Page 9 of Rachel Ray


  CHAPTER IX.

  MR. PRONG AT HOME.

  Mrs. Tappitt's ball was celebrated on a Tuesday, and on the precedingMonday Mrs. Prime moved herself off, bag and baggage, to MissPucker's lodgings. Miss Pucker had been elated with a dismal joywhen the proposition was first made to her. "Oh, yes; it was verydreadful. She would do anything;--of course she would give up thefront bedroom up-stairs to Mrs. Prime, and get a stretcher forherself in the little room behind, which looked out on the tiles ofGriggs' sugar warehouse. She hadn't thought such a thing would havebeen possible; she really had not. A ball! Mrs. Prime couldn't helpcoming away;--of course not. And there would be plenty of room forall her boxes in the small room behind the shop. Mrs. Ray's daughtergo to a ball!" And then some threatening words were said as to thedestiny of wicked people, which shall not be repeated here.

  That flitting had been a very dismal affair. An old man out ofBaslehurst had come for Mrs. Prime's things with a donkey-cart, andthe old man, assisted by the girl, had carried them out together.Rachel had remained secluded in her mother's room. The two sistershad met at the same table at breakfast, but had not spoken over theirtea and bread and butter. As Rachel was taking the cloth away Mrs.Prime had asked her solemnly whether she still persisted in bringingperdition upon herself and her mother. "You have no right to ask mesuch a question," Rachel had answered, and taking herself up-stairshad secluded herself till the old man with the donkey, followed byMrs. Prime, had taken himself away from Bragg's End. Mrs. Ray, as hereldest daughter was leaving her, stood at the door of her house withher handkerchief to her eyes. "It makes me very unhappy, Dorothea;so it does." "And it makes me very unhappy, too, mother. Perhaps mysorrow in the matter is deeper than yours. But I must do my duty."Then the two widows kissed each other with a cold unloving kiss, andMrs. Prime had taken her departure from Bragg's End Cottage. "Itwill make a great difference in the housekeeping," Mrs. Ray said toRachel, and then she went to work at her little accounts.

  It was Dorcas-day at Miss Pucker's, and as the work of the meetingbegan soon after Mrs. Prime had unpacked her boxes in the frontbedroom and had made her little domestic arrangements with herfriend, that first day passed by without much tedium. Mrs. Prime wasused to Miss Pucker, and was not therefore grievously troubled by theways and habits of that lady, much as they were unlike those to whichshe had been accustomed at Bragg's End; but on the next morning, asshe was sitting with her companion after breakfast, an idea did comeinto her head that Miss Pucker would not be a pleasant companion forlife. She would talk incessantly of the wickednesses of the cottage,and ask repeated questions about Rachel and the young man. Mrs. Primewas undoubtedly very angry with her mother, and much shocked ather sister, but she did not relish the outspoken sympathy of herconfidential friend. "He'll never marry her, you know. He don't thinkof such a thing," said Miss Pucker over and over again. Mrs. Primedid not find this pleasant when spoken of her sister. "And the youngmen I'm told goes on anyhow, as they pleases at them dances," saidMiss Pucker, who in the warmth of her intimacy forgot some of thoselittle restrictions in speech with which she had burdened herselfwhen first striving to acquire the friendship of Mrs. Prime. Beforedinner was over Mrs. Prime had made up her mind that she must soonmove her staff again, and establish herself somewhere in solitude.

  After tea she took herself out for a walk, having managed to declineMiss Pucker's attendance, and as she walked she thought of Mr. Prong.Would it not be well for her to go to him and ask his further advice?He would tell her in what way she had better live. He would tell heralso whether it was impossible that she should ever return to thecottage, for already her heart was becoming somewhat more soft thanwas its wont. And as she walked she met Mr. Prong himself, intent onhis pastoral business. "I was thinking of coming to you to-morrow,"she said, after their first salutation was over.

  "Do," said he; "do; come early,--before the toil of the day's workcommences. I also am specially anxious to see you. Will nine be tooearly,--or, if you have not concluded your morning meal by that time,half-past nine?"

