CHAPTER XIV
1875
AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE
It is not quite easy to say at what precise date the idea first seriously presented itself to the mind of Charlotte Tucker, that she might go out to India as a Missionary. Some years earlier, after the death of her sister Fanny, she had evidently regretted that she could not do so, looking upon herself as too old. But the question again arose—Was she really too old? That question Charlotte now faced steadily.
The plan of living in her brother’s house, never looked upon as entirely permanent, had lasted several years; but various causes pointed to a change before long as probably necessary. In January 1875, Mr. Hamilton, who had long been in failing health, passed away; and Charlotte seems, either in anticipation of the event, or directly after, to have had some floating ideas of making a home with her widowed favourite sister. Here also, however, there were certain difficulties in the way of an entirely permanent arrangement; and meanwhile the thought of India was becoming prominent.
Charlotte was now close upon fifty-four years old,—an age at which few women dream of making an absolutely fresh start in life. Some are and some are not elderly at that age; but as a general rule no doubt a woman’s best and most vigorous days are then over, and she is more or less disposed for an easy existence. Many at that period can thoroughly enjoy travelling for pleasure. But to make a new home amid new surroundings, to learn a new language, to enter upon a new line of work,—these things after the fiftieth birthday have a somewhat alarming sound.
Not so with A.L.O.E.! For her these fifty years and more of quiet English existence had been years of preparation, of training, of patience. For her parents’ sake she had dutifully held back, during the noontide and early afternoon of her history, from much that she would fain have done; and though the latter part of her ‘afternoon’ had been full and busy, with freedom to do what she willed, yet even this was not enough. At fifty-four she stood practically alone, with no near relative entirely dependent on her kind offices. She was absolutely necessary to none. Had she been, she would not have gone to India. But finding herself thus unfettered, the thought came up,—Why not devote the Evening of her life to Missionary work? Why not set an example to others who, like herself, might with advancing years be left free of ties? Or at least, why not put the matter to the test of actual trial, and prove whether or not elderly women, and not younger ones only, might go forth to work among the Heathen?
There was the question of health. Could she stand the trying climate of India? Would she not be a mere burden on others?—an additional care instead of a help?
Well, at least she could try. If her health failed to stand the climate, she could but return home. If she succeeded, she might be the Pioneer of many more, who would perhaps venture to tread in her footsteps.
Had it been a question of going out at the expense of the Society’s funds, the Society might rightly have hesitated; but Charlotte Tucker had enough of her own. While placing herself under the authority of the Zenana Society, and obeying orders, she would pay her own way; therefore, no risking of Missionary funds was involved.
No doubt she was peculiarly well adapted for the attempt. Although thin and delicate-looking, she was distinctly wiry, with much underlying strength, and an immense amount of vigour and vitality. A woman of fifty, who can lightly dance the gavotte, with springs which a child cannot emulate, is not quite an ordinary specimen of advancing years. The failure of power which had followed upon the death of Letitia, lasting more or less during some years, had now pretty well passed off; and there seemed to be good promise of a healthy old age.
She was generally sound, with no especial delicacy; she did not suffer from any tendency to headache; she was not fussy, or self-indulgent, or dainty as to her eating, or particular as to personal comforts, or squeamish as to her surroundings, or shy in making new friends, or afraid of toil and trouble. All these things were in her favour. She was in fact no timid shrinking Miss Toosey,—dear little old lady that Miss Toosey was!—but a fine spirited specimen of A middle-aged Lady of England,—well fitted, it might be, to become even then A Lady of India. Those who think of following the example of A. L. O. E. ought to possess at least some of her qualifications. Had a Miss Toosey, instead of a Miss Tucker, been the Pioneer of elderly ladies in the Mission-field, the attempt would have been a disastrous failure.