The news that William Thompson intended to marry off his only daughter sent ripples through the village. And no wonderthe bride was not merely plain but downright homely. With a large nose, a crooked gait, and legs of uneven length, no suitors had ever lined up for poor Eleanor. Even her short walks to the market were met with snickers that trailed behind her like shadows.
“Must you limp like Eleanor the Lame?” scolded mothers when their children mimicked her uneven stride in play.
But William adored his daughter. And being a man of meanshe was, after all, the village magistratehe promised a generous dowry. Soon, whispers spread through the cottages. For such a sum, one might overlook the girls looks. Besides, she was hardworking and mild-tempered.
Two suitors emerged: Thomas and Edward. Thomas, the son of the schoolmaster, was a refined sort, though his family was modest. Still, he owned a cottage on the outskirts of the village, ready for a bride to move in. His parents, too, were eager to align themselves with Williams family.
“Thomas, prepare yourself for marriage,” his father declared bluntly. “Ive settled on Eleanor, Williams girl. Shell make a fine wife.”
“Why her? Shes crooked and ugly. Id rather have Margaret,” the young man grumbled.
“No, son. Youll wed Eleanor. Their family has meansjust think of their horses. Beauty fades, but wealth doesnt,” his father replied.
The other suitor, Edward, was far from destitute but certainly not prosperous. Raised by his elderly mother, he had no house of his own.
“Where is your sense, Edward? The village will laugh at you. A beggar at a rich mans feast!” his mother fretted as he urged her to prepare his best clothes for courting. “And the girls no beauty.”
“No beauty? Mother, her eyes are blue as cornflowers, and her braid is like firelong and sharp. And what if she limps? I care not. Get readywere paying a visit.”
Sighing, she complied, thinking her Edward must have a heart large enough to see beyond appearances.
William, seasoned by years, was astonished to have two suitors. He knew his daughters looks would deter most. After speaking with both families, he leaned toward Thomas.
“But Father, I prefer Edward,” Eleanor murmured, eyes downcast. “We met by the lake last weekmy yoke broke, and he helped me at once. He was kind, and his eyes were warm. Thomas looks at me slyly, coldly.”
William shook his grizzled head. “Edwards never known comfort. Hed squander your dowry in no time. Thomas will give you a better lifehis family is respectable.”
Eleanor had no choice but to yield. Though her heart favored Edward, she dared not defy her father.
The wedding was swiftlest the groom reconsiderand within a month, the couple settled into their home. Eleanor, despite her flaws, was diligent, while Thomas lazed about with his books. Bred in a scholarly household, he had grown fond of reading.
“Have you ever read Milton, Eleanor? Or perhaps Dickens?”
“How dull you are,” he lamented. “What is there to discuss with you?”
“What is there? The pig pen needs mending, and the trough is too narrowthe swine spill their feed,” she replied.
“Always pigs and pens,” he scoffed. “Your father gave us horsestend to them yourself.”
So it went. Eleanor toiled from dawn to dusk while Thomas read and scorned her ignorance. When she sought help from his parents, she found no sympathy.
“Let him read,” her mother-in-law shrugged. “Women are strongyoull manage. Else hell find a prettier wife soon enough.”
And he did. By night, he crept through the garden to Margaret, who welcomed his advances. Soon, the village buzzed with gossip. Before long, Thomas made no secret of his disdain.
“At least Margaret and I can talk. You? Youre barren. A useless wife.”
That cut deepest. An heir was expectedby his parents, by him, by her. Yet no child came. Perhaps her endless labor was to blame.
Often, she thought of Edward and wondered how life might have been had she followed her heart. Then, by chance, she met Edwards mother, who stirred old longings.
“After William refused him, Edward left for the city,” the old woman confessed as she scrubbed rugs by the lake. “He trained as a veterinarian but never married. He was heartbroken, though Ill admitI urged him toward Margaret. I didnt know then what a good woman you were.”
Eleanor steadied herself on the slippery dock.
“He wrote that hes being assigned hereplans to fix up the cottage,” the woman added, oblivious to Eleanors trembling.
*If only I could see him, just once…* Eleanor flushed at the thought. How could she, a married woman, entertain such notions?
Then life spiraled. Margaret bore Thomass child, and the village buzzed with pity and mockery.
“Dont blame me, Eleanor,” Thomas said coolly. “A man needs heirs. Since you cant provide them, Ill send you back to your father.”
“But Thomaswere wed! What will the village say?”
“Thats no concern of mine. Pack your things.”
Weeping, she slipped through the fields to her fathers house. William was furious but powerlessespecially when he found Margaret lounging in Eleanors place. Spitting in disgust, he left.
The village clucked and moved on. Then came fresh news: Edward had returned. Dressed in city fashion, with a cane and hat, he seemed from another world. The villagers scoffed at his “walking stick” but envied his elegance.
“Im home, Mother,” Edward said, embracing her.
“For good?” she asked, wiping tears.
“For good. Ive been assigned to open a veterinary station here. Well fix up the cottage. Now, tell me the village news.”
Though now a gentleman, Edward still worked with his hands. By day, he treated livestock; by evening, he repaired roofs and fences.
“You need a good wife,” his mother said as he fitted a new door handle.
“The city girls are hollowpretty but soulless,” he shrugged.
She pursed her lips. “Thomas Steed cast off his wife, saying she was dull. Now youre just as fussy.”
“Thomas? The schoolmasters son? I thought his wife had died.”
“Nohe sent Eleanor packing. Brought in Margaret instead. William took his girl back, poor crippled thing.”
Edward nearly dropped his hammer. “Sent her away?”
“Indeed. But whod want her nowbarren and lame?”
“Dont speak of her so! If Thomas doesnt want her, Ill marry her myself.”
“God forbid! Shes uselessbut its your life…”
The next day, Edward called on William. This time, as a respected man, he hoped for a yesand Eleanor, now a “spinster,” might have a say.
William welcomed him warmly, and when Edward stated his purpose, the old man nearly wept.
“Edward, Edward… Had I let her choose you years ago…” He sighed. “If Eleanor agrees, marry her next Saturday. Whod take a castoff now? Ill help with the costs. Eleanor! Edwards come for you.”
She swayed in the doorway, then nodded quickly.
“Then its settled,” William said, rubbing his hands. “Fetch the elderberry wine!”
Soon, Eleanor was settled in Edwards cottage. The village murmured, then forgotwho would scorn the veterinarian they relied on? And when Edward brought her spectacles and a fashionable hat, even the sharpest tongues bit back, addressing her as “Mrs. Thompson” with respect.
Before long, Eleanor was with childnot one, but twins. Edward spoke of medical explanations, but she cared little. After years of hardship, she had found happiness at last, though the path had been long and winding.