  Mrs. Prime assured him that her morning meal was always concludedbefore nine o'clock, and promised to be with him by that hour. Thenas she slowly paced up the High Street to the Cawston Bridge andback again, she wondered within herself as to the matter on which Mr.Prong could specially want to see her. He might probably desire toclaim her services for some woman's work in his sheepfold. He shouldhave them willingly, for she had begun to feel that she would soonerco-operate with Mr. Prong than with Miss Pucker. As she returned downthe High Street, and came near to her own door, she saw the causeof all her family troubles standing at the entrance to Griggs'swine-store. He was talking to the shopman within, and as she passedshe frowned grimly beneath her widow's bonnet. "Send them to thebrewery at once," said Luke Rowan to the man. "They are wanted thisevening."

  "I understand," said the man.

  "And tell your fellow to take them round to the back door."

  "All right," said the man, winking with one eye. He understood verywell that young Rowan was ordering the champagne for Mrs. Tappitt'ssupper, and that it was thought desirable that Mr. Tappitt shouldn'tsee the bottles going into the house.

  Miss Pucker possessed at any rate the virtue of being early, so thatMrs. Prime had no difficulty in concluding her "morning meal," andbeing at Mr. Prong's house punctually at nine o'clock. Mr. Prong,it seemed, had not been quite so steadfast to his purpose, for histeapot was still upon the table, together with the debris of a largedish of shrimps, the eating of small shell-fish being an innocentenjoyment to which he was much addicted.

  "Dear me; so it is; just nine. We'll have these things away in aminute. Mrs. Mudge; Mrs. Mudge!" Whereupon Mrs. Mudge came forth,and between the three the table was soon cleared. "I wish you hadn'tcaught me so late," said Mr. Prong; "it looks as though I hadn't beenthinking of you." Then he picked up the stray shell of a shrimp, andin order that he might get rid of it, put it into his mouth. Mrs.Prime said she hoped she didn't trouble him, and that of course shedidn't expect him to be thinking about her particularly. Then Mr.Prong looked at her in a way that was very particular out of thecorner of his eyes, and assured her that he had been thinking ofher all night. After that Mrs. Prime sat down on a horsehair-seatedchair, and Mr. Prong sat on another opposite to her, leaning back,with his eyes nearly closed, and his hands folded upon his lap.

  "I don't think Miss Pucker's will quite do for me," said Mrs. Prime,beginning her story first.

  "I never thought it would, my friend," said Mr. Prong, with his eyesstill nearly closed.

  "She's a very good woman,--an excellent woman, and her heart is fullof love and charity. But--"

  "I quite understand it, my friend. She is not in all things thecompanion you desire."

  "I am not quite sure that I shall want any companion."

  "Ah!" sighed Mr. Prong, shaking his head, but still keeping his eyesclosed.

  "I think I would rather be alone, if I do not return to them at thecottage. I would fain return if only they--"

  "If only they would return too. Yes! That would be a glorious end tothe struggle you have made, if you can bring them back with you fromfollowing after the Evil One! But you cannot return to them now, ifyou are to countenance by your presence dancings and love-makingsin the open air,"--why worse in the open air than in a closelittle parlour in a back street, Mr. Prong did not say,--"and loudrevellings, and the absence of all good works, and rebellion againstthe Spirit." Mr. Prong was becoming energetic in his language, and atone time had raised himself in his chair, and opened his eyes. But heclosed them at once, and again fell back. "No, my friend," said he,"no. It must not be so. They must be rescued from the burning; butnot so,--not so." After that for a minute or two they both sat stillin silence.

  "I think I shall get two small rooms for myself in one of the quietstreets, near the new church," said she.

  "Ah, yes, perhaps so,--for a time."

  "Till I may be able to go back to mother. It's a sad thing familiesbeing
divided, Mr. Prong."

  "Yes, it is sad;--unless it tends to the doing of the Lord's work."

  "But I hope;--I do hope, that all this may be changed. Rachel I knowis obstinate, but mother means well, Mr. Prong. She means to do herduty, if only she had good teaching near her."

  "I hope she may, I hope she may. I trust that they may both bebrought to see the true light. We will wrestle for them,--you and me.We will wrestle for them,--together. Mrs. Prime, my friend, if youare prepared to hear me with attention, I have a proposition to makewhich I think you will acknowledge to be one of importance." Thensuddenly he sat bolt upright, opened his eyes wide, and dressed hismouth with all the solemn dignity of which he was the master. "Areyou prepared to listen to me, Mrs. Prime?"

  Mrs. Prime, who was somewhat astonished, said in a low voice that shewas prepared to listen.

