Lady Lucy

“ Lady Lucy was young,—only a little past eleven years old,—and small for her age: nevertheless, she was the rightful heir of the splendid room in which she now sat, with its heavy carved furniture, its worked tapestry hangings, and inlaid cabinets,—of the fine old house, Stanton Court,—of the lovely gardens and shrubbery which lay stretched before the windows, and the beautiful park, and many a farm and moorland besides. ”

“ She called her a liar and an outlandish witch. No, Polly: I can't. I do hate her, and I always shall."
"But, Lady Lucy, what will become of you when you die, if you go on so?" argued Dulcie. "You know you cannot go to heaven unless you do forgive your enemies and are in charity with all men; and you know your mamma is in heaven," she added, in a low voice.
"And you cannot go to heaven unless God forgives you, either," added Polly. "You know we all do a great many wrong things, that need to be forgiven."
Lucy thought of the thimble lying under the aloe-leaf on the terrace. ”

“ I may just as well play while I can."
"'Tis true what the child says," remarked Anne, the housemaid, as Margery looked grave: "my mistress has left her marking and open-hem enough for a grown woman, besides all her other tasks,—more shame to her, I say, to have no feeling for her own flesh and blood! Never mind, Lady Lucy: I will take hold of it when my work is done, and you shall have one good play. But you must mind and wear your gloves and your hood, and not break your nails and scratch your hands with the brambles, or my mistress will find you out." ”

“ The maids at the parsonage had gossiped, of course, as well as the milkmaid at the Grange. Every one in the village knew that Lady Lucy's father had found his daughter locked in an upper room alone, with nothing to eat but a crust of brown bread,—some said, not even that,—and had taken her away without seeing his sister or waiting for his child's clothes to be packed up. ”

“ She was very silent for the rest of the evening, and did not seem disposed to listen to Anne's gossip as usual, but sat knitting on the stocking which she had begun the day before, now and then glancing at the Bible which lay open before her at the ninety-first Psalm.
Anne thought she was getting it by heart.
"How loud the sea roars!" said Lucy. "I haven't heard it so loud since we came here."
"There is going to be a storm," replied Anne. "See there is a flash already! Mercy on me, Lady Lucy! What shall we do if there is a thunder-storm?" ”

“ To Lucy’s home, to nurse her back to life
Or down to death. She knew by such an act,
All place and grace were forfeit in the house,
Whose mistress would supply the missing hand
With necessary, not inhuman haste,
And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:
She could not leave a solitary soul
To founder in the dark, while she sate still
And lavished stitches on a lady’s hem
As if no other work were paramount.
‘Why, God,’ thought Marian, ‘has a missing hand
This moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps. ”

“ Corbet does for her. Come, Lady Lucy; we must be on our way, if we are going to the village."
"Are you going across the common?" asked Mary Bolton. "You had better take the path through the plantation, I think. The gipsies on the common, and my little lady might be frightened."
"Gipsies?" asked Lucy, looking a little scared.
"Yes; and a wild lot they do look, to be sure. They say the old women are witches; and all the girls in the village are agog to have their fortunes told."
"Don't you be scared, Lady Lucy," said Anne. "They won't meddle with us, I dare say. ”

“ I do want to pray for him," said Lucy, with a trembling voice. "It seems to be all the comfort there is, when I think of him in the midst of the swords and cannon balls, or perhaps lying on the ground wounded under the horses' feet, like that poor soldier in the great picture down-stairs: but what is the use of my praying, if I am inclining to wickedness with my heart all the time?"
"These are grave thoughts for a little lady like you," said Anne, not altogether at ease in her own mind. "I am sure the parson could not say all that any better. ”

“ Never had Lucy's eyes beheld so handsome a woman, or such a hat, with its black ostrich feathers, clasped at the side by a diamond buckle that flashed rainbow light in the sunshine. The glancing sheen of the pale grey gown, the long gloves drawn to the elbow under deep ruffles of Flemish lace, the diamond cross sparkling between the folds of Cyprus gauze that veiled the corsage, the tout-ensemble of a fine lady's toilette, filled Mrs. Stobart with wonder. Wholly unconscious of the impression she had made on the wife, Antonia addressed herself to the husband with an earnest countenance. ”

