We both slept that night, Lotty and I, in a large bed-room separated from uncle and aunt's by an ante-room. The folding windows, as in all the rooms, opened upon the balcony, and were only shaded by venetian blinds, which allowed of seeing clearly out, but not into the room. We were dropping asleep when Charlotte suddenly exclaimed in a drowsy voice: "By the way, Mechie, did aunty say anything to you about going away? She told me this evening she was—where to, I wonder?—and, from what she said, evidently intends leaving us behind—a thing she has not done before."
Of the four beloved beings comprising my heart's home (aunt, uncle, Lotty and Susan), our gentle Aunt Rossiter was the most dear to me, and the thought of being separatedfrom her, even for a day, was more inexpressibly painful to me than until thus tried I had conceived possible. Starting up and leaning on my elbow, I looked at Charlotte, saying: "No, she did not tell me. What did she mean? What was she alluding to when she said it?"
"Oh, I can't remember that," replied Charlotte, pettishly; to her the matter did not seem one of much interest. "And indeed, Mechie, I wish you would not fly up in that extraordinary manner, just as if I had told you poor, quiet aunty had talked of setting the hotel on fire. Do try and be more rational, and less of an uncontrolled child. At this hour of the night especially your wild behaviour quite worries me. Lie down and go to sleep. Aunty will be sure to tell us all about it to-morrow."
"Oh, Lotty, I can't sleep till you tell me all you know. Please do—everything she said."
"But I have nothing to tell you, for the simple reason that aunt, as I said, refused toanswer my questions. So now, pray, do not talk any more. The matter is not worth the fuss you are making, and I am very sleepy." Thereupon Charlotte turned her back to me.
"Lotty, look here! just tell me, word for word, what aunty said about going away, and what led to her saying it at all, and I won't disturb you any more to-night, I won't indeed."
"Dear me! what a nuisance you are, Mechie, with your curiosity and your questions!" cried Charlotte, impatiently. "Well, remember you are to keep to your word, for it's little enough I have to tell you, and little satisfied you will be with it, any more than you are now; but I can't help that, bear in mind. Let me see: aunt had been giving me a lecture on the subject of truthfulness, though why I cannot conceive, for no person is more truthful than I am. I hate a falsehood, and never utter one—though I don't pretend to say I go headforemost at everything in the steeplechase fashion you do,"continued she, correcting herself rather, as the "cloud-hand" rose to her recollection as last she saw it creeping through a cleft on the mountain top. "I do not consider that necessary for either the sense or truthfulness of anything."
"But, Lotty," I said in a deprecatory voice, fearing to offend her, "don't you remember what uncle said?"
"Don't bring forward what uncle and aunt say about the matter," broke in Charlotte, impatiently. "They are full of old-fashioned notions on that and many other points not worth repeating."
I felt my cheeks burn at this contemptuous treatment of opinions I perfectly reverenced, but continued gently: "What uncle said would be just as applicable to any period, past or present. He said that if in describing any circumstance, conversation, or even feelings, the narrator omitted or altered the smallest part, with deceptive intent to change the character of the whole statement and produce a different impression on the mindsof the hearers than a straightforward account of the simple facts would have done, it was tantamount to asserting a positive falsehood, since 'lying is but the intention to deceive;' and that phase of it is as hateful and sinful in the sight of God as any other."
"According to that, then, an abridged book, in which all that is objectionable is left out, is not worth reading, because the remainder, though good, gives rise to an erroneous impression of the whole."
"That is hardly a good illustration, Lotty," I answered. "It admits of many positions, which truth does not."
"I don't see how that can be," objected Lotty.
"Well, this one alone is sufficient: In altering a book by, as you say, leaving out the objectionable parts, the motive could only be a good one, and not under any circumstances with an intention of deceiving; it is done with a wish to render the work to all readers harmless."
At this juncture Charlotte gave so loud asnort in pretended imitation of snoring that it quite startled me.
"Oh, Lotty!" I cried, "how could you?"
"What is it, dear? what's the matter?" cried the naughty thing in a well-assumed bewilderment.
I could not resist laughing a little, exclaiming, "Oh, for shame, Lotty!" Then anxiously I begged her to answer my first question regarding aunt's allusion to going away.
"Dear me, Mechie!" cried my sister; "I do wish you would let me go to sleep! What a pest you are, to be sure, when you get anything into your head! I'm sorry I was goose enough to tell you a word about it till to-morrow morning, when you might have talked and queried as much as you liked, and I could have listened and answered as much or as little as I liked. However, this is all I know of the matter, so now listen for once and all. Aunty, as I told you, was scolding away—"
I could not withstand an interruption:"Poor aunty scold! she never did such a thing in her life!"
"Well, lecturing then; and in my opinion that's worse; I would rather a good deal have one of Susan's scoldings. Short and sharp, they always either frighten or anger me, which prevents my feeling weary and sleepy, both which sensations afflict while undergoing a lecture from dear, good, well-meaning aunty."
"Please go on, Charlotte," I interrupted. Nothing was more unpleasant to me than this style of flippant invective toward our generous benefactors which Lotty was so fond of indulging in. She thought it witty, I know, and it was this, I felt sure, which instigated her to exercise so unamiable a humour, and not any want of affection for them.
"I am going on faster than you like, or you wouldn't say that, Miss Mechie," she said; "however, I have no wish to lose time. After aunty had lectured me to her heart's content she kissed me, and concluded withthese words in a lower voice that trembled, I thought, a little: 'I shall not be always with you, my love. I may not be so long, even. God only knows;' and then she added something about wishing to her heart that before she left us we should both have become all that is pleasing to our heavenly Father. I asked her what she meant and where she was going to, but she only answered, 'We will not talk of that now,' and made me finish the account of our evening's adventure; and that's all I can tell you, so good-night!"
"Oh, I wonder you could have forgotten aunt's words until only just now!" said I in a low, unsteady voice.
"There's nothing particular to remember in them that I can see," replied Charlotte, carelessly; "people must be separated sometimes; aunt is going on a visit for a little while, no doubt. She has not left home by herself within my memory—that is, without us—and it is high time she should begin, I think. But now go to sleep, do; I have toldyou everything, and if you talk any more, I won't answer you, so do not trouble me any longer, I beg of you." Thereupon she again turned her back, and in a few minutes I distinguished by her regular breathing she was fast asleep.
