Her family had hosted a feast in his honor for which they had taken weeks to prepare: with braised capons and lobster sausages and all sorts of delicious spiced stews her mother had made from secret recipes. She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who cared to listen, to be so very particular. All her pride raged at me. "That's for myself," rejoined Mrs. Tom swore he hadn't set eyes on him since the trial. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. It was Ennison who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued. . Her head swam. But I don’t suppose you can understand.
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