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  [Illustration:

  C. P. NICHOLLS]




  _THE_

  OLD CHELSEA BUN-HOUSE.

  _A Tale of the Last Century._


  BY

  THE AUTHOR OF 'MARY POWELL.'


  See how the World its Votaries rewards!
  A Youth of Folly, an Old Age of Cards!
         *       *       *       *       *
  But trust me, Dears, Good-humour will prevail,
  When Airs, and Flights, and Screams, and Scoldings fail.
  Beauties in vain their pretty Eyes may roll,
  Charms strike the Sight, but Merit wins the Soul.

  POPE: _Rape of the Lock_.


  LONDON:

  Printed for ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE & CO.

  _25, Paternoster Row._

  1855.




[Illustration]




CHAPTER I.

_Lady Betty's Folly._


It is a sad Thing when a Lady of Quality, who has been a Toast in her
Youth, and has seen the white-gloved Beaux, as Mr. _Pope_ calls them,
bowing to her from the Pit, and kissing the scented Tips of their
Gloves to her in the Ring; who has flaunted at _Vauxhall_, and shone
in a Side-Box of the Opera-House in _Lincoln's Inn Fields_; has run
down _Handel_, and run after _Bononcini_; has had her gay Water-Parties
to _Jenny's Whim_, attended by Violins and Hautboys; and has brought,
not only her own Company, but her own Strawberries and Cherries to our
Bun-house, as if our own were not good enough; it is mortifying, I
say, when such a Lady of Quality falls into the sear and yellow Autumn
of Life, and finds herself a disregarded Thing, with no resources
but green Tea and Brag. And such is the Case with poor Lady _Betty
Spadille_.

How well I remember her, on the Occasion I have somewhat maliciously
alluded to, for it sticks in my Throat, arriving at our Bun-House in
her peach- Sacque, Mechlin Head, and red-heeled Shoes, the
Foreparts richly embroidered with Silver; loudly talking and laughing,
and turning her Head right and left, now to this Beau, now to t'other,
who fluttered round her with their clouded Canes and perfumed Wigs;
now bursting into what the _French_ People call _des grands Eclats de
Rire_, now flirting her Fan, or rapping it on the Shoulder of one of
the Ladies who accompanied her. Having just set my Mark, a Sprig of
Rosemary, in the midst of one of good Bishop _Atterbury_'s Sermons,
I thought within myself, "Is this a Creature that is formed for
Eternity?" Meanwhile, two tall Lacqueys, with immense Shoulder-Knots,
bore between them a great Hamper of _French_ Wine; while a little
black Page, in pale Blue, laced with Silver, tottered under the Fruit
from _Rogers's_; and certainly it was very fine. I never saw such
Strawberries and Cherries before nor since.

I did not think her a Belle of the first Order, setting her Rank and
Style aside. Her Shape was fine; her Hand and Foot delicately formed;
but she rolled her Eyes too much, and had too high a Colour. I don't
believe she painted. Altogether, she seemed in the very Flush of
Existence; as if she had never met with a Reverse, nor ever expected
one. She seemed to think "Let us Eat and Drink," without adding,
"To-morrow _we die_."

We had set our oval Walnut-wood Table under the umbrageous Shade of two
large Elms, and had spread it with one of our best Tablecloths. This
was superciliously removed by the two Footmen, who spread a Tablecloth
and Napkins they had brought with them. Our China Service and water
Caraffes they condescended to use. Meanwhile, the Boatmen brought
up a second Hamper, containing Ham, Tongue, Chicken, Sallet, and
other Matters: but the Footmen, I should mention, brought the Plate,
including not only silver Forks, but a silver Stew-Pan.

The gay Bevy having streamed hither and thither, making their humorous
and contemptuous Remarks, which were continually interspersed with,
"Oh, my _Lord_!" and, "Oh, Sir _Charles_!" at length settled down to
their Repast. There were three Ladies and four Gentlemen. Also, there
was a tall, slender Girl in Black, whom I concluded my _Lady's_ own
Woman, because she stood the whole Time, a little behind Lady _Betty_,
holding her Handkerchief and Scent-Bottle, watching her Eye, and
obeying her Commands, almost before spoken; notwithstanding which, my
_Lady's_ Lip was often put up, and such words as "Thou'rt strangely
slow ... Canst not hear me, Creature?" were muttered by her rosy mouth.

And there was pale Mr. _Fenwick_, sitting at his open Casement over the
Bun-Shop, Book in Hand, hearing, seeing, and silently noting all.

One of the Gentlemen was my Lord _Earlstoke_, (to whom the Town gave
Lady _Betty_,) a weak-eyed, puny Peer; another, Sir _Charles Sefton_,
all Fashion and Froth; a third, a handsome young Gentleman, whom they
called Mr. _Arbuthnot_: the fourth, who had the Wit and Sprightliness
of all the Rest, (for whereas they continually laughed, he continually
gave them Something worth laughing at,) was a lank, ungraceful,
undersized Personage, of olivander Complexion, with projecting Teeth,
quick, black Eyes, and a not unagreeable Physiognomy, though his
Figure was mean and almost Distorted. His Name was _Caryl_, which
I learned not at first, they were so given to address him by his
baptismal Name of _Paul_.

Then, for the Ladies, there was Lady _Mary_, my _Lord's_ Aunt, and the
Duenna of the Party; and Lady _Grace_, a sweet pretty Creature, but
empty and self-sufficient.

It might have been thought, that two able-bodied Men and a Foot-page
were Servitors enow for a Party of seven; but on the contrary,
they kept my younger Sister _Prudence_, who was then very pretty,
continually afoot, tripping to and from the House on one impertinent
errand or another, while I attended to the general Customers. At
length, coming up to me with a painful Blush on her Cheek, "_Patty_,"
says she, "do oblige me by changing Places, will you? I can't abide the
ways of these Quality, and give no satisfaction, and only get scoffed
at."

"Perhaps I may please them no better, _Prue_," said I, "however, I'll
try." And as I proceeded to take her Place, I heard Mr. _Paul_ (that's
to say, Mr. _Caryl_,) observe to Sir _Charles_, "Humph! we've lost
_Rachel_ and got _Leah_."

This was not over-civil; but I took no notice.

"Now then," cries Lady _Betty_, in high Good-Humour, "I'll make you
what we have called a _Petersham_ Chicken, ever since Lady _Caroline's_
Frolick. Here are seven of us, and here are seven Chickens, which must,
in the first Place, be finely minced; so let each take one." And while
every one was laughing and mincing their Chicken, she pulls off ever so
many diamond Rings from her white Fingers, and gives them to her Woman
to hold.

"Don't trouble yourself, my _Lord_," says she, carelessly, as he
stoops to pick up one she had let fall on the Grass, "_Gatty_ will
find it. Here, Child, take them all; and," (aside with a Frown), "be
sure you don't lose them. Now, _Pompey_! the spirit-Lamp; three pats
of Butter, and a Flaggon of spring Water. The only variation I make in
Lady _Caroline's_ cookery is to stew my Chicken in a silver Stew-Pan,
instead of in a China Dish, which might crack over the Lamp. Prithee,
_Pompey_, don't let the Grass grow under your Feet!"

Methought, if her Ladyship had been _obliged_ to cook her own Supper,
she would have considered herself demeaned by it very much: however,
there is nothing that Quality will not do for a Freak. By and by, she
gets tired of stewing her Chicken over the Lamp, and bids the young
Person she calls _Gatty_ to carry it in-doors and dress it over the
Fire. "And be sure, Child, not to let it burn." As I did not seem
wanted, I shewed Mrs. _Gatty_ the way to the Kitchen, and stood by
while she stirred the Stew-Pan over the Fire. "I'm ready to drop!"
says she, at length. "No wonder," said I, taking the silver Spoon from
her, and using it myself, "you have never once sat down since you
left the Boat, and 'tis the Dog-Days. Rest awhile, and I'll mind the
Chicken." "Thank you heartily," says she, dropping into a Seat, and
turning from Red to White, and then Red again. "May I take a draught
of this cold Water?" "Aye, and welcome," said I, "so that you're not
afraid of drinking it while you're so hot." "Oh, I'm not afraid," says
she, drinking plentifully of it, and setting down the Mug with a Sigh
of relief. "I'm better now, but there was such a glare upon the River."
"Are you her Ladyship's Woman?" said I. With that, she fetches a deep
Sigh; and, says she, "I'm no better, now, and a hard Life to me it is.
I am the Daughter of a poor Country Curate, who died and left a large
Family penniless: but my _Mother_, who married him for love, had high
Connections; so Lady _Betty_ takes me for her Woman, partly, as she
says, out of Charity, and partly because she prefers being served by
a decayed Person of Condition. I have twenty Pounds by the Year, and
indeed 'tis hardly earned." "That I can well believe," said I. "But
what can I do?" says she. "My _Lady_ has engaged to give me enough
cast-off Apparel, to keep me in Clothing; so that I shall be able to
send the twenty Pounds to my _Mother_." "There'll be some comfort to
you in doing that," said I. "The greatest of comforts," says she; "and
'tis that which keeps me up, in spite of hard Work, late Hours, and
contumely; for no one has a better and dearer Mother than I have."
"Well, the Chicken is done now," said I. "Shall I carry it out for
you?" "Oh no, I dare not remain behind," says _Gatty_; "but do you come
along with me, for you will make me feel less lonely." So I went with
her according to her wish; and when we came up to the Table, we found
Lady _Betty_ talking about her foreign Travels; for, it seemed she had
been abroad with my _Lord_ her _Father_, on some public Mission or
Ambassade, to this and the other distant Land, that had formerly been
the Seat of War. And, to my Fancy, she discoursed agreeably enough of
_Belgrade_, _Peterwaradin_, and _Prince Eugene_, though my Lord did
not seem to think so; for, once, he covered his Mouth with his Hand
to conceal a Yawn, not so adroitly but that my Lady perceived it; and
thereupon she immediately diverted her Conversation to Sir _Charles_,
and never spoke to his _Lordship_ another Word. The _Petersham_ Chicken
was too Gross, as 'twas like to be, with that monstrous quantity of
Butter: my Lady _Betty_ was annoyed, and said Mrs. _Gatty_ had oiled
it over the Fire, darting at her a side-look of Reproach. It was sent
away, and the Fruit set upon Table; and the Black Boy, producing a
Theorbo, sang foreign Airs while they finished their Repast. A brisk
encounter of Wits then ensuing between Mr. _Caryl_, Mr. _Arbuthnot_,
and Sir _Charles_, my _Lady_ presently found herself cut out;
notwithstanding she made one or two ineffectual efforts to recover the
lead; and extremely mortified that she should, even for a few Minutes,
be Second, she threw herself back in her Chair, called for Essences,
and bade Mrs. _Gatty_ support her to the House; protesting she had
the Vapours to that degree, that nothing but Seclusion and Repose
could restore her sufficiently to enable her to take Boat. The other
two Ladies, constrained to follow her, made wry Faces to one another
behind her Back, but accompanied her in-doors, leaving the Gentlemen
to saunter about, or sit over their Wine. Having entered our little
Parlour and made a prodigious fuss, till we were all in waiting on her,
"How horridly vapourish I feel!" cries she; "But what! Is that some
real Dragon China on the Mantel-Shelf? How did you come by it, Mrs.
_Patty_?"

I coldly replied, "My _Father_ bought it, _Madam_."

"And, those Josses and Mandarins," pursues she, "have positively the
appearance of being, nay, they _are_ genuine! What lovely _Chelsea_
China! These Shepherdesses fondling Lambs and Kids are nearly equal to
mine. Sure, can a Person of your _Father's_ Condition, Mrs. _Patty_,
afford to be a Virtuoso?"

"Had my _Husband_ not been a Virtuoso, _Madam_," says my _Mother_,
quietly looking up from making an _Hippocrates'_ sleeve for our Jelly,
"these Girls had never needed to keep a Bun-House." Which indeed, was
true enough, for my _Father_, who had been apprenticed to the first
Jeweller in _London_, might have commanded a flourishing Business,
and accumulated a Fortune, but for his unhappy Taste for Articles of
Virtu, which led him into connection with unprincipled Men of Quality,
who ran in his Debt, and would have run him through if he had dunned
'em; and that again led to his drowning Trouble in Intemperance. So
that, had not a Legacy, opportunely left to my dear _Mother_ for her
sole and separate use, enabled her to purchase our present House and
Business, for _Prudence_ and me, 'twould have fared ill with her and
with us, and with my poor _Father_ too. And hitherto, we had gone on so
steadily and respectably, that we had given general Satisfaction, and
notwithstanding our unprotected State (for my poor _Father_ was almost
worse than no Protection,) had kept good Names, and met with no Let nor
Hindrance.

Lady _Betty_, without vouchsafing more than a Stare at the Speaker of
the Words just addressed to her, turns her Head slowly round towards
me, and with more Haughtiness than I can describe, "Prithee, Mrs.
_Patty_," says she, "is that good Woman your _Mother_?"

Now certainly, to be a good Woman is the chief Merit of our Sex; and
to have it acknowledged that one whom we dearly love and reverence is
such, ought to be taken as a compliment, rather than the other way:
but yet I knew full well that Lady _Betty_ had not used this term
respectfully and kindly, but quite the reverse; wherefore I replied,
"Yes, _Madam_," very bluntly.

"How are the Men amusing themselves?" says she to Lady _Grace_, who was
looking out of the Window.

"Mr. _Caryl_ seems reading them a copy of Verses which diverts them
hugely," said Lady _Grace_.

"Odious Creature!" cried Lady _Betty_, forgetting all her Languor,
and fanning herself vehemently, "A Man of Letters is the very worst
possible Ingredient in a Party of Pleasure; he thinks of Nothing but
shewing himself off. I'll never invite another to a Folly. Sure 'tis
Time for us now to think of returning."

"Were we not to wait for the Moon?" says Lady _Grace_.

"If you particularly wish it, we will do so," says Lady _Betty_, "but I
really believe the evening Air on the Water will kill me."

"Oh, then the Moon will be too expensive a luxury," says Lady _Grace_,
"let us return at once by all means."

And the Black Boy was instantly sent to prepare the Gentlemen for the
reembarkation.

"Give me my Cardinal, Child," says Lady _Betty_ to _Gatty_. "Why,
what on Earth is the matter with your Hands? They are covered with a
Rash. Your Face, too, is as red as this Velvet. Huh! don't come near
me! Stay, let me rush into the open Air. You are sickening with some
infectious Complaint."

Poor _Gatty_ stood transfixed and aghast; Lady _Grace_ gave a little
Shriek, and ran to the door after Lady _Betty_; while the elder Lady,
less absurdly timorous, stood at pause, looking at the poor Girl, who
did, indeed, appear very much heated.

"You are really ill, I believe, young Woman," said she stiffly. "What
is to be done? You cannot go back with us in the Boat."

And following Lady _Betty_, she held a Dialogue with her in the open
Air.

"She can't come near me; she shan't come near me," cries Lady _Betty_
vehemently; and then the three Ladies talked under their Breath. At
length Lady _Mary_ returned.

"Young Woman," says she; "Dear me, Mrs. _Patty_, you are very
incautious, to hold her Hand that Way, with her Head resting on your
Neck; there's no knowing what she may communicate."

"I'm not afraid of her communicating any Harm, Madam," said I.

"I have come to ask you," resumes Lady _Mary_, "whether you know of any
decent Lodging, where this young Person may be placed till her Illness
declares itself one Way or another. I suppose there must be plenty of
People that would readily take her in."

"Indeed, Madam," said my _Mother_, again taking up the Word, "if the
Disorder be, as you seem to suppose, infectious, I do not see how
we can ask any of our Neighbours to incur the Hazard of it; but,
for myself, I am so little fearful of the Consequences, that I will
undertake the Care of Mrs. _Gatty_, if Lady _Betty_ wishes it, till, as
your _Ladyship_ says, her Illness declares itself one Way or another."

"An excellent Plan! extremely well thought of," says Lady _Mary_. "Of
course, Lady _Betty_ will remunerate you handsomely for your Trouble."

"And Risk," put in my _Mother_.

"And Risk," repeated Lady _Mary_; "though, I protest, I think there is
none; but that the young Woman has merely been overheated, and taken a
Chill upon it."

Though Lady _Mary_ spoke not sincerely, yet her expressed Opinion was
so much like my _Mother's_ real one, that the Arrangement was speedily
concluded. And then, after as much Fuss in departing as they had made
in arriving, these heartless Denizens of the Great World quitted us;
full of themselves, caring very little for each other, and least of all
for the poor Dependent left sick upon our Hands.

"Thank Goodness they're gone!" exclaimed _Prudence_, as the last Rustle
of Silk, and the last empty Laugh was heard.

"And now, where to bestow our young Charge?" said my _Mother_.

"Oh, how kind you are to me!" said _Gatty_; Tears rolling down her
Cheeks. "Any Place will do."

"I think _Prudence_ must sleep in the little Closet beyond my Chamber,"
said my _Mother_, "and then, _Patty_, you can share your Bed with Mrs.
_Gatty_. You are not afraid, Child, are you?"

"_Afraid, Mother?_ No!"




[Illustration]




CHAPTER II.

_Mrs. Patty & Mrs. Gatty._


The Bed and Night-Clothes were soon prepared; and as I helped Mrs.
_Gatty_ to undress, I could not help noting, that though her Gown was
of the plainest black Stuff, her under Garments were beautifully Fine,
and fitted to a Nicety; which corroborated what she had said of her
being a young Woman of good Condition. "You must not alarm yourself,
Mrs. _Gatty_," said I; "you will very likely be quite well to-morrow."

"Don't call me Mrs. _Gatty_," says she. "Call me _Gertrude_, which is
my proper Name, and it will put me in Mind of Home."

"Well, then, Mrs. _Gertrude_," said I.

"Not Mrs. at all, I entreat of you," said she, "plain, simple
_Gertrude_."

"Simple _Gertrude_, you may be," said I, "but plain _Gertrude_, you
certainly are not."

She smiled faintly, and said, "Ah, you are very Kind, and mean kindly;
but the finest Compliment in the World is of little Value to me,
compared with a Word of Kindness: and yours only pleases me so far as
Kindness is expressed in it. And now, dear Mrs. _Patty_, let down the
Curtain, and make the Chamber as dark as you can, and I will try to
sleep; for my Head aches to Distraction, and there is Nothing you can
do for me."

When I went down Stairs, I found my _Mother_ mentioning _Gatty's_ Case
to Dr. _Elwes_, who frequently stepped in to smoak a quiet Pipe under
our Elms. He immediately went up Stairs to see her; and was guarded in
pronouncing whether she had a Fever, a Chill, a Surfeit, or what; but
said Time would disclose, and he would see her again in the Morning.
Meanwhile, she was to be kept Cool and Quiet; and he would write a
Prescription for a Composing Draught; which accordingly he did.

"And now, with respect to Supper," said I, when he was gone. "Dear me!
who has thought, all this Time, of Mr. _Fenwick_?"

No one had remembered him; so I immediately carried up his Whey and
Buns, smote to the Heart at his having been so entirely overlooked.
When I went in, he was still sitting at the Casement. He said, "Well,
_Leah_!" with a gentle Smile, which assured me that he had heard and
remembered what had passed at Lady _Betty's_ Table.

"Dear Sir," said I, "I am quite sorry you should have been so long
forgotten. We have had such a noisy Party this Afternoon."

"Rather tumultuous certainly," said he; "they helped to amuse me, and
it was not my Fault that I heard every Word they said."

"How loudly High-Bred People laugh and talk, Sir!" said I.

"I doubt if it be High-Breeding to do so," said he; "Ill-Breeding it
seems to me."

"What did you think, Sir, of Mr. _Caryl_? Mr. _Paul_, as they called
him?"

"Well, I thought he tried to serve the _Petersham_ Chicken with
_Walpole_ Sauce."

"He was very smart and ready, Sir, wasn't he?"

"Yes, Mrs. _Patty_, he had plenty of Repartee."

"What is a Repartee, Sir?"

"A smart Reply. When Mr. _Pope_, who was deformed, asked a young
Officer if he knew what a Note of Interrogation was, the other replied,
'A little crooked Thing that asks Questions.' That was a Repartee."

"A very ill-natured One, though, Sir. When Sir _Charles_ said of the
unfortunate Emigrant _Lady_, 'That Woman deserves a Crown,' and Mr.
_Paul_ rejoined, that he had not a Crown to lay at her Feet, but he had
Half-a-Crown very much at her Service: was that a Repartee?"

"Yes, it was suggested by the Remark of the First, and could not have
been prepared. You have culled a Grain of Wheat, Mrs. _Patty_, from a
Bushel of Chaff."

"You thought Lady _Betty_ a great Beauty, I suppose, Mr. _Fenwick_?"

"Well, she is what is called a Fine-Woman, I believe. Fine Eyes, and
Teeth; good Carriage of the Head."

"Oh Sir! had you seen her toss that Head at my poor _Mother_! 'Twas as
much as I could stand!"

"I am glad, then, that I did not. She has Wit, however, but is too
artificial, flighty, and exacting. There's a degree of Coarseness
about her. 'Twas so humorous, to hear her trying to recover her
Supremacy in that Dialogue among the Men, when she began once and again
'When I was at _Peterwaradin_,' and no one was listening to her!"

"Except you and me, Sir. Well, I must not keep you from Supper."

"Nor must I keep you standing. How are you going to manage about Mrs.
_Gatty_?"

"She's going to sleep with me, Sir; if I sleep at all, that is."

"You expect a restless Night."

"I doubt if I shall lie down if she continue as she is."

"If you are going to sit up, you will require Something to keep you
awake. Shall I find you a Book to read?"

"Do, if you please, Sir; I shall gratefully thank you!"

"Well then, what will you have? You know I have no Novels. Here is a
charming Paper of Mr. _Addison's_, in one of the old _Spectators_,
which I was reading when you came in. '_Cheerfulness preferable to
Mirth._' How well it opens! 'I have always preferred Cheerfulness to
Mirth. The latter I consider as an Act, the former as a Habit of the
Mind.'"

"That will not take long in reading, Sir. Might I have one of
_Shakspeare's_ Plays? I liked the _Merchant of Venice_ so much!"

"Certainly you may. Did you like _Romeo and Juliet_?"

"Not at all, Sir."

"Come, then, here is the _Winter's Tale_ for you. Or stay, here is
_Cymbeline_. You will like much of it, though not all; for you have
as nice a Taste in Books, Mrs. _Patty_, as your _Father_ has in old
China. _Imogen_ is one of the purest, loveliest Creations of the Poet.
When you get tired of her Companions, turn the Leaf till you come to
her, and you won't fall asleep. Her two Brothers, too, in the Cave,
are charming. What a fine Lesson is given here, in a mere passing Word
of the Physician to the Queen, against Cruelty to dumb Animals! She
tells him she experimentalizes with Poisons on Creatures not worth the
hanging; and he tells her she hardens her Heart, and proceeding from
low degrees to higher, will become careless of inflicting pain and
death on superior Natures. Here it is, Mrs. _Patty_."

I took the Book, curtseyed, and withdrew; thinking that this little
Dialogue with the good young Curate after the Noise and Babble of Lady
_Betty's_ Party, was like gazing on cool Green, after one's Eyes had
been dazzled by garish Sunshine. Since he had lodged with us, to drink
fresh Whey and recover his Health, I, being the elder and plainer
Sister of the two, had principally waited upon him; though I seldom
encroached so much on his Leisure as on this Evening, which I partly
ventured on, because I felt I had neglected him during the Afternoon.

Mrs. _Gatty_ passed a restless Night, and rambled a good deal, fancying
herself at Home, or what I concluded such; and talking of, and to her
Kinsfolk and Intimates by name. What with attending to her and reading
my Play-Book, I got not much Rest; but towards Day-Break, she became
Quiet; so then I had a good Nap, with my Cloathes loosened, but not
off, and awoke refreshed, just in time to go and see the Milk and Bread
sent out, which was my daily Duty.

Our's had become a large Concern. At first, we only sold Bread and Buns
to those who came to the Shop; then we got on to having two Carts, that
went into Town twice a Week; then Whey was wanted, and we had a Cow;
but the Cow was not in Milk all the Year round, so then we had two; and
then we kept their Calves, _Prue_ and I undertaking to bring them up
by Hand; and the pretty Creatures grew so fond of us, that they would
run round the Meadow after us if we but held out our Finger to them. In
short, our Milk and Whey became in such repute, that we got on from two
Cows to six, and at length to Twelve, and had the largest Milk-walk in
the neighbourhood. Our man _Andrew_, who was from _Devonshire_, looked
after the _Dairy_; and _Saunders_, who was a _Scot_, was our Baker;
but a Mistress's Eye is worth two Pair of Hands; and one Reason of
our Success was undoubtedly that we looked closely after our Business
ourselves, no matter how much Money was coming into the Till.

Dr. _Elwes_ used to say, that he never knew better Samples of a genteel
Industry than in our Establishment; but doubtless, the good _Doctor's_
Judgment was somewhat biassed by his Partiality for my dear _Mother_;
whom, I am bold to think, if he had known her before she was married,
and before he himself had risen from the Ranks, (if one may say so of
a Civilian,) he would have gladly made his Wife. What a different Lot
for my poor _Mother_! But then, the whole Story of our Lives would have
been altered, and the Divine Purposes quite otherwise manifested; and
my poor _Father_ would have gone down the Stream, with ne'er a Hand
held out to draw him towards Shore.

Just as I was booking the Loaves put into the Carts, up rides Mr.
_Arbuthnot_ on a mighty fine Horse. He was, as good Mr. _Matthew Henry_
says of _Prince Adonijah_, a pretty, comely young Gentleman; and he
lighted down, and gave his Bridle to _Peter_, and stept up to me, to
inquire how fared Mrs. _Gatty_, saying that he hoped to make himself
welcome to Lady _Betty_ by carrying good news, therefore had ridden to
_Chelsea_ before Breakfast. I replied she had had a disturbed Night,
but was then sleeping; on which, having not much more to say, and
seeing me busied, he went his ways.

Just then, my _Mother_ called over the Stair-Head, in rather an
agitated Voice, to inquire whether my _Father_ had yet got his Dish
of strong green Tea; and knowing that he had come Home somewhat
convivial in the Middle of the Night, and was likely to be troubled
with Head-Ache, low Spirits, and Ill-Humours this Morning, I hastily
went into the back Parlour. But there was dear _Prudence_ already at
her Post, fresh as a Primrose, with the Tea brewed, and the Table
spread with a tempting variety of Meats, fresh Eggs, and hot Rolls, not
one of which had my poor _Father_ the Appetite to taste, but sat with
trembling Hands, endeavouring to pour the Cream into his Tea without
spilling it. On my coming in, he looks up and says:--

"Have those Rascals brought the Hamper yet?"

"What Hamper, _Father_?"

"Why, a Hamper and Packing-Case of _Chelsea_ China I bought at the
Auction-Rooms yesterday."

"Alas, _Father_, have you been buying more China?"

"Yes, I have, Miss _Patty_, more by Token, I bought it as a Compliment
to your _Mother_, and outbade my Lord _Fribble_; so what have you to
say to that now?"

"Dear _Father_, my _Mother_ will feel the compliment; but, had you let
it alone, 'twould have been the greater Kindness."

"That's a Solecism, _Patty_; but here comes _Peter_ with the Case; and
here comes your _Mother_ to see it unpacked."

As 'twas no use to cross him about a Thing that was done, I ran to be
my dear _Mother's_ "live Walking-Stick;" and when I had settled her
in her Easy-Chair, with all her little Comforts about her, she takes
Breath, and says to my _Father_, "Good Morning, my Dear."

"Good Morning, my Dear," replies he; "this is our Wedding-Day;" and got
up, and kissed her.

This was so unlike his usual Mood, that _Prudence_ and I were
surprised and touched.

"I dare say now," pursues he, "that you had forgot it?"

"Oh no, Mr. _Honeywood_,--my Dear, I mean," says my _Mother_, wiping
her eyes, "I remembered it before I got out of Bed--and the last thing
overnight, too. I'd no Notion your Memory would be so good, my dear."

"Well," says he, "it seems we each did the other Injustice, this
Time--a good Thing if we never do so any more. But I remembered it
yesterday, and bought you a little Trifle, in Token of it."

"I am sure I am much obliged to you, my Dear," says my _Mother_. "Pray
what is it?"

"You shall see what you shall see--you shall see what you shall see,"
repeats he very deliberately, proceeding to take the Silver Paper off
sundry little Figures, as _Peter_ disengaged them from the Straw--"The
five Senses, my Dear--the greatest Bargain I ever knew."

My poor _Mother_ lifted up her Hands and Eyes. "At your old Tricks
again, Mr. _Honeywood_," said she softly.

"Old Tricks!" repeated he, with the Air of an injured Man; "why, these
are the most exquisite little Gems you ever saw! A Nobleman could not
make a more delicate Present to his Mistress.--Look at this charming
little Creature stroking her Lapdog ... and this high-bred Toast
taking a Pinch of Snuff, this Lady of Quality sipping Tokay, and this
Opera-belle ready to swoon with Extasy at _Bononcini_--where are your
Eyes, my Dear?"

"Ah, Mr. _Honeywood_, you know the old Saying, 'Please the Eye and
plague the Heart.'"

"Plague my Heart, then!" cries he in rising Dudgeon, "if you are not
the most hard to please of any Woman alive. Why, a Peer bade against
me!"

"My Dear, I wish the Lot had been knocked down to him. These are
suitable Toys for a Personage of that Condition, but not for us. Why,
now, I venture to say this Set cost you five and twenty Pounds, at the
lowest Figure."

"Five and twenty? You may add Something to that. Why, Mrs. _Honeywood_,
you must be a Dolt, to know their Value no better than that, or else
you are saying so to incense me!"

"Indeed, my Dear, I have learnt the World's Value for such Things but
too well, by having to pay for them so often. Are these paid for?"

"Confusion, Madam! Do you mean to doubt my Honour?"

"Why really, Mr. _Honeywood_, you have so little ready Money except
what is earned by these poor Girls, that I might be excused for asking.
And in Truth I do not feel it so much of a Compliment as I could wish,
to have Presents bought to gratify your own Taste, which you know do
not suit mine, and after all, be obliged to pay the Bill."

"This is Language I will stand from no Woman."

"Nay, Mr. _Honeywood_, just look at those Shepherdesses on the
Mantel-Shelf, and say if it were not so with them...." ... (Smash went
the Shepherdesses.)

"The Senses shall go next," cried he, "if you say another Word! Don't
cling to me, _Patty_! They shall."

"Dear _Father_, my _Mother_ is not going to say another Word. Pray be
calm."

"I protest..." begins my _Mother_.

"Dear _Mother_, pray don't--_Father!_ _Father!_ Pray withdraw--as a
Favour!"

"What! be turned out of the Room like a chidden Child? Your _Father_,
Mrs. _Patty_? I'll sit here till Dinner, I vow. _Prue_, fetch me the
Daily Courant, and a clean Pipe."

"It has not come in yet, _Father_."

"Hang it! everything is out of joint! I shall go to the _Trumpet_, in
_Sheer Lane_, and you won't hear of me again, any of you, for a good
While."

_Prue_ and I tried to stay him, but in vain. My _Mother_ was shedding
silent Tears.

"Heaven forgive me," said she, "if I spoke too warmly, or crossly.
After his Kiss, and all! it seemed so ungracious to take it amiss. But
I know too well, he only used our Wedding-day as a Blind, and if he
gets into these old Ways again, he will not merely end his own Days
in Jail, but send you there too. So that protest I must, if I hadn't
another Breath to draw!"

About Noon, Mr. _James_, one of Lady _Betty's_ laced Footmen, came
to inquire after a Diamond Ring her Ladyship said _Gatty_ must have
dropped on the Grass. We looked for it carefully, but could not find it.

"I dare say we shall find that my _Lady_ has it at Home all the While,"
says Mr. _James_ (which, indeed, proved afterwards to be the Case).
"However, if it should not turn up, Woe to poor Mrs. _Gatty_! She will
lie under awful Blame for Heedlessness, if not be counted a Thief. And
pray how is Mrs. _Gatty_ this Morning? we Servants are all concerned
for her, she is so gentle and pretty-behaved, though she does keep us
at a Distance! I wish to know on my own Account, I assure you, as well
as to take back the News to my Lady, though she does not care much
about her, except as far as her own Convenience goes."

"Mrs. _Gatty_ continues very ill," said I, "and has twice been seen by
a Physician, who thinks she will take some Time to recover. You may
as well report this to Lady _Betty_, for the Doctor had not paid his
second Visit when Mr. _Arbuthnot_ called."

"Mr. _Arbuthnot_! Why should he call?" says Mr. _James_. "Lady _Betty_
would be mad enough to think he took the Trouble of knowing whether
Mrs. _Gatty_ were alive or dead."

"He called in order to report her Condition to Lady _Betty_" said I.
"Rely on it," said Mr. _James_, "he called on his own Account, for
Humanity sake, if nothing more. He hasn't been near my _Lady_ to-day,
and I had it from his Man that he has gone down to dine in the Country
with the old _Earl_; that's Lady _Grace's Father_. Sure, he must have
named Lady _Grace_, not Lady _Betty_."

There was no more to be said, and I never encourage mere Tattle; but
I thought that good and pretty as _Gertrude_ was, it could be no
Advantage to have a Gentleman like Mr. _Arbuthnot_ concerning himself
about her.

We are all mighty fond of high Matches; not considering that what is a
high Match on one Side must be a low one on the other; and that there
is little real Happiness to be looked for where Estates are widely
unequal.

I asked Mr. _James_ whether my _Lady_ were not much put out by the Loss
of her Woman's Services.

He replied, "Oh no, she keeps one for Shew and one for Use. Mrs.
_Gatty_, for as hard a Life as she leads, does Nothing in Comparison of
Madam _Pompon_, who is the real Waiting-Maid of the two. But my _Lady_
requires a second, who shall have white Hands, and do Quantities of
fine Work, and be at her Beck and bear with her Humours. Why should she
not require two Women to sew in her Ante-Chamber, as well as two Men to
hang behind her Chariot?"