“ Did Anne dress you?"
"No, Cousin Debby: I dressed myself. I did not think it was any harm," said poor Lucy, who was so used to being blamed, whatever she did, that she was by no means sure she had not committed a grave offense in being her own dressing-maid.
"There is no harm in that, my child. I am glad to have you learn to do every thing for yourself; but you must be neat and careful about it, and try always to look like a lady. I suppose, however, you were in a great hurry to find your thimble: so I will excuse you this time. ”

“ Lucy—good, gentle, little Lucy, beloved by her form mistress and respected by all the school—sat on those steps—I don't know why no one caught her—and used her catapult to throw ink pellets (you know what they are, of course) with her catapult at the beautiful white statue-lady, till the Venus—if that is her name, which I doubt—was all over black spots, like a Dalmation or carriage dog. ”

“ Lucy and Lady Emily, each made happy in the great object of woman's heart—love, only exchanged residences.
Lucy's life was a long and bountiful blessing to her fellow-creatures. Her feelings were never contracted within the narrow circle of her own class, but embraced the great one of general humanity. She acted upon the noble principle of receiving from God the ample gifts of wealth and position, not for the purpose of wasting them in expensive and selfish enjoyments, but for that of causing them to diffuse among her fellow-creatures the greatest possible portion of happiness. ”

“ Lucy. No, indeed, Sir—But I'm certain, an old Man's Business can't be great. [Aside.
Piz. [Gives her a Looking-glass.] Here, Child, this will tell thee—Look in't, look in't, I say——Ah! ah! thou hast a pretty pouting Lip, a delicate roguish Eye, such an Ogle, such a Cast——Ah! Rogue——Faith, thou'rt very pretty: And, in short, if any one rival thy Lady, it will be thee, Lucy——Egad, I have Fire in me, yet.
Lucy, aside. O' my Conscience, and little too. I believe: Yet I wish he has enough to serve my Ends. I'll make my Fortune——Lord, Sir, what do you mean? I rival my Lady! Heaven forbid ”

“ No, indeed! We meet at home, and out of doors," said Lucy; "my friend Annie and I walk together."
"Walk together! what, in the street? Shocking! You cannot be a lady."
"Indeed I am," said Lucy, coloring up. "My papa is a gentleman. And see how many books we have, and how much we have to learn! French, and music, and sums, and grammar, and history, and geography."
"I WILL not be a Frank! No, no! I will not learn," said the alarmed Amina on hearing this catalogue poured forth.
"Geography is very nice," said Lucy; "here are our maps. I will show you where you live. ”

“ She caught the word "thimble," and easily guessed that Lucy had lost something of that sort.
"I can tell what has happened lately, too," she continued, in a mysterious tone. "I can see what is lost, and where it lies, shining like silver and gold, fit for a lady's finger when she is working for her true lover. Only cross the poor gipsy's hand with silver, and you shall see. As for you," she added, looking at Anne with a penetrating glance, "you have lately had a rise in life, and shall soon have another and there is a stout lad abroad at the wars who shall bring home a gold ring some day." ”

“ The gipsy told Anne a fine fortune, and sent her off greatly pleased. Lucy, however, was not so well satisfied. She knew instinctively that Cousin Deborah would never let her go to meet the gipsy-woman, and that she must do so by stealth, if at all. Here was a new labyrinth of deceit opening upon her.
"Oh, what a tangled web we weave
When first we practise to deceive!"
These lines were not written in Lady Lucy's day, or she might have remembered them. She had made a resolution that she would never tell another lie ”

“ But, Lucy," she added, seriously, detaining the little girl a moment, "if you really wish to be good, you must ask the help of your heavenly Father to make you so. Ask him to put his Spirit in your heart and make you love him. That is the only way to be good and happy, in this world or the next. Now go and take your ride, and see how many pleasant things you will have to tell me when you come home."
"I don't believe any one in the world is so good as my cousin Deborah," said Lucy to Anne. ”

