Victorian Short Stories: Stories of Successful Marriages
General
Victorian Short Stories: Stories of Successful Marriages
Marriage -- Fiction; Short stories
'You will not,' said Norah, starting forward. 'You shall not, sir!
No policeman shall touch me. I know nothing of the brooch, but I know
this: ever since I was four-and-twenty, I have thought more of your
wife than of myself: ever since I saw her, a poor motherless girl, put
upon in her uncle's house, I have thought more of serving her than
of serving myself! I have cared for her and her child, as nobody
ever cared for me. I don't cast blame on you, sir, but I say it's ill
giving up one's life to anyone; for, at the end, they will turn round
upon you, and forsake you. Why does not my missus come herself to
suspect me? Maybe, she is gone for the police? But I don't stay here,
either for police, or magistrate, or master. You're an unlucky lot.
I believe there's a curse on you. I'll leave you this very day. Yes!
I'll leave that poor Ailsie, too. I will! No good ever will come to
you!'
Mr Openshaw was utterly astonished at this speech; most of which was
completely unintelligible to him, as may easily be supposed. Before he
could make up his mind what to say, or what to do, Norah had left
the room. I do not think he had ever really intended to send for
the police to this old servant of his wife's; for he had never for a
moment doubted her perfect honesty. But he had intended to compel
her to tell him who the man was, and in this he was baffled. He was,
consequently, much irritated. He returned to his uncle and aunt in a
state of great annoyance and perplexity, and told them he could get
nothing out of the woman; that some man had been in the house the
night before; but that she refused to tell who he was. At this moment
his wife came in, greatly agitated, and asked what had happened to
Norah; for that she had put on her things in passionate haste, and
left the house.
'This looks suspicious,' said Mr Chadwick. 'It is not the way in which
an honest person would have acted.'
Mr Openshaw kept silence. He was sorely perplexed. But Mrs Openshaw
turned round on Mr Chadwick, with a sudden fierceness no one ever saw
in her before.
'You don't know Norah, uncle! She is gone because she is deeply hurt
at being suspected. Oh, I wish I had seen her--that I had spoken to
her myself. She would have told me anything.' Alice wrung her hands.
'I must confess,' continued Mr Chadwick to his nephew, in a lower
voice, 'I can't make you out. You used to be a word and a blow,
and oftenest the blow first; and now, when there is every cause for
suspicion, you just do nought. Your missus is a very good woman,
I grant; but she may have been put upon as well as other folk, I
suppose. If you don't send for the police, I shall.'
'Very well,' replied Mr Openshaw, surlily. 'I can't clear Norah. She
won't clear herself, as I believe she might if she would. Only I wash
my hands of it; for I am sure the woman herself is honest, and she's
lived a long time with my wife, and I don't like her to come to
shame.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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