by a sudden
impulse which his after-judgment would condemn.
Neither of these things occurred. The offer was indeed made
under a sudden and overmastering
impulse. But it was persistently repeated,
till it had obtained a
conditionalassent. No sane man
in Mr. Browning's position could have been
ignorant of the responsibilities
he was incurring. He had, it is true, no experience of illness.
Of its nature, its
treatment, its symptoms direct and indirect,
he remained pathetically
ignorant to his dying day. He did not know
what disqualifications for active
existence might
reside in the fragile,
recumbent form, nor in the long years lived without change of air or scene
beyond the passage, not always even allowed, from bed-room to sitting-room,
from sofa to bed again. But he did know that Miss Barrett
received him lying down, and that his very
ignorance of her condition
left him without
security for her ever being able to stand.
A strong sense of
sympathy and pity could alone entirely justify or explain
his act -- a strong desire to bring
sunshine into that darkened life.
We might be sure that these motives had been present with him
if we had no direct authority for believing it; and we have this authority
in his own
comparatively" target="_blank" title="ad.比较地;比较上">
comparatively recent words: `She had so much need
of care and
protection. There was so much pity in what I felt for her!'
The pity was, it need hardly be said, at no time a
substitute for love,
though the love in its full force only developed itself later;
but it supplied an
additional incentive.
Miss Barrett had made her
acceptance of Mr. Browning's proposal
contingent on her improving in health. The
outlook was
therefore vague.
But under the influence of this great new happiness she did gain
some degree of strength. They saw each other three times a week;
they exchanged letters
constantly, and a very deep and perfect understanding
established itself between them. Mr. Browning never mentioned his visits
except to his own family, because it was naturally feared
that if Miss Barrett were known to receive one person, other friends,
or even
acquaintances, would claim admittance to her; and Mr. Kenyon,
who was greatly pleased by the result of his
introduction,
kept silence for the same reason.
In this way the months slipped by till the summer of 1846
was
drawing to its close, and Miss Barrett's doctor then announced
that her only chance of even
comparativerecovery lay
in spending the coming winter in the South. There was no
rational obstacle
to her
acting on this advice, since more than one of her brothers
was
willing to
escort her; but Mr. Barrett, while
surrounding his daughter
with every possible comfort, had resigned himself to her
invalid condition
and expected her also to
acquiesce in it. He probably did not believe
that she would benefit by the proposed change. At any rate
he refused his consent to it. There remained to her only one
alternative --
to break with the old home and travel southwards as Mr. Browning's wife.
When she had finally
assented to this course, she took a
preparatory step
which, in so far as it was known, must itself have been
sufficiently startling
to those about her: she drove to Regent's Park, and when there,
stepped out of the
carriage and on to the grass. I do not know
how long she stood -- probably only for a moment; but I well remember
hearingthat when, after so long an
interval, she felt earth under her feet
and air about her, the
sensation was almost bewilderingly strange.
They were married, with
strictprivacy, on September 12, 1846,
at St. Pancras Church.
The engaged pair had not only not obtained Mr. Barrett's
sanction to their marriage; they had not even invoked it;
and the
doubly clandestine
character thus forced upon the union
could not be
otherwise than repugnant to Mr. Browning's pride;
but it was dictated by the deepest
filialaffection on the part
of his intended wife. There could be no question in so enlightened a mind