r of California iern Regional ary Facility ix Libris . OGDEN H- THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES MICHAEL ARMSTRONG, THE FACTORY BOY. FRANCES TROLLOP E, AUTHOKKSS OF JESSIE PHILLIPS," " THE BARNABYS IN AMERICA/ &v. WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS. LONDON: HENRY COL/BURN, PUBLISHER, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1844. Stack Annex PREFACE. WHEN the author of "Michael Armstrong" first determined on attempting to draw the attention of her countrymen to the fearful evils inherent in the Factory System, as carried out in our manufac- turing towns, she intended to divide her work into two portions, which should present the same subject under two different phases. It was her intention in the first of these to drag into the light of day, and place before the eyes of Englishmen, the hideous mass of injustice and suffering to which thousands of infant labourers are subjected, who toil in our monster spinning-mills. In the second, she proposed that the hero of her tale, having lived through his toil-worn boyhood, should have been seen embarked in those perfectly constitutional struggles for the amelioration of the sufferings of his class, in which many of the more enlightened operatives have been for some years engaged. The first division of the subject has been some time in the reader's hands. The true but most painful picture has been drawn faithfully and conscientiously. Of course voices have been raised to deny loudly the truth of all the author's statements, and to assert the whole to be a mere tissue of invention and falsehood. The same charges have been made against her upon another occasion, and she has lived to see the truth of her statements, so impugned, universally admitted. She awaits with perfect confidence the time when similar justice shall be rendered to these pages. But with respect to that division of the subject which it was in- tended to bring forward in the latter part of her work, the author's views have undergone very considerable change. Knowing the immense amount of evil to be remedied, and the urgent necessity, for many reasons, that this remedy should not be delayed, it is grievous to see IV PREFACE. misguided and unfortunate men pursuing a course which must neces- sarily neutralize the efforts of their true friends. When those in whose behalf she hoped to move the sympathy of their country are found busy in scenes of outrage and lawless violence, and uniting themselves with individuals whose doctrines are subversive of every species of social order, the author feels that it would be alike acting in violation of her own principles, and doing injury to the cause she wishes to serve, were she to persist in an attempt to hold up as objects of public sympathy, men who have stained their righteous cause with deeds of violence and blood. The author is well aware that many, as well operatives as their superiors, who were engaged in a virtuous struggle against the lawless power which oppresses them, deplore the madness of these ill-advised men as much as herself. But the cause has been too much sullied, and the sufferers too closely associated in the public eye with those who have been guilty of all she most deprecates, to permit her continuing the work as she intended. Under these circumstances she has determined that the existence of her hero as an operative shall close with his childhood. No miscon- struction of principles, no misconception of motives can exist with regard to an attempt to ameliorate the lot of infant labourers. That her pages may assist in promoting this object is her humble and most ardent hope. " The Life and Adventures of Michael Armstrong" are, therefore, concluded in the twelfth number. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE Description of Dowling Lodge and its appurtenances Of its master Of its mistress And all the Masters and Misses Dowling A large dinner-party A hot drawing-room, and the way to escape from it ... I CHAPTER II. A delightful ramble Friendship and the Muse An adventure Danger and escape Gratitude and benevolence 9 CHAPTER III. Introduction of Michael Armstrong into the family of Sir Matthew Dowling Conjectures concerning his parentage A confabulation between Sir Matthew and Mr. Joseph Parsons 24 CHAPTER IV. A little cottage gossip Avisit of charity Practical benevolence 35 CHAPTER V. A separation of loving hearts A specimen of finished composition Condescension and generosity Sir Matthew clothes little Michael with his own hands 44 CHAPTER VI. Michael's introduction to all the Miss Dowlings Sir Matthew feeds him with his own hand, and presents him to all his most valued friends 52 CHAPTER VII. A popular character More benevolence Interesting intelligence re- ceived with becoming animation A select committee A farewell full of meaning , ,,,,,...., ,,....<., 67 VI CONTEXTS. CHAPTER VIII. PAGE A very innocent tete-a-tete, but in which Miss Martha Bowling comes to a wrong conclusion An unfortunate embassy An agreeable ex- cursion A philosophical disquisition A visit to the factory 72 CHAPTER IX. Some particulars respecting Miss Brotherton A demonstration of neighbourly friendship and anxiety The wilfulness of an heiress A gleam of light caught in the darkness 84 CHAPTER X. More wilfulness on the part of the heiress Private theatricals Failure of a young performer, and its consequences Philosophical breakfast- table A morning's excursion 9j CHAPTER XL Miss Brotherton pushes her inquiries further A well-arranged scheme disagreeably defeated A visit, and its consequences 112 CHAPTER XII. An unfortunate rencounter An adventure Miss Brotherton grows wiser every day 1 '23 CHAPTER XIII. Disagreeable meditations A confidential interview with a faithful ser- vant Another interview, not quite so confidential, with a daughter Martha and Michael take a pleasant walk together to visit the widow Armstrong A consultation 137 CHAPTER XIV. Mary Brotherton continues sick in heart and mind But is roused and cheered by her own steadfast will An o'er true tale 14S CHAPTER XV. A teic-a-tete walk Lively if not instructive conversation The rich visiting the poor Misplaced confidence Innocent sin 158 CHAPTER XVI. Miss Brotherton visits the widow Armstrong, and lays the foundation of a very lasting friendship She then calls at Dowling Lodge, but fails of obtaining what she went for ,,,, ,.,,,,,,.,,,,........ 163 CONTENTS. Vll CHAPTER XVII. PAGE A journey begun in very good style, but ending not quite so well A faithful description of a valley in Derbyshire Michael makes some new acquaintance 174 CHAPTER XVIII. An explanatory epistle, which does not prove satisfactory Plans for the future, followed by active measures to carry them into effect A morning visit to Mrs. Gabberly 188 CHAPTER XIX. A voyage of discovery A plain statement, leading to the conviction that even where ignorance is not bliss, knowledge is not always hap- pinessA hasty friendship that may nevertheless prove lasting 198 CHAPTER XX. Trade in a flourishing state The benefits conferred thereby to those employed in it The natural logic of religion Its fallibility when put to the test 212 CHAPTER XXI. Miss Brotherton exerts her eloquence, and nurse Tremlett is brought to reason thereby The heiress hardens her heart, and speaks harsh truths to Martha Dowling, but all in vain She conceives a project, and sets about putting it in execution with great spirit 219 CHAPTER XXII. Miss Brotherton sets off on her travels, and feels frightened at her own temerity But speedily recovers her courage, and plays the heroine She visits some factories, and is introduced to a Sunday-school She approaches the precincts of the Deep Valley 235 CHAPTER XXIII. Miss Brotherton and her friend arrive at the Deep Valley A review Disappointment " A sudden thought strikes" the heiress She con- cludes a bargain, though not the one for which she meditated She sets out upon a walk 254 CHAPTER XXIV. The walk proves too fatiguing to'one of the party, but not to Miss Bro- therton She wanders further, and meets with an adventure, but at last returns in safety to her inn A journey homeward, and a fact re- lated without ornament .. 262 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXV. PAGE The narrative returns to its hero And relates why and wherefore he was kept alive The boy grows tall, and takes to thinking 278 CHAPTER XXVI. A dismal enterprise, and its melancholy result Martha Dowling pu- nished more severely than she deserved Very wild projects conceived by Miss Brotherton, and speedily put in execution 289 CHAPTER XXVII. Michael Armstrong sets out upon a dangerous expedition Its termi- nation proves rather more than he can bear He meets a good man and takes service under him He asks and obtains a holiday, and meets several adventures in the course of it 297 CHAPTER XXVIII. An important interview Doubts and fears 321 CHAPTER XXIX. Michael calls his wisdom to council, and the points to be discussed puzzle them An early walk An old friend with a changed face 334 CHAPTER XXX. Michael grows rich, and takes a very delightful walk back to Westmor- land His preparations for a longer journey are suddenly stopped He makes apainful visit, but meets many old acquaintances 340 CHAPTER XXXI. A friendly consultation A dangerous embassy Lady Clarissa receives some disagreeable intelligence An awkward contest Unpleasant visions A fitting termination to the confidential union between master and man 357 CHAPTER XXXII. Mr. Augustus Dowling gives his sister Martha notice to quit the pre- mises, which occasions Michael to appear in a new character A long journey taken by novices, but they do not lose their way, and arrive at the right place at last 370 CHAPTER XXXIII. A tlte-a-tete A second A third A mysterious result Conclusion .... 379 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG, THE FACTORY BOY. CHAPTER I. DESCRIPTION OF DOWLING LODGE AND ITS APPURTENANCES OF ITS MASTER OF ITS MISTRESS AND ALL THE MASTERS AND MISSES DOWLING A LARGE DINNEB-PARTY A HOT DRAWING- ROOM, AND THE WAY TO ESCAPE FROM IT. No traveller can ride or drive within sight of Dowling Lodge, without being tempted to inquire, " Whose house is that ?" It forms, indeed, a very striking object on the right of the London road, as the hill rises gradually, and overlooks the town of Ashleigh, one of the busiest in Lancashire, to the left; for although the trees about the mansion are not yet of sufficient growth to make it pic- turesque, its lofty portico, well-proportioned wings, and command- ing site, render it an ornament to the neighbourhood for miles round. Those who are admitted to a nearer view of the house (and, for the convenience of the public, every Wednesday is set apart for its being shown), will find still more to admire, than such as see it only from a distance. It has its park and its pinery ; conservatories, which cause the mercury in the thermometer, when paraded through them, to run up to the cocoa-ripening heat of the tropics, and ice- houses that would bring it down again to the temperature of Bhering's Straits. It has three drawing-rooms, two dining-rooms, a great library, all full of new books ; as many bedrooms, dressing-rooms, and boudoirs, as a great man's house ought to have, and a study besides Sir Matthew Bowling's own private study. This de- lightful little apartment is small, not more than twelve feet square ; but nothing can be more agreeable and convenient. It opens by one door from the great hall of entrance, and by another commu- 2 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES nicates through a long stone-passage with the offices of the mansion ; enabling the knight to receive, without interruption, not only his overlookers (Sir Matthew being the proprietor of many cotton-mills), but his coachman, gardener, bailiff", and whomever else he might wish to transact business with. Of the fitting up of this princely mansion, it is only necessary to say, that it is done in a spirit of emulative imitation, which ren- ders it, fully equal, in this respect, to the most finished private dwellings in Europe. The furniture is uniformly rich throughout : the picture-frames in the best style of art ; Saxony carpets in the drawing-rooms, Turkey ditto in the dining-rooms, Brussels in the bedrooms, and indeed not a single inch of Kidderminster any where, except in the garrets. I will not attempt to state the amount of Sir Matthew Bowling's wealth ; Cocker himself would have found it a laborious task to make the calculation ; and it is sufficient for the gratification of all reasonable curiosity to say, that throughout the whole line of that Golconda country, which, being the busiest of the manufacturing districts, is probably the richest in the world, there was not any one who could vie in wealth with him. In a word, he shone amidst his rich neighbours like a golden sun, surrounded by silver moons. But Sir Matthew was a superior man in all ways. He was six feet two inches in height, and stout in proportion, with hands and feet that might have sufficed a giant. His intellectual gifts were also of no ordinary character. He liked well enough, perhaps, to stand pre-eminent in the commercial estimation of his neighbours; but so enlightened was his spirit, that he liked better still to shine be- fore their eyes as a man of taste, a literary and accomplished gentle- man, a speaker of modern languages, a critical French scholar, a playful votary of the muses himself, and a universal Mecsenas to all who wielded a pen in their service. But beyond all else, Sir Matthew valued himself upon his reputation for the lighter graces of wit and gallantry : he sought to make himself into something of a delightful mixture between Killigrew and the Count de Gra- mont ; and there was no receptacle of wit from Joe Miller downwards, no gallant memoirs in an intelligible tongue, that he did not study with assiduity and perseverance of the highest order. He was often heard to declare, that he loved nothing so well as the promotion of mirth and light-heartedness among his fellow- creatures ; but tragedy and comedy often walk through the world hand in hand together, and their alliance may be traced without difficulty in the career of Sir Matthew Bowling. The wife of this prosperous gentleman had also many admirable qualities. She was not one of the idle gossipers who delight in chattering about their own concerns to every one who will listen ; she despised such weakness, and had never been heard to hint at her own parentage, or early history, to any one; rightly considering, that when such matters are unceasingly discussed, they may be ex- ceedingly likely to prevent people's minding their own business, while devoting; an undue share of attention to that of others. OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 3 Nevertheless, with nice and laudable discrimination, she took care that her neighbours should be well acquainted with all such facts respecting her as it concerned them to know. There was hardly an individual within ten miles who was not aware that Lady Dowling kept two carriages, six horses, one coachman, one postilion, five gardeners, two grooms, three footmen, one butler, and a page- not to mention two nurses, four nursery-maids, and more ladies'- maids, housemaids, cookmaids, kitchen-maids, laundry-maids, still- room maids, dairy-maids, and the like, than any other lady in the county. Neither could any be ignorant that, except in the article of jewels, her wardrobe might vie with that of any duchess in the land, and all might see, moreover, that she was comely still, both in form and feature. She conversed with great ability on all sub- jects connected with fashionable life ; and though some few carping critics thought that she was too apt to diversify the monotony of the English language, by indulging in some remarkable variations from its ordinary laws, nobody, or scarcely any body, attempted to deny that she was on the whole a very charming woman. Such was the testimony of her general acquaintance ; those who knew her better were aware that her moral qualities outshone, as they always ought to do, all her external graces. She was a faithful and exceedingly fond wife, and doted upon all her children ; no woman could more heartily detest every species of light flirting airs in females, and, being deeply sensible of the dangerous attractions of youth and beauty in her own sex, she studiously avoided bringing those of her family who might suffer thereby from coming in contact with any thing of the kind ; so that the female portion of her establish- ment consisted of the ugliest set of neat and carefully dressed middle-aged women that ever were found assembled together. The knight and his excellent lady were blessed with a very numerous progeny, certainly not less than eighteen or twenty ; but, as they were rarely all at home together, it was at no time easy to count them. Augustus, the eldest of the family, was a prodigiously fine young man, just returned from college. He had not indeed thought it necessary to take a degree, nor did Sir Matthew or her ladyship particularly wish it ; both of them being of opinion that little dis- tinction could be gained by the assumption of a title which was never used in society, and to which he conceived every Englishman to be eligible who could just read and write a little. But as, on all points that concerned the interest of his eldest son, Sir Matthew was too deeply interested to run any risk of blundering : he did not give his consent for the return of Augustus, without his having gone through this idle academic ceremony, till he had paid a visit to the rector of his parish, to elicit from him some information on the subject. " May I ask, sir," said Sir Matthew abruptly, " what degree you took at the university ?" Mr. Hetherington was a new incumbent, and might, perhaps, have been a little affronted at a question which, by the blunt manner of it, seemed almost to insinuate a doubt whether he had taken any B2 4 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES degree at all; but, though a good man, and an excellent clergyman to boot, he had a strong taste for humour, and had already dis- covered that his neighbour at the great house was rich in more ways than one. It was, therefore, with the utmost civility that he answered, " My degree, Sir Matthew, was that of Master of Arts." " And pray, sir, does it give you any title by which you can be distinguished as in any way a superior sort of person in society ?" " I am afraid not, Sir Matthew," was the reply. " I thank you, sir, for your sincerity," rejoined the knight. " It was important that I should ascertain the truth on this point. You are, then, never addressed in company as Mr. Master of Arts, or any thing of that kind ?" " I have never yet, Sir Matthew, met with any one of sufficient politeness to do me that honour," replied Mr. Hetherington gravely. " And I suppose you have lived in respectable society?" "Very decent society very decent, Sir Matthew," replied Hetherington, whose mother was the daughter of a distinguished nobleman. " Good morning, sir ; I shall be happy to see you at Dowling Lodge that is to say, sir, if your gown does not lead you to object to elegant amusements. I love science, Mr. Hetherington, and am indeed devoted to every thing intellectual ; but, notwithstanding this, I am a worshipper at the shrine of grace and wit, and could not exist among people who did not relish the lighter embellish- ments of society." " I shall be happy, Sir Matthew, to share in your gayer hours, provided I am fortunate enough to find that you have no objection to profit by my graver ones," replied the clergyman. Sir Matthew returned from this visit very well pleased with the new rector. Mr. Augustus was immediately comforted by a letter, informing him that he might call in his accounts, and prepare to leave the university as soon as he pleased ; and, within ten days after receiving it, the amiable young man was restored to the bosom of his family. Next to this primal hope of the Dowling race, came three young ladies, between the ages of seventeen and twenty-one; the two eldest of them being as like as two peas, and the third like nothing on earth but herself. Then followed several young gentlemen, who were placed at different fashionable schools ; for Sir Matthew, who was a man of very enlarged mind, declared it to be his opinion and his principle, that the patronage of such a fortune as his should be extended as widely as possible. After these young gentlemen came, one after the other, with the interval of about eleven months between them, ever so many little girls, who, for the present, were all educated at home, having a particularly clever French governess. All the rest were nice little children of different degrees of baby- hood ; the dear little girls being remarkable for their long plaited hair, short frocks, and furbelowed trousers, and the dear little boys for the manly bustle with which they wore their Scotch bonnets and plaided tunics, which, considering that neither Sir Matthew nor hb OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 5 lady had ever been in Scotland in their lives, showed great enlarge- ment of national feeling. Altogether, it was considered to be the finest family ever seen. It happened upon a broiling day about the middle of July, during one of the hottest summers England had ever known, that Sir Matthew and Lady Bowling " entertained a party of distinguished fashionables" at dinner. It may have been remarked by those who study such subjects, that there is a difference between a dinner-party given at such a grand mansion as that of Sir Matthew Bowling, and one at a dwell- ing of perhaps not a quarter the size, where the owners are of a dif- ferent order of the aristocracy, having a longer pedigree, and a shorter purse. At both, probably, the banquet will be a costly one, yet the one entertainment will come off" in a manner as unlike as possible to the other. There is something in the usual way of wearing stiff new-made grandeur, not far unlike that of wearing stiff new- made clothes. Neither the one nor the other sit easily. At this splendid dinner at Bowling Lodge, the company consisted of a selection from the neighbouring families, made on the most le- gitimate principles of exclusiveness ; no family being invited who did not drive four horses at the races. To this there were indeed two exceptions. The first was the Right Honourable Lady Clarissa Shrimpton ; but this distinguished lady, though she drove only one pony instead of four horses, was considered by all the country round as the one thing needful to render a party completely elegant. She was, indeed, neither young, handsome, nor rich, but she was Lady Clarissa, and this was enough. The other exception was to be found in the rotund person of Br. Crockley, who having formerly been a celebrated quack, made a little fortune, and taken out a diploma, had lately married a beauty, and settled in the town of Ashleigh, where he was well pleased to pick up a few guinea fees, both as a public evidence of his being a real M.B., and as a private fund wherewith to indulge his still very tender passion, by buying finery for his pretty young wife. This fat little gentleman was an especial favourite with Sir Mat- thew, chiefly on account of his jocund humour and ready laugh; and also, perhaps, because he had a pleasant way, peculiar to him- self, of paying compliments in the bluntest and most unstudied manner possible. But, notwithstanding the presence of all these distinguished per- sons, the dinner moved on very slowly. Sir Matthew, indeed, was as brilliant as it was possible for any man to be under the circum- stances, and Lady Clarissa, who did not scruple to declare that she was very partial to him, listened to all he said to her with as much attention at least as any lady could be expected to do, who was making- one of sixteen at a dinner, where there were an equal num- ber of dishes of hot meats reeking upon the table, and the thermo- meter standing at 87. Br. Crockley, too, laughed repeatedly ; but his laugh was like a Lucifer match that fails, just kindling and THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES sputtering a little, but going out before it is able to communicate its light. The very sight of the servants as they panted round the table, was quite enough to smother and stifle all inclination for enjoyment their shoes creaked their faces shone ice became water the salad looked as if it were stewed the cucumbers seemed to have fainted away the prodigious turbot smelt fishy, and its attendant lobster-sauce glowed not with a deeper tint, than did my Lady Dow- ling's cheeks as her nose caught the unfragrant gale. In short, it was a great dinner in the dog-days, and no more need be said of it. Great was the inward satisfaction of every guest, when at last Lady Dowling rose, and gave signal that the party was to be divided in half. The languid ladies welcomed the coolness of the marble hall as they passed through it, and the gentlemen gazed eagerly at the butler as he brought forward a fresh supply of claret, and a reinforcement of ice. But the enjoyment of neither party lasted long ; for Lady Dowling was too grand and too solemn not to marshal all her company into her fine drawing-room, where they were all ceremoniously deposited on satin sofas, amidst swelling pillows that might have defied the frosts of January ; while seven or eight hot-looking children were commanded to walk round the circle and kiss every body. Nor did the gentlemen fare much better; for scarcely had the drawing-room door closed after the ladies, before the shining bald- head of Dr. Crockley stretched itself up nearly to a level with the long-backed Sir Matthew's breast-pin, whilst, with a very ominous sort of growl, making itself heard before his lips opened, he first preluded, and then uttered the following speech. " I don't like it, Sir Matthew. I don't like this business at the Weavers' Arms." " What business, Doctor?" replied his friend sharply. "Why this meeting, Sir Matthew. I can't get the notion of a strike out of my head." Every chair was drawn towards the little doctor : no- body had heard a word of it. " Well, gentlemen, perhaps I am mis- taken perhaps there has been no meeting," resumed the friendly doctor. " God knows, I don't wish to spoil the enjoyment of this delightful hour ; but at any rate, my good friends, it is as well for you to be on the look-out." Then lowering his voice, he muttered, as near to the ear of Sir Matthew as he could reach, " I know that your people are meeting, in doors and out of doors. But you are such a good, generous, kind-hearted creature, that I dare say we shall hear, before long, of your having done some d d good- natured thing or other, and that perhaps will set all right ; who knows?" Sir Matthew gave an almost imperceptible nod, and pushed on the claret-jug; but the gaiety of the party had been effectually checked, and it was not long before the second richest man in com- pany (Sir Matthew of course being the first) said, " I do think and OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 7 believe, Sir Matthew, that my lady's coffee would do more to cool us than your wine." The opinion was not opposed, and, much earlier than usual, the gentlemen rose, and followed the ladies. But this movement did not appear greatly to increase the enjoy- ment of either party. It was near nine o'clock, but the heat con- tinued to be most oppressive, and the company being for the most part massive in all ways, their union produced more additional ca- loric than gaiety. The whole process seemed to have the power of turning the hours into molten lead as they passed, a portion, of which appeared to drop, and weigh heavily on each individual head. In vain Sir Matthew made the circuit of the company, pausing in front either of the richest or handsomest ladies, as duty or inclination' preponderated ; in vain he uttered his newest puns and freshest bon-mots not one of them had strength to laugh, beyond a little feeble " he, he !" and even that was evidently a painful effort. Things were in this state, when Lady Clarissa Shrimpton suddenly rose from the silken couch amidst whose pillows she was im- bedded, and, without explaining her intentions to my Lady Dowling, or any one else, darted through the open French-window, and out upon the well-shaven lawn. Had it been possible that any one in the room could have been ignorant of the rank of Lady Clarissa, he must from that moment have felt an innate conviction that she was somebody ; for nobody that was not somebody could have ventured upon so daring an escapade from such a solemn presence-chamber. The effect it produced was electric. Sir Matthew darted across the room with the eagerness of a man of gallantry and gaiety. He piqued himself upon being, of all the great men in the neighbourhood, the one upon whom Lady Clarissa bestowed the most attention. His estimate of the outward advan- tages of his extensive person was indeed not a low one ; and, despite all his lady could do to crush such an odious idea, he was conscious that he was devoted to the fair sex, and flattered himself that the fair sex was not ungrateful. In fact, his general manner to ladies had a good deal of what in female slang is called swaining ; but to Lady Clarissa it was certainly something more. Had she been simply Miss Shrimpton, it is probable that, notwithstanding her great mental advantages, she would never have been exposed to the danger of this fascinating distinction, for she was nearly forty years old, had a sharp nose, and was deplorably thin. But Sir Matthew was not a man to be insensible to the charm of getting talked of in the neighbourhood about his devotion to Lady Clarissa any body, even had she been a skeleton with a Gorgon's head. There was, however, independently of her bewitching title, a charm in her con- versation and character, to which the knight was peculiarly sensible. Her ladyship was celebrated for her devotion both to literature and art ; and she permitted all the world to know, for indeed she never ceased to repeat it, that talent of every kind was to her an object of idolatry. Now Sir Matthew knew that he was full of talent poe- THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES tical talent, pictorial talent, epigrammatic talent, every kind of talent, and it was certainly very delightful to be appreciated by such a superior creature as Lady Clarissa. So strongly indeed did this intellectual sympathy between them occasionally manifest itself, that not even the sharp elbows and red-tipped nose of the noble lady, who, to borrow the phrase of an inimitable describer, was in every sense " preter-blue perfect" could render Lady Dowling quite easy respecting the nature of the friendship. Nor was it without something like a pang that she marked the sudden alacrity of movement with which Sir Matthew now strode across the floor to accompany Lady Clarissa in the extraordinary frolic which led her, in white satin shoes and a gauze dress, to exchange the drawing- room for the garden, at nine o'clock in the evening. But upon this occasion, as upon many others, Lady Dowling found consolation in the well-known fact, that Lady Clarissa rarely moved a step without being obsequiously attended by her humble companion, Miss Mogg. This young lady had been selected to fill her present enviable situation, principally from her appearance, though she was indeed by no means void of many other qualifica- tions admirably suited to it. But in appearance she was a striking contrast to her tall and slender patroness; and, notwithstanding Lady Clarissa's mental superiority, she was not insensible to the advantage of having a foil that should set off the charms upon which she particularly prided herself. Lady Clarissa had a thin, narrow foot, and an ancle, that resembled nothing so much as the leg of a Robin red-breast ; the person of Miss Mogg was supported on shafts that told her Saxon origin, and feet that need not have shrunk from sustaining an ox. Lady Clarissa's slender waist might have been encircled by a ring of six inches diameter ; a cestus of nearly double the span had often gone nigh to suffocate her plump companion. The throat of Lady Clarissa had not only all the flexile length of the swan's, but might even be said to resemble that of the stork in its proportions ; while the head of Miss Mogg was separated from her shoulders by an interval so trifling, as hardly to be percep- tible at all. The hair of her ladyship, though not very abundant, was as black as ink, and its straight nature enabled her to lay it in classic bands upon her forehead, furnishing a graceful foundation for the wreath of oak leaves with which, in judicious imitation of Domenichino's exquisite head of Sappho, she usually adorned herself when in full dress : while Miss Mogg, on the contrary, had a bushy abundance of flaxen curls, which gave a round fussy sort of contour to her face, that could not fail of setting off to advantage the severer outline of the noble lady ; and, in a word, the contrast was alto- gether perfect. To the great satisfaction of Lady Dowling, this round little per- sonage arose, as usual, when her principal rose, and waddled to the window after her. Many people are apt to overlook and forget companions, and the poor toady is as much used to be trod upon as the despised reptile whose name she bears. But if the world in OP MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 9 general be found guilty of this scorn towards what is too lowly to turn, and scorn again, more especially was our knight liable to the weakness. As he now hastened to offer his hand to Lady Clarissa in order to assist her in stepping over the window-sill, he very nearly over- turned Miss Mogg as he passed her ; but heeding neither the re- sistance her plump person offered to his passing elbow, nor yet the timid " oh !" which spoke her alarm, he hurried onward, and, manfully seizing the hand whose touch was honour, walked out side by side with the titled lady upon the lawn. CHAPTER II. A DELIGHTFUL UAMBLE FRIENDSHIP AND THE MUSE AN AD- VENTUKE DANGER AND ESCAPE GRATITUDE AMD BENEVO- LENCE. "ONLY see that! How very extraordinary!" exclaimed Lady Dowling, suddenly rising, and addressing herself to no one in parti- cular. *' Oh ! how delightful !" cried several ladies at once. " How clever Lady Clarissa is ! Such a delicious refreshment !" " To be sure, it is the only thing in the world to do on such an evening as this," exclaimed Miss Brotherton; who, as being the richest young lady in company, very properly thought she ought to speak first. " I am sure I shall follow her example;" and so saying, she rose and walked towards the window. Three of the most daunt- less ladies in the party started up to follow her ; which, strange as the manoeuvre appeared to the full-dressed Lady Dowling, she did not oppose, greatly preferring that the garden party should be enlarged. But, though not by her, the adventurous fair ones were stopped before they accomplished their design, by a chorus of re- monstrances from all the rest of the company, male and female. " My dear Miss Brotherton, you will catch your death !" cried one. " Oh ! look at. your satin shoes !" screamed another. " What would Mr. Tomkins say if he was here, Mrs. Tomkins ?" demanded a third. " And your neck and shoulders, Miss Williamson!" whispered a fourth. "And your blonde dress, Mrs. Simpkins !" vociferated a fifth ; with a vast deal more in the same strain. So that before the sortie was accomplished, every lady, save Miss Brotherton, yielded before the storm of reasons that pelted them on all sides. The rich young 10 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES lady, however, stood firm : what 'young lady with two hundred thousand pounds would not ? " Mr. Augustus Cowling," said she, still pursuing her way \vindow-ward, but pausing ere she stepped out, " will you have the excessive kindness, vraiment j'ai honte ; but will you have the charity to look in the hall for my pink satin mantelet, trimmed with swansdown ; without it I fear my poor little shoulders will be arrosees ' too rudely, alas !' with the dews of night." Now the young lady's shoulders were really very pretty little shoulders, and, moreover, Mr. Augustus Dowling, notwithstanding all his elegant nonchalance, perfectly well remembered that she had two hundred thousand pounds; so, before she had stamped with her little foot twice, in her impatience to join those who, from their gaiety, seemed to be so greatly enjoying the fresh air, he returned with the mantelet, and having, as usual, adjusted his glass in the corner of his eye to prevent his making any mistakes, placed it on her shoulders. " Now, then !" she cried, " give me your arm. Is not this good fun?" The young gentleman obeyed, declaring it was delightful, and in a moment they were beside Lady Clarissa and Sir Matthew ; good Miss Mogg keeping a step or two behind. " Nobody but your ladyship had wit enough to find out that there was more air to be got out of doors than in," said the heiress, venturing to pass her arm through that of her noble friend. But, upon this occasion, Lady Clarissa, though particularly intimate with Miss Brotherton, and seldom refusing to use her carriage and act as her chaperone to all the parties in the neighbourhood, seemed inclined to check her advances. " My dear child," said she, " I am delighted to see you come out. I am sure you must have been half stifled, as well as myself. But you and Mr. Augustus must wander away by yourselves, and you may take Mogg with you, if you like it, for I have just got into a discussion with Sir Matthew, that I would not break off for the world. So away with you, my dear, as fast as you can." Lady Clarissa's will was of course law, even to the heiress, but it was not without a little toss of the head that she turned off to another walk ; nor was it without a considerable struggle between her inclination and a sense of propriety, which, all things consi- dered, really did her honour, that she permitted poor Miss Mogg to obey the hint of her patroness, and follow after. '' And so you really have not seen this gifted young man yet, Sir Matthew ?" resumed her ladyship, as soon as they were again alone. " You have never yet seen this Osmund Norval?" " No, my lady, I have not," replied the knight ; " and to say the truth," he added, venturing to press with his stout arm the slender one that rested on it, "to say the truth, though I have heard a monstrous deal about him, I was determined that I would have nothing to say to him, till I had heard your opinion, my lady." OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 11 " How kind ! how flattering, Sir Matthew ! But you will let me bring him to you now ?" "Will I?" (again pressing the lean arm.) "Fancy me saying no, when you tell me to say yes ! Ah ! my lady, you know better than that, or I am greatly mistaken." " Oh ! Sir Matthew, you are always so kind ! What magnificent gardens you have ! By the way, I think I never tasted such a pine as that we had to-day. I assure you, my brother, Lord Highland- loch, is celebrated foj: his pines quite celebrated. They are the finest in all Scotland, but I give you my honour, I never saw one equal to it at- his table." " Oh ! my lady, that is only your amiable condescension," replied Sir Matthew, greatly touched by this preference. " But if you really can be so polite as to think them good, I must entreat you just to let me knock at the head-gardener's door, who lives close outside this gate. I don't let him live inside, because of his children, Lady Clarissa. I know what birds peck the worst ha ! ha ! ha ! However, you must just let me pass through the gate to tell him to put up a brace for your ladyship. They shall be well taken care of now, my lady, trust me for that ; I never valued them so much before, I promise you." " You are too kind a thousand times !" said the lady, stretching out her own hand to open the gate. " I will go with you ; there is nothing I doat upon like visiting a gardener. Could he not take us into the hot-houses, Sir Matthew ? You have no idea how I should enjoy it." By no means displeased to show off the high-born lady upon his arm, even to the eyes of his gardener, the knight joyfully assented to the proposal. " Macnab !" he cried,' knocking as he passed the cottage-win- dow, " Macnab ! come here directly, and bring a knife and a basket with you ; you must come directly this very moment, and unlock the hot-houses her ladyship wishes to walk through them, and I must have one or two of the finest pines cut, and packed in a basket, to be put into Miss Brotherton's carriage : but mind, they are for Lady Clarissa Shrimpton ; so you had better give them in charge to her ladyship's own man." Mr. Alexander Macnab promptly left the seeds he was sorting, and prepared himself, basket in hand, to follow his master. The knight and the lady left the cottage, arm-and-arm together ; but before they again entered the garden, a fancy seized her lively lady- ship, that a short ramble in the green lane outside it would be the most agreeable thing in the world. " Dear me ! what a poetical idea !" exclaimed Sir Matthew with enthusiasm. " There's only one thing," he said, stopping short, "but that will spoil my pleasure altogether: I am so dreadfully afraid that your ladyship will take cold." " Ask the gardener's wife to lend me one of her kerchiefs," said Lady Clarissa, laughing. " But it will only be to satisfy you, Sir Matthew, for there is no catching cold in such weather as this." 12 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES It was with something quite like tender anxiety that the knight stepped back, asked for and obtained a neat shawl, and himself wrapped it round the slender person of his amiable companion. " Thank you ! thank you a thousand times ! But, dear Sir Mat- thew, I must not lose my pines by my frolic : will you give the gar- dener orders to get them without waiting for us ? and perhaps you would let him put up a bunch of grapes, and a few peaches at the same time it is no good to let him wait for us, Sir Matthew; when you and I get into a chat together, we shall neither of us think of the pines again." Quitting her highly-valued aristocratic arm for an instant, the flattered knight ran back and gave the necessary orders ; and then, almost unconscious, in his full contentment, that his own gray head was as bare as that of the oak-crowned nymph by his side, he re- turned to his bewitching companion and led her gently onward over the mossy turf that bordered the road. The gardener and his wife stood together for a moment looking after them. " Who would think now that she was one of the true old gentlefolks, and Scotch to boot, to see her pair off that way with our rogue of a spinner there ? How, in God's name, can she choose to be so free and friendly with such as he ?" said the gardener. " Just for the same reason as yourself, Sawny," replied his wife ; " to get all she can out of him." " And that's true," replied Sawny, setting off upon his business. " I had like to forget the pines, and the grapes, and the peaches. She's not so far wrong after all ; and yet 'tis a pity, too." * * * * * The evening was still oppressively sultry, and hardly a breath of air disturbed either the leaves on the oaks beside the road, or those that mimicked them so abominably on the lady's brow ; but, never- theless, there was a freshness in the smell of the hedges and the grass, which could not fail to be agreeable to any nerves that had endured the steaming dinner, and the irksome drawing-room of Bowling Lodge. The shady lane in which the knight and the lady were thus re- creating themselves, after skirting the extensive and lofty walls of the garden, turned at right angles both to the right and the left at the corner of it. The branch to the left followed the boundary of the garden, and led to the stable-yard and back entrance to the house ; that to the right conducted to the factory, which was the source and head-spring of all the wealth that flowed over, and irri- gated with its fructifying stream, meadows, parks, hot-beds and flower-gardens, till it made itself a prodigious cistern in the depths and heights of Dowling Lodge. When the strangely-matched pair came to this point, Sir Matthew made a halt, till Lady Clarissa came to the end of a little poem, which the protege whom she was so desirous of introducing to her rich and (to use her own words) " really very clever friend," had in- scribed in her album. Nothing could be more agreeable to her ladyship than this pause. OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 13 In the first place it was the greatest possible relief to her lungs, for the lines she was reciting were much too full of deep feeling to be repeated without a painful effort, while walking; and in the second, the halt, accompanied as it was by a look of earnest attention from her apparently-delighted companion, furnished the most agreeable commentary in the world upon the poem itself, as well as on her manner of reciting it. It said so plainly, " Stay ! move not ! lest a word, an intona- tion, a cadence, be lost to me !" Lady Clarissa was really touched by it ; and let Sawny the gar- dener, and his wife Janet, say or think what they would, neither peaches nor pines had any thing to do with the gratification she at this moment experienced in the society of the great manufacturer. His eyes were fixed on her face, and she bore the gaze, and returned it with that sort of courage and confidence, which genuine enthusiasm alone can give. She had just finished a stanza when Sir Matthew ceased to move, and feeling that he did so under the influence of a spell, which she well knew would be more powerful still were it spoken when she were at rest for Lady Clarissa was aware that she was exceedingly short-breathed she repeated the last eight lines in a manner that showed she felt the pleasure she was producing a pleasure, as she thought, like that occasionally caused by the repetition of some delicious phrase in a musical composition, reiterated as if to fill the soul with its sweetness. " And should the eye for which I write By sun-lit morn, or moon-lit night, Drop on this record of my soul, Which tells a part ah ! not the whole, Of hopes that trembling, faltering, timid, Now fire my cheek, now turn it livid, Should that soft eye but drop one tear, I'd hug my chain, and call it dear !" The tear asked for, almost came as she ceased. " You feel it, dear Sir Matthew !" she said, in a voice of consider- able emotion. " I'd hug my chain, and call it dear!" she again murmured, hanging on his arm with such an evident degree of weakness, as showed the slender form to be less powerful than the ardent spirit it enshrined. " Let us turn back," said Sir Matthew. " My dear friend," faintly ejaculated Lady Clarissa, " you are moved too strongly. But no, no ! Sir Matthew ! Believe me, it were far better for both of us that we should proceed. Are we, either of us, my dear friend, in a state at this moment to meet the curious stare of idle eyes? Come on, dear Sir Matthew!" and she gently pulled him forward as she spoke " this soft glade invites us." Though perfectly determined to find some excuse for not leading his fascinating companion within sight of his grim-looking factory, which another turn in the lane at no great distance would have made very unpicturesquely visible, it was impossible at that moment 14 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES not to yield to the gentle violence which carried him forward ; and, in what Lady Clarissa felt to be very eloquent silence, he proceeded for a few steps farther. Considerably, however, before they had reached the dreaded turning, his good star shot a ray upon him in the shape of a very large cow, with a pair of enormous horns, that slowly turned the corner, and fronted them. " Good heaven !" he exclaimed in an accent of great alarm. " There is that horrid spotted cow ! she is the worst beast in the whole parish. Turn back, dearest Lady Clarissa ! turn back instantly." " How kindly considerate !" returned Lady Clarissa. . " But you little know the strength of your friend's mind, Sir Matthew. Were I alone, indeed, I might tremble and turn as pale as the veriest child that ever hid its face on a nurse's lap ; but with you !" and here the lady turned a very flattering glance on the athletic form of her protector " Heaven knows," replied Sir Matthew, once more pressing her lean arm, " Heaven knows that all which the strength of man could do to protect you, would not be left undone by me but consider the dog!" he added, pointing to a little cur that always followed him; " its power of irritating an animal of this kind is quite extraordinary." And as he spoke, he whistled in a note which meant, as his dog Spite knew as well as he did, neither more nor less than " At her, Spite !" " If any thing can keep Spite quiet," resumed the knight, " it is whistling to him." Obedient to the true meaning of the signal, however, the dog sprang forward, and of course there ensued the scene which always follows on such occasions. The dog yelped, and affected to spring at the nose of the cow, while she, somewhat accelerating her stately pace, threw up her tail, and bent down her head till her horns nearly touched the ground, offering so exact an image of " the cow with the crumpled horn," with whose portrait her ladyship's early studies had made her familiar, that her confidence in the prowess of Sir Matthew could sustain her no longer, and she rapidly uttered a succession of tremendous screams. The purpose of the knight was accomplished, and he therefore indulged the fair lady by letting her scream on for at least a minute and a half, while he supported her with every appearance of the most pitying tenderness. Meanwhile, two little boys, who were making their way from the factory homewards, across a field by the side of the lane, ran with terrified curiosity, and all the strength they had, to a gate, through which they could see the interesting spectacle of a fine full-dressed lady, screaming with all her might from between the sheltering arms of the magnificent Sir Matthew Dowling, and a little dog worrying an old half-starved cow. ** Come here, you young scamps !" cried the knight, on perceiving the two little heads peeping over the gate : " Don't you see what's going on ? Clamber over the gate, can't you, and drive back that devil of a beast." OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 15 The youngest, but by far the stoutest and tallest of the two boys, instantly obeyed this command, and placing himself midway be- tween the tormented cow and the fair creature, whose nerves her menacing attitude had so cruelly shaken, he stood manfully astride in the middle of the lane, flourished his ragged hat on high, and with a few lusty " wough ! woughs !" repeated at the top of his young voice, succeeded in turning the front of the enemy, which was presently seen to wheel round, and, by a sort of feeble, ambling little trot, speedily got out of sight round the corner. ' Now, then," said Sir Matthew, " let me lead you home, my dear lady !" ' Not till I have thanked my little deliverer," exclaimed Lady Clarissa, with very sentimental fervour. " Good heaven ! what might have been my fate without him ! I know I feel, Sir Matthew, that you never could have borne to leave me, and what then could have stopped the fearful approach of that most vicious animal ? Death, or worse than death dislocation of limb, disfigurement of feature ! Oh, Sir Matthew, your heart, I know, will go side by side with mine. Tell me, what can I do what can we both do, to reward the astonishing bravery of that noble little fellow ?" " Depend upon it, my lady, he will be delighted if you will give him sixpence." " Sixpence !" cried her ladyship, turning extremely red, but in a moment she recovered herself and said : " Oh ! Sir Matthew ! do I not know how dearly you love a jest? Men of wit and humour can rarely be grave for long together, even under circumstances that most keenly touch their feelings ; did I not know you well, my friend, what should I not think of your proposal? But come, come be serious for a moment longer : we have, it is true, escaped a tremendous danger, and it may well make us feel light at heart ; but we will not laugh over it, till we have settled in what way that heroic child shall receive the meed he has earned. I shall not rest in peace, my friend, unless his destiny be as favourably influenced by me, as mine has probably been by him. Sir Matthew, you have great power, enormous wealth, a generous heart, a noble nature, and in- tellect, before which, if I mistake not, all difficulties will melt away like a mist before the sun. Of all this I am quite certain. There is but one IF in the business. IF you value me, Sir Matthew, as much as I think you do, that little boy now getting over the gate will be clothed, educated, fed, lodged by you. Do I deceive myself? or will the daily sight of him, by renewing the memory of this evening, rather cause you pleasure than pain ?" Sir Matthew Dowling clearly saw, that sending " the little black- guard to the devil," which was decidedly what his heart whispered to him, would, at this stage of the business, be inevitably sending her sentimental ladyship to at least an equal distance from himself; and this he had no inclination to do. She was the only Lady Some- body Something in the whole neighbourhood, and he was quite aware that he had already acquired more envy and hatred among his friends and neighbours, by the superior degree of intimacy he had 16 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES contrived to achieve with her, than by all his successful struggles to outspend them all. This pleasure was not to be given up for a trifle, especially at a moment when it seemed so very clear that it only depended on him- self to make all the world perceive that they were dearer friends than ever ; so, making a virtue of necessity, he looked in her face with one of his wittiest smiles, and cleverly taking the cue she had given, replied " If you had not found out that I was jesting with you, Lady Clarissa, I never should have believed in your friendship more! Come here, my boy," he continued, raising his loud voice to a note that must have been heard as far as the factory, " come here, I say." The little fellow, on hearing these imperative accents, which were not quite unknown to him, thought this was the first time he had been so greatly honoured as to have them addressed to himself, again let go the hand of his brother, by whose side he had begun to resume his progress homeward, and once more clambering over the gate, presented himself, cap in hand, before the illustrious pair. " You are a happy little boy, "said Lady Clarissa, " in having had the extraordinary good fortune of looking over yonder gate at the moment you did ; and you are a brave little fellow into the bargain for not running away, as you certainly might have done, when you saw that dreadful beast. Oh ! those tremendous horns, Sir Matthew ! they haunt me still ! I am quite sure it will be weeks before I lay my head on my pillow without dreaming of them. But you drove them away, my dear child, and as a reward for it, you shall be com- fortably clothed and fed for the rest of your life. You will like that, won't you ?" " I should very much like never to go to work at the factory any more," replied the child ; " but, please ma'am," he added the minute after, " I'd sooner you'd clothe and feed Teddy than me. He looked over the gate first, please ma'am." " Did he, my dear ? Then that is another reason why this good gentleman's favour should be shown to you ; for if your brother saw my distress first, it was you who were the first to relieve it." "That was only because Teddy is so lame, please ma'am," said the boy. " Lame, is he?'' repeated her ladyship, " Poor fellow ! However, my little man, if 1 do not greatly mistake, you have this day made a friend by serving me, who will put you in a situation where, if you behave well, you will be able to assist all who belong to you." The child opened a pair of remarkably large eyes, and fixing them on her face, said, " What! mother and all?" " Yes, I should think so, my dear. He is a fine intelligent look- ing little fellow, is he not, Sir Matthew ? But he does not look healthy. However, I dare say he will improve in that respect. Plenty of food generally cures all poor people's complaints, par- ticularly when they are young. How old are you, my dear?" " Nine last birthday," replied the boy. OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 17 " A tall little fellow for his age, though very thin, to be sure. And what is your name?" " Michael Armstrong, ma'am." " Michael Armstrong : I shall not forget it, I assure you ; for truly do I believe that I should have been trampled in the dust by this time, if you had not been heart-strong as well as Armstrong. And what shall we do with him at first; Sir Matthew ? Shall we take him home with us ?" " What ! to your cottage, my dear lady ? Yes, certainly, if it will give you pleasure." " My dearest Sir Matthew ! there you are at your jestings again." "Ha! ha! ha! Lady Clarissa, you begin to know me so well, that I shall never be able to cut my little dry jokes upon you," re- plied the knight laughing, as it seemed, most heartily, but inwardly cursing the audacious exaction of his fair friend, in attempting to make him pay the enormous price she hinted at, for permitting him to enjoy the honour and glory of flirting with her. The idea of being thus entrapped, and forced to adopt " a bag of rags out of his own factory" (for it was thus he inwardly designated little Michael), galled him for a moment so severely, that he was within an ace of exclaiming, " Confound you, and the beggar's brat together, you old fool /" But, most fortunately k for all parties, he'did no such thing ; on the contrary, he happily remembered at that critical moment the important hints he had received from his excellent friend Dr. Crockley, and instantly decided " that this absurd whim of her ladyship's should be worked up into the d d good-natured thing that was to set all right." At the very same moment, as if to confirm his resolution, Lady Clarissa drew from her pocket a cambric pocket-handkerchief, something the worse for wear, perhaps, but most elaborately em- broidered at each corner with the coronet of a countess. It was one of a dozen bequeathed to her a few years before by her thrifty and truly admirable mother, the late Countess of Highlandloch. This coincidence appeared to be the work of Providence. " Give me your arm, my charming friend !" said the well-satisfied knight, with an air of tender gallantry, " and only remember, that all I shall do in this business, will proceed wholly from my devoted friendship to you. Follow us, little boy, and you shall learn what it is to have served Sir Matthew Bowling's most honoured friend." Having said this, he began leading his fair companion back towards the house as rapidly as might be consistent with the delicate style in which she was shod. "Please ma'am, may I go and tell Teddy?" said little Michael, walking after them. " Teddy ? who is Teddy, my little man ?" inquired Lady Cla- rissa, graciously smiling upon him ; for her ladyship, at no time an ill-natured woman, was at this moment in the best of all possible humours with herself, and every body else. There had been various passages in what had passed between herself and Sir c 18 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES Matthew, during this most delightful walk, which convinced her that the knight, notwithstanding the homage he paid to her rank, could not wholly resist the fascinations of her person, talents, and manners ; and the conviction pleased her. But let not the character of this noble lady be for a moment misunderstood. Lucretia herself would hardly have shrunk with greater horror from an improper attachment. All she dreamed of in her intimacy with Sir Matthew Dowling, with the young poet, Osmund Norval, and with a few other gentlemen whom she was in the habit of meeting, was but that their admiring friendship should be animated by a lambent, innoxious flickering of the flame, which, after a peculiar theory of her own, she believed to pervade the universe, cheering the well-conducted by its mild platonic warmth, but scorching, burning, and destroying those who permitted it to exercise over them a too-sovereign sway and masterdom. That she had reached the age of forty, unsolicited in marriage by any suitor of any de- gree, she attributed, rightly enough perhaps, to the unfortunate disproportion between her fortune and her rank but must she, therefore, live and die without the sweet consciousness of having been loved ? Where was the law that enforced such cruelty ? She knew it not; and accordingly had, for many years, and quite upon principle, made up her mind to permit as many gentlemen, of all ages, ranks, and conditions, to deserve " the soft impeachment,' 7 whether they owned it or not, as it was in her power to captivate. For most of these tender and really very innocent friendships, she was able to assign to herself some excellent cause as poetical sympathy with one, botanical sympathy with another, philosophical religious sympathy with a third, and so on ; but in the case of Sir Matthew Dowling, she sometimes felt a little puzzled herself. It was not, however, that she was weak enough in the least de- gree to blame herself for wishing to be admired by a vulgar man. She had long ago given such feelings to the winds. From the time she quitted, on the death of her mother, the floods and the fells of her native land, to inhabit a pretty little cottage (the timely gift of an English godmother), which happened to be situated in the midst of a manufacturing district, she had been schooling her spirit to en- dure the change from poor lairds of a hundred descents, to rich ma- nufacturers, who would have been, for the most part, quite as pleased had they been unable to trace one. Just at first, her Scotch pride rebelled a little ; but an hour or two of quiet meditation on the subject, led her to perceive so clearly all she might lose, and all she might gain, by being or not being on friendly terms with her neighbours, that she made up her mind on the matter at once, and thenceforward feasted upon delicate cates, and battened in the fructifying sunshine of universal popularity, in a neighbourhood that might be safely described as the richest in the world. But still this did not quite explain the terms she was upon with Sir Matthew Dowling, and she did feel sometimes conscious of taking more pains to please him than she quite knew why uncon- scious that it arose from a latent wish to be distinguished by a man, OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 19 celebrated for the warmth of his devotion to the fair sex. But for this, she must not be out of measure blamed, inasmuch as those who have reached the age for looking on upon the drama of life, can many of them testify that in this she only yielded to a weak- ness very unaccountably common to the majority of the sex. But poor little Michael Armstrong has been left unmercifully long, looking up in her ladyship's smiling face, as she inquired who Teddy was. " Teddy is my brother, please ma'am," was his answer. " Is he still waiting for you at the gate, my dear?" said the lady. " I don't see him." " He can't stand very well, ma'am, because he is lame," replied Michael. " I shouldn't wonder if he was set down, and gone to sleep." " Gone to sleep ! why it is "hardly bedtime yet, my dear, is it? However, I suppose he had better go to see, Sir Matthew ? Your brother," turning again to the child, " is younger than you are, I suppose, if he falls asleep on the grass like a baby. Is he old enough to go home by himself, and tell the great news that has happened to you ?" " Teddy is two years older than me only he is always so tired," replied the boy. " Well, then, just step back, and bid him run along home by himself, and tell all the family what a fine act you have done, and that Sir Matthew Bowling is going to take care of you all the rest of your life." Michael now, for the first time, ventured to look steadily up into the face of the majestic Sir Matthew, and his little heart sank with- in him. It was quite evident from the child's speaking-countenance, that no pleasurable ideas were suggested, by the assurance that Sir Matthew would take care of him all the rest of his life. The knight saw this, and would for a moment have desired no better sport than wringing his neck round ; nevertheless, he patted his head with as- tonishing condescension, and said, " It is quite true, my boy. For the sake of this charming lady, for whose happiness you must pray morning, noon, and night, I will undertake to provide for you. You may step back, if you will, and tell your brother so, who, if he be two years older than you, will be able to make your friends un- derstand the good fortune that has happened to you." " I have got no friends, please sir," said the boy. " Where do you live then ?" " With mother, sir." " Is not she your friend, my poor child ?" demanded Lady Clarissa in an accent of great feeling. " Please ma'am, she is my mother," answered Michael, while a slight flash mantled his pale cheek, and something like a tear twinkled in his eye. " How very odd !" exclaimed Lady Clarissa. " Is she not kind to you, my boy?" " Kind ?" responded Michael, staring at her. c 2 20 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES " Do you love her, my little fellow ?" " Love her ?" again echoed Michael. " Whatever she is, she has not taught you good manners, my lad, or you would not answer her ladyship this way," said the knight rather indignantly. The little boy was certainly very foolish, for, large as his eyes were, they could not contain the salt rheum which, for no reason in the world that the lady or gentleman could guess, first filled them and then ran down in two great big drops upon his cheeks. " I dare say he is hungry," exclaimed Lady Clarissa with sudden animation. " How delightful, dearest Sir Matthew, to have found a little creature so greatly in want ! Are you hungry, my dear ? Tell the truth don't be afraid." " Not very," said the child. " Poor little fellow ! It is quite evident, Sir Matthew, that he is exceedingly shy. Let us go back, shall we ? just as far as the gate, and give the message ourselves to that lazy fellow that he says is asleep under the hedge and two years older than this one. Only conceive ! I am delighted that he is not to be the object of your bounty, for there is nothing so detestable as idleness." Sir Matthew had turned in compliance with the word and action, which expressed her ladyship's desire that he should do so, and in another minute they reached the gate. " Where is this brother of yours ? I don't see him," said Lady Clarissa, looking about. *' There he is, ma'am, if you please," replied Michael, once more climbing over the gate ; and presently he was close under the flowery hedge, extending his two hands to raise a miserably sick- looking child, who was, in truth, soundly sleeping there. In con- sequence of a few words whispered to him by little Michael, the boy came forward with a shuffling gait, his knees sloping inwards, and his legs frightfully emaciated ; but the moment he reached the gate, Lady Clarissa exclaimed, " Good gracious ! how beautiful !" It was indeed a lovely face that was then turned up to meet her eye; and when, as if somewhat daunted by her earnest gaze, he removed his own from her countenance to that of Sir Matthew, the bright flash that lighted it up for a moment made it appear more beautiful still. " And what is your name, my pretty boy ?" said the lady. " Edward Armstrong," was the reply. " But, my dear child, you don't look well, and you ought not to go to sleep so, quite late in the evening, upon the grass. What makes you so very sleepy, my dear? Have you been at play?" " No, ma'am," replied the boy, furtively glancing at Sir Matthew, " I have been at work." " At work ! You can't have done much work, my poor little fellow, looking as you do." " I have been at work since" " My clear Lady Clarissa, I really will not let you stay another moment," suddenly exclaimed Sir Matthew. '< The heat is gone OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 21 off, and I am sure you will be quite chilled if you remain any longer out, of doors." " I believe you are right, my dear friend," said Lady Clarissa, with a glance of affectionate gratitude for this earnest zeal. " Let us go. Never can I forget the kindness you have shown me during this eventful walk, and heartless indeed must I be were I to refuse to acknowledge that it has made a deep impression on me." ' For a moment Lady Clarissa held her coroneted handkerchief to her eyes, and then resumed. " Go home, little Edward tell your mother, who, by the by, I trust is not harsh to you, that your brother Michael is rewarded for an act of bravery that probably saved the life of an earl's daughter has been most generously and nobly adopted by her friend Sir Matthew Bowling, and that henceforward she need have no anxiety whatever on his account. Now, then, Sir Matthew, I am ready." " Are we never to see Michael again ?" said the lame boy, while a sudden expression of anguish passed across his beautiful features. " Why not, child ?" replied her ladyship rather sharply. " Do you suppose that Sir Matthew and I are going to hide him ?" " It is all very well then," returned Edward, limping away. " But be sure to go and tell mother all about it yourself to-morrow, Mike." " Come along, little one!" said Lady Clarissa, moving off. " Follow behind this generous gentleman, and see the palace of a home which your bravery has won." So saying, she moved on ; the obsequious knight at her side, and the wondering Michael Armstrong after her. On reaching the gate beside the gardener's house, Sir Matthew paused. He had been meditating, while seemingly listening in rapt attention to the lady's talk, on the effect which would be produced on the party they were about to rejoin, by the appearance of the ragged little companion they had brought back with them. Had he been a ragged sailor-boy, or a ragged plough-boy, or even a ragged chimney-sweeper, there might by possibility have been excited some feeling of curiosity and interest ; but a ragged factory- boy was of all created beings the one least likely to give birth to such emotions, among his friends and neighbours, or indeed to any other emotion fit to be exhibited in good society. So 3 merely saying to his fair friend, " Excuse me, my lady, for one moment," he once more knocked at the cottage-window, and called aloud for " Mac- nab !" The obedient North Briton appeared immediately, and was about to forestal the inquiry he anticipated by assurances that her lady- ship's pines, peaches, and grapes, had all been consigned to the care of her ladyship's own serving-man, when he was very literally struck dumb by his master saying " Macnab, take thislltle boy into the servants' hall, and tell the servants to take care of him do you hear? and he is to have a bed made up for him, and and supper, and breakfast and all that; and to-morrow I will talk to Parsons about what mustbe done for him. 22 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES Observe, Macnab, and take care, if you please, that all the servants about the place know it, that this boy is to be the object of the greatest benevolence." " The greatest what was you pleased to say, sir ?" said the Scotch gardener, really and truly doubting his own ears. " BENEVOLENCE, sir !" shouted the knight vehemently ; " and woe to any one on my estate who dares to question or thwart my design !" " How inspiring is this angelic goodness," exclaimed Lady Clarissa affectionately. " Ah, Sir Matthew! how few there are who know you as I know you !" " Come along, my man," said the Scotchman, leading away Michael ; and he said no more till he was quite sure that the knight and the lady had got far enough in their progress across the garden, to be out of hearing, and then he added : " And now, my little fellow, tell me in God's name what all this means ? Why, you look for all the world like one of the little raggamuffins out of the factory." " I am one of the raggamuffins out of the factory," replied Michael. " You are ? and our master's going to make a house-pet of ye ? Why, now, you'll be made the talk of the whole country. I should not have been one-half so much surprised if he had taken one of our sucking pigs into the drawing-room." " Nor I, sir," said Michael timidly, but with half a smile. " So, then, vou don't understand it much better than I do, it seems ? But what did he say it was for ? He didn't take the Earl of Highlandloch's daughter among the infernal whirligigs, did he, and pick you out as a specimen to be kept in a glass case ?" " I hope he won't put me in a glass case, sir," said Michael, taking courage from the gardener's good-humour ; "but why he brought me here at all, I don't very well understand. The lady said it was be- cause I held up my hat, and cried ' Wough !' to Dame Knight's old cow : but of course she was only making fun." " At any rate, he was making no fun, for he roared like a bull- dog, didn't he ? So his bidding I'll do, let it mean what it will ; and if it brings you food and lodging, I don't suppose you'll break your heart for being taken out of the factory shall you ?" " Not if he'll take Edward out too," said the boy. " Edward out too ! Oh ! Lord, oh ! Lord, how many more ? Did he cry 'Wough !' to the cow, too ?" " I wish he had !" said Michael, shaking his head very myste- riously. * * * * Meanwhile Lady Clarissa and the gallant knight re-entered my Lady Dowling's drawing-room, amidst a perfect storm of questions, exclamations of admiration, wonder, fears for the lady's safety, and so forth. Miss Brotherton, who always took more liberties than any one else, laughed immoderately ; Lady Bowling looked the picture of OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 23 conjugal woe; and good Miss Mogg bustled forward with her usual amiable attention, put a footstool under the lady's misused white satin shoes, took Mrs. Janet Macnab's shawl off her shoulders, and whispered in her ear, that she was dreadfully afraid she must have caught cold. But Lady Clarissa, with a lively action of both hands at once, not only drove Miss Mogg back, but every one else who attempted to crowd round her, saying, " Give me space ! give me space, I entreat you ! I must have ' ample room and verge enough' to breathe. Such a series of adventures ! Lady Dowling, you have no idea ! Good heaven ! I can hardly believe it myself. I have been in the greatest possible danger of losing my life a beast a monster , the most terrific animal certainly that nature ever permitted on the earth ! You know, Mogg, I fear nothing I have the spirit of my race within me. Who ever heard of a Highlandloch being afraid ? But I give you my honour I pledge my noble word to you all, that such a monster as that which I have escaped from this night, might have made the black Douglas fear !" " Or the Earl of Warwick either, perhaps," said Miss Brotherton, for she had heard Sir Matthew utter the word " cow," in answer to the importunate inquiries of his eldest son. *' But what shall I say of Sir Matthew Dowling ?" resumed Lady Clarissa, with increased energy. " Such benevolence ! such noble, disinterested conduct ! No, I cannot I really have no strength left. Miss Brotherton, my dear, pray do order your carriage ; my nerves are in disorder, so is my dress in short, 1 long to get home, and meditate in solitude on my providential escape." Here Lady Clarissa found it necessary to lie down upon a sofa, her faithful Mogg endeavouring in vain to pull her dress over hei slender feet and ankles, for her ladyship was restless, feverish, and unable to remain in the same attitude for a minute together. Ere long, however, the carriage of the heiress was announced, and the languid Lady Clarissa exerted herself to reach it, with the aid of Miss Mogg's substantial arm on one side, and that of Sir Matthew Dowling on the other. " Farewell, my friend !" she uttered with some effort, after taking her seat : " ere long I shall call upon you, and shall hope to see our interesting protege looking very differently from what he did when we parted from him. Farewell ! I do assure you I am almost fainting ! Do ask will you, dear Sir Matthew ? if the fruit, the pines particularly, are put in. I really think they will do me good, and I am sure I want it. Thank you ! thank you ! Adieu ! 