<h2 id='ch14' class='c007'>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
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<div><i>Riding a Pillion</i></div>
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<p>
DOLLY and I had spent great
Part of the Afternoon in
brushing up and cleaning
an old black riding Skirt of
my Mother’s, which it was
a Wonder I had not cut up into Garments
for the Poor. When we had cleaned it
with Hollands, and ironed it nicely, it
looked very well; for our House was so
airy, that our Clothes never had the
Moth.</p>
<p class='c013'>Precisely at the Hour named, an old
Man in purple Livery rode up to the
Door, on a grey Horse with a Pillion.
<i>Mark</i>, who was very lively this Morning,
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_242'>242</span>told me he thought the Horse looked
like a Bolter; but I knew he was only
laughing at me. Then he asked me
how I meant to mount; I said, with a
Chair, to be sure. He said, “Nonsense!”
and lifted me up in a Moment, and
arranged my Riding-skirt as nicely as if
he had been a Lady’s Groom. Then he
told the old Man to be careful of me;
but the old Coachman proved to be both
dull and deaf, by reason of great Age;
so <i>Mark</i> whispered me that he was not
afraid of his running away with me, if
the Horse did not; finishing with “Good-bye,
<i>Mistress Blower</i>.”</p>
<p class='c013'>I gave him an indignant Look, and
said, “For shame, <i>Mark</i>! I have not
deserved that!”</p>
<p class='c013'>“Well,” said he, “<i>I</i> think you <i>have</i>.”
And just then the old Man jerked the
Rein of the old Horse, which moved off
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_243'>243</span>so suddenly, that I was fain to catch hold
of the old Man’s Coat; and the last
Glance I had of <i>Mark</i> was a merry one.</p>
<p class='c013'>At first I felt a little bit frightened;
but soon got used to my new Position;
especially as the Horse walked till we
were off the Stones. Still we seemed a
long while getting out of <i>London</i>; and
we met a great many People returning
to it, in Carts, Waggons, and Coaches.</p>
<p class='c013'>At length we got quite out of Town,
and between green Hedges, with Trees
beyond them that were turning all manner
of Colours; with only a House here
and there, or a Wayside Inn. At one
of the latter we stopped in the middle
of the Day, to rest the Horse, and take
some Refreshment. Then we continued
our Journey, which lasted till Sunset,
and the latter Part of which was mighty
pleasant and delightsome; only I was
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_244'>244</span>beginning to be a little weary with so
much shaking. But, when I saw how
charming a Place the Country was, I
wondered how People could live in
Towns ... unless on a Bridge.</p>
<p class='c013'>At length we turned off the Highway
into a Bye-road, shaded with tall Trees,
which, after a Mile or two, brought us
to a straggling Village; and, says the
Coachman, “Mistress, now we’s in <i>Bucklands</i>.”
Presently we passed the absolutest
curiosity of a little old Church!...
it seemed hardly bigger than a
Nutmeg-grater!—and hard by it, the
old Parsonage, with three Stone Peaks
in front, and a great Pear-Tree before
the Door.</p>
<p class='c013'>Then we came to a Village Green,
with a Clump of large Trees in the
Midst, that had Seats round them, whereon
sat old Men, while young Men played
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_245'>245</span>Cricket, and little Boys were setting a
Puppy to bark at some white Geese.
Here we came to a great Iron Gate,
at which stood a hale, hearty-looking
Gentleman about fifty; square-built, and
not over-tall; with a good-humoured,
red, mottled Face. And, says he, coming
up to me, as we stopped, “Mistress
<i>Cherry</i>, I’m Squire <i>Blower</i>. I can guess
who you are, though my Brother did
not tell me you were such a pretty
Girl.—Oh, the Sinner!” And lifted
me off the Horse.</p>
<p class='c013'>“Well,” says he, “you don’t look quite
sure that I’s I.... I <i>am</i>, though!