“ Burgess. "Mrs. Bernard has ever been counted an honourable woman, though somewhat stern and severe, especially with children. I have often pitied Lady Lucy, and would willingly have made her acquaintance, that she might amuse herself with companions of her own age; but her aunt has repelled all our advances. It may be that my good wife and myself have erred is the opposite direction, and allowed too much liberty to our young flock. ”

“ Everybody calls, and admires little Mary—how she has grown, and what a charming little princess she is; and they all remind my lady, with tender reproach, of those parties they enjoyed so much. ‘Are we never to have any more, dear Lady Denzil?’ Lucy Stoke asked the other day, kneeling at my lady’s side, and caressing her soft old ivory-white hand. My lady—to whom her tender old beauty, her understanding of everybody’s trouble, even the rose-tint in her cheek, have come back again—made no answer, but only kissed pretty Lucy. ”

“ Only one lady was in it besides herself; some one travelling from London. They looked at each other with some curiosity, sitting face to face. It was but natural; both were young, both were beautiful.
"What lovely hair! and what charming blue eyes! and what a bright delicate complexion!" thought Lucy. "I wonder who she is."
"I have never in all my life seen so sweet a face!" thought the other traveller. "Her eyes are beautiful: and there's, such a loving sadness in them! And what a handsome dress!--what style altogether!"
Lucy's dress was a rich silk, pearl grey in colour; her bonnet white ”

“ Polly and Dulcie were strong, healthy, high-spirited girls, and, with their warm hearts and truthful ways, were as good companions as could be found for the poor, crushed, reserved little lady. So Cousin Debby thought; and she resolved to encourage a friendship between them. They gave Lucy a warm welcome, and did their best to entertain her,—showing her their gardens, the grotto which they were ornamenting with shell-work after the fashion of the time, and finally took her into the meadow, to show her Polly's little hornless cow, which was as tame and almost as playful as a kitten. ”

“ They were taught to sit and stand very upright, to carry their arms carefully, to turn out their toes and hold up their heads. No stooping was permitted over books or work; and while Lady Lucy was living with her aunt Bernard, she used to have a bunch of knitting-needles stuck into her bodice, to keep her from "poking" over her work. ”

“ I don't like filling a young head with such things, for my part. Time enough when you grow an old lady, like Mrs. Corbet."
"Perhaps I shall never live to be an old lady like Mrs. Corbet," said Lucy: "and the French soldiers will not wait for me to grow up, to shoot at my dear papa."
"And that is true, too," said Anne. "Well, my dear, I am sure I am glad you find comfort in the Bible, and I would be the last one to oppose you. I remember when my poor sister was in the waste of which she died; after her sweetheart was drowned in the fishing-boat, the Bible was her only comfort. ”

“ He did not mean marriage. That was quite evident to Lady Fawn;—and her dear Lucy was revelling in hopes which would make her miserable. If Lucy could only have known of the letter, which was already her own property though lying in the pillar letter-box in Fleet Street, and which had not already been sent down and delivered simply because it was Sunday morning! But she was very brave. "He does love me," she said. "He told me so."
"Oh, Lucy;—that is worse and worse. A man to tell you that he loves you, and yet not ask you to be his wife!" ”

“ Burgess is not afraid of her, you see," said Lucy. "He called her an impostor, and said he meant to drive her out of the parish. I will have nothing more to do with her; of that I am resolved, come what will."
"Then you will lose the knife as well as the thimble," said Anne: "and what will your cousin say to that?"
"I fear she will be very angry, but I cannot help that," replied Lucy. "I am not going to do any more wrong things if I can help it. One lie just leads to another, and so on, till there is no end to them." ”

“ While William was thus developing his life-work and weaving his intellectual robes, Lucy was growing into her charming womanhood amid the happy surroundings of her home in North Wales, and evolving the noblest of characters through self-denial and loving devotion to others. As a girl she was highly educated. When past her girlhood she proved a handsome and cultured lady, sought in marriage by at least two men, both of whose offers she refused, but neither of whom espoused any other. ”