A Sandshore Wooing Page #4

"A Sandshore Wooing" is a charming short story by Lucy Maud Montgomery, set in the picturesque landscape of Prince Edward Island. This tale revolves around the themes of love, misunderstanding, and personal growth as it follows its protagonists through the complexities of romantic relationships. With Montgomery's signature lyrical prose and vivid descriptions of nature, the narrative captures the essence of human emotions and the beauty of life’s simpler moments. The story highlights the importance of communication and the serendipity of love, making it a delightful read for fans of classic literature.

• Short story

								

mischief, and my heart gave a great bound of hope. Perhaps I would
have a chance to send word to Francis, since Aunt did not know of the
part my spyglass had played in my bad behaviour.

I meekly followed my grim guardians to the shore and sat dejectedly on
my rug while they paced the sand. Francis was on the rocks. As soon as
Aunt Martha and Mrs. Saxby were at a safe distance, I began my
message: "All discovered. Aunt is very angry. We go home today."

Then I snatched my glass. His face expressed the direst consternation
and dismay. He signalled: "I must see you before you go."

"Impossible. Aunt will never forgive me. Good-bye."

I saw a look of desperate determination cross his face. If forty Aunt
Marthas had swooped down upon me, I could not have torn my eyes from
that glass.

"I love you. You know it. Do you care for me? I must have my answer
now."

What a situation! No time or chance for any maidenly hesitation or
softening aureole of words. Aunt and Mrs. Saxby had almost reached the
point where they invariably turned. I had barely time to spell out a
plain, blunt "yes" and read his answer.

"I shall go home at once, get Mother and Connie, follow you, and
demand possession of my property. I shall win the day. Have no fear.
Till then, good-bye, my darling."

"Marguerite," said Mrs. Saxby at my elbow, "it is time to go."

I got up obediently. Aunt Martha was as grim and uncompromising as
ever, and Mrs. Saxby looked like a chief mourner, but do you suppose I
cared? I dropped behind them just once before we left the shore. I
knew he was watching me and I waved my hand.

I suppose I am really engaged to Francis Shelmardine. But was there
ever such a funny wooing? And what will Aunt Martha say?
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