CHAPTER XLVIII
Catherine was in dismay when she reflected that Gerard must reach homein another month at farthest, more likely in a week; and how should shetell him she had not even kept an eye upon his betrothed? Then there wasthe uncertainty as to the girl's fate; and this uncertainty sometimestook a sickening form.
"Oh, Kate," she groaned, "if she should have gone and made herselfaway!"
"Mother, she would never be so wicked."
"Ah, my lass, you know not what hasty fools young lasses be, that haveno mothers to keep 'em straight. They will fling themselves into thewater for a man that the next man they meet would ha' cured 'em of in aweek. I have known 'em to jump in like brass one moment and scream forhelp in the next. Couldn't know their own minds ye see even about sucha trifle as yon. And then there's times when their bodies ail like noother living creatures ever I could hear of, and that strings up theirfeelings so, the patience, that belongs to them at other times beyondall living souls barring an ass, seems all to jump out of 'em atone turn, and into the water they go. Therefore, I say that men aremonsters."
"Mother!"
"Monsters, and no less, to go making such heaps o' canals just to temptthe poor women in. They know we shall not cut our throats, hating thesight of blood and rating our skins a hantle higher nor our lives; andas for hanging, while she is a fixing of the nail and a making of thenoose she has time t' alter her mind. But a jump into a canal is no morethan into bed; and the water it does all the lave, will ye, nill ye.Why, look at me, the mother o' nine, wasn't I agog to make a hole in ourcanal for the nonce?"
"Nay, mother, I'll never believe it of you."
"Ye may, though. 'Twas in the first year of our keeping house together.Eli hadn't found out my weak stitches then, nor I his; so we made arent, pulling contrariwise; had a quarrel. So then I ran crying, to tellsome gabbling fool like myself what I had no business to tell out o'doors except to the saints, and there was one of our precious canals inthe way; do they take us for teal? Oh, how tempting it did look! Says Ito myself, 'Sith he has let me go out of his door quarrelled, he shallsee me drowned next, and then he will change his key. He will blubbera good one, and I shall look down from heaven' (I forgot I should be int'other part), 'and see him take on, and oh, but that will be sweet!'and I was all a tiptoe and going in, only just then I thought Iwouldn't. I had got a new gown a making, for one thing, and hard uponfinished. So I went home instead, and what was Eli's first word, 'Letyon flea stick i' the wall, my lass,' says he. 'Not a word of all I saidt' anger thee was sooth, but this, "I love thee."' These were his verywords; I minded 'em, being the first quarrel. So I flung my arms abouthis neck and sobbed a bit, and thought o' the canal; and he was nocolder to me than I to him, being a man and a young one; and so thenthat was better than lying in the water; and spoiling my wedding kirtleand my fine new shoon, old John Bush made 'em, that was uncle to himkeeps the shop now. And what was my grief to hers?"
Little Kate hoped that Margaret loved her father too much to think ofleaving him so at his age. "He is father and mother and all to her, youknow."
"Nay, Kate, they do forget all these things in a moment o' despair whenthe very sky seems black above them. I place more faith in him thatis unborn, than on him that is ripe for the grave, to keep her out o'mischief. For certes it do go sore against us to die when there's alittle innocent a pulling at our hearts to let 'un live, and feeding atour very veins."
"Well, then, keep up a good heart, mother." She added, that very likelyall these fears were exaggerated. She ended by solemnly entreating hermother at all events not to persist in naming the sex of Margaret'sinfant. It was so unlucky, all the gossips told her; "dear heart, as ifthere were not as many girls born as boys."
This reflection, though not unreasonable, was met with clamour.
"Have you the cruelty to threaten me with a girl!!? I want no moregirls, while I have you. What use would a lass be to me? Can I set heron my knee and see my Gerard again as I can a boy? I tell thee 'tis allsettled.
"How may that be?"
"In my mind. And if I am to be disappointed i' the end, 'tisn't for youto disappoint me beforehand, telling me it is not to be a child, butonly a girl."
The Cloister and the Hearth Page 48