Chapter Twenty Four.
Aunt Anne Harassed.
Many days had passed, and life went on at Hightoft in the same sad way.
It was the “master’s” desire that the nurse should stay, but there was rebellion among the servants against “master’s favourite,” and poor Aunt Anne’s breast swelled with anger against her niece, who had ventured to tell her that she was unjust.
“But I shall say nothing, Isabel, only that some day you will come to me repentant, asking my pardon. I always have been ready to ridicule all superstitious things, and have laughed at table turnings, and talkings, and hypnotisms, and mesmerisms, and all the rest of it, but that woman has something of the sort in her, a kind of power for influencing weak people, for she has literally bewitched you all. If she had lived a hundred years ago, she would have died.”
“Why, of course, Aunt dear,” said Isabel smiling. “It is nothing to make fun of, my dear. She would have either had her toes tied together, and been thrown into a pond, or been burned at the stake. That was the fate of all these witches then.”
“Poor Nurse Elisia!” said Isabel smiling. “I’m glad she did not live then.”
“Maria tells me,” continued Aunt Anne, “that it was just the same at the hospital. That woman used to turn all the other nurses and the students round her little finger; and as for Sir Denton—well, they may call him a great surgeon, but if ever the carriage overturns, and I am badly hurt, no Sir Dentons for me. I call him a weak, silly, infatuated old goose. Maria only yesterday told me that once—”
“Aunt Anne,” said Isabel quickly, “does it ever strike you that it is very undignified and degrading to listen to the wretched tattlings of an ignorant, spiteful woman, who returns all Nurse Elisia’s kindness to her by telling falsities and distorting simple matters that happened in the past?”
“Isabel!” cried Aunt Anne, starting bolt upright in her chair, “you surprise me!”