Mrs. Peckover

“ Valentine enters, leading in Mrs. Peckover and the deaf and dumb child, with such an air of supreme happiness, that he looks absolutely handsome for the moment. The rector, who is, in the best and noblest sense of the word, a gentleman, receives Mrs. Peckover as politely and cordially as he would have received the best lady in Rubbleford. Mrs. Joyce comes forward with him, very kind too, but a little reserved in her manner, nevertheless; being possibly apprehensive that any woman connected with the circus must be tainted with some slight flavor of Miss Florinda Beverley. ”

“ Joyce’s pardon for behaving like this; I’ll never do it again. Be quiet, all of you! I must take the child home with me—oh, Mrs. Peckover, don’t, don’t say no! I’ll make her as happy as the day is long. I’ve no child of my own: I’ll watch over her, and love her, and teach her all my life. I’ve got a poor, suffering, bedridden wife at home, who would think such a companion as little Mary the greatest blessing God could send her. My own dear, patient Lavvie! Oh, doctor, doctor! think how kind Lavvie would be to that afflicted little child; and try if you can’t make Mrs. Peckover consent. ”

“ Mrs. Joyce, and the young ladies, and the rector, all tried their best to console little Mary; and all failed. She resolutely, though very gently, resisted them; walking away into corners by herself, and looking constantly at her slate, as if she could only find comfort in reading the few words which Mrs. Peckover had written on it. At last, Mr. Blyth took her up on his knee. ”

“ Just when the mourners had grown noisily hilarious, testifying thereby to the respectability with which things were being conducted to the very end, Mrs. Peckover became aware of a knocking at the front door. She bade her daughter go and see who it was. Clem, speedily returning, beckoned her mother from among the guests.
‘It’s somebody wants to know if there ain’t somebody called Snowdon livin’ ’ere,’ she whispered in a tone of alarm. ‘An old man.’
Mrs. Peckover never drank more than was consistent with the perfect clearness of her brain. ”

“ Peckover was hurt by the completeness with which Clem had established her independence. To do the woman justice, she had been actuated, in her design of capturing Joseph Snowdon, at least as much by a wish to establish her daughter satisfactorily as by the ever- wakeful instinct which bade her seize whenever gain lay near her clutches. Clem was proving disloyal, had grown secretive. Mrs. Peckover did not look for any direct profit worth speaking of from the marriage she had brought about, but she did desire the joy of continuing to plot against Joseph with his wife. ”

“ Peckover. In the first place, there would be far more work than usual to be performed in the house today, and Jane could be ill spared. Worse than that, however. Clara Hewett, who was losing half a day's work on Jane's account, made a very emphatic statement as to the origin of the illness, and said that if anything happened to Jane, there would be disagreeable facts forthcoming at a coroner's inquest. Having looked at the sick child, Mrs. Peckover went downstairs and shut herself up with Clem. ”

“ The young ladies drop down into the most charming positions on either side of the child, and fall straightway into fits of ecstasy over her beauty. The dog walks up, and pokes his great honest muzzle among them companionably. Vance stands rigid against the wall, and disapproves strongly of the whole proceeding.
Poor Mrs. Peckover! She had never been in such a house as the Rectory, she had never spoken to a doctor of divinity before in her life. She was very hot and red and trembling, and made fearful mistakes in grammar, and clung as shyly to Mr. Blyth as if she had been a little girl. ”

“ Peckover thought, as he noticed the almost empty decanter, but he did not say so.
"Isn't he a fine fellow?" murmured Miss Leo, with an unwelcome approach to affectionate confidence. "Be nice to him and he'll soon take to you."
"He has soon taken to the sherry," was Peckover's mental commentary.
"Strong as a lion," said Lalage, waxing enthusiastic.
"And thirsty as a dozen," Peckover told himself.
"Carnaby, dear," his sister called sweetly, "I want you and Mr. Gage to be great friends. We are so already," she added caressingly to the unhappy Peckover; "more than friends, eh?" ”

