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diff --git a/old/61080-0.txt b/old/61080-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 41c91dc..0000000 --- a/old/61080-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5237 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cherry & Violet, by Anne Manning - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Cherry & Violet - A Tale of the Great Plague - -Author: Anne Manning - -Contributor: William Holden Hutton - -Illustrator: John Jellicoe - Herbert Railton - -Release Date: January 2, 2020 [EBook #61080] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHERRY & VIOLET *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - CHERRY & VIOLET - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -[Illustration] - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHERRY & VIOLET: - A Tale of the Great Plague - - - - Illvstrations by - John Jellicoe - & - Herbert Railton - Introdvction by The Rev^{d.} W·H·Hutton - - - - - - LONDON - John C. NIMMO - ·MDCCCXCVII· - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - - As I sat by myself, I talked to myself, - And thus to myself said I. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -[Illustration: - - Cherry and Violet -] - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - CHERRY & VIOLET - - A TALE OF - THE GREAT PLAGUE - - - BY - - THE AUTHOR OF “MARY POWELL” AND “THE - HOUSEHOLD OF SIR THOS. MORE” - - - WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY - - THE REV. W. H. HUTTON, B.D. - FELLOW OF S. JOHN’S COLLEGE, OXFORD - - - AND TWENTY-SIX ILLUSTRATIONS BY - - JOHN JELLICOE AND HERBERT RAILTON - - - - - LONDON - JOHN C. NIMMO - NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS - MDCCCXCVII - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. - At the Ballantyne Press - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAP. PAGE - - I. —The Reminiscences of Mistress 1 - Cherry.—The Fire, & Double - Tide.—Mal-conversation - - II. —Cherry endeavours to remember if she 17 - were pretty.—A Water-party - - III. —Result of the Water-party 36 - - IV. —Chelsea Buns 56 - - V. —A Shadow on the House 77 - - VI. —Metanoia 95 - - VII. —Signs in the Air 114 - - VIII. —The Plague 136 - - IX. —Foreshadows 149 - - X. —A Friend in Need 169 - - XI. —Distinction between would & should 199 - - XII. —Camping out in Epping Forest 207 - - XIII. —Ghosts 226 - - XIV. —Riding a Pillion 243 - - XV. —The Squire’s Garden 259 - - XVI. —The Burning City 284 - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - From Drawings by JOHN JELLICOE and HERBERT RAILTON. - - - FRONTISPIECE. Frontispiece - Drawn by HERBERT RAILTON - - PAGE - - TITLE-PAGE. iii - Designed by HERBERT RAILTON - - MOTTO. iv - Designed by HERBERT RAILTON - - OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 1 - Drawn by HERBERT RAILTON - - “MY FATHER’S SHOP WAS ON THE EAST SIDE” 6 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE and HERBERT - RAILTON - - “ONE AND THE SAME CRADLE.” 10 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “IN THE ARBOUR AT THE TOP OF OUR HOUSE.” 20 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “THE BACK-ROOM IN WHICH HE SLEPT WAS A 22 - LEAN-TO STUCK AGAINST THE MAIN WALL.” - Drawn by HERBERT RAILTON - - “THIS COMICALITY DREW CROWDS OF PEOPLE.” 31 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “GOSSIPING WITH HUGH BRAIDFOOT.” 42 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “THE GAY PARTY SET OUT.” 63 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “LOOKED OUT ON THE BRIDGE.” 66 - Drawn by HERBERT RAILTON - - “I FOUND HER ON HER KNEES.” 82 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “AND SO THE GOOD MAN WENT.” 105 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “WE LET OUR WINDOWS.” 116 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “AND NOW A SHOCKING SIGHT WAS TO BE SEEN 122 - AT THE BRIDGE GATE.” - Drawn by HERBERT RAILTON - - “HOUSES WERE SHUT UP.” 136 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE and HERBERT - RAILTON - - “KEEPING THE GATES WITH MUCH JEALOUSY.” 140 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “I MADE FOR CHEAPSIDE.” 158 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE and HERBERT - RAILTON - - “A PARTY OF DISORDERLY YOUNG MEN.” 166 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “THERE HE LAY.” 179 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “WE HAD WORDS ABOUT IT.” 212 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “I SAW SOME WOMEN PASSING THROUGH THE 222 - TREES.” - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “THE OLD GARDEN WITH THE IRON GATE.” 231 - Drawn by HERBERT RAILTON - - “AN OLD RED-BRICK HOUSE.” 248 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE and HERBERT - RAILTON - - “A BOWLING-GREEN OF WONDERFUL FINE 260 - TURF.” - Drawn by HERBERT RAILTON - - IN THE SQUIRE’S GARDEN. 264 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE and HERBERT - RAILTON - - CHERRY’S WEDDING LEAVING THE CHURCH. 279 - Drawn by JOHN JELLICOE - - “ST. PAUL’S WAS NOW IN A BLAZE.” 294 - Drawn by HERBERT RAILTON - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - Introduction - - -SO reticent was Miss Manning in her lifetime, and so loyally have her -wishes been obeyed by her kindred since her death, that when Mr. Nimmo -last year re-published her beautiful memorial portrait, “The Household -of Sir Thomas More,” it was clear that whatever of her personal history -had ever been known had been already forgotten. She had indeed been -confused, in a Biographical Dictionary, with another writer: it even -needed the assurance of her surviving niece to convince inquirers that -she lived and died unmarried. Thus to live and die, “the world -forgetting, by the world forgot,” was what the gentle spirit chose. To -be known through her books, and loved, there can be little question, was -her ambition, and it was a wish which I cannot doubt is fulfilled. The -“author of ‘Mary Powell,’” as she styled herself on her title-pages, has -left several exquisite little studies, highly appreciated when they -first saw the light, and still worthy, as it seems to me, of that kind -of immortality of regard which is won by those writers whom none of us -would place in the first rank of Literature, but whom all who know them -remember with something of a personal affection. When I say that Miss -Manning reminds me of Miss Rossetti, I do not mean that the earlier -writer has the genius of the most perfect poet that ever, in the English -tongue, linked the highest aspirations of Religion with the most -exquisite expressions of Poetry; but rather that their minds were both -beautiful, their experiences pathetic, their hearts true. They would -walk together in Paradise, and understand each other: when our Lady of -Sorrows sings “Magnificat,” they would stand by, and their souls would -echo to her song. The matter of the work of each is very different, yet -in the manner there is something indescribably akin. Christina Rossetti -is one of the greatest writers of the century; but, unique though she -is, and unapproachable in her sphere, in the land below her the author -of “Mary Powell” has thought some of the same thoughts, and thought them -in the same way. - - “O my soul, she beats her wings, - And pants to fly away - Up to immortal things - In the heavenly day: - Yet she flags and almost faints; - Can such be meant for me?— - Come and see, say the Saints. - Saith Jesus: Come and see. - Say the saints: His pleasures please us - Before God and the Lamb. - Come and taste My sweets, saith Jesus: - Be with Me where I am.” - -The voice is that of Christina Rossetti, but it is the thought too of -her who wrote “Cherry and Violet.” - -Miss Manning, as we read her life in her books, walks through the world -with an unbounded charity and a hope ever refreshed. “Preach peace to -all,” said S. Francis of Assisi, “for often those whom you think to be -the children of the devil are those whom you will know some day to be -the sons of God.” Miss Manning loved to think of, and to look upon, -whatsoever things are lovely and of good report, and so thinking and -looking she found flowers everywhere to spring up beneath her feet. - - “Tread softly! all the earth is holy ground. - It may be, could we look with seeing eyes, - This spot we stand on is a Paradise - Where dead have come to life and lost been found, - Where faith has triumphed, martyrdom been crowned, - Where fools have foiled the wisdom of the wise; - From this same spot the dust of saints may rise, - And the King’s prisoners come to light unbound.” - -So when she turns to the sixteenth century, with its sordid materialism -and its coarse handling of things most sacred, not merely does she -recognise, as an Englishwoman, the grandeur of its struggles, but she -sees its best embodiment in the tragedy of an almost perfect life. As -she seeks refuge in that time of stress with the Household of Sir Thomas -More, so in the next century she turns aside from the pettiness of Pepys -or the realism of Defoe to the life of a simple girl born and nurtured -on the great bridge that spans the Thames. - - “Quali colombe dal disio chiamante - Con l’ali aperte e ferme al dolce nido - Volan per l’aer dal voler portate.” - -With “The Household of Sir Thomas More” we walked in the dangerous days -when the Lion found his strength. With “Cherry and Violet” we are in the -still more alarming atmosphere of the Commonwealth and the Restoration. -Year by year, as old houses open their chests, and scholars hunt among -their yellow papers, we learn more of the reign of terror which marked -the closing years of the Protectorate. We see one Verney living a “lude -life” with “my lord Claypoll” and other “my lords” the kindred of the -Protector; while another, the honest Sir Ralph, stoutest of -Parliamentarians, is clapped in prison, no man knows why; and at the -same time John Howe, pious Puritan preacher (whom Mistress Cherry -herself knew of), is confessing how impossible it is to win the family -which reigns at Whitehall to think of the welfare of their souls. Yet -all the while there hangs over the land the outer gloom of an enforced -conformity, which Miss Manning so happily describes. When we find -ourselves in the heyday of the Restoration, or when we watch the -splendours and the scandals of the Court of Charles II., we learn from -the scandalous Pepys—now so much more than ever since Mr. H. B. Wheatley -has given us all that it was possible to print of the wonderful Diary as -Pepys really wrote it—how utterly rotten was the social life of the age, -even among those, too often, who might seem to sit sedately above its -more flagrant iniquities. - -And then there comes in Defoe with his marvellous photographic realism -of fiction, and tells us of the horrors of the Plague with a fidelity -which those who had lived among them could, we fancy, hardly have -approached. - -From sources such as these—from Pepys and Defoe, as well as from the -more sober pages of the stately Evelyn, it is that Miss Manning takes -much of the _mise-en-scène_ of her “Tale of the Great Plague”; and we -find, as historic evidence accumulates around us, how true her imaginary -picture is. - -It was a happy thought which made the story begin on old London -Bridge—happier still, readers will now think when they see Mr. Herbert -Railton’s beautiful drawings. Something we learn of the stress of the -time as we recall, with Mistress Cherry, the strange pageants which the -bridge-dwellers watched from their windows. They saw the double tide, -portent of unknown woes. They saw how the mighty Strafford went serenely -to his death, and the old Archbishop passed up and down under guard on -the long days of his weary trial. They saw the King come to his own -again—and some of them may have looked out of windows that wet Sunday -night in 1662 when Mr. Pepys had left his singing of “some holy things” -and went back by water, shooting the rapids under “the bridge (which did -trouble me) home, and so to bed.” The life on the bridge must have been -something which an Englishman’s experience of to-day can hardly help to -picture. Something of it we may fancy as we enter an old shop on the -Ponte Vecchio at Florence, or look out upon it and the Arno from the -long corridor that connects the Uffizi with the Pitti. But on that -narrow space is no such crowded life as on old London Bridge—no such -dangers for foot-passengers, drivers, and horsemen. To picture this in -seventeenth-century England we must cross near mid-day from Stamboul -towards Pera by the far-famed Galata Bridge. Scarce anywhere but in -Florence and in Constantinople can we now recall what sights old London -Bridge must have witnessed. Mr. Railton sees them, though, very clearly, -and we are more than content to see with his eyes. Something idealised -they are, perhaps. Old London Bridge was hardly so beautiful, surely, as -he pictures it; and his drawings, perhaps, are more like what the houses -ought to have been than ever they were. “More Nurembergy than -Nuremberg,” says Mr. Ruskin of some of Prout’s famous work. We may say -it of Mr. Railton’s old London; and high praise it is. And as Mr. -Railton brings back to us the scenes, so Mr. Jellicoe gives us the -persons of old time in their habits as they lived. - -Among such surroundings we picture Cherry doing her simple duties, -tending her mother, thinking somewhat primly of her vivacious neighbour -Violet, fancying she has lost her heart for ever to poor Mark, and then -waking to a heroine’s work in the horrors of the Plague, and finding -through that her own bright reward. - -“The Plague growing on us,” says Pepys, and of remedies “some saying one -thing, and some another.” So it begins in May, and by the first week of -June, “much against my will, I did in Drury Lane see two or three houses -marked with a red cross upon the doors, and ‘Lord have mercy upon us’ -writ there; which was a sad sight to me, being the first of the kind -that to my remembrance I ever saw.” Ten days later, and as he goes in a -hackney coach from the Lord Treasurer’s, his coachman is struck of a -sudden “very sick and almost blind”—and journey by coach becomes “a very -dangerous passage nowadays.” So it comes till there are seven hundred -dying in a week, and “it was a sad noise to hear our bell to toll and -ring so often either for death or burials.” - -And soon, “But, Lord! how sad a sight it is to see the streets empty of -people and very few upon the ’Change. Jealous of every door that one -sees shut up, lest it should be the Plague; and about us two shops in -three, if not more, generally shut up.” - -Reports are terrible of the thousands who every week are carried to -their graves in the long pits; and with an even closer terror speaks the -record of the veracious diarist. “I went forth and walked towards -Moorfields (August 30th) to see (God forgive me my presumption!) whether -I could see any dead corpse going to the grave; but, as God would have -it, did not. But, Lord! how everybody looks, and discourse on the -streets is of death, and nothing else, and few people going up and down, -that the town is like a place distressed and forsaken.” “What a sad time -it is,” he writes on 20th September, “to see no boats upon the river; -and grass grows up and down White Hall Court, and nobody but poor -wretches in the streets.” - -To these records the genius of Defoe adds an immortal picture. “As this -puts me upon mentioning my walking the Streets and Fields”—he has been -speaking of the numbers that fled to the outskirts of the town, “into -the Fields and Woods, and into secret uncouth Places, almost anywhere to -creep into a Bush, or Hedge, and die,” and how it “was a general Method -to walk away” if any one was seen coming—“I cannot omit taking notice -what a desolate place the City was at that time. The great street I -lived in, which is known to be one of the broadest of all the streets of -London, I mean of the Suburbs as well as the Liberties; all the side -where the Butchers lived, especially without the Bars, was more like a -green Field than a paved Street, and the People generally went in the -middle with the Horses and Carts. It is true that the farthest End, -towards White-Chappel Church, was not all pav’d, but even the part that -was pav’d was full of Grass also; but this need not seem strange, since -the great Streets within the City, such as Leaden-Hall Street, -Bishopgate-Street, Cornhill, and even the Exchange itself, had Grass -growing in them, in several Places; neither Cart nor Coach were seen in -the Streets from Morning to Evening, except some Country Carts to bring -Roots and Beans, or Pease, Hay and Straw, to the Market, and those but -very few, compared to what was usual: as for Coaches, they were scarce -used, but to carry sick People to the Pest-House, and to other -Hospitals; and some few to carry Physicians to such Places as they -thought fit to venture to visit; for really coaches were dangerous -things, and People did not Care to venture into them because they did -not know who might have been carried in them last; and sick infected -People were, as I have said, ordinarily carried in them to the -Pest-Houses, and some times People expired in them as they went along. - -“It is true, when the Infection came to such a Height as I have now -mentioned, there were very few Physicians which car’d to stir abroad to -sick Houses, and very many of the most eminent of the Faculty were dead -as well as the Surgeons also; for now it was indeed a dismal time, and -for about a month together, not taking any Notice of the Bills of -Mortality, I believe there did not die less than 1500 or 1700 a-Day, one -Day with another. - -“One of the worst Days we had in the whole Time, as I thought, was in -the Beginning of September, when indeed good People began to think that -God was resolved to make a full End of the People in this miserable -City. This was at that Time when the Plague was fully come into the -Eastern Parishes: the Parish of Algate, if I may give my Opinion, buried -above a thousand a Week for two Weeks, though the Bills did not say so -many; but it surrounded me at so dismal a rate, that there was not a -House in twenty uninfected; in the Minories, in Houndsditch, and in -those Parts of Algate about the Butcher-Row, and the Alleys over against -me, I say in those places Death reigned in every Corner. White-Chappel -Parish was in the same Condition, and tho’ much less than the Parish I -liv’d in; yet buried near 600 a Week by the Bills; and in my Opinion -near twice as many; whole Families, and indeed whole Streets of Families -were swept away together; insomuch that it was frequent for Neighbours -to call to the Bellman, to go to such and such Houses, and fetch out the -People, for that they were all dead.” - -There is little, if anything, in the description which is exaggerated. -How much in tone as well as detail Miss Manning learnt from this great -master of fiction is clear. But it was altogether foreign to her nature -to paint long in such gloomy colours, and she turned, with a true art, -from the horrors of the Plague to the peace of country life “in good -King Charles’s golden days.” - -So she brings her heroine down into Berkshire. A very short journey we -take it to have been, or the old horse must have been more swift of foot -than we should gather from Mistress Cherry’s description, for Buckland -in Berks lies not far from Faringdon, and over seventy miles from London -town. One of those quiet little villages it is that nestle among the low -hills that overlook the peaceful valley of the upper Thames. A fine old -church may have had Master Blower for its vicar. It has four bells and a -register that date from his day. There are memorials of two families, -the Yates and the Southbys, who have passed away with the good old -times. The house is not such as Mistress Cherry stayed in, but speaks -all of the eighteenth century, of George the Second and Mr. Wood of -Bath. - -It is tempting to wonder whether this part of the country was one Miss -Manning ever saw—whether she watched the deer speeding by her—whether -she felt the fascination of - - “This little stream whose hamlets scarce have names, - This far-off, lonely mother of the Thames.” - -One may like to fancy her rejoicing in it, as Dante Gabriel Rossetti -rejoiced, who lived in a quaint old house such as she had pictured -Master Blower welcoming Cherry into, only a few miles away from -Buckland, at Kelmscott. But the place refuses to be identified, and we -must be content to conclude that Mistress Cherry’s geography was at -fault. - -Having chosen a striking setting for her characters, Miss Manning knew -well how to give them life. She had a quiet humour, and a kindly -knowledge of human nature, which made her draw true portraits. Different -readers will have their favourites, but I think few will fail to be -drawn to honest Nathaniel Blower, priest and scholar, who, after days of -poverty such as we may read many a true history of in Walker’s -“Sufferings of the Clergy,” and a sore struggle with the Plague, lived -to be Rector of Whitechapel, and better still, after the crowning -misfortune of the Fire, to end his days quietly among the country folk -at Bucklands with his good wife by his side. Master Blower is indeed -drawn with Miss Manning’s happiest touches: we do not readily forget the -figure he presents in bed, or how he “in his Deliration went through the -whole Book of Job in his head.” - -Whether most lads would not fall in love with Violet we cannot tell, but -certainly quiet Cherry is a good woman, worthy of the hand of Mary -Wilkins. We may sometimes feel that she is a damsel of the nineteenth -century at masquerade in the dress of two centuries before; but we like -her none the less if we fancy she is good Miss Manning in disguise. - -And so we leave her and Master Blower happy in their home at Bucklands. -Good man, we doubt not he tilled his garden and tended his parish well, -like the Berkshire priest and poet of to-day, and, it may be, with the -same thought. - - “In all my borders I my true love seek - By flowery signs to set: - Praising the rose-carnation for her cheek, - Her hair the violet; - - Flowers that with sweet returns each season bloom, - As each its impulse wakes, - Making air fragrant with a purple gloom, - Or whorl of crimson flakes. - - And ye who blanch your glow, violets more rare, - Carnation, foam of light; - Be pledges of a beauty still more fair - When hair and cheek are white.” - -All’s well that ends well. After prim Puritanism and roystering -Restoration revels, after Plague and Fire, comes the quiet ending in the -country’s peace. - - W. H. HUTTON. - - THE GREAT HOUSE, BURFORD, - _June 26, 1896_. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHERRY AND VIOLET - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -[Illustration] - - - CHERRY AND VIOLET - - - - - CHAPTER I - - _The Reminiscences of Mistress Cherry.—The Fire, & Double - Tide.—Mal-conversation._ - - -I WONDER whether many People, on reviewing their past Lives, feel as I do on -looking back on mine; that, had they had the ordering the outward -Circumstances connected with them beforehand, such as Time, Place, -Health, Sickness, Friends, Acquaintances, and such-like Conditions, they -could not have arranged them half so well as they have been disposed for -them. When I fall into a Muse on the Past, the Moments fly so swiftly -that I am lost in Amazement when I find how the Time has slipped by -while thus pleasantly employed. And yet many of the Arrangements which -were made for me by a greater Wisdom than mine, were such as at the Time -were far from agreeable to me; nay, were sometimes so repugnant to Flesh -and Blood as to nourish rebellious Thoughts, and call forth Showers of -Tears. And still the Process went on; as I now see, all for my Good. - -My Father married my Mother in the Spring of the Year 1632: being then -in the Prime of Life, a personable, charming-looking Man, though small -of Stature, and with a Nose somewhat awry. In his Conditions he was ever -most lovely; of a sweet Temper, shrewd Observance, stout Heart, and -lively Wit. Many, no Doubt, had read more, by reason of their -Opportunities; but what few Books he knew, he turned to Profit, and -perhaps no Man concocted his Reading into Judgment better than he; by -which he became so judicious and oracular, as that though he could not -indeed prophesy, he could presage; and some of his Presages came true -and others not, but might have done so, had Events taken but in a very -slight Degree a different Course. He knew how to sound his Customers, -and suck the Marrow of their Knowledge, while keeping his own Counsel: -but this was his Prudence, not Pusillanimity, for I have heard it -remarked by one who knew him well, that the _Trojan_ Horse was not more -full of Valour than he, for so small a Man. Being a Hair-dresser, this -was not so evident in him as if he had been a Soldier; but yet every -Man’s Life affords Occasions, as my Father’s certainly did, of showing -what is in him and what is not. - -In Dress, his Taste was excessive neat, and yet gaudy; so that on -_Sundays_, when he appeared in what he called his Marigold-and-Poppy, -with his Hair, which Men then wore very long, combed down in large -smooth Curls, his laced Collar nicely ironed, his Beaver well brushed, -and his Shoes shining like Coals ... it would have been difficult to -find a Grain of Fault with him, save that, as my Cousin _Mark_ was wont -to say, the Colours of his Suit did too much swear at one another. For -my own Part, I always had an Impression that he was an excessive -well-looking Man, not out of any Prejudice, but downright Prepossession; -and yet my dear Mother, who I am sure loved him truly, always said to me -when I alluded to the Subject, “My Dear, the Qualities of his Person -were always far exceeded by those of his Mind.” - -Of my Cousin _Mark_, who was my Father’s Apprentice, there could not be -two Opinions. He was winsome, lightsome, debonair; of most comely Person -and Aspect: we were all very proud of him, and he of himself. If he had -a Fault, it was thinking too much of himself and too little of others; -but this is so common that I do not know I am justified in -particularizing it. Also he was somewhat of a Coward, not in respect of -personal, animal Courage, of which I suppose he had as much as the -aforesaid _Trojan_ Horse, whatever that might be; but morally cowardly, -as to what would be thought of him by others, and dreading the Evil of -the present Moment, and so forth; which Men don’t think so bad a kind of -Cowardice as the other, but I do. - -But his Temper was most sweet: his Manners most engaging. Oh! how much -he came to be thought of, at length, all along the Bridge! I have no -other Fault to find in him besides those already reckoned; unless it -were a general Want of Principle, which was less apparent than it would -have been, had it not been covered rather than supplied by good Feeling. -But ’tis ill reckoning the Faults of one’s Friends. - -Of my Mother, how shall I say enough? She was tall, slender, and comely -to look upon, with sweet and quick grey Eyes. She was naturally of a -high Spirit, which had been brought under a Curb by Divine Grace. She -was kind and obliging to all, stirring and thrifty, yet not niggardly; -soft-hearted to the Poor, of wonderful Propriety without the least -Priggishness, loved by her Friends, and especially in her own Family. -Now I have counted up the whole House except our Lodger, Master -_Blower_, and _Dolly_, the Cook. - -[Illustration: - - My Father’s shop was on the east side of London Bridge -] - -My Father’s Shop was on the east Side of _London Bridge_. Over his Door -hung his Sign of “_The Lock of Hair_;” and over the Shop-front was -painted in yellow Letters the following Inscription,— - - “PETER CURLING _sells all Sorts of Hair, Curled or Uncurled, - Roses, Braids, Cauls, Ribbons, Weaving, Sewing-silk, Cards, and - Blocks. Together with Combs, Crisping-pins, Perfumery, and all - other Goods made use of by Tonsors and Hairdressers, at the - Lowest Prices_.” - -On the opposite Side of the Way, was a Vintner’s, by the Name of _Abel_, -who had humorously set up _a Bell_ for his Sign, and painted beneath it, -“Quoth the Wag, I am _Abel_.” - -Next Door to us on one Side, lived a Bookseller and Stationer named -_Benskin_, whose Sign was the Bible and Star; and next Door to us on the -other Side was a Glover named _Hugh Braidfoot_, a jolly, good-tempered -Bachelor, black-haired, fresh-coloured, and six Feet high, whose Sign -was the Roebuck. - -A few Weeks after my Birth, which was in _February, 1633_, in the Midst -of a notable hard Frost, there broke out a most dreadful Fire at the -north End of the Bridge, which consumed all the Houses on both Sides, -from _St. Magnus’_ Church to the first open Space on the Bridge. There -was, I have heard tell, much bodily Hurt as well as Destruction of -Property; many Persons in precipitating themselves from upper Stories, -getting their Limbs broken. “Water! Water!” was the Cry, and all in -vain, for though the _Thames_ lay right under the Houses, ’twas one -great Cake of Ice, and the only Resource was to break the Conduit Pipes -that ran through the Streets leading to the Bridge, and sweep the Water -down with Brooms, to supply the three Engines that every one had thought -would be such Helps in Time of Need, but which proved very sorry Helps -indeed. In the Midst of the Tumult and Danger, some Neighbours of ours -that were burned out of House and Home, took Refuge with us; to wit, the -Wife and infant Daughter of Master _Samuel Armytage_, Haberdasher of -small Wares; the Infant being, like myself, a Nursling of only a few -Weeks old. These homeless Strangers did my Mother hospitably and -Christianly entertain, bestirring herself more in her Care for them than -in her tender Case it was fit she should have done, and putting us two -Infants into one and the same Cradle. With our little Arms locked about -one another, in an Atmosphere of Christian Love, ’twas no Wonder that -little _Violet_ and I conceived a Tenderness for each other, e’en while -Sucklings, that grew with our