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CHAPTER XXX
ANNIE GETS THE BEST OF IT
I had long outgrown unwholesome feeling as to my
father's death, and so had Annie; though Lizzie (who
must have loved him least) still entertained some evil
will, and longing for a punishment. Therefore I was
surprised (and indeed, startled would not be too much
to say, the moon being somewhat fleecy), to see our
Annie sitting there as motionless as the tombstone, and
with all her best fallals upon her, after stowing away
the dishes.
My nerves, however, are good and strong, except at
least in love matters, wherein they always fail me, and
when I meet with witches; and therefore I went up to
Annie, although she looked so white and pure; for I had
seen her before with those things on, and it struck me
who she was.
"What are you doing here, Annie?" I inquired rather
sternly, being vexed with her for having gone so very
near to frighten me.
"Nothing at all," said our Annie shortly. And indeed
it was truth enough for a woman. Not that I dare to
believe that women are such liars as men say; only that
I mean they often see things round the corner, and know
not which is which of it. And indeed I never have
known a woman (though right enough in their meaning)
purely and perfectly true and transparent, except only
my Lorna; and even so, I might not have loved her, if
she had been ugly.
'Why, how so?' said I; 'Miss Annie, what business have
you here, doing nothing at this time of night? And
leaving me with all the trouble to entertain our
guests!'
'You seem not to me to be doing it, John,' Annie
answered softly; 'what business have you here doing
nothing, at this time of night?'
I was taken so aback with this, and the extreme
impertinence of it, from a mere young girl like Annie,
that I turned round to march away and have nothing more
to say to her. But she jumped up, and caught me by the
hand, and threw herself upon my bosom, with her face
all wet with tears.
'Oh, John, I will tell you. I will tell you. Only
don't be angry, John.'
'Angry! no indeed,' said I; 'what right have I to be
angry with you, because you have your secrets? Every
chit of a girl thinks now that she has a right to her
secrets.'
'And you have none of your own, John; of course you
have none of your own? All your going out at night--'
'We will not quarrel here, poor Annie,' I answered,
with some loftiness; 'there are many things upon my
mind, which girls can have no notion of.'
'And so there are upon mine, John. Oh, John, I will
tell you everything, if you will look at me kindly, and
promise to forgive me. Oh, I am so miserable!'
Now this, though she was behaving so badly, moved me
much towards her; especially as I longed to know what
she had to tell me. Therefore I allowed her to coax
me, and to kiss me, and to lead me away a little, as
far as the old yew-tree; for she would not tell me
where she was.
But even in the shadow there, she was very long before
beginning, and seemed to have two minds about it, or
rather perhaps a dozen; and she laid her cheek against
the tree, and sobbed till it was pitiful; and I knew
what mother would say to her for spoiling her best
frock so.
'Now will you stop?' I said at last, harder than I
meant it, for I knew that she would go on all night, if
any one encouraged her: and though not well acquainted
with women, I understood my sisters; or else I must be
a born fool--except, of course, that I never professed
to understand Eliza.
'Yes, I will stop,' said Annie, panting; 'you are very
hard on me, John; but I know you mean it for the best.
If somebody else--I am sure I don't know who, and have
no right to know, no doubt, but she must be a wicked
thing--if somebody else had been taken so with a pain
all round the heart, John, and no power of telling it,
perhaps you would have coaxed, and kissed her, and come
a little nearer, and made opportunity to be very
loving.'
Now this was so exactly what I had tried to do to
Lorna, that my breath was almost taken away at Annie's
so describing it. For a while I could not say a word,
but wondered if she were a witch, which had never been
in our family: and then, all of a sudden, I saw the way
to beat her, with the devil at my elbow.
'From your knowledge of these things, Annie, you must
have had them done to you. I demand to know this very
moment who has taken such liberties.'
'Then, John, you shall never know, if you ask in that
manner. Besides, it was no liberty in the least at
all, Cousins have a right to do things--and when they
are one's godfather--' Here Annie stopped quite
suddenly having so betrayed herself; but met me in the
full moonlight, being resolved to face it out, with a
good face put upon it.
'Alas, I feared it would come to this,' I answered very
sadly; 'I know he has been here many a time, without
showing himself to me. There is nothing meaner than
for a man to sneak, and steal a young maid's heart,
without her people knowing it.'
'You are not doing anything of that sort yourself then,
dear John, are you?'
'Only a common highwayman!' I answered, without heeding
her; 'a man without an acre of his own, and liable to
hang upon any common, and no other right of common over
it--'
'John,' said my sister, 'are the Doones privileged not
to be hanged upon common land?'
At this I was so thunderstruck, that I leaped in the
air like a shot rabbit, and rushed as hard as I could
through the gate and across the yard, and back into the
kitchen; and there I asked Farmer Nicholas Snowe to
give me some tobacco, and to lend me a spare pipe.
