Won from the Waves

by William Henry Giles Kingston

A number of the surrounding tenantry had assembled near the park-gates to bid farewell to the young sailor who was going off to fight King George’s enemies on the high seas. Harry stopped the post-boy that he might put his hand out of the carriage to wish Mr Groocock, who was among them, good-bye, and to thank them for their good wishes, promising at all events to do his best to prevent the French from setting foot on the shores of England, and disturbing them in their quiet homes. Their hearty cheers as he drove off restored his spirits.

“It pays one for going away when the people show such kind feeling, and I hope when I come back to be received with as hearty a welcome,” he remarked to Algernon, who accompanied him as far as the next town, through which the coach passed.

There seemed a blank at Texford after Harry had gone.

The next day the Miss Pembertons moved into Downside Cottage. To some of the more worldly guests their departure was a relief, as they freely expressed opinions which were looked upon as savouring too strongly of what was called Methodism to be uttered in polite society.

Although she could not see the expression which her remarks called forth on the countenances of the company, Miss Mary was often aware by the tone of their voices that what she said was unpalatable. This, however, though it grieved her gentle spirit, did not anger her, and she spoke in so mild and loving a way that even those who were least disposed to adopt her principles could not help acknowledging that she was sincere and faithful in her belief.

The Miss Pembertons had not been long settled in their new abode before they began to visit their poorer neighbours. The blind lady and her sister were soon known in all parts of the village, and might be seen every day walking arm-in-arm, now stopping at one cottage to admire the flowers in the little plot of ground before it, or now at another to inquire after the health of one of the inmates. The sick and the afflicted received their first attentions; Miss Mary could quote large portions of the Scriptures, and explain them with a clearness and simplicity suited to the comprehension of the most ignorant of those she addressed.

The sisters had no carriage, for their income was limited; but those in distress found them liberal in their gifts, and the inhabitants of Hurlston averred that they might have kept not only a pony-chaise, but a carriage and pair, with the sums they annually distributed in the place. Their charities were, however, discerning and judicious, and although those who had brought themselves into poverty received assistance when there was a prospect of their amending, if they were known to be continuing in an evil course they might in vain look for help, and were pretty sure to meet with a somewhat strong rebuke from Miss Jane, as Miss Pemberton was generally called. In their inquiries about the people they were helped by a good dame, one of the oldest inhabitants, Granny Wilson, who lived in a nice tidy cottage, with an orphan grandchild. Though their charity was generally distributed by Miss Jane’s hand, Miss Mary was the greatest favourite. The sweet expression of her sightless countenance, and her gentle voice, won all hearts. Though Miss Mary never ventured outside their gate without her sister, she was wont to wander about the grounds by herself. The flower-garden was under her especial care. She was said to know, indeed, every flower which grew in it, and to point not only to any rose-tree which was named, but to each particular rose growing on it, with as much certainty as if she could see it before her.

A year had passed since the two spinster ladies had taken possession of Downside.

One morning, while Miss Pemberton had gone over to Texford, her sister was engaged, scissors in hand, in clipping the dead flower-stalks in front of the cottage.

“Good morning, Miss Mary,” said a voice. “Am I to leave any fish for you to-day?”