From the time of their arrival, the minister and his family excited
great curiosity and interest among the good people of Merleville. The
minister himself, as Mr Snow told Mrs Nasmyth, was "popular." Not,
however, that any one among them all thought him faultless, unless Mr
Snow himself did. Every old lady in the town saw something in him,
which she not secretly deplored. Indeed, they were more unanimous, with
regard to the minister's faults, than old ladies generally are on
important subjects. The matter was dispassionately discussed at several
successive sewing-circles, and when Mrs Page, summing up the evidence,
solemnly declared, "that though the minister was a good man, and a good
preacher, he lacked considerable in some things which go to make a man a
good pastor," there was scarcely a dissenting voice.
Mrs Merle had ventured to hint that, "they could not expect everything
in one man," but her voice went for nothing, as one of the minister's
offences was, having been several times in at the Judge's, while he
sinfully neglected others of his flock.
"It's handy by," ventured Mrs Merle, again. But the Judge's wife was
no match for the blacksmith's lady, and it was agreed by all, that
whatever else the minister might be, he was "no hand at visiting." True
he had divided the town into districts, for the purpose of regularly
meeting the people, and it was his custom to announce from the pulpit,
the neighbourhood in which, on certain days, he might be expected. But
that of course, was a formal matter, and not at all like the
affectionate intercourse that ought to exist between a pastor and his
people. "He might preach like Paul," said Mrs Page, "but unless on
week days he watered the seed sown, with a word in season, the harvest
would never be gathered in. The minister's face ought to be a familiar
sight in every household, or the youth would never be brought into the
fold," and the lady sighed, at the case of the youth, scattered over the
ten miles square of Merleville. The minister was not sinning in
ignorance either, for she herself, had told him his duty in this
respect.
"And what did he say?" asked some one.
"Oh! he didn't say much, but I could see that his conscience wasn't
easy. However, there has been no improvement yet," she added, with
grave severity.
"He hain't got a horse, and I've heard say, that deacon Fish charges him
six cents a mile for his horse and cutter, whenever he has it. He
couldn't afford to ride round much at that rate, on five hundred dollars
a year."
This bold speech was ventured by Miss Rebecca Pettimore, Mrs Captain
Liscome's help, who took turns with that lady, in attending the
sewing-circle. But it was well known, that she was always "on the off
side," and Mrs Page deigned no reply. There was a moment's silence.
"Eli heard Mr Snow say so, in Page's shop yesterday," added Rebecca,
who always gave her authority, when she repeated an item of news. Mrs
Fish took her up sharply.
"Sampson Snow had better let the minister have his horse and cutter, if
he can afford to do it for nothing. Mr Fish can't."
"My goodness, Mis' Fish, I wouldn't have said a word, if I'd thought you
were here," said Rebecca, with an embarrassed laugh.
"Mr Snow often drives the minister, and thinks himself well paid, just
to have a talk with him," said a pretty black-eyed girl, trying to cover
Rebecca's retreat. But Rebecca wouldn't retreat.
"I didn't mean any offence, Mis' Fish, and if it ain't so about the
deacon, you can say so now, before it goes farther."
But it was not to be contradicted, and that Mrs Fish well knew, though
what business it was of anybody's, and why the minister, who seemed to
be well off, shouldn't pay for the use of a horse and cutter, she
couldn't understand. The subject was changed by Mrs Slowcome.
"He must have piles and piles of old sermons. It don't seem as though
he needs to spend as much time in his study, as Mrs Nasmyth tells
about."
Here there was a murmur of dissent. Would sermons made for the British,
be such as to suit free-born American citizens? the children of the
Puritans? The prevailing feeling was against such a supposition.
"Old or new, I like them," said Celestia Jones, the pretty black-eyed
girl, who had spoken before. "And so do others, who are better judges
than I."
"Squire Greenleaf, I suppose," said Ruby Fox, in a loud whisper. "He
was up there last Sunday night; she has been aching to tell it all the
afternoon."
Celestia's black eyes flashed fire at the speaker, and the sly Ruby said
no more. Indeed, there was no more said about the sermons, for that
they were something for the Merleville people to be proud of, all
agreed. Mr Elliott's preaching had filled the old meeting-house.
People who had never been regular churchgoers came now; some from out of
the town, even. Young Squire Greenleaf, who seemed to have the prospect
of succeeding Judge Merle, as the great man of Merleville, had brought
over the judges from Rixford, and they had dined at the minister's, and
had come to church on Sunday. Young Squire Greenleaf was a triumph of
himself. He had never been at meeting "much, if any," since he had
completed his legal studies. If he ever did go, it was to the Episcopal
church at Rixford, which, to the liberal Mrs Page, looked considerably
like coquetting with the scarlet woman. Now, he hardly ever lost a
Sunday, besides going sometimes to conference meetings, and making
frequent visits to the minister's house. Having put all these things
together, and considered the matter, Mrs Page came to the conclusion,
that the squire was not in so hopeless a condition as she had been wont
to suppose, a fact which, on this occasion, she took the opportunity of
rejoicing over. The rest rejoiced too. There was a murmur of dissent
from Miss Pettimore, but it passed unnoticed, as usual. There was a
gleam which looked a little like scorn, in the black eyes of Miss
Celestia, which said more plainly than Miss Pettimore's words could have
done, that the squire was better now, than the most in Merleville, but
like a wise young person as she was, she expended all her scornful
glances on the shirt sleeve she was making, and said nothing.
