AN UNWELCOME VISIT
"AH mother, is it you?" The exclamation came from Fanny Brown, who had
been sent to post a letter, and saw her mother close by as she turned
away from the letter-box.
For answer, her mother kissed her and said, "You do look well, Fanny.
You have got a colour like a rose. I am glad you have got such a nice
comfortable place."
"I don't see how you can tell what sort of place I have got," said
Fanny, a peevish look coming into her face as she spoke.
"Oh, you may trust a mother's eyes for seeing proof of that," said Mrs.
Brown. And then she added quickly, "How was it you did not come home to
tea yesterday, as your mistress gave you leave to come?"
"Oh, Jack has been telling tales again, has he? What business has he to
come spying upon me as he did?"
Her mother looked at her in surprise. "Spying upon you!" she repeated.
"He came because father sent him to tell you all the news of what
has happened the last week. Who told you that your father was ill on
Saturday morning?"
Fanny tried to laugh. "Oh, it was just a guess of mine," said Fanny,
lightly. "I wanted to go out with a friend, and I knew I could get out
that way. Now, don't scold, mother. Things have altered since you were
at service, years ago."
"They have indeed," answered Mrs. Brown, in a grave tone; but she would
not say any more just then, for she wanted to gain her daughter's
confidence, and this was a bad beginning.
"Are you going back with me, mother?" asked Fanny, after a pause, as
her mother walked beside her.
"I should like to come and sit down in the kitchen for a rest, after my
long walk. You might ask your mistress if she has any objection."
They had reached the side entrance, and Fanny took a key from her
pocket to let herself in.
"Come in, mother. Mrs. Lloyd won't mind, I am sure," she said.
"I would rather you went and told her I had come, Fanny," said Mrs.
Brown, hesitating at the open door.
"Oh, well, come inside while I go and tell her," said the girl, sharply.
She was back again in a minute or two. "I am to make you a cup of tea
after your long walk," she said, "and you can tell me all the news
while I am getting it." And Fanny stirred the fire under the kettle and
reached down a cup and saucer in a great bustle. "How is father?" she
asked carelessly.
"Better now. But he had a bad fall on Saturday night, and was ill all
day yesterday."
"Oh La! How did he fall?" exclaimed Fanny, pausing in her bustle of
preparation. "I didn't think my words were coming true like that," she
added, with a little more concern.
Her mother told her that the fall took place in the town when they were
out marketing; but she did not enter into particulars, assuring her
that the danger was all over now.
"I have some good news for you too," she added quickly.
"Oh, that's about Eliza, of course; she is the favourite now."
"Don't be foolish, Fanny. I never made a favourite of one more than
another; and I am sure you will be pleased to hear the letter Mrs.
Parsons has sent me about Eliza."
And she drew the precious letter from her pocket and began to read it.
To her at least it was intensely interesting. But Fanny did not see
anything to make a fuss about, and she said so, while her mother sat
sipping her tea and wondering what could have happened to Fanny that
she cared so little for her sister or any of them at home now, and she
wondered what she had better do about telling her of the death of Mrs.
Collins and the trouble they were all in through it.
But necessity compelled her to do this, for now that she had lent all
her housekeeping money to pay Collins's club, it had left her almost
without a penny, and so the sad tale had to be told.
"La, mother, do you mean to say you have been running after that Jessie
Collins like that? Why, you didn't like me to speak to her when I was
at home," retorted Fanny.
"No, I didn't; but I did not know her as well as I do now, and when you
were at home, she did little else than run the street, which is no good
to any girl. But I have had to do more than go in and out to help them,
Fanny, I have had to lend them all my week's housekeeping money to pay
up the club that Collins might get the allowance to pay for his wife's
funeral. If it had not been paid this morning, the whole six pounds
would have been lost."
"And serve him right," said Fanny, coldly. "He kept away from the drink
for years and years. What made him take to it just lately? I have seen
him hardly able to walk," concluded the girl.
"So have other people; but the poor man is in a great deal of trouble
now, and who knows but he may give up the drink after this. At any
rate, I could not see them in such trouble and not lift a finger to
help them, so I have lent them all the money I had got, and have come
to ask you to lend me a few shillings till the end of the week, just to
piece out with what I can get on credit," added her mother
"I want a few shillings for myself," said Fanny, in an angry tone. "You
seem to think, mother, that I ought to give you every farthing of my
wages. I want a new pair of boots and a new frock, and I can't have
them because I have not got money enough, and now you come and ask me—"
"I only want you to lend me what you have saved towards buying the new
frock," interrupted her mother. "I do not ask you to give me a farthing
of your wages. Thank God, your father is in good work, and whatever you
can lend me, Jack shall bring back next Saturday as soon as your father
gets home from work."
"Well, I can't do it, mother, for I haven't got it," answered Fanny, in
a dogged tone. "Mrs. Lloyd pays such poor wages that I don't think I
shall stop much longer."
