The morning call., 1893-01-08
and sa. In my bedroom thinking without
wepninp

with me when father died. Mr.. Johnstone's
was a very comfortable house; 1t after
ward passed into the hands of chart
seller His clients were nearly wholly COM
posed of sea-going people; he was said TO be
very learned i'll maritime law: he was much
consulted by masters and mates with grey
ances, and at his house, as at my fathers
formerly. you'd meet few people who ala
not follow the ocean or dld not do business
with seafarers.
Mrs. Johnstone was three or four years
older than her husband. She was a plain,
homely, thoroughly gOod-hearted woman,
incapable of an ill-natured thought: one OF
those few people who are content to be as
God made them. During my mothers
brief married life with her second husband
/ was constantly with my aunt, ana
/ believe L should have lived with
her wholly but for MY determination
that my stepfather. the doctor, should moi
fiatter himself he had sickened me out OF
my own home. viii was at this time at the
Bluecoat School, laying in stock OF Latin
and Greek for the fishes. for the lad was re-
solved TO go to sea-his father, indeed.
wished him TO adopt that calling, ana wou'd
say, wv hat is the good OF cargo OF learn
ing the whole of which Will be thrown over
board the first dirty night down channel?"
When mother died my aunt entreated me
to live with her and leave the doctor alone
in his glory. My answer was: No. L
should not think of leaving my own home
II my stepfather were out OF 1t. and was
not TO be driven out because he chose TO
stay. l had the power to turn him
out and should have done so but for
the baby. The little one Was my
mothers; / could not have turned
child Of my mothers out OF home that
had been my mothers. SO | continued to
live in the home that had come to me from
my father. / occupied sci OF rooms on the
parior floor and took my meals in my own
apartments, where / was attended by
maid, who waited upon me and upon no.
body else.
The child was called after my mother;
and her name was mlne-Marian. III IN
passing up or down stairs / met the little
creature in its nurses arms / would take 1t
and kiss ii perhaps; and toss IL moment
or two and then so my way. GOD
forgive me, / could never bring my.
self to love that child. L never could
think of it as my mothers, but as Mr. Stan
iOrd's. The sight, the sound Of 1t, would
bring all my father into my heart, and a
fall into sort Of passion merely IN think
ing that the memory OF such man should
have been betrayed.
dare say you will consider all as an ex-
cess of loyalty in me. But loyal even to
eXaggeration my nature was to those l
loved II is no boast-neTely saying which
this tale should justify.
After the death Of my mother the money
paid TO me through my trustees rose TO an
rejoice 10 say that Mr.. Stanford got not ole
penny. My mother had been without the
power 10 viii away one tarthlng OF what
my father had left her. Otherwise, don't
doubt tie doctor would have come of with
something more substantial than II ten
mOnth-mem0ry and my su.len federation of
his plate upon the door.
The equivalent in these times Of five hum
dred a year would in those De about seven
hundred. was, therefore, fortune and
fine handsome young woman besides.
and you will naturally ask had l any
swee;heartS, lovers, followers? To tell you
the truth | Dever gave men nor marriage
thought. ] had friends in the Deignb0r-
hood. and | went among them, and | W as
also much at my aunt's, and not very easily,
therefore, to be caught at home by any
gentleman with an eye TO tne girl and an
lndependency. Add likewise 10 my visiting
a great love of solitary rambling. Ia take
boat at Mapping, and pass nearly whole
day upon the river. stepping ashore per-
haps at some convenient landing-stairs or
stage for meal, and then returning to the
wherry. Ali, those were delicious jaunts.
They stand next In my memory 10
sweetness and happiness to those
father had carried me on. / made
nothing of being alone, and nobody took
any notice of me. | was affronted but
once and that was by Mapping water
man, who claimed that / had promised to
use his boat, which was false. He was
poor creature, and nothing but the
modesty Of my sex numbered me
from beating him with the short,
stout stick. silveT-headed, with lead
under the silver, that | always carried
with me when / went alone. Another
waterman whom | employed came up while
the low fellow was slanging me, whipped off
his coat like lightning and in five minutes
blocked up bOth his opponents eyes. This
was punishment enough aud / was salts
fed and as reward paid The chiyalrous man
double fare and made point 10 hire his
boat afterwaTd
Or ! would take my passage liz Calais
steamer land at GrayeSend, or perhaps
high up, and wander about, perfectly happy
in being alone, and with eyes and thoughts
for nothing but the beauties of the country
and the bright scene OF the river Often |
was away for two and three days together,
bur on these occasions j always ehBse an
inn where was known. where | could de-
pend upon the comfort of the entertain-
ment and the security of the house, where
the landlady would welcome me as friend
and provide me Tor the night with such
little cOnveniences as had left my home
without. Everything Was caprice with me
in those days. / did what | liked went
where / liked, knew no master. My aunt
once or twice in her mild way questioned
the propTiety Of a young woman acting as |
did. but my uncle stood up for me. pointed
out that my blood was full of the old roam
ing instincts OF my father; that | was quite
old enough and strong enough to take care
of myself; that what ] did was my notion
Of enjoyment, and that was in The right to
be happy.
'Kerp on the wing while you can" said
he. Some OF these days big chap called
husband will come along, with pair of
shears in his hand. and the rest will be
short farmyard hops"
On the other hand my stepfather professed
to be scandaliZed at my conduct. lie marched
into my room one day after | had
spent the night alone at Grayesend. aud
asked leave TO have serious talk with me.
But On his beginning 10 tell me that i
was not acting with that sort Of de-
corum, with that regard to social
observances which is always expected
and looked for in young lady,
/ walked out of the room. He then ad-
dressed long letter TO me. His drift was
still decorous and social ohservanees and
what wonld his patients think? | thought
of my father and how he would deal with
this fellow who was daring enough to
teach me how TO conduct myself, and in a
passion | tore the letter in halves, slipped
the pieces into an envelope, on which |
wrote, Your advice Is as Objectionable as
your company" and babe my maid put the
letter on the table of the room in which he
received his patients.
But this is not telling You whether had
lovers, sweethearts. followers or not? |
have no room to go into that matter here;
yet let ME name two young gentlemen. The
first was the son of one of my trustees,
Captain Galloway, who lived at Shadwell.
The youth was good looking and had n
pleasant easy manner; he had been well
educated and at this time held some post of
small consequence in the London docks.
He hung about me much, contrived to meet
me at friends houses. often called and man
aged sometimes TO discover whittier had
gone on ralnble, and to meet me as though
by accident | never doubted that | owed
n good deal of this lads attention to old
Captain Galloway's faiherly advice. i
laughed in my sleeve at the poor boy,
though / was always gentle and kind 10
him, ano if never gave him any marked
encouragement, for his fathers sake /
took care never TO pain or in any way dis
concert him; until one evening happening
tn he nj q mad ri liz narfv tn ~ hich he had