Читать книгу The Clergyman's Widow - Барбара Хофланд - Страница 9

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We will now return to Mrs. Gardiner and her daughters, who arrived in due time at the town of S——, and were civilly received by the mistress of the house, who conducted them into a neat small parlour, which had been hired for them by farmer Eade, who shortly after arrived with his store-cart, the contents of which considerably enhanced the consequence of her lodgers in the eye of the hostess. The good farmer took a hasty but most affectionate leave, followed by the heartfelt thanks and good wishes of all the party. Mrs. Gardiner, extremely fatigued, though less by her journey than her feelings, lay down with her infant on the bed, while her affectionate children undertook to dispose of their clothes and provisions in the new apartments: while they are doing this, and getting ready a cup of tea for their mother, we will introduce our young readers to each of them personally, as well as we are able.

Maria, the eldest, was a tall, handsome, fine-looking girl, with dark-brown hair, that hung in clustering curls upon her forehead, and shadowed her bright hazel eyes; the rich glow of health animated her features, and gave strength and agility to her motions: to the most lively sensibility she added a sweetness of temper, patience of disposition, and firmness of mind, not often united with acute feeling; and the quickness of her penetration, the extent of her capacity, and the solidity of her judgment, gave promise of an early but not premature maturity; she appeared likely to be not only as a second mother to the younger branches of her family, but in some measure to supply to their surviving parent the friend she had lost.

Sarah, the second daughter, was a most amiable girl, but of a very different character to that of Maria. Her form was elegant, but delicate even to fragility; and though her health was very good, the exquisite fairness of her skin, and the slight texture of her frame, conveyed the idea of its instability, in a manner which increased the interest her beauty excited; she appeared like an exotic flower, which will shrink beneath the first blast of winter, and wither under the first touch of pain. Her manners were so gentle and meek, her voice so sweet and deprecating, that her good father used to call her his 'lily of the valley,' and often observed, that she was a kind of privileged being in the house, for though she might often err, yet she never offended; and as the angry passions never reached her heart, so the voice of reproof had been a stranger to her ear.

Though the timidity of this lovely child threw a veil over her talents, yet, like her eldest sister she too was blessed with an excellent understanding, to which was added intuitive taste, a fine perception of excellence in whatever was presented to her mind 'of beautiful and good,' and a faculty of pursuing and combining ideas not often found in early life.

Retired and enthusiastic, her acute sensibility and vivid imagination had induced her to suffer more than either of her sisters on the late grievous loss, while with less activity, either from nature or habit, she had fewer resources to fly to; and notwithstanding the many excellent reasons urged by her mother, and her own strong sense of their propriety, she sought to indulge the sorrow which increased her own helplessness and her mother's tender solicitude.

Betsey, the youngest girl, was just turned eleven; in her person she greatly resembled her eldest sister: but the arch glances of her black eyes, and the smile of playful roguery that dimpled round her mouth, attracted more general admiration. There was a spice of waggery in all she did, that made her at once the delight and torment of the house; and but for the excellent education, and the undeviating propriety of all around, she had become that dangerous thing, a female wit; but as far as there is mischief in this character, the innocent mirth of Betsey, and the good-humoured raillery with which she sought to raise a smile on the faces of her own dear circle, will be found exempt. She was an industrious little girl, as well as a clever one, and gave promise of possessing those kind of powers her forlorn situation so peculiarly called for. Being very near the age of George, who was only one year younger, she had found it a great trial to part with him; but when Maria had assured her that her crying would make her poor mother suffer more, Betsey struggled with her feelings, and smiled through her tears.

Such where the daughters that the widowed mother, on her arising, found waiting, with anxious looks for her return. Maria approaching, took her little brother from her mother, while Betsey drew her chair to the tea-table, and begged her to eat the nice toast Maria had just made. Sarah sat still, gazing on her with looks that spoke volumes of kind things to the mother's heart, yet pained while they consoled it.

How various were the plans, no sooner formed than rejected, that now passed through the mind of the agitated parent, as she surveyed these lovely blossoms, whose humble hopes thus blighted on the very entrance of life, left them exposed to all its hardships, at the very time when they would feel them most severely! They were too old to enjoy the happy ignorance of infancy, too young to feel the salutary influence of reason and religion. We can all feel long before we can argue; but it is likewise the happy characteristic of youth to feel sorrow rather as an acute pain than a corrosive disease, and easily to throw off the burthen of grief, at the first dawn of hope, the first promise of relief.

