Mother Bridget did not reproach her daughter for her past conduct, but employed all her eloquence to console her, and entreat her to bear up with courage under the loss of all her hopes. “You must resign him,” said she: “you scorned at the happiness which presented itself to your acceptance, therefore you must now endeavour to be resigned at its departure. Experience has taught me that those hopes which appear to be the best founded are frequently the most delusive; follow my example, and never again deliver up your heart. Do not reckon on any amelioration of your condition, and you will be contented with your lot. Honour this spinning-wheel, which produces the means of your subsistence, and then fortune and riches will be immaterial to you: you may do without them.”
Thus saying, mother Bridget turned the wheel round with redoubled velocity, in order to make up for the time lost in conversation. She spoke nothing but the truth to her daughter; for, since the opportunity was gone by when she hoped it was possible to have regained her lost comforts, she had in such a manner simplified her present wants and projects of future life, that it was not in the power of destiny to produce any considerable derangement in them. But as yet Meta was not so great a philosopher; so that her mother’s exhortations, consolations, and doctrines, produced a precisely different effect on her from what they were intended. Meta looked on herself as the destroyer of the flattering hopes her mother had entertained. Although she did not formally accept the offer of marriage proposed to her, and even then could not have reckoned on possessing beyond the common necessaries of life; yet, since she had heard the tidings of the great fortune obtained by the man of her heart, her views had become enlarged, and she anticipated with pleasure that by her choice she might realise her mother’s wishes.
Now, however, this golden dream had vanished: Francis would not come again; and, indeed, they even began to talk of an alliance about to take place between him and a very rich young lady of Anvers. The news was a death-blow to poor Meta: she vowed she would banish him from her thoughts; but still she shed very many tears.
Contrary, however, to her vow, she was one day thinking of the faithless one; for whenever she filled her spinning-wheel, she thought of the following distich, which her mother had frequently repeated to her to encourage her in her work.—
“Spin the thread well, spin, spin it more,
For see your intended is now at the door.”
Some one did in reality knock gently at the door: and mother Bridget went to see who it was. Francis entered, attired as for the celebration of a wedding. Surprise for a while suspended mother Bridget’s faculties of speech. Meta blushed deeply, and trembling, arose from her seat, but was equally unable with her mother to say a word. Francis was the only one of the three who could speak; and he candidly declared his love, and demanded of Bridget the hand of her daughter. The good mother ever attentive to forms, asked eight days to consider the matter, although the tears of joy which she shed, plainly evinced her ready and prompt acquiescence; but Francis, all impatience, would hear of no delay: finding which, she, conformable to her duty as a mother, willing to satisfy Francis’s ardour, adopted a midway, and left the decision to her daughter. The latter, obeying the dictates of her own heart, placed herself by the side of the object of her tenderest affection; and Francis, transported with joy, thanked her with a kiss.
The two lovers then entertained themselves with talking over the delights of the time when they so well communicated their sentiments by signs. Francis had great difficulty in tearing himself away from Meta, and such “converse sweet,” but he had an important duty to fulfil.
He directed his steps towards the bridge over the Weser, where he hoped to find his old friend with the wooden leg, whom he had by no means forgotten, although he had delayed making the promised visit. The latter instantly recognised Francis; and no sooner saw him at the foot of the bridge, than he came to meet him, and showed evident marks of pleasure at the sight of him. “Can you, my friend,” said Francis to him, after returning his salutation, “come with me into the new town and execute a commission? you will be well rewarded for your trouble.”
“Why not?—with my wooden leg I walk about just as well as other people; and, indeed, have an advantage over them, for it is never fatigued. I beg you, however, my good sir, to have the kindness to wait till the man with the grey greatcoat arrives.”
“What has this man with the grey great-coat to do with you?”