Ishmael; Or, In the Depths. Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth

they oversee so little and overlook so much. Now, there's the hinges nearly rusted off the big barn door, and I dessay he never saw it."

      "Well, Morris, call his attention to that also; do whatever you find necessary to be done, and call upon Grainger to settle with you."

      "Yes, madam. It wasn't on'y the rain pipes and hinges as wanted attention that brought me here, however, ma'am,"

      "What was it, then? Be quick, if you please. I am very much occupied this morning."

      "Yes, madam. It was something I heard and felt it my duty to tell you; because, you see, ma'am, I think it is the duty of every honest—"

      "Come, come, Morris, I have no time to listen to an oration from you now. In two words, what had you to tell me?" interrupted the lady impatiently.

      "Yes, madam. It were about young Mr. Herman, ma'am."

      "Mr. Brudenell, if you please, Morris. My son is the head of his family."

      "Certainly, madam. Mr. Brudenell."

      "Well, what about Mr. Brudenell?"

      "Yes, madam. You know he was away from home every day last spring and summer."

      "I remember; he went to fish; he is very fond of fishing."

      "Certainly, madam; but he was out every day this autumn."

      "I am aware of that; he was shooting; he is an enthusiastic sportsman."

      "To be sure, madam, so he is; but he is gone every day this winter."

      "Of course; hunting; there is no better huntsman in the country than Mr. Brudenell."

      "That is very true, madam; do you know what sort of game he is a-huntin' of?" inquired the professor meaningly, but most deferentially.

      "Foxes, I presume," said the lady, with a look of inquiry.

      "Yes, madam, sure enough; I suppose they is foxes, though in female form," said the professor dryly, but still respectfully.

      "Whatever do you mean, Morris?" demanded the lady sternly.

      "Well, madam, if it was not from a sense of duty, I would not dare to speak to you on this subject; for I think when a man presumes to meddle with things above his speer, he—"

      "I remarked to you before, Morris, that I had no time to listen to your moral disquisitions. Tell me at once, then, what you meant to insinuate by that strange speech," interrupted the lady.

      "Yes, madam, certainly. When you said Mr. Brudenell was a hunting of foxes, I saw at once the correctness of your suspicions, madam; for they is foxes."

      "Who are foxes?"

      "Why, the Miss Worthses, madam."

      "The Miss Worths! the weavers! why, what on earth have they to do with what we nave been speaking of?"

      "Yes, madam; the Miss Worthses is the foxes that Mr. Brudenell is a-huntin' of."

      "The Miss Worths? My son hunting the Miss Worths! What do you mean, sir? Take care what you say of Mr. Brudenell, Morris."

      "Yes, madam, certainly; I won't speak another word on the subject; and I beg your pardon for having mentioned it at all; which I did from a sense of duty to your family, madam, thinking you ought to know it; but I am very sorry I made such a mistake, and again I beg your pardon, madam, and I humbly take my leave." And with a low bow the professor turned to depart.

      "Stop, fool!" said Mrs. Brudenell. And the "fool" stopped and turned, hat in hand, waiting further orders.

      "Do you mean to say that Mr. Brudenell goes after those girls?" asked the lady, raising her voice ominously.

      "Yes, madam; leastways, after Miss Nora. You see, madam, young gentlemen will be young gentlemen, for all their mas can say or do; and when the blood is warm and the spirits is high, and the wine is in and the wit is out—"

      "No preaching, I say! Pray, are you a clergyman or a barrister? Tell me at once what reason you have for saying that my son goes to Worths' cottage?"

      "Yes, madam; I has seen him often and often along of Miss Nora a-walking in the valley forest, when I have been there myself looking for herbs and roots to make up my vegetable medicines with. And I have seen him go home with her. And at last I said, 'It is my bounden duty to go and tell the madam.'"

      "You are very sure of what you say?"

      "Yes, madam, sure as I am of my life and my death."

      "This is very annoying! very! I had supposed Mr. Brudenell to have had better principles. Of course, when a young gentleman of his position goes to see a girl of hers, it can be but with one object. I had thought Herman had better morals, and Hannah at least more sense! This is very annoying! very!" said the lady to herself, as her brows contracted with anger. After a few moments spent in silent thought, she said:

      "It is the girl Nora, you say, he is with so much?"

      "Yes, madam."

      "Then go to the hut this very evening and tell that girl she must come up here to-morrow morning to see me. I thank you for your zeal in my service, Morris, and will find a way to reward you. And now you may do my errand."

      "Certainly, madam! My duty to you, madam," said the professor, with a low bow, as he left the room and hurried away to deliver his message to Nora Worth.

      "This is very unpleasant," said the lady. "But since Hannah has no more prudence than to let a young gentleman visit her sister, I must talk to the poor, ignorant child myself, and warn her that she risks her good name, as well as her peace of mind."

CHAPTER VII.

       Table of Contents

      MOTHER- AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW.

      Your pardon, noble lady!

       My friends were poor but honest—so is my love;

       Be not offended, for it hurts him not

       That he is loved of me. My dearest madam,

       Let not your hate encounter with my love

       For loving where you do. —Shakspere.

      The poor sisters had just finished their afternoon meal, cleaned their room, and settled themselves to their evening's work. Nora was spinning gayly, Hannah weaving diligently—the whir of Nora's wheel keeping time to the clatter of Hannah's loom, when the latch was lifted and Herman Brudenell, bringing a brace of hares in his hand, entered the hut.

      "There, Hannah, those are prime! I just dropped in to leave them, and to say that it is certain my mother leaves for Washington on Saturday. On Sunday morning I shall bring my wife home; and you, too, Hannah; for if you will not consent to live with us, you must still stop with us until you and Gray are married and ready to go to the West," he said, throwing the game upon the table, and shaking hands with the sisters. His face was glowing from exercise, and his eyes sparkling with joy.

      "Sit down, Mr. Brudenell," said Hannah hospitably.

      The young man hesitated, and a look of droll perplexity passed over his face as he said:

      "Now don't tempt me, Hannah, my dear; don't ask me to stop this evening; and don't even let me do so if I wish to. You see I promised my mother to be home in time to meet some friends at dinner, and I am late now! Good-by, sister; good-by, sweet wife! Sunday morning, Mrs. Herman Brudenell, you will take the head of your own table at Brudenell Hall!"

      And giving Hannah a cordial shake of the hand, and Nora a warm kiss, he hurried from the hut.

      When he had closed the door behind him, the sisters looked at each other.

      "Think of it, Hannah!