Chapter xliv. Our New Honeymoon.
It is not to be disguised or denied that my spirits were depressed on my journey to London.
To resign the one cherished purpose of my life, when I had suffered so much in pursuing it, and when I had (to all appearance) so nearly reached the realization of my hopes, was putting to a hard trial a woman’s fortitude and a woman’s sense of duty. Still, even if the opportunity had been offered to me, I would not have recalled my letter to Mr. Playmore. “It is done, and well done,” I said to myself; “and I have only to wait a day to be reconciled to it — when I give my husband my first kiss.”
I had planned and hoped to reach London in time to start for Paris by the night-mail. But the train was twice delayed on the long journey from the North; and there was no