This he did with a grateful manner, being now some
five-fourths gone; and so I smoked the very first pipe
that ever had entered my lips till then; and beyond a
doubt it did me good, and spread my heart at leisure.
Meanwhile the reapers were mostly gone, to be up
betimes in the morning; and some were led by their
wives; and some had to lead their wives themselves,
according to the capacity of man and wife respectively.
But Betty was as lively as ever, bustling about with
every one, and looking out for the chance of groats,
which the better off might be free with. And over the
kneading-pan next day, she dropped three and sixpence
out of her pocket; and Lizzie could not tell for her
life how much more might have been in it.
Now by this time I had almost finished smoking that
pipe of tobacco, and wondering at myself for having so
despised it hitherto, and making up my mind to have
another trial to-morrow night, it began to occur to me
that although dear Annie had behaved so very badly and
rudely, and almost taken my breath away with the
suddenness of her allusion, yet it was not kind of me
to leave her out there at that time of night, all
alone, and in such distress. Any of the reapers going
home might be gotten so far beyond fear of ghosts as to
venture into the churchyard; and although they would
know a great deal better than to insult a sister of
mine when sober, there was no telling what they might
do in their present state of rejoicing. Moreover, it
was only right that I should learn, for Lorna's sake,
how far Annie, or any one else, had penetrated our
secret.
Therefore, I went forth at once, bearing my pipe in a
skilful manner, as I had seen Farmer Nicholas do; and
marking, with a new kind of pleasure, how the rings and
wreaths of smoke hovered and fluttered in the
moonlight, like a lark upon his carol. Poor Annie was
gone back again to our father's grave, and there she
sat upon the turf, sobbing very gently, and not wishing
to trouble any one. So I raised her tenderly, and made
much of her, and consoled her, for I could not scold
her there; and perhaps after all she was not to be
blamed so much as Tom Faggus himself was. Annie was
very grateful to me, and kissed me many times, and
begged my pardon ever so often for her rudeness to me.
And then having gone so far with it, and finding me so
complaisant, she must needs try to go a little further,
and to lead me away from her own affairs, and into mine
concerning Lorna. But although it was clever enough of
her she was not deep enough for me there; and I soon
discovered that she knew nothing, not even the name of
my darling; but only suspected from things she had
seen, and put together like a woman. Upon this I
brought her back again to Tom Faggus and his doings.
'My poor Annie, have you really promised him to be his
wife?'
'Then after all you have no reason, John, no particular
reason, I mean, for slighting poor Sally Snowe so?'
'Without even asking mother or me! Oh, Annie, it was
wrong of you!'
'But, darling, you know that mother wishes you so much
to marry Sally; and I am sure you could have her
to-morrow. She dotes on the very ground--'
'I dare say he tells you that, Annie, that he dotes on
the ground you walk upon--but did you believe him,
child?'
'You may believe me, I assure you, John, and half the
farm to be settled upon her, after the old man's time;
and though she gives herself little airs, it is only
done to entice you; she has the very best hand in the
dairy John, and the lightest at a turn-over cake--'
'Now, Annie, don't talk nonsense so. I wish just to
know the truth about you and Tom Faggus. Do you mean
to marry him?'
'I to marry before my brother, and leave him with none
to take care of him! Who can do him a red deer collop,
except Sally herself, as I can? Come home, dear, at
once, and I will do you one; for you never ate a morsel
of supper, with all the people you had to attend upon.'
This was true enough; and seeing no chance of anything
more than cross questions and crooked purposes, at
which a girl was sure to beat me, I even allowed her to
lead me home, with the thoughts of the collop
uppermost. But I never counted upon being beaten so
thoroughly as I was; for knowing me now to be off my
guard, the young hussy stopped at the farmyard gate, as
if with a brier entangling her, and while I was
stooping to take it away, she looked me full in the
face by the moonlight, and jerked out quite suddenly,--
'Can your love do a collop, John?'
'No, I should hope not,' I answered rashly; 'she is not
a mere cook-maid I should hope.'
'She is not half so pretty as Sally Snowe; I will
answer for that,' said Annie.
'She is ten thousand times as pretty as ten thousand
Sally Snowes,' I replied with great indignation.
'Oh, but look at Sally's eyes!' cried my sister
rapturously.
'Look at Lorna Doone's,' said I; 'and you would never
look again at Sally's.'
'Oh Lorna Doone. Lorna Doone!' exclaimed our Annie
half-frightened, yet clapping her hands with triumph,
at having found me out so: 'Lorna Doone is the lovely
maiden, who has stolen poor somebody's heart so. Ah, I
shall remember it; because it is so queer a name. But
stop, I had better write it down. Lend me your hat,
poor boy, to write on.'
