Home > Authors Index > Juliana Horatia Ewing > Flat Iron for a Farthing > This page
A Flat Iron for a Farthing, a novel by Juliana Horatia Ewing |
||
Chapter 10. Convalescence--Matrimonial Intentions... |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER X. CONVALESCENCE--MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS--THE JOURNEY TO OAKFORD--OUR WELCOME On the day when I first left my sick room, and was moved to a sofa in what had been my poor mother's boudoir, my father put fifty pounds into Nurse Bundle's hand, and sent another fifty to Mr. Andrewes for some communion vessels for the church, on which the rector had set his heart. They were both thank-offerings. "I owe my son's recovery to GOD, and to you, Mrs. Bundle," said my father, with a certain elaborateness of speech to which he was given on important occasions. "No money could purchase such care as you bestowed on him, and no money can reward it; but it will be doing me a farther favour to allow me to think that, should sickness ever overtake yourself when we are no longer together, this little sum, laid by, may come in useful, and afford you a few comforts." That first evening of my convalescence we were quite jubilant; but afterwards there were many weary days of weakness, irritability, and _ennui_ on my part, and anxiety and disappointment on my father's. Rubens was a great comfort at this period. For his winning ways formed an interest, and served a little to vary the monotony of the hours when I was too weak to bear any definite amusement or occupation. It must have been about this time that a long cogitation with myself led to the following conversations with Nurse Bundle and my father:-- "How old are you, Nurse?" I inquired, one forenoon, when she had neatly arranged the tray containing my chop, wine, etc., by my chair. "Five-and-fifty, love, come September," said Nurse Bundle. "Do people ever marry when they are five-and-fifty, papa?" I asked that evening, as I lay languid and weary on the sofa. "Yes, my dear boy, sometimes. But why do you want to know?" "I think I shall marry Nurse Bundle when I am old enough," I said, with almost melancholy gravity. "She's a good deal older than I am; but I love her very much. And she would make me very comfortable. She knows my ways." My father has often told me that he would have laughed aloud, but for the sad air of utter weariness over my helpless figure, the painful, unchildlike anxiousness on my thin face, and in my old-fashioned air and attitude. I have myself quite forgotten the occurrence. At last this most trying time was over, but the fever had left me taller, weaker, and much in need of what doctors call "tone." All concerned in the care of me were now unanimous in declaring that I must have a "change of air." There was some little difficulty in deciding where to go. Another visit to Aunt Maria was out of the question. Even if London had been a suitable place, the fear of infection for my cousins made it not to be thought of. "Where would _you_ like to go, Nurse?" I inquired one evening, as we all sat in the boudoir discussing the topic of the day. "I should like to go wherever it's best for your good health, Master Reginald," was Nurse Bundle's answer, which, though admirable in its spirit, did not further the settlement of the matter we found it so difficult to decide. "But where would you like to go for yourself?" I persisted. "Where would you go if it was you going away, and nobody else?" "Well, my dear, if it was me just going away for myself, I think I should go to my sister's at Oakford." This reply drew from me a catechism of questions about Oakford, and Nurse Bundle's sister, and Nurse Bundle's sister's husband, and their children; and when my father came to sit with me I had a long history of Oakford and Nurse Bundle's relatives at my fingers' ends, and was full of a new fancy, which was strong upon me, to go and stay for awhile at Oakford with Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Buckle. "Nurse says they sometimes let lodgings," I said; "and I should like Nurse to see her sister; and," I candidly added, "I should like to see her myself." My father's uppermost wish was to please me; and as Oakford was known to be healthy, and the doctor favoured the proposition, it was decided according to my wishes. If we stayed long, my father was to go backwards and forwards, and he was to fetch us when we went away. His anxiety was still so great, and led him to watch me in a manner which fidgeted me so much, that I think the doctor was only too glad that the place should be sufficiently near to induce him to leave me to the care of Nurse Bundle. We went by coach to Oakford. I was not allowed to sit outside on this journey. It was only a short one, however; and, truth to say, I did not feel strong enough for any feats of energy, and went meekly enough into that stuffy hole, the inside! Before following me, Nurse Bundle gave some directions to the driver, of a kind that could only be effectual in reference to a small place where everybody was known. "Coachman! Oakford! And drop us at Mr. Buckle's, please, the saddler." "High Street, isn't it?" said the fat coachman, looking down on Mrs. Bundle exactly as a parrot looks down from his perch. "To be sure; only three doors below the 'Crown.'" With which Mrs. Bundle gathered up her skirts, and her worsted workbag, and clambered into the coach. There were two other "insides." One of these never spoke at all during the journey. The other only spoke once, and he seems to have been impelled thereto by a three hours' contemplation of the contrast between my slim, wasted