"I never thought to see daughter of mine wedded from the house of a
neighbour," said the Master Builder (whose title yet clung to him,
albeit there was something of mockery in the sound), heaving a sigh
as he looked into the happy face of his child. "But a homeless man
must needs do the best he can; and our good friends have won the
right to play the part of kinsfolk towards us both."
"Indeed--indeed they have, dear father," answered Gertrude; "thou
canst not think how happy I have been here in this sweet cottage,
nor what a home it has been to us all these weeks. I shall be
almost loth to leave it on the morrow--at least I should be, were
it not for the great happiness coming into my life. But the home to
which Reuben will take me must be even dearer than this. And thou
wilt come with us, sweet father, and make us happy by thy
presence!"
"Ay, child, if thou wilt have the homeless old man who has managed
his affairs so ill as to have to start life afresh when he should
be thinking of resigning his work into other hands, and passing his
old age in peace and--"
But Gertrude stopped him with a kiss.
"Thou art not old, father; and I trow before thou art, a peaceful
and prosperous old age will be in store for thee. Whilst Reuben and
I live, nothing shall lack to thee that filial love can bestow. O
dearest father! methinks there are bright and happy days before us
yet."
"I trust so--I trust so, my child, for thee especially. For thou
dost deserve them. Thou hast been a good daughter, and wilt make a
good wife."
"My heart misgives me sometimes that I was not always so tender a
daughter to poor mother as I fain would have been. May God pardon
me in whatever way I may have erred!"
"The error was more hers than thine," answered the father with a
sigh; "and mine too, inasmuch as I checked her not early, as I
perchance might have done. She would have wed thee with some needy
and perhaps evil-living gallant, who would have taken thee for thy
fortune. Thou hast done far better to choose such an honest, godly
youth as Reuben. He will make thee an excellent husband."
"Ah, will he not!" said Gertrude, her face alight with tender love.
"Poor mother did not understand what she was doing in striving to
banish him from the house. But methinks, in the land of spirits all
these things are seen aright; and that if it is permitted to the
dead to know aught of what passes in the land they have left
behind, she will be rejoicing with us today."
"Heaven send it may be so! My poor wife," and the father heaved a
great sigh of mixed feelings, "it is well she has not lived to see
this end to her schemings to be rich. At least she is spared the
knowledge of her husband's ruin."
"Nay, call it not that, dear father. Master Harmer says that things
are beginning to look up again after the terrible visitation, and
surely your affairs will look up likewise."
"In a measure, yes," he answered. "I have at least sold the old
house for a better sum than I expected; and the purchaser has
bought all the rich furniture, save such things as I would not sell
for the sake of your poor mother. These I shall move shortly to
your home, my child. My good friend says that it is hard by his
house, so the journey will not be a difficult one."
"No, father," answered Gertrude, with glowing cheeks. "And who has
bought the old Bridge house?"
"Nay, I have not even had the heart to ask. My good friend has
carried out the business for me from first to last. He has been the
truest friend man ever had. I have had naught to do but to sign the
papers and receive the purchase money. No doubt the pang of seeing
others living there will pass in time, but just now I care not even
to think of it."
Gertrude's face was still glowing a rosy red, but she turned the
conversation at once.
"And thou art getting together a little business again, father, on
the Southwark side of the river?"
"Yes; that again is by the advice of our good neighbour. He showed
me that I could no longer afford the large buildings in the Chepe.
He heard of these small premises going a-begging for a purchaser,
all connected with them having perished in the plague. The small
sum left to me of the purchase money of the house, after my debts
were paid, sufficed to buy them; and now I have two steady workmen
in my employ, instead of the scores I once had. But God be thanked,
we have never been idle all these weeks. And it may be that
by-and-by, as confidence returns, I may get something of a business
together again."
"Thou hast been purifying and disinfecting houses, they say, for
the wealthy ones of the city?"
"Ay; that was our good friend's thought. The Lord Mayor and
authorities issued general directions for this work; and Harmer
suggested to me that I should print handbills offering to undertake
the purging of any house entrusted to me for a fixed fee. This I
did, and have had my hands full ever since. All the fine folks are
crowding back now that the cold weather has come, but no one cares
to venture within his house till it has been purified by the
burning of aromatic drugs and spices. The rich care not what they
spend, so that they are sure they are free from danger. As for the
poor, they do but burn tar or pitch or sulphur; and methinks these
do just as well, save that the odour which hangs about is not so
grateful to the senses. Yes, it was a happy thought of good James
Harmer, and has put money in my pocket enough to enable me to
undertake small building matters without borrowing. But I trow it
will be long ere any building is wanted in and about the city.
There are too many empty houses left there for that."
