I could believe this: for the change that had taken place in my soul was like passing from night to day.
I was, indeed, happy, supremely happy: since Lenore had promised to be mine.
That day I did not think of poor Jessie, until after my return home, when Mrs Nagger, while setting my tea before me, put the question:
“Please, sir, how is the poor young lady who was here this morning? She was such a nice creetur, I’m anxious to hear if she be well again.”
This was the most reasonable remark I had heard the old housekeeper make, during all my acquaintance with her. She had given utterance to a long speech, without once using her favourite expression. The fact was something wonderful; and that is probably the reason why I have recorded it.
In answer to her interrogatory, I told her, that I had neither seen nor heard of the young lady since the morning.
“Then more’s the pity!” rejoined Mrs Nagger. “If men have no regard for such a lovely creetur as her, it’s no wonder I have never found a husband. More’s the pity, sir! That’s all I can say.”
Mrs Nagger was a good servant; but my sister-in-law and her mother were often displeased with her; on account of a disposition she often displayed for meddling too much with what did not, or should not have concerned her. She seemed to consider herself one of the family; and entitled to know the affairs of every member of it, although I believe she was prompted to this, by a feeling of friendship and good will.
“Nagger,” I once heard my brother’s wife say to her, “I think you give yourself much more trouble, than is required from you.”
“More’s the pity, ma’am!” answered Nagger.