TROUBLE.
So father borrowed from Mr. Simmons, and paid off the bills owing, and
everything seemed straight again—only of course there was the interest
to be paid to Mr. Simmons, making our income smaller.
I did think father and mother would learn wisdom from the past, but it
was not so. Almost as soon as ever the thing was settled, father seemed
to forget his anger, and mother seemed to forget her fear, and both
went on just in the old way. I had no power, girl as I was, to check
them. How should I have had? I saw things wrong, without the means of
setting them right.
Months again went by—I do not know how many, for my memory is not quite
cleat as to dates, but I know that as spring and summer passed we were
getting afresh deeper and deeper into debt. I know that again and again
father borrowed from Mr. Simmons, always at the same heavy rate of
interest, and I know that the payment of this interest was becoming
more and more of a drag upon us. Father never seemed to have money in
hand for anything. He used to say, "Tell them to put it down to me, and
I'll set it right next week."
But the tradespeople were gradually becoming a little shy of putting
things down to father's name. I think it is likely they knew more than
we did how father was going on, and how likely it was they might never
get their money at all. Once when I wanted it done I was refused point
blank, and when I told father he was quite in a fury. He said he should
go to the shop and give them his mind; but I suppose he thought better
of this, for he did not go. I found in time that there were a good many
shops which father did not like to go near, and they were shops where
he had heavy bills unpaid.
But still he and mother never drew in. It was always, "Oh, we must have
this," "Oh, we can't do without that."
Father and Mr. Simmons were a great deal together. Father had nothing
to do, and time often hung heavily on his hands; and yet he had taken
such a hatred to work that he never would hear a word of doing any. But
of course a man cannot spend his life in doing nothing, and so it came
to pass that Mr. Simmons took to finding amusement for him. There were
not many things that father could do, but he began to be more and more
at the public-house and billiard-room.
Indeed, as months went by, we saw less and less of father. He was
always with Mr. Simmons, and seldom came home except to dine and sleep.
I think Mr. Simmons had the sort of mastery over him that a strong mind
has over a weak one. Now and then they came in together, and I used to
think of grannie's dread of Mr. Simmons, when I saw his smooth silky
manners, and the sort of way in which he managed father, and made him
do and say and even think just what he liked. But I could not venture
on a word. Mother always seemed pleased to see Mr. Simmons. She did not
in the least understand the harm he was doing.
Father had quite left off going to Church, and mother was seldom to be
seen there either. They often laughed at me for being so regular, but
I am thankful to say I never was even tempted to give it up. My chief
comfort those days was in religion. I had nothing else. It was a life
of hard slaving, with no love to cheer me in my work. Father was never
satisfied, whatever I did.
It was through Mrs. Raikes that the whisper of how things really
were first reached mother and me. She and mother were always trying
still which could outdo the other, and they were in a sort of way at
daggers drawn, if one may use the expression, though they didn't call
themselves enemies.
Mrs. Raikes came in one day to see mother, with a fine wreath of red
roses in her bonnet, which she had just bought—bigger and redder than
one which mother had bought the week before. I suppose she came to show
it off. I remember how her eyes spied all about our parlour, to see if
there was anything in it new which she had not in hers. I wonder if I
am uncharitable to write so. I know I am only saying simple truth; for
she and mother used to boast and quarrel quite openly about which could
be the smartest.
"Well," said she, "and what do you think of your husband being so
mighty thick, as he has become of late, with that fellow Simmons?"
"Oh, Mr. Simmons and he are friends," mother said, tossing her head,
"and I don't see why they shouldn't be, either. Mr. Simmons is an
uncommon pleasant-spoken gentleman, and he's uncommon fond of my
husband."
"Sooner your husband than mine," said Mrs. Raikes, and she gave a
snort. "Raikes says to me once upon a time, says he, 'I'll bring
Simmons home with me to dinner,' says he; 'I've met him, and I don't
dislike him.' 'No, thank you,' says I; 'not if I knows it, Raikes. A
mean sneaking cheat, as 'ud worm a secret out of a toad in a stone, and
flay a man alive for sixpence. Not if I knows it,' says I. 'Why dear
me, Kitty,' says he, 'whatever do you know of him?' 'Oh, you trust me,'
says I; 'I've eyes and ears, I hope; and I know how to use 'em, too. No
Simmons for me, if you please.' And Raikes he just laughed and didn't
say another word. Oh, everybody knows what Simmons is at. And if you're
not above taking a bit of friendly advice as it's meant, Mrs. Murdock,
you'll do your best to get your husband out of his clutches."
It wasn't very likely, I suppose, that mother should be grateful for
the advice, under the circumstances.
"I'm much obliged all the same," said she with another toss of her
head. "I'm very much obliged all the same. But I hope my husband is
free to choose his friends for himself, Mrs. Raikes. I'm not one of the
wives that tyrannise over their husbands, like some. I'd scorn to have
it said of Miles that he was a henpecked man. If it pleases him to make
Mr. Simmons his friend, I'm very well pleased, and that's all about it."
"Well, I hope it may be all right," Mrs. Raikes answered. "I hope there
mayn't be a deal to follow after, of a sort that won't be equally
agreeable to you, Mrs. Murdock. Mr. Simmons is smooth-spoken enough,
there's no denying; and he's clever at hiding his claws, there's no
denying either. But when it comes to him and your husband—why, dear me,
you don't suppose he'd ever have condescended to look at your husband,
if it wasn't for the five thousand pounds."
"Maybe not," mother said shortly. "It does make a difference in our
position, Mrs. Raikes, and everybody knows that."
"Oh, as for position, I'm not so sure," Mrs. Raikes said with a sniff.
"A man's born one thing or another, and I don't see as a fuller purse
alters him. But Mr. Simmons knows the worth of money, they say, and I
don't doubt he'll make a paying business out of his friendship with
your husband."
"I'm not at all afraid," says mother.
"Well, if folks won't take warning, they must be let to go on in their
own way," said Mrs. Raikes. "I'm thankful it isn't my husband as spends
his days gambling and drinking with Simmons. But if you're content, why
it's no concern of mine."
"My husband don't gamble nor drink neither—much obliged all the same,"
says mother, getting very red.
"Oh, as for that, it's known to all the world, and anybody you like to
ask'll say the same," Mrs. Raikes answered. "But I've no wish to vex
you. It isn't my business. Only Raikes, he says to me this morning,
'That fellow Simmons will fleece Murdock of every penny he has,' says
he. 'Couldn't you just give his poor wife a word of warning?' says
he. And I says to him, 'I don't know as I dare, for she'll be out on
me like a wild cat if I say a word; but maybe I'll try.' And now I've
delivered my conscience, Mrs. Murdock, and I'd best say no more; only
it's true enough all I've told you, and more's the pity."
And, when Mrs. Raikes was gone, how mother did cry! I never saw her cry
so before. She wasn't afraid of many things that would frighten another
wife; but she had a horror and dread of gambling, for she had seen the
dreadful evil of it in her girlhood with a brother of her own.