CHAPTER XVI.

TRY AGAIN.

Again Emmie, with her attendant, passed through the gateway at the entrance to the grounds of Myst Court. Miss Trevor had scarcely done so ere she became uncomfortably conscious that her movements now attracted a good deal of attention amongst the inmates of the cottages near. A rabble of children, all dirty and some of them barefoot, clustered near the gate, and when the lady had passed it, formed a kind of volunteer escort with which Emmie would have gladly dispensed. Some begged, and all stared at the lady; while two or three urchins, more impudent than the rest, pressed so closely upon her, that Susan could scarcely prevent them from impeding her mistress's progress. Emmie walked fast to rid herself of her unwelcome companions, but the children quickened their pace to keep up with the lady. Women stood at the entrances of their cottages, dropping courtesies, and evidently full of hope that the dispenser of half-crowns would visit their homes. Emmie was experimentally learning one of the most important of lessons for a district visitor, especially a rich one, that the worst way to begin is to give money without inquiry, merely to smooth our own way, and to buy that civility from the poor which is usually offered freely. The indiscriminating giver of alms, instead of improving the class whom he visits, rouses their evil passions. He makes the poor beggars, if he finds them not beggars already. Cupidity, jealousy, hypocrisy, these are the seeds which the careless, indolent almsgiver sows; and then, when he sees the harvest, he bitterly complains of the ingratitude which has requited his generous kindness. To help effectually those who require help, to sow a blessing and reap a blessing, we need to receive, we need to ask for the wisdom that cometh down from above.

"I wish that I had flung that unlucky half-crown into the brook, instead of throwing it away on those Blunts!" thought Emmie. "It was my nervous timidity that made me do so foolish a thing."

There was no difficulty in finding the cottage of Widow Brant; nor had Emmie even to knock, for the poor woman stood at her open door, only too glad to welcome the lady in. The widow was dressed neatly, but very poorly; her mourning was faded, and many a patch showed the work of industrious fingers. The inside of the cottage was so clean, that Emmie felt no reluctance to sit down on the chair which was offered to her, after a rapid dusting which it did not seem to require. Mrs. Brant was a small, thin, sickly-looking woman, with weak voice and timid manner; not even Emmie could possibly feel afraid of "breaking the ice" with one who excited no feeling but that of compassion. A good commencement was made; Emmie admired the flowers in the window, she herself was so fond of flowers; there was the point of similarity of taste on which the rich and poor could touch each other without undue familiarity on the one side, or sense of condescension on the other. The face of the widow brightened, and the young visitor felt encouraged. Miss Trevor went on to make inquiries regarding the widow's state of health, and listened with interest unfeigned to the story of long years passed in weakness and pain. The patient endurance of the poor invalid interested and touched the heart of her hearer.

"But have you had no medical advice?" inquired Emmie.

"Years agone I'd the parish doctor, miss; but he didn't do me no good," replied the meek little widow. "But now I'm in hopes as I'll soon get better. There's a wonderful clever man as has come to this place; they says as he has been in Ireland, and he has scraped the dust off the tombstones of saints, and mixed it up with holy water, and when we've crossed his palm with a shilling, miss, he hangs a bag of the dust round our necks, and mutters a charm to wile away all our pains. See, miss," and the poor creature showed a small linen bag fastened round her neck by a morsel of string, "I gave my last shilling for this."

"And has it done you good?" asked Emmie, a little amused at the simplicity of the woman, and more than a little indignant at the advantage taken of it by some heartless impostor.

"I can't say as how I feels much better yet," replied the sufferer, "but I hopes as in time the charm will work a cure."

"It will never work anything but disappointment!" cried Miss Trevor; "the food which that shilling might have bought would have done more for your health than all the charms in the world made up by a superstitious, ignorant quack!"

"Ignorant--superstitious!" croaked out a voice at the slowly opening door, which made Emmie start to her feet in alarm. She knew the tones, and she knew the hard features and long grizzled hair of him who had crossed the threshold, and who now stood surveying her with a fixed malignant gaze. "Do you talk of _ignorance_, child," continued Harper, making a stride towards Emmie, who instantly backed as far as the narrow space of the room would admit, "you who know not even the secrets of your own dwelling, nor dare to ask what things of darkness may haunt it! _Superstition!_--if it be superstition to dread the unseen, to tremble before the unknown, is it for _you_ to talk of superstition in another?"

Emmie was too much terrified to attempt a reply. Her one desire was to quit the cottage directly, and she made a movement as if to do so; but Harper was between her and the door, and she did not dare to brush past him. Happily her attendant Susan was much more self-possessed than was her young mistress.

"Please to make way for my lady," said the maid with a decision of manner which caused Harper to draw a little to one side. Emmie did not even wait to wish the widow good-day; trembling like an aspen, the timid girl made her escape from the cottage, resolved never to run the risk of encountering Harper again, unless she were under the immediate protection of her father or Bruce.

Returning rapidly towards the entrance gate, like one who fears pursuit, Emmie, when almost close to it, came upon Mrs. Jessel, attired as before in black dress, with crape-flowers and bugles.

"Ah! Miss Trevor, good afternoon," said the late attendant on Mrs. Myers, with the mixture of obsequiousness and forwardness which marked the manner of one long accustomed to flatter and fawn, but who felt herself to be now greatly raised in social position by having a house of her own. "How good you are to go visiting the cottages round!"

"I cannot visit in cottages," said poor Emmie with something like a gasp, as she passed through the gateway and then stopped, as if she now felt herself safe.

"Ah! that's what my poor dear lady was always saying, Miss Trevor," observed Jael Jessel, who had followed her into the grounds. "Mrs. Myers was the kindest of creatures; but she was too nervous to visit her tenants. 'You go for me, Jessel,' was always her words; 'you know every one here, you know who is sick, and who has had twins, who wants soup, and who would like a hundred of coals. It is you that must visit for me.'"

"I wish that some one would visit for me!" escaped from the unwary lips of Emmie.

"Oh! I'll do it with all the pleasure in life, miss!" cried Mrs. Jessel, her bugles trembling with the eagerness with which she clinched what she chose to regard as an offer of employment. "There is nothing that I like better than looking after the poor dear folk round about. You see I've now a deal of time on my hands. You have only to tell Hannah, miss, to let me have what goes from your table, or a drop of broth now and then, and there shall be no trouble to any one; I'll bring my own basket to carry the food, and you'll have the satisfaction, Miss Trevor, of knowing that every one here is well looked after."

"You are very kind," said Emmie, who thought that it would indeed be a comfort to have a substitute to do the work for which she herself was proved to be so unfit.

"I was just going up to the Court, Miss Trevor, to hunt after the tabby of which my poor dear lady was so fond," observed Mrs. Jessel; "the creature misses her so--every one misses her so! I can't keep my cats from wandering back to the old house, where she used to feed them with her own hands. I'll just tell Hannah your wishes, Miss Trevor, she'll understand what you want. You'd have the cottagers cared for, and you make over the care of them all to me."

"Pray take some food at once to poor Mrs. Brant," said Emmie.

"She shan't go to bed without a good supper, and I'll tell her who sends it," cried Mrs. Jessel; "meat is the physic she wants. It's not for ladies like you, Miss Trevor, to be soiling their nice dresses by going in and out of dirty cottages, and may be hearing bad language, or meeting, perhaps, with rudeness. It's for those who are used to the work, like me; those who know the ins and the outs, the whys and the wherefores; who are neither easily taken in, nor easily frightened. Yes, I'll do all that is wanted,--you may rest quite easy, Miss Trevor."