A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court HTML version

The Interdict
However, my attention was suddenly snatched from such matters; our child began to lose
ground again, and we had to go to sitting up with her, her case became so serious. We
couldn't bear to allow anybody to help in this service, so we two stood watch-and-watch,
day in and day out. Ah, Sandy, what a right heart she had, how simple, and genuine, and
good she was! She was a flawless wife and mother; and yet I had married her for no other
particular reasons, except that by the customs of chivalry she was my property until some
knight should win her from me in the field. She had hunted Britain over for me; had
found me at the hanging-bout outside of London, and had straightway resumed her old
place at my side in the placidest way and as of right. I was a New Englander, and in my
opinion this sort of partnership would compromise her, sooner or later. She couldn't see
how, but I cut argument short and we had a wedding.
Now I didn't know I was drawing a prize, yet that was what I did draw. Within the
twelvemonth I became her worshiper; and ours was the dearest and perfectest
comradeship that ever was. People talk about beautiful friendships between two persons
of the same sex. What is the best of that sort, as compared with the friendship of man and
wife, where the best impulses and highest ideals of both are the same? There is no place
for comparison between the two friendships; the one is earthly, the other divine.
In my dreams, along at first, I still wandered thirteen centuries away, and my unsatisfied
spirit went calling and harking all up and down the unreplying vacancies of a vanished
world. Many a time Sandy heard that imploring cry come from my lips in my sleep. With
a grand magnanimity she saddled that cry of mine upon our child, conceiving it to be the
name of some lost darling of mine. It touched me to tears, and it also nearly knocked me
off my feet, too, when she smiled up in my face for an earned reward, and played her
quaint and pretty surprise upon me:
"The name of one who was dear to thee is here preserved, here made holy, and the music
of it will abide alway in our ears. Now thou'lt kiss me, as knowing the name I have given
the child."
But I didn't know it, all the same. I hadn't an idea in the world; but it would have been
cruel to confess it and spoil her pretty game; so I never let on, but said:
"Yes, I know, sweetheart--how dear and good it is of you, too! But I want to hear these
lips of yours, which are also mine, utter it first--then its music will be perfect."
Pleased to the marrow, she murmured: