Nellie Netterville; or, One of the Transplanted, Chapter III-V [pp. 175-190]

Nellie Netterville.
phecy of death to her beloved ones,
she hastily reentered the house and
retreated to her own apartment. This
was a small, dark chamber, which in
happier times had been set apart as
a quiet retreat for prayer and household purposes, but which now was the
only one the mistress of the mansion
could call her own-the soldiers having that very morning taken possession of all the others, devoting some
of them to their own particular
accommodation and locking up the
others. It was, in fact, as a very
singular and especial favour, and as
some return for the kindness she had
shown in nursing one of their number who had been taken suddenly ill
on the night of their arrival, that the
use even of this small chamber had
been allowed her; for it was not the
custom of Cromwell's army to deal
too gently by the vanquished, and
many of the "transplanted," as highborn and well-educated as she was,
had been compelled, in similar circumstances, to retire to the outer offices of their own abode, while the
rough soldiery who displaced them
installed themselves in the luxurious
apartments of the interior.
Hidden from all curious eyes in
this dark retreat, Mrs. Netterville
yielded at last to the cry of her weak
human heart, and, flinging herself
face downward on the floor, gave
way to a passion of grief which was
all the more terrible that it was absolutely tearless. One or two of the
few remaining women of the household, knowing how fearfully her soul,
in spite of all outward show of calmness, must be wrung, tapped occasionally at the door; but either she
did not hear or did not choose to
answer, and they dared not enter
without permission.
At last one of them went to Hamish, feeling instinctively that, if any
one could venture to infrude unbid
den, it would be the foster-brother of
Nellie, and said:
"The mistress, God help her! is
just drowned with the sorrow, and
won't even answer when we call.
Hamish, a-bouchal, couldn't you manage to go in, just by accident like,
and say something or other to give a
turn to her thoughts?"
"Give a turn to her thoughts?"
said Hamish crustily; "give a turn
to her thoughts, do you say? My
certie, but you take it easy! Hasn't
the woman lost husband and child,
to say nothing of the old lord, who
was all as one to her as her own father? and isn't she going, moreover,
to be turned out of house and home,
and sent adrift upon the wide world?
and you talk of giving a turn to her
thoughts, as if it was the toothache
she was troubled with or a wasp that
had stung her?"
"As you please, Mr. Hoity-toity,"
said the girl angrily; "I only thoug,ht
that, as you were a bit of a pet like,
on account of our young mistress,
you might have ventured on the liberty. Not having set up in that
line myself, I cannot, of course, attempt to meddle in the matter."
But though Hamish had spoken
roughly, his heart was very sore, for
all that, over the sorrows of his lonely mistress.
He waited until Cathleen had
vanished in a huff, and then, going
quietly to the study-door, knocked
softly for admission.
But Mrs. Netterville gave no
sign, and, after knocking two or
three times in vain, he opened the
door gently and looked in. The
room was naturally a gloomy one,
being panelled in black oak; but
Hamish felt as if it never could have
looked before so gloomy as it did that
moment. Half study, half oratory
as it was, Mrs. Netterville had spent
here many a long hour of lonely and
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