Growth, and strengthened with our -Strength. As for the elder Parties, Hospitality on the one Side and -Thankfulness on the other caused a more than common Friendliness to -spring up between them from that Time forth. And when the Fugitives were -re-established in their re-built Houses, they long had an impressive and -solemnifying Remembrance of their narrow Escape from an awful and -terrible Death. - -[Illustration] - -Now, though I cannot, of course, remember Anything of the Fire, I have a -perfect Recollection of the next notable Occurrence among us, of _the -Double Tide_, which happened in my eighth Year; and how the River, after -lying as still as a Stone for more than an Hour, suddenly came foaming -up from _Greenwich_, roaring, boiling, and splashing to that Degree that -it was Horror to look upon. And my Father, after contemplating the -Prodigy along with all the rest, exclaimed, “Well, Friends! you may say -what you will; but I, though not a superstitious Man, think Something -will come of it.” And did not Something come of it ... or, at any Rate, -after it? and were not we, that had previously been sleeping on the -still Waters of a settled Government, horribly overwhelmed with a Tide -of Rebellion, Anarchy, and Republicanism? - -The Year before the Double Tide, there had been much Talk in my Father’s -Shop, about the Earl of _Strafford_ being given over to the Black Rod, -which I, being of such tender Years, could not well make out, but it -seemed to carry an ill Sound with it. After that, he was taken to his -Trial; and passed from his Prison in the _Tower_ to _Westminster_, under -our Bridge. We looked forth of our Windows, and discerned him plainly in -one of the Barges, guarded by Soldiers with Partizans; and there was -much Yelling and Hooting as he went through the Arch, which I for my -Part was sorry for, he was so handsome and personable a Gentleman. The -People, however, were much incensed against him; and, about three Months -after the Double Tide, there was what I may call a Double Tide of -’Prentices and tumultuous Citizens, to the Number of about six Thousand, -(my Cousin, _Mark Blenkinsop_, being among them,) who assembled -themselves in an intimidating Manner at _Westminster_, many of them -armed with Swords and Staves, and demanded Lord _Strafford’s_ Death of -the Peers as they went to the House. - -I remember my Father, for as small a Man as he was, collaring _Mark_ -when he came back, and dealing him one or two Blows, which made me begin -to cry, and run in between them. And _Mark_, though a great, tall Lad of -his Years, began to whimper too, which reminds me again of the _Trojan_ -Horse, and the Valour that may dwell in a little Body, and the -Pusillanimity that may be in a large one. And, “sure, Uncle,” says -_Mark_, “the Earl deserves to die, for his” ... Mal-conversation, or -Malministration, I forget which. And my Father replied, “Never trouble -your Head with that. Leave the Powers that be to settle their own -Affairs. Fine Times, indeed, when Barbers’ ’Prentices must be meddling -in State-politics! To his own Master, the _Earl_ standeth or falleth.” - -Had all Men been of my Father’s equable and temperate Mind, we should -not have fallen into the Disorders we presently did; wherein, no Doubt, -there was much Wrong on both Sides. One Night we were roused from Sleep -by Cries in the Street that “the _King_ and his Papists were coming to -fire the City and cut our Throats in our Beds;” but my Father, after -putting his Head forth to learn the Nature of the Tumult, drew it in -again and closed the Window, allaying our somewhat ungoverned Fears with -that Composure which it behoves every Master of a Family to assume when -he can, in Seasons of Danger or the Apprehension of it. - -Soon there was open War between _King_ and _Parliament_, which went on -increasing till the whole Country was filled with Bloodshed and -Confusion, and only ended in a total Change of Government. We were now -in a State of Fortification; for the _Lords_ and _Commons_ had directed -that the whole City should be put in a State of Defence, and that the -_Lord Mayor_ and Citizens should trench, stop, and fortify all Highways -leading thereunto. Wherefore, all Entrances into _London_ except five, -were stoned and bricked up altogether; and those five were made as -strong as could be, with Breast-works and Turn-pikes, Musket-proof. And -all Sheds and Out-buildings outside _London Wall_, that were near enough -to be advantageous to an Enemy, were taken down; and this gave a great -deal of Work to do that behoved to be done quickly; wherefore even Women -and Children helped the Men in carrying Earth, Stones, &c., for, by this -Time, there was in the City a pretty general Disaffection towards the -_King_; and those that wished him well and could not get to him, found -it best to hold their Peace. - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER II - - _Cherry endeavours to remember if she were pretty.—A Water-party._ - - -AND now my Memory flies on to the Time when, I suppose, I was as happy a -Girl as any on the _Bridge_. I know not whether I were pretty or not,—I -rather suppose I was, but my Father praised me too much, and my dear -Mother never praised me at all, so that I have no Clue to what was -really thought of me. There’s an old Saying, “Even a little Beetle is a -Beauty in the Eyes of its Mother,”—I am bold to think that if I had been -a little Black-beetle, I should still have been a Beauty in the Eyes of -my Father. My Mother used to tell him “all his Geese were Swans,” which -was as much as to say that hers were not: be that as it may, if she -praised me less, I always felt she loved me as much as he did; and I -loved her to the full as much as I loved him. - -I remember coming down Stairs one _Sunday_ Morning, dressed for -Church,—(we had no Liturgy, nor Church of _England_ Clergymen then, such -was the Will of _Parliament_,)—dressed in a primrose Petticoat and -grass-green Mantua neatly bundled up behind; black Mits without a Crease -in them for Tightness, white Pinners starched and crimped, and a small -steeple-crowned Hat,—when _Mark_, meeting me at the Stair-foot, stepped -out of my Way with a sliding Bow, said, “Bless me, how pretty we are!” -and looked attentively after me. I felt ashamed and yet elated; and -thought somewhat more of myself and of him after that; yet I am not -quite sure, now, that his Speech was not ironical, after all. - -Of my Friend and Schoolfellow, _Violet Armytage_, there could not be two -Opinions. She was excessively pretty, and knew it too well: which was -partly the Fault of her Father, who was always calling her his “sweet -_Wi-let_;” and yet, even if he had not, I think she would have found it -out, for all that. _My_ Father called me his rosy _Cherry_, but I knew -it for his Manner of Speaking. But _Violet_ always believed Everything -that was said in her Praise. She was fond of me by Fits and Starts; and -when the affectionate Fit was on, she would bring her Work and sit with -me in the Arbour at the Top of our House, by the Hour together. -Sometimes my Father and Mother would join us there in the long Summer -Evenings, and we would sup in the open Air; no one objecting to it but -_Dolly_, who had to carry the Things up so many Pair of Stairs. - -At other Times, when my Father and Mother were otherwise engaged, _Mark_ -would come up to us; and sit upon the Roller or Watering-pot, and say -ever so many funny Things to us both; which we thought very pleasant. -Sometimes _Violet_ would let her Ball of Thread roll through the Rails -and drop down into the Street, and send him to fetch it; and when he had -brought it she would do the same Thing again; which he said was too bad, -but I don’t think he minded it. I never played him such Tricks myself; -for, what was singular, though we lived in the same House together, I -was shyer of him than she was. - -[Illustration] - -Our first Floor was let to a very learned and excellent Man, though a -very singular one, the Reverend _Nathanael Blower_, who had been Curate -of _St. Magnus_ till the Form of Religion changed. Then he was hard put -to it, where to lay his Head without fleeing the Country or getting into -Trouble; for the Independents were mighty intolerant; and he whom we -used to think it a great Honour to get a passing Word and a Smile from, -was now thankful to take up his Rest among us. Holy Writ tells us that -some have entertained Angels unawares: if we entertained an Angel, it -was not unawares, though he was a very eccentric and untidy one. He said -he would have called my Mother the good _Shunammite_ if it had not been -a Shame to provoke Comparison between himself and the Prophet _Elijah_. -Indeed his was somewhat like the “Chamber on the Wall,” for the -Back-room in which he slept was a Lean-to that stuck against the main -Wall like a Swallow’s Nest, and hung perilously over the foaming River, -trembling at every half-ebb Tide; but Use inures us to Everything, and -he said he slept as well in his Nest as a Sailor in his Hammock. As to -his Sitting-chamber, it was soon a perfect Pig-sty (if Pigs ever had -Books) of Papers, Parchments, Books, Pamphlets, old Shoes, Hats and -Coats, Medicines, Cordials, Snuff-boxes, Pipes, Walking-sticks, and -Everything that is untidy. After a Time he began to think whether he -might not, by a conscientious Conformity, be a Working-bee rather than a -Drone in the Hive; and, having some Acquaintance with Master _John -Howe_, the _Whitehall_ Preacher, who was known to be forward in -assisting the Royalists and Episcopalians in Distress, if they were but -Men of Merit, he went and took his Advice on the Subject before he -presented himself before the Triers, that is to say, those who tried the -ejected Ministers whether they might be allowed to officiate again in -Public or not. Along with him went Doctor _Fuller_, so well known by his -wise and witty Books; who was generally upon the merry Pin, for as pious -a Man as he was. He, presenting himself before Master _Howe_, said, - -[Illustration: - - The Back-room in which he slept was a Lean-to that stuck against the - Main Wall -] - -“Sir, you may observe I am a pretty corpulent Man, and I am to go -through a Passage that is very strait. I beg you would be so kind as to -give me a Shove, and help me through!” - -Master _Howe_ smiled, and frankly debated the Subject with him and -Master _Blower_; and the End of it was, that when the Triers put it to -Master _Fuller_ whether he had ever had any Experience of a Work of -Grace upon his Heart, he made Answer, that he could appeal to the -Searcher of Hearts, that he made Conscience of his very Thoughts; and -Master _Blower_ said in other Words what amounted to the same Thing; -howbeit, like _Pharaoh’s_ Butler and Baker, one was accepted—the other -not. - -And the Reason was, that they got upon the Question of particular Faith, -which was very prevalent in _Oliver Cromwell’s_ Court, and put it to him -whether he did not believe that all who asked for Anything in Faith -would have it granted them, as well as have an Assurance on the Spot -that it would be so. Which he said, in that large, unqualified Sense, he -did not, for that he believed many timid Believers had the Faith of -Adherence who had not the Faith of Assurance; and that if Prayer were -made for some unreasonable Thing, however fervently, he did not think it -would be granted. That would not stand Master _Blower_; so he had to -come back to his Swallow’s Nest. - -“But is it not an extraordinary Thing, now,” saith he to my Mother, -“that they should, except for the Sake of catching a Man in his Talk, so -hardly insist on the literal Acceptance of a Dogma which they themselves -must know they overstrain? For would one of them dare to pray that his -Father or Mother might come to Life again in this present World, however -much he might long to see them in the Body? Or that all Jews, Infidels, -and Heretics, might be converted this very Moment, however desirable a -Thing it might be? We do the Word of God Dishonour and make it of none -Effect when we interpret by the Letter instead of the Spirit.” - -In this Fashion would the excellent Master _Blower_ vouchsafe to -converse with my Mother in my Hearing, much to her Edification and mine. -Meantime _Violet Armytage_ was much more given to Flirting than -Preaching; and had more Admirers than any Girl on the _Bridge_; but the -Man whom she and her Mother were chiefly desirous she should captivate -was no Admirer of hers at all. This was _Hugh Braidfoot_, the Glover, -who lived next Door to us; and who talked the Matter over with my Father -very freely when they had the Shop to themselves; I sewing in the -Parlour behind. - -“I can see quite plainly through the old Lady,” quoth he, as he sate on -his favourite Seat, the Counter, with his Feet easily reaching the -Floor, “I can see what she’s driving at, and don’t respect her for it a -bit. Why should she always be buying Gloves three or four Sizes too -small for her broad red Hand, and then be sending _Violet_ over to -change them again and again till they fit? I’ve a dozen Pair wasted that -she has stretched. And where is the other Daughter, and why is she -always in the Background?” - -“_Kitty_ is sickly and a little lame,” says my Father, “and has her -Health better in the Country.” - -“I don’t believe she’s either sickly or lame,” says _Hugh Braidfoot_, -“only the Mother wants to get this Daughter off first—and stands in her -own Light by her Manœuvres, I can tell her. Defend me from a managing -Mother!” - -About this Time, my Father’s Trade had a short but surprising Impetus, -which, as he said to my Mother, “was but the Flaring up of a Candle in -the Socket, just before it goes out.” Cropped Heads and long Curls being -now the Signs of different Parties, and the Round-heads having the -uppermost, numerous Persons that had hitherto been vain enough of their -long and graceful Tresses, which brought no small Gain to the -Hairdressers, were now anxious to be shorn as close as _French_ Poodles, -for Fear of getting into Scrapes with the reigning Power. And as, like -the Sheep after Shearing, they left their Fleeces behind them, which -were in many Cases exceeding valuable, my Father and _Mark_ were busied -from Morning to Night, in washing, baking, and weaving beautiful Sets of -Hair, which were carefully reserved for future Occasion. - -“For you will see,” quoth my Father, “there will sooner or later be a -Reaction; _I_ may not live to see it, but you Youngsters will; People -will be tired of Puritanism and Rebellion some of these Days, and then -the old State of Things will come back; and the Croppies will be as -ashamed of their Stubble Heads as the Cavaliers are of their Love-locks -now; and, as Hair won’t grow as fast as green Peas, they will then be -constrained to wear Wigs, and then will come a rare Time for the -Barbers!” Every Word of which, like so many other of his Prophesyings -and Presages, in due Season proved strictly true! - -Meantime, though this Fury for cropping filled the Till as long as there -was any long Hair to cut off, yet, this being presently done, a great -Stagnation of Business ensued; for, whereas the curled Locks had -required constant curling, brushing, and trimming, the round Heads were -easily kept short, and brought only Pence where the others had brought -Shillings. My Father kept his Hair long to the last; and, to express his -Opinion of the Times so as e’en they who ran might read, he set up two -waxen Effigies in his Window, not merely Heads, but half Lengths; the -one representing an exceeding comely and handsome young Man, (very much -like my Cousin _Mark_,) with long, fair Tresses most beautifully -crimped, falling over his _Vandyke_ Collar and black Velvet Coat: the -other, with as red a Nose as old _Noll_, close cropped, so as to show -his large Ears sticking out on each Side. And to make the Satire more -pungent, the Round-head made as though pointing to the Cavalier, with a -small Label superscribed, “See what I was!”—and the Cavalier, with a -Look of silent Disgust, was signing at the Round-head and saying, “See -what I shall be!” - -[Illustration] - -This Comicality, which had cost my Father and _Mark_ sundry Hours of -evening Labour,—(I had made the Dresses,) drew Crowds of People to the -Window, so as even to obstruct the Passage along the Bridge; and excited -Peals of ironical Laughter; till, at length, Mirth proceeding to -Mischief, Blows began to ensue among those who favoured opposite Sides. -Then the Bridgewardens came with Constables and Weapons to quell the -Disturbance, and an idle Fellow was set in the Cage, and another, with -long Hair, put in the Stocks; and one or two of our Panes of Glass were -broken; so that what began in Sport ended much too seriously; and my -Father, finding he must yield to the Times, changed the Cavalier’s -Placard into “See what you had better be,” and finally removed it -altogether, saying he was nauseated with time-serving. But he persisted -in wearing his own long Hair, come what would; which drew from the -Reverend Master _Blower_ that Similitude about the _Trojan_ Horse, who, -I suppose, persisted in wearing his Mane and long Tail after they had -become Types of a Party. And when my Father was called in question for -it by one of the Bridgewardens, and asked why he persevered in troubling -_Israel_, he with his usual Spirit retorted upon him with, “How can a -Tonsor be expected to hold with a Party that puts Pence into his Till -instead of Shillings?” Whereupon the Bridgewarden called him a -self-interested _Demas_, and said no more to him. - -_Hugh Braidfoot_ upheld him through thick and thin, laughing all the -while; though he kept his own bushy Head as short as a Blacking-brush. -Indeed, this Man, though the Essence of Mirth and Good-humour, strongly -built, and six Foot high, had not a Quarter of my Father’s Valour. - -As for Master _Blower_, he made a wry Face on it, saying that Magnasheh -Miksheh (which I afterwards heard was Hebrew for well-set Hair) was now -of no Account. - -—One Evening,—I have good Reason to remember it,—the Days being sultry -and at their longest,—we made a Pleasure-party to _Greenwich_, and took -Water below the Bridge. Coming back just as the Moon was rising, a -Boat-full of uproarious and half-intoxicated young Men fell foul of us -and upset us. I shall never forget my Sensations as I went into the -Water!—The next Minute, I was half out of it again, and found _Mark’s_ -Arm close round me, while with the other he struck out, and presently -brought me ashore. My dear Father also rescued my Mother; and _Hugh -Braidfoot’s_ long Legs helped him more in wading out like a Heron, I -think, than his Arms in swimming, for he, too, presently came aland, -covered with Mud. My Mother and I cried, and felt very grateful to -_Mark_, who stood panting and colouring, and looking very much pleased -with himself; and presently we were all in another Boat on our Way to -the Bridge Stairs, drenched, quiet, and thankful for our providential -Escape.... I, especially, feeling, oh! how happy!—Yet, in after Days, -there was a Time when I was ready to wish _Mark_ had left me in the -River—. - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER III - - _Result of the Water-Party._ - - -THE only Person in the Boat, who was left for the Boatman to save, was -Mistress _Glossop_, the Widow of a _Cheapside_ Hairdresser in a much -larger Way of Business than my Father, with whom we were on very -intimate Terms. She was a Woman of about forty-five, tall, bulky, and -with a very heated Face, which was the Result of Intemperance, not in -drinking, but eating, as I have often heard her acknowledge. She was -fond of Everything nice, and had a Habit of saying, “Oh, I can’t resist -this!” “I never can resist that!” which used to disgust me with her; and -make me ready to say, “More Shame for you if you cannot.” She and her -Husband had always been well to do; and now she was Mistress of a large -Business, with Court-patronage, such as it was, and a Foreman and three -’Prentices under her; besides keeping a professed Cook, Housemaid, and -Scullion. And whereas she and Master _Glossop_ had always been -Companions and Gossips of my Father and Mother, whose Ages were suitable -to them, yet, now she had cast off her Weeds, she went mighty fine; and -_Mark_, who thought her sufficiently unagreeable, though he often went -on Errands to her, said he was sure she was casting about for a second. -To a Woman of her Habit, the Ducking she got was unlikely to be of much -Good; and as for her flame-coloured Mantua, and pea-green Mantle, they -were ruined outright: however, she was very merry about it, and as we -were all engaged to sup with her, would hear of no excuse. Howbeit, my -Mother was too wet for doing Anything but going Home and to Bed: my -Father would not leave her; _Hugh Braidfoot_ said he would join us, but -did not; and the End was, that _Mark_ and I, when we had dressed -ourselves afresh and kept our Engagement, found Nobody to meet us but -some _Cheapside_ Shop-keepers who had not been on the Water. And though -they made very merry, and though there were Lobsters, and Pound-cake, -and Ducks, and green Peas, and fried Plum-pudding, and Gooseberry Pie, -and other Delicacies too numerous to mention, I had no Mind to eat, but -sat shivering, and scorching, and thinking of the Water closing over me; -and at length, before any one else was ready to leave, begged Mistress -_Glossop_ to let me wish her Good-night. - -_Mark_, though he was in high Spirits, came away with me, and very -kindly said he feared I was the worse for the Accident. And though he -had been very talkative at the Supper-table, yet as soon as we got into -the open Air we became as quiet as two Judges, and walked Home scarcely -speaking a Word, till we came to that last one, “Good-night.” - -I had taken Cold, which, with a good deal of Fever attending it, made me -very poorly for some Days; and my dear Mother, who did not show it so -much at first, had in fact taken her Death-chill, though we knew it not -till long afterwards. Meantime, she kept about; I seeming at first the -worst of the two, and sitting by the Fire in a Cloke, very chilly, -though ’twas close upon the Dog-days. _Violet Armytage_ came over the -Way to see me; and saith she, “Dear _Cherry_, how well _Mark_ behaved! I -shall think the better of him for it as long as I live!” - -I felt I should do so too, but had no Mind to speak much about it; and, -my Cold being heavy, and making me indisposed to talk, she soon went -away. Almost daily, however, she came across; and, when she did not, -_Mark_ went at her Desire to tell her how I was. - -And so I got well; and just as I was fit for going out again, my dear -Mother’s Illness became so apparent that I kept wholly to the House. At -first we thought it troublesome rather than dangerous, and were not -frightened; and, though I sat by her Bed almost all Day long, she would -sometimes send me down to work below and keep an Eye to the House. Her -Illness subdued me a good deal; and _Mark_ was become unwontedly gentle -and silent; so that, though we scarce saw each other save at Meals, we -said little; and yet I never felt him to be better Company. - -_Violet_ sent me Word that unusual Press of Business in the Shop kept -her from coming over, but begged I would never let a Day pass without -sending her Word how my Mother was; which I did, though thinking, now -and then, she might have just run over, if but for a Minute. - -One sultry Evening, my Mother being ready to compose herself to Sleep, -bade me sit below till she rang for me, as she was sure the Room must be -warm and close. It was so, in fact, and I was feeling a little faint, -therefore was glad to sit at the open Casement of our Parlour behind the -Shop. The Business of the Day was done; my Father was gossiping with -_Hugh Braidfoot_ next Door; there was a pleasing Confusion of distant -Sounds from the City and along the Water; Boatmen calling “Yo, heave -ho,” and singing Snatches of Boat-songs; the Water trembling and -murmuring among the Arches, and the Evening Air feeling soft and -reviving. - -[Illustration] - -While I was thus sitting, all alone save for _Dolly_ in the Kitchen, and -Master _Blower_ on the first Story, _Mark_ comes in and gives me a Posy, -saying, “_Violet_ sends you these Flowers:” and then remained, with his -Hand resting on the Back of my Chair. - -I know not how long we thus remained, quite silent, and I conscious of -great Pleasure in his Presence; till at last, for want of Anything more -important to say, I observed, “How pleasant the Evening Air is coming -over the Water!” - -“Very,” said he, without seeming to be thinking much about it: and again -we were both quiet. - -“Cousin,” said he at length, in a very gentle Voice,—which was not his -usual Way of addressing me, for in common he called me _Cherry_,— - -—“Dear Cousin, I have something to say to you”—and stopped. - -“What is it, _Mark_?” said I, softly. - -“We have lived long together,” began he again, faintly laughing, “and I -never felt afraid of speaking to you, before—How odd it is that I should -feel so, now!” - -“What have you to be afraid about?” said I, looking up at him: on which -he coloured and looked away; and I did the same, without knowing why. - -“You have always been my Friend,” resumed he, taking Courage; “you will -not be angry with me?” - -“Why should I?” said I. “Is there Anything to be angry about?” - -“Perhaps you may think so,” said he, “when you come to know all. Dear -_Cherry_, I’m in Love!” And laughed, and then was silent. - -I never felt so perplexed what to say next. “I don’t see that is any -Matter of mine,” said I at length. - -“Don’t you, though? But that depends upon whom I’m in Love with!” said -he, smiling. “If it were with Anybody a hundred Miles off, that you had -never seen or heard of, you might say it was no Matter of yours; but, -_Cherry_, she’s not one Mile off! She’s the prettiest Girl on the -Bridge!” - -“Then,” said I, turning scarlet as I spoke, “it must certainly be -_Violet Armytage_!” - -“It is!” cried he rapturously. “What a Guesser you are!—Dear _Cherry_!” - -Oh! what a Bound my Heart gave; and then seemed to stop! For,—I’m only -speaking to myself; to myself I may own the Truth—I had not thought he -meant _Violet_! - -“Ah,” said he, after a long Silence, which I was as unable as he was -disinclined to break, “I dare say you’ve seen it all along—I may have -told you no News—you are such a good Secret-keeper, _Cherry_!” - -I could not yet say a Word—He had taken my Hand and wrung it; and I -gently pressed his in Sign of Sympathy; it was all I could do, but it -was quite enough. - -“How kind you are!” said he. “What do you think my Uncle will say?” - -“What do you think her Father will say?” said I faintly. - -“We are not going to tell him just yet,” returned he, “nor yet her -Mother.” - -“That sounds bad, _Mark_——” - -“Nay, _Cherry_, you know how crazy the old Lady is to have _Braidfoot_ -for her Son-in-law; she’ll find in Time he won’t come forward, and -_Violet_ will take care he shall not, for she will give him no -Encouragement; but, till her Mother finds it won’t do, there’s no Use in -my speaking, for you know I have nothing to marry upon, yet.” - -“When shall you have?” said I. - -“_When?_” repeated he, looking a little annoyed. “Why, _some of these -Days_, as the Saying is. You know I am thorough Master of my Business -now, have served my time, receive good Wages, and am very useful to your -Father. Who knows but that, as Time goes on, he’ll take me for a -Partner, and finally retire from Business?” - -“Ah, _Mark_, so little comes in now, that he will have nothing to retire -upon. We can but just go on as we do.” - -“Well,” said he, laughing, with a little Embarrassment, “perhaps -Mistress _Glossop_ will take me into Partnership. I’m a Favourite in -that Quarter.” - -“Mistress _Glossop_! Oh, _Mark_!” - -“Nay, _Cherry_, don’t you see, if old Master _Armytage_ takes a Fancy to -me, he may make it worth her while to do so, for the Sake of his ‘sweet -_Wi-let_’?” - -“Ah, _Mark_, Master _Armytage_ is himself in a very small Way of -Business—nothing at all to compare with Mistress _Glossop’s_. _We_ love -and esteem them for old Acquaintance sake, but she looks quite down upon -them. There are so many small Haberdashers on the Bridge!” - -“Well, the smaller he is, the less Reason he will have to look down upon -me. I suppose you don’t mean to say, _Cherry_, that no young Man thinks -of Marriage unless he is better off than I am?” - -“So far from it, _Mark_, that I cannot see what Right the _Armytages_ -have to expect a better Match for their Daughter; and therefore I think -it a Pity there should be any Concealment.” - -“Marry come up!” cries he, “I would rather draw a Double-tooth for a -fiery Dragon than tell Master _Armytage_ I was Suitor for his sweet -_Wi-let_!” - -“Why, you will have to tell him sooner or later,” said I. - -“Not ... not if we wait till he dies,” said _Mark_. - -“_Dies!_ oh, _Mark_!”—— - -“It’s ill, reckoning on dead Men’s Shoes, I own,” said he, looking -rather ashamed. - -“It’s unfeeling and indelicate in the highest Degree,” said I. “Why -should not _Violet_ tell her Father?” - -“Ah, _Cherry_, she will not; and what’s more, she has made me solemnly -promise that _I_ will not, at present; so you see there’s no more to be -said. We must just go on, hoping and waiting, as many young Couples have -done before us; knowing that we love one another—and is not that, for a -While at least, enough?” - -I faintly said, “Yes.” - -“You don’t speak so heartily, though, as I thought you would,” said he. -“Don’t you sympathize with us, _Cherry_?” - -I looked up at him with a Smile, though my Lip quivered, and said -fervently, “Oh, yes!” - -“That’s right!” said he gladly. “Now I shall feel that, whether Things -go rough or smooth with me, you take cordial Part in them. GOD bless -you, _Cherry_! And if ever I’m in any little Difficulty with _Violet_, I -shall come to you for Advice and Help, rely upon it!