I spent a long day in the closed-door seclusion of my offices, pouring over accounts, working and re-working numbers repeatedly only to arrive at the same, desperate sum. I had put my whole life in my brothers hands; my precious funds teetering helplessly at the precarious perch of a very high cliff.
As I walked with Miss. Morris that evening, hoping for a release from the day's pressures, I could only think of my financial woes, or what was to be my financial woes once my brother threw my savings to the wind. Looking at her darling face, I was confronted with the nightmarish prospect of never having the means to provide for her in marriage, or simply being unable to marry her because of that very fact.
I tried to calm myself; Charles had yet to ruin me. There was still the chance, however slim, that my assets may be recovered. I reassured myself; I still had my press, my occupation, and the funds produced, no matter how seemingly small.
And yet, still it all stung at my brain like a thousand angered hornets. Emily could perceive something troubled me, trying gently to draw me from my shell of worrying thoughts. She endeavored to engage me in various forms of our favorite conversations. When her efforts did not succeed as they should have, she resorted to a brief duration of silence.
Oh, how I adored her and her tender, understanding heart. What a wife she would make; how many a man she could render the happiest husband! How fortunate was I that she turned her loving eyes upon me in reception of my own admiration for her, even as she deserved the kingliest Lord or the wealthiest Emperor. To think I could be cast away by her ever-skeptical father, rightfully concluding that I could not provide for her as he sees fit.
But I was turning to the desperation of the unknown, swallowed by the obscurity of all the unawares. I also jumped far too fast to the conclusion that this treasured being before me was so materialistic - if I was unable to pamper her with the glitter of jewels, the romance of the pompous, I would give her every comfort of the heart, the safety of the truest and purest love. If we loved one another so holistically, her heart in a place similar to my own, would she not only care for the devoted affection of a common working man?
Did I fully comprehend the scope of her love, the luminescence of her heart, and the virtue of her head? With reason fogged by passion, did I really know the Miss. Emily Morris beyond the pretty face at my side, the woman of my dreams?