Christian life; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
'God, reward thee, blessed creature!' said he once, when late in the
night we were separating at the door of the sick-room, where he had been
sharing the vigils of the nurse and me. 'My child's own mother forsakes
her, while you!--God reward you.' As he spoke, he clasped my hand
between his, and fervently pressed his lips to my forehead. But I
started with a confusion like that of detected guilt, when I perceived,
at a little distance, the half-concealed face of Mrs Boswell, scowling
malignity and detection. Whilst I stood for a moment in motionless
expectation of what was to follow, she darted forward, undressed as she
was; her lip quivering, her face void of all colour except a line of
strong scarlet bordering her eyelids. 'Mighty well!' cried she, in
accents half choked by something between a hysterical giggle and a sob.
'Mighty well, indeed! I knew how it was! I have seen it all well enough.
But I'm not such a fool as you think! I won't endure it--that I won't.'
Provoked by the recollection that this degrading remonstrance was
uttered within hearing of a domestic, I looked towards Mr Boswell for
defence; but seeing him cower like a condemned culprit, I was obliged to
answer for myself. 'What will you not endure, madam?' said I. 'Your own
preposterous fancy?--I know of nothing else that you have to endure.'
Mrs Boswell's natural cowardice always took part against her with a
resolute antagonist. 'I am sure,' said she, whimpering between fear and
wrath, 'I don't want to have any words with you, Miss Percy--only I
wish--I am sure it would be very obliging if you would go quietly out of
this house--and not stay here enticing other people's husbands----'
At this coarse accusation, the indignant blood rose to my forehead. But
the provocation was great enough to remind me that this was a fit
occasion of forbearance; and I subdued my voice and countenance into
stern composure, while I said, 'Woman! I would answer you, were I sure
of speaking only what a Christian ought to speak.' Then turning from
her, I took refuge from further insult in the apartment which I knew she
did not dare to approach.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account