March 1st: I really am no diarist. It is only rarely that the urge comes over me to write. I suppose life has been going on in the same way all these weeks. But I have never been so happy and it is wonderful and all due to Mervyn. Each day I get up with a feeling of exhilaration. It is love, I suppose, and what is so exciting is that we are both under the same roof.
We are sometimes invited to dine at the Bonner table—the reason being that they are short of guests and we are educated—far better than our employers, I am glad to say—and we are of use to make up the numbers. This amuses us.
Mervyn always has a great deal to say about the people who visit us. He is observant of human nature and can be so amusing in a wicked sort of way. I tell him he is very cruel.
A few evenings ago the vicar came and brought with him some connection of his family—not a nephew—farther away than that ... a sort of second cousin, I imagine. The young man, it seemed, was a ne'er-do-well. He was rather good-looking ... quite handsome in fact. His name is Justin Cartwright.
When I read that I started. It was like a physical blow.
Justin! Then something else struck me. What was the name of the man we had thrown into the pool? Mervyn Duncarry. Mervyn was not a very common name. I had been wondering why Justin had thought it necessary for me to read the diary of a strange young woman named Mina. This was now taking on some significance.
I returned to the book.
He is staying with the vicar. I think he may have been in some sort of trouble. I quite like him. So does Mervyn.
March 6th: The greatest day of my life. Mervyn told me he loved me. We shall get married one day. But it is not easy for a tutor and a governess. But still ... all that is to be considered later. We shall have to make plans. I am quite blissful and can think of nothing else.
March 30th: Today we rode into Bodmin. We made the excuse that we had to get some books for the children's lessons and they were left in the charge of servants so we had the day to ourselves.
I have never been so happy before. I laughed when I remembered how apprehensive I had been about coming to this place and when I think of the happiness it has brought me, from the moment I stepped into that little branch line train, I cannot believe my good fortune.
"We are going to buy a ring," said Mervyn. "It's a pledge."
"I want to buy a ring for you," I replied. "There shall be one each."
"Have you got the money?"
"Not much."
"Nor I."
We rode into Bodmin and left the horses at an inn where we had a glass of cider and a sandwich. Even the most ordinary food tastes like ambrosia when one is in the state I am in. We went to look in a jeweler's shop. It had to be gold.
The prices were beyond us. Then I had this idea. Why didn't we buy one ring. He should wear it one week and I another. We hugged each other. So we went in and bought a gold signet ring which we could just manage with our combined money and we had our initials engraved inside: M.D. for him and W.B. for me.
I felt sick. I saw it again. The pool from which I could never escape. The ring I had found. I had given it to Grace and she had flung it into the sea.
"Wilhelmina," he said, for he always calls me by my full name. He said it sounds important. Wilhelmina is grand. Mina is just ordinary. "Wilhelmina, with this ring I make you mine for as long as we both shall live." I was so happy. I had never dreamed there could be such happiness. How we laughed over the ring. It was big for me. I could only wear it on my forefinger; and it went onto his little finger. We would later carry out our first intention. There should be two rings—one for him and one for me ... and we should always wear them because of what they meant to us.
April 5th: I suppose one cannot exist forever on the top pinnacle of happiness. I understand how Mervyn feels. Perhaps I shall give way ... in time. But I can't just ... lightly forget my upbringing, I suppose.
My mother and I were very close to each other, and although when she was so ill I sometimes lost patience with her, that did not mean that I did not love her very much. I always thought of her as so wise. And she used to say, "A bride should go to her husband a virgin. I did, Mina; and I know it will be the same with you. It must be. I could never rest happy if it were not so. It is a sin, Mina." I had said, Yes, it was and I promised her that I would be pure and virginal until my wedding day. It must have been in both our minds that living as I did it was hardly likely that there would be a wedding day, so it had been easy for me to give that promise. But now Mervyn was urging me. He seemed to have changed. He was fierce ... even angry. He wanted to come to my room at night. My room was next to Jennifer's. I wondered what would have happened if she had awakened in the night and come to me for something, which she might well do. I imagined being dismissed with ignominy ... both of us. I was sure the Bonners would take a very virtuous stance in such matters. So I said: "No. We must wait until we are married." "When will that be," demanded Mervyn, "in the position we are in?" "I thought we should wait. Make plans. Even tell the Bonners. They might allow us to continue working after we were married." He said he did not think they would. Nor did we want to be here all our fives. "What else could we do?" I asked.
"We could get away from here ... to a little place of our own."
"And do what? We couldn't live on my income."
"We'll do something. In the meantime ... I want you, Wilhelmina. This is torment for me ... being under the same roof."
I should have been delighted that he cared so much, but there was the ghost of my mother and my puritanical upbringing holding me back. I wanted to give way, yet I was afraid and I felt I should never be quite happy if I did. Mervyn was so angry. I had never seen him so angry before. He was like a different man.
April 15th: There is a rift between us. Sometimes Mervyn will take me so tightly in his arms that I could cry out with the pain of it. I am a little afraid. He looks so fierce and angry and different. I almost give way ... and then I see my mother and I am afraid. She had talked to me about deserted women and unwanted babies. She said, "You see, they believe in these protestations of eternal love. And then they find they have been tricked."
I can't believe that Mervyn would trick me. We truly love each other. I was wearing the ring all last week. He has it now. He was quite violent this evening. I was so upset. It was after dinner. He was with me when I was going up the stairs. He began urging me ... even more insistently than usual.
I said: "Don't talk so loudly. Someone will hear."
He threw me from him. I almost fell. Then I ran up to my room. I think if he had come after me I might have given way. But he did not come. Later I heard him leave the house. I am realizing that I am a little frightened of him. I did not know that he could be so vehement. He is like a different man.
I could not sleep. So I am writing in my diary.
April 16th: This is terrible. Everything I have dreamed of is gone like a soap bubble which the children blow with their clay pipes. I did not hear him come in last night though I sat for a long time at my window. I cannot believe I dozed. I was so upset. I kept going over that scene. I kept saying to myself, It is because he loves me so much. This morning he was very subdued. His eyes were shadowed.
He said to me: "I'm sorry, Wilhelmina."
I said: "It's all right. I understand. Let's get married ... no matter what we have to arrange afterwards."
"Let's do that," he said. "Oh God, Wilhelmina, if only we can get away from all this to a life of our own. We'll do anything. We'll make plans right away."
I was happy again. He understood. Everything would be perfect.