Nearly a fortnight had passed in their new habitation, in which time the extreme anxiety of her mind had made Mrs. Gardiner's cheek look more pale than even the sorrow of the preceding month; and yet she had not been able to form any feasible plan, or adopt any mode of employment that appeared likely to afford a prospect of subsistence for herself and children; but, though distressed, she was not despairing; day by day she looked up to Him who can make 'rough places plain, and crooked paths straight, before those who put their trust in Him.'

One day, as these thoughts were passing in her mind, with her hand before her eyes, she happened to withdraw it hastily, and saw her eldest daughter looking at her with a countenance so full of tender solicitude and anxiety, that she felt the amiable girl was justly entitled to share every thought, as she partook every care of her bosom; and she therefore freely told her all that was passing in her mind, her plans for future life, and the many fears those plans involved.

'My dear mother,' said the good girl, 'you do not mention the necessity you will undoubtedly be under for parting with us, at least with me. I see all your kindness, in trying to save me the pain of this information, and my heart thanks you for it; but I beg you will not distress yourself on my account: I can indeed, mamma—I can do any thing you wish me.'

The fond mother clasped her daughter to her full heart, and for some minutes their tears were mingled together in silent emotion; but as soon as Mrs. Gardiner was able to speak, she desired Maria to tell her what had passed in her own mind respecting her situation.

'Why, mother,' said Maria, endeavouring to compose herself, 'as far as I can learn, there are only three ways in which a woman can gain her own subsistence; the first and best is being a private governess, or teacher in a school; the second is being a milliner; and the last is being a lady's maid. Now I am too young for either the first or last; besides, my education is too unfinished for the one, and yet too refined for the other: the middle place appears, therefore, every way the best. I have hands, and I know how to use them now, thanks to your care! and if I am taught a business, in a very short time I may use them for you and the baby, my dear mother.'

'But, my dear Maria, you are fond of reading; you have even a passion for study; I fear the employment you speak of will never be sufficiently interesting to you. If I had the means of finishing your education—but alas!——

'Do not think of it, dear mother. I assure you I have examined my own heart; I know where my weak place lies,' said the sweet girl, forcing a smile. 'Yes, I remember stealing the Grecian history out of the study to read it in the hayloft, when I ought to have been stitching wristbands; but I was then a thoughtless little girl; I know better now, and you shall see, dear mother (if you dare trust me), you shall see that when it is my duty, I can sew the whole year through, without reading a single page.'

'And when you are grown a great woman,' said little Betsey, pressing in between them, 'will you teach me to make things, and get money for my mother, and send some to brother George?'

'I will do the best I can, my love,' returned Maria; 'but you are too young yet; you must go to school before you can do any thing.'

'To school!' said Mrs. Gardiner; 'alas! that is impossible.'

'No, indeed, mother,' interrupted Maria, eagerly, 'it is not; there is a boarding-school only a mile out of town, where they take little girls who are sharp and active, as a kind of apprentices, for fifty pounds; they would take Betsey for seven years; they would teach her every thing that would qualify her to teach others; but then she must be obliging, industrious, and——'

'Oh!' cried the child, 'I will do all, everything they ask me; you know father used to call me his little bee, I mended his stockings so nicely.'

'But then,' said Maria, gravely, 'you must not laugh at the young ladies, not make game of the maids, nor have any of your old tricks, Betsey.'

To this Betsey, with a deep sigh, replied, she would not do any thing naughty, if she could help it.

'Pray, Maria, how came you by this knowledge of the school?' interrupted the ruminating mother.

'Mrs. Robinson, the mistress of the house, told me,' said Maria; 'and by the same channel I have learned that Mrs. Ideson, the milliner, is in want of an apprentice. I assure you, dear mother, I did not begin the conversation with Mrs. Robinson; but people in towns, I suppose, make themselves free with the business of other people.'

'The poor and dependent,' said the widow, 'are every where made free with, my love; but Mrs. Robinson, I doubt not, meant very well; and her information is of great consequence to us. I will endeavour to call on Mrs. Ideson to-morrow, and, at least, hear her terms; and I will lose very little time in applying for the vacancy at the boarding school.'

'But, mother,' said Sarah, raising her long silken eyelashes, and looking wistly in her mother's face, 'you have said nothing about me.' This appeal was answered only by a shake of the head. She turned to her sister—'Maria, what am I to do?'

'You must muse, and draw, and poetize, and nurse little Henry, my love, and comfort our mother; you can do nothing better than that, my dear Sarah, for then you will do us all good.'

The tear of conscious helplessness was mingled with a smile of gratitude at the conclusion of this speech; and Maria closed the conversation, by throwing her arms round Sarah's neck, and declaring that if it pleased Heaven to prosper her endeavours, she should feel it her greatest delight to place Sarah under such instruction as would expand her talents, and enable her to become as much the benefit as she was now the ornament of her family.