Loveday's history

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

SO here I was once more thrown upon the world and going over the road I never thought to retrace again.

It was a beautiful spring day, with flowers abloom and birds singing in every direction. As we paused on the top of a rise of ground and I looked back, I remembered all of a sudden that it was from this very place that I had first caught sight of Dartford priory. Now I was leaving it behind me forever. I turned and looked at it. Nothing was changed outwardly. The commissioners had ordered the place cleared, and no one was to be seen moving save old Adam, who seemed to be going about his work as if nothing had happened. I believe the old man would have tied up his vines and hoed his vegetables to the very last minute, if he had known that the day of doom would come in an hour's time.

For a few minutes, I could not forbear weeping at the thought of leaving those with whom I had lived so long. I had dearly loved most of the elders of the family, though I had never formed any great intimacy with those near my own age and standing. Grievously as I had disliked the idea of going to the house as a child, I had, upon the whole, been happy there. I had no deep religious feelings or principles at that time, and I had never dreamed of doubting what had been taught me. I had a great desire, indeed, to read the Scriptures for myself, but it was only the curiosity which one has to see a famous book that one has heard about. I suppose the feeling that there was a kind of mystery about the matter might have had its effect in increasing that desire. Every one was kind to me. I had as few childish troubles and suffered as few corrections as fall to the lot of most children. I loved music and I loved learning languages, and opportunity had been given me to indulge both these tastes. Yes, upon the whole, I had been happy at Dartford.

"We must not linger long, Mistress Corbet, if we would be at home before night!" said John Davis, gently. "I blame not your regrets, but I trust you have yet much happiness and usefulness before you. I believe you may hope to serve God as well in the world as in yonder walls."

I could not but blush as I remembered that the thought of such service in one place or the other had not so much as crossed my mind.

We put our horses in motion, and all at once my heart gave a great bound of exultation. I was free once more—out in the world, with no walls to confine my footsteps and shut in my view. The very sight of the wide green fields and pastures, seemed to lift a load from my eyes and spirits, of which I had all the time been dimly conscious. I looked with interest at every hall and cottage, at every woman whom I saw gathering of greens for her pot, or nursing her babe at her door, and I would have liked to make one in every group of gossips that I saw collected round a well or at a street corner.

But long before night, my interest gave way to utter weariness, and I could think of nothing but when we should reach home. I had not been on horseback for many years, and a ride of fifteen miles was almost too much for me, strong as I was. We entered London at last, and reached my uncle's old house about sunset.

"Welcome, Mistress Corbet," said Master Davis, as he lifted me from my horse. "Welcome to your old home. Mistress Davis will strive to make it as homelike as the house you have left."

Mistress Davis herself, having heard of our arrival, came forward and met me with a motherly kiss as I entered the hall where I had come, a tired, homesick child, eight years or more before. As I entered the parlor and saw the old furniture in the old accustomed places, a curious feeling of unreality came over me, as though my convent life had been all a dream; and I more than half expected to see mine uncle seated in his own window and my aunt in hers, the one reading in his great book, the other darning of hosiery, or working at the white seam, in which she excelled. But the dream was quickly dispelled by the voice of Mistress Davis:

"Dear heart, and so you have come all the way from Dartford since eleven o'clock. How weary you must be. You shall have your supper directly, and go to your bed, and to-morrow you will be as fresh as a daisy. But you will like to wash before supper. My dear, I have such a poor head; I cannot recall your name!"