"Shall I see a wondrous change there when I go back, father?"
"A change, but a wondrous small one compared to what one would
suppose," answered the father. "All men are amazed to see how
quickly the streets have filled, and how little of change there is
to note in the outward aspect of things. I had thought that half
the houses would be left empty; but I think there be not more than
one-eighth without inhabitants, and these are filling up apace. To
be sure, in the once crowded lanes and alleys there are far fewer
people than before; but it is wonderful to see how small the change
is; and life goes on just as of old. It is as if the calamity was
already half forgot!"
"Nay but, father, I trust it is not forgotten, and that men's
consciences are stirred, and that they have taken to heart the
warning of God's just anger."
The Master Builder slightly shook his head.
"I fear not, child, I fear not. I hear the same oaths and
blasphemies, the same ribald jests and ungodly talk, as of old.
They say the Court, which has lately returned to Whitehall, is as
gay and wanton as ever. In face of the terror of death, men did
resolve to amend their ways; but I fear me, that terror being past,
they do but make a mock of it, and return, like the sow in
Scripture, to their wallowing in the mire."
Gertrude looked gravely sorrowful for a moment; but, on the eve of
her wedding day, she could not be sorrowful long. She and her
father were enjoying a talk together before she sought her couch.
He had been unable to come earlier to see her, business matters
having detained him in town. For the past two months he had been at
work with his task of purifying and setting in order the houses of
the better-class people, for their return thither after the plague;
and though he had sent many affectionate messages to his daughter,
this was the first time for several weeks that they had met. It
could not but rankle in the father's heart that, for the time
being, he had no home to offer to his child. He had been staying
with his good friend James Harmer all this while, who had left his
wife and family at Islington to regain their full health and
strength, while he spent his time between the Bridge house and the
cottage. His business required his presence at home during a part
of the week, since his shopmen and apprentices had already
returned; but he would not permit his family to do so just yet,
deeming it better for them to remain with his sister, and to enjoy
with her a period of rest and refreshment which could never be
theirs in the busy life of home.
A happy Christmas had thus been spent; and now it was the eve of
Gertrude's wedding day, which was the one following Christmas Day.
The Master Builder had spent the festival with his friends, and on
the morrow would accompany his daughter and her husband to their
home in the city, the Harmer family returning to their house at the
same time, and bringing Mary with them on a visit after all her
hospitality to them.
By nine o'clock the next morning, the quiet little wedding party
was approaching the church, when to their surprise they beheld a
fine coach, drawn by four horses, drawing up at the gate of the
churchyard; and before Dorcas had more than time to exclaim, "Why,
it is my Lady Scrope herself!" they saw that diminutive but
remarkable old dame alighting from it, and walking nimbly up the
path towards the porch.
"I never dreamed she would really come, albeit I did let her know
the day according to promise--or rather to her command," said her
handmaiden, hurrying after her as if by instinct. The little figure
in its sables and strangely-fashioned velvet bonnet turned at the
sound of the quick footfall; and there stood the old lady scanning
the whole party with her bead-like eyes, and giving little nods to
this one and the other in response to their respectful reverences.
"A pretty pair! a pretty pair!" was her comment upon the bridal
couple, who walked together, and who certainly looked very handsome
and happy. Reuben had regained strength and colour, though his face
was thinner and finer in outline than it had been before his
illness; and Gertrude had always been something of a beauty, and
had greatly improved in looks during these weeks of happiness.
"Well, well, well! I am always sorry for folks who are tying
burdens round their own necks; but some can do it with a better
grace than others.
"Now, child," and she turned to Gertrude, and rapped her cane upon
the ground, "don't make a fool of yourself or your husband! Don't
begin by thinking him the best man in the world; else he may turn
out all too soon to be the worst. Don't let him trample upon you.
Hold your own with him.
"Pooh! I might as well spare my words. Poor fools, they are all
alike at starting. They only learn to sing to another tune when
experience has taken them in hand for a while. Well, well, well!
'tis a pretty sight after all. I'll say no more. Give me your arm,
good Master Harmer, and let me have a good view of the tying of
this knot, so that there shall be no slipping out of it later."
James Harmer, with a bow which he made as courtly as he knew how,
offered his arm to the curious, little, old lady; and strange it
was to see her small, richly-clad, upright figure amongst the
simple group before the altar that day. Many there were who
wondered what had brought her, and amongst the party themselves
none could answer the question. It appeared to be one of those
freaks for which, in old days, Lady Scrope had made herself famous
throughout London, and the habit of which had not been overcome,
although the opportunities were growing smaller with advancing
years.