Not so with myself. I could not sleep; every wish to do so was gone, chased away by my sister's words, and I lay looking out on the balcony, that appeared white as snow beneath the silver moonlight. What did aunt mean? why had she not told me? and why when saying it to Charlotte did her voice lower and tremble? Those changes must have been conspicuous indeed for my careless sister to have observed them. Then came back suddenly to my recollection the words spoken by aunt, which, though not understood by me at the time, nevertheless took such painful hold upon my heart: "For indeed, my dear children, I am not strong, and it would be no light matter to me to experience the hours of anxiety," etc. Coupling this sentence with the announcement made to Charlotte, couldit be? did she know it? was she—was she going to die?
This thought, which seemed to flash like fire through my brain, sent a rush of agony to my heart beyond my power to lie still and endure. Softly leaving the bed, I stole to the window and sat down, and gazed for some time with tearless, unconscious eyes on the singular view, white and ghost-like in the moonbeams. Our kind, gentle, loving benefactress—oh, more than that, our tender, devoted mother!—was she going to die? going to leave us? Were we never again to meet in this world? to hear her soft, earnest voice? be encouraged and brightened by her affectionate smile?
The hour, the wild loneliness of the place and the death-like stillness within and without sharpened these reflections to a degree of keenness which for a while quite bewildered me by the intensity of their misery, they were so new, so sudden and so unprepared for; for though always delicate, our cheerful, enduring, uncomplaining aunt wasone of the very last people with whom I should of myself have connected the chill, dreary idea of death; for—alas that so it is and ever will be!—darkness and cold and dreariness are the brief attributes of death to our mortal nature, and we shrink from it even when the sting is removed and the grave no longer triumphs.
But now, the perception once awakened, one remembrance after another came thronging to my mind, until dread doubt became an overwhelming certainty, and bowing my face in my hands upon my knees, I wept such tears as I had never before shed in my young life. Nor did they bring me that relief the tears of childhood had hitherto done; they were hot and scalding, and seemed but to scorch my pained heart. After a while I bethought me I was not acting as aunt would approve, and how unhappy it would make her were she now to see me thus hopelessly and rebelliously yielding myself up to sorrow. Sliding down upon my knees, I prayed long and ardently—prayed that dear aunt might bespared. Oh, never before had I experienced more truly the feeling of praying from my soul and heart as I did now! My whole being trembled with the fervour of my petitions. I wished to pray for our good, kind uncle, that support might be given him, if God, in his divine wisdom, still saw best to remove her from amongst us, and for a spirit of submission in myself, but I could not. I felt as if it were impossible any amount of support could in the slightest degree reconcile us to a loss that seemed like wrenching away the principal part of our very existence. I grew more calm, however, for prayer will always bring a peace to the believer's heart which the whole world cannot give at such times, and presently I returned again to my bed and to a dreamy sleep extending later into the beautiful morning than I wished.
The bright sunshine, the soft voice of birds, whose songs in that clime, though brief and broken, are peculiarly melodious, the glow and glitter and warm stir of life above, below and on every side, were altogether so little in unison with the sad thoughts which had agonized my mind the previous night that my spirits, buoyant with youth, yielded to these cheering influences, and began to rise again to their own level. Hope struggled within my heart, and so far succeeded that, as I pursued my morning's walk through the sweet garden and over the memorable plank bridge to the Flats, I commenced to question with myself whether Lotty's view of the case might not after all be the right one, and that the more likely because her cooler,quieter judgment would favour her discerning the truth more clearly than my anxious disposition admitted of. Perhaps dear aunty was only meditating a short visit to some friend's house, and could not conveniently take us with her as heretofore. Yes, I would hope and wait.
MECHIE AND THE GARDENER
MECHIE AND THE GARDENER.
page 75
page 75
On my return home after a more agreeable wander over the Flats than I had dared to anticipate upon first setting off, and as I was passing through the garden, I saw a man at work beside the path I was coming down. Hearing my steps, he turned sharply and looked at me from under his beetling brow. What a disagreeable look it was!—like that of a savage wild animal meditating a spring at me. Never before, I thought, had it fallen in my way to meet with a human being of so repellant an appearance as this man had, both in face and form. He evidently possessed great muscular strength, judging from his short, broad form and large head, which latter, as he took off his cap to wipe his forehead with a very unrefreshing-looking redhandkerchief, displayed a thick growth of matted black hair, wiry and curling. I must confess that as I thought of the loneliness of the garden and my possession of a beautiful gold watch and chain—the latter worn conspicuously in front of my dress, and which were the gifts of my kind uncle and aunt on my last birth-day—I felt very uncomfortable at having to bring so tempting a prize closely within his reach. Encouraging myself with the reflection that not only was his occupation a harmless one, but that he must have received some sort of recommendation to induce Rathfelder to engage him as a servant, I came slowly up to him as with a concluding scratch of his head, which he gave in a savage kind of way, he thrust his handkerchief into his pocket and replaced his cap. From very nervousness—a feeling akin, I afterward thought, to that which, with so strange and irresistible a power, draws the poor bird into the jaws of the rattlesnake—I stopped and wished him good-morning as pleasantly as I could,to which civil greeting he merely vouchsafed a grunt.
"I suppose you are Mr. Rathfelder's gardener?" I suggested, wishing to further propitiate him.
"I s'pose I be—leastways, he thinks so," he answered in a compound tone of fierceness and sulkiness.
"Well, but are you not?" I repeated, puzzled by so doubtful a reply, and still less reassured by his words and manner.
"I don't mean to be so long, that's sartin." He seemed determined to avoid giving me a straightforward answer, and as I stood perplexed and casting about in my mind what next to do or say, he added abruptly, "John Rathfelder don't pay me wages enough, that's the fact; and if he won't, I shall cut, that's all."
"I have always understood that Mr. Rathfelder is a generous, liberal master," I objected, in some surprise. "Surely there is some mistake. Did you engage with himself or through another?"
"There's no mistake about it," he rejoined, roughly. "I'll tell 'ee what it is," he added, speaking with fast-increasing fierceness, for the unlucky subject was one which evidently excited very bitter feelings, "it don't follow that what be liberal to some be so to all. He might be liberal enough to them 'ere stoopid black critters, but if he thinks Joe Blurdon will put up wi' the like he'll find himself in the wrong box, that's all."
"What country do you belong to?" I asked, feeling more and more uncomfortable as I detected his wild, glittering eyes, which boldly stared at me, frequently fastening themselves with, I thought, a hungry, rapacious look upon my gold chain, which he no doubt supposed to be attached to a valuable watch within my belt.
"Hinglish, to be sure!" he answered, with a look and tone of indignant surprise at, he considered, so unnecessary a question. "I be Hinglish, and don't want to be nothing else."