"Fanny, you would never be so foolish as to leave a comfortable place
like this," exclaimed Mrs. Brown, looking round the cosy kitchen, which
she had already calculated in her own mind required so little hard work
to keep neat and nice. "Why, this is as nice as any parlour," she said,
uttering her thoughts aloud.
"Oh, it's all very well," said Fanny, with a toss of the head; "but a
comfortable kitchen isn't everything, and I have heard that I can get
higher wages than Mrs. Lloyd pays."
"Money is not everything, my girl. A considerate mistress, who tries
to make things comfortable for her servant, and where a growing girl
like you has as much to eat as she wants, may not be so easily found as
you seem to suppose. Higher wages will mean harder, rougher work, very
likely. Here you have just enough to keep you comfortably employed, and
you have a mistress who does not mind teaching you how to do your work
thoroughly."
"Oh, I have learned nearly all she can teach me now," said Fanny, with
a smile, and a complacent look round her neat little kitchen.
Her mother sighed. "Well, as she has been at the trouble to teach you
a good many things you could never learn at home, don't you think it
would be very ungrateful to leave her so soon after you have been able
to master the work and do it properly?"
"Ungrateful!" repeated Fanny. "Don't I work for every penny I get?"
"Yes, I dare say you do. Nobody keeps servants to look at, of course;
but when an untrained girl, like you were, comes into a house like
this, a mistress has to be at a good deal of trouble before she is of
very much use. I know what it is when I have to begin teaching what I
do at home. Why, it is easier to wash up tea-things than to teach a
girl to do it properly, and it is the same with other things."
"Oh, well, I believe Mrs. Lloyd likes to teach girls, and to worry
them too," retorted Fanny. "Of course, Eliza never gave anybody any
trouble," she added, with something like a sneer.
"We were not talking about Eliza," said her mother, calmly. "When she
goes into the Vicarage nursery, I dare say she will have to learn a
good many things, and I only hope, if Nurse has this trouble with her,
she will stay and repay her with the work she has to do."
"What wages is she to have when she is a proper nursemaid?" asked
Fanny, eagerly.
"That is not mentioned in the letter," answered her mother. "I dare say
Mrs. Parsons thought that it would be sufficient to let me know that
she was willing to take her. They will pay enough to keep her neat and
tidy, and that is all a girl should expect while she is learning the
duties of her place."
"Oh, they are old-fashioned ideas! People don't think like that now;
and I tell you, Mrs. Lloyd does not pay enough, and I dare say I shall
tell her so very soon."
"I hope you will not do anything so foolish, Fanny. Your wages ought to
be sufficient for all you want at present. It puzzles me what you can
do with so much money," added Mrs. Brown, rising from her seat as she
spoke. "Would your mistress like to speak to me," she added suddenly,
as though the thought had just occurred to her.
"I know she is very busy and cannot spare the time," said Fanny,
quickly. She did not ask her mother to sit and rest a little longer,
and Mrs. Brown felt that, for some reason she could not understand,
Fanny was glad to get rid of her. She noticed, too, that the girl
opened the street door which was close to the kitchen, most carefully
and cautiously; for the truth was Fanny did not want her mistress to
see her mother, and had not let her know that she was in the house for
fear she should say she would come down and speak to her.
Mrs. Brown went away feeling depressed and disappointed. She had been
careful not to say a word that was harsh or fault-finding, and yet
Fanny had shown so little pleasure at her visit that her mother felt
sure she was glad to have her go, instead of pressing her to stay as
long as she could; and the poor woman sighed as she thought of the
change that had taken place in Fanny since she had left home.
She knew that she was always a little selfish, a little wilful; but
with Jack and the others to be considered as well as herself, these
faults were kept in check a good deal. But, in spite of this, it must
have been that Fanny herself never really tried to overcome these
faults, or there would not have been such a change in her as her mother
now deplored. The thought of this made her grave and anxious as she
walked homeward, for she felt helpless now to combat this, and yet she
felt sure it would bring trouble to her child if she did not overcome
it.
Then she was disappointed, too, that Fanny could not lend her a
shilling or two for the week's provisions; there were some things she
could not get on credit, and she hardly knew how she was to manage now
that she had parted with all her ready money.
In her thoughts of this and Fanny's unkindness, she quite forgot that
she had told Minnie and Selina that they might come and meet her when
they came out of school, until she saw them running towards her, each
trying to reach her first.
"Oh, mother, you have come a long way without us!" said Selina,
reproachfully. "You said we might walk as far as the corner of Green
Lane, and we have not got nearly so far. It isn't fair," said the
little girl, in a complaining tone.
"Didn't you stay long with Fanny?" asked the more thoughtful Minnie.
"Not very long, dear. You see, Fanny's time is not her own now; she
is in service," said Mrs. Brown, by way of warding off any further
questions on this subject.
Then Selina suddenly remembered that she had been told to ask her
mother to go and see her governess that evening.