Two Women and two Men to wait upon one! Well! there must needs be
different Levels; and maybe the Time will come when Habits of Living
shall be simpler. I have read, in one of Mr. _Fenwick's_ Books, of
an _English_ King in old Times, that had his Barge rowed by eight
other Kings. And of another, that had a Menial whose sole Office was
to lie under the Table, and chafe and cherish his Majesty's Feet in
cold Weather. _King Adoni-bezek_ had threescore and ten Kings, having
their Thumbs and great Toes cut off, that gathered their Meat under
his Table. The making one's own Glory lie in the abject or lowly State
to which we reduce others, always seems to me to relish of Barbarism,
however high Degree may carry it off.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]




CHAPTER III.

_The Household of a Virtuoso._


Ah! how sorry a Thing is it, when a Man's Absence from his own Home
is felt by all the Household to be a Relief! My poor _Father_ kept
his Word, of not coming nigh us, for a good While; and, could we have
been assured of his being well, and doing well, there would have been
no Alloy to our Comfort under the Deprivation, however we might feel
ashamed to acknowledge it.

The unfortunate Habit of buying Things he did not want, had become a
Kind of Disease, that I verily think he could no longer controul; but
it might have been checked in its first Beginnings in early Life,
for it could not have been born with him. How careful should People
be to shun the first Temptations to needless and lawless Expenditure!
instead of putting themselves in the Way of it, as I am free to say
many do, out of mere Wantonness. 'Tis they that keep up our Lace-Shops
and Auctions, on whose Spoils unprincipled Dealers grow rich, while
honester People cannot get their Bills paid by them, and so are ruined.
Lady _Betty's_ Man had scarce left us, when I went to my _Father's_
Wardrobe, to put away some Linen I had been repairing; when, in one of
the Drawers, I came upon five Pairs of red Silk Stockings, worth eight
or ten Shillings the Pair, that had never been so much as put on! He
had bought them, years ago, to wear with his Sad- Coat and
Scarlet Waistcoat; but the Fashion for them had already gone by, and
one Pair would have sufficed a Man that needed 'em so seldom; whereas,
I warrant, he took an Half-Dozen.

To return to the Matter in Hand. When I carried Mr. _Fenwick_ his
Chocolate and Rusks, I found him with Writing Implements and Papers all
about, hurriedly affixing his fine Carnelion Seal to a somewhat bulky
Packet. I said, "Dear Heart, Sir, are you prudent, do you think, in
writing so much?"

"If you cut me off from writing, Mrs. _Patty_," says he, with his
pleasant Smile, "pray what do you leave me? I am already forbidden to
talk, I am unable to walk, and I cannot always be reading. Oblige me by
porting this Packet by a safe Hand; or stay, here is a Shilling for a
special Messenger, if you will find one."

I said, "I will, Sir," and happening to cast my Eye absently on the
Superscription of the Packet as I withdrew, I saw that it was addressed
to Mr. _Paul Caryl_, _Will's_ Coffee-House, which struck me, as I knew
not that he was any Acquaintance of Mr. _Fenwick's_.

Mrs. _Gatty_ continued exceeding ill all that Day, her Tongue forked
and crimson-red, her Eyes wandering, and her Deliration incessantly
finding Vent in an incoherent Babble, of which few Words could be made
out, so thick and quick was her Voice. When Dr. _Elwes_ saw her next,
he shook his Head, and laying his Hand kindly on my Shoulder, "You are
in for it now, Mrs. _Patty_," says he. "I don't believe you will take
Infection, but it may be as well to keep yourself to yourself, and not
go below, especially to your younger Sister. This poor Thing's Fever
will turn in a few Days; and in the mean Time, you must continue to
be what you have begun, by being a good _Samaritan_." I dropped a few
Tears to hear him talk thus, but he bade me by no Means to give Way
to low Spirits, but take plenty of generous Nourishment; and he would
set them on their Guard below, without frightening them. He also said
somewhat of an hired Nurse, but I begged him not to think of it,
unless indeed I should fall sick myself, and then I would rather have
one than endanger _Prue_.

When he was gone, I kneeled down and prayed; then rose with much
Composure and sat down to my Work, which was making a Net to keep the
Flies from the Pastry, occasionally laying it aside to render the poor
Sufferer what Attention she required.

By and by I heard the Tap of my dear _Mother's_ Walking-Stick, coming
up the Stairs; but I would by no Means let her in, only spoke to her
through the Door, as cheerfully as I could, and bade her take Care of
dear _Prue_ and her dear Self.

The next few Days and Nights were very trying. I obtained a nearer
Sight of the dark Valley we must all pass through soon or late than I
had ever done before. It seemed to throw an entirely different Hue over
the Face of natural and spiritual Things, and to shew the littleness of
many Things that are commonly considered great, and the greatness of
many that are considered little.

At length the Fever took a Turn, and poor _Gatty_ opened her Eyes with
a Look that had Sense and Recognition in it. She said, "Oh me, how weak
I am! Are you still here, dear Mrs. _Patty_? How strange it seems to
me to be lying a-bed without hearing my _Lady_ pulling her Bell, and
rapping the Floor with her Slipper!"

I bent over her and kissed her wan Lips, which she requited by a
thankful Smile, and then dozed off into what I was ready to believe
was a restoring Sleep. I was very desirous not to disturb it, so sat
perfectly still at my Netting, close to the open Window, through
which the warm Summer Air came refreshingly, without waving the
white Curtains of the Bed. Mr. _Fenwick's_ Window, which was also
open, was immediately below; and through it I could hear Voices, and
what they were saying. I should remark that I afterwards learnt from
_Prue_, that, from the Time of my confining myself above Stairs, Mr.
_Fenwick_, upon whom it had been her Portion to wait, had been uncommon
restless and fidgetty.

He so seldom received a Visitor, that I was surprised to hear a Man's
Voice in his Chamber. Nor did I at first think I had ever heard it
before.

_Prue_ had probably announced the Name without its reaching me; for the
first Exclamation I heard was from Mr. _Fenwick_, who appeared to start
from the Window-Seat, with, "Sir!--This Condescension confers both
Honour and Pleasure!"

"Don't name it," said the other easily, "the Pleasure is mine. I came
to see the ingenious Madman to whom I was indebted for the Letter and
the Manuscript."

"Madman?" repeated Mr. _Fenwick_, deprecatingly.

"Yes, Madman," reiterated the other, "for who, in his Senses, would
address a Poem to a Patron almost as penniless as himself?"

"Sir, there are other Claims to Reverence," replied Mr. _Fenwick_,
"besides those of Wealth."

"Truly I hope so," replied his Visitor, "but I don't know that they
are germane to the present Question. You write a Poem; you want a
_Mecænas_; and instead of addressing a laudatory Dedication to some
Peer of Mark and Magnitude, you light upon a poor Brother Witling and
Authorling like myself."

"Your Courtesy lessens not the Distance between us," said Mr.
_Fenwick_; "you are a recognised Wit and successful Man of Letters; I
only a poor Aspirant."

"Aye, Man, but Wits don't make one another's Fortunes. _Shakspeare_,
_Spenser_, and _Jonson_, did not dedicate to one another. _Shakspeare_
had his _Southampton_; _Spenser_ his _Raleigh_, _Sidney_, _Hatton_,
_Burleigh_, a whole Cloud or Galaxy of Sponsors."

"There's something wrong and humiliating in the System," said Mr.
_Fenwick_.

"Something rotten in the State of _Denmark_?" said the other. "Truly
there is! _Shakspeare_ may have unfeignedly admired _Southampton_
and _Spenser Sidney_; but the relation between Patron and Client has
degenerated into Something unworthy of free, upright Minds. Does my
Thought jump with yours?"

"It does, I confess to you. I am poor; most of our Fraternity are. I
am cut off from my professional Duties, and have employed a Season of
Leisure, and cheated some Hours of Languor, by what, it must be owned,
I composed for downright Pleasure rather than for Gain. Yet a Man does
not willingly let his cherished Thoughts die."

"Certainly not."

"Therefore I aspired to see mine in Print; inscribed not to some
bloated Peer, more competent to decide on the Merits of a Pipe of
_Bordeaux_ than of an Ode by _Horace_, but to some one whose Genius
and turn of Thought I sincerely admired."

"Mr. _Fenwick_, have you a private Fortune?"

"Oh no, Sir ... only a poor Curacy of fifty Pounds a Year."

"Your Tastes are expensive, let me tell you, for a poor Man. Had you
writ your Dedication to my Lord _Earlstoke_ instead of to me, he might
have given you twenty Pounds!"

"I would rather have burned my Poem."

"Sir _Charles Sefton_ might have given you thirty."

"But had I said to him what I have said to you, it would have been a
Lie."

"Pooh! you are too nice. Why, Man, I have writ Dedications myself. I
know the Market-Value of these Things. Moreover, the Booksellers will
laugh at you, and probably will refuse to print."

"Well, Sir, no great Harm done; I shall be disappointed, but not
heartbroken. Happy for me, I am not writing for Bread."

"Hark ye, Mr. _Fenwick_--"

And I could not catch the Sense nor Connexion of what followed. Mr.
_Caryl_ seemed to lead away quite from the Subject in Hand to College
Matters, and asking Mr. _Fenwick's_ Opinion about this and t'other
Poet; for such I took 'em to be, because they got upon such Names as
_Lucretius_ and _Catullus_, and others ending in _us_, the which I had
seen tagged to the Mottoes of the _Tatler_ and _Spectator_. And they
seemed to talk over their Merits, and declare their own Opinions of
them, which did not agree, because I heard Mr. _Caryl_ laugh at Mr.
_Fenwick_ for battling so stoutly with his _Patron_. Then they got on
to _Greek_ Play-Writers, I think, and seemed more of a Mind, and to
warm mightily and spout favourite Passages, each inciting and kindling
the other, so that 'twas quite pleasant to hear 'em, even without
understanding a Word of what they were saying; and I was glad Mr.
_Fenwick_ had Company so much to his Mind, that would make the Morning
fly away so fast; and only hoped he might not over-exert himself, and
suffer for it afterwards. Then I fell to thinking that if such were his
Tastes and Capacities, what a wide, wide Barrier there must be between
his cultivated Mind and our uncultivated Minds, and how trite and
poor must seem to him the very best Remarks that we could offer! And
while I was pursuing this Thought, and forgetting to hearken to their
Discourse, I was recalled to it all at once by hearing Mr. _Caryl_ say,

"This won't do; I must be off. Good Day, Sir!"

And, in shaking Hands with Mr. _Fenwick_, I suppose he endeavoured
to leave a Purse in his Hand; for I heard Mr. _Fenwick_ quite
energetically say:

"Oh no! No indeed! I cannot think of it for a Moment! It must not be
so!"

And the other; "Nay, but it _must_ be so! For once, you must flatter my
Vanity by letting me fancy myself a Lord _Earlstoke_."

"That would, on the contrary, be to _humble_ your Vanity. In a Word,
Sir, I cannot! you must grant me my Pride, instead of pretending to
gratify your Vanity; and my Pride is to be a free Man, and speak the
Truth unpaid."

"Well, you are an Eccentricity. I'm afraid you won't find it answer in
the long Run. I'll tell you what I'll do; for I _must_ do Something.
_Cave_ will flout at the very idea of publishing Poems with such a
Dedication as yours; permit me the Use of your Manuscript for a Day
or two. I'll read a Passage of it here and there at my Coffee-House,
and ditto at _Dodsley's_, sing its Praises, and make a Mystery of its
Author; instead of offering it him for Publication, I'll wait till he
makes Advances to me. See if that won't do!"

"Mr. _Caryl_, you are making me your Slave--I mean, your Debtor, for
Life!"

"Why, a Debtor _is_ a sort of Slave to his Creditor, you _free Man_!
See how soon you are chained! However, don't let us reckon our Chickens
before they are hatched. The Plan may take, or may fail. Farewell."

And I heard him lightly run down Stairs; and looking softly out of my
Window, I could see Mr. _Fenwick_ leaning on his Window-Sill, his Cheek
resting on his Hand, in profound and, I doubt not, blissful Reverie.
Perhaps a Man more peacefully happy than he was at that Moment did not
exist.




[Illustration]




CHAPTER IV.

_The Chinese Parlour._


Mrs. _Gatty's_ Fever having now turned, 'tis incredible the Gratitude
she expressed to me for all my Care of her during the course of it.
I may say that during the whole Term, the only Concern Lady _Betty_
shewed whether she were likely to sink or swim, was conveyed in a
single Message, and that of the briefest; to know, was she about yet?
a likely Thing, when the Girl was at that Moment in a Fever-Lethargy!
_Gatty_ took it mighty little to Heart, I must say for her, when she
learned how little Recollection of her had been intimated; and she
said, with a Smile, she was ready to wish they should forget her
altogether, so content was she to remain, and so loth to go back.

And now her Appetite mended apace, and she began to regain Colour and
Flesh, and the Chamber was fumigated, and she had a warm Bath, and Dr.
_Elwes_ pronounced that she might go below with Safety to herself and
others. We resolved to make a little Festival of it, and asked him to
sup with us, which he cheerfully consented to; and I had Pleasure in
combing out _Gatty's_ long fine Hair, which she was yet unequal to
doing herself, and arranging her Dress with some Air of Smartness.

After this, she reclined in the Arm-Chair by the Window, to repose
herself a little before she went down Stairs. Meanwhile, I tended a
Rose that grew in a Pot that stood in the Window-Sill, and had just
finished watering it, when, as Ill-Luck would have it, the Water,
filtering too quickly through the Pot, descended copiously on some one
who had got his Head out of the Window beneath.

"Hallo! Who's that, giving me a Shower-Bath?" cries Mr. _Fenwick_; at
the first Sound of whose Voice I drew my Head in quickly, and we both
fell a laughing.

"Don't let us answer," says _Gatty_.

"Let us both put our Heads out at the same Moment," said I, "and then
he won't know which it was."

It was a pert Thing to do, but we were just then in cheerful Spirits;
so we looked out, without looking down, quite unconcernedly.

"I am glad to see you so much better, Mrs. _Gatty_," said Mr.
_Fenwick_; "poor Mrs. _Patty_, though, looks all the worse for her
shutting up. You remind me of the two Damsels in _Don Quixote_, looking
through the Inn-Casement, and plotting Mischief."

"Oh no, Sir," says _Gatty_, so softly that I only heard her, and
immediately withdrawing and sitting down. I did the same, actuated
by that nameless Feeling which often tells Women what is seemly and
becoming for them to do, without enabling them to say why.

Mrs. _Gatty_ shyly begged me to go down first, because she said my
_Mother_ and _Sister_ would be glad to see me; which indeed they
were. _Prue_ had set out our little Parlour in the prettiest Way
imaginable.--My _Father's_ Arm-Chair was placed for _Gatty_ at the
little _Gothic_ Window wreathed with Jessamine; my _Mother's_ Chair
was in its accustomed Place. This Room was hung with a very expensive
_Chinese_ Paper, that had cost my _Father_ I am afraid to say how
much per Yard, and which was covered with Groups of _Chinese_ Figures
illustrating the Manners and Customs of that Empire, depicted with
extraordinary Liveliness and Verisimilitude; no two Groups alike. This
Paper-hanging had been _Prue's_ and my Picture-Gallery for many a Year;
and when we were Children, and my _Father_ had it by him in Pieces, we
had needed no other Entertainment on rainy Days; preventing the long
Rolls from curling up by setting a Caddy on one End, and a Work-Box
on the other. Corresponding with this Paper were sundry Josses and
Jars, much fitter for Lady _Betty_ than for us; and the Mantel-Shelf
was decorated with Nosegays of fresh Flowers; my _Mother_ having put
the Five Senses carefully away, for Fear they should share the Fate
of the Shepherdesses. As for the Tea-Table, never was such a Spread!
Fancy-Bread, Buns, and Cakes of all Descriptions, cold Fowl, marbled
Veal, delicate Slices of pink Ham, and a superb Dish of ripe Grapes.
Dear _Prue_, whom I had not seen for some Days, was blooming with
Health and Sprightliness. She had put on a pretty chintz Muslin over
her Pea-green silk Petticoat, with a Knot or two of pale pink Ribbon
to her Stomacher, and her best Muslin Apron worked with <DW29>s and
Sweet-Peas. A Sweet-Pea she was herself! so brightly, delicately tinted
with Colour! so pliant, slim, and debonnaire! When we were little
Girls, kind Dr. _Elwes_ had been wont to say we were as like as two
Peas,--two Sweet-Peas; but somehow, I fell off afterwards, lost my
Bloom and Freshness, grew lanky and angular, while _Prue's_ scarlet
Lips and carmine Cheeks, and violet-blue Eyes, grew brighter and deeper
every Day; only she stopped growing too soon, and, but for her neat
Make, would have been too round.

Well, I went up for Mrs. _Gatty_, and entering somewhat too softly,
surprised her on her Knees. She slightly  as she rose, but said
Nothing, and putting her Arm within mine, went down Stairs; having
doubtlessly vented her Gratitude for late Mercies received, in pious
Ejaculation, which made me love her all the better. My _Mother's_ and
_Sister's_ Reception of her was most cordial, to which she responded
with the utmost Cheerfulness; and we vied with one another in Alacrity
in conducting her to her Seat, and bolstering her up in it. "Of course,
you know," said I to _Prudence_, "that Dr. _Elwes_ is going to join
us by and by."--"Oh, yes," says she, "and Mr. _Fenwick_ too;" which
startled me a little, and made me cast a furtive Glance at myself in
a little oval Mirrour in a Shell-work Frame that hung by the Window.
The View was not satisfactory; in dressing _Gertrude_, I had neglected
bestowing Pains on myself: besides, my wan Look and heavy Eyes were
what no Pains could remedy. I suppressed a little Sigh, and looked
at _Gatty_. Pale as she yet was, even _Prue's_ Beauty faded before
hers, into the buxom Bloom of a Milkmaid. _Gertrude's_ Loveliness was
independent of red and white, though the delicate Muslin Kerchief
over her Neck was not purer than the lily Throat it enclosed. For
Convenience sake, I had tied her abundant Hair in a Club behind, low
down on the Poll, with a broad black Ribband; her Gown was of the
plainest mourning Stuff; yet there she sate, an enthroned Queen for
Beauty in its Glory, without being in the least conscious of it. Of
course, Angels are beautiful without being vain; I think _Gatty_ was as
removed from Vanity as an Angel, and almost as beautiful. There was a
Dignity, Repose, and Thought about her, that made you conclude her Mind
to be set upon Something high, even without her speaking a Word. As all
this struck me, I felt inclined to slip away and smarten myself; but
then thought, why should I? I'm trim and neat, though neither pretty
nor gay; to aim at matching _Gatty_ would be futile; and as for looking
wan, why, _she's_ my Reward; for, in nursing her into Health, I have
neglected my own.

So I remained as I was; and presently came down Mr. _Fenwick_, who,
_Prudence_ told me, had been quite another Man since Mr. _Caryl's_
Visit. Close on his Heels followed Dr. _Elwes_, in his best Wig and
Ruffles, with a Flower in his Button-Hole; so our gala Preparations
were by no Means in vain. Then our little Feast began: with two such
Men at Table, 'twould have been surprising if good Conversation had
been wanting, and every one seemed in happy Tune. As for the Doctor,
he was quite on the merry Pin, praised the Cream, Butter, and Cakes,
partook of Everything, and complimented us handsomely all round. I
believe my dear _Mother_ had not had such a tranquilly pleasant Evening
for many a Day. I presided at the Tea-Board, which was supplied with
fairy-like Cups without Handles, of real China, and the Tea-Caddy was
real Chinese too, one of my poor _Father's_ Purchases. _Prue_ tripped
off now and then into the Shop; but our Man _Peter_ was on Duty there,
as well as _Saunders's_ Daughter, so that we could leave the Business
pretty safely in their Charge.

All at once enters _Nanny Saunders_ from the Shop, with a Face as
red as Currant-Jelly; and, "Sir,--Mr. _Fenwick_!" says she, "here's a
Gentleman of Quality inquiring for you!" and without more ado, ushers
Mr. _Paul Caryl_ in upon us.

For my Part, I felt greatly confused; the rest expressed by their Looks
simple Surprise, all except Mr. _Fenwick_, who, upsetting his Cup
(which luckily was empty) in his Hurry to rise, and colouring very red,
hastened to meet his Guest.

"Faith, I find you pleasantly engaged, Sir!" were the easy, lively
Words first spoken by our Man of Fashion. "Don't let me disturb any
one, pray.--May I request to be presented to the Ladies?" And he bowed
upon my _Mother's_ Hand as if she had been a Duchess, saluted _Prue_
and me more distantly, and stood at pause for a Moment when he came to
_Gatty_, then bowed low, noticed the Doctor, and then turned to Mr.
_Fenwick_.

"I've good News for you," said he gaily, "so thought I would bring it
myself. I know how I should have liked it, had I been in your Place.
But suppose we postpone it a little, and enjoy the Goods the Gods
provide us. Why should we forget the universal Doom of Man--'_Fruges
consumere nati_'? Ha, Sir?"

I mutely offered him a Dish of Tea, which he immediately accepted; and,
as he sipped it, he addressed some trifling Remark to my _Mother_, who
cheerfully replied. Many Persons would have been completely fluttered
by the Entry of an unexpected Guest, of a Grade so removed from their
own; but my _Mother_ never lost her Self-Possession or Self-Respect;
which on this Occasion was so influential on all around her, that we
almost immediately regained our Ease, and became as cheerful and chatty
as we had been before.

"Upon my Life, this is a very pleasant little Interlude!" cried
Mr. _Caryl_. "What a lucky Fellow I am! Always falling on my Legs!
Here, now, have I dropped into the midst of a most agreeable little
Tea-Party, and am made welcome to all these good Things as if my
Presence were no Intrusion!"

"Don't name Intrusion, Sir," says my _Mother_.

"But I _must_ name it, Madam! Most abominable Intrusion! Hum,--hum,--I
can't help thinking I have seen that Lady's Face before"--with his Eyes
full upon _Gatty_.

"The Day Lady _Betty_ was here, Sir."

"Bless my Soul, yes! I remember all about it now. Most unlucky
occurrence! You're quite recovered, Ma'am, I hope?"

And he seemed all at once to reflect, that, whereas he had been here
on a previous Occasion with my _Lady_, he was now taking Tea with the
Lady's Maid. Too well-bred to behave superciliously, he nevertheless
said not another Syllable to _Gatty_, but kept eyeing her continually
like a fine Picture. For her Part, _Gatty_ looked so little towards
him, that I believe she was quite unconscious of the Attention.
A Physician is fit Company for Anybody; and Dr. _Elwes_ put some
Question about the News of the Day, which soon led to general and
fluent Conversation. Mr. _Caryl_ was evidently not aiming to shine,
as when at Lady _Betty's_ Table. I cannot recall one witty Thing
that he said; but, on the other Hand, there was a racy, genial flow
of small Talk, in which all could take their Share, and no one felt
distanced or outshone, that was even better than _Bon-mot_ or Repartee.
Mr. _Fenwick_ was, I believe, on the Tenter-Hooks, at first, for Mr.
_Caryl's_ good News; but soon making out that it was not immediately
forthcoming, he gave himself up to the Enjoyment of the passing Moment.
Ere Tea was well over, they fell to some amusing Play upon Words, that
must be shown upon Paper. Writing Implements were immediately found
Room for; and from one ingenious Puzzle to another they went on, now
giving us Anagrams to make out, now sending round Quips and Queries
that each was to answer in their own Fashion, till Doctor _Elwes_
exclaimed, "Oh, Brag and Loo! how well we can do without you!"

I whispered to him softly, "Shall I fill your Pipe, Sir?"

"No!" returns he, with equal Quietness, "I meant to have had one, but
these young Sparks keep me awake without it. They're monstrous good
Company, Mrs. _Patty_."

And so we went on as merry as Crickets, till I began to think of two
Things at once; that is to say, of two Dozen--the Anagram before
me--and Sausage Rolls, Oyster Patties, stewed Sweetbreads, and so forth
for Supper; and to be sensible that I must go and look after them. Just
then, I noticed a distressed look cross _Prue's_ Face at some little
Attention Mr. _Fenwick_ paid Mrs. _Gatty_. "Dear me, how foolish of
you, _Prue_," thought I, "to be vexed by Anything like that! Why, he
cares very little about _you_, and Nothing at all for _her_!" And,
stealing from my Seat, I was about to withdraw quietly to the Kitchen,
when suddenly the Parlour-Door flies wide open, and on the Threshold
stands my poor _Father_, with a Face as red as his Waistcoat, who after
giving an amazed Glance round about him, exclaims:

"Hoity-toity! Who are all these young Fellows, amusing themselves in my
_Chinese_ Parlour?"

I thought Mr. _Caryl_ would have gone into Fits with suppressed
Laughter. "Sir," said he, advancing and bowing, "I as the chief
Intruder, beg to introduce myself by the Name of Mr. _Paul Caryl_,
of the _Inner Temple_, at your Service; and this is my Friend and
your Lodger, Mr. _Fenwick_, whom I have made a Call upon. The other
Gentleman, you will perceive, is your Family Physician."

"You seem all monstrous merry and mightily at Home with one another,"
says my _Father_, who evidently had, as was but too common, taken a
little too much; "I almost seem like an Interloper in my own House;
however, I don't care if I have a cheerful Glass with you to improve
our Acquaintance. Hallo! where's my Chair gone? I had like to have sat
down upon the Floor."

"Here, Sir," said _Gatty_, hastily rising.

"Here, Sir? and who are _you_, Madam? I don't remember ever to have
seen your Face before; not an ugly one, neither! Pray, are you Mrs.
_Paul Caryl_?"

"Oh no, Sir!"

"Who then? Mrs. ... Mrs. ... I shall forget my own Name next; hum!
Hallo! Why, where are my Senses?"

Mr. _Caryl_ and Mr. _Fenwick_ looked at him in Amazement; while _we_
knew what he missed, well enough.

"Where are they?" reiterated he, raising his Voice very loud, and
stamping the Floor. "Woman!" addressing my _Mother_, "where, I say, are
my Five Senses?"

"Dear Mr. _Honeywood_, they're safe in the China Cupboard," began my
_Mother_, which set Mr. _Caryl_ off in an inextinguishable Fit of
Laughter.

"Are these your Manners, Sir?" cries my _Father_, fiercely turning upon
him.

"'Pon my Honour, I'm ashamed of them," says Mr. _Caryl_, covering his
Face in his Cambric Handkerchief.

"Where are my Senses, I say?" recommences my _Father_; on which Mr.
_Caryl_, unable to stand it any longer, rushes into the Shop, and Mr.
_Fenwick_ after him. There we hear them, while my poor _Father_ still
continues raging, giving way to fresh Peals of Laughter, which they
vainly attempt to smother; and at length Mr. _Caryl_ departs, without
returning to wish us good bye; and Dr. _Elwes_ shortly goes also,
giving us knowing Looks, and advising _Gatty_ and me to go immediately
to Bed. And so ended the Evening.




[Illustration]




CHAPTER V.

_Two Poets under a Dairy-Window._


Next Morning, my _Father_ at his Breakfast questioned us straitly as
to what had been going on during his Absence, and seemed scarcely to
know whether to take Offence at it or not. The receiving and nursing a
Stranger under Mrs. _Gatty's_ Circumstances would have been Something
to cavil at; but then she was own Woman to Lady _Betty_, for whom,
though he only knew her in Public, he entertained great Respect; and
besides, Mrs. _Gatty_ was a fine Woman, which of itself was a Letter
of Recommendation to him. Moreover, she sat by all the While, knitting
a White Silk Mitten; so that he could not, for Manners, speak against
her in her Hearing; and my _Father_, when himself, was a well-mannered
Man. So he hemmed once or twice, and swallowed any Objections he might
have made, had we been by ourselves; and then, to turn the Subject,
"Mrs. _Gatty_," says he, "that Mitten will become your Hand well; but
most other Women's Fingers, coming out of it, would look like Radishes.
And now, let us clear Decks, and make way for the Carpenters."

"The Carpenters, _Father_?" repeated _Prue_ and I in a breath.

"Aye, there are a couple of Fellows coming down to put up two little
Shelves and Brackets, for some little Matters that the Mantel-Piece is
too shallow for. I bespoke the Men overnight, and brought the Toys in
with me. Here, _Peter_, you Knave, bring them in."

Where was the Use of saying Anything?

"Now," says he, laughing as he unpacked them, "here are the
comicallest Things you ever saw in your life; and so _you'll_ say, Mrs.
_Gatty_. Look here--a rural Piece in Cherry-Wood Carving, Farm-Yard
and Farm-House; a Beggar approaching the Door. I wind it up behind,
like a Time-Piece. Now, mark you, the Fun of the Thing! The Beggar
advances--out flies a Mastiff from the House, and furiously attacks
him! ha, ha, ha!

"Now, look at this other, its Companion; a lone House in the Country;
Time, Peep of Day.... A Thief getting in at a First-Floor Window,
by Means of a Ladder ... _Hodge_, coming out of the Barn, with a
Pitchfork, assails him from behind,--you shall see how, as soon as I
have wound it up. Now then! ho! ho! ho! see how he digs into him."

_Gatty_ burst into such an irrepressible Fit of pretty Laughter, that
my _Father_ was her sworn Friend from that Moment; while _Prue_ and I,
influenced by mixed Feelings of Vexation and Amusement, laughed with
more Constraint.

While my _Father_ was making _Hodge_ assail the Marauder again and
again, and each Time bursting into fresh Peals of Merriment, enters to
him _Peter_, with a Paper in his Hand, a Glance at which changed my
_Father's_ Note in an Instant.

"Hark ye, _Peter_!" says he; "why, your Face is a Yard long! What's
your Name, Man? your Sirname, I mean."

"_Greaves_ is my Sirname, Sir--_Peter Greaves_."

"_Peter Grievous_, it should ha' been! _Peter Grievous-had-a-Cat!_ And
your Crest, a Cat proper, with the Motto, 'When I'm pleased, I purr!'
But this is no purring Matter, _Peter_; tell the Fellow who brought
this Paper, that I'm not at Home--I sha'n't be, by the Time you get to
him."

And, snatching up his Hat, he hastily made off through the Glass-Door
into the Garden; and thence, no Doubt, to his Crony, _Don Saltero_,
for whom, indeed, he had such a profound Admiration, that I believe
no Title of Honour could have been conferred on himself that he would
have liked half as well as that of _Don Honeywood-o_. When he was gone,
_Prue_ and I locked up the new Purchases, and sent away the Carpenters,
telling them to await future Orders; and _Gatty_ wrote a Billet to Lady
_Betty_, to acquaint her with her Amendment, and request Directions
concerning her Return. Meanwhile, I was carrying up Mr. _Fenwick's_
Chocolate, when _Prue_, meeting me on the Stairs, said, "Oh, I meant to
have saved you that Trouble, dear _Patty_."

"Oh," I replied, "I am able to return to all my little Duties now; you
have too long worked for both."

"I don't think of that," replied she, with a little Disappointment in
her Air; "Mr. _Fenwick_ has got used to me now, and I thought you would
be better for a little Rest."

"Ah, _Prudence, Prudence_!" thought I, as I pursued my Way, "this
reminds me of the passing Shade on your Brow Yesterday Evening, when he
was attending to Mrs. _Gatty_. Beware of playing, like a Moth, round a
Candle, my dear little Sister, for it will lead to no good."

When I went in, Mr. _Fenwick_ looked round briskly from his
Writing-Table, with a Smile, exclaiming:

"Why, I have been expecting--oh! is it you, Mrs. _Patty_? (with a
scarcely perceptible Change in his Voice); I have been expecting my
Chocolate, I was going to say, this Half-Hour or more; but pray don't
think me impatient--I'm sure I ought not to be so hungry, considering
how you feasted me last Night. 'Tis a Sign of returning Health, I
suppose."

"I fervently hope it may be, Sir," said I. "Most likely it is. I am
sure every Thing in the Way of Nourishment this House contains is at
your Service."

"Thank you, thank you," said he. "Yes, I really believe I am getting
well--have turned the Corner, in Fact; and when I have taken this nice
Chocolate, I think I shall go and bask in the Sun under those Elm-Trees
yonder."

"Then I will put a Cushion for you, Sir, on the Garden-Seat, and a
Foot-stool on the Grass before it; for indeed you must not get chilled!"

"Nay, you will coddle me too much--you have made me too luxurious
a Fellow already. You don't suppose I had all these Vagaries in
_Shoreditch_, do you? I want to be there again, though!--I long to
return to my poor People; only, I don't know that my Voice is yet
strong enough, either for Preaching or Reading. I must make Trial of
it, Mrs. _Patty_; I must begin by small Degrees. I was thinking, that
if you happened to be by yourselves this Evening, it might not be
unagreeable to you for me to come down and read to you all for a little
While--just for Practice."

"By ourselves, Sir?--My _Father_ may or may not be at Home; we are
unlikely to have any one else; and I am sure your Plan will be a very
delightful one to ourselves."

"Very well; we will wait till the Time comes, then, to see if it be
convenient. You are all well this Morning, I hope? Your _Mother_, and
_Sister_, and Mrs. _Gatty_?"

"All well, I kindly thank you, Sir.--I hear myself called ... I believe
I am wanted in the Shop."

I made use of the first spare Moment, to run and place the Foot-stool
and Cushion under the Elms, and then returned to my Post behind the
Counter. In the course of the Afternoon, enters Mr. _Caryl_, who
salutes me with easy Urbanity.

"Good Morning, Ma'am," says he; "pray, is Mr. _Fenwick_ within?"

"I believe, Sir, he is sitting under the Elms in our little
Pleasure-Ground," said I; "I will show you the Way."

"There's no Need; I know it already," says he. "Pray, don't trouble
yourself."

However, I knew what were Manners.

"Ha!" said he, as we passed through the Parlour, which happened to be
vacant, "what a pleasant Evening we had in this Room last Night, and
how funnily it ended!--Pray, Ma'am, has the Gentleman yet found his
five Senses?"

