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137
The Solitary Summer
·
Elizabeth Von Arnim
73
"No,
certainly
it
isn't
fair."
There
was
a
pause.
"He
is
a
good
boy,"
I
murmured
presently.
"A
very
good
boy."
"And
she
will
be
quite
ruined
unless
somebody--"
"I'll
tell
you
what
we
can
do,
Elizabeth,"
he
interrupted;
"we
can
buy
what
is
needful
and
let
him
have
it
on
condition
that
he
buys
it
back
gradually
by
some
small
monthly
payment."
"So
we
can."
"And
I
think
there
is
a
room
over
the
stables
that
is
empty."
"So
there
is."
"And
he
can
go
to
town
and
get
what
furniture
he
needs
and
bring
the
girl
back
with
him
and
marry
her
at
once.
The
sooner
the
better,
poor
girl."
And
so
within
a
fortnight
they
were
married,
and
came
hand
in
hand
to
me,
he
proud
and
happy,
holding
himself
very
straight,
she
in
no
wise
yet
recovered
from
the
shock
and
misery
of
the
last
few
hopeless
months,
looking
up
at
me
with
eyes
grown
much
too
big
for
her
face,
eyes
in
which
there
still
lurked
the
frightened
look
caught
in
the
town
where
she
had
hidden
herself,
and
where
fingers
of
scorn
could
not
have
been
wanting,
and
loud
derision,
and
utter
shame,
besides
the
burden
of
sickness,
and
hunger,
and
miserable
pitiful
youth.
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