Mary Seaham: A Novel. Volume 2 of 3Grey, Mrs. (Elizabeth Caroline)
General
Mary Seaham: A Novel. Volume 2 of 3
Grey, Mrs. (Elizabeth Caroline)
Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
He had some few books with him, but he scarcely read, save in one, the
Bible. Plenty of money the stranger was provided with, for he paid his
expenses handsomely, and gave often freely to those few poor who came
in his way; but yet his very name remained a mystery, if that could be
called mystery, which none cared to inquire or ascertain; and when the
first warm beams of springtide sun melted the snow upon the
mountain-tops, as suddenly as he came, so he departed, none knew or
asked whither.
But he did not, as it seems, go far. In a small Welsh town, not twenty
miles distant, a few days after, and that stranger, who it seemed had,
uninjured, so roughly exposed himself to the fatigues and inclemency of
the wintry weather during his sojourn in his late retreat, lay
dangerously ill in a comfortable little inn belonging to the place;
unknown here also, but tended with all the disinterested care and
kindness which seldom fails to cheer the stranger in that mountain land.
Skilful medical attendance was happily provided; and the fever, against
whose advances the sufferer, with a peculiarly nervous dread, seemed to
battle--by proper means was subdued, and the sick man partially
recovered.
As he lay upon his bed one of the first mornings after his
convalescence, a merry peal from the bells of the neighbouring church
burst upon his ear. Merrier and merrier they continued to ring, and the
invalid turned sadly and wearily round upon his pillow, as if he would
fain have escaped from sounds of joy, harmonizing so little with his
lonely heart.
"Truly there is a joy with which the stranger intermeddleth not."
But still those sounds, as if in very mockery and despite, continued to
clash forth at intervals during the day, caring little for the sick
hearts and wounded spirits upon which that merriment might chance to
jar.
"You are very gay," the stranger said with a melancholy smile to his
landlady, when she came to attend him that day; and the remark was
answered by the ready information, that the bells were this day ringing
on occasion of a marriage which that morning had taken place in the
neighbourhood, the bride being a young lady of a family of long standing
in these parts. The gentleman, a widower and a Scotchman, &c. But all
this her listener heeded not.
* * * * *
"Bells thou soundest merrily
When the bridal party
To the church doth hie;
Bells thou soundest solemnly,
When on Sabbath mornings,
Fields deserted lie."
It was Sunday morning, and all the people of the place were flocking to
the Welsh service of the church; but the English stranger mingled not
with these. No--rather as he had turned wearily away from the mad music
of the marriage-bell, did his languid footsteps turn aside, when now in
more solemn cadence it sounded in his ear.
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