the poor clare-第2节

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e　was　when　he　had　first　met　with　her。　　She　had　one　child；　the　beautiful　daughter　who　came　riding　on　the　waggon…load　of　furniture　that　was　brought　to　the　Manor…house。　Madame　Starkey　had　taken　her　again　into　her　service　when　she　became　a　widow。　　She　and　her　daughter　had　followed　〃the　mistress〃　in　all　her　fortunes；　they　had　lived　at　St。　Germains　and　at　Antwerp；　and　were　now　come　to　her　home　in　Lancashire。　　As　soon　as　Bridget　had　arrived　there；　the　Squire　gave　her　a　cottage　of　her　own；　and　took　more　pains　in　furnishing　it　for　her　than　he　did　in　anything　else　out　of　his　own　house。　　It　was　only　nominally　her　residence。　　She　was　constantly　up　at　the　great　house；　indeed；　it　was　but　a　short　cut　across　the　woods　from　her　own　home　to　the　home　of　her　nursling。　　Her　daughter　Mary；　in　like　manner；　moved　from　one　house　to　the　other　at　her　own　will。　Madam　loved　both　mother　and　child　dearly。　　They　had　great　influence　over　her；　and；　through　her；　over　her　husband。　　Whatever　Bridget　or　Mary　willed　was　sure　to　come　to　pass。　　They　were　not　disliked；　for；　though　wild　and　passionate；　they　were　also　generous　by　nature。　　But　the　other　servants　were　afraid　of　them；　as　being　in　secret　the　ruling　spirits　of　the　household。　　The　Squire　had　lost　his　interest　in　all　secular　things；　Madam　was　gentle；　affectionate；　and　yielding。　　Both　husband　and　wife　were　tenderly　attached　to　each　other　and　to　their　boy；　but　they　grew　more　and　more　to　shun　the　trouble　of　decision　on　any　point；　and　hence　it　was　that　Bridget　could　exert　such　despotic　power。　　But　if　everyone　else　yielded　to　her　〃magic　of　a　superior　mind；〃　her　daughter　not　unfrequently　rebelled。　　She　and　her　mother　were　too　much　alike　to　agree。　　There　were　wild　quarrels　between　them；　and　wilder　reconciliations。　　There　were　times　when；　in　the　heat　of　passion；　they　could　have　stabbed　each　other。　　At　all　other　times　they　bothBridget　especiallywould　have　willingly　laid　down　their　lives　for　one　another。　　Bridget's　love　for　her　child　lay　very　deepdeeper　than　that　daughter　ever　knew；　or　I　should　think　she　would　never　have　wearied　of　home　as　she　did；　and　prayed　her　mistress　to　obtain　for　her　some　situationas　waiting　maidbeyond　the　seas；　in　that　more　cheerful　continental　life；　among　the　scenes　of　which　so　many　of　her　happiest　years　had　been　spent。　　She　thought；　as　youth　thinks；　that　life　would　last　for　ever；　and　that　two　or　three　years　were　but　a　small　portion　of　it　to　pass　away　from　her　mother；　whose　only　child　she　was。　　Bridget　thought　differently；　but　was　too　proud　ever　to　show　what　she　felt。　　If　her　child　wished　to　leave　her；　whyshe　should　go。　But　people　said　Bridget　became　ten　years　older　in　the　course　of　two　months　at　this　time。　　She　took　it　that　Mary　wanted　to　leave　her。　　The　truth　was；　that　Mary　wanted　for　a　time　to　leave　the　place；　and　to　seek　some　change；　and　would　thankfully　have　taken　her　mother　with　her。　　