Mrs. Murray

“ Miss Murray is tall, with a willowy figure, a round, infantile face, with wondering blue eyes, a dimpled chin, a rather wide mouth, but the lips are exquisitely curved and smiling; not a regular beauty, but possessing much piquant loveliness and the peculiar gift of interesting you at once. ”

“ Norah Murray had a circle of young men about her, who laughed rapturously at her sallies. She wore her chain and a new rhinestone brooch and all her rings. She looked very handsome with her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. She raised her voice to be heard above the din. Mrs. Murray’s new bonnet nodded its red roses and black ostrich tips among the lace handkerchiefs and embroidery of the fancy table—she being enthroned on the step-ladder for lack of other seat—and her delighted eyes ran from her daughter to the voting blackboard. ”

“ Murray politely, 'not more than most of them I hef seen from your country; but surely it cannot be so healthy as other places; the young ladies are so thin and delicate-looking whatever; many a one I would like to hef kept here for a while—for more friendly young ladies I never met with anywhere—just to see what the mountain air and the sweet milk would do for her.'
'Well, then, Mrs. Murray, you will have the chance of trying your doctoring on my daughter when she comes up here a few weeks hence ”

“ She loves to have me, and it is my one idea of blessedness and comfort and rest.”
Her voice was agitated almost to tears, and she had dropped her work and clasped her hands together with a piteousness of appeal.
“No one will hinder you, Christine,” he said. “Mrs. Murray is made better and brighter and happier by your presence every day, and it would be only the greatest grief to her to part with you. This is your sure and safe and certain home as long as she lives, unless, of your own choice, you should choose to change it.” ”

“ Murray! dear friend!"
For some moments they stood locked in a warm embrace, and as Felix limped out of the room he heard his governess sobbing.
Mrs. Murray held the girl at arm's length, and as she looked at the wan, thin face, she exclaimed:
"My poor Edna! my dear little girl! why did not you tell me you were ill? You are a mere ghost of your former self. My child, why did you not come home long ago? I should have been here a month earlier, but was detained by Estelle's marriage." ”

“ Oh, well, life was a disappointment anyway, whichever way you turned. Now here was Murray! What a bitter disappointment he was! Just when he might have been a comfort. Of course there was a slight possibility of his being injured somehow, but if he had been able to take a girl to the hospital he couldn’t have been very badly off. No, he was probably off with the fellows somewhere having a good time, or off with his Countess, or his latest fancy! What a son! But he must do his duty as a father, anyhow. So Murray’s new car was smashed! That was probably the reason Murray did not come home. ”

“ Murray's wistful remark than the latter had intended to convey, and she began to fear that her new-found niece, in addition to being odd mannered and hasty tempered, was a thoroughly selfish young person into the bargain.
Mrs. Murray seemed to guess her thoughts.
"Now," she exclaimed in genuine distress, "I have given you a wrong impression of the dear girl. I like her to be enthusiastic about her work. It is only right that she should be. And, as I say, she did not come here to amuse and entertain a deaf old woman like myself. ”

“ Murray put his arm around Edna, and drew her face to his bosom.
"Darling, do you remember that once, in the dark days of my reckless sinfulness, I asked you one night, in the library at Le Bocage, if you had no faith in me? And you repeated so vehemently, 'None, Mr. Murray!'"
"Oh, sir! do not think of it. Why recur to what is so painful and so long past? Forgive those words and forget them! Never was more implicit faith, more devoted affection, given to any human being than I give now to you, Mr. Murray; you, who are my first and my last and my only love." ”

“ No wonder I wished that I could have spent the Easter holidays with Mrs Murray. But a great surprise [98] was in store for me. The boys had hardly concluded the game of football they had been carrying on during my colloquy with Jemmy, when Mrs Murray came smiling down the playground in search of me.
‘I’ve a piece of news for you, Master Vere,’ she exclaimed. ‘Some one is waiting to see you in the parlour.’
‘Not papa!’ I said, quickly. ”

