Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1859-12-20
0Qurtester Daily gpg.
THE DIARY OF MARGARET READE;
AFTERWARDS MRS. LAKE, OF NEW LONDON, IN
HIS MAJTY'S COLONY OF CONNECTICUT
EDITED BY MARTHA RUSSELL
CONTINUED.

may be, and the great vein through the middle
of his forehead stood out like small cord, a
sign to me that the matter is one that stirreth
anger as well as sorrow. As | looked at him,
some words that Esther let fall day or two
ago came into my head, and, all at once, the
truth broke upon me. Some Puritan whom
he holds in high esteem has doubtless imper-
illed himself and Philip seeks to prevail upon
Richard to intercede in his behalf with his
great friends at Court. Poor fellow, hope he
may prevail, not that care greatly for the
Puritans, but gratitude toward his brother can
not fail to draw them closer together and make
Richards excellencies more plain to him. l
stole out of the room without waking him, and
ran down to the dining hall, where was great
ly amazed to find Mr. Sharswood, ever late
with old Lawaine at his heels.
He turned to meet me with some fine speech
about my likeness to the sun, which, fear. /
seemed to treat ungraciously, for my head
was too full of Philips business, and busy cast
ing about for some way to thank Mr. Shars-
much heed to his words. Seeing him minded
to go on in the same light strain, and finding
no better way, did say, bluntly, how friend.
ly held it that he should trouble himself, the
more SO, because every one knew in what low
esteem he held the Puritans as body
suppose he, too, deems it unmeet for a wo-
nan to think, much more speak, of aught but
household affairs, from the look of puzzled
amazement that overspread his countenance.
In the days at Ryalside, L think the tempta,
ton to laugh would have been too great for
my respect for my guardian but now was
SO vexed that he should find nothing but i'm
propriety in my words, that l turned away
i'll silence ; not, however, until his keen wit
had taken some knowledge of my thoughts, for
he made haste to say =
"Thy gratitude is very sweet, dear Maggie !;
it always was; though somewhat astray in
lhis case. Who could dream of our wise Phil.
Up being in fault, or needing my poor serv-
cesI'
The words were not amiss, and the tone was
gracious as ever; but there was something
about the mouth, when l looked up to him,
that did move me to say quickly, and with
some spirit =
"No one. The question is not of Philips
wrong-doing. If he were in fault, he would
scarcely seek for aught but Justice !'
lit Dut LlUIG III Tile SplrlU Vi mock
cry than merriment as he answered,
81 stand reproved Mistress Lake. That
speech witnesseth of your teaching, and Phil
ip should be proud of such Scholar. Pardie,
the villains are not so far from the truth; it is
in good truth. New Earth, when our women
shut the door on Pity and pirate of Justice p
"You mock, sir. What l said OF Philip is
as true as what you say of women is false /!
Aye, and it is true of you, too, for if you
were uot both as pitiful as women, you would
not take up other peoples troubles and have
occasion to mock my thanks. I'll not waste
any more, sir y
was turning away, hurt to the heart, that
he, too, should treat me like such very child,
when he spoke my name Margaret but in
tone SO sharp and quick, that, had | not
often in times gone by, been driven to provoke
him thus, by words spoken to prevent tears, |
should now have thought him very angry.
But it was not anger; no one could have held
it SO, seeing the face he turned ON me, so grey
and sharp and old unlike any remembered
fancy of my Guardian that could but stand
and stare. He did not once mind my manners,
but went on quickly, in the same tone, sharp
as the lines OF his face:
$50 you think me pitiful-pitiful as a wo
man! wonder how great a woman's pity is !!
how much it can bear our Mothers, for
instance, or yours, Mistress Margaret, and
how soon your thanks will be changed to
curses Shall tell you the truth, Peggy (?
Shall forestall Philip and draw mine own
picture! His Puritan precision may draw the
truer likeness, for there would be no fiattering,
no softening or shading But l am in the
mood for it, and you will excuse any short
comings for the sake of old times p
He had laid his hand on my arm while he
spoke and the pain from his fierce grip, to.
gether with the strangeness of his words and
manner, frightened me, l think, for all of a
sudden / burst into tears
For a moment, he looked Mt me sharply
then his old self, his pleasant kind sell, began
to look through the cold Masque, he had so
lately worn, and he said, kindly, Don't cry,
Peggy; for Gods sake, don't cry, unless you
would drive me mad l never could bear
tears, least of all, yours, who have been-and
want you to aemember this dear, and believe
it, always-the only being | ev9r truly loved
for years, and that love, if | had not been
worse than blind, fool even, ought to have
Oh, but it was | that was a fool How
could fling off his hand, and start and trem-
BILE like the veriest Culprit alive, just because
/ happened to catch a glimpse OF my Hus-
bands white face in the doorway! Mr.. Shars-
woode saw it too, and, folding his arms, stood,
as if waiting for him to come in, before he fin
ished his speech but much doubt if Philip
noted any one but me. AT first, he seemed
minded to turn away, and | was about to run
after him, and beg him to come and help me
to understand Mr.. Sharswoode's words, when
he changed his intent, and, coming slowly
the length of the room, to where we stood,
said sharply, margaret, go to Esther's room /;
this place is unfit for you"
was minded to remind him that Esther
never sees any until breakfast, and, besides, l
was not cold, no colder than i always am
in these dreary Fogs; but when l looked in
his face, / had no heart to vex him. The same
blight, or whatever it was, that had so changed
Richard, had fallen upon him, only, instead OF
the miserable irresolution and reckless hope
lessness that made Mr.. Sharaewoode so pitiful
to see, his was sad and stern, the very look OF
old Sir Maurice in the chancel at Ryal-slde,
which | noted once before; and, truly, his
face might have been stone, save for the look
of smothered pain about the mouth the only
sign of the Lite within. How strong, i'll spite
of differing faith, must be the sympathy that
makes them feel a common trouble, thus
Such it must be, | think from Richards
words, but what, 1 cannot divine. / must
wait for the explanation, which he limited
Philip will make, or mayhap they will speak
of it at the table. | will go down.
Later There was no speech at all at table
and, in vain, sought to read the faces there
Mother Lake gave no sign Of the unusual in
break upon her rest last Night, unless it were
in the displacement of the folds of her shawl
or, when, in filling Richards Cup, the silver
one which, Joan did tell me, he used when a
boy, she became lost in some thought, and kept
on pouring the home-brewed from the great
tankard unmindful OF the overflow, until Phil
lip took the cup from her hand. But these
were passing oversights, for never heard her
read the daily portion of Scripture with SO