Vexed; or, The Wife's Sister/Chapter 2

NOW for a good canter, Rowdon." Miss Darcy touched her horse lightly on the right shoulder with her riding-whip.

"He has only one fault," she explained to her companion; "he will break on the wrong leg, and I am trying to cure him of it. No, that won't do;" and she pulled up again, while the well-groomed creature, shining like satin, pawed impatiently.

Dick, on a sturdy little Shetland, which he had quite outgrown, was leading the way, showing them one of his favourite rides across country.

"I am very lucky to have met you this afternoon, Miss Darcy," said Edward Foley, as they drew up for a minute to breathe their horses, after a gallop on the turf. "Your servant could not tell me which way you had gone, but I ​traced you by the hoof marks, and saw where you had taken a considerable ditch. Dick seemed to have gone at it recklessly, and I should say, by the scrambling marks of the pony, had narrowly escaped a cropper."

"Come on, Foley, give us a lead over this bit of a hedge; the little brute refuses it."

Dick, with his cap pushed back and his elbows out, was digging his heels into the shaggy sides of the unwilling pony.

"You will certainly come to grief if you attempt it with Scotchy," said Albreda. "You are too heavy for such jumps."

"Am I? Then here goes;" and with a loud whoo-hoop, crash went pony and boy into the very middle of the hedge.

"Serves you right," said Edward, as scratched and resentful Dick picked himself up.

"Why couldn't you give a fellow a lead when he asked you?" said Dick, sulkily remounting the equally sulky animal.

"Because you should have listened to your sister, Master Richard."

"Oh, you're one of those chaps, I see," returned the boy, lowering his voice to escape Albreda's ear. Fortunately, for the peace of the house, he had considerable awe of her.

Exactly what Dick meant by "those chaps" Edward could not determine, but presuming ​that it had reference to his former avowal of dislike to chaps that carried off his sisters, he devoutly hoped that the boy's prediction would not prove short of the truth. They were not much troubled with the rider of the shaggy pony after this. He went his own eventful course, and left them to the more sober enjoyments of a maturer age. At least, that was the boy's impression, as he saw them riding slowly round a hill to find a gate, instead of taking a short cut over the wall. Jumping and galloping are all very well, and no one enjoyed the exercise more than Albreda; but it had one disadvantage—it interrupted conversation, and she was too much interested in the present discussion to afford to lose a word of it.

"I have been thinking over our talk at the breakfast," Edward had said, "and your last words on the subject have haunted me. If I remember rightly, you spoke of the Bill as 'breaking the written law of God and outraging a natural law.' I thought that Scripture was distinctly in favour of it; and as for a natural law, why, is it not graven on the hearts of men as well as women?"

"I believe it is, Mr. Foley; but men are not now in the position to test it."

"Well, let us be methodical in our argument, and take each particular subject separately. ​To begin with, I will give you my view of the Scriptural law, and then you shall answer it. I am very generous to let you come last: it gives a great advantage in argument."

"I don't require the advantage," said Albreda, with a sparkle of fun in her eyes. "Still, I think you are wise, for your own sake, to begin, as I should certainly take a long innings if once started, and you might find it difficult to come in at all, if I hit your ball into the clouds so that it never came down again."

"It would be bound to, and I should wait patiently till I got a nice little catch off your bat."

"You must be serious, Mr. Foley."

Albreda had caught herself falling into the light way of talking which she had before so sharply condemned; but riding was so exhilarating, and it was such a merry May morning. Everything was laughing, and the great boughs of the trees seemed to be clapping their hands for joy; it was difficult to feel very grave. They were both silent for a few minutes.

"There is a verse in Leviticus xviii.," began Edward, "which, to quote the words used by a member of Parliament only the other day, 'by its particular prohibition seems to imply a general permission' with regard to such marriage. The verse, which is the eighteenth, reads ​thus: 'Neither shalt thou take a wife to her sister, to vex her . . . in her life time.' By prohibiting such a marriage during the life of the sister, may we not naturally presume that it was permitted after her decease? This has always seemed to me very clear, but I cannot say that I have studied it critically."

