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Mrs. Oliphant. Young Musgrave
Young Musgrave
Table of Contents
PART I
CHAPTER I. THE FAMILY
CHAPTER II. MARY
CHAPTER III. THE NEW-COMERS
PART II
CHAPTER IV. AFTER THE SILENCE OF YEARS
CHAPTER V. WAKING UP
CHAPTER VI. AT THE VICARAGE
PART III
CHAPTER VII. THE CHILDREN AT THE CASTLE
CHAPTER VIII. LADY STANTON
CHAPTER IX. AT ELFDALE
CHAPTER X. THE OTHER SIDE
CHAPTER XI. AN AFTERNOON’S WORK
CHAPTER XII. VISITORS
PART IV
CHAPTER XIII. FAMILY CARES
CHAPTER XIV. AN UNLOOKED-FOR VISITOR
CHAPTER XV. RANDOLPH
CHAPTER XVI. DUCKS AND DRAKES
CHAPTER XVII. THE BAMPFYLDES
CHAPTER XVIII. A NEW FRIEND
CHAPTER XIX. A MIDNIGHT WALK
CHAPTER XX. THE COTTAGE ON THE FELLS
CHAPTER XXI. AN EARLY MEETING
CHAPTER XXII. THE HENS AND THE DUCKLING
CHAPTER XXIII. COUSIN MARY’S OPINION
CHAPTER XXIV. THE SQUIRE AT HOME
CHAPTER XXV. A NEW VISITOR
CHAPTER XXVI. IN SUSPENSE
CHAPTER XXVII. AN APPARITION
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE LOVES OF THE ANGELS
CHAPTER XXIX. NELLO’S JOURNEY
CHAPTER XXX. A CHILD FORLORN
CHAPTER XXXI. A CRISIS AT PENNINGHAME
CHAPTER XXXII. NELLO’S RESCUE
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE BABES IN THE WOOD
CHAPTER XXXIV. THE NEW-COMER
CHAPTER XXXV. ANOTHER HELPER
CHAPTER XXXVI. THE BEGINNING OF THE END
CHAPTER XXXVII. A TRAITOR
CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE MOTHER
CHAPTER XXXIX. THE TRAGEDY ENDS
CHAPTER XXX. CONCLUSION
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Mrs. Oliphant
Published by Good Press, 2022
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Miss Brown obeyed this summons with more genuine alacrity than she had felt for years.
Very different were the feelings of her mistress standing there in the dimness of the old hall, her frame thrilling and her heart aching with the appeal which her brother had made to her, out of a silence which for more than a dozen years had been unbroken as that of the grave. She could scarcely believe yet that she had seen his very handwriting and read words which came straight from him and were signed by his now unfamiliar name. The children, who crouched together frightened by the darkness, were as phantoms to her, like a dream about which she had just got into the stage of doubt. Till now it had been all real to her, as dreams appear at first. But now, she stood, closing the door in the stillness of the evening, which, still as it was, was full of curiosity and questioning and prying eyes, and asked herself if these little figures were real, or inventions of her fancy. Real children of her living brother—was it true, was it possible? They were awe-stricken by the gathering dusk, by the strange half-empty room, by the dim circle of the unknown which surrounded them on every side. The nurse had put herself upon a chair on the edge of the carpet, where she sat holding the little boy on her knee, while little Lilias, who had backed slowly towards this one familiar figure, stood leaning against her, clutching her also with one hand, though she concealed instinctively this sign of fear. The boy withdrew the wondering whiteness of his face from the nurse’s shoulder now and then to give a frightened, fascinated look around, then buried it again in a dumb trance of dismay and terror, too frightened to cry. What was to be done with these frightened children and the strange woman to whom they clung? Mary could not keep them here to send them wild with alarm. They wanted soft beds, warm fires, cheerful lights, food and comfort, and they had come to seek it in the only house in the world which was closed by a curse and a vow against them. Mary Musgrave was not the kind of woman who is easily frightened by vows or curses; there was none of the romantic folly in her which would believe in the reality of an unjust or uncalled-for malediction. But she was persuaded of the reality of a thing which involved no supernatural mysteries, the obstinancy of her father’s mind, and his determination to hold by the verdict he had given. Years move and change everything, even the hills and the seas—but not the narrow mind of an obstinate and selfish man. She did not call him by these names; he was her father and she did not judge him; but no more did she hope in him. And in this wonderful moment a whole circle of possibilities ran through her mind. She might take them to the village; but there were other dangers there; or to the Parsonage, but Mr. Pen was weak and poor Emily a gossip. Could she dare the danger that was nearest, and take them somehow upstairs out of the way, and conceal them there, defying her father? In whatever way it was settled she would not desert them—but what was she to do? Miss Brown coming upon her suddenly in the dusk frightened her almost as much as the children were frightened. The want of light and the strangeness of the crisis combined made every new figure like a ghost.
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