as if to ask me whether I were glad or
sorry to see him. I wonder I didn't drop. I know that everything was
turning round, and the words of the clergyman were just like the buzz
of a bee in my ear. I didn't know what to do. Should I stop the
service and make a scene in the church? I glanced at him again, and
he seemed to know what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to
his lips to tell me to be still. Then I saw him scribble on a piece
of paper, and I knew that he was writing me a note. As I passed his
pew on the way out I dropped my bouquet over to him, and he slipped
the note into my hand when he returned me the flowers. It was only a
line asking me to join him when he made the sign to me to do so. Of
course I never doubted for a moment that my first duty was now to
him, and I determined to do just whatever he might direct.

"When I got back I told my maid, who had known him in California, and
had always been his friend. I ordered her to say nothing, but to get
a few things packed and my ulster ready. I know I ought to have
spoken to Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard before his mother
and all those great people. I just made up my mind to run away and
explain afterwards. I hadn't been at the table ten minutes before I
saw Frank out of the window at the other side of the road. He
beckoned to me and then began walking into the Park. I slipped out,
put on my things, and followed him. Some woman came talking something
or other about Lord St. Simon to me--seemed to me from the little I
heard as if he had a little secret of his own before marriage
also--but I managed to get away from her and soon overtook Frank. We
got into a cab together, and away we drove to some lodgings he had
taken in Gordon Square, and that was my true wedding after all those
years of waiting. Frank had been a prisoner among the Apaches, had
escaped, came on to 'Frisco, found that I had given him up for dead
and had gone to England, followed me there, and had come upon me at
last on the very morning of my second wedding."

"I saw it in a paper," explained the American. "It gave the name and
the church but not where the lady lived."

"Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was all for
openness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if I should
like to vanish away and never see any of them again--just sending a
line to pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It was awful to me
to think of all those lords and ladies sitting round that
breakfast-table and waiting for me to come back. So Frank took my
wedding-clothes and things and made a bundle of them, so that I
should not be traced, and dropped them away somewhere where no one
could find them. It is likely that we should have gone on to Paris
to-morrow, only that this good gentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to
us this evening, though how he found us is more than I can think, and
he showed us very clearly and kindly that I was wrong and that Frank
was right, and that we should be putting ourselves in the wrong if we
were so secret. Then he offered to give us a chance of talking to
Lord St. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to his rooms at
once. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if I
have given you pain, and I hope that you do not think very meanly of
me."

Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but had
listened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this long
narrative.

"Excuse me," he said, "but it is not my custom to discuss my most
intimate personal affairs in this public manner."

"Then you won't forgive me? You won't shake hands before I go?"

"Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure." He put out his
hand and coldly grasped that which she extended to him.

"I had hoped," suggested Holmes, "that you would have joined us in a
friendly supper."

"I think that there you ask a little too much," responded his
Lordship. "I may be forced to acquiesce in these recent developments,

the end of time and pledged myself not to marry anyone else while he

lived. 'Why shouldn't we be married right away, then,' said he, 'and

then I will feel sure of you; and I won't claim to be your husband

until I come back?' Well, we talked it over, and he had fixed it all

up so nicely, with a clergyman all ready in waiting, that we just did

it right there; and then Frank went off to seek his fortune, and I

went back to pa.

"The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and then he

went prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from New Mexico.

After that came a long newspaper story about how a miners' camp had

been attacked by Apache Indians, and there was my Frank's name among

the killed. I fainted dead away, and I was very sick for months

after. Pa thought I had a decline and took me to half the doctors in

'Frisco. Not a word of news came for a year and more, so that I never

doubted that Frank was really dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to

'Frisco, and we came to London, and a marriage was arranged, and pa

was very pleased, but I felt all the time that no man on this earth

would ever take the place in my heart that had been given to my poor

Frank.

"Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I'd have done my

duty by him. We can't command our love, but we can our actions. I

went to the altar with him with the intention to make him just as

good a wife as it was in me to be. But you may imagine what I felt

when, just as I came to the altar rails, I glanced back and saw Frank

standing and looking at me out of the first pew. I thought it was his

ghost at first; but when I looked again there he was still, with a

kind of question in his eyes, as if to ask me whether I were glad or

sorry to see him. I wonder I didn't drop. I know that everything was

turning round, and the words of the clergyman were just like the buzz

of a bee in my ear. I didn't know what to do. Should I stop the

service and make a scene in the church? I glanced at him again, and

he seemed to know what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to

his lips to tell me to be still. Then I saw him scribble on a piece

of paper, and I knew that he was writing me a note. As I passed his

pew on the way out I dropped my bouquet over to him, and he slipped

the note into my hand when he returned me the flowers. It was only a

line asking me to join him when he made the sign to me to do so. Of

course I never doubted for a moment that my first duty was now to

him, and I determined to do just whatever he might direct.

"When I got back I told my maid, who had known him in California, and

had always been his friend. I ordered her to say nothing, but to get

a few things packed and my ulster ready. I know I ought to have

spoken to Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard before his mother

and all those great people. I just made up my mind to run away and

explain afterwards. I hadn't been at the table ten minutes before I

saw Frank out of the window at the other side of the road. He

beckoned to me and then began walking into the Park. I slipped out,

put on my things, and followed him. Some woman came talking something

or other about Lord St. Simon to me--seemed to me from the little I

heard as if he had a little secret of his own before marriage

also--but I managed to get away from her and soon overtook Frank. We

got into a cab together, and away we drove to some lodgings he had

taken in Gordon Square, and that was my true wedding after all those

years of waiting. Frank had been a prisoner among the Apaches, had

escaped, came on to 'Frisco, found that I had given him up for dead

and had gone to England, followed me there, and had come upon me at

last on the very morning of my second wedding."

"I saw it in a paper," explained the American. "It gave the name and

the church but not where the lady lived."

"Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was all for

openness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if I should

like to vanish away and never see any of them again--just sending a

line to pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It was awful to me

to think of all those lords and ladies sitting round that

breakfast-table and waiting for me to come back. So Frank took my

wedding-clothes and things and made a bundle of them, so that I

should not be traced, and dropped them away somewhere where no one

could find them. It is likely that we should have gone on to Paris

to-morrow, only that this good gentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to

us this evening, though how he found us is more than I can think, and

he showed us very clearly and kindly that I was wrong and that Frank

was right, and that we should be putting ourselves in the wrong if we

were so secret. Then he offered to give us a chance of talking to

Lord St. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to his rooms at

once. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if I

have given you pain, and I hope that you do not think very meanly of

me."

Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but had

listened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this long

narrative.

"Excuse me," he said, "but it is not my custom to discuss my most

intimate personal affairs in this public manner."

"Then you won't forgive me? You won't shake hands before I go?"

"Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure." He put out his

hand and coldly grasped that which she extended to him.

"I had hoped," suggested Holmes, "that you would have joined us in a

friendly supper."

"I think that there you ask a little too much," responded his

Lordship. "I may be forced to acquiesce in these recent developments,