Mother was soe worried by the Odour of the Rats, that they alle started off a Day sooner than was first intended, leaving me merelie a little extra Packing. Consequence was, that this Morning, before Dawn, being earlie at my Task, there taps me at the Window an old Harridan that Mother can't abide, who is always a crying, "Anie Kitchen-stuff have you, Maids?"
Quoth I, "We've Nothing for you."
"Sure, my deary," answers she, in a cajoling voyce, "there's the Dripping and Candles you promised me this Morning, along with the Pot-liquor."
"Dear Heart, Mrs. Deb!" says Nurse, laughing, "there is, indeed, a Lot of Kitchen-stuff hid up near the Sink, which I dare say your Maid told her she was to have; and as it will only make the House smell worse, I don't see why she should not have it, and pay for it too."
Soe I laught, and gave it her forthe, and she put into my Hand two
Shillings; but then says, "Why, where's the Cheese?"
"We've no Cheese for you," sayd I.
"Well," says she, "it's a dear Bargayn; but . . ." peering towards me, "is t'other Mayd gone, then?"
"Oh, yes! both of 'em," says I; "and I'm the Mistress," soe burst out a laughing, and shut the Window, while she stumped off, with Something between a Grunt and a Grone. Of course, I gave the Money to Nurse.
We had much Talk overnight of my poor dear Mother. Nurse came to her
when Anne was born, and remained in the Family till after the Death of
Father's second Wife. She was a fayr and delicate Gentlewoman, by
Nurse's Account, soft in Speech, fond of Father, and kind to us and the
Servants; but all Nurse's Suffrages were in Favour of mine own loved
Mother.
I askt Nurse how there came to have beene a Separation betweene Father and Mother, soone after their Marriage. She made Answer, she never could understand the Rights of it, having beene before her Time; but they were both so good, and tenderly affectioned, she never could believe there had beene anie reall Wrong on either Side. She always thought my Grandmother must have promoted the Misunderstanding. Men were seldom fond of their Mothers-in-law. He was very kind to the whole Family the Winter before Anne was born, when, but for him, they would not have had a Roof over their Heads. Old Mr. Powell died in this House, the very Day before Christmas, which cast a Gloom over alle, insomuch that my Mother would never after keep Christmas Eve; and, as none of the Puritans did, they were alle of a Mind. My other Grandfather dropt off a few Months after; he was very fond of Mother. At this time Grandmother was going to Law for her Widow's Thirds, which was little worth the striving for, except to One soe extreme poor. Yet, spite of Gratitude and Interest, she must quarrel with Father, and remove herself from his House; which even her own Daughter thought very wrong. Howbeit, Mother would have her first Child baptized after her; and sent her alle the little Helps she could from her owne Purse, from Time to Time, with Father's Privity and Concurrence. He woulde have his next Girl called Mary, after Mother; though the Name she went by with him was "Sweet Moll;"—'tis now always "Poor Moll," or "Your Mother." Her health fayled about that Time, and they summered at Forest Hill—a Place she was always hankering after; but when she came back she told Nurse she never wished to see it agayn, 'twas soe altered. Father's Sight was, meantime, getting worse and worse. She read to him, and wrote for him often. He had become Cromwell's Secretary, and had received the public Thanks of the Commonwealth. . . . Great as his Reputation was at Home, 'twas greater Abroad; and Foreigners came to see him, as they still occasionally doe, from all Parts. My Mother not onlie loved him, but was proud of him. All her Pleasures were in Home. From my Birth to that of the little Boy who died, her Health and Spiritts were good; after that they failed; but she always tried to be chearfull with Father. She read her Bible much, and was good to the Poor. Nurse says 'twas almost miraculous how much Good she did at how little Cost, except of Forethought and Trouble; and all soe secretlie. She began to have an Impression she was for an early Grave, but did not seem to lament it. One Night, Nurse being beside her, awoke her from what she supposed an uneasie Dream, as she was crying in her Sleep; but as soone as she oped her Eyes, she looked surprised, and said it was a Vision of Peace. She thought the Redeemer of alle Men had been talking with her. Face to Face, as a Man talketh with his Friend, and that she had fallen at his Feet in grateful Joy, and was saying, "Oh! I can't express . . . I can't express—"