And I saw he was brimful of Mirth, that was ready to explode at the
merest Word.

"Sir," said I, "allow me to say that you did not know where the Gift of
that Speech lay last Night. My _Father_ had presented my _Mother_ with
a Group of Porcelain Figures, representing the Five Senses, which she,
in her Care for them, had put away."

"Was that all?" cried he, his Countenance immediately changing. "Oh, I
see!--aye, aye--How absurd my Blunder was! Upon my Word, Ma'am, I beg
your Pardon for having been so unmannerly. Shocking! shameful!"

Here we came upon Mr. _Fenwick_, who finding himself exposed to a
chill Current of Air under the Elms, had got under the Shelter of the
House, where my _Father_ had set up a pretty enough rustical Seat, just
outside of our Dairy Wire-Lattice. Hence it came to pass that I, being
presently engaged in seeing the Afternoon Milk brought in, heard a good
deal of what passed between the two Gentlemen, whether I would or no.

"I've secured _Dodsley's_ Ear," says Mr. _Caryl_, cheerfully, "so
that I fancy I have but to speak a Word to secure your Piece a Place
in his _Collection_. Nothing remains to be done but for you to attend
to a little Revision in the first Place, before you submit it to his
critical Eye. What say you?"

"Say? That I am infinitely obliged."

"'Let my future Life,' &c.--hey? We'll suppose that all spoken. Well,
here is your Manuscript; I've just scored through what I think had
better be altered and left out. You are not doubtful of my Judgment, I
suppose?"

"Surely not--Just allow me to see."--

"Look _here_,--and _here_--those had better come out. Here again....
What's 'Phoebus' Mane?'"

"Phoebus' _Wain_."

"Oh, I see. That's your bad writing; _Hand_-writing, of course, I mean.
Here again, 'thwarting Thunder.'"

"That's Miltonic."

"Is it?"

    "'_And heal the Harms of thwarting Thunder blue._'"

"Hum! Well then, it strikes me, that _Milton_ having said so once, you
had better not say it again."

"Very well, I will not."

"Then, this about Truth. It's very bad--will never do. I was obliged to
skip it in reading to _Dodsley_."

"But why?"

"Why? Why, because it isn't the Thing!--won't go down, Sir! You carry
it out too far, farther than Anybody goes; it's so much Clap-Trap, and
spoils what's real."

"But it is not Clap-Trap. It says no more than I mean and feel! No,
no; I'll give up verbal Points to your better Taste, but in Matters of
Principle, I cannot alter."

"Nay then, the Thing's at an End, for I honestly tell you I won't
concern myself with it as it stands. You may surely allow me some
_little_ Knowledge of these Things. However, it's no Use talking to
an infatuated Man--otherwise, there is another Passage I was going to
propose to you to withdraw, which doubtless you will maintain to be the
best in the Manuscript."

"Which is that?"

"This, about the Water-Nymphs."

"Well,--I think it pretty, and can't see what there is to object to in
it; but, to yield to your better Taste, it shall be withdrawn, if you
like."

"My dear _Fenwick_! you don't say so?"

"I say so, and mean it too."

"Why, this will be a great Sacrifice of yours, especially as it is
against your own Judgment,--of one of the most showy Passages, though I
won't say one of the best!"

"Never mind! Let it be so."

"Come, this is docile and agreeable of you. The Men at _Will's_, in
Fact, extolled this Passage, and pronounced it to be my own! Taxed me
with reading a Poem I had written, as that of another Hand!"

"Nay, now the Water-Nymphs begin to rise in Value in my Eyes."

"In Fact, I _had_ said Something like this, only not so well, in a
former Piece; and they thought I had now worked it out, and improved on
it. So that you see I don't exactly want our Things to clash; nor to
get you accused of Plagiary...."

"Mr. _Caryl_, not another Word.--The Passage shall be omitted."

"Well, I like this; I like your Feeling. Thank you, thank you. We need
never allude to it."

"Never again."

"As for 'Truth,' let it stand. You have yielded a Point to me, I'll
yield one to you."

"I'm glad of that, for I really could not have withdrawn that Passage."

"And I'll speak to _Dodsley_ to-morrow, and get you into the
_Collection_; so expect a Proof-Sheet at no very distant Date, and then
we shall look on you as one of the Guild."

And shaking Hands with him, Mr. _Caryl_ departed.

This Conversation afforded me afterwards, as I sat netting behind the
Counter, Subject for a good deal of Thought. Here was Jealousy peeping
out again; a great Poet jealous of a small one; for so, without any
competent Knowledge of their respective Merits, I concluded them
to be. But if (which I was not sure of) Mr. _Caryl_ were the better
Poet, Mr. _Fenwick_ was the better Man. I had seen him absorbed in the
Composition of that Poem Day after Day; he had given it the nicest
Finish in his Power; there were Thoughts in it which he cherished as
part of himself, and would not be false to, nor give up, to please
any Patron in the World; but yet a favourite Passage, the Fancy and
Expression of which he believed to be good, but which another Man
was envious of, he could obliterate with Magnanimity. That seemed a
great Word for a little Thing; but was it a little Thing? The Wits at
_Will's_ had applauded it; had given it to a popular Writer; then the
real Writer deserved to be as popular. He might have been as popular,
had he kept it in; he might not become popular if it were taken out.
Then again, Expediency. Had it crossed his Mind that it was expedient
to keep well with Mr. _Caryl_, at the Expense of a Passage of Poetry?
That did not seem like Mr. _Fenwick_; I did not believe the Thought had
weighed with him.

Then I proceeded, in my Foolishness and Self-Ignorance, to ponder how
strange it was that it should be hard to Anybody of Common-Sense and
Good-Feeling, to hear:

    "_Praise of another with unwounded Ear._"

"Why now," thought I to myself, "_I_ have never found it a hard Matter
to do so. These many Years I have known that Everybody considered
_Prudence_ pretty _Prue_, and me plain _Patty_, and yet I have never
experienced the slightest Emotion of Envy or Jealousy on that Account."

Ah! we little know ourselves. "The Heart is deceitful above all Things,
and desperately wicked--who can know it?" That's the Scriptural Account
of the Matter; and however we may gloss it over, escape from it, or
flatly disbelieve in it altogether, it turns out to be the true one at
last.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]




CHAPTER VI.

_Duties of my Lady's Own Woman._


Mrs. Gatty was circumspect not to occupy my _Father's_ Arm-Chair this
Evening, whether he came to claim it or no. When the Tea-Things were
set, I stept up to Mr. _Fenwick_ to let him know we were ready.

"So soon?" said he, looking up from his Book; "why, do you want me to
read to you before Tea?"

"We hope you will oblige us with your Company to Tea, Sir," said I.

"Nay then," said he, in high Good-Humour, "I'll join you directly."
And closing his Book with Alacrity, he followed me down Stairs.

We had made no Difference, to _call_ Difference, for him this Evening.
He took us as he found us; and chatted away on this and that, as much
one of ourselves as if he had not a Word of _Latin_ or _Greek_ in his
Head. Once or twice I tried to lead to Something I thought he would
have liked better,--Something on which he could have harangued while it
would have behoved us to listen; but he darted away from it directly,
and _would_ keep down to the Level of his Company, without seeming to
mind it.

After Tea, we all took out our Work, and my _Mother_ began to snip a
Fly-catcher.

"Oh, now you expect me to read, I suppose," said he; but still delayed,
to chat and laugh about this and the other Trifle with _Prudence_ and
_Gatty_, till at last, a sudden Pause occurring, he had no Excuse for
idling any longer.

He said he would, with our Leave, read us _Shenstone's
"Schoolmistress_." We had never heard of it, and were quite willing
to hear it on his Recommendation. He said it was a Burlesque in the
_Spenserian_ Stanza. We knew what a Burlesque was, but not what was a
_Spenserian_ Stanza. He said, Illustration was the best Explanation,
and began at once. His Voice and Manner of reading were so musical,
that I liked the Melody; and could follow him with Ease till he got to
"_Libs_, _Notus_, and _Auster_." I suppose he guessed we might be at
Fault, so checked himself to tell us they were Names of the Winds. Then
he was about to resume, when _Prue_ interrupted him with, "Pray, Sir,
what is _unkempt_?"

"Uncombed, to be sure," put in _Gatty_.

"Oh, very well, I have been thinking of it ever so long, and could not
make out what it was."

"If I come to Anything you wish to know, pray don't scruple to stop
me," says Mr. _Fenwick_; and went on.

By and by, _Prue_ gets treading on _Gatty's_ Foot at--

    "_As erst the Bard by Mulla's Silver Stream_,"

and _Gatty_ frowns at her. Mr. _Fenwick_, perceiving some By-Play going
on, stops to ask if they have Anything to say. _Prudence_ hangs her
Head over her Work, colours a little, and says, "No, Sir."

"I believe," says Mr. _Fenwick_, glancing over the Leaves, "I had
better modernize the old Style a little, that you may follow it better."

We all thanked him, except _Prudence_, who said she liked it best as it
was.

"Why? Did she understand it?"

"No."

"Then why did she like it?"

"Because she did." This Answer made Mr. _Fenwick_ laugh; but I must say
I thought it very stupid. However, he went on, till within a few Verses
of the End; when my _Father_ walked in.

Mr. _Fenwick_, laying down the Book with that Cheerfulness and
Self-Possession which so well became him, took the first Word, and
said--

"Good Evening, Mr. _Honeywood_! Here am I, you see, reading to your
good Wife and Daughters, and trying to prepare myself for Duty on a
larger Scale."

"Sir, you do us honour," says my _Father_, quite civilly; "your Company
must be an Honour to us at any Time, whenever you please to bestow it
on us. Pray go on."

"Oh, we can wait a little While," says Mr. _Fenwick_. "Pray, is there
any News stirring?"

"There's a Whale in the _Thames_," says my Father.

"Indeed!" cried we all.

"And there's an Eye-lash in my Eye," continues he; "pray, Mrs.
_Honeywood_, come and take it out."

While my _Mother_ was thus engaged, we chatted among ourselves. "What
will you have, _Father_?" said I. "Shall I make you some Tea?"

"No, I'd rather you put on Supper half an Hour, and let me have
Something broiled, and some mulled Wine and Toast."

When I returned from giving Orders, I found my _Father_ established in
his Arm-Chair, my _Mother_ returned to her Snipping, _Prue_ and _Gatty_
embroidering different Corners of the same Apron, and Mr. _Fenwick_
ready to resume his Reading. The Poem was soon finished, and when we
had talked it over a little, he asked us what he should read next. I
said I thought he had better not do too much at first, and Supper would
soon be ready. He said, "Oh, he was just getting into the Humour of it,
and there was Plenty of Time to read some short Piece before Supper."
So then my _Mother_ said she thought a Paper of the _Tatler_ would be
just long enough; and mentioned a favourite Number that she had not
read for a good While--that charming Piece[1] beginning,--"There are
several Persons who have many Pleasures and Entertainments in their
Possession which they do not enjoy;" and proceeding to give such a
touching Picture of domestic Felicity. Mr. _Fenwick_ read it with
such Feeling that we were all delighted with it; and it seemed to me
that even my _Father_, who sat quite silent, with his Back to us, was
moved by it, for I noticed his breathing very hard,--his only Way of
expressing strong Feeling. "Ah!" thought I to myself, "if Mr. _Fenwick_
were to read to us in this nice Way every Evening, and my _Father_ were
to grow fond of it and of him, and get into the Way of coming Home
early, instead of sipping Spirits and Water with _Don Saltero_, how
happy we should be!"

[1] No. 95.

"And now," says my _Mother_, "there's a Sequel to that Paper, which
I should very much like to hear, save for the Fear of tiring Mr.
_Fenwick_."

"Oh, I'm not at all tired," said he;

"Pray give it me; for I am already quite in love with this good Man and
his Wife."

So my _Mother_ looked him out No. 114, which begins, "I was walking
about my Chamber this Morning in a very gay Humour, when I saw a Coach
stop at my Door, and a Youth of about fifteen alight out of it,"--and
goes on to describe the Death of the Wife and Mother of the Family. We
were presently all in Tears; _Gatty_ even sobbing; and Mr. _Fenwick_
seemed irresolute once or twice whether to proceed or stop. However,
he went on, and when he came to the Husband fainting, my Attention was
divided between him and my _Father_, who at that Crisis gave not a Sigh
but a Snore. He was fast asleep. My _Mother_, ashamed of him, gave him
a little Nudge, and said, "My Dear!" on which he turned on his Side,
murmured, "Very like a Whale!" and was off again as sound as a Top.
None of us could help laughing a little, and after this, there were no
more Tears shed. We supped, and separated for the Night.

_Gatty_ and I still slept together; and, as we were undressing, she
said, "I fear your Sister thought me affected to-night for crying at
that Death-Bed Scene; she gave me such a Look! Indeed I could not
help it; I have witnessed one so much like it; and my Spirits are yet
tender."

I said, "Pray do not think of it again--_Prudence_ has that sharp Look
sometimes, and seems just now under some little Misapprehension; but in
the Main, there cannot be a better Creature. She has not seen so much
of you as I have, but yet, I am sure she likes you, and admires you
too."

"Nobody can do that," says _Gatty_; "but I don't want to be admired,
though I own it is pleasant to me to be liked, and not to be
misapprehended."

As she lay down, she said sighing, "Most likely, this is the last
Night I shall pass in this dear little Bed."

I said, "Shall you be sorry to leave us?"

"To be sure I shall!" cried she; "you have been Kindness itself to me;
even my Illness was solaced, and my Recovery has been very pleasant;
but my Life in Servitude is anything but comfortable. I have heard or
read a Line somewhere:

    '_And_ Betty's _praised for Labours not her own_.'"

"In _my_ Case, the Reading might be--

    '_And_ Gatty's _blamed for Blunders not her own_.'"

"It cannot be helped. Good Night!"

"I hope," said I, "we shall never quite lose Sight of one another."

"Oh no! I hope not. You must write to me now and then."

"Perhaps you can come to us when you have a Holiday."

"I never have a Holiday. Lady _Betty_ knows I had no Friends when I
came to Town, and does not approve of my making any."

"No Friends! That does sound dreary!"

"It _is_ dreary."

I had now extinguished the Candle. She said no more; but I could hear
her from Time to Time give a great Sigh.

"_Gertrude_," I at length said softly, "are you crying?"

She cleared her Throat a little, but made no Answer.

"Tell me, Dear, what's the Matter."

"I'm only a little low," she replied, huskily.

"How I wish I had given you some reviving Drops, before I put out the
Candle! I will light it again."

"Oh no! Drops would do me no good--they would not give me what I want."

"What _do_ you want?"

"To see my Mother once more, and my Brothers, and my Sisters, and every
one at Home. I do pine for them all so, you can't think!"

And now she sobbed outright, though quietly. "It seems so long since I
came away, and the Prospect before me is so forlorn; no certain Hope of
going back; or ever, ever seeing them any more!"

"_Gertrude_, I _shall_ get up and give you the Drops. They will give
you Strength."

"I'm afraid they won't."

"Yes, they will. You have over-tired yourself to-day; you are trying to
get about too soon. The Drops will quiet you and set you to sleep, and
to-morrow you will be better."

So I gave her the Drops, which she thankfully took; and in Half-an-hour
or so I was glad to find she was asleep.

The next Morning, while we were dressing, as she had quite recovered
her Composure, I took Advantage of what might be my last Opportunity to
question her a little more than I had yet done on her Position at Lady
_Betty's_.

"Well," says she, "'tis not good to complain, I know, but however, I
will this once say Somewhat of my Life behind the Scenes, with as
few Notes and Comments as I can. My first Grievance is sleeping with
that _Frenchwoman_, a low Person whom it is impossible to like. I
wake sooner than she does, and avail myself of it for a little quiet
Reading or Needlework on my own Account before she is stirring. But
first, I light the Fire in the little Closet beneath my _Lady's_
Chamber, put down the Irons, and warm some Coffee for _Pompon's_
Breakfast and mine, which she takes in an uncomfortable Sort of Way,
running in and out half dressed, without ever sitting down, so that
my Breakfast is uncomfortable too. Then I have to iron out every
individual Thing that Lady _Betty_ took off Overnight, even to her
Gloves; and to air her clean Linen. Having then fed her Parrots and
cleaned their Cages, (_Pompey_ has the Monkey and Lapdog in Charge,)
I sit down to fine Work, and have scarce set a dozen Stitches, when
Lady _Betty's_ Bell is pulled as if the Wire would crack, and her
High-Heeled Slipper raps the Floor to let me know she is ready for her
Chocolate. _Pompey_ brings it up to the Door, and I carry it in, and
wait on her while she drinks it. After this, she remains in Bed two
Hours, sometimes sleeping, but oftener sitting up propped with Pillows,
doing any Fancy-Work she is in the Humour for, getting me to thread
her Needle, change her Silks, hold her Scissors, and Sometimes to read
a Novel to her. If she is very late, it may chance that one of her
female Cronies arrives in her Chair, runs up to tell her some Piece of
Gossip, and perhaps rouses her to get up and dress in a Hurry to go to
some Auction; in which Case she needs not so much two Waiting Women
as twenty. But oftener, she is uninterrupted, and after wasting half
the Morning, rises to waste the other half in a lengthened, capricious
Toilette; trying on a dozen Things she does not mean to wear, and
studying what Colours suit her Complexion. As she does not so much as
put on her own Gloves herself, Madame _Pompon_ is on hard Duty all
this While, I standing by and handing her the Pins and Everything she
wants. If my _Lady_ thinks herself in good Looks, all the better for
us; but if she spies out so much as a Freckle, woe unto us! we are sure
to suffer for what we can't help. To put her in good Humour, _Pompon_
flatters her to a Degree that is nauseous to me, and sometimes gets
a Rebuff for her Pains: then I am set to write half-a-dozen trivial
Notes to her Dictation, or perhaps the Invitations to a Rout or a
Drum, which _Pompey_ is then summoned to carry out. Then, my Work is
called for to be examined; I am chidden if I have not done enough,
and receive numerous Orders and Counter-Orders about it. At last, my
_Lady_ goes out in her Chair, during which Time I keep close to my
Needle, and then _Pompon_ and I dine together. Lady _Betty_ returns,
receives Visitors, and I am on Duty as Woman in waiting, to bring
her Scent-Bottle, hold her Handkerchief, her Gloves, and hear the
News and Gossip of the Day and a thousand Impertinences. At length
my _Lady_ dines: then I resume my Needle; then she dresses for the
Evening, which is as tedious a Transaction as her Morning Toilette.
Her Dressing-Room is the loveliest, most luxurious Apartment you ever
saw; at first I thought it Fairy-Land, and did not mind being shut up
in it; but oh, how tired I am of it now! Its Silken Draperies, polished
Mirrours, Spider-Tables, Ivory Caskets, Alabaster Vases, Silver
Footbath, old Porcelain, grotesque Toys and delicate Trinkets give
me no more Entertainment than so much Rubbish. Elaborately dressed,
she goes forth not to return till two, three, or four o'Clock in the
Morning. Madame _Pompon_ goes down Stairs to play Cards, or puts on
her Calash and goes out to see her Friends, or if she stays with me,
nods over a _French_ Novel, or babbles all kinds of Nonsense while she
manufactures some Piece of Finery. Meanwhile, I sew and sew at that
eternal Embroidery, or try to keep myself awake with a Book, if I can
find one to my Mind, till my _Lady_ returns jaded or excited from the
Ridotto, to be undressed and have hot Soup in Bed. Thus, you see, I
have no Change, no Exercise; and what is worse, no Food or Medicine for
the Mind; and oh, _Patty! is_ this a Life for an accountable Creature?"




[Illustration]




CHAPTER VII.

_Lady Betty's Fright._


"However that may be, _Gatty_," said I, "'tis certain you and I have
not the Power of rectifying Abuses, and must take Things as we find
them; but you must console yourself with thinking your Trial will
probably not be long, for I'll wager a Pound you'll be married within
the Twelvemonth."

"Who to?" says she, opening her Eyes wide.

"Nay, I can't tell that," said I, "but you are not the Sort of Girl to
be overlooked."

She smiled sadly and said, "You are only speaking at Random, nor have
I any Wish to be married, any further than I should like almost any
Condition better than my own. But now, tell me, _Patty_, is it not a
bad State of Things when young Women are so placed as that they are
tempted to look to Marriage as an Escape?"

"Certainly it is," said I; "but yet, _Gatty_, let me tell you, your
Condition might be many Degrees worse than it now is. Nay, if you had
been born and bred to Servitude, you might even consider you had a
tolerable Place; 'tis your gentler Birth and Bringing-up that makes
the Collar so hard to wear. Suppose, for Instance, Lady _Betty_, in
addition to her Caprice and Frivolity, had the Sufferings, Infirmities,
and confirmed Ill-Humours of old Age? Or suppose she were married to a
troublesome Husband? Or, even as she is, that she were a Martyr to some
irritating Complaint?"

"Then I would nurse her with Pity and Patience," says _Gatty_.
"However, 'tis no use supposing this and the other--I must take my Lot
and make the best of it; only I sometimes envy the Shop-Girls behind
the poorest Counter, for methinks they have more Exercise and Variety,
and have at least their Sundays to themselves; whereas, 'e'en Sunday
shines no Sabbath-Day to me.'"

I had a Word on my Lips as to what the Shop-Women might have to say on
the other Side of the Question; but Time pressed, and I was obliged to
run down Stairs to see the Milk sent out.

After Breakfast, Mr. _James_ the Footman made his Appearance in Undress
Livery, carrying a small Trunk, and requested to see Mrs. _Gatty_. When
she appeared, "Mrs. _Gatty_," says he--"dear me, how you've fallen
away! you must have been ill indeed!... I was about to say, your
Billet to my _Lady_ threw us into sad Confusion Yesterday. I carried
it to her on a Salver, and she, not knowing who sent it, opened it
carelessly, when, seeing your Name, she dropped it like a red-hot Coal,
and fell back on her Settee, crying to me to throw the Billet in the
Fire. But then called me back to bid me look in it first, and see what
you said, she smelling to her Scent-Bottle all the While. When I told
her _Ladyship_ the Contents, she said she would by no Means have you
back yet, it would be highly dangerous, and perhaps cost many precious
Lives; that you had better go down somewhere into the Country, to your
Home, in short, till you got thoroughly disinfected; and after that she
would let you know her Mind about you. So I have brought your Trunk,
and your Half-Year's Wages; and here are five Pounds to clear off your
Expenses here and pay for your Journey into the Country."

I never saw a Face light up with Joy as _Gatty's_ did, that Moment!
"Oh, this is delightful!" said she, "Thank you kindly, _James_, for
being the Bearer of such good Tidings! I have little Doubt that I shall
be quite strong and well after spending a Month at Home, and then I
will do as my _Lady_ pleases."

When the Man was gone, she pressed the five Pounds on my _Mother_, with
the humblest Expressions of Gratitude; but my _Mother_ would by no
Means take it. At length it was decided to inclose three Pounds in a
Packet to Dr. _Elwes_, not to be sent to him till _Gatty_ was gone; and
the other two would pay her Journey, outside the Coach, to her native
Place, so that my Lady _Betty's_ Bounty but just cleared Expenses.

_Gatty_ was now in the gayest Spirits, and whereas she had hitherto
seemed rather a quiet Girl, she was now talking incessantly. There
was Something moving in witnessing the Joy she experienced in looking
forward to seeing her Mother, and the Glee with which she spoke of her
little Brothers and Sisters, the Dog, the Cat, the most trivial Thing
connected with Home. For Instance, "_Pussy_," she would say, "you are
handsomer than our old Tortoiseshell; and yet I would not exchange old
_Tibby_ for you." "How glad _Towler_ will be to see me! I fancy him at
the Gate, wagging his Tail. He is deaf, and has lost most of his Teeth,
but I hope he is not so blind but what he will know me again."

As her Luggage was but light, I made her find Room for a small but
very rich Plum-Cake, a present from my _Mother_ to hers, and also some
Gingerbread-Nuts for the Children.

In the Afternoon, a Boatman stepped into the Shop with some
Boat-Cloaks, saying that Mr. and Mrs. _Arbuthnot_ were coming up
from the Water-Side to take Tea in our Gardens. I knew not the young
Gentleman was married; and indeed he was not so, but his Companion
proved to be his Aunt; the quietest, sweetest-looking old Lady I ever
set Eyes on. The Sky having clouded over, we had little Company
that Afternoon; I set their Table in our nicest Arbour, and had
Pleasure in serving them myself, and providing them with the freshest
_Shrewsbury_ Cakes and lightest Buns. They seemed on the pleasantest of
Terms together; the young Man's Attention to the old _Lady_, without
fulsomeness, was very agreeable to see; and their Conversation was
somewhat above the common Run. Towards the Conclusion of their Repast,
a Rain-Shower came on, which alarmed Mrs. _Arbuthnot_, and made her
request Shelter in the House. I instantly shewed them into our Parlour;
where _Gatty_, having finished her Packing, was embroidering an Apron
which _Prue_ had commenced for my _Mother_, but had got tired of
before it was half done. _Gatty_ was such a superior Needlewoman that
her Work, besides being done so quickly, put _Prudence's_ quite to
shame; the Leaves, Flowers, and Sprigs seemed to grow under her nimble
Fingers. Old Mrs. _Arbuthnot_ watched her a little While, admiring her
Facility; and then raising her Eyes from _Gatty's_ white Hands to her
almost as white Face, "You look very delicate, young Woman," says she.

"Oh, Ma'am, I'm a great deal better now; almost well," says _Gatty_,
scarcely looking up.

"Have you been very ill?"

"Yes, Madam, I have had a Fever."

"This is the young Person, Aunt," says Mr. _Arbuthnot_, "whom I
mentioned to you as having been taken ill, the Day of Lady _Betty's_
Folly."

"And are you going to return to Lady _Betty_?" says Mrs. _Arbuthnot_.

"No, Madam, I am going Home To-morrow; into the Country."

"The best Place for you, Child. Are you going into Service no more?"

"I wish it were so, Madam," said _Gatty_, hemming away a Sigh.

"I should think Lady _Betty's_ Place too hard for you; she goes out a
good deal."

"The Hours try me, Madam. I have been used always to go to Bed early."

"How early?" put in Mr. _Arbuthnot_.

"Nine o'clock, Sir."

"And now?--at Lady _Betty's_?"

"Not till Two or Three in the Morning; sometimes Four."

He shrugged his Shoulders, and drew in his Breath.

"My Dear," remonstrated Mrs. _Arbuthnot_ gently, "I am not sure we have
any Right to inquire into the Details of her _Ladyship's_ Household."

He smiled, and looked brimfull of Questions he wanted to ask.

"Perhaps some other Employment might be found less injurious to your
Health," resumed the old _Lady_. "You seem a skilful Embroidress. That
Pattern is charming; I should like to have it."

"I shall be very happy to copy it for you, Madam," said _Gatty_.

"Alas, Child, I could not work it if you would give it to me, unless
you gave me your Eyesight too! But I'll tell you what you might do for
me. You are going into the Country, you say. Probably you will there
have Leisure to work on your own Account."

"Oh yes, Madam!"

"Work me a Set of Aprons, then, as your Time and Strength permit; I
will Pay you for your Trouble when they are finished; but here is
Something for the Muslin and Silks, which I will get you to supply."

And she put Money into her Hand.

"I think I have some prettier Patterns than this up-Stairs, Madam,"
cried _Gatty_; and she flew up-Stairs, without at all regarding the
Trouble of unpacking her Box to get the Patterns, which were at the
very Bottom, in order to lie flat.

"There is Something very well-spoken and obliging about her," said Mrs.
_Arbuthnot_ to me. "Is she of respectable Condition?"

"Her _Father_, Madam, was a Country Curate, and died, leaving a
large young Family unprovided. Her _Mother_ is a distant Relation of
Lady _Betty's_. _Gatty_ became Lady _Betty's_ Maid, because no better
Independence offered to her, and she wanted to assist her _Mother_."

"Tut! tut! This is a sad Story--Surely Something more suitable might be
found."

"You spoke of an Embroidery-Shop, Madam--_we_ thought of that too, as
_Gatty_ is so clever, and can design as well as execute Patterns; but
my _Mother_ thought it would expose such a pretty, unprotected Girl,
thoughtless and ignorant of Evil, to many Temptations we had not taken
into the Account."

"The Clouds are breaking, now, Aunt," said Mr. _Arbuthnot_, returning
from the Garden-Door, where he had been apparently watching the
Weather, but very likely hearing none the less of what was said. "I
think we may shortly venture to return."

"Presently, my Dear. The young Person has gone to fetch me some
Patterns."

"By-the-by, Ma'am, would not such a young Person as Mrs. _Gatty_ be
very useful to you in the Parlour, writing your Notes, threading your
Needles, and making Tea for you? Mrs. _Rachael_ is getting past Work
now, and is not much of a Companion."

"My Dear, I have thought of it myself, but we will do Nothing hastily.
At present we will let Mrs. _Gatty_ go Home to recover her Health and
make my Aprons."

_Gatty_ at this Moment reappearing, no more was said, except about
the Patterns, which occasioned more Debate than Mr. _Arbuthnot_ could
reasonably be expected to listen to as patiently as he did. But perhaps
he was thinking of some other Matter all the Time. After this, they
went away.

Though there was now not much Daylight left, _Gatty_ knew she should
match the Muslin and Silks so much better in Town than in the Country,
that she resolved on going out to buy them; and I, to have all of
her Company I could, went with her. The Walk was a long one, but our
Spirits made us insensible of Fatigue, and the Weather after the Shower
was delightful. In the Evening Mr. _Fenwick_ reappeared, though not to
Tea, and asked us what he should read. "Oh, something cheerful, please,
Sir!" cried _Gatty_ hastily, which made us all laugh; but she said she
had no Mind to cry again before she went Home. So he read to us about
Sir _Roger de Coverly_.

At Night _Gatty_ was in such a nervous Fidget, she could scarce keep
still. She kept saying, "I hope to Goodness I shall not over-sleep
myself! Don't let me over-sleep myself!" I told her there was no
Danger, for I always could wake what Time I chose in the Morning, if
I resolved on it overnight; and I had already resolved I would wake,
and wake her, at Five. I told her I meant to see her off. She said,
"Oh, don't!" I said, "Yes, I shall--I want to see the Last of you, so
it's no Use speaking. Otherwise you may miss the Coach, and be returned
on our Hands like a bad Penny." She laughed, and said, "It is quite
insincere of me to pretend to wish you not to go, for I wish to have
you with me to the very Last; only it is such a Shame to give you so
much Fatigue and Trouble." I said, "People who really care for one
another, don't mind Fatigue and Trouble. Would not you do as much for
me?" "Yes, to be sure I would," says she.

"Very well, then," said I, "say no more about it, but let us get to
Sleep as fast as we can."

It was quite Dark when we got up next Morning, but every one was up,
to see _Gatty_ off. We all insisted on her making a hearty Breakfast,
and she declared that every Morsel seemed to stick in her Throat; so
that it was "most Haste, worst Speed." _Prue_ put her up a large
Packet of Sandwiches and Biscuits, saying she would find her Appetite
by-and-by; and my Mother pinned her Handkerchief closer at the Throat,
bidding her beware of Cold. I thought there would be no End to her
Leave-taking.--When she had kissed all round, she began again. "Am not
I to come in for my Share, Mrs. _Gatty_?" says my _Father_, who was
eating an Anchovy. "Oh yes, Sir," says she, laughing, and colouring a
little; and kissed him too.

"That's right," says he; "you're one of the right Sort--frank, without
being forward--A thorough nice Girl, out and out--I wish the World were
full of People like you."

"Thank you for all your Kindness, Sir," says she.

"Pooh," says he, "I've shown you no Kindness; the Women have, I grant
ye; all the better for both Parties."

"Come, _Gatty_," said I, "we shall lose the Coach." So off we set,
with _Peter_ carrying the Trunk.

When we reached the _Old Angel Inn_, a noisy Bell was ringing, enough
to deafen one; and a Man blowing a Horn out of the Window. The Coach
was already at the Door, and a Porter was shoving a very fat Woman into
it, to the apparent Disgust of a Gentleman wrapped in a Roquelaure,
who was already withinside. Then the Porter handed the old Woman a
Dram-Bottle, and a Puppy-Dog tied up in a red Handkerchief. A thin,
tall Gentlewoman in a velvet Hood and green Joseph next followed; and
two rough-looking Men got in last. On the Coach-Roof were two Men
hallooing and wanting to be off. In the Basket, where _Gatty_ was to
go, was an old Woman smoking a Pipe. We took our last Kiss--a hearty
one, and our last Look--a cheerful one; she scrambled up into the
Basket, which was a very awkward Appurtenance, and the lumbering old
Coach drove off, rocking and swaying from Side to Side like a Ship in
a Gale of Wind. Going under the Archway, one of the Men on the coved
Roof of the Vehicle got a severe Rap on the Head. He hallooed out
pretty loudly, but his Voice was drowned by the Horn.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]




CHAPTER VIII.

_A Voice from the Basket._


Before I reached Home, a drizzling Rain began to fall, which I was very
sorry for on _Gatty's_ Account.

In the Course of the Evening, Dr. _Elwes_ called. He said, "What could
that young Baggage mean by sending me her three Pounds? I give them in
Charge to you, Mrs. _Patty_, to remit to her, since I don't know her
Address."

I said, "You are very kind, _Doctor_, but Lady _Betty_ is well able to
remunerate you."

He said, "Oh, hang Lady _Betty_--I don't return the Money to her, but
to Mrs. _Gatty_."

"Perhaps," said I, "Mrs. _Gatty's_ Pride will be hurt."

"And have I no Pride, neither?" says he. "I am not accustomed to take
Fees of a Lady's Maid."

So, as I saw it was to be so, I said no more, except by Way of Thanks
in _Gatty's_ Name; and resolved to remit her the Money as soon as I
received a Letter from her.

The Letter was not long a-coming. I have it before me now.

