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Updated: May 21, 2025
The last and youngest Pyncheon was a little country girl of seventeen, whose father another of the judge's cousins was dead, and whose mother had taken another husband. II. The House without Sunshine Miss Hepzibah Pyncheon was reduced to the business of setting up a pretty shop, and that in the Pyncheon house where she had spent all her days.
"You are stronger than I," said Hepzibah, "and you have no pity in your strength. Clifford is not now insane; but the interview which you insist upon may go far to make him so. Nevertheless, I will call Clifford!" Hepzibah went in search of her brother, and Judge Pyncheon flung himself down in an old chair in the parlour. He took his watch from his pocket and held it in his hand.
The dreary night for, oh, how dreary seems its haunted waste, behind us! gives place to a fresh, transparent, cloudless morn. Blessed, blessed radiance! The daybeam even what little of it finds its way into this always dusky parlor seems part of the universal benediction, annulling evil, and rendering all goodness possible, and happiness attainable. Will Judge Pyncheon now rise up from his chair?
"Do not you see, fellow," said the high-sheriff of the county, taking the servant aside, "that this is no less a man than the lieutenant-governor? Summon Colonel Pyncheon at once! I know that he received letters from England this morning; and, in the perusal and consideration of them, an hour may have passed away without his noticing it.
And keep you the House of the Seven Gables! It is too dear bought an inheritance, and too heavy with the curse upon it, to be shifted yet awhile from the Colonel's posterity." Mr. Pyncheon tried to speak, but what with fear and passion could make only a gurgling murmur in his throat. The carpenter smiled. "Aha, worshipful sir! so you have old Maule's blood to drink!" said he jeeringly.
Pyncheon was of opinion that they might at least be made matter of discussion. He himself had no personal attachment for the house, nor any pleasant associations connected with his childish residence in it.
The next item on his list was to give orders for some fruit-trees, of a rare variety, to be deliverable at his country-seat in the ensuing autumn. Yes, buy them, by all means; and may the peaches be luscious in your mouth, Judge Pyncheon! After this comes something more important.
The more I look at it, the more it puzzles me, and I begin to suspect that a man's bewilderment is the measure of his wisdom. Men and women, and children, too, are such strange creatures, that one never can be certain that he really knows them; nor ever guess what they have been from what he sees them to be now. Judge Pyncheon! Clifford!
And it was a wonderful coincidence, the good lady thought, that the artist should have planted these scarlet-flowering beans which the humming-birds sought far and wide, and which had not grown in the Pyncheon garden before for forty years on the very summer of Clifford's return.
"I rejoice to hear so favourable and so ingenious an account of my Cousin Clifford," said the benevolent judge. "It is possible that you have never heard of Clifford Pyncheon, and know nothing of his history. But is Clifford in the parlour? I will just step in and see him. There is no need to announce me. I know the house, and know my Cousin Hepzibah, and her brother Clifford likewise.
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