How much I wished some one would come into the garden, and break the spellboundfeeling which, despite my fear and dislike of this man, kept me against my will rooted to the spot!
"Is not Rathfelder as good a paymaster as all other land-owners at the Cape?" I asked.
"I got a deal better wages when I drove a bullock-wagon up country," he answered in his usual evasive way; "I had five pun a week, and my wittles; and John Rathfelder, he gives me two pun ten a week, and I 'ont go on wi' it."
My worst suspicions were awakened by this acknowledgment of his former occupation, for of all reckless characters the wagon drivers amidst the savage wilds of Africa are considered among the worst. Nevertheless, despite all my apprehensions and his forbidding looks, an inclination I could not withstand impelled me to say a word of advice and warning to his darkened soul. I was as yet unskilled in such style of speaking; but no matter, thought I; I hold the seed in my hand, and I will at least cast it on the earth, and leave the rest to that merciful God whohas declared of his word that it shall not return unto him void. Besides, I really felt a sort of pity for the man, who was evidently unhappy. Dashing abruptly into the subject, I exclaimed, "Oh, don't go back again! don't go back to those savage, godless places! how do you know but that the Almighty, in pity to your uncared for, uncaring condition, has himself worked out your return to this Christian, civilized part of the world, where you can hear his word and be taught his laws in order to save your soul and bring you in the end to himself? And oh, think how soon that end might be at hand! What is the longest life in comparison with eternity, an eternity—according to how you live in this world—of woe unutterable or of such joy as the heart of man hath not conceived? Stay at the Cape—do—and go to church every Sunday, and pray to God to make you all that is pleasing in his eyes. You will be happier, I promise you, than you have ever been while living without God in the world, even though your wages are far less."
It was clear that he had never before been so addressed, and the mixed and varied expressions which came and went like light and shade over his dark, hard face were curious to see.
"My mother was one of your sort, and as good an 'ooman as ever lived; I mind that, though I was young when first I left her," he said with a more softened voice than before.
After a short silence, during which I endeavoured to recover from the excitement which almost took away my breath,
"Is she still alive?" I asked.
"Still alive?" he repeated, abstractedly, "yes—leastways, she was when I last heered from her."
"Then you can write and read? and you keep up a correspondence with her? Only think how nice to be able to tell her you are living a respectable, religious life in Cape Town, and that you are looking forward to meeting her again in another and happier world, if not at home. Wouldn't that make her very glad?"
In speaking of his mother, I saw I had touched the one chord which still rang out in unison with one of the best and holiest of human feelings and sympathies. I saw it in the changed tone of his voice and in the softened look of his face, that contrasted strangely with its general expression of ferocious recklessness and degradation. But my last words proved a sad failure, for to my extreme terror and astonishment his manner suddenly and completely changed; all that was hopeful and gentle vanished at once from his features, which resumed their former wild-animal style of fierceness, distrust and dislike.
"I'll tell 'ee what, miss, I don't like this at all, I don't!" he exclaimed, savagely. "I sees what it is. Some mean, cowardly-hearted villain has been a telling on me, and have set you on to trap me. That's the fact!"
His eyes gleamed and glared so ferociously I felt frightened half out of my wits. In vain I assured him he was mistaken, that no one had spoken to me about him in any way,that in truth I was ignorant of his very existence until I saw him in the garden.
"He didn't believe me," he said, "not a word, and I ought to be ashamed of myself, that I ought, to be a-preaching at him one minute and telling lies the next."
Of course I am obliged to leave out some of his words while thus condemning me, they were so profane and dreadful. "I was a good-for-naught wench," he concluded, "and he'd have nothing more to do with me." Thereupon he struck his spade energetically into the earth and resumed his digging.
As much grieved and disappointed as terrified by the failure of a success so near attainment, I stood hesitating whether or not to make another attempt; but the determined, dogged expression of his countenance and every movement deterred me, and sorrowfully I left the garden.
When again, during breakfast, my eyes rested on the pale, sweet face of Aunt Rossiter, the recollection of last night's painful fears concerning her almost chased away morerecent feelings, and I resolved I would take the first opportunity which offered during the morning to ask her the meaning of those words she had spoken to Lotty which had caused me so much distress. After a while I related my conversation with the gardener and its mortifying termination.
"Such a result is not to be wondered at, my little Mechie," uncle said, smiling encouragingly on this my first serious attempt to turn an erring fellow-creature from the path of sin. "I was walking up and down the stoop a little while ago with mine host Rathfelder, and this gardener passed at the time, and impressed me, as he did you, with an unpleasant feeling of what a singularly unprepossessing-looking being he was. It seems Rathfelder's former gardener was old and sick and obliged to give up work, and Joe Blurdon, as he calls himself, was engaged a few weeks ago to supply his place. The exigencies of the case—for no other labourer in that capacity could be obtained just then—prevented our landlord from being as particularregarding character as he usually is, and he unfortunately contented himself with receiving a short, unsatisfactory recommendation from his last master, for whom he had worked a very little while, and whose place is the only one he has filled with the exception of Rathfelder's since his coming to the Cape. He is drunken, idle, discontented and altogether worthless, the landlord says, and is to leave his service in a few days. So you see, my darling Mechie, if you had succeeded, as in your amiable heart you wished, in making a convert of that misguided man, you would indeed have achieved a great victory."
To my extreme satisfaction—for there was a vast deal in this wild, out-of-the-world place which particularly took my fancy—uncle and aunt decided upon our remaining a week at Rathfelder's Hotel. Dear aunt had passed a better night than she had done for a long while, Uncle Rossiter said, which made him desirous of trying the effect of a longer stay, and he should go home that day to arrange accordingly and bring back Susan to attend us.
Aunt met my examining eyes fixed upon her—oh, she knew not how anxiously—and smiled lovingly upon me. It was a bright smile, and yet a sad one too. Ah me! what keen note I was beginning to take of every look and tone which came from her now!
"But why can't you sleep, aunty?"inquired Charlotte, carelessly. "Aren't you well?"
"One thing is certain, dear Lotty: we cannot expect always to enjoy the same health," she replied, I thought evasively. "By-the-bye," she continued, abruptly changing the subject, "we must not forget, dear," turning to Uncle Rossiter, "that our wardrobes will require an addition with this unexpected increase of absence from home, so please bear that in mind and mention it to Susan."
In the course of the morning aunt and I went into the garden to enjoy its shade and sweetness. Charlotte preferred remaining on the balcony with her books and work, and as we were the only visitors at that time in the hotel, she would not be interrupted. Having taken a few turns about the paths, we seated ourselves on a rustic bench delightfully shaded by a narquotte tree, whose branches were clustered over with a delicious little golden fruit, while the surrounding air was redolent of odour from a group of younglemon trees in full bloom, and other rich scents.