"Then please do study it critically, Mr. Foley." The tone was all earnestness now. "I have studied it with great care, and I find that that verse has no reference whatever to this subject, which has been already dealt with in verse sixteen. The words here rendered "a wife to her sister" are wrongly translated. Literally they should be "a woman to her sister," which common expression, as well as the similar one, of "a man to his brother," occurs forty-two times in the Hebrew Bible, and never once designates the blood relationship of two sisters or two brothers, but always and invariably means when used of persons, "two men together" or "two women together." This being the case, is it not clear that this verse, instead of countenancing marriage with a deceased wife's sister, is simply a plain prohibition of polygamy?"

"I'm afraid I cannot answer that without looking into the original myself, Miss Darcy; but plainly, then, how would you render the verse?"

​"According to the marginal reading, 'Neither shalt thou take one wife to another to vex her . . . in her life time.'

"Have you good authority for that view of the subject?"

"I was quoting from a well-known pamphlet of the Bishop of Lincoln, which came out in 1850, and in Lord Hatherley's grand speech the same argument was used ten years afterwards."

"Did you say that, though the same expression occurs forty-two times in the Bible, this is the only instance where it is translated in this way, denoting consanguinity?"

"Yes, that is the case; and knowing this, I cannot see how people can still quote this verse as an authority."

"Your argument is very strong, Miss Darcy, and I shall not rest till I have looked it up for myself."

Edward was beginning to wonder at his own ignorance. He had been reading a report of the debate on Mr. Broadhurst's resolution in 1884, and remembered an eloquent speech in which an honourable member^[1] had commenced by stating that "there was no dispute about the translation of that verse, and no ambiguity about it," and so he had felt safe in making use of it; but now he began to doubt the veracity of ​the honourable member who had so impressed him.

"You are getting the best of it at present," he said, laughing; "but, supposing I allow that we must leave that verse out of the question, then, though we may be without any direct permission, we are at least without any contrary command."

"I think not, Mr. Foley. The laws against marriages of affinity come before in the same chapter, and in verse sixteen we are told in plain unmistakable words that such marriages are forbidden."

"But that is speaking of a man not marrying his brother's widow."

"And is not that the same thing, Mr. Foley, if you allow the justice of equal marriage laws?"

"Well, let me see. Not exactly; a deceased wife's sister does not answer to a deceased brother's wife."

"What would it answer to, then?" There was a slight triumph in Albreda's voice. She had been working up to this point, and rather wickedly hoped that he would make this slip.

"Let me see," he said again, pulling up his horse and staring fixedly between its ears. "These things are horribly puzzling; and you are so ready with it all, Miss Darcy."

"I'll wait as long as you like," said Albreda. ​"Perhaps I had better leave you and take a gallop round the field. You might be ready by the time I get back."

She looked decidedly mischievous, and giving her horse a vigorous little reminder that he must start on the right leg this time, she was off and flying across the springy turf.

Edward's animal was not inclined to be left behind, and much interrupted the meditations of his master by curvetting and snorting. However, the problem was soon solved, and giving head to the restless creature, away he went in hot pursuit.

"I have not kept you long," he said, overtaking her before she was half round the field.

"Astonishing, Mr. Foley! how quick you have been. And what conclusion have you arrived at?"

"Alas! that I am wrong again. Of course a deceased brother's wife answers to a deceased sister's husband, the converse of which is a deceased wife's sister."

"Well done! you have got it perfectly; but you confess it is puzzling at first sight to see any connection between the two."

"That is the fault of the name of the Bill, I should say."