She insisted on accompanying the party back to Mary Harmer's
cottage. A simple collation was awaiting them before they travelled
back to the city. Lady Scrope looked with the greatest interest and
curiosity at the cottage; received the inquiring advances of Fido
very graciously; made the boys tell her all the history of his
attaching himself to them; and finally made herself the most
entertaining and agreeable guest at the board, although the
sharpness of her speech and the acid favour of some of her remarks
bred a little uneasiness in some of her auditors.
Nevertheless the time passed pleasantly enough; and when the hands
of the clock pointed to the hour of eleven, the lady rose to her
feet and remarked incisively:
"My coach will be here immediately, if the varlets play me not
false. The bride, bridegroom, and the bride's father shall drive
with me. I mean to see the maiden's house before I return to mine
own."
A glowing colour was in Gertrude's face. Now she began to have a
clearer idea why Lady Scrope was there. Reuben had been to her
once, and had asked her approval of their plan to expend the bulk
of the dowry she had, with such eccentric and unaccountable
generosity, bestowed upon the bride, upon the purchase of the house
which had been for many generations in the family of her father,
and which she loved well from old associations.
Reuben was going to set up in business for himself now. He had long
been contemplating this step, since his father's trade was
increasing steadily. They would now be partners, Reuben taking one
branch of the industry, and leaving his father the other. With the
changes in fashions, changes in the manufacture of Court luxuries
became necessary. Reuben would advance with the times, his father
would remain where he was before. It was a plan which had been
carefully considered by both father and son for long, and would
have been earlier carried out had it not been for the disastrous
stoppage of all trade during the visitation of the plague.
Now, however, London seemed as gay as ever. Orders were pouring in.
It was wonderful how little the gaps in the ranks seemed to be
heeded. It was scarcely, even amongst the upper classes, that
persons troubled to wear the deep mourning for departed friends
which, under ordinary circumstances, they would have done. The
great wish of all appeared to be to forget the awful visitation as
fast as possible, and to drown the memory of it in feasting and
revelry. And this spirit, however little to the liking of a godly
man like James Harmer, was nevertheless good for his trade.
Lady Scrope being in the secret of the surprise in store for the
Master Builder, was anxious to amuse herself by being witness to
his enlightenment; and it certainly seemed as though she had full
right thus to amuse herself, if it were her desire. Reuben had some
savings of his own; but the purchase of the house, had it been made
by him alone, would have seriously crippled his ability to carry
out his further plans of business. Thus it was really Lady Scrope's
golden guineas which had paved the way for the young people, and no
one could grudge her the enjoyment of seeing them arrive at their
new home.
The Master Builder had had some dealings of late with her ladyship;
for on hearing what he was employed to do for so many of her friends,
she summoned him to fumigate both of her houses when she had got rid
of all her temporary inmates; and she followed him about, watching
what he did, and amusing herself with making him relate all the
gossip he had picked up relative to her acquaintances into whose
houses he had been admitted: how many amongst them had had the
plague, how many had died, and all the other details that her
insatiable curiosity could glean from him.
And now the bridal couple, together with the bride's father, were
being driven in state through the widest thoroughfares of the city
in the hired chariot of Lady Scrope, she chatting all the while,
and pointing out this thing and that as they went, openly lamenting
that so little remained to remind them of the plague, and
prophesying that London had not done with calamity yet.
Gertrude was amazed at the small change in the familiar streets as
they neared their home. True, she saw more strange faces than she
had been wont to do, and read new names and new signs upon the
gaily-painted boards hanging over the shop doors. Again and again
she missed from some accustomed doorway the familiar face of the
former owner, and saw that a stranger had taken the old business.
But then, again, others were there in their old places; friendly
faces beamed upon her as she looked out of the window. It was known
upon the bridge itself that she was to come back today; and though
the appearance of this fine coach caused a little thrill of
surprise, there was a fine buzz of welcome as Reuben put out his
head and stopped the postillion at the familiar door; for so many
fears had been entertained of Reuben's death, that there were those
who could not believe they should see him again in the flesh until
he stood before them.
"What means all this? Why stop ye here?" asked the Master Builder,
with a little agitation in his voice. "You have a home of your own,
you told me, Reuben, to which to take your wife. Why stop you at
your father's house? Let the postillion drive to your own abode."
"This is our own abode, dear father," said Gertrude softly,
alighting from the coach and taking him by the hand to lead him in.
Her other hand was held by her husband; and Lady Scrope was
forgotten for the moment by all, as the three passed the familiar
threshold amid a chorus of good wishes from friends and neighbours,
to which Reuben responded by a variety of signs, Gertrude being too
much moved to notice them.