And now I turned over in my mind how best to introduce the subject nearest my heart. Happily, Aunt Rossiter opened a way for me at once by saying, anxiously: "What makes my little girl so unusually grave and silent this morning? I trust you are not ill, dear child? or has anything occurred between Charlotte and yourself to vex you?"
Upon that I reminded her of her words to Lotty on the previous evening, saying how much the thought of a separation distressed me, and begging her to tell me where she was going to and for what reason, whether on a visit or for change of air.
She did not immediately speak, and I heard her suppress a sigh as, putting her arm round me, she drew me slowly to her side and fondly pressed her lips to my cheek. This silent action spoke volumes to my already trembling heart. An intolerable sensation of anguish, as on the preceding night, came down upon me like lead,oppressing my very breathing. She had confessed nothing, but yet I now felt, felt for a certainty, that I knew all—knew that my worst apprehensions were correct, that death was the coming separation.
Presently she spoke; her voice was a little unsteady, but low and calm: "My beloved child, remember that not a sparrow falls without the will of our heavenly Father. Whatever happens to his servants, whether of outward weal or woe, is certain to be for the best."
"You never said you were ill," I answered, in choking words. "Oh, aunt, why did you not tell me before?"
"Until quite lately I was quite ignorant of the seriousness of my complaint. Even Dr. Manfred was misled by delusive appearances, and believed that I should recover; but God in his wisdom sees fit to ordain it otherwise, and his will be done!" Again she lovingly kissed my cheek, and I unconsciously drew myself away and sat up. A feeling as though I had been stunnedhalf bewildered me. By degrees this passed off, and then, oh how changed everything seemed to me! The brightness of the sun and the flowers, the scented air, the glad voice of birds and brook, were all now but as a hollow mockery of happiness, and I marvelled how they could look and sound so joyous while I felt so unutterably miserable.
At this instant Blurdon came by with his spade on his broad shoulder, and gave me a quick, defiant glance. Something in my face—the impress, I suppose, of the dreary feeling of woe which possessed my whole being—caused him to look again and almost stop.
"You must find this very hot weather for working," aunt said in her kind, winning voice.
"What's the matter with her?" he returned for answer, stopping and indicating myself with a jerk of his thumb.
Aunt hesitated for an instant, and then said: "In common with all human beings,my little girl finds it very difficult and painful sometimes to submit her will to that of her heavenly Father."
"Why, what's she been a-doing of? What harm can the likes of such a soft little creature as that do?" he growled, eyeing me with a perplexed and perplexing stare, for was it possible that this wild, savage, strange man felt sorry for me? And yet I thought he looked as if he did.
"Judging from the style of your accusations against her this morning, you did not then consider her so innocent or harmless," rejoined Aunt Rossiter, smiling, and with intent, I knew, to check further questioning on his part. It instantly took the desired effect.
"Ah, that's true enough!" he exclaimed, savagely. "I'd forgot that, I had. No, it's not always, nor maybe never, for the matter of that, the most innocent-looking things are the safest. I knowed a-many flowers up country as soft and pure to see as she be," nodding his shaggy head at me, "and yetthey was as full of poison as they could hold—ay, that they was!" and with another defiant glance, that seemed to dare me to do my worst, he strode on his way.
I longed to ask Aunt Rossiter whether she was very ill, whether the doctor had said she would die soon; but besides that the mere uttering such woeful words made me shrink, I dreaded her answer. I felt if she told me, "Yes, in all human probability she must leave us speedily," I could not bear it.
Once more she came to my assistance. Again putting her arm around my waist and drawing me close to her, she said, in her usual cheerful, heart-comforting voice: "It does not follow, my precious child, that because my disease is mortal it will in consequence be brief. Under the blessing of the Almighty, human skill and care may keep me with my beloved on earth much longer than I think. Trust in the mercy and wisdom of our heavenly Father, therefore, my little daughter; pray for me, pray that he will, if he sees good—only on thatcondition—permit me to remain amongst you yet a while."
I could only kiss her fondly; I could not speak. "Oh," thought I, "if prayers and entreaties to heaven, if love and care and skill can obtain it, will we not try!"
If only a few days ago sweet, gentle aunty had uttered such uncertain words, how sad and comfortless would they have sounded to my then all-confident soul! but now they came as a bright flash of hope piercing the gloom which enveloped my heart, like an indefinite reprieve to one condemned to execution. One of the wisest, most merciful arrangements of Nature is that gradual advance toward the completion of her works, and not the least so among them is the ready buoyancy of youth—that happy tendency, the result of the ignorance of inexperience, to turn away from the shadowed to the sunny side of life's path. Were it otherwise, were distress and grief to cling to us in the springtime of our existence as in its autumn, alas! how aged should we prematurely become!How soon would the winter of life settle down upon our heads and heart—ay, before the sunshine has even come.
From that day forward, my first, my ever-anxious prayer was for our beloved protectress, my constant thought and care to promote her comfort and guard her from every breath of harm. And as time went on, bringing with it a perceptible change for the better in her general health, so my spirit lightened of its load of solicitude. Albeit I was conscious that the sorrow of that day had cast a shadow between my heart and its before unreflecting joyousness which neither event nor time could remove, yet it was a merciful lesson, teaching my inexperienced soul the uncertainty of all human happiness, teaching me that in the midst of life—ay, the brightest, the most seemingly blessed and prosperous life—we are in death. Ah, boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth!
Upon uncle's return, he brought us the unwelcome intelligence that Susan had been suddenly sent for by her aged mother, who was ill, and that consequently she could not come to us at present, but hoped to do so soon. I will here add that she was prevented from acting upon that wish until too late to be long of use to us at Rathfelder's Hotel. "And meanwhile," continued Uncle Rossiter, with a meaning smile, "Lotty must take care of herself, and Mechie will take care of us all."
"How will you like that arrangement, Lotty?" asked aunt, giving one of her gentle, anxious looks at Charlotte.
"Judging from past experience, and especially that of last night, I would rather takecare of myself than trust to sister Mechie to do it for me, auntie," replied Charlotte, laughing.
I did not know to what experience she alluded, whether the troubles of our walk, which she still persistently laid at my door, or my keeping her awake when we went to bed.
"Why, what mischief has my little girl been at?" uncle said gayly.
Charlotte, seeing that her love of repartee was bringing her, as it too often did, into trouble, extricated herself by exclaiming, "Oh, by-the-bye, uncle, what about our clothes? Could you manage it with Susan from home?"