—Hark, there is your -Mother’s Bell.” - -I ran off, glad to leave him; and found my Mother coughing, and in want -of some Water. When she had recovered herself, and composed herself -again to Sleep, I sat by her Casement, looking out on the same Scene I -had been gazing on an Hour before; but oh! with what different Feelings! - -The Trouble of my Soul taught me how much I had cared for him, what -Expectations I had nourished of him, what Disappointment I felt in him. -All was changed, all was shivered: never to be built up again! And yet -no one knew what Hopes were wrecked within me.—The World was going on -just the same! - -I thought how kind my Father and Mother had been to him, and how likely -it was they had hoped he would marry me, and how certainly, in that -case, my Father would have shared his Business with him. - -I thought how dull and forlorn a Place the World would now seem to me, -but resolved they should never know it. I would go on, in all Respects, -just the same. - -Large Tears were flowing unrestrained down my Cheeks, when Master -_Blower’s_ Bell, having been once rung already, was now pulled again -with some Impatience; and as _Dolly_ had stepped out, I answered it -myself, and found he wanted his Supper, which he took at no particular -Time, but just whenever he was inclined to lay aside his Reading or -Writing. I might have spread the Table for him nineteen Times out of -twenty, without his ever looking at me; however, on this Occasion he -happened to have nothing better to do, and observed I was in trouble. - -“Child,” said he, “is thy Mother worse?” - -“No, Sir, I humbly thank you.” - -“Then,” says he, “Something else has happened to grieve thee, for thine -Eyes are red with weeping. What is it?” - -But I could not tell him. - -“Well,” said he, after a Pause, “young Girls may have their Griefs that -they don’t care to tell about.—Man is born to Trouble, as the Sparks fly -upward. And sometimes those Griefs we show least, we feel most. But -remember, my good Girl, (for a good Girl, _Cherry_, thou art!) that -there is One to whom we may always carry our Burthens; One who can ease -them, too, either by giving us Strength to bear them, or by removing -them altogether.—Go pray, my Child, go pray!” - -And I did as he bade me, and found Balm for a bleeding Heart. He was a -good and wise Man, was Master _Blower_. - -When my Mother awoke, she said, “_Cherry_, I don’t know what has come -over me, but I feel a Peace and a Quiet past expressing ... I should not -wonder if you have been praying for me, my Child.” - -I pressed her Hand and said, “Yes, Mother, I have ... and for myself -too.” - -“This Illness of mine may be a Blessing in Disguise to us both,” said -she after a Pause—“it has taught me your Value, _Cherry_.” - -“What a funny Story,” resumed she presently, quietly smiling, “might be -written by a clever Hand about a Person who always fancied herself -undervalued! ‘_The Undervalued Woman!_’—There are a good many such in -the World, I fancy; poor Things, it seems no Joke to _them_. People who -have that Impression of themselves generally take such silly Methods to -prevent their being overlooked! They had better make themselves of real -Importance, by being useful and thoughtful for others. They had better -take Pattern by _you_, _Cherry_!” - -How dear, a Mother’s Praise! Especially when so seldom bestowed! - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - _Chelsea Buns_ - - -VIOLET seemed afraid (and yet why should she be?) to come near me, after -_Mark’s_ Communication; and, as my dear Mother could ill spare me, I -kept close House. We now felt the Blessing of having a discreet and -godly Minister for our Inmate; for Master _Blower_ read and prayed much -with my Mother, and comforted her greatly by his Discoursings. I -likewise derived Benefit from the good Seed he scattered, which fell, as -it were, into Ground much softened by heavy Rain. - -When I was able and inclined to step across to _Violet_, I found only -Master _Armytage_ in the Shop; who said to me with some Shortness, “You -will find my Daughters within,—I wish your Father would find Something -more profitable for your Cousin to do, than to be always in our Parlour, -a-hindering of Business.” - -I knew _Mark_ was not there just then, at any Rate, having left him at -Home; and, stepping into Master _Armytage’s_ Back-room, I only found -there a pale, gentle-looking Girl, with large, brown Eyes, diligently -putting Shop-marks to a Box of new Ribbons. I knew her for _Kitty_, -though her return Home was News to me; and, having not much to say to a -Stranger, I asked her how she liked the _Bridge_. She said, “Not at all; -I have been used to look upon Trees and Fields, and miss the Green; the -Noises make my Head ache, and my Mother keeps me so close to my Work, -that I pine for fresh Air.” I said, “Sure there is enough of it blowing -through that open Window from the River!” - -“Do you call it fresh?” said she, rather contemptuously. “I do not, I -can tell you! Instead of being scented with Cows’ Breath and new-mown -Hay, it comes from Tan-yards and Butchers’ Shops.” - -When _Violet_ came in, she blushed very red, but we only spoke of -indifferent Subjects: and, strange as it was of two such close -Intimates, we never, from that Time forward, had any closer -Communication. Perhaps it was her Fault, perhaps it was mine: or -perhaps, no Fault of either, but a just and becoming Sense of what was -best for two modest Girls in our new Relation. For, though it needed not -to be supposed that she knew Anything of what was passing in my Mind, I -am persuaded that she did. - -And thus the Families fell apart; and _Mark_ never renewed his -Confidences to me after that first Evening; and, if he had Moments of -keen Pleasure now and then, I am persuaded he had Hours of Pain he had -never known before. For _Violet_ was capricious and coquettish, and -sometimes would vex him by being unreasonable and hard to please: at -other Times, by laying herself out to please others, as Master -_Braidfoot_, and their Lodger Master _Clarke_. And though she gave out -to _Mark_ that this was only for a Feint, to draw off the Attention of -her Father and Mother from himself, yet sometimes it was certainly with -no other Purpose than to plague him, and at other Times, I fear, with no -better Purpose than to please herself; and I know it cost him many a -Tear. - -Poor _Mark_! how my Heart ached for him, and swelled against her, when I -found him one Evening with his Arms on the Table, and his Head on his -Arms, and saw, when he looked up, that he had been crying. He rose, and -looked out of Window, and said, “Has it done raining yet? I think I have -been asleep!” But I knew he had not. - -All his Money now went in fine Clothes for himself, and Presents for -her; so that if he needed a little Purse against his Marriage Day, he -was not going the Way to fill it. - -There was great Talk among the young People, about this Time, of an -Excursion up the River, to eat Buns and drink Whey at _Chelsea_. I was -invited to join them, but declined, on account of my Mother: but _Mark_ -was to go, and could think of Nothing else. I washed and starched his -Collar and Bands myself, and sewed a new Lace on his Hat. He wore a -plain silver-grey Cloth Suit, which was sober, but very becoming, for he -never affected strong Contrasts, like my Father. Knowing he was fond of -a Flower in his Button-hole, but was pressed for Time to get one, I gave -a little Girl a Penny to run down to the Market for the best Moss-rose -she could buy, and gave it him myself. He thanked me most pleasantly for -it, and looked so comely and cheerful, that when he went forth, I could -not help standing just behind the Window-blind, to look after him, and -to see the gay Party set out from Master _Armytage’s_. First, a Boy was -sent forward, with a great Basket full of Veal-pies and other Dainties; -then came out Master _Armytage_, with Mistress _Glossop_, who had -condescended to join the Party, and wore a peach-blossom Silk, with -pea-green Ribbons. Then Mistress _Armytage_, with a little Basket -covered up, no Doubt containing Something very precious; and _Hugh -Braidfoot_ by himself, with his Hands in his Pockets, as if he expected -to be asked to carry it, and did not mean to offer, walking a little in -Advance of her; then _Violet_, looking sweet! between _Mark_ and Master -_Clarke_—(I know she liked having two better than one, whatever might be -her Value for either;) and then _Kitty_, who by Rights should have had -one or other of them, slowly following with Master and Mistress -_Benskin_. I observed her to be a very little lame, but Nothing to speak -of. - -[Illustration] - -Well! the Day was fine, the Water looked lovely, there was Nothing to -prevent their having a most charming Party of Pleasure, unless it were -their own Fault. I thought of them many Times, as I sat quietly weaving -Hair at my Mother’s Bedside; and fancied them floating on the River, -landing under tall Trees, rambling among Meadows, sitting on the Grass, -eating and drinking in the Shade, and scattering in small Parties. I -fancied what I should do and feel if I were _Violet_, and how _Mark_ -would comport himself, and what he would say: but, when I looked on my -Mother’s pain-worn Face, I did not wish to change Places. - -They did not come Home till very late; much too late. I had persuaded my -Father to go to Bed, and let me sit up for _Mark_, for Fear of -disturbing my Mother. He said _Dolly_ might as well sit up too; however, -she proved heavy to sleep, so I sent her to Bed. - -[Illustration: - - And looked on the Bridge -] - -Then I sat at my Window, which was over Master _Blower’s_ Sitting-room, -and looked out on the _Bridge_. The Harvest-moon, brightly shining, made -our Side of the Way as light as Day, but Master _Armytage’s_ Side was in -deep Shade. I heard _St. Magnus’s_ Clock, and _St. Paul’s_, and _St. -Mary Overy’s_, strike Eleven. Then I saw some dark Figures coming along -in the Shade, and stop at Master _Armytage’s_ Door, and knock up the -Maid, who, after long Delay, came sleepily to the Door with a Candle. -Then the others, who had been talking, but not much, like People who -were very tired after too long a Day’s Pleasure, said “Good-night;” and -I saw _Hugh Braidfoot_ shake Hands with the Girl on his Arm, and step -across to his own Door in the broad Moonshine. Master and Mistress -_Benskin_ had gone Home before, and let themselves in with the -House-key. I counted those that entered Master _Armytage’s_, and only -made out his own Family. _Mark_ had doubtless seen Mistress _Glossop_ to -her own Door, as was right and fitting. For him, then, I must expect to -wait a good While longer: and I _did_ wait a good While; till all the -Clocks struck Twelve. Just as they had done striking, I heard and knew -his Step, and opened the Door without his knocking. - -“Have you had a pleasant Day?” said I. - -I looked at him as I spoke, and shall never forget his Face! - -—“Good-night,” said he shortly; “we’ll talk it over to-morrow,”— - -And impatiently took from my Hands his Candle, which I was trying to -light for him at mine. But it had been snuffed too short, and would not -light as readily as he wished; which made him curse it in a low, deep -Voice. I had never heard him swear before. - -“_Mark_,” said I, looking anxiously at him, “you are ill.” - -“No, I’m not,” said he abruptly; “Good-night. Thank you for sitting up -for me.” - -“I’m not at all tired,” said I, “and there’s some Supper for you in the -Kitchen. Let us go there, and have a little Chat over the Pleasures of -the Day—you don’t look sleepy.” - -From white he turned to deep red. - -“The Day has not been so pleasant as you suppose,” said he huskily; “you -have been better and happier at your Mother’s Bedside. I wish there were -more such as you in the World. Good-night, dear, good _Cherry_!” - -—And sprang up Stairs without another Word, taking two Steps at a Time. -I went to Bed, but not to sleep; I could not get his strange Look and -Manner out of my Head. - -The next Morning, at Breakfast-time, _Mark_ did not appear. _Dolly_ said -he had gone out early. My Father was angry, and sent across the Way for -him, knowing he was but too often at Master _Armytage’s_. But _Dolly_ -brought back Word they had seen Nothing of him. Then we concluded he had -gone for an early Walk, as was often his Custom, and had outstayed his -Time. However, we breakfasted without him at length, and still he did -not come back. - -“Confound that Boy,” said my patient Father at last—(thus, the Fault of -one Party provoked the Sin of another,)—“it’s plaguy tiresome of him to -be playing Truant this Morning, of all Days in the Year, for I have -pressing Business in _Eastcheap_.” - -“Leave me in Charge of the Shop, _Father_,” said I,—“my Mother’s Cough -is quiet, now she is dozing; and I shall hear her Bell.” - -“Well, I suppose I must,” said he very reluctantly; “but I shall trounce -Master _Mark_ well for his Conduct when I see him next, he may rely upon -it!” - -So he left me in Charge; and my loved Mother being in a Kind of -lethargic Slumber, which often lasted many Hours, I left the Doors open -between us, and sat in the Shop. As Fate would have it, not a single -Customer looked in the whole Time my Father was away; which was lucky, -though we did not feel very thankful, in usual, for this Falling-off in -Business. Before he returned, _Mark_ came in, and beckoned me into the -Parlour. - -“What is the Matter?” said I, with a violently beating Heart. - -“I’ve done it!” said he breathlessly. - -“Done what?” said I. - -“Married!” said he: and hid his Face in his Hands. - -“Dear _Mark_, how imprudent!” I exclaimed affectionately; “what _will_ -the _Armytages_ say?” - -“What will they, _indeed_!” repeated he, “_Violet_ especially! She drove -me to it!” - -“_Violet?_ _Drove_ you to marry her?” I cried.—It sounded so strange! - -“Oh, _Cherry_! what _will_ you say? It makes me shudder to tell you!” he -rapidly said; “Nothing but that Girl’s incorrigible Coquetry could have -made me break with her as I did; and then Reproaches led to Taunts, and -Taunts to Threatenings, till bad led to worse, and she twitted me with -my Poverty, and I told her I could be a richer Man in twenty-four Hours -than her Father, and look down upon them all, and she dared me to it, -and said a better Man than me was waiting for her, and so—Temptation to -be revenged on her came in my Way, and—I’ve married Mistress _Glossop_!” - -“Oh, _Mark_!” - -—“Nay, _Cherry_, don’t give way so,” said he, beginning to shed Tears -himself when he saw me weeping bitterly,—“Love is not a Man’s whole -Life, and what I’ve tasted of it hasn’t made me very happy. I’ve stepped -into a famous Business, and I shall have a quiet Fireside, and a capital -Table, and kind Looks if not pretty ones, and—a done Thing can’t be -undone: so there’s an End on’t!” - -Then, fancying he heard my Father’s Step, though ’twas only Master -_Blower’s_, he hastily exclaimed, “You must tell my Uncle—Good-bye, -_Cherry_!” and hurried out of the House. - -When he was gone, I sat in a Kind of Stupor.... _Married?_ and to such a -Wife!—How _could_ he?—how could _she_? ... and this increased my -Amazement, for he had been beside himself with Anger and Jealousy, and -hardly knew what he was doing,—but that she, cool, collected, and at her -Time of Life, could have closed with his Proposals without the Delay of -a single Day!—how disgusting!—Ah, she was afraid of losing him! - -—Immersed in these sad Thoughts, with my Hands clasped on my Lap, I was -unaware of my Father’s Return till he stood before me. I started. - -“Has _Mark_ returned?” cried he. - -“He came back, and is again gone,” said I. - -“The young Rascal!” exclaimed my Father very passionately; “what does he -mean by this outrageous Conduct? I’ve a great Mind to lock the Door -against him when he comes back!” - -“_Father_, he will never come back!—He is married! ... married to -Mistress _Glossop_.” - -And, trying to speak composedly, all would not do; the Tears rained from -my Eyes. - -My Father remained perfectly mute. I could understand his Amazement, his -Vexation, by my own; accompanied, as I knew it must be in his Case, by -great Anger. I expected every Moment to hear some violent Expression of -Indignation: he had been so unusually displeased with him already for -what was comparatively a Trifle. - -All at once, I found myself folded in his Arms. He did not say a Word; -but the longer he held me, the more and more I felt that his Hopes for -me had been ruined as well as mine, that his Schemes and Visions of the -Future were all dispersed and overclouded, that he knew Something of -what was passing within me, and felt Sympathy without having the Power -of expressing it. - -“Well,—” said he, releasing me at last,—and I saw that his Eyes were -wet,—“Man proposes, but GOD disposes. We’ve had an Escape from this -young Man. Ungrateful young Fellow! And blind to his own Interest, too, -for I could have done better for him, _Cherry_, than he knows of. But—he -deserves his Fate. A miserable one it will be! He’ll never prosper!” - -“Oh, _Father!_ don’t prophesy against him! We need not wish him ill.” - -“I don’t wish him ill,” returned he, “but he’ll come to no Good. He has -done for himself in this Marriage. And so, _Cherry_, you’ll see!” - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER V - - _A Shadow on the House_ - - -OH! how dreary now seemed the House! Its Light and its Life were gone. The -unseen Presence of Love no longer gladdened it, and the Shadow of Death -was slowly creeping on. - -_Violet_ came to pour out her Wretchedness and her Self-reproaches to me -as soon as she heard what had happened. She declared she could never be -happy again—she could never cease thinking of him. I told her it would -be very wicked of her now, to think of him in the Way she meant, any -more. For saying which, I suppose she was offended at me; for she did -not come near me again for a good While. - -I don’t suppose Tears are often shed over thick Slices of Bride-cake, -with Sugar and Almonds an Inch deep, such as _Violet_ and I received -(tied up with such vulgar white Satin Knots!) from Mistress _Glossop_, -now, alas! Mistress _Blenkinsop_. When I took it up to my Mother, she -turned away her Head, and said with her gentle Smile, “You may give my -Share to _Dolly_,—perhaps she will like it to dream upon.” - -I said, “I don’t believe _Dolly_ will touch it;” however, there I was -mistaken. She said, “Law, Mistress _Cherry_, I’m sure Mistress is very -good.... I grudge the eating of it, too; for ’tis an unseemly Match, I -calls it; but, there,—one don’t get such Cake as this every Day!” - -When I repeated this Saying to my Mother, she said, “She belongs to the -_Glossop_ School, _Cherry_, that _never can forbear_.” - -Mistress _Blenkinsop_ would have been glad, I fancy, to show off her -young Husband on the _Bridge_; but she received no Encouragement; and as -for _Mark_, who had certainly intended to pique _Violet_, he was now as -wretched as herself, to judge from his Looks, as reported to us by one -or two who had seen Something of what was going on. Happy or unhappy, he -never came near us, on Business or Pleasure; and as my Father dropped -the Connexion, which was more to his Loss than Mistress _Blenkinsop’s_, -we now saw Nothing of one another. For I scarce went out at all; but now -and then Mistress _Benskin_ would let fall how she had met the -_Blenkinsops_ going to such and such a Place of Public Resort; he -looking ashamed and tired of his Companion; and she as fine as the -Rainbow. For she would not only see _Funamble Turk_, and pay her -Shilling to ride round _Hyde Park_, but intrude herself among the -Quality in _Mulberry Garden_, I warrant her! - -About this Time Master _Armytage_ died. Thereby his Family sustained -great Loss, not only of a kind Husband and Father, but of worldly Goods; -for the Widow only got a Third of the Worth of the Business, and the -Son, who was married and not very friendly with her, choosing to live on -the Premises and carry on the Concern, she and her Daughters presently -went into an exceeding small House in the _Borough_, where they opened a -little Shop that did not answer very well. After a While, _Violet_, -unused to such scant Living, was glad to come back as Shopwoman to her -Brother, whose Wife had no Turn for Business; but it went sore against -her to be Second in the House where she had hitherto been always treated -like First; and also it was a Grievance to her to live among a Family of -young Children. These Trials fretted her till they impaired her Beauty, -making her grow peevish and thin. - -Meantime, her younger Sister took Plain-work when she could get it; and -the _Benskins_ and _Hugh Braidfoot_ supplied her with what they could, -which she accepted gratefully; though, in her Father’s Life-time, it -would have quite affronted Mistress _Armytage_ that her Girls should set -a Stitch for either of them. But Times were altered now; she was unable -even to keep a Servant; and, one Day, when I looked in upon her, I -noticed so many little Symptoms of Poverty, that, on repeating them to -my Mother, she made me put up a Variety of little Presents for her, and -take them to her with her old Neighbour’s Love. - -[Illustration] - -When I reached her House, I found her on her Knees, scouring the -Door-step with such Zeal and Noise, that I could not at first make her -hear my Voice, or become sensible of my Presence. When she did, she did -not appear particularly glad to see me, but pulled her Pail out of my -Way, and said, “Oh!—You’ll find _Kitty_ within—_Kitty! Kitty!_” - -And just within the Door, sure enough, was _Kitty_ standing with her -Back to me, before Master _Braidfoot_, who was seated, with a fringed -Glove in his Hand, and holding forth to her very earnestly. He had sent -her a Box of Gloves to fringe, and I suppose she had not trimmed them to -his Mind, for she was hanging her Head, and looking very uncomfortable. -As soon as he saw me, he brought his Discourse to a Finish by saying, -“Of which, more anon;” and nodding a Good-bye to me, stepped over -Mistress _Armytage’s_ Pail, and walked off. Mistress _Armytage_ now came -in, taking off her Apron in a great Bustle; and seemingly much more glad -to see me than she had been just before. And she received my Mother’s -Presents in mighty good Part, especially the Brandy-cherries, which had -been put in quite as an After-thought, saying they would make a pretty -little Dish for Supper. I thought she and _Kitty_ had been more in the -Way of Bread-and-Cheese Suppers now, but made no Comment. Some People -would as soon die as not try to be thought genteel. - -When I had nearly reached Home, I saw _Mark_ coming along the Bridge, in -a hesitating, reluctant Sort of Way. When he saw me, he stepped out more -briskly, and came up, holding out his Hand. - -“_Cherry_,” said he, lowering his Voice, “my old Lady and I had almost a -Tiff this Morning, because she wanted you and my Uncle to come and eat -some of the first green Peas of the Season with us, and I told her I did -not think you would. But, will you?” - -“Thank you kindly,” said I, “but my Mother is so ill, we have no Heart -to go anywhere now.” - -“I knew it was so,” said he, looking relieved; “but you will not think -me unfeeling, I hope, for putting the Question?” - -“Oh no, I think it very kind of you,” said I; “I take it as I know it -was meant. Won’t you come in? We have seen nothing of you for a long -Time.” - -“Thank you, not just now,” said he; “good-bye.” And walked off as if he -were in a great Hurry. - -When I returned to my dear Mother, she said, “_Cherry_, I’m sure you -will be amused when I tell you what I have been dreaming about,—I -dreamed you were married!” - -I said, “Dear Mother, if you take to dreaming, and my Father to -presaging, there’ll be Nothing left to be surprised about!” - -“Ah, well,” said she, gently smiling, “but this was a very pretty, -pleasant Dream—You were married to a Person a good Deal older than -yourself, but very much to your own Mind, notwithstanding, and were -living like a Lady, with Everything genteel and comfortable about you.” - -I smiled to cover a Sigh; and kissing her thin Hand, said, “May you -live, dear Mother, to see it.” - -“No,” said she, “I know I shall not do that—my Time is growing very -short now; but yet I shall leave you in Peace, _Cherry_,—I am so certain -of your doing well. I don’t mean because of this foolish Dream.” - -“As for doing well,” said I, “GOD’S Blessing generally rests on the -Child of many Prayers, ... but if by doing well, you mean marrying well, -do you think that is the only Way I can be happy?” - -“No,” said she, after a Pause, “I do not. I think there is no other -Happiness equal to it, where the Parties are well assorted, and are good -to the Core; but much depends upon each other, and much upon themselves; -so much, that it had often been better for them they had never met.” - -“And as so few _are_ good to the Core,” said I, “perhaps the Balance of -Happiness may not lie on the Side you think.” - -“Perhaps not,” said she, “but every one hopes to be the -Exception.—However,” she added, after another Pause, “these Things are -not of our ordering; and whatever be the happier Lot, it is certain we -cannot secure it unless it be appointed us, whether for ourselves or for -those we dearly love. It may be GOD’S Will that you shall be _Cherry -Curling_ all your Days, in Spite of my Dream, and in Spite of your being -fitted for Happiness in another State; but that it is His Purpose to -make you happy _in yourself_, whatever you are, I feel as sure of as -that I see you now.” - -When I told her what Satisfaction the Brandy-cherries had given, she -smiled quietly, and said, “The same Woman, still!—You shall take her -some potted Salmon to-morrow.” - -I did so; but did not, this Time, find the Widow cleaning her Door-step. -She had gone to Market; the Shop was empty, and I walked through it into -the little Parlour beyond. Here I again came upon _Kitty_ and _Hugh -Braidfoot_: she was sitting this Time, and he standing, and, the Moment -she saw me, she snatched away her Hand from him, which he was holding, -and ran up Stairs. I felt very awkward, and was retreating without a -Word; but he, turning about upon me with a Sort of homely, manly -Dignity, a Mixture of Placid and Resolute in his Manner that I never saw -before, and which became him very well, held out his Hand to me, and -said, “You see, _Cherry_, how it is to be. There’ll soon be a Wedding in -this House. The old Lady has meant there should be, all along; but what -though? Shall a Man that knows his own Mind be stayed from it for Fear -of playing into a managing Woman’s Hands? Had the Widow been less eager, -the Thing might have been sooner brought about; however, you and I have -known her longer than Yesterday—she’s _Kitty’s_ Mother; and enough’s -said!” - -I wished him Joy, and said I thought he and _Kitty_ would be very happy -together. Then, setting down my Mother’s little Gift on the Table, I -turned to go away. “What’s that?” said he. “Only a little potted Salmon -for Mistress _Armytage_,” said I. “I’ll call _Kitty_ down,” said he; and -going to the Stair-foot, he called “_Kitty! Kitty!_” but she did not -answer; and giving me a knowing Smile, he said, “I don’t think she’ll -come down while we are both here.”—“I’m going,” said I; “but here comes -Mistress _Armytage_ from Market.” “Oh, then, I’m going too!” cried he, -laughing and catching up his Hat. “I’ve no Mind to break the News to the -Widow, so come your Ways, _Cherry_, we’ll walk to the _Bridge_ together; -don’t look behind you.”... “’Tis Pity o’ my Life,” continued he, -smiling, when we had walked a little Way together, “that respect her I -cannot; for you see, _Cherry_, a Man can never respect a Woman whom he -sees trying to draw him in! He may walk into her Trap with his Eyes -open, and let her save him some Trouble, but respect her or trust her, -is out of his Power. First, she wanted to have me for _Violet_: that -would not do—then, _Kitty_ was kept out of Sight till she found I would -not have the other; but as soon as she found I liked the youngest Sister -best, poor _Violet_ was put in the Shade, and _Kitty’s_ Turn came. ’Tis -ill to speak this Way of one’s Mother-in-Law elect; I hope she’ll breed -no Trouble between us when she’s Mother-in-Law in earnest; I should like -to pension the old Gentlewoman off, but that can’t well be; so we must -let her have the Run of the House, and try to make her comfortable as -long as she lets us be so.” - -Then, turning to a more agreeable Subject, he sang _Kitty’s_ Praises; -and, reaching his own Door, hoped she and I should be good Neighbours. -“Your Father and you must come to the Wedding-dinner,” said he; “we may -not have as many good Things as the _Blenkinsops_ had, but I fancy -’twill be a cheerfuller Dinner.” - -When I told my Mother the News, she took it very composedly, but I -observed her Eyelids give one little, involuntary Movement, that -betrayed more Surprise than she was willing to show. “Ah, my dear -Mother,” thought I, “another of your little Castles in the Air for me -has been thrown down, I fear. This was, no Doubt, the Hero of the Dream, -who was to make me so comfortable! What a lucky Thing that I care not a -Rush for him!” However, we never said a Word to one another on the -Subject. - -So the Wedding took place, and my Father and I were at the Dinner, which -consisted of every Nicety that Money could procure; for Mistress -_Armytage_ said that _Hugh Braidfoot_ should have all his favourite -Dishes, and she took Care to have her own, whether they corresponded or -not. So there was roast Pig and pickled Salmon, Calf’s Head and green -Goose, Lobster Salad and Marrow-bones, and more Sweets than I ever saw -out of a Pastry-cook’s Shop. As some Things were in Season and others -were not, the latter, though sweet in the Mouth, were bitter in -Digestion; I mean, to Master _Braidfoot_ when he came to pay the Bills. -And then Mistress _Armytage_, ashamed of having exceeded becoming -Limits, went about to several of the Tradesmen, who were _Hugh -Braidfoot’s_ personal Friends, and who already were displeased enough at -not having been invited to the Feast; and she incensed them the more by -trying to get them to lower their Bills, which they thought and called -excessive mean. Thereby, Mistress _Armytage_ got into bad Odour, and -_Kitty_ came in for her Share, and shed her first Tears after Marriage -upon it, which I wish had been her last. However, Master _Braidfoot_ -laughed the Matter off, in a jovial, careless Sort of a Way; and went -round himself and paid every one in full, and made Friends with them -with a few merry Sayings; so Peace was restored, that Time. