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

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Название Ishmael; Or, In the Depths
Автор произведения Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth
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Издательство Языкознание
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isbn 4057664585738



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you know; but Nora does not like wine herself, and I would advise you not to drink all that, for it would certainly get in your head," said Hannah.

      "Law, child, I wish it would; if it would do my head half as much good as it is a-doing of my insides this blessed minute! after being out in the snow, too! Why, it makes me feel as good as preaching all over!" smiled the old woman, slowly sniffing and sipping the elixir of life, while her bleared eyes shone over the rim of the cup like phosphorus.

      "But how came you out in the snow, Mrs. Jones?" inquired Hannah.

      "Why, my dear, good child, when did ever I stop for weather? I've been a-monthly nussing up to Colonel Mervin's for the last four weeks, and my time was up to-day, and so I sat out to come home; and first I stopped on my way and got my tea along of Mrs. Spicer, at Brudenell, and now I s'pose I shall have to stop all night along of you. Can you 'commodate me?"

      "Of course we can," said Hannah. "You can sleep with me and Nora; you will be rather crowded, but that won't matter on a cold night; anyway, it will be better than for you to try to get home in this snow-storm."

      "Thank y', children; and now, to pay you for that, I have got sich a story to tell you! I've been saving of it up till I got dry and warm, 'cause I knew if I did but give you a hint of it, you'd be for wanting to know all the particulars afore I was ready to tell 'em! But now I can sit myself down for a good comfortable chat! And it is one, too, I tell you! good as a novel!" said the old woman, nodded her head knowingly.

      "Oh, what is it about, Mrs. Jones?" inquired Hannah and Nora in a breath, as they stopped knitting and drew their chairs nearer together.

      "Well, then," said the dame, hitching her chair between the sisters, placing a hand upon each of their laps, and looking from one to the other—"what would ye give to know, now?"

      "Nonsense! a night's lodging and your breakfast!" laughed Nora.

      "And ye'll get your story cheap enough at that! And now listen and open your eyes as wide as ever you can!" said the dame, repeating her emphatic gestures of laying her hands heavily upon the knees of the visitors and looking intently from one eager face to the other. "Mr.—Herman—Brudenell—have—got—a—wife! There, now! What d'ye think o' that! aint you struck all of a heap?"

      No, they were not; Hannah's face was perfectly calm; Nora's indeed was radiant, not with wonder, but with joy!

      "There, Hannah! What did I tell you!" she exclaimed. "Mrs. Brudenell has spoken to him and he has owned his marriage! But dear Mrs. Jones, tell me—was his mother very, very angry with him about it?" she inquired, turning to the visitor.

      "Angry? Dear heart, no! pleased as Punch! 'peared's if a great weight was lifted offen her mind," replied the latter.

      "There again, Hannah! What else did I tell you! Herman's mother is a Christian lady! She ill-used me only when she thought I was bad; now Herman has owned his marriage, and she is pleased to find that it is all right! Now isn't that good? Oh, I know I shall love her, and make her love me, too, more than any high-bred, wealthy daughter-in-law ever could! And I shall serve her more than any of her own children ever would! And she will find out the true worth of a faithful, affectionate, devoted heart, that would die to save her or her son, or live to serve both! And she will love me dearly yet!" exclaimed Nora, with a glow of enthusiasm suffusing her beautiful face.

      "Now, what upon the face of the yeth be that gal a-talking about? I want to tell my story!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones, who had been listening indignantly, without comprehending entirely Nora's interruption.

      "Oh, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Jones," laughed the latter, "I should not have jumped to the conclusion of your story. I should have let you tell it in your own manner; though I doubt if you know all about it either, from the way you talk."

      "Don't I, though! I should like to know who knows more."

      "Well, now, tell us all about it!"

      "You've gone and put me out now, and I don't know where to begin."

      "Well, then, I'll help you out—what time was it that Mr. Brudenell acknowledged his private marriage?"

      "There now; how did you know it was a private marriage? I never said nothing about it being private yet! Hows'ever, I s'pose you so clever you guessed it, and anyway you guessed right; it were a private marriage. And when did he own up to it, you ask? Why, not as long as he could help it, you may depend! Not until his lawful wife actilly arove up at Brudenell Hall, and that was last night about one o'clock!"

      "Oh, there you are very much mistaken; it was but seven in the evening," said Nora.

      "There now, again! how do you know anything about it? Somebody's been here afore me and been a-telling of you, I suppose; and a-telling of you wrong, too!" petulantly exclaimed the old woman.

      "No, indeed, there has not been a soul here to-day; neither have we heard a word from Brudenell Hall! Still, I think you must be mistaken as to the hour of the wife's arrival, and perhaps as to other particulars, too; but excuse me, dear Mrs. Jones, and go on and tell the story."

      "Well, but what made you say it was seven o'clock when his wife arrove?" inquired the gossip.

      "Because that was really the hour that I went up to Brudenell. Hannah was with me and knows it."

      "Law, honey, were you up to Brudenell yesterday evening?"

      "To be sure I was! I thought you knew it! Haven't you just said that the marriage was not acknowledged until his wife arrived?"

      "Why, yes, honey; but what's that to do with it? with you being there, I mean? Seems to me there's a puzzlement here between us? Did you stay there till one o'clock, honey?"

      "Why, no, of course not! We came away at eight."

      "Then I'm blessed if I know what you're a-driving at! For, in course, if you come away at eight o'clock you couldn't a-seen her."

      "Seen whom?" questioned Nora.

      "Why, laws, his wife, child, as never arrove till one o'clock."

      Nora burst out laughing; and in the midst of her mirthfulness exclaimed:

      "There, now, Mrs. Jones, I thought you didn't know half the rights of the story you promised to tell us, and now I'm sure of it! Seems like you've heard Mr. Brudenell has acknowledged his marriage; but you haven't even found out who the lady is! Well, I could tell you; but I won't yet, without his leave."

      "So you know all about it, after all? How did you find out?"

      "Never mind how; you'll find out how I knew it when you hear the bride's name," laughed Nora.

      "But I have hearn the bride's name; and a rum un it is, too! Lady, Lady Hoist? no! Hurl? no! Hurt? yes, that is it! Lady Hurt-me-so, that's the name of the lady he's done married!" said the old woman confidently.

      "Ha, ha, ha! I tell you what, Hannah, she has had too much wine, and it has got into her poor old head!" laughed Nora, laying her hand caressingly upon the red-cotton handkerchief that covered the gray hair of the gossip.

      "No, it aint, nuther! I never drunk the half of what you gin me! I put it up there on the mantel, and kivered it over with the brass candlestick, to keep till I go to bed. No, indeed! my head-piece is as clear as a bell!" said the old woman, nodding.

      "But what put it in there, then, that Mr. Herman Brudenell has married a lady with a ridiculous name?" laughed Nora.

      "Acause he have, honey! which I would a-told you all about it ef you hadn't a-kept on, and kept on, and kept on interrupting of me!"

      "Nora," said Hannah, speaking for the first time in many minutes, and looking very grave, "she has something to tell, and we had better let her tell it."

      "Very well, then! I'm agreed! Go on, Mrs. Jones!"

      "Hem-m-m!" began Mrs. Jones, loudly clearing her throat. "Now I'll tell you, jest as I got it, this arternoon, first from Uncle Jovial, and then from Mrs. Spicer, and then from