Won from the Waves

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Maiden May, on finding herself alone with Miss Mary, at once went up, with a confidence she might not have felt with a person not deprived of sight as the kind lady was, and took her hand.

“Mother told me to ask whether you would like me to lead you about the garden. May I do so?”

“I should like you to lead me about very much, though I think I know my way pretty well. But you must stop whenever you come to a flower you admire, and I will tell you its name, and you must describe to me anything else you see—birds or butterflies or other insects. As my eyes are blind, you must use yours instead of them for my benefit.”

“Oh, yes, Miss Mary; I will try and do what you say,” exclaimed May, delighted to find that she could be of use to the blind lady. A new existence seemed suddenly opened out to her. The gentle and refined tone of voice of Miss Mary sounded pleasing to her ear, although she did not understand all that she said, her language was so different to that she had been accustomed to hear used in the fisherman’s cottage.

Then she was delighted with the new and beautiful flowers, and her wonder was excited when she found that they all had names, and that Miss Mary, though blind, could tell their colours and describe them so perfectly. Miss Mary also told her the names of the birds whose notes they heard as they walked about the grounds, and May in return described with a minuteness which surprised her blind friend a number of objects both animate and inanimate which she thought would interest her, while she asked a variety of questions which, though exhibiting her ignorance, showed a large amount of intelligence and desire to obtain information. The child was evidently natural and thoroughly unaffected, without either timidity or rustic bashfulness. She had, indeed, been treated with uniform kindness, and with even a certain amount of respect, which the fisherman and his family could not help feeling for her. Though the dame had not failed in endeavouring to correct any faults she might have exhibited, yet she had done so with that gentleness and firmness which made the little girl sensible that her kind protectress did so for her benefit alone. The dame found the task a very easy one, for Maiden May rarely required a rebuke.

Still, though her voice was gentle, the child had caught the idiom and pronunciation of the fisherman’s family; but even in that respect there was a natural refinement in the tone of her voice; and as Adam was a God-fearing man, and had brought up his sons to fear God also, no coarse language or objectionable expressions were ever heard in his cottage. Indeed, more true refinement is oftener found among the lower classes where religious principles exist than is generally supposed.

Miss Mary, after walking till she was tired, invited her young guest into the house. Luncheon was placed on the table; Susan attended her mistress and placed delicacies before May such as she had never before tasted. In spite, however, of Susan’s pressing invitations to take more, she ate but sparingly, to the surprise of the kind woman, who thought that the little fisher-girl would have done more justice to the good things offered her.

“She has quite a young lady’s appetite,” she observed afterwards to Miss Mary.

“That is not surprising, for a young lady she is, depend on that. It will be a grievous pity if her relatives are not to be found,” was the answer.

After luncheon, Miss Mary got out a book and placed it before May, and begged her to read from it. By the way May endeavoured to spell out the words Miss Mary discovered that she had made but very little progress in her education.