Doctor Grimshawe's Secret — a RomanceHawthorne, Nathaniel
Science
Doctor Grimshawe's Secret — a Romance
Hawthorne, Nathaniel
Fiction
The little girl, however, was the merrier of the two. It was quite
unintelligible, in view of the little care that crusty Hannah took
of her, and, moreover, since she was none of your prim, fastidious
children, how daintily she kept herself amid all this dust; how
the spider’s webs never clung to her, and how, when--without being
solicited--she clambered into the Doctor’s arms and kissed him, she bore
away no smoky reminiscences of the pipe that he kissed continually. She
had a free, mellow, natural laughter, that seemed the ripened fruit of
the smile that was generally on her little face, to be shaken off
and scattered abroad by any breeze that came along. Little Elsie made
playthings of everything, even of the grim Doctor, though against his
will, and though, moreover, there were tokens now and then that the
sight of this bright little creature was not a pleasure to him, but,
on the contrary, a positive pain; a pain, nevertheless, indicating
a profound interest, hardly less deep than though Elsie had been his
daughter.
Elsie did not play with the great spider, but she moved among the whole
brood of spiders as if she saw them not, and, being endowed with other
senses than those allied to these things, might coexist with them and
not be sensible of their presence. Yet the child, I suppose, had her
crying fits, and her pouting fits, and naughtiness enough to entitle her
to live on earth; at least crusty Hannah often said so, and often made
grievous complaint of disobedience, mischief, or breakage, attributable
to little Elsie; to which the grim Doctor seldom responded by anything
more intelligible than a puff of tobacco-smoke, and, sometimes, an
imprecation; which, however, hit crusty Hannah instead of the child.
Where the child got the tenderness that a child needs to live upon, is a
mystery to me; perhaps from some aged or dead mother, or in her dreams;
perhaps from some small modicum of it, such as boys have, from the
little boy; or perhaps it was from a Persian kitten, which had grown to
be a cat in her arms, and slept in her little bed, and now assumed grave
and protective airs towards her former playmate. [Endnote: 2.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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