_Ghosts_
IT was now Supper-time; and _Mark_, having lessened the Sense of his
Troubles by telling of them, although he began by thinking he could not
eat a Mouthful, ended by making a very hearty Supper. Indeed, he so much
commended the one or two simple Dishes set upon Table, and spoke so
strongly, though briefly, on the Subject of good and bad Cookery, that,
as it had been his Disposition to be contented with Anything that was
set before him in his unmarried Days, I set it all down to the
Discomfort of his late Life in the Forest. Afterwards I was disposed to
change my Mind about this, and to decide that Mistress _Blenkinsop_, who
in their early married Days had pampered and petted him amazingly,
(whereby his good Looks had suffered no little,) had really destroyed
the simple Tastes which were once so becoming in him, and had made him
Something of an Epicure.
After the Table was cleared, he drew near me again, and with real
Concern in his Manner, pressed me to tell him about my Father. I did so
from first to last, with many Tears; adding thereunto my nursing of
Master _Blower_. He sighed a good many Times as I went on, and after I
had done; exclaiming at last, “What a Difference between you and me!”
“All People have not the same Qualifications,” said I.
“No,” said he, and seemed to think I had now hit the right Nail on the
Head.
“And _Violet_——” said he, after a Pause, and colouring deeply. “Is she
quite well, _Cherry_?”
“Quite,” I said; and could think of Nothing more to say.
“I wonder,” said he in a low Voice, as if he were almost afraid to hear
the Echo of his own Thoughts, “whether she would now have Anything to
say to me?”
I said, looking away from him, “Such Questions as that should only be
put to the Parties concerned.”
“You are right,” said he; and sat a long While silent, leaning his Head
upon his Hand. At length, he said, “I am rich now, and she is poor,
_Cherry_.”
I said, “Riches and Poverty don’t make much Difference, _Mark_, when
People really love one another.”
“As I have loved—” said he.
I said, “It is Bed-time now, and here is _Dolly_ coming in to Prayers.”
The next Morning, he said he must go to the _Lord Mayor_ about his
House. For the abandoned Effects of such Families as were entirely swept
away and left no known Heirs, went to the _King_, who made them over to
the _Lord Mayor_ and _Aldermen_, to be applied to the Use of the Poor;
and _Mark’s_ Absence had made it appear that his Property was in that
Case.
Soon after he was gone, the uncommon, and, I may almost say,
unparalleled Event occurred to me of receiving a Letter; I was so
surprised at the Circumstance, that for the Moment, I thought it must be
_from my Father_; or, at least, to tell me he was alive. But no, it was
from Master _Blower_; and this was what he put in it:
[Illustration]
“_Bucklands Hall, Berks._
“_Oct. 27, 1665._
“Dear Mistress _Cherry_,
“On first coming down here, I was so ill at Ease and out
of Sorts, as to require much Care and Nursing. Heaven be
praised, I am now well, and I hope you are the same. Though the
Pinks and Gilly-flowers are pretty well over, there are still
some gay Autumn Flowers in the old Garden with the Iron Gate;
and my Brother, the Squire, and his good Wife want to see the
brave Mistress _Cherry_ who nursed me through the Plague. So
come down to us, dear _Cherry_, to-morrow, if you can. _John_,
the Coachman (a steady Man), will be at your Door, with a white
Horse and a Pillion, at Seven o’ the Clock. And be so good, if
it will not be inconvenient to you, as to bring my Sister-in-Law
a little Mace and green Ginger; and also (on my Account) one of
those Saffron-cakes they used to be so famous for at the Bridge
foot.
“Your faithful and obliged Friend,
“NATHANAEL BLOWER.
“If you don’t come, you must write.”
Here was an Event! An Invitation to the Country was a still more
startling Occurrence than the Receipt of a Letter. Many of the
Circumstances connected with it were delightful; but then, it seemed so
strange, so awful, to go to stay with People I had never seen, ... such
grand People, too! I that was so unused to fine Company, and did not
know how to behave!—And Master _Blower_ knew all this, knew exactly what
I was, and yet had prevailed with them to say they should be happy to
see me!—Oh, his Goodness of Heart had this Time carried him too far!
They had said so just to please him, without expecting I should go!—And
yet, if the Lady were _very_ much put to it for Mace and green
Ginger.... And if Master _Blower’s_ Heart were very much set upon giving
her the Saffron-cake.... I supposed I had better go. If I found myself
very much out of Place, I could come away the next Day.
Then I thought I would go and consult _Violet_; for, in Fact, I wanted a
little persuading to do what I very much liked. So I stepped across the
Bridge. The Shop was open, but nobody was in it; so I went to the
Parlour Door, and opened it.
Directly I had done so, I saw _Violet_ and _Mark_, sitting close
together, their Backs to me, and his Arm round her Waist. I closed the
Door so softly that they did not know it had been opened, and went Home.
A Pang shot through my Heart. It was entirely on their own Accounts, for
I had ceased, for Years, to have Anything but a most sisterly Concern in
him; and his Character, compared with those of the People I had most
loved, failed to stand the Test: but I thought this was too quick, too
sudden, to be quite comely or decent; there was too much Passion, too
little Self-respect.