"That is my great complaint against it. The name of the Bill is most misleading. It ought ​to be called The Deceased Sister's Husband Bill, and then women would wake to see that it is a question for them to decide. In this sixteenth verse that we have been discussing, the direction there given is a distinct answer to the man's question, 'May a man marry his brother's wife?' The answer is plainly 'No;' and now it is reversed, and the woman's question is raised, and in plain words stands thus, 'May a woman marry her deceased sister's husband?' The answer is 'No,' for the same law of God applies to the one sex as to the other; but as long as it is called the Deceased Wife's Sister Bill, thoughtless women will vaguely suppose that it is a man's question, and that they need have no voice in the matter."

"I do not quite see, now, why it should be a more serious question for women than men."

"Because in such marriages the woman would have the greater sin. As it was the man's duty to his brother which forbad his union with his brother's wife, so it is the woman's duty to her sister which forbids her union with her sister's husband, though of course the man would be indirectly guilty. I'm afraid I explain myself very badly."

"Not at all; I see what you mean. She is more blameworthy for marrying her sister's husband than he for marrying his wife's sister."

​Albreda did not answer at once. Her mind, which worked rapidly, was already far in advance of the last conclusion, and she had to retrace her thought-steps before she could continue consecutively.

"I think I made a mistake in speaking of the man as only indirectly guilty in such a case," she said; "because, after all, the question, as it concerns himself alone, is a very serious one."

"It is a question of affinity merely. One can understand the undesirability of marriage between near relations by blood; but when that is not the case, it seems to me arbitrary to forbid them. If I remember right, those that are 'near of kin' were forbidden to marry; that surely means blood relations only."

"I am sorry to contradict you, Mr. Foley, but under that very head in Lev. xviii. 6 come even a greater number of laws against marriages of affinity than of consanguinity. The Kirk of Scotland interprets this verse as meaning, 'A man may not marry any of his wife's kindred nearer in blood than he may of his own, nor a woman of her husband's kindred nearer in blood than she may of her own.' If a man were forbidden to marry his uncle's wife on this ground, 'She is thine aunt' (ver. 14), though, of course, it was only by marriage, surely of a wife's sister it could be said, 'She is thy sister.'"

​"I must look at the chapter again," said Edward. "I had forgotten that so much was said about marriages of affinity."

They had left the fields and were now making their way homewards through the narrow lanes. High uncut hedges hung over them and obliged them to stoop in their saddles every now and then, to avoid the long green sprays. The air was heavy with the scent of may. A thousand buzzing, winged creatures were plying their trade in and out among the stellarias, buttercups, and red campians that grew rank and tall under the hedgerow.

A hush had come over them, and by mutual consent the argument seemed to have dropped for the present.

"'To be continued in our next,' I hope," said Edward; for, though he inwardly felt himself to have been worsted in the fight, he did not mean to give it up, and thought he had got some strong arguments still in reserve.

"I wonder where the 'next' will be?" Miss Darcy replied, putting her horse into a trot to hide her rising colour. "Oh, you wicked Rowdon, the wrong foot again! When shall I teach you?" And she pulled up and started afresh.

"I think men often trot on the wrong foot for want of such timely reminders."

​"That is very cutting and not quite fair, Mr. Foley; you know I did not mean to be corrective, only to have a fair discussion."

"No; but speaking generally, in all the conditions of life a man does want the help of a woman's influence."

Albreda felt that the conversation was likely to become personal, and with a woman's instinct of self-preservation feigned absence of mind.

"You are leaving the Grange to-morrow?" she said, as if she had not heard the remark.

Edward was vexed that his slight attempt at creating an interest in her had been unnoticed, as it had cost him more than his calm exterior and cool tone had evinced. He determined to try again.

"Yes, but I shall be tempted to pay my friends a visit again before long; that is to say, if you are not leaving Tunleigh for the summer months."

"I don't think so."

They had reached the gates of the manor grounds, and Edward, who was conscious that he had already overstepped his time and would certainly be late for the Grange dinner-hour, lifted his hat and galloped off.

Albreda watched him while she waited at the gate. She liked to see a big man so light and ​easy in the saddle, and his handling of the reins had pleased her. She was vastly particular in this respect, and he little knew the minute criticism to which his horsemanship had been subjected.