The minister was then allowed to rest a little while, and the other
members of the family were discussed, with equal interest. Upon the
whole, the conclusion arrived at was pretty favourable. But Mrs Page
and her friends were not quite satisfied with Graeme. As the minister's
eldest daughter, and "serious," they were disposed to overlook her
youthfulness, and give her a prominent place in their circle. But
Graeme hung back, and would not be prevailed upon to take such honour to
herself, and so some said she was proud, and some said she was only shy.
But she was kindly dealt with, even by Mrs Page, for her loving care
of the rest of the children had won for her the love of many a motherly
heart among these kind people. And she was after all but a child,
little more than fifteen.
There were numberless stories afloat about the boys,--their mirth, their
mischief, their good scholarship, their respect and obedience to their
father, which it was not beneath the dignity of the ladies assembled to
repeat and discuss. The boys had visited faithfully through the parish,
if their father had not, and almost everywhere they had won for
themselves a welcome. It is true, there had been one or two rather
serious scrapes, in which they had involved themselves, and other lads
of the village; but kind-hearted people forgot the mischief sooner than
the mirth, and Norman and Harry were very popular among old and young.
But the wonder of wonders, the riddle that none could read, the anomaly
in Merleville society was Janet, or Mrs Nasmyth, as she was generally
called. In refusing one of the many invitations which she had shared
with the minister and Graeme, she had thought fit to give society in
general a piece of her mind. She was, she said, the minister's servant,
and kenned her place better than to offer to take her tea with him in
any strange house; she was obliged for the invitation all the same.
"Servant!" echoed Mrs Sterne's help, who was staying to pass the
evening, while her mistress went home, "to see about supper."
And, "servant!" echoed the young lady who assisted Mrs Merle in her
household affairs.
"I'll let them see that I think myself just as good as Queen Victoria,
if I do live out," said another dignified auxiliary.
"She must be a dreadful mean-spirited creature."
"Why, they do say she'll brush them great boys' shoes. I saw her
myself, through the study-door, pull off Mr Elliott's boots as humble
as could be."
"To see that little girl pouring tea when there's company, and Mrs
Nasmyth not sitting down. It's ridiculous."
"I wouldn't do so for the President!"
"Well, they seem to think everything of her," said Miss Pettimore,
speaking for the first time in this connection.
"Why, yes, she does just what she has a mind to about house. And the
way them children hang about her, and fuss over her, I never see. They
tell her everything, and these boys mind her, as they do their father."
"And if any one comes to pay his minister's tax, it's always, `ask Mrs
Nasmyth,' or, `Mrs Nasmyth will tell you.'"
"They couldn't get along without her. If I was her I'd show them that I
was as good as them, and no servant."
"She's used to it. She's been brought up so. But now that she's got
here, I should think she'd be sick of it."
"I suppose `servant' there, means pretty much what `help' does here.
There don't seem to be difference enough to talk about," said Rebecca.
"I see considerable difference," said Mrs Merle's young lady.
"It beats all," said another.
Yes, it did beat all. It was incomprehensible to these dignified
people, how Janet could openly acknowledge herself a servant, and yet
retain her self-respect. And that "Mrs Nasmyth thought considerable of
herself," many of the curious ladies of Merleville had occasion to know.
The relations existing between her and "the bairns," could not easily
be understood. She acknowledged herself their servant, yet she reproved
them when they deserved it, and that sharply. She enforced obedience to
all rules, and governed in all household matters, none seeking to
dispute her right. They went to her at all times with their troubles
and their pleasures, and she sympathised with them, advised them, or
consoled them, as the case might need. That they were as the very apple
of her eye, was evident to all, and that they loved her dearly, and
respected her entirely, none could fail to see.
There were stories going about in the village to prove that she had a
sharp tongue in her head, and this her warmest friends did not seek to
deny. Of course, it was the duty of all the female part of the
congregation to visit at the minister's house, and to give such advice
and assistance, with regard to the arrangements, as might seem to be
required of them. It is possible they took more interest in the matter
than if there had been a mistress in the house. "More liberties," Janet
indignantly declared, and after the first visitation or two she
resolutely set her face against what she called the answering of
impertinent questions. According to her own confession, she gave to
several of them, whose interest in their affairs was expressed without
due discretion, a "downsetting," and Graeme and the boys, and even Mr
Elliott, had an idea that a downsetting from Janet must be something
serious. It is true her victims' ignorance of the Scottish tongue must
have taken the edge a little off her sharp words, but there was no
mistaking her indignant testimony, as regarding "upsettin' bodies," and
"meddlesome bodies," that bestowed too much time on their neighbours'
affairs, and there was some indignation felt and expressed on the
subject.
