QUITE ANOTHER PAIR OF SOCKS!
Mr. Overshute had always been on good terms with Mrs. Fermitage, his
"advanced ideas" marching well with her political sentiments, so far
as she had any. And upon a still more tender subject, peace and
good-will throve between them. The lady desired no better suitor for
her niece than Russel Overshute, and had laboured both by word and
deed to afford him fair opportunity. Moreover, it was one of her great
delights, when time went heavily with her, to foster a quiet little
fight between young Russel and his mother. Those two, though filled
with the deepest affection and admiration for each other, could
scarcely sit half an hour together without a warm argument rising. The
late Mr. Overshute had been for years a knight of the shire, and for
some few months a member of the Tory Government; and this conferred on
his widow, of course, authority paramount throughout the county upon
every political question. How great, then, was her indignation, to
find subversive and radically erroneous principles coming up, where
none but the best seed had been sown. Three generations ago, there had
been a very hasty Overshute; but he had been meted with his own
measure, and his balance struck upon the block. This had a wholesome
influence on the family, while they remembered it; and child after
child had been brought up with the most correct opinions. But here was
the young head of the house, with a stiff neck, such as used to be
adjusted in a nick upon Tower-hill. Mrs. Overshute therefore spent
much of her time in lamenting, and the rest in arguing.
For none of these things Mrs. Fermitage cared. With her, the idea of
change was free. She had long rebelled against her brother's dictation
of the Constitution, and believed they were rogues, all the lot of
them, as her dear good husband used to say. "Port-wine Fermitage" went
too far when he laid down this law for the females. Without a particle
of ill-meaning, he did a great deal of mischief.
Now Mrs. Fermitage sat well up, in a chair that had been newly
stuffed. She was very uncomfortable; and it made her cross, because
she was a good-sized woman. She kept on turning, but all for the
worse; and her mind was uneasy at her brother's house. The room was
gone dark, and the lights going down, while Miss Mary Hookham was
revelling in the mansion of the Carrier. Nobody cared to hurry for the
sake of anybody else, of course; and Mrs. Fermitage could not see what
the good of all her money was.
The lady was all the more vexed with others, because her own
conscience was vexed with her; and as Overshute came with his quick,
firm step, she spoke to him rather sharply.
"Well, Russel Overshute, there was a time when you would not have left
me to sit in this sad way by myself all the evening. But that was when
I had pretty faces near me. I must not expect such attentions now!"
"My dear Mrs. Fermitage, I had no idea that you were even in the
house. The good Squire sent me a very nice dinner; but you did not
grace it with your presence."
"And for a very good reason, Russel. I have on my mind an anxiety
which precludes all idea of eating."
"Oh, Mrs. Fermitage, never say that! You have been brought up too
delicately."
"Russel, I believe that is too true. The world has conspired to spoil
me. I seem to be quite in a sad position, entirely for the sake of
others. Now, look at me, Russel; and just tell me what you think."
Overshute always obeyed a lady in little things of this kind. He
looked at Mrs. Fermitage, which really was a pleasant thing to do; and
he thought to himself that he never had seen a lady of her time of
life more comfortable, nicely fat, and thoroughly well dressed and
fed.
"My opinion is," he proceeded with a very pretty salaam and smile,
"that you never looked better in your life, ma'am! And that is a very
great deal to say!"
"Well, Russel, well," she answered, rising in good old fashion, and
curtsying; "your opinions have not spoiled your manners, whatever your
dear mother may say. You always were a very upright boy; and you
always say exactly what you think. This makes your opinion so
valuable. I shall shake off ten years of my life. But I really was
quite low-spirited, and down at heart, when you came in. I fear that I
have not quite acted for the best, entirely as I meant to do so. You
remember that horrible state of things, nearly two months ago, and my
great distress?"
"At the time of that wretched inquest? Yes; you were timid, as well
you might be."
"It was not only that. But the weather was so cold that I scarcely
knew what I was doing at all. Hard weather is to me as it is to a
plant, a delicate fern, or something. My circulation no longer is
correct; even if it goes on at all. I scarcely can answer for what I
am doing when they put me into cold rooms and bitter draughts. I feel
that the organs of my face are red, and that every one is looking at
me. And then such a tingle begins to dawn through the whole of my
constitution, that to judge me by ordinary rules is barbarous and
iniquitous."
"To be sure, to be sure!" answered Overshute, laying one finger on his
expressive nose, and wondering what was next to come.
"Yes, and that is the manner in which justice is now administered. The
canal was frozen, and the people of the inn grudged a quarter of a
hundredweight of coal. The people at the yards had put it up so, that
it would have been wrong to encourage them. I had ordered my own
stumps to be burned up, and the flower-baskets, and so on. Anything
rather than order coals, till the swindling dealers came down again.
