"What is all this?" I said; "has any body hurt the child?"
"No, no, Mr Sneezum!" exclaimed Mrs Morgan, without looking at me; "leave her alone for a minute or two; it will soon be over."
"How do feel, dear?" enquired Miss Letitia.
"Are you any better, love?" asked Miss Sophia.
And it was very evident they gave themselves no concern about the nearly fatal accident we had met with, which had affected poor Martha so deeply; so I became a little warm.
"Very pretty--very pretty this--upon my word! What in heaven's name is the matter with you all? Here has been that blundering booby William, pushed his father and me down-stairs, and Martha seems the only one that would care a farthing if we had both been killed."
Upon this the girl made a great effort, and lifted up her head; but the moment her eyes rested on me she gave a great scream--wild laughter mixed with the most dreadful sobs; and she was fairly off in an hysterical attack.
"Why, she's worse than she was," I said; but old Morgan took me aside.
"Don't you see," he said, "that she's of a most affectionate, gentle nature, and that William's rushing off in the way he did"--
"Ay, to be sure, and upsetting me in such a dangerous manner. Poor thing! is it all for my sake do you think she's crying?" So I went and took her hand, and said--"Don't cry, Martha, don't cry--I'm not a bit hurt--so be a good girl, and don't vex yourself any more."
Upon this, Mrs Morgan looked at me as if she thought me deranged--so did Miss Letitia--and so did Miss Sophia; and even Martha, when she looked at me again, fell back in fresh fit, holloing "His head! his head"--and this time it was more laughter than sobs.
"Come away--come away," said old Morgan at last; "no wonder you frighten them all to death. What the deuce is that you've got on your head?"
And there stood I with my brows enveloped by the flower-pot.
I saw the Morgans were making a dead set to take me in. Sometimes it was Miss Letitia, and sometimes Miss Sophia--and always the mother. To hear that woman talk of her daughters, you would swear that two such were never known on earth before. Their sweetness--their temper--their beauty--the numbers of people that were in love with them--the hosts of rich and handsome fellows they had rejected, and the decided turn both of them had for a quiet country life, and the society of a well-educated, intellectual man of a certain age. She was a wonderful woman Mrs Morgan, and I really believe she thought she was speaking the simple truth all the time. But it wouldn't do--I judged for myself, and never took the least notice of all her hints and boastings. I tried to have them less about the house than they used to be; but nothing would keep them away--they always pretended it was for the sake of Martha Brown--a very likely story that they should trouble their heads about my uncle's anonymous contribution to the population returns, when his veritable nephew and heir was to be had by hook or crook. But I don't mean any disparagement by that to the poor little girl herself--far from it--she was the nicest creature in the world, and really not so black as I had thought; and she was now nearly twenty-one, and played and sung--and such an excellent critic, too! I always read my writings to her the moment they were finished, and she never found the slightest fault in any of them. I had left my description of Maria Valentine de Courcy incompleted for several years--for it is a long time now since the foolish adventure of the flower-pot first showed me that she took a tenderer interest in me than merely that of a cousin--and I now determined to give my second chapter the finishing touch, and consult her on the farther conduct of the story.