down to rest me, but turned from her, and lying on my face,
wept, and kissed the ground that he had set his foot on.
I could not conceal my disorder so much from the woman but
that she perceived it, and thought I was not well, which I was
obliged to pretend was true; upon which she pressed me to rise,
the ground being damp and dangerous, which I did accordingly,
and walked away.
As I was going back again, and still talking of this gentleman
and his son, a new occasion of melancholy offered itself thus.
The woman began, as if she would tell me a story to divert me:
‘There goes,’ says she, ‘a very odd tale among the neighbours
where this gentleman formerly live.’ ‘What was that?’ said
I. ‘Why,’ says she, ‘that old gentleman going to England,
when he was a young man, fell in love with a young lady there,
one of the finest women that ever was seen, and married her,
and brought her over hither to his mother who was then living.
He liver here several years with her,’ continued she, ‘and had
several children by her, of which the young gentleman that was
with him now was one; but after some time, the old gentlewoman,
his mother, talking to her of something relating to herself when
she was in England, and of her circumstances in England,
which were bad enough, the daughter-in-law began to be very
much surprised and uneasy; and, in short, examining further
into things, it appeared past all contradiction that the old
gentlewoman was her own mother, and that consequently that
son was his wife’s own brother, which struck the whole family
with horror, and put them into such confusion that it had almost
ruined them all. The young woman would not live with him;
the son, her brother and husband, for a time went distracted;
and at last the young woman went away for England, and has
never been hears of since.’
It is easy to believe that I was strangely affected with this story,
but ’tis impossible to describe the nature of my disturbance. I
seemed astonished at the story, and asked her a thousand
questions about the particulars, which I found she was
thoroughly acquainted with. At last I began to inquire into the
circumstances of the family, how the old gentlewoman, I mean
my mother, died, and how she left what she had; for my mother
had promised me very solemnly, that when she died she would
do something for me, and leave it so, as that, if I was living, I
should one way or other come at it, without its being in the
power of her son, my brother and husband, to prevent it. She
told me she did not know exactly how it was ordered, but she
had been told that my mother had left a sum of money, and
had tied her plantation for the payment of it, to be made good
to the daughter, if ever she could be heard of, either in England
or elsewhere; and that the trust was left with this son, who was
the person that we saw with his father.
This was news too good for me to make light of, and, you
may be sure, filled my heart with a thousand thoughts, what
courseI should take, how, and when, and in what manner I
should make myself known, or whether I should ever make
myself know or no.
Here was a perplexity that I had not indeed skill to manage
myself in, neither knew I what course to take. It lay heavy
upon my mind night and day. I could neither sleep nor
converse, sothat my husband perceived it, and wondered what
ailed me, strove to divert me, but it was all to no purpose. He
pressed me to tell him what it was troubled me, but I put it off,
till at last, importuning me continually, I was forced to form
a story, which yet had a plain truth to lay it upon too. It old
him I was troubled because I found we must shift our quarters
and alter our scheme of settling, for that I found I should be