Foreshadows  
H! with that little Gipsey-party went all the Smiles I was to see for many a Day, though I knew it not.
My Father about this Time seemed dull and sorry of Cheer. I asked him if aught ailed him in Body or Mind, or had gone wrong in his Affairs. He said, no—that he was sensible of a Heaviness on his Spirits, but could no Ways account for it. And, with that Stoutness of Heart which had become a second Nature, he bustled about and tried to cast it off. Still I watched him narrowly, but could 148detect no Signs of Disorder. I lay awake at Night, thinking of him; and amid the Stillness all about, could faintly hear the distant Wail of that poor distracted Madman, who incessantly ran about the Streets of the City, crying, “Oh! the great and dreadful God!”
After Breakfast, my Father said to me, “Cherry, I shall be absent for an Hour or two, but you may expect me punctually at Dinner.”
I said, “Oh, Father! why must you go forth? is there any pressing Occasion?”
“Why, yes, there is,” said he, “for a Man who owes me Money is going to make the Plague a Pretext for leaving the Country, and has succeeded, I understand, in getting a clean Bill of Health.”
I said, “Let it be, if it be no great Matter.”
149“Nay,” he said gently, “it is a great Matter to People in our Condition, with whom Trade is at a Stand-still. I have not yet held aloof from any necessary Affairs, but I give you my Word I will run no needless Risks.”
And so was going forth, when I said, “There is a little white on your shoulder,” and brushed it off with my Apron. When I had done it, he turned about and kissed me.
We were to have Bacon and Eggs that Day. I had a Presentiment he would be after his Time, in spite of what he had said, and told Dolly not to fry them till he came in. Hour after Hour passed, long after Dinner-time, and still he came not. Then I grew troubled, and kept looking along the Bridge.
At last, when it was growing dusk, I 150put on my Hood and went to the Bridge Gate. I said to the Gate-keeper, “Did you see my Father pass the Gate this Morning, Master Princeps?”
“Yes, Mistress Cherry, I did,” returned he, “more by Token he said he was going either through or to Lime Street, I forget which.”
I said, “I can’t think why he don’t come back.”
“Oh!” says he, “he’ll be back presently,” which, though spoken entirely at random, yet being uttered in a cheerful Tone, somewhat heartened me, and I returned Home.
Master Benskin was putting up his Shop Shutters. I said, “I can’t think what has become of my Father, Master Benskin.” He said, “Has not he come Home? Oh, Something unforeseen must have delayed him. You know 151that might happen to any of us.” And put the Screw in his last Shutter.
I said, “What should you do if you were me?” He said, “Well, I’m sure I can’t tell what I should do—I don’t see I could do Anything—He’ll come Home presently, I dare say ... don’t be uneasy.” And went in. I thought, “Job’s Comforters are ye all.”
About ten o’ the Clock at Night, I went down to the Bridge Gate again. They were shutting it up for the Night, and making up the great Bonfire in the Middle of the Street. This Time I could hardly speak for crying; I said, “Master Princeps, I can’t think why my Father doesn’t come back! I think Something must have happened!”
“Nay,” says he, “what can have happened? Very likely he has been unexpectedly detained, and thinks he shall 152not be back before the Gate is shut, and is too neighbourly to wish to knock me up. So he takes a Bed with the Friend he is with.—Now we’ve got it all clear, depend upon it!”
“But,” said I, “there’s no Friend he can be with, that I know of.”
“Why, in Lime Street!” says he, with all the Confidence imaginable.
“Lime Street? Dear Master Princeps, my Father knows nobody in Lime Street.”
—“Don’t he though?” says he doubtfully. “Well, I’m sure I think he said he was going through or to Lime Street, I can’t justly remember which.”
I turned away in deep Disappointment and Trouble. As I passed under the deep Shade of the Houses, some one coming close up to me, said, “Cherry! pretty Cherry! is that you?” But it was not 153my Father’s Voice, and I passed on in Disgust. I would not fasten the House-door, and sat just within it all Night, a Candle set in the Window. I opened my Bible at random, in Hope of Something to hearten and comfort.—The Words I lighted on were, “I sought him, but could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no Answer.” And the Page was wet with my Tears.
As soon as Day broke, I was again at the Door. People going to Market early looked at me strangely as they passed. It struck me my Appearance was not very tidy, so I went in, washed and re-dressed myself, which refreshed me a little, drank a Cup of Milk, and then put on my Hood and went down to the Gate. I said, “Master Princeps, I can’t think what’s come to my Father.”
“Bless my Soul!” cries he, “what, 154has he not been Home all Night? Then you see, he must be sleeping out, and will not have risen yet, to disturb his Friend’s Family. So, go your Ways back, Mistress Cherry, and don’t be fretting; rely on it he will return as soon as he has breakfasted, which he cannot have done yet.”
So I turned away, sad at my Heart; and as I passed John Armytage’s Shop, I looked up at Violet’s Window, and saw her dressed, and just putting back her white Curtains. She looked down on me, and nodded, and smiled, but I shook my Head sorrowfully, and turned my Face away. Before I reached my own Door, I felt some one twitching my Cloak behind, and she comes up to me all panting.
“Cherry! dear Cherry!” says she breathlessly, “what’s the Matter?”
155“I’ve lost my Father,” said I, with filling Eyes.
“Dead!” cries she, looking affrighted.
“He may be,” said I, bursting into Tears, “for he has not come Home all Night.”
“Oh, if that’s all,” says she, putting her Arm round me and drawing me into the House, “all may yet be well.—How many Women might cry, Cherry, if they thought their Husbands and Fathers were dead, every Time they stayed out all Night! Come, tell me all about it——” And she entered with such Concern into my Grief that its Bitterness was allayed.
“Come,” she said, “let us give him till Dinner-time—he may drop in any Minute, you know, and if you go looking for him, you know not where, you may miss him. So give him till 156Dinner-time, and after that, if he comes not, go and knock at every Door in Lime Street, if you will.”
And she stayed, wiling the slow Time as long as she could with talking of this and that. At length, Dinner-time came; I could scarce await it, and directly the Clock struck, I started forth. It occurred to me I would go to Mark.
As I approached the Gate, I heard Master Princeps say to the second Gate-keeper, “I’ll lay you a Wager this Girl is coming again to ask me why she can’t find her Father.”
 
Cherry seeking her father
Instead of which, I only said as I came up to him, “I’m going to look for my Fath............