  "Because I must beg you to hear me out. I shall fail altogether inreaching your intelligence,--whatever effect I might possibly haveupon your heart,--unless you will hear me to the end."

  "I will hear you certainly, Mr. Prong."

  "Yes, my friend, for it will be necessary. If I could convey to yourmind all that is now passing through my own, without any spoken word,how glad should I be! The words of men, when taken at the best, howweak they are! They often tell a tale quite different from that whichthe creature means who uses them. Every minister has felt that inaddressing his flock from the pulpit. I feel it myself sadly, but Inever felt it so sadly as I do now."

  Mrs. Prime did not quite understand him, but she assured him againthat she would give his words her best attention, and that she wouldendeavour to gather from them no other meaning than that which seemedto be his. "Ah,--seemed!" said he. "There is so much of seeming inthis deceitful world. But you will believe this of me, that whateverI do, I do as tending to the strengthening of my hands in theministry." Mrs. Prime said that she would believe so much; and thenas she looked into her companion's face, she became aware that therewas something of weakness displayed in that assuming mouth. She didnot argue about it within her own mind, but the fact had in some waybecome revealed to her.

  "My friend," said he,--and as he spoke he drew his chair across therug, so as to bring it very near to that on which Mrs. Prime wassitting--"our destinies in this world, yours and mine, are in manythings alike. We are both alone. We both of us have our hands full ofwork, and of work which in many respects is the same. We are devotedto the same cause: is it not so?" Mrs. Prime, who had been told thatshe was to listen and not to speak, did not at first make any answer.But she was pressed by a repetition of the question. "Is it not so,Mrs. Prime?"

  "I can never make my work equal to that of a minister of the Gospel,"said she.

  "But you can share the work of such a minister. You understand menow. And let me assure you of this; that in making this propositionto you, I am not self-seeking. It is not my own worldly comfort andhappiness to which I am chiefly looking."

  "Ah," said Mrs. Prime, "I suppose not." Perhaps there was in hervoice the slightest touch of soreness.

  "No;--not chiefly to that. I want assistance, confidentialintercourse, sympathy, a congenial mind, support when I am like tofaint, counsel when I am pressing on, aid when the toil is too heavyfor me, a kind word when the day's work is over. And you,--do you notdesire the same? Are we not alike in that, and would it not be wellthat we should come together?" Mr. Prong as he spoke had put out hishand, and rested it on the table with the palm upwards, as thoughexpecting that she would put hers within it; and he had tilted hischair so as to bring his body closer to hers, and had dropped fromhis face his assumed look of dignity. He was quite in earnest, andbeing so had fallen away into his natural dispositions of body.

  "I do not quite understand you," said Mrs. Prime. She did howeverunderstand him perfectly, but thought it expedient that he shouldbe required to speak a little further before she answered him. Shewanted time also to arrange her reply. As yet she had not made up hermind whether she would say yes or no.

  "Mrs. Prime, I am offering to make you my wife. I have said nothingof love, of that human affection which one of God's creaturesentertains for another;--not, I can assure you, because I do not feelit, but because I think that you and I should be governed in ourconduct by a sense of duty, rather than by the poor creature-longingsof the heart."

  "The heart is very deceitful," said Mrs. Prime.

  "That is true,--very true; but my heart, in this matter, is notdeceitful. I entertain for you all that deep love which a man shouldfeel for her who is to be the wife of his bosom."

  "But Mr. Prong--"

  "Let me finish before you give me your answer. I have thought muchof this, as you may believe; and by only one consideration have Ibeen made to doubt the propriety of taking this step. People willsay that I am marrying you for,--for your money, in short. It isan insinuation which would give me much pain, but I have resolvedwithin my own mind, that it is my duty to bear it. If my motives arepure,"--here he paused a moment for a word or two of encouragement,but received none,--"and if the thing itself be good, I ought not tobe deterred by any fear of what the wicked may say. Do you not agreewith me in that?"

  Mrs. Prime still did not answer. She felt that any word of assent,though given by her to a minor proposition, might be taken asinvolving some amount of assent towards the major proposition. Mr.Prong had enjoyed the advantage of thinking over his matrimonialprospects in undisturbed solitude, but she had as yet possessed nosuch advantage. As the idea had never before presented itself to her,she did not feel inclined to commit herself hastily.

  "And as regards money," he continued.