little figure, and Nurse Bundle's portly person, as we sat opposite to him. He was a Scotchman, and I fancy "in business." "You're weel matched to sit on the one side," was his remark. Once, when I was feeling faint, he opened the window without my having spoken, and only acknowledged my thanks by a silent nod. When the coach stopped in the High Street of Oakford, and Nurse Bundle had descended, he so far relaxed, as he handed out me and the worsted workbag, as to indulge his national thirst for general information by the inquiring remark: "You'll be staying at the 'Crown' the night, mem?" "No, sir. We stop here," said Nurse Bundle. I caught his keen blue eye at the window whilst the coach was delayed by the getting out of our luggage. I do not think he missed one feature of our welcome on the threshold of the saddler's shop. I feel sure that Scotchmen do greatly profit by the habit they have of "absorbing into their constitutions," so to speak, all the facts of every kind that come within their ken. They "go in for general information," like the Tom Toddy in Mr. Kingsley's 'Water Babies;' but their hard heads have, fortunately, no likeness to turnips. This, however, is a digression. Mr. Benjamin Buckle, Mrs. Benjamin Buckle, Jemima Buckle, their daughter, Mr. Buckle's apprentice, and the "general girl," or maid-of-all-work, were all in the shop to receive us. I believe the cat was the only living creature in the house who was not there. But cats seldom exert themselves unnecessarily on behalf of other people, and she awaited our arrival upstairs. I had a severe if not undignified struggle with the string before I could get my hat off. Then I advanced, and, holding out my hand to Mr. Buckle, said, "Mr. Buckle, I believe?" [Illustration: "Mr. Buckle, I believe?"] "The same to you, sir, and a many of them," said Mr. Buckle, hastily; being, I fancy, rather put out by the touch of my frail hand, which was certainly very unlike the leather he handled daily. He saw his mistake, and added quickly, "Your servant, sir. I hope your health's better, sir?" "Very well, thank you," said I (all children make that answer, I think). "What a little gentleman!" said Mrs. Buckle, in an audible "aside" to my nurse. She was as good-natured a woman as Mrs. Bundle herself, but with less brains. She lived in a chronic state of surprises and superlatives. "You are Nurse's sister, aren't you, please?" I asked, going up to her, and once more tendering my hand. "I wanted to see you very much." "Now just to think of that, Jemima! did you ever?" cried Mrs. Buckle. "La!" said Jemima; in acknowledgment of which striking remark, I bent my head, and said, "How do you do, Jemima?" adding, almost without an instant's pause, "Please take me away, Nurse! I am so very tired." By one immediate and unbroken action, Mrs. Bundle cut her way through our hospitable friends and the scattered rolls of leather and other trade accessories in the shop, and conveyed me into an arm-chair in the sitting-room upstairs, where I sat, the tears running down my face for very weakness. I had longed for the novelty of a residence above a saddler's shop; but now, too weary for new experiences, I was only conscious that the stairs were narrow, the room dingy and vulgar after the rooms at home, and as I wept I wished I had never come. At this day, I am glad that I had the courtesy to restrain my feelings, and not to damp the delighted welcome of Nurse and her friends by an insulting avowal of my disappointment. I really was not a spoilt child; and indeed, the insolent and undisciplined egotism of many children "now-a-days," was not often tolerated by the past generation. As I sat silent and sad, Nurse Bundle ransacked her bag, muttering, "What a fool I be, to be sure!" and anon produced a flask of wine, from which she filled a wine-glass with a very big leg, which was one of the chimney ornaments. I emptied it in obedience to her orders, and in a few minutes my tears ceased, and I began to take a more cheerful view of the wallpaper and the antimacassars. "What a pretty cat!" I said, at last. The said cat, a beauty, was lying on the hearthrug. "Isn't it a beauty, love?" said Nurse Bundle; "and look, my dear, at your own little dog lying as good as gold in the rocking-chair, and not so much as looking at puss." Rubens did not _quite_ deserve this panegyric. He lay in his chair without touching puss, it is true; but he kept his eye firmly and constantly fixed upon her, only restrained from an attack by my known objection to such proceedings, and by the immovable composure of the good lady herself. Half a movement of encouragement on my part, half a movement of flight on the cat's, and Rubens would have been after her. All this was so plainly expressed in his attitude, that I burst out laughing. Rubens chose to take this as a sound to the chase, and only by the most peremptory orders could I induce him to keep quiet. As to the cat, I saw one convulsive twitch of the very tip of her tail, eloquent of wrath; otherwise she never moved. "Now, my dear," said Mrs. Bundle, "suppose you come upstairs to bed, and get a good night's rest. I can hear Jemima a-shaking of the coals in the warming-pan now, on the stairs." Warming-pans were not much used at home, and I was greatly interested in the brazen implement which Jemima wielded so dexterously. "It's like an ironing cloth," was my comment when I got between the sheets. I had often warmed my hands on the table where Nurse ironed my collars at home. Rubens duly came to bed; and I fell asleep, well satisfied on the whole with Oakford and the saddler's household. _ |
||