Sylvia's Lovers - Page 54/290

When the latter returned from her afternoon's absence, she stood for

a minute or two on the little flight of steep steps, whitened to a

snowy whiteness; the aspect of the whole house partook of the same

character of irreproachable cleanliness. It was wedged up into a

space which necessitated all sorts of odd projections and

irregularities in order to obtain sufficient light for the interior;

and if ever the being situated in a dusky, confined corner might

have been made an excuse for dirt, Alice Rose's house had that

apology. Yet the small diamond panes of glass in the casement window

were kept so bright and clear that a great sweet-scented-leaved

geranium grew and flourished, though it did not flower profusely.

The leaves seemed to fill the air with fragrance as soon as Hester

summoned up energy enough to open the door. Perhaps that was because

the young Quaker, William Coulson, was crushing one between his

finger and thumb, while waiting to set down Alice's next words. For

the old woman, who looked as if many years of life remained in her

yet, was solemnly dictating her last will and testament.

It had been on her mind for many months; for she had something to

leave beyond the mere furniture of the house. Something--a few

pounds--in the hands of John and Jeremiah Foster, her cousins: and

it was they who had suggested the duty on which she was engaged. She

had asked William Coulson to write down her wishes, and he had

consented, though with some fear and trepidation; for he had an idea

that he was infringing on a lawyer's prerogative, and that, for

aught he knew, he might be prosecuted for making a will without a

licence, just as a man might be punished for selling wine and

spirits without going through the preliminary legal forms that give

permission for such a sale. But to his suggestion that Alice should

employ a lawyer, she had replied-'That would cost me five pounds sterling; and thee canst do it as

well, if thee'll but attend to my words.' So he had bought, at her desire, a black-edged sheet of fine-wove

paper, and a couple of good pens, on the previous Saturday; and

while waiting for her to begin her dictation, and full serious

thought himself, he had almost unconsciously made the grand flourish

at the top of the paper which he had learnt at school, and which was

there called a spread-eagle.

'What art thee doing there?' asked Alice, suddenly alive to his

proceedings.

Without a word he showed her his handiwork.

'It's a vanity,' said she, 'and 't may make t' will not stand. Folk

may think I were na in my right mind, if they see such fly-legs and

cob-webs a-top. Write, "This is my doing, William Coulson, and none

of Alice Rose's, she being in her sound mind."' 'I don't think it's needed,' said William. Nevertheless he wrote

down the words.