Читать книгу The Maidens of Walsingham - Анна Морион - Страница 12

That same evening Mr. Pilough, as promised, wrote to Lord Draymore about the parson's tragedy, but because the Count was in another town, the envelope with the letter was not opened. In spite of this circumstance, however, the parson's death was nevertheless known: Mr. Pilough, who had become firm friends with Mr. Morris within two months, wrote to him as well. The letter reached London in a short time, in a day and a half from the time the architect hurriedly sent it from Rivershold. Having received and read the letter at noon, Dr Morris was filled with genuine sadness and horror, and hastened to Viscount Wilworth's house. On reaching the Viscount's mansion, Mr. Morris was without delay admitted to the master of the house himself.

– Mr. Morris! You are just in time for lunch," said the Viscount, delighted at his visit.

– Thank you, sir, but I am not hungry. I am afraid I bring you very sad news! – Mr. Morris replied with a slight bow.

– Please, sit down. – Viscount Wilworth pointed to an empty chair by a table laden with porcelain plates of dainty treats: the Viscount liked to have his lunches outdoors, on one of the balconies of his mansion. – What is this sad news?

– Alas, sir, the news is not merely sad, it is terrible: I received a letter from Mr. Pilough today. Perhaps you remember him? The Count of Draymore left it in the village during the restoration.

– Yes, I remember him. An architect from London.

– Well, sir, he informed me of the tragic death of Pastor Glowford the other day.

This news struck the Viscount to the very heart: it even trembled with horror, and the whole being of the young nobleman was in a great agitation.

– It is terrible news! There are no words to express how much I am struck by it! – exclaimed the Viscount, immediately placing the cup of tea he held in his hand on the table. – But how is it possible? How could this misfortune have happened?

– Pastor Glowford had been volunteering to help in the work of restoring the church as a builder, and one of the stone slabs had been too massive for the old building. The stone beneath it had crumbled, and the slab had fallen directly on the head of the parson who was passing under it. It was an instantaneous, painless death; I don't think the poor fellow had time to realise it," said Mr. Morris, again experiencing the sadness he had felt when he had read Mr. Pilough's letter.

– What a pity! What a tragedy! – The Viscount exclaimed quietly: he was truly saddened by the death of Pastor Glowford, but he was also disturbed by the fact that his daughters were orphans. – What about his daughters?

– When tragedy struck, one of the young men ran to the field where the peasants were working and told them of the parson's death. Everyone rushed to the church. The older Glowford girls were upset, they were stunned, they wept, and the sight was so heart-rending that Mr. Pilough could not bear the heat of emotion and retreated to the manor.

– Poor girls, they were so fond of their father! – sighed the Viscount. – But what is happening at Walsingham now?

– Unfortunately, sir, I have no such information. Mr. Pilough described only the parson's death, and, having hardly finished his letter, sent it to me without delay. 'But I hope the poor girls will get over this grief,' replied Mr. Morris.

There was silence; both were lost in their own thoughts.

The Viscount's high spirits were spoilt, and he was consumed with thoughts of how the parson's death had affected, and would affect, the lives of his daughters.

– What of Miss Cassandra? What are her feelings? – he asked quietly.

– I don't know, sir, but I will write to Mr. Pilough today. It is a day and a half since that unfortunate moment, and I suppose a lot has happened at Walsingham in the meantime, but I hope my friend will make it clear to us," said the doctor.

It seemed strange that the death of a lowly parson from some backwoods town should have so deeply grieved a man who lived in London and was a member of England's high society. But the Viscount was indeed distressed and affected by the event. What grieved him most, however, was that dear Cassie must be extremely upset by her father's death, and he feared that the trauma would damage her already sick mind.

– 'The girls must be helped,' said the Viscount firmly. – They are young and unmarried, and it will be hard for them to live on their own. What funds do they have?

– The Glowfords have a small garden to feed on. Sometimes the older sisters spin cloth and sell it, but it's a pittance: there's plenty of it in Walsingham. In the summer the girls work with the other peasants in the fields and in the autumn, they get their share of the harvest.

– What kind of harvest?

– Potatoes, sir.

– Potatoes only? – The Viscount was unpleasantly surprised.

– Alas, sir, it is so, but it will not be enough to feed us. The Glowfords subsist mostly on lean porridge and black bread, but sometimes the peasants share some food with them. The family has no livestock or poultry, so they hardly eat meat. At a wedding I attended in Walsingham, Miss Cassie was chewing something almost non-stop, and my heart burst at the sight of her.

– It's incredible! What a plight! I must help them. I can't bear the fact that there is a kingdom of poverty next to such a splendidly rich manor of Rivershold! But, Mr. Morris, all this has led me to a thought: the parson was absolutely opposed to Miss Cassandra's treatment-" And the Viscount, frowning, fell silent.

– 'That is true, sir, but where are you going with this? – the doctor wondered.

– Perhaps I can persuade Miss Catherine to let me take Cassie to London and treat her here," the noble lord finished his thought in a firm tone.

– For God's sake, sir! How can you think of such a thing now that the girls have lost their father? You can't use this tragic situation for your own good! It's inhuman! Just think of what these bright souls are going through! – Mr. Morris was indignant and not afraid to express his displeasure at the Viscount's intentions.

– You are quite right, Mr. Morris, it is low and cynical of me," he agreed, after carefully considering his conduct. – The girls should be given time to heal and rest.

– Exactly, sir, and in spite of your noble intentions, I am glad to be able to reason with you," said the doctor. These words did not hurt the Viscount's pride, for he had a high regard for the person of Mr. Morris, with whom the lord's late father had been a friend. – 'As far as I know, Miss Cassie was very much attached to her father. How she must be suffering, poor girl!