24 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES CHAPTER III. INTRODUCTION OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG INTO THE FAMILY OF SIR MATTHEW DOWLING CONJECTURES CONCERNING HIS PARENT- AGE A CONFABULATION BETWEEN SIR MATTHEW AND MR. JOSEPH PARSONS. WHEN Mr. Macnab and his little companion entered the kitchen, in their way to the servants' hall, to which place of honour the wondering Scotchman remembered he had been commanded to conduct his charge, the first person they encountered was Mr. Simkins, the butler, whom some accidental wish or want had led to enter a region but rarely honoured by the sunshine of his pre- sence. " Good morning, Macnab. What ! empty-handed ? I am afraid you have forgotten the little basket of peaches I desired to have ; and upon my word, sir, if you leave it much longer, I shall not consider them worth presenting to the lady for whom I desired to have them. Be pleased to recollect, good Mr. Sawney, that when every garden-wall is hung with ripe fruit, a bottle of comfort will be rather too high a price for a dozen." " Your discourse, Mr. Simkins, is neither civil nor discreet in any way,"' replied the offended North Briton : " my word, sir, is as good as the bank, either in England or Scotland ; and it is beneath a gentleman, to say nothing of your rank as a butler, Mr. Simkins, to suspect that I should forget it." " Well, well, the sooner the better, that's all. But who in God's name have you got here ?" " That is more than I am able to tell you, sir," replied Macnab. " All I know about him is a mystery. Sir Matthew, and a lady that was hardly born to be so free in his company, came to the garden- house about an hour ago, and Sir Matthew was as gay as a lark, and ambled and smirked ; while the Highlandloch's daughter, old fool ! looked as well pleased as if she had been gallanted by the Duke of Argyle. Well, sir, he ordered a basket of the choicest and best for her ladyship, and it went against me, Mr. Simkins, both ways for first it ought to choke her, seeing who she is, and who he is, and next I thought upon my promise to you, sir. How- ever, and nevertheless, Mr. Simkins, I will keep my word with you, if it cost me a ton of coals more in the forcing." " But what's all this to do with your ragged companion there? The child looks as if he was ready to drop. I'll bet a bottle you caught him thieving in the fruit-garden." The boy's colour rose on hearing these words. He spoke not, how- ever,; but his large eyes were turned up to the face of his compa- nion, and the fingers of his little hand pressed the hard palm that held them, almost convulsively. Sawney understood the appeal, and answered it : for though, like many other gentlemen, his code of OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 25 honour was at some points a little loosened and enlarged, to fit and suit his individual circumstances, he felt the value of character as much as any man ; and promptly replied, in good Scotch, which must, however, for sundry weighty reasons, be here translated into English : " No, no, Mr. Butler ! no such thing, I assure you ; the lad's as honest as I am, for aught that I know to the contrary. But, to make a short story of a long one, my lady walked off up the lane, after borrowing a shawl from my wife, and your master with her, Mr. Simkins, who but he Well, I had picked the fruit, packed it, and delivered it over to my lady's man, and was just set down again to my seed-picking, when I heard Sir Matthew's big voice again halloaing to me, and when I came out, there stood the ill- sorted pair, arm in arm together, as before, and this ragged chap beside them." " Well ! and what then ?" ejaculated the portly butler, impa- tiently. " What a long-winded man you are, Macnab." " Hoot, man !" retorted Macnab, " if you want the story, you must just find patience to hear it. 'Take this boy to the servants' hall,' said Sir Matthew, quite upon the strut, ' and order supper and a bed for him.' " " To the servants' hall ?" repeated the indignant man of bottles, measuring the little fellow from head to foot with an eye, which, notwithstanding it was small and bloodshot, was eloquent of scorn. "To the servants' hall ? Sir Matthew will inflict his own company upon us next, I suppose. Why, look at the cotton fluff mixed with his hair ! He is neither more nor less than a factory-boy." " To be sure he is," replied the gardener, shrugging his shoul- ders, " but it's no fault of mine, Mr. Simkins ; to the servants' hall I must take him, right or wrong. Come along, boy." " Stop one moment, if you please, Macnab. Let me step to Mrs. Thompson's room, and speak one word to her about it. Sit down, sit down, will you, for one moment." And away hurried Mr. Simkins, scattering dismay as he traversed the passages, by uttering as he passed along to footmen and housemaids, abigail and page, " Go to the kitchen, do, in God's name! go and see the company Sir Matthew has been ordering into the servants' hall !" And away they flew, one after another, eager to see the wonder ; so that by the time Mr. Simkins himself returned to the kitchen, marshalling the housekeeper before him, at least half-a-dozen ser- vants had assembled there, all of whom were gazing at little Michael, very much as if he had been caught in a forest, and con- veyed thither to gratify their desire of studying natural history. " Who is that dirty little boy, Macnab ?" said the magnificent Mrs. Thompson, advancing to the spot where the gardener was seated with his frightened charge standing beside him, and all the lookers-on making way for her as she passed. " It is a factory-boy sent here by Sir Matthew, Mrs. Thompson," replied Macnab, while, forestalling, it may be, the storm likely to follow the intelligence, he seemed to settle himself in the arm-chair either to enjoy the fun, or abide the tempest. 26 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES But he was, as it should seem, mistaken as to Mrs. Thompson's feelings ; for that lady, though usually considered by the subordi- nates as somewhat warm in temper, appeared on this occasion to be as mild as a lamb. " A factory-boy, certainly," she replied with the dignity that was peculiar to her, " nobody is likely to doubt that, Mr. Macnab ; one might know his calling at half a mile's distance. The vulgar fac- tory itself, with its millions of windows, is not more easily known than the things that crawl out of it, with their millions of cotton specks that is not the main point of the question, Mr. Macnab : it is not what the boy is, but who he is, and for what reason any one has dared to say that he was to sup in the servants' hall." " Oh ! dear me, ma'am," replied the gardener, endeavouring to look very grave, " that wasn't one half of it. To you, ma'am, it's my duty to repeat Sir Matthew's words exact, and this is what he said. ' Macnab,' or ' Mr. Macnab,' for he calls me both at times, 'take this little boy,' says he, 'into the servants' hall, and tell every body there to take care of him every body to take care of him' that was it, Mrs. Thompson, word for word. And then he went on : 'He is to have a bed,' says he, ' made up on purpose for him, and he is to be waited upon with supper and breakfast,' and a great deal more, that Mr. Parsons is to make known to-morrow. But you have not heard all yet, ma'am," continued Macnab, raising his voice, on perceiving that the stately housekeeper was putting herself in act to speak. " Sir Matthew went on, raising his arm like one of his own steam-engines, ' Observe, Mr. Macnab,' says he, ' and take care that all the servants, little and great, know it, that this boy is to be the object of the greatest benevolence.' That's something new for you, Mrs. Thompson, isn't it?" *' Sir Matthew may settle about his benevolence with himself, when he is in his own pew at church," replied Mrs. Thompson, with a very satirical sort of smile ; " but most certainly it shall not be brought to dirty my premises ; so let me hear no more about it, gar- dener, if you please." And with these words, she turned haughtily away. " But, ma'am Mrs. Thompson, you had better stop if you please, for go I must, if that's your answer, and tell Sir Matthew of it." If Mr. Macnab had been a blacksmith instead of a gardener, he might have been less surprised at the phenomena which followed these words ; for he would have known that white heat is stronger than red heat, though it does not look so fierce. He had fancied the housekeeper particularly calm and placable upon this occasion, because, forsooth, she looked rather pale than red when she entered the kitchen ; but no sooner had he uttered this threat of reporting her words to Sir Matthew, than the fact of her being in an exceed- ingly terrible rage became evident. Notwithstanding the usual dignified gentility of her manner, on which, indeed, when more self- possessed, she greatly prided herself, she clenched her fists, raised her arms on high, and from one of the most imposing housekeepers OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 27 in the British dominions, suddenly assumed the aspect of an in- spired fury. " Tell ! You ? Sir Matthew ? Blackguard ! scoundrel ! base-born spinning spider ! I, that have lived with the Duke of Clarington !" " Tis two, too bad, and that's the fact !" exclaimed my Lady Dovvling's own footman, who always sided with the principal person in company, which gave him very much the air of being a superior person himself; " and if I was Mrs. Thompson, I'd throw my salary in the vulgar fellow's face, before I'd bear to have a factory-boy pushed into my company." " And so I will, Mr. Jennings, you may depend upon it," replied the incensed prime ministeress, somewhat softened : " so now, Mr. Macnab, you may just take yourself off, and leave the brat in the kitchen, or take him away with you, as you like best." " I have done my share of the benevolent job, so I will wish you good night, Mrs. Thompson ; and whether this little fellow eats his supper and breakfast in the kitchen or the hall, it will be much the same to him, I fancy." So saying, the gardener rose, and giving a sort of general nod to the company, left the kitchen. Considering that there had been nothing very affectionate in the nature of the intercourse which had taken place between them, it was rather singular that the little Michael should feel as sorry as he did at the departure of Mr. Macnab. But he did feel sorry, and when the door shut after him, he turned away, and hid his face with his uplifted arm. Pride of place, and elevation of character, having been in a con- siderable degree satisfied by Mrs. Thompson's energetic expression of her feelings, something like curiosity awoke within her to learn what the circumstances had been which had induced Sir Matthew Dowling to declare an intention of acting benevolently. For a moment she struggled against it, and again seemed about to leave the room ; but as she turned her eyes upon the child, she seemed to feel that before one so very abject, no loss of importance could be feared, even if she did question him. So, with the air of a judge walking up to the bench, she stalked onwards to the seat Mr. Mac- nab had left, and placing her austere person in it, made a signal with her hand, that the kitchen-maid who had ventured to approach the little boy should stand back, and leave her space to examine him. On one side of this space stood the lordly butler, with his arms folded, and a look of scorn upon his countenance that seemed to question the propriety of the measure Mrs. Thompson had thought proper to adopt. On the other was the courtly Jennings, with an arm resting upon her chair, as if to give evidence that he was near at hand to support her. An extremely fat and very professional- looking cook came next, while my lady's own maid, with all the elegant superiority of attire which marks the station, held a scent- bottle to her nose, that the curiosity which led her to be a witness 28 THE LIFE AKD ADVENTURES of this extraordinary scene, might be punished with as little suffer- ing as possible. Two sprightly housemaids seemed to find some- thing vastly amusing in the whole business, though their evident merriment was restrained by the solemnity of Mrs. Thompson's manner. " Look up in my face, little boy," said the housekeeper, as soon as she had seated herself and saw that those around her stood still, as if they had taken their places, and were prepared to listen. Michael did not move ; he was probably ashamed to show that he was weeping, before the face of a lady who spoke so very grandly. The kitchen-maid gave him a nudge, but a gentle one, whisper- ing at the same time " Look up, my boy. What be you 'feard of? There's nobody as wants to hurt you here." Thus encouraged, Michael let his arm drop by his side, and dis- covered a face that was indeed sallow, and by no means very plump, but with features and expression which, whatever Sir Mat- thew Bowling's men and maids might think of it, might have suf- ficed to make the fortune of an able painter. "Whose child are you?" demanded the housekeeper. "Mo- ther's," replied the boy. " I suspected as much," rejoined the inquisitor, half aside to Mr. Jennings. " And I beant no ways surprised to hear it, I promise you," he replied. Mrs. Thompson sighed deeply. " It is dreadful !" said she. Then, after taking a moment to recover herself, she resumed, " And where does the unhappy person live ?" " Please, ma'am, who?" said the puzzled boy. "The your mother, child. Shame upon you for forcing me to name her !" Michael gave a little shake of the head, which seemed to the merciful kitchen-maid to say, that he did not know what the great lady meant; but he presently replied, as if discreetly determined to mind only what he did understand, " Mother lives in Hoxley Lane, ma'am." " The most deplorable situation in the whole parish ! inhabited only by the very lowest !" observed the housekeeper, with another indignant sigh. *' So much the worse for she," muttered the kitchen-maid ; but not loud enough to be heard by her in whose hands rested the appointment of kitchen-maids as well as cooks. " And why does such as you come here ?" resumed the house- keeper. " Because the squire ordered t'other man to bring me," answered Michael. " I suspect that the boy is a natural fool," observed Mrs. Thompson, addressing the butler. " It is a sure fact, and a great dispensation bad parents have almost always children out of OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 29 shape, both mind and body. You may take my word for that, all of you," she added, looking round her; " and you will do well to teach it to your children after you." " I'll be burnt if I don't think it very likely that it was his own father sent him here, and no one else," said Mr. Jennings, chuckling. "Fie! Jennings, fie!" returned Mrs. Thompson, with a frown. " God in heaven only knows what may have been the cause of it ! Not but what it does look strange, there's no denying that." " Do you know any thing about your father, child ?" said Mr. Simkins in a magisterial tone. " Father's in heaven," replied the child. " Mercy on me ! do you hear him? Is not that like mocking the Lord's prayer ?" exclaimed the lady's-maid. " No, it is not !" said Michael, while a flash of youthful indigna- tion rushed into his face. " My father is in heaven along with God." " I dare say he means that his father is dead," observed the butler with an air of great sagacity ; " and if what has been jealoused at is correct," he added, winking his eye at Mr. Jennings, " it is very natural that he should have been told to say so." " That's very true," said the housekeeper, " and it may be, certainly, that the child knows nothing about it whatever, either one way or t'other indeed I think it's a good deal the most likely that he does not ; but, any how, it's a very shocking business, and, as far as 1 am concerned, I'll neither make nor meddle in the matter. Of course, the men-servants may do just as they like about taking notice of him for here he is, and here he will bide, I dare say ; but 1 recommend the maids to follow my example, and not to injure their characters, nor to corrupt their morals by having any thing to do with the offspring of It is more decent not to finish what I was going to say for your goods, young women, and lucky it is that there is no need. You must all understand me without it." Mrs. Thompson then rose from her chair, and turning her eyes, and indeed her head, aside, to prevent herself from again seeing Michael, she walked with a degree of stateliness and majesty that few housekeepers ever attained, through the kitchen, along the passage, across the servants' hall, into the sacred shelter of her own parlour, where she gave way to emotions which rendered a glass of prime London Madeira absolutely necessary. Meanwhile Michael remained in no very happy condition in the kitchen. He was very tired, very sleepy, very thirsty, very much longing to see his mother and brother, and very greatly puzzled as to himself. But though accounted to be a brave little fellow for his age, he could not muster courage enough to ask any questions of those around him, and if he had, it would have been of no avail ; for the very moment Mrs. Thompson was out of sight, so many of the servants began talking together, that no sounds his voice could produce would have been heard. Jokes and gibes about Sir Matthew, mingled with ridiculous anecdotes, and very cordial abuse of him and all his race, furnished 30 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES the first subject, and filled the first chorus. Then followed some facetious observations from Mr. Jennings concerning Mrs. Thomp- son, and a few of her peculiarities ; and it was in the midst of the giggling which these occasioned, that the kitchen-maid ventured to say " Well, now, you are all so keen, and so clever about her, that I wonder it don't come into your heads to find out that she spoke just like an old fool and no better, when she invented all that rig- marole about the boy. Master might be just the devil you says he is, and ten times worser too, for any thing I know about him ; but the worser he is, the farther I'd be, if I was such a mighty good gentlewoman as she thinks herself, from giving such a bad father out of my own invention to any body whether they corned out of the factory or not." " I do think Molly's right," said one of the housemaids. " What business has the old frump to find a father for him ? Nobody asked her." " That may be all very true, Rebecca," observed the lady's-maid, shaking her head very gravely. " I know well enough, that Mrs. Thompson does not always wait for right and reason before she speaks but that makes no difference as to our having any fami- liarity with this dirty little boy ; for it certainly does appear plain enough, that his mother is very little better than she ought to be." " Lord bless us ! and how much better be you than you ought to be, I should like to know ?" said the fat cook, who had her own reasons for not being at all partial to Mrs. Wittington, her ladyship's waiting-maid. " I ! You miserable lump of kitchen-stuff, that no man in his senses would ever deign to look upon twice ! Do you dare to say that I'm no better than I ought to be ?" Now the cook was an Irishwoman ; and though she had famous black eyes, and teeth like an elephant, her principal claim to the coveted attentions of the other sex (setting aside the attractions which it is but fair to presume her profession gave her), arose from the ready sauciness of her tongue, which, in a brogue as strong as that of the Scotch gardener, and equally dangerous for the untaught to meddle with, was wont to rattle about her, right and left, some- times scolding, but oftener making sport of all who crossed her humour. Now this virtuous outbreak of Mrs. Wittington, was too fair an opportunity to be lost ; and accordingly, putting on as demure a look as her wicked eyes would let her, she replied, " You be better than you ought to be, be you ? Well now, that's a trouble for your con- scious, isn't it ? Is there nobody as can help her out of it ? Think what it is, gentlemen, to be so burdened, and she, poor soul, un- able to confess to a priest, seeing she's a heretic ! Oh ! she's better than she ought to be ! and you've her own word for it too, and that's the reason you see why she's obliged, whether she will or no, to turn her back on this poor little fellow, just because he's father- less. Isn't that a sore strait for a young lady's conscious ? Praise OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 31 and glory to the Holy Virgin, and all the company of saints, now and for ever more, that I beant one bit better than I ought to be, and I hope you beant neither, Molly ; and so just run to the larder, will you, girl, and bring out something for supper, fit for a hungry little boy, that havn't the misfortune to be so burdened in mind as pretty Mrs. Wittington. Oh ! the poor soul ! she's better than she ought to be !" Molly, the kitchen-maid, did not wait for a second order ; and if a capital dish of cold cutlets could have set little Michael's heart at rest, he might then have been a very happy fellow ; but, in truth, he was longing for his own porridge, by his own mother's bedside; and except from the relief afforded by a copious draught of milk, he went to the bed prepared for him by his friend, the kitchen-maid, so little elated in spirit, and so little thankful for the extraordinary change which had befallen him, that, had his noble patroness been made aware of it, she would, beyond all doubt, have punished his ingra- titude, by requesting Sir Matthew to turn him out of doors again ; and, moreover, have for ever abandoned the generous idea of sur- rounding his young head, as she poetically expressed it, with a halo of immortality, by means of getting Mr. Osmund Norval to relate his adventure in verse. Sir Matthew Bowling went to his bed also, hardly better pleased with what had occurred than little Michael. But there was this difference between them : little Michael said his prayers, which the great Sir Matthew did not ; but, on the contrary, spent his last waking moment in cursing, with great fervour of spirit, the folly of the hideous old maid, who had entailed such a detestable burden upon him the result of which, as a peace-offering to the whole body of operatives, was at any rate but problematical. Nevertheless, when he awoke the next morning with his head quite cool, he felt disposed to think more of the hint given him by his friend and favourite Dr. Crockley, and less of the inconvenience of having a few pounds to pay out of hundreds of thousands for a job, which, if well managed, might help, perhaps, to avert a monstrous deal of mischief. With these rational thoughts working strongly in his ever-active brain, he rang