HALF MEASURES.
AS soon as Mrs. Rodney was buried, Bessie entered upon her charge of
Rodney and Nelly. She was little more than a child herself in years,
but her life in the streets had given her a keen, shrewd knowledge
of human nature. She set about at once to make Rodney's home more
attractive than it had been during his wife's illness. And every
evening, as soon as her own necessary livelihood was earned, she
hastened to spend all the time she could with him and Nelly. She could
sing and talk well; and Rodney, whose good resolutions were deeper than
usual, was often induced to stay at home, or pay only a brief visit to
some public-house, for the sake of society, accompanied by both Bessie
and Nelly, who waited for him outside the door, now and then sending in
a message, till he was ashamed of keeping them longer.
There was a little change for the better. Nelly's rags were covered by
a gay pink cotton frock, trimmed with a number of small flounces, which
Bessie picked up cheap at a clothes-shop, and which she washed until
the colour was faded. Rodney often promised to buy his little daughter
the other clothes she so greatly needed; but work was slack, very slack
for unsteady hands like him; and he could earn but little, more than
half of which still went for drink. But he had no violent outbreak, and
often when he was tempted to greater excesses, there rose before his
mind the image of his dead wife, with the violets in her folded hands.
This memory, with Bessie's influence and Nelly's love, had a salutary
effect upon him in part; and in his heart, he had determined to be
altogether a changed and reformed man some day.
By degrees Rodney recovered confidence in himself and his own power
of moderation. Three months had passed since his wife's death, and he
had never been so drunk as to be incapable. Bessie, with the sanguine
delight of a girl, believed in his reformation, and rejoiced in it
openly; while Nelly praised and fondled him every day. The slavery of
the habit seemed over; he was master of it, or at least he was no more
than a hired servant, who could cast off the yoke at any moment, and be
altogether free. He drank still, drank deeply; but he could come out
of the gin-palace with money in his pocket; a feat impossible a few
months ago. The abject drunkards, who could not tear themselves away
from the neighbourhood of the spirit-vaults, became objects of contempt
and disgust to him. He was pursuing the rational and manly course of
breaking off the habit by slow but sure degrees.
Yet there was not after all much to be proud of. The poor place at home
was still bare and comfortless, in spite of Bessie's efforts; Nelly was
pining for better food, and he himself was shabby and out-at-elbow.
No person passing him in the street would have distinguished him from
the drunken objects he despised. He was feeble and tremulous still;
his eyes were red and dim, and his head was hot. The only point gained
was that the vice, which still had possession of him, held him with a
somewhat slighter grasp.
But when the next autumn came, and heavy fogs from the river filled the
town, Bessie caught cold after cold till her spirits failed her, and
she could do little more than call in at Rodney's house upon her way
home to her lodgings, where she longed to lie down to rest. There was
nobody to wile away the listless time at home, and if he stayed longer
than usual at the beer-shop or gin-palace, there was no one waiting for
him outside, for he took care to lock Nelly up safely before he left
her. By little and little the old slavery established itself again in
all its tyranny. He had built his house upon the sand, and the storm
came and beat upon it, and it fell; and great was the fall thereof.
Night after night Rodney came home late, raving more furiously than
ever, while Nelly crouched in the darkest corner of the little room
in an agony of terror, not daring to stir lest she should draw his
attention to her. Sometimes, as she grew better, Bessie would make
her way through the chilly evenings to the house to exert her old
influence, but she found that it was all gone before this new outbreak.
Once he struck her brutally, and thrust her out into the rain, bidding
her begone, and come back no more; but the faithful girl would not
forsake him and little Nelly. She was hoping against hope.
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