He had disposed of his dwelling house and taken a small cottage in the country, a few miles from town. He had been busied all day in sending out furniture. The new establishment required few articles, and those of the simplest kind. All the splendid furniture of his late residence had been sold excepting his wife’s Harp. That, he said, was too closely associated with the idea of herself – it belonged to the little story of their loves – for some of the sweetest moments of their courtship were those when he had leant over that instrument and listened to the melting tones of her voice. – I could not but smile at this instance of romantic gallantry in a doting husband.
He was now going out to the cottage, where his wife had been all day, superintending its arrangement. My feelings had become strongly interested in the progress of this family story and as it was a fine evening I offered to accompany him.
He was wearied with the fatigues of the day, and as we walked out, fell into a fit of gloomy musing.
‘Poor Mary!’ at length broke with a heavy sigh from his lips.
‘And what of her,’ asked I, ‘has any thing happened to her?’
‘What,’ said he, darting an impatient glance, ‘is it nothing to be reduced to this paltry situation – to be caged in a miserable cottage – to be obliged to toil almost in the menial concerns of her wretched habitation?’
‘Has she then repined at the change?’
‘Repined! – she has been nothing but sweetness and good humour. Indeed she seems in better spirits than I have ever known her – she has been to me all love and tenderness and comfort!’
‘Admirable girl!’ exclaimed I. ‘You call yourself poor my friend; you never were so rich – you never knew the boundless treasures of excellence you possessed in that woman.’
‘Oh, but my friend – if this first meeting at the cottage were over – I think I could then be comfortable. But this is her first day of real experience. She has been introduced into our humble dwelling. She has been employed all day in arranging its miserable equipments. She has for the first time known the fatigues of domestic employment – She has for the first time looked around her on a home destitute of every thing elegant, – almost of every thing convenient, and may now be sitting down exhausted and spiritless, brooding over a prospect of future poverty.’
There was a degree of probability in this picture that I could not gainsay – so we walked on in silence.
After turning from the main road up a narrow lane so thickly shaded by forest trees as to give it a complete air of seclusion, we came in sight of the cottage. It was humble enough in its appearance for the most pastoral poet; and yet it had a pleasing rural look. A wild vine had over run one end with a profusion of foliage – a few trees threw their branches gracefully over it, and I observed several pots of flowers tastefully disposed about the door and on the grass plot in front. A small wicket gate opened upon a foot path that wound through some shrubbery to the door. Just as we approached we heard the sound of music. – Leslie grasped my arm – we paused and listened. It was Mary’s voice singing, in a style of the most touching simplicity, a little air of which her husband was peculiarly fond.
I felt Leslie’s hand tremble on my arm. He stepped forward to hear more distinctly – His step made a noise on the gravel walk – a bright beautiful face glanced out at the window and vanished – a light footstep was heard, and Mary came tripping forth to meet us. She was in a pretty, rural dress of white; a few wild flowers were twisted in her fine hair; a fresh bloom was on her cheek; her whole countenance beamed with smiles – I had never seen her look so lovely.
‘My dear George,’ cried she, ‘I am so glad you are come – I’ve been watching and watching for you; and running down the lane, and looking out for you. I’ve set out a table under a beautiful tree behind the cottage – and I’ve been gathering some of the most delicious strawberries, for I know you are fond of them – and we have such excellent cream – and every thing is so sweet and still here – Oh!’ said she, putting her arm within his, and looking up brightly in his face – ‘oh, we shall be so happy!’
Poor Leslie was overcome – He caught her to his bosom – he folded his arms round her – he kissed her again and again – he could not speak, but the tears gushed into his eyes – And he has often assured me that though the world has since gone prosperously with him, and his life has, indeed, been a happy one; yet never has he experienced a moment of more exquisite felicity.
London Antiques
– I do walk
Methinks like Guido Vaux, with my dark lanthorn,
Stealing to set the town o’ fire; i’ th’ country
I should be taken for William o’ the Wisp,
Or Robin Goodfellow.
FLETCHER.
I am somewhat of an antiquity hunter and am fond of exploring London in quest of the reliques of old times. These are principally to be found in the depths of the city, swallowed up and almost lost in a wilderness of brick and mortar; but deriving poetical and romantic interest from the commonplace prosaic world around them. I was struck with an instance of the kind in the course of a recent summer ramble into the city; for the city is only to be explored to advantage in summer time; when free from the smoke and fog, and rain and mud of winter. I had been buffeting for some time against the current of population setting through Fleet Street. The warm weather had unstrung my nerves and made me sensitive to every jar and jostle and discordant sound. The flesh was weary, the spirit faint and I was getting out of humor with the bustling busy throng through which I had to struggle, when in a fit of desperation I tore my way through the crowd, plunged into a bye lane, and after passing through several obscure nooks and angles emerged into a quaint and quiet court with a grass plot in the centre overhung by elms, and kept perpetually fresh and green by a fountain with its sparkling jet of water. A student with book in hand was seated on a stone bench, partly reading, partly meditating on the movements of two or three trim nursery maids with their infant charges.
I was like an Arab who had suddenly come upon an oasis amid the panting sterility of the desert. By degrees the quiet and coolness of the place soothed my nerves and refreshed my spirit. I pursued my walk and came, hard by, to a very ancient chapel with a low browed saxon portal of massive and rich architecture.
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