The Fairies were prodigiously excited when they showed her, withthe Baby, gossiping among a knot of sage old matrons, and affectingto be wondrous old and matronly herself, and leaning in a staid,demure old way upon her husband's arm, attempting - she! such a budof a little woman - to convey the idea of having abjured thevanities of the world in general, and of being the sort of personto whom it was no novelty at all to be a mother; yet in the samebreath, they showed her, laughing at the Carrier for being awkward,and pulling up his shirt-collar to make him smart, and mincingmerrily about that very room to teach him how to dance!
They turned, and stared immensely at him when they showed her withthe Blind Girl; for, though she carried cheerfulness and animationwith her wheresoever she went, she bore those influences into CalebPlummer's home, heaped up and running over.The Blind Girl's lovefor her, and trust in her, and gratitude to her; her own good busyway of setting Bertha's thanks aside; her dexterous little arts forfilling up each moment of the visit in doing something useful tothe house, and really working hard while feigning to make holiday;her bountiful provision of those standing delicacies, the Veal andHam-Pie and the bottles of Beer; her radiant little face arrivingat the door, and taking leave; the wonderful expression in herwhole self, from her neat foot to the crown of her head, of being apart of the establishment - a something necessary to it, which itcouldn't be without; all this the Fairies revelled in, and lovedher for.And once again they looked upon him all at once,appealingly, and seemed to say, while some among them nestled inher dress and fondled her, 'Is this the wife who has betrayed yourconfidence!'
More than once, or twice, or thrice, in the long thoughtful night,they showed her to him sitting on her favourite seat, with her benthead, her hands clasped on her brow, her falling hair.As he hadseen her last.And when they found her thus, they neither turnednor looked upon him, but gathered close round her, and comfortedand kissed her, and pressed on one another to show sympathy andkindness to her, and forgot him altogether.
Thus the night passed.The moon went down; the stars grew pale;the cold day broke; the sun rose.The Carrier still sat, musing,in the chimney corner.He had sat there, with his head upon hishands, all night.All night the faithful Cricket had been Chirp,Chirp, Chirping on the Hearth.All night he had listened to itsvoice.All night the household Fairies had been busy with him.
All night she had been amiable and blameless in the glass, exceptwhen that one shadow fell upon it.
He rose up when it was broad day, and washed and dressed himself.
He couldn't go about his customary cheerful avocations - he wantedspirit for them - but it mattered the less, that it was Tackleton's1
thought to have gone merrily to church with Dot.But such planswere at an end.It was their own wedding-day too.Ah! how littlehe had looked for such a close to such a year!
The Carrier had expected that Tackleton would pay him an earlyvisit; and he was right.He had not walked to and fro before hisown door, many minutes, when he saw the Toy-merchant coming in hischaise along the road.As the chaise drew nearer, he perceivedthat Tackleton was dressed out sprucely for his marriage, and thathe had decorated his horse's head with flowers and favours.
The horse looked much more like a bridegroom than Tackleton, whosehalf-closed eye was more disagreeably expressive than ever.Butthe Carrier took little heed of this.His thoughts had otheroccupation.
'John Peerybingle!' said Tackleton, with an air of condolence.'Mygood fellow, how do you find yourself this morning?'
'I have had but a poor night, Master Tackleton,' returned theCarrier, shaking his head: 'for I have been a good deal disturbedin my mind.But it's over now! Can you spare me half an hour orso, for some private talk?'
'I came on purpose,' returned Tackleton, alighting.'Never mindthe horse.He'll stand quiet enough, with the reins over thispost, if you'll give him a mouthful of hay.'
The Carrier having brought it from his stable, and set it beforehim, they turned into the house.
'You are not married before noon,' he said, 'I think?'
'No,' answered Tackleton.'Plenty of time.Plenty of time.'
When they entered the kitchen, Tilly Slowboy was rapping at theStranger's door; which was only removed from it by a few steps.
One of her very red eyes (for Tilly had been crying all night long,because her mistress cried) was at the keyhole; and she wasknocking very loud; and seemed frightened.
'If you please I can't make nobody hear,' said Tilly, lookinground.'I hope nobody an't gone and been and died if you please!'
This philanthropic wish, Miss Slowboy emphasised with various newraps and kicks at the door; which led to no result whatever.
'Shall I go?' said Tackleton.'It's curious.'
The Carrier, who had turned his face from the door, signed to himto go if he would.
So Tackleton went to Tilly Slowboy's relief; and he too kicked andknocked; and he too failed to get the least reply.But he thoughtof trying the handle of the door; and as it opened easily, hepeeped in, looked in, went in, and soon came running out again.
'John Peerybingle,' said Tackleton, in his ear.'I hope there hasbeen nothing - nothing rash in the night?'
The Carrier turned upon him quickly.
'Because he's gone!' said Tackleton; 'and the window's open.Idon't see any marks - to be sure it's almost on a level with thegarden: but I was afraid there might have been some - somescuffle.Eh?'
He nearly shut up the expressive eye altogether; he looked at himso hard.And he gave his eye, and his face, and his whole person,a sharp twist.As if he would have screwed the truth out of him.
