And then she dropped the subject, and said no more. That was always her way. She spoke out where she counted it right, but she didn't go on bothering where her words had no power.
Mother was so pleased to have her five-pound note, that she seemed to care very little for what was being said. She went off that same afternoon, and got some new roses for her bonnet, and a smart ribbon, and a big brooch. Father laughed when he saw them, and said he had meant the money for the butcher and baker and milkman, for we had been having things on credit since he left off work; but he went on to add that it didn't matter, for there was plenty more. And next day he brought another five-pound note, and gave it to grannie, and told mother to do what she liked with the other. Every penny of it went in dress. Grannie said to herself, "It's a sort of madness;" but I do not think she meant me to hear.
Another three or four months went by, and still the money did not come. More five-pound notes followed the first, and money had to be borrowed fur the rent of the new house, as well as for our every-day expenses. Mother said one day that she could not see why we should not go into it straight off, and get rid of the old cottage. What was the good of waiting? she asked. It would not cost us much more to live in the house than in the cottage. Perhaps there was some truth in this as we were now living; for father was getting to be very particular about having the best of everything at table; and he and mother seemed quite careless how many bills they ran up.
Grannie said nothing, only she went very white again. But father took up the notion at once. He said it was folly to be keeping up two homes, and the quicker we moved the better. So the bills were run up higher still, in getting lots of new things to make the other house quite ready; for mother was set on having all "genteel," as she said. It was settled that we were to get in before Christmas Day, and father began trying to find somebody to buy the cottage.
Grannie was very loth to have the cottage sold. She stood out for awhile, and it could not be done without her consent. She wanted it to be only let; so that it might be ours still, if we ever wanted it again. But father was very much vexed, for he wanted the ready money; and he told her she always thwarted him in everything, and he threatened to go and borrow a hundred pounds right away from Mr. Simmons. Grannie gave in at last, but how she did cry! I think she and I both hoped father would not succeed. But he did, for there was a run upon the place in those days; and he was in such a hurry to get the matter settled, that he was willing to take less than the real value of the cottage, on condition that he should have quick payment. It was not long before he came in and told us that the thing was done.
"Grannie, are you very sorry?" I asked of her that night, when we were up in our little room, and she sat down in a sort of tired-out way on the foot of the bed.
"Mayhap I shouldn't be," she said. "It's no real harm for me to have my heart pulled loose from this world, and set on things higher." And she began to murmur, in a sort of half-singing voice, which quavered a little—
"'My rest is in heaven, my rest is not here;
Then why should I murmur when trials are near?
Be hushed, my dark spirit, the worst that can come