'I have a great mind to lend you a box on the ear,' I
answered her in my vexation, 'and I would, if you had
not been crying so, you sly good-for-nothing baggage.
As it is, I shall keep it for Master Faggus, and add
interest for keeping.'
'Oh no, John; oh no, John,' she begged me earnestly,
being sobered in a moment. 'Your hand is so terribly
heavy, John; and he never would forgive you; although
he is so good-hearted, he cannot put up with an insult.
Promise me, dear John, that you will not strike him;
and I will promise you faithfully to keep your secret,
even from mother, and even from Cousin Tom himself.'
'And from Lizzie; most of all, from Lizzie,' I answered
very eagerly, knowing too well which of my relations
would be hardest with me.
'Of course from little Lizzie,' said Annie, with some
contempt; 'a young thing like her cannot be kept too
long, in my opinion, from the knowledge of such
subjects. And besides, I should be very sorry if
Lizzie had the right to know your secrets, as I have,
dearest John. Not a soul shall be the wiser for your
having trusted me, John; although I shall be very
wretched when you are late away at night, among those
dreadful people.'
'Well,' I replied, 'it is no use crying over spilt milk
Annie. You have my secret, and I have yours; and I
scarcely know which of the two is likely to have the
worst time of it, when it comes to mother's ears. I
could put up with perpetual scolding but not with
mother's sad silence.'
'That is exactly how I feel, John.' and as Annie said
it she brightened up, and her soft eyes shone upon me;
'but now I shall be much happier, dear; because I shall
try to help you. No doubt the young lady deserves it,
John. She is not after the farm, I hope?'
'She!' I exclaimed; and that was enough, there was so
much scorn in my voice and face.
'Then, I am sure, I am very glad,' Annie always made
the best of things; 'for I do believe that Sally Snowe
has taken a fancy to our dairy-place, and the pattern
of our cream-pans; and she asked so much about our
meadows, and the colour of the milk--'
'Then, after all, you were right, dear Annie; it is the
ground she dotes upon.'
'And the things that walk upon it,' she answered me
with another kiss; 'Sally has taken a wonderful fancy
to our best cow, "Nipple-pins." But she never shall
have her now; what a consolation!'
We entered the house quite gently thus, and found
Farmer Nicholas Snowe asleep, little dreaming how his
plans had been overset between us. And then Annie said
to me very slyly, between a smile and a blush,--
'Don't you wish Lorna Doone was here, John, in the
parlour along with mother; instead of those two
fashionable milkmaids, as Uncle Ben will call them, and
poor stupid Mistress Kebby?'
'That indeed I do, Annie. I must kiss you for only
thinking of it. Dear me, it seems as if you had known
all about us for a twelvemonth.'
'She loves you, with all her heart, John. No doubt
about that of course.' And Annie looked up at me, as
much as to say she would like to know who could help
it.
'That's the very thing she won't do,' said I, knowing
that Annie would love me all the more for it, 'she is
only beginning to like me, Annie; and as for loving,
she is so young that she only loves her grandfather.
But I hope she will come to it by-and-by.'
'Of course she must,' replied my sister, 'it will be
impossible for her to help it.'
'Ah well! I don't know,' for I wanted more assurance of
it. 'Maidens are such wondrous things!''
'Not a bit of it,' said Annie, casting her bright eyes
downwards: 'love is as simple as milking, when people
know how to do it. But you must not let her alone too
long; that is my advice to you. What a simpleton you
must have been not to tell me long ago. I would have
made Lorna wild about you, long before this time,
Johnny. But now you go into the parlour, dear, while I
do your collop. Faith Snowe is not come, but Polly and
Sally. Sally has made up her mind to conquer you this
very blessed evening, John. Only look what a thing of
a scarf she has on; I should be quite ashamed to wear
it. But you won't strike poor Tom, will you?'
'Not I, my darling, for your sweet sake.'
And so dear Annie, having grown quite brave, gave me a
little push into the parlour, where I was quite abashed
to enter after all I had heard about Sally. And I made
up my mind to examine her well, and try a little
courting with her, if she should lead me on, that I
might be in practice for Lorna. But when I perceived
how grandly and richly both the young damsels were
apparelled; and how, in their curtseys to me, they
retreated, as if I were making up to them, in a way
they had learned from Exeter; and how they began to
talk of the Court, as if they had been there all their
lives, and the latest mode of the Duchess of this, and
the profile of the Countess of that, and the last good
saying of my Lord something; instead of butter, and
cream, and eggs, and things which they understood; I
knew there must be somebody in the room besides Jasper
Kebby to talk at.