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - _Metanoia_ - - -WHEN I see what a little Way the Solemnisation of Matrimony in the Common -Prayer Book lies from the Burial-service for the Dead, (only separated -by the Order for the Visitation of the Sick,) it makes me think how -sometimes in actual Life Marriages and Funerals seem to tread upon the -Heels of one another. Scarce were the Bills for Master _Braidfoot’s_ -Wedding-dinner paid, when my dear Mother, who had been fast but gently -sinking, departed this Life without a Sigh. I had left her much as usual -the Night before; but in the Morning was aware of a grey Shadow over her -Face, unlike Anything I had yet seen, and impossible to describe, that -made me sensible of the Presence of Death. My Father supported her in -his Arms, Master _Blower_ prayed aloud beside her, I bathed her Face -with Vinegar, and _Dolly_ ran for the Doctor; but just as he crossed our -Threshold, she gently breathed her last. - -How empty the House seemed! For, though a Person may take no active Part -in its Business, yet a Sense of their _Nearness_ is accompanied by a -constant Feeling of Companionship, such as I think we might feel with -regard to our HEAVENLY FATHER if we would look into the Fact of His -being constantly about us a little more narrowly. Excellent Master -_Blower_ was a Tower of Strength to us under this Bereavement; knowing -how to comfort a Man better than I could, and possessed of more Calmness -and Composedness than I could be expected to have, though he said his -Heart bled for us all the while. But he set before us the Blessedness of -my Mother in her glorified State so strongly, that it was impossible not -to feel that our Loss was her Gain. - -While the House was yet darkened, I heard a hushed Voice that had become -strange to my Ears of late, saying to my Father in the next Room, “I am -sure, Uncle, if you would look upon it as a Mark of Respect.” ... And my -Father, in Tears, made Answer to him, “I should, _Mark_, I should! I -shall be glad for you to accompany us to the Grave; for, indeed, my Boy, -she was very kindly affectioned towards you.” - -And then cried again; and, I think, _Mark_ cried too. It was Balm to my -Heart to think he was going to the Funeral. An ill-advised Deed had in -the first Instance banished him from us, and, in Time, he had not only -become reconciled to his Banishment, but, from what I made out of the -Report of others, had learnt to rejoice in it. The first Signal of a -better Frame was his _returning_ to us, which cost him an Effort, and -then _repaid itself_. Master _Blower_ called it _Metanoia_, whatever -that meant. - -_Violet_ was very kind to me. All her old Affection for me now returned; -and she would bring her Work and sit with me for Hours. Also the -_Benskins_ and _Braidfoots_ were kind in their Way, though after a -homely Fashion. But one that better understood comforting was nearer at -Hand. One Evening, I heard Master _Blower_, as he met my Father on the -Stairs, say, “Why, old Friend, we have lived many a Year under the same -Roof, and have never broken Bread together yet! Bring _Cherry_ with you, -and sup with me to-night!” - -My disconsolate Father, being taken by Surprise, had no Power to refuse -the Honour; _Dolly_ was sent for a Crab, and we spent a very peaceful -and pleasant Evening together, not ended without Prayer. As we left, the -kind Man said, “Well, Friend, since you won’t ask me, I’ll ask myself to -sup to-morrow Night with _you_.” And so he did; and many a rich and -learned Man might have envied us the discreet and pleasant Guest that -honoured our poor Table. From that Time, we thus spent two Evenings -together every Week. - -By this Time my Friend _Kitty_ had taken upon her all the Importance of -a well-to-do Tradesman’s Wife, which fitted her as well as one of her -Husband’s best Pair of Gloves. Instead of Stuff and Dimity, flowered -Chintz and even Silk was now the Wear! looped well up, too, to shew the -grass-green quilted Petticoat and clocked Stockings. Nothing, Master -_Braidfoot_ thought, was too good for her. And instead of its being -“good Husband,” “honoured Master _Braidfoot_,” so bashfully spoken, as -at first, now it was “dear _Hugh_,” “sweet _Hugh_,” or “_Hugh_” by -itself alone. And happy, without a Cloud, would the Lives of this worthy -Couple have been but for the Hinderances of Mistress _Armytage_. Now it -was her Parsimony in Something her Son-in-Law could well afford and -desired to have; now her Expensiveness in Something for which she dared -not give him the Bill; and then he would find it out, and rate her, half -in Sport, and then she would take Offence in right Earnest. Then _Kitty_ -would cry, and then her Mother would say she knew she was only in the -Way, and would go off for a While to her old Quarters. When she got -there, her Tongue lay not still, like a good House-dog in its Kennel, -but must needs yap, yap, like a little Terrier, that flies at every -Comer; and, to every Neighbour along the _Borough_ it was, “Oh, you know -not what a _Turk_...!”—“My poor, poor Daughter!”—“Temper of an -Angel!”—“Will wear her out at last!”—“Never know a Man before he’s -married!”—“Peace and Poverty for my Money” ... and such-like. - -Meanwhile, _Hugh_ and _Kitty_ were as merry as Crickets in their own -Chimney-corner, little guessing or caring what an ill Report of their -Fireside was spreading all along _Southwark_: and if _Hugh_ met e’er a -Neighbour’s Wife that gave him a dark Look, as much as to say, “Ah! for -all your blythe Face, I know what I know!” all he did was to cry, -“Neighbour, how do you do?” in a jovial Voice that rang along the -Street. Thus the Husband and Wife would go on, mighty comfortable by -themselves, till some favourite Dish, perhaps, of Mistress _Armytage’s_ -would be set on Table, and _Kitty_, with a Tear in her Eye, would say, -“Poor, dear Mother is so fond of a roast Pig.” “Set it down before the -Fire again, then,” says _Hugh_, “while I run and fetch the old -Gentlewoman.... I’ll be back in five Minutes.”—And, in about a Quarter -of an Hour, sure enough, he would return with the Widow on his Arm, and -there would be a little kissing and crying, and then all would sit down -in high Good-humour with one another, and Things would go on quietly -till _Hugh_ and his Mother-in-Law quarrelled again. - -About this Time, dear, good Master _Blower_, who had hitherto led a -removed Life among us, hidden and yet known, ministering and being -ministered unto by many of his old Flock on the Sly, did by some -Indiscretion or Misadventure provoke the Notice of the Powers then -riding paramount, and, coming Home to us in great Perturbation one Day, -told us he must at once take Ship to _Holland_ in a Vessel going down -the River the next Morning. This was greatly to the Sorrow of my Father -and myself; and some Tears of mine fell on his little Packet of clean -Linen as I made it up for him; and I thought it no Wrong to slip into -the easy Slippers I knew he would not fail to take out at the Journey’s -End, a little Purse with seven Gold _Caroluses_ in it, that I had long -been hoarding for some good Use. The Wind was light, but yet fair: there -was a Remedy against Sea-sickness in my Father’s Shop-window that I had -not much Faith in, it had lain so long in the Sun, even supposing there -ever were any Virtue in it; however, I thought there could be no Harm in -just sewing it in the Lining of his Coat, according to the Directions -printed ... at least, so I thought at the Time, but afterwards I -observed I had made a Mistake, but it did no Harm, if no Good. And -Father gave him a Bottle of _Cognac_ Brandy, which really _had_ some -Virtue in it, so we did for him what we could, one Way or another. And -he packed up what few Papers he could carry, and burned others, and -locked up the rest, leaving them and his Books in my Charge, with his -Blessing. And so the good Man went. - -[Illustration] - -Often afterwards, when I was setting his Rooms in Order, and dusting his -Books, I would stand, with my Duster in my Hand, looking at the Table at -which he used to write, and the old Arm-chair in which he used to sit, -and fall into a Kind of Muse, till I almost seemed to see his large, -quiet, brown Eyes, that were set so far under the Shadow of his Brows, -and seemed lighted up, somehow, from within, looking up at me, and his -pleasant Face smiling at me, (he had a very sweet Smile, had Master -_Blower_,) and his pleasant Voice saying, “Well, _Cherry_, is it -Eating-time again, already?” - -Now and then I would open one or other of his Books, and, if I chanced -upon Anything I understood and that interested me, would stand reading -on and on, till I was startled by hearing my Father call for me. At -length, he knew where to look for me; and took to laughing at me for -taking such a Turn for Study; but one Day he fell to reading one of -Master _Blower’s_ Books himself, and liked it so well, that, we being -but quiet Companions for one another, now there was so little to say, we -spent many an Hour, sitting over-against each other, each with our Book. - -One Day, as I sat sewing in the Parlour, and my Father was cutting a -Man’s Hair, I heard his Customer say, “My _Lord Protector’s_ very ill, -and like to die.” - -“Don’t believe it,” said my Father; “_he’ll_ never die in his Bed.” -Which, for once, was a Presage that did not come true. - -“Well, he seems to think so too,” said the other; “at all Events he’s -having Thanks put up for his Recovery, while yet he’s as bad as can be; -which looks premature.” - -“That’s the Faith of _Assurance_, I call it,” said my Father dryly. -“Well, now, what may be the Matter with his Grace?—a Pain in his Heart, -or his Head, or what?” - -“A tertian Fever, they say,” returned his Companion; “you know his -favourite Daughter died scarce a Month back, and, in her last Moments, -she told him many a Thing that no one had had Courage to tell him -before, and expostulated with him on his Ways, and charged him with -slaying the LORD’S Anointed; which, ’tis thought, he took so much to -Heart as that his troubled Mind invited if it did not occasion this -Illness.” - -“Well,” said my Father, “I’d rather be the dead King than the dying -Protector. What has become now of all his Trust in the LORD, and inward -Assurance? Does the Grandeur he has earned with so much Guilt, smooth -his sick Pillow? Is the death he so boldly confronted on the Battlefield -quite so easy to face, now he lies quiet and watchful all Night, with -his Silk Curtains drawn about him? Does he feel as secure of being one -of the Elect, unable to fall into final Reprobation, as when he was -fighting his Way up to a dead Man’s Chair? Ah, Sir, we may ask one -another these Questions, but our own Hearts must give their only -Answer.” - -In Fact, _Oliver Cromwell_ presently breathed his last, amidst a Tempest -of Wind and Rain, that seemed a Type of his own tempestuous Character. -And in his Place was set up one that did not fill it: his quiet and -peaceable Son, _Richard_, who had gone on his Knees to his Father to -pray that the _King’s_ Head might not be cut off. He was gentle, -generous, and humane; but those were no Recommendations in the Eyes of -the Army or Parliament, so he was presently set aside. Whereon ensued -such Squabblings and Heart-burnings, I was glad I was not a Man. - -One Day, _Mark_ came in, all flushed and eager, looking like his old -self; and “Uncle!” says he, “there’s a brave Time coming again for -Hairdressers! It’s my Fancy, Wigs will presently be in, (for Cavalier -Curls won’t grow in a Night!) and then you’ll have a Market for that Lot -of Hair that you and I put so carefully aside.” - -“How so, _Mark_?” says my Father. - -“Why,” says _Mark_, “_honest George Monk_, as the Soldiers call him, is -marching up to _London_, and you have always said he was a Royalist in -his Heart.” - -“Heaven defend us from Siege and civil War,” says Father; “we’ve had too -much of them already. Better one Master than many, even such a Master as -old _Noll_; and if General _Monk_ is coming up to seat himself in his -Place, ’twill be better for us than these City Tumults, wherein a Parcel -of young ’Prentices that deserve a good Threshing, get together and -clamour for Things they know not, till grown Men are forced to put them -down with a strong Hand. _Where there’s Order, there’s Liberty_; and -Nowhere else.” - -_Mark’s_ News proved true; the disaffected Regiments were sent out of -_London_, and General _Monk_ with his Army entered _Westminster_. He was -a right-judging as well as right-meaning Man, on the whole, to my Mind, -prudent and moderate, though he sided first with one Party, then with -the other, then back to the first again. One of the evil Consequences of -our evil Times was, so many conscientious Men were set down for -obstinate and pig-headed, or else Turn-coats. My Father, to represent -the Humour of the Time, had removed the obnoxious Cavalier and Puritan -from his Window, and set up in their stead a Head that united half of -both, which, revolving slowly when he pulled a String, shewed now one -Side, now the other, and, as he observed, never looked so bad as when -you saw a little of both. But as soon as _Monk_, throwing off his late -Shew of Moderation, marched into the City, removed the Posts and Chains -across the Streets, seized on obnoxious Persons, and broke down our -Gates and Portcullises, my Father became sure that a great Change was at -Hand, and the _King_ would enjoy his own again. Whereon, he commenced -beautifying and renewing the waxen Cavalier, which had got a little -fly-spitten, and privately smuggled into the House a most beautiful -female Counterpart for it, extremely like _Queen Henrietta Maria_, whom -I immediately set about dressing in the favourite Style of her Majesty, -that is to say, in a rich velvet Boddice, with a falling Collar of -Cutwork, Vandyked at the Edge, relieved by a blue Breast-knot. My Father -dressed her Hair in long, drooping, dark Curls, with a few pearl Pins; -and, abiding the right Time with Calmness and Confidence, shut up the -comely Pair in a dark Closet till the happy Moment for their bursting -upon the World should arrive. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - _Signs in the Air_ - - -AND now the glorious Restoration at length arrived, and ’tis incredible what -a Spur it was to Trade, and how the Mercers and Drapers could hardly -supply their Customers fast enough with expensive Goods; and how the -Tailors and Sempstresses worked all Night, and Hairdressers sold their -Ellwigs, and Hatters their Hats, and Horse-dealers their Horses good and -bad. For every one was for pouring out of _London_, across our Bridge, -at least as far as _Blackheath_. Oh! what a busy, what a joyous Sight it -was! All the Streets from the _Bridge_ to _Whitehall_ were hung with -Tapestry, and the Windows filled with Ladies. The _Lord Mayor’s_ Cooks -set up a gay Tent in _St. George’s_ Fields, to prepare a Refection for -his Majesty. The Livery Companies in their various rich Dresses of -Crimson, Violet, Purple, and Scarlet, lined the Streets on one Side, and -the Trained Bands on the other: Bursts of gay Music were intermingled -with Cheers and Laughter; Everybody seemed in tip-top Spirits that the -_King_ was coming. We let our Windows for a good Premium to some of the -Grandees; but had a good View ourselves of what was going on, from the -Leads—now there would come along a Troop of two or three Hundred or -more, in Cloth of Silver Doublets; then four or five Times as many in -Velvet Coats, with Attendants in Purple; then another Party in Buff -Coats with Cloth of Silver Sleeves and green Scarfs, others in pale Blue -and Silver, others in Scarlet: by and by, six Hundred of the Livery on -Horseback, in black Velvet with Gold Chains, then the Trumpeters, Waits, -City Officers, Sheriffs, and _Lord Mayor_ ... in short, there was no End -to the Splendour and Glory of that Day; for we had hardly rested -ourselves after seeing them all go forth, when they began to come back, -with the _King_ in the midst. Oh! what Shouts! what Cheers! what Bursts -of Music! And he, bowing this Side and that, so smiling and gracious! -“It seemed,” he said, “as if it must have been his own Fault he came not -sooner back, Everyone appeared so glad to see him!” - -[Illustration] - -But the Ladies’ Dresses!—Oh, how grieved I was!—Sure, they were resolved -to make up for the Dulness and Decorum they had been restricted to -during the Protectorate; for, indeed, they seemed to think Decorum and -Dulness went together, and should now be thrown overboard in Company. -The _Henrietta Maria_ Dress I had so complacently made up for our Wax -Doll, was now twenty Years behind the Fashion! fit only to laugh at!—and -what had taken its Place, I thought fit only to blush at. - -For a Moment, when the Party that had hired our first-floor Window had -thrown off their Clokes, I felt a dreadful Presentiment that their -Characters could not be over-good; or else, thought I, they never could -dress in such a Manner. Only, knowing who they were, I thought again, -_that_ can never be—dear Heart! what can they be thinking of? we shall -have Stones and Mud thrown up at the Window. “Sure, Madam,” said I to -the youngest and prettiest, “you will catch Cold at the open Window ... -the Wind blows in very fresh from the River—will you just have this -Scarf a little over your Shoulders?” “No, thank you,” says she, shaking -back quite a Bush of fair Hair, and looking up at me with her Eyes half -shut, as if she were sleepy already. “Forsooth,” thought I, “those Curls -are equal to a Fur Tippet”—And, looking across at our Neighbours’ -Windows, I saw we need not fear pelting, for that all the other Ladies -were dressed just the same. Then thought I, Oh, this is the -_Restoration_, is it? If you, fair Ladies, provoke ill Thoughts of you, -you must not feel aggrieved if People think not of you very well. - -I disliked this Symptom of the Restoration from the very first—not that -it had, naturally, any Connexion with it.—The _King_ had lived long -abroad, had become fond of foreign Fashions; but were the modest Ladies -of _England_, therefore, to give in to them? Then, what the upper -Classes affect, the lower Classes soon ape: I knew we should presently -have Mistress _Blenkinsop_ and _Violet_ trying which could wear the -longest Curls and shortest Petticoats, and look the most languishing. -The only Difference would be, that the one would become the Fashion, and -the other make it ridiculous. Perhaps, thought I, I am growing prudish -and old-maidish, I am Eight and Twenty; but so is _Violet_. - -I have often thought, that if the Ladies of _England_ had at this Time -been what they ought, a good Deal of Folly and Sin that presently -stained this Reign would never have happened. What! could the merry -Glance and free Word of a light young Monarch break down Barriers that -were not tottering already? What had Mothers and Teachers been about? -Where were the Lady _Fanshawes_ and _Lucy Hutchinsons_? There must have -been Something wrong in the Bringing-up—I can never believe all these -fair young Ladies were so good one Day and so bad the next. - -But the joyfullest Event, to ourselves, on that glorious Twenty-ninth of -_May_, was the Restoration to his Country and Home of our excellent -Friend and Lodger, Master _Blower_. He seemed to be rejuvenized by the -general Spirit of Hilariousness; for I protest it seemed as though ten -Years were taken off his Shoulders. And he talked of being soon replaced -in his Curacy; but, instead of that, his Friends presently got him a -Living in the City, which took him away from us, as there was a -Parsonage House. But we went to his Church on _Sundays_; and, as he was -not one of those who forget old Friends or humble ones, he would make my -Father and me sup with him about once a Quarter, and come to us of his -own Accord about as often, and talk over the Times, which in some -Respects, as far as Sabbath-keeping and general Morality went, we could -not say were bettered. - -And now a shocking Sight was to be seen at the _Bridge_ Gate,—the Heads, -namely, of those Traitors who brought about the Death of the late King, -and who richly deserved their bad End. There they have remained for many -a Year, a Terror to all Evil-doers. - -[Illustration: - - And now a shocking sight was to be seen at the Bridge Gate -] - -It was in the Spring following the Restoration, in the Month of _March_, -that we and the _Braidfoots_ were taking our Supper together on the -Leads, the Weather being very warm for the Season, when our Attention -was attracted by the uncommon Appearance of the Clouds, which, as will -often be the Case after much Rain, were exceeding gorgeous and -grotesque. Master _Braidfoot_ was the first of us who noticed them, and -cried, “See, see, Neighbours! Cannot you now credit how Lovers of the -Marvellous have oft-times set Tales afloat of Armies seen fighting in -the Air? Do not those two Battalions of Clouds, impelled by opposite -Currents, look like two great Armies with Spears and Banners, about to -encounter each other? Now they meet, now they fall together, now one -vanishes away! Now, they both are gone!” - -“And see, dear _Hugh_,” cries _Kitty_, “there’s another that looks like -a Cathedral; and another like an exceeding big Mountain, with a Rent in -its Side; and out of the Rent comes Something that looks like a -Crocodile, with its Jaws wide open; no! now it is liker to a Bull, or -rather to a Lion.” - -“Very like a Whale!” said a Man, as if to himself, on the Top of the -next House. It was Master _Benskin’s_ Lodger, who wrote for the -Booksellers. - -_Kitty_ started, and lowered her Voice; for we were not on speaking -Terms with him; however, she squeezed my Arm and said softly, “It really -_is_ becoming Something like a Whale now, though!” On which, Master -_Braidfoot_ burst into one of his ringing Laughs, and cried, “Why, -_Kitty_, you give it as many Faces as the Moon! What will you fancy it -next?” - -“I wonder what it means,” says she, very gravely. - -“Means?” said her Husband, still laughing; “why, it means we shall have -some more wet Weather. So we’ll put off our Pleasure Party. See what a -red Flame the setting Sun casts all along the City!” - -About a Week after this, our Neighbour, Master _Benskin_, gave my Father -a little Pamphlet of four Leaves, writ by his Lodger; the Title of which -was truly tremendous. It was this,— - - “_Strange News from the West! being a true and perfect Account - of several Miraculous Sights seen in the Air westward, on - Thursday last, by divers Persons of Credit, standing on London - Bridge between Seven and Eight of the Clock. Two great Armies - marching forth of two Clouds, and encountering each other; but, - after a sharp Dispute, they suddenly vanished. Also, some - remarkable Sights that were seen to issue forth of a Cloud that - seemed like a Mountain, in the Shapes of a Bull, a Bear, a Lyon, - and an Elephant with a Castle on his Back; and the Manner how - they all vanished._” - -“Well,” said my Father, turning the Leaf, “is it dedicated to Mistress -_Braidfoot_? Here seems to be much Ado about Nothing, I think.” - -“Nothing or Something,” said Master _Benskin_, laughing, and jingling -his Pockets, “it has enabled my Lodger to pay up seven Weeks’ Arrears; -so it’s an ill Wind that blows Nobody any Good. The Trifle has had a -Run, Sir!” - -“So this is the Way Books are made, and Stories are vamped up,” said my -Father. “Truly, it makes one serious.” - -But, a little Time after, a Rumour was repeated in the Shop that did -indeed make one serious, to wit, that the Plague was in _Holland_, and -would very likely come across to us. However, though the following Year -it did indeed rage very badly in _Amsterdam_ and _Rotterdam_, yet it -crossed not the Water for another twelve Months or more; and as we had -no such Things as printed Newspapers in those Days, such as I have lived -to see since, Reports did not instantly spread over the whole Nation as -they do now. - -Howbeit, at the latter End of _November_, 1664, there really were two -Cases of Plague in _Long Acre_, which frightened People a good deal. A -third Man afterwards died of the same Distemper in the same House, which -kept alive our Uneasiness; but after that, nothing was heard of it for -six Weeks or more, when it broke out beyond Concealment. - -At this Time, Master _Benskin’s_ Shop-window was full of small Books -with awakening Titles, such as “_Britain’s_ Remembrancer,”—“Come out of -her, my People,”—“Give Ear, ye careless Daughters,” and such-like, many -of them emanating from the Pen of his Lodger in the Attick; and with -these and _Lilly’s_ Almanacks, he drove a thriving Trade. - -_Violet_ was sitting with me one Morning, when _Mark_ suddenly entered, -and seeing her with me, lost his Presence of Mind directly, and forgot -what he had to say. She on her Part, being just then in Mourning for one -of her Brother’s Children, for whom I am bold to say she had scarce shed -a Tear, (he being a humoursome Child, particularly disagreeable to her,) -fetches a deep Sigh, and with a pretty, pensive Air takes up her Work, -rises, mutely curtsies to him, and retires. On which he, after a -Minute’s Silence, says sadly, “_Violet_ is as beautiful, I see, as -ever,”—and I was grieved to find he still thought so much about her. - -Just then, my Father enters; and _Mark_, of a sudden recollecting his -Business, exclaimed, “Oh, Uncle, here is a capital Opening for you. ’Tis -an ill Wind, sure enough, that blows nobody any Good,—I don’t know why -you should not do a good Turn of Business as well as ourselves by being -Agent for the Sale of these patent Nostrums” ... and thereon pulled out -a Parcel of Bills, headed “Infallible Preventive-pills against the -Plague.” ... “Never-failing Preservatives against Infection.” ... -“Sovereign Cordials against the Corruption of the Air.” ... “The Royal -Antidote—” and so forth. - -—“No, Boy, no,” said my Father, putting them by, one after another, as -he looked over them, “Time was when I should have thought it as innocent -to laugh in my Sleeve at other People’s Credulity and turn a Penny by -their Delusions as yourself, and many others that are counted honest -Men; but I’m older and sadder now. To the best of my Belief, every and -all of these Remedies are Counterfeits, that will not only rob People of -their Money, but peradventure of their Lives, by inducing them to trust -in what they have bought instead of going to the Expense of proper -Medicines. A solemn Time is coming; my own Time may be short; and -whether I be taken or whether I be left, GOD forbid I should carry a Lie -in my right Hand, or set it in my Shop-window.” - -A Customer here summoned him away; and _Mark_, instead of departing, sat -down beside me and said, “What think you, _Cherry_, of this approaching -Visitation? Are you very much affrighted?” - -“Awe-stricken, rather,” I made Answer; “I only fear for myself along -with the rest, and I fear most for my Father, who will be more exposed -to it than I shall; but I feel I can leave the Matter in GOD’S Hand.” - -“I wish I could,” said poor _Mark_, sighing. “I own to you, _Cherry_, I -am horribly dismayed. I have a Presentiment that I shall not escape. My -_Wife_,” continued he, with great Bitterness in his Tone ... he commonly -spoke of her with assumed Recklessness as “his old Lady” ... “my Wife -has no Sense of the Danger—mocks at it, defies it; refuses to leave her -House and her Business, come what may, and tells me with a Scoff I shall -frighten myself to Death, and that _Ralph Denzel_ shall be her -Third.—Don’t you hate, _Cherry_, to hear Husbands and Wives, even in -Sport, making light of each other’s Deaths?” - -Her Grossness was offensive to me, and I said in a low Voice, “I do.” - -“And if I die, as die I very likely shall,” pursued he hurriedly, “you -may do me a Kindness, _Cherry_, by telling _Violet_ that I never——” - -This was insupportable to me. “Dear _Mark_,” I cried, “why yield to this -Notion of Evil which may be its own Fulfilment? GOD watches over all. -With proper Precaution, and with his Blessing, we may escape. No one -knows his Hour: the brittle Cup oft lasts the longest.—Many a Casualty -may cut us off before the Day of general Visitation.” - -“Aye,” he replied, with a sickened Look, “but I had a Dream last Night -... and, just now, as I came through _Bishopgate_ Churchyard, a Crowd of -People were watching a Ghost among the Tombs, that was signing to Houses -that should be stricken, and to yet undug Graves.” - -“_Watching_ it?” said I. “Did you see it?” - -“Well, I rather think I did,” said _Mark_, “but am not quite assured—the -Press was very great. At any rate, I saw those who evidently _did_ see -it. My Wife has had her Fortune told, and the Fortune-teller avouched to -her she should escape; so there’s the Ground of _her_ Comfort. To make -doubly sure, she wears a Charm. For me, I am neither for Charm nor -Fortune-telling,—if I die, I die, and what then! I’ve often felt Life -scarce worth keeping; only one don’t know what comes after!” - -And, with a faint Laugh, he rose to go away. I said, “_Mark! Mark!