"Oh yes," he said; one of the other servants had packed a box full for us, and we should, he hoped, do very well.
Charlotte and I then went to our room to dress for dinner.
"As I walked by myselfI talked to myself,And myself said to me,"
"As I walked by myselfI talked to myself,And myself said to me,"
"As I walked by myselfI talked to myself,And myself said to me,"
"As I walked by myself
I talked to myself,
And myself said to me,"
sang my sister, while combing her hair; but I will not conclude the verse, for to those who know it already it is unnecessary to repeat it, and those who do not lose nothing by their ignorance. To me the sentiment it contains is so odious in its selfishness that although I feel certain Charlotte had no unamiable motive in thus singing the really silly words, yet her tone and manner grated harshly with a heart still aching under its present load of afflictive knowledge. I was the more vexed, too, because only a short time back I had told her of my conversation with aunt in the garden and the painful confession it had elicited; and though certainly surprised at the moment by her calm reception of an announcement which had so greatly tried and distressed me, I inwardly laid it to her superior firmness and self-control enabling her to take a more rational view of the case. Her calmness often made me feel myself to be morbidly sensitive, foolishly tender-hearted to a degree which was sometimes quite sinful. There were occasionshowever—and this was one—in which I pined to see a little less (I will honestly confess it) of the firm, upstanding spirit and more of weeping sympathy. I cannot but say that Charlotte heard my sad news with surprised feeling and evident regret; the colour deepened in her cheek and her eyes filled with tears; but it hurt me keenly to see how quickly she recovered from the stroke, making up her mind that, as she expressed it, "what must be, must be, and all the grieving in the world could not prevent it."
"If all the care in the world can, it shall," I exclaimed, passionately, yielding for the first time to an irrepressible burst of agony which drew upon me a lecture and a scolding, though not unkindly, from Charlotte.
"Such violent, uncontrolled sorrow, Mechie, proves a want of proper submission to the will of God," she went on. "I really wonder at you! Does not the Bible say, 'Have we received good at the hands of God, and shall we not receive evil?' or words to that purport at least. We have had nothingbut good, as you know, all our lives through; and now the very first affliction which is sent upon us excites in you a most unholy feeling of opposition and expressions of murmuring and discontent."
And thus Charlotte continued until the subject, or rather her eloquence, was exhausted, wholly forgetting how often some trifling inconvenience or a few hours' illness had led her to bewail and lament over herself as one of the most ill-used and unfortunate beings in the world, and how any consolation or admonition on my part had been met by arguments as skilful in support of her discontented feelings as those she now used in condemning mine.
These thoughts and many others bearing upon the strange inconsistencies of her character, which I never could quite understand, flashed through my mind while Charlotte was carelessly singing the foregoing rhyme. That she could sing at all and seem so sorrow free only two short hours after hearing from me of our threatened bereavementastonished and pained me beyond expression. And now to be proclaiming, even in joke, that "no one cared for her, and therefore she had better take of herself," added so strong a feeling of anger to my other sensations that I cried out in a vehement tone: "Don't say that, Lotty! I can't bear to hear you. They are unchristian, unholy, heartless words! And how do such sentiments agree with what you said a short time ago—and very truly—that our whole life has been a continuation of blessings? Oh, Lotty, Lotty, how I do wish you would try, with the help of the Almighty, to cure yourself of that inconsistency which makes you appear what I know you are not—heartless and selfish!"
Charlotte had affected to be startled as first I spoke, and stared round at me with wide-open eyes of assumed amazement.
"Why, Mechie, how you frightened me! Really, these violent outbursts of indignation quite take away my breath. I must say I am very glad, considering poor auntie'sdelicate state of health, that you always reserve your heroics for my especial edification. Such sudden surprises would be highly injurious to her."
"My heroics! Oh, Charlotte, when you see me really distressed is it kind to speak in that sneering way?" I said, warmly, and bitter tears filled my eyes.
"Dear me, Mechie! do not be so silly; you know I do not mean to be ill-natured."
"I know you do not mean to be unkind in any way, dear Lotty, and it vexes me the more to hear you repeat as if you were in earnest such selfish words as you sang just now."
"Oh, now you are giving me credit for too much or too little, whichever it is," answered Charlotte in a more serious tone than she had yet spoken and again resuming her hair dressing. "I am not at all sure that I did not quite sympathize with the feeling of the author—indeed, that I do not do so now; at any rate, a sensation closely akin to the sentiment so beautifully expressed in thatpoetic verse filled my heart and thereupon overflowed my lips," she said, laughing a little.
"Oh, Lotty!"
"Now you just look here, Mechie, and say honestly whether I am not perfectly excusable." In her unreflecting vehemence Charlotte evidently quite overlooked the fact of there being any one else in the same boat with herself. "Look here. I am brought away, without any will of mine being consulted, from a home full of comforts and luxuries—which ours certainly is; from attendance abundant and varied according to every requirement; from agreeable society, suited to my tastes—Hester Martin, Jane Burgess, Lucy Morgan, and the rest; from other pleasures and advantages which I need not enumerate,—to a place destitute of every attraction under the sun—a wild, dreary, frightful country, a great and desolate hotel without a soul in it but ourselves; no companions, no servants even, except the St. Helena girl and her sister who cook anddo the rooms and are as ugly and stupid and uncivilized as everything else here. I declare, I would as soon ask one of them to dress me or get out my clothes as I would one of those mountain monkeys of which uncle spoke. Then, to bring matters to their worst, Susan, knowing well the delectabilities of this place and what was in store for her, wisely provides against the evil and strikes work in time to save herself—"
"Her mother is ill, Lotty!"
"Yes, of course she is, and always will be when occasion requires. And so, now, here I am, as I say, without any choice of my own, as uncomfortable as I can possibly be, every act of others from first to last proving that they care nothing for me; consequently and of necessity I must, as the objectionable rhyme has it, 'look after myself.' In what way I am to do it, however, in this wilderness, passes all my powers of devising. But now, Miss Mechie, you must see that thinking these thoughts is the natural result of such disagreeable circumstances, and naturally ledto my singing that verse which so instantly set your inflammable temper in a blaze, and that so far from being to blame in anything I am exceedingly to be pitied, in everything."
"But, Charlotte, is it possible that you have so forgotten or are indifferent to what I told you of poor aunt? Do you not remember that it is on her account that we are staying here?—that the change is doing her good? Oh, Lotty, surely you would feel any sacrifice you could make compensated for by even the slightest improvement in dear auntie's state of health?"
