England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction
Mrs. Brand and Mrs. Langton did not feel the inconvenience; both before
and after the departure of Edward Thornton, they lived in a round of
visits and country gaieties. People, I believe, must not have known that
I existed, for I was never included in the invitations they received; and
the peculiar life my grandfather led, had so thoroughly estranged him
from his neighbours, that not one of them ever crossed the threshold of
his dwelling. What kept two such gay ladies in so gloomy an abode, was,
for some time, more than I could tell, or find out, spite of the
mysterious hints which Mrs. Brand dropped now and then.
My cousin had been gone a week, when Mr. Thornton was suddenly called
away on business. He placed his study under my care, with the strict,
but, as it seemed to me, unnecessary prohibition of allowing any one to
enter this sacred place. He still employed me as reader and amanuensis,
and had left me plenty of manuscripts to transcribe. I sat writing by the
open window, when the sound of the opening door made me look up. I saw
Mrs. Brand. She came in with a mysterious air, and locked the door after
her. I rose, and with some embarrassment, informed her of my
grandfather's orders.
"I am not at all astonished," she replied, calmly.
"I am sorry to be the bearer of such a message," I said, with some
emphasis.
"True," she sighed, sitting down as she spoke, and her eye wandering
keenly over the whole room. I reminded her that Mr. Thornton's orders
admitted of no exception. She shook her head, raised her handkerchief to
her eyes, withdrew it after a decent pause, and observed, mournfully:--
"Bound as I am to Mr. Thornton by the ties of blood--bound, I may say, by
the ties of affection--it is melancholy--My dear, is he to be long out?"
"I don't know, ma'am; but he said--"
"Yes, dear, I know. Bound by the ties of affection, it is melancholy even
to allude to the mysterious calamity which has befallen him. I have with
pleasure noticed your reserve."
"Indeed, Ma'am, I am ignorant--"
"Quite right, dear, quite proper. Of course you have noticed
peculiarities of thought, speech, and conduct. No one, indeed, has had so
good an opportunity as you have possessed; but you have discreetly
abstained from comment. You had heard of dungeons, chains, whips, strait-
waistcoats, and keepers; you did not know that there are places where the
afflicted are happier far than when allowed the indulgence of their own
wayward wills; indeed, where they are only restricted in one or two
trifling matters, for their own good of course."
She sighed as she concluded.
"Excuse me, Ma'am," I said, much astonished, "you mistake; I never
thought anything of the sort, and never for a moment connected the places
you mention with Mr. Thornton."
"I see; you thought of keeping it quiet in the family; very amiable, but
impracticable."
"No, Ma'am, I did not think of that either."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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