MURIEL’S HAPPINESS WAS complete when, in December, MacDonagh was offered a position as an English lecturer in the National University, a position that he had so craved. He immediately accepted it.
‘This means we can get married without delay,’ he said excitedly. ‘Now my income should be sufficient to support a wife and family. You will be marrying a respected lecturer in the English department instead of a poor teacher. Let’s organize our wedding and marry straight away if that is what you want.’
‘You know that is what I want,’ she replied, hugging him and holding him close.
Father and Mother congratulated him when he told them about his appointment. Mother was an inveterate snob and Muriel knew that having a son-in-law who was a lecturer in the university sounded far better than a teacher!
Theirs would be a small wedding at the start of the new year. Mother was upset that the wedding would be held in the local Catholic Church on Beechwood Avenue.
‘Why can’t it be in our church where we always worship?’ she persisted.
‘Because this is what Thomas and I have agreed,’ said Muriel firmly, refusing to budge.
‘Then promise me that you will not convert,’ Mother urged. ‘I could not bear it.’
‘Mother, I will follow my own beliefs,’ Muriel reassured her.
The MacDonagh family were finding the fact that Thomas was marrying a non-Catholic difficult too. His older sister Mary – the nun Sister Francesca – though she was delighted for them, had expressed her concerns and reservations about their religious differences when Muriel went to see her.
‘Our wedding will be a small affair,’ Muriel told her with a smile, ‘but we hope both families will attend.’
MacDonagh talked about continuing to live in Grange House Lodge in Rathfarnham once they were married, but while Muriel liked visiting the remote countryside lodge, she could not imagine it being their home.
‘It is so quiet and peaceful here,’ he enthused, ‘and the rent is very manageable.’
‘But it is too quiet, too peaceful and far too lonely,’ she said ruefully. ‘I like visiting the lodge when you are here and there are friends calling and visiting, but what about when you are away?’
MacDonagh was the type of man who couldn’t sit still and was always busy and active, involved in all sorts of things that took him away from home. She considered the cottage much too isolated a place to live.
‘I would be far too nervous to stay here alone, surrounded by woods and fields,’ she explained. ‘What if we had a child – how would I manage?’
MacDonagh wrapped her in his arms protectively and promised her that they would find somewhere else to live closer to town, the university, their friends and family.
They found a perfect little flat on Upper Baggot Street, one of Dublin’s busy areas, above Hayes, Conyngham & Robinson’s chemist. They had a large sitting room, a tiny kitchen, a good-sized bedroom and a cold, leaky bathroom on the landing.
Despite her objection to their marriage, Mother was curious to see where they were going to live, so Muriel brought her to see the flat. She was nervous, making sure that everything was clean and tidy as her mother inspected their first home.
‘It is charming – better than I expected. You have good taste, Muriel, and no doubt will soon furnish it and make it your own.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, delighted with her mother’s rare compliment.
‘However, I could not help but notice that you are short of silver spoons and forks and servers. There are plenty at home. Also, there are lots of things in the china cupboard that I will not use again. Perhaps they may be of use to you and Thomas when you are entertaining. I will let you have them if you wish.’
‘Thank you, that would be lovely, Mother.’
‘Some of the plates and dishes are from your grandmother’s side of the family,’ Mother went on. ‘I would like to see someone in the family use them.’
Muriel smiled. Perhaps MacDonagh had been right. In time Mother would come round and learn to accept their marriage.
The night before her wedding, Muriel read and re-read MacDonagh’s latest letter. She loved the way he constantly wrote to her, expressing his true feelings in a way most men never would. His words were always heartfelt and romantic.
‘Tomorrow begins life for us … my darling.’
She loved him so much and could hardly believe that in only a few short hours they would make their vows and be husband and wife.
She wore a cream lace dress with a warm, lined matching jacket and a pearl and floral headpiece with a short veil.
‘You look wonderful!’ exclaimed Grace, passing Muriel her wedding posy, which was tied with a blue ribbon.
‘Topping!’ grinned her brother Gabriel.
‘You look like a film star,’ John gushed as she dressed for church.
‘You are a beautiful bride, Muriel dear,’ Father said as they drove in the carriage to the church. He squeezed her hand when they saw MacDonagh nervously waiting there for her. He was dressed in his kilt, just as they had planned. Padraig was to be his best man, but she could see no sign of him.
Mother, in her grey wool suit and hat, sat ramrod straight in her pew in the church, as if the very devil were about to attack her.
Father walked Muriel slowly up the aisle as the organist played. They could wait no longer for the best man, so Canon Hogan asked a parish workman to stand in his place. When Muriel repeated her marriage vows and gazed into MacDonagh’s serious grey eyes she knew this was the happiest day of her life and that she was marrying the man she truly loved.
MacDonagh slipped the wedding ring on to her finger as they promised to love each other for the rest of their lives.
They enjoyed a small wedding breakfast in the Russell Hotel then went to Woodenbridge in Wicklow, where they stayed for five days on their honeymoon. The weather was cold and damp but neither of them cared as they walked and talked and sat by a blazing turf fire, and fell even more in love.