                                            "Larkfield, Hants.,

                                                     "Sept. 14, 1749.

 "Dear Mrs. _Patty_,

 "Your last Look said so plainly that you should like to hear a Voice
 from the Basket, that I have taken the largest Sheet of Paper I can
 find, to tell you about my Journey Home, and how happy I am. About
 Half-an-hour after we started, it began to rain pretty fast, which
 incommoded me more than my Companion, as she covered her Head and
 Shoulders with a piece of Sacking, from which the Rain ran down
 upon me. When we changed Horses, the Men inside got out to stretch
 themselves, and I then observed that the Passenger in the Roquelaure
 was Squire _Heavitree_, the Father of a Gentleman Farmer in our
 Neighbourhood whom we know pretty well, and who was doubtless on his
 Way to visit his Son and have a little Shooting. He, pitying me in
 the Rain, stepped up and said, 'Young Woman, if my Roquelaure will be
 of any Service.... Why, _Gatty_! is it you? Art going Home, Child?
 There's Room inside the Coach for thee.... Come down, come down from
 the Basket, I'll pay the Difference!' And, almost whether I would or
 no, he made me alight and get into the Coach, where I had to ride
 bodkin between him and the fat Woman with the Puppy-Dog. At first I
 was very glad to be sheltered from the Rain, but the Coach was very
 close, and we had only one Window partly open. The _Squire_ chatted
 so cordially with me, however, that I had little Time to think of
 Disagreeables; and when he had told me all he had to tell, he fell to
 questioning. Most of the Passengers were nodding, which was all the
 better, as I did not like mentioning Names before Folks. By-and-by,
 the _Squire_ became quiet, and I guessed he was going to nod too; but,
 stealing a Look at him, I saw he was only thinking. We were now going
 slowly over a heavy, sandy Road, and the Coach rocked a good deal, and
 sometimes stuck. I feared once or twice we should be overturned; but
 the _Squire_ said, 'No Danger;' and, to divert my Attention, pointed
 out a Gibbet across the Heath, on which a Highwayman hung in Chains;
 no very pleasant Object. As I looked somewhat apprehensively towards
 it, suddenly the open Window was blocked up by a Horseman with a
 black Crape over his Face, who, crying 'Your Money or your Lives!'
 fired straight through the Coach, so as to shatter the opposite Glass.
 The next Moment, another Highwayman appeared at the other Window.
 There's no describing the Noise, Uproar, and Confusion, the Smoke,
 Stench of Gunpowder, shrieking of Women, and barking of the Puppy. The
 next Moment, our stout old _Squire_, disengaging a Blunderbuss from
 its Sling over our Heads, presented the Muzzle full at the Highwayman
 who had not yet fired, and sprang out of the Coach with it; on which,
 the Man galloped up the Bank, stooping low, so as to keep his Horse's
 Neck between his Head and the Piece; at the same Time dropping his
 Pistol, which was secured to his Waist by a leathern Strap. He called
 to the Postilion who rode our third Horse, 'Drive on!' 'No, stop,'
 cries the _Squire_, 'for I see another Coach coming up, which may
 contain an unarmed Party!' The Highwayman, reiterating, 'Drive on!'
 galloped across the Heath, followed by his two Companions; for a
 _third_ had been at our first Horse's Head all the While. The _Squire_
 continued levelling his Piece at them as long as they were within
 Range, then took off his Hat, wiped his Head, and turned about to us
 with a Look of Satisfaction. The other two Men, who all this While had
 been as white as Death and as still as Stones, now cried, 'Well done,
 _Squire_! we're much indebted to you!' while the outside Passengers
 gave him three Cheers. He took mighty little Note of them, but stepped
 up to the Coach that had now come up, which proved to contain the
 Duke of _Newcastle_, who, being unarmed, was very glad to continue
 his Journey in Company with us. Thus were three Desperadoes put to
 flight by one energetic old Man! In another Hour we reached the Inn
 where we were to dine, where the Duke parted Company with us. The
 _Squire_ sat at the Head of the Table, and made me sit next him, and
 insisted on pledging all the Ladies, to keep up our Courage. Every
 body talked fast and ate fast too, as we were elated at our Escape
 and pretty hungry. I should tell you, the fat Woman maintained that
 her snappish little Puppy had thrown the Robber off his Guard; but
 the _Squire_ shook his Head upon't. While fresh Horses were putting
 to, a couple of Horsemen, apparently a Clergyman and his Servant,
 rode into the Inn-Yard. The _Squire_, stepping out to them, related
 what had just occurred, and cautioned them against crossing the Heath
 unarmed. They thanked him, but told him they were two Police-Officers
 in Disguise, and well armed in the Hope of Attack. In fact, as we have
 since learnt, they were beset by the very Men who had assailed us,
 and giving Chase to the Gang, who dispersed as wide as they could,
 followed them all across the Country till they succeeded in capturing
 two; one of whom swam his Horse across a River, but was taken on the
 other Side. The _Squire_ has since been asked to appear against them,
 but has declined, saying there is already sufficient Evidence, and he
 has no Mind to swear away Lives that he spared when his Blood was hot.

 "After this, you may suppose we could talk of Nothing but Murders,
 Robberies and such-like delightful Subjects during the greater Part
 of our Journey: and each seemed trying to outdo the other, in hope
 of making the others forget how tamely all had behaved except the
 _Squire_. Gradually we dropped our Companions at one Place or another,
 till none remained but the _Squire_, myself, and the fat Woman. He
 now began to be amused at the Joy I could not help betraying at the
 Sight of every well-known Landmark, and tried to tease me by supposing
 a Dozen ridiculous Accidents that might have happened at Home, to
 disappoint me of my Pleasure. At length, we stopped at the Corner of
 a By-Road in _Larkfield_ Parish, and young Mr. _Heavitree_ comes up.
 'Are you there, _Father_?' says he, scrambling up on the Step to look
 in. 'All right, my Boy,' says the _Squire_, grasping his Hand, which
 he shook heartily, 'and here's _Gatty Bowerbank_ come Home to see her
 _Mother_.' Mr. _Heavitree_ gave me such a cheerful Smile! 'How glad
 they will all be!' said he, 'they do not in the least expect you,
 and have been wondering why you have let them be so long without a
 Letter. I was at your _Mother's_ just now.' 'She's quite well, then?'
 cried I. 'Oh yes,' said he, 'but _you_ don't look very well, I think.'
 'Manners, _Jack_!' says the _Squire_. 'Well, _Father_, I meant no
 Harm; here are Horses, Sir, for you and me, and a light Cart for your
 Luggage.' 'Put Mrs. _Gatty's_ Baggage into the Cart too, my Boy,' says
 the _Squire_, 'and send the Horses round to the _Green Hatch_, for
 I've a Mind to walk across the Fields with this young Damsel, and see
 what Reception she gets, and I suppose you won't Mind coming along
 with us.' 'Not I, Sir,' said Mr. _Heavitree_, 'I shall like it very
 much.' So, when the Luggage was put in the Cart, and the Coachman
 was settled with, we started off, as sociable as could be, talking
 about the Highway Robbery; and the _Squire_ took Care to tell his
 Son that I was the only Woman who did not scream when the Pistol was
 fired into the Coach. Well, we got to the dear old Garden-Gate; and
 there, strolling along the pebbled Walk just within it, were _Lucy_
 and _Pen_, their Arms about each other's Necks.--The _Squire_ hemmed;
 they looked round; and oh! what a Cry of Joy they gave! My _Mother_,
 hearing the Noise, came out....

 "Dear Mrs. _Patty_, I am writing as small as ever I can, and must
 write still smaller, if I mean to get in Half of what I want to
 say. Imagine what a happy Evening we had! My dear _Mother_ shed many
 Tears, though, when she heard of your Kindness to me throughout my
 Illness; and desired me to express her Thankfulness to you all in the
 strongest Terms I could frame. My Ten Pounds proved very acceptable,
 as it made up, with her Savings, just the Sum she wants to bind _Joe_
 to our Village Doctor. _Penelope_ is learning to make Bone-Lace; and
 Mrs. _Evans_ is so well content with _Lucy_, that she is going to
 take her as second Teacher in her School next Quarter, so that we are
 all getting on mighty well, one Way and another. Also my _Mother_
 has realized a pretty little Sum by the Sale of some of my _Father's
 Latin_ Books, and there are yet more left. Your delicious Plum-Cake
 was done ample Justice to, and the Boys declare there never were such
 Gingerbread-Nuts. Now I have filled my Paper to the very Edge, and
 yet how much I have left unsaid! Put yourself in my Place, and you
 will know all I would say to you, and to dear Mrs. _Honeywood_, and to
 _Prue_; not forgetting Mr. _Honeywood_, to whom give my kind Regards."

     "Your ever attached and grateful

          "GERTRUDE BOWERBANK."

My _Father_, who was smoking his Pipe whilst I read this Letter to him
and my _Mother_, presently said, "I see them all!"

"See who, _Father_?"

"Everybody in Mrs. _Gatty's_ Letter--The old Woman with her Pipe, the
old Gentleman in his Roquelaure, the Robber hung in Chains on the
lone Heath, the Highwaymen, the stout old _Squire_ leaping out with
his Blunderbuss, my Lord _Duke_ coming up, the Police-Officers riding
into the Yard, the young Farmer coming to meet his Father, _Gatty_
flying up to her _Mother_--that Letter is as full of Pictures as this
_Chinese_ Paper."

After ruminating on it a While longer, he began again, with:

"_Gatty_ ought to marry the _Squire_."

"Oh _Father_! his _Son_, if you please!"

"How do you know the Son is a single Man?"

"Nay, how do we know the Squire is a Widower? He's too old."

"Perhaps she won't marry either," said _Prue_.

"Perhaps not, Mrs. _Prue_, but let me tell you, neither you nor your
Sister could have writ that Letter."

"Well, _Father_, I suppose a Woman does not get married for writing a
Letter. For my Part, I don't see much in it. Anybody, I suppose, could
write, if they had Anything to write about."

"No, that don't follow--it's a _non sequitur_, as the Scholars say."

"I don't set up for a Scholar, not I," said _Prue_, "I never was so
good a Hand at my Pen as _Patty_; but I worked the best Sampler, for
all that."

"Well," says my _Father_, "say, when you write to her, _Patty_, that I
don't care how often I pay a Shilling for such a Voice from the Basket
as that. I wish she'd send us one every Week."

It indeed was Something curious, how my _Father's_ Fancy was hit by
this Letter, which he got me to read to him many Evenings following.
What was more remarkable, Mr. _Fenwick_ praised it too, though after
a more temperate Manner. He called it easy Writing. Now, sure, what
is easy, is not so meritorious as what is difficult! And he added it
was almost as good as some of the Letters in the _Spectator_; which,
everybody must own, was immoderate. _Gatty_ could historify plain
enough what passed before her own Eyes and was heard by her own Ears;
but she could not frame a Sentence that required some Exertion of the
Mind to follow; which, I take it, is the Perfection of good Writing;
at least, I know that's the Way with our best Authors. And no Shame
to her for it: Women are not to be blamed for not shining in what is
out of their Province; and she spelt perfectly well, and wrote a neat,
flowing Hand, which had found Plenty of Practice under Lady _Betty_;
only, to set her up with the _Amandas_ and _Dorindas_ that corresponded
with Sir _Richard Steele_; why, the Thing was clearly preposterous.

Meanwhile, Mr. _Fenwick_ continued to find his Way down to us most
Evenings, with his Book in his Hand; and I must say he made the Time
pass very pleasantly and swiftly; but though he read quite loud enough
for such a small Company, 'twas evident to himself as well as to us,
that his Voice would by no means yet fill a Church; besides which,
his Breath soon became short, and a red Spot would come on his Cheek;
which, whenever my _Mother_ noticed, she always made him shut his
Book, and would talk about Anything that chanced, rather than let him
over-tire himself. Meanwhile, he heard Nothing, as far as I could
glean, of Mr. _Caryl_: I know he got no Letters, nor received any
Visitor; and that, I think, tended to make the red Spot infix itself
on his Cheek. I pitied him heartily--"Hope deferred maketh the Heart
sick"--but yet it was a Matter I could not presume to express Sympathy
with him upon; nor was I qualified to allay any of his Uneasiness. But
I kept anxiously looking out for Mr. _Caryl's_ entering the Shop. One
Forenoon, Lady _Betty's_ Man, Mr. _James_, came in; and, says he, "Your
Servant, Mrs. _Patty_--My _Lady_ is going to give a grand Masked Ball
to-morrow Evening; and it occurred to me that you and your Sister might
like to look on. If so, I can secure you good Places, where you will
see without being seen; and you will only have to come early, and ask
the Hall Porter for Mr. _James_."

I thanked him, and said it would be a vast Treat to us; and after a
little Talk about Mrs. _Gatty_, and my offering him some Refreshment,
which he readily selected in the Form of Cherry Brandy and Macarons, he
went away.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]




CHAPTER IX.

_Lady Betty's Masquerade._


Prudence was mighty pleased to hear of our Engagement, as it would
afford her a near View of the gay World, which was what she had long
been desiring. After the Shop was closed, we set forth, attended by
_Peter_, who was also to see us safe back; and on reaching the Square,
we descried the House directly by the lighted Flambeaux.

Both the private and public Entrance were already in Commotion; but we
asked the Hall Porter for Mr. _James_, who presently appeared, still
in Deshabille. "You have taken me at my Word," said he smiling, "Your
Coming is of the earliest, and I dare not let you go up-Stairs yet, so
you must wait awhile in the Servants' Hall, till the Company begin to
arrive."

I was never in a Servants' Hall of that Description before; and I must
say that it afforded me Matter and Leisure for several Reflections.
Servants, Pastry-Cooks--Men and Boys, and so forth, were bustling in
and out, and we were pushed about a good Deal till we got into a quiet
Corner behind the Clock. It struck me that the Pleasures of the Quality
were purchased at the Price of a good Deal of Immorality in their
Dependents. Many a Glass of Wine did I see swallowed on the Sly; many a
Tart and Custard whipt off and hastily eaten in Corners. One would have
thought, in a great House like this, Fragments of Dainties had been so
common that they would have been no Temptations; but doubtless the poor
Servants had been so overwrought and debarred of their natural Rest
and regular Refreshments, that their Strength required a little keeping
up, for they had an arduous Evening before them. The Maids flirted and
jested; the Men used intemperate Language; in and out among them all
sailed my Lady Housekeeper from Time to Time, as proud as a Dutchess,
and in a Head and Primers that a Dutchess had probably worn, before
they were a little soiled.

By-and-by the Bustle increases. Mr. _James_ comes in, superbly
attired, and smilingly offers us Tarts and Tokay; but, though pressed,
we declined. Then he beckoned us to follow him, and piloted us
into a brilliant Ante-room where, behind some huge Orange Trees in
Wooden Tubs, he found us Seats that commanded a Vistoe of the two
Drawing-rooms beyond. Sure, the _King's_ Majesty could scarce dwell
in greater State. I think that neither _Whitehall_, _Windsor_, nor
_Hampton Court_ could ever have made a greater Show. The Ante-Chamber
Hangings were blue Velvet and Silver, the Drawing-room that came next
beyond was amber Satin and Gold; the Chamber beyond that was hung with
Goblin Tapestry. Also there were some large Mirrours, in which one
might behold one's self from Head to Foot.

I had very little Notion of what a Masked Ball was really like, but I
concluded the Company being attired as Monarchs, Roman Senators, and
Potentates of various Descriptions, would be sufficiently possessed
with their imaginary Dignities to display Gestures and Deportment of a
corresponding Sort, which would doubtless be very majestical. And these
again would be relieved by Light-Comedy Parts, which, well supported,
would be humorous and diverting.

As, let People assemble as late as they will, some one must still
be first, so it was on the present Occasion. A little Man, gaudily
attired, entered with a good Deal of Flutter and Importance, who, as
soon as he found the Apartments empty, exchanged his Strut for his
ordinary Gait, took off his Mask and put it on again several times,
perambulated the Saloons, peeped into everything, examined himself
again and again before the Mirrours, acted a little in Dumb-Show, sat
down before one of them, and finally curled himself up on a Settee and
dropped asleep.

I wonder how much the Expectation of Pleasure makes up the real Amount
of Pleasure apportioned to us in this Life. The Pleasure itself
continually disappoints; the Expectation of it has often Something
troubled and impatient; so that either Way there's perpetual Alloy.

_Prudence_ and I were now mighty anxious for the Company. A Group at
length entered, consisting of Maids of Honour and Courtiers of Queen
Elizabeth's Time, very much furbelowed and bedizened, who believed
themselves the first till they espied the little Man on the Settee,
when there were some small Jokes made about _Cymon_ and _Iphigenia_,
_Milton_ and the _Italian_ Lady, Sleeping _Beauty_ in the Wood, and
so forth. Then the Ladies settled their Ruffs at the Mirrours, and
sailed up and down; and one of them walked through Part of a Minuet
without Music with a Gentleman she called Sir _Christopher Hatton_, who
pointed his Toes extremely well. Then one of them said, "My Mask makes
my Face so hot!" "And red too," said the other; "but what will it be
by-and-by?" "I wonder if _Harry_ will come," says one; "I'll lay any
Wager I shall find him out."--"I'll lay any Wager you won't," says the
other. Thought I, is this the Way Maids of Honour used to talk in the
Days of good Queen _Bess_? Well, perhaps it may be.

Just then the little Man woke up, rubbing his Eyes, and saying
drowsily, "_John_, my hot Water at seven ..." on which the Ladies
tittered, and he woke up, looked about, and probably felt foolish.
Now the Musicians came, and took their Places, and began to tune up;
and _Prue_ whispered to me, "How delightful!" Indeed, the Music was,
or seemed to me, first-rate, and I enjoyed it as much as anything; yet
at length became inured to it, and scarce more attentive than to a
common Street Band; and finally wished the Men would not play so loud,
for it prevented my hearing what People were saying. The Ball-Rooms
now began to fill fast; and were soon crowded with _Jews_, _Turks_,
and _Saracens_, Nuns, Monks, and Friars, Goddesses, Shepherdesses, and
Milkmaids, Pulcinelloes, Mountebanks, and Ministers of State. Their
Dresses were excessive fine, and I almost trembled to think of the
Expense People had put themselves to for the Amusement of one Night;
however, that was all for the good of Trade--if so be they paid their
Bills.

As for supporting their Characters, there was scarce an Attempt at it;
the utmost that the greater Part of 'em did was to say, in little
squeaking Voices, "You don't know me!" "I know you!" This seemed to me
stupider than Child's-Play; and I was beginning to weary of it, when
_Prudence_ jogged me as a very pretty Figure passed, in striped Gauze
and pink Satin, sprinkled with Flowers, as the Goddess _Flora_; and
whispered, "Lady _Grace Bellair_."

Soon after, a smart young _Spanish_ Cavaliero came in, whom she
pronounced to be Mr. _Arbuthnot_; and a Bashaw with three Tails, whom
she decided upon as Sir _Charles Sefton_. Whether any of her Guesses
were right, I knew not. By-and-by, Dancing began in the inner Saloon;
and, for the first Time, I had a Glimpse of Lady _Betty_, who was the
only Woman without a Mask; and when I saw how great was her Advantage
therein over the rest, I wondered how Persons that evidently thought
mainly of outward Appearances could make themselves such Frights.

By-and-by a singular Couple, Arm in Arm, left the Ball-Rooms for the
Ante-Chamber, dressed like _Charles_ the Second's Courtiers, all
but their Heads; for one had the Head of a Fox, and the other of a
monstrous Goose. The latter said, "Quack!" whenever he was pushed by
the Crowd, which was held an exceeding good Joke, for Folks cried,
"Well done, Goose! Quack again!" and, when he did so, went into Peals
of Laughter. At Length, with his Friend the Fox, he sat down on a
Bench just in Front of our Orange-Trees, exclaiming to his Companion,
"Precious hot Work! Even Popularity may be too fatiguing."

"I never had enough of it to know that," says the Fox.

"You! Why, you've been steeped in it to the Lips!--among a certain
Coterie at any Rate. You are feigning Modesty, Mr. Fox."

"All I said was, I had never had too much; perhaps, not enough. We
belong to an insatiable Race. By-the-by, I proved myself a Goose
To-Night in choosing to play Fox, for you are by far the more popular."

"And only by saying Quack."

"Quackery goes a great Way in this World,--I might have known 'twould
be so."

"Monstrous fine Masquerade this!" said the Goose.

"Oh, delightful! Have you made out many People?"

"Why, to tell you the Truth, I've been so observed myself, I've had no
Time to observe others."

"Quack!"

"Sir! name your Hour, Place, and Weapon."

"How quiet and retired is everything in this little Spot! You have Time
to observe now."

"Why did you deny yourself to me Yesterday? I know you were at Home."

"The Truth is, I was desperately hypped."

"What made you so?"

"Study."

"What were you studying? The natural History of the Fox?"

"No, I was learning some Verses by Heart; and I'll spout them to you."

"Now then; don't be tedious."

    "'_Three Things an Author's modest Wishes bound;
    My Friendship, and a Prologue, and ten Pound._'"

"Oh, come! that's _Pope_!"

"Well, and it's my Case too--pretty near. A callow Poetling writes a
Piece, dedicates it to me, and expects me to patronize and print it."

"You? Why, I never saw your Name head a Dedication!"

"Well, Sir, you may shortly--if I find no Way of adroitly declining the
Honour, as I have done similar Favours before."

"Why decline?"

"Oh, the Thing's burthensome."

"The ten Pounds may be; but most People consider themselves honoured,
and are willing to pay for an expensive Luxury."

"Well, it's no Luxury to me."

"Don't have it, then."

"How avoid it?"

"By simple Neglect. He can't _ask_ for the ten Pounds, if you forget to
send them."

"No, but he may abuse me."

"If his Abuse is not clever, Nobody will read it. Come, you are making
a Mountain of a Molehill. If he has sent his Poem to you, send it back
'with Thanks,' or forget to return it altogether, or let a Spark fall
upon it."

"Then a Spark would fall upon _me_."

"Nay, if none of those Expedients can fit you, you must help yourself
to one. I begin to think you ought to have played Goose, in good
Earnest."

They now fell to talking of the Company, and criticizing their Dresses
and Deportment, but I was too preoccupied with what they had been
saying to attend much to their caustic Remarks; for though they spoke
quietly, and their false Heads somewhat disguised their Voices, I could
not help entertaining an Impression that the Fox was Mr. _Caryl_.
Was it poor Mr. _Fenwick_, then, he alluded to so unhandsomely? Oh,
the Hollowness of Worldlings! Why, had I not with my own Ears heard
him commend Mr. _Fenwick's_ Poem to his Face, and thank him for the
Compliment of the Dedication? And yet, here he was waiving it off, as
'twere, and even hinting that Mr. _Fenwick_ wanted to be paid for it!
whereas I knew he had refused Money when offered! Oh, the Meanness!...
He was jealous, and envious too, I could make out, of a Man that had
writ better Verses than his own; and would fain have them supprest.
Well, well, this is a wicked World we live in; and that's no News
neither.

A false Head and a false Heart, thought I, as the Fox walked off with
the Goose. I declare my Hands tingled to pull off that Fox's Head
and expose him; but that would have been witless. I got tired of the
Vanity-Fair long before _Prudence_ did. At length even she had had
enough (and no Wonder, for our Attention had been on the full Stretch
for many Hours, without Refreshment or Change of Posture); but the
Difficulty was, how to steal away; for the Lobbies and grand Staircase
were as thronged as the Ball-Rooms, and we could not in our plebeian
Dresses, and unmasked, attempt going among the Company; so there we
continued to sit, long after we wanted to come away. At length the
Rooms began to thin; and we took Advantage of a chance Dispersion of
the Company to make a sudden Flight to the back Stairs. I thought
I heard Remarks and Exclamations made, but never looked round; and
there, at the Foot of the back Stairs, stood _Peter_ as pale as Death,
thinking he had missed us, and never should find us. He had passed
the Night, of course, at a Public-House--no good place for him, nor
for scores of others that did the same; and was now waiting with our
camelot Cloaks and Clogs, which he had stowed safely somewhere where
he knew he could find them again. Once equipped, we followed close at
his Heels as he elbowed his Way through a Rabble-Rout of Chairmen,
Link-Boys, Hackney-Coachmen, Pickpockets, and Lookers-on. It was
pouring of Rain, the Pavement shone like Glass, Day was breaking, and I
never heard such an uproar in my Life.... "Lady So-and-so's Chariot!"
echoed from one hoarse Voice to another all along and round the Corner;
and then "Lady So-and-so's Chariot stops the Way!"--till Lady So-and-so
stepped in and drove off.

At length we got quit of it all, and picked our Way Home as we best
could, and a long Way it seemed! We had too much to do in minding our
Dresses, to have Leisure for talking. As we got towards the _Five
Fields_ we met plenty of Market-Carts; and now and then we heard the
shrilly Cry of some poor little Chimney-Sweep. Once at Home, we were
soon in Bed and asleep; and I awoke nearly at my usual Time, chilly and
yawnish, but _Prue_ continued sleeping, and I did not wake her.

I was not down quite as soon as usual, after all, and the Milk and
Bread were behind Time; and, of Course, Mr. _Fenwick_ did not get his
Chocolate as soon as usual. When he heard what had made me late, he
looked grave. I said, "Sure, Sir, there was no Harm in looking on?"
He said, "Well, I don't know.... It is dangerous to attend not merely
Places of pernicious but of doubtful Amusement. Do not your Feelings
this Morning tell you that there was Something unsound and unsafe in
the Revelry of last Night? And if so in the Case of mere Spectators,
how much more in that of actual Participators? and of all those poor
People, no voluntary Promoters of it, who only obeyed Orders, and got
no Pleasure at all, but what was allied to Dishonesty and Intemperance?
I don't want to be overstrict; but am I right or wrong, think you, Mrs.
_Patty_?" And I was obliged to own that I believed he was in the Right
on't.

As for _Prue_, she was fit for Nothing all Day; but she would hear
of no Wrong in what had to her been so delightful. So I left her to
amuse my quiet _Mother_ with her lively Chat, and attended to the Shop
myself.




[Illustration]




CHAPTER X.

_Tom's Presents._


I was sitting behind the Counter, when a smart-looking, sunburnt young
Man of about two-and-twenty, attired as a Sailor, came into the Shop.
He said, "Hallo, _Patty_! how are you?" I said, "Why, _Tom_! can it be
you? I thought you had been in _China_!"

"I _have_ been there," says he, "true enough; more-by-Token, here's a
_China_ Orange for you;" and clapped one into my Hand with such Force
that it went near to go through it.

"How are you all?" said he; "I'm glad to see you, and I hope you're
glad to see me."

"Oh yes, very glad, _Tom_; pray walk into the Parlour--we are all at
Home."

"How are you, _Uncle_?" says he, so loud and sudden that he made my
Father jump. "And you, _Aunt_!"--kissing her. "And you!" kissing _Prue_
too.

"'Manners, _Jack_!'" says my Father, quoting _Gatty's_ Letter.

"My Name's _Tom_, _Uncle_, not _Jack_, though I suppose you meant _Jack
Tar_. Well! so here you all are! I've only just landed--Didn't forget
one of you in foreign Lands; I've brought my _Aunt_ a Monkey."

"A nasty Beast!" cries my _Father_; "we won't have him here, _Tom_!
He'll break all my China."

"Well, _Uncle_, I thought she _might_ do a little Damage that Way,
('tis the prettiest little Creature you ever saw; her Ears are bored,
and her Name's _Jessy_!) So I brought you, Sir, a Tea-Service, to
cover Breakages; the Cups and Saucers fitting into each other; and
the Teapot, no bigger than this Orange, fitting in o' Top; the whole
Concern packs in a Cylinder no bigger than a Spice-Box."

"Dear _Tom_," says my _Mother_, nervously, "we've more Tea-Services
already than we should know what to do with, if we did not keep a
genteel Kind of Tea-Garden for the Quality."

"But as you do, Ma'am, won't it be acceptable? Or otherwise, won't
you want _Jessy_ to break it? She's the prettiest little Dear you can
imagine, the Darling of the whole Ship. Well! it seems you're each
discontented with the other's Presents;--my _Uncle_ don't like your
having the Monkey, and you don't like his having the Crockery. Then
I'll tell you what I'll do--chop and change. I'll take your Presents
down to my _Father_ and _Mother_, and you shall have theirs. I've
bought _you_ a Pair of Slippers, _Prue_, but of course they're too
big."

And out he pulled a Pair of little _Chinese_ Slippers that might have
pinched _Cinderella_.

"I'm sure you can't wear them, _Prue_," said I.

"I'm sure I shan't try," said she, jerking her Chin.

"Well, _Patty_, since I could find you Nothing better, I've brought you
a Feather Fan with an Ivory Handle."

"Thank you, _Tom_!" said I; "it will do nicely to flap the Flies off
the Pastry."

"And since you, _Aunt_, will not have the Monkey, you must be content
with some Gunpowder Tea."

"I shall like that a great deal better, _Tom_, I assure you. The only
Sort of Gunpowder I approve."

Here _Tom_ pulled out of his Pocket what looked like a Mahogany Rule,
about nine Inches long. "Now, Sir," says he to my _Father_, "what's
that?"

"I can't for the Life of me tell," says my _Father_, after eyeing it
askance and then handling it.

"I knew you couldn't! See," (unfolding it,) "it's a Boot-jack!"

"A queer one, _Tom_!"

"And what is it now? Why, a Reading-Desk! What is it now? A Cribbage
Board!"

"Ha! _Tom_, that's ingenious."

"Ingenious, _Uncle_? I believe it is! What is it now? A Ruler. What is
it now? A pair of Snuffers."

"Ha, ha, ha!"

"Ah, I knew you'd laugh--what is it now? An eighteen Inch Rule. What is
it now? A Pair of Nut-crackers. What is it now? Two Candlesticks. What
is it now? A Picquet-Board. What is it now! A Lemon-squeezer. That's
for you, _Uncle_. That's all the Changes. It will go into your Coat
Pocket."

"It _shall_ go there, _Tom_! 'Tis a real Curiosity."

"I knew you'd say so, Sir. I wasn't sure about the Monkey, but I knew
you'd like this. _Jessy_ shall go with me Home, but I shan't go there
till next Week, because they don't know we've come up the River, so I
shall stay a little here first."

"But, _Tom_, I don't know how we can take you in, for we have a Lodger."

"Oh my Goodness! Nay, don't put the poor Fellow to Inconvenience on my
Account, pray."

"Certainly not!" cried _Prue_, indignantly. "Why, Mr. _Fenwick_ is
quite a Gentleman!"

"Oh, is he so?" said _Tom_, bursting out laughing, "and pray, what am
I? 'Sir, you're no Gentleman!'--is that it, _Prue_?"

"Why, you're _Tom_, and that's all."

"And that's enough too, isn't it? Oh, I can swing my Hammock anywhere.
I wouldn't put Anyone to the smallest Inconvenience. Would sooner
catch my Death of Cold, or lose every Shot in my Locker."

"_Tom_, you're such a thoughtless, good-tempered Fellow, we must pack
you in somewhere."

"Oh, no, _Uncle_! don't think of it. I'll be off to the _Three Bells_.
Only, there are two Belles here I like better."

"But, _Tom_, I shouldn't like you to get your Pocket picked."

"And I," said my _Mother_, "should not like you to take your Death of
Cold."

"Never caught Cold in my Life, Ma'am, that was only Flummery; a Sailor
has Something else to do than keep sneezing and blowing his Nose. And I
can leave my Money and Watch here."

"_Prudence_," said I, "you and I could sleep in the little blue Closet."

"Why shouldn't _Tom_," said _Prudence_, "now the other Door is
un-nailed? We should have to move all our Things."

"Thank you, _Patty_," said _Tom_, "you were always as sweet as Syrup
to me. I shall like the blue Closet a precious deal the best, I can
assure you, instead of being mast-headed."

So thus it was arranged; and the light-hearted Fellow was soon
established among us, spinning long Yarns, as he called them, about
_John Chinaman_.

The next Day, he was absent for some Hours, and when he came back, he
said he wanted _Prue_ and me to go with him in the Evening to see a
Conjuror. _Prudence_, for some Whim, would not go; but I accompanied
him with Pleasure. The Way _Tom_ went on, however, spoiled my Evening's
Entertainment.

The Conjurer was dressed somewhat in the Oriental Style, and I should
have taken him for a real Foreigner, only that _Tom_ whispered to me
that was all Sham. In Fact, he began by addressing us in very good
_English_, and saying that the Marvels he was about to display were
unaccompanied by any Fraud or Deception, and that any Lady or Gentleman
who doubted his Word might come and sit at his Elbow. "I accept your
Invitation!" cries _Tom_; and immediately "slued himself round," as he
expressed it, round a Pillar between us and the Stage, slipped down
it as if he had been a Monkey, and was at the Man's Side in a Moment.
The Conjurer looked sufficiently annoyed, but not more so than I felt,
for it seemed to me that the Eyes of all the Audience were alternately
on _Tom_ and me, as indeed they well might be. Luckily for my Comfort
and Respectability, he left me sitting next to a very steady-looking
elderly Couple, the nearest of which said, "Never mind, young Lady,
we'll take Care of you." I said, "It was so very thoughtless of him to
leave me!" and felt quite uncomfortable. "It _was_ very thoughtless,"
said the good Woman's Husband, smiling, "I should think, Miss, he's in
the sea-faring Line." I said, "Yes, Sir," and we then began to attend
to what was going on, on the Stage; but I sat on Thorns all the While.

