[CHAPTER XVIII
THE RECONCILIATION]
Whether it was that Margaret’s fame had reached the village of Brandiston, or that Mrs. Leader repented most bitterly the loss of her assistance, or that her rents of the land and cottages began to be in arrear and to fall off, and she herself found that poverty crept in upon her, certain it was that something sufficiently powerful in its nature prompted her to speak kindly to Margaret, whom she accidentally met that very day as she was going across the Green towards Christ Church Park. She had arrived at Ipswich with her husband, and was passing over the Green just as Margaret with the children, all wrapped up in cloaks and muffs, were going to see the skaters on the Round Pond in the Park.
The meeting was much more cordial than could have been expected; but Mrs. Leader was a changed woman. After the interchange of mutual civilities, Margaret said that she should be home by four o’clock, and if her uncle and aunt would call, she knew that her mistress would have no objection to their coming into the house. Mrs. Leader even shook hands with her, and promised to pay her a visit.
What a wonderful change! thought Margaret, as she hastened on with the little ones to overtake two or three of the impatient party, who were looking behind from the Park-gate.
The Park at Ipswich is a beautiful place in summer: twice a week were its gates thrown open by the liberal proprietor of the domain to the inhabitants of the town, who rambled along the shady chestnut walk to its utmost bound. Many were the happy walks that infancy, delighting in the sunny flowers of the mead, took in that lovely place; and many the more tender and animating rambles which fond hearts and faithful lovers in the days of youth enjoyed. Parents and their children breaking away from the cares of business, delighted to stroll in holiday attire, and repose themselves beneath the branches of those stately trees which everywhere adorned the Park. There they heard the first notes of the cuckoo; there they watched the green and spotted woodpecker; observed the busy rooks; heard the nightingales, the thrushes, and the doves, and spoke of all the innocent pleasures of nature.
The spotted fallow deer crossed their path in a long line of rapid flight, and assembled in a herd in the valley; the pheasant and the partridge roamed about in pride and beauty; whilst the hare and the rabbit, familiarized to the sound of children’s voices, lifted up their long ears, or stood up upon their hind legs to gaze upon them as they passed.
In the winter, the stragglers in the Park were comparatively few, excepting at that period when the pond was frozen over, and became the fashionable resort for company to view the skaters; thither the young party whom Margaret had the care of resorted, to see the dexterous movements of Counsellor Green, or some of his majesty’s officers from the barracks. The company that day was numerous, and the scene such as would delight thousands, even were it in the gay metropolis; it would have induced many of the fashionables to leave the warm, soft cushions by the fireside, and to wrap themselves in furs, and to put on their snow-shoes, and to enjoy the healthy, though frosty, air of Christmas.
Many in the busy town of Ipswich left their labours and their cares for a few hours’ recreation; fair ladies ventured to lean upon a brother’s or a lover’s arm and try the slippery ice; sledges, too, were in requisition.