‘Glass be——; here, take a
mouthful.’
And she popped it between her lips; and Mrs. Mack
was refreshed and her spirit revived within her.
IN WHICH PALE HECATE VISITS THE MILLS, AND CHARLES
NUTTER, ESQ., ORDERS TEA.
Poor Mrs. Nutter, I have an honest regard for her
memory. If she was scant of brains, she was also
devoid of guile—giggle and raspberry-jam
were the leading traits of her character. And
though she was slow to believe ill-natured stories,
and made, in general, a horrid jumble when she essayed
to relate news, except of the most elementary sort;
and used to forget genealogies, and to confuse lawsuits
and other family feuds, and would have made a most
unsatisfactory witness upon any topic on earth, yet
she was a ready sympathiser, and a restless but purblind
matchmaker—always suggesting or suspecting
little romances, and always amazed when the eclaircissement
came off. Excellent for condoling—better
still for rejoicing—she would, on hearing
of a surprising good match, or an unexpected son and
heir, or a pleasantly-timed legacy, go off like a
mild little peal of joy-bells, and keep ringing up
and down and zig-zag, and to and again, in all sorts
of irregular roulades, without stopping, the whole
day long, with ’Well, to be sure.’
‘Upon my conscience, now, I scarce can believe
it.’ ‘An’ isn’t it pleasant,
though.’ ’Oh! the creatures—but
it was badly wanted!’ ‘Dear knows—but
I’m glad—ha, ha, ha,’ and so
on. A train of reflection and rejoicing not easily
exhausted, and readily, by simple transposition, maintainable
for an indefinite period. And people, when good
news came, used to say, ‘Sally Nutter will be
glad to hear that;’ and though she had not a
great deal of sense, and her conversation was made
up principally of interjections, assisted by little
gestures, and wonderful expressions of face; and though,
when analysed it was not much, yet she made a cheerful
noise, and her company was liked; and her friendly
little gesticulation, and her turning up of the eyes,
and her smiles and sighs, and her ‘whisht a
bit,’ and her ‘faith and troth now,’
and ‘whisper,’ and all the rest of her
little budget of idiomatic expletives, made the people
somehow, along with her sterling qualities, fonder
of her than perhaps, having her always at hand, they
were quite aware.
So they both entered the vehicle, which jingled and
rattled so incessantly and so loud that connected
talk was quite out of the question, and Mrs. Macnamara
was glad ’twas so; and she could not help observing
there was something more than the ordinary pale cast
of devilment in Mary Matchwell’s face—something,
she thought, almost frightful, and which tempted her
to believe in her necromantic faculty.
So they reached Nutter’s house, at the mills,
a sober, gray-fronted mansion, darkened with tall
trees, and in went Mrs. Mack. Little Mrs. Nutter
received her in a sort of transport of eagerness, giggle,
and curiosity.
