Read Miss Hartwell's Dilemma for Free Online Page B

stride took him to Amaryllis’s side in a couple of paces. “Here, put your head down.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous, Bertram, I have never fainted in my life,” she responded with indignation. “And what an odiously unromantic thing to say, after all this time.”
    “If I had a romantic bone in my body, we’d have been married all this time. I’d never have let you put off our wedding again and again, waiting patiently so that you could enjoy your freedom before being tied to a husband.” He gazed down from beside her with a quizzical expression.
    “Do stop towering over me. Please, sit.”
    “I will sit if you will take off that old-maidish cap. There, that is better.” He threw the offending garment on top of the piano, then pulled up a chair and sat down, taking one of her hands in his. “Why did you do it?”
    “Why did I keep postponing our wedding?” She made no move to pull her hand from his clasp.
    “That, yes, and why did you write me that letter breaking it all off, and then disappear without leaving me word where to find you?”
    “You must have received the letter at least a week before I left town. Why did you not come in time?”
    “I did not receive it in time. I was angry, Amaryllis. You remember that afternoon, the second anniversary of our betrothal. I felt I had waited long enough. My parents were pressing me to name a day, to settle down. They were very fond of you, you know.”
    “I know. I don’t know why I refused you again. It was not that I so greatly enjoyed my freedom. There was a sort of inertia, an unwillingness to change anything in my life. The last change had been so painful, like going into exile. There were Tizzy and Aunt Eugenia to consider, also. I was afraid of taking on the responsibilities of being your wife and more afraid of seeing you grow indifferent once we were wed. I had seen so many marriages where husband and wife scarce spoke to each other. I was in love with you, Bertram. I could not bear that that should happen to us.”
    He captured her other hand. “I was angry. I decided to go away, not to see you for a month. I went to stay with a friend in Hampshire for a fortnight and then on to Tatenhill to my parents. There I found your letter releasing me from our engagement.”
    “I had to do it. You must see that. The scandal attached to Papa’s behaviour was such that it would have been the outside of enough to keep you tied to the betrothal. Besides, there was not a penny left of my dowry.”
    “And of course I was marrying you for your money. Little goose!” His voice was loving. “I was still in shock from your letter when my father summoned me. He gave me an ultimatum. My frivolous, here-and-thereian life was a disgrace to the family. He had obtained a position for me in Vienna at the Congress. I was to leave in two weeks with or without you, or he would make my life deuced uncomfortable. Not given to idle threats, m’father. I posted straight back to town, drove all night, but you were already gone.”             
    “The lease on the house was up. It was that very evening, the day I last saw you, that Papa dined with us, and the next day he was gone. He had paid all our bills. He was so proud of that. Still, we had very little money. We had to go. Besides, once we had decided what to do, as Tizzy said, ‘If it were done, when ‘tis done, then ‘twere well it were done quickly.’”
    “Macbeth. Miss Tisdale is still with you?”
    “Oh yes. I could not have managed, still could not manage, without her.”
    “This house, how did you find it?”
    “It is Godmama’s. She lets it to us for a peppercorn rent, and since Godmama is a very literal-minded lady, she comes to visit once a year to receive her peppercorn.”
    He laughed but spoke seriously. “I have a bone to pick with Lady Mountolivet Gurnleigh. She refused to tell me where you had gone, and no one else knew. I have been abroad so much of the time since that I have had no