“ Peckover, “it’s almost as great a surprise to me to be in London, as it is—Be quiet, young Good-for-Nothing; I won’t even shake hands with you if you don’t behave yourself!” These last words she addressed to Zack, whose favorite joke it had always been, from the day of their first acquaintance at Valentine’s house, to pretend to be violently in love with her. He was now standing with his arms wide open, the toasting-fork in one hand and the muffin he had burnt in the other, trying to look languishing, and entreating Mrs. Peckover to give him a kiss. ”

“ Peckover, in her most persuasive tones. “You may think it all a whim of mine, if you like—I dare say I’m an old fool; but I don’t want you to give her a Hair Bracelet.”
“A whim of yours!!!” repeated Zack, with a look which made Mrs. Peckover’s cheeks redden with rising indignation. “What! a woman at your time of life subject to whims! My darling Peckover, it won’t do! My mind’s made up to give her the Hair Bracelet. Nothing in the world can stop me—except, of course, Madonna’s having a Hair Bracelet already, which I know she hasn’t.” ”

“ What’s his name?”
“He says his name is Jubber, if you please, sir.”
Mrs. Peckover started from her chair with a scream. “Don’t—pray, for mercy’s sake, sir, don’t let him into the garden where Mary is!” she gasped, clutching Doctor Joyce by the arm in the extremity of her terror. “He’s found us out, and come here in one of his dreadful passions! He cares for nothing and for nobody, sir: he’s bad enough to ill-treat her even before you. What am I to do? ”

“ Gage was out riding one afternoon, exploring the roads and bridle-paths of the neighbourhood alone, for, since his adventure with Harlequin, Peckover had decided that life on five thousand a year was too precious to risk on horseback. He was jogging along a woodland road, turning over in his mind plans for the extraction of more fun than he was just then getting out of his purchased dignity, when suddenly a turn in the way gave him a glimpse of the well-known figures of the ladies from the Moat who did not exactly fit in with the distractions he was seeking. ”

“ I have always, I hope, valued the station to which it has pleased God to call me, because it especially offers me the privilege of being the friend of all my fellow-christians, whether richer or poorer, higher or lower in worldly rank, than am myself.”
Mrs. Peckover’s eyes began to fill. She could have worshipped Doctor Joyce at that moment.
“Mr. Blyth!” exclaimed Mrs. Joyce, sharply, before another word could be spoken—“excuse me, Mr. Blyth; but really—”
Valentine was trying to pour out a glass of sherry for Mrs. Peckover. ”

“ Blyth artfully contrived to lead Mrs. Peckover past them into a recess at the extreme end of the room.
“Well,” he said, speaking in an unnecessarily soft whisper, considering the distance which now separated him from Zack. “Well, I suppose you’re quite sure of not having let out anything by chance, since I last saw you, about how you first met with our darling girl? or about her poor mother? or—?”
“What, you’re at it again, sir,” interrupted Mrs. Peckover loftily, but dropping her voice in imitation of Mr. Blyth,—“a clever man, too, like you! Dear, dear me! ”

“ But his quicker-witted sister was already at hand to cover his confusion. "Carnaby will have his joke," she exclaimed laughing loudly. "You see?" she demanded suddenly of Peckover, effectually dispelling the amusement which was gathering on his face, "he is a man of action," she continued with grim significance. "Cares for nobody, except his sister. And he won't see her made a fool of." Then, having beaten Peckover into retreating from too close an inspection of her brother's real state of mind, she turned, caught the sprawling fighter by the collar, and pushed him to his feet. ”

“ In one word, the home to which he is ready to take her, is a home of love and happiness and security, in the best and purest meaning of those words.”
“Don’t say any more, sir! Don’t break my heart by making me part with her!”
“You will live, Mrs. Peckover, to thank me for trying your fortitude as I try it now. Hear me a little longer, while I tell you what terms Mr. Blyth proposes. He is not only willing but anxious—if you give the child into his charge—that you should have access to her whenever you like. ”

“ Vance gloomily departed.
“Now the young people have left us, Mrs. Peckover,” said Doctor Joyce, turning to the clown’s wife, “there is a good opportunity for my making a proposition to you, on behalf of my old and dear friend here, Mr. Blyth, who, as you must have noticed, feels great sympathy and fondness for your little Mary. ”

