"An' how did you know that?" Maggie asked in some surprise.
"Mrs. Champney told me--and then I knew she liked him."
"Who, the Marchioness?"
"Yes; I knew by the way she wrote about him that she liked him."
"Well, now, who'd 'a' thought that! The very same B'y!" she exclaimed,
at the same time looking puzzled as if not quite grasping the situation.
"Why, I thought--I guess 't was Romanzo wrote me just about that
time--that she was in love with Mr. Champney Googe." Her voice sank to a
whisper on the last words. "Wouldn't it have been just awful if she
had!"
"She might have done a worse thing than to love him." Aileen's voice was
hard in spite of her effort to speak naturally.
Maggie broke forth in protest.
"Now, how can you say that, Aileen! What would the poor gell's life have
been worth married to a man that's in for seven years! Jim says when he
comes out he can't niver vote again for prisident, an' it's ten chanct
to wan that he'll get a job."
In her earnestness she failed to notice that Aileen's face had borrowed
its whiteness from the muslin over which she was bending.
"Aileen--"
"Yes, Maggie."
"I'm goin' to tell you something. Jim told me the other day; he wouldn't
mind my tellin' you, but he says he don't want anny wan of the fam'ly to
get wind of it."
"What is it?" Aileen looked up half fearfully.
"Gracious, you look as if you'd seen a ghost! 'T isn't annything so rale
dreadful, but it gives you a kind of onaisy feelin' round your heart."
"What is it? Tell me quick." She spoke again peremptorily in order to
cover her fear. Maggie looked at her wonderingly, and thought to herself
that Aileen had changed beyond her knowledge.
"There was a man Jim knew in the other quarries we was at, who got put
into that same prison for two years--for breakin' an' enterin'--an' Jim
see him not long ago; an' when Jim told him where he was workin' the man
said just before he was comin' out, Mr. Googe come in, an' he see him
_breakin' stones wid a prison gang_--rale toughs; think of that, an' he
a gentleman born! Jim said that was tough; he says it's back-breakin'
work; that quarryin' an' cuttin' ain't nothin' to that--ten hours a day,
too. My heart's like to break for Mrs. Googe. I think of it ivery time I
see her now; an' just look how she's workin' her fingers to the bone to
support herself widout help! Mrs. Caukins says she's got seventeen
mealers among the quarrymen now, an' there'll be more next spring. What
do you s'pose her son would say to that?"
She pressed her own boy a little more closely to her breast; the young
mother's heart was stirred within her. "Mrs. Caukins says Mrs. Champney
could help her an' save her lots, but she won't; she's no mind to."
"I don't believe Mrs. Googe would accept any help from Mrs.
Champney--and I don't blame her, either. I'd rather starve than be
beholden to her!" The blood rushed into the face bent over the muslin.
"Why don't you lave her, Aileen? I would--the stingy old screw!"
Aileen folded her work and laid it aside before she answered.
"I _am_ going soon, Maggie; I've stood it about as many years as I
can--"
"Oh, but I'm glad! It'll be like gettin' out of the jail yerself, for
all you've made believe you've lived in a palace--but ye're niver goin'
so early?" she protested earnestly.
"Yes, I must, Maggie. You are not to tell anyone what I've said about
leaving Mrs. Champney--not even Jim."
Maggie's face fell. "Dear knows, I can promise you not to tell Jim; but
it's like I'll be tellin' him in me slape. It's a trick I have, he says,
whin I'm tryin' to kape something from him."
She laughed happily, and bade Billy "shake a day-day" to the pretty
lady; which behest Billy, half turning his rosy little face from the
maternal fount, obeyed perfunctorily and then, smiling, closed his
sleepy eyes upon his mother's breast.