“ I beseech thee, I implore thee, by the ties of consanguinity that connect us, by the duty ye owe to me as thy sovereign, to spare his life!"
"You know not what you ask, madam," replied Murray, stalking up and down the apartment. "How can his life be spared consistently with your honour? Save him, and you will set a thousand slanderous tongues a-wagging. It may not, must not, be."
Mary herself could not deny the force of this remark, and, finding she had nothing to oppose to it, she flung herself into a chair, and again burst into tears. ”

“ Murray at once.
[Pg 23]
"There is no use losing the chance through any foolish delay," she said to herself.
Two days later she was able to tell her aunt that all was settled. Mrs. Murray had written to her niece, Mrs. Marton, and had already got her answer. She and her husband would gladly take charge of the children as far as Paris, and her maid, a very nice French girl, who adored little people, would look after them in every way—not the slightest need to engage a nurse for them for the journey, as they would be met by their father on their arrival. ”

“ Murray assert that she was the most dangerous coquette within his experience. Mr. Murray, who had a sound though uncultivated taste for pretty girls, succumbed to her charms, while George Strong, whose good nature was very like her own, never tired of drawing her out and enjoying her comments on the new life about her.
"What kind of a revolver do you carry?" asked George, gravely, at his first interview with her; "do you like yours heavy, or say a 32 ball?"
"Don't mind him, Catherine," said Mrs. Murray; "he is always making poor jokes." ”

“ But Murray wouldn't. He had the same kind of mind as Amy and Ethel. He did not like robust and hearty things or robust and hearty people. He wore a corset to keep his hips small, and stood up at teas and receptions with an almost military carriage. Of course he had to sit down at dinners, but he sat very straight. He, too, had family portraits and family silver, and he lived scrupulously up to them. His fortunes, unlike the Merrymans', had not declined. He had money enough and to spare. He could have made Amy or Ethel very comfortable if he had married either of them. ”

“ Here he remained until 1796, playing a great variety of parts, including King John, Osmyn, Adam in 'As you like it,' Sir Peter Teazle, Old Dornton in the 'Road to Ruin.' Mrs. Murray was occasionally seen, and on 1 July 1793, for the benefit of her father and of her mother, who played Queen Elinor, his daughter, subsequently Mrs. H. Siddons, made as Prince Arthur her first appearance on any stage. She subsequently played Titania, and on Mrs. Murray's final benefit in Bath on 19 May 1796, Fine Lady in Garrick's 'Lethe.' On this occasion Murray spoke a farewell address. ”

“ He confided in Murray that he was saving for a car, just a little coupé, he couldn’t afford anything else yet, but it would be nice for Elizabeth to take the baby out in. There was a nice eager domestic air about him that was different from anything Murray had experienced among his young men friends, even the married ones. He did not remember that any of them had babies, or if they had they did not speak about them. They were tucked away somewhere with their nurses out of sight till they should be old enough to burst upon the world full-fledged in athletics or society. ”

“ She flashed from languor into a mood of vivid irony. Her lips curled, her eyes opened wide with a dancing beryl-coloured flame behind them, and her eyebrows arched in a sublime disdain.
‘You didn’t send him?’ she asked
‘I?’ said Paul, with a guilty stammer—’ I—send him?’
‘Now, before you lie,’ said Annette, with a tragic gesture of the hand, ‘hear me. The window of our dressing-room happens—just happens, by God’s providence to confute a fool—to command a view of Dr. Laurent’s door. I saw you go in; I could even hear you knock. Do you think you can deceive me? ”

“ She meant to be the last found, and to elude Murray as long as she could, a very girlish feeling having taken possession of her that the time to run away is the time when you see somebody looking uncommonly as if he would like to be with you. Although she longed to hear the outcome of the conference in the library, she was somehow just a little afraid of the new Murray, and it was with a delightful sense of exhilaration that she made her quick and quiet way up a third flight of stairs to one of Shirley's haunts in an unused portion of the regions under the eaves. ”

“ He lectured through the winter, against his strength, attracting both students and literary men to his room. His health completely gave way in the spring, and he died of consumption at Edinburgh 15 April 1813, leaving his widow and a son and daughter. Mrs. Murray survived about twelve years, supported by a government pension of 80l., which had been granted to her in return for Murray's translation of the Abyssinian letter. ”

