THE NIGHT VISIT.
And scenes long past of joy and pain,
Come weldering through her childish brain.
_—Scott._
“That’s godfather! As sure as a gun that’s godfather!” exclaimed Nettie;
making one bound from the place where she stood to a chair, and
springing thence to the bosom of the newcomer, where she clung
desperately, pressing her arms around his neck; holding his head between
her hands, while she kissed his eyes and cheeks and lips; then rubbing
and rooting her head into his bosom, and screaming with delight.
“And is it possible you recollect me, little Nettie?” asked General
Garnet (for it was he), in a tone of voice almost sad.
“Recollect you, godfather; sure I do! Though you have been away so long;
I haven’t seen you since I was a wood-sprite, and that was a long time
ago, and now I am a water-nymph,” exclaimed Nettie, rubbing her head
into him, and clinging around him, laughing with joy.
“Wild as ever, Nettie?”
“Wild, yes! You know when I was a wood-sprite I could climb trees like a
squirrel; well, now, I am a sea-nymph—I can swim like a duck and dive
like a fish—ask granny if I can’t! cried Nettie, reiterating all her
exclamations of affection and delight, and repeating all her impetuous
caresses.
“It seems to me that you love me a little, Nettie?” said he, in the same
sad tone.
“Love you a little, godfather! Oh! just open your cloak and take me
inside next to you. Oh! just unbutton your coat, and button me up inside
of that, too. I love you well enough to let you swallow me, godfather,”
exclaimed the imp, nestling close to him with her arms about his neck,
her head tucked into his bosom, and wriggling with delight.
“Yes, you do love me—disinterestedly—poor, forsaken child! And you are
the only thing on earth that does love me,” said he, folding both arms
closely about her.
All this took place in a very few minutes, while Miss Joe was rising in
her corner, setting aside her wheel, smoothing down her apron, and
coming forward to meet her visitor, saying:
“Nettie, jump down this moment, and don’t trouble the ‘gentleman.’” But
Nettie clung tighter, and General Garnet held her closer. “General
Garnet, sir, it is an unexpected honor to see you here. Pray, come to
the fire and sit down. Hugh, shut that door, and set a chair for the
general, and throw more brush on the fire. General, do sit down, and
don’t let that wild child bother you so. Come down, Nettie, I say.”
“I sha’n’t, granny!”
“Never mind, Miss Joe, I like to have her here,” said General Garnet,
throwing off his cloak, seating himself in a large armchair at the fire,
and seating Nettie on his knee. “Well, my old friend, how does fate use
you nowadays?” he finally asked of the old lady.
“Oh, sir, very well, indeed; fust-rate, I thank you,” answered proud
Miss Joe.
“I am very glad to hear it,” commented her visitor, with one arm still
clasping Nettie, while he glanced sarcastically around the room.
Miss Joe did not perceive the irony, but she saw his suit of deep
mourning, and suddenly recollected that she might be expected to say
something appropriate to the occasion. So, composing her countenance to
funereal solemnity, she looked at General Garnet, and said, very
seriously, the following commonplace:
“We have heard of your heavy bereavement in the sudden death of your
wife, General Garnet, and we are very much grieved. But you know, sir,
death is the common lot of all. It is the only condition we can—can have
life on. It’s just as nat’ral as being born. And so, sir, I hope you’ll
be able to bear up under your fate like a philosopher. Besides which, it
is the will of God. And being just so, I trust you will have grace to
resign yourself to your trials like a Christian.”
“I trust so, I trust so,” replied General Garnet, speaking quickly; then
he added: “It augments my sorrow very much, however, to remember that it
was the misconduct of the daughter that precipitated the fate of the
mother.”
“Good Heaven! you don’t say so, sir!”
“Yes! you may as well know the truth, my good old friend. Elsie threw
herself entirely away; eloped and went off to the West with that
worthless beggar, Hardcastle,” said he, looking around to see the effect
of his words.
Hugh’s head sprang up with an expression of indignant astonishment,
denial, and defiance on his fine countenance.
Nettie gazed at him—appalled.
Miss Joe stared, with mouth and eyes all open with wonder, exclaiming:
“Good gracious, sir, you don’t tell me so. I heard something—but I
didn’t—I never—well, dear me—Lord a-mercy. Was it really that away,
arter all?”
