"You see, ma'am," said Tim Ruggles, looking very mysterious, "that
little one's name was Prosperine or Propserpine, I'm not sure which,
unless I look at where we've got it written down. I'm not sure it ain't
Proserpine; but at all events it's a long awkward name, and we took to
calling her Pine. I married the present Mrs Ruggles to take her in
charge and mind her. And she does take care of her, and brings her up
in the way she should go. You should hear her say her Catechism," said
Tim, looking proudly at Mrs Jared.
"I'd rather hear her say she loved your wife, Mr Ruggles," said Mrs
Jared, quietly.
Tim was disconcerted, but not beaten.
"But she does, ma'am, and me too, wonderful, for Mrs Ruggles is only
just a little too strict, and I don't like to interfere; for you know,
ma'am, that's a child of mystery--that is, like Fatherless Fanny, as
maybe you've read of; and no doubt she'll come to be in a big spear of
life. She--that's Mrs Ruggles, you know, ma'am--says that we'll do
what's right by the child, ma'am, and what can I say against that, when
Mrs Ruggles is such a clever woman?"
"I don't quite like such cleverness," said Mrs Jared.
"You see I want to do what is right, ma'am," said Tim, "and somehow
that's rather hard sometimes. But I was going to tell you, ma'am, we
used to live in South Molton Street, and though I've no children of my
own now, ma'am, when my poor first wife was alive there used to be one
regularly every year, and the wife that proud of it, she didn't know
what to do for a few months; and then a time would come when we'd stand
side by side looking at the little weeny, waxy features, lying in the
bit of a coffin, and the wife fit to break her heart because they were
all taken away again so soon. Not one lived, ma'am; and though we were
poor, and at times very much pushed for a job and a little money, that
used to be our greatest trouble, and I've seen my poor wife look that
hungry and envious of a lodger on the first floor--quite a lady she
was--who lived alone there with her baby, that nothing could be like it.
"But she was a good woman, God bless her!" said Tim, in a low voice, and
as he spoke he put his hand to his bald head, as if raising his hat;
"and sometimes I think, ma'am, that there aren't such a wonderful number
of good women in this world. I never knew what money we had, and what
money we hadn't, but used to put it in her hands as I brought it home
from the shop, and I always knew that she'd make it go as far as money
would go, and I didn't want no more. Nothing like letting your wife
keep the purse, sir," he said, turning to Jared--"always makes her feel
proud of the confidence.
"But it came to pass at one time, ma'am, that we were so put to it, that
I couldn't put a bit of confidence in Mrs Ruggles, ma'am--my first--for
times were that hard with strikes that there was not a stroke of work to
be got for anybody. We tried all we knew, and I scraped and pledged and
sold, till it seemed that the next thing to do would be to go into the
workhouse, when one day came a knock at our back-room door, and we both
started, feeling sure that it was the landlord to tell us we must go,
for we were behindhand with the rent. But no; who should come in but
the first floor lodger, with her little one; and to make a long story
short, what she wanted was for my lass to take care of her, because she
was going abroad with her husband, and my wife was to be paid for doing
it.
"And do you think she would? Why, she snatched hungrily at the little
thing; and poor as we were, would have been glad to do it for nothing.
Perhaps I had my objections, and perhaps I hadn't, ma'am; but we were
almost starving, and when five pounds were put on the table for the
present, and an address written down where we were to go when that money
was done, why, one could only look upon it as a Godsend, and promise all
the poor lady wished.
"Then came the cruel time, ma'am, when the poor woman had to leave it,
and I was glad to go out of the room, so as not to see her sobbing and
breaking her heart, and snatching the poor little baby to her breast,
and running to the door with it, and then coming back and giving it up
to my wife, kissing her, and kneeling down to her, and begging of her to
love it, when my poor lass was worshipping it as hard as ever she could.
"I stopped out of the room till she was gone, poor lady, and then I came
back, pretending to look jolly; but I only made a fool of myself, ma'am,
when I saw the wife crying softly over the little thing in her lap, for
I knew what it all meant. Oh, so much, ma'am, for they were the tender
motherly tears of a woman who had never been able to pour out all the
love of her heart upon one of her own little ones. And as I stood
there, I seemed not to like to speak, as I saw her lips quivering and
face working. But, in spite of all her sad looks, there was one of
pleasure in her face; for there was the little thing looking up and
crowing and laughing as if it knew that it was in good hands; and while
my poor wife stayed on this earth, ma'am, no little one could have been
more tenderly treated.
"But there came a time when I was anxious and worried, same as I had
been often before; and then I couldn't believe it at all, and wouldn't
have it that it was true; for it all seemed like a dream, till I found
myself sitting with little Pine in my arms, keeping her with me because
she was something poor Lucy loved; and then it seemed to come home to me
that it was my poor wife's cold, smooth forehead that I had kissed, as
she lay still and sleeping with another little waxen image upon her
breast; but it was all true, ma'am, and I was alone--all alone."