And the Coroner sided with the price of coals, because he had three
top-coats on. The jury, however, with their teeth all chattering,
wanted only to be done and go. They were only too glad, when any
witness failed to answer when called upon; and having all made up
their minds outside, they were shivering to declare them. I speak now,
from what I heard afterwards."
"You speak the bare truth, Mrs. Fermitage. You have the best
authority. The foreman is your chimney-sweep."
"Yes; and that made him feel the cold the more. But you should see him
on a Sunday, Russel. He is so respectable, and his nails so white. I
will not listen to a word against him; and he valued my custom, on his
oath he did. 'What verdict does Missus desire?' he asked. And he made
all the rest go accordingly. Nobody knows what they might have sworn,
without a clever man to guide them."
"Of course. What can you expect? But still, you have something new to
tell me?"
"Well, Russel, new or old, here it is. And you must bear in mind how I
felt, and what everybody was saying. In the first place, then, you
must remember that there was a great deal said about a pair of my silk
stockings. Now, I shrank particularly from having an intimate matter
of that sort made the subject of public gossip. It was neither
becoming, nor ladylike, to drag little questions of my wardrobe into
the eye of the nation so. Already it was too much to know that a pair
of such articles had been found bearing my initials. Most decidedly I
refused, and I am sure any lady would do the same, to go into a hard
cold witness-box, and under the eyes of some scores of males proclaim
my complicity with such things. If I had seen it my duty, I would have
endeavoured to conquer my feelings; but of course I took it all for
granted that everything was too clear already. And my dear brother! I
thought of him; and thought of every one, except myself. Could I do
more, Russel Overshute?"
"Indeed, my dear madam, I do not see how. You would have come forward,
if necessary. But you did not see any necessity."
"Much more than that. There was much more than that. There was my duty
to my brother, stronger than even to my niece. He is getting elderly;
and for me to be printed as proving anything against his daughter,
would surely have been too much for him. He looked to me so for
consolation, and some one to say kind words to him, that to find me in
evidence against him might have been his death-blow. No consideration
for myself or my own feelings had the weight of a rose-leaf with me.
In the breach I would have stood, if I had followed my own wishes. But
my duty was to curb myself. You are following me, Russel, carefully?"
"Word for word, as you say it, madam; so far as my poor wits allow."
"Very well, then. I have made it quite clear. That is the beauty of
having to explain to clever people."
"I thank you for the compliment," replied Overshute, with a puzzled
look; "but I have not earned it; for I cannot see that you have told
me anything that I did not know some weeks ago. It may be my
stupidity, of course; but I thought that something had occurred quite
lately."
"Oh yes, to be sure! It was only to-day! I meant to have told you that
first of all. I was grossly insulted. But I am so forgiving that I had
forgotten it--quite forgotten it, until you happened to speak of it. A
peculiarly insolent proceeding on the part of poor Mrs. Sharp, it
appears--or, perhaps, some one for her; for everybody says that she
really now has no mind of her own. She did not write me one single
line, although I had written politely to her; and she sent me a
message--I am sure of it--too bad to be repeated. No one would tell me
what it was; which aggravates it to the last degree. I assure you I
have not been so upset for years; or, at any rate, not since poor
Grace was lost. And about that, unless I am much mistaken, that very
low, selfish, and plotting person, knows a great deal more than we
have ever dreamed. It would not surprise me in the least, especially
after what happened today, to find Mrs. Sharp at the bottom of all of
it. At any rate, she has aroused my suspicion by her contemptible
insolence. And I am not a person to drop a thing."
"Why, what has she done?" asked Overshute once more; while in spite of
impatience he could scarcely help smiling at poor Mrs. Fermitage's
petty wrath and frequent self-contradiction.
"What she did was this. She sent me back, not even packed in nice
white paper, not even sprinkled with eau de Cologne, not even
washed--what do you think of that?--but rolled up anyhow in brown
paper, the same as a drayman would use for his taps--oh, Russel, would
you ever believe it!"
"Certainly it seems very unpolite. But what was it she sent back to
you?"
"Not even the article I expected! Not even that ingredient of costume
which I had lent poor Gracie, very nice and pretty ones--but an old
grey pair of silken-hose, disgraceful even to look at! It is true that
they bear my initials; but I had discarded them long ago."
"What a strange thing!" cried Overshute, flushed with quick
excitement. "How reckless we were at the inquest! We had made up our
minds without evidence, on the mere faith of coincidence. And you--you
have never taken the trouble to look into this point until now--and
now perhaps quite by accident! We were told that you had recognised
the stockings; and it turns out that you never even saw them. It is
strange and almost wicked negligence."
"I have told you my motives. I can say no more," exclaimed Mrs.
