Father looked up at him. “As you can see, I am out of bed. I feel better today.” He looked to be in pain and even thinner in his large robe wrapped tightly aroundhim
“I am happy to hearthat.”
“Did I see you ridingearlier?”
Mark pulled up a chair next to his Father’s. “I was. Both I and the horse needed theexercise.”
Father thought for a moment. “I seem to remember, when you went riding, it usually meant you were troubled about something. Is that so today, aswell?”
Mark laughed. “Yes, Father, you know me all toowell.”
“And what is troubling you,son?”
Mark stood up and went to the window and looked out over the park to the river. “I have been troubled about MissSophie.”
“Ah, a subject I hoped to talk to youabout.”
Mark turned back toward his father. “Tell me your thoughts?” heasked.
Father smoothed out the blanket across his lap. “Son, is it not time you should be thinking about marriage? I was already married by your age and you were nearly a yearold.”
Mark came back to his chair and sat down and put his hand on his father’s arm. “Tell me about Mother—how you knew she was the one. I never get tired of hearing thatstory.”
Father sat back in his chair and gazed up at the ceiling, trying to recall all the details. “Ah… What a beautiful woman. But you know that. You remember her, do younot?”
“Yes, I was five or six when she died giving birth to Alice.” He lowered his head as he remembered that fatefulday.
Father drifted off into his memories as he began to narrate the story of his love. “I am afraid to say I was somewhat of a rebellious young man—the bane of my father’s existence. He had set up an arranged meeting with the daughter of the Earl of Bradford. We were to meet at a ball given by Lady Smyth-Hartford. But I was stubborn and insisted I did not want to go to the ball. I found the whole British mating ritual to be abhorrent and refused toattend.”
Father began to laugh which then turned into a bout ofcoughing.
“Should he continue?” Mark asked as he turned to thenurse.
She went over and gave him a spoonful of medicine, which he swallowed. It seemed to ease his cough and he soon turned to Mark to continue hisstory.
“Where wasI?”
“Theball.”
“Ah, yes. Well, having absolutely refused to go to this damn dance, your grandfather said that I should not be getting the wonderful horse I had my eye on. ‘No ball, no horse,’ he said bluntly. Well, let me tell you, I was dressed and ready to go to that damned ball on time and with a brightface.”
“Now this is the part I like,” Mark said, as he waited for his father tocontinue.
“The ball was nothing special. I had been to dozens just like it before. The young ladies were all too eager and the young men were all too bored. It was the general practice that one rarely got to dance with the lady you wanted. There was an unseen spider web of setups well established long before the ball evenstarted.
“Our family arrived, and Mother settled in with a number of her cronies, and they began to gossip. Father stood over my shoulder and watched like a hawk until the lady I was to dance with all evening appeared with herfamily.
“I had never met the girl before, so I had no idea what to expect. But when Father pointed her out to me, I became weak in the knees and had to put my hand on his shoulder to steady mybalance.
“The girl was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my entire life. And when she looked over in my direction and caught my eye, I just knew we were destined to be togetherforever.”
Father sighed. “But, of course, it was not forever,” he saidsadly.
Mark put his hand on his Father’s shoulder. “We still live with that every day, do wenot?”
Father gazed outward, but without seeing. “We do, Son,” he said, as he put his hand on his son’s which was still on hisshoulder.
“The rest you know. We courted, we married, and we were sublimelyhappy.”