But she had her friends, and that not a few, for sweet words and soft
came very naturally to Janet's lips when her heart was touched, and this
always happened to her in the presence of suffering and sorrow, and many
were the sad and sick that her kind words comforted, and her willing
hands relieved. For every sharp word brought up against her, there
could be told a kindly deed, and Janet's friends were the most numerous
at the sewing-circle that night.
Merleville was by no means on the outskirts of civilisation, though
viewed from the high hill on which the old meeting-house stood, it
seemed to the children to be surrounded with woods. But between the
hills lay many a fertile valley. Except toward the west, where the
hills became mountains, it was laid out into farms, nearly all of which
were occupied, and very pleasant homes some of these farm-houses were.
The village was not large enough to have a society within itself
independent of the dwellers on these farms, and all the people, even to
the borders of the "ten miles square," considered themselves neighbours.
They were very socially inclined, for the most part, and Merleville was
a very pleasant place to live in.
Winter was the time for visiting. There was very little formality in
their entertainments. Nuts and apples, or doughnuts and cheese, was
usually the extent of their efforts in the way of refreshments, except
on special occasions, when formal invitations were given. Then, it must
be confessed, the chief aim of each housekeeper seemed to be to surpass
all others in the excellence and variety of the good things provided.
But for the most part no invitations were given or needed, they dropped
in on one another in a friendly way.
The minister's family were not overlooked. Scarcely an evening passed
but some of their neighbours came in. Indeed, this happened too
frequently for Janet's patience, for she sorely begrudged the time taken
from the minister's books, to the entertainment of "ilka idle body that
took leave to come in." It gave her great delight to see him really
interested with visitors, but she set her face against his being
troubled at all hours on every day in the week.
"If it's anything particular I'll tell the minister you're here," she
used to say; "but he bade the bairns be quiet, and I doubt he wouldna
like to be disturbed. Sit down a minute, and I'll speak to Miss Graeme,
and I dare say the minister will be at leisure shortly."
Generally the visitor, by no means displeased, sat down in her bright
kitchen for a chat with her and the children. It was partly these
evening visits that won for Mrs Nasmyth her popularity. Even in her
gloomy days--and she had some days gloomy enough about this time--she
would exert herself on such an occasion, and with the help of the young
people the visitor was generally well entertained. Such singing of
songs, such telling of tales, such discussions as were carried on in the
pleasant firelight! There was no such thing as time lagging there, and
often the nine o'clock worship came before the visitor was aware.
Even Judge Merle and young Squire Greenleaf were sometimes detained in
the kitchen, if they happened to come in on a night when the minister
was more than usually engaged.
"For you see, sir," said she, on one occasion, "what with ae thing and
what with anither, the minister has had so many interruptions this week
already, that I dinna like to disturb him. But if you'll sit down here
for a minute or two, I daresay he'll be ben and I'll speak to Miss
Graeme."
"Mr Elliott seems a close student," said the Judge, as he took the
offered seat by the fire.
"Ay, is he. Though if you are like the lave o' the folk, you'll think
no more o' him for that. Folk o' my country judge o' a minister by the
time he spends in his study; but here he seems hardly to be thought to
be in the way of his duty, unless he's ca'ing about from house to house,
hearkening to ilka auld wife's tale."
"But," said the Judge, much amused, "the minister has been studying all
his life. It seems as though he might draw on old stores now."
"Ay, but out o' the old stores he must bring new matter. The minister's
no one that puts his people off with `cauld kail het again,' and he
canna make sermons and rin here and there at the same time."
"And he can't attend to visitors and make sermons at the same time.
That would be to the point at present," said the Judge, laughing, "I
think I'll be going."
"'Deed, no, sir," said Janet, earnestly, "I didna mean you. I'm aye
glad to see you or any sensible person to converse with the minister.
It cheers him. But this week it's been worse than ever. He has hardly
had an unbroken hour. But sit still, sir. He would be ill-pleased if
you went away without seeing him."
"I'll speak to papa, Judge Merle," said Graeme.
"Never mind, my dear. Come and speak to me yourself. I think Mrs
Nasmyth is right. The minister ought not to be disturbed. I have
nothing particular to say to him. I came because it's a pleasure to
come, and I did not think about its being so near the end of the week."
Graeme looked rather anxiously from him to Janet.
"My dear, you needna trouble yourself. It's no' folk like the Judge and
young Mr Greenleaf that will be likely to take umbrage at being kept
waiting a wee while here. It's folk like the 'smith yonder, or Orrin
Green, the upsettin' body. But you can go in now and see if your papa's
at leisure, and tell him the Judge is here."
"We had Mr Greenleaf here awhile the ither night," she continued, as
Graeme disappeared. "A nice, pleasant spoken gentleman he is, an no' ae
bit o' a Yankee."
The Judge opened his eyes. It was rather an equivocal compliment,
considering the person to whom she spoke. But he was not one of the
kind to take offence, as Janet justly said.