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I knew I did not. I reminded myself that I had had nearly no
conversation with him, that our intercourse had been of the briefest,
that I had seen him only three times altogether, and that I scarcely
knew him at all.
And yet I was going to marry him! In a few days more I should be his
wife, and we should be bound together as long as life should last!
Then I remembered what Father Dan had said about a girl's first love,
her first love-letter, and all the sweet, good things that should come
to her at the time of her marriage.
None of them had come to me. I do not think my thoughts of love were
ever disturbed by any expectation of the delights of the heart--languors
of tenderness, long embraces, sighs and kisses, and the joys and fevers
of the flesh--for I knew nothing about them. But, nevertheless, I asked
myself if I had mistaken the matter altogether. Was love really
necessary? In all their busy preparations neither my father, nor my
husband, nor the lawyers, nor the Bishop himself, had said anything
about that.


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