Agnes was a wild, free, rather
coarse-natured girl, and Gordon drank. That she fell in love with me
there's no doubt--and I grew to like her quite well enough to talk
nonsense to her. Whether any plot was laid between her and Gordon to
entrap me, or whether what happened arose in the recklessness of the
moment, I cannot decide to this hour. It was on my twenty-first birthday;
I was almost well again; we had what the doctor called a dinner, Gordon a
jollification, and Agnes a supper. It was late when we sat down to it,
eight o'clock; and there was a good deal of feasting and plenty of wine.
The doctor was called out afterwards to a patient several miles distant,
and George Gordon made some punch; which rendered none of our heads the
steadier. At least I can answer for mine: I was weak with the long
illness, and not much of a drinker at any time. There was a great deal of
nonsense going on, and Gordon pretended to marry me to Agnes. He said or
read (I can't tell which, and never knew then) some words mockingly out
of the prayer-book, and said we were man and wife. Whilst we were all
laughing at the joke, the doctor's old housekeeper came in, to see what
the noise was about, and I, by way of keeping it up, took Agnes by the
hand, and introduced her as Mrs. Elster. I did not understand the woman's
look of astonishment then; unfortunately, I have understood it too well
since.
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