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Page 12
Patiently and devotedly did she watch beside the couch of her poor
aunt; one day suffering the most acute anxiety if the symptoms became
worse than usual; the next full of hope as they abated. Did I say
that one day after another this was the case? I should have written
it, one hour after another; for truly, at times she fluctuated so
considerably, that no one less hopeful than Mabel could have continued
faithful to hope. As Sarah Bond gained strength, she began to question
her as to the past. Mabel spoke cautiously; but, unused to any species
of dissimulation, could not conceal the fact, that the old furniture,
so valued by her uncle, and bequeathed with a conditional blessing,
was gone--sold! This had a most unhappy effect on the mind of Sarah
Bond. She felt as if her father's curse was upon her. She dared
not trust herself to speak upon the subject. When the good rector
(Mr. Goulding) alluded to the sale, and attempted to enter into
particulars, or give an account of the affairs he had so kindly and so
ably managed, she adjured him in so solemn a manner never to speak of
the past, if he wished her to retain her reason, that he, unconscious
of the motive, and believing it arose entirely from regret at her
changed fortunes, avoided it as much as she could desire; and thus
she had no opportunity of knowing how much had been saved by the
benevolence of a few kind persons. Sarah Bond fell into the very
common error of imagining that persons ought to _know_ her thoughts
and feelings, without her explaining them. But her mind and judgment
had been so enfeebled by illness and mental suffering, that, even
while she opposed her opinions, she absolutely leaned on Mabel--as
if the oak called to the woodbine to support its branches. What gave
Mabel the most uneasiness, was the determination she had formed to
leave the cottage as soon as she was able to be removed; and she
was seriously displeased because Mabel mentioned this intention to
Mr. Goulding. Despite all poor Mabel could urge to the contrary,
they quitted the neighbourhood--the sphere of Sarah Bond's sudden
elevation, and as sudden depression--alone, at night, and on foot. It
was a clear, moonlight evening, in midsummer, when the twilight can
hardly be said to give place to darkness; and when the moon shines out
so very brightly, that the stars are reduced to pale lone sparks of
_white_ rather than _light_, in the blue sky. It was a lovely evening;
the widow with whom they had lodged was not aware of their intention
until about an hour before their departure. She was very poor and
ignorant, but her nature was kind; and when Sarah Bond pressed upon
her, out of her own scanty store, a little present of money beyond her
stipulated rent, she would not take it, but accompanied them to the
little gate with many tears, receiving charge of a farewell letter
to the rector. "And haven't you one to leave me for the curate?" she
inquired. "Deary me! but I'm sure for every once the old gentleman
came when Miss Bond was so bad, the curate came three times; and no
letter for him! deary, oh, deary me!"
"Why did you not put me in mind to write to Mr. Lycight, Mabel?"
inquired her aunt, after the gate, upon which the poor woman leaned,
had closed.
Mabel made no reply; but Sarah felt the hand she held tightly within
hers tremble and throb. How did she then remember the days of her own
youth, as she thought, "Oh! in mercy _she_ might have escaped from
what only so causes the pulses to beat or the hand to tremble!"
Neither spoke; but Sarah had turned over the great page of Mabel's
heart, while Mabel did not confess, even to herself, that Mr.
Lycight's words, however slight, were more deeply cherished than Mr.
Goulding's precepts. They had a long walk to take that night, and
both wept at first; but however sad and oppressed the mind and spirits
maybe, there is a soothing and balmy influence in nature that lulls,
if it does not dispel, sorrow; every breeze was perfumed. As they
passed the hedges, there was a rustling and murmuring of birds amongst
the leaves; and Mabel could not forbear an exclamation of delight
when she saw a narrow river, now half-shadowed, then bright in the
moonbeams, bounding in one place like a thing of life, then brawling
around sundry large stones that impeded its progress, again subsiding
into silence, and flowing onward to where a little foot-bridge, over
which they had to pass, arched its course; beyond this was the church,
and there Mabel knew they were to await the coach which was to convey
them to a village many miles from their old homes, and where Sarah
Bond had accidentally heard there was a chance of establishing a
little school. Mabel paused for a moment to look at the venerable
church standing by the highway, the clergyman's house crouching in the
grove behind. The hooting and wheeling of the old owls in the ivied
tower was a link of life. Sarah Bond passed the turn-stile that led
into the church-yard, followed by Mabel, who shuddered when she found
herself surrounded by damp grass-green graves, and beneath the shadows
of old yew-trees.
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