"No wonder if the poor child's tongue is frozen in her mouth," said he;and I think he positively frowned at Zenobia."The very heart will be frozen in her bosom, unless you women can warm it, among you, with the warmth that ought to be in your own!"Hollingsworth's appearance was very striking at this moment.He was then about thirty years old, but looked several years older, with his great shaggy head, his heavy brow, his dark complexion, his abundant beard, and the rude strength with which his features seemed to have been hammered out of iron, rather than chiselled or moulded from any finer or softer material.His figure was not tall, but massive and brawny, and well befitting his original occupation; which as the reader probably knows--was that of a blacksmith.As for external polish, or mere courtesy of manner, he never possessed more than a tolerably educated bear; although, in his gentler moods, there was a tenderness in his voice, eyes, mouth, in his gesture, and in every indescribable manifestation, which few men could resist and no woman.But he now looked stern and reproachful; and it was with that inauspicious meaning in his glance that Hollingsworth first met Zenobia's eyes, and began his influence upon her life.
To my surprise, Zenobia--of whose haughty spirit I had been told so many examples--absolutely changed color, and seemed mortified and confused.
"You do not quite do me justice, Mr.Hollingsworth," said she almost humbly."I am willing to be kind to the poor girl.Is she a protegee of yours? What can I do for her?""Have you anything to ask of this lady?" said Hollingsworth kindly to the girl."I remember you mentioned her name before we left town.""Only that she will shelter me," replied the girl tremulously."Only that she will let me be always near her.""Well, indeed," exclaimed Zenobia, recovering herself and laughing, "this is an adventure, and well-worthy to be the first incident in our life of love and free-heartedness! But I accept it, for the present, without further question, only," added she, "it would be a convenience if we knew your name.""Priscilla," said the girl; and it appeared to me that she hesitated whether to add anything more, and decided in the negative."Pray do not ask me my other name,--at least not yet,--if you will be so kind to a forlorn creature."Priscilla!--Priscilla! I repeated the name to myself three or four times;and in that little space, this quaint and prim cognomen had so amalgamated itself with my idea of the girl, that it seemed as if no other name could have adhered to her for a moment.Heretofore the poor thing had not shed any tears; but now that she found herself received, and at least temporarily established, the big drops began to ooze out from beneath her eyelids as if she were full of them.Perhaps it showed the iron substance of my heart, that I could not help smiling at this odd scene of unknown and unaccountable calamity, into which our cheerful party had been entrapped without the liberty of choosing whether to sympathize or no.Hollingsworth's behavior was certainly a great deal more creditable than mine.
"Let us not pry further into her secrets," he said to Zenobia and the rest of us, apart; and his dark, shaggy face looked really beautiful with its expression of thoughtful benevolence."Let us conclude that Providence has sent her to us, as the first-fruits of the world, which we have undertaken to make happier than we find it.Let us warm her poor, shivering body with this good fire, and her poor, shivering heart with our best kindness.Let us feed her, and make her one of us.As we do by this friendless girl, so shall we prosper.And, in good time, whatever is desirable for us to know will be melted out of her, as inevitably as those tears which we see now.""At least," remarked I, "you may tell us how and where you met with her.""An old man brought her to my lodgings," answered Hollingsworth, "and begged me to convey her to Blithedale, where--so I understood him--she had friends; and this is positively all I know about the matter."Grim Silas Foster, all this while, had been busy at the supper-table, pouring out his own tea and gulping it down with no more sense of its exquisiteness than if it were a decoction of catnip; helping himself to pieces of dipt toast on the flat of his knife blade, and dropping half of it on the table-cloth; using the same serviceable implement to cut slice after slice of ham; perpetrating terrible enormities with the butterplate;and in all other respects behaving less like a civilized Christian than the worst kind of an ogre.Being by this time fully gorged, he crowned his amiable exploits with a draught from the water pitcher, and then favored us with his opinion about the business in hand.And, certainly, though they proceeded out of an unwiped mouth, his expressions did him honor.
"Give the girl a hot cup of tea and a thick slice of this first-rate bacon," said Silas, like a sensible man as he was."That's what she wants.Let her stay with us as long as she likes, and help in the kitchen, and take the cow-breath at milking time; and, in a week or two, she'll begin to look like a creature of this world."So we sat down again to supper, and Priscilla along with us.