"Oh, of course I should! I wonder you consider it necessary to ask such a question, Mechie!" exclaimed Charlotte in a tone of warm indignation that sent a comforting glow into my chilled heart. "But that is, in my opinion, the silliest part of the business. Just think, seriously, Mechie, and you must see as plainly as I do that she can get no good by staying in a place like this. Remember the distance we are from Dr.Manfred. Uncle must of course drive in every day to the bank, and fancy the distressing position you and I would be in if during his absence aunt were to fall dangerously ill, requiring instant medical advice, perhaps, and the doctor seven miles away!"
Oh, if Charlotte had known what a thrill of pain her words would awaken in my heart as they brought before my imagination with sudden vividness the picture of her whom I loved better than all the world beside lying white and still, patient and suffering, perhaps dying, on her pillow—had Charlotte known it, she would not have spoken so carelessly.
"Lotty, you do not think her so ill as that, do you?" I faltered.
"So ill as what, you silly thing?" she answered, turning and looking at me. "Why, how pale you are, Mechie! How can you be so absurd as to catch up my words and misinterpret them in that hasty way? I don't know anything about illness; how should I? I was always aware, of course, that aunt wasmore or less delicate, but had no idea that she laboured under any really serious disease until you told me; and all I meant to say was that, such being the case, it is unwise for her to have placed herself in the position she has done, and it might prove very distressing to us."
"Oh, I am so glad you meant nothing more, Lotty!" I answered, feeling immensely relieved by this explanation. "You often see the truth much quicker than I do, and the thought agonized me that perhaps you perceived her to be worse than I suspected or than she is herself aware of. But, Lotty," I continued, changing the too painful subject, "to return to what you were before complaining of—the want of a lady's maid—can't I help you? I will gladly dress you if you like, and get out your clothes if you will just tell me always what you require."
"Well, unquestionably such an arrangement would render my disagreeable position much more bearable to me until Susan comes," replied Charlotte, condescendingly;"so thank you, Mechie; it is well thought of on your part, and I very gladly accept your offer; for, between ourselves, if there is one thing I dislike more than another it is trouble."
And yet, I thought, I have often seen Charlotte bestow an amount of time and trouble on trifling matters in which pleasure was concerned sufficient utterly to exhaust me, and she did not seem to feel it a bit.
After dinner, uncle, Charlotte and I set off to clear up the mystery of the strange animal we had seen under the bushes. It was daylight now and the way easily traced and soon I distinguished the identical bush beneath which it was sheltering itself. And yes, there it was still, sure enough, and only a poor dog, after all—a huge creature, now stretched out dead and stark, a gunshot wound in its side declaring the cause of its death. It was a splendid, great animal, and in good condition; who, therefore, could have killed it, and why? So we questioned of each other. Uncle and Charlotte preferred continuing their walk over the flats, but as I wished to return to aunt on the balcony, they saw me in safety to the little bridge, and then left me.
Not liking to encounter Blurdon, I ran rapidly through the garden, meeting our landlord just coming in at the gate. Instantly I gave him an account of the dead dog, begging to know how he thought it had happened.
"Oh, it was that rascally Blurdon's doing," he answered, "The idle fellow has been amusing himself of late shooting every stray dog that was unlucky enough to come sufficiently near to the house to be within his reach. He knew perfectly well I didn't wish them destroyed. But he possessed a gun of his own and went out at night, by which means he could do what he chose: so you see one of the results. However, I have made an end of his impudence here sooner than he either wished or expected, for this afternoon I bundled him off, bag and baggage, and I hope never to set eyes on his face again."
"Then he is really gone, you think?" I said, joyfully.
"Am quite sure of it," said Mr. Rathfelder. "This is no place for him, for besides havingnothing to do here, the people hereabouts are too quiet and respectable to suit him and his bad ways. Oh no; he's gone, and no mistake."
"Well, I must say I am glad," rejoined I, "for, to confess the truth, I am quite afraid of him."
Mr. Rathfelder laughed, saying: "His looks are certainly against him, but, though a worthless sort of fellow, he might not be as really bad, after all, as his face proclaims him to be."
"God, who reads the heart, alone knows," I murmured to myself while pursuing my way to the hotel, feeling, nevertheless, exceedingly comforted by our landlord's assurance of his departure.
So time passed on—tranquil, pleasant days—days whose brightness increased to us all as each one told to advantage on the health of dear Aunt Rossiter. Charlotte, too, was quite contented, for not only was the period fast approaching for our return home, but so satisfactorily had I supplied Susan's place (shewas still prevented coming to us) that Lotty declared of the two she was inclined to think my attendance preferable, for she could have her own way just as she liked with me, which was not often possible and never easy with that self-willed, unaccommodating Susan.
My lady's-maid duties, however, generally obliged me to curtail my morning walk a good deal in order to be back in time to secure my dear, lazy Lotty's presence at the prayers (which uncle always read while the tea was drawing); but so long as that desirable end was effected, I did not regret my shortened walk. I am quite sure our heavenly Father far oftener than mortals in their blind ingratitude, even among the best of us, take account, directs that such trifling acts of self-sacrifice shall work good to the humble Christian. Little did I anticipate when each morning, checking my eager desire to go farther and seek for other and more beautiful flowers, I turned and hurried back, that this very proceeding would at last provea merciful means of salvation from I know not what of evil, yet so it was.
One morning—it was the last, according to present arrangement, to be spent at Rathfelder's, previous to the day of our return home—pursuing my way as usual at an early hour across the flowery country, I stopped to look at my watch—a habit I practiced now almost every quarter of an hour at least, fearing to outstay my time. As I did so I partly turned round to see how far I had come, and at that instant caught sight of a dark form slinking behind some bushes in the distance. Imperfect as the view was, it nevertheless showed me the figure of a man. What was he doing there? and what was his motive in thus concealing himself, if concealing himself at all? "But oh no," thought I; "it can only be a poor negro searching on his knees for land-tortoises or negro-figs," as a certain little prickly, disagreeable kind of wild fruit is there called; "it can't be anything more dangerous than that." Whereupon, having ascertained I had a good bit oftime yet to spare, on I went, and, absorbed in enjoyment of all around me, soon forgot the mysterious figure.