And so there was; for behind the curtain drawn across
the window-seat no less a man than Uncle Ben was
sitting half asleep and weary; and by his side a little
girl very quiet and very watchful. My mother led me
to Uncle Ben, and he took my hand without rising,
muttering something not over-polite, about my being
bigger than ever. I asked him heartily how he was, and
he said, 'Well enough, for that matter; but none the
better for the noise you great clods have been making.'
'I am sorry if we have disturbed you, sir,' I answered
very civilly; 'but I knew not that you were here even;
and you must allow for harvest time.'
'So it seems,' he replied; 'and allow a great deal,
including waste and drunkenness. Now (if you can see
so small a thing, after emptying flagons much larger)
this is my granddaughter, and my heiress'--here he
glanced at mother--'my heiress, little Ruth Huckaback.'
'I am very glad to see you, Ruth,' I answered, offering
her my hand, which she seemed afraid to take, 'welcome
to Plover's Barrows, my good cousin Ruth.'
However, my good cousin Ruth only arose, and made me a
curtsey, and lifted her great brown eyes at me, more in
fear, as I thought, than kinship. And if ever any one
looked unlike the heiress to great property, it was the
little girl before me.
'Come out to the kitchen, dear, and let me chuck you to
the ceiling,' I said, just to encourage her; 'I always
do it to little girls; and then they can see the hams
and bacon.' But Uncle Reuben burst out laughing; and
Ruth turned away with a deep rich colour.
'Do you know how old she is, you numskull?' said Uncle
Ben, in his dryest drawl; 'she was seventeen last July,
sir.'
'On the first of July, grandfather,' Ruth whispered,
with her back still to me; 'but many people will not
believe it.'
Here mother came up to my rescue, as she always loved
to do; and she said, 'If my son may not dance Miss
Ruth, at any rate he may dance with her. We have only
been waiting for you, dear John, to have a little
harvest dance, with the kitchen door thrown open. You
take Ruth; Uncle Ben take Sally; Master Debby pair off
with Polly; and neighbour Nicholas will be good enough,
if I can awake him, to stand up with fair Mistress
Kebby. Lizzie will play us the virginal. Won't you,
Lizzie dear?'
'But who is to dance with you, madam?' Uncle Ben asked,
very politely. 'I think you must rearrange your
figure. I have not danced for a score of years; and I
will not dance now, while the mistress and the owner of
the harvest sits aside neglected.'
'Nay, Master Huckaback,' cried Sally Snowe, with a
saucy toss of her hair; 'Mistress Ridd is too kind a
great deal, in handing you over to me. You take her;
and I will fetch Annie to be my partner this evening.
I like dancing very much better with girls, for they
never squeeze and rumple one. Oh, it is so much
nicer!'
'Have no fear for me, my dears,' our mother answered
smiling: 'Parson Bowden promised to come back again; I
expect him every minute; and he intends to lead me off,
and to bring a partner for Annie too, a very pretty
young gentleman. Now begin; and I will join you.'
There was no disobeying her, without rudeness; and
indeed the girls' feet were already jigging; and Lizzie
giving herself wonderful airs with a roll of learned
music; and even while Annie was doing my collop, her
pretty round instep was arching itself, as I could see
from the parlour-door. So I took little Ruth, and I
spun her around, as the sound of the music came lively
and ringing; and after us came all the rest with much
laughter, begging me not to jump over her; and anon my
grave partner began to smile sweetly, and look up at me
with the brightest of eyes, and drop me the prettiest
curtseys; till I thought what a great stupe I must have
been to dream of putting her in the cheese-rack. But
one thing I could not at all understand; why mother,
who used to do all in her power to throw me across
Sally Snowe, should now do the very opposite; for she
would not allow me one moment with Sally, not even to
cross in the dance, or whisper, or go anywhere near a
corner (which as I said, I intended to do, just by way
of practice), while she kept me, all the evening, as
close as possible with Ruth Huckaback, and came up and
praised me so to Ruth, times and again, that I declare
I was quite ashamed. Although of course I knew that I
deserved it all, but I could not well say that.
Then Annie came sailing down the dance, with her
beautiful hair flowing round her; the lightest figure
in all the room, and the sweetest, and the loveliest.
She was blushing, with her fair cheeks red beneath her
dear blue eyes, as she met my glance of surprise and
grief at the partner she was leaning on. It was Squire
Marwood de Whichehalse. I would sooner have seen her
with Tom Faggus, as indeed I had expected, when I heard
of Parson Bowden. And to me it seemed that she had no
right to be dancing so with any other; and to this
effect I contrived to whisper; but she only said, 'See
to yourself, John. No, but let us both enjoy
ourselves. You are not dancing with Lorna, John. But
you seem uncommonly happy.'
'Tush,' I said; 'could I flip about so, if I had my
love with me?'
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