_” - -“What is it?” he said, and stopped. I said, “Don’t go away with that -light Saying in your Mouth——” - -He said, “Oh!” and smiling, opened the Door. I said, looking full at -him, “Faith in GOD is the best Amulet.” - -“It is,” he said more gravely; and went out. - -Presently my Father came in to Supper; and sat down, while it was making -ready, near the Window, looking out on the River quite calmly. Our large -white Cat sat purring beside him. Stroking her kindly, he said, “Pussy, -you must keep close, or your Days will be few ... they’ve given Orders, -now, to kill all the Dogs and Cats. I believe, _Cherry_, we are as safe -here as we should be in the privatest Retreat in the Kingdom, for -Infection never harbours on the _Bridge_, the Current of Air always -blows it away, one Way or the other. But, my dear, we may be called away -at any Hour, and I never Sleep worse of a Night for bearing in Mind I -may not see another Morning. But I rest all the peacefuller, _Cherry_, -for knowing you will never be in want, though this poor Business should -dwindle away to nothing. Master _Benskin_ and _Hugh Braidfoot_ know all -about my little Hoard, and will manage it well for you, my Daughter. And -now, let’s see what is under this bright little Cover. Pettitoes, as -sure as _London Bridge_ is built on Wool-packs!” - -And he ate his frugal Meal cheerfully, I thinking in my Mind, as I had -so often done before, that the firmest Heart is oft found in the -littlest Body. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - _The Plague_ - - -AS Spring advanced, the Plague came on amain. Houses were shut up, some -empty, some with infected People in them under Guard, ne’er to be let -out, save in perfect Health or to be cast into the Dead-cart. Swarms of -People hurried out of Town, some in Health, some already infected: never -was such a Blockade of Carts, Coaches, and Horsemen on the _Bridge_; and -I was told, on the northern and western Roads ’twas still worse. Every -Horse, good and bad, was in request, at enormous Hire: as soon as they -had done Duty for one Party, they came back for another, so that the -poor Things had an ill Time o’t. The Court set the Example of running -away; the Nobility and Gentry followed it; the Soldiers were all sent to -Country Quarters, the _Tower_ was left under the Guard of a few -Beef-eaters, all the Courts of Law were closed, and even the middle and -lower Ranks that could not well afford to leave their Shops and Houses, -thought it a good Matter to escape for bare Life, and live about the -Country in removed Places, camping in the Fields, and under Hedges. - -[Illustration: - - Houses were shut up, some empty, some - with infected people in them -] - -Thus the City, which had previously been so over-filled as to provoke -the comparing of it with _Jerusalem_ before the last Passover, was in a -Manner so depopulated, that though vast Numbers remained in its -By-streets and Lanes, whole Rows of Houses stood empty. Those that -walked abroad kept the Middle of the Streets for Fear of Infection; -Grass began to grow between the Paving-stones; the Sound of Wheels was -scarce heard, for People were afraid of using the Hackney-coaches; -Beggars, and Street-singers, and Hawkers, had altogether disappeared; so -that there was nothing to break the awful Stillness save the Shrieks of -dying Persons in lone Houses, or the Rumbling of the Dead-cart. - -Meanwhile, though the Distemper was raging on both Sides of us and all -about us, it came not on the Bridge. Crowded Assemblages of Buyers and -Sellers at Markets, &c., being much to be avoided, we laid in as much -Stock as our small Premises would hold and our small Family require, of -Soap, Candles, Groceries, Cheese, Bacon, salt Butter, and such-like. And -whereas the Plague raged worse than Anywhere among the Butchers’ Stalls -and low Fishmongers, we made a Merit of Necessity, and fasted from both -Fish and fresh Meat, as well for our Health as our Sins, which, if -sundry others had done in a proper Frame and Temper, ’tis likely they -might have been spared. - -Thus we kept close and went Abroad little, except to Public Prayers; -reading and meditating much at Home, and considering, as _Noah_ and his -Family probably did in the Ark, that if our Confinement were irksome, -’twas a cheap Price to pay for Safety. Of the _Blenkinsops_ we saw -nothing after the regular Outburst of the Calamity; but we knew that -Mistress _Blenkinsop_ was not only resolved not to stir, but that she -would not so much as lay in Stores for daily Consumption; perversely and -cruelly persisting in sending her Servants into the Danger, she feared -not for herself to purchase Pennyworths of Things she might have bought -wholesale. - -[Illustration: - - Keeping the Gates. -] - -Meantime, though our _Bridge_, by reason of its being one of the great -Thoroughfares of _London_, could not well be shut up, yet the -Bridgewardens took all the Care of us they could, keeping the Gates with -much Jealousy, and burning large Fires of resinous and strong-smelling -Substances. Early in the Season, there was one Person who took a mighty -Panic at her own Danger, which was Mistress _Armytage_. She had left her -Lodgings, ostensibly to be with _Kitty_ during her Confinement, but in -Reality, as the Event proved, to be out of the Reach of Infection. -However, the News of each Day, which she greedily gathered, becoming -dismaller, and the Crowds of People pouring out of Town exciting her -Desire to be among them, she wearied _Hugh Braidfoot_ with Entreaties -that he would promise to go into the Country as soon as _Kitty_ got -about again; and, one Night, a Coffin leaping into her Lap out of the -Fire, her Fears for herself could no longer be allayed, but she declared -she must go the next Morning, come what would. I heard much sobbing and -loud talking through the Wall overnight; and the next Morning at -Day-break, saw the Widow departing with a small Bundle in her Hand, and -a young Lad carrying her heavy Box. However, the End, which was -impressive, was this. She over-heated herself in her selfish Flight, -slept in a damp Bed the next Night, and took a Hurt which ended her Life -before the Year was out, though not by the Plague. - -Soon after, _Kitty_ gave Birth to twin Daughters, the sweetest little -Dears that ever were seen, whom she very prettily insisted on naming -_Violet_ and _Cherry_. But now, the Plague being more and more talked -of, and she being unable to nurse both, it became a momentous Question -with her whether to bring one up by Hand or send it to a Foster-nurse in -the Country. At length, the latter was decided upon; and little _Violet_ -was put out to nurse at _Lewisham_. - -And now the Judgment of GOD fell very heavy on us; insomuch that amid -the general Visitation and Bereavement, it would have been strange -indeed if even the unafflicted could have been so unfeeling as to hold -back from the general Mourning. The Cry from every Pulpit and every -Altar was, “Spare, O LORD, spare thy People, whom thou hast redeemed -with thy precious Blood;” and the Churches were open all Day long and -crowded with Penitents, till it was found that Contagion was thereby -augmented; whereon all but the bold fell to exchanging public for -private Devotion. - -About this Time, poor _Kitty Braidfoot_ fell into much Danger. She was -nursing her little _Cherry_ one Morning, and saying to me how her Heart -yearned for a Sight of its Twin-sister, when, as if in Answer to her -Wish, in comes the Foster-nurse, looking defiant and heated, with the -Infant in her Arms, whom without more Ado she sets upon the Table, and -then retreats to the Door. - -“There’s your Babby, Mistress,” says she bluntly, “and you owes me one -and twenty Shillings for the last six Weeks’ nursing, at Three and -Sixpence a Week ... it’s taken the Plague, and I can’t have my own Babby -infected, so I declines the farther Charge of it—’tis a puny little -Thing, and I doesn’t think would anyhow ha’ lived long.” - -“Puny!” cries _Kitty_, with Eyes darting Fire; “why, you’ve starved it -for the Sake of your own Baby! ’Twas as fine a Child as this, and now a -downright Skeleton!” - -The Woman had an Answer on her Lips, but Something in _Kitty’s_ Eye and -in her own Heart suddenly abashed her; and with a “Marry come up!” she -hastily turned about and quitted the House, without so much as asking -again for her one and twenty Shillings. Poor _Kitty_ exclaimed, “Oh, you -little Starveling!” and bursting into Tears, put _Cherry_ into my Arms, -and began to unfasten her own Dress. I said, “Remember, you cannot nurse -both——” She said, “I must commit the other to you to bring up by Hand -and keep out of the Infection—I cannot let this little Thing perish,” -and showered on it Kisses and Tears, quite thoughtless of her own -Safety. - -Just then, _Hugh_ came in, and stood amazed when he saw _Kitty_ fondling -the famished little Infant. She, thoughtful of him also before herself, -cried, “Don’t come near me, _Hugh_! Baby has the Plague. I’m thankful -the Woman brought it Home; GOD forbid a Child of mine should endanger a -Child of hers!” And pressed her little one yet closer to her, and kissed -its little, meagre Hands. Poor _Hugh_ stood aghast at the News, -regarding her from where he first stood with a Mixture of Wonder, -Admiration, and Fear; at length exclaiming, “GOD be your Blessing, -_Kitty_!”—he brushed off a Tear and turned away. Again saw I that the -strongest Heart is not always in the biggest Body. As for _Kitty_, I -thought she had never looked so beautiful as at that Moment. She was now -eagerly seeking for some Token of the Disease about her Child, but could -find none. “What and if ’twere a false alarm?” cries she,—“Heaven grant -it!—But now, dear _Cherry_, take your little Charge out of Harm’s -Reach—and bid _Nell_ tend dear _Hugh_ all she can—I’ve Everything I want -here, and they can set down my Meals at the Door without coming in.” - -I looked back at her as I closed the Door, and saw her smiling so over -her Baby that it really seemed as if she felt she had in it Everything -she wanted. And when I lay down by my little _Cherry_ at Night, and felt -its little Mites of Hands straying over my Face, I felt drawn towards it -with a Love I had never experienced for a Child before, and wondered not -how _Kitty_, who might call it Part and Parcel of herself, could so -cheerfully risk her own Life for that of her Child. - -Next Morning, both our Heads were thrust simultaneously out of our -Bedroom Windows. “_Violet_ is doing purely,” cries she; “there’s no -Plague-spot—How is _Cherry_?” We exchanged Congratulations and heartfelt -Blessings. - -In short, it proved a false Alarm; but as _Cherry_ was so miraculously -contented under my Care, her Mother would not have her back till every -Fear of Danger was over, by which Time the pretty Creature was well -weaned. If _Hugh_ had loved his Wife before this, he now absolutely -adored her: he said he had learned the Value of his Treasures too dearly -to run any farther Risk of losing them, come what might to his Business. -So he shut up Shop, left an old Woman in Charge, bought a Tent, Horse, -and Cart, and Everything else he wanted or could take; and, one fair -Morning, he mounted _Kitty_ all smiling under the Tilt, with a Darling -on each Arm, and Bags, Baskets, and Crockery-ware all about her; and -shouldering his Carter’s Whip, started off with his Family for _Kent_, -like a blythe, honest Patriarch. - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - _Foreshadows_ - - -AH! with that little Gipsey-party went all the Smiles I was to see for many -a Day, though I knew it not. - -My Father about this Time seemed dull and sorry of Cheer. I asked him if -aught ailed him in Body or Mind, or had gone wrong in his Affairs. He -said, no—that he was sensible of a Heaviness on his Spirits, but could -no Ways account for it. And, with that Stoutness of Heart which had -become a second Nature, he bustled about and tried to cast it off. Still -I watched him narrowly, but could detect no Signs of Disorder. I lay -awake at Night, thinking of him; and amid the Stillness all about, could -faintly hear the distant Wail of that poor distracted Madman, who -incessantly ran about the Streets of the City, crying, “Oh! the great -and dreadful GOD!” - -After Breakfast, my Father said to me, “_Cherry_, I shall be absent for -an Hour or two, but you may expect me punctually at Dinner.” - -I said, “Oh, Father! why must you go forth? is there any pressing -Occasion?” - -“Why, yes, there is,” said he, “for a Man who owes me Money is going to -make the Plague a Pretext for leaving the Country, and has succeeded, I -understand, in getting a clean Bill of Health.” - -I said, “Let it be, if it be no great Matter.” - -“Nay,” he said gently, “it _is_ a great Matter to People in our -Condition, with whom Trade is at a Stand-still. I have not yet held -aloof from any necessary Affairs, but I give you my Word I will run no -needless Risks.” - -And so was going forth, when I said, “There is a little white on your -shoulder,” and brushed it off with my Apron. When I had done it, he -turned about and kissed me. - -We were to have Bacon and Eggs that Day. I had a Presentiment he would -be after his Time, in spite of what he had said, and told _Dolly_ not to -fry them till he came in. Hour after Hour passed, long after -Dinner-time, and still he came not. Then I grew troubled, and kept -looking along the _Bridge_. - -At last, when it was growing dusk, I put on my Hood and went to the -Bridge Gate. I said to the Gate-keeper, “Did you see my Father pass the -Gate this Morning, Master _Princeps_?” - -“Yes, Mistress _Cherry_, I did,” returned he, “more by Token he said he -was going either through or to _Lime Street_, I forget which.” - -I said, “I can’t think why he don’t come back.” - -“Oh!” says he, “he’ll be back presently,” which, though spoken entirely -at random, yet being uttered in a cheerful Tone, somewhat heartened me, -and I returned Home. - -Master _Benskin_ was putting up his Shop Shutters. I said, “I can’t -think what has become of my Father, Master _Benskin_.” He said, “Has not -he come Home? Oh, Something unforeseen must have delayed him. You know -that might happen to any of us.” And put the Screw in his last Shutter. - -I said, “What should you do if you were me?” He said, “Well, I’m sure I -can’t tell what I should do—I don’t see I could do Anything—He’ll come -Home presently, I dare say ... don’t be uneasy.” And went in. I thought, -“_Job’s_ Comforters are ye all.” - -About ten o’ the Clock at Night, I went down to the Bridge Gate again. -They were shutting it up for the Night, and making up the great Bonfire -in the Middle of the Street. This Time I could hardly speak for crying; -I said, “Master _Princeps_, I can’t think _why_ my Father doesn’t come -back! I think Something must have happened!” - -“Nay,” says he, “what can have happened? Very likely he has been -unexpectedly detained, and thinks he shall not be back before the Gate -is shut, and is too neighbourly to wish to knock me up. So he takes a -Bed with the Friend he is with.—Now we’ve got it all clear, depend upon -it!” - -“But,” said I, “there’s no Friend he can be with, that I know of.” - -“Why, in _Lime Street_!” says he, with all the Confidence imaginable. - -“_Lime Street?_ Dear Master _Princeps_, my Father knows nobody in _Lime -Street_.” - -—“Don’t he though?” says he doubtfully. “Well, I’m sure I think he said -he was going through or to _Lime Street_, I can’t justly remember -which.” - -I turned away in deep Disappointment and Trouble. As I passed under the -deep Shade of the Houses, some one coming close up to me, said, -“_Cherry!_ pretty _Cherry_! is that you?” But it was not my Father’s -Voice, and I passed on in Disgust. I would not fasten the House-door, -and sat just within it all Night, a Candle set in the Window. I opened -my Bible at random, in Hope of Something to hearten and comfort.—The -Words I lighted on were, “I sought him, but could not find him; I called -him, but he gave me no Answer.” And the Page was wet with my Tears. - -As soon as Day broke, I was again at the Door. People going to Market -early looked at me strangely as they passed. It struck me my Appearance -was not very tidy, so I went in, washed and re-dressed myself, which -refreshed me a little, drank a Cup of Milk, and then put on my Hood and -went down to the Gate. I said, “Master _Princeps_, I can’t think what’s -come to my Father.” - -“Bless my Soul!” cries he, “what, has he not been Home all Night? Then -you see, he _must_ be sleeping out, and will not have risen yet, to -disturb his Friend’s Family. So, go your Ways back, Mistress _Cherry_, -and don’t be fretting; rely on it he will return as soon as he has -breakfasted, which he cannot have done yet.” - -So I turned away, sad at my Heart; and as I passed _John Armytage’s_ -Shop, I looked up at _Violet’s_ Window, and saw her dressed, and just -putting back her white Curtains. She looked down on me, and nodded, and -smiled, but I shook my Head sorrowfully, and turned my Face away. Before -I reached my own Door, I felt some one twitching my Cloak behind, and -she comes up to me all panting. - -“_Cherry!_ dear _Cherry_!” says she breathlessly, “what’s the Matter?” - -“I’ve lost my Father,” said I, with filling Eyes. - -“Dead!” cries she, looking affrighted. - -“He may be,” said I, bursting into Tears, “for he has not come Home all -Night.” - -“Oh, if that’s all,” says she, putting her Arm round me and drawing me -into the House, “all may yet be well.—How many Women might cry, -_Cherry_, if they thought their Husbands and Fathers were dead, every -Time they stayed out all Night! Come, tell me all about it——” And she -entered with such Concern into my Grief that its Bitterness was allayed. - -“Come,” she said, “let us give him till Dinner-time—he may drop in any -Minute, you know, and if you go looking for him, you know not where, you -may miss him. So give him till Dinner-time, and after that, if he comes -not, go and knock at every Door in _Lime Street_, if you will.” - -And she stayed, wiling the slow Time as long as she could with talking -of this and that. At length, Dinner-time came; I could scarce await it, -and directly the Clock struck, I started forth. It occurred to me I -would go to _Mark_. - -As I approached the Gate, I heard Master _Princeps_ say to the second -Gate-keeper, “I’ll lay you a Wager this Girl is coming again to ask me -why she can’t find her Father.” - -[Illustration: - - Cherry seeking her father -] - -Instead of which, I only said as I came up to him, “I’m going to look -for my Father, Master _Princeps_.” - -“Well,” says he, “I wish you may find him with all my Heart, but it -seems like looking for a Pin in a Hayfield.—Perhaps he’ll return while -you are away.... Take Care where you go; the Streets and Lanes are -dangerous——” - -There were People paying Toll; and while I was waiting to pass, I heard -one Man ask another if he had seen the great Plague-pit dug in -_Aldgate_, forty Feet long, and twenty Feet deep; adding, he believed -many People that were picked up in the Streets were cast into it before -it was well known if they were dead or alive. - -I darted through the Toll-gate the Moment it was clear, and made for -_Cheapside_. Oh! how awful the Change, during a few Weeks! Not a -Creature stirring, where lately all had been alive.—At the Turn of a -Lane I met a Man wheeling a dead Person in a Hand-barrow, and turning -his own Head aside. Houses were deserted or silent, marked with the -fatal red Cross. Within one, I heard much wailing and sobbing. At length -I reached _Mark’s_ House. ’Twas all shut up!—and a Watchman sat smoking -on the Door-step. He said, “Young Woman, what do you want?” I said, “I -want to speak to _Mark Blenkinsop_.” ... He said, “Nobody must go out or -in—the House is under Visitation.”—My Heart sank when I remembered -_Mark’s_ Forebodings of himself, and I said, “Is he dead?” “I know not -whether he be dead or no,” replied the Watchman; “a Maid-servant was put -into the Cart the Night before last, and a ’Prentice the Night before -that.—Since then, they’ve kept mighty quiet, and asked for Nothing, -though I’ve rung the House-bell two or three Times. But the Night-watch -told me that a Woman put her Head out of Window during the Night, and -called out, ‘Oh! Death, Death, Death!’ three several Times.” - -I said, “Ring the Bell again!” - -He did so, and pulled it so violently this Time, that the Wire broke. We -gave each other a blank Look. - -“See!” said I, “there’s a Window open on the Second Story——” - -“’Tis where the Woman put out her Head and screeched, during the Night,” -said he. - -“Could not you get a Ladder,” said I, “and look in?” - -“Well,” said he, “I will, if you will stay here and see that no one -comes out while I’m gone.” - -So I said I would, but I should have been a sorry Guard had any one -indeed rushed forth, so weak was I and trembling. I thought of _Mark_ -lying within, perhaps stiff and cold. - -Presently the Watchman returned with a Ladder, but it was too short, so -then he had to go for another. This Time he was much longer gone, so -that I was almost beside myself with waiting. All this Time not a -Creature passed. At length a Man came along the Middle of the Street, -holding a red Rod before him. He cried, “What do you there?” I said, “We -know not whether the Family be dead or have deserted the House—a -Watchman has gone for a Ladder to look through the open Window.” He -said, “I will send some one to look to it,” and passed on. - -Then the Watchman and another Man appeared, carrying a long Ladder -between them. They set it against the Window, and the Watchman went up. -When he had looked in, he cried out in a fearful Voice, “There’s a Woman -in white, lying all along on the Floor, seemingly dead, with a Casket of -Jewels in her Hand.—Shall I go in?”—“Aye, do,” I exclaimed. The other -Man, hearing talk of Jewels, cried, “Here, come you down, if you be -afraid, and I’ll go in,” and gave the Ladder a little Shake; which, -however, only made the Watchman at once jump through the Window. Then up -came two Men, saying, “We are from my _Lord Mayor_, empowered to seal up -any Property that may be left, if the Family indeed be dead.”—So they -went up the Ladder too, and the other Man had no Mind to go now; and -presently the Watchman comes out of the House-door, looking very pale, -and says he, “Besides the Lady on the Floor, with all her Jewels about -her, there’s not a Soul, alive nor dead, in the House; the others must -have escaped over the back Walls and Out-houses.” - -Then my Heart gave a great Beat, for I concluded _Mark_ had escaped, -leaving his Wife to die alone; and now all my Thoughts returned to my -Father. I hastened to one or two Acquaintances of his, who, it was just -possible, might have seen him; but their Houses were one and all shut -up, and, lying some Way apart from each other, this took up much Time. I -now became bewildered and almost wild, not knowing where to look for -him; and catching like a drowning Man at a Straw, I went to _Lime -Street_. Here I went all up one Side and all down the other, knocking at -every Door that was not padlocked. At first I made my Inquiries -coherently enough, and explained my Distress and got a civil Answer; -but, as I went on and still did not find him, my Wits seemed to -unsettle, and, when any one came to the Door, which was often not till -after much knocking and waiting, I had got nothing to say to them but, -“Have you seen my Father?” and when they stared and said, “Who is your -Father?” I could not rightly bring his Name to Mind. This gave me some -Sign of Wildness, I suppose, for after a While, the People did not so -much look strange as pitying, and said, “Who is your Father, poor Girl?” -and waited patiently for me to answer. All except one rough Man, who -cried fiercely, “In the Dead-pit in _Aldgate_, very likely, where my -only Child will be to-night.” Then I lost Sense altogether, and -shrieked, “Oh! he’s in the Pit! _Father! Father!_” and went running -through the Streets, a-wringing my Hands. At length a Voice far off -answered, “Daughter! Daughter! here I am!” and I rushed towards it, -crying, “Oh, where? I’m coming! I’m coming!” And so got nearer and -nearer till it was only just at the Turn of the next Street; but when I -gained it, I came upon a Party of disorderly young Men. One of them -cries, “Here I am, Daughter!” and burst out laughing. But I said, “Oh, -you are not he,” and brake away from him. - -“Stay, I know all about him,” cries another. “Was he tall or short?” Oh, -wicked, wicked Men, thought I, ’tis such as you that break Fathers’ -Hearts! - -[Illustration] - -How I got back to the _Bridge_, I know not. I was put to Bed in a raging -Fever. In my Deliration I seemed to see my Father talking earnestly with -another Man whose Face I knew not, and who appeared to hear him with -Impatience, and want to leave him, but my Father laid his Hand upon his -Arm. Then the other, methought, plucked a heavy Bag from under his -Cloke, and cast it towards my Father, crying, “Plague take it and you -too!” Then methought my Father took it up and walked off with it into -the Street, but as he went, he changed Colour, stopped short, staggered, -and fell. Presently I seemed to hear a Bell, and a dismal Voice crying, -“Bring out your Dead!”—and a Cart came rumbling along, and a Man held a -Lanthorn to my Father’s Face, and without more Ado, took him up and cast -him into the Cart. Then methought, a Man in the Cart turned the Horse -about, and drove away without waiting to call anywhere else, to a dismal -lone Field, lying all in the Blackness of Darkness, where the Cart -turned about, and shot a Heap of senseless Bodies into a great, yawning -Pit ... them that a few Hours back had been strong, hearty Men, -beautiful Women, smiling Children. - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER X - - _A Friend in Need_ - - -WHEN I returned to my Reason, it was with an inexpressible Sense of Weakness -and Weariness. The first Thing I saw was dear _Violet’s_ Face close to -mine, her large, dark Eyes fixed full upon me; and as soon as she saw -that I knew her, she exclaims, “_Cherry_, dear _Cherry_! I thought I had -no more Tears left to shed, but I must cry again with Pleasure now—” and -wept over me. - -I said, “Is he come back yet?” She said, “You must only think of getting -well now.” - -“Ah,” I said, “I know he is not,” and turned my Head away, and still -felt her warm Tears dropping over me. They seemed to heal where they -fell; and presently, I shed Tears too, which cleared my Head, and -somewhat relieved me; but oh! the Weakness!— - -I was very slow getting well. All the While, dear _Violet_ kept with me, -read to me, cheered me, cherished me ... oh, what a Friend! How Trouble -brings out the real Good in People’s Characters, if there be any! - -Before I was well able to sit up, Master _Benskin_ sent in Word he had -Something important to say to me as soon as I was equal to hearing it. I -thought he might have got some Clue to my Father, and said I was quite -equal to hearing Anything he had to tell. Then he came in, treading on -Tip-toe, and looking very awe-stricken; and, says he, “Mistress -_Cherry_,”—taking a Chair as he spoke, a good Way off from me,—“the -lamented Event which we may now consider to have taken place....” - -“No, Master _Benskin_, no,” interrupted I, faintly; “I still hope there -has been _no_ lamented Event——” - -“Makes it my Duty,” continued he, without minding me, “to tell you that -you need be under no Uneasiness about pecuniary Circumstances.” - -“I am not, I assure you,” said I. “Oh that I had nothing worse to be -uneasy about!” - -“This House,” continued he, “was your Father’s for ninety-nine Years, -and is now yours; and he moreover had saved six hundred Pounds, three -hundred of which he lent me, and three hundred _Hugh Braidfoot_, we -paying him five per Cent., which we will continue to pay you, or hand -over to you the Principal, whichever you like.” - -“Thank you, Master _Benskin_,” said I; “I should wish Everything to -continue just as it is.... I am sure my Father’s Money can’t be in -better Hands; and I shall recommence inquiring for him directly I am -strong enough, which I almost am already.” - -“Ah,” said he, with a sorrowful Smile and a Shake of the Head, “how slow -Women are to give up Hope!... Sure enough, ’tis one of the cardinal -Virtues; but they practise it as if ’twere their Nature, without making -a Merit of it. I wish you well from my Heart, Miss _Cherry_.” - -All this While I was fretting to see Master _Blower_. I said often to -_Violet_, “I wish Master _Blower_ would look in to see me, and talk to -me and pray with me as he used to do with my Mother. Sure, I’m sick -enow! and he might, for as long as he has known me, count me the same as -one of his own Congregation.” - -And _Violet_ would make Answer, “Indeed, _Cherry_, if you consider how -the good Man is wearing himself out among his own Flock, going hither -and thither without setting his Life at a Pin’s Purchase, spending all -his Time in Visitation that is not taken up with the Services of the -Church, you need not be surprised he comes not so far as this, -especially as he knows not of your Affliction nor your Illness.” - -“How do you, that are not a Church-woman, know he does all you say?” -said I. - -“I had it from the old Woman that brings the Curds and Whey,” returned -_Violet_; “she, you know, is one of his Parishioners; and, from what she -says of him, it appears he could not do more if he were a Dissenter.” - -“A Dissenter, indeed! I admire that!” said I. “If he were a slothful, -timid, self-indulgent Person, you would bestow all his Faults on his -Church; but because his Light shines before Men, so that they cannot -help glorifying his Father which is in Heaven, you say he could hardly -do more if he were a Dissenter!—I shall go to him as soon as ever I get -well.” - -And so I did; while, indeed, I was hardly strong enough for so long a -Walk; for I had a Notion he would tell me where to find my Father; or -comfort me, maybe, if he thought he could not be found. It was now late -in _September_.—His Parish was one of the worst in _Whitechapel_,—he -lived in a roomy, gloomy old Parsonage-house, too large for a single -Man, in a Street that was now deserted and grass-grown. The first Thing -I saw was a Watchman asleep on the Steps, which gave me a Pang; for, -having heard Master _Blower_ was so active in his Parish, I somehow had -never reckoned on his being among the Sick, though that was a very just -Reason why he should be. I had thought so good a Man would lead a -charmed Life, forgetful that in this World there is often one Event to -the Righteous and to the Wicked, and that if the Good always escaped, no -Harm would have befallen my Father. However, this sudden Shock, for such -it was, brought Tears into my Eyes, and I began to be at my Wits’ End, -who should tell me now where to find my Father, and to lament over the -Illness of my good and dear Friend, Master _Blower_. Then I bethought -me,—Perhaps he is not in the House, but may have left it in Charge of -some Woman, who is ill,—if I waken the Watchman, he certainly will not -let me in; the Key is grasped firmly in his Hand, so firmly that I dare -not try to take it, but yet I must and will get in.