 | Dorothy |  |
Well for a peasant girl who has beauty and worth, like our Dolly,
If she have strength not her own, thus to support her at need!
Even if rashly she think—as Dolly had reason for thinking—
Gentlemen must go about seeking poor maids to devour.
She was a poor maid, too: but if he should seek to devour her—
He, with his glamour of words, graceful and glittering ways—
Surely he will not succeed? For that which ruin'd the mother
Gave to the daughter a soul keener and stronger than hers:
Love, too, was fast coming in—the added strength of attachment—
Soon Mr. Robert would come; soon she should see him again!
Thus then she waited and work'd, and thought of the shooting in Scotland:
When would Sir Harry return? When would they all be at home?
Weeks had already gone by, that day when the gentlemen met her,
Since the great Harvest Home, since Mr. Robert had gone;
Weeks had already gone by: when the housekeeper up at the Castle,
Calling at White Rose Farm, once, on her way to the town,
Mention'd, in affable talk to the Missis, and also to Mary,
That there was news of them all—news of Sir Harry, at last.
‘Yes, they are all coming back; and isn't it strange, Mr. Robert,
Going to be married so soon? Leastways, they say as it's him.’
‘Married!’ the Missis exclaim'd; but Mary was prudently silent,
Keeping her heart to herself, till the old gossip had gone.
Then, she also exclaim'd: ‘I'll never believe it! But, mother,
‘Don't you tell Dorothy, though; don't let our Dorothy know!’
‘Dolly? Why not?’ said the dame; ‘what has she got to do wi' the keeper?
‘Setting her cap at him, eh? Nay, it can never be that!’
‘Setting her cap? No indeed!’ cried Mary; ‘but, mother, I'm certain
‘He has a fancy for her—he'll marry nobody else.’
‘Why then, I thought it was you he was making sheep's eyes all along at!’
‘Me, mother? No, not he—I wouldn't have him, at least:
‘Somebody else shall have me’—but ere they were talking in this way,
Dolly, unhappy, had heard what Mrs. Jellifer said:
For in the scullery near, she was sitting and peeling potatoes,
Thinking of nothing at all; happy, no doubt, in her work;
When Mr. Robert his name had flash'd through her ears like the lightning;
Follow'd by thunder, alas! ‘Going to be married so soon!’
What did she do? Did she faint, and scream, and go into hysterics?
No, madam! Fainting and salts are not for wenches like her:
She only dropp'd her knife; and the curly potato parings
Roll'd off her quivering knees, settled themselves on the floor,
While she rose up, and went out: to the barn, for she knew it was empty—
Had a good cry, and return'd heavily back to her work.
Nobody named the affair; and all things went on just as usual;
Till, on a washing day, Mary and she were alone,
And she broke out and said, ‘Miss Mary, why didn't you tell me?’
‘Tell you? tell what?’ said the girl: ‘Why, that he's going to be wed!’
‘Wed? Not a bit! Not he! Now, Dorothy, don't you believe it!
‘I'll bet a penny it's lies—wait till you see him, and then!
‘Yes, it's just like them girls in the housemaids’ room at the Castle,
‘Wanting to have him theirsels—making up tales, when they can't!’
Dorothy shook her head: ‘I canna help thinking it's true, Miss;
There's such a many—and then, sure Mrs. Jellifer knows!’
If she have strength not her own, thus to support her at need!
Even if rashly she think—as Dolly had reason for thinking—
Gentlemen must go about seeking poor maids to devour.
She was a poor maid, too: but if he should seek to devour her—
He, with his glamour of words, graceful and glittering ways—
Surely he will not succeed? For that which ruin'd the mother
Gave to the daughter a soul keener and stronger than hers:
Love, too, was fast coming in—the added strength of attachment—
Soon Mr. Robert would come; soon she should see him again!
Thus then she waited and work'd, and thought of the shooting in Scotland:
When would Sir Harry return? When would they all be at home?
Weeks had already gone by, that day when the gentlemen met her,
Since the great Harvest Home, since Mr. Robert had gone;
Weeks had already gone by: when the housekeeper up at the Castle,
Calling at White Rose Farm, once, on her way to the town,
Mention'd, in affable talk to the Missis, and also to Mary,
That there was news of them all—news of Sir Harry, at last.
‘Yes, they are all coming back; and isn't it strange, Mr. Robert,
Going to be married so soon? Leastways, they say as it's him.’
‘Married!’ the Missis exclaim'd; but Mary was prudently silent,
Keeping her heart to herself, till the old gossip had gone.
Then, she also exclaim'd: ‘I'll never believe it! But, mother,
‘Don't you tell Dorothy, though; don't let our Dorothy know!’
42
‘Setting her cap at him, eh? Nay, it can never be that!’
‘Setting her cap? No indeed!’ cried Mary; ‘but, mother, I'm certain
‘He has a fancy for her—he'll marry nobody else.’
‘Why then, I thought it was you he was making sheep's eyes all along at!’
‘Me, mother? No, not he—I wouldn't have him, at least:
‘Somebody else shall have me’—but ere they were talking in this way,
Dolly, unhappy, had heard what Mrs. Jellifer said:
For in the scullery near, she was sitting and peeling potatoes,
Thinking of nothing at all; happy, no doubt, in her work;
When Mr. Robert his name had flash'd through her ears like the lightning;
Follow'd by thunder, alas! ‘Going to be married so soon!’
What did she do? Did she faint, and scream, and go into hysterics?
No, madam! Fainting and salts are not for wenches like her:
She only dropp'd her knife; and the curly potato parings
Roll'd off her quivering knees, settled themselves on the floor,
While she rose up, and went out: to the barn, for she knew it was empty—
Had a good cry, and return'd heavily back to her work.
Nobody named the affair; and all things went on just as usual;
Till, on a washing day, Mary and she were alone,
And she broke out and said, ‘Miss Mary, why didn't you tell me?’
‘Tell you? tell what?’ said the girl: ‘Why, that he's going to be wed!’
‘Wed? Not a bit! Not he! Now, Dorothy, don't you believe it!
‘I'll bet a penny it's lies—wait till you see him, and then!
‘Yes, it's just like them girls in the housemaids’ room at the Castle,
‘Wanting to have him theirsels—making up tales, when they can't!’
Dorothy shook her head: ‘I canna help thinking it's true, Miss;
There's such a many—and then, sure Mrs. Jellifer knows!’
| Dorothy | |