A MORNING WALK
IT was a beautifully fine January morning on which Violet Wyndham,
in company with Mrs. Reed and Ann, had her first glimpse of the town
of Barford. The snow had been cleared from the roads, and the sun was
shining, whilst a keen, north-east wind—exhilarating to strong,
healthy people—was quickly drying up the pavements.
"I shall not be surprised if we have a spell of frost now," remarked
Mrs. Reed, as they left Laureston Square and turned into a wide street
with large, handsome shops on either side; "I am very fond of frosty
weather, myself; but, for the sake of the poor, I hope we shall not
get much of it."
"Are there many poor people in Barford?" asked Violet. The street was
thronged with well-clad, prosperous-looking folks, she observed.
"Oh, yes, indeed there are!" Ann hastened to reply. "This is the new
part of the town, Violet; but in the old part—oh, there it is far
different from this!"
"We will take a walk through the old part as soon as I have finished
my shopping, then Violet will understand better what Barford is
like," said Mrs. Reed; "this is really only a suburb of the place,
just as Streatham is a suburb of London."
"I don't know much about London," Violet admitted, "hardly anything,
indeed. Once father took Ruth and me to St Paul's, and another time
we went to the National Gallery, and he said he would take us to see
the shops before Christmas, but he was very busy just then, and—and it
costs money to go about, you know."
"Of course it does."
Mrs. Reed spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, and Violet, who had
expected that she would evince great astonishment at her ignorance
of London, was agreeably disappointed. By-and-by, Mrs. Reed having
executed all her errands, at a whisper from Ann turned down a side
street, which brought them to a large, red brick building, standing
in its own grounds, which were entered from the road by a big,
iron gate.
"There, Violet!" cried Ann. Violet looked at her inquiringly. "This is
Helmsford College," Ann explained; "we day-scholars go in by that
gate, it is locked now because Miss Orchardson, the principal, has not
returned from her holidays yet, and the servants use a back entrance.
What do you think of the place from the outside?"
"It is very big," Violet answered, somewhat awed by the size of the
building; "are there a great many pupils?"
"Nearly two hundred—that is, counting both boarders and day-scholars."
"So many as that!" exclaimed Violet. "I do hope I shall be put in your
class, Ann," she continued eagerly, "but I am afraid that is not very
probable."
"Why not?" inquired Ann. "Oh, you think because I am a year older than
you that I know more than you do. I'm not at all forward for my age,
am I, mother?"
Mrs. Reed shook her head smilingly. She had already discovered that
Violet was, in many ways, a precocious girl, and thought it very
likely she was as advanced in general knowledge as her daughter.
Turning away from Helmsford College, they now left the fashionable
suburb behind them, and soon Violet found the streets, through which
they passed, narrower, the houses dingier, and the air less fresh and
clear. Tall buildings with small windows and high chimneys appeared in
sight, and the only pedestrians they met were those of the working
classes, most of whom looked insufficiently clad and pinched with
cold. Violet wondered how Mrs. Reed had learnt to know her way about
in such a labyrinth of streets. By-and-by, on turning a corner, they
came upon a figure clad in a blue serge gown with an old-fashioned
cloak and bonnet, and they were accosted by the clear, decided voice
of Dr. Elizabeth Ridgeway.
"Mrs. Reed, you Ann too! And here is my little travelling-companion!
How do you do, all of you?"
"We are quite well, thank you," Mrs. Reed answered, as they shook
hands, in turn, with the lady doctor. "Ann and I are showing
Violet—no need to introduce you, I know—something of Barford, and I
have a call to make in this district."
"I see. I am going to visit a patient in that house opposite, a sad
case."
"Indeed?" Mrs. Reed said questioningly.
"Yes. My patient is a widow, the mother of four children, the eldest—
a girl—no older than this child—" nodding at Violet; "the poor woman
has had a severe attack of pneumonia, but, with God's help,
I'm pulling her round. During her illness the eldest girl has been the
main support of the family."
"How?" asked Ann, her eyes kindling with eager interest.
"By charing, my dear. It's a fact. Fancy a charwoman of only fourteen
years old! There's a heroine for you!" And with a nod and a smile the
lady doctor crossed the road, opened the door of the house she had
indicated, and disappeared within.