— - -Then I observed that, in carelessly locking the Door, the Lock had -overshot it, so that, in Fact, the Door, instead of being locked, would -not even shut. So I stept lightly past the Watchman and into the House; -and the first Thing within the Threshold was a Can of Milk, turned quite -sour, which shewed how long it must have stood without any Body’s being -able to fetch it. I closed the Door softly after me, and went into all -the ground-floor Rooms; they were empty and close shuttered: the Motes -dancing in the Sunbeams that came through the round Holes in the -Shutters. Then I went softly up Stairs, and looked timidly into one or -two Chambers, not knowing what ghastly Sight I might chance upon; but -they were tenantless. As I stood at pause in the Midst of one of them, -which was a Sitting-room, and had one or two Chairs out of their Places, -as if it had been never set to rights since it was last in Occupation, I -was startled by hearing a Man in the Room beyond giving a loud, -prolonged Yawn, as though he were saying, “Ho, ho, ho, ho, hum!” Then -all was silent again: I thought it must be Master _Blower_, and went -forward, but paused, with my Hand on the Lock. Then I thought I heard a -murmuring Voice within; and, softly opening the Door and looking in, -perceived a great four-post Bed with dark green Curtains drawn close all -round it, standing in the Midst of a dark oaken Floor that had not been -bees-waxed recently enough to be slippery. Two or three tall, -straight-backed Chairs stood about; a Hat upon one, a Boot upon another, -quite in the Style of Master _Blower_; and close to the Bed was a Table -with Jugs, Cups, and Phials, and a Night-lamp still burning, though -’twas broad Day. The Shutters also were partially shut, admitting only -one long Stream of slanting Light over-against the Bed; but whether any -one were in the Bed, I could not at first make out, for all was as still -as Death. Presently, however, from within the Curtains came a somewhat -thick Voice, exclaiming, “Oh LORD, my Heart is ready, my Heart is ready! -I will sing and give Praise with the best Member that I have! Awake, -Lute and Harp! I myself will awake right early!” - -[Illustration] - -Here the dear good Man fell a-coughing, as if Something stuck in his -Throat; and I tip-toeing up to the Bedside, withdrew the Curtains and -softly said, “Master _Blower_!” - -Never shall I forget my first Sight of him! There he lay on his Back, -with Everything quite clean and fresh about him, not routed and tumbled -as most Men’s would have been, but as smooth as if just mangled:—his -Head, without e’er a Nightcap, lying straight on his Pillow, his Face -the Mirror of Composedness and Peaceification, and his great, brown -Eyes, glowing with some steady, not feverish Light, turned slowly round -upon me, as if fresh from beholding some beatific, solemnifying Sight. - -“Why, _Cherry_,” says he, looking much pleased, “are you come to look on -me before I die? I thought I had taken my last Sight of all below,”—and -reaching out his Hand to me from under the Bedclothes, I was shocked to -perceive how it was wasted: every Knuckle a perfect Knob. - -“Don’t touch me!” cries he, plucking it away again, and burying it out -of Sight,—“I forgot you hadn’t had the Plague. What a selfish Fellow I -am!—How’s your dear Father, _Cherry_?” - -I could not withhold myself from weeping, and was unable to answer. - -“Ah, I see how it is,” says he kindly; “poor _Cherry_! poor _Cherry_! -‘the Righteous perish and no Man layeth it to Heart,’—I heard a Voice -say, ‘Write: Blessed are the Dead which die in the LORD. Yea, saith the -Spirit, for they rest from their Labours.’... I shall see him before you -will, _Cherry_. Go Home, Child, go Home, ... this Air is fraught with -Danger.” - -I said, “I am not afraid of it, Sir,—I would rather stay a While with -you.” - -“Well, then,” said he, “just give me a Drink of Water, or Anything -liquid you can find; for I have had Nothing but what I could help myself -to, these twenty-four Hours. My Throat is so bad, I cannot swallow -Anything solid.... Oh! Oh!—” And as he held back his Throat to drink, I -noticed the Plague Swellings. - -“That will do nicely, now,” sighed he, when I had smoothed his Pillow; -“and now go, I prithee, dear _Cherry_, and look after poor _Dorcas_, -who, I fear, must be dead or dying somewhere about the House.” - -So I did as he bade me; and, as I knew she was not on the Floor below, I -went in quest of her up Stairs. _Dorcas_ had lived with Master _Blower_ -ever since he commenced Housekeeping; and had had the Help of a younger -Maid, who now, it seemed, had left, or died. She was a Widow-woman in -her third score, eccentric, like her Master, in some Matters; but -withal, of the sweetest, pleasantest Countenance! and of pleasant -Conditions too, so that they were well matched. She preferred being -called Mistress _Peach_; but Master _Blower_ liked calling her _Dorcas_, -and carried his Point. - -I found her in the upper Story, lying all across her Bed, dressed, but -more dead than alive. “Alas! young Woman,” says she.... “What! is it -Mistress _Cherry_? Heaven be praised! How is my Master? Doth he live -yet?” - -I said, Yes, and I hoped was going on well. - -“Ah,” says she, “I left him at Death’s Door, but could no longer keep -about myself; so, set him straight as well as I could, and then crawled -up here, thinking to bundle my Mattress down Stairs, and at all events -die within hearing of him. But ’twas quite beyond my Strength.... I fell -all along, and here I’ve been ever since.” - -Then she began to groan terribly, but I made her as comfortable as I -could, dressed her Throat, persuaded her to swallow a little cooling -Drink, and loosened her Clothes; all which she took very thankfully, but -then became restless about her Master, and prayed me to go down to him, -for he wanted me more than she did. - -So I returned to Master _Blower_, whom I now found a good deal more -suffering and feverish than when I left him, and beginning to toss -about. I quite gave up all Intention of leaving the House, yet thought -_Violet_ might be uneasy about me; therefore I stepped down to beg the -Watchman to send a Message to her; but found the House-door locked. - -On my rapping against it and calling, he unlocked it and looked in. -“Hallo, young Woman,” says he, “how came you here?” - -“I stepped in while you were asleep,” said I, “the Door being ajar.” - -“Asleep? that’s a pretty Tale to tell of me,” quoth he. “I wonder if -_you_ wouldn’t feel sleepy sometimes, sitting from Morn to Night on a -Door-step, full in the Sun!” - -“I want to tell no Tales,” said I, “but only desire to send Word to my -Friends on the _Bridge_ that I cannot return to them at present, being -wanted here.” - -“Return? of course you cannot,” says he. “Why, do you suppose Persons -are to be allowed to walk in and out of Houses under Visitation at their -Will? ’Tis clear against my _Lord Mayor’s_ Orders.” - -This had escaped me; however, it made no Difference; and he engaged to -let _Violet_ know the Cause of my Detention. Then I returned to my -Charges, and, to my great Surprise, found _Dorcas_ had crawled nearly -all down the Flight of Stairs between her and Master _Blower_, and was -now lying all along. She said, “I thought I must see how Master was ... -if you will but tumble the Mattress down, Mistress _Cherry_, I’ll lie -just within his Door,—then you won’t have to run up and down Stairs so -often.” It did, indeed, make it easier for me to attend to them both; -and truly I never had such a Night before nor since; for though my dear -Mother’s Sufferings had been long drawn out and very sad to witness, -they had never amounted to acute Agony. The Fever of both ran very high -all Night, and it seemed to me that Master _Blower_ in his Deliration -went through the whole Book of _Job_ in his Head, from the disjointed -Fragments he uttered here and there. Also he seemed much argufying with -an impenitent Sinner in his Flock, his Reasonings and tender Persuasives -with whom were enough to have melted a Stone. As to Mistress _Peach_, I -must say her Thoughts ran mostly on her Jams, ... she conceited herself -opening Pot after Pot and finding every one fermented; and kept -exclaiming in a doleful Voice, “Oh dear, here’s another Bishop’s Wig!” -So that, what with being ready to laugh at her, and to cry over him, I -was quite carried out of myself, and away from my own Troubles. Towards -Day-dawn they both became quiet; I fumigated the Room, bathed their -Temples with Vinegar, moistened their Mouths, and then knelt down in a -Corner to pray; after which, I dozed a little. I had heard the -Death-cart going its melancholy Round during the Night; and had felt -thankful we had no Dead to be carried out. - -In the Morning, both my Patients seemed bettering. _Dorcas_, with my -Help, got to her Master’s Bedside, and looked in on him. “Dear Sir,” -says she, “how are you now?” - -“Somewhat easier, but very thirsty, Mistress _Peach_,” says he. - -“Oh dear, Sir,” says she, “don’t call me Mistress _Peach_, or I shall -think you’re going to die. I like _Dorcas_ best now. What a Mercy it -was, Sir, Mistress _Cherry_ came in as she did, for we were both at -Death’s Door. I dare say, Sir, you missed me?” - -“How should I do otherwise?” said he, speaking very thick, and with -evident Pain.... “I’ve got a Wasp’s Nest in my Throat, I think.... How -should I do otherwise, I say, when no one came near me for twenty-four -Hours?” - -“Ah, Sir,” says she, “I’m sure I beg your Pardon for behaving so -ill,—for _being_ so ill, that is; but indeed I could not help it. I -thought,” continues she, turning to me, “I wouldn’t die, as ’twere, just -under his Nose, so crawled out of Sight; but put Everything near him -that he could want before I took the Liberty of leaving him; and did the -best Thing I could for him at parting, by putting a fine drawing Plaster -round his Throat.... Pray, Sir, did it draw?” - -“Draw?” cries he, with the first indignant Flash I ever saw from his -pleasant Eyes ... and ’twas half humourous, too,—“Like a Cart-horse! I -should have been dead Hours ago, you Woman, had I kept it on!” - -Sorrowful as I was, I could not help bursting out a-laughing, and he did -so too, when suddenly stopping short and looking very odd,—“I don’t know -whatever has given way in my Throat,” says he, “but verily I think that -Laugh has saved me! Here! give me some Water, or Milk, or Anything to -drink, for I can swallow now.” - -So I gave him some Water, and ran down Stairs for some Milk, the -Night-watchman having promised to set some within the Door. When I got -back, there was quite another Expression on his Face; composed and -thankful. _Dorcas_ was shedding Tears as she tended him, quite -thoughtless of herself. - -“Now, _Cherry_,” says he, “do persuade this dear Woman to lie down and -take Care of herself, for she has had Faith enough in her famous -Plasters to have put one about her own Throat, and I know what she must -be suffering, or will have to suffer.” - -So I gently led her back to her Mattress, and then, sitting down by -Master _Blower_, fed him with some Sponge-cake that was none the worse -for being stale when sopped in Milk, warm from the Cow. He took it with -great Satisfaction, and said he hoped I should not think him greedy when -I remembered how long he had fasted. Then he would not be peaceified -till I went down Stairs and breakfasted by myself: telling me his Mind -to him a Kingdom was, or somewhat to that Effect, which I could -thoroughly believe. When I came back, _Dorcas_ seemed sleeping soundly, -though not very easily. Master _Blower_ had got the same heavenly Look -as when I first saw him. I asked him if there were Anything I could do -for him. He said, Yes, I could read him the fortieth Psalm. When I had -done so, he said, “And now you can read me the hundred and sixteenth.” -That, he said, would do to reflect upon, and I might go my Ways now; he -should want Nothing more for a good While. So I sat down in a great -Arm-chair with a tall Back, wherein, the Chair being mighty comfortable, -and I somewhat o’erwearied with watching, (not being very strong yet,) -or ever I was aware I fell asleep, which certainly was not very good -Nursing nor good Manners. - -When I woke up, which may perhaps have been not so soon as it seemed to -me, “Well, Mistress _Cherry_,” says Master _Blower_, somewhat -ironically, “I hope you have had a good Nap. A Penny for your Dream.” - -I said it had been a wonderful pleasant one ... too wonderful, I feared, -to come true. - -“Well, let’s have it, nevertheless,” says he; “I like hearing wonderful -Dreams sometimes, when I’ve Nothing better to do. So, now for it.” - -—When I came to think it over, however, it seemed so different, waking -and sleeping, that I despaired of making it seem to him Anything like -what it had seemed to me. - -“Come,” said he, “you’re making a new one.” - -“Oh no, Sir!” said I, “I would not do such a Thing on any Account.—My -Dream was this;—only I fear you’ll call it a comical one.... Methought I -was walking with you, Sir, (I beg your Pardon for dreaming of you, which -I should not have done if I had not been nursing of you, I dare say)——” - -“Pardon’s granted,” says he. “Go on.” - -“I thought, Sir, I was walking with you in a Garden all full of Roses, -Pinks, Crownations, Columbines, Jolly-flowers, Heartsease, and—and....” - -“A Kiss behind the Garden-gate,” says he. - -I was quite thrown out; and said, I did not believe there was such a -Flower. - -“Oh yes, there is,” says he,—“Well but the rest of your Dream——” - -“That’s all, Sir.” - -“_All?_” cries he. - -“Yes, Sir; only that we went on walking and walking, and the Garden was -so mighty pleasant.” - -“Why, you told me there was Something wonderful in it!” says he. - -I said it _had_ seemed wonderful at the Time—— - -“That there was _not_ a Kiss behind the Garden-gate,” says he, laughing. -“O fie, _Cherry_!” - -I felt quite ashamed; and said it was very silly to tell Dreams, or to -believe in them. - -“Why, yes,” said he seriously, “it _is_ foolish to believe in the -disjointed Images thrown together by a distempered Fancy; though -aforetime it oft pleased our HEAVENLY FATHER to communicate his Will to -his Servants through the Avenues of their sleeping Senses. How should -you and I be walking in a Garden together? There are no Gardens in -_Whitechapel, Cherry_. In _Berkshire_, indeed, my Brother the Squire has -a Garden something like what you describe, full of Roses, Pinks, and -Gilly-flowers, with great, flourished iron Gates, and broad, turfen -Walks, and Arbours, like green Wigs, and clipped Hedges full of Snails, -and Ponds full of Fish. If I go down there to get well, _Cherry_, as -peradventure I may, for I shall want setting up again before I’m fit for -Work—(I’ve fallen away till I’m as thin as _Don Quixote_!) I’ll ask his -Wife to invite you down, _Cherry_, to see the Garden; and then we’ll -look up all those Flowers we were talking about.” - -“Thank you kindly, Sir,” said I, sorrowfully, “but I don’t think I can -go.... I must be looking for my Father.” - -“Your Father!” cries he, in Amaze. “Why, dear _Cherry_, I thought you -told me he was dead!” - -I tried to answer him, but could not, and fell a-sobbing. - -“Come,” says he, quite moved, “I want to hear all this sad Story.” - -When I was composed enough to tell it him, he listened with deep -Attention, and I saw a Tear steal down his Cheek. - -“_Cherry_,” says he at length, “you must give over hoping he will -return, my Dear. There is not a Likelihood of it. Consider how long a -Time has elapsed since he went forth; and how many, as dear to their -Families as your Father to you, have been cut off in the Streets at a -Moment’s Notice, and carried off to the Dead-pits before they were -recognised. For such awful Casualties the Good are not unprepared. -Instead of carrying back Infection and Desolation to his Home, and -lingering for Hours and Days in unspeakable Agonies, the good Man was -doubtless carried at once to the Bosom of his GOD.” - -Then he spake Words that killed Hope, and yet brought Healing; and after -weeping long and plentifully, I began to see Things as he did, and to -feel convinced I should see my Father’s Face no more: which, indeed, I -never did. - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - _Distinction between would & should_ - - -DORCAS, who continued very ill all this Day, began thereafter to amend, and -was able to take the sole Night-watch. But the Watchman would not let me -go forth, though he would send my Messages to _Violet_, and give me the -Packages of Clothing and so forth that _Violet_ sent me. However, one -Day a Doctor called, and gave as his Reason for not coming before, that -he had been ill himself. And he said both my Patients were in such a -fair Way of Recovery, that he thought in another Week I might leave the -House without Danger to myself or others, only attending to the proper -Fumigations. - -Master _Blower_ now sat up in his easy Chair, half wakeful, half dozing, -for he was too weak to read much. But he liked me to read to him, which -I did for Hours together; and the Subject-matter of the Book often gave -Rise to much pleasant Talk, insomuch that I began to be secretly and -selfishly sorry that the Time was so near at Hand when he would be well -enough to do without me. - -At other Times I got him to talk to me about the Country-house of his -Brother, the Squire, wherein he himself had been born, and had spent all -his boyish Days. And when I heard him tell about the little ivy-covered -Church, and the pretty Churchyard planted with Flowers, and the rustic -Congregation in their red Cloaks and white Frocks, and the Village Choir -with their Pipes and Rebecks, it seemed to me I would rather, a thousand -Times, be Vicar or even Curate of such a Place as that than have ever -such a large, grand Living in _Whitechapel_. And so I told him. - -At other Times I sat sewing quite silent by the Window, leaving him to -doze if he could; and sometimes I could see without looking up, that his -Eye would rest on me for a good While at a Time. I did not care a Pin -about it, and made as though I took no Notice. - -“_Cherry_,” says he, after one of these Ruminations, “what have the Men -been about that you have never got married?” - -I plucked up my Spirit on this; and, “Sir,” said I, “if you can tell me -of any suitable Answer I can possibly make to such a Question as that, -I’ll be much obliged to you for it, and will make Use of it!” - -“Well!” says he, “it _was_ a queer Question ... only, the Thing seems so -wonderful to me! Such a pretty Girl as you were when I first knew you!” - -“Ah, that was a long While ago, Sir,” said I, threading my Needle. - -“It was!” said he, decidedly; and then looking at me in an amused Kind -of Way, to see how I took it. “A long While ago, as you say, _Cherry_! -And, do you know, I think exactly the same of you now, that I did then!” - -“I am very much obliged to you, Sir,” said I; and went to make him a -Bread-pudding. - -Another Time, we fell to talking about the Awfulness of the Visitation, -which, he said, he feared would make no lasting Impression on the -People. And he spoke much about individual Sins helping to bring down -national Chastisements; and individual Intercessions and Supplications -inviting Forgiveness of general Transgressions; quoting _Daniel_, and -_Abraham_, and _Jeremiah_, “Run ye to and fro through the Streets of -_Jerusalem_, and see now and know, and seek in the broad Places thereof, -if ye can find a Man that executeth Judgment, that seeketh the Truth; -and I will pardon it.” - -Another Time, feeling weaker than common, he began to despond about -getting down to his Brother the Squire’s. I said, “Dear Sir, if you are -not equal to so long a Journey, you can come, for Change of Air, to your -old Quarters on the Bridge.” - -“Ah, _Cherry_,” said he, faintly smiling, “what would Folks say if I did -that?” - -“Why, what _should_ they say, Sir?” said I. - -“I’m not considering what they _should_ say,” said he; “what they -_would_ say, _Cherry_, would probably be, that I meant to marry you; or -ought to mean it.” - -I said I did not suppose they would or could say any such Thing; I being -so long known on the Bridge,—and he of his Years—— - -“Humph!” said he, “I am but forty-four! To hear you talk, one might -think I was a—” ... I forget what Sort of an Arian he called -himself,—“Do you know what that means, _Cherry_?” - -I said, I believed it was some Sort of a Dissenter. On which he laughed -outright; and said it meant sixty or seventy Years of Age, I forget -which. - -“And I’m not quite such an old Codger as that,” said he, “so I won’t -accept your kind Invitation, though I thank you heartily for it. But we -must not let our Good be evil spoken of.” - -All this was spoken in such a simple, genial, attaching Sort of a -Way,—for his Manners were always gentle and well-nurtured,—that it only -went to make me like him more and more, and think what a Privilege it -was to be thus in hourly Communion with Master _Blower_. - -Parting Time came at last. It was my own Fault if I left not that House -a wiser, better, and happier Woman. _Dorcas_ and I saw him start off for -_Berkshire_; and there was a Tear in my Eye, when he took my Hand to bid -me Farewell. - -“_Cherry_,” said he, still holding my Hand, and looking at me with great -Goodness and Sweetness, “I shall never forget that to you, under Heaven, -I owe my Life. And, by the Way, there is Something I have often thought -of naming to you, only that it never occurred to me at the proper Time -... a very odd Circumstance.—When I escaped to _Holland_, and, as some -People thought, was in Want of Money, I found seven gold Pieces in the -Inside of one of my Slippers! Who could have put them there, do you -think? Ah, _Cherry_!—There! GOD bless you!” - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - _Camping out in Epping Forest_ - - -WHEN I returned Home, my Neighbours looked strangely on me, as though I were -one risen from the Dead, after nursing two People through the Plague -without Hurt. I said not much, however, to any of them except to -_Violet_. - -When I had told her all I had to tell, she said, “Well, I think the Tale -ends rather flatly: you and Master _Blower_ might as well have made a -Match of it.” - -“Truly, _Violet_,” said I, “I think Women of our age may be capable of a -disinterested Action, without Question of Matchmaking.” - -“As to Women of _our_ Age,” retorted she, “speak for yourself, if you -please! You may make out yourself to be as old as you will; but I mean -to stick at Twenty-eight!” - -I said not another Word, but secretly wondered how strangely tender some -People are on the Subject of Age. Even Master _Blower_, who had owned to -Forty-four, did not like me to reckon him at Fifty. - -It was now quite the latter End of _October_, the Distemper was abating, -and People were beginning to venture back to their Homes, and a few -Shops were re-opened. _Hugh Braidfoot_ and his Family returned among the -rest. But too heedless an Exposure to the Infection yet lingering among -us caused the Distemper to rage again with great Fury before it abated -for good. - -I now kept myself close, and spent the Chief of the Day at my Needle or -Book, working much for the Poor, who were like enough to be destitute in -the Winter. First, however, I put on Mourning for my poor, dear Father, -whom I could not bear to deny this Mark of Remembrance, though the -Mortality being so great, People had quite left off wearing Black for -their Friends. Much he dwelt in my sad, solitary Thoughts; and when they -ran not on him, they chiefly settled on Master _Blower_. The more I -considered their Characters, the more Beauty I found in them. - -I never opened the Shop-shutters now, except for a little Light. Trade -was utterly stagnant; and my Father’s Business had dropped with him. The -little I might have done in the Perfumery Line, had the Town not been -empty, would not have been worth speaking of: it was a Mercy, therefore, -that my dear Father had left me well provided. - -One Evening, when it was getting too dusk to work or read, and I was -falling into a Muse, a tall Shadow darkened the Door, which happened to -be ajar, and the next Moment a Man whom I did not immediately recognise, -entered the Parlour and stepped up to me. - -“_Cherry!_ dear _Cherry_!” he said in a stifled Voice, and took me in -his Arms with a Brother’s Affection. It was poor _Mark_. - -“Dear _Mark_!” I said, “where _have_ you been? Oh, how often have I -thought of you!” - -“Aye, _Cherry_, well you might, and pray for me, too,” said he, somewhat -wildly. “Oh, what a Tale I have to tell you!—You will either hate or -despise me.” - -“You are ill, very ill,” said I, looking fearfully at his haggard Face; -“let me give you Something before you say another Word.” - -“Wine, then,” said he; and drank with avidity the Glass I poured out, -and then filled it again himself. “Thanks, dear _Cherry_!—will my Uncle -be coming in?” - -I looked at him and at my Dress, and could not speak; but there was no -need—“Ah!”—said he; and wrung my Hand, and then dropped it. - -[Illustration] - -“_Cherry_,” said he, after a Moment’s Pause, “you know how afraid I was -of the Plague, and how my Wife taunted me for it, and for taking the -commonest Precautions. She herself braved it, defied it; secure in her -Amulet and Fortune-telling. What was worse, she cruelly exposed her -Servants to it, for the merest Trifles. We had Words about it often: -bitter Words, at last—She accused me, utterly without Foundation, of -caring more for the Servant-girl than for her, reviled me for tempting -my own Fate by Fear; finally, said I should be no great Loss, for I had -never cared much for her, nor she for me. All this embittered me against -her. Well, the poor Maid caught the Plague at the Butchers’ Stalls, and, -the next Night, was in the Dead-cart. The following Day, our youngest -’Prentice died. The other decamped in the Night. I now became nearly Mad -with Fear and Anger; and, finding my Wife would not stir, or at least, -as she said, ‘not yet,’ I considered that Self-preservation was the -first Law of Nature; and, taking a good Supply of Money with me, I left -the House in the Night. Fear of being driven back was my sole Feeling -till I got clear out of _London_; then, I began to have an Impression I -had done wrong. But ’twas Death, ’twas Madness to think of turning back. -On I went.... - -“It had been my Impression, _Cherry_, that, with plenty of Money in my -Pocket, I could make my Way wherever I would; but now, in whatever -Direction I went, I came upon a Watchman, who, because I had no Clean -Bill of Health to show, would not let me pass. At length, after running -hither and thither, throughout the Night, I came upon a couple of Men, -with a small Cart and Horse. They seemed to be in the same Strait as -myself, and talked of fetching a Compass to _Bow_. I asked them to let -me join them, and they consented. They were a rough Sort of Fellows; one -it seemed had deserted his Mother, the other his Wife. Their Conduct, -and their brutal Way of talking of it, only made mine seem more ugly. - -“On _Bow Bridge_ the Watch would have questioned us, but we crossed the -Road into a narrow Way leading to _Old Ford_. Afterwards we got on to -_Homerton_ and _Hackney_, and at length into the northern Road. Here we -went on till we saw some Men running towards us; then we struck into a -Lane, halted at a Barn, and had some Bread and Cheese. The Food was -theirs, but I paid for my Share; and I saw them curiously eyeing my -Money. Afterwards they asked one or two Questions about my Resources, -which I did not much like. - -“Well, we kept on till we were many Miles from _London_, occasionally -dodging Villages and Constables. At Nightfall we reached the Skirt of a -Wood. Here my Companions proposed to sleep; but as soon as they were -fairly off, I stole away. I wandered a long Way from them in the Wood; -at length took refuge in a Cow-shed. I thought I heard Voices, not far -off, which made me uneasy; however, I was so tired that I fell asleep. - -“As soon as Day dawned, I made off; and, not knowing which Track to -take, went on at Random, till I came to a large old Barn. To my -Surprise, I heard some one praying within. I looked in, and saw, not -one, but a dozen Men, and two or three Women and Children. I stood -reverently aside till the old Man had done, and heard him pray that they -might all continue to be spared from the awful Visitation. When they -uncovered their Faces, I stept forward, on which there was a loud Cry, -and they warned me off. It was to no Use speaking, they would not hear -me as I had no Passport. Dispirited and hungry, I strayed away till I -came to the Skirt of the Wood, in Sight of a Cluster of Houses. I was -about to make for them, when three Men, with a Pitchfork, Bludgeon, and -Horsewhip, rushed upon me and collared me, saying, ‘Here’s one of -them!’—I struggled, and said, ‘One of whom? I belong to no Party, and am -a healthy, innocent Man.’ ‘That sounds well,’ said one of them, ‘but we -guess you are one of a Gang that, after threatening and intimidating our -Town yesterday, broke into a lone Farmhouse last Night; so we’ll take -you before a Magistrate.’ ‘Do so,’ said I, ‘for it will be better than -starving in the Wood, and I shall be able to clear myself.’ So, after a -Time, finding I made no Resistance, they gave over dragging me, and let -me walk by myself, only keeping close about me, with an ugly Bull-dog at -my Heels. However, I did not feel over-sure, _Cherry_, that my Story -would satisfy the Magistrate, so when we reached a small Public-house -where we found a Constable, I privately slipped a Half-crown into his -Hand, and he, after a little Parley, gave it as his Opinion that I was -an honest Man, whereon the others desisted from giving me in Charge. But -they would by no Means admit me into the House, only brought out some -Bread and Beer and set them at a Distance, and then went away while I -ate and drank. - -“There seemed nothing to do but to turn again into the Wood; and as I -was without Object, foot-sore, and spiritless, I paused at the first -inviting Spot I came to, and cast myself along under a Tree. Here I -suppose I slept a good While: when I awoke, it was with a strange Sense -of Depression, and it occurred to me I might be plague-stricken after -all. As if I could fly yet from the Distemper, if that were the Case, I -resolved to be moving; for I had no Mind to die like a Rat in a Hole. -Just then I heard Voices close on the other Side the Tree; and, eyeing -the Speakers between the Branches, could make out a numerous Band of Men -and a few Women, who were eating and drinking. I did not like their -Appearance much, and thought of retreating, when one of them, seeing me -stir, cries,—‘A Spy!’ and drags me into the Midst. I was pretty roughly -handled till they settled it to their Minds I was a harmless Sort of a -Fellow; and then they told me they would let me join the Crew if I would -cast my Lot among them, and put whatever I had about me into the common -Stock. I was no Ways minded to do this; however, I gave them a few -Shillings, which, after a little Demur, they took, and I then was free -of the Company. I soon had Reason to apprehend they were the Band who -had affrighted the Townsmen the Day before, and plundered the Farm in -the Night; and it seemed as if a select Council of them were concerting -Something of the Sort again, though they did not invite me to -participate. As this was not the Sort of Company I had any Mind to -associate with, I dragged through the Afternoon and Evening as well as I -could, mostly apart. They then began to put up Booths and Tents for the -Night, at which I was glad to assist, rather than do Nothing; but I lay -a little Way off, under a Tree. In the Night I felt some one lugging at -the little Parcel of Clothing I laid my Head upon.—I hit a Blow at -Random, which made whoever it was move off without a Word; and then I -thought it was Time for me to move off too. I got away unperceived, and -could not settle again all Night. When Day broke, I was in a Part of the -Forest that was new to me.... The Sun was shining on some gnarled old -Oaks, and along green Glades; there were Birds singing, Hares running -across the Grass, and Wildflowers overhanging a little Brook of clear -Water. Oh, _Cherry_! how I should have enjoyed idling in such a Place if -I had had a quiet Mind! - -“I drank some Water, and washed my Face; and just then I saw some Women -passing through the Trees, carrying large, country Loaves, and tin Cans -of Milk. They did not see me, but set down their Burthens near a large -Stone. Then they retreated and stood a little Way off, and presently, -two pretty-looking Girls came tripping out of the Wood, took up the -Loaves, emptied the Milk into brown Pitchers of their own, put some -Silver on the Stone, and cried, ‘Here’s your Money, good People!’” - -[Illustration] - -“Then they returned into the Wood, and I followed them. I said, ‘Shall I -carry one of your Pitchers?’ They looked affrighted, and cried, ‘Pray, -Sir, keep off ... how do we know that you may not have the Plague?’ I -said, ‘I assure you, it was to escape from the Plague that I came into -the Wood, and here I seem likely to starve, though I have Plenty of -Money.’ They looked at one another, and said, ‘If it be true, his Case -is hard,—let us tell my Father.’ They went away, and by and by an -elderly Man came to me from among the Trees. He questioned me very -narrowly, and satisfying himself at length that I was both sound and -respectable, he admitted me to their little Encampment, which consisted -of five or six little Huts, a Family in each; besides a few Cabins the -single Men had set up for themselves. I did the like, added my Stock to -theirs, and continued with them all the Time their Encampment lasted, -which was till Yesterday, when, the Weather turning cold, and the News -of the Abatement of the Distemper having reached us, we resolved to -return to our Homes.—I could make you quite in Love with our Camp Life, -_Cherry_, if I chose to enlarge upon some Things, and leave others out -of Sight,—in short, make it appear the Thing it was not. But, honestly -speaking, though we were very thankful to buy our Safety at the Price of -much Inconvenience, all the Romance of our Situation soon faded away, -and we were right glad to set our Faces homewards again, even without -being fully certified we could do so with Impunity.” - -“But, to what a Home did I return! The House was padlocked up, and -Everything in the Possession of the _Lord Mayor_. And, from a Watchman -out of Employ, who was taking Care of a House over the Way, and who did -not know me, I heard the Circumstances of my Wife’s frightful Death. Oh, -_Cherry_! we did not care for each other much; but I fear it was -cowardly and cruel of me to forsake her!” - -—And _Mark_ laid his Head on his Arms and wept. Presently he said, “What -to do, I know not. I shall be able, by Application to the _Lord Mayor_ -to-morrow, to get back my House and Property; but—to tell you the -Truth—I have no great Fancy to go back there; at any Rate, till the -House has been well fumigated. So that ... will you take Compassion on -me, and let me return awhile to my old Quarters, _Cherry_?” - -Of course I said I would. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - _Ghosts_ - - -IT was now Supper-time; and _Mark_, having lessened the Sense of his -Troubles by telling of them, although he began by thinking he could not -eat a Mouthful, ended by making a very hearty Supper. Indeed, he so much -commended the one or two simple Dishes set upon Table, and spoke so -strongly, though briefly, on the Subject of good and bad Cookery, that, -as it had been his Disposition to be contented with Anything that was -set before him in his unmarried Days, I set it all down to the -Discomfort of his late Life in the Forest. Afterwards I was disposed to -change my Mind about this, and to decide that Mistress _Blenkinsop_, who -in their early married Days had pampered and petted him amazingly, -(whereby his good Looks had suffered no little,) had really destroyed -the simple Tastes which were once so becoming in him, and had made him -Something of an Epicure. - -After the Table was cleared, he drew near me again, and with real -Concern in his Manner, pressed me to tell him about my Father. I did so -from first to last, with many Tears; adding thereunto my nursing of -Master _Blower_. He sighed a good many Times as I went on, and after I -had done; exclaiming at last, “What a Difference between you and me!” - -“All People have not the same Qualifications,” said I. - -“No,” said he, and seemed to think I had now hit the right Nail on the -Head. - -“And _Violet_——” said he, after a Pause, and colouring deeply. “Is she -quite well, _Cherry_?” - -“Quite,” I said; and could think of Nothing more to say. - -“I wonder,” said he in a low Voice, as if he were almost afraid to hear -the Echo of his own Thoughts, “whether she would now have Anything to -say to me?” - -I said, looking away from him, “Such Questions as that should only be -put to the Parties concerned.” - -“You are right,” said he; and sat a long While silent, leaning his Head -upon his Hand. At length, he said, “I am rich now, and she is poor, -_Cherry_.” - -I said, “Riches and Poverty don’t make much Difference, _Mark_, when -People really love one another.” - -“As I have loved—” said he. - -I said, “It is Bed-time now, and here is _Dolly_ coming in to Prayers.” - -The next Morning, he said he must go to the _Lord Mayor_ about his -House. For the abandoned Effects of such Families as were entirely swept -away and left no known Heirs, went to the _King_, who made them over to -the _Lord Mayor_ and _Aldermen_, to be applied to the Use of the Poor; -and _Mark’s_ Absence had made it appear that his Property was in that -Case. - -Soon after he was gone, the uncommon, and, I may almost say, -unparalleled Event occurred to me of receiving a Letter; I was so -surprised at the Circumstance, that for the Moment, I thought it must be -_from my Father_; or, at least, to tell me he was alive. But no, it was -from Master _Blower_; and this was what he put in it: - -[Illustration] - - “_Bucklands Hall, Berks._ - “_Oct. 27, 1665._ - - “Dear Mistress _Cherry_, - - “On first coming down here, I was so ill at Ease and out - of Sorts, as to require much Care and Nursing. Heaven be - praised, I am now well, and I hope you are the same. Though the - Pinks and Gilly-flowers are pretty well over, there are still - some gay Autumn Flowers in the old Garden with the Iron Gate; - and my Brother, the Squire, and his good Wife want to see the - brave Mistress _Cherry_ who nursed me through the Plague. So - come down to us, dear _Cherry_, to-morrow, if you can. _John_, - the Coachman (a steady Man), will be at your Door, with a white - Horse and a Pillion, at Seven o’ the Clock. And be so good, if - it will not be inconvenient to you, as to bring my Sister-in-Law - a little Mace and green Ginger; and also (on my Account) one of - those Saffron-cakes they used to be so famous for at the Bridge - foot. - - “Your faithful and obliged Friend, - - “NATHANAEL BLOWER. - - “If you don’t come, you must write.” - -Here was an Event! An Invitation to the Country was a still more -startling Occurrence than the Receipt of a Letter. Many of the -Circumstances connected with it were delightful; but then, it seemed so -strange, so awful, to go to stay with People I had never seen, ... such -grand People, too! I that was so unused to fine Company, and did not -know how to behave!—And Master _Blower_ knew all this, knew exactly what -I was, and yet had prevailed with them to say they should be happy to -see me!—Oh, his Goodness of Heart had this Time carried him too far! -They had said so just to please him, without expecting I should go!—And -yet, if the Lady were _very_ much put to it for Mace and green -Ginger.... And if Master _Blower’s_ Heart were very much set upon giving -her the Saffron-cake.... I supposed I had better go. If I found myself -very much out of Place, I could come away the next Day. - -Then I thought I would go and consult _Violet_; for, in Fact, I wanted a -little persuading to do what I very much liked. So I stepped across the -Bridge. The Shop was open, but nobody was in it; so I went to the -Parlour Door, and opened it. - -Directly I had done so, I saw _Violet_ and _Mark_, sitting close -together, their Backs to me, and his Arm round her Waist. I closed the -Door so softly that they did not know it had been opened, and went Home. -A Pang shot through my Heart. It was entirely on their own Accounts, for -I had ceased, for Years, to have Anything but a most sisterly Concern in -him; and his Character, compared with those of the People I had most -loved, failed to stand the Test: but I thought this was too quick, too -sudden, to be quite comely or decent; there was too much Passion, too -little Self-respect. - -I now made up my Mind without any more Hesitation, that I would go into -the Country. I gave my parting Directions to _Dolly_, and desired her to -let _Mark_ have Things comfortable. Then I made up my little -Travelling-equipage, not forgetting my Commissions. Being in fresh, -well-made Mourning, there was no Trouble or Anxiety about Dress. I quite -enjoyed the pleasing Bustle of Preparation, though I did not expect to -be absent longer than a Week. - -_Mark_ was not very punctual to the Supper-hour; and as he said Nothing -of his Visit over the Way, I was to conclude him all Day at my _Lord -Mayor’s_ or in _Cheapside_. But the deep Carmine of his Cheek and the -burning Light of his Eye, told Tales. I asked him if he had dined. He -carelessly replied yes, with a Friend. I asked him if he had seen the -_Lord Mayor_. He said yes, it had been a more troublesome Business than -he expected: they had asked him so many searching Questions, and had got -the whole Story out of him. He feared he had cut a sorry Figure. At any -Rate, he had in his own Sight. Then I asked him whether he had got back -his House. He said yes, and had put an old Woman into it, who had -undertaken to fumigate it. Everything seemed sealed up, but he could not -help fearing many Things were gone. The old Place looked so dismal, he -came away as soon as he could. - -After a Pause, he said, “_Cherry_, I feel a strong Inclination to get -rid of that Concern altogether. The Situation is capital, and I shall -get Something for the Business; but I have a great Mind to set up -somewhere else; and though your Father’s was a much smaller Business -than ours, yet my happiest Hours have been passed under this Roof; and -if you like to give up the Shop to me, I will give for it whatever I get -for my own. And you can still live with us.... I mean, we can still live -here together. What say you, _Cherry_?” - -I said, “Dear _Mark_, I have no Wish to receive for these Premises what -you get for your own. The Shop you are welcome to; the Business you will -have to remake for yourself, for it has dwindled quite away; I shall be -very glad to continue to live with you as long as you like to have me.” - -“We ... I shall _always_ like to have you, _Cherry_,” said he, “for -there is only one Person dearer to me in the whole World.” - -“My Father has left me so comfortably provided,” said I, “that I shall -never need to be a Burthen on any one.” - -“I am glad of it for your own Sake,” returned he; “but, as to my taking -up the Business without paying for it, that is not to be thought of. -Whatever I get for mine, you shall have for yours.” - -“So let it stand at present, at any Rate,” said I. “Henceforth, the Shop -is yours. And, _Mark_, you will have the whole House to yourself -to-morrow, for I am going into the Country.” - -“Where?” said he, opening his Eyes very wide. - -“To _Bucklands Hall_, in _Berkshire_; to stay with Master ... with -Squire and Mistress _Blower_.” - -A broad Smile spread over his Face. “I am very glad indeed to hear of -it, _Cherry_,” said he.—“_Very_ glad of it.” - -Afterwards, as we sat chatting over our Supper, we got on the Subject of -Ghosts. He asked me if I believed in them. I said no. - -“Well, I do,” said he, sighing. And told me of a Story he had had from -the Servant of Sir _Richard Hart_, who, travelling with his Master, had -been summoned by him early one Morning, and charged to ride Home with -all Speed, a Distance of seventeen Miles, and see how fared his -Daughter, whom he conceited to have seen in the Night, standing at his -Bed-foot, with her Hand pressed to her Head. The Man rode back as he was -told; and returned with the News that the young Lady had indeed been -taken ill about four o’Clock that Morning, but had had a Doctor with -her, and was now pretty well again. However, in the Course of the Day -she died. - -I said, “Her Father, in a Dream, may have had so strong an Impression he -was waking, that to him it had all the Effect of being awake.” - -“But such a Dream as should so raise the Dead, or pre-figure their -Death, _Cherry_,” said _Mark_, “would be as bad as if they _were_ -raised—to _us_.... I think I, for one, could not stand it.” And I saw -then why he was afraid to return to his own House. - -We talked the Matter quietly over for some Time; and I asked him why, if -the Course taken by Divine Providence in the Administration of human -Affairs ever admitted of the Re-appearance of the Dead, the recorded -Cases of such supposed Appearances should only be to frighten some timid -Person, restore a Bag of Gold, or acquaint some one with what they would -otherwise know a few Hours after. This appeared to strike him; but he -said it might be for the Sake of Warning. I said, If for Warning, why -not for Comfort? How glad should I have been, for Instance, to be -informed supernaturally that all was well with my Father? He said, not -_that_ Way, surely. I replied yes, that Way or any Way that it had -pleased the ALMIGHTY to vouchsafe me such Knowledge. I should not be -afraid (and there was an Intensity of Earnestness in me as I said it) to -see either him or my Mother, either in or out of the Body. - -“Well,” muttered he, half under his Breath, “I wish I could feel as much -with regard to my Wife.” And, regarding me with some Earnestness, added, -“You’re a bold little Thing, _Cherry_!” - -As I wished him Good-night, he stayed me for a Moment, and said, with -all his old Frankness and Trust, “_Violet_ and I have made Things out -between us, _Cherry_.” - -I said fervently, “Then, may you both be happy. My Belief is, that she -is likelier to make you happy now, than she was before.” - -“Not quite so pretty, though,” said he, rather regretfully. “However, I -don’t mind that.—For, you see, _Cherry, I love her_!” - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - _Riding a Pillion_ - - -DOLLY and I had spent great Part of the Afternoon in brushing up and -cleaning an old black riding Skirt of my Mother’s, which it was a Wonder -I had not cut up into Garments for the Poor. When we had cleaned it with -Hollands, and ironed it nicely, it looked very well; for our House was -so airy, that our Clothes never had the Moth. - -Precisely at the Hour named, an old Man in purple Livery rode up to the -Door, on a grey Horse with a Pillion. _Mark_, who was very lively this -Morning, told me he thought the Horse looked like a Bolter; but I knew -he was only laughing at me. Then he asked me how I meant to mount; I -said, with a Chair, to be sure. He said, “Nonsense!” and lifted me up in -a Moment, and arranged my Riding-skirt as nicely as if he had been a -Lady’s Groom. Then he told the old Man to be careful of me; but the old -Coachman proved to be both dull and deaf, by reason of great Age; so -_Mark_ whispered me that he was not afraid of his running away with me, -if the Horse did not; finishing with “Good-bye, _Mistress Blower_.” - -I gave him an indignant Look, and said, “For shame, _Mark_! I have not -deserved that!” - -“Well,” said he, “_I_ think you _have_.” And just then the old Man -jerked the Rein of the old Horse, which moved off so suddenly, that I -was fain to catch hold of the old Man’s Coat; and the last Glance I had -of _Mark_ was a merry one. - -At first I felt a little bit frightened; but soon got used to my new -Position; especially as the Horse walked till we were off the Stones. -Still we seemed a long while getting out of _London_; and we met a great -many People returning to it, in Carts, Waggons, and Coaches. - -At length we got quite out of Town, and between green Hedges, with Trees -beyond them that were turning all manner of Colours; with only a House -here and there, or a Wayside Inn. At one of the latter we stopped in the -middle of the Day, to rest the Horse, and take some Refreshment. Then we -continued our Journey, which lasted till Sunset, and the latter Part of -which was mighty pleasant and delightsome; only I was beginning to be a -little weary with so much shaking. But, when I saw how charming a Place -the Country was, I wondered how People could live in Towns ... unless on -a Bridge. - -At length we turned off the Highway into a Bye-road, shaded with tall -Trees, which, after a Mile or two, brought us to a straggling Village; -and, says the Coachman, “Mistress, now we’s in _Bucklands_.” Presently -we passed the absolutest curiosity of a little old Church!... it seemed -hardly bigger than a Nutmeg-grater!—and hard by it, the old Parsonage, -with three Stone Peaks in front, and a great Pear-Tree before the Door. - -Then we came to a Village Green, with a Clump of large Trees in the -Midst, that had Seats round them, whereon sat old Men, while young Men -played Cricket, and little Boys were setting a Puppy to bark at some -white Geese. Here we came to a great Iron Gate, at which stood a hale, -hearty-looking Gentleman about fifty; square-built, and not over-tall; -with a good-humoured, red, mottled Face. And, says he, coming up to me, -as we stopped, “Mistress _Cherry_, I’m Squire _Blower_. I can guess who -you are, though my Brother did not tell me you were such a pretty -Girl.—Oh, the Sinner!” And lifted me off the Horse. - -“Well,” says he, “you don’t look quite sure that I’s I.... I _am_, -though! Certainly, not much like _Nat_, who was always the Beauty of the -Family. Ah! now you laugh, which was just what I wanted. My Brother said -your silver Laugh saved his Life;—do you know what he meant by that?” - -We were now walking up a strait gravel Walk, between clipped Hedges, to -an old red-brick House, with stone Facings. “I suppose, Sir,” said I, -after thinking a little, “he meant that my laughing was as good as -Silver to him, because it saved him the Doctor.” - -“That was it, no doubt,” returns he; “just such an Answer, Mistress -_Cherry_, as I expected. I see we shall get on very well together, -though _Nat_ is not here to help the Acquaintance.—He has gone to see -his old Foster-mother, who is dying. People _will_ die, you know, when -they get to eighty or ninety.” - -[Illustration: - - An old red-brick House -] - -We were now going up a Flight of shallow Steps, with Stone Ballusters, -which led us into a Hall, paved with great Diamonds of black and white -Marble, and hung about with Guns, Fishing-rods, and Stag’s Horns. An -Almanack and King _Charles’s_ golden Rules were pasted against the Wall; -and a stuffed Otter in a Glass Case hung over the great Fire-place, -where a Wood-fire burned on the Hearth. - -Before this Wood-fire was spread a small _Turkey_ Carpet; and on the -Carpet stood a Table and four heavy Chairs; in one of which sat an old -Lady knitting. The Squire bluntly accosted her with “Mother, here’s -Mistress _Cherry_;” on which she said, “Ho!”—laid down her Knitting, and -looked hard at me; first over, and then through her Spectacles. - -“Hum!” says she, “Mistress _Cherry_, you are welcome. A good Day to you. -Pray make yourself at Home, and be seated.” - -So I sat down over against her, and we looked at each other very stiff. -She was short and fat, with round blue Eyes, and a rosy Complexion; and -had a sharper, shrewder Look than the Squire. - -“I dare say she’s hungry, Mother,” says the Squire; “give her a Piece of -Gingerbread or Something.—How soon shall we have Supper?” - -“You are always in such a Hurry, Father, to be eating;” says his Lady. -“Forsooth, are we not to wait for your Brother?” - -And without waiting for his Answer, she took a bunch of Keys from her -Apron-string, and unlocked a little Corner-cupboard, from which she -brought me a Slice of rich Seed-cake, and a large Glass of Wine. - -“Thank you, Madam; I am not hungry,” said I. - -“Pooh! Child, you must be;” returns she, rather authoritatively. “Never -be afraid of eating and drinking before Company, as if it were a Crime!” - -So, thus admonished, I ate and drank: though I would as lief have waited -a little. - -“Are you stiff with your Ride?” says she. - -“A little, Madam,” said I; “for I was ne’er on a Horse before.” - -“Is it possible,” cries she, bursting out a-laughing. “Father, did you -hear that?” - -“Famous!” said he; and they eyed me as if I were a Curiosity. - -“Do you know, now,” says the Squire’s Lady to me, after a while, “I -never was in _Lunnon_!” - -“That seems as strange to me, Madam,” said I, “as it seems to you that I -should never have been on Horseback.” - -“It _is_ strange,” says she. “Both are strange.” - -“And now _I’ll_ tell you Something that is strange,” says the Squire, -“since we all seem surprising one another. Do you know, Mistress -_Cherry_,” stepping up behind his Wife, and laying a Hand on each of her -Shoulders, while he spoke to me over her Head, “that this little -round-about Woman was once as pretty a Girl as you are?” - -“Stuff! Squire,” says his Lady. - -“Fact!” persisted he. “Nay, prettier!” - -“Not a Word of Truth in it,” says she, shaking him off. “I was all very -well,—nothing more. Come, Father, here’s _Gatty_ going to spread the -Cloth for Supper, which you’ll be glad of. But, _Gatty_, in the first -Place shew Mistress _Cherry_ to her Chamber, ... she will perhaps like -to dress a little. You’ll excuse my attending you, my Dear; the Stairs -try my Breath.” - -I followed _Gatty_ up Stairs to the prettiest Room that ever was! When I -came down, the Cloth was spread, and the Squire’s Lady signed me to the -Chair over against her, and was just going to say Something, when, -crossing between me and the Sun, I saw the Shadow of a Man against the -Wall, and knew it for Master _Blower’s_. Ah! what came over me at that -Moment, to make me so stupid, I know not.—Perhaps that saucy Saying of -_Mark’s_ ... but whatever it was, instead of my going up to Master -_Blower_, when he came in, which he did the next Moment, and asking him -simply and straitforwardly how he was, I must needs colour all over like -a Goose, and wait till he came quite up to me, without having a Word to -say for myself. - -“Ah, _Cherry_!” says he, taking my Hand quite frankly, “how glad I am to -see you! Are you quite well?” - -And, the Moment I heard his pleasant Voice, I was quite comfortable -again, and felt myself at Home for the first Time. - -“Quite, thank you, Sir,” said I, “and I hope you are better than you -were.” - -“Well, now that civil Things have passed on both Sides,” said the -Squire, who had already seated himself, “come and say Grace, _Nat_, for -here’s a Couple of beautiful Fowls getting cold.” - -—Well, the Supper was as pleasant as could be, and it was growing quite -dusk before the Table was cleared, yet the Squire would not hear of -having Candles; so then his Lady desired _Gatty_ to carry Lights into -the green Parlour, “Where,” says she, “I and this young Person will -retire, and be good enough Company for each other, I dare say.” - -Oh, I’m a young Person, am I? thought I. So I followed her into the -green Parlour, where she settled herself in an easy Chair, with her Feet -on a Footstool, and made me sit facing her. “Now,” says she, “the Men -can prose by themselves, and we’ll have a Coze by _our_selves. Pray, -Child, how was it you came to think of nursing my Brother?” - -So I began to tell her how I went to him in Hope of his telling me how -to find my Father; but then, she wanted to know how my Father came to be -missing, so I had to go further back. And then I could not help putting -in by the Way how good and excellent a Man he was, how tender a Father, -how loving a Husband, which brought in my Mother. But I checked myself, -and begged the Lady’s Pardon for entering on that, which I knew could no -Ways interest her.—“Nay, let me hear it all,” says she, “I shall like to -hear Something about your Mother.” So then I told her of her holy Life, -and saintlike End; and of Master _Blower’s_ invaluable Ministrations, -which of course interested her a good deal; and indeed I saw a Tear -steal down her Cheek, while I kept mine down as well as I could. Then I -went on to the Plague, and my Father’s Heaviness of Spirits; and his -going forth and never coming back, and my going in quest of him, and all -the Events of that terrible Day, which I could not go over without -crying very heartily. She wept too; yet cried, “Go on, go on!” So then I -got to Master _Blower_, and the sleeping Watchman, and my getting into -the House, and going from Room to Room, and hearing him yawn,—which made -her laugh; though she cried again when she heard of his praying, and of -his Sufferings that fearful Night and many Days after. At the End of -all, she got up, put her Arms about my Neck, and kissed me. “_Cherry_,” -says she, “you’re an excellent Creature!”