I now made up my Mind without any more Hesitation, that I would go into
the Country. I gave my parting Directions to _Dolly_, and desired her to
let _Mark_ have Things comfortable. Then I made up my little
Travelling-equipage, not forgetting my Commissions. Being in fresh,
well-made Mourning, there was no Trouble or Anxiety about Dress. I quite
enjoyed the pleasing Bustle of Preparation, though I did not expect to
be absent longer than a Week.
_Mark_ was not very punctual to the Supper-hour; and as he said Nothing
of his Visit over the Way, I was to conclude him all Day at my _Lord
Mayor’s_ or in _Cheapside_. But the deep Carmine of his Cheek and the
burning Light of his Eye, told Tales. I asked him if he had dined. He
carelessly replied yes, with a Friend. I asked him if he had seen the
_Lord Mayor_. He said yes, it had been a more troublesome Business than
he expected: they had asked him so many searching Questions, and had got
the whole Story out of him. He feared he had cut a sorry Figure. At any
Rate, he had in his own Sight. Then I asked him whether he had got back
his House. He said yes, and had put an old Woman into it, who had
undertaken to fumigate it. Everything seemed sealed up, but he could not
help fearing many Things were gone. The old Place looked so dismal, he
came away as soon as he could.
After a Pause, he said, “_Cherry_, I feel a strong Inclination to get
rid of that Concern altogether. The Situation is capital, and I shall
get Something for the Business; but I have a great Mind to set up
somewhere else; and though your Father’s was a much smaller Business
than ours, yet my happiest Hours have been passed under this Roof; and
if you like to give up the Shop to me, I will give for it whatever I get
for my own. And you can still live with us.... I mean, we can still live
here together. What say you, _Cherry_?”
I said, “Dear _Mark_, I have no Wish to receive for these Premises what
you get for your own. The Shop you are welcome to; the Business you will
have to remake for yourself, for it has dwindled quite away; I shall be
very glad to continue to live with you as long as you like to have me.”
“We ... I shall _always_ like to have you, _Cherry_,” said he, “for
there is only one Person dearer to me in the whole World.”
“My Father has left me so comfortably provided,” said I, “that I shall
never need to be a Burthen on any one.”
“I am glad of it for your own Sake,” returned he; “but, as to my taking
up the Business without paying for it, that is not to be thought of.
Whatever I get for mine, you shall have for yours.”
“So let it stand at present, at any Rate,” said I. “Henceforth, the Shop
is yours. And, _Mark_, you will have the whole House to yourself
to-morrow, for I am going into the Country.”
“Where?” said he, opening his Eyes very wide.
“To _Bucklands Hall_, in _Berkshire_; to stay with Master ... with
Squire and Mistress _Blower_.”
A broad Smile spread over his Face. “I am very glad indeed to hear of
it, _Cherry_,” said he.—“_Very_ glad of it.”
Afterwards, as we sat chatting over our Supper, we got on the Subject of
Ghosts. He asked me if I believed in them. I said no.
“Well, I do,” said he, sighing. And told me of a Story he had had from
the Servant of Sir _Richard Hart_, who, travelling with his Master, had
been summoned by him early one Morning, and charged to ride Home with
all Speed, a Distance of seventeen Miles, and see how fared his
Daughter, whom he conceited to have seen in the Night, standing at his
Bed-foot, with her Hand pressed to her Head. The Man rode back as he was
told; and returned with the News that the young Lady had indeed been
taken ill about four o’Clock that Morning, but had had a Doctor with
her, and was now pretty well again. However, in the Course of the Day
she died.
I said, “Her Father, in a Dream, may have had so strong an Impression he
was waking, that to him it had all the Effect of being awake.”
“But such a Dream as should so raise the Dead, or pre-figure their
Death, _Cherry_,” said _Mark_, “would be as bad as if they _were_
raised—to _us_.... I think I, for one, could not stand it.” And I saw
then why he was afraid to return to his own House.
We talked the Matter quietly over for some Time; and I asked him why, if
the Course taken by Divine Providence in the Administration of human
Affairs ever admitted of the Re-appearance of the Dead, the recorded
Cases of such supposed Appearances should only be to frighten some timid
Person, restore a Bag of Gold, or acquaint some one with what they would
otherwise know a few Hours after. This appeared to strike him; but he
said it might be for the Sake of Warning. I said, If for Warning, why
not for Comfort? How glad should I have been, for Instance, to be
informed supernaturally that all was well with my Father? He said, not
_that_ Way, surely. I replied yes, that Way or any Way that it had
pleased the ALMIGHTY to vouchsafe me such Knowledge. I should not be
afraid (and there was an Intensity of Earnestness in me as I said it) to
see either him or my Mother, either in or out of the Body.
“Well,” muttered he, half under his Breath, “I wish I could feel as much
with regard to my Wife.” And, regarding me with some Earnestness, added,
“You’re a bold little Thing, _Cherry_!”
As I wished him Good-night, he stayed me for a Moment, and said, with
all his old Frankness and Trust, “_Violet_ and I have made Things out
between us, _Cherry_.”
I said fervently, “Then, may you both be happy. My Belief is, that she
is likelier to make you happy now, than she was before.”
“Not quite so pretty, though,” said he, rather regretfully. “However, I
don’t mind that.—For, you see, _Cherry, I love her_!”
[Illustration]
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