I had wandered on considerably farther, and was once more halting to consult my watch, when again—yes, there it was!—the same dark form, still skulking behind the bushes, and by this time so much nearer that no great distance lay between us. What did it mean? Was it possible he meditated harming me? And robbery or violence of any kind was a thing almost unheard of around Cape Town. I could not believe he was intending evil against me. "He must be wanting to beg," I said to myself; "nothing more, oh, surely nothing more!" But my heart throbbed tumultuously, nevertheless, and I trembled exceedingly while, pretending to arrange the bouquet I held in my hand, I keenly watched him. An open space separated the thicket behind which he was unquestionably trying to hide himself and another in advance; and across this he must pass should he continue the course he wasapparently pursuing—a course which would shortly bring him directly in front of me and upon the path I was following, for it made a turn at that point right before his way. I had not long to wait. Believing himself again secure from notice, the man advanced stealthily a little forward, projected his head and gazed at me. Words cannot describe the feeling of terror which possessed my whole being when at that instant I recognised the repellant face of Joe Blurdon! I did not move; I affected to be completely engaged with my nosegay and to see nothing else. But, alas! where was I to go? Forward or backward, I was now equally in his power, and that his intentions were undoubtedly bad was clear, or why these underhand proceedings? Why, too, was he here at all? Did he meditate robbery? What was I to do? And I thought of my watch, that I had taken out while he was looking, but I dreaded much more even the touch of his hand. I was conscious of a strange feeling stealing over me as I stood there amidst thebeautiful works of the Creator—the bright sunshine, the balmy air, the clear sky above and flower-carpeted earth beneath—spellbound by that dark face and evil eye fixed upon me in the distance.
But now Blurdon stole rapidly across the bare space, and for a brief while was again hid from my view. With his disappearance subsided the lethargy of terror which was paralyzing me, and I strove to raise my heart in prayer to heaven. The very effort brought new life into my soul—brought the remembrance that I was not alone, that a merciful, loving Friend was near whose arm was as powerful to protect in this wilderness as in the greatest crowd. "Oh save me, my God! Direct me what to do!" were my only words. And he did direct me.
To run for my life seemed the only chance left me. "But not yet," I murmured as, making believe to gather flowers and at the same time to be continuing my walk, my eyes watched the on-going figure, and noted the vigilant guard he also kept upon my movements.Before him, and close beside the grassy pathway I was coming along, skirted a thicket of some length and breadth and of considerable denseness of foliage, and to this point he was evidently hastening. Arrived there, I perceived him stop and look earnestly in my direction. How wildly my heart beat! but with seeming boldness I advanced a step or two in a careless manner, examining the flowers the while. The next minute he was making his way round to the side of the bushes near the path, and was finally quite concealed from my sight, as I was also from his.
To catch me unawares was clearly his plan; he feared that any cry of alarm on my part might bring assistance he knew not; and it was but acting in accordance with his wild-animal instincts to adopt this crafty method of effecting his purpose rather than a straightforward, open one. As soon as I recovered my recollection of the omnipresence of God, which my sudden fright had momentarily scared away from my mind, I halfunconsciously so gave myself up to his care that I waited to be impelled, as it were, by some inward feelings of guidance what to do, and this trust it was which saved me. Had I made the least attempt to escape too soon, had I betrayed any consciousness of the dangerous vicinity of this man, I should have been lost, but now was the moment, if ever; and yielding to an irresistible impulse, I turned and fled back the way I had come.
Never before in my life had I run so fast; on, on, without once looking behind me, and scarce feeling the soft turf beneath my feet—on, till reaching the gate, I threw myself over; and then, as Charlotte and I had before done, I stood grasping a bar, panting heavily and straining my eyes over the Flats. I was not pursued; nothing met my sight but the wild country; and I poured out a flood of thanksgiving to the great and good God who had so wonderfully sustained, guided and saved me in this my hour of great trial and danger.
Again I scanned the widespreading view, and now I distinguished the herculean formof Blurdon moving rapidly here and there. Examining more earnestly (I was possessed of a naturally very long sight), I could see him looking round the shrubs and bushes where I had so recently been standing, evidently unable to comprehend my sudden disappearance, so swift had been my flight.
Becoming fearful that he might seek me in this direction, I hastened down the field as well as my filtering steps would take me, for I was feeling quite weak now. When in the garden I stopped once more to rest a few seconds on one of the benches, and then returned to the hotel. On the balcony I met uncle, and in as few words as possible narrated to him my adventure and escape. He listened with breathless anxiety, his face paling as I proceeded, and, scarcely waiting to hear the end, hurried away, uttering an ejaculation of thanksgiving to God for my safety. In a few minutes I saw him hastening across the court toward the Flats in company with Mr. Rathfelder.
Fearing the effect which my tale mighthave on aunt in her delicate state, I decided to leave it to uncle whether or not to tell her, and for that reason was silent on the subject to Charlotte also, lest she might heedlessly speak of it.
We were sitting at breakfast when he returned. To my surprise he came in looking quite cheerful and satisfied, instead of anxious and distressed, as was his expression at parting with me. Smiling as he sat down to the table, he said: "You will be glad to hear, my little Mechie, that Blurdon meant no mischief. We found him leaning over the gate at the end of the field and looking about him apparently in a quiet, peaceful, meditative mood. In answer to our questions he said he had come to this part again to have another talk with the good little lady who had spoken so kindly to him the other morning, and that he thought he saw you picking flowers in the distance, and followed to see if it was really you. He seems to have the idea that you can help him with a little good advice before he leaves these parts."
I saw at once that uncle thought I had been frightened without cause, and put my alarm down to my having been alone, but I did not say more then lest I should disturb my aunt and Charlotte, who were already looking up and waiting to hear what had occurred; but I was none the less well assured in my own mind that robbery was intended and devoutly thankful to have been preserved.
Charlotte was to accompany uncle to Cape Town this morning, some friends having begged him to bring her in to spend the day with them. She was charmed at being allowed to accede to the proposal, and quite agreed this time in the wisdom of securing the cool hours of the day for driving. I found her sitting in our open carriage, ready and waiting for uncle, sooner than necessary.
"How much I wish you were coming too, Mechie, instead of staying by yourself in this stupid place!" she said to me, turning up her handsome face, bright with smiles, as leaning over the balcony rails I awaited her departure.
"Don't you remember when we were coming here, Lotty, I told you I should beso greatly vexed to go without you, and you said, 'All the vexation will be on your side, then, for I should not care a bit'? Well, that's my answer to you now," I replied, laughing.
"Ah, well, there's no accounting for tastes," rejoined Charlotte in a tone of commiserating superiority; "you always were, and I suppose always will be, a queer, incomprehensible little thing."
"Come, Lotty," I said, feeling rather piqued by the implied contempt of her words, "confess honestly, which is most desirable, to find sources of enjoyment in every place, or be dependent always upon external excitements?"
But Lotty was in no mood for grave remonstrances, and while she was still laughing our uncle entered and the carriage drove up. He nodded a farewell to me, and Lotty looking back cried out gayly: "Good-bye, Mechie."
