MY LADY NOBODY
Maarten Maartens
Paperback
(CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, Jan. 29, 2016)
The prim vegetable garden, with its ranks of gay salads and pompous cabbages, lay serenely roasting, as vegetable gardens delight to do, in unabated verdure. About Ursulaâs corner the lattice-work of creepers put forth some faint attempt at a stunted shadow. DominĂ© Rovers came down the walk, his coat-flaps brushing the currant-bushes. âWho reads the evening sky? Who knows if winds be turning?â âUrsula!â âYes, Captain.â âCome in and shell your pease, while I recite you my sermon.â âBut I must pick them first, father!â âTrue. What I love best in you, Ursula, is that you are as logical as if you were not a woman.â The pastor drew nearer to the scaffolding of greenery, and strove vainly to shelter his tall figure in its shade. He was a spare, soldierly-looking man, with an honest complexion and silvery hair. You knew he had a very gentle countenance until you gave him cause to turn a wrathful look upon you. âI might as well begin at once,â he said, and, proud though she was of her fatherâs preaching, the girlâs soul rose in momentary protest on behalf of the birds and flowers. âI have chosen a text for to-morrow, Ursula, which has troubled my thoughts all through the week. All through the week, I couldnât understand it. And when I came to look it out, it wasnât there at all.â Ursulaâs dutiful lips said, âI see.â âI imagined the verse to be as follows: âFlee from youthful lusts that war against the soul.â But I see the word used is âAbstain.â I could not believe it of St. Peter that he would have instructed any man to run away in battle. You will find the âfleeâ in Timothy, my dear, but the connection is not the same.â DominĂ© Rovers paused and stood tenderly watching his natty daughter in her cool print dress. Suddenly he burst out quite impetuously, âResist! Resist! That is the true Bible language. Resist the devil. Resist temptation. And so I shall tell them to-morrow morning. âDearly beloved,â I shall say, âlife is aâââ âWar,â cried Ursula, facing round. A bold blackbird had alighted on one of the stakes, and sang loudly of peace and good-will. âDonât interrupt me, childââthe DominĂ©âs eyes grew vexedââI know I have said it before; they cannot hear the truth too often. Life is a battle, dearly beloved. Against the city of Mansoul all the powers of evil band themselves together. But in the vanguard march ever the lusts of the flesh. You cannot escape the conflict. And thereforeââthe speaker lifted an energetic armââremember what said the Corinthiansâthe grandsires of St. Paulâs Corinthiansâto the Spartans, their allies, âHe that, for love of pleasure, shrinks from battle, will most swiftly be deprived of those very delights which caused him to abstain.â My subject divides itselfâUrsula, you are not attendingâinto seven natural parts: the enemy, the weapons, theââ Nobody listened. All Godâs creation, busy with its individual loves and pleasures, luxuriously lapped in the sensuous sunlight and rejoicing in universal allurement, was twittering and fluttering and blushing and blooming in clouds of perfume and pollen. The great All-father smiled down upon his manifold childrenâand shrivelled them up. Ursula was not listening. Her father was a dear, dear man, but she had heard it all so often before! And fortune had pity upon her and upon the sleepily staring marigolds, and created a diversion ere the sermon was ten sentences old. Shrill shrieks of childish protest under punishment arose from beyond the garden-wall. The pastor of an unruly flock immediately ran to peer over the bushes. And Ursula followed more slowly, flitting into the full morning glow. Out on the gleaming high-road a peasant-woman was belaboring an eight-year-old urchin in a whirlwind of dust. âIâll teach you to use bad words,â she was screaming. âDamn me, I canât make out, for the life oâ me, what taught the child to swear!â