[The Right of Translation and Reproduction is reserved.]
LONDON:
BRADBURY, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
CONTENTS.
| CHAP. | PAGE | |
|---|---|---|
| I.— | SORROWFUL TIDINGS | [1] |
| II.— | WIDOWED | [24] |
| III.— | THE LETTER | [35] |
| IV.— | MEETING | [62] |
| V.— | RECONCILED | [96] |
| VI.— | THE LAST ENEMY | [119] |
| VII.— | OLD FRIENDS AND OLD PLACES | [141] |
| VIII.— | PHEMIE’S JOURNEY | [175] |
| IX.— | THE RETURN | [201] |
| X.— | BASIL’S COMFORTER | [217] |
| XI.— | CONFESSIONS | [230] |
| XII.— | PHEMIE EXPRESSES HER OPINIONS | [265] |
| XIII.— | CONCLUSION | [287] |
PHEMIE KELLER.
CHAPTER I.
SORROWFUL TIDINGS.
It was drawing towards the close of the year 1856 (there may be some among my readers who can recollect what a dull, foggy, cheerless ending that year had), when one morning the post to Marshlands brought with it an Indian letter for Captain Stondon.
The post often brought Indian letters there—long letters (for though the writer addressed his epistles to Captain Stondon, he knew they would be read by Phemie), full of descriptions of the country, of his occupations, of his prospects, of his hopes.
Nearly three years had elapsed since Basil’s departure, but time made no difference in the regularity of his correspondence. Let him be busy or the reverse, the young man still found leisure to despatch his budget of news. Perhaps he felt that on those letters Phemie lived; that her existence was only rendered supportable by the excitement of waiting for his missives, and hearing them read aloud; that she loved the sight of his handwriting as she had once loved the sight of himself; that she counted up the days as they came and went—counted how long it was since the arrival of his last letter, how long it would be before the advent of his next. The time had passed with her somehow; she was no longer the girl Phemie; she had changed from the young wife, from the beautiful gracious hostess, to a quiet, undemonstrative woman, who tried with all her heart and all her soul to do her duty.