Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 292: what you’re looking at

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JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. this was perfect, when considered in reference to proportions that were all upon a large scale. A morning-wrapper, evidently thrown on with neg- ligence, did not altogether conceal the splendour and whiteness of her bust. Though her hair and eyes were dark, her complexion was pure and transparent ; and those eyes, notwithstanding the tears which dimmed them, were of a lustrous beauty. Her features were not perfectly regular ; but it could only have been a very nice criticism that would have cavilled at them. Her mouth might possibly have been considered a trifle too large, and the lips too voluptuously full: but they certainly were not coarse—and the splendid set of teeth they revealed were a satisfactory indem- nification. There was something about her which at once bespoke the lady; and I concluded that she must be the mistress of the cottage. Indeed, as she wore a wedding-ring, I immediately set her down to be Mrs. Foley. _ The interval between the cottage and the fence might be'about thirty-yards; and she came rush- ing like one’frantic along the gravel-walk. She reached the gate, towards which I immediately moved, as I'saw that she desired to speak to me; and I felt much excited by the spectacle of so much bitter sorrow on the part of one’so interesting and so handsome. “Oh, sir!” she exclaimed, still clasping her hands ‘in deep afiliction, “ would you render a service to one who is almost distracted ?” “Yes, madam,” I ‘answered,—“ that I will, cheerfully and readily! ! What can Ido?” ““My husband is dying, I fear!” she cried: and then suddenly covering her face with her hands, she sobbed convulsively. “Dying, madam!” I ejaculated. “Have you a Surgeon? or is it for medical attendance that you wish me to hasten?” “Yes—that is the favour I beseech of you,” cried the lady. “There isa little village yonder —about two miles distant—just behind that hill— and a surgeon lives there. Hasten, sir;—hasten, I implore you—or my beloved Ferdinand will be no more!” “T go at once!” was my quick response: and I was hastening away, when Mrs. Foley—for such she proved to be—called me back. “ You had better take the horse,” she said, en- deavouring ‘to conquer some portion of her bitter grief, so that she might think and speak in a col- lected manner. “You can reach the village'in a few minutes; and.you can give the horse to Mr. Games, the surgeon—so that he may lose no time in coming hither. Bid him ride quick life or déath depends. upon his speed! This way—this way ! }> She opened the gate—I entered the enclosure |; —and she quickly led me towards a stable, in which I found a saddle and bridle. Then I had to go into the paddock and eatch the horse that was grazing there: but fortunately the docile animal —as handsome a creature too as ever I beheld in my life—suffered himself to be immediately cap- tured. The bridle was hastily slipped on; and I led him round to the front of the stable. There I saddled him—in a moment sprang upon his back—and was about to gallop away, whem Mrs. Foley again stopped me. Us Might I inquire who you are?” she asked; a tg —= eee a aS a ee ee ee la, a few minutes. " “that I may know who it is that is rendering m this kind—this generous service.” “My name is Joseph Wilmot,’ I answered ; “and I was on my way to enter a situation which I have obtained at Heather Place.” “Then accept, Joseph Wilmot, the heartfelt thanks of a truly grateful woman!” exclaimed Mrs. Foley: and at the same time drawing forth her purse, she took thence a sovereign. “ No, no, ma’am—not for the world!” I cried, —not for the world!’—and the next instant I was galloping away. The horse went like the wind: .a bridle-path, diverging from the main road in which the white cottage stood, led round the base of the hill which Mrs. Foley had indicated ; and in a few minutes I reached the village. Almost the very first house that I saw was that of Mr. Games the surgeon. It was a modest one; and the little shop had the usual apothecary’s bottles of coloured waters in the window—but all in a miniature size compared with those which chemists in large towns display. -I sprang from the back of the horse; and holding the bridle, crossed the ‘threshold. Mr. Games was an elderly man—with a mild good-natured look ; and at a glance it ‘was easy to perceive that he was simple-minded and of humble taste, as the surgeon of such an out-of-the-way nook might easily be'imagined before'he was seen. I quickly delivered my message; and though he exhibited prompt.alacrity in putting on his hat, taking his case of instruments, as well as his stick, to hurry off to the white cottage,—he appeared by no means inclined to mount the horse. I assured him it was a matter of life-and death—whereat he looked exceedingly chagrined, evidently balancing between what he felt to be his duty on the one hand, and his fears on the other. “Come!” said I; “get up behind me—hold fast round my waist—and we will be therein.a It would take you.a good half-hour. to walk; and in the meanwhile the poor gentleman Mr. Games consented. Again I sprang into the saddle: he hoisted himself up behind me; and away we sped in the direction of the cottage. We reached it without. any accident: Mrs. Foley at once rushed forth—and -still with an almost fren- zied affliction depicted in her looks, she besought Mr. Games to hurry up-stairs at once, for that she feared her husband was‘at his last gasp. She breathed .a few hurried words of heartfelt thanks tome; and I proceeded to put the horse up in the stable ‘and give him a feed of corn. As there was. no. groom nor. man-servant about the premises, I concluded that Mr. Foley had been accustomed to attend to his own horse; and stripping off my. coat and waistcoat, L groomed the animal to the best of my ability. As already stated, he was. a, beautiful creature; and I felt a pleasure in thus attending to him. An hour passed; and when I, had resumed the apparel I had thrown off, I pro- ceeded round to the back part of the premises to make an inquiry with respect to Mr. Foley’s con« dition, ere I pursued my way to Heather Place. There was a servant-woman in the small but neat, kitchen—a buxom, red-cheeked, healthy-looking creature of about four or five-and-twenty ; and:she, stared at me in a way that at first struck meas: peculiar. But I soon comprehended what it. CORNICE O@ S co AA