Won from the Waves

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Mr Groocock says there are to be grand doings at the hall in honour of Mr Harry’s return from sea,” continued the dame. “All the tenantry are to be invited, and the labourers and tradesmen and workpeople from Morbury, and the fishermen too from Hurlston; and he made me promise to come and to bring my daughter, for he always calls you my daughter, May, and seems to forget what I once told him, for I am sure I did tell him all about you, though in truth you are my daughter, if a mother’s love can make you one.”

“I trust that I always shall enjoy that love,” said May, taking the dame’s hand. “I think I should like to go with you to Texford if the ladies do not object, for they certainly will not go. Miss Mary would not like the crowd, which I suppose there will be, and indeed it is possible that they may not quite approve of such proceedings; besides which, Sir Ralph and Lady Castleton have never asked them to the hall since they took possession, though her ladyship once called at Downside and left her card, but when Miss Jane returned the visit she was not admitted, and has not felt disposed to call again.”

“But the ladies must remember Mr Harry, as they were staying with Sir Reginald when he was last there, and Mr Groocock says that he was as great a favourite with them as he was with everybody, so perhaps for the sake of seeing him, if they are asked, they may be persuaded to go,” remarked the dame.

“Not if they consider it wrong to give such a fête,” answered May. “I am uncertain of the opinion they will form. I cannot myself think it wrong to afford amusement to a number of people from whom they cannot expect to receive the slightest benefit in return.”

“Well, if you don’t go with the ladies, May, I hope you will come with me. I should have little pleasure by myself; if I was to see you liking it I should be pleased also. You need not go and dance in the crowd. I should not wish to see you do that, even if you were really my daughter; but as you are a young lady, and there is no doubt about that, it would not be proper for you to mix with any but young ladies, and that, perhaps as you would not know any of those present, you would not wish to do.”

“No, indeed,” answered May. “It is strange that I should never in my life have spoken to a young lady, and I have no notion, except from the descriptions given in Miss Burney’s novels, of the way young ladies in general behave, or speak, or think. I should be terribly afraid of them if they are like some of the heroines whose histories I have met with in ‘Evelina and Cecilia,’ which I have read to Miss Mary, and in a new story she has lately had sent to her, called ‘Camilla,’ but I have not finished it yet.”

“I don’t know what sort of young ladies are put into books; but you need not be at all afraid of anyone, May, I am sure of that,” observed the dame. “I have known several young ladies in my time. There was poor Miss Ellen Castleton, and three very nice girls who all married well at another house where I was in service, and they could not have held a candle to you, that they couldn’t; but I must not say that for fear of making you vain, my dear. Just do you feel what is true, that you are equal to any of them and that will make you comfortable and at home. However, as Mr Harry has not come home and the day is not yet fixed, there will be time to talk about it; only if the ladies say anything just tell them that I should be so much obliged if they would let you go, and that I will take good care of you, and you shall come to no harm or do anything they won’t like.”

May gladly promised, for she felt curious to see Texford, since she had only a very faint recollection of the place.

As evening was approaching she wished her foster-parents good-bye. Just as she left the house Jacob came up from the boat. She greeted him in her usual unaffected way, but he seemed even less at his ease than he had been of late when he met her.

“Brother Jacob,” said May, “I am so glad you are come. I wanted to ask you to collect me some shells, as many as you can find time to gather; not all winkles and cockles, remember, but as great a variety as possible. The ladies have a fancy for making a grotto in the garden, and I have undertaken to adorn the inside with shapes of all sorts of strange creatures to be formed with the shells. They will, I am sure, gladly pay you for your trouble, and I shall be much obliged to you if you can get them as soon as possible.”