  "Well," said Mrs. Prime, looking down demurely upon the ground, forMr. Prong had not at once gone on to say what were his ideas aboutmoney.

  "And as regards money,--need I hardly declare that my motives arepure and disinterested? I am aware that in worldly affairs you areat present better off than I am. My professional income from thepew-rents is about a hundred and thirty pounds a year."--It mustbe admitted that it was very hard work. By this time Mr. Pronghad withdrawn his hand from the table, finding that attempt to behopeless, and had re-settled his chair upon its four feet. He hadcommenced by requesting Mrs. Prime to hear him patiently, but he hadprobably not calculated that she would have listened with a patienceso cruel and unrelenting. She did not even speak a word when hecommunicated to her the amount of his income. "That is what I receivehere," he continued, "and you are probably aware that I have noprivate means of my own."

  "I didn't know," said Mrs. Prime.

  "No; none. But what then?"

  "Oh, dear no."

  "Money is but dross. Who feels that more strongly than you do?"

  Mr. Prong in all that he was saying intended to be honest, and inasserting that money was dross, he believed that he spoke his truemind. He thought also that he was passing a just eulogium on Mrs.Prime, in declaring that she was of the same opinion. But he was notquite correct in this, either as regarded himself, or as regardedher. He did not covet money, but he valued it very highly; and asfor Mrs. Prime, she had an almost unbounded satisfaction in her ownindependence. She had, after all, but two hundred a year, out ofwhich she gave very much in charity. But this giving in charity washer luxury. Fine raiment and dainty food tempted her not at all; butnevertheless she was not free from temptations, and did not perhapsalways resist them. To be mistress of her money, and to superintendthe gifts, not only of herself but of others; to be great among thepoor, and esteemed as a personage in her district,--that was herambition. When Mr. Prong told her that money in her sight was dross,she merely shook her head. Why was it that she wrote those terriblycaustic notes to the agent in Exeter if her quarterly payments wereever late by a single week? "Defend me from a lone widow," the agentused to say, "and especially if she's evangelical." Mrs. Primedelighted in the sight of the bit of paper which conveyed to her thepossession of her periodical wealth. To her money certainly was notdross, and I doubt if it was truly so regarded by Mr. Prong himself
.

  "Any arrangements that you choose as to settlements or the like ofthat, could of course be made." Mr. Prong when he began, or ratherwhen he made up his mind to begin, had determined that he would useall his best power of language in pressing his suit; but the workhad been so hard that his fine language had got itself lost in thestruggle. I doubt whether this made much difference with Mrs. Prime;or it may be, that he had sustained the propriety of his words aslong as such propriety was needful and salutary to his purpose. Hadhe spoken of the "like of that" at the opening of the negotiation, hemight have shocked his hearer; but now she was too deeply engaged insolid serious considerations to care much for the words which wereused. "A hundred and thirty from pew-rents," she said to herself, ashe endeavoured, unsuccessfully, to look under her bonnet into herface.

  "I think I have said it all now," he continued. "If you will trustyourself into my keeping I will endeavour, with God's assistance, todo my duty by you. I have said but little personally of myself or ofmy feelings, hoping that it might be unnecessary."

  "Oh, quite so," said she.

  "I have spoken rather of those duties which we should undertaketogether in sweet companionship, if you will consent to--to--to beMrs. Prong, in short." Then he waited for an answer.

  As she sat in her widow's weeds, there was not, to the eye, thepromise in her of much sweet companionship. Her old crape bonnethad been lugged and battered about--not out of all shape, as hatsand bonnets are sometimes battered by young ladies, in which guise,if the young ladies themselves be pretty, the battered hats andbonnets are often more becoming than ever they were in their propershapes--but so as closely to fit her head, and almost hide herface. Her dress was so made, and so put on, as to give to her theappearance of almost greater age than her mother's. She had studiedto divest herself of all outward show of sweet companionship; butperhaps she was not the less, on that account, gratified to find thatshe had not altogether succeeded.

  "I have done with the world, and all the world's vanities and cares,"she said, shaking her head.

  "No one can have done with the world as long as there is work in itfor him or her to do. The monks and nuns tried that, and you knowwhat they came to."

  "But I am a widow."

  "Yes, my friend; and have shown yourself, as such, very willing to doyour part. But do you not know that you could be more active and moreuseful as a clergyman's wife than you can be as a solitary woman?"