_Tom_, quite unembarrassed by the Publicity of his Position, kept
his Eyes fixed on the Conjurer's Proceedings with an Air of lively
Interest. The two or three first Tricks drew from him such Exclamations
as "Capital! Excellent!" which appeared somewhat to mollify the
Cunning Man; but at length, when Something was done which seemed very
surprising, _Tom_ coolly remarked, "Ah! I see how that is managed,"
in a Voice as clear as a Bell, that was heard all over the House. The
Conjurer shook his Head at him and frowned; but went on to Something
else. Again _Tom_ was pleased; again he clapped as heartily as any.
The next Trick he marked his Approval of by saying, "Very neat,
very neat." At Length came the grand Feat of the Evening, which was
swallowing a Carving-Knife. Everybody's Attention was riveted, when
_Tom_ said in an Expostulatory Voice, "But, my dear good Fellow, how
can you say there is no Fraud or Deception?" "Sir, I defy you to prove
any," says the Conjurer. "I will prove it directly," says _Tom_, "for
I have often seen the Thing better done in _India_." "Sir, you are an
impertinent Fellow," says the Conjurer; "I must insist upon it that
you withdraw. If you will not retire of your own Accord, you shall do
so on Compulsion, for it is highly indecorous to interrupt a public
Performance in this Manner."

"Well, but why did you ask me?" said _Tom_. "I didn't!" says the
Conjurer. "You did," says _Tom_. "_Didn't_ he?" to the whole House.
"Knock him down! Throw him over!" cried several Voices. "Give him into
Custody!" "Nay," says _Tom_, "I don't want to make any Disturbance:--if
you wish me to go, I'll go, for I never like to put People to the
least Inconvenience, and I'm sure if I'd known you didn't mean to be
taken at your Word, I would have stayed where I was!" Saying which,
he swung himself up the Pillar again, and was by my Side the next
Moment, looking as merry and good-tempered as ever. But I was so
penetrated with Shame, that I could not bear to look up, but begged him
to let us go Home, to which he acceded, though with much Surprise. The
next Morning, I was giving my _Father_ and _Mother_ an Account of my
uncomfortable Evening, when _Tom_, coming in to Breakfast, says, "Who
is that pale, lanky Chap I met just now upon the Stairs?"

"_Tom!_--" said _Prudence_, very indignantly, "it was Mr. _Fenwick_!"

"How should I know who he was?" rejoined _Tom_ unconcernedly, "I
thought he might be a Thief."

"A Thief, indeed!" muttered _Prue_, as she buttered her Roll.

"Well, _Prue_," said he briskly, "I gave _Patty_ a Treat last Night, so
now it's your Turn."

"You _did_ give _Patty_ a Treat, indeed, my Lad," says my _Father_
ironically.

"I'm glad she found it so, _Uncle_," says he, quite cheerfully, "so,
To-Night, _Prudence_, I'll take you to the Play."

"I don't know that I want to go," says _Prudence_.

"Oh! very well, then I'll take _Patty_."

"Thank you, _Tom_," said I, "but I don't quite approve of Theatrical
Amusements."

"You don't? Oh my Goodness!--And do _you_ disapprove of them, _Prue_?"

"No, not I," said _Prue_, "I think _Patty_ more nice than wise."

"Oh, then, come along like a good Girl, and let's go together."

"But, _Tom_," says my _Father_, "I shall put a Spoke in that Wheel,
unless you promise you won't forsake her as you did _Patty_ last Night."

"I'll promise you a Dozen Times, _Uncle_, if you think that will make
it more secure."

"No, if you promise once in earnest, that will do."

"I do promise."

"But, _Tom_," put in my dear _Mother_, "I share _Patty's_ Objections to
the Play-House, and I think two such young Heads as you and _Prue_ are
hardly to be trusted there. In short, I would rather she did not go."

_Prue_ pouted a little on this--My _Father_ began to chafe.

"Fiddlesticks, my Dear," says he, "you and I often went to a Play
together when we were young, and why shouldn't they?"

"Why, my Dear, as I am no longer young, I see Things in a different
Light."

"It may not be a truer Light, though, Mrs. _Honeywood_, and you can't
expect young Folks to see Things differently from what you yourself did
when you were young. Tut, tut! let the Girl go, and say no more about
it."

"But, Mr. _Honeywood_...."

"But, Madam!" (very loud and angry,) "haven't I said it should be so,
and have I a Right to be minded?"

Here my _Mother_ turned pale and trembled, which I never could bear
to see; and I was going to urge _Prue_ and _Tom_, in a low Voice, to
give up their Treat rather than foment a Family Quarrel, when I was
called into the Shop, which prevented my knowing how the Matter ended.
Presently _Tom_ went through the Shop, out of the House; and the next
Time I could look into the Parlour, it was empty.

_Prue_, however, was singing about the House, so I argued that Peace
had been restored somehow; most likely by her giving up the Play.
By-and-by she comes in all Smiles, and says, "I'll take up Mr.
_Fenwick's_ Chocolate," and, before I could say a Word, took the little
Tray out of my Hand and was off with it.

I had forgotten all about this, when, some Time after, happening to
go up Stairs for my Knotting-Bag, in passing the open Door of Mr.
_Fenwick's_ Sitting-Room, I saw him and _Prue_ standing at the Window,
their Backs towards me, in earnest Conversation; he holding her by
the Hand, and she apparently in Tears. This gave me the oddest Feeling
I ever had in my Life--I went up into my Room, sat down on the first
Chair I came to, and could hardly turn my Breath. I could not think
what had come over me! Presently I got up and tried to drink some cold
Water, but could hardly get it down. It seemed to me as if I could not
_think_; and yet there was a great, dull, dark, unwelcome Thought in my
Head all the while!

I leant my Head against the Wall; and having quieted myself a little,
rose to go down Stairs. Just then, _Prue_ came in, and looked as if she
had hoped to find the Room unoccupied. I said, "You've been crying,
_Prue_!" She said, sharply, "No, I haven't!--and what if I had?"--I
said, "Only that I should have been sorry to know that you were in
Sorrow." She said, "Tears are shed for Joy, sometimes, as well as
Sorrow, are not they?" "Certainly," said I; and turned away. "What
_could_ make you think I had been crying, _Patty_?" says she hurriedly.
"Well," I said, "I thought you might be vexed about the Play."--"The
Play? oh, that was given up before _Tom_ went out," said she--"Of
course it _did_ vex me, and I think it was unkind of my _Mother_ not to
let me go." "You know her Motives are always kind," said I. "Well, of
course I do," says she, still crossly, "but don't harp any more on such
a disagreeable Subject. If you do, I shall run away from you." And away
she ran.

Then it was not the Play; then it was not about Anything connected with
_Tom_, that had made her cry! I'd thought as much! "Tears are shed
for Joy as well as for Sorrow," sometimes, though not very often. I
sat down again, and turned my Face to the Wall, with my Head resting
against it, and cried bitterly. Mine were Tears of Sorrow, not of Joy!




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XI.

_The Old Angel._


I do not much like to look back on that Time:--I was under a Cloud; a
very dark one; and saw, heard, and felt Everything under its Shadow. I
did not seem to love _Prue_ much, nor to believe she loved me; I took
Pleasure in Nothing, and did Nothing well.

I wonder, now, how I could have been so silly. I am very glad People
could not see into my Heart, nor guess what was passing in my tossed
and fretted Mind. Oh! if our Neighbours sometimes lay to our Charge
Things that we know not, how often might they lay to our Charge Things
that they know not! They think us on good and pleasant Terms with them,
maybe, when we are full of Envy, Jealousy, and Suspicion. They utter
the careless Word and laugh the cheerful Laugh, little guessing that
their lightest Look, Word and Tone are being weighed in a Balance.

I suppose my troubled Mind tinctured a Letter I wrote, at about this
Time, to _Gatty_; for in her Reply to it, which followed very quickly,
she said:

 "I think I can see by your Writing that you are not well, nor in good
 Spirits. How earnestly do I wish, dear Mrs. _Patty_, you would come
 down to us here, and try the effect of a little Change. Yours is a
 very toilsome, anxious Life, though you carry it off so well; always
 afoot, always thinking of others! But this may be overdone, and I
 think you have overdone it now; so come down, pray, before you get any
 worse. You know your Way to the _Old Angel_, dear _Patty_! and though
 the Days are so very short now and the Weather cold, the Roads are in
 fine Order and you shall have a warm Fireside. My _Mother_ will be
 more joyed to see you than I can express, and so will my _Brothers_
 and _Sisters_, and I need not say how acceptable your Company will
 be to me! My Month's Holiday is up, and I have writ to Lady _Betty_;
 but she returns no Answer, and perhaps considers me no longer her
 Servant. I cannot say I shall fret much if it prove so; but the Fact
 must shortly be ascertained; as in that Case I must seek another
 Service. How I should like to go to that reverend, comfortable old
 Mrs. _Arbuthnot_! Perhaps, when I send her Aprons, I might write a
 respectful Line, saying I am in want of a Situation. Hers would be a
 vastly different Service, I fancy, from my Lady _Betty's_. And yet, do
 you know, that strange _Sister_ of mine, _Pen_, is certain she should
 like to live with my _Lady_! Dear Mrs. _Patty_, I must abruptly
 conclude, as we are preparing to spend the Evening at _Roaring House_.
 It is a good Step, and there will be no Moon, but we shall do well
 with Lantern and Pattens, and are not fear'd at _Hob-Goblin_.

 "I depend on your coming, so name the Day; and wrap up very warm, or
 else come inside the Coach. Tell the Coachman to set you down at the
 Mile-Stone, just before he reaches the _Green Hatch_; and we will be
 there to meet you. There have been no Highway Robberies these three
 Weeks, and only one Overturn, so don't be afraid."

     "Your Affectionate,

          "GERTRUDE BOWERBANK."

"_Roaring House_," slowly repeated my _Father_, knocking the Ashes out
of his Pipe, when I had read him the greater Part of this Letter. "It
must be a very queer Place, I think, that has such a queer Name.... A
roaring House!--hang it if I should like to live in it!--A House that
roars, or that has been accustomed to roar, very likely in the old Days
of the roaring Cavaliers!--A monstrous queer Name indeed!--Aye, aye,
many a Hogshead of strong Ale has been swilled in its great, rambling
Kitchen by roaring Boys, I warrant ye--A great, rambling, scrambling,
shambling House, with Doors and Casements loose on their Hinges, that
creak in the Wind, and with loose Tiles on the great gabled Roofs, and
Swallows' Nests in the great, windy Chimneys, and creaking Boards in
the uneven Floors and rotten old Staircases, and dark Corners, and dark
Cup-Boards, and windy Key-Holes and winding Passages. That's my Notion
of _Roaring House_."

"Is that where _Gatty_ lives?" said _Prudence_ heedlessly.

"No, where she was going to drink Tea; with Lantern and Pattens," said
my _Father_--"Didn't you hear _Patty_ read? Ha! Time was, I wouldn't
have minded being her Foot-Boy."

"But, _Patty_," said my dear _Mother_ anxiously, "she does not think
you are well, Love. Do you wish to go to _Larkfield_?"

"Why, certainly, _Mother_, it would be a great Treat; only I don't see
how I could well be spared."

"Oh, we can spare you well enough," cries _Prudence_; "you won't be
missed!"

"Thank you," said I abruptly; and thought I would not go.

"We will manage to spare you very well, my dear Love," said my dear
_Mother_--"We will contrive so that you shall not be missed."

Just the same Thing, only said how differently! I thought I _would_ go.
A kind Word spoken in Season, oh! how good is it!

In short, I decided to go, for I felt I wanted a Change; and I was
hourly in dread of saying in my present irritable State, something to
_Prudence_ which I should afterwards be bitterly sorry for. I saw she
wanted me to go; I knew she _could_, if she _would_, supply my Place
for a little While; and I hoped after a short Absence to return with a
new Set of Ideas, and find all Things straight.

So I wrote to _Gatty_, to name my Day, and began to pack up. When
Mr. _Fenwick_ heard I was going, he looked very much surprised; but
said Nothing. I was glad of the one and the other. I liked his being
surprised, and I liked his making no common-place Speeches. In the mean
Time, he had, I knew, addressed a Letter to Mr. _Caryl_; and I found,
rather unexpectedly, he had got an Answer;--in this Way.

I had carried up his Chocolate, and found him with his Elbow on the
Mantel-Piece, and his Thumb and Fore-Finger pinching his Chin very
hard, while he frowned anxiously over a Billet he was reading.

"This is very strange,--very provoking!" cried he, looking round to me
for Sympathy--"I don't know why I should trouble you to hear about it,
Mrs. _Patty_, but I am vexed!"

"I should like to hear about it if you please, Sir," said I quietly.

"Why,--the Matter is this. I sent Something I had been
writing,--Something I had taken a good deal of Pains with,--to Mr.
_Paul Caryl_. He seemed a good deal pleased with it, took it up quite
warmly, promised to put it in Train for me and give it his Patronage.
A long Interval has ensued, without Anything coming of it; at length I
venture to write him a gentle Reminder; and he, with a hundred thousand
Protestations and Apologies, writes to say that 'how to excuse himself
he knows not, but the plain Fact is, a Spark falling on my Manuscript,
has utterly consumed it.'"

"I don't believe it!" cried I with sudden Passion, "I don't believe one
Word of it!"

"Why, it's hard to believe--" begins Mr. _Fenwick_ with an aggrieved
Air.

"It's not to be believed!" interrupted I vehemently; "it's a Falsehood,
if ever one was told! A trumped up, vamped up Story!"

"Hush, Mrs. _Patty_--"

"No, Sir, I can't hush, I know it's as I say: I'm sure of it! Oh, the
Meanness!--"

"My dear _Patty_!--"

"It's abominable, Sir! _He_, call himself a _Gentleman_?"

"My dear _Patty_, you quite astound me by the Vehemence of your
Sympathy. I can't tell you how gratefully I feel it. But your undue
Warmth makes me see my own in its proper Light--I was feeling this
Matter too much. It is mortifying enough, I must own, but I dare say
what he tells me is true...."

"Not a Word!"

"And whether true or not, the Loss to _me_ is the same--I shall never
see my Manuscript again--"

"If I were the _King_ or the _Lord Mayor_, you should!--"

"Pooh, pooh! what, when it's _burnt_?"

"Burnt or unburnt; or he should go to _Newgate_; that he should!"

"No, no, _Patty_; Kings and Lord Mayors don't send Poets to _Newgate_,
for being careless of other Poets' Papers. You make me laugh at my own
Annoyance, you caricature it so! I have quite cleared up, now--I shall
not think of it again; unless with a Smile. But I heartily thank you
for your warm Sympathy, dear _Patty_!"

"Ah, Sir!--"

"Yes, _Patty_, for your acceptable, your _salutary_ Sympathy."

And he cordially pressed my Hand. I withdrew it, and slipped away; but
with a Feeling of Consolation and Complacence to which my lone Heart
had of late been a Stranger. I wiped away a Tear, and went to pack my
Box.

"In a brotherly sort of Way," thought I; "he regards me kindly. Nothing
more."

Oh! what awful Work it is, when Sisters are jealous of one another!
The nearer the Heart, the greater the Smart. The closer the Kin, the
greater the Sin. My Heart was in that State, that the least Injury,
real or supposed, made me ready to cry out; and yet I must look out
jealously for new Injuries, as if I had not enough already. As for
_Prue_, she was in a most unpleasant Humour, snappish and reckless, or
merry and unfeeling: laughing twice as much as there was Need, at the
merest Trifle; or requiring to be spoke to twice before she heard or
made Answer. There was no Confidence between us now; and if she had
made any Approach to it, I should have started away from it. I was glad
when she was going about, Sightseeing, with _Tom_; for, as she truly
said, she was so soon to have all the Work to do, that she might as
well take her Pleasure while she could: only it was not spoken kindly.
As for _Tom_, he had been Home and back again: he had taken down his
Monkey to his Mother, but had soon got tired, I fancy, of country
Quiet, (which, he said, was as dull as a Roari-torio,) so made an
Excuse to run up to Town again on some sea-faring Business. However, he
had only left Home for a few Days, and meant to return to it as soon
as he had squired me to the _Old Angel_; though I told him I had not
the least Need of his Protection, and wanted Nobody but _Peter_ to go
with me. He would not have it so; but got up some Hours before Light,
brisk as a Lark, to see me off, like a good-tempered Fellow as he was.
He talked all Sorts of Rhodomontade by the Way, that amused me in spite
of myself; and, just as we got to the Inn-yard, asked me how often I
thought he had been in Love.

"Never once," said I.

"Then, there you're quite out," said he, "for I've been in Love four
Times." Here a Man ran against him with a _Box_. "You might have put
out my Eye," says _Tom_ to him; "however, as you didn't, it's no
Matter." Here we got to the Booking-office, and waited there while the
dirty old Coach was being washed.

"Four Times," repeated _Tom_, returning to his Subject, "and I'll tell
you who with."

"Oh no," said I, "pray spare me!"

"You don't guess the Name of the last, then," says he with a roguish
Air.

"_Patty Honeywood_," doubtless, said I.

"You're not so far out, then," says he, bursting out laughing.

"Hush, _Tom_! People will hear you...."

"Well, and what if they do?"

"Why, I shan't put much Faith in your Passion, if you talk and laugh so
openly about it."

"Ah," says he, "perhaps I may feel as much as Fellows that are more
affected."

Here we got shoved about a good deal by People coming into the Office.
At length, the Horn began to blow and the Bell to clang over our Heads.
_Tom_ put me inside the Coach, within which was as yet only an old Lady
in a red Cardinal. Then he stood on the Step, and kept talking to me
through the Window. "Yes," says he, "the Letters P. H. are indelibly
tattooed on me. Why won't you give a Fellow a little Encouragement to
live upon while you're away?" Here he screwed up his Face into a very
mysterious Expression, as much as to say, "The old Gentlewoman can't
understand me," and the next Moment was showing his good white Teeth
from Ear to Ear in a broad Smile.

"They've slued up your Box now," says he, "and are getting under weigh.
There's a blue _Peter_ to the Fore."

"What's that?" said I.

"Why, the _Admiral's_ Flag clapped to the Foremast, for sailing Orders.
What I mean now, is, that your Man _Peter_, looking Blue with Cold, is
standing at the Fore Horse's Head, and staring, as well he may, at the
Postilion. Well, you won't carry much Ballast this Time. There are some
Barrels of Oysters in the Hold, going down to Country Cousins that have
sent up Geese and Turkeys."

"Dear me! I wish I had thought of a Barrel of Oysters," said I.

"Too late now!" said _Tom_. "But yet, if you wish it, I'll make a Rush
for them, and come up with you along the Road. You won't make more than
three Knots an Hour. Shall I?"

"Oh no, thank you. It's too late now."

"Better late than never. And apply that to me on the Present Occasion.
Come, accept me! Arn't I a very good Boy, for a Sailor? You've never
seen me smoke, nor drink, nor fight, nor get my Pockets picked, nor use
any uncomfortable Expressions. Oh no, I can't bear to put People to the
least Inconvenience. Here I am, going, going, going,--say gone!"

"Gone!" said I; and he was off the next Moment.

"A light-hearted young Sailor," says the old Gentlewoman smiling, "I
shouldn't think many young Ladies would say 'No' to the Offer he made
you."

The Jumbling of the Coach over the rough Stones precluded the Need
of an Answer. For some Time we journeyed in the Dark; when Daylight
came, I was able to amuse myself with passing Objects; and though the
Cold was severe, I liked Travelling very well. We stopped to dine at
Twelve o'Clock; there was a great, raw Leg of boiled Mutton, which the
old Lady said was bad Meat badly killed and badly cooked. She said,
however, that Travelling was improved since her young Days, when the
Coach was three Days going from _London_ to _Exeter_, and halted to
observe the Sabbath on the Road. We safely reached the appointed Spot
just before Dark, where _Gatty_, all Smiles and Cordiality,--and a
healthy, honest-looking Boy, her Brother, were awaiting me. My Luggage
was so light, we carried it between us, laughing and talking as we
trudged along to _Gatty's_ Home; which I found what she called "a good
Step."

[Illustration]




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XII.

_The Roaring House._


"Why, _Gatty_!" said I, as we plodded over the Moor, "I had no Notion
you didn't live in _Larkfield_!"

"But we do," said she, "in _Larkfield_ Parish. We live in the Foreign,
though not in the Borough. Didn't I ever tell you that? When my
_Father_ died, we gave up our Town-House, which was twenty Pounds by
the Year, and took this, which is but fifteen."

It seemed to me a lonesome Situation enough; however, a large, cheerful
Family prevents any House from seeming lonely; and soon we were in a
snug, well-warmed, well-lighted Room. They were all very glad to see
me; _Gatty's_ Sisters were tall, lanky Girls, nothing to compare in
Point of Looks with herself; but they seemed very sociable and merry,
and their _Mother_ was a quiet, kind-spoken Woman, whom I should never
have guessed for a Kinswoman, however remote, of Lady _Betty's_.

_Gatty_ and I slept together, and talked a good Deal before we slept.
She was quite strong and well now, but seemed more reluctant than ever
to go back to Lady _Betty_; and I thought she seemed building on some
vague Hope of getting taken by Mrs. _Arbuthnot_. I could see she liked
her Country Home best of all, but felt she had no Right to stay.

Next Day, we took a brisk Walk over the hard frozen Ground. The Trees
being leafless, and the Sky threatening Snow, I thought the Country
had a dreary Look with it; but the young People were so gay that one
could not be dreary in their Presence; and we came Home to our hot
roast Mutton with red Noses, blue Fingers, and tip-top Spirits. We
were to spend the Evening at _Roaring House_, which I found was where
Mr. _Heavitree_ lived. All the Afternoon the Girls were ironing clean
Cuffs, and making cherry- Top-knots.

Though we started at Three o'Clock, it was quite Dusk before we got to
the old Farm-House; but the ruddy Light of a great Wood Fire through
the Diamond-paned Casements made it look cheerfully enough. We had
a hearty Country Reception at the Threshold, from Mr. _Heavitree_,
a mighty smart, good-looking young Man, with quite the Air of a
Country Gentleman; and from his Sister, Miss _Clary_, who was a few
Years his elder, and who, I had been told as I came along, was soon
to be married. There was no other Company than ourselves, except
Miss _Clary's_ Lover, and her _Father_ the Squire, and the Village
Doctor's Assistant. We spent the Evening in an old Stone Hall, with
great unpainted Girders over our Heads, sundry old Brown-Bills and
Bows against the Walls, and a roaring Fire on the low Hearth, which
reminded me of the Name of the House. We did not want Candles for a
good While; we sat about the Hearth and chatted, and had Tea, and great
Slices of Plum-Cake; after that, we danced to warm our Feet, the Squire
playing the Fiddle; and then we had Hide-and-Seek and Hunt-the-Slipper,
to please the young _Bowerbanks_, and then each was called on for a
Song; and after that, we told Stories of Ghosts, Murders, Robberies,
hidden Treasures, and such-like, till we quite scared ourselves and
one another. Then the Squire would begin one and another funny Story
with, "I'll tell you what I did when I was a Boy;" and he clapped
his Hands after every Song, and laughed at every Story. I never saw
an old Gentleman take so hugely to young People; and when nobody was
minding him, he would stand before the Fire with his Hands in his
Pockets, humming "Oh, the Days when I was young!" and hem away a Sigh.
We had Forfeits; and when young Mr. _Heavitree_ was bidden, "Bow to
the prettiest, kneel to the wittiest, and kiss whom he loved best,"
he kneeled to me, and kissed _Gatty_, which put her out and made her
very red; and I heard her say in her quiet Way, "That's going too far."
We had Turkey and Mince-Pies for Supper, and hot Elder-Wine and Toast
afterwards, to fortify us, they said, against the Cold. The Squire
wished he were young enough to see us Home, but since he wasn't, _Jack_
would do as well. So Mr. _Jack_, that's Mr. _Heavitree_, went out to
put on his great Coat, and came back laughing, and said the Ground was
covered with Snow! And so indeed it was, but we trudged through it
merrily enough. Next Day, however, the Snow fell so fast all Day, that
we were kept in Doors, and _Gatty_ worked hard at Mrs. _Arbuthnot's_
last Apron, till she finished it. I wrote Home, it being the first
Opportunity; for the Post only went out of _Larkfield_ three Times a
Week: and that was once oftener, Mrs. _Bowerbank_ said, than when she
was first married.

There was much Conjecture bestowed as to whether the _Heavitrees_ would
come in the Evening to return our Visit, according to Promise. _Gatty_
thought they would not; all the others thought they would, and the two
youngest Girls spent the best of the Morning in making Cakes. The young
People came, without the Squire, and we had a pleasant Evening, but not
so lively as the last, partly because the Parlour was so much smaller
than the Hall, and partly because Mrs. _Bowerbank_ was not so convivial
and humorous as the Squire.

After this, came two or three Days of incessant Snow; and after the
Snow, a Frost. All were glad the Snow left off falling, because we
were expected at _Roaring House_, and Mrs. _Bowerbank_ said she could
not consent to our going if the Snow continued to fall. So we made our
Preparations full early; and meantime, a Servant who had been into
_Larkfield_ and had called at the Post-Office, among other Places,
(it being the principal Linen-Draper's and Tea-Grocer's of the Town,)
brought _Gatty_ a Letter from Lady _Betty_, which had been lying there
a Day and a Half, and the Contents of which threw us all into Flurry
and Dismay.

My _Lady_ wrote, in a very few Words, by another Hand, to desire Mrs.
_Gatty_ would return to her Duties _immediately_, for that Madam
_Pompon_ had left.

This was a sad Blow to us all: poor _Gatty_ could not help crying; and
we all cried to keep her Company. Lady _Betty_ would not have been much
flattered, could she have seen the Reception her Letter got. "Oh, poor
_Gatty_! poor _Gatty_!" resounded on all Sides; but after intermingling
Kisses and Tears, she was the first to pluck up Courage, and say we
were only making Things worse by grieving, and she would pack up at
once, to be ready for the Morning Coach, and then think nothing more
about it till the Time came. So her Sisters dispersed, to dress for our
Party, and _Gatty_ and I went up-Stairs to do the same, and pack her
Box; several Times in the Course of doing which, she burst out crying;
and I thought I had never beheld a Girl so loth to quit Home, nor so
resolved to do her Duty.

At length we set off; and when we got to _Roaring House_, there
was pretty much the same Thing over again, for Jokes and Laughing
were exchanged for Lamentations; and the Gaiety of the Evening was
completely clouded. I cannot help thinking, however, that it was Balm
to _Gertrude's_ Heart to find herself so unaffectedly sympathised with:
the Squire patted her on the Shoulder several Times, and called her
"poor Girl," and "dear _Gatty_;" Miss _Clary_ more than once shed a
Tear; and Mr. _Heavitree_ seemed quite mute and confounded.

We prolonged our Visit as late as we could; and when we dared stay
no longer, the Squire and Miss _Clary_ insisted on adding many
additional Wraps to our own; he producing some prodigious large Silk
Pocket-handkerchiefs, which he tied himself over our Heads and under
our Chins, like Capouchins, giving each a Kiss as a Finish; and
striving moreover to persuade each of us to wear a Pair of his thick
Shoes over our own, and stuff up the Difference between them with Rag
and brown Paper. While urging _Pen_ to this, his Son came in from the
outer Hall, looking deadly pale; and hit his Head violently against an
old Tortoiseshell-Cabinet, which he ran against without intending it.

"Measure your Distance better, _Jack_," says his _Father_, "or, what
with black Eyes and red Eyes, there won't be a Pair of Eyes in the Hall
worth looking at. Bless thee, Child!" very kindly to _Gatty_, as she
stept up to bid him Good-bye. "Keep thy good Heart and good Looks,
whatever thou dost;" and so, kissed her twice. _Gatty_ dropped a Tear
on his Hand; he looked at it quickly, then at her attentively; and
giving her Hand a final Shake, pushed her gently away, saying, "There,
go; go along; and GOD'S Blessing go with thee."

By this Time we were all equipped. Just as Miss _Clary_ was kissing
_Gatty_ at the Door, I noticed the Squire whisper a Word in Mr.
_Heavitree's_ Ear, which made the latter colour very much; adding to
it, "You'll be a Fool, if you don't do as I say."

Now, we were all setting out from the hospitable Threshold, the Lights
streaming from which illumined our Path till we reached the Gate,
which Mr. _Heavitree_ held open till we had all passed. _Gatty's_ two
younger Sisters, to show their Love and Sorrow, were each monopolizing
one of her Arms and hanging upon her as they followed _Joe_, who was
taking the Lead with a Lantern, though there was a pale Moon. Mr.
_Heavitree_, therefore, coming up as soon as he had fastened the Gate,
found me just behind the rest, and spontaneously gave me his Arm; but
the next Minute, in a hurried Manner and lowered Voice said, "Dear Mrs.
_Patty_, this once be my Friend. I've a Word to say to _Gatty_, and
those Girls will never let me!"

I immediately said, smiling, "Trust to me;" and in another Minute had
dropped his Arm and was walking off with _Lucy_, and in two or three
Minutes more had secured _Penelope_ too. As we walked on briskly, _Pen_
said, "Hadn't we better stop for _Gatty_?" but I said, "No, she's
close behind, and Mr. _Heavitree_ wants to have a little Talk with
her for the last Time." This quite satisfied the artless Girls, who
soon were busy chattering about the Loss of poor _Gatty_, and their
Fears lest she might not have a safe Journey. They pointed out to me
the North Star, and _Charles's_ Wain, and many other Stars or Planets
whose Names I forget, and told me I might always know a Star from a
Planet, because Stars twinkle and Planets do not. _Pen_ even added that
_Sirius_, the Dog-Star, is sixty Times brighter than the Sun, which
I'm free to think must have been a prodigious Blunder of hers. Who
can believe it? Except indeed, Children, who swallow Incredibilities
without any Trouble.

Arrived at the Gate, we were surprised at _Gatty's_ coming up to
us alone; yet I am certain I had had a Glimpse of two dark Figures
following us the Minute before. Directly we got in-Doors, all was
Bustle. Mrs. _Bowerbank_ was sure we must be perishing of Cold, and
insisted on our going to Bed directly; and promising to send each of
us a Basin of hot Gruel to eat in our Beds: Gruel well qualified with
Wine, Nutmeg, and Sugar--Caudle, in Fact!

It was no bad Thing to be thus coddled and comforted like Invalids
while we felt quite well; and we were soon undressing as fast
as we could. All but _Gatty_, who came up to me when I was about
half undressed, to fetch a few Things she wanted, and to tell me
she was going to sleep with her _Mother_. This was a Surprise and
Disappointment to me; I had reckoned on a good Gossip over our Gruel,
and on her telling me all about Mr. _Heavitree_ as soon as the Candle
was put out. However, it seemed that the Thing had been settled, even
before we started, in order that I might not be disturbed by her early
Departure the next Morning; and her Box had already been carried down,
and she said she wanted to spend her last Night with her _Mother_, so
there was no more to be said. I noticed, however, as she kissed me,
that her Eyelids were red with crying, but her Eyes beaming under them
very bright. I said, "Good Night, but not good-bye; for I am resolved
to see you off in the Morning." She said, "Oh, you must not think of
it. All will be Bustle, and there will be no real Pleasure in seeing
each other. I have quite got over my Trouble at going, now, and don't
care at all about it." So she kissed me cheerfully, and repeated,
"Good-Night and good-bye," and ran off. I was still resolved to get
up in Time to see the Last of her; but I suppose the Caudle, being so
strong, made me sleep heavier and later than usual; for though it was
yet Dark when I got up, I found on going down Stairs that _Gatty_ had
been gone a full Hour. None of the Family had accompanied her except
_Joe_ and the Girl of all Work, who carried her Box; but _Pen_ told me
that just as she was watching _Gatty_ out of Sight by the Light of the
Lantern, some one joined them.

When _Joe_ returned, he said their Companion had been young Mr.
_Heavitree_, who wanted, he supposed, to be at the Beast-Market
betimes, or, sure, he would not have been afoot so early. _Joe_ added
that the Snow was tremendous,--up to a Man's Knees in many Parts,
and up to his Shoulders under the Banks. We thought he must be
exaggerating; but, however, the poor Boy had certainly been Half his
Depth in Snow himself, though he averred he had not stumbled. He said
it was freezing now, and the Roads so slippery that the Horses stumbled
so at every Step that they were obliged to be led--he did not believe
they would make more than two Miles an Hour, and wondered when _Gatty_
would reach _London_. _Lucy_ said, "Hush," and bade him not frighten
their _Mother_, who was just coming in; but Mrs. _Bowerbank_ had heard
it all from the Cook-Maid, and looked very grave. It turned out, that
Mr. _Heavitree_ had made _Gatty_ go inside, and had accompanied her
the first Stage. _Joe's_ Eyes looked very round, and he said, "Oh, I
wasn't to tell that; but Women will be blabbing." "Who told you not to
tell, _Joey_?" says _Lucy_. "If I told you that, Miss _Lucy_," says he,
"I should blab too." So then we sat down to Breakfast, for they were
glad of the Excuse to repair their hurried Meal by keeping me Company.
After that, we sat to our Needles, and _Joey_ did Sums or pretended
to do them, and drew Pictures on his Slate. Mrs. _Bowerbank_ was a
ruminative Woman of few Words, the younger Girls were rather afraid of
her, and rather shy towards me, and we missed _Gatty_ sadly. As for
getting out of Doors, we were close Prisoners, and likely to be for
some Days; the Weather was as bad as could be, and threatened to be
worse.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XIII.

_A Journey in the Snow._


I think a dismaller Thing can scarce be cited, than a lone dismal House
on a dismal lone Moor, in dismal inclement Weather, without anything
passing or like to pass on Horse or Foot, without even a Cart-Track
or a Row of black Footprints to the Gate across the Snow. In-Doors,
small Rooms, somewhat barely furnished, either bitterly cold, or hot
and close to that Degree as almost to stifle one. Nobody coming in nor
going out; not so much as a Tradesman's Knock with his Knuckles at the
Back-door; no Newspapers, no News, no lively Voices, no Letters to
be got from the Post, nor any Possibility of getting a Letter to the
Post. Nothing but to depend on one's own Resources within the House;
happy for the Housekeeper if no Bread, nor Meat, nor Tea, nor Salt, nor
Sugar, nor Candles, nor Coals, nor Stores of any Sort be a-wanting!

