The bans had been put up in the church upon the hill, and in a
month she would be this man's wife. She had been congratulated upon the
coming event by all the neighbors. Some had slyly hinted--little
guessing the pain they gave to that sore heart--at her late "goings-on"
with that young gentleman-painter; they had almost suspected at one time
that he would have supplanted her old flame; but they were glad to see
matters as they were. Solomon was a steady, sagacious man, as every body
knew, and would get on in the world; and what he gained he would not
waste in foolish ways. Such an old friend of her father's, too. Nothing
could be more fitting and satisfactory in all respects. Solomon,
notoriously a laggard in love, was likened to the tortoise, who had won
the race against the hare.
To have to listen to all this well-meant twaddle was misery indeed.
Perhaps, upon the whole, good honest dullness does unknowingly inflict
more grievous wounds than the barbed satiric tongue.
To think, to picture to herself the condition of her lover--deplorable,
she was convinced, from the grim satisfaction upon Solomon's face when
he first came back--was torture. She could not read, for her mind fled
from the page, like breath from a mirror; there was nothing for it but
occupation.
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