"This is a district where she has always a great many patients,"
Mrs. Reed explained to Violet, as they proceeded on their way, "they
are mostly poor people who work in the factories."
"But can people like that pay her?" Violet asked, looking at Mrs. Reed
in surprise, and then turning her brown eyes to Ann, who answered
quickly:—
"Oh, very little!"
"They pay her what they can," said Mrs. Reed; "she knows what they can
afford, and charges accordingly; but, frequently, I have no doubt she
gets no remuneration for her services. She was born and brought up in
Barford. Her father was a factory owner who made a large fortune, and
she chose to become a doctor for various reasons. In those days people
looked rather askance at lady doctors, so that when, having taken her
diploma in Edinburgh, she returned to her native town and commenced
to practise, the medical men hereabouts were not very well pleased;
but they soon began to recognise her ability, and, as her patients
for some years were mostly confined to those whom other doctors were
in no wise eager to attend, and she never gave advice free to anyone
who could make payment, they soon treated her with more cordiality.
She leads a most unselfish life—a life devoted to her fellow
creatures, and I do not believe there is a woman more hard worked
in the town than 'Dr. Elizabeth,' as she is generally called, and
certainly there is not one more respected or beloved by all classes."
"But if her father made a large fortune, if she was not poor, why did
she become a doctor to work so hard?" inquired Violet, really puzzled.
"Oh, Violet, don't you understand?" exclaimed Ann. "Why, it was
because she saw that by becoming a doctor she could do such a lot of
good in the world. Doctors often go to see people that clergymen and
ministers know nothing about. It seemed to her that God had been so
bountiful to her in giving her so many talents, money, and health, and
brains—she told me this herself—that she was sure He meant her to use
them in the service of those not so well off as herself."
"In short, she works for Christ's sake," Mrs. Reed said softly, "for
the least of His brethren. Now, Violet, you understand?"
"Y-e-s," Violet answered, rather doubtfully.
"I suppose we are going to see Malvina Medland, mother?" questioned
Ann.
"Yes, my dear," was the response.
"Who is that?" Violet asked. "Malvina! What an uncommon name!"
"Isn't it?" said Ann, smiling. "Malvina is a poor, deformed girl,
she has something amiss with her spine and she suffers terribly in her
back sometimes, but she is the most cheerful body in the world,
I should think. She lives with her mother and sister—Lottie,
the sister is called—who both work in a factory. Malvina stays at home
all day long and earns a living by doing plain sewing, and 'minding
babies' as she calls it."
"Minding babies!" exclaimed Violet, opening her eyes very wide in her
astonishment.
"Yes. She takes in the babies of women who are obliged to leave their
homes by day, and looks after them—'minds them' as she would say.
Why, there she is!"
Looking ahead Violet saw a girl apparently of about sixteen years
of age, with a baby in her arms, standing in a doorway. At the first
glance she noted the fact that the poor girl was deformed. Her face,
though quite colourless, was very beautiful, with large, limpid, blue
eyes, and regular features; it lit up with a bright, welcoming smile
as she caught sight of the approaching trio.
"Well, Malvina, how are you to-day, my dear?" Mrs. Reed asked kindly.
"Better than usual, ma'am, thank you," was the response, spoken in a
brisk tone. "I hope you and Miss Ann are well?"
"Yes, thank you." Then, as Malvina's eyes glanced with interest
at Violet, Mrs. Reed continued: "This is a friend of ours, from
London, who is going to make her home with us for the time. Are you
wise, Malvina, to stand out here without a hat?"
"I rarely catch cold, ma'am," smiled Malvina; "and the baby is well
wrapped up—this is the only one I have to mind to-day."
"Business is rather slack then?" Mrs. Reed inquired.
"Yes, ma'am. Lots of women are out of work, I'm sorry to say, and
that's hard for them and me, too. Please to come inside."
Malvina led the way into a kitchen, which appeared very dark,
at first, for the window was small and high in the wall, and
consequently gave very little light; but, when Violet could see
better, she noticed that the room was tidy and clean, the tins on the
mantelpiece shone like silver, the deal table was as white as
scrubbing could make it, and there was not a speck of dust visible
anywhere. Suspended before the window was a fern in a pot, which,
Violet subsequently learnt, Ann had brought home to Malvina from
Devonshire the preceding summer, and was now the hunchback's most
cherished possession.
