Reborn

It must have been a lonely few years for Francis Sr after his wife Mary passed away. Fortunately he had his work to occupy him. And no doubt, he had good friends in Hobart his own age. It had a substantial ex-pat community for good reason. It was a splendid place to retire. Living was cheap, vastly cheaper than London, and the climate was superb.

1887: Resurrection

No doubt Francis made daily forays to Hobart’s Empire Club — getting a spot of lunch, ordering a port with his London Times and chatting it up with other Old Warhorses. Speaking of Old War Horses, I suspect he was friends with Major-General John Newbold Wilson at the Club, famous for his exploits in the India Regiment. Well, speak of the devils, there they are, over by the window, swapping yarns by the look of it. Let’s slip over and listen in…

The Major-General: “Yes, those were bloody good years with the regiment. Certainly, living conditions were challenging for my Mary, poor soul. But she got on with it and no harm came of it. And as you know, one makes fast friends in those places. It was as they say, ‘the best of times.’”

Francis replies: “I dare say it was good experience for your Emily too. Situations like that build strong characters, adults who are self-reliant, speak their mind and know the value of hard work and a principled life. Emily has all of those qualities John. I greatly admire your daughter for that. And you and Mary too, for that matter, for the remarkable job you’ve done shaping her to be the outstanding woman she is today. Well done, old chap.”

“Why thank you Francis. You’re very kind…..you know she greatly admires you too. She has told me so. It must be a bit lonely for you with Mary gone. Have you considered remarrying?”
“I confess I hadn’t until recently.”
For a moment, nothing is said. Both the men seem uncomfortable with what they know must come next.
“John, I…I feel very awkward asking you this, but I feel I must. As you know, Emily and I have been spending a lot of time together over the last few months. She is such a delightful young woman that I feel born again in her presence.

I have deep feelings for her John, and she has expressed deep feeling for me in return. This is dreadfully difficult for me to say, as she is your daughter and so much younger than me….

John, I am asking you for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“And Emily wishes it also?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then so shall it be, old boy. She will be a devoted and loving wife to you Francis. And better that than a loving daughter forever in my household, what? Let us toast the occasion. I must refrain from the liquor. Methodist, you see.

Waiter! One of your best brandies for my friend here and tea for me. We have cause to celebrate.”

Post script:

Married they were on the 16th of August, 1887. Francis was sixty-two, his bride twenty-seven. They had barely three years together before Francis died in June, 1890.