  "But my heart is buried, Mr. Prong."

  "No; not so. While the body remains in this vale of tears, the heartmust remain with it." Mrs. Prime shook her head; but in an anatomicalpoint of view, Mr. Prong was no doubt strictly correct. "Other hopeswill arise,--and perhaps, too, other cares, but they will be sourcesof gentle happiness."

  Mrs. Prime understood him as alluding to a small family, and againshook her head at the allusion.

  "What I have said may probably have taken you by surprise."

  "Yes, it has, Mr. Prong;--very much."

  "And if so, it may be that you would wish time for considerationbefore you give me an answer."

  "Perhaps that will be best, Mr. Prong."

  "Let it be so. On what day shall we say? Will Friday suit you? If Icome to you on Friday morning, perhaps Miss Pucker will be there."

  "Yes, she will."

  "And in the afternoon."

  "We shall be at the Dorcas meeting."

  "I don't like to trouble you to come here again."

  Mrs. Prime herself felt that there was a difficulty. Hitherto she hadentertained no objection to calling on Mr. Prong at his own house.His little sitting-room had been as holy ground to her,--almost aspart of the church, and she had taken herself there without scruple.But things had now been put on a different footing. It might be thatthat room would become her own peculiar property, but she could neveragain regard it in a simply clerical light. It had become as it werea bower of love, and she could not take her steps thither with theexpress object of assenting to the proposition made to her,--or evenwith that of dissenting from it. "Perhaps," said she, "you could callat ten on Saturday. Miss Pucker will be out marketing." To this Mr.Prong agreed, and then Mrs. Prime got up and took her leave. Howfearfully wicked would Rachel have been in her eyes, had Rachel madean appointment with a young man at some hour and some place in whichshe might be found alone! But then it is so easy to trust oneself,and so easy also to distrust others.

  "Good-morning," said Mrs. Prime; and as she went she gave her hand asa matter of course to her lover.

  "Good-bye," said he; "and think well of this if you can do so. If youbelieve that you will be more useful as my wife than you can be inyour present position,--then--"

  "You think it would be my duty to--"

  "Well, I will leave that for you to decide. I merely wish to putthe matter before you. But, pray, understand this; money need be nohindrance." Then, having said that last word, he let her go.

  She walked away very slowly, and did not return by the most directroad to Miss Pucker's rooms. There was much to be considered inthe offer that had been made to her. Her lot in life would bevery lonely if this separation from her mother and sister shouldbecome permanent. She had already made up her mind that a continuedresidence with Miss Pucker would not suit her; and although, on thatvery morning, she had felt that there would be much comfort in livingby herself, now, as she looked forward to that loneliness, it hadfor her very little attraction. Might it not be true, also, that shecould do more good as a clergyman's wife than could possibly comewithin her reach as a single woman? She had tried that life oncealready, but then she had been very young. As that memory came uponher, she looked back to her early life, and thought of the hopeswhich had been hers as she stood at the altar, now so many years ago.How different had been everything with her then! She remembered thesort of love she had felt in her heart, and told herself that therecould be no repetition of such love on Mr. Prong's behalf. She hadcome round in her walk to that very churchyard stile at which shehad seen Rachel standing with Luke Rowan, and as she remembered somepassages in her own girlish days, she almost felt inclined to forgiveher sister. But then, on a sudden, she drew herself up almost with agasp, and went on quickly with her walk. Had she not herself in thosedays walked in darkness, and had it not since that been vouchsafedto her to see the light? In her few months of married happiness ithad been given to her to do but little of that work which might nowbe possible to her. Then she had been married in the flesh; now shewould be married in the spirit;--she would be married in the spirit,if it should, on final consideration, seem good to her to accept Mr.Prong's offer in that light. Then unconsciously, she began to reflecton the rights of a married woman with regard to money,--and also onthe wrongs. She was not sure as to the law, and asked herself whetherit would be possible for her to consult an attorney. Finally, shethought it would not be practicable to do so before giving her answerto Mr. Prong.

  And she could not even ask her mother. As to that, too, shequestioned herself, and resolved that she could not so far lowerherself under existing circumstances. There was no one to whom shecould go for advice. But we may say this of her,--let her have askedwhom she would, she would have at least been guided by her ownjudgment. If only she could have obtained some slight amount of legalinformation, how useful it would have been!