Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 700

Becky stood aside, silenced if not convinced. I went out into the summer-scented air, and just pausing by the way to gather a rose for Nancy, passed on down the lane.

Not the slightest doubt as to whom I should see for a moment crossed my mind. My surprise was all the greater when I came in sight of a woman standing erect by the stile with her arms folded across her chest; who, a moment's glance told me, was not at all like Nancy – a tall thin woman, dressed in a long old-fashioned cloak, and what used to be termed a coal-scuttle bonnet.

Quite taken by surprise, I paused a moment to reconnoitre before advancing. She turned her face towards me, and although I did not immediately recognise who she was, I knew that I had seen her before.

'Do you wish to speak to me? I am Miss Haddon.'

'Yes; I know you are.'

Then it flashed upon me who she was.

'You are Mr Wentworth's housekeeper?'

'Yes.'

My heart sank with a foreboding of some evil, and for a moment I could not utter a word. Then screwing up my courage, I asked in as matter-of-course a tone as I could assume: 'He is quite well, I hope?'

'Nobody cares whether he's ill or well, I expect.'

'You are very much mistaken!' I replied, in some agitation. 'Every one who knows him would care a great deal! You ought to know that they would.'

I suppose my face and tone satisfied her that I was so far saying what I thought, though she only shifted her ground of offence in consequence.

'If he was ill he wouldn't be wanting people's pity.'

'But I hope – Is he ill?'

'Why should he be ill?' she rejoined angrily. Then endeavouring to command herself, she went on: 'But I haven't come here to talk about that. Ill or well, he doesn't know I've come here, and would be very angry if he did. You must please to recollect that. I should have been here before, but it took me two days, putting this and that together, to find out where you live. You are living with the ladies at the cottage down there?'

'Yes.'

'Well, that can't be much of a place; but I suppose situations are not so plentiful, and anything is better than' —

'What is it you have come to say to me?' I asked shortly.

'You are very masterful, and know how to get your way when you want it. You two are a match for each other; and I knew you would find that out. I knew no good would come of it when I let you get the better of me that day; and I'd sooner do anything than come to you now. You may be sure of that.'

'I know that for some foolish reason you took a prejudice against me; but being disliked before one is known, ought not to distress one, though I should prefer not being disliked.'

'If you're not hurt you needn't complain,' she replied, as though determined not to yield an inch.

'What have you come to say to me?' I repeated. 'I suppose you did not come all this way to remind me that you are prejudiced against me?'

'No.' She looked over the hedge and around in all directions before continuing; then said in a low voice: 'You thought my master's looked but a poor place for a gentleman born to live in, that day. I saw how sharp you was to notice, and how poor and shabby you thought it all was.'

'You are too ready to ascribe thoughts to me,' I replied.

'But you did now; didn't you? You can't say that you didn't think things looked a bit poor?'

'Mr Wentworth can afford to be more careless about appearances than can most people,' I said, not in the least comprehending her drift. 'It was all well enough for a bachelor's home.'

'Ay, well enough for a bachelor's home perhaps; but not for a married couple, eh?'

'Really!'

'Try to keep your temper for another five minutes, if you please, Miss. I know there's no love lost between us two; but I've come here because I've got something to say; and proud and masterful as you are, I know you are the sort to be trusted, and I'm going to trust you. I carried Master Robert in my arms when he was a baby, and I know him and love him more than any fine madam ever can. He was left very poor, and he worked very hard, and a better master or kinder gentleman – But that's not what I've come to say; nobody will ever know his goodness as I do' – jealously. 'He was poor, and I was poor, and I've had some ado to keep things together for him. But about three years ago my brother died, and things changed for me. He was a small farmer down in Gloucestershire, and everybody called him a miser; but it is not for me to complain of his scraping and saving, for he left all he had to me, and a nice little nest-egg it turned out to be. It's been down in my will for Master Robert from the first day I had it; and it has been 'cumulating ever since; not a penny of it have I ever touched. The pleasure has been to think that there it was all ready for him, though I was too proud to see how much he liked working his way up in the world, to tell him about it before he wanted it.'

'I am sincerely glad to know he has so faithful a friend,' I said, holding out my hand to her.

'Wait a bit, Miss; let me say my say. To-morrow morning that money will be made over to Master Robert, and he will be told that he'll never see no more of me if he won't take it; and the lawyer he says it brings in pretty nigh ninety pounds a year, now!' Pausing a moment to give me time to recover that.