"Dear father," she said, as they stood within the lower room, which
was being now fitted as of old for a shop, "forgive us if we have
kept our happy secret till now. We wanted to have the home ready
ere we brought you to it. This is our home. A wonderful thing
befell me. A dowry was bestowed upon me by a generous patroness,
from whom I looked not to receive a penny; that dowry bought the
house. Reuben's business will give us an ample livelihood. Thou
wilt remain always with us in the dear old house which thou hast
loved. Oh how happy we shall be--how wondrously happy!
"Father dear, it was Lady Scrope who gave me the wonderful gift
that has brought us all this. We must try to thank her ere we think
of ourselves more."
So speaking Gertrude turned, with her eyes full of happy tears,
towards Lady Scrope, who stood only a few paces off watching
everything with her accustomed intense scrutiny, and held out both
her hands in a sweet and simple gesture expressive of so much
feeling that the old dame felt an unwonted mist rising in her eyes.
"Tut, tut, tut, child! I want no thanks. What good did the gold do
me, thinkest thou, shut away in yonder box? What think you I had
preserved it there for? Marry that I might fling it away at dice or
cards with those who came to visit me? It was my pleasure money, as
I chose to call it. And then came the plague and smote hip and
thigh amongst those who called me friend. And what good did the
gold do me or any person else? If it pleases me to throw it away on
a pair of fools, whose business is that but mine?
"There, there, there, that will do, all of you good people. I want
to see the house. I want none of your fool's talk. Going to keep a
shop here?--sensible man. I'll come and buy all my finery when you
start business, and sit and gossip at the counter the while. So
mind you have plenty of fine folks to gossip with me. If I were
young again, I vow I'd keep a shop myself."
And she made Reuben show samples of his goods, which were piled up
in readiness, albeit he was not quite ready to open shop; and very
excellent of their kind they were, as Lady Scrope was not slow to
remark.
"I'll send the whole city to you. I'll make you the fashion yet. If
I were a younger woman, and had my own old train of gallants after
me, I'd have made your fortune for you before the year was out. But
I'll do something yet, you shall see. And mind that you never begin
to lend money, young man, to any needy young fool who may ask it of
you. Those greedy court gallants would eat up all the gold of the
Indies, and be no whit the richer for it. No money lending, young
man, for in that way lies ruin, as too many have found."
The Master Builder winced like one touched in a tender part, whilst
Reuben answered boldly:
"I have no such intentions. I hate usury, nor care I to earn money
for others to filch from me. I get my wealth by honest trade; and
if any man comes to me for aid, all the help I can give him is to
put him in the way of doing the like."
Lady Scrope nodded her head and laughed her shrill witch-like
laugh.
"He! he! he! Offer honest work to a needy gallant! May I be there
to hear when thou dost. Work, forsooth!--a turn at the galleys
would do most of them a power of good. Well, well, well, young man,
thou speakest sound sense. Thou shouldst prosper in thy business.
"Now, girl, show me the rest of the house, for I must needs be
getting home ere long. I shall weary my old bones with all this
gadding to and fro."
Gertrude was willing enough to obey. The house was hardly changed
from the time she had left it, save that all which was faded and
worn had been replaced and furbished anew, and the whole place made
sweet and wholesome, and as clean and bright as hands could make
it. Gertrude would have preferred a plainer and simpler abode, more
like that of her neighbours; but she had not had the heart to undo
all her mother's dainty handiwork, and Reuben had thought nothing
too good for his bride.
Lady Scrope gibed and jeered a little, but not unkindly. She knew
all the family history by this time, and how that Gertrude was not
responsible for the luxuries with which her life would be
surrounded.
"Go to, child, go to; I am no judge over thee. What matters it a
few years earlier or later? It began in Shakespeare's time, as you
may read if you will, and it grows worse every generation. Soon the
shopmen and traders will be the fine gentlemen of the land, and we
may hope for the pickings and leavings of their tables. What does
it matter to me? I shall not be troubled by it. And if I be not
troubled thereby, what matter if all the world goes mad?
"Now fare you well, young folks; and thou, good Master Builder,
thank Heaven for a good and dutiful daughter, for they grow not on
every hedge in these graceless days.
"See me to my coach, young man, if thou canst leave devouring thy
wife with thine eyes for so much as a minute.
"Poor fools! poor fools! both of you.
"Give me a kiss, maiden--nay, mistress I must call thee now. Be a
good child, and be not too meek. Remember the fate of the hapless
Griselda."
Nodding her head and shaking her finger, Lady Scrope vanished down
the stairs upon Reuben's arm; and Gertrude, moved beyond her powers
of self restraint by all she had gone through, flung herself into
her father's arms, and the two mingled together their tears of
thankfulness and joy.