 | CHAPTER V.
THE JUDGE'S MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. The Wetherel affair |  |
5. CHAPTER V.
THE JUDGE'S MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
THE catechism concerning Edward Wetherel did not come hastily. The
old Judge, following up the matter in his own deliberate fashion, as if
to give himself time for meditation and prayer over it, did not speak of the
young man to Nestoria for a day or two. Perhaps his intent was that she
should learn to look upon him as a friend before she was summoned to accept
him as a mentor. A dietatorial soul by nature, and capable of being very
grimly authoritative under a consciousness of duty, so that he was an absolute
terror to all evil-doers whom circumstances placed under his thumb, he had at
the same time a most mellow streak of considerate, old-fashioned courtesy in
him, and knew how to be gentleness itself with the gentle.
“A Christian,” he was accustomed to say, “ought to be the most perfect
gentleman on earth;” and in his secret heart he could not help feeling that this
rule was especially binding on Wetherels. All his ancestors, as far back as
the days of the Mayflower, had been not only Puritans, but Puritans of good
social position and of high breeding. In spite of his earnest yearnings after a
humble spirit, he was proud of his descent from such men; and because of
this pride he considered himself bound to emulate their graces and virtues.
Furthermore, his judicial mind, partly the gift of nature and partly the result
of a long habit of examining both sides of weighty questions, enabled or rather
forced him to be deliberate, considerate, and delicate even in matters which
concerned his strong prejudices.
Thus for two days the missionary's daughter had an opportunity to study in
perfect peace the ordinary life of this household. Had she belonged to the
class of persons whom Judge Wetherel stigmatized as worldlings (looking
upon them as more guilty and pitiable than the outright heathen), she would
have found that life either dismally irksome or whimsically amusing. When
she went to bed she discovered on her dressing table a little congregation of
the publications of the American Tract Society, with a Bible officiating as clergyman,
and a hymn-book as chorister; and a tour of inspection through the
house would have revealed the fact that every other dressing-table, gentle or
simple, was provided with a similar library; so that, if devotional books have
any soporific gift, the Judge's retainers and guests had no excuse for lying
awake. Indeed, Edward Wetherel was accustomed to say in his light and fabulous
manner that he could not lodge at his uncle's without catching cold, because
these composing volumes always caused him to snooze off in his chair
and pass the night without sufficient covering.
At half-past six in the morning, as virtuously brisk and punctual as the
early bird that catches the worm, a servant maid skipped through the house,
and, applying her knuckles to every bedroom door, pecked up the slumberer
within. If Alice or her mother—both dilatory persons, and occasionally averse
to duties—proffered any remonstrance against the clamor, this maid, by the
Judge's express orders, put her mouth to the keyhole and said in a monotonous,
wise.”
An hour later, precisely at half-past seven, the old gentleman entered his
parlor, marched with the deliberation and gravity of a procession up to a large
Bible which occupied a table by itself, took it deferentially in his meagre arms,
seated himself, opened the book upon his knees, wiped his spectacles, and rang
a little bell. This bell, by the way, was of bronze; and when Alice once substituted
for it a silver one which she had bought with her own money, her
grave relative put it aside and called for the plainer instrument; at the same
time remarking, with his characteristic solemn humor, that silver was a noble
metal and worthy of the New Jerusalem, but brass was good enough to call
sinners together.
It was expected that at the sound of this bell all the family, including the
domestics, should appear immediately. If one lingered, that one was sent for;
but meanwhile the Judge showed no annoyance or even impatience; he waited
in solemn silence and with an air of abstracted meditation; his sunken, glassy
eyes were never lifted from the sacred page. On the advent of the loiterer he
invariably said, “The king's business requires haste,” and then proceeded with
his service.
To save Nestoria from the chance of this reproof, Mrs. Dinneford went to
her room on the first morning of her visit. To her great satisfaction she found
the girl dressed and ready.
“How do you do, my dear?” she said, with a kiss. “I hope you slept the
sleep of youth and health. You must have been as tired as a little bird when
he first tries his wings. Have you looked at this glorious sea this morning?
The sun is shining on it like the sun of Austerlitz. It must remind you of
your native mountains.”
Mrs. Dinneford always had so much to say, and was moved to say it in such
a hurry, that she was frequently not a little vague and dislocated in discourse,
leaving her connections of thought to be guessed at. The association, for instance,
of the Kurdish mountains with Long Island Sound, strikes one as loose.
“But I am so glad you slept,” she ran on. “Young people, and old people
too, for that matter, don't always rest well in a new place. We human
creatures are a little like cats; we get along best in our own garrets. And it is
even so in matters of religion; many people can't worship God except in their
own church; indeed, it's wonderful how many cat Christians there are. As
my excellent and wise friend Tupper says, `We are frail, and governed by
externals.' But I am so glad now you are all ready. I was a little afraid you
might have overslept, in spite of those spirit-rappings that worry us up of
mornings. You must know that Cousin Wetherel is very particular about
promptness at family prayers; and I just ran up to see that you didn't fail, and
made a good impression upon him the first morning. Well, we'll go down
now; there's the prayer bell. It's just like a college or a church, isn't it?
Dear me, how much bell-metal has had to do with Christianity. I sometimes
wonder how the faith would have been spread if bronze had never been invented.