“ That's not my idea of fun."
"Lalage is a fine figure of a woman," Peckover continued. "Make an imposing Lady Quorn. Fine mover; takes the drawing-room in three, including anything that stands in the way. The coronet would suit her better if she'd let her hair grow."
"Crops her hair short?" Gage enquired, in a tone of infinite disgust at the picture.
Peckover nodded. "Bit too much of the dragoon for our taste, my boy. You stop in bed, and let me try to get rid of them."
"I won't stop in bed," returned Gage. "Where are these brutes?"
"Sent 'em down to The Pigeons," Peckover answered. ”

“ A better an’ kinder woman than Mrs. Hewett you wouldn’t find, not if you was to—’
With difficulty the stranger obtained a few details of the origin and course of the illness—details wholly misleading, but devised to reassure. When he desired to see Jane, Mrs. Peckover assumed an air of perfect willingness, but reminded him that she had nothing save his word to prove that he had indeed a legitimate interest in the girl.
‘I can do no more than tell you that Joseph James Snowdon was my younger son,’ replied the old man simply. ”

“ Between them, with much puffing and wheezy mutterings, they carried out the limp form, and as the door closed upon them Peckover's air of lofty indifference fell from him as a garment, and resting his elbows on his knees and bowing his head on his hands he collapsed into a state of utter fear and misery. ”

“ Instantly Peckover remembered Quorn's amateur bush-ranger.
"You're from New South Wales?" he faltered.
"Wrong," the other declared cheerfully. "You're not quite as good at guessing as yours truly. I'm from Tasmania, I'm proud and happy to say."
It struck Peckover that the dapper, well-knit man with the keen hustler's face set in straight black hair could hardly be Quorn's bully. He could not quite imagine the man before him spending even his leisure time in trying feats of strength on his long-suffering neighbours who chanced to displease him, to say nothing of cattle and fire-irons. ”

“ But I mean to do that much for her; and no other man shall stir a finger to help me.”
Roughly as it was spoken, this speech made Mrs. Peckover feel easier about Madonna’s prospects. The hard-featured man was, after all, not so hard-hearted as she had thought him at first. She even ventured to begin questioning him again, as they walked together towards Dawson’s Buildings.
He varied very much in his manner of receiving her inquiries, replying to some promptly enough, and gruffly refusing, in the plainest terms, to give a word of answer to others. ”

“ Peckover suggested, still unsatisfied.
"Other people can kiss besides the police," Miss Popkiss declared, with a toss of the head, too exasperated by the banal suggestion to deny the act.
Peckover began to think it was all right. "So they can, my poppet, so they can," he exclaimed more cheerfully, regarding the young lady with a leer which owed much of its empressement to the champagne. ”

“ Gage retorted.
"If you don't, you'll have to," replied Peckover with truth underlying paradox. "A fortnight of the downy is better than six months of the plank."
"What, stop here for a fortnight?" Gage cried wrathfully. "It's a regular take in. A rollicking time I'm having for my money; cold-shouldered, half-drowned, and now tucked up in this beastly bed for weeks. Where does Lord Quorn come in?"
"Lord Quorn," observed Peckover sententiously, "will go out if Mr. Carnaby Leo gets hold of him. ”

“ Peckover’s.”
(“Not a morsel of my hair shall go towards the bracelet!” muttered Mrs. Peckover, who was listening to what was said, while she went on playing.)
“The difficult hair to bring in, will be mine and Valentine’s,” pursued Zack. “Mine’s long enough, to be sure; I ought to have got it cut a month ago; but it’s so stiff and curly; and Blyth keeps his cropped so short—I don’t see what they can do with it (do you?) , unless they make rings, or stars, or knobs, or something stumpy, in the way of a cross pattern of it.”
“The people at the shop will know best,” said Mrs. ”

“ Peckover took part. The old man, he remarked, was devilish close; it looked as if “some game was on.” Mrs. Peckover ridiculed this remark; of course there was a game on; she spoke of Sidney Kirkwood, the influence he had obtained over Snowdon, the designs he was obviously pursuing. If Joseph thought he would recover his rights, at this time of day, save by direct measures, it only proved how needful it was for him to be instructed by shrewd people. The old man was a hard nut to crack; why he lived in Hanover Street, and sent Jane to work, when it was certain that he had wealth at command, Mrs. ”