HIGHLY RESPECTABLE.
As old Oliver was stooping over his desk on the counter, and bringing
his dim eyes as close as he could to the letter he was writing, his
shop-door was darkened by the unexpected entrance of his sister
Charlotte herself. She was dressed with her usual extreme neatness,
bordering upon gentility, and she carried upon her arm a small fancy
reticule, which contained some fresh eggs, and a few russet apples,
brought up expressly from the country. Oliver welcomed her with more
than ordinary pleasure, and led her at once into his room behind.
Charlotte's quick eyes detected in an instant the traces of a child's
dwelling there; and before Oliver could utter a word, she picked up a
little frock, and was holding it out at arm's length, with an air of
utter surprise and misgiving.
"Brother James!" she exclaimed, and her questioning voice, with its
tone of amazement, rang very clearly into his ears.
"It's my little Dolly's," he answered, in haste; "poor Susan's little
girl, who's gone out with her husband, young Raleigh, to India,
because he's 'listed, and left her little girl with me, her
grandfather. She came on the very last day you were here."
"Well, to be sure!" cried his sister, sinking down on a chair, but
still keeping the torn little frock in her hand.
"I've had two letters from poor Susan," he continued, in a tremulous
voice, "and I'll read them to you. The child's such a precious
treasure to me, Charlotte--such a little love, a hundred times better
than any gold; and now you're come to mend up her clothes a bit, and
see what she wants for me, there's nothing else that I desire. I was
writing about her to you when you came in."
"I thought you'd gone and picked up a lost child out of the streets,"
said Charlotte, with a sigh of relief.
"No, no; she's my own," he answered. "You hearken while I read poor
Susan's letters, and then you'll understand all about it. I couldn't
give her up for a hundred gold guineas--not for a deal more than
that."
He knew Susan's letters off by heart, and did not need his
spectacles, nor a good light to read them by. Charlotte listened
with emphatic nods, and many exclamations of astonishment.
"That's very pretty of Susan," she remarked, "saying as Aunt
Charlotte 'll do her sewing, and see to her manners. Ay, that I
will! for who should know manners better than me, who used to work
for the Staniers, and dine at the housekeeper's table, with the
butler and all the head servants? to be sure I'll take care that she
does not grow up ungenteel. Where is the dear child, brother James?"
"She's gone out for a walk this fine morning," he answered.
"Not alone?" cried Charlotte. "Who's gone out with her? A child
under five years old could never go out all alone in London: at least
I should think not. She might get run over and killed a score of
times."
"Oh! there's a person with her I've every confidence in," replied
Oliver.
"What sort of person; man or woman; male or female?" inquired
Charlotte.
"A boy," he answered, in some confusion.
"A boy!" repeated his sister, as if he had said a monster. "What
boy?"
"His name's Tony," he replied.
"But where does he come from? Is he respectable?" she pursued,
fixing him with her glittering eyes in a manner which did not tend to
restore his composure.
"I don't know, sister," he said in a feeble tone.
"Don't know, brother James!" she exclaimed. "Don't you know where he
lives?"
"He lives here," stammered old Oliver; "at least he sleeps here under
the counter; but he finds his own food about the streets."
Charlotte's consternation was past all powers of speech. Here was
her brother, a respectable man, who had seen better days, and whose
sister had been a dressmaker in good families, harbouring in his own
house a common boy off the streets, who, no doubt, was a thief and
pickpocket, with all sorts of low ways and bad language. At the same
time there was poor Susan's little girl dwelling under the same roof;
the child whose pretty manners she was to attend to, living in
constant companionship with a vulgar and vicious boy! What she might
have said upon recovering her speech, neither she nor Oliver ever
knew; for at this crisis Tony himself appeared, carrying Dolly and
his new broom in his arms, and looking very haggard and tattered
himself, his bare feet black with mud, and his bare head in a
hopeless condition of confusion, and tangle.
"We've bought a geat big boom, ganpa," shouted Dolly, as she came
through the shop, and before she perceived the presence of a
stranger; "and Tony and Dolly made a great big crossing, and dot ever
so much money----"
She was suddenly silent as soon as her eye fell upon the stranger;
but Aunt Charlotte had heard enough. She rose with great dignity
from her chair, and was about to address herself vehemently to Tony,
when old Oliver interrupted her.
[Illustration: Charlotte speaking to Tony and Dolly]
"Charlotte," he said, "the boy's a good boy, and he's a help to me.
I couldn't send him away. He's one of the Lord's poor little ones as
are scattered up and down in this great city, without father or
mother, and I must do all I can for him. It isn't much; it's only a
bed under the counter, and a crust now and then, and he more than
pays for it. You musn't come betwixt me and Tony."
Old Oliver spoke so emphatically, that his sister was impressed and
silenced for a minute. She took the little girl away from Tony, and
glared at him with a sternness which made him feel very
uncomfortable; but her eye softened a little, and her face grew less
harsh.
"You can't read or write?" she said, in a sharp voice.
"No," he answered.
"And you've not got any manners, or boots, or a cap on your head.
You are ragged and ignorant, and not fit to live with this little
girl," she continued, with energy. "If this little girl's mother saw
her going about with a boy in bare feet and a bare head, it 'ud break
her heart I know. So if you wish to stay here with my brother, Mr.
Oliver, and this little girl, Miss Dorothy Raleigh, as I suppose her
name is, you must get all these things. You must begin to learn to
read and write, and talk properly. I shall come here again in a
month's time--I shall come every month now--and if you haven't got
some shoes for your feet, and a cap for your head, before I see you
again, I shall just take the little girl away down into the country,
where I live, and you'll never see her again. Do you understand?"
"Yes," answered Tony, nodding his head.
"Then you may take yourself away now," said the sharp old woman, "I
don't want to be too hard upon you; but I've got this little girl to
look after for her mother, and you must do as I say, or I shall carry
her right off to be out of your way. Take your broom and go; and
never you think of such a thing as taking this little girl to sweep a
crossing again. I never heard of such a thing. There, go!"
Tony slunk away sadly, with a sudden downheartedness. He returned so
joyous and triumphant, in spite of his weariness, that this
unexpected and unpleasant greeting had been a very severe shock to
him. With his broom over his shoulder, and with his listless,
slouching steps, he sauntered slowly back to his crossing; but he had
no heart for it now.