As some Frenchman has said, everything has to be advertised, even
religion; and though he may not have said it in the most respectful spirit, nevertheless
there's some truth in it. The deaf ears of this world have to be assailed
in all sorts of ways to make them hear; and bell-ringing is only another
kind of crying aloud in the waste places. It is one of the indirect influences
that Tupper speaks of; you know he says, `Hints shrewdly strown mightily disturb
Bible on his knees. He won't look at you, but don't mind that. He never enters
upon the conversation of the day until, as he says, he has invoked Heaven's
blessing upon it. Prayer before speech and thanks before food, is one of
his mottoes. There is Alice now. Alice, come and speak to Nestoria while
you have a chance. You see, child, we don't follow Cousin Wetherel's precepts.
We talk at all times, in season and out of season, and sometimes, perhaps,
without a blessing upon it; or if there is one, it comes by good luck and
no merit of ours. Talking seems to be our mission. It's just as natural to us
as rattling to a wagon.”
During this speech Nestoria had several times tried in vain to make answer.
She had sought to say that she had slept well, that she had admired the sunlight
on the sea, that she had thought of her native mountains, and that she
thanked Mrs. Dinneford for calling her. But the fluency of the elder lady perpetually
submerged her, and she had not been able to get a whole sentence to
the surface.
She now exchanged a kiss and a little hurried whispering with Alice; and
then they were in the parlor in the solemnizing presence of Judge Wetherel. As
Mrs. Dinneford had predicted, he did not address his visitor on her entrance,
and his glassy eyes remained fixed upon his Bible. The servants, an elderly
English coachman, a still more venerable cook of the female gender and American
stock, and an Irish Protestant chambermaid of thirty, who had all been
respectfully waiting the arrival of their betters, now came in and took seats by
the door. Only when perfect silence and quiet had been established did the
Judge commence his devotions. Lifting his eyes for the first time in two minutes,
he turned them slowly from face to face, and uttered in his tremulous
monotone the following words:
“My Christian friends, unworthy as we all are of such mercy, our Creator
has permitted us once more to look upon each other, and to join in returning
thanks for undeserved blessings. I shall now read a portion of this Holy Word
which was revealed to us as a guide whereby we might reach a better and happier
life. If wisdom seems to be given me, I will endeavor to speak a word or
two of interpretation; and if I seem to you to pass any dark places without
proper note, I pray that you will deliver your minds therenpon, and if you cannot
shed light at least shed darkness; for the exhibition of darkness may lead
to a correction of light.”
He then read, very slowly, the eleventh chapter of Hebrews, pausing occasionally
to utter brief comments, some of the ordinary type of Biblical exegesis,
and others of an originality which bordered on humor. But whatever his
thoughts might have been, his countenance remained grave; not even a comic
incident could ruffle the icy surface of its solemnity. After he had read of the
faith of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, etc., he paused over the inquiry, “And
what shall I more say?” Here the elderly cook, who took it that this was a
question of Judge Wetherel's own asking, and that he was hard bested to answer
it, came to his relief.
“Say?” she repeated in a prompt, confident treble; “why, say they were
good men and ought to go to heaven.”
“Sarah,” tranquilly remarked the old man, “there is a wisdom which is
profitable.” and continued his reading.
Sarah, obtusely conscious of approval, glanced cheerfully at her juniors in
domestic travail, and then, curbing her spiritual pride, bent her loose eyes
lashes, and the rattleheaded Alice barely prevented a smile. Nestoria, educated
in habits of the profoundest respect for devotional matters, exhibited not the
slightest change of countenance. Nor was she at all diverted when a sportive
kitten mounted the Judge's back while he was on his knees, and played with
the silver locks which hung over his high coat collar. The old gentleman,
too, was equally indifferent to the feline disturbance; he touched upon all his
customary “topics” with his customary deliberation.
At last the service ended; the Judge rose with effort to his feet; and now
he allowed himself to salute his guest.
“Miss Bernard,” he said, walking composedly up to her and taking one of
her hands in both his, “I am rejoiced to see you at my altar and by my hearth.
Let me trust that the daughter of that servant of God, Doctor Bernard, will
make herself at home in a family which fervently admires her father. I will
not say this again. I am sure it will not be necessary.”
“I am glad to hear family prayers once more,” said Nestoria. “Of course
I have always been accustomed to them. It puts me at home at once.”
There was no tone of cant about this declaration, nor did the girl utter it to
please her company. She spoke with the utmost naturalness, and with unpremeditated
sincerity. It had seemed to her while listening to the Judge's patition
that she was once more in her childhood's home, and the power of reminiscence
that there is in familiar words and feelings had deeply moved an affectionate,
lonely heart.
Mr. Wetherel showed no sign of emotion in his wrinkled, imperturbable
countenance, but he walked slowly over to Mrs. Dinneford and whispered in
her ear, “She will find herself at home in Paradise.”
The utterance was so sublimely unworldly, and its enthusiasm was such a
matter of surprise as coming from the grave Judge, that for a moment Mrs.
Dinneford's soul was loftily shaken, and she could have found kindly pleasure
in crying.
“Uncle Wetherel, did you feel the cat on your back at prayers?” put in the
jovial Alice. “I would give a sixpence to know what you thought.”
“I was reminded to pray specially against the temptations of Satan,” answered
the old man. “Not that the cat can be a satanic incarnation, as our
worthy ancestors were suffered to believe. But wanderings of mind in devotion,
resulting from no matter what cause, are diabolic. We must resist them.”
Having dropped this insidious reproof, which Alice, by the way, took no
profitable note of, he proceeded to breakfast.
| CHAPTER V.
THE JUDGE'S MANNERS AND CUSTOMS. The Wetherel affair | |