For Charlotte Hawkehurst the summer days which succeeded her marriage
passed very quietly. She had not been told the real motive of that hasty
and stolen marriage which had given her to the man she loved and trusted
so completely. Valentine and Diana had between them contrived to mould
Mrs. Sheldon to their will; and it was at her request that Charlotte had
consented to so strange a step.
The fable invented to account for this desire on the part of Mrs. Sheldon
was very innocent. The doctors had ordered a milder climate than England
for the dear convalescent--Madeira, Algeria, Malta--or some other equally
remote quarter of the globe. It was impossible that Mr. or Mrs. Sheldon
could take so long a journey; Mr. Sheldon being bound hand and foot to
the mill-wheel of City life, Mrs. Sheldon being the slave and helpmeet of
her husband. Nor could dear Charlotte go to Malta alone, or attended only
by faithful Diana Paget. In short, there was no course so obvious or so
prudent as a hasty marriage, which would enable the invalid to seek a
milder clime, accompanied and guarded by her natural protector--a
husband.
"Consent, dearest, I entreat you," wrote Valentine, in the little note
which supported Mrs. Sheldon's request, "however strange our wishes may
seem to you. Believe that it is for the best, for your own sake, for the
sake of all who love you, and ask no questions.
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