Gloomy Forebodings - The Postman's Mother - The Letter -Bears and Barons - The Best of Advice.
NOTHING occurred to me of any particular moment during the following day.Isopel Berners did not return; but Mr.
Petulengro and his companions came home from the fair early in the morning.When I saw him, which was about midday, Ifound him with his face bruised and swelled.It appeared that, some time after I had left him, he himself perceived that the jockeys with whom he was playing cards were cheating him and his companion; a quarrel ensued, which terminated in a fight between Mr.Petulengro and one of the jockeys, which lasted some time, and in which Mr.Petulengro, though he eventually came off victor, was considerably beaten.His bruises, in conjunction with his pecuniary loss, which amounted to about seven pounds, were the cause of his being much out of humour; before night, however, he had returned to his usual philosophic frame of mind, and, coming up to me as I was walking about, apologized for his behaviour on the preceding day, and assured me that he was determined, from that time forward, never to quarrel with a friend for giving him good advice.
Two more days passed, and still Isopel Berners did not return.Gloomy thoughts and forebodings filled my mind.
During the day I wandered about the neighbouring roads in the hopes of catching an early glimpse of her and her returning vehicle; and at night lay awake, tossing about on my hard couch, listening to the rustle of every leaf, and occasionally thinking that I heard the sound of her wheels upon the distant road.Once at midnight, just as I was about to fall into unconsciousness, I suddenly started up, for Iwas convinced that I heard the sound of wheels.I listened most anxiously, and the sound of wheels striking against stones was certainly plain enough."She comes at last,"thought I, and for a few moments I felt as if a mountain had been removed from my breast; - "here she comes at last, now, how shall I receive her? Oh," thought I, "I will receive her rather coolly, just as if I was not particularly anxious about her - that's the way to manage these women." The next moment the sound became very loud, rather too loud, Ithought, to proceed from her wheels, and then by degrees became fainter.Rushing out of my tent, I hurried up the path to the top of the dingle, where I heard the sound distinctly enough, but it was going from me, and evidently proceeded from something much larger than the cart of Isopel.
I could, moreover, hear the stamping of a horse's hoof at a lumbering trot.Those only whose hopes have been wrought up to a high pitch, and then suddenly cast down, can imagine what I felt at that moment; and yet when I returned to my lonely tent, and lay down on my hard pallet, the voice of conscience told me that the misery I was then undergoing Ihad fully merited, for the unkind manner in which I had intended to receive her, when for a brief moment I supposed that she had returned.
It was on the morning after this affair, and the fourth, if Iforget not, from the time of Isopel's departure, that, as Iwas seated on my stone at the bottom of the dingle, getting my breakfast, I heard an unknown voice from the path above -apparently that of a person descending - exclaim, "Here's a strange place to bring a letter to;" and presently an old woman, with a belt round her middle, to which was attached a leathern bag, made her appearance, and stood before me.
"Well, if I ever!" said she, as she looked about her."My good gentlewoman," said I, "pray what may you please to want?" "Gentlewoman!" said the old dame, "please to want -well, I call that speaking civilly, at any rate.It is true, civil words cost nothing; nevertheless, we do not always get them.What I please to want is to deliver a letter to a young man in this place; perhaps you be he?" "What's the name on the letter?" said I, getting up, and going to her.
"There's no name upon it," said she, taking a letter out of her scrip, and looking at it."It is directed to the young man in Mumper's Dingle." "Then it is for me, I make no doubt," said I, stretching out my hand to take it."Please to pay me ninepence first," said the old woman."However,"said she, after a moment's thought, "civility is civility, and, being rather a scarce article, should meet with some return.Here's the letter, young man, and I hope you will pay for it; for if you do not I must pay the postage myself.""You are the postwoman, I suppose," said I, as I took the letter."I am the postman's mother," said the old woman;"but as he has a wide beat, I help him as much as I can, and I generally carry letters to places like this, to which he is afraid to come himself." "You say the postage is ninepence,"said I, "here's a shilling." "Well, I call that honourable,"said the old woman, taking the shilling, and putting it into her pocket - "here's your change, young man," said she, offering me threepence."Pray keep that for yourself," said I; "you deserve it for your trouble." "Well, I call that genteel," said the old woman; "and as one good turn deserves another, since you look as if you couldn't read, I will read your letter for you.Let's see it; it's from some young woman or other, I dare say." "Thank you," said I, "but I can read." "All the better for you," said the old woman; "your being able to read will frequently save you a penny, for that's the charge I generally make for reading letters;though, as you behaved so genteelly to me, I should have charged you nothing.Well, if you can read, why don't you open the letter, instead of keeping it hanging between your finger and thumb?" "I am in no hurry to open it," said I, with a sigh.The old woman looked at me for a moment -"Well, young man," said she, "there are some - especially those who can read - who don't like to open their letters when anybody is by, more especially when they come from young women.Well, I won't intrude upon you, but leave you alone with your letter.I wish it may contain something pleasant.
God bless you," and with these words she departed.
