‘ONLY SUBMIT’

When Sir William and Clorinda Morrissey arrived back from Dublin, in the early evening, they were surprised to be greeted at the front door of 28 Henrietta Street by Valentine Ross and Jane, who drew them into the parlour where a bottle of ruby port and four glasses had been laid out.

The tired travellers were touched by this. Port wine was just the thing to revive their spirits and they began to sip it gratefully, but it wasn’t long before they understood that the wine had not been opened just to sustain them; it had been opened to celebrate something much more momentous.

Watched very intently by Jane, Ross stood up, took a fortifying draught from his glass and said, ‘we have some news which we hope you will celebrate with us. I have decided not to make my planned journey to Borneo. Indeed, nothing would induce me to make it now. For my circumstances have changed for the glorious better! Two weeks ago, while you were away, I took my courage into my hands and asked Jane if she would consent to become my wife – and Jane has agreed.’

Mrs Morrissey – once witness to the failed proposal in her tea room – let out a gasp. Sir William put down his glass of port and opened his arms, as if to embrace the gallant finishers in a long and arduous race.

‘My word!’ he said. ‘You could not have told me anything I would rather hear. Come and kiss your father, Jane, and my dear Ross, come and shake my hand.’

They did this, and in the next moment decided upon the kind of collective embrace not often to be seen in any Victorian parlour, and during which, finding himself the object of so much affection and rejoicing, Valentine Ross had a sudden fear that he was going to embarrass himself by breaking into tears.

As the little group separated once more, Clorinda Morrissey said, ‘There were we, under grey skies in Dublin, not knowing one single thing about the sunshine falling here. It would have cheered us so much, would it not, William?’

‘Indeed it would. But it is also a wonderful homecoming.’

‘I’m aware, Sir William,’ said Ross, ‘that strictly speaking, I have not done things in the right order. I should have asked your permission for Jane’s hand first, before approaching her. But what can I say? The moment arrived and had to be seized, did it not, Jane?’

‘Yes,’ said Jane calmly. ‘The moment arrived.’

‘Of course it did,’ said Sir William, ‘of course it did! Just like my reckless embrace of Clorinda, somewhere between the street and the threshold of her tea room, and this is how life is: we are overtaken by flashes of lightning and brilliant storms, and we can only submit.’

Jane took in this statement of her father’s and, alone in her narrow bed in Henrietta Street that night, felt that it described quite accurately her relationship with Valentine Ross. Except that he alone – and not she – was the one who had been invaded by a great and turbulent passion.