Indeed　when　Madam　Starkey　had　gotten　her　a　situation　with　some　grand　lady　abroad；　and　the　time　drew　near　for　her　to　go；　it　was　Mary　who　clung　to　her　mother　with　passionate　embrace；　and；　with　floods　of　tears；　declared　that　she　would　never　leave　her；　and　it　was　Bridget；　who　at　last　loosened　her　arms；　and；　grave　and　tearless　herself；　bade　her　keep　her　word；　and　go　forth　into　the　wide　world。　　Sobbing　aloud；　and　looking　back　continually；　Mary　went　away。　　Bridget　was　still　as　death；　scarcely　drawing　her　breath；　or　closing　her　stony　eyes；　till　at　last　she　turned　back　into　her　cottage；　and　heaved　a　ponderous　old　settle　against　the　door。　　There　she　sat；　motionless；　over　the　gray　ashes　of　her　extinguished　fire；　deaf　to　Madam's　sweet　voice；　as　she　begged　leave　to　enter　and　comfort　her　nurse。　　Deaf；　stony；　and　motionless；　she　sat　for　more　than　twenty　hours；　till；　for　the　third　time；　Madam　came　across　the　snowy　path　from　the　great　house；　carrying　with　her　a　young　spaniel；　which　had　been　Mary's　pet　up　at　the　hall；　and　which　had　not　ceased　all　night　long　to　seek　for　its　absent　mistress；　and　to　whine　and　moan　after　her。　　With　tears　Madam　told　this　story；　through　the　closed　doortears　excited　by　the　terrible　look　of　anguish；　so　steady；　so　immovableso　the　same　to…day　as　it　was　yesterdayon　her　nurse's　face。　　The　little　creature　in　her　arms　began　to　utter　its　piteous　cry；　as　it　shivered　with　the　cold。　Bridget　stirred；　she　movedshe　listened。　　Again　that　long　whine；　she　thought　it　was　for　her　daughter；　and　what　she　had　denied　to　her　nursling　and　mistress　she　granted　to　the　dumb　creature　that　Mary　had　cherished。　　She　opened　the　door；　and　took　the　dog　from　Madam's　arms。　Then　Madam　came　in；　and　kissed　and　comforted　the　old　woman；　who　took　but　little　notice　of　her　or　anything。　　And　sending　up　Master　Patrick　to　the　hall　for　fire　and　food；　the　sweet　young　lady　never　left　her　nurse　all　that　night。　　Next　day；　the　Squire　himself　came　down；　carrying　a　beautiful　foreign　pictureOur　Lady　of　the　Holy　Heart；　the　Papists　call　it。　　It　is　a　picture　of　the　Virgin；　her　heart　pierced　with　arrows；　each　arrow　representing　one　of　her　great　woes。　　That　picture　hung　in　Bridget's　cottage　when　I　first　saw　her；　I　have　that　picture　now。

Years　went　on。　　Mary　was　still　abroad。　　Bridget　was　still　and　stern；　instead　of　active　and　passionate。　　The　little　dog；　Mignon；　was　indeed　her　darling。　　I　have　heard　that　she　talked　to　it　continually；　although；　to　most　people；　she　was　so　silent。　　The　Squire　and　Madam　treated　her　with　the　greatest　consideration；　and　well　they　might；　for　to　them　she　was　as　devoted　and　faithful　as　ever。　　Mary　wrote　pretty　often；　and　seemed　satisfied　with　her　life。　　But　at　length　the　letters　ceasedI　hardly　know　whether　before　or　after　a　great　and　terrible　sorrow　came　upon　the　house　of　the　Starkeys。　　The　Squire　sickened　of　a　putrid　fever；　and　Madam　caught　it　in　nursing　him；　and　died。　　You　may　be　sure；　Bridget　let　no　other　woman　tend　her　but　herself；　and　in　the　very　arms　that　had　received　her　at　her　birth；　that　sweet　young　woman　laid　her　head　down；　and　gave　up　her　breath。　　The　Squire　recovered；　in　a　fashion。　　He　was　never　stronghe　had　never　the　heart　to　smile　again。　　He　fasted　and　prayed　more　than　ever；　and　people　did　say　that　he　tried　to　cut　off　the　entail；　and　leave　all　the　property　away　to　found　a　monastery　abroad；　of　which　he　prayed　that　some　day　little　Squire　Patrick　might　be　the　reverend　father。　　