"Please to sit down," said Malvina, and her visitors accordingly
did so, whilst she stood by the fireplace—in which was no fire—rocking
the baby in her arms.
"I am sorry to hear there are so many women out of work," Mrs. Reed
remarked, regretfully; "but your mother and sister are not amongst the
number?"
"No, ma'am, I'm thankful to say they are not, though their wages have
been cut; but 'half a loaf is better than no bread,' and we must be
glad of that. Things will be better as the spring comes on; folks will
find they want new clothing, and orders will come in faster then.
My mother and sister work at a factory where they make clothing,
miss," she explained to Violet, who was listening to her with
interest, "coats, and skirts, and blouses, and everything that people
buy ready-made."
"I see," said Violet. "Do your mother and sister get good wages
generally?"
"No, miss. They earn just enough, as a rule, to keep a roof over our
heads, and provide food—sometimes not much of that. 'Tis a shame they
should not be better paid, 'tis most unfair, but there's no helping
it."
"I want three dozen yards of crochet edging like the last you worked
for me, Malvina," said Mrs. Reed; "here is the money for the cotton,
and perhaps you will be able to walk as far as Laureston Square with
the work when you have finished it? If it is fine the walk will do you
good—that is, if you are pretty well; but, remember you are not to do
the return journey without a rest, you must not hurry away as you did
the last time."
"Try to come on a Saturday," said Ann, "then you will be more likely
to find me at home. My friend and I are going to school next week,
but Saturdays are always whole holidays, you know."
"You are so kind," murmured Malvina, a faint colour creeping into her
pale cheeks, "no one else is so kind except Dr. Elizabeth. I am so
very glad to get this order for crochet, because I have a good bit
of time on my hands now there are so few babies to mind."
"Have you seen Dr. Elizabeth lately?" inquired Mrs. Reed.
"About a fortnight ago, ma'am. My back had been very bad, paining me
worse than usual, and mother asked Dr. Elizabeth to give me something
to ease the pain, and she did. She came to see me and talked to me,
and I think what she said and the heartening way of her did me almost
as much good as her medicine. She's that cheerful!"
"You have no fire," observed Mrs. Reed, glancing at the cold hearth.
"No, ma'am. I shan't light it till just before mother and Lottie come
home; one doesn't miss a fire much when the sun shines. 'Twas quite
pleasant on the doorstep."
After a little further conversation the visitors rose to depart.
Malvina followed them to the street door, where they said good-bye
to her, and Violet noticed that Ann lingered a moment to slip
something into her hand, whispering, as she did so, a few words,
one of which was "coal."
"Is Barford anything like what you had pictured it, my dear?" Mrs.
Reed inquired of Violet by-and-by, as they turned their backs on the
narrow streets of the town for a wider thoroughfare.
"No," Violet replied frankly, "I did not think there were so many poor
people living here. That hunchback girl is very poor, isn't she?"
"She is, indeed; sometimes she and her mother and sister have lacked
the necessaries of life, and theirs is only one case amongst many."
Mrs. Reed looked with kindly scrutiny at Violet as she proceeded:
"There is, unfortunately, so little one can do to help people like
that, but that little one ought to do by living carefully and giving
away all one can. You know, my dear, as a rule, it is only those who
save off themselves who have anything to give; if people live up to
their incomes they cannot do much towards helping other people."
Violet looked meditative, and made no answer. At that minute they came
to a florist's shop, in the window of which were exhibited several
pots of beautiful hyacinths nearly in full bloom. Ann had declared her
intention of purchasing one of these pots on her way home; but she
would have passed by now, without even glancing at the flowers, had
not her mother said:—
"How about the hyacinths, Ann? I thought you proposed to make yourself
a present?"
"I am not going to do so, after all, mother," Ann replied calmly,
though she coloured as she walked straight on.
And then Violet realised, with swift comprehension, that Ann had given
to Malvina the money with which she had intended to purchase the
flowers, and she expected Mrs. Reed would buy the sweet-scented blooms
for her daughter. Mrs. Reed, however, did nothing of the kind, but
merely said:—
"Oh, very well, Ann."
[Illustration: "I CANNOT HELP FEELING NERVOUS ABOUT TO-MORROW."]