What could I say? Growing hot and confused and pained as her meaning began to dawn upon me, I murmured: 'It is a good sum – and' —

'And that's not all,' she said eagerly. 'You must remember Master Robert is getting on now and being talked about. I've brought this paper down with me that you may see his name in it for yourself;' taking a newspaper from her pocket, hastily unfolding it and pointing out with trembling finger a short but eulogistic notice of a pamphlet by R. Wentworth. 'There's no gainsaying that, you know.' Slipping it into her pocket again, she earnestly went on, laying her hand upon my arm, and seeing only him in her increased anxiety: 'I don't say that prudence isn't a good thing; I'm not for foolish marriages when there's nothing to depend on; but there's the ninety pounds a year, and what he earns, besides a house to live in, and my services for nothing; and master says my bark's worse than my bite; bless you, his wife's no call to be afraid of me!'

'Hush, pray hush!' I murmured, seeing all her meaning now. 'Do you think any one who loved Robert Wentworth would care about all that!'

'Then it is that he isn't loved? God help him!' The cold, hard, set look came into her face again – though she would seem cold and hard now to me never again – and she folded her cloak about her.

'Will you tell me how Mr Wentworth is?' I could not help asking.

'Oh, he's well enough; nobody need think he's going to die of a broken heart. And you must please to remember that he knows nothing about my coming here, ma'am. And perhaps it isn't too much to ask you not to mention what a foolish old woman has been talking about?'

'I should be as much grieved as you could possibly be for him to know anything about it, Hester,' I replied in all sincerity.

'Then I wish you good-night, Miss.'

'Will not you shake hands with me?'

'I'm never much for shaking hands, Miss, thank you' – stiffly, both hands folded in her cloak.

'Not for your master's sake? Mr Wentworth is my friend, and I think he would be sorry' —

'He can't be sorry about what he doesn't know.'

'Well, you cannot prevent my respecting you, and that I shall do as long as I live.'

She went on down the lane, and I turned away, burying my face in my hands. Could I ever forgive myself!

Something – for a moment I thought it was a falling leaf – lightly touched my arm, and looking round I saw a large bony hand put from behind. I clasped it without a word; without a word it was withdrawn, and I presently found myself alone. I turned and walked slowly and thoughtfully homewards. How completely though unconsciously she had shewn me her motive for seeking an interview with me! She had divined that her master had had a disappointment, and must have drawn the conclusion that he had been refused solely from prudential motives. Consequently she had come for the purpose of giving me a better knowledge of his prospects than he himself could have done, and was ready for his sake to try to overcome her prejudice against me. Nevertheless, my interview with old Hester tended to make me more rather than less anxious respecting her master.

SEA-EGGS

The visitor to the sea-side must frequently in his rambles along the beach have picked up specimens of the curious animals which are popularly known as 'Sea-eggs' and 'Sea-urchins.' The former name is applied to these creatures when they are found cast upon the shore and present the appearance of rounded or ball-shaped objects, each inclosed within a hard but brittle limy shell. Whilst the term 'urchin' is given to the same objects when they are seen in their more natural and perfect state, and when the outside of the shell literally bristles with spines. The name 'urchin,' in fact originally applied to the hedgehog, has been extended to denominate the sea-eggs, from their presenting the spiny appearance so familiarly seen in the common tenant of our woods and hedgerows. Thus the sea-egg is the sea-urchin with its spines detached and rubbed off by the unkindly force of the waves; and the animal thus popularly designated is the Echinus of the zoologist, and belongs to the large class of animals of which the Star-fishes are well-known representatives.

The entire history of the sea-egg is of so curious a nature that the most casual reader may well feel interested in the account of the animal's present and past life; whilst the feeling of mere curiosity to know something of one of the most 'common objects of the shore,' should prompt every sea-side visitor to make the closer acquaintance of the Echinus.

Suppose that we begin our examination by looking at the hard case or 'shell' in which the soft parts of the animal are inclosed. We find on referring to the development of the animal, that this 'shell' actually represents the hardened skin of the animal, and that viewed in this light, it closely corresponds to the shell of the lobster or crab. The shell is flattened at each pole, and we can readily perceive that it is composed of rows of little limy plates, which are disposed in a regular manner from pole to pole, or after the fashion of the meridian lines on a globe. Counting the series of plates, we find the shell to be composed of twenty rows; but we may also perceive a difference between certain of the plates of which the rows are composed. Thus we find two adjoining rows of plates, which are perforated with holes. The next two rows are not so perforated; whilst the third two rows possess holes like the first rows. We may, in fact, proceed round the shell, and come back to the point at which our examination began, with the result of finding that we may group the whole of the twenty rows of plates of this curious limy box into two sets – those with holes and those without; and we may further discover that there are five double rows of perforated plates, and that these alternate with other five double rows which do not possess holes.