I confess a Day or two of that Life made me heartily sick of it; and
yet it continued for nearly a Week. I thought what a Goose I was to
leave Home to come to People I knew so little of, and who knew so
little of me. I resolved within myself it should be long indeed ere I
set out again, "voggetting about," as the _Wiltshire_ People call it.
Change of Scene, indeed! with Nothing to look out at but that lonely
Snow-covered Moor! Nobody to speak to but a silent Woman, with a couple
of unfledged Daughters, as mute as Mice, poring over their Bobbin-Work,
and a Schoolboy that was bidden to hold his Peace! Nothing to do but
sew, sew, sew, all Day, and think my own melancholy Thoughts, and wish
for a Letter from Home, and wonder when I should be able to get back!
No Exercise but to go up to my own Room under Pretence of washing my
Hands, and there gaze out vacantly on the Snow, or dip into a musty old
Book or two! Why, there was a hundred Times more Variety and Amusement
in our Shop, any Day, in the worst of Weathers!

As for Mrs. _Bowerbank_, she was not near so dull, though a good deal
more worried; because, though she brewed and baked at Home, and kept
her Store Closet pretty well supplied, there were certain little Things
that fell short during our Siege and Beleaguerment, which she had no
Means of supplying. Thus, Butter ran short; and we all know there's no
Substitute for that! The Salt-box happened to be nearly empty, and Eggs
were scarce. Luckily, there was no Lack of Bread, because Flour was
plenty, and she always knew how to keep herself supplied with Yeast,
by putting away the wooden Spoon, unwashed, with which she had stirred
the Yeast at her last Baking. But Butcher's Meat was scarce, which was
more felt because we could not have Eggs to our Bacon: however, with
one Thing and another we got on pretty well. She called me the most
contented of Guests; I told her, truly, I was sorry she should treat me
as a Stranger, and was quite willing to fare with the Rest.

Indeed, the Tabling troubled me least. And when I considered how kind
they all were to me, a Stranger, and how great must be the Sufferings
of the Poor and Needy in such a Season, I felt I was quite wicked to
be secretly complaining merely because of the Infestivity. I played
at Tit-tat-to with _Joe_, and posed him with hard Riddles, and he in
return put it to me--"If a Herring and a Half cost three Halfpence,
how far is it to _Tyburn_ Turnpike?" which I told him had puzzled me
before he was born; and then I puzzled him by asking, if a Herring and
a Half cost three Halfpence, how many could he buy for Sixpence; which
took him a good While to make out. The Girls, seeing me condescend to
their younger Brother, began to think me less formidable, and to make
some bashful Efforts at my Entertainment; and I then offered to tell
their Fortunes, and showed them some simple Hocus-pocussing, which
presently set us all laughing; and I found that the surest Way of being
entertained is to entertain. Besides, we got a little Exercise by this;
for some of the Conjurations led to hiding, and seeking, and turning
quickly round, and playing Forfeits. So that we got on pretty well
after a Time; only, all the While I was thinking when will the Frost
break up, and, shall I be able to get Home?

All this While, we were in Suspense about _Gatty's_ Safety, and unable
to get any Letter from her; nor did Mrs. _Bowerbank_, by a single Word
or Hint, enable me to guess whether _Gatty_ had told her of Anything
particular that Mr. _Heavitree_ had said to her or not. My only Reason
for thinking she had, was her _Mother's_ sometimes falling into a
Reverie as she sate by the Fire, with a quiet Smile on her Face, as
though she were a thinking of Somewhat mighty pleasant; and again, by
her frequently praising _Gatty_ to us all, for her Frankness and steady
Pursuit of Duty.

At length, the Snow began to yield a little; and just as Mrs.
_Bowerbank_ was beginning to consider whether she might not send
_Nanny_ into the Town for Letters and other Things much wanted, a
Farm-Labourer from _Roaring House_ came trudging through the Snow,
and said he had found a Letter lying at the Post-Office for Mrs.
_Bowerbank_, and had thought she might be glad to have it. The Man got
a Cup of warm Beer for his Pains; and Mrs. _Bowerbank_, seeing the
Direction in _Gatty's_ Hand, came into the Parlour to read the Letter
by the Fire, and communicate the best Part of it to us.

_Gatty_ said she was much surprised and very thankful to find that
Mr. _Heavitree_ was going to see her safe to the End of the first
Stage. He had insisted on her going inside, and said he would settle
about that with Mrs. _Bowerbank_ afterwards; and the Weather was so
dreadful that she had felt herself justified in being persuaded.
They were the only inside Passengers, and, with all the Windows up,
were not so very cold; but the Windows were so covered with Ice that
it was impossible to see through them when Day broke. They knew the
Horses were being led, and that they were going very slowly, but did
not much mind it, and judged they must have travelled several Miles,
when all at once they found the Coach give a great Lurch, and roll
over on its Side. They were quite unable to help themselves, and very
uncomfortable, and rather frightened: Mr. _Heavitree_ did not like
breaking the Window, for fear of the Shivers falling on _Gatty_, and
of the Cold to which they should subsequently be exposed. At length,
with very great Difficulty, he contrived to open one of the Windows;
and the Guard helped him to scramble out, and lift out _Gatty_. To
their great Surprise and Mortification they saw just opposite to them
a Finger-post, with "_Three Miles to Larkfield_," on it. In Fact, they
had only just reached the Heath, where the Road being marked by no
Boundaries, was hidden under the Snow, and they had strayed off it and
got into a pretty deep Ditch, wherein the Coach was so fast set as to
be immoveable. There was a Turnpike about a hundred Yards off, and the
Turnpike Man came running out to see if he could give any Assistance;
so then all the Men, Passengers and all, set their Shoulders to the
Coach to heave it up; but in forcing it up, one of the Fore-Wheels came
off. Then the three Horses, which had already broken their Traces,
were sent back to _Larkfield_ with the Postilion, Guard, and Ostler
that had been leading, and the Passengers had no Help for it but to
wait till Post-Chaises were sent. The Turnpike-Man invited them into
his Cottage, which they were very thankful to take Shelter in; there
was only one outside Passenger, whose Face was purple, almost black,
with Cold; and he staggered so that _Gatty_ at first thought he had
been drinking, but it was because he was benumbed and dizzy. The
Turnpike-Man's Wife received them very kindly: she was ironing, and
the Room was very small and steamy, but she made them welcome to stand
round her Fire, and said she had put off her Washing as long as she
possibly could, because there was only Snow-water for use, now the
Pond was frozen. There was a Baby crying in its Cradle all the Time,
which its _Mother_ said was because of the Cold; but _Gatty_ thought
it might be because the _Mother_ had not Time to attend to it; so she
took it up, and cherished it at the Fire, and rubbed its little blue
Hands and Feet till she quieted it. Meanwhile, Mr. _Heavitree_ produced
some famous hot Gingerbread Nuts, which Mrs. _Clary_ had given him, and
the outside Passenger pulled out a Case-bottle of Brandy, and the good
Woman gave them hot Water, and supplied Tumblers and Cups, and they
had a very seasonable Luncheon. The Turnpike-Man said he had not taken
Tolls to the Amount of Tenpence during the last two Days. His Wife,
touched by _Gatty's_ fondling the Baby, said with a kind of Remorse,
that she wished she could be sure all was well with a young Woman
carrying an Infant, who had, with Tears in her Eyes, begged, the Day
before, to chafe its poor little Limbs at the Fire for a few Minutes
before she crossed the Moor. "There was Something wild and unsettled
in her Look," said the good Woman, "that I did not like, and I asked
her, 'Why cross the Moor at all?' she said, she must, for her only
Chance of Shelter; I asked whence she came, but she would not say. So
the only Thing was to make her as comfortable as I could while she
remained--there was some good strong Pease Soup on the Fire, and I gave
her a Basin of it, with a Slice of Bread. I never saw a poor Soul so
grateful; she said it warmed her to the Heart. I also made her take off
her wet Stockings, which were fine but very old, and put on an old Pair
of thick Woollen ones I had given up wearing; and I buttoned a Pair of
old Gaiters over all. So then she suckled the Babe and went her Ways,
praying GOD to bless me; and I watched her straggling across the Moor,
and now and then plunging into a Snow-Drift. My Heart ached for her, it
did!--and I couldn't help thinking, in the Night, that when the Thaw
came, we might find her poor Corpse under the Snow."

It was Noon, _Gatty_ said, when one Post-Chaise made its Appearance; so
into this she and Mr. _Heavitree_ and the other Passenger were packed,
and her Box tied on behind; and they recommenced their Journey, Mr.
_Heavitree_ sitting between the two. Their Pace was mended, and they
were congratulating themselves on their Speed, when, by Reason of the
roundness of the Road, over went the Chaise. However, they soon righted
again, the Chaise being so much lighter than the Coach; and they did
not overturn again till just as they got to _Newton Buzzard_; which
was the first Stage, of fourteen Miles, from _Larkfield_. However, the
Day was now so far spent, it being about three o'Clock, at which Hour
even the Stage-Coach always pulls up for the Night during Winter, that
Mr. _Heavitree_ said it would be Madness to proceed, especially as the
following Stage included _Splitskull Hill_. He had an Aunt in the Town,
at whose House he always slept when he attended the Markets; so he went
to her while _Gatty_ remained at the Inn, to fish for an Invitation.
And the Invitation was not long forthcoming, so he came back almost
directly, and told _Gatty_ his Aunt would take no Denial; so they went
there and had a very hospitable Reception from the old Lady, who gave
them a hot Supper and well-aired Beds. The next Day, the Coach being
reported still immoveable and very ruinous, they went on as before in
a Chaise, and, the Roads being more beaten, got on much faster and
without any more Impediment, till they safely reached _London_, where
kind Mr. _Heavitree_ took leave of _Gatty_ at Lady _Betty's_ Door.

But, now,--oh! what News. _Gatty_ on entering the House, and being
fairly shut into it, learned to her Dismay that Lady _Betty_ had not
summoned her up in one of her Capricchios, but was laid up with the
Small-Pox, which had caused Madam _Pompon_ and several other Servants
to desert her, and had occasioned her sending so peremptorily and
laconically for _Gatty_.

Mrs. _Bowerbank_, when she got to this, laid down the Letter and began
to cry. She said she knew _Gatty_ would take the Infection and die,
or else be marked for life; what a cruel Thing it was of Lady _Betty_
to send for her, especially as her _Ladyship_ had been so afraid of
catching the Fever from _Gatty_. I thought so too, and quite felt for
the poor _Mother_. She said that she would go and take _Gatty_ away
directly, without minding what Lady _Betty_ might think, were it not
now too late to save her from Danger; besides, how could she bring her
Home to her other Children, who had never had the Disease?

Then she went on to finish the Letter, crying over it all the While;
and _Gatty_ proceeded to say, that finding what was required of her,
she recommended herself to GOD, and, having laid aside her travelling
Dress and taken some slight Refreshment, she went straight up to my
_Lady's_ Chamber, where she found Lady _Betty_ in Bed, in very high
Fever, attended only by one of the inferior Servants, quite a low
Person, who had had the Disorder, therefore had Nothing to fear. That
Lady _Betty_, being blinded, did not at first recognise her; but,
catching the Sound of her Voice, cried peremptorily, "Is that _Gatty_,
at last? Then send _Jenny_ away. You are not to leave the Room again,
_Gatty_, but make them bring Everything to you." Since which, _Gatty_
had remained at her Bed-side, where she was now writing, while my
_Lady_ lay in a kind of Stupor, brought on perhaps by her quieting
Medicine; since the Irritation was so great, she could not keep her
Hands off herself, much less sleep. Indeed, once she had bidden _Gatty_
tie her Hands up, that she might not disfigure herself in her Torment;
yet she had soon been unable to keep from fighting at herself again,
and when _Gatty_ had gently tried to stay her, had fiercely cried,
"Isn't my Face my own, to do with as I like?"

Oh poor Lady _Betty_! She that was so vain of her Beauty! and carried
her Head so high! to be laid thus low, and mastered by inexorable
Disease! deserted by her pampered Menials that had flattered her in
Health, and beholden for the commonest Attentions, first to a poor
Scullion, and now to one whom she had inhumanely neglected in her
own Extremity! Was it not a Lesson to poor, purse-proud, puffed-up
Humanity? And was not _Gatty_ like an Angel, returning Good for Evil? I
lay awake thinking of it at Night, for many an Hour.




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XIV.

_The Recal._


That same Evening, at Dusk, as we sat round the Fire, roasting
Chestnuts and Raisins, in comes young Mr. _Heavitree_, buttoned to the
Chin; and his Eyes and Cheeks in such a Glow with Exercise that I could
not help thinking to myself, "What a nice-looking young Man you are!"
He shook Hands very heartily all round, first with Mrs. _Bowerbank_,
next with me; and, addressing me first, "Mrs. _Patty_," says he, "I
come to repair and excuse the Negligence of my stupid Fellow, who
forgot he had taken up at the Post-office two Letters for this House,
and brought one addressed to you on to _Roaring House_."

I eagerly received it; and seeing _Prue's_ Hand, hastily broke the
Seal. At the same Instant, Mrs. _Bowerbank_, in a lamentable Voice,
says, "Oh, Mr. _Heavitree_! only think of our _Gatty_ taking the
Small-Pox!"

He turned so deadly white, that I saw in a Moment how it was with him,
and hastily cried, "Lady _Betty_, you mean, Ma'am, not _Gatty_!"

"But _Gatty_ has no doubt taken it by this Time," says her _Mother_,
"since she is constantly with Lady _Betty_."

Seeing Mr. _Heavitree_ look much agitated, and supposing he might like
to be alone with Mrs. _Bowerbank_, I rose and left the Room, to read my
Letter up-Stairs, thinking she might send the Girls away if she wished.
On running through _Prudence's_ Letter, I was quite disappointed to
find it contain so little, whether of News or Affection. Mr. _Fenwick_
and _Tom_, she never so much as named; my _Mother_, she said, was
pretty well, my _Father_ the same as usual; there were sundry little
Details about our Business, but not a Word I cared to hear; ending with
the same comfortless Burthen, "We can get on perfectly well without
you." I was so tired of the Country, that I had hoped there would have
been some Wish expressed for my Company, which would have been a decent
Pretext for my Return; but no! Nothing of the Sort! I remained musing
over my Letter with great Mortification till I got quite numbed with
Cold, and was roused by hearing the Gate shut. I saw Mr. _Heavitree_
going away; and when I went down, Mrs. _Bowerbank_ was not in the Room,
and the Girls and their Brother were still roasting their Chestnuts.

The next Day was much like the preceding, except that a rapid Thaw
set in. On the Day following that, a Post was due, and _Joe_ was sent
through Mud and Mire to see if there were any Letter from _Gatty_.
There was not; but there was one for me; that made me think I would
never wantonly desire a Pretext for a Recal again. It was from
_Prudence_; but oh, in how different a Spirit from the other! She wrote
in the utmost Hurry and Distress to tell me that my _Father_ had fallen
down Stairs and broken his Leg, and had likewise injured his Head so
much, that Dr. _Elwes_ thought there was a Concussion of the Brain. My
dear _Mother_ and _Prue_ were incessantly in Attendance on him, and
considered him in great Danger; they hoped I would return as soon as I
possibly could.

With my Eyes full of Tears, I went to communicate my bad News to Mrs.
_Bowerbank_, who was vastly distressed for me, and would say Nothing
to delay my Journey, especially now that the Thaw rendered the Roads
much safer. So I packed up at once, and, the next Morning, left them
all with many Thanks for their Kindness. _Joe_, who had become quite my
little Cavalier, accompanied me to the Corner, where we met the Coach,
carrying for me a Basket of the large Cat's-head Apples that some call
"Go-no-farther." I was the only Passenger, and was two Days on the Road
instead of one; but performed the Journey in perfect Safety.

It was quite dark when I reached Home. _Prudence_, hearing my Voice,
flew down Stairs and threw her Arms round my Neck all in Tears. I
wept too, and never was there a more sisterly Meeting. She told me
my dear _Father_ was still very bad; and though my _Mother_ kept up
wonderfully, she was exerting herself so much for him that she would
probably experience a dangerous Re-action. "But what can I do?" says
_Prue_ weeping, "I've hovered about him continually and done my very
best; but whenever he's himself, he doesn't like my Nursing, and says,
'There, let me have your _Mother_ till _Patty_ comes back!'" And she
cried bitterly.

I said, "Dear _Prue_, People when they are ill will take unaccountable
Fancies; and we have a divided Duty, between the Sick-Room and the
Shop. Let us each take that which suits us best; do you attend to the
Business, which you understand so well, and I will help my _Mother_ to
nurse my _Father_."

She said, still crying, "I suppose that will be best; but I love him as
well as you do, and you must let me take my Turn now and then, or my
Heart will break."

I said, "I will, I will;" and all this While I was taking off my Wraps,
and making ready to go up Stairs; but _Prudence_ would make me take a
Dish of Tea first, which was ready poured out, saying, that when I was
once up-Stairs I should be close Prisoner, and my _Father_ could not
bear so much as the Click of a Spoon. She added, "Dr. _Elwes_ is not
afraid of the Brain now; but my _Father_ is of such an inflammatory
Habit that his Fever runs very high, and he is not always himself."

"And Mr. _Fenwick_?" said I. "Is not he truly concerned about it?"

"Mr. _Fenwick_?" cries she, "Why, Mr. _Fenwick_ is not here now!"

"Not here now?" I exclaimed.

"Oh no, he returned to his Parish the Day before _Father's_ Accident,
thinking himself well enough to do Duty now, and we have not heard of
him since."

I was struck dumb. I looked full at _Prudence_, who spoke and carried
herself quite composedly. Seeing me look so hard at her, however, she
blushed all over; Cheek, Neck, and Brow, one hot Flush; and started up
to busy herself about some Trifle.

I felt a Pang, but it was for her, not myself. Poor _Prue_ found
herself deserted! All my old Love for her resumed its Strength; but
there was no Time now for Pity or Complaint--I rose up, saying, "Well,
I will go up-Stairs now; keep yourself up, dear _Prue_; there's no
knowing how much your Strength may be wanted."

"There is not, indeed," said she, bursting into Tears afresh. I could
not stand this--I said, "Come, _Prue_, come, ..." and put my Arm about
her, and she laid her Head on my Shoulder. I was obliged to gulp down
my own Tears, but I said gently, "This will never do--we must not give
way--Only think how much more poor _Father_, and dear _Mother_ too,
have to bear than we have. You must give over Crying, for indeed I
cannot go up till you do."

"You may go now," says she, wiping her Eyes and smiling up at me, "for,
strange as it may seem to you, I'm the better for this Cry. Go up now,
go softly; and send dear _Mother_ down to me presently, if you can, for
she needs Rest and Refreshment."

I said, "I will," and went up. My _Father_ was dozing when I
entered--my _Mother_ sitting beside him, with her Hands clasped
on her Knee. As soon as she saw me, she mutely held out her Arms
without rising; and the next Instant I was folded to her Heart. We
spoke a little in Whispers; and for a While I thought not nor desired
to persuade her to go. At length I did; and she, after a little
Resistance, yielded; for she was very much exhausted. I quietly took
her Place, and remained in it a long While, inactive in Body, but with
a Mind how busy!

Home, at last! and to a Scene how changed! Everything as still and
quiet as on _Larkfield_ Moor! He that had been the Life of many a
noisy, convivial Party, laid low--perhaps rapidly drawing nigh an
unknown World. My _Mother_, roused from her incapable State by strong
Affection; _Prue_, loving me again, and in Tears--Mr. _Fenwick_ gone!

What a Dream this World seems sometimes! Besides, my Head was mazed
with my Journey, and I was stiff with so much Jolting, and the
Closeness and Warmth of the Chamber after the biting Cold of the outer
Air made me feel drowsy. But I would not yield to it.

A Coffin flew out of the Fire. I was thankful not to be superstitious.
But yet I'd as lief it had been a Purse.

I thought of _Gatty's_ lone Watch; and how much harder her Post was
than mine. I was not incurring personal Danger in the Service of an
imperious, unfeeling Patient; I was not separated from a Mother and
Sister whom I loved; I was watching over some one very dear to me.
Thinking of her and of my _Father_ and _Mother_, I framed my Thoughts
to Prayer. Suddenly my _Father_, without opening his Eyes, murmured,
"_Delia!_ Give me your Hand!... Poor _Delia_, I have been very untoward
to thee--"

Silently, I placed my Hand in his. _Cordelia_ was my _Mother's_ Name,
but he was accustomed to call her _Delia_ for short; or rather, _had_
been accustomed, in their old Days of Love and Harmony. I took it for
a good Sign, his calling her so again; it showed that his Illness and
her Tenderness had melted him. I always liked his Abbreviation of her
Name, myself, though _Prue_ thought it only fit for a China Shepherdess.

"Who have I got hold of?" says he. "This isn't _Delia's_ Hand!--Ah,
I see the Shadow of _Patty's_ Nose against the Bed-curtain. Welcome,
Child! come, kiss thy poor old _Dad_."

Daddy, again, was a Word he never used but lovingly. I stooped over
him, and kissed him two or three Times; then set him completely to
rights, for his Head had slipped off the Pillow, and he was lying very
uncomfortably, without the Power to right himself.

"You're a prime one!" says he. "Thy dear _Mother_ has no Strength to
handle me, though the Will's ne'er a-wanting; and I can't bear her to
move me for fear of her doing herself a Hurt. As for _Prue_, she does
nought but sit by the Fire and sigh! But thou'rt able and willing both,
_Patty_; so keep about me all you can."

I promised him I would, and he soon became again quiet. _Prudence_
presently stole in; and in dumb Show bade me go down to sup with my
_Mother_. As my _Father_ seemed sleeping, I did so, and had a long Talk
with dear _Mother_; after which, I prevailed with her to sleep with
_Prue_, and let me keep Watch, assuring her I was quite fresh. She
consented at length, from sheer Incapacity to hold out any longer; and,
after a good Meal, I went up and took my Sister's Place. Shortly, the
House became perfectly silent, and the distant Clocks struck Twelve.

I sate by the Fire, musing on many Things and Persons, and a good deal
of Mr. _Fenwick_; and, before I was aware, large Tears were quietly
rolling down my Face. I was not pleased with my late Conduct of my own
Mind, and resolved on more Self-control and Self-discipline. While
framing these seasonable Resolutions, a Strain of low, sweet, solemn
Music stole through the Air. The Christmas Waits were playing beneath
some distant Window, and at the End of their soft Melody, I could make
out by the Rhythm, though not by the Articulation, the poor Musicians
crying out:

    "_The Chelsea Waits make bold to call,
    Good-morrow to you; Masters and Mistresses all._"

I dreaded their waking my _Father_ as they drew nearer, but there
was no Help for it. I rested my Head against the high Back of the
Nursing-chair, in a Kind of dreamy, lazy Luxury, listening to the
lovely Sounds; and called to Mind the old Text, "Ye shall have a Song
in the Night; as when some holy Solemnity is kept."

Ah, thought I, we are apt to fancy ourselves in the Blackness of
Darkness, when any Sorrow or Bereavement comes over us, and yet our
good GOD sends us a Song in the Night!--The poor Shepherds in the
Fields of _Bethlehem_ lay watching their Flocks by Night, when all
seemed dark and dreary, but suddenly a Light shone upon them, and they
heard sweet Music in the Air, even sweeter than that which I hear now.

Then I thought of the Manger, and the holy Child, and the Mother; and
the wise Men following the Star. The Folds of the Window-curtains were
a little apart, and I could see the Stars glimmering.

All at once, my _Father_, in a hurried Voice, exclaims, "They're moving
now!"

"What, dear _Father_?" said I softly, looking in on him.

"Cover them up! cover them up!" cries he rapidly; "tie their Legs, or
they'll set my Head spinning--Hey, diddle diddle! the Cat plays the
Fiddle; and the Shepherdess is _gavotting_ with the Turnspit! Lock 'em
up, I say! Dash them in Pieces! Break them!"

"Hush, dear _Father_, hush--" said I gently; but he was quite
unconscious of my Presence, or of anything about him, and grew more
and more light-headed. Had I not previously nursed _Gatty_ in her
Deliration, I should have been even more terrified than I was: at all
Events, it was awful Work; it was more fearful to hear a strong Man
raving than the lunatic Ramblings of a gentle Girl. But what Help was
there for it? I must e'en do the best I could. He tossed his Arms about
wildly; and once or twice made as though he would start up; but the
Splint on his Leg prevented that. Then he groaned heavily, gnashed
his Teeth, called for Drink, rolled his Eyes, shuddered, and finally
subsided into fitful Mutterings. Gradually these yielded to Stupor;
I looked in on him from Time to Time, hoping to find him asleep, but
there were his half-open, unwinking Eyes, glaring at me, without any
Token of Recognition. I do not know that my Strength was ever more
sorely tried.

Towards Day-dawn he slumbered. I am ashamed to say, I dropped asleep
too; it was not for long, I believe, yet when I woke up, the Fire
was nearly out; and _Prue_, in her Dressing-Jacket, was on her Knees
before it, stealthily reviving it. She put her Finger on her Lips, then
came to me and kissed me. The snapping of a very small Stick woke my
restless _Father_, who, no longer in his Fever-fit, and excessive low
and sinking, cries in a feeble Voice, "Who's there? _Prue_, I know, by
her Sighing! Go, get me some spiced Wine and Toast, for I'm ebbing away
as fast as I can."

"He always talks like that, when he comes to," whispers _Prue_, seeing
me look frightened. "We dare not give him Wine, but Tea and Toast he
shall have. I will bring it him directly; and then you shall go down
and have some too, while I stay with him, for you look completely worn
out."

In fact, I felt so just then; and though quite ashamed to be knocked
up with one Night's Nursing, yet my two Days' Journey began to tell
upon me; and I felt, that to husband my Strength for what probably
lay before me, I must take common Precautions. Therefore, when _Prue_
brought up my _Father's_ Breakfast, I went down to mine.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XV.

_Mr. Honeywood's Fancies._


Though the Sun had not yet risen, I found a bright little Fire already
kindled in the Parlour, and the little oval Table drawn close to it,
and spread for Breakfast, with strong Tea and hot Toast awaiting me
on the Hob. I felt very grateful to _Prudence_ for this Kindness; and
had scarce seated myself when I heard the soft Tap of my _Mother's_
Ivory-headed Walking-cane as she came down Stairs. I hastened to
receive her; she kissed my Forehead, and then looked at me with anxious
Affection.

"You are weary, my dear Love," said she, "and no wonder. What kind of
a Night?"

"He was feverish, dear _Mother_."

"And wandering, doubtless--I see it was so. Were you frightened?"

"Not much--you know I had nursed _Gatty_."

"Ah, poor _Gatty_!--a very different Patient--"

"Yes, _Mother_; but his Ramblings gave me no Distress, except as
they betokened the height of his Fever--He fancied himself playing
Cards:--and seemed to think People were dancing. He spoke very kindly
of you."

My _Mother_ wiped her Eyes. "That has been the solitary Alleviation all
along," said she. "His old Liking for me has returned."

After we had breakfasted, she accompanied me to his Chamber: "Ah,
you're come at last," said my _Father_, feebly extending his Hand to
her, "I was wearying of _Prue's_ Sighs."

"Dear _Father_, I haven't been sighing," said _Prudence_, hastily.

"Oh, haven't you though, Mrs. _Prue_?"--She put her Hand before her
Eyes, and silently quitted the Room.

"My Love, how are you?" says my _Mother_ to him.

"I've had fine Company all Night, Mrs. _Honeywood_. I've been to the
queerest Ball!--Ah, you think I'm wandering, but I'm not--my Head is as
clear as yours. At twelve o'Clock at Night, a Flourish of Tin Trumpets
announced the Commencement of the Entertainment."

My _Mother_ looked at me in Distress.

"An old Joss in the Corner," continues he, "played the Hautboy.
A Mandarin kept Time, nodding his Head. Then, down came the Five
Senses--you think I've lost mine, but I haven't!--followed by the
Shepherds and Shepherdesses, all in _Chelsea_ China, and took their
respective Places. A Row of _Dresden_ Cups were the Bystanders, backed
by some richly painted Plates against the Wall. Bang! went the Drum.
The Ball immediately opened, and I knew not which Dancer most to
admire. Such sinking! such rising! such easy Turns and Inflections;
such pointing of Toes and presenting of Hands! Meantime, the Music
plays faster and faster; the Joss blows himself out of Breath, the
Mandarin niddle-noddles, till it makes one's Head spin to look at
him. Down falls a Dragon and gets cracked; the others fall and sprawl
over him; never mind, he's up again, and they're at it harder than
ever. Hands across, down the Middle, turn the Corners and pousette! My
Head is too weak to bear it; a small Cream-Ewer invites me into the
Card-room. Gratefully I accept it, when one of the Senses assails me,
insisting I shall dance the Minuet _de la Cour_. I put her aside, she
returns, I burst from her, she pursues; I hurry into the Card-room,
where four respectable _Chinese_ are playing at Loo. They make Room
for me, I sit down, we get on very comfortably together; when lo you!
in burst the Five Senses again, calling me a Recreant, and I know not
what all, plucking at me, nipping, pinching, grinning in my Face; the
Music playing furiously all the While--They cry out the Prices at which
I bought them; one of them names the wrong Sum. I exclaim, 'That's
false!' and give her a Cuff that breaks her all to smash. 'Going,
going, going, gone!' cries the Auctioneer in the Corner. Down goes his
Hammer: the Ball is ended. Why, Mrs. _Honeywood_, Ma'am, you're crying!"

Just then, Dr. _Elwes_ very opportunely came in, with his grave, kind
Face. The Sound of his Voice seemed to re-collect my Father's scattered
Faculties; he did not appear half so bad as he had done before;
nevertheless, I could see the good Physician thought unfavourably of
him. In short, for several Days he hung between Life and Death; after
that, he wandered no more, and slowly amended; requiring incessant and
vigilant Nursing.

It was one Day, when _Prue_ and my Mother had insisted on my going down
Stairs for a little Change, that, on entering the Parlour, I suddenly
came on Mr. _Fenwick_. "Ah!"--said he, and held out his Hand. Overcome
by the Surprise, I turned aside my Head, and burst into Tears. The next
Moment, his Arm was round my Waist; and as quickly withdrawn.

"Dear _Patty_!" said he.

I drew back, and would have left the Room, but he gently detained me,
and led me to a Chair next the Fire.

"I was quite unprepared to hear of this domestic Calamity," said he,
"and have been greatly moved by it. Your good Mother has been telling
me how admirably you have behaved. She wept about it, and said never
was such a Daughter."

This set my Tears flowing again--I said there was Nothing out of the
Common in a Daughter's tending of a Parent she loved. He did not
dwell on it; but went on to talk as only a good, feeling, and faithful
Minister, a holy, high-minded, heavenly spirited Servant of God can
talk. I know not how long this delightful Conversation lasted; perhaps
an Hour; and when he went away, he said he would soon come again. From
that Moment, I was a new Creature: quite fresh, quite able to return
anew to my Post. My Heart was full of Peace. If the Body sometimes
bears down the Mind, the Mind sometimes wondrously sustains the Body.

This was, however, a joyless Christmas to us all. Not one of the Family
was able to leave the House to go to Church; and though roast Beef and
Plum-pudding were dressed, they were sparingly and sadly partaken of.
My loved Mother forgot not, however, to send Portions to sundry poor
Widows and Mothers who were habituated to come to us for our stale
Pastry, Broken-meat, and Cinders.

When my _Father_ began to recover a little, he became curious to hear
me talk about my Visit to _Larkfield_; and he made me minutely describe
_Gatty's_ Family, and the Family at _Roaring House_. In a very little
While he settled it to his own Satisfaction that _Gatty_ would some
Day be Mrs. _Heavitree_. But when he heard of her being recalled to
Servitude by Lady _Betty_, of her perilous, protracted Journey, and
of her finding my Lady in the Small-Pox, he became greatly perturbed.
"What," says he, "have not one of you had so much Humanity nor even so
much Curiosity, (a Quality, one would think, not often lacking in your
Sex,) as to ascertain whether this poor Girl sink or swim?"

"Dear _Father_, we have been so busied about you...."

"Fiddlesticks' Ends! I have never had more than one of you about me
at a Time; and has everything else been at a Stand-still? Have your
Shop-shutters been put up, have your Customers been kept out, have you
intermitted your Baking and your Milking? Pshaw! I'm nauseated with
such a false Excuse. If you couldn't go, you might write; if you could
not write, you might send; if you could not spare one of the Men, you
might have sent a Boy for Two-pence. Let me hear by To-morrow Morning,
I insist upon't, whether Mrs. _Gatty_ be alive or dead."

He was quite in a Turmoil about it, and for my Part, I was glad enough
to be commissioned to send; and as _Peter_ knew the House, I contrived
he should go that same Afternoon, and ask for Mr. _James_, and inquire
how fared Mrs. _Gatty_ and Lady _Betty_--bidding him be sure he put
Lady _Betty's_ Name first, or they would think we knew no Manners.

So he went, and brought back Word, with Mr. _James'_ Services, that my
_Lady_ was still very ill, and still kept her Chamber, and so did Mrs.
_Gatty_.

I said, "Did he mean Mrs. _Gatty_ was confined to her own Chamber or to
my _Lady's_? for that makes all the Difference."

_Peter_ says, "Well, Ma'am, I understood him to mean she kept my
_Lady's_ Chamber; but I gave you the very Words he said."

So I gave them, just the same, to my _Father_.

"Blockhead! Dunderhead!" exclaimed he impatiently. "Well, if she's in
her Chamber, she's not in the Churchyard at any Rate--And I shall soon
be able to spare you, _Patty_, to go and see how she really is."

That Night _Prudence_ and I slept together, for the first Time since
my Return Home. Before that, I had lain in the little Closet close to
my _Father's_ Room, to be within Call. We undressed silently enough,
and I noticed again the great Depression she had betrayed ever since my
Return; but yet I was as quiet as she.

When the Candle was put out, she crept closer to me; and though
she was quiet for a While, I had an Impression she was going to say
Something. At length, "_Patty_," says she,--and I could perceive her
Voice was unsteady, "did you ever know what a Burthen it was to have
Something on your Mind that you longed, yet feared, to tell?"

