Throughout his seven years at L’Assomption, Laurier had concentrated on his studies, reading, and debating. There had been little time for outside interests. Certainly none for romance. L’Assomption had a very small population, and the school was for boys only. Wilfrid Laurier had never had a girlfriend.
But things changed during his first year at McGill. He was renting a room from Dr. Séraphin Gauthier and his wife Phoebé. Among their other boarders were a Mme. Lafontaine and her daughter, Zoë. Zoë taught piano, and also played extremely well. Many guests came Sunday afternoons to hear her play and to eat, talk, dance, and sing. Zoë, who was a few months older than Laurier, was rather shy, of slight build, with large hazel eyes and thick brown hair parted primly down the middle. It was her eyes that first attracted Laurier, and after a while, he found himself watching Zoë while she played and other guests gathered around her. One day when she was playing alone, she smiled at him. Summoning his nerve, Laurier went over and began to accompany her in his excellent singing voice. That was the beginning. Soon they sat together whenever Zoë was not playing the piano, or they escaped for long walks together. Laurier and Zoë had fallen in love.
She opened a whole new world of experience to him, and they came to care deeply for each other. As the months passed Laurier was happy in a way he had never been before and was content to go along as they were indefinitely.
But Zoë wanted more.
Wanting to be alone, they had slipped away from the Gauthiers’ Sunday afternoon social gathering and strolled to a nearby park. Holding Laurier’s arm, Zoë guided them to a bench.
She had been talking animatedly, but now she became silent. Worried, Laurier eased his arm from hers and turned to face her. “What is it Zoë?” he asked.
There was a long pause. Then, clasping his hands, she gazed into his eyes. “I… I love you, Wilfrid,” she faltered. “There will be no one else in my life. You know that – I know you do! And I believe that you love me too.” She blushed and dropped her eyes for a moment before she struggled on. “So why, oh why, have you never mentioned the word marriage?”
She could feel his fingers tighten. “But Zoë,” he stammered, “surely you know why.” Mutely, she shook her head. “What future would you have with me?” he went on. “There’s a good chance I have tuberculosis. That’s what took my mother’s life, and my sister’s, too. You know I have weak lungs and that I can’t walk very far without stopping to rest. You’ve been with me when I’ve gone through one of my coughing bouts. At least, thank heavens you’ve been spared from seeing me hemorrhage. Believe me, dear Zoë, I really have no idea how long I’m going to live.”
She opened her lips to protest, but he reached over and with one forefinger lightly touched them. “Wait, there’s more. It will be years before I make a good income, and a lawyer has no regular pay. Whenever I do open my own law office, I’ll have to wait and hope that clients come to me. Maybe someday in the distant future, I’ll be successful, but I can’t promise. That’s not enough to start a marriage on.”
“I know all that!” Zoë burst out. “But your health may improve as you age, Wilfrid. And of course we need money, but I believe in you. I just know you’ll attract clients! Anyway, I can help a little by teaching piano.”
She leaned forward and squeezed his hands. “What matters is that we love each other. Can’t we let love find a way?” she pleaded,
But Laurier was stubborn. Despite his love for Zoë, he for once could not see the other side of the question. Perhaps he feared that family cares would stand between him and his ambition. He refused to budge, and finally they stopped discussing the matter, for they realized it would lead only to bad feelings. Little by little, their relationship began to cool.
Laurier then left Montreal for L’Avenir. While he was getting settled in his new surroundings, he and Zoë wrote to each other, but their letters lacked feeling. Soon, Laurier knew he had a rival. He was Pierre Valois, a medical student who had met Zoë at the Gauthiers’ and quickly fallen in love with her. For some time, Zoë did not encourage Valois; she was hoping for a sign from Laurier that he had changed his mind.
But none came. He was living through disastrous times in L’Avenir and in Victoriaville and had lost in turn, his newspaper, his law practice, and his health. Even after he settled in Arthabaska and clients started to appear in his office, Laurier still feared the worst. Oh, he loved Zoë; that was not the question. But, compared to Valois, what did he have to offer her?
A year passed. During that time, they met during the few visits Laurier made to Montreal, and they wrote each other occasionally, but he remained stubbornly silent on the subject of marriage. Meanwhile, Pierre Valois was healthy and certain of success. He wanted Zoë as his wife. He was waiting impatiently for her positive reply At last, Zoë gave in. She agreed to marry Valois in May, 1868.