—Just then, a great Bell began -to ring,—“That’s the Prayer-bell!” says she. “We will return to the -Hall, my Dear.” - -So we returned to the Hall, much more at our Ease together than when we -left it. And there, standing in a Row, were half a Dozen Men and Women -Servants, and the Table had Candles and a large Bible on it. Master -_Blower_ read, and then prayed: had I not been so tired, I could have -wished him to go on all Night! Then we dispersed to our several -Chambers; and I had so much to think about that it seemed as though I -should never get to sleep: however, I did at last. - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - _The Squire’s Garden_ - - -BEFORE I went to Bed, I peeped out of my Window, and saw the full Moon -shining over the broad gravel Walks and Fishponds; and I thought how -much I should like to go round the Garden before Breakfast. However, -when I woke in the Morning, I feared I had been oversleeping myself, so -dressed in a great Hurry, and went down Stairs. There I found two Maids -flooding the great Hall with Pails of Water, and they told me we were to -breakfast in the green Parlour, but not for an Hour yet. So I strayed -out into the Garden, where were still a good many Flowers, though the -Season was so late, backed by Evergreen Hedges, and Rows of tall Trees -that were turning yellow and scarlet; and it seemed to me just like the -Garden of _Eden_. - -So I went on and on, thinking it mighty pleasant, and wondering what -might be the Names of some of the Flowers; and at length I came to a -Bowling-green, of wonderful fine Turf, between high Horn-beam Hedges; -and having a Sun-dial at one End, and a little brick Summer-house faced -with Stone at the other. Into the Summer-house I went; and there, with -all his Books and Papers about him, sat Master _Blower_ writing. - -[Illustration: - - A Bowling-Green of wonderful Fine Turf. -] - -“Ah, _Cherry_!” says he, holding out his Hand, “so you’ve found out my -Snuggery! Have they sent you to summon me to Breakfast?” - -“No, Sir,” said I, “I did not know you were here.” And turned away. - -“Stop a Minute,” says he, hastily putting up his Papers, “and we will -take a Turn together round this wonderful Garden. The Garden of your -_Dream, Cherry_.” - -I said how very odd it was I should have dreamed about it,—the Garden of -my Dream being so exactly like the Reality. - -“Why, you simple Girl,” says he, laughing; “because I must have -described it to you before, though you and I had forgotten it!” - -I felt quite sure in my own Mind that he had not. - -“Well,” says he, setting out with me along the Bowling-green, “what’s -the News, _Cherry_? The Plague, you say, is abating, but not gone. Have -you seen or heard Anything of my poor People?” - -I said yes. Mistress _Peach_ had come to me on my sending for her the -Evening before I left; and had told me how Things were going on. - -“And how _are_ they going on?” said he. - -“Well, Sir, it would be a poor Compliment to you, if they were going on -as well in your Absence, as in your Presence.” - -“That’s true,” says he, looking grave; “but, for Particulars.” - -“Many Persons in Trouble of one kind or another, knock at your Door; and -when they find they cannot see you, go away in Tears.” - -“Poor Souls!” said he, much moved, “I will return to them shortly. I -think I am almost well enough now, _Cherry_. They think I am neglecting -them?” - -“No, Sir, they are very sorry you need recruiting; but they are sorry -for themselves too.” - -“It’s a very nice Point,” says he musingly, “when we ought to lie by. I -believe, had I not left Town when I did, I might have been dead now—and -yet, perhaps I was like a Soldier deserting his Post.” - -I said, “No, Sir, you were liker to a Soldier carried off the -Battlefield to the Hospital.” - -“Thank you, _Cherry_,” says he, taking my Hand and drawing it under his -Arm. We had now reached the End of the Bowling-green; but instead of -turning into the Garden, we continued walking up and down. - -“And what else?” says he. “Come, let me hear all.” - -“Well, Sir,” said I, “there’s not much more to tell——” - -“Something, though, I can see!” said he. “Come! out with it, _Cherry_!” - -“Sir,” said I, “it’s of no Use for us to trouble and vex ourselves about -what wicked People will say of us in mere wantonness.” - -“Sometimes, though, we may hear the Truth from an Enemy,” says he. “And -what do wicked, wanton People say of me?” - -“Why, Sir,—some very evil-minded, malapert Person hath writ on your -Church-door, ‘A Pulpit to Let!’” - -[Illustration: - - The Squire’s Garden -] - -“The Rascal!” said he hastily, and colouring very red. “Why now, did I -not keep on, Sabbaths and Week-days, till the Plague-swellings were -actually in my Throat, though my Congregation often consisted of only -two or three old Women? Is not this enough to provoke a Man, _Cherry_?” - -I said, “Yes, Sir,—only there’s no Use in being provoked.” - -“None, none,” says he, much perturbed,—“GOD forgive me for it!—I can -hardly have Patience, though, with them.” - -I said, “Dear Sir, you must have Nothing _but_ Patience with them.” - -“You are right, you are right,” says he, cooling, but still much moved. -“Ill or well, I must go back to them forthwith.... The Fact is, there is -a Matter I would gladly have settled here, a little at my Leisure.—But, -Duty before all! So, I’ll go back, _Cherry_, to mine.” - -I smiled a little as I said, “Somebody has been doing Duty for you, the -last Week or ten Days, Sir.” - -“Who?” cried he. - -I said, “An Independent Minister.” - -A complex Kind of Expression crossed his Face; for a Moment he looked -pained and provoked, and then burst out a-laughing. - -“GOD bless the worthy Fellow!” cries he, “I’ll do him a good Turn if I -can, the first Time he’ll let me! ‘The good LORD accept every one that -prepareth his Heart to seek GOD, the LORD GOD of his Fathers, even -though he be not cleansed according to the Purification of the -Sanctuary!’—Well, _Cherry_, I must go! and that forthwith,—I would fain -have tarried here while your Visit lasted.” - -I looked quite blank at the Idea of being left behind; and said, “Must -I, then, stay?” - -“Why,” cried he, “what is to prevent you? Your Visit is not to _me, -Cherry_!” - -I said, “Oh, Sir, but ...” and stopped, for I did not know whether it -were right to say I should feel so lonely without him. But the Tears -came into my Eyes. - -“I hope,” says he, in his kindest Way, “you will stay and have a very -pleasant Visit.” - -I said, “It won’t,—it can’t be pleasant now.” - -“_Cherry_,” he said, yet more affectionately, “we shall soon meet -again.... You shake your Head.—Well, our Lives are not in our own -keeping, certainly, and may be called in the next Minute, here as well -as in _London_. And I should not like to die away from my Post. But, -_Cherry_, since you are inexpressibly dear to me, and I think I am, in a -less Degree, dear to you, why, when we meet next, should we ever part -again?—Nay, hear me, _Cherry_! for I have long meant to say this, though -not quite so soon.... I thought it would seem so abrupt; I wanted to -bring you to it by Degrees, lest I should get an Answer I did not like. -For, indeed, _Cherry_, I know how much too old I am for you, how -thoroughly unworthy of you.” - -I could not stand this, and cried, “Oh, how _can_ you say such Things, -Sir! Unworthy of _me_, indeed! when any Woman——” - -Might be proud to have you, was my Thought, but I did not say it. - -“_Cherry_,” says he, “there was never——” And just at that Moment a Man -shouted, “High!” at the Top of his Voice, and then, “Breakfast!” - -“We’re keeping them waiting,” said I, slipping my Hand from his Arm, -“and you’ve left your Papers all blowing about in the Summer-house.” And -so, ran off to the House. - -Fain would I not have gone straight to Breakfast, but there was no Help -for it; and the Squire kept loading my Plate, and yet saying I ate -Nothing. He and his Lady were wondrous sorry to hear Master _Blower_ say -he must return to Town the next Day; and looked rather askance at me for -having brought down any Tidings that should summon him thither. After -Breakfast, however, he took his Brother aside to explain to him how -needful was his Return to his Parish; and Mistress _Blower_, bringing -forth an immense Quantity of Patchwork of very intricate Contrivance, -said, “Now, you and I will do a good Morning’s Work:”—and told me it was -a Fancy of hers to furnish a little Bed-chamber with Patchery, lined -with Pink, and fringed with White. However, Master _Blower_ put a Check -to all this, as far as my Help went, by coming in and saying that as -this was to be his last Day in the Country, he wanted to take a long -Walk with me, and shew me the finest View in the County. Mistress -_Blower_ made one or two Objections, which he summarily over-ruled; so, -in a very few Minutes, off we were walking together. And first, without -any Reference to what had been said before Breakfast, he took me round -the Village Green, and into the Church and Churchyard; and made me look -over the Parsonage Gate. I said, “Dear me, if I were you, Sir, how much -sooner I would be Parson here than in _Whitechapel_!” - -“Would you?” cries he. “Oh, but this is a very poor Living!” - -I said, “I did not know you cared much for Money.” - -“Well,” he said, “not to spend on myself, but as a Means of Usefulness. -And, oh _Cherry_! there is so much Wretchedness in _London_, that one -cannot, after all, relieve!—I’ll tell you what I do,” continues he, -turning down a green Lane with me, “as a general Rule I give away half. -That was _Zaccheus’_ Measure, you know. But, as a single Man, I have -found the other Half a great deal too much for me, so I give away all I -can of it in Casualties ... just to please myself, as it were. But I -don’t consider this Sub-division imperative; therefore, when you and I -commence Housekeeping together, which I hope will be in a _very_ little -While, we will spend the full Half. Will that suffice you?” - -“No indeed, Sir,” said I, “I shall be very sorry indeed if I add to your -Expenses so much as that. I would rather give the Poor another Mouthful -than deprive them of one; and as I shall only cost you just what I eat -and wear, I hope it won’t make much Difference.” - -“You’re a comical Girl,” says he. “But, _Cherry_, I’m sorry to say, that -rambling old House of mine is now so completely out of Repair, as to be -unfit for a Lady’s Occupation. We must paint it and point it, and mend -the Roof.” - -“Well, but,” said I, “my Father has left me six hundred Pounds, which -will do all that very well.” - -“Six hundred Pounds!” says he, opening his Eyes very wide, and then -laughing. “Why, you’ve a Fortune, _Cherry_! How could the dear, good Man -have saved it? I thought his Business seemed quite dwindled away.” - -“He had some Money with my Mother, Sir,” said I. “And an Uncle left him -a Legacy. Besides this Money, which Master _Benskin_ and Master -_Braidfoot_ pay Interest for, the House is mine for a long Term; and -_Mark_ means to buy the Business; so that I hope I shall not be very -expensive to you.” - -“Well,” says he, “it will be for After-consideration whether we repair -the Parsonage at once or not. All shall be as you wish it, _Cherry_.” -And then we went on talking of this and that till we came to a Seat -under a Tree; and there we sat and talked all the Rest of the Morning; -for he did not care much for going on to see the Prospect. - -After Dinner, it became Master _Blower’s_ Object to persuade me to name -a very early Day indeed—even that Day Week; and, though I could hardly -endure to think of so sudden a Change, and thought it would seem so -strange and so unwomanly to Everybody, yet the main Thing that wrought -upon me was what I kept to myself; namely, the Danger he was going to -incur in returning to his Duties before the Infection was over. And I -thought how I should reproach myself if he fell ill, and died for want -of my Nursing. But then, again, it would seem so outrageous to the -Squire and his Lady.... Not at all, he said, they knew all about his -wanting to marry me before ever they sent for me, and the Squire’s Lady -had at first been very cool about it; but before we parted at Night, I -had quite won her over; and she said to him when the Door closed upon -me, “Well, _Nat_, you may marry that Girl as soon as you like.” - -I could hardly help laughing.—What was I to do? I said, oh, very well, I -supposed they must all have their own Way,—I would try to be not very -miserable about it. So, when we went in to Supper, Master _Blower_ made -no Secret of what we had been talking about; and Mistress _Blower_ -kissed me, and so did the Squire, and we had a wonderful pleasant -Supper. When Master _Blower_ was taking leave of me, he asked me if I -had any Message to send Home. It then struck me I must send Word to -_Mark_ and _Dolly_ how soon my Condition was going to be changed,—but, -what could I say?—I had scarce written a Letter in my Life; least of all -to _Mark_; and could not for the Life of me think of any Way of telling -him the News, sufficiently round-about to prevent its seeming abrupt -after all. So, thought I, least said, soonest mended: and, sitting down -to Pen, Ink, and Paper, I wrote in my smallest, neatest Hand,— - - “Dear _Mark_, - - “I’m going to be Mistress _Blower_.” - -And sealed it up and directed it. Master _Blower_ said, “Short, if not -sweet!” and promised it should be faithfully delivered. - -When he was gone, the Patchwork was put away, and the Wedding-dresses -sent for. Dear Mistress _Blower_ was as kind as a Mother to me, though -her Husband was only five Years older than mine. Indeed she and the -Squire looked upon me quite as a Girl, though I told them over and over -again I was not. Though they called each other Father and Mother, they -had never had but one Child, which died at three Years old; but I -suppose it was always in their Thoughts. - -What a happy Week that was!—though Master _Blower_ was away. On the -Whole, his Absence was a good Thing: it gave me Time to steady a little, -and feel that it was not a Dream that I was going to live always within -the Sound of his dear Voice. And, as there was much Sewing to do, I had -Plenty of Time to think of it. Mistress _Blower_ gave me my -Wedding-clothes,—we had Post-horses to the old Coach, and went to buy -them at the County Town. The Gown was white Silk; the Hat trimmed with a -Wreath of very little pink Roses round the Crown; and I had a -cherry-colour Habit for travelling. Master _Blower_ said he did not -deserve such a pretty Bride,—but that was his kind Way of speaking. I -only wish I were better worth his having! - -—We went away from the Church-door,—as happy a Bridegroom and Bride as -ever rode a Pillion. When we had got out of Everybody’s Sight, my -Husband said, “How are you getting on, Mistress _Blower_?” I said, “I am -smiling so that I am quite glad there’s Nobody to see me.” “May the Rest -of your Life be all Smiles and no Tears, _Cherry_,” says he,—“with GOD’S -Blessing, it shall be so if I can make it so!” “Ah!” said I, “I’m -content to take the Rough and the Smooth together, since I shall -henceforth share them with you, Sir.” “Dearest _Cherry_,” says he, “you -really must leave off calling me _Sir_!” - -[Illustration] - -“I don’t know that I can, Sir,” said I, “but I’ll try.” - -Though the Journey was delightsome, yet towards the latter End of it, -every Mile of the Road became less and less pleasant, till at length we -got into the Tide of People, on Horse and on Foot, setting in towards -_London_. Then, how strange it seemed to me that I was not going back to -the Bridge! where I had lived all the Days of my Life till within the -last Week! I began to tremble a little; and the Idea of the great old -roomy, gloomy House in _Whitechapel_, with no bright, sparkling Water to -look out upon, became rather oppressive to me, till I thought how Master -_Blower’s_ continual Presence would light it up. The Streets now -becoming thronged, he pressed my Arm tighter to him and bade me hold on -close; and I felt he was all the World to me, be the House what it -would. But when we reached it, what a Difference! The whole Front had a -fresh Coat of Paint, which made it wondrous lightsome and cheerful; the -Door-step was fresh whitened, the Door fresh varnished, the Knocker -fresh polished, and Mistress _Peach_ standing on the Step with a new Cap -plaited close round her sweet, pleasant Face, and dressed in a new -grass-green Gown. I could not help kissing her as I ran in; she said, -“GOD bless you, Mistress!” with hearty Cordiality, and followed me from -Room to Room. Everything had been cleaned up, and she told me, laughing, -that though she had had Plenty of Helps, it had been the hardest Week’s -Work she had ever had in her Life. The old green Bed-furniture had given -Place to new white Dimity; there was a Lady’s Pincushion on the -Toilette, with “May you be happy!” in minikin Pins; and a Beau-pot of -Flowers on the Window-seat. “All that is Mistress _Violet’s_ doing,” -said _Dorcas_; “she has not left the House half an Hour, I assure you, -and her Needle went in and out as fast as could be when she was -finishing the last Muslin Blind. Oh, she has been very busy, has -Mistress _Violet_! ’Twas she set out the Supper Table with the Flowers, -and Sweet-meats, and Pound-cake.” - - - - -[Illustration] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - _The Burning City_ - - -NEXT Day, the Holiday of Life was over, its Duties re-commenced. Master -_Blower_ had an Accumulation of Business to attend to, and I had Plenty -to do about the House. Before the End of the Week, I was immersed in -Cares that were Pleasures to me, inasmuch as they lightened his own. But -I could not resist paying a Visit to the Bridge, and spending an Hour in -the dear old House, and another, afterwards, with _Violet_. She and -_Mark_ came to sup with us. I found they were not going to marry till -six Months were out, which was full quick, after all; but I was thankful -they would wait so long. A Change seemed coming over _Mark_; he was -steady, composed, attentive to Business, and far pleasanter, whether -lively or sad, than in his earlier Days. As to _Violet_, she was -infinitely softened, and the old Spirit of Coquetry seemed quite to have -burned out. We did not see them often, but Master _Blower_ always -received them kindly, and they seemed to consider it a Privilege as well -as a Pleasure to come to us. - -Thus, the Winter wore on: the Plague was stayed; and though it was -common to meet in the Streets Men in their Nightcaps, limping, or with -their Throats bound up, no one thought of getting out of their Way, for -the Infection had spent itself. And Persons that were Strangers to each -other might be heard exchanging Congratulations on the improved State of -Things, now that Houses and Shops were re-opening, the Weeds beginning -to disappear from the Thoroughfares, and Men no longer walked along the -Middle of the Streets, but on the Foot-pavements. - -My dear Husband endeavoured to impress the Hearts and Minds of his -People, in Season and out of Season, with a Sense of the Mercy that had -preserved them; but, I am sorry to say, with very little permanent -Effect. True it is, at first the Ground was broken up, and the Clods -were soft, and the good Seed that was cast in seemed likely to fructify; -but alas, the hot Sun of worldly Temptation soon hardened the Ground and -burnt the Seed up, and People that had almost miraculously escaped the -general Judgment, seemed little better than they were before. This -depressed my dear Husband very much; but, instead of relaxing his -Efforts, he only redoubled them; and he said I strengthened his Hands. - -There was also a great deal of Distress, owing to the general Stagnation -of Trade, and the vast Numbers of People thrown out of Employ. So that, -though we did all we could, it was heart-rending to witness the Misery -in some of the lower Districts of our Parish. We pinched ourselves to -help them, voluntarily giving up such and such Things at our Table; and -this with such Cheerfulness that I really believe our Self-privations -gave us more actual Enjoyment than if we had ate the Fat and drank the -Sweet to our Hearts’ Desire. And once or twice it remarkably happened -that when we had a little exceeded in this Way, and had supplied thereby -the needs of a more than ordinary Number, a great Hamper would arrive -from Mistress _Blower_, full of Game, Poultry, Eggs, Butter, Brawn, -Hams, Tongues, and Everything that was good. Often we talked over that -sweet Place the Hampers came from; and it seemed to me that my Husband -more and more inclined towards the Country; especially as his Throat had -never quite recovered the Effects of the Plague, and he found he could -not make himself heard throughout the remoter Parts of his large Church -without Difficulty. Quite at the End of the Summer, the old Incumbent of -_Bucklands_ Parsonage died; and as the living was in the Squire’s Gift, -and he had some Notion his Brother would like it, he wrote to offer it -to him. My Husband asked my Mind about it; I said I should like it of -all Things, if he could be content with so small and quiet a Field of -Action. He said, yes, the Time had been when it had been otherwise with -him—the harder the Work the greater the Pleasure, especially as carrying -some Sense of Glory in the Victory over it; but it was not so with him -now: he could be content with trying to do good on a small Scale; -especially as he had not been quite so successful on the larger Field of -Action as he had hoped and expected. - -“Could I preach like _Apollos_,” continued he, “to what Good, to the -Half of my Congregation, who cannot catch one Word in ten? So that, in -Fact, I preach to a small Congregation already. And I’ve no Mind to -receive the Pay without doing the Work. There’s no Fear, _Cherry_, of my -not making myself audible in _Bucklands_ Church!—Besides, do you know I -fancy I have a little domestic Mission there. My dear, good Brother, who -has dozed under Doctor _Bray_ for so many Years, has languished under a -spiritual Dearth. He is now getting in Years, and I think I may do -Something for him—you know he told you he thought my Sermons were _the -real Thing_.” - -“He said,” replied I, “that you not only hit the right Nail on the Head, -but hammered it well in.” - -After some further Talk, which only went to prove how completely we were -of a Mind on the Matter, the Letters were written and sent—to accept the -one Living and resign the other. That was on the Second of _September_. -The same Night, broke out that dreadful Fire, which lasted three Days -and three Nights, and destroyed fifteen of the twenty-six City Wards, -including four hundred Streets and Lanes, and thirteen thousand Houses. -Oh, what a dreadful Calamity! We were in Bed, a little after Ten, when -Shrieks and Cries of “Fire!” awoke us; and my dear Husband put his Head -forth of the Window and asked where it was. A Man running along -answered, “On or at the Foot of _London Bridge_!” Then our Hearts failed -us for _Violet_ and _Mark_, and all our old Friends; and we dressed and -went forth, for I could not be stayed from accompanying Master _Blower_. -But before we could reach the Bridge Foot, we found Access to it cut -off, both by Reason of the Crowd and of the Flames: the only Comfort -was, that the Fire kept off the Bridge. There was so much Tumult and -Pressure that we could only keep on the Skirts of the Crowd, where we -hung about without doing any Good for some Hours. - -The next Morning, we were in Hope of hearing the Fire had been got -under; instead of which, the whole _Bankside_ was wrapped in Flames, and -all the Houses from the Bridge Foot, and all _Thames Street_, were lying -in Ashes. The People seemed all at Pause, gazing on, without stirring -Hand or Foot, and those that were personal Sufferers were venting their -Grief in Cries and Lamentations. But we could not find that any Life had -yet been lost; and the Fire kept off the Bridge. - -When I went Home at Dusk, it was to pray for the poor Sufferers, and -then to muse how far the Calamity might extend. Supper was on Table, but -I had no Mind to eat; which was all the better, as my Husband presently -brought in a poor, weeping Family who had lost Everything, and had not -touched a Morsel all Day. We gave them a good Meal, and Shelter for the -Night. They slept, but we could not. There was no Need of Candles all -that Night, which was as light as Day for ten Miles round. The Fire was -now spreading all along the South Part of the City, leaping from House -to House, and Street to Street, for the very Air seemed ignited; Showers -of Sparks and Ashes were falling in every Direction, and the Pavement -was growing almost too hot to tread upon. My Husband kept bringing in -new Refugees as long as our House would hold them, and I was too busy -caring for them to have Leisure to go forth, even had it been safe; but -each New-comer brought fresh Tidings of the Desolation, which was now -extending to Churches, public Monuments, Hospitals, Companies’ Halls, as -though it would carry all before it. We now began to be in some Alarm -for ourselves; and to consider what we should do if it came our Way; and -now we experienced the Convenience of having but little Treasure that -Moth, Rust, or Fire could injure, for when Master _Blower_ had made up a -small Packet of Papers and ready Money that we could readily carry about -us, there was Nothing left for the Destroyer to consume but our poor -Furniture and the House over our Heads. Very opportunely, at this Time -came to our Door a _Berkshire_ Countryman with one of the good Squire’s -Hampers full of Eatables. I never saw a poor Fellow look so scared! He -got a good View of the Calamity from a Distance, and then set his Face -homewards in as great a Hurry as if the Flames were in Chase of him. The -Streets were now full of Carts loaded with Moveables, which their Owners -were conveying out of Town; giving Way to the Calamity rather than -seeking to arrest it, which, indeed, it was now vain to attempt, though -I think Something might have been done at first. _St. Paul’s_ was now in -a Blaze; the great Stones exploding with intense Heat, and the melted -Lead running along the Gutters. This Night, also, we got scarce any -Rest. - -[Illustration: - - S^t Paul’s was now in a Blaze -] - -The next Morning, while I was overlooking my Stores, and considering how -I should best husband them for my poor Inmates, in comes _Mark_, his -Face blackened, his Hair full of Ashes, his Clothes singed in many -Places, and his Shoes nearly burnt off his Feet. - -“Thank GOD, you are safe, then!” cries he, catching hold of both my -Hands. “The Sky looked so fiery in this Quarter during the Night, that -_Violet_ and I were in dreadful Fear for you, and I started at Daybreak, -and came here by making a great Round, to see how it fared with you. And -_Violet_ bids me say that she has not forgotten your Father’s and -Mother’s Kindness to her Father and Mother when they were burned out of -House and Home, nor how she and you were put together in the same -Cradle; and it will make her and me, dear _Cherry_, unspeakably happy to -receive you and Master _Blower_ under the very same Roof, should you be -burnt out of your own.” - -I said, “Dear _Mark_, that is so like you and _Violet_! Just the -Kindness I should have expected! Believe me, we shall thankfully accept -it, if there be Need. But at present the Fire is all about us, yet comes -not to us. We have made up our little Parcel of Treasures, (a little -one, indeed, _Mark_!) and are ready to start at a Minute’s Notice, -trusting to a good GOD to spare our Lives. This old House, if it once -catches, will burn like Tinder; meanwhile, come and see how many it -holds.” - -So I led him from Room to Room, and shewed him Mothers nursing their -Infants, Children eating Bread and Milk, and old People still sleeping -heavily. He was greatly interested and impressed. “What a good Soul you -are!” said he,—“I can give you no Notion of the Scenes of Misery on the -Outskirts through which I passed on my Way here. People huddled in -Tents, or lying under Hedges, or on Heaps of Litter and broken -Furniture, without a Morsel of Bread or a Cup of Milk, yet none -begging!... I saw a few Bread-carts and Milk-people coming up to them as -I passed along, but many had no Money, not even a Penny, to buy a -Breakfast. I had filled my Purse, _Cherry_, with all that was in the -Till, before I set out; but you see there’s not much in it now——” - -And he pulled out an empty Purse, with a Smile that showed he was well -pleased with the Way its Contents had gone. Then we shook Hands -heartily, and parted. - -To the loud Crackling of Flames and Crash of falling Buildings, was now -added the blowing up of Houses with Gunpowder, which, indeed, made the -Neighbourhood of them very dangerous to Bystanders, but checked the -Progress of the Fire. However, Nothing effectual could have been done, -had it not pleased ALMIGHTY GOD to stay his Judgment by abating the high -Wind, which fell all at once; whereby the Flames ceased to spread, -though the glowing Ruins continued to burn. - -The Crisis being now past, we ceased to be in Apprehension for -ourselves, and devoted all our Attention to the poor, bereft People -under our Care. Some of these were fetched away by their Country -Friends; sooner or later all dispersed; and then we went out into the -Fields adjoining the City, to afford what little Help we could. But oh! -the Desolation! To attempt to assuage that Accumulation of Destitution -by our trivial Means seemed like essaying to subdue the Fire with a Cup -of Water: yet we know that every Little helps; and that even a Cup of -Water, to the thirsty Man who drinks it, quenches not his Thirst the -less, that Thousands beside are parched with Drought. And thus, by -Analogy, concerning the general Amount of human Suffering surrounding us -at all Times, which the wife of a _Whitechapel_ Parson is perhaps as -well qualified to speak of as any one else—We need not be discouraged -from aiding any, because we cannot succour all; since the Relief -afforded is as grateful to him who has it, as though _all_ were -relieved, which it is not GOD’S Will that any should have Power to -accomplish. - -By the End of the Month this terrible Calamity was over-past; at least, -as far as we had Anything to do with it, though we continued to give -Shelter to poor, ruined Householders as long as the Parsonage was our -own. The Gentleman who succeeded my dear Husband seemed a benevolent -Sort of Man, a little pompous, maybe, but tenderly disposed towards the -Poor. - -And now, Everything being settled, we sold some of our old Furniture, -and sent down the Rest, with Mistress _Peach_, by the Wagon. And my dear -Husband and I entered _Bucklands_ exactly as we had left it, and on the -very same Horse; I in my cherry-colour Habit, that was as fresh as on my -Wedding-day. And here we have been ever since; and he calls me his right -Hand, and says my Attention to all his secular Affairs leaves his Mind -at Liberty to pursue his Duties and Studies without Distraction—and that -I understand the Poor even better than he does—and that I am his best -Counsellor, his dearest Friend, his pleasantest Companion, his darling -_Cherry_!—Yes; he calls me, and I believe he thinks me all this: and as -for _my_ being happy in _him_ ... I should think so, indeed! - - - - - FINIS - - - - - _Printed by_ BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. - _Edinburgh and London_ - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ● Transcriber’s Notes: - ○ The captions for the illustrations don’t exactly match the - captions given in the List of Illustrations. - ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. - ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. - ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only - when a predominant form was found in this book. - ○ The use of a carat (^) before one or more letters shows they were - intended to be superscripts, as in S^t Bartholomew or L^{d.} - Egemont. - ○ Text that was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cherry & Violet, by Anne Manning - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHERRY & VIOLET *** - -***** This file should be named 61080-0.txt or 61080-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/0/8/61080/ - -Produced by MWS, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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