"Well," said I, "I can form some Notion of the Pain it must give."

"I have that Pain," says she, and fell a crying.

I said, "Come, _Prue_, tell me what it is. We didn't use to have any
Secrets from one another."

"Nor needed to have," says she in her Tears--"All that's altered now."

"Why should it be?" said I. She made no Answer.

"Come, what is it?" I said.

"Don't you remember saying to me, 'How fine we are!' a Day or two
back," says _Prue_, "when you noted a Ruby Ring on my Finger?"

"A _Mock_ Ruby, you mean! It's a Glass Ring, if ever there was one! I
told you, if I wore Jewels at all, they should be real."

"Yes, and I said Nothing, and I dare say you thought I was sulky, but I
wasn't. People often make great Mistakes in judging others. Well, that
Ring was given me by _Tom_."

"It wouldn't ruin him then," said I laughing. "Unless indeed, poor
Fellow, as is like enough, 'twas palmed upon him for a real Stone.
Well, _Prue_, is this what all the Sighing has been about? You needn't
break your Heart, I think, at having accepted it of him."

"Don't laugh, or you'll kill me," says _Prudence_, "it's no laughing
Matter, I can tell you. It don't matter whether the Stone be real or
false; but, in fact, it's a Wedding ... no, a Guard-Ring."

"A _what_?" cried I. "Do say it over again!" But she was crying
passionately.

"What's this about Wedding and Guard-Rings, _Prue_? Do you mean to say
you are _married_?"

"Oh _Patty_! don't speak so unkindly--I can't bear it."

"I don't mean to be unkind,"--and I kissed her. "But you rack me with
Suspense. Do speak out! Are you, _can_ you be married to _Tom_?"

"Whether or no, I'm engaged to him quite as irrevocably, I assure you,
_Patty_."

"You amaze and distress me beyond Measure," said I.

"I knew you would be very angry with me," said she.

"Angry? why should I be angry? There's no Reason why _Tom_ and you
should not marry, if you like it, except his Profession, and his being
unable to keep a Wife. Two serious Exceptions, I admit."

"So serious, _Patty_, that I fear my _Father_ and _Mother_ would never
overlook them--Oh! how angry my _Father_ would be! I should never hear
the Last of it."

"Well, he _would_ be angry, I dare say, but it would not be the first
Time; and you generally bear his Rebukes pretty sturdily. If I were in
love with _Tom_, I think I could stand that."

"Do you indeed, dear _Patty_? Ah, but you don't know the Worst."

"What _is_ the Worst, then?" cried I impatiently--"Say in a Word." But
she could not speak it.

"I can't make Head nor Tail of it," said I--"It seems such an
unaccountable Business. I thought you cared for Mr. _Fenwick_."

"Mr. _Fenwick_? Oh, _Patty_! how _could_ you be such a Goose?"

"Well, _Prue_, I chanced to see him one Day holding you by the Hand at
his Window, and talking very earnestly."

"Why, he was talking about _Tom_, and advising me not to go to the
Play!"

"Was that it? Dear me!"

"Yes; and--and--You know, _Patty, Tom_ paid me a good Deal of Attention
from the First; and somehow I was won by it, there's Something so
sincere and genuine about him. And he's very diverting too, and the
Soul of Good-humour--in short, I liked him very much; all the better
for his liking me, and telling me so whenever we went out together.
Well, when he went Home with the Monkey, I missed him sadly; and as you
were very short upon me about that Time, I thought you saw how it was
and didn't like it; which made me vex a good Deal. When he came back,
I was very glad; and when you were gone, he kept staying on, till it
was Time to return to his Ship. The last Walk we took together, which
was when he was on the very Brink of Sailing, out it all came! he made
me a downright Offer, and said you knew all about it, he had spoken to
you at the _Old Angel_, and you were favourable. Well, this encouraged
me, and so I as good as said yes, only I told him I knew _Father_ and
_Mother_ would be hurt at it, on such a short Courting, and therefore
could not tell them of it till he returned from his next Voyage. _Tom_
was quite willing; for what good would it have done him? only he begged
and prayed me to keep constant to him, and not be over-persuaded, while
he was away, to have any one else; which of course I promised. So we
walked along together as merry as Birds, though on the Point of parting
for two Years, without much noting Anything going on around us, till
we were forced to pause by a Knot of People on the Pavement, seeing a
fine Lady get out of a Hackney-Coach. _Tom_ drew me closer to him; and
at the same Moment a Man in a black Coat pops his Face under _Tom's_
Hat, and says, 'Will you like to be married, Sir?' _Tom_ bursts out
laughing with Surprise, and says, 'Aye, that I should, my Lad!' and the
Man taking him by the Shoulders and giving him a Push, we were under a
little Gothic Doorway the next Minute. A gay bridal Party coming out,
pressed us against the Wall. 'Dear _Tom_,' whispered I fearfully, 'what
Place is this? It's no Church.' 'Not a bit of it,' replies he, smiling,
'but yet here's a Parson marrying People, many of them of Quality too;
and though I don't suppose he can tie a very tight Knot, it will serve
to keep you engaged to me till I come back; and then we'll have a merry
Wedding, with Mr. _Fenwick_ for our Parson.' And oh, _Patty_, he took
me so by Surprise that I was over-persuaded!"




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XVI.

_The Imprudence of Prudence._


"I never heard tell of such a Thing in my Life!" cried I, breathlessly.

"Ah, I knew you'd say so," said _Prudence_, lapsing into Tears. "It was
so very silly."

"Silly? Wicked! Such a Mockery! You don't call it a real Marriage, I
hope!"

"Oh dear, no. But if you were in my Place, you wouldn't consider
yourself at Liberty to marry another?"

"I can't fancy myself in your Place, _Prudence_! I would not have done
such a Thing for the World! Certainly, I could not consider myself
free! Nor _him_ secure! Fleet Marriages, I know, are binding in Law;
but there's no Religion in them. Have you got a Certificate?"

"Oh yes, a License, and a Certificate, and a Crown Stamp that cost a
Guinea; and a Ring--"

"That cost Two-pence! All of a Piece with the Rest. I never knew such a
Jumble in all my Life! Never!"

"It was great Folly--"

"You know, _Prue_, what Mr. _Fenwick_ told us Folly is synonymous with
in Scripture--_Sin_. 'The Foolishness of Fools is Folly'--He told us
that was the same as 'the Foolishness of Fools is _Sin_.'"

"Oh, _Patty_, don't trample upon me, now I'm down. I've vexed enough
about it, already. That is, I've vexed about what you, and _Mother_,
and _Father_, would think of it; for I must say, I'm glad to be secure
of _Tom_ against he next comes Home--"

"You might have been secure of him already; if his Love was worth
Anything, which I can readily believe it to be. You might have trusted
him."

"I might; and he me. It was only the Folly of a Moment."

"Ah, _Prue_, how often has the Folly of a Moment been the Ruin of a
Life! This Man was a Clergyman, I suppose?"

"Oh yes, no doubt of that. He was a Reverend Mr. _Sympson_, of some
College, _Cambridge_, and late Chaplain of the Earl of _Rothes_. So he
said."

"That's well put in."

"Well, he looked quite respectable, and you know there are many Clergy
within the Rules. Don't be too suspicious, _Patty_."

"Why, haven't I good Reason to be, _Prue_? Only it's all too late,
now--Oh dear me!" And I groaned heavily.

"Yes, it's all too late now," said _Prue_ rapidly, "and I meant no
Harm, and we must make the best of it, and I feel a great Load off my
Mind, now I've told _you_--"

"Why, you've only shifted it from your own Mind to mine! I don't feel
at all obliged to you!"

"Well, perhaps poor _Mother_ might say the same; so we had better not
tell her."

"Oh, _Prue, Prue_! how one Sin leads to another! The Case is quite
different. She has a _right_ to her Child's Confidence."

"Why, _you_ don't tell her Everything, do you?"

"What have I ever concealed?"

"That you care about Mr. _Fenwick_."

The Blood rushed to my Face, though we were in the Dark. "That's quite
another Matter," said I. "You don't know that I care for him."

"Oh _Patty_! how _can_ you say so?"

"At all Events, he has never shown me any decided Preference that would
justify me, as a modest young Woman, in letting his Name escape my
Lips. You know, _Prudence_, how different the Cases are. Certainly, if
my dear _Mother_, who is all Kindness and Truth, were to think fit to
speak to me on that or any similar Subject, I might blush, I might shed
a Tear, I might feel very uncomfortable, but I should answer her with
perfect Sincerity."

"Ah _Patty_! you are very good--And I am very bad--"

"Nay, I won't hear you say that of yourself. You have certainly been
very, very foolish."

"And 'the Foolishness of Fools is Sin.'" Here she again wept.

"Well, _Prue_, if it _be_ so, still we know what is to be done."

"What? Oh, tell me!"

"'I will arise, and go unto my Father, and will say unto him--'"

"Oh, not to my _Father_!"

"'To my _Mother_, and will say unto her, _Mother_, I have....'"

My own Tears here burst forth. I believe they, and the few Words of
the Text I had cited proved the best Eloquence; for in an Instant
_Prue_ was clinging to me, choking in Tears, and saying, "I will! I
will!"

Overcome by our Emotions, we said no more till we slept, I holding her
to my Heart, full of Love and Pity, though perturbed beyond Expression
at her Conduct.

My _Father_ requiring so much of our Care, it was seldom that we were
all three together; however, the next Day, after he had dined with more
Comfort to himself than usual, he folded his Hands together and said,
"Thank GOD for my good Dinner! And now I'll have a Nap, and you may all
go down Stairs till I pull the Bell."

Some trifling Affair prevented my immediately joining my _Mother_ and
_Sister_. When I went into the Parlour, I found _Prue_ had just screwed
her Courage to the Point of Confession. "_Mother_," she was saying,
"I've done so wrong--" and began to cry.

"What is it, _Prue_?" said my _Mother_ gently, who was blanching
Almonds.

"Say first, _Mother_, that you'll forgive me--"

"Nay, let me first hear what I have to forgive. I am not such a very
unforgiving Person, Child, am I?"

"No indeed, _Mother_!" kissing her Hand. "But oh! I don't know what
you'll say! I'm engaged to _Tom_!"

"I guessed as much long ago," said my _Mother_ coolly.

"You did!"

"Yes--you were very poor Secret-keepers, _Prue_; clumsy Adepts in
Concealment! I guessed, ever since he went, that that Glass Ring was a
Love-token."

_Prue_ blushed very deeply. "Ah," said she, fluttering, and looking
with downcast Fondness on the slighted Bauble, "it _is_ a Love-token,
indeed, _Mother_! and even more than that."

"What more?" said my _Mother_ quickly. _Prudence_ was silent.

"You don't mean, _Prudence_," with some Agitation in her Tone, "that
it's a Wedding Ring?"

"What if it were, dear _Mother_?" (faltering)--"Should you be very
angry?"

"I should be angry and hurt--deeply hurt!"

"Ah--" _Prue_, who was kneeling beside my _Mother_, turned her Head
aside and looked into the Fire.

"Speak, _Patty_!" said my Mother, much perturbed, "and tell me if you
can--since your _Sister_ will not--Has there been a Marriage?"

"A Fleet-Marriage, or Something of that Sort," said I, reluctantly.

"A Fleet-Marriage?" cried my _Mother_, holding up her Hands, and
sinking back in her Chair.

"_Mother! Mother!_ hear me," cries _Prue_, casting her Arms across
my _Mother's_ knees and looking up at her. "We parted at the
Church-door,--House-door, I mean; we knew we were only engaged; we did
not look on it as a regular Marriage,--only as binding us together a
little--it was the Thought of a Moment--_Tom_ proposed it first--"

"I suppose so," said my _Mother_, with a Tone of infinite Scorn; "but
I little thought that a Daughter of mine could be so persuaded. Oh
_Prue, Prue_! I never could have believed it of you! No Wonder you have
gone about sighing and hanging your Head--it has been your only Act of
Grace."

_Prue_, humiliated beyond Expression at these Reproaches, was crying
silently--"Don't tell my _Father_," at length said she.

"Certainly I shall not," said my _Mother_, still chafed. "I should
be quite ashamed of mentioning such a disgraceful Transaction to
him--worthier of a _Wapping_ Sailor than of his Brother's Son--Mate to
a respectable Merchant Vessel. A Thing only done by the Lowest of the
Low--"

"And a few of the Highest of the High," put in I.

"Who thereby reduce themselves to an ignominious Level with the Lowest
of the Low," persisted my _Mother_. "It ought to be put down by Act
of Parliament! It _will_ shortly, I understand from Dr. _Elwes_, who
was speaking of the Abuse a little While ago, little thinking that a
Culprit stood in his Presence. I never could have believed it of _Tom_!
never have supposed that he could so abuse a Mother's Confidence, and
sail off, leaving Dissimulation and Discord behind him--he that used to
say 'he couldn't bear to put People to the least Inconvenience!'"

At the Recurrence to this old Catch-Word of his, _Prue_ and I could
neither of us help bursting out laughing. My _Mother_, quite against
her Will, was obliged to laugh too. At this Moment, the Door opened;
and who should come in but _Gatty_!

I sprang towards her, while _Prue_, with a brief Word in passing, took
the Opportunity to escape.

"Are you not afraid of coming near me?" said _Gatty_ smiling, as I
kissed her.

"Oh no! _Our_ Time came long ago; no Danger of Infection here! But,
dear _Gatty_, we have been in such Suspense about you! Have you not
been ill?"

"No, I have been mercifully preserved--_James_ told me you had sent
to inquire how I was getting on; and as Lady _Betty_ is a good deal
softened towards me just now, I had not much Difficulty in prevailing
with her to let me come out for a few Hours, and I thought I would put
your Fears at rest by coming to you."

Finding she could stay, we made her remove her damp Cloak and Calash,
and take an early Dish of Tea with us. We had a long Fireside Chat;
and my _Mother_ at length going up to my _Father_, who had slept long,
_Gatty_ became more unreserved with me, and I soon drew from her all
that had happened.

It appeared that Mr. _Heavitree_ had proposed to her during their Walk
from _Roaring House_; but she then considered herself engaged for
the Time to Lady _Betty_, so as she could not in Honour nor Justice
draw back; and therefore she would not hear of giving up her Journey
to Town, though she promised to give Lady _Betty_ Notice that she
should leave her Service as soon as her _Ladyship_ was suited. On the
following Day, when they journeyed together, Mr. _Heavitree_ renewed
his Suit, and obtained from her that she would quit Lady _Betty_ at
the very earliest Day she decently could; after which they talked over
their Prospect of mutual Happiness with great Satisfaction, till the
Coach overturned. When _Gatty_ reached Town and found Lady _Betty_ in
the Small-Pox, she was a good deal astounded, not being quite clear
whether she were exempt from it or not; however, she thought her Duty
lay plainly before her, and embraced it with as good a Grace as she
could. Being her _Ladyship's_ sole Attendant, her Post was arduous;
however, she filled it so as to secure very thorough Satisfaction,
though very little Gratitude; Lady _Betty_ being one of those who
think Gold can requite any Amount of Obligation; at least, as far as
the Lower Orders are concerned. And what Amount of Gold, then, had my
_Lady_ bestowed on the young Creature who, under Providence, had saved
her Life at the Risk of her own? An Annuity? A Purse full of Guineas?
No such Thing! An old Gold Snuff-Box, presented to her _Ladyship's_
Grandfather by the obscure Members of some forgotten Corporation! A
Thing of no earthly Consideration to her _Ladyship_; though _Gatty_
guessed that if sold by the Ounce, it might fetch her seven or perhaps
ten Guineas.

But Lady _Betty_ was in a dreadful Way about her Face--all marked
and seamed; and her fine Complexion quite gone! And though, _Gatty_
said, 'twas hoped when the Redness had gone off, that she would not
look so bad, yet the Disorder had left an Impress of Ordinariness, of
Commoness behind it, as is not unfrequent, that went sadly against
the Stomach of my _Lady_. And when I said I should have thought that
a Personage who set such Store by herself, would have been blinded by
Self-prepossession, to any falling off, _Gatty_ said 'twas quite the
other Way; for her _Ladyship_ was so well acquainted with every good
Point about her, that she was Lynx-eyed to the smallest Deficience, and
more intolerant of it than any indifferent Party could be. Whereby it
befel that she was ready to dash into Pieces every Looking-glass in the
House, and would have them covered up, and would only sit in a Chamber
artfully darkened, and would not for the Present let any Man get Sight
of her, nor even any of her favourite female Friends, though she was
quite well enough to receive them, so much dreaded she their spreading
disparaging Reports. She meant to go down to some Watering-place where
she was unknown, and there lead a hermetical Life directly the Weather
was fine enough; having a Notion that the Sea Air would take off the
Redness. Meanwhile, she kept _Gatty_ on hard Duty all Day long, playing
Picquet and reading Novels; and _Gatty_ said she only wished they were
in some Language she did not understand, for she feared so much trashy
Reading must impair her Mind in spite of her Repugnance to it. And
when my _Lady_ had Nothing better to do, she abused _Gatty_ for not
tying her Hands when she was worst at all Hazards, rather than let her
tear at her Face like as one would hackle Flax; averring it would have
been better to die than to live such a Fright. However, _Gatty_ said
she knew that had not been her _Ladyship's_ Mind at the Time, and she
did not consider that she should have been borne out in it. She said
she had now learnt at last the Value of Lap-dogs and Parrots, for they
helped to divert Lady _Betty_ from her mortifying Reflections more than
Anything else. And there was this Good gained, that my Lady now always
made her begin and end the Day with reading Prayers and a Chapter; and
though she did not seem to attend much, yet Nobody knew but some good
Word might make itself heard at last.

Having thus relieved her Mind, _Gatty_ was inclined to hear of our
own Affairs while we were taking Tea. She was very sorry to hear
of my _Father's_ sad Accident; and, learning from _Prue_ that he
would be very glad to shake Hands with her if she did not mind going
into his sick-Chamber, where he was now promoted to an easy Chair
by the Fire, she stepped up to him with me, and enlivened him for
Half-an-Hour with her cheerful Talk. Of course he rallied her about
Mr. _Heavitree_,--that was to be expected,--but she took it very
bravely, and gave him back Quip for Crank; yet all so modest and
innocent-spoken, as the Jest of a Girl like _Gatty_ was certain to be.
And somehow, by Way of Lady _Betty_, she got round, quite naturally, to
Something serious, about Life and Death, Judgment and Eternity, that my
_Father_ took better of her than he would have done from us, and that
left us all with our Minds in a State of serious Composedness.

[Illustration]




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XVII.

_Mr. Honeywood's Convalescence._


When _Prue_ and I made up our Books at the Year's End, we found to our
great Thankfulness and Satisfaction, that in spite of our having paid
many heavy Bills of my _Father's_, we were on the right Side the Post,
and had cleared a good Year's Income. And this I told my _Father_ in so
many Words, thinking it would please him as well as ourselves.

"Humph!" said he; "'In spite of having paid many of your _Father's_
heavy Bills.' This carries an ill Sound with it. And the Sense is
worse. Many a Father grudges paying his thoughtless Son's bills: well
may industrious Daughters grudge paying the Bills of a thoughtless
Father--"

"Dear _Father_! I'm sure we don't grudge--"

"Silence, Mrs. _Patty_! If I'm falling into a profitable and penitent
State of Mind, why should you hinder me? Do you want Nobody to be good
but yourself? That's your Pride. I've got my Share of Self-Knowledge
and Humiliation, I hope, as well as other People; and when I say
I've been thoughtless, _Madam_, (smiting the Table with his Fist,) I
seriously mean it!"

As Mr. _Fenwick_ had just been talking with him, I attributed this
virtuous Self-Indignation to his Influence, and only hoped it might
last. My _Father_ and he were now mighty Friends: although we were so
far from _Shoreditch_, Mr. _Fenwick_ stepped over to us at least once
a Week, saying he could not forget our Attentions to himself during
his Illness, and considered us as a kind of Out-Parishioners. On these
Occasions he frequently spent an Hour alone with my _Father_, and then
joined us at the Tea-Table, which was profitable to the one Party and
pleasant to the other.

At Length, it became practicable to remove my _Father_ down Stairs.
But before this was accomplished, he beckoned to my _Mother_ and said,
"_Delia_, I prithee cover up or hide away all the China Figures down
Stairs before I come into the _Chinese_ Parlour, or they will bring
my Dream to Mind, and set me fancying I see 'em all dancing. Anything
but that! I loathe the very Thought of them!--You may sell them if
you will--send them to _Dick Harper_ with my Card, and they'll fetch
a pretty Figure at the next Auction, especially if you throw in the
Five Senses. Idle Baggages! they led me astray, as they've led many a
better Man before me. Happy he who can disembarrass himself from their
Extravagancies thus easily!"

My _Mother_ did, in Fact, get a pretty little Sum for them; and my
_Father_ never bought another Piece of China nor attended another
Auction from that Day to this. But this by the Way.

We were sitting very comfortably about the Fire, congratulating
ourselves upon being thus re-united,--and my _Father_ was enjoying a
Basin of strong Gravy Soup, (for it was a little before Noon,) and
wishing my _Mother_ would have a little of it, when all at once down
fell a Smelling-Bottle from the Chimney-Piece; a Water-Caraffe on
the Table upset; Doors banged, Bells rang without being pulled, the
Walls shook, and the Ground sank and rose under us like a Ship at
Sea. We shrieked out, and clung to one another; and I, in addition to
my Terror, experienced great Nausea, as if I were on Shipboard. My
_Father_ immediately exclaimed, "Heyday! there's a Powder-Mill blown up
at _Hounslow_!"

"God pity the poor Creatures in and about it," cries my _Mother_. The
next Moment, in rushes _Peter_, as white as a Sheet.

"An Earthquake! an Earthquake!" cries he, "Did you feel the Earthquake?"

"Earthquake? you Dolt," says my _Father_; "'tis a Powder-Mill blown up
at _Hounslow_, I tell ye; and so you'll find before To-morrow."

"Well, Sir," says _Peter_, "all the Neighbours say as I do, and are
scared out of their Wits, expecting another Shock presently, which, for
Aught we know, may swallow us up alive."

"_Peter_, you're an Oaf--a Lubber!" says my _Father_ contemptuously; on
which _Peter_ retired; but _Prue_, who was much frightened, began to
cry.

"What's the use of crying, Chit?" says my _Father_, "is that a Cure for
an Earthquake?"

"No, _Father_, but it's so very awful--"

"Very awful," said my _Mother_, seriously.

"Very awful indeed," said I.

"Well, of course it would be, if it _were_ an Earthquake," says my
_Father_; "but I say 'twas only a Powder-Mill blowing up somewhere, and
so you'll see."

When the Apothecary who had set _Father's_ Leg came in, however, he
confirmed the general Opinion that there had been a smart Shock of
an Earthquake, and added that it had been accompanied by what we had
not noticed, namely, a loud crashing or crackling Noise. Everybody
that came into the Shop spoke about it; and there was a general
Uncomfortableness and Sense of Insecurity.

In the Dusk of Evening, Dr. _Elwes_ looked in on us; and while he
remained, Mr. _Fenwick_ came in. Both spoke of the Earthquake, though
my _Father_ would not entirely give into it till it was positively
ascertained that no Mill had blown up. Dr. _Elwes_ said that the Shock
had been felt on both Sides of the River, as far as _Greenwich_, and
remarked that the natural Phenomena of the last Month had surely been
such as to awaken the careless and solemnize the thoughtful Mind.

"For Instance," says he, "the new Year was ushered in by a very
remarkable Appearance in the Heavens, of a dusky red Light that seemed
to gather into a Focus southward, emitting brilliant Coruscations. I
was warm in Bed and asleep at the Time, but I heard it from those who
saw it, and it was in the public Prints."

I here put in that I had seen it; being on Watch over my _Father_
at the Time, who was then in his Deliration. I had seen a red Light
glowing through the white Window-Curtains, and on going to look out,
perceived such a ruddy Glow in the Sky that I had surmised a dreadful,
distant Fire somewhere. And again, a few Weeks after, _Prue_ and I were
wakened in the Night by such an awful Storm of Thunder, Lightning,
Rain, Sleet, and Hail, accompanied by terrific Blasts of Wind, as
seemed to go nigh to shake the House to Pieces.

"I slept through it all," said my _Father_.--"However, _Patty_ does
not exaggerate, for the Mischief done by that Tempest at _Bristol_ was
immense, and filled the Inhabitants with Consternation."

"I wonder what it all means," said _Prudence_ ruefully.

"Means!" repeated my _Father_, with Contempt.

"It means that we should watch," said Mr. _Fenwick_, mildly, "since
our LORD will come at an Hour we know not of. Many poor People in
_Shoreditch_ came to me in great Alarm, to ask me if I thought the End
of the World was coming. I told them I knew no more then they did,
for that of that Hour knoweth no Man; no, not the Angels in Heaven,
but only the FATHER; but that what our SAVIOUR had said to his own
Disciples, he had said unto all--'Watch!'"

And he went on to speak of the Desirableness and Duty of a continual
State of Preparedness for whatever might happen to us from within
or without, and the Confidence with which Believers might repose on
the Care of their heavenly FATHER, with such Feeling and Power, that
all of us went to Bed that Night in a State of chastened Composure,
widely apart from ungodly Indifference or slavish Fear. There was
more Solemnity and Affection than usual in our Parting for the Night;
since we knew not but we might be swallowed up quick like _Dathan_ and
_Abiram_ ere Morning Light, though we humbly hoped, in that Case, to
reopen our Eyes in a better World.

This being our State of Mind, it was with Disgust that I learnt on the
following Day, that the reckless Men of Fashion and Quality who had
supped Overnight at _Bedford House_, had gone about the Town on their
Way Home, betwixt four and five o'Clock in the Morning, knocking at
Doors and mischievously frightening timid harmless People, by bawling
out, "Past four o'Clock, and a dreadful Earthquake!" "The Fool hath
said in his Heart, There is no GOD!"

During the Remainder of this Month we went on quietly enough, seeing
few Persons except in the Way of Business, which, by Reason of the
Severity of the Season, was much slacker than in fine Weather. My
_Father_ progressed so slowly that we had our private Doubts whether
he were not invalided for Life. However, from being one of the most
impatient, he had now become the most patient of Men; so that 'twas
quite a Pleasure to nurse him. His gay Companions having altogether
forsook him in his Illness, he was now grown totally indifferent to
them, and if one or other of them dropped in on him, he treated them
with so much sardonic Irony that they were unlikely to intrude very
soon on him again. He missed 'em very little, having now taken a great
Fancy to reading, and to the Company of my _Mother_, both of which were
very safe and inexpensive Luxuries. He had grown singularly fond of Mr.
_Fenwick_ and of Dr. _Elwes_, the latter of whom frequently honoured
us by dropping in to play a Rubber--they were Men of two different
Worlds, but yet neither of them so unacquainted with the World that
was characteristically the other's, as to be wholly unable to make
Allowances:--one brought my _Father_ worldly Wisdom and Wit, the other
heavenly Wisdom and innocent Pleasantry; one supplied him with humorous
Books, the other, with profitable Reading; so that, between 'em both,
he fared not badly. He was now getting through the History of _Don
Quixote de la Mancha_, which he read Snatches of with infinite Gusto
to my _Mother_; and was continually quoting the Proverbs of _Sancho
Panza_. Thus we went peacefully on, and were losing all Fear or even
Memory of the Earthquake; when, on the very same Day of the very next
Month, which is to say, _February 1750_, we were affrighted out of our
Senses by a worse Shock and abundantly more terrifical, between Five
and Six o'Clock in the Morning. Oh! how _Prue_ and I shrieked out,
and rushed down, half dressed, to my _Father_ and _Mother_. They were
sitting up in Bed, having been woke out of Sleep by a loud, rumbling
Noise, accompanied by thick, low Flashes of Lightning. The House was
still rocking and the Ground heaving all about us, Bells ringing,
Clocks striking, Glass and China jingling, and Furniture shifting from
one Place to another. My _Father_ was this Time seriously frightened,
and cried, "Come to my Arms, my Children, and let us die together--we
heeded not the first Warning. 'Tis as well to meet our Fate here, all
together, as anywhere else, since whither could we flee from Danger?
even if I were an able-bodied Man, which I am not. Good LORD, deliver
us. Because there is none other that can help us, but only thou, O
LORD!"

So I remained folded in his Arms, and _Prue_ in my _Mother's_, while we
heard Persons in wild Affright loudly shrieking in the open Air. I have
often thought since, that had Death indeed come upon us at that Moment,
it would have been attended with much Mitigation of its Bitterness.

By-and-by, the Vibration having ceased, we slowly withdrew from one
another's Arms, with deep-drawn Breaths; and set about dressing and
resuming the Occupations of the Day in strange Discomfort and Sadness.
I have since read, in Books of Travellers, that in Countries where
Earthquakes are prevalent, the Natives are in many Instances far more
consternated by them than Strangers, who being unaccustomed to them do
not in one View concentrate all their disastrous Consequences. This
I can well believe; for certainly all _London_ was infinitely more
appalled by this second Shock than by the first. How can I convey
any Figure of the Impressions of Fear and Superstition? how describe
the alarmed Consciences of Sinners, the Perturbation of grave Men,
the Distress of tender _Mothers_, the Cries of affrighted Children
at a Danger so novel and Stupendous? To increase the general Panic,
while godly Preachers like Bishop _Sherlock_ and Bishop _Secker_ were
endeavouring to improve the Judgment to Purposes of Penitence and Piety
among the upper Ranks, and good Ministers like Mr. _Fenwick_ were
calling on the lower Orders to repent and be saved, a fanatic Itinerant
began preaching in the Streets, and boldly prophesying another Shock
on the same Day of _April_, which would swallow up all _London_. The
Impression produced by this Prediction was such as that Churches now
filled to overflowing, Public-Houses were deserted, good Books were
read, Alms liberally bestowed on the Poor, and the Sick and them that
lay in Prison visited. O that such Deeds of Humanity had sprung from
some better Principle than selfish Fear! "Ah," says one poor Man
lying in _Newgate_, "I expect that when the next Earthquake occurs,
my Chains, like those of _St. Paul_, will fall off." "Let us eat and
drink," cries another tipsily, "for To-morrow we die!"--"I can't help
fearing this next Shock that is to happen in _April_," says a poor
Wretch in the Hospital that is sure not to live out the Week. "Ah,"
says a meek Patient in the next Bed, placidly smiling, "I shall be out
of Harm's Way before that comes!"

Others combated their Neighbours' Fears with Reason and Ridicule;
others drowned Thought altogether in additional Excess of Riot. I
understood from _Gatty_ that many smart Things were said about the
Earthquake in the upper Circles; and every fresh Instance of a fine
Lady caring for her Soul and going to Prayers elicited Fits of modish
Laughter. And yet, who deserved the Judgment of Heaven to fall upon
them, if the Rich did not? whose Dissoluteness and Disregard of
Decency and Order had now come to that Pass as quite to paravaunt
over the Vices and Crimes of the common Orders. GOD'S sacred Name
habitually blasphemed, CHRIST and the HOLY SPIRIT ignored, the _Devil_
disbelieved, Chastity laughed at, Ribaldry approved, Drunkenness
considered Good-Breeding, Servants treated as if not of the same Flesh
and Blood with themselves, Sabbaths desecrated, Gambling carried to an
incredible Extent, the Hanging of poor Wretches at _Tyburn_ counted
a Spectacle worthy to recreate Noblemen, public Honour a mere Name,
Patriotism the Synonyme for revolutionary Principle, no Truth, nor
Honour, nor Justice, in Court nor in public Offices ... who, then, had
Reason to dread the just Judgments of GOD?

At the very Time the Earth was rocking with the first Shock, there were
profane Scoffers in Club-houses who would bet, whether it were an
Earthquake or the Explosion of a Gunpowder Magazine. At the very Time
two-thirds of _London_ were on their Knees, observing a general Fast
and Day of Humiliation, the Gambling-houses were filled with Members of
Parliament, who found themselves with a Day of Leisure on their Hands.
A Man dropped down Dead at the Door of _White's_ Coffee-house: he was
carried in; the Club immediately made Bets whether he were dead or not;
a Surgeon came in to bleed him; the Wagerers interposed, saying it
would affect the Fairness of the Bet!

O Madness of mortal Men! O Hardness, past Belief, of impenitent
Sinners!




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XVIII.

_The Night of Terror._


As the dreaded Day approached, the public Panic increased to that
Degree, that even the Sceptics with a Scoff on their Lips thought it
would be as well to "keep out of Harm's Way," and "Follow the Fashion."
Not that they intended Penitence and Self-recollection, no, no; but
since _London_ was to be swallowed up, they would take Lodgings, that
Night, in the Country.

In Consequence of this, every one that had a Room or Bed to let, in
_Chelsea_, _Hammersmith_, _Kensington_, _Kew_, _Richmond_, or anywhere
within a moderate Distance of the Metropolis, raised their Prices to
an immoderate Height; and in every little Shop or Parlour Window a Card
or Paper, ill writ and ill spelt, might be seen pasted or wafered,
notifying that "Hear might be had a Bedd or Bedds on the ensewing
Nite of the Erthquak." Nay, Women whose Fortunes or Occupations did
not admit of their leaving their City Homes, quilted themselves warm
"Earthquake Bedgowns," in which to take Flight in the Night, if their
Houses should tumble about their Ears.

