The days following the proposal by Ethan were soft and this Christiana cherished. They were in love, but their love was not bound in silks and not hedged by high walls; it was enwrapped with something much richer, peace. In the morning the sun would creep into their small window and shine upon their wooden floor where their shoes reclined next to each other. They got up early, their hands hardened by labour, but they greeted every day with smiling faces more eloquent than any words could be.
Ethan was working in the shed of the carpenter, stooping to make the wood into tables and chairs to be used by people in the town who would be impressed by his constant workmanship. Christiana, soft, but tough enough, was a baker of bread at the small town bakery, and her laughter could be heard all the time, as she offered warm loaves to adorable children.
Their coin purse seldom became heavy; but their hearts. In the evening they would have their meetings on the small bridge over the stream. Ethan would lean his weary head on the shoulder of Christiana and she would hum....a song that required no words.
Nevertheless, amidst the happiness, there were some dark traditions. On some of these nights Ethan stopped and looked at Christiana like he was wondering whether he was good enough. One day he said, I wish I could give you more, and that is what he said when they were having a bowl of stew together.
Christiana smiled, and ran the fingers of her cheek over his. You have bought me more, than wealth can buy, Ethan. You have provided me with love, truth and peace. Never say you have not taken little of me.
Her words bore him away, and he trusted them, though he was at times pulled at by suspicion.
In the cold mansion, which was far off, the parents of Sophia became impatient. Even their daughter, who was the pride of their name, had descended into isolation. She no longer flaunts through parties or illuminated rooms with her beauty. Her laugh was already sour, her eyes dim with remorse. Her mother used to hear her whispering about Ethan and getting up crying at night.
It was then her father spoke. One night he said, feeling heavy with regret, We turned away the wrong ones, Margaret. We took Sophia, and Ethan and Christiana were the ones who took the morals into this house was supposed to elevate. We must find them."
And, without any noise the two started their search. Not through servants, or announcements, but with their own aching legs. They enquired in the towns, talked to merchants, listened to the mumble of a couple who laboured hard and loved passionately though of low degree.
At the same time, Ethan and Christiana kept on blossoming in their minor delights. One Sunday evening, towards the end of a quiet day they went again to the hill, to the same spot which Ethan had suggested. Christiana leant forward against him, her scarf waving in the wind.
Do you suppose, do you suppose someday the world will remember us not as orphans, but just as Ethan and Christiana? she thought.
Ethan smiled, and he kissed her forehead. The name may be forgotten, Christiana, by the world. But not even then will I stop seeing you as I know you are, my future, my forever.
And to her light heart was she laughing.
That very starlit sky, of which they were unaware, it was under that that Sophia parents came into the little town. Their pace was tired, their garments were not so neat as they used to be, but in their hearts there was a new thing, humility.
The hunt was by no means finished, but luck was slowly drawing them together toward each other.