Certainly, not much like <i>Nat</i>, who was
always the Beauty of the Family. Ah!
now you laugh, which was just what I
wanted. My Brother said your silver
Laugh saved his Life;—do you know
what he meant by that?”</p>
<p class='c013'><span class="pagenum" id='Page_246'>246</span>We were now walking up a strait
gravel Walk, between clipped Hedges,
to an old red-brick House, with stone
Facings. “I suppose, Sir,” said I, after
thinking a little, “he meant that my
laughing was as good as Silver to him,
because it saved him the Doctor.”</p>
<p class='c013'>“That was it, no doubt,” returns he;
“just such an Answer, Mistress <i>Cherry</i>,
as I expected. I see we shall get on
very well together, though <i>Nat</i> is not
here to help the Acquaintance.—He
has gone to see his old Foster-mother,
who is dying. People <i>will</i> die, you
know, when they get to eighty or
ninety.”</p>
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<p><span class='small'>An old red-brick House</span></p>
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<p class='c013'>We were now going up a Flight of
shallow Steps, with Stone Ballusters,
which led us into a Hall, paved with
great Diamonds of black and white
Marble, and hung about with Guns,
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_247'>247</span>Fishing-rods, and Stag’s Horns. An
Almanack and King <i>Charles’s</i> golden
Rules were pasted against the Wall; and
a stuffed Otter in a Glass Case hung over
the great Fire-place, where a Wood-fire
burned on the Hearth.</p>
<p class='c013'>Before this Wood-fire was spread a
small <i>Turkey</i> Carpet; and on the Carpet
stood a Table and four heavy Chairs; in
one of which sat an old Lady knitting.
The Squire bluntly accosted her with
“Mother, here’s Mistress <i>Cherry</i>;” on
which she said, “Ho!”—laid down her
Knitting, and looked hard at me; first
over, and then through her Spectacles.</p>
<p class='c013'>“Hum!” says she, “Mistress <i>Cherry</i>,
you are welcome. A good Day to you.
Pray make yourself at Home, and be
seated.”</p>
<p class='c013'>So I sat down over against her, and we
looked at each other very stiff. She was
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_248'>248</span>short and fat, with round blue Eyes, and
a rosy Complexion; and had a sharper,
shrewder Look than the Squire.</p>
<p class='c013'>“I dare say she’s hungry, Mother,”
says the Squire; “give her a Piece of
Gingerbread or Something.—How soon
shall we have Supper?”</p>
<p class='c013'>“You are always in such a Hurry,
Father, to be eating;” says his Lady.
“Forsooth, are we not to wait for your
Brother?”</p>
<p class='c013'>And without waiting for his Answer,
she took a bunch of Keys from her
Apron-string, and unlocked a little Corner-cupboard,
from which she brought me a
Slice of rich Seed-cake, and a large Glass
of Wine.</p>
<p class='c013'>“Thank you, Madam; I am not
hungry,” said I.</p>
<p class='c013'>“Pooh! Child, you must be;” returns
she, rather authoritatively. “Never
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_249'>249</span>be afraid of eating and drinking before
Company, as if it were a Crime!”</p>
<p class='c013'>So, thus admonished, I ate and drank:
though I would as lief have waited a
little.</p>
<p class='c013'>“Are you stiff with your Ride?” says
she.</p>
<p class='c013'>“A little, Madam,” said I; “for I was
ne’er on a Horse before.”</p>
<p class='c013'>“Is it possible,” cries she, bursting out
a-laughing. “Father, did you hear that?”</p>
<p class='c013'>“Famous!” said he; and they eyed
me as if I were a Curiosity.</p>
<p class='c013'>“Do you know, now,” says the Squire’s
Lady to me, after a while, “I never was
in <i>Lunnon</i>!”</p>
<p class='c013'>“That seems as strange to me, Madam,”
said I, “as it seems to you that I should
never have been on Horseback.”</p>
<p class='c013'>“It <i>is</i> strange,” says she. “Both are
strange.”</p>
<p class='c013'><span class="pagenum" id='Page_250'>250</span>“And now <i>I’ll</i> tell you Something
that is strange,” says the Squire, “since
we all seem surprising one another.
Do you know, Mistress <i>Cherry</i>,” stepping
up behind his Wife, and laying a
Hand on each of her Shoulders, while
he spoke to me over her Head, “that
this little round-about Woman was
once as pretty a Girl as you are?”</p>
<p class='c013'>“Stuff! Squire,” says his Lady.</p>
<p class='c013'>“Fact!” persisted he. “Nay, prettier!”</p>
<p class='c013'>“Not a Word of Truth in it,” says
she, shaking him off. “I was all very
well,—nothing more. Come, Father,
here’s <i>Gatty</i> going to spread the Cloth
for Supper, which you’ll be glad of.
But, <i>Gatty</i>, in the first Place shew
Mistress <i>Cherry</i> to her Chamber, ...
she will perhaps like to dress a little.
