“Yes, sir. A bright little thing, and fair as a lily. I saw her the
other day when I was over at Hanwitch. She was with her mamma, and I
never see such a likeness as there is between her and her poor drowned
papa. But you’re askin’ about old Mrs. Flemming. Why, she died four
years ago. She was very old, and went off quite peaceful, they said.
What with Mrs. Flemming’s death, and her never getting any news of her
husband, and having a tiny little baby to find food for, I do think
the poor young lady’s heart nearly broke. I never heard exactly how
the money matter was with her, but I believe that when Mrs. Flemming
died she would have nothing to live on but her husband’s pay, which was
stopped when he was given up for lost. Mr. Newcome was very kind, and
paid her rent, and helped her along while he lived; and then Mr. Conway
saw her; but it was a long time before she would marry him, long after
the poor old rector was dead and gone, and she found that taking in
needlework was worse than going on the parish. I often think of her--I
do, indeed, sir--waiting day after day for her husband, who was never
to come home. I’d rather, myself, have married anybody than a sailor.
There’s no telling, when once they go, whether they’ll ever come back
again. They’re worse nor soldiers for that.”
Here the woman, suddenly conceiving that she had talked quite enough,
and perhaps a little too much, dropped a courtesy and left the room;
but came back again to ask two questions--At what hour would the
gentleman please to dine? and would he like to have a bed-room in her
house? She could recommend her bed-rooms. Her linen was clean as snow.
“I will tell you presently,” answered Holdsworth. “I have not yet
decided upon my movements.”
“There’s a nice plump fowl----”
“Yes, cook me that by seven o’clock,” said Holdsworth, who was
feverishly impatient to be left alone.
She closed the door, and Holdsworth leaned his temples on his hands
and fixed his heavy eyes on the bare table, taking the attitude of a
student striving to master some difficult problem.
For many minutes he held this posture, presently lifted his head, and
looked about him; then took his hat and went out.
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