“Yes: and now my good friend, my excellent friend, let us change the
subject; it is too painful; much too painful; even you can judge a
father’s and a husband’s feelings must be upon such an occasion. Let us
leave the agonizing topic, and never revert to it again. Let us turn to
a more agreeable subject. My dear little goddaughter, here,” said he,
bending over the child on his knee with his soft, bright smile—a smile
as charming as full, beautifully curved lips, pearly teeth, and a dark
mustache, and the spirit of Belial could make it; “my dear little
godchild here—she is a very fine little girl, and will one day, no
doubt, make a very accomplished woman. You have taken good care of her;
it is easy to see that. What rosy cheeks she has!”
“I have taken as good care of her as I could, sir—which being an old
woman—too old to follow after children—wan’t much.”
“I am under great obligations to you, Miss Joe, and must find some way
in which to repay you for the years of trouble and expense you have been
put to upon account of my little ward.”
“Not at all, sir; you owe me nothing,” said the proud old lady. “I have
always been a-t’iling, striving, saving soul; but I never saved
anything, as I thought anyone near me, ’specially a little child, was a
sufferin’ for. No, General Garnet, ef I am to be paid at this hour of
the day I had rather the Lord pay me. I don’t want you to take it out’n
his hands.”
General Garnet, turning to little Nettie, again took her hand, looked at
the beautifully-molded but sun-browned thing, and said, softly and
smilingly:
“You have a very pretty-shaped hand, my dear little girl. You ought to
take care of it. You ought to wear gloves.”
“Haint got any, godfather.”
“But you should get them or have them got for you. Why don’t you?”
“Couldn’t dig for maninosies or break brush with gloves on, godfather.”
“Why, you don’t do these shocking things?”
“Yes, indeedy! and I’m going coon hunting with Hugh next moonshiny night
that comes.”
“Next moonlight night that comes you will be in a very different looking
place from this,” said he, pushing the lurid black ringlets back gently
behind her ears, and noticing for the first time that sure index of
“gentle blood” in human kind or horses—the small and elegantly formed
ear.
“Where shall I be, godfather?”
“Never mind where! They have not bored your ears, Nettie!”
“No; I haven’t had my ears bored, but I saw a picture of an Indian with
his nose bored.”
“Pooh—yet, after all, one is about as barbarous as the other, little
Nettie. Nettie, my little girl, would you like to go home and live with
me?”
“Go home and live ’long o’ you! Um-m-m-me—no! I had rather you’d come
and live ’long o’ me.”
“Why?”
“’Cause I don’t want to leave granny; she wouldn’t have anybody to hug
her up and keep her back warm at night.”
“But if we were to take granny with us, too?”
“Um-m—me. Could you take Hugh along, too?” asked the child, with the
astute air of one making a shrewd bargain.
“No,” very decidedly answered General Garnet; adding, in a lower tone,
“No more childish friendships ripening into mature love.”
“Very well, then, godfather, if you love me, you’ll have to come and
live ’long of us; for I can’t go home ’long o’ you.”
“Why not, pray?”
“’Cause, godfather, how could Hugh live here by himself?”
“Well, little ‘Martha,’ anxious and troubled about many things, Hugh
need not live here by himself. Suppose I was to get a situation for
Hugh?”
“A what?”
“Suppose I were to put Hugh in the way of getting an honest living?”
“La, godfather, no white men about here except niggers ever get an
honest living, and I can’t let you black Hugh’s face and crisp his
hair—that’s black enough already—and make a nigger of him!”
“You silly child, you will let me make a lawyer, or a doctor, or a
parson of him, won’t you?”
Before Nettie could answer Hugh Hutton came up, cap in hand, and stood
facing General Garnet.
“Well, my boy?” said the latter.
“General Garnet, if you have any notion of taking Nettie away from here,
just look out for her and the old lady, who has had the care of her so
long, and never mind me. I can take care of myself. Nettie, darlin’,
never stop for me; I know what to do with myself. And now, general, as
long as I am talking to you, I must tell you I don’t believe one word
about Dr. Hardcastle’s being a worthless man, because I know he is a
good and great man; nor do I believe one word of Miss Elsie’s breaking
her mother’s heart, because—because I know she is as good as she is
beautiful. You needn’t be angry. I should have hated myself if I hadn’t
spoke out!” exclaimed the boy, his frank, brave spirit flashing boldly
from his eyes.
But the words had scarcely left the lips of Hugh before Nettie had
jumped to her feet, and administered a sound box on the ear to him,
exclaiming:
“Now! take that! Now, you make godfather out to be a story-teller
again!” And having given her sharp little lesson, Nettie sprung back to
her seat, and threw her arms again around his neck. General Garnet,
without seeming to have seen her action, regarded the boy with a sort of
gentle, dignified surprise and leisurely scorn, merely saying:
“Why, you impertinent young dog!”