In January, she wrote to Laurier to tell him the news. Though he was half expecting it, he was shocked. Gloomily, he told himself he must deaden his feelings by work. Though she was the only woman he had held in his arms and kissed, the only woman he had loved, well, after all, he was only twenty-six. He would meet someone else… perhaps.
So he worked harder than ever. His name became better known and he was kept busy during the winter and early spring. In the late afternoon of May 12, he was working on a brief he would have to present in court in two days, when a telegram from Montreal arrived. The message was brief: “Come at once. A matter of urgent importance.” It had been sent by Dr. Séraphin Gauthier.
Laurier was puzzled. Surely there could be only one reason for Séraphin’s request. It had to do with Zoë. Her health? Not likely; if she had been sick, Séraphin would have said so. So what was the point of going to Montreal? Her wedding with Valois was only weeks away. He decided to ignore the telegram.
But he couldn’t forget it. For several hours he tried to work, but his thoughts fluttered back and forth. Should he…? Shouldn’t he…? Then a second telegram urging him to come arrived. At last Laurier decided. He couldn’t get Zoë out of his mind and heart. He had to go. There was just enough time to catch the midnight train.
After a sleepless night, exhausted, needing a shave, his clothes rumpled, he stumbled out of the train just before 8:00 a.m. Dr. Gauthier was waiting and whisked Laurier off to his office.
“Take off your shirt,” he ordered, “and get up on the examining table. I want to look at your chest.”
Laurier followed instructions during the examination. Then, as he began to button his shirt, Dr. Gauthier looked him directly in the eye.
“Wilfrid, I’ve examined you before, and what I see today makes me repeat what I’ve already told you. I can make a mistake, any doctor can, but I’m convinced you don’t have tuberculosis. Of course, as we both know, you do have weak lungs. These have caused you trouble, and I believe they will again. But they’re not going to kill you. What you do have is chronic bronchitis, and it can be controlled. I can’t promise you won’t have attacks in the future, but if you follow my advice, I’m sure you’ll live as long a life as the average person.”
Always gloomy about his health, Laurier found some comfort in what Dr. Gauthier had said. But he was also annoyed. Why this examination now? Why drag him to Montreal? Then Dr. Gauthier explained the reason for the telegram. Yes, of course, it was Zoë. She was badly upset – had been for several weeks. She could hardly sleep; when she did, she would burst into tears on waking. Séraphin and Phoebé were powerless to comfort her. Clearly Zoë did not want to go through with her marriage to Pierre Valois.
“And why, my dear Wilfrid?” Dr. Gauthier grasped Laurier’s shoulders with both hands. “Because, and she made this absolutely clear, she is hopelessly in love with you. So I have only one question to ask. If you’re in love with her, what are you going to do about it?” He stepped back and waited for Laurier’s reaction.
Laurier felt a sudden surge of joy, and all his doubts fell away. However brief his life with her might be, she loved him, and he loved her. It was time to take a chance. Though he said nothing, his face telegraphed his feelings to Dr. Gauthier. “Then, don’t waste another second, Wilfrid,” he urged. “Go to her. By now Phoebé has told her you’re here. She’ll be up.”
He led Laurier down the hall to the parlour. A few seconds later, a slightly bewildered Zoë appeared. They stared at one another, both hesitating. Then Zoë’s eyes filled and brimmed over. Laurier took her in his arms. As he held her close, with her head pressed against his chest, tears flowed silently down her cheeks.
At last, Laurier gently raised Zoë’s head and looked into her eyes. “If it’s not too late to make this proposal, I would like you to be my wife. Would you…?” Before he could finish, she reached up, brought his head closer, and pressed her lips against his.
The kiss was her answer. Then, sensing that she had the advantage, she wasted no time. Their marriage must take place that very day, she declared. For a second, Laurier was speechless, then a wide smile covered his face, and he chuckled. “Yes, my dear Zoë,” he agreed. “It will be today. We will not wait one day more.”
Could it be done in such a short time? It could, with the help of the faithful Gauthiers. In a flurry of activity, all the arrangements were made. By 8:00 that evening, Zoë and Laurier were standing before the priest in the Cathedral of Montreal. After a mass and the marriage ceremony, the bride and groom hurriedly left the church and raced by carriage to the station to catch the 10:10 train.
But they wouldn’t take it together. Laurier had to appear in court the following day in Arthabaska. And Zoë had not packed, and there was her piano… So after a long parting kiss, Zoë went back to the Gauthiers to join the others for the wedding supper and to spend her wedding night alone. In one week Laurier would return to Montreal to take her with him to start their new life together in Arthabaska.