MARY.
253
Than she and William,"—almost before
I knew what I was saying, as if then
The words that had been framed upon my lips
So oft before, to die there, came to life,
I said, and did not tremble, "Oh, dear father,
That day is past already, I am married"—
"Married!" he cried, and started from his chair,
"Who knew of this? who planned it with you? married?"
I said, "We married when I was away—
There is no living soul that knows of it
Except ourselves;" he answered, "It is well,
For then I have but one ungrateful child;
Go to the home that you have chosen,—now
You have no other; go unto your husband,
And make to him a more obedient wife
Than you have been a daughter—ay, make much
Of him, for now you have not any Father."
There was a dreadful stillness in the room
When he had done: it seemed to me all full
Of stony faces, no one moved or spoke—
I thought my sisters would have spoken for me,
For they were married, and they must have loved,
But not as I did, or they would have spoken,
Their husbands were good men, but not like William;
And there was silence, but I heard the words
"You have no father," sounding in my ears,
And all things darkened round me—then I felt
An arm that caught me ere I fell, and heard
My brother George's voice that said, "Oh, father!
I knew what I was saying, as if then
The words that had been framed upon my lips
So oft before, to die there, came to life,
I said, and did not tremble, "Oh, dear father,
That day is past already, I am married"—
"Married!" he cried, and started from his chair,
"Who knew of this? who planned it with you? married?"
I said, "We married when I was away—
There is no living soul that knows of it
Except ourselves;" he answered, "It is well,
For then I have but one ungrateful child;
Go to the home that you have chosen,—now
You have no other; go unto your husband,
And make to him a more obedient wife
Than you have been a daughter—ay, make much
Of him, for now you have not any Father."
There was a dreadful stillness in the room
When he had done: it seemed to me all full
Of stony faces, no one moved or spoke—
I thought my sisters would have spoken for me,
For they were married, and they must have loved,
But not as I did, or they would have spoken,
Their husbands were good men, but not like William;
And there was silence, but I heard the words
"You have no father," sounding in my ears,
And all things darkened round me—then I felt
An arm that caught me ere I fell, and heard
My brother George's voice that said, "Oh, father!