"There, I had nearly forgotten all about it!" exclaimed the little
girl. "May we go with you to teacher's house?" she asked.
"No, dear. If Miss Martin had wanted to say anything to you she would
have told you in school," replied Mrs. Brown. "Minnie shall take the
key, and go and get the tea ready by the time I come back. I had a cup
of tea at Fanny's; but I dare say I shall be ready for some more when I
get home. Now, my nearest way to Miss Martin's will be to turn up the
next road, but you two had better go straight home now."
"It is a shame to have such a little bit of walk with you, mother,"
grumbled Selina. "You must have stopped a tiny while with Fanny. I'll
ask her when she comes home why she didn't keep you a long long time."
"We shouldn't have liked that," said Minnie, clasping her mother's hand
tighter as she spoke. "I think it was kind of Fanny not to keep mother
away from us, for fear we should be waiting for her."
Mrs. Brown let them talk on until they reached the corner where their
roads parted, and then she bade the two girls go home quickly, while
she walked onwards to see their teacher. She felt in her pocket to make
sure that she had got her precious letter from the seaside, for she had
no doubt that Selina had been chattering at school about this, and Miss
Martin wanted to see it for herself, and hear exactly what had been
said. But to her surprise, Miss Martin said no word about the letter
that was so important to Mrs. Brown.
"I want to have a few words with you about poor Jessie Collins," she
said, as soon as her visitor was seated. "I have heard from Polly what
a good friend you have been to them ever since her mother was taken
ill, and I want to know whether we can help the poor girls in any way.
You see, they are rather difficult people to deal with, and the Vicar
being away from home makes matters rather worse, for Collins being such
a strange, independent sort of man, Mr. Nye, our curate, might give
offence if he called upon him just now."
"He might; there is no telling," said Mrs. Brown. "But the poor girls
are in need of any help that a friend can give them."
"Yes, I thought that would be the case, and I think Jessie Collins is
not so hopelessly naughty as people have thought her," said Miss Martin.
"Naughty!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown. "People have made a great mistake
about Jessie Collins. Of course she was rude and rough from being
allowed to run the streets as she has; but underneath this she is a
kind-hearted, unselfish girl, and as willing to learn anything I could
teach her that would help her mother as my own girls would have been,"
said Mrs. Brown, warmly.
"I am very glad to hear this," said Miss Martin, "I always liked
Jessie, although she was far from being a pattern girl. Still, she was
always ready to help anybody in trouble, whether it was a friend of
hers or not, and I wondered whether there was anything I could do for
them. I have a left-off black dress I could give her, if you think they
will not be offended."
"Oh no; I am sure Jessie will be pleased to receive it from you, she
has told me about the last talk you had with her, and that you expected
her to be a credit to the school, which she is now, I can assure you,
for her loving, self-denying care of her mother would be an honour and
credit to any girl, though the world may never hear of it. Her father
is learning to know her value too, and I hope she may help him to
overcome the love of the drink that has taken hold of him lately."
"Yes, I have heard he has been very unsteady," said the teacher, "and
this, of course, has made things worse for them at home."
"Yes, it has, and Collins was always such a steady man that people are
the more surprised," said Mrs. Brown. "For years and years the poor man
has had a miserable home, but he has made the best of it, and never
grumbled to the neighbours, though everybody has known for the last
year that Mrs. Collins drank more than was good for her, and either
could not or would not try to make home comfortable for her husband and
children. Things have been going from bad to worse lately, for he lost
heart, and took to drink, too, and since her mother's illness the whole
burden of keeping the home together has fallen upon Jessie, and every
penny Collins can get from his club will be swallowed up in funeral
expenses and paying some of the rent that is owing. I said at first
the girls might be able to have a new black frock each, but I learned
afterwards that it would have to go to the landlord; and so you may be
sure how grateful Jessie will be when she hears of your gift."
"Ay, and what of yours?" suddenly asked Miss Martin. "Polly told me
this morning that you had given them all the money you had."
"Not given," interposed Mrs. Brown, "only lent until the club money is
paid."
"And this must be at a good deal of inconvenience to yourself," said
the teacher, quickly, "and so I want you to let me share in this loan.
You lent them a pound, let me lend you ten shillings until Collins can
repay you."
Mrs. Brown coloured, but a smile of relief slowly beamed in her face,
as she said slowly—
"Oh, ma'am, it's just as though God knew what I wanted, and told you,
too. I shall be so grateful if you would lend me ten shillings until
Collins gets his money, or until my husband comes home on Saturday."
"Certainly, you shall have it," said Miss Martin. And as she spoke she
placed half a sovereign in Mrs. Brown's hand, who was truly thankful
for this timely help.
Then she told the teacher of the letter received from Mrs. Parsons
concerning Eliza, and the two could rejoice together that the girl was
likely to do so well.
Before she went, Miss Martin gave her the black dress for Jessie, and
promised to try and get some further help for the girls from a friend,
and with this hope to give Jessie Mrs. Brown hurried homewards.