A very Victorian tale

In a certain part of old London there lived a doctor whose daughters were said to be the finest girls for miles around.

The eldest among them was especially remarked upon-a young woman with fair golden hair and bright blue eyes.

Then, one winter evening, she disappeared.

For many weeks there was much coming and going at the house. Neighbours arrived bearing cakes and preserves and speaking in softened voices. The mother received them quietly. The doctor thanked them with dignity.

But winter gave way to spring, and spring carried on toward May, and gradually the neighbourhood returned to its ordinary concerns.

Then, to the astonishment of the town, the daughter returned.

She gave little account of her absence beyond saying she had spent the intervening months in the company of a young man.

The town whispered.

The doctor and his wife exchanged glances.

Yet she was welcomed home.

People remarked that she had grown quieter.

Others thought she appeared distracted, or spoke with unusual care, as though choosing each word before she gave it away.

Yet no two people agreed upon what had changed, and most considered it natural enough. Time alters people, after all.

For a time, the matter seemed settled.

Then winter came again.

And the daughter vanished once more.

This time, when the neighbours knocked, the doctor and his wife remained standing in the doorway.

"She has gone away with her young man," they said.

And closed the door.