Poor Tim Ruggles made no secret of the fact that he was crying, as he
laid down his pipe, and pulled out his thin red cotton handkerchief to
wipe his eyes; and, for some reason or other, Patty's face was very
close to her work, and Mrs Jared had altered her position.
"Time went on," said Tim, continuing his narrative, "till one day I was
sitting, nursing the little thing, as took to me wonderful, when there
came a sharp knock at the door, and in came the child's mother to snatch
it out of my arms, and kiss and fondle it as only mothers can. She
seemed as if she couldn't speak, but held out one hand to me, and
pressed mine and tried to smile; but only gave me such a pitiful
woe-begone look that it was quite sad to see.
"Then there were steps on the stairs once more, and the next moment
there was a tall hard-looking woman, and a stout man in black like a
doctor, both in the room.
"`Ellen,' said the tall woman, in a sharp, cross way; but the stout man
was all fidgety, and nervous like, and did not seem to know what to do;
but he says, `Hush! hush! don't let us have any scene here.'
"`Let her come quietly with us, then,' says the woman; but the poor
thing only held little crying Pine to her breast, seeming in sore
trouble that the child should not know her, but struggle and try to get
away. Then she gave me the child, and the man says, `Take her away.
Stop that crying child.'
"But I had no occasion to do anything, for she stopped crying directly I
took her, and besides I wanted to see the end of this strange scene, and
it seemed as if the little one's mother gave herself up like a prisoner
to the tall woman, who took tightly hold of her arm, and then they
hurried out of the room, the stout man all in a perspiration and looking
scared, and as if afraid I was going to interfere, and I would, too,
only Pine's mother went so quietly, just smiling, and kissing her hand
to me and the little one as she left the room, and then I heard their
steps on the stairs.
"I did not see any more, but one of the lodgers told me afterwards how
they all went off together in a cab that was waiting at the door. And I
never knew any more, only what I told you was the child's name, and that
the money's paid regular by a lawyer for her keep; and nobody never asks
any questions, nor wants to know anything about her; and though I once
tried, I couldn't find anything out, and excepting that I've ten
shillings a week with her, she might be my own little girl.
"And what could I do without some one to help me, ma'am?" continued Tim
to Mrs Jared. "I went four years with women to do for me, and
housekeepers, and the last one I had was the present Mrs Ruggles, ma'am,
who took so kindly to the child, that I thought it would be all for the
best; and we moved to Carnaby Street, ma'am, and it took a deal of
doing, but I married her. My sister's husband says she married me:
perhaps she did, ma'am. I don't know; but it all seems to come to the
same thing."
"And did you never see anything more of the little thing's relations?"
asked Mrs Jared.
"No, ma'am," said Tim, "never--never. Of course I felt a bit curious
after that strange visit; but I was too full of my own troubles to do
anything then; and when, some time afterwards, I said something to one
of the lawyer's clerks, he asked me if I was tired of my job, because
plenty more would be glad of it.
"That sent me out of the office like a shot, ma'am. It didn't matter to
me that I heard the clerk laughing, for I'd sooner have given them ten
shillings a week to let me keep her than have given her up. And I don't
love her any the less now, ma'am; but I do sometimes wish she was away."
"The old story," said Jared; "they evidently don't want the little
thing, and pay to keep it out of sight."
"Something more than the old story, sir, I think," said Tim, humbly, as
he tapped his forehead. "There's something wrong about the poor mother,
depend upon it, as well as the child."
"So I think, Mr Ruggles," said Mrs Jared, "and though perhaps I have no
business to interfere, I cannot help saying again, that I don't at all
like the way in which it is treated, poor child,--I don't think you
ought to stand by and let it be beaten."
"Well, I don't know, ma'am, I don't know," said Tim, humbly. "I'm
afraid to interfere, to tell you the truth; for I'm out a deal, and if I
were to say much, I should only make Mrs Ruggles the little thing's
enemy. Really, ma'am, I try to do what's for the best; and I don't
think if I tried ever so, I should make any better of it. As I said, I
almost wish sometimes that she was gone, but it always nips me
afterwards; for somehow, ma'am, that child seems to be all I have to
love now, and you know how children will wind themselves round you, and
make a home in your heart. I hope none of yours, ma'am, may know what
it is to have a step--that is," said Tim, stammering, "ever be--er--
ever--ever--suffer, you know, ma'am."
Tim Ruggles hid his confusion in his red handkerchief, as soon as he
could prevail upon it to quit the depths of his pocket; after which he
found out that it was quite time for him to take his departure, and
hurried away.
"I can't help taking an interest in the poor little thing," said Mrs
Jared, when they were alone; "but it seems a strange story."
"Very," said Jared Pellet.
Volume 1, Chapter XIII.