his bell, and ordered that Joseph Parsons, his prin- cipal overlooker, should be sent for instantly, and shown into his study. A short half-hour brought the master and man to a tete-d-tete in the snug little apartment described in the first chapter. " Good morning, Parsons," said Sir Matthew. The overlooker bowed his head respectfully. " Have you heard any thing of this meeting at the Weavers' Arms, Parsons ?" inquired Sir Matthew. " As much as a man was likely to hear, Sir Matthew, who, as you will easily believe, was not intended to hear any thing," replied the confidential servant. "And how much was that, Parsons? Sit down, Parsons sit down, and let us hear all about it." 32 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES " I was a coming, sir, if you hadn't a sent for me," rejoined the overlooker; ' for to say truth, my mind misgives me, that there's mischief brewing." " I have heard as much," said the master; "but it can hardly have gone very far yet, if such a sharp-sighted fellow as you only suspect." "That's true, sir," said the man, with a grim smile, in acknow- ledgment of the compliment ; " and I've not been idle, I promise you. But all I know for certain is, that the people, old and young, OUF own people I mean, have, one and all, taken dudgeon about that girl Stephens, that died the week before last, just after leaving the mill. She had been at work all day in the spinning-mill, and who was to guess that she was that low ?" " It was a d d stupid thing though, Parsons, to have a girl go on working, and not know whether she was dying or not." " And how is one to know, sir ? I'll defy any man to find out, what with their tricks, and what with their real faintings." *' You won't tell me, Parsons, that if you set your wits to work, you can't tell whether they are shamming or not?" " That's not the question, Sir Matthew, asking your pardon. There's no great difficulty in finding out whether they are in a real faint, or only making the most of being a little sickish from stand- ing, and want of air. That's not the difficulty. The thing is to know, when they really take to the downright faintings, whether they are likely to live through it or not." " And where is the great difficulty of that ? You know Dr. Crockley would come at a moment's warning at any time, and feel their pulses." " And he does do it, sir. But, in the first place, I doubt if any man can justly tell whether girls are likely to go on fainting, and up again, as lots and lots of 'em do for years, or drop down and die, as Nancy Stephens did. That's one thing; and another is, that Dr. Crockley is so fond of a joke, that 'tis rarely one knows when he speaks earnest, and when he does not. He did see Nancy Stephens, about a month ago, and all he said was, ' she do look a little pale in the gills, to be sure, but a dance would cure her, I have no doubt.' A dance ! says I, doctor. And please to tell me, says I, how the work is to get on, if the factory boys and girls sets off dancing?" " ' Maybe you haven't got a fiddle?'" said he. " Maybe I haven't," said I. " ' Well, then,' says he, ' if it don't suit you to let them dance to the fiddle, I'll bet ten to one you'll be after making 'em dance to the strap.' And with that, if you'll believe me, sir, he set off caper- ing, and making antics, just as if there had been somebody behind a-strapping him. To be sure, it was fit to make one die of laughing to see him ; but that's not the way you know, sir, to do one any good as to finding out the real condition of the people." OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 33 Sir Matthew could not resist a hearty laugh at this characteristic trait of his friend, but he concluded by acknowledging that Parsons was quite right in saying that this way of doing business was more agreeable than useful. " However, Parsons," he continued, " we must not talk about that now, for I have something else to say to you. It is quite plain that they are getting again to their grumblings ; and Crockley, who you know is up to every thing, says that he'll bet his life they have got some new mischief into their cursed heads. Now this must be prevented, Parsons, some way or other; for any harm they can do the machinery, is not the worst of it. 'Tis the rousing up people's attention again, Parsons, there's the danger. Just see what they've done about the blackamoor slaves, by going on boring for everlasting, ding-dong, ding-dong, till they actually got the thing done at last. Now the Philadelphy people and the Boston people are just playing the very same game t'other side the water; and when they have got their way, where will their national wealth be I should like to know? And where will our national wealth be, when these rascals have contrived to stop the mills in- stead of working them ?" " Lord have mercy upon us! Sir Matthew; if you don't make me creep all over to hear you !" exclaimed Parsons. " 'Tis a pity, sir, and often's the time I have said it, that you arn't in parliament yourself you'd pretty soon show 'em what their meddling with fac- tories would do for the country." " 'Tis likely I might, Parsons; but a man can't be in two places at once and depend upon it, there's good to be done here, if we knew how to set about it. I shall make you stare, perhaps, Mr. Parsons, when I tell you what I am about now. It came into my head by accident at first ; but if I don't greatly mistake, I'll make a capital thing of it before I have done." " There's no doubt of that, Sir Matthew, if you sets your mind to it, let it be what it will," replied the confidential overlooker; " and if it isn't a secret, sir, I should like uncommon much to hear it." " No, it's no secret, Parsons any thing in the world but that," replied Sir Matthew, laughing. " What should you say now, Mr. Superintendent, to my taking a dirty little dog of a piecer out of the factory into my own house, and dressing him, and feeding him, and lodging him, all for the love of pure benevolence, and little boys ?" " I don't quite understand you, sir," replied Mr. Joseph Parsons, looking very grave. " No, I dare say you don't. But I think I do, Parsons, and that's more to the purpose. Trust me, man, it will do good if it's only by giving the people something to talk of just now, besides this confounded girl's death. And now, my good fellow, tell me all you know of a boy called Michael Armstrong, for he you must un- derstand, is the hero of my tale." " That's the boy, is it? Then that's why the chap didn't come D 34 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES to work this morning." replied Mr. Parsons ; "I knows him well enough, Sir Matthew, in course ; for he's going on for eight or nine, and he corned to the factory just about five." " And what sort of a boy is he, Parsons ?" " Nothing very particular, Sir Matthew, unless it is because of the unaccountable fuss he makes about his elder brother, who is but a poor rickety, shriveldy sort of a child. For some reason or other, his bones never seemed to come rightly straight, and this Mike makes as great a fuss about him, as if he was his grand- mother," "Are the parents living?" inquired Sir Matthew. " The mother is. She is a bedridden woman, and ought to be in the workhouse ; but she's upish, and can't abide it, and so she lies abed, doing plain work and that, and the two boys' wages main- tains 'em. But I did hear t'other day, she had given in, and was a begging to go into the house, and take the eldest boy with her. These creturs never know what they would be at. I suspect, how- somever, that she has got hold of a notion, that because he's so cripply, he beant to work no more ; but I shall take care to see Butchel, the parish-overseer, about it. It is altogether a trick that, what won't answer his fingers is just as able to handle the reels, and piece the threads as ever they was ; and in course, a little dwarf like him, with his legs like crooked drumsticks, can't look for any but the youngest wages ; so after all, he's one of them as answers best." " No ! Parsons, no ! ejaculated Sir Matthew with sudden energy. That woman must not go into the workhouse. The whole thing shall be got up, I tell you, in the best possible style. What d'ye say now to getting the woman arrested for debt ? or having all her things sold ? and we just stepping in at the very nick of time, to save her from destruction !" There was something so truly comic in the expression of the knight's countenance, as he said this, that even the saturnine Mr. Parsons could not help laughing. " If the born devils don't sing your praises through the country, sir," said he, as soon as he had recovered his gravity, "why we must find some other way to go to work with them." " Now then be off, Parsons, and contrive some clever scheme or other to throw the unhappy family into a quandary." " I understand, sir," said Parsons, nodding his head, and so parted the master and the man. OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 35 CHAPTER IV. * A LITTLE COTTAGE GOSSIP A VISIT OF CHARITY PE.ACTICAL BENEVOLENCE. THE promptitude of the measures taken by Mr. Joseph Parsons, to bring to effect the wishes of his master, showed him to be de- serving the post of confidence he held, as principal superintendent of Sir Matthew Bowling's factory. He lost not a moment in ob- taining a short interview with one of the parish-officers, who was his particular friend, and then made his way to Hoxley-lane, with the intention of questioning the widowed mother of the two Arm- strongs, as to the situation of her affairs, and the particular species of misery from which she might, at that precise moment, be suffer- ing the most. The statement pronounced in Sir Matthew's kitchen respecting the general eligibility of Hoxley-lane as a place of residence, was perfectly correct. It was the most deplorable hole in the parish a narrow, deep-rutted parish-road (too hopelessly bad to be indicted), led from the turnpike down a steep hill to the town of Ashleigh. Exactly at the bottom of the hill, just at the point where every summer storm and winter torrent deposited their gatherings, there to remain and be absorbed as they might, began a long, closely- packed double row of miserable dwellings, crowded to excess by the population drawn together by the neighbouring factories. There was a squalid, untrimmed look about them all, that spoke fully as much of want of care, as of want of cash in the unthrifty tribe who dwelt there. It was like the moral delinquencies of a corporate body, of which no man is ashamed, because no man can be pointed at as the guilty ONE. It was not the business of No. 1 to look after the filth accumulated in front of No. 2 ; and the inhabitants of No. 3, saw no use in mending the gate that swung on one hinge, because No. 4 had no gate at all ; and the dogs and the pigs who made good their entry there, of course found their way easy enough through the make-believe hedge, which throughout the row divided one tenement from another. The very vilest rags were hanging before most of the doors, as demonstration that washing of garments was occasionally resorted to within. Crawling infants, half-starved cats, mangy curs, and fowls that looked as if each particular feather had been used as a scavenger's broom, shared the dust and the sunshine between them, while an odour, which seemed compounded of a multitude of villanous smells, all reeking toge- ther into one, floated over them, driving the pure untainted air of heaven aloft, far beyond the reach of any human lungs abiding in Hoxley-lane. " \Vhere does widow Armstrong live?" demanded Mr. Parsons of a woman who was whipping a child for tumbling in the dung- hill before No. 5. D 2 36 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES " In the back kitchen of No. 12, please your honour," replied the woman, making a low reverence to the' well-known superin- tendent. " No. 12 ! why that's Sykes's tenement and they're on the ground-floor themselves." " Yes, please your honour ; but since the rents have been raised by Sir Matthew, the Sykes's have been obliged to let off the back- kitchen, and live in the front one." " Why there's a matter of a dozen of 'em, isn't there?" " Yes, your honour, they lies terrible close." " Obstinate dolt-heads ! That's just because they pretend to fancy that it is not good for the small children to work I know, for certain, that they have got two above five years, that they won't send to the factory ; and then they have the outdaciousness to com- plain that the rents are raised as if because they are above choosing to earn money in an honest way, Sir Matthew was not to make what he could of his own. Tis disgusting to see such airs, where people ought to be thankful and happy to get work." " That's quite true, no doubt, sir," answered the woman, con- tinuing to shake, and occasionally to slap the grub of a child she had taken oft' the dunghill. " But Robert Sykes's children are very weakly ; and them as your honour talks of, is almost too small though 'tisn't to be doubted that it is the bounden duty of us all to send 'em, sooner than see 'em starve.'' " I fancy so, indeed," replied Mr. Parsons ; adding, with a finger pointed at the squalling child, who still continued under the cleans- ing process above described, "And isn't it a comfort now, Mrs. Miller, to get rid of the plague of 'em ?" The woman ceased to shake her little boy, and looking for a mo- ment at the clear blue eyes that, notwithstanding her rough disci- pline, were very lovingly turned up to her face something like a shudder passed over her. " Get along in with you, Bill," said she, as if afraid that the blighting glance of the superintendent should rest upon him ; and then added, " as long as they be so very small, your honour, they can't do no good if they be sent." " Stuff and nonsense ! there's ways to teach 'em. But don't fancy that I want you to send your brats confound 'em ! They're the greatest plagues in natur; and nothing on God's earth but good-heartedness and love of his country would ever make Sir Matthew, for one, trouble himself or his men with any of the creturs. No. 12, is it, where I shall find the widow Armstrong ?" " Yes, please your honour you'll be sure to find her. She's a cripple pour soul, and can't stir." " She's made up her mind to go into the workhouse, hasn't she ?" demanded the manager. "Have she indeed, poor thing?" responded the woman, in an accent of compassion. " I heard so, as I come along, and that's the reason I'm going to her. Our good Sir Matthew, who to be sure is the kindest-hearted OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 37 man in the whole world, has taken a fancy to her boy, and he'll be a father to him, I'il be bound to say he will ; and that's why 1 think he'd like me to give her a call, just to tell her not to fret herself about the workhouse. If she don't like going there, she needn't, I dare say, with such a good friend as she's got." The woman stared at him with an air of such genuine astonish- ment, that the superintendent felt disconcerted, and turning abruptly away, continued his progress down the lane. By the time he had reached No. 12, however, he had begun to doubt whether his sudden appearance at the bedside of the widow Armstrong might not produce an effect unfavourable to the object he had in view. " As sure as steam's steam," thought he, " she'll be more inclined to fancy that I am come scolding about the boys for some- thing-, than to take her part, or do her pleasure ; so I'll just say a civil word to the Sykeses, and then stroll away on, till such time as the parish officers have been after her. I'll engage for it, that Sam Butchel won't let no grass grow under his feet after what I said to him ; and if I turn in when he's there, as if to see what was going on, it would certainly be more natural-like, and believable." In accordance with this improved projet de charite, Mr. Joseph Parsons walked on ; but he had not proceeded far ere, on turning his head round to reconnoitre, he perceived, not the tall and burly Sam Butchel, the overseer of the parish, but the lean and lathy person of little Michael, advancing with an eager and rapid step towards his mother's dwelling. " Soh !" ejaculated the sagacious Parsons, " here comes the charity job ! It would be worth a week's wages to hear him tell his own story." Mr. Joseph Parsons had a Napoleon-like promptitude of action, which the unlearned operatives described by calling him " a word- and-a-blow man," but which in reality often deserved the higher epithet above bestowed. Scarcely had the thought of overhearing little Michael's tale sug- gested itself, ere a sidelong movement ensconced him for a moment behind a favouring pig-sty, from whence, unseen, he watched the boy enter the door of No. 12. Again Napoleon-like, he remembered all he had heard from her neighbour, concerning the position of the widow's dwelling-place ; and rightly judging that Sykes's back-kitchen must, in some way or other, be in a condition to favour the emission of sound, he troubled not the household by making his approaches through the principal entrance, but striding over the inefficient fence of the tiny cabbage-plot behind, obtained a station as favourable to his pur- pose, as he could possibly desire. This was a nook between a pro- tuberance intended for an oven, and the window close beside the widow Armstrong's bed, from' whence prophetic fate, favouring the yet latent purpose of the manager, had caused three panes to be ex- tracted by a volley of pebbles, intended for mother Sykes's cat, at least two months before. 38 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES To this safe and commodious crouching-place, he made his way just in time to hear the widow say, " Understand one word of Edward's story, Mike; so sit down dear boy, and tell me all." " Why mother, 'tis like a story-book and it's very fine to be sure but yet " And the boy stopped short. "But yet you don't like it, Mike?" rejoined his mother. "That's what you was going to say. Tell the truth, my child, and don't go to keep nothing from me." " That was it," said Mike. " Ungrateful viper '." muttered the confidential superintendent between his closed teeth. "Poor fellow! poor dear Michael!" exclaimed the woman, soothingly. " It was hard to go to sleep without kissing mother, wasn't it?" " Yes, I didn't like that nor I didn't like being without Teddy neither and I didn't like the grumpy old lady as corned into the kitchen, and abused me ; nor the gentlemen servants either, except the gardener, and he took hold of my hand, and led me along kind enough and I like Molly too, that's she as give me my supper and my bed, and my breakfast this morning, mother. Oh, mother ! how I did long to bring away some of the milk and bread and butter home with me !" " Never think of such a thing, for your life, boy !" exclaimed the mother eagerly. " It would be thieving, nothing else, Michael nothing more nor less than thieving never mention that again to me, dear, that's a darling." " I won't, mother ; but I know I shall think of it every time I see them big pounds of butter, and jugs of milk, and minds how care- ful you be over your little scrimped bit in the broken saucer, and how you drinks your drop of tea without ever having any milk at all." " Never you mind that, darling. But what are they going to do with you, Mike ? And what for do they want to have you up at the great house? 'Tis a mystery to me, and thankful as we ought to be for any help, I can't say but I should be easier in my mind, if I understood something about it." " Impertinent hag !" growled the surly Parsons from his lair. " Does she think they are going to trap him like a rabbit, for the sake of his skin ?" " But, mother, I don't understand any thing about it myself," said Michael, rather dolefully. To this avowal, no reply was made for some minutes ; upon which the superintendent grew impatient, and stretching forward his neck a little, contrived athwart the sheltering branches of an elder-bush, to peep through the broken window. To the agent of Sir Matthew Dowling's benevolence the sight that presented itself was really revolting ; though there may be others vvho would have been affected differently by it. Michael had flung himself across the bed ; his arms were thrown round his mother, who was sitting upright with some piece of needlework in her hands, OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 39 and his dark curls set off in strong contrast the extreme paleness of the face that looked down upon him. The widow Armstrong was still rather a young woman, and would still have been a very lovely one, had not sickness and poor living sharpened the delicate fea- tures, and destroyed the oval outline that nature had made perfect. Yet she had quite enough of beauty left to detain the eye ; and such a history of patient suffering might be read in every line of her speaking countenance, that few ever looked upon her harshly. Spite of her extreme poverty too, she was clean her cap was clean, the bedclothes were clean, and the pale hands too, looked so very white, that if Mr. Parsons from his hiding-place had ventured to speak any opinion concerning her, he would certainly' t have given utter- ance to a strong expression of indignation, at the abominable air of delicacy which her appearance displayed. She looked as if she were struggling with some painful feeling, but did not weep, though her boy did, heartily. For a little while she suffered his tears to flow without interrup- tion or reproof, and then she kissed him once, twice, thrice. " There now, Michael," she said, looking at him fondly ; " have you not played baby long enough ? Stand up, darling, and listen to me. You don't seem over-glad, Mike, of this great change, and if you did, perhaps I might have been over-sorry ; but sorrow would be sin for either of us, when God has sent us help. Tis you that be the heartiest Mike, and 'tis you that want food the most, growing at the rate you do, and heart-sore have I been at meal- times to see you so stinted. So never let us trouble ourselves any more about the reasons for your getting so into favour, but just thank God, and be contented." " But mother ! How will you get on without me ?" replied Michael, shaking his head ; " I am sure that Teddy can't make your bed as I do he hasn't the strength in his arms. And who's to fetch water ? 'Deed and 'deed mother, you'd better thank Sir Matthew, and say no, unless he'll just please to let Teddy go instead." " That won't do my dear child, in any way. 