Nettie sprang down a second time. General Garnet gently attempted to
restrain her, but she dashed his hands away, exclaiming:
“Let me alone, godfather. You are wicked and ugly, and I hate you. He’s
not an impudent young dog at all! he is my dear, gentle brother Hugh,”
she said, throwing herself about the neck of the boy, who folded his
arms around her.
“You must please to excuse Nettie, sir; indeed she is the wildest,
queerest child that ever was born. But then, you know, she was wild and
queer before ever I took her in hand,” said Miss Joe, who was all this
time busy with a saucepan over the fire; and a pitcher, a bowl, and some
eggs, sugar, and spices on a chair by her side.
“Nettie seems to have very little self-control or any other sort of
control,” dryly observed the general.
“Now if you aint mad long o’ granny. Just as if it was her fault. And
she making you mulled cider, too, to keep the cold out of your stomach.
And taking the top-knot hen’s eggs, too, that she was saving to set,
because they’re a first-rate breed of hens, that lay eggs all the
winter, and she wants more of them. And she had but six eggs, and now
she’s taken three to make you mulled cider to keep the cold from
striking to your stomach; and you to get mad long o’ her, and cut her up
short for nothing. Never mind him, granny. I’ll speak right up for you,
and take your part,” said Nettie, with her arms still clasped around
Hugh’s neck, looking at her guardian, who was regarding her with a smile
of mingled amusement and condescending toleration.
“Don’t you mind her, sir. Eggs aint no scarcity in this house; no, nor
anything else you could want. Would you like the leg of a cold turkey,
broiled, with a little currant jelly, sir? Or a few queen-cakes, with a
glass of good old sherry?”
“Why, granny, I thought you hadn’t——” began Nettie, but Hugh put his
hand over her lip and whispered:
“Don’t talk too much, Nettie. Go make friends with your guardian.”
Nettie turned, saw once more the tolerant, indulgent smile that was
beaming upon her, and, with her usual way of assimilating only the good
and the beauty of a mixed thing, sprang at once to his arms, to his
neck, and caressing him vehemently, asked:
“You are not mad with me, are you, godfather? I love you dearly! dearly!
’Deed I do, godfather!” And turning around his bushy face between her
little hands, she kissed him many times, repeating her question: “You
are not mad ’long o’ me, are you, godfather?”
“No, darling little Nettie, I am not.”
I have often thought that the spell of power that child held over that
man’s hard, stern, reserved nature was this: The blending of passionate
fondness with perfect freedom, frankness, and fearlessness in her
feelings and her manners toward him.
General Garnet then turned, and, addressing himself seriously to the old
lady, informed her that he thought the time had come for him to
discharge the great obligation under which he lay to his worthy deceased
friend, the late gallant Corporal Seabright, and redeem the promise made
to his widow when dying by taking care of the rearing, education, and
future fortunes of their orphan girl. That it was now expedient that his
dear little goddaughter and ward should be brought into proper restraint
and training; that, in order that this should be fittingly accomplished,
it was necessary that his sweet little ward should become an inmate of
his house, and live under his immediate protection and supervision;
that, being most unhappily a widower, and having no lady at the head of
his establishment to look after his household, and do the honors, he
should be under the necessity of engaging the services of some highly
respectable matron as housekeeper; that he thought no more competent
person for the duties of the position could be found in the world than
Miss Josephine Cotter, and, under all the circumstances, no one could be
found to fill the situation with such perfect propriety; that if she
chose to exchange her lodge on the isle for the housekeeper’s rooms at
Mount Calm, she might name her own salary, and he would come up to it or
exceed it.
Miss Joe’s eyes twinkled under her iron-bound spectacles, but she
hesitated to answer.
General Garnet gave her full time to digest his proposition, while he
toyed with the child upon his knee—telling her of her new home and new
prospects, as far as he thought she could comprehend them; promising her
new dresses, books, playthings, a pony, etc. Finally, he raised his head
and turned to Miss Joe, saying:
“Well, madam, have you reflected upon my proposition, and what do you
think of it?”
Miss Joe hemmed, cleared her throat, blew her nose, wiped the tears from
her eyes, rubbed her specs and replaced them, and then said:
She didn’t know. She was used to staying where she was. She had lived
there twenty odd years, and did not feel like leaving it at her time of
life. Besides, she must see what could be done for Hugh. She must take
time to consider. She couldn’t give an answer no way till next day.
General Garnet acceded to the short delay, and, smiling to himself,
arose to take leave; tasted and praised Miss Joe’s mulled cider; kissed
and fondly embraced little Nettie; nodded to Hugh Hutton; shook hands
with Miss Joe, and withdrew.