'The thread is bad--everything is bad--I am so tired of it all!' And she put down her work, and hastily left the room. I do not suppose that in all her life Phillis had ever shown so much temper before. In many a family the tone, the manner, would not have been noticed; but here it fell with a sharp surprise upon the sweet, calm atmosphere of home. The minister put down ruler and book, and pushed his spectacles up to his forehead.
The mother looked distressed for a moment, and then smoothed her features and said in an explanatory tone,--'It's the weather, I think. Some people feel it different to others. It always brings on a headache with me.' She got up to follow her daughter, but half-way to the door she thought better of it, and came back to her seat. Good mother! she hoped the better to conceal the unusual spirt of temper, by pretending not to take much notice of it. 'Go on, minister,' she said; 'it is very interesting what you are reading about, and when I don't quite understand it, I like the sound of your voice.' So he went on, but languidly and irregularly, and beat no more time with his ruler to any Latin lines. When the dusk came on, early that July night because of the cloudy sky, Phillis came softly back, making as though nothing had happened. She took up her work, but it was too dark to do many stitches; and she dropped it soon. Then I saw how her hand stole into her mother's, and how this latter fondled it with quiet little caresses) while the minister, as fully aware as I was of this tender pantomime, went on talking in a happier tone of voice about things as uninteresting to him, at the time, I very believe, as they were to me; and that is saying a good deal, and shows how much more real what was passing before him was, even to a farmer, than the agricultural customs of the ancients.
I remember one thing more,--an attack which Betty the servant made upon me one day as I came in through the kitchen where she was churning) and stopped to ask her for a drink of buttermilk.
'I say, cousin Paul,' (she had adopted the family habit of addressing me generally as cousin Paul, and always speaking of me in that form,) 'something's amiss with our Phillis, and I reckon you've a good guess what it is. She's not one to take up wi' such as you,' (not complimentary, but that Betty never was, even to those for whom she felt the highest respect,) 'but I'd as lief yon Holdsworth had never come near us. So there you've a bit o' my mind.'
And a very unsatisfactory bit it was. I did not know what to answer to the glimpse at the real state of the case implied in the shrewd woman's speech; so I tried to put her off by assuming surprise at her first assertion.
'Amiss with Phillis! I should like to know why you think anything is wrong with her. She looks as blooming as any one can do.'
'Poor lad! you're but a big child after all; and you've likely never heared of a fever-flush. But you know better nor that, my fine fellow! so don't think for to put me off wi' blooms and blossoms and such-like talk. What makes her walk about for hours and hours o' nights when she used to be abed and asleep? I sleep next room to her, and hear her plain as can be. What makes her come in panting and ready to drop into that chair,'--nodding to one close to the door,-- 'and it's "Oh! Betty, some water, please"?
That's the way she comes in now, when she used to come back as fresh and bright as she went out. If yon friend o' yours has played her false, he's a deal for t' answer for; she's a lass who's as sweet and as sound as a nut, and the very apple of her father's eye, and of her mother's too' only wi' her she ranks second to th' minister. You'll have to look after yon chap, for I, for one, will stand no wrong to our Phillis.'
What was I to do, or to say? I wanted to justify Holdsworth, to keep Phillis's secret, and to pacify the woman all in the same breath. I did not take the best course, I'm afraid.
'I don't believe Holdsworth ever spoke a word of--of love to her in all his life. I'm sure he didn't.'
'Aye. aye! but there's eyes, and there's hands, as well as tongues; and a man has two o' th' one and but one o' t'other.'
'And she's so young; do you suppose her parents would not have seen it?'
'Well! if you axe me that, I'll say out boldly, "No". They've called her "the child" so long--"the child" is always their name for her when they talk on her between themselves, as if never anybody else had a ewe-lamb before them--that she's grown up to be a woman under their very eyes, and they look on her still as if she were in her long clothes. And you ne'er heard on a man falling in love wi' a babby in long clothes!'
'No!' said I, half laughing. But she went on as grave as a judge.
'Aye! you see you'll laugh at the bare thought on it--and I'll be bound th' minister, though he's not a laughing man, would ha' sniggled at th' notion of falling in love wi' the child. Where's Holdsworth off to?'
'Canada,' said I, shortly.
'Canada here, Canada there,' she replied, testily. 'Tell me how far he's off, instead of giving me your gibberish. Is he a two days' journey away? or a three? or a week?'
'He's ever so far off--three weeks at the least,' cried I in despair.
'And he's either married, or just going to be. So there.' I expected a fresh burst of anger. But no; the matter was too serious. Betty sate down, and kept silence for a minute or two. She looked so miserable and downcast, that I could not help going on, and taking her a little into my confidence.
'It is quite true what I said. I know he never spoke a word to her.
I think he liked her, but it's all over now. The best thing we can do--the best and kindest for her--and I know you love her, Betty--'
'I nursed her in my arms; I gave her little brother his last taste o' earthly food,' said Betty) putting her apron up to her eyes.
'Well! don't let us show her we guess that she is grieving; she'll get over it the sooner. Her father and mother don't even guess at it, and we must make as if we didn't. It's too late now to do anything else.'
