A Chance Encounter

Elizabeth was much affected. It was true; she did like him. It seemed unfair that she could not love this man when she agreed that they could have a good life together, while she loved the man she despised.

"It would not be fair to marry you when I do not love you, William," she said. "Such a marriage would not work."

He drew the horses to a stop and faced her eagerly. "And did love work, Elizabeth? How long did youi marriage to Robert last? I do not know."

She looked down in embarrassment. "Two days," she replied.

"Two days?" His voice registered shock. "Do you think B marriage based on respect and friendship would so soon come to an end? Marry me, Elizabeth, please."

She looked at him, shaking her head slowly. "I do not know if I could," she said.

He smiled suddenly and visibly relaxed. "I take hope from your words and your ma

She smiled too. "I shall think about it, William, I promise," she said. "But I ca

He gave the horses the signal to start again and soon they were traveling lanes and roadways that brought them closer to home.

"There is to be another ball at Squire Worthing's next week," Mr. Mainwaring reminded Elizabeth. "Are you to attend?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "I shall be expected to chaperone Cecily while Mr. and Mrs. Rowe play cards."

"May I expect an answer on that occasion?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, "by next week I shall have decided."

He reached for her hand while keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "I shall live in suspense until then," he said, squeezing her fingers almost painfully.

---

The following days were not tranquil ones for Elizabeth. She was unanimously elected to accompany Cecily, A

Mrs. Rowe had also chosen this particular week in which to make an inventory of all her household effects. Elizabeth helped her count sheets and pillowcases and towels and dozens of other items, classifying them all as good enough for guests, good enough for the family, good enough for servants, in need of mending, or ready for the rubbish heap. When there was no bustling about to be done, she sat and mended and darned, though there seemed to be no bottom to the pile of articles still to be tackled.

But through all this activity, Elizabeth's mind was occupied by the one pervading question: what answer was she to give to William Mainwaring on the night of the a

As the days passed, however, she found her feelings changing. It was true that love had never done her much good. It had brought her very little happiness. A few weeks of courtship and two days of marriage did not provide enough happiness for a lifetime. There had been years of pain and emptiness. Perhaps a marriage based on affection and respect would prove more durable. Perhaps there would not be the peak of delirious joy that she had known with Robert. But there would not be the depths of despair, either.

Elizabeth tried, coolly and rationally, to imagine what marriage to William Mainwaring would be like. He would always treat her with kindness and respect, she was sure. She would always feel at ease and cheerful in his company. They would live at Ferndale most of the year, probably. That would certainly suit her, as she felt a deep affection for the people of the neighborhood. They might also spend some time at his estates in the north. She had often thought that she would like to see Scotland.

She pictured life as it would be if she declined the proposal. She would stay with the Rowes until Cecily married, she supposed. That might be for one or two years longer, certainly not more. And then she would seek a position elsewhere as governess or companion. It was the life she had pla

It was that final thought around which the whole decision finally hinged. Elizabeth passionately wanted children of her own, and she was six and twenty already. She could have those children if she married William Mainwaring. But it was for Robert De

Elizabeth prepared carefully for the ball. Whatever her decision was to be, she wanted to feel confident of her attractions on that night. She had Miss Phillips make her a dress of cream silk with an overdress of matching lace. Gold ribbons encircled the high waist, and gold embroidery made the hemline glitter. Most drastic of all, she had her hair cut short around the crown of her head and longer at the neck. Hair that had been wavy when long and thick now clustered in soft curls around her face and down her neck.

"Anyone looking at you and Cecily now," Mr. Rowe remarked at di

"Upon my soul," his wife agreed, "it is a vastly becoming hairdo, my dear Miss Rossiter."

"You will cast me quite in the shade, Beth," Cecily added cheerfully, "now that you have got rid of that dreadful old-maidish hair knot. You are so beautiful, I am mortally jealous."

The Rowes were among the last to arrive at the a

But Elizabeth did not devote all her attention to these young people. She had immediately looked around for William Mainwaring. He was dancing with Lady Worthing, who had already left the receiving line when the Rowes arrived. He was looking extraordinarily handsome in the black evening clothes that became him so well. He saw her and smiled in her direction, but good ma

Elizabeth watched him covertly. He was indeed a matrimonial prize: handsome, rich, well-ma