“ Murray was obliged to retreat to her own room. The increasing frequency of these attacks furnished her with an excellent reason for withdrawing herself from society almost entirely. She was not strong enough to entertain company. She was not strong enough even to attend church habitually. Her strength must all be given to her house and her table, for she was one of those housekeepers who consider economy out of place here; the cakes and pies and knick-knacks were counted a necessity, as well as more substantial food. Don't say Mr. Murray should not have chosen such a wife. ”

“ A NARRATIVE OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE. By T. W. ATKINSON. Author of “ORIENTAL and WESTERN SIBERIA.” With Map and numerous Illustrations. (In the Press.)
SIXTEEN YEARS OF AN ARTIST’S LIFE IN MOROCCO, SPAIN, AND THE CANARY ISLANDS. By MRS. ELIZABETH MURRAY. 2 vols. 8vo. with Coloured Illustrations.
“Mrs. Murray, wife, we believe, of the English Consul at Teneriffe, is one of the first of female English Water Colour Artists. She draws well, and her colour is bright, pure, transparent, and sparkling. Her book is like her painting, luminous, rich and fresh. ”

“ Murray, who saw you enter this house on Sunday afternoon with a paper package under your arm, and when you left you carried no package and were so agitated that you weren’t even conscious of bumping into Mrs. Murray as you hurried down the street toward Washington. ”

“ Murray was a pattern housekeeper, a model of neatness. Everything in her house shone, from the parlour windows to the kitchen stove. Her cake was always light, her bread sweet. No table could compare with hers for delicious variety. Her housekeeping was a fine art, before which everything else was made to bow. Her parlour was made most attractive in all its appointments, and everything that goes to make a pleasant home was lavishly supplied by her husband; yet a more uncomfortable family it would be hard to find. ”

“ To his mother he could always write about the books which were interesting him, with full reliance on her sympathy, though indeed, he does not often say very much about literature.
Till 1869 he lived in various parts of New England, his father being a Unitarian minister. ‘He was a remarkably cheerful and affectionate child, and seldom seemed to find anything to trouble him.’ In 1869 his father carried him to England, Mrs. Murray and a child remaining in America. ”

“ His whole heart smote him with self-scorn, with pity, with remorse.
‘You are not dying, dear Annette,’ he said; ‘you will live, and we shall love each other a thousand times better than we have ever done before, because this fear of yours has broken the ice between us.’
‘No, Paul,’ she answered. Her arms fell languidly on the counterpane. ‘I shall not live, but promise me that. Let me die happy. Tu sais, chéri, que ma mère est morte. Je voudrais encontrer ma mère au ciel, comme fille honnête, ne c’est pas? Ah! pour l’amour de Dieu, Paul!’
‘My darling,’ he answered, ‘I’ll do it! ”

“ Murray came bustling in, his whole face full of importance.
"Mrs. Clair, I've called to ask you all to spend Christmas with me at a country house. I'm a lonely old man, with no near relations and few friends; but I like young people about me whose hearts are gay and green, even though circumstances may have aged their heads a little. I like the boys; I like the demure little maiden; I like you. Will you all come and cheer up a lonely old man for a week?"
"I shall be delighted indeed, Mr. Murray; and I can answer for each one of the children, if the boys can only get so long a holiday. ”

“ Paul stooped for the ring as it rolled to his feet, and bestowed it in his pocket.
‘You and Laurent,’ cried Annette, ‘have conspired to kill me. Oh, I know you both! but if there is justice in earth or heaven, I will have it Do not think because I am a woman and alone that I can find no protector. ”

“ What was going to happen, at any rate, was that Murray would show himself as beautifully and consciously understanding—and it would be prodigious that Europe should have inoculated him with that delicacy. Yes, he wouldn't claim to know now till she had told him—an aid to performance he had surely never before waited for, or been indebted to, from any one; and then, so knowing, he would charmingly endeavor to "meet," to oblige and to gratify. He would find it, her case, ever so worthy of his benevolence, and would be literally inspired to reflect that he must hear about it first. ”