– But you wanted to adopt her. And, on account of the parson's death, you can now put it into effect, at the right time, of course," the Viscount reminded him. – Don't mistake my reasoning for cynicism, doctor. I deeply regret Pastor Glowford's death, but I am also thinking of poor Miss Cassandra's fate.

– Ah, yes, of course, but I would not wish to begin the adoption process now that the lovely girl is in great sadness. Especially, Miss Catherine's consent would be required, and I don't think she would so readily allow me to take Cassie away from her and tear her away from her family. I rightly suppose it would take long persuasion and good reasoning to get Miss Catherine to agree to this step, for she has been bringing up Cassie since she was born, and she cannot bear the thought of her beloved sister not being with her. Cassie and Catherine are very attached to each other. Miss Catherine's love for her sister is so deep that she even rejects marriage in order not to be separated from her sister.

– We shall certainly help them… When the right time comes, of course. But I wish to be of some assistance to them immediately.

– Mr. Pilough has written that Walsingham is in urgent need of a new parson, and his arrival must be as soon as possible, for the late Glowford is to be buried according to the laws of Anglicanism. Besides, the Walsingham people are in desperate need of a parson: they are lost without a pastor and church meetings," said the doctor, remembering his friend's message. – Mr. Pilough has also informed Lord Draymore of this, but I am aware that he is not in London at the moment and cannot do his duty regarding the problem.

– You are correctly informed, Mr. Morris: Colin is in Bristol. So, we should approach the head of the church and send a new pastor to Walsingham. But something tells me that a young seminarian, fresh out of the seminary, will be sent to the village. And it is unlikely that the young man in question will be happy to be sent into the wilderness, far from the capital," said the Viscount rightly. – But I will write to the church today. It is long enough since the parson's death, and he must be buried no later than tomorrow evening. I beg your pardon, doctor, I will not delay this important matter. – He rose from the table, his companion did likewise, they shook hands and parted.

Viscount Wilworth kept his word: going up to his study, he wrote the necessary letter and sent it off with a messenger. The answer to the petition came the same evening: the clergy had appointed a new parson, Mr. Litley, to Walsingham, assuring the Viscount that the clergyman would do a good job, and that he was on his way to the village. The Viscount wished to meet in person the person who would replace the late Parson Glowford, but was unable to do so, but he was not dismayed, for he was soon to come to Rivershold and Walsingham himself to visit the Glowford girls and offer his condolences. Viscount was still full of hope that the Count of Draymore would sell his estate to him and waited for a letter or telegram from his friend: it was pointless to go to Walsingham now, when the Glowford girls were in black mourning and could not recover from the loss of their beloved father. Viscount Wilworth himself sent a note to Lord Draymore's mansion, asking for the Earl's address in Bristol, but the messenger returned with the news that the Count had left no address for correspondence, and that the Lord would not return until August.

Not wasting any time, the day after Mr. Morris's visit the Viscount found a well-known Dutch psychiatrist, Mr. Henrik Liabrist, consulted him about Miss Cassandra's illness and inquired as to the possibility of her full or partial recovery. The story of a grown-up girl with the mind and consciousness of a child interested the psychiatrist, and he asked the Viscount to bring her to see him.

– I am sorry, but Miss Glowford is not in London at present, and will not be here for about a month," replied the Viscount.

– 'That's a pity,' he said briefly. – I think I can help the girl.

– Do you think you can overcome her illness? – The Viscount asked: the psychiatrist's words gave him hope.

– Yes, I do. You say her development has been neglected? But can she even read?

– Her father thought it would be a great sin to treat her. He was a very religious man.

– 'That's a dark thing,' Mr. Liabrist grinned at that.

– 'But I suppose she was taught to read: her father was a well-educated and competent man.

– How far from London does your Miss Glowford reside?

– Norfolk. There's a lost village called Walsingham.

– Bring the girl to me and I will examine her.

– I am truly grateful to you for agreeing to help, but I cannot get Miss Glowford to London for the rest of the summer. What if we came to see you in a month or two? The girl's father died the other day, and she is deeply distressed and hard to bear.

– You think rightly, sir: after a heavy loss a man necessarily needs time, but how much, there are many opinions on that. Every man needs the comfort of time as much as his nature compels him, and Miss Glowford's brain is a very fragile one, so there is no hurry to take her to me. But long practice shows that mentally retarded people do not understand all the distress and bitterness of loss," Mr. Liabrist explained gravely to his interlocutor.

– I shall not object, for your knowledge in this field is certainly far superior to mine. Miss Glowford requires special care, and her older sister will probably object to the treatment, and it will take a lot of persuasion to get Miss Cassandra to come with me.

The psychiatrist chuckled and adjusted his glasses.

– This is an extremely interesting case," he said with a slight smile.

"What a cynic!" – The Viscount thought grudgingly, displeased that he had called Cassie's illness an "interesting case."

– I shall be deeply grateful and thankful to you if you will help the girl," said the Viscount, still quite coolly. – I feel madly sorry for her.

– Then, when the time is right, bring her to see me. I will do my best," Mr. Liabrist assured him.

The Viscount thanked him warmly and went home. He decided that his new task was to befriend Cassie and become her friend, to bind her to him so that Miss Catherine would not be able to insist that Cassie could not live a day without her home and sisters. The Viscount knew that his behaviour would not be blameless, but he was moved only by a noble desire to keep Cassie out of his worries and to cure her sick mind of years of fog.