But, as the young ladies stood on the broad flight of steps at the hall
door, an antique figure drew nigh--an old lady, the shape of an egg, so
short and stout was she. On her head she wore a black silk bonnet
constructed many years ago, with a droll design, viz., to keep off sun,
rain, and wind; it was like an iron coal scuttle, slightly shortened; yet
have I seen some very pretty faces very prettily framed in such a bonnet.
She had an old black silk gown that only reached to her ankle, and over
it a scarlet cloak of superfine cloth, fine as any colonel or queen's
outrider ever wore, and looking splendid, though she had used it forty
years, at odd times. This dame had escaped the village ill, rheumatics,
and could toddle along without a staff at a great, and indeed a fearful,
pace; for, owing to her build, she yawed so from side to side at every
step that, to them who knew her not, a capsize appeared inevitable.
“Mrs. Judge, I declare,” cried Zoe.
“Ay, Miss Hannah Judge it is. Your sarvant, ma'am;” and she dropped two
courtesies, one for each lady.
Mrs. Judge was Harrington's old nurse. Zoe often paid a visit to her
cottage, but she never came to Vizard Court except on Harrington's
birthday, when the servants entertained all the old pensioners and
retainers at supper. Her sudden appearance, therefore, and in gala
costume, astonished Zoe. Probably her face betrayed this, for the old
lady began, “You wonder to see me here, now, doan't ye?”
“Well, Mrs. Judge,” said Zoe, diplomatically, “nobody has a better right
to come.”
“You be very good, miss. I don't doubt my welcome nohow.”
“But,” said Zoe, playfully, “you seldom do us the honor; so I _am_ a
little surprised. What can I do for you?”
“You does enough for me, miss, you and young squire. I bain't come to ask
no favors. I ain't one o' that sort. I'll tell ye why I be come. 'Tis to
warn you all up here.”
“This is alarming,” said Zoe to Fanny.
“That is as may be,” said Mrs. Judge; “forwarned, forearmed, the by-word
sayeth. There is a young 'oman a-prowling about this here parish as don't
belong to _hus.”_
“La,” said Fanny, “mustn't we visit your parish if we were not born
there?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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