The Lion's Whelp: A Story of Cromwell's Time — John Shaqi
The Lion's Whelp: A Story of Cromwell's TimeBarr, Amelia E.
History
The Lion's Whelp: A Story of Cromwell's Time
Barr, Amelia E.
Great Britain -- History -- Stuarts, 1603-1714 -- Fiction
Matilda took the posset and cake gratefully, and said, "I heard Dr.
Verity gave the women who had come to meet him one of his little rages.
I hope they liked it."
"He only told us the truth," said Jane. "Yes, we liked it."
"Well," said Matilda, "I am not one that wants all England for myself,
but I think I could spare Dr. John Verity, and feel the better of it.
May the Scots make much of him!"
"He is one of the best of men, Matilda."
"Yes, to you, whom he counts as one of the covenanted. To me, he is very
hard, and I cannot forget that he was chief in silencing Father Sacy."
"A few years ago Father Sacy got Dr. Verity imprisoned for preaching the
Word of God. He was two years in a dreadful cell, and his wife and
child died while——"
"And pray what does the Word of God say about doing good to those who
injure you? Dear Jane, never heed my words. I have a privilege to be
ill-natured—the privilege of the losing and the sorrowful."
Thus, in spite of all Jane’s efforts, they still found themselves on
dangerous or debatable ground. All topics were roads leading thither,
and they finally abandoned every kind of tactic and spoke as their
hearts prompted them. Then, though some hard things were said, many
very kind things were also said, and Matilda rose to go home comforted
and helped—for, after all, the tongue is servant to the heart. As she
was tying her hat, a maid called Mrs. Swaffham from the room, and
Matilda lingered, waiting for her return. She stood with Jane at the
window. Their hands were clasped in each other’s, but they were silent,
and both girls appeared to be looking at the beds full of late
flowers—beautiful, pensive flowers, having a positive air of melancholy,
as if they felt the sadness of the autumn sunset. But it was not likely
that either of them saw the flowers; certainly, Matilda’s first words
gave no intimation that she did.
"Heigh-ho!" she said, "why should we worry? Everything comes round in
time to its proper place, and then it will be, as old Anice expects—the
hooks will find the eyes that fit them."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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