You’ll excuse my attending you, my
Dear; the Stairs try my Breath.”</p>
<p class='c013'><span class="pagenum" id='Page_251'>251</span>I followed <i>Gatty</i> up Stairs to the prettiest
Room that ever was! When I
came down, the Cloth was spread, and
the Squire’s Lady signed me to the Chair
over against her, and was just going to
say Something, when, crossing between
me and the Sun, I saw the Shadow of a
Man against the Wall, and knew it for
Master <i>Blower’s</i>. Ah! what came over
me at that Moment, to make me so
stupid, I know not.—Perhaps that saucy
Saying of <i>Mark’s</i> ... but whatever it
was, instead of my going up to Master
<i>Blower</i>, when he came in, which he
did the next Moment, and asking him
simply and straitforwardly how he was,
I must needs colour all over like a
Goose, and wait till he came quite up
to me, without having a Word to say
for myself.</p>
<p class='c013'>“Ah, <i>Cherry</i>!” says he, taking my
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_252'>252</span>Hand quite frankly, “how glad I am to
see you! Are you quite well?”</p>
<p class='c013'>And, the Moment I heard his pleasant
Voice, I was quite comfortable again,
and felt myself at Home for the first
Time.</p>
<p class='c013'>“Quite, thank you, Sir,” said I, “and
I hope you are better than you were.”</p>
<p class='c013'>“Well, now that civil Things have
passed on both Sides,” said the Squire,
who had already seated himself, “come
and say Grace, <i>Nat</i>, for here’s a
Couple of beautiful Fowls getting
cold.”</p>
<p class='c013'>—Well, the Supper was as pleasant as
could be, and it was growing quite dusk
before the Table was cleared, yet the
Squire would not hear of having Candles;
so then his Lady desired <i>Gatty</i> to carry
Lights into the green Parlour, “Where,”
says she, “I and this young Person will
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_253'>253</span>retire, and be good enough Company
for each other, I dare say.”</p>
<p class='c013'>Oh, I’m a young Person, am I?
thought I. So I followed her into the
green Parlour, where she settled herself
in an easy Chair, with her Feet on a
Footstool, and made me sit facing her.
“Now,” says she, “the Men can prose
by themselves, and we’ll have a Coze
by <i>our</i>selves. Pray, Child, how was
it you came to think of nursing my
Brother?”</p>
<p class='c013'>So I began to tell her how I went to
him in Hope of his telling me how to
find my Father; but then, she wanted to
know how my Father came to be missing,
so I had to go further back. And
then I could not help putting in by the
Way how good and excellent a Man he
was, how tender a Father, how loving a
Husband, which brought in my Mother.
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_254'>254</span>But I checked myself, and begged the
Lady’s Pardon for entering on that, which
I knew could no Ways interest her.—“Nay,
let me hear it all,” says she, “I
shall like to hear Something about your
Mother.” So then I told her of her
holy Life, and saintlike End; and of
Master <i>Blower’s</i> invaluable Ministrations,
which of course interested her a good
deal; and indeed I saw a Tear steal
down her Cheek, while I kept mine
down as well as I could. Then I went
on to the Plague, and my Father’s Heaviness
of Spirits; and his going forth and
never coming back, and my going in
quest of him, and all the Events of that
terrible Day, which I could not go over
without crying very heartily. She wept
too; yet cried, “Go on, go on!” So
then I got to Master <i>Blower</i>, and the
sleeping Watchman, and my getting into
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_255'>255</span>the House, and going from Room to
Room, and hearing him yawn,—which
made her laugh; though she cried again
when she heard of his praying, and of
his Sufferings that fearful Night and
many Days after. At the End of all, she
got up, put her Arms about my Neck,
and kissed me. “<i>Cherry</i>,” says she,
“you’re an excellent Creature!”—Just
then, a great Bell began to ring,—“That’s
the Prayer-bell!” says she.
“We will return to the Hall, my
Dear.”</p>
<p class='c013'>So we returned to the Hall, much more
at our Ease together than when we left
it. And there, standing in a Row, were
half a Dozen Men and Women Servants,
and the Table had Candles and a large
Bible on it. Master <i>Blower</i> read, and
then prayed: had I not been so tired,
I could have wished him to go on all
<span class="pagenum" id='Page_256'>256</span>Night! Then we dispersed to our several
Chambers; and I had so much to think
about that it seemed as though I should
never get to sleep: however, I did at
last.</p>
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<span class="pagenum" id='Page_257'>257</span>
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