'Tis I must watch poor Edward. Little as I can do for him, I don't think he'd like to part from me, as long as God is pleased to let me stay." " That's true mother that's very true ! Teddy would break his heart. No, no, 'tisn't he shall be parted from you ; I'll show him how to make the bed, if I can't come over myself; but perhaps they'll let me, mother ?" " What's the business that you'll have to do, Michael?" inquired the widow. " I haven't been told of any business yet," replied the boy. " But you don't expect that you're going to be kept for nothing, dear ?" said the mother, smiling. " 'Tisn't for my work, mother ; 'tis for the cow," replied Michael, gravely. u The cow, child ? What is it you and Teddy have got into your heads about a cow ? A poor starved beast, he says it was, that 40 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES wouldn't have frightened a mouse, and you made it turn round, Mike that's all I can make out. But he must be mistaken surely. What was it you did about the cow, darling?" At this question, the boy burst into a hearty fit of laughter, which to say truth, offended the listening ears of Mr. Joseph Par- sons, still more than his weeping had done. " I'll do his business for him, he may depend upon it," thought he. " If master must have a charity job, he must ; but it don't fol- low that the cretur shan't be made to know himself just as well as if he was in the factory. I'll be your overlooker yet, master Mike." Just as this prophetic sketching of the future had made itself distinctly visible to his mind's eye, the bodily senses of the agent announced to him that the tranquil tete-a-tete within the widow's chamber was disturbed by the entrance of persons, whose voice and step announced that they were men. Mr. Parsons was at no loss to guess their errand. "Here they come !" muttered he. "Now we'll see how Master Butchel manages his job. " We be commed to see," said a gruff voice within the widow's chamber, " whether or no you be commed to your senses, Mrs. Armstrong." " Sir?" said the trembling woman in return. " You knows well enough what I means, without my going into it again ; you knows well enough as I comes to talk to ye about the house again. We've had Larkins the baker, coming to inquire if there's parish pay to look to, for your bill, Mrs. Armstrong and I have told him, NO, not a farthing, not the quarter of a farthing, unless you'll come into the house. The parish have gone on allow- ing you two shilling a week, week after week, God knows how long 'tis a perfect shame and imposition, and the board says they won't do it no longer. You and the boys too may come in if you will, that's one thing ; but living here, cramming 'em with as ranch wheaten bread as they'll eat without paying for it, is another, and it's what no honest parish don't tolerate. I'll be bound to say now, as you have brought up the scamps without their ever knowing the taste of gruel ? Tell the truth, did you ever take the trouble to make a drop of gruel for 'em?" " As long as I had my legs to stand upon, sir, I never minded trouble ; and, when my husband was living, we did a deal better, and 1 have done cooking for 'em then, such as a few potatoes and a cabbage, may be, with a scrap of bacon on a Sunday ; but, from the hour he died, we have never had a pot upon the fire." " That's what 'tis to be so obstinate. If you'd come into the house you'd see the pot upon the fire all day long, a'most." " But the children would be in one room, after they came from the factory, and I should be in another," pleaded the widow, " and I've got a few of the decent things as I married with, when I came from service, and it would be a grief tome to see 'em all sold." "If the parish don't sell 'em, Larkins the baker will, you may take my word for that, Mrs. Armstrong," replied the overseer. " However, 'tis your business, not mine. Here's a decent, respect- OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 41 able man, as is ready to take all you've got at a valiation, fair and honourable, but that's just as you please. I only called, as in duty bound, to tell ye that the parish don't mean to continy no such ex- travagance as paying you two shilling a week, no longer." " God help me !" answered the widow gently. " If 'tis his will that so it should be, it would be a sin for me to complain." "That's vastly fine, beant it?" said the brutal Butchel, "and now let's hear what you'll be after saying to Master Larkins, for here he comes, as sure as eggs be eggs." An abrupt, and most peremptory demand, for three pounds two shillings and seven pence, was here made, by a sour-looking little man, who entered the small room without ceremony, making a group of intruders round the widows bed, equally unwonted and unwelcome. Ker over-taxed courage seemed to fail, for it was with something like a sob that she replied to his demand by saying, " I shall have twelve shillings to take for needlework, when this is done, and you shall have it every farthing sir, if you'll be so merciful." " And who's to pay your rent, Missis Armstrong ? if I may be so bold," said Mr. Butchel. The widow had not a word to say for herself, and, covering her face with her hands, wept bitterly. " Now's my time !" said Parsons to himself, as he stealthily crept from his hiding-place. " Now for Sir Matthew's benevolence." And, in a minute afterwards, his tall, gaunt figure, and hard counte- nance, were added to the company. The noise he made in entering, caused the widow to uncover her eyes, and it was with an emotion little short of terror that she recognised the tyrant, at whose name her children's cheeks grew pale. Instinctively she stretched out her hand, and took hold of that of Michael, who was still seated on the side of the bed. But the boy shook it off, as if his mother's love was a secret treasure that the overlooker must not see, and, suddenly standing up, he remained, with his eyes fixed on the ground, and his hands hanging by his sides, as if petrified. " Hollo ! why what's the matter now ? Is all the parish come to wish joy to this good woman hejre ?" said the overlooker, with as jocund an air as he could persuade his iron features to assume. " Wish her joy ?" responded the well-tutored parish-officer, " and for what, Mr. Parsons, if you please? For having an honest tradesman come upon her with the gripe of the law, in hopes to get what's his own? She's got into trouble, I promise you, and I don't very well see how she's to get out of it." " You don't say so?" said the confidential agent. "What! is' that you, Mr. Larkins, coming to take the law of a poor body this way? I didn't think you was so hard-hearted." " I don't deserve that character, sir," replied the baker sharply; for though desired to call and enforce his claim by the parish overseer, Mr. Larkins knew not a word about Sir Matthew's scheme of benevolence; " and the proof lhat my heart isn't harder than other people's" he continued, " is, that I gave the widow here 42 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES credit for what has been, excepting a few ounces of tea, her whole and sole living for months past." " And very kind of ye too," observed the conciliating superin- tendent. " I should like to know, then, what became of all the money the two boys got, besides her own needlework, and, of late, two shilling a week from the parish, beside?*' observed Mr. Butchel. " Why, that is rather puzzling, I must say," replied Mr. Parsons, " but no matter for that, no matter for that, just now. This family have got a kind friend, I promise you." " Yes, but it does matter," returned Larkins. " It can't be right, no how, for me to be out of three pounds two shillings and seven pence, and she with such lots of money." " Indeed, indeed, sir!" said the widow, once more looking up at him, " I have done my very best, paying a little and a little at a time, as you know I never stopped doing, only for two weeks that my biggest that is my oldest boy, was making up time that was lost, when he was home sick, and so got no wages. But the seven shillings a week that they get between 'em, and my uncertain bit of needle-work, gentlemen, can't stand for food, and clothes, and rent' and a little soap to keep us decent, and a bit of firing to boil a drop of water it can't do all that, gentlemen, without getting behindhand, when any making up time comes in the factory." " Well then, that's just the reason why you must come into the house," replied Butchel ; " and, at any rate, you may depend upon getting no more money out of it." Upon hearing these words, " the decent, respectable man," who was willing to take the widow's goods, at a " valiation fair and honourable," began examining the condition of a chair that stood near him ; an operation which the widow eyed with the most^piteous look imaginable. " Come into the house, I tell you, without more ado," resumed Butchel. " And what, in God's name, d'ye think we want you in for but your own good ? D'ye think the parish have a fancy for main- taining crippled women and children, by way of a pleasure ? Tis ruination any way ; but when you're in, we know the worst of it at once, and that's something. The boys' wages will go a bit to help, and at any rate there'll be no two shillings to pay, which is what the overseers hates above all things ; and what they won't continy to do. So now I have said my say." And here Mr. Butchel began to move his heavy person towards the door. "Stop a minute, Mr. Butchel, if you please sir," ejaculated Sir Matthew's superintendent. " I should be sorry to let you go back to your employers under any delusion or mistake whatever, and the fact is, that this good woman, the widow Armstrong, is no more likely to go into the workhouse than you are yourself, Mr. Butchel ; begging your pardon for naming such a thing." OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 43 " Then I suppose as it's yourself as means to keep her out of it, Mr. Parsons?" replied the parish officer jocosely. " Not exactly me, myself," replied the other iu the same tone, " but it's one as much more able as he is willing. It is Sir Matthew Bowling as intends to befriend her, and that not only on account of the general charitableness of his temper, which all who know him really well are quite aware is very great, but because that little boy as stands there, and who is one of our factory children, saved a friend of Lady Bowling's, last night, from something she looked upon to be a considerable danger." " And does Sir Matthew mean to see me paid ?" demanded the baker. " Upon my word, Mr. Larkin, that's more than what I've got authority to say," replied Parsons; "but, howsomever, I don't think that you had best go on, just at this particular minute, to persecute about it, seeing that in course Sir Matthew won't take it civil, when he's being such a friend himself to the widow." "I don't want to do nothing uncivil to nobody," replied the baker, " but I don't quite understand this business. It is some- thing new, isn't it, Sir Matthew setting up for a soft-hearted gentle- man, among the factory folks ?" "New to you, may be, Mr. Larkin, but not to me," replied the trustworthy agent. " There isn't another to be found, look which way you will, that can be compared with Sir Matthew Bowling, for real, true, benevolent, charitableness, when he finds proper objects for it." The baker stared ; the man of old chairs and tables scratched his puzzled head ; the intelligent Mr. Butchel looked at the speaker with a knowing wink; the widow fixed her eyes upon her patchwork quilt ; and little Michael in astonishment, which conquered terror, raised his eyes to the superintendent's face, while that worthy advo- cate of a master's virtues stood firmly, striking his stout cane upon the ground, with the air of a man ready to do battle with all the world in support of what he has asserted. "Well then, at any rate my business is done and ended," said Mr. Butchel moving off, " and I wish you joy Mussiss Armstrong of your unaccountable good fortune." " Come along, Jim !" said the baker to the respectable dealer in seized goods, " there's nothing to be done to-day, that's clear. But I hope you'll remember the twelve shillings as you've promised me, Mrs. Armstrong." "I will indeed, sir !" answered the widow earnestly; and, on receiving this assurance, Mr. Larkin took his departure with his professional friend, leaving Mr. Joseph Parsons, the widow Arm- strong, and her son Michael to carry on whatever conversation they might wish for, without interruption. " Well now, if I t ain't glad they're gone, them fellows," said the superintendent shutting the door after_them. " You are a favoured woman, Mrs. Armstrong, to get rid of 'em as you have 44 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES done, and I don't and won't, question that you are thankful to those to whom thanks are due." " I always wish to be so, sir," said the widow. " Well, there's no hardship in that I suppose. But about this son of yours, this young Master Michael, you must see to his doing his duty to his benefactor. If he was to prove ungrateful, Mrs. Armstrong, it is but fair to tell you that I wouldn't undertake to answer for the consequences." " God forbid he ever should be ungrateful to any as was kind to him !" replied the poor woman ; " but indeed, sir, I don't think it is in his heart to be so. Since the day he was born, God bless him, I.have had little besides love to give him, and indeed, sir, I think the child would die for me." Michael slily stole his little hand sideways under the bed- clothes, where it was soon clasped in that of his mother, but his eyes were again firmly rivetted upon the ground. "Ay, ay, that's all very well; but it has nothing to do in any way with his duty and obligations to Sir Matthew. What I want to know is, whether he is ready and willing to do that which Sir Matthew will require of him that's the main question, you see, Mrs. Armstrong." " And what will that be, sir ?" said the widow, while Michael's eyes were again raised for a moment to the face of his taskmaster. " He is to be made a gentleman of that's to be the first work put upon him." The poor woman smiled ; but little Michael shook his head. The superintendent appeared to pay no attention to either ; but again striking his cane magisterially upon the ground, he added, " Let him make up his mind to do all that he's bid, and come back to Bowling Lodge with as little delay as possible." With these words, and without deigning to bestow any species of parting salutation upon those to whom they were addressed, Mr. Parsons left the room. CHAPTER V. A SEPARATION OF LOVING HEARTS A SPECIMEN OF FINISHED COMPOSITION CONDESCENSION AND GENEROSITY SIR MATTHEW CLOTHES LITTLE MICHAEL WITH HIS OWN HANDS. WHILE the superintendent, in his serpentine course homeward, scattered the tidings of his master's munificence towards the factory- boy, Michael Armstrong and his mother indulged themselves in a few parting words and very tender caresses ; the mother continuing to repeat at intervals, " Be sure, darling, to be a good boy, and do what you're bid," while the son reiterated his entreaties that she OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 45 and Teddy would take care one of t'other, and have him back again, spite of every thing, if they found that they could not do so well without him. But even while this went on, Michael was improving his toilet by putting. on the more carefully patched garments, which had hitherto been kept sacred for Sundays. When this operation was completed, and his hair, face, and hands made as clean as the joint efforts of himself and his mother could contrive to make them, the little boy turned to leave the miserable shed that had been his home, with a re- luctant step and heavy heart, retracing the short distance between his mother's bed and the door, once and again to take another kiss, and to repeat, with increased earnestness, the questions, " Isn't there nothing more I can do for you, mother, before I go away? and will you be sure to tell Teddy to stop for me, morning- and night, at the gate in the lane, where it all happened ? will you mother?" But at length the lingering separation was completed, and Michael set off upon his return to Bowling Lodge. In the mean time, Sir Matthew himself had not been idle : but, retiring to his study, he composed a paragraph for the county newspaper, which, after considerable study and repeated corrections, was at length completed, and despatched by the post, in a feigned hand, the wax being stamped with the handle of the seal instead of his arms, and the postage paid. The paragraph ran thus : " ENGLISH BENEVOLENCE. "There is, perhaps, no class of men so cruelly misrepresented as the manufacturers of Great Britain ; surrounded on all sides by a population of labourers, crowded together exactly in proportion to the quantity of work the neighbouring factories are able to fur- nish they are continually reproached both with giving too many hours of employment to their poor neighbours on the one hand, and with the poverty which is the inevitable lot of operatives with large families on the other. " That all manufacturers, however, are not the cruel mercenary tyrants they are so often, and so unjustly described to be, was shown within the last few days by an incident which occurred near the town of Ashleigh, not a hundred miles from D 1 g L d e. The owner of that splendid mansion, while escorting the amiable Lady round his grounds, had occasion to remark some symptoms of a very noble disposition in one of the children be- longing to a neighbouring factory on his estate. On making in- quiries, he discovered him to be the son of a poor widow, whose failing health made her, and her orphan children peculiarly eligible as objects of charity. This fact having been satisfactorily ascer- tained, Sir M th w D 1 g gave way to the warm impulses of his generous heart, and adopting the little orphan among his own children, at once gratified the gentle feelings of his amiable nature, and set them an example which it is impossible they should ever forget. It is more easy for the recorder of this charming anecdote 46 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES to relate thus the principal circumstances of it, than to enter into any detail of the numberless delicate traits of character exhibited by Sir M. D 1 g in the course of the transaction. Those who know him thoroughly, will, however, be at no loss how to supply these ; and those who do not, would scarcely understand the de- scription, were it given with all the detail possible." The value and the accuracy of the statements contained in this announcement, belonged wholly to the author of it ; the phraseo- logy to a private MS. digest of newspaper eloquence, the result of many years of steady research, during which no morsel of fine writ- ing that might assist in such occasional addresses to the public as the present, had been ever suffered to flow down the stream of time, and perish, without having been first carefully noted in the knight's repertory of fine periods. Having concluded this business, Sir Matthew Dowling rang his bell. As it was only the study-bell, it was answered, as usual, by one of the housemaids. " Where is the little boy, my dear, that I sent into the servants' hall last night ?" inquired Sir Matthew. " Upon my word, Sir Matthew, I can't tell," she replied ; adding, in that tone of familiar confidence which her master's condescension encouraged, "but if you sent him into the hall, Sir Matthew, he never got there, nor never will, you may take my word for that, as long as Madam Thompson reigns." The housemaid was not a beauty none such, as was before stated, ever made part of Lady Dowling's household; but she was a wit, and Sir Matthew was too clever himself not to feel the value of cleverness in others ; he, therefore, raised his eyebrows in a comic grimace, very good-humouredly chucked the maid under her ugly chin, and instead of putting himself in a rage, as might have happened under other circumstances, he only said, " And how was that my dear? Come, tell me all about it I like your stories, Peggy, they are always so funny." " Whose stories wouldn't he funny, Sir Matthew, if they told of the airs and graces of Mother Thompson !" replied the lively dam- sel; "she's for all the world like an old owl, as sits winking his eyes and trying to look wise." " But she's a prime favourite with my lady, Peggy, and into the bargain, knows a thing or two about soups and hashes; so we must be very respectful, my dear, in talking of her but as to her daring to say, that the boy I ordered into the hall was to be turned out of it, that's rather more than possible, I think." " That's because you don't know Mrs. Thompson, Sir Matthew. I only wish you had heard and seen 'em last night, she, and the butler, and Mrs. Fine Airs, my lady's maid, and Mr. Fine Airs, my lady's footman ! If it was not enough to make one sick, I wish I may never see you again, Sir Matthew." " They are a confounded impertinent set of rubbish," replied Sir Matthew ; but still without losing his good humour. " How- OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 47 ever, all people of fashion, that is, rich people, Peggy, always do have a confounded impertinent set of servants about 'em. That's one of the great differences between high people and low." "To be sure you must know best, Sir Matthew," replied the saucy grisette, but with a look and accent somewhat ironical. " I don't mean to doubt that in the least, I'm sure ; but in the places I've lived at Lord Wilmot's, Lord Crampton's, and such like, I never did hear of my lord's commands being treated in that fashion. They might have their jokes in the hall, and the housekeeper's room too, no doubt of it, and impudent enough if you like it ; but for downright flat disobedience, I never did hear of such a thing." Sir Matthew on hearing this, became rather white about the lips, and red about the forehead ; but Peggy knew the rising storm was not at all likely to fall on her, so nothing daunted, she went on. " I don't think I should have taken much notice about it, Sir Matthew, if it hadn't been for not liking to see you treated with dis- respect ; for I'm not over and above partial to beggar children my- self; but that sort of natural dislike was nothing in comparison to my feelings about you, sir : and if I had been placed in power, in- stead of having none, your will would have been obeyed, if every servant in the house had flowed at me for it." " You're an excellent girl, Peggy," replied the knight, approach- ing her very condescendingly. " You know well enough that you are a favourite, and I know well enough, my dear, that you deserve to be so ; and I tell you what, Peggy, I'll take care to let those animals, my servants, know that I am master here, as well as in the factory and that my word's law !" " And so it ought to be, Sir Matthew," replied the obedient do- mestic. " I hope I know my duty too well to dispute my master's will in any thing ;" and as she spoke she very meekly yielded her- self to receive the condescending salute, with which Sir Matthew was pleased to reward her excellent sentiments. " You are an excellent good girl, Peggy !" he resumed after this little interruption ; " and don't fear but I shall find means to reward you. But you must give me your help, my dear, to confound the impertinence of these fellow-servants of yours ; if I don't make 'em wait upon that beggar's brat as if he was their lord and master, never trust me with a kiss more. Where is the little factory vermin, Peggy?" " I ain't able to answer you, Sir Matthew ; all I know is, that Mrs. Thompson marched us all out of the kitchen where she sat in judgment on him, last night, and there he was left with the kitchen- maid and the fat cook ; but what's come of him since, I am no ways able to say." On hearing this, Sir Matthew raised his hand towards the bell, but suddenly recollecting himself, he smiled and said, " No, no, that won't do, Peggy, will it ? Go, my dear, and ask where the boy is, and then come back and tell me." The damsel, in return, furtively smiled too, in acquiescence and 48 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES approval of his discretion ; and upon leaving his study for the pur- pose of prosecuting her inquiries among the servants, she encoun- tered the object of them, as he entered the back-door, on his return from visiting his mother's cottage. " Soh ! here you are then? Well, you must come along this mi- nute to Sir Matthew,'* said she, addressing him somewhat gruffly, and not too well pleased, perhaps, at this interruption to the confi- dential conversation with her master, which it had been her purpose to renew. But to the ears of Michael, the name of Sir Matthew was sufficient to render all other words indifferent ; and conscious only, that into his dreaded presence he must go if commanded to do so, he followed the girl with a beating heart, and in a few minutes stood pale, and almost breathless, before the awful countenance of the great man. Sir Matthew gazed at him for a moment with a sort of sneer, which, if interpreted skilfully, would have been found to address itself inwardly. Sir Matthew could not choose but sneer at the whim- sical arrangements of accidents, which had converted him into a Mr. Allworthy. The sneer, however, as far as it concerned himself, had no mixture of contempt in it. " Had another done this thing," thought he, " should I not have called him fool ? and is it not ninety-nine chances to a hundred, that thereby I should have de- scribed him truly ? May the same be said of me ? No ! By the living God, it may not! How now, little boy? you have made yourself smart, I see vastly fine, indeed ! An inch of clean dow- las, a piece of span-new green baize for a patch, a pair of bony legs without stockings, and magnificent shoes I did not say a pair, Peggy but very magnificent shoes ; one I suppose won in battle from a giant, and the other from a dwarf. Fine as "a prince ! isn't he, Peggy ?" As he thus jeered the little fellow, his eye wandered with malig- nant jocularity over his person, which was, in truth, the very model of make-shift poverty ; while the child, as if he felt his eye palpably crawl like a reptile over him, shuddered he knew not why. Then, changing his tone so suddenly, as to make even the con- fiding Peggy start, he continued, " You horrid lump of rags stand back stand back! back! back! behind that high chair d'ye hear ? Stand close and stand still if he does not make me as sick as a dog, Peggy, let me never smell musk more !" " He does smell horrid bad to be sure, Sir Matthew !" replied the girl. " Hadn't I better take him back to Molly the kitchen- maid, and make her scour him ?" " No, hang him that won't take it out of him I know 'em all. No, Peggy, let the scouring alone, and just go up stairs to the nursery-maids, and tell them to send me down a good hand- some suit of clothes, complete, of Master Duodecimus's he is the nearest in size to this scaramouch; and I will dress him, Peggy, as if he were the son of a duke. It will be fun, capital fun, and will it not be generous, Peggy ?" "Generous, Sir Matthew? It will be past all belief! What? OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 49 Him to be dressed up in