Camping out in Epping Forest
WHEN I returned Home, my Neighbours looked strangely on me, as though I were one risen from the Dead, after nursing two People through the Plague without Hurt. I said not much, however, to any of them except to Violet.
When I had told her all I had to tell, she said, “Well, I think the Tale ends rather flatly: you and Master Blower might as well have made a Match of it.”
“Truly, Violet,” said I, “I think Women of our age may be capable of a disinterested Action, without Question of Matchmaking.”
“As to Women of our Age,” retorted she, “speak for yourself, if you please! You may make out yourself to be as old as you will; but I mean to stick at Twenty-eight!”
I said not another Word, but secretly wondered how strangely tender some People are on the Subject of Age. Even Master Blower, who had owned to Forty-four, did not like me to reckon him at Fifty.
It was now quite the latter End of October, the Distemper was abating, and People were beginning to venture back to their Homes, and a few Shops were re-opened. Hugh Braidfoot and his Family returned among the rest. But too heedless an Exposure to the Infection yet lingering among us caused the Distemper to rage again with great Fury before it abated for good.
I now kept myself close, and spent the Chief of the Day at my Needle or Book, working much for the Poor, who were like enough to be destitute in the Winter. First, however, I put on Mourning for my poor, dear Father, whom I could not bear to deny this Mark of Remembrance, though the Mortality being so great, People had quite left off wearing Black for their Friends. Much he dwelt in my sad, solitary Thoughts; and when they ran not on him, they chiefly settled on Master Blower. The more I considered their Characters, the more Beauty I found in them.
I never opened the Shop-shutters now, except for a little Light. Trade was utterly stagnant; and my Father’s Business had dropped with him. The little I might have done in the Perfumery Line, had the Town not been empty, would not have been worth speaking of: it was a Mercy, therefore, that my dear Father had left me well provided.