The Squire’s Garden  
EFORE I went to Bed, I peeped out of my Window, and saw the full Moon shining over the broad gravel Walks and Fishponds; and I thought how much I should like to go round the Garden before Breakfast. However, when I woke in the Morning, I feared I had been oversleeping myself, so dressed in a great Hurry, and went down Stairs. There I found two Maids flooding the great Hall with Pails of Water, and they told me we were to breakfast in the green Parlour, but not 258for an Hour yet. So I strayed out into the Garden, where were still a good many Flowers, though the Season was so late, backed by Evergreen Hedges, and Rows of tall Trees that were turning yellow and scarlet; and it seemed to me just like the Garden of Eden.
So I went on and on, thinking it mighty pleasant, and wondering what might be the Names of some of the Flowers; and at length I came to a Bowling-green, of wonderful fine Turf, between high Horn-beam Hedges; and having a Sun-dial at one End, and a little brick Summer-house faced with Stone at the other. Into the Summer-house I went; and there, with all his Books and Papers about him, sat Master Blower writing.
 
A Bowling-Green of wonderful Fine Turf.
“Ah, Cherry!” says he, holding out his Hand, “so you’ve found out my Snuggery! 259Have they sent you to summon me to Breakfast?”
“No, Sir,” said I, “I did not know you were here.” And turned away.
“Stop a Minute,” says he, hastily putting up his Papers, “and we will take a Turn together round this wonderful Garden. The Garden of your Dream, Cherry.”
I said how very odd it was I should have dreamed about it,—the Garden of my Dream being so exactly like the Reality.
“Why, you simple Girl,” says he, laughing; “because I must have described it to you before, though you and I had forgotten it!”
I felt quite sure in my own Mind that he had not.
“Well,” says he, setting out with me along the Bowling-green, “what’s the 260News, Cherry? The Plague, you say, is abating, but not gone. Have you seen or heard Anything of my poor People?”
I said yes. Mistress Peach had come to me on my sending for her the Evening before I left; and had told me how Things were going on.
“And how are they going on?” said he.
“Well, Sir, it would be a poor Compliment to you, if they were going on as well in your Absence, as in your Presence.”
“That’s true,” says he, looking grave; “but, for Particulars.”
“Many Persons in Trouble of one kind or another, knock at your Door; and when they find they cannot see you, go away in Tears.”
“Poor Souls!” said he, much moved, 261“I will return to them shortly. I think I am almost well enough now, Cherry. They think I am neglecting them?”
“No, Sir, they are very sorry you need recruiting; but they are sorry for themselves too.”
“It’s a very nice Point,” says he musingly, “when we ought to lie by. I believe, had I not left Town when I did, I might have been dead now—and yet, perhaps I was like a Soldier deserting his Post.”
I said, “No, Sir, you were liker to a Soldier carried off the Battlefield to the Hospital.”
“Thank you, Cherry,” says he, taking my Hand and drawing it under his Arm. We had now reached the End of the Bowling-green; but instead of turning into the Garden, we continued walking up and down.
262“And what else?” says he. “Come, let me hear all.”
“Well, Sir,” said I, “there’s not much more to tell——”
“Something, though, I can see!” said he. “Come! out with it, Cherry!”
“Sir,” said I, “it’s of no Use for us to trouble and vex ourselves about what wicked People will say of us in mere wantonness.”
“Sometimes, though, we may hear the Truth from an Enemy,” says he. “And what do wicked, wanton People say of me?”
“Why, Sir,—some very evil-minded, malapert Person hath writ on your Church-door, ‘A Pulpit to Let!’”
 
The Squire’s Garden
“The Rascal!” said he hastily, and colouring very red. “Why now, did I not keep on, Sabbaths and Week-days, till the Plague-swellings were actually 263in my Throat, though my Congregation often consisted of only two or three old Women? Is not this enough to provoke a Man, Cherry?”
I said, “Yes, Sir,—only there’s no Use in being provoked.”
“None, none,” says he, much perturbed,—“God forgive me for it!—I can hardly have Patience, though, with them.”
I said, “Dear Sir, you must have Nothing but Patience with them.”
“You are right, you are right,” says he, cooling, but still much moved. “Ill or well, I must go back to them forthwith.... The Fact is, there is a Matter I would gladly have settled here, a little at my Leisure.—But, Duty before all! So, I’ll go back, Cherry, to mine.”
I smiled a little as I said, “Somebody has been doing Duty for you, the last Week or ten Days, Sir.”
264“Who?” cried he.
I said, “An Independent Minister.”
A complex Kind of Expression crossed his Face; for a Moment he looked pained and provoked, and then burst out a-laughing.
“God bless the worthy Fellow!” cries he, “I’ll do him a good Turn if I can, the first Time he’ll let me! ‘The good Lord accept every one that prepareth his Heart to seek God, the Lord God of his Fathers, even though he be not cleansed according to the Purification of the Sanctuary!’—Well, Cherry, I must go! and that forthwith,—I would fain have tarried here while your Visit lasted.”
I looked quite blank at the Idea of being left behind; and said, “Must I, then, stay?”
“Why,” cried he, “what is to prevent 265you? Your Visit is not to me, Cherry!”
I said, “Oh, Sir, but ...” and stopped, for I did not know whether it were right to say I should feel so lonely without him. But the Tears came into my Eyes.
“I hope,” says he, in his kindest Way, “you will stay and have a very pleasant Visit.”
I said, “It won’t,—it can’t be pleasant now.”
“Cherry,” he said, yet more affectionately, “we shall soon meet again.... You shake your Head.—Well, our Lives are not in our own keeping, certainly, and may be called in the next Minute, here as well as in London. And I should not like to die away from my Post. But, Cherry, since you are inexpressibly dear to me, and I think I am, in a less Degree, 266dear to you, why, when we meet next, should we ever part again?—Nay, hear me, Cherry! for I have long meant to say this, though not quite so soon.... I thought it would seem so abrupt; I wanted to bring you to it by Degrees, lest I should get an Answer I did not like. For, indeed, Cherry, I know how much too old I am for you, how thoroughly unworthy of you.”
I could not stand this, and cried, “Oh, how can you say such Things, Sir! Unworthy of me, indeed! when any Woman——”
Might be proud to have you, was my Thought, but I did not say it.
“Cherry,” says he, “there was never——” And just at that Moment a Man shouted, “High!” at the Top of his Voice, and then, “Breakfast!”
267“We’re keeping them waiting,” said I, slipping my Hand from his Arm, “and you’ve left your Papers all blowing about in the Summer-house.” And so, ran off to the House.
Fain would I not have gone straight to Breakfast, but there was no Help for it; and the Squire kept loading my Plate, and yet saying I ate Nothing. He and his Lady were wondrous sorry to hear Master Blower say he must return to Town the next Day; and looked rather askance at me for having brought down any Tidings that should summon him thither. After Breakfast, however, he took his Brother aside to explain to him how needful was his Return to his Parish; and Mistress Blower, bringing forth an immense Quantity of Patchwork of very intricate Contrivance, said, “Now, you and I will do a good Morning’s Work:”—and 268told me it was a Fancy of hers to furnish a little Bed-chamber with Patchery, lined with Pink, and fringed with White. However, Master Blower put a Check to all this, as far as my Help went, by coming in and saying that as this was to be his last Day in the Country, he wanted to take a long Walk with me, and shew me the finest View in the County. Mistress Blower made one or two Obj............