It might be about a Week before the Event was expected, and while
the Churches were daily filled to overflowing, that _Gatty_ came to
inquire whether her _Lady_ could have the Sitting-room and Bed-chamber
formerly occupied by Mr. _Fenwick_, for "the Earthquake Night." Though
the Apartments were unlet, my _Mother_ did not much relish Lady _Betty_
for her Guest, even for twenty-four Hours, and said she did not know
she was minded to let the Rooms at all; she was sure we could not do
Things to my _Lady's_ liking. However, _Gatty_, who was to be Lady
_Betty's_ Companion, and had a great Fancy for coming to us on her own
Account, said she was instructed to offer us any Price within Reason,
and of her own Head offered so handsome a Sum, that my _Mother_ said
she should be ashamed of taking it for one Night. There was Nothing in
that, _Gatty_ said; Lady _Betty_ never grudged any Money on herself,
and could well afford to pay it, and would rather like boasting
beforehand and afterwards, how much her Earthquake Lodgings cost her.
So, as we well knew all our Neighbours were making the same Market,
and we should really be disaccommodated by having her _Ladyship_ and
finding a Lodging for Mr. _James_, we would not be so nice as to
hold out, but accepted the Terms in consideration of the Trouble. I
should, indeed, have put in a Proviso for Mr. _Fenwick_, whose Safety
was infinitely more important than my _Lady's_, had I believed there
was the least Chance of his consenting to occupy his old Quarters;
but I knew already that he would by no Means forsake his poor People
in _Shoreditch_, even on the Supposal of any especial Dangerousness
on that Night, which he did not, averring the mysterious Intentions
of Providence to be altogether hidden out of Sight, in spite of the
Presagings of Impostors and Fanatics.

_Gatty_ joyfully left us therefore, having, she owned, been a little
infected by the Fears of those around her, which were especially
prevalent in the Servants' Hall, where the poor Maids and Men were to
be left in their ordinary Charge; my _Lady_ not entertaining the same
Fear of their being swallowed up alive as of herself.

And was it not strange, now, that a Lady who might have commanded the
Use of various Country Seats, or have hired an entire House somewhere
in the remoter Parts by the Week, for about the same Sum she was to
pay for a single Night, should prefer her own selfish Accommodation
before that of her whole Household? But, I am sorry to say, hers was
not a singular Case.

The Bustle into which we and our Neighbours were put, by the Expectance
of our Quality-Lodgers, had Something in it strangely dissonant to
the Occasion. Here were Carts arriving at the Door with my _Lady's_
own Feather-Bed and Blankets, my _Lady's_ own Linen and Toilette, my
_Lady's_ own Cushions and Foot-stool, even my _Lady's_ own Parrot:
and Wine, and Cordials, and Sweetmeats, and _Packs of Cards_; though
the Supper was to be provided by us, "for the good of the House."
It seemed that though my _Lady_ intended to be only a Mile or two
beyond the Prospect of burying alive, and within Sound and Sight of an
engulfed City, she by no Means purposed a reflective Watch and Pause
while the Crisis impended, but rather thought to kill Time and drown
Fear by Jollity and Entertainment. To this End, she invited certain of
her Intimates, including Mr. _Paul Caryl_, (for she had got tired of
keeping the Men at a Distance,) who had likewise secured Lodgings in
_Chelsea_, to spend the Evening with her, and pursue their Diversions
far into the Night.

We were not to expect her till the Afternoon previous to the Occasion;
but however, shoals of poor, terrified People who had engaged Lodgings
in remoter and less expensive Parts, could not be hindered of pouring
into the Country for two or three Days beforehand; and as every
imaginable Vehicle was pressed into the Service, all the Highroads
and leading Thoroughfares of _London_ were absolutely blockaded with
Coaches, Chaises, and Chairs, as well as innumerable Foot-Passengers,
often inextricably wedged together for ten or fifteen Minutes. One
Family, I understood, even took Flight in a Hearse: indeed, Dr. _Elwes_
said it could be likened to Nothing but the consternated Flight that
took place at the Beginning of the Great Plague. He added, that the
Fields were full of People preparing to Camp out for the Night; just as
they were constrained to do after the Fire of _London_; and finished by
observing with an ironical Laugh, "There's a good Time coming for the
Doctors; for plenty of Colds will be caught to-night in the wet Fields,
to say Nothing of damp Lodgings."

About five o'Clock in the Afternoon, my _Lady_ arrived in her Coach.
She was handed out by her Nephew, Mr. _Sandys_, and her Physician Dr.
_Plumptree_; and _Gatty_ followed with the Lap-Dog. Her _Ladyship_ wore
a cherry-colour Sacque and large Straw Hat; but neither the Shadow
of the one nor the hue of the other could conceal how her Beauty was
ruinated by her sad Complaint. She was no longer even ordinarily
comely; all her fine red and white and smooth Skin lost, and her Eyes
bleared and spoilt. With much Fuss we got her settled in the upper
Parlour; but to say Nothing of her own two Servants, she contrived,
the whole of the Time she was under our Roof, to keep _Prue_ and me
continually on the Trot. Inquiry soon was made for Mr. _Caryl_; he had
not appeared: my _Lady_ was disappointed; she had expected him to be
the Life of the Party. By-and-by, in spite of her Shawls and Cushions,
she fancied a Draught from the Window; I was summoned to cure it, and
had to cobble an additional Breadth of Dimity to the Curtain as quickly
as I could; while my _Lady_ stroked her Lap-Dog at the Fire, and
chatted with her two Companions.

"Awfully cold," says the _Doctor_.

"Screaming cold," says the _Nephew_. "These inferior Houses always have
thin Walls; one might think it was _January_. To-night, all _London's_
out of Town--Lady _Frances Arundel_, and Lord and Lady _Galway_ have
gone ten Miles into the Country, to play Brag till five in the
Morning, and then come back."

"A good many will play Brag," said the _Doctor_, simpering--"the real
Braggarts, I think, are those that stay behind."

"Then you really _are_ afraid, _Doctor_?" says Lady _Betty_.

"Well, my _Lady_, I think it would be a Tempting of Providence to incur
any Risk needlessly."

Just then, in came Mr. _Caryl_. "A thousand Excuses," says he. "I was
coming along the _Five Fields_, when a couple of crazy old Houses
tumbled down and blocked up the Way, so I was obliged to come round."

"A lucky Escape for you, _Paul_," says Mr. _Sandys_, "it might have
been as bad for you as an Earthquake."

"Why, yes," says Mr. _Caryl_, "though not easily fluttered, it did give
me a Qualm, I confess. Besides, it might have been a premonitory Quake
that brought the Houses down."

"My Salts, _Gatty_!" cries Lady _Betty_.

"Any Casualties?" says the _Doctor_ carelessly.

"To tell you the Truth," says Mr. _Caryl_, "I was so rejoiced to save
my own Bones that I did not stop to inquire whether anyone else had
theirs broken." And lightly laughed.

"Feeling!" mutters Mr. _Sandys_.

"Quack!" responds Mr. _Caryl_ softly.

And then I knew them, that Moment, for the Fox and the Goose!

"Whereabouts in the _Five Fields_ did it happen?" resumes the _Doctor_.

"Just by that old, empty House, _Doctor_, wherein two Women were found
starved to Death with Cold and Hunger, somewhere about _Christmas_."

"I'm sure such Things as that ought not to occur," says Lady _Betty_,
dabbing her Forehead with some Essence, "so well as the Poor are
provided for."

"Oh yes, especially this _Christmas_," says Mr. _Sandys_
carelessly--"for, you know, a great many Hogs were seized by the
Church-wardens and Overseers of _St. George's_ Parish, that were kept
in private Houses and Yards contrary to the Statute made and provided;
whereby the Poor, of that Parish at least, if they had not their
_Christmas_ Beef, had their _Christmas_ Pork; for it was distributed
among them."

"Not gratis, though," said the _Doctor_.

"No, but very cheap;" said Mr. _Sandys_. "So I understood."

"I wonder you should understand or hear Anything about it, _Harry_,"
says Lady _Betty_ contemptuously.

"Well, _Aunt_, I happened to hear it named by Mr. _Arbuthnot_."

"When is Mr. _Arbuthnot_ to marry Lady _Grace_?" says Mr. _Caryl_.

"After Lent, I believe," said the _Doctor_,--"They that marry in _Lent_
will live to repent."

"Why so?" says Lady _Betty_.

"Nay, Madam, ask your Chaplain. I suppose People should not be
feasting when they ought to be fasting."

"Ah, that's it, no Doubt," says Lady _Betty_--"Let us have Tea now,
_Gatty_; and Plenty of _Genoa_ Macaroons."

The next Time I went up Stairs, which was not till after Dark, they
were all playing at Brag.

As I went down, a sudden Blast of Wind from the front Door of the House
blew my Candle out, and I groped along into the Shop, muttering, "Who
on Earth can be standing in the Draught such a cold Night as this?"
At the same Moment I caught a Glimpse of a Couple of dusky Figures
standing in the Doorway, and heard, in earnest Under-tones, the Words,
"_Gatty!_ is that you?" "Mr. _Heavitree_! can it be you? What in the
World can have brought you here, and at this Time of Night?"--"To be
with you, dearest _Gatty_, in case of your being alarmed, and--and--in
case of Anything happening...."

I would not overhear another Word, but went straight into the Parlour
and lit my Candle, saying quietly to my _Mother_, "There's Mr.
_Heavitree_ outside, talking to _Gatty_."

"Have him in!" cries my _Father_, whose Ears were quicker than I
thought, "I want to see what the young Chap is like."--"Hush, _Father_,
he'll overhear you--Maybe he will prefer saying a few Words to _Gatty_
by herself first." "Very likely, very likely," says my _Father_
chuckling--"but I hope he won't go away without coming in, for all
that."

I now thought I might go out again with the Candle, and set it in
the Shop; but the Current of Air from the Door again nearly blew it
out, though I screened it with my Hand. The Stream of Light fell
upon _Gatty_, who turned about and said, "_Patty_, here's an old
Acquaintance,--I'm sure I may ask him in, may not I?" "And welcome,"
said I. "I am almost too dirty to be seen," says Mr. _Heavitree_,
coming in. "Why, you are all muddy from Head to Foot," cries _Gatty_,
"What _can_ you have been doing?"

Just then, Lady _Betty's_ Bell was pulled pretty sharply, and _Gatty_
was obliged to run off. I could see, by Mr. _Heavitree's_ wincing, that
he could not abide the Remembrance of her menial Position, and that
it would not be his Fault if she long retained it. I ushered him into
the Parlour. My _Father_, in his easy Chair, stretches out his Hand
to him. "Mr. _Heavitree_," says he heartily, "I'm glad to see you."
"You see a very dirty Fellow, Sir," says Mr. _Heavitree_ laughing.
"Why, you _are_ dirty, indeed," says my _Father_, surveying him; "is
this the Way you come a-courting? I should say you had been rolling in
the Gutter." "Something like it," says Mr. _Heavitree_; "we Country
Folks got feared by this Talk of the Earthquake, so I thought I'd just
come up to Town and look after _Gatty_; but, Sir, what a Place this
_London_ is! My Danger along the Road, of being attacked by the Fellow
they call the Flying Highwayman, was nothing to what it was when I got
into the Streets. I put up my Horse at an Inn, and then set forth, as
clean as you'd wish to see me, to Lady _Betty's_, where I expected to
find _Gatty_; but it was already getting dark, and by Reason of the
Panic the Town was almost deserted except by the very worst Sort, who
care neither for Heaven nor Earth, and who seemed minded to make the
Desertion of Houses an Occasion for pretty general Plunder. Here and
there twinkled a miserable little solitary Oil Lamp; here and there a
Lantern flitted across, or a Ray of a Tallow Candle streamed from some
Window, but with these Exceptions, which only seemed to make Darkness
more dismal, there was Nothing to prevent one from breaking one's Shins
against Posts and Door-Steps, or walking straight into the Gutters. I
was hustled once or twice, and began to think Affairs were not much
mended since my _Lord Mayor_ and the _Aldermen_ went up to the _King_.
Suddenly I was pounced on by three disorderly Fellows, who collared me
and dragged me into a dark Cellar. One of them held a Lantern to my
Face and said, '_Jem_, this isn't our Man,' on which I was pushed out
pretty near as roughly as I was pulled in. This did not hinder me of
taking to my Heels, which occasioned my stumbling into an enormous Heap
of wet Mud by the Side of the Foot-Path, with ne'er a Lamp near it,
which made me in the Pickle you see. However, I got to Lady _Betty's_,
where I found the Mansion deserted by all save one poor Maid, who sate
reading of her Bible by the Light of a Kitchen Candle; all the rest
having decamped as soon as my _Lady_ was off, in the Opinion that
their Safety was quite as dear to them as hers to her. I asked the
poor Creature if she were not afeared to be alone at such a Crisis;
but she seemed to be Something of a Predestinarian, and said her Time
could come but once, and when the LORD would; she could trust herself
in his Hands. I obtained from her that _Gatty_ and my _Lady_ had gone
to the _Chelsea Bun-House_; so then I knew they were with _you_, Mrs.
_Patty_; and having got a Direction to _Chelsea_, I soon made out,
when I reached it, my Way here. But oh, what a State all the Fields
and waste Grounds about you are in! People in Tents, Booths, Carts,
Coaches, and Caravans; awaiting the Morning Light. The Field Preachers
are busy among them, and are exhorting attentive Multitudes: but will
the Impression survive To-morrow?--I think, Sir, my Mud is dry now; and
if you will lend me a Clothes-Brush, I'll step out and groom myself a
little."




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XIX.

_The Vigil._


"That's as good-looking a young Man," says my _Father_, "as ever I
saw--quite a Mate for _Gatty_."

"Hush, _Father_, he'll hear you," says _Prue_ softly.

"He can't," says _Father_, lowering his Voice, however.

"How provoking it must be to _Gatty_," says _Prue_, "to know he is
here, and yet be kept in attendance on my Lady!"

"Tush, Child, she'd rather know he was here than not.... Well, Mr.
_Heavitree_," (when our Visitor returned,) "have you considered where
you are to get a Bed to-night?"

"Why, no, Sir, really I have not."

"Then I'll tell you! You may take your Choice of all the Beds in this
House except Lady _Betty's_; for we are all going to sit up!"

"Why, then, Sir, with your Leave, I'll sit up too!"

"Do so, young Gentleman, and welcome. You see, we have quality Lodgers
in the House, who keep late Hours; and as they require a good Deal of
waiting on, we think it best to sit up--'Tis but for one Night."

"Besides which," put in my _Mother_, "though we are not ourselves
apprehensive of an Earthquake this Night any more than any other, yet
having such a fresh Recollection of the Terror we experienced during
the last Shock, and knowing that so many Thousands of People are in
distressing Apprehension of a similar and more terrible Occurrence, it
seems unfeeling to think of sleeping and taking one's natural Rest,
instead of watching with others, and sympathising with them."

"I think precisely as you do, Madam," said Mr. _Heavitree_; "I assure
you that though I am not of those who expect the Earthquake, I am
disposed for Anything but Levity, and feel this to be an impressive
Occasion."

So, this being his acknowledged Feeling, we sate about the Fire
and fell into a somewhat graver Strain of Conversation than usual;
and I was glad to find that the young Man could talk seriously as
well as pleasantly. Though he had not let fall a Word about want of
Refreshment, I knew he must have been fasting for some Time, and
therefore helped him plentifully to cold Beef with his Tea and Bread
and Butter, which he pronounced very acceptable. While he was eating,
_Gatty_ returned, all Smiles, and said, "I am glad to see you doing so
well, Mr. _Heavitree_!" but just as he had made Room for her beside
him, tinkle went the Bell, and away she was obliged to run again.

"Can't we muffle that Bell?" says he, somewhat impatiently.

"Then my _Lady_ would hammer on the Floor," said I, "and would keep her
up-Stairs altogether."

"Yes," says _Father_, "that would answer as ill as the two Housemaids
in _Æsop's_ Fables, that killed the Cock for waking their Mistress."

"Well," says Mr. _Heavitree_, "it won't be for long, that's one
Blessing. Her Time's up on Monday, and I shall stay in Town till then,
and take her down with me in the old Coach."

"I hope you won't have so many overturns this Time," said my _Mother_.

"Why, no," said he smiling, "we can dispense with them now; but I
protest that Snow-Journey was the pleasantest I ever had in my Life."

"You are going to possess a Treasure, Sir," said my _Father_
energetically.

"Indeed I think so, Sir! I was not aware you so well knew her Value."

"Always took to her, Mr. _Heavitree_, from the very first; Didn't I,
Girls?"

"Indeed you did, _Father_."

"And when is it to be?" says my _Father_ significantly.

"Nay, Sir," said Mr. _Heavitree_ with a little Embarrassment, "I've not
got _Gatty_ to name the Day yet, but I hope it will be before long; and
as my Sister _Clarissa_ is shortly to be married, which will deprive
_Roaring House_ of its present Mistress, perhaps we may arrange to have
two Weddings on the same Day."

"Was that poor Wayfarer found under the Snow?" said my _Mother_.

"Oh no, Ma'am, we conclude she accomplished her Journey in Safety."

By-and-by, _Gatty_ joined us again; and we all sate chatting till
Twelve o'Clock. Then my _Lady's_ Supper went up, and then we had our
own; a pretty substantial one, as watching makes People hungry.

After Supper, we, according to Custom, had Prayers; and I thought
it not amiss to select for our Evening Portion the twenty-fourth
Chapter of St. _Matthew_, which speaks of Famines, Pestilences, and
Earthquakes. After this, we again drew round the Fire; for Watching
makes people chilly: and Mr. _Heavitree_ began to repeat some Reports
he had gathered, of the wretched State our Gaols were in, at that
Time, overflowing with the Refuse of our Army and Navy, who, for Want
of honest Employment, were perishing miserably amidst the Stench and
Horrors of noisome Dungeons.

"That they are," says my _Father_; "and as for _Newgate_, it is now in
so pestilential a State of Infection from the overcrowding together of
dirty, starving Felons, that the Effluvium they have brought into Court
on their Trials hath cost us the Lives of a Lord Mayor, an Alderman,
two Judges, divers Lawyers, the greater Part of the Jury, and I know
not how many of the Bystanders. This Spread of the Gaol Fever among the
upper Classes will do more to get the Abuse remedied than the Deaths of
Hundreds of Criminals in their Cells; but yet I can't for the Life of
me help regretting that so many able-bodied Men, whose Labour might be
serviceable to the Community, should be idling at the public Expense in
Prison."

Mr. _Heavitree_ was silent, and _Gatty_ presently asked him what he was
musing about. He said, "Those Rogues who pulled me into the dark Cellar
said I was not the right Man. I was wondering if they have found him
yet, and what they have done to him."

This led to sundry dismal Stories, of Footpads and Street-Assassins;
and of Lord _Harborough's_ being beset by Robbers in _Piccadilly_ in
broad Daylight, and one of the Chairmen pulling a Pole out of his
_Lordship's_ Chair and knocking down one of the Villains, while the
Earl, leaping out, and drawing his Sword, put the Rest to flight. Then
we wondered whether Times could get worse, and whether they would ever
mend, and whether the next Generation would listen to such Facts as
idle Tales, or whether Abuses would increase to that Degree as to bring
down a Providential Judgment on the City, like that which overtook
_Gomorrah_, or like that which we were now expecting.

Soon after this, my _Father_ fell fast asleep, and my _Mother_ began
to nod. _Prudence_ was knitting with all her Might, and I took up my
_Mother's_ Knotting, and on Pretence of getting nearer the Light,
edged my Chair further off from _Gatty_, who continued conversing
with Mr. _Heavitree_ in an under Tone, which became lower and lower.
I am persuaded neither of them felt in the least sleepy, nor had the
smallest Apprehensions of the Earthquake; but _Prue_ yawned awfully
from Time to Time, and I was profoundly silent and very serious.

All at once, Lady _Betty's_ Bell rang violently, and _Gatty_ ran up
Stairs. The Wax Lights had burned out, and at first it seemed that
there were no others, which put my _Lady_ into a sad Taking. The Idea
of her being _left in the Dark with an Earthquake_! Happily, another
Pacquet of Wax Candles was found, and, after Ratafia had been served
round, they fell to their Card-playing again; but _Gatty_ affirmed that
my _Lady_ changed Colour, and laid down her Hand on Mr. _Sandys's_
roguishly shaking the Table.

At Length, all the Clocks struck Five; at which Hour everybody
conceived themselves safe, as witlessly as they had previously held
themselves to be in Danger. The Card-Party now broke up; _Gatty_
went to undress my _Lady_, and I went to lock out the Gentlemen, who
departed in a Body, looking fagged and haggard enough. Just as Mr.
_Caryl_ was going forth, he paused for a Moment and said, "By-the-bye,
this is where Mr.--Mr. what's his Name? Mr. _Fenwick_ lodged--Can you
tell me where he is at present, Mrs. _Patty_?"

I coolly answered, "With his poor People in _Shoreditch_, Sir."

"_Shoreditch? Shoreditch?_ Ha, I'll try to remember that," says he
carelessly; and turned on his Heel. I thought to myself, I don't
believe you will; your Cue is to forget.

Then I went to get my _Father_ and _Mother_ to Bed, and send off
_Prue_, and lastly, to go to Bed myself. As for Mr. _Heavitree_, he
was content with a couple of Chairs by the Fire. _Gatty_ slept with my
_Lady_, who did not feel brave enough to be alone.

The Watch made us all latish, and arise yawnish. _Peter_ told me
the Roads were all astir before Light, with People returning to
their Homes; and that the Preachers were trying to enforce on their
Penitents that they had had an Answer to Prayer. Lady _Betty_ did not
rise till Noon; what with her Vapours, her Whims, and her Breakfast,
she did not depart till two o'Clock. We had scarcely a Word of _Gatty_,
but she ran in to us just at last, and kissed us all round, taking
Leave of us once for all, and receiving our good Wishes for her future
Happiness with many Blushes and Smiles. Mr. _Heavitree_ had already
gone off; and as soon as we had tidied my _Lady's_ Rooms, we all
subsided into our usual Quiet.

The following Day, about Noon, I was behind the Counter, when I
received a great Shock by hearing a Customer say casually, "Dr. _Elwes_
is dead--he went off quite suddenly at six this Morning."

I could hardly go on weighing some Comfits, the Tears crowded so fast
into my Eyes at the unexpected Loss of our old Friend. I remained but
to have the ill News confirmed and gather the Particulars, and then
went up to break them to my _Mother_, who was sitting with my _Father_
in their own Chamber. She was a good deal affected, and my _Father_
undertook the Office of Consoler with great Kindliness. After a While
I went down and asked _Prue_, who felt less Concern than I did for the
_Doctor_, to take my Place a little While in the Shop. Then I went and
sate down in the Parlour, and thought over his various Acts of Kindness
to me, and shed some Tears of unaffected Regret. He had never been a
decidedly religious Character, but was much liked by his Patients,
deservedly loved by the Poor, and to us had been a tried and valued
Friend.

While I was in this sorrowful Mood, in comes Mr. _Fenwick_, so flushed
with Exercise and good Spirits as to look quite handsome. Feeling so
low as I did just then, I did not reciprocate his Salutation quite so
cheerfully as he seemed to expect; and he, on his Part, on finding
that my _Father_ and _Mother_ were well, paid less Attention to my
Depression than he might have done; and, for the first Time in my Life,
I thought him a little selfish.

"I have some good News," said he.

"I am glad to hear it," said I, "for I have some bad News."

"What's that?" said he.

"Our dear Friend Dr. _Elwes_ is dead;" and I put the Corner of my Apron
to my Eyes.

"Well,--I am sorry to hear it," resumes he, after a Pause; "he was not,
I fear, a very thoughtful Man."

"A very _good_ Man," said I, warming.

"A very kindly, attentive Man in a Sick-room," says he, "and a pleasant
Companion, which is all I know about him."

"_We_ knew a good Deal more," said I, "and know that his Loss won't be
soon supplied. We shall miss him very much. He was truly benevolent,
whatever you may think."

"I don't deny it, I assure you," said he, looking surprised at my Heat,
"I only wished there had been a more Christian Basis for his many good
Qualities."

"It is not very Christian, I think, to depreciate them, especially at a
Time like this."

"My dear _Patty_, I stand reproved. I did not sufficiently consider,
nor, indeed, sufficiently know the Wound your Feelings had just
experienced."

This touched me, and I said, "We will speak of it no more, Sir. I am
glad to see you looking so well. You told me, I think, you had heard
some good News."

"Yes, from Mr. _Caryl_."

"Quack!" said I hastily; losing my Temper and good Manners in my
revived Impression of that Gentleman's Duplicity and Hollowness.

"_Patty!_" said Mr. _Fenwick_, in a Tone of mild Surprise.

"I beg your Pardon, Sir," said I, ashamed of myself, "but you know I
never can hear that Gentleman's Name with Patience."

"I do know it," said he, smiling very pleasantly, "and should retort on
you the Accusation of Uncharitableness, or else endeavour to laugh you
out of your singular Prejudice against him, but that I feel Something
in it so flattering to myself, that I am disarmed. However, I have that
to tell you of him now, which will, I fancy, alter your Opinion."

"Nothing will alter my Opinion of him," persisted I, "no Good will ever
come to you from that Quarter."

"Why not?"

"Because I know him better than you do." He laughed.

"You may laugh, Sir," said I, "but you'll see in Time that I am right.
Have you seen him lately?"

"Not since I was in this House."

"Ah, well, I have seen him more than once--I've seen him and heard him
among his own Set, when he didn't know I was by, and he said Things
that ... convinced me he was a false Friend to you."

"What were those Things?"

"I'm not clear that I have a Right to repeat them."

"An accused Party has always a Right to have the Charge against him
substantiated. You are silent?--Well, Mrs. _Patty_, since you are so
inveterate against this poor Gentleman, I shall only irritate you, I am
afraid, by acquainting you with Anything in his Favour, and therefore
I'll keep my News to myself--"

"Just tell me one Thing--Has he sent you back your Poem?"

"My Poem! No--you know he accidently burnt that, Months ago."

"Pshaw!"

"You never will believe it," continued he laughing, "nor forgive him
for it. Why, _I_ have forgiven him, this long While; and if I have,
can't _you_?"

"No."

"Well, _Patty_, this Interest in the Fate of my unlucky Manuscript is,
as I have before told you, very gratifying to me; but still, I should
be more gratified if you would do Justice to an innocent Man."

"Why, he was here, the Night before last, Sir! and from the careless
Way in which he inquired for you, I could see he did not value you a
Straw! I really wonder at you, Mr. _Fenwick_."

"Nay, I must say I wonder at _you_, Mrs. _Patty_; but since we are
getting rather too warm upon it, I'll wish you Good-bye for the
Present, and converse with you some other Time on what is in my Mind,
but which I fear would just now meet with an unfavourable Hearing."
Saying which, he took up his Hat, and was going away quite formally,
when, turning short about, he looked full into my Face for a Minute,
and said with an inexpressible Sweetness of Reproach:

"Why, _Patty_! I didn't think you could be so cross!"




[Illustration]




CHAPTER XX.

_Mr. Fenwick's Proceedings._


I have his Face before me this Minute! My _Mother_ was wont to say,
"Mr. _Fenwick_ had smiling Eyes," but I protest I found they could cut
me to the Heart. I ran up-Stairs as soon as ever he was gone, and had a
good Cry by my own Bed-side; and wondered what on Earth could have made
me so knaggy and upsettish.

When I went down, _Prue_ was still in the Shop; and seeing me with
red Eyes, I dare say she thought I had been crying about Dr. _Elwes_.
I hadn't, however! There were Customers buying Buns, so I left her
to attend to them, and returned to the Parlour; and there, who should
there be, sitting at the Window and smelling to some Primroses, but Mr.
_Fenwick_! I declare I started as if it had been his Ghost.

"Well," says he smiling, "I've soon come back again.... Why,
_Patty_!--I do believe you've been shedding Tears!"

"What of that, Sir?" said I, ready to begin again.

"Only this," said he, "that I am very glad of it, because it seems as
if you were sorry for the little _Tiff_ we had just now--And I'm sorry
too, and came back expressly to say so. But perhaps I'm mistaken, and
these Tears were not about the Tiff, but about Dr. _Elwes_ ... hey,
_Patty_?"

I shook my Head.

"Well then, all's right," said he, taking my Hand, and drawing me
towards the Window. "I'm sure I regret the old Gentleman as much as any
one can be expected to do who cared very little about him; but the
Fact is, I was selfishly preoccupied with a Piece of good Fortune that
had happened to myself, and which, you see, I could not be easy till I
had made you a Party to. How is it I care about telling you, _Patty_?
How is it you were the first Person whose Sympathy I wanted to secure?
hey?"

"I'm sure I can't tell, Sir."

"Well, I think I _can_ tell--If I can't, I've made a tremendous
Blunder, after a great Deal of Self-Examination. What do you think of
my having been presented to the Living of St. _Margery-under-the-Wall_?"

"You don't say so?" exclaimed I, clasping my Hands with delight--"Oh,
that _is_ joyful!"

"Four Hundred a Year, clear," said he, "that's a good Income, is not
it?"

"It's _Wealth_!" said I. "And no more than you deserve, Mr. _Fenwick_!"

"I knew this was how you would feel," said he, kissing my Hand. "What
makes you cloud over, _Patty_?"

"I was only thinking, Sir--"

"What? Come, say it out...."

"That this would remove you from us farther than ever--"

"Oh no! A Quarter of a Mile nearer!"

"I don't mean _that_ Sort of Distance, Sir. But no Matter--I rejoice in
it with all my Heart, Mr. _Fenwick_!"

He looked at me earnestly, was going to say Something, and stopped.

"Don't you think," said he, after a Minute's Silence, "that I might
marry on this?"

"Surely, Sir!"

"And could you, _Patty_, whom I know so thoroughly and love so
heartily, consent to be the Wife of a City Parson?"

--Oh! there could be only one Moment in Life like that!--And yet,
have not I had many happy Moments, Hours, and Years since? I can't,
to this Day, make out how he ever came to think of me; when there
were _Prue_, and _Gatty_, and doubtless many young Gentlewomen of his
Congregation, to say Nothing of remote Country Cousins, (for he had
no near Relations,) to whom I could be but a mere Foil! I could not
make it out then, and I can't make it out now; but I am quite content
to leave the Mystery unsolved, and decide that Affection settles all
Distinctions, and Marriages are made in Heaven. I must say I was very
thankful to dear, good Dr. _Elwes_, when his Will came to be opened,
(which had been made some Months before his sudden Death,) to find he
had left _Prue_ and me Five Hundred Pounds each, in the handsomest
Manner, with more Terms of Praise of our "laudable Conduct in difficult
Circumstances," than I need to repeat. I say, I was glad of this
Legacy, and of the handsome Way in which it was left, because it seemed
to make me a little less unworthy of Mr. _Fenwick's_ Regard; not that
it had a Bit of Influence with him, however, his Offer having been made
and accepted before the Will was opened: so that Nothing could be more
disinterested than his Behaviour from first to last.

And the Presentation to this Living came through the Recommendation of
Mr. _Caryl_!--accompanied by a very flattering Letter, saying it was a
Piece of Justice, and that he knew of no Man on whom his Uncle could
have better bestowed it. A Piece of _Justice_, I privately consider it;
and a Salve to his own Conscience for pitifully burning the Poem of a
Man that writ better than himself. Nothing can destroy that Conviction.
But I keep it quite secret; the only Secret I have ever kept or will
keep from my Husband, and this only because I would not lower his
Patron's Nephew in his Estimation.

Certainly the Gift of a good Living was far more than an Equivalent for
the best Poem that ever was writ; but yet, Poets have naturally such
an overweening Opinion of the Importance of their Productions to the
World, and of their own Mission as Regenerators of Society, that to
them it is an exceeding hard Thing to lose the Fame and Influence they
believe they deserve; and I question whether those of 'em that take the
highest Flights (from practical Affairs and common Sense, that is,)
would consider themselves at all compensated for the Loss of a heavy
Poem by the Gain of a fat Living.

But my Husband hath since appeared in Print, in a Way that's highly
honourable to himself and gratifying to his Connexions, without being
beholden to any Patron whatsoever. He has printed a Funeral Sermon on
Mrs. _Eusebia Crate_, a highly estimable Member of his Congregation,
which was brought out by Messrs. _A._ and _B. Thompson_, at the Sign
of the _Bible and Star, Fleet Street_, handsomely bound in shiny black
Leather, with a black Margin to the Title. This Sermon, which was
published by Subscription, brought my Husband enough to buy a very
handsome Mahogany Bookcase for his Study, and a Pair of Pulpit Sconces,
besides its being named in the _Gentleman's Magazine_. And though
Money was not my Husband's Object, yet, as the Work, it is thought,
may attain to a second Edition, who knows but hereafter he may be as
successful as Dr. _Hugh Blair_, who for his last Volume of Sermons
received Six Hundred Pounds! Though amazing, it must be true, for they
say it in _Pater Noster Row_!

As for dear _Prue_, her Legacy was as acceptable to her as mine to
me, for though _Tom_ conscientiously brings her all his Earnings and
is now Captain of a fine Merchantman, Sailors are never over-rich; I
think her queer Engagement to him steadied her a good Deal: it put an
End to the least Approach to Trifling or Flirting, which she might have
indulged in, had they been less seriously bound to one another; and
my _Mother's_ Contempt for the Contract and "the Bit of red Glass,"
went so to poor _Prudence's_ Heart as to engender a Degree of Humility
and Submissiveness quite contrary to her previous Character. With all
this, she was deeply in Love with _Tom_, and silently, seriously happy;
nor would she, I am convinced, have been released from her Engagement
for the World. But it took away all Desire to be otherways placed than
where she was, in the Bosom of her own Family, in the quiet, steady
Performance of domestic Duties. So that, when I left Home, it was with
the comfortable Conviction, which I have never seen the least Reason to
alter, that she would supply my Place to my dear _Father_ and _Mother_,
as well as in the Business. Indeed, since my Husband married her to
_Tom_, the necessary Absences of the latter from his Wife have rendered
it very agreeable to all Parties that _Prue's_ Home should still be in
the _Old Chelsea Bun-House_. There's an Opposition House set up now,
which has a little injured the old Business; but, happily, none of us
are so dependent on it as we once were; and their Buns are accounted
heavy, so that the ancient, steady-going Customers still resort to

_The Old Original Chelsea Bun-House._




FINIS.




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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's
original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.





End of Project Gutenberg's The Old Chelsea Bun-House, by Anne Manning

*** 