The Queen’s Twin Page #2

"The Queen’s Twin" is a novella by Sarah Orne Jewett that explores themes of friendship, community, and the complexities of human relationships in a small coastal town. The story centers on the interactions between the protagonist and her close friend, as they navigate the trials and tribulations of life, love, and societal expectations. Through rich, evocative prose and detailed characterizations, Jewett paints a vivid picture of the New England landscape and the intertwined lives of its inhabitants, highlighting the subtleties of their emotional bonds and the influence of their environment. The novella offers a poignant reflection on the nature of companionship and the impact of personal choices on one's sense of self and belonging.

• Short story

								

Queen Victoria, why Mis’ Abby Martin’ll tell you everything. And the
prospect from that hill I spoke of is as beautiful as anything in this
world; ’tis worth while your goin’ over to see her just for that.”

“When can you go again?” I demanded eagerly.

“I should say to-morrow,” answered Mrs. Todd; “yes, I should say
to-morrow; but I expect ’twould be better to take one day to rest, in
between. I considered that question as I was comin’ home, but I hurried
so that there wa’n’t much time to think. It’s a dreadful long way to go
with a horse; you have to go ’most as far as the old Bowden place an’
turn off to the left, a master long, rough road, and then you have to
turn right round as soon as you get there if you mean to get home before
nine o’clock at night. But to strike across country from here, there’s
plenty o’ time in the shortest day, and you can have a good hour or
two’s visit beside; ’tain’t but a very few miles, and it’s pretty all
the way along. There used to be a few good families over there, but
they’ve died and scattered, so now she’s far from neighbors. There, she
really cried, she was so glad to see anybody comin’. You’ll be amused to
hear her talk about the Queen, but I thought twice or three times as I
set there ’twas about all the company she’d got.”

“Could we go day after to-morrow?” I asked eagerly.

“’Twould suit me exactly,” said Mrs. Todd.

                                  II.

One can never be so certain of good New England weather as in the days
when a long easterly storm has blown away the warm late-summer mists,
and cooled the air so that however bright the sunshine is by day, the
nights come nearer and nearer to frostiness. There was a cold freshness
in the morning air when Mrs. Todd and I locked the house door behind us;
we took the key of the fields into our own hands that day, and put out
across country as one puts out to sea. When we reached the top of the
ridge behind the town it seemed as if we had anxiously passed the harbor
bar and were comfortably in open sea at last.

“There, now!” proclaimed Mrs. Todd, taking a long breath, “now I do feel
safe. It’s just the weather that’s liable to bring somebody to spend the
day; I’ve had a feeling of Mis’ Elder Caplin from North Point bein’
close upon me ever since I waked up this mornin’, an’ I didn’t want to
be hampered with our present plans. She’s a great hand to visit; she’ll
be spendin’ the day somewhere from now till Thanksgivin’, but there’s
plenty o’ places at the Landin’ where she goes, an’ if I ain’t there
she’ll just select another. I thought mother might be in, too, ’tis so
pleasant; but I run up the road to look off this mornin’ before you was
awake, and there was no sign o’ the boat. If they hadn’t started by that
time they wouldn’t start, just as the tide is now; besides, I see a lot
o’ mackerel-men headin’ Green Island way, and they’ll detain William.
No, we’re safe now, an’ if mother should be comin’ in to-morrow we’ll
have all this to tell her. She an’ Mis’ Abby Martin’s very old friends.”

We were walking down the long pasture slopes towards the dark woods and
thickets of the low ground. They stretched away northward like an
unbroken wilderness; the early mists still dulled much of the color and
made the uplands beyond look like a very far-off country.

“It ain’t so far as it looks from here,” said my companion reassuringly,
“but we’ve got no time to spare either,” and she hurried on, leading the
way with a fine sort of spirit in her step; and presently we struck into
the old Indian footpath, which could be plainly seen across the
long-unploughed turf of the pastures, and followed it among the thick,
low-growing spruces. There the ground was smooth and brown under foot,
and the thin-stemmed trees held a dark and shadowy roof overhead. We
walked a long way without speaking; sometimes we had to push aside the
branches, and sometimes we walked in a broad aisle where the trees were
larger. It was a solitary wood, birdless and beastless; there was not
even a rabbit to be seen, or a crow high in air to break the silence.

“I don’t believe the Queen ever saw such a lonesome trail as this,” said
Mrs. Todd, as if she followed the thoughts that were in my mind. Our
visit to Mrs. Abby Martin seemed in some strange way to concern the high
affairs of royalty. I had just been thinking of English landscapes, and
of the solemn hills of Scotland with their lonely cottages and
stone-walled sheepfolds, and the wandering flocks on high cloudy
pastures. I had often been struck by the quick interest and familiar
allusion to certain members of the royal house which one found in
distant neighborhoods of New England; whether some old instincts of
personal loyalty have survived all changes of time and national
vicissitudes, or whether it is only that the Queen’s own character and
disposition have won friends for her so far away, it is impossible to
tell. But to hear of a twin sister was the most surprising proof of
intimacy of all, and I must confess that there was something remarkably
exciting to the imagination in my morning walk. To think of being
presented at Court in the usual way was for the moment quite
commonplace.

                                  III.

Mrs. Todd was swinging her basket to and fro like a schoolgirl as she
walked, and at this moment it slipped from her hand and rolled lightly
along the ground as if there were nothing in it. I picked it up and gave
it to her, whereupon she lifted the cover and looked in with anxiety.

“’Tis only a few little things, but I don’t want to lose ’em,” she
explained humbly. “’Twas lucky you took the other basket if I was goin’
to roll it round. Mis’ Abby Martin complained o’ lacking some pretty
pink silk to finish one o’ her little frames, an’ I thought I’d carry
her some, and I had a bunch o’ gold thread that had been in a box o’
mine this twenty year. I never was one to do much fancy work, but we’re
all liable to be swept away by fashion. And then there’s a small packet
o’ very choice herbs that I gave a good deal of attention to; they’ll
smarten her up and give her the best of appetites, come spring. She was
tellin’ me that spring weather is very wiltin’ an’ tryin’ to her, and
she was beginnin’ to dread it already. Mother’s just the same way; if I
could prevail on mother to take some o’ these remedies in good season
’twould make a world o’ difference, but she gets all down hill before I
have a chance to hear of it, and then William comes in to tell me,
sighin’ and bewailin’, how feeble mother is. ‘Why can’t you remember
’bout them good herbs that I never let her be without?’ I say to him—he
does provoke me so; and then off he goes, sulky enough, down to his
boat. Next thing I know, she comes in to go to meetin’, wantin’ to speak
to everybody and feelin’ like a girl. Mis’ Martin’s case is very much
the same; but she’s nobody to watch her. William’s kind o’ slow-moulded;
but there, any William’s better than none when you get to be Mis’
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