The Law and the Lady | Page 4

maiden name.
"What!" cried my uncle, in his loudest and cheeriest tones, "you have
forgotten your own name already? Well, well! let us hope you will
never repent parting with it so readily. Try again, Valeria--try again."
With trembling fingers I struck the pen through my first effort, and
wrote my maiden name, very badly indeed, as follows:
Valeria Brinton
When it came to my husband's turn I noticed, with surprise, that his
hand trembled too, and that he produced a very poor specimen of his
customary signature:
Eustace Woodville
My aunt, on being requested to sign, complied under protest. "A bad
beginning!" she said, pointing to my first unfortunate signature with the
feather end of her pen. "I hope, my dear, you may not live to regret it."
Even then, in the days of my ignorance and my innocence, that curious
outbreak of my aunt's superstition produced a certain uneasy sensation
in my mind. It was a consolation to me to feel the reassuring pressure
of my husband's hand. It was an indescribable relief to hear my uncle's
hearty voice wishing me a happy life at parting. The good man had left
his north-country Vicarage (my home since the death of my parents)
expressly to read the service at my marriage; and he and my aunt had
arranged to return by the mid-day train. He folded me in his great
strong arms, and he gave me a kiss which must certainly have been
heard by the idlers waiting for the bride and bridegroom outside the
church door.
"I wish you health and happiness, my love, with all my heart. You are
old enough to choose for yourself, and--no offense, Mr. Woodville, you

and I are new friends--and I pray God, Valeria, it may turn out that you
have chosen well. Our house will be dreary enough without you; but I
don't complain, my dear. On the contrary, if this change in your life
makes you happier, I rejoice. Come, come! don't cry, or you will set
your aunt off--and it's no joke at her time of life. Besides, crying will
spoil your beauty. Dry your eyes and look in the glass there, and you
will see that I am right. Good-by, child--and God bless you!"
He tucked my aunt under his arm, and hurried out. My heart sank a
little, dearly as I loved my husband, when I had seen the last of the true
friend and protector of my maiden days.
The parting with old Benjamin came next. "I wish you well, my dear;
don't forget me," was all he said. But the old days at home came back
on me at those few words. Benjamin always dined with us on Sundays
in my father's time, and always brought some little present with him for
his master's child. I was very near to "spoiling my beauty" (as my uncle
had put it) when I offered the old man my cheek to kiss, and heard him
sigh to himself, as if he too were not quite hopeful about my future life.
My husband's voice roused me, and turned my mind to happier
thoughts.
"Shall we go, Valeria?" he asked.
I stopped him on our way out to take advantage of my uncle's advice; in
other words, to see how I looked in the glass over the vestry fireplace.
What does the glass show me?
The glass shows a tall and slender young woman of three-and-twenty
years of age. She is not at all the sort of person who attracts attention in
the street, seeing that she fails to exhibit the popular yellow hair and the
popular painted cheeks. Her hair is black; dressed, in these later days
(as it was dressed years since to please her father), in broad ripples
drawn back from the forehead, and gathered into a simple knot behind
(like the hair of the Venus de Medicis), so as to show the neck beneath.
Her complexion is pale: except in moments of violent agitation there is

no color to be seen in her face. Her eyes are of so dark a blue that they
are generally mistaken for black. Her eyebrows are well enough in
form, but they are too dark and too strongly marked. Her nose just
inclines toward the aquiline bend, and is considered a little too large by
persons difficult to please in the matter of noses. The mouth, her best
feature, is very delicately shaped, and is capable of presenting great
varieties of expression. As to the face in general, it is too narrow and
too long at the lower part, too broad and too low in the higher regions
of the eyes and the head. The whole picture, as reflected in the glass,
represents a woman of some elegance, rather too pale, and