You used to wear about your throat.
And of this pale—this perished thing,
I think I know its threads by rote.
God help such love, to hold your hand,
To lunger where your feet might fall,
You marvellous girl! my soul would stand
The worst of hell—its fires and all.
On July 16th, 1873, the marriage between John Henniker Heaton and Rose Bennett took place at St James's Church, Sydney.
No one who knew John Heaton intimately could doubt that he owed much of his success to the happiness of his married life, where he found in his wife the sympathy and companionship that is so essential to a public man. Those meeting Lady Heaton for the first time little dreamed of the depth of character that lay beneath her gracious gentle manner. Her sincerity of heart, her loyalty to friends and her intense love of truth won the respect of all her circle. Her sound critical judgment was greatly valued by her husband, who never wrote an article or prepared a speech without referring it to her opinion.
On her advice he would leave out what he described as "the best part of all," but when results had justified the omission he was the first to acknowledge its wisdom. Sir John and Lady Henniker Heaton remained lovers all their life: when separated, not a day passed without an interchange of letters; and he spoke of her always as "my dear little wife."
During the early years of their married life John Heaton nearly succumbed to an attack of typhoid fever. Hope was given up by the doctors, and in consequence of a premature notice of his death in the