Aunt and I passed a delightful day together—a day full of sweet, tranquilenjoyment. For many hours, during the hottest time, we remained under the refreshing shade of the fruit trees, reading, working or talking, as the mood inclined us. Occasionally I wandered about, attracted by the musical note of some bird I wanted to see or the gay tints of some insect I wished to capture for a brief while that aunty and I might examine it closely. But of all happy, joyous little creatures whom it charmed me to watch, the chameleons were the most amusing as they glanced about amidst the branches of the trees, in their hunt for insects, their varying colours contrasting brightly and beautifully with the rich hues of the fruit and flowers.
In the evening a disappointment befell us. We were hopefully expecting the return of our loved ones, when instead there came a letter from uncle, saying that particular business would detain him in town until the following evening. As for Lotty, he continued, her friends, from whose house he was then writing, were only too delightedto have her with them for as long as she could be spared, and he had therefore agreed to her remaining their guest for the present, "an arrangement very agreeable to Lotty herself," uncle added. He then went on to say he had met Dr. Manfred, who strongly advised that as his patient, Mrs. Rossiter, was deriving so much benefit from the air of the Flats, she should stay out the fortnight, returning again to Rathfelder's in another month, and so on repeatedly while she found she gained any advantage to her health. "I am glad to say," uncle concluded, "that Susan's mother is so much better that she hopes to be able to come back with Charlotte and myself to-morrow evening, which will make your longer visit in that 'wilderness,' as Lotty calls it, more agreeable, I hope, to all parties."
"Dear, good old Susan!" exclaimed I; "excepting that the attendance of such a servant and friend must always be an acquisition, and the sight of her kind face in the highest degree cheering to me because of hergenuine piety and sound sense, I should not otherwise wish any addition to our present party or any alteration in our ways. That it does you good to be here, my own dear aunt," jumping up and kissing her fondly, "is in my opinion sufficient to make it delightful were it far less charming than it really is or our arrangements far less convenient."
I was very anxious that my aunt would allow me to share her bed-room that night, feeling uneasy at the thought of her being so entirely alone in the present delicate state of her health. But oh no, she would not on any account agree to such a proposal, she said; I had quite enough to do during the day without the risk of my nights being also unnecessarily disturbed. She was a very uncertain sleeper, she added, and often extremely restless, without, however, feeling ill or requiring anything, and my rest would perhaps be much broken and to no purpose. There was but one room between our bed-rooms, and should she be seriously in want ofassistance, nothing could be easier than to open her door and make me hear instantly.
I will here explain that Rathfelder's Hotel was a portion of building entirely separated from the part inhabited by our host and his family, which lay at the back—a long line of rooms on the ground floor. The hotel, a substantial house of two stories high, consisted of suites of rooms, sleeping and sitting-rooms alternately on the upper floor, and spacious reception-rooms with one bed-room, filling up the whole of the ground floor. The latter were for the accommodation of casual visitors, picnic parties or travellers to Port Elizabeth, but all the first were reserved exclusively for boarders who stayed weeks or months at a time. There was no staircase in the building, access to the upper rooms being only obtained by means of flights of steps ascending at different points to the broad balcony which I have before mentioned. No servants slept in the visitors' portion of the hotel, and oddly enough, though sometimes full of company at otherseasons, no one but ourselves was lodging there just at the present time; consequently, aunt and I had the whole hotel at our disposal. This independent state of affairs did not in the least disconcert us; on the contrary, the novelty of our situation afforded us amusement; and in the evening we wandered through the large rooms, which all opened into each other by single doors, without any feeling of apprehension.
The next day we were again disappointed. Uncle and Charlotte did not come, and a second letter of much the same import as the first once more put off their return until the day after.
In the evening, toward night, aunty and I once more perambulated the great suite of rooms, and though feeling no fear of danger, we as a matter of course shut and fastened the venetians and locked the different doors, which, conducting from one room to another, finally opened into a narrow passage running through the upper house and beginning and terminating with the balcony. This securingof windows and doors the servants considered superfluous, and therefore never performed; as it was, they had now completed their last services in our sitting and bed-rooms, paid their last visit to see if we wanted anything and taken their departure, evidently without a thought being given to the other parts of the house above or below.
It was still sufficiently light to admit of our seeing with tolerable clearness without candles, and on passing on our way to the extreme end with intent to begin shutting up the first room in that direction and all the rest backward in succession, we noticed a fowl roosting on the back of a chair beside one of the beds. A large quantity of poultry was always wandering about, outside the hotel, and frequently they walked into the rooms and laid their sweet white or brown eggs in some sheltered corner. It had become quite a matter of amusement to Charlotte and me to search for the eggs every evening.
"We must turn Mrs. Hen out of thewindow when we return," observed aunty; "it won't do to leave her there all night." And laughing together at the domestic character displayed by the bonny-looking feathered lady, we continued our way. Having fastened the doors and windows of the end room, we were on the point of quitting it, when at that instant I was startled by a sudden shriek from the fowl as she flew down from her perch in the distant chamber. With some feeling of terror I looked inquiringly at Aunt Rossiter, but her perfectly composed smile reassured me as she said:
"She evidently heard our remarks, Mechie, upon her ill-regulated disposition, and is either offended or ashamed."
"Oh, she is in the highest state of indignation," rejoined I; "just hear how she is attacking us both!"
And certainly Mrs. Hen seemed to be fully verifying my words, for on she came to the room we were in, cackling at the very top of her shrill voice in a most unmistakably incensed manner.
"What's the matter, old lady?" exclaimed I, laughing, as she angrily strutted toward us holding her head very high and looking about her right and left, and over her shoulder behind, with a scared and frightened glance. "Do you think we are shutting up the house with intent to kill and roast and eat you?" I added, opening the window to let her out on the balcony, to find her way home. Instead of immediately leaving us, however, she stood in the room cackling louder than ever, saying something eagerly and earnestly which I longed to understand, feeling certain she was passing some very severe strictures on our want of consideration in having thus disturbed and terrified her, which remarks, I gayly said, must be of an extremely original and amusing nature.
When she had said all she could to enlighten us—and oh that we had been able to understand her!—she walked in the same dignified, albeit disturbed manner out of the window, her whole expression declaring, as I afterward pictured to my imagination, thatshe could do no more, and must now leave us and our obstinacy to our fate. "All she has received in return for her noisy garrulity is to be well laughed at, especially by myself, so no wonder she is offended," I said, laughing again as I reclosed and fastened the venetians and windows.