IV

I never saw Samuel Edward Wilkinson again for a great many years--in

fact, not until he came back to the village to marry his cousin Keziah.

It was then publicly announced that Samuel and Keziah had been engaged

since early youth--but anybody who knew anything was very well aware of

the truth that the marriage was now hastened because Keziah's father was

dead and had left her a thousand pounds. During those intervening years

Samuel Edward had been steadily pursuing his way towards his conception

of manhood. He had spent several years in London, and never wore

anything in the way of head-covering but a silk hat.

"Yes, Poskitt," he said, "it's taken me a long time, but I've saved

enough money at last--with Keziah's little fortune thrown in, of

course--to buy my first master's business. It's a very serious thing,

is business, you know, Poskitt, and so is marriage. But Keziah's a

capable girl, you know, Poskitt--very capable."

As Keziah was then quite forty years of age, her capability was

undoubted, but it seemed to me that Samuel Edward had been a long time

making up his mind.

"And where's the young lady of the early days?" I asked him.

He stroked his whiskers and shook his head.

"Well, you know, Poskitt," he replied, "it's a very unfortunate thing

that she, of course, resides in the very town where I've bought my

business."

"Is she married?" I asked.

"No," he answered, "no--she's not married, Poskitt. Of course I

couldn't think of marrying her when Keziah was able to put her hands on

a thousand pounds. After all, everybody's got to look after Number One.

It's a very anxious time with me just now, Poskitt, I do assure you.

What with getting married and setting up a business, I feel a great deal

of responsibility. If you're ever our way (and I expect you'll be

coming to the cattle markets), call in, and I'll show you the

improvements I've made. It's a very fine position, Poskitt, but it's a

difficult thing in these days for a man to get his own."

V

Samuel Edward's name duly appeared in blazing gilt on the powder-blue of

the old sign, and he and Keziah settled down in a suburban street in

company with a handmaiden and a black-and-tan terrier. Their lives were

discreet and orderly, and they went to the particular Dissenting

community which they affected at least once every Sabbath Day. At eight

o'clock every morning Samuel Edward repaired to business; at seven in

the evening he returned home to pour out his woes to Keziah. One of his

apprentices had done this; an assistant had done that; a customer had

fled, leaving a bill unpaid. Keziah, who was as keen on money-making as

her husband, was invariably sympathetic in these matters, which were

about the only things she understood, apart from her knowledge that her

thousand pounds was in the business. She and Samuel Edward were both

resolved on making money.

And suddenly came a thunderstorm over their sky. The little dressmaking

lady, having been formally engaged to Samuel Edward for long years,

finding herself jilted, suddenly awoke to the knowledge that she had a

spirit, and caused the faithless one to be served with a writ for breach

of promise. And Samuel Edward's men of law, going into the matter, told

him that he had no defence, and would have to pay.

Samuel Edward took to his bed, and refused to be comforted. Keziah

wept, entreated, cajoled, threatened--nothing was of use. All was over,

in Samuel Edward's opinion. The other side wanted the exact amount

represented by Keziah's dowry--one thousand pounds. Samuel Edward lay

staring at the stencilled wall-paper, and decided that life was a

distinct disappointment. He would die.

Then Keziah took matters in hand. She, with the help of an astute man,

paid the thousand pounds--whereupon the little dressmaker, who was still

well under forty, promptly married another. And then Keziah literally

tore Samuel Edward out of bed, shook him into life, and gave him to

understand that from that day forward he would have to work harder,

earlier, and later than he had ever done before. And Samuel Edward fell

to--under a ceaseless and never-varying supervision.

Mr. Poskitt's Nightcaps: Stories of a Yorkshire Farmer · 第 11 / 14 题