England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Wessex (England) -- Fiction
‘What’s the person calling about?’ she said in alarm.
Stockdale told the girl’s errand, adding seriously, ‘I cannot wake Mrs.
Newberry.’
‘It is no matter,’ said her mother. ‘I can let the girl have what she
wants as well as my daughter.’ And she came out of the room and went
downstairs.
Stockdale retired towards his own apartment, saying, however, to Mrs.
Simpkins from the landing, as if on second thoughts, ‘I suppose there
is nothing the matter with Mrs. Newberry, that I could not wake her?’
‘O no,’ said the old lady hastily. ‘Nothing at all.’
Still the minister was not satisfied. ‘Will you go in and see?’ he
said. ‘I should be much more at ease.’
Mrs. Simpkins returned up the staircase, went to her daughter’s room,
and came out again almost instantly. ‘There is nothing at all the
matter with Lizzy,’ she said; and descended again to attend to the
applicant, who, having seen the light, had remained quiet during this
interval.
Stockdale went into his room and lay down as before. He heard Lizzy’s
mother open the front door, admit the girl, and then the murmured
discourse of both as they went to the store-cupboard for the medicament
required. The girl departed, the door was fastened, Mrs. Simpkins came
upstairs, and the house was again in silence. Still the minister did
not fall asleep. He could not get rid of a singular suspicion, which
was all the more harassing in being, if true, the most unaccountable
thing within his experience. That Lizzy Newberry was in her bedroom
when he made such a clamour at the door he could not possibly convince
himself; notwithstanding that he had heard her come upstairs at the
usual time, go into her chamber, and shut herself up in the usual way.
Yet all reason was so much against her being elsewhere, that he was
constrained to go back again to the unlikely theory of a heavy sleep,
though he had heard neither breath nor movement during a shouting and
knocking loud enough to rouse the Seven Sleepers.
Before coming to any positive conclusion he fell asleep himself, and
did not awake till day. He saw nothing of Mrs. Newberry in the morning,
before he went out to meet the rising sun, as he liked to do when the
weather was fine; but as this was by no means unusual, he took no
notice of it. At breakfast-time he knew that she was not far off by
hearing her in the kitchen, and though he saw nothing of her person,
that back apartment being rigorously closed against his eyes, she
seemed to be talking, ordering, and bustling about among the pots and
skimmers in so ordinary a manner, that there was no reason for his
wasting more time in fruitless surmise.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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