MY GENTLE MISTRESS.
I found Maythorn Lodge all and more than I either desired or expected.
It was called a lodge, but it was in reality a very substantial and
well-built family residence, about two miles on the Finchley Road.
The great tidal wave of bricks and mortar which has since flooded the
green fields of Finchley was yet far away, and the country round about
my new master’s home was very beautiful—almost as beautiful as the place
where I spent the first days of my life. London was not far away it is
true; but we had green trees on one side to shut out the view of the
dismal smoke, and from the other the wind came over Hampstead Heath,
bearing on its bosom the untainted perfume of green meadows and sweet
fields. I had a small, well-kept stable for a residence, and all my
wants were attended to by a lad of fourteen years of age, who in
addition to this helped the gardener in his work. A few words in passing
respecting this boy. I gathered from what I heard that he had been
originally one of the ragged unfortunates of the London streets, and
that Mr. Graham had taken him home as an experiment, to see what could
be done with those wretched outcasts. The experiment was on the whole
satisfactory. The boy—who went by the name of Roberts—was devotedly
attached to his master, and although he had bickerings with the other
servants, especially with the gardener, who most injudiciously cast
reflections upon his origin, he was on the whole a well-conducted youth.
For my own part, I must say he was an excellent lad to me, and we became
very much attached to each other.
Mr. Graham and his daughter were the only members of the household at
home; but there was a son at college, who, as far as reports were
concerned, was a very fine dashing young fellow—an object of great
interest to all in Maythorn Lodge. Miss Graham was, as her father had
declared, a great invalid. It was in the month of May that I took up my
residence at the Lodge, and the weather, warm and balmy as it was,
seemed to be too keen for the delicate frame. I remember her appearing
at the door as I drew up, with her fragile form wrapped up in cloaks and
furs, as if there were no sun shining in the heavens, and the keen
cutting blasts of winter were sweeping up from the adjoining heath. Her
face was beautiful, and there was a colour upon her cheeks which
rivalled the blush on a May-born rose; her eyes—blue, clear, and
thoughtful—were in harmony with the rich mass of golden hair which
clustered o’er her forehead, and fell in masses over her shoulders. But
beneath it all there lay something indefinable, something without a
name, which told me that the young life was fleeting. I read this in her
face, and I saw it plainer in the tender solicitude of the father, and
the anxious, sorrowful look he wore when her face was turned from his.
She came down, and before getting into the carriage stroked me upon the
neck. The touch, feather-like as it was, sent a thrill through my
frame—it was different to anything I had known for years.
‘It is an old horse,’ said Mr. Graham, ‘but a very quiet one. You want
air more than exercise, Nellie dear.’
‘It is a very nice horse, and will suit me,’ she said quietly.
Then they got into the carriage.
[Illustration: MISS GRAHAM ‘STROKED ME UPON THE NECK.’]
I felt by the touch that Miss Graham was driving me—a little experience
soon tells a horse who is behind him; and we soon entered upon a quiet
part of the road, when the gentle strain relaxed, and I was allowed to
have my own way. I trotted on, with an occasional walk, for an hour or
more, and then the reins tightened, and I was turned towards home.
All the way Nellie prattled to her father, and all her talk was what she
would do next summer. Next summer she would be so well and happy.
Archibald—that was her brother—would take his degree and be home for a
holiday; and Harry,—here her voice quivered a little—who loved her, and
was over the sea, would be back again. Next summer was to be everything
to her;—but she had entered upon her last summer here! To all this Mr.
Graham said little; but in every word he uttered I detected a ring of
sorrow and compassion: he knew what many others knew—that with her the
day was far spent, and the night coming on. Oh, how I pitied them both!
and I pitied them the more for the love I bore them—so kind, so gentle,
so tender to me, who had known the rough road of life, and felt the
thorns and briars which grow on every side. This day was but the type of
many. If the sun shone and the wind was soft we invariably went out: not
always the same road, but at all times seeking quiet thoroughfares,
where I was allowed to travel as I pleased. A happy time for me—I had
indeed fallen upon pleasant places. Well fed, well cared for, tenderly
spoken to, treated as a horse _should_ be, the days passed like hours,
and the weeks like days, and so the summer fled. With the autumn came a
change: our drives soon decreased in number, and at last entirely
stopped. This was what I had feared—what I had looked forward to with
dread and sorrow. My young mistress’s days were numbered, and she was—to
use one of the tenderest expressions from the lips of man—going home.
Her father knew, and all around her knew, that there was no hope; but
this doctor was sent for, and that doctor was sent for, and took their
fees, until the last. The only exercise I got was with Roberts, who took
me out for a canter two or three times a week; and it was through the
neighbours, who stopped the lad, to inquire how Miss Nellie was, that I
learnt what I did about her. The death so long threatening came at last.
The time is scored deep upon my memory, and the night my darling
mistress passed away I shall never forget. Her brother—who was studying
hard, so they said—was kept in ignorance of her condition almost to the
last. It was her wish, I believe—one of the many unselfish thoughts of
hers to which I could bear witness; and so when he came, the poor
flickering flame of life was nearly gone. In the afternoon of the
well-remembered day I heard Roberts tell the gardener that Miss Nellie
was not expected to live throughout the night. This aroused my already
absorbing interest, and touching with a ruder touch than I had known
before the cores of my heart, kept me alive to every word and movement
around me. The evening passed on, and the sun set amidst a mass of
wind-tossed clouds, and with the night came storm and rain. It raged
until midnight, and then the heavens cleared, and the stars came out
with their twinkling faces looking down upon the wondering earth,
emblems of peace, and rest, and hope. I was gazing at them through my
half-open stable door, when Roberts came in and threw himself upon the
straw, weeping bitterly; and the sorrow of the boy told me that all was
over!
[Illustration]
[Illustration]