Forgotten Tales of Long Ago

by E. V. Lucas

Being thus turned out of the cottage, where I had once been so happy, I followed the footsteps of Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley, frequently looking back to see if I could discover Mr. Davis and his cart coming from town, which, if I had, I should certainly have run back, told him what had passed, and asked him to take me back to Mrs. Williams, instead of sending me away with strangers. But no cart came in view, and a turning in the road soon hid even the cottage from my sight. I then walked pensively forward, meditating on my own unhappy fate, and comparing it with that of other children who were blessed with parents and relations. Mr. and Mrs. Sharpley had frequently looked back, as if to see that I followed them, but—here the path became wider—they told me to come and walk between them. I did so, and they then asked me a great many questions respecting my story, all of which I was obliged to answer, so that they soon knew every particular, excepting my having my father's picture, which I took care not to give the least hint of. They then asked me about my age, and, as I could not answer them exactly, they calculated it as well as they could from circumstances. Supposing I was five years old at the time of my mother's death, as I was seven years at E——, I must have been twelve years old the November before I went to the Smiths, thirteen last November, when I ran away from them; and should be fourteen next November. It was now the beginning of September. This point being settled, they began talking of other things, told me what a pleasant life I should lead with them, that all my employment would be to carry a light band-box during the days, and in the evenings, when they arrived at the inn where they were to pass the night, to work at my needle. To this I had no objection, and began to think I should not be so unhappy as I had at first supposed; but the idea of their stealing still predominated in my mind, though I could not imagine how they could do it, as the goods they carried were their own, and they could not rob themselves, and I was at a loss to think how they could commit theft. Simpleton that I was, I never thought that they could rob other people.

As we proceeded, they told me the names of the different places we passed through. They stopped at all the genteel houses, and many of the farmhouses, to ask them if they wanted any goods. Several bought a good many things of them; others would scarcely give them an answer, but almost shut their doors in our faces. Thus passed away several hours. The shades of evening were beginning to fall, and I was very weary with walking so much, when we entered a large town, where they told me we should pass the night. We went to a small inn, which they said was the house where they always slept when they came to this town. We were shown to a room that they called their own, as it was kept entirely for their use. Mrs. Sharpley ordered tea, and her husband said to her:

'Come, my dear, we must see if we have a remnant of some stuff to make a dress for Lady Anne. She is very well dressed for a gardener's girl, but not smart enough for us.'

The pack was then opened, and they picked out the remains of a piece of very pretty slate-coloured stuff sufficiently large to make me a dress.

'Now,' said Mrs. Sharpley, 'after tea we must stitch away, for your dress must be made this night before you go to bed.'

The tea was soon brought in, and we all sat down to it with a good appetite, for it was now past seven o'clock, and we had not tasted anything but a little porter since we dined, which was between twelve and one o'clock. After tea Mr. Sharpley went out. His wife very expeditiously cut out my dress, and gave me the skirt to make, while she sat down to make the body and sleeves. I had been used to do a great deal of sewing, and was not slow at my needle; but I think I never in my life had worked so fast as I did that evening; and, as for Mrs. Sharpley, she worked so quick that her hand seemed absolutely to fly to and from the work. She said very little to me, except occasionally a few words of commendation, such as:

'That is a good girl! I see you will do very well. If you are diligent you shall have no cause to repent having come with us.'

Thus encouraged, I worked with unabated diligence till about ten o'clock, when Mr. Sharpley returned, and soon after our supper, consisting of mutton-chops and potatoes, was brought up. After supper Mrs. Sharpley and I returned to our work, and Mr. Sharpley read aloud from a newspaper. Thus passed the time, till a few minutes after twelve, when my dress was finished, excepting a little trimming of ribbon, which Mrs. Sharpley said might be put on another night. It was tried on, fitted me extremely well, and Mr. Sharpley said that if I was properly dressed I might pass, not only for an Earl's daughter, but a Duke's daughter.

'But, Lady Anne,' said he very seriously, 'I would advise you to put all these fine thoughts out of your head, for, though I will not call your mother an impostor, as the people of E—— did, yet I must say that, if she had been an Earl's lady, she would hardly have been travelling in a post-chaise without an attendant. It seems to me that, whatever your father was, he had left your mother, and that she was returning to her own friends to live with them, when she was taken ill at E——and died. If this is the case, which appears to me most likely, your father, if he was to see you, would not own you, nor give himself the least trouble about you; so I wish you to put all high thoughts out of your head, give your mind entirely to our business, and we will reward you according to your diligence.'

These words brought tears into my eyes, for, though in my own mind I feared I should never find my father, yet to hear another person say that I should not seemed to make it so certain that my heart appeared to die at the thought; and then, again, to hear it said that my father had deserted us—that if he was to see me he would not own me—oh! could that be possible? Yet how was it that I was really left a wanderer in the wide world? That I knew not, but the certainty that I was so made me weep bitterly. Calming my agitation as much as I was able, I promised to be diligent in their business, and to obey them in everything that I could. They both laughed, and said I was terribly afraid they should want me to steal. Mrs. Sharpley then showed me to a bed in a closet adjoining their room, and the oblivion of sleep soon made me forget all that had passed the preceding day.