But　he　could　not　do　this；　for　the　strictness　of　the　entail　and　the　laws　against　the　Papists。　　So　he　could　only　appoint　gentlemen　of　his　own　faith　as　guardians　to　his　son；　with　many　charges　about　the　lad's　soul；　and　a　few　about　the　land；　and　the　way　it　was　to　be　held　while　he　was　a　minor。　　Of　course；　Bridget　was　not　forgotten。　　He　sent　for　her　as　he　lay　on　his　death…bed；　and　asked　her　if　she　would　rather　have　a　sum　down；　or　have　a　small　annuity　settled　upon　her。　　She　said　at　once　she　would　have　a　sum　down；　for　she　thought　of　her　daughter；　and　how　she　could　bequeath　the　money　to　her；　whereas　an　annuity　would　have　died　with　her。　　So　the　Squire　left　her　her　cottage　for　life；　and　a　fair　sum　of　money。　　And　then　he　died；　with　as　ready　and　willing　a　heart　as；　I　suppose；　ever　any　gentleman　took　out　of　this　world　with　him。　The　young　Squire　was　carried　off　by　his　guardians；　and　Bridget　was　left　alone。

I　have　said　that　she　had　not　heard　from　Mary　for　some　time。　　In　her　last　letter；　she　had　told　of　travelling　about　with　her　mistress；　who　was　the　English　wife　of　some　great　foreign　officer；　and　had　spoken　of　her　chances　of　making　a　good　marriage；　without　naming　the　gentleman's　name；　keeping　it　rather　back　as　a　pleasant　surprise　to　her　mother；　his　station　and　fortune　being；　as　I　had　afterwards　reason　to　know；　far　superior　to　anything　she　had　a　right　to　expect。　　Then　came　a　long　silence；　and　Madam　was　dead；　and　the　Squire　was　dead；　and　Bridget's　heart　was　gnawed　by　anxiety；　and　she　knew　not　whom　to　ask　for　news　of　her　child。　　She　could　not　write；　and　the　Squire　had　managed　her　communication　with　her　daughter。　　She　walked　off　to　Hurst；　and　got　a　good　priest　thereone　whom　she　had　known　at　Antwerpto　write　for　her。　　But　no　answer　came。　　It　was　like　crying　into　the'　awful　stillness　of　night。

One　day；　Bridget　was　missed　by　those　neighbours　who　had　been　accustomed　to　mark　her　goings…out　and　comings…in。　　She　had　never　been　sociable　with　any　of　them；　but　the　sight　of　her　had　become　a　part　of　their　daily　lives；　and　slow　wonder　arose　in　their　minds；　as　morning　after　morning　came；　and　her　house…door　remained　closed；　her　window　dead　from　any　glitter；　or　light　of　fire　within。　　At　length；　some　one　tried　the　door；　it　was　locked。　　Two　or　three　laid　their　heads　together；　before　daring　to　look　in　through　the　blank　unshuttered　window。　　But；　at　last；　they　summoned　up　courage；　and　then　saw　that　Bridget's　absence　from　their　little　world　was　not　the　result　of　accident　or　death；　but　of　premeditation。　　Such　small　articles　of　furniture　as　could　be　secured　from　the　effects　of　time　and　damp　by　being　packed　up；　were　stowed　away　in　boxes。　　The　picture　of　the　Madonna　was　taken　down；　and　gone。　　In　a　word；　Bridget　had　stolen　away　from　her　home；　and　left　no　trace　whither　she　was　departed。　　I　knew　afterwards；　that　she　and　her　little　dog　had　wandered　off　on　the　long　search　for　her　lost　daughter。　　She　was　too　illiterate　to　have　faith　in　letters；　even　had　she　had　the　means　of　writing　and　sending　many。　But　she　h