rn. Above all things I learned to fear my father's will; it was
invincible.
"My wife and I grew up in my widower father's family, and fell in love,
and had an understanding that at a proper season we would marry. That
season could not be long postponed when Agnes's increasing beauty and my
ardor kept pace together. I sought an occasion to break the secret to my
father, and his reception of it filled me with terror. 'Marry Agnes!'
he replied. 'You have no right to her. Your mother left her to me. I
may marry her myself.'
"If he had never formed this design before it was now pursued with his
well-known tireless energy. The suggestion needed no other encouragement
than her beauty, ever present to inflame us both. Her household habits
and society were to his liking; he offered me everything but that which
embraced all to me. 'Go to Europe!' he said. 'Take a wife where you
will; but Agnes you shall not have. I will give you money, pleasure, and
independence, but I love where you have looked. Agnes will be your
mother, not your wife!'
"Alas! gentlemen, this purpose of my father was not mere tyranny; he
loved her, indeed, and that was the insurmountable fact. My betrothed
had too much reason to know it. We mingled our tears together and
acknowledged our dependence and duty, but we loved with that youthful
fulness which cannot be mistaken nor dissuaded. In our distress we went
to that kind partner whom my father had raised from an apprentice to be
his equal, and asked him what to do. He told us to marry while we could.
Agnes preferred an open marriage as least in consequences, and involving
every trouble in the brave outset. I hoped to wean my father from his
wilfulness, and yet protect my affection by a secret marriage, to which
with difficulty I prevailed on my betrothed to consent. After our
marriage I found my husband's domain no less invaded by my father's
suit, until life became intolerable and it was necessary to speak. Poor,
brave Rainey, feeling keenly for us, fixed the time and place. He had
seldom crossed my father, and I trembled for his safety, but never
could have anticipated what came to pass.
"Mr. Rainey said to us, 'I will tell your father, while we are crossing
the river some evening in a batteau, that you and Agnes are married, and
his suit is fruitless. He will be unable to do worse than sit still and
bear it in the small limits of the boat, and before we touch the other
shore will get philosophy fro
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