"Well, she wont have him, I'm sure," continued the widow, "for it has been hanging off and on for these six years. People at first said it was because they were too young. But I know that she has always refused, and declared that nothing should ever drive her to marry him, or any one else; for the law might say what it liked, but her own heart and her own conscience, told her that she was Harry Leyton's wife, and could not be any other man's, as long as he was living. Susan, her maid, heard her say so to Sir Robert himself; but he still keeps teasing her about it, and tells everybody she's engaged to young Radford."
"He'll go the devil," said Harding; "and I'll go to bed, Mrs. Clare, for I must be up early to-morrow, to get a good many things to rights. God bless you Kate, my love! I dare say I shall see you before I go--for I must measure the dear little finger!" And giving her a hearty kiss, Harding took a candle, and retired to the snug room that had been prepared for him.
[CHAPTER XI.]
We must change the scene for a while, not only to another part of the county of Kent, but to very different people from the worthy Widow Clare and the little party assembled at her cottage. We must pass over the events of the night also, and of the following morning up to the hour of nine, proposing shortly to return to Harbourne House, and trace the course of those assembled there. The dwelling into which we must now introduce the reader, was a large, old-fashioned Kentish farm-house, not many miles on the Sussex side of Ashford. It was built, as many of these farm-houses still are, in the form of a cross, presenting four limbs of strongly constructed masonry, two stories high, with latticed windows divided into three partitions, separated by rather neatly cut divisions of stone. Externally it had a strong Harry-the-Eighth look about it, and probably had been erected in his day, or in that of one of his immediate successors, as the residence of some of the smaller gentry of the time. At the period I speak of, it was tenanted by a family notorious for their daring and licentious life, and still renowned in county tradition for many a fierce and lawless act. Nevertheless, the head of the house, now waxing somewhat in years, carried on, not only ostensibly but really, the peaceable occupation of a Kentish farmer. He had his cows and his cattle, and his sheep and his pigs; he grew wheat and barley, and oats and turnips; had a small portion of hop-ground, and brewed his own beer. But this trade of farming was only a small part of his employment, though, to say the truth, he had given himself up more to it since his bodily powers had declined, and he was no longer able to bear the fatigue and exertion which the great strength of his early years had looked upon as sport. The branch of his business which he was most fond of was now principally entrusted to his two sons; and two strong, handsome daughters, which made the number of his family amount to four, occasionally aided their brothers, dressed in men's clothes, and mounted upon powerful horses, which they managed as well as any grooms in the county.
The reader must not think that, in this description, we are exercising indiscreetly our licence for dealing in fiction. We are painting a true picture of the family of which we speak, as they lived and acted some eighty or eighty-five years ago.
The wife of the farmer had been dead ten or twelve years; and her children had done just what they liked ever since; but it must be admitted, that, even if she had lived to superintend their education, we have no reason to conclude their conduct would have been very different from what it was. We have merely said that they had done as they pleased ever since her death, because during her life she had made them do as she pleased, and beat them, or, as she herself termed it, "basted" them heartily, if they did not. She was quite capable of doing so too, to her own perfect satisfaction, for probably few arms in all Kent were furnished with more sinewy muscles or a stouter fist than hers could boast. It was only upon minor points of difference, however, that she and her children ever quarrelled; for of their general course of conduct she approved most highly; and no one was more ready to receive packets of lace, tea, or other goods under her fostering care, or more apt and skilful in stopping a tub of spirits from "talking," or of puzzling a Custom-House officer when force was not at hand to resist him.
She was naturally of so strong a constitution, and so well built a frame, that it is wonderful she died at all; but having caught cold one night, poor thing!--it is supposed, in setting fire to a neighbouring farm-house, the inmates of which were suspected of having informed against her husband--her very strength and vigour gave a tendency to inflammation, which speedily reduced her very low. A surgeon, who visited the house in fear and trembling, bled her largely, and forbade the use of all that class of liquids which she was accustomed to imbibe in considerable quantities; and for three or four days the fear of death made her follow his injunctions. But at the end of that period, when the crisis of the disease was imminent, finding herself no better, and very weak, she declared that the doctor was a fool, and ought to have his head broken, and directed the maid to bring her the big green bottle out of the corner cupboard. To this she applied more than once, and then beginning to get a little riotous, she sent for her family to witness how soon she had cured herself. Sitting up in her bed, with a yellow dressing-gown over her shoulders, and a gay cap overshadowing her burning face, she sung them a song in praise of good liquor--somewhat panting for breath, it must be owned--and then declaring that she was "devilish thirsty," which was probably accurate to the letter, she poured out a large glass from the big green bottle, which happened to be her bed-fellow for the time, and raised it to her lips. Half the contents went down her throat; but, how it happened I do not know, the rest was spilt upon the bed clothes, and good Mrs. Ramley fell back in a doze, from which nobody could rouse her. Before two hours were over she slept a still sounder sleep, which required the undertaker to provide against its permanence.
The bereaved widower comforted himself after a time. We will not say how many hours it required to effect that process. He was not a drunken man himself; for the passive participle of the verb to "drink" was not often actually applicable to his condition. Nevertheless, there was a great consumption of hollands in the house during the next week; and, if it was a wet funeral that followed, it was not with water, salt or fresh.
There are compensations for all things; and if Ramley had lost his wife, and his children a mother, they all lost also a great number of very good beatings, for, sad to say, he who could thrash all the country round, submitted very often to be thrashed by his better half, or at all events underwent the process of either having his head made closely acquainted with a candlestick, or rendered the means of breaking a platter. After that period the two boys grew up into as fine, tall, handsome, dissolute blackguards as one could wish to look upon; and for the two girls, no term perhaps can be found in the classical authors of our language; but the vernacular supplies an epithet particularly applicable, which we must venture to use. They were two strapping wenches, nearly as tall as their brothers, full, rounded, and well formed in person, fine and straight cut in features, with large black shining eyes, a well-turned foot and ancle, and, as was generally supposed, the invincible arm of their mother.
We are not here going to investigate or dwell upon the individual morality of the two young ladies. It is generally said to have been better in some respects than either their ordinary habits, their education, or their language would have led one to expect; and, perhaps being very full of the stronger passions, the softer ones had no great dominion over them.