Fermitage, with her fine fresh colour heightened by shame or anger.
"Of course, I felt sure--who could fail to do so?--that the stockings
found with my name on them must be the pair I had lent my niece. It
seemed most absurd that I should have to see them. It was more than my
nerves could bear; and the Coroner was not so unmanly as to force me.
Pray, did you go and see everything, sir?"
"Mrs. Fermitage, I am the very last person who has any right to
reproach you. I failed in my duty, far more than you in yours. In a
man, of course, it was a thousand times worse. There is no excuse for
me. I yielded to a poor unmanly weakness. I wished to keep my memory
of the poor dear, as I had seen her last. I should have considered
that the poor frail body is not our true identity----"
"Quite so, of course. And therefore, what was the use of your going to
see it? No, no, you behaved very well, Russel Overshute; and so did I,
if it comes to that. Nobody can be quite blameless, of course; and we
are told in the Bible not to hope for it. If we all do our duty
according to our inner lights, and so on, the Apostle can say no great
harm of us, in his rudest moment to the ladies."
"Let us settle that we both have done our best," said Russel very
sadly; knowing how far from the truth it was, but seeing the folly of
arguing.
"And now will you tell me, what made you send for those silk
ingredients of costume so suddenly; and then show them to me?"
"With pleasure, dear Russel. You understand me, when no one else has
any sympathy. I sent for them, or at least for what I fully expected
to be the ones, because an impertinent young woman, foolishly trusted
with very good keys, gave me notice to go, last evening. Of course she
will fly before I have a chance of finding how much she has
stolen--they all take very good care to do that; and knowing what the
spirit of the age is--dress, dress, fal-lals, ribbons, heels in the
air, and so on--I made up my mind to have a turn out to-day, and see
how much they had left me. No man can imagine, and scarcely any woman,
all the vexations I had to go through. Five pair and a half of
silk-hose were missing, as well as a thousand more important things;
and they all backed up one another. They stood me out to my face that
I never had more than eight pair of the Christchurch-Tom
stockings--excuse me for being so coarse, my dear; whereas I had got
the receipt for twelve pair from the man that sold them with the big
Tom bells on immediately above the instep. I happened to remember that
I had lent my darling Gracie pair No. 12, numbered, as all of them
were, downright. And so to confound those false-tongued hussies, I
came over here in search of them. Finding that they were not here--for
the lawyers, of course, steal everything--I was not going to be beaten
so. I sent as polite a letter as, after her shameful rudeness, any
lady could write, to Mrs. Luke Sharp--a poor woman who expected every
halfpenny of my dear husband's savings. How far she deserves them, you
have seen to-day. And sooner would I burn myself, like a sooty widow,
with all my goods evaporating, than ever leave sixpence for her to
clutch, after such behaviour. Russel, you will remember this. You are
my executor."
"My dear Mrs. Fermitage, I pray you in no way to be excited. We have
not heard all of the story, and we know that servants who are of a
faithful kind exaggerate slights to their masters. It was one of the
Squire's old servants who went. Your own would, perhaps, have known
better. But now, may I see the things Mrs. Sharp sent you?"
"You may. And you may take them, if you like. Or rather, I should say
that I beg you to take them. They ought to be in your custody. Will
you oblige me by taking them, Russel, and carefully inspecting them?
For that, of course, you must have daylight. Take them in the paper,
just as they came, and keep them until I ask for them. They can be of
no importance, because they are not what I lent to Gracie. Except for
my name on them, I am sure that I never could have remembered them.
They were darned in the days when I was poor. How often I wish that I
still were poor! Then nobody wanted to plot against me, and even to
steal my stockings! Oh, Russel, do you think they have murdered my
darling because she was to have my money?"
"No, I think nothing of the kind! I believe that our darling Grace is
alive; and I believe it tenfold since I saw these things! I am not
very old in the ways of the world; and my judgment has always been
wrong throughout. But my faith is the same as the grand old Squire's,
though forty years of life behind him. I firmly believe that, blindly
as we ourselves have managed everything, all will be guided aright for
us; and happiness, even in this world, come. Because, though we have
done no great good, we have done harm to no one; and the Lord in
heaven knows it! Also, He knows that we trust in Him, so far as the
trouble allows us. Very well; I will take these stockings home. You
shall hear from me on Monday. I believe that our Grace is alive; and
God will enable me to deliver her! Please Him, I will never leave off
till then!"
The young man looked so grand and strong in his faith, and truth, and
righteousness, that the elderly lady said no word, but let her eyes
flow, and kissed him. He placed the stockings in an inner pocket,
carelessly wrapped in their paper; and he rode home apace to please
his mother; and having a cold on him from all his wettings, he
perspired freely; and at every stretch of his galloping horse he was
absorbing typhus fever.