[ Gibson / Lost Alice ]
Mary W. A. Gibson (dates unknown) has not been fully identified. She contributed six articles to Charles Dickens' weekly literary magazine Household Words, but beyond that I've not been able to find any information about her.
The April 24, 1858, issue of Household Words included this short work of fiction by Gibson entitled "Lost Alice."
This story examines the arc of the relationship bewtween a serious middle-aged lawyer, Frank, and the free-spirited woman, Alice, he eventually marries. He first meets her when, visiting his aunt in the countryside, he goes for a walk through the woods and fields. Pushing through some underbrush he comes upon the following:
A girl was half-sitting, half-lying, in the sunshine beside the little lake, throwing pebbles into the water, and watching the
ripples that spread and widened to the other shore. A great black Newfoundland dog was standing between me and her, showing a
formidable row of strong white teeth, and looking me threateningly in the face.
She started, and looked sharply round, and saw me standing in the little grove with the dog between us. She burst out laughing. (XVII: 439)
The two young people (who are distantly related), chat for a while, then prepare to return to town together:
"Fred, bring me my hat," she said to her dog, affecting to yawn. "It is time for us to go home to supper, I suppose. Are you
hungry, cousin Frank?"
"Yes – no, " I answered, with my thoughts still running on that blush.
She laughed good-naturedly, and took the hat from the Newfoundland, who had brought it in his mouth.
"How fond you are of that great dog," I said, as we rose from our seat beneath the tree.
"Fond of him?" She stooped down over him with a sudden impetuous movement, took his head between her two hands, and kissed
the beauty-spot on his forehead. "Fond of him, cousin Frank? Why, the dog is my idol! He is the only thing on earth who is or has
been true to me, and the only thing" She stopped short, and coloured.
"That you have been true to," I said, finishing the sentence for her.
"So people say," she answered, with a laugh. "But look at him – look at those beautiful eyes, and tell me if any one could
help loving him. My poor old Fred! So honest in this weary world."
She sighed, and patted his head again, and he stood wagging his tail and looking up into her face, with eyes that were as she had said, beautiful, and, what was better far, brimful of love and honesty.
"I doubt if you will keep pace with us," she said, after we had walked a few steps; "and Fred is longing for a race; I always
give him one through the woods. Would you mind?"
"Oh dear, no!"
The next moment she was off like the wind, and the dog tearing after her, barking till the woods rang again. I saw her that night no more. (439 - 440)
Frank slowly falls in love with Alice, captivated by her free spirit. Here's one instance involving the Newf:
When she raced through the grove or orchard with the great dog at her heels, I smiled, and patted Fred on the head. . . . (440)
Frank, having been out one evening, returns to his aunt's home to find Alice and her dog sitting on the front step:
The full moon shone fairly in a sky without a cloud. I unfastened the gate and went in; and there in the open door sat Alice, with a light shawl thrown over her shoulders, her head resting on the shaggy coat of the Newfoundland dog. His beautiful brown eyes watched me as I came up the path, but he did not stir. (441)
Frank and Alice marry, despite a significant difference in their ages and personalities. And sure enough, they grow apart as Frank becomes increasingly devoted to his work and more indifferent to Alice's emotional needs. Indeed, he actively works to suppress her gaiety — only to find one day that he had succeeded. . . .
. . . she had learned to doubt my affection for her. I felt this by the look in her eyes now and then, and by the way in which she
seemed to cling to her dog, as if his fidelity and love were now her only hope. But I was too proud to own myself in the wrong,
and the breach widened day by day.
In the midst of all this estrangement the dog sickened. There was a week of misgiving on Alice's part, when she sat beside him with her books, or writing all the time – there was a day when both books and manuscript were put away, and she was bending over him, with her tears falling fast, as she tried to hush his moans, and looked into his fast glazing eyes – and there was an hour of stillness, when she lay on the low couch, with her arm around his neck, neither speaking nor stirring. And when the poor creature's last breath was drawn, she bent over him with a passionate burst of grief, kissed the white spot upon his forehead, and closed the soft, dark eyes, that even in death were turned towards her with a loving look.
She did not come to me for sympathy. She watched alone, while the gardener dug a grave and buried him beneath the study window. She never mentioned him to me, and never paid her daily visit to his grave till I was busy with my papers for the evening. (442)
Newfoundlands are not mentioned again in this story, though Alice does acquire a King Charles spaniel on a visit to Italy which did not include her husband. Their attempts to rekindle their love never really succeed and everyone lives unhappily ever after.