_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.
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