Aunt Deborah | Page 9

off his coat and hat, plunged in and rescued
Mrs. Deborah, whilst good John Stokes, running round the head of the
pond as nimbly as a boy, did the same kind office for his prime
aversion, the attorney's clerk. What a sound kernel is sometimes hidden
under a rough and rugged rind!
Mr. Adolphus, more frightened than hurt, and with so much of the
conceit washed out of him by his involuntary cold bath, that it might be
accounted one of the most fortunate accidents in his life, was conveyed

to the Hall; but her own house being almost equally near, Mrs. Deborah
was at once taken home, and put comfortably to bed in her own
chamber.
About two hours afterwards, the whole of the miller's family, Mrs.
Thornly still pallid and trembling, Cicely smiling through her tears, and
her father as blunt and freespoken as ever, were assembled round the
homely couch of their maiden cousin.
"I tell you I must have the lawyer fetched directly. I can't sleep till I
have made my will;" said Mrs. Deborah.
"Better not," responded John Stokes; "you'll want it altered to-morrow."
"What's that you say, cousin John?" inquired the spinster.
"That if you make your will to night, you'll change your mind
to-morrow," reiterated John Stokes. "Ned's going to be married to my
Cicely," added he, "and that you mayn't like, or if you did like it this
week, you might not like it next So you'd better let matters rest as they
are."
"You're a provoking man, John Stokes," said his cousin--"a very
provoking, obstinate man. But I'll convince you for once. Take that key,
Mrs. Thornly," quoth she, raising herself in bed, and fumbling in an
immense pair of pockets for a small old-fashioned key, "and open the
'scrutoire, and give me the pen and ink, and the old narrow brown book,
that you'll find at the top. Not like his marrying Cicely! Why I always
have loved that child--don't cry, Cissy!--and have always had cause, for
she has been a kind little creature to me. Those dahlias came from her,
and the sweet posy," pursued Mrs. Deborah, pointing to a nosegay of
autumn flowers, the old fragrant monthly rose, mignionette, heliotrope,
cloves, and jessamine, which stood by the bedside. "Ay, that's the book,
Mrs. Thornly; and there, Cissy," continued Aunt Deborah, filling up the
check, with a sum far larger than that required for the partnership--
"there, Cissy, is your marriage portion. Don't cry so, child!" said she, as
the affectionate girl hung round her neck in a passion of grateful
tears--"don't cry, but find out Edward, and send for the lawyer, for I'm

determined to settle my affairs to night And now, John Stokes, I know
I've been a cross old woman, but...."
"Cousin Deborah," interrupted John, seizing her withered hand with a
gripe like a smith's vice,--"Cousin Deborah, thou hast acted nobly, and
I beg thy pardon once for all. God bless thee!--Dang it," added the
honest miller to himself, "I do verily believe that this squabbling has
been mainly my fault, and that if I had not been so provoking she
would not have been so contrary. Well, she has made us all happy, and
we must try to make her happy in return. If we did not, we should
deserve to be soused in the fish-pond along with that unhappy chap,
Master 'Dolphus. For my part," continued the good yeoman, forming
with great earnestness a solemn resolution--"for my part, I've fully
made up my mind never to contradict her again, say what she will. No,
not if she says black's white! It's contradiction that makes women
contrary; it sets their backs up, like. I'll never contradict her again so
long as my name's John Stokes."

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