the clothes of Master Duodecimus ? oh, my ! Sir Matthew, you must sure-ly be joking." " I'm as serious as an undertaker, girl. Get along with you, and do what I bid you the longer you're about it, mind, the longer I shall have to sit in the same room with the ragamuffin in his own full dress so make haste, if you please." This was said in a manner to remove all doubts as to the munifi- cent knight's being in earnest ; and the active Peggy went and returned with as little delay as was consistent with the necessity she felt herself under, of entering into some short explanation with the nursery ladies ; one and all of whom seemed much inclined, on the first opening of her mission, to treat the whole business as a hoax. When at length, however, she had succeeded in making it apparent that Sir Matthew was waiting for the suit of clothes in a most monstrous outrageous passion of a hurry, the messenger's arms were speedily loaded in exact conformity to the orders she had brought, and she returned to the knight's study with all that was needful to convert the rude exterior of little Michael into the nearest resemblance that nature would permit, to the elegant and accomplished Master Duodecimus. Considering the loathing and disgust manifested by Sir Matthew towards the person and the poverty of his protege, it was extraor- dinary to see the amusement he seemed to derive from dressing him up. Though the alert and obedient Peggy stood close by to do his pleasure, it was his own large hands that thrust the little limbs of Michael into the clothing he chose they should wear, and it was amidst shouts of laughter from both, that the ludicrous metamor- phosis was completed. But somehow or other when they had finished their masquerading work, the result was not altogether what Sir Matthew anticipated. The clothes were very handsome, well-made clothes, and as poor Michael, notwithstanding his leanness, was a very handsome, well- made boy, the incongruity between them seemed to vanish in the most unaccountable manner, as the operation drew towards a con- clusion. Peggy, however, was not such a fool as not to understand what was expected of her ; so when the knight, catching up his son's tas- selled cap, pressed it down upon the little curly head as a lusty packer of worthless goods thrusts down the cover that is to enclose them, and then pushed the child towards her with an impulse that nearly brought him upon his nose, she very judiciously renewed her noisy laughter, exclaiming, " Did any one ever see such a little quiz !" " Quiz, girl ?" replied Sir Matthew, eyeing him with no very fond expression. " It would be well for the scamp if that was the worst you could say of him I know a thing or two Peggy, and that boy will be lucky if he gets drowned. I'll bet a hundred guineas that with a few lessons, he would forge any writing you could show him ; and before he is twenty, he will have taken as many shapes as Turpin. That boy was born with a halter round his neck, 1 want no gipsy to tell me that." 50 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES During the whole of the undressing and redressing operations, the boy's cheeks had been dyed with blushes, and his eyes so fixedly nailed to the floor, that neither Sir Matthew nor his maid had been able to enjoy their embarrassed expression; but as this dark pro- phecy fell on him, he looked up, and it was well for him that his munificent patron at the same instant turned his mocking glances towards the servant, as he said, "There gather up his rags, girl, and be sure you wash well after it ;" for, had he met that speaking young eye, he could hardly have misunderstood the scorn that shot from it. As it was, however, he saw nothing but the patched gar- ments that were scattered round, and once more sneering as he looked at them, he added, " Lead the little blackguard through the servants'-hall, and into Mrs. Thompson's parlour d'ye hear, Peggy, up to her very nose, and tell her that I have sent him to pay her a visit, and when she has had enough of the compliment, lead, him round to Mademoiselle's room, and we'll have a little fun among the children." By no means displeased with an errand which permitted her to affront with impunity the autocrat of all the offices, Peggy gathered together Michael's discarded wardrobe and then clutching hold of his hand, led him, bongre malgre, to the presence of the imperious housekeeper. Mrs. Willis, my Lady Bowling's own maid, and Mr. Jennings, my Lady Bowling's own man, were enjoying with that important functionary a slight morning repast of fruit, cakes, and wine, and at the moment Peggy and her charge entered, they were enjoying some very excellent jokes together. But, Mr. Jennings no sooner cast his eyes on the little factory-boy, than he arose, looking rather abashed at being caught by a drawing-room guest of even nine years old, with a glass of claret in one hand, and a slice of pine- apple in the other. Peggy, to whom the conciliatory smiles of this gay gentleman did not descend, enjoyed his mystification exceedingly ; and relaxing her rough hold of Michael's wrist, she led him respectfully towards the table saying, " My master has sent this young gentleman to pay you a visit, Mrs. Thompson ; perhaps he would like a little fruit. There, my dear, that's the housekeeper Sir Matthew told you of, and if you will please to go and sit down by her, I dare say she will give you something nice." Mr. Jennings immediately placed a chair beside the gracious Mrs. Thompson, who, after filling and setting before the young gentleman a plate with whatever she supposed would be most agreeable, said in a half whisper to his conductor, " Who is it, Peggy ? I didn't hear never a carriage." Before she could, or at least before she would answer, Michael, who had not accepted the chair offered to him, took his cap from his head, and with considerably more courage than he had yet shown said, " [ am Michael Armstrong, the factory-boy." "Who! What?" screamed the housekeeper ; " what bold joke is this, Mrs. Peggy Perkins ? Bo you think you have got a patent for your place, that you dare play such tricks as this ?" OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 51 " If I keeps my place, I don't think I shall have to thank you for it, ma'am," replied the favoured housemaid, with very little civility. " My master ordered me to bring the boy to pay you a visit ; those was his very words, Mrs. Thompson, and as I was bid, so I have done." " There's some people as will do every thing and any thing they are bid," observed Mrs. Willis, again drawing out her favourite smelling-bottle, while with the other hand she extended a wine-glass to Mr, Jennings, for a little Madeira, which she felt was absolutely necessary to support her in this very disagreeable emergency. " Master, or no master, Sir Matthew Dowling doesn't know how to behave himself it's I says it, and I don't care who repeats it to him." Mr. Jennings stared at the factory-boy for a full minute very attentively, and then gave a long low whistle, at the same time turning his eyes with a look of much intelligence full in the face of the housekeeper. " He isn't at all like any of 'em, Mrs. Thompson," said he. Mrs. Thompson shook her head. " There is nothing at all in that, Mr. Jennings, I'm sorry to say. But remember I do desire, and insist, that the subject is never alluded to in my presence again. When I lived with his grace, I always made it a rule that none of the household should ever discourse in my presence of any thing that it was not decent to hear." " Well, ma'am," said Peggy; "when you have done looking at him, he is to go into Momsell's room for the children to see him." The housekeeper, the lady's-maid, and the footman, all simulta- neously lifted up their hands and eyes to heaven. " Please to let me put oil my old clothes and go home," said Michael. " You little ungrateful wretch !" exclaimed Peggy ; " when Sir Matthew dressed you up himself with his own hands. What d'ye mean by that, you bad boy?" " They'll laugh at me," said Michael, resolutely ; "and I don't like it."* " You don't? Isn't that a good one ?" said Mr. Jennings, clap- ping his hands in ecstasy. " Oh, Lord ! pray let us have him back again, Mrs. Peggy, that is to say if Sir Matthew can bear to part with him. He's the finest fun I've got sight of this many a day." " You must find fun for yourself, Mr. Jennings, for I shan't be at the trouble of bringing you none," replied the self-satisfied Peggy, again seizing the hand of Michael, and leading him off. : ' Well, for a broom-maid, I hope she's saucy enough," said Mr. Jennings ; but the subject of his remark was already beyond hear- ing, threading her way through the long stone passages which con- ducted to the opposite wing of the mansion, the whole of which was appropriated to the younger branches of the Dowling family. E2 52 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES CHAPTER VI. MICHAEL'S INTRODUCTION TO ALL, THE MISS DOWLINGS SIR MATTHEW FEEDS HIM WITH HIS OWN HAND, AND PRESENTS HIM TO ALL HIS MOST VALUED FRIENDS. HAVING given a sharp rap on the door, Peggy was told to " corn een," by the voice of Mademoiselle Beaujoie; whereupon she threw the door wide open before her, and stood with Michael Armstrong in her hand, in the presence of three grown-up Miss Bowlings, three middle-sized Miss Bowlings, two little Miss Bowlings, and their French governess. The five youngest, all rushed as by one accord towards Michael. " What a pretty little boy !" was exclaimed by two or three of them. " Are you come to play with us ? Mayn't we have a holi- day, Ma'mselle ?" " What an elegant-looking creature !" exclaimed the eldest Miss Bowling, who with her two grown-up sisters, had come into the room for the advantage of practising duets on a venerable pianoforte totally out of tune, and whose loudest note could by no means compete with the shrill accents of the animated group who inha- bited the apartment. "Bid you ever see a prettier boy, Harriet?" " Who is he, I wonder?" replied the young lady she addressed. " How he blushes !" said the governess, tittering. "What's your name, dear?" demanded Miss Martha, the third daughter of the Bowling race. " Michael Armstrong, ma'am," replied the boy, looking up with an air of surprise, for Miss Martha, queer-looking as she was, spoke kindly. And queer-looking as she was, Michael met her eye with pleasure, for that too spoke kindly, though it was neither large nor bright. Martha Bowling was in truth, about as ugly as it was possible for a girl of seventeen to be, who was neither deformed nor marked by the smallpox, short, fat, snub-nosed, red-faced, with a quantity of sandy hair, that, if not red, looked very much as if it intended to be so ; eyes of a light, very light gray, and without any thing whatever in external appearance to recommend her, except a smooth, plump, neck and shoulders, with hands and arms to match, which, in truth, were very fair and nice-looking, and a set of well- formed, stout white teeth. What made the unlucky appearance of this young lady the more remarkable, was the contrast it presented to the rest of her family. All the other young people were, like both their parents, " more than common tall," for their respective ages, and, like most other tall young people, rather thin, so that Lady Bowling was apt to indulge herself by declaring that, " though certainly some of her children might be considered prettier than the rest, there was not 3 OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 53 one of the whole set (except that poor vulgar Martha), who was not most particular genteel-looking." " Genteel looking" she certainly was not, nor graceful, nor beautiful in any way ; and the consequence was, that father, mo- ther, brothers, and sisters, were all most heartily ashamed of her. This was a misfortune, and she felt it to be so pretty sharply, for poor vulgar Martha was far from being a stupid girl. But, in her case, as in a million of others, it might be seen that adversity, though " Like tlie toad, ugly and venomous, VVeareth a precious jewel in its head." for of all her race she was the only one whose heart was not seared and hardened by the ceaseless operation of opulent self-indul- gence. She felt that she was rather an object of pity than of admi- ration, of contempt than of envy, of dislike than of love. This is severe schooling for a young girl's heart, but if it produce not reckless indifference, or callous insensibility, it often purifies, softens, and even elevates the character. Such were its effects on Martha Bowling : that coarse-seeming exterior contained the only spark of refinement of which the Dowling family could boast. Never did a high-born Hidalgo, in Spain's proudest days, inculcate among his race the immeasurable importance of pure descent, with more ceaseless or more sedulous earnestness, than did Sir Matthew, the omnipotence of wealth among his. Every child was taught, as soon as its mind became capable of receiving the important truth, that not only was it agreeable to enjoy and cherish all the good things which wealth can procure, but that it was their bounden and special duty to make it visible before the eyes of all men that they could, and that they did, have more money spent upon them, than any other family in the whole country ; but Martha felt that all this could not apply to her. Strange to say, the only tie resembling affection which prevented the total isolation of this poor girl among her family, was that which existed between her hard-natured father and herself; but it was a sentiment not easy to analyze. In Sir Matthew it pro- bably arose at first from his having been told that the little girl was very like him ; and, on hers, from his being the only person in the house who had ever bestowed a caress upon her. In both cases, cause and effect went on increasing. Martha's face (saving its ex- pression), was incontrovertibly like her father's ; and, for that rea- son, or from the habit it had at first created, her father, though rather ashamed to confess it, was certainly very fond of her. That, as a child, she should love him in return, was almost in- evitable ; but that, as she advanced in years, she should feel for the being, the most completely formed by nature to be hateful to her, an affection the most unchanging and devoted, had something of mystery in it less easy to be explained. Yet, so it was. Martha Dowling adored her hard-hearted, vicious, unprincipled, illiterate, vulgar father, as heartily as if he had been the model of every thing she most admired and approved. Nay, it may be, that she loved him 54 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES better, or, at any rate, more strongly still ; for it was rather with fanaticism than devotion, or like the pitying fondness with which a mother dotes on a deformed child, who sees only that because it is less loveable it has more need of love than the rest. It was not, however, on the same principle, that Sir Matthew's affection for his ugly daughter increased as years rolled on ; for he saw, that though as a child she had been like him, she was now grown very plain : and, in company, he felt almost as much ashamed of her, as Lady Bowling herself. But he could not mis- take her love and true affection, nor resist the charm of feeling that at least there was one being in existence, who would have che- rished him, even if he had not been the great man he was. In private he scrupled not to yield to this feeling, and certainly derived considerable pleasure from it ; but before witnesses, he always joined in the family tone respecting " poor Martha," and scrupled not to push her on one side, upon all occasions on which any display of Bowling elegance was contemplated. It was this ugly Martha Bowling who now startled little Michael with her voice of kindness, and, notwithstanding all her lady mother said about the " horrid vulgarity of her manners," poor Martha had a sweet and gentle voice. The child looked up at her, and with the weakness that appeared constitutionally peculiar to him, his eyes were immediately filled with tears. Yet Michael was not a whimpering boy either ; many had seen him harshly treated, for he had worked almost from babyhood in the cotton-factory, but nobody had ever seen him cry under it. But if his mother, or his poor sickly brother, touched his little heart, either with joy or tenderness, he would weep and laugh both, with very infantine susceptibility. So it was with him now, for when Martha added with a good-humoured smile, "And what brings you here, Master Armstrong?" he laughed outright as he replied, " Indeed, ma'am, I ain't Master Armstrong, and I don't know a bit what I be here for." This speech, though addressed to Martha, being heard by all, the contrast between his appearance and his language considerably ex- cited the curiosity of the two eldest Miss Bowlings. " La ! how he talks ! I thought he was a gentleman by his jacket, didn't you, Arabella?" said Miss Harriet. " Yes to be sure I did," replied the eldest sister. " But I am sure he is not, with that horrid way of speaking, what did you bring him here for Peggy ?" continued the young lady with an air of authority. " Because master bid me, miss," was the satisfactory reply. " Well to be sure, that is queer ! I suppose he's the son of some- body or other, or papa would never have sent him in to us. It is not at all his way to patronise vulgarity. Where do you live, young gentleman ?" Michael looked very much as if he were in danger of laughing again, but he did not, and replied very demurely, " in Mr. Sykes's back-kitchen, ma'am, in Hoxley-lane." Though the answer was addressed to the inquirer, his eye turned OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 55 to Martha as he uttered it, as if anxious to see how she bore it, but he encountered a look that altogether puzzled him ; for though it was at least as kind as before, there was uneasiness in it, and she looked round her, as if uncomfortably doubtful of what would happen next. She did not, however, wait long for the result; for Miss Sophia, Miss Louisa, and Miss Charlotte, the three middling-sized Miss Cowlings, who had approached very near to the little boy, and were even growing so familiar that Miss Charlotte had taken hold of one of his dark curls, were severally and suddenly drawn off by the re- spective hands of their two eldest sisters, and the governess. " Then he is not a young gentleman after all ?" said Miss Sophia. " La ; how funny !" exclaimed Miss Louisa, " where did he get his clothes from?" interrogated Miss Harriet. " Most likely he stole them," responded Miss Arabella. " Why 'tis Duodecimus's jacket !" ejaculated the observing Miss Charlotte. " Oh ! quelle horreur !" cried the governess driving her pupils all before her to the other end of the room. At this moment, and before any more active measures could be re- sorted to for the safety of the young ladies,'the door of the school-room was again thrown open, and the portly person of Sir Matthew appeared at it, accompanied by the globe-like figure of Doctor Crockley. " Good morning young ladies !" said the proud father, looking round him, and immediately entering into the jest that he saw was afloat. " How do you like the young beau I have sent you]?" "Good gracious, papa!" exclaimed the elegant and much ad- mired Miss Arabella, " he is a beggar-boy and a thief!" Sir Matthew, and his friend Doctor Crockley, both burst into such a shout of laughter at this sally, that it was a minute before either of them could speak ; but at length the knight, turning to the doctor, said, " Leave my girls alone, Crockley, for finding out what's what ; I don't believe there's one of them but what would have found that fellow out, if I had wrapped him up in the king's own mantle." " They are sharp enough, there is no doubt of that," replied his friend, " but I must say you don't perform your charitable acts by halves, Sir Matthew. You have dressed up the little scamp so superbly, that nothing but the vulgar dark complexion could make one know that he was not one of your own." " Why yes, there is some difference in the skins I must say," re- plied Sir Matthew, looking with most parental complacency on the fair skins, flaxen hair, and light eyelashes of his race. Difference, indeed ! 'Tis Africa and Europe. And is it not re- markable Sir Matthew to see the look of him ? Hasn't he got a sort of slavish, terrified air with it? I tell you what, Sir Matthew, I should not be at all surprised to find, when the march of philo- sophy has got a little farther, that the blackamoor look comes along 56 THE LIFE AXD ADVENTURES with the condition, and, that the influence of wealth and conse- quence is as quickly shown upon the external appearance of men, women, and children, as a field of clover upon the inferior animals. And why not? It is quite natural perfectly conformable to the analogy, that, by accurately tracing cause and effect, may be followed through all creation. Yon have a head, Sir Matthew, for that sort of thing : you can understand me, if nobody else can." The little doctor knew that this was one of the soft points at which his wealthy neighbour was assailable. Sir Matthew loved to be assured that his head was of a superior fabric. " But why, papa, should you send a nasty beggar-boy to us, with Duo's clothes on ?" inquired the intelligent Louisa. Before he replied to this, the knight exchanged a glance with his friend, which seemed to sav, " that's the right sort she's in the clover- field." " I have taken him in for charity, my dear," replied the knight, with a sort of pomposity that seemed of a new pattern. The young ladies had never seen papa look so before. Martha, from having found herself rather more frequently the object of Dr. Crockley's jokes than she desired, had, on his entering the room, retired to the window, but now she came up to her father, and quietly, and as often happened, almost unnoticed, kissed his hand. For charity !" exclaimed the fair-haired Arabella, moving a step or two farther away from the object of this extraordinary caprice. " La Papa! why don't you send him to the hospital?" Doctor Crockley laughed outrageously. "That girl, Sir Mat- thew," he said, when he had recovered his voice, " that girl is be- yond all comparison the most thoroughly-born lady that ever I happened to hit upon and that is saying something, I promise you. She hasn't a commonplace vulgar notion in her from top to toe. It is what I call the physiology of wealth it is upon my soul it is a study, a science. I have not got to the end of it, but I am certain I shall make a system out of it and you'll be able to follow me, there's some comfort in that. I declare to God, that if I had not found you in .the neighbourhood, I should have bolted. I cannot exist without occasionally bringing my mind in contact with superior intellect ; you find that, too, Sir Matthew, I'm sure you do." Sir Matthew assured him that he did, very much ; and then pulling a Belinda lock that adorned the olive-coloured throat of Mademoiselle Beaujoie, he asked her if she had ever seen a brat, taken in for charity, so nicely dressed as that little blackguard." "Brawt? cried for. " Likely enough, sir," replied the overlooker with a grim smile. " I heard of the crying, I won't say that I didn't. You may guess, Sir Matthew that it was a good deal talked about among the servants and then t'other of 'em blubbering away at the mill, must give a pretty notion, mustn't it, sir, of your goodness to 'em ?" " Say no more about it, it makes me mad !" exclaimed the knight. " One or both of 'em shall be sent to Deep Valley mill, Parsons, if I die for it !" OP MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 141 " There's none but 'prentices taken in at the mill in the deep hollow, Sir Matthew, if you mean that." " Yes, sir, I do mean that," replied Sir Matthew with a very ominous frown, " and there Master Michael Armstrong shall go, 'pren- tice or no 'prentice, or I'll give him up my place, and take his." " That's all, then Sir Matthew," said the overlooker, preparing to depart. " I coin'd to put you up to the boys ingratitude, and have nothing further to say at present." " You need not trouble yourself any more about that, Mr. Parsons. I will take care of him," replied the knight. Whereupon Mr. Parsons made a bow, and departed. Sir Matthew Bowling had already taken one tumbler of hock-and- water. He now took a second, and then throwing himself back in his arm-chair, indulged for several minutes in very deep meditation. At the end of that time it seemed as if the good Rhine wine had done its office, for suddenly the knight's countenance became animated ; the heavy gloom which had rested upon it disappeared, and springing to his feet he rang the bell with a sort of lively jerk which showed he had some project in hand that he greatly relished. It was the lively Peggy who answered the summons ; but though she entered almost out of breath from the eagerness with which she had traversed the passage which led from the kitchen to the study, and though she brought into immediate activity all the agaceries of which she was capable, a smiling nod was all she got in return, so eager did Sir Matthew appear to say, " Go to Miss Martha, Peggy, as fast as you can, and tell her to come here to me this very minute. Go, my dear, and make haste, there's a good girl." Peggy was disappointed and angry, for she had a great deal to tell Sir Matthew about Michael Armstrong's ungratefulness, and all that the servants thought and said about it; but the command she had received was too peremptory to be trifled with, and though she very nearly slammed the study door in shutting it, she failed not to deliver her message, which was instantly obeyed with the most dutiful alacrity by Martha. " Did you send Peggy for me, papa ?" said she in entering. "Yes, Martha dear, I did. How are you to-day, my dear girl? I have not seen ' you before this morning. Sit down, love, sit down; I want to talk to you, Martha, I have got something upon my mind that vexes me, and I am going to open my heart to you about it." " Oh, my dear, dear papa '." returned Martha, " I should be so glad if I could be of any use to you !" " You can, Martha you can be of great use and comfort to me. In the first place you must be my father confessor, and let me confess my faults to you, and I hope you will give me absolution if you can ; for I really am very uncomfortable." " What can you mean, papa?" " Why, my dear, I mean that I have been foolish enough to put my- self in a great pet, when I ought not to have done any such thing. It is always wrong to let temper get the better of one ; but in this case it 142 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES was particularly so. You know the fuss that has been made about this little fellow that I have taken out of the factory I do assure you, my dear girl, that I really intended to be a very kind friend to him. But I got so provoked at his crying upon the stage last night in that beautiful speech that was written for him, that I cuffed him soundly for it when he came off and I am sadly afraid that I frightened the poor little fellow so violently that he will never feel comfortable, and at his ease with me again. You cannot think how this vexes me." " Oh ! my dear papa, he will never remember it any more if you will please to forgive him." And Martha's heart bounded with joy as she spoke, to think how completely Miss Brotherton's opinion would be changed could she but hear her father speak thus amiably of what had passed. " No, Martha, no; I cannot bear to see his frightened look. And besides, my dear, I shall never be sure of myself you know how hasty I am ! I should live in perpetual terror lest any thing should tempt me to give him a cuff. There are other reasons too, my dear Martha, which induce me to think that I should be doing the little fellow and his family infinitely more service if I apprenticed him to some good trade, than he could ever gain by running about Dowling Lodge." The excellent good sense of this observation struck Martha as very valuable, and she uttered the most cordial approbation of the wisdom and goodness from whence it proceeded. " I am exceedingly glad you agree with me, my dear child," pro- ceeded Sir Matthew, " for I have an idea that you could be very useful in making the arrangement. Do you happen to know where the little boy's mother lives, my dear Martha?" " No, papa but Michael could show me." " Then you should have no objection to pay her a visit on this busi- ness, my dear ?" *' Oh ! dear no ! I should like it so much !" " Very well, my love then you shall set out immediately if you will. Or stay it would perhaps be better to get you the paper first that they will have to sign. You must remember to tell them, Martha, that I shall undertake to pay all the fees. It certainly is an excellent thing for a poor family like Armstrong's, to have a boy 'prenticed to a good trade. I trust the mother will not refuse her consent from any selfish notion, that she may lose the boy's help thereby, it would be really very wicked. You may tell her, my dear, that I shall continue to send her down nice and nourishing food, and that little Michael shall be taught to write, and well instructed every way ; so she may be quite easy about him, and he will be sure to send her a letter every now and then." The knight concluded with a smile of kindness, that perfectly enchanted his daughter. " Oh ! my dear, dear papa !" she said, " how few people there are who know you as well as I do ! Let me go and look for Michael now, papa, shall I ? I should like to go down to his mother with him at once, and tell her of your great good- ness. The papers could be sent afterwards, you know." " Very well, dear, trot away then ; get your bonnet and parasol, OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 143 find your little squire, and then come back here to me to receive my last instructions." As soon as the happy-looking Martha had left the room the bell was again rung, and on this occasion answered by a footman, the lively Peggy choosing to turn herself another way as soon as she heard it. " Is Parsons gone ?" demanded Sir Matthew of the servant. " No, Sir Matthew, he is in the servants' hall," was the reply. " Desire him to step here directly." Though the overlooker was enjoying some very comfortable refresh- ment, he promptly obeyed the summons, and as soon as he had again entered the study, and shut the door behind him, his master said, " Do you know, Parsons, whether the woman Armstrong can read ?" " Yes, sir, I know she can and that's one reason why she is so outdacious about the workhouse and every thing. There's nothing on earth does so much mischief among the mill people as making scho- lards of 'em," said the man. " I know that well enough, who doesn't? But you may go now, I only wanted to ask you that one question," replied the master. Once more alone, the knight again took to meditation. Profound as was the state of ignorance respecting all things beyond their own wretched dwellings in which the operatives at that time were kept, Sir Matthew had some misgivings as to the possibility that the name and fame of Deep Valley mill, might have reached even Hoxley-lane. If it had, the sending to a woman who could read, indentures by which her child should become bound to that establishment till the age of twenty-one, was running a risk of more opposition than he wished to encounter. But he had a ready wit, and seldom remained long at a loss how to manage any business on which his mind had fixed itself. When Martha returned, therefore, he was quite ready with his last in- structions. " Have you found the little boy, my dear ?" said he mildly. " Yes, papa, he is waiting for me in the hall. Foolish little fellow ! I believe he fears that you are very angry with him, and he looked so much alarmed that I would not bring him in." " Poor child ! But you were quite right, my dear Martha. It is better not to harass him in any way. Now then, Martha, what you have got to do is this : Explain to the poor woman that it is my wish to keep my promise of providing for her boy ; but that I am come to the persua- sion that the apprenticing him to some respectable business will be better than letting him run about the place here learning nothing. You may talk to the little boy, you know ; he is a sharp child, and I have no doubt will come to the same conclusion himself, if you state the thing to him properly." " I have no doubt of it, papa," answered the innocent Martha ; " I will do my very best to make him understand it. And what trade shall I tell Mrs. Armstrong you have chosen for him?" " Stocking weaving, my dear, I really don't know a better ; and we may be able to help him in that if he behaves well as he goes on." " Well then, papa, now I may go ?" 144 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES " Yes, my dear, now you may go and you may just tell the woman, Martha, that if she approves the plan, I will call upon her myself some day with the papers. A pleasant walk to you ! Good bye." * * * * " * It was a very pleasant walk, for Martha was delighted with her companion. She opened to him kindly and clearly the plan for his being put apprentice to a respectable trade, and pointed out to his young but quick capacity the advantage this would give him in after life, and the power he might hope to possess, if he behaved well, of pro- viding for his mother and brother. " Tis that what I should like best of all things," said Michael. " Because, please ma'am, I know I must help 'em, as they beant neither of 'em so strong as I be." " You are a good boy, Michael, for thinking of them so much as you do. That is the reason I take notice of you, and love you." The little fellow nestled closer to her side, as they walked on, and raising the hand that held his, he laid it upon his shoulder, and pressed his cheek upon it with very endearing fondness. "What an affectionate little heart it is!" thought Martha, "and how very happy I shall be if I can help to get this business settled for him!" Of course Miss Martha Bowling had never been in Hoxley-lane before; and notwithstanding her having so agreeable a companion, she speedily became aware that the region was as unpleasant as it was new. " Is this the only road, my dear boy, by which we can get to your mother's house ?" said she, almost mechanically enveloping her offended nose, in her pocket-handkerchief. " It is here that we lives, please ma'am," said the child, pulling her onwards. " How very foolish of me !" thought Martha, withdrawing her handkerchief, " of course poor people live in poor houses. But 1 cannot think why the place should smell so !" No 12 was however soon reached, and the young lady carefully led by her little attendant through the largest gap in the hedge to the outer door of the back kitchen, in order that she might escape Mrs. Sykes's crowded front one. i " Go in first, Michael, and tell your mother that I am coming," said the considerate Martha. The child did so, but in this case there was no means for preparation, and having named the unexpected visitant and given his mother a hasty kiss, he returned before Martha had recovered the sort of shock which the dirty and desolate spot on which she stood had occasioned. In truth no person unaccustomed to approach the dwellings of the operatives in the towns of the manufacturing districts, can fail to be startled at the first near sight of them. In the very poorest agricul- tural village, the cottages which shelter its labourers have the pure untainted air of heaven to blow around their humble roofs ; but where forests of tall bare chimneys, belching eternal clouds of smoke rear their unsightly shafts towards the sky, in lieu of verdant air-refreshing OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 145 trees, the black tint of the loathsome factory seems to rest upon every object near it. The walls are black, the fences are black, the win- dow-panes (when there are any) are all veiled in black. No domestic animal that pertinaciously exists within their tainted purlieus, but wears the same dark hue ; and perhaps there is no condition of human life so significantly surrounded by types of its own wretched- ness as this. Martha Dowling shuddered as she looked around her ; and when Michael returned to lead her in, she felt half afraid of crossing the gloomy threshold. But the widow Armstrong was, as usual, less dirty in her abject misery than, perhaps, any other inhabitant of Hoxley-lane, or its im- mediate neighbourhood, and the mild countenance and gentle voice with which she replied to the young lady's salutation removed all her scruples, and she seated herself in the chair placed for her by Michael, with the best disposition in the world to improve the acquaintance. " I hope you are getting better, Mrs. Armstrong ?" said Martha, in that tone of genuine female softness which it is so impossible to mis- take, " and that you don't miss little Michael as much as you did at first." " You are very kind, ma'am, to take the trouble of coming to such a place as this," replied the poor woman, in a voice that indicated something like surprise. Upon which Michael, who had stationed himself near enough to enable him to slip his little hand into hers, said, with a tolerably expressive emphasis " This is Miss Martha, mother." " I wish, ma'am, I had strength and power to thank you as I ought, for all your condescending kindness to my poor boy !" said the widow, earnestly. *' I never see him, that he has not some fresh story to tell me of your goodness to him. He can read a chapter in the Bible now as well as any boy of his age need to do. And oh! Miss This is all owing to you for never could he have given his time to it in the factory." " There is more praise due to him than to me, Mrs. Armstrong, I assure you. He is a very good boy at learning, and minds every word that is said to him. I suppose he has shown you his copy-book too, hasn't he? I never saw a child that had so good a notion of writing." " He was always a quick boy, Miss but never can he be thankful enough to you for teaching him how to put his quickness to profit. It will be the making of him." " I am very glad to hear you speak so earnestly about his learning, because that makes me think that you will be pleased at hearing the business I am come upon. My papa, who is very" here poor Martha stopped short. She was going to add " kind to little Michael" but her honest heart would not let her pronounce the words ; so she changed the phrase, and went on with " very desirous of being really useful to Michael, has commissioned me, Mrs. Armstrong, to ask you if you do not think it would be more profitable and advantageous to L 146 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES him to be apprenticed to some good trade, the stocking-weaving for instance, than to run about our house any longer ? Papa says, he fears it will give him habits of idleness which he may be the worse for all his life and that would be quite contrary to his wishes, which have always been that he should benefit all his life long, by his good beha- viour about the cow." Mrs. Armstrong's eyes which had been fixed on the countenance of Martha, every line of which spoke of truth and sincerity, fell upon the work she held in her hand as these words were uttered and for a moment she made no answer. But feeling, perhaps, that this was both ungrateful and ungracious to her visiter, she looked up again and said, " I am sure, ma'am, we can never thank you enough for all your kindness." There was the slightest emphasis in the world upon the word " you" but it was enough to heighten the colour of Martha, and for a moment she both felt and looked displeased. " My power, of myself, to befriend your boy, Mrs. Armstrong, is very little, I assure you," she said. " Of course it is natural that I should take more notice of him than a person like my father can, who has so many other things to attend to ; but it is to his generosity and benevolence that you must look for any lasting advantage you may hope to gain for him." " Indeed, ma'am, I would be happy to take your advice in the dis- posal of him any way ; for I can't mistake your kindness, or your power to judge what is best, which of course must be greater than mine, notwithstanding your young age and if 'Michael likes it, and you think it best, ma'am." Martha saw that the mother's fear of having her boy parted from her, was combating the wiser hope for his future advantage ; and fully con- scious that the continuing his present mode of life could only be produc- tive of mortification, she boldly answered this appeal, and in the confiding innocence of her heart ventured to say, " Perhaps, in this case, girl as I am, my judgment may be better than yours, Mrs. Armstrong. I do not think it would be good or pleasant for Michael in any way, to continue living at the Lodge as he does at present; and I do think, that if put to a respectable trade, he may not only provide for himself, but be a help and comfort to you and his brother likewise. This is my opinion, cer- tainly, and now ask his. He is still younger than me, to be sure, poor little fellow, and yet I think you ought to listen to his opinion." " Well, Mike dear," said the widow, turning her head towards the child, " you hear what the young lady says ; speak up, my dear, and tell us what you think about it." " I be ready to go, mother, if she bids me, and you like it," replied the boy. " You can judge, ma'am, that he knows his duty. That is just like him. From the time he was able to speak, dear creature, it was always the same gentle, good, and reasonable. I won't say but what the parting with him will be a sore trial to me, but God forbid that I should set the wishes of my worn-out life against the hopes of his young one. OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 147 How far away is it Miss, do you happen to know where the master stocking- weaver bides, as he's to go to?" Martha confessed her ignorance on this point; but added, that though she should be sorry to hear it was too far off for him occasion- ally to come home and pay her a visit, she should be more sorry still, were he to be placed in the town of Ashleigh. "It would be only putting him for ever in the way of temptation, Mrs. Armstrong," said she ; " and I am sure you are too sensible a woman, to wish that he should be where the doing his duty was likely to be a pain to him." " Indeed, and that I would," said the poor woman, earnestly. " 'Tis the seeing their poor young faces for ever so sad and care-worn, that is the worst trial of all." " How true is what my dear father says about the factory people," thought Martha " how wonderfully they do all hate work !" This conviction of their epidemic idleness, however, in no degree chilled the good girl's desire at once to perform her father's will, and benefit a very interesting, though not, as she believed, a very indus- trious mother and son. So deeming it best to enter into no further discussion, but to accept the consent uttered by both as final and conclusive, she rose, and smiling good-humouredly at Michael said, " Now you have taught me the way here, I think I shall be able to get back again by myself; and I dare say Michael, that you and your mother will like to have a little conversation together about this new plan for you. But remember, dear, that you are home by five o'clock to read your lesson and show me your copy-book, we were interrupted this morning you know." Then leaving in the poor widow's hand a welcome token of her visit, and promising that she would either bring or send the papers necessary for her to sign, before long, the excellent Martha Dowling departed, after having most innocently, but most effectually, lent her aid to the perpetration of as hateful a crime, as the black heart of long-hardened depravity could devise. Having waited till the figure of the young lady had passed across the little window, the widow Armstrong pulled her boy towards her, and gave him a mother's kiss. " To be sure thee dost look all the better, my Mike, for good food, and fine clothing. But I shan't be satisfied, unless you tell me that you like all these new favours that they are going to confer upon you." " I like to go, mother, very much," replied Michael, stoutly. " Thank God ! then, my darling you are provided for," she re- joined with a deep sigh. " I have known a many stocking-weavers, Mike, exceeding well to do, and there was never one of them, I'll answer for it, that had a better will to work, and to do his duty, than you have so I have no right to doubt but what you will do well, and I don't doubt it. But 'tis the parting with thee, my dear, dear child ! Oh ! Mike, you have been a comfort to me ever since you was born and how do I know, if " " Mother!" cried the boy, interrupting her, "I'll be a comfort to you still. I'll tell you what I've got in my head to do, and just see L 2 148 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES if it is not a good plan. I mean to be the very best boy that ever my master had, and when I've gone on working with him a bit, two or three months, perhaps, mother, time enough for him really to find out that I am a good boy, I will tell him all about you and Teddy, and make him understand that if he wants to keep me in good heart to work, he must Jet me trudge away home to pass a Sunday now and then with you two. I don't think he'll be able to say no, mother, when I tell him about Teddy's poor legs, and all you have done for us both, lying a-bed here." Mrs. Armstrong again kissed her boy, and after gazing at him with a look in~ which pride and pleasure were strangely blended with an- guish, she said, " I do think you'll make your way, Michael for you are a good boy, a very good boy. But I don't know how poor Edward will take it." " That's the worst part of it, mother," replied the little fellow, be- ginning to cry. " Poor Teddy does look so very happy of a night when he sees me pop round the corner upon him, as he comes out of the factory ! But then I shall be able to help him, mother, all the better by and by. And when I come home of a Sunday, mother, I must teach him to write, and then think how beautiful to have a letter from one another ! I know who'll give me a slate for Teddy, and me too, to learn with, and that's Miss Martha. And I shan't mind asking her, not the least, because she knows I am going away. And do you know, mother, I've got another notion, and that's no bad comfort neither. I should not a bit wonder, if Miss Martha was to turn out a right good friend to you and Teddy, when I am gone." And so the little fellow ran on each hopeful word he uttered be- getting a new hope, till, by the time the hour of departure arrived, his poor mother had at least the comfort of believing that the prospect opening before him, was one that he looked upon with much less of pain than pleasure. Meanwhile Martha found her way safely home, and gave her father such an account of the result of her mission, as induced him to give her a kiss, and declare that if she was not the handsomest of the family, she was out-and-out the most useful. CHAPTER XIV. MARY BROTHERTON CONTINUES SICK IN HEART AND MIND BUT IS ROUSED AND CHEERED BY HER OWN STEADFAST WILL AN o'KR TRUE TALE. IT was not till the second dinner-bell had rung, that Mrs. Tremlett ventured to seek Mary in her chamber. The worthy woman was perfectly aware that the naturally strong OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 149 feelings of her young mistress had been violently affected by the scene they had witnessed, and though far perhaps from comprehending the effect it had produced on her mind, she was conscious that she should do no good by obtruding herself uncalled-for upon her retirement. But when the signal that always brought them together had passed unheeded, she became uneasy, and availing herself of the privilege that long and well-requited affection gave, she knocked at her door and called upon her name. Miss Brotherton answered the summons immediately ; but her with- drawing the bolt of her door, as well as the unchanged appearance of her dress, showed that she had not been occupied in preparing for dinner. " You are not aware how late it is, my dear child. The second dinner-bell has rung !" said Mrs. Tremlett looking anxiously in her pale face. " Has it ?" replied the young lady ; " indeed, I beg your pardon but I will not keep you waiting, I will not dress to-day if you will ex- cuse it." " No, no, my dear, that won't do. Never mind about the dinner I will tell them to take it out again." " Indeed I do not wish to dress," said Mary languidly. " Morgan will tease me by asking what dress I choose to wear and fifty questions besides. Let me go down as I am, nurse Tremlett." " You shan't have Morgan at all dear. The dressing will refresh you my darling child ; and it won't be the first time Mary, that I have done all that you wanted in that way. There just sit down on the sofa for one minute, and I will speak about the dinner, and be back again." It was very passively that Mary did as she was bid, and without another word of remonstrance sat down and awaited the return of her old friend. She was indeed completely exhausted, the scene she had witnessed had not touched only, it had wrung her heart; and the hours she had passed since, were not such as to bring her spirits back to their ordinary tone. It was not alone, the melancholy spectacle of a fellow-creature passing from life to death, which had thus strongly affected her it was the frightful degradation of the group of human beings who had gazed upon it with her. It was the horrible recollec- tion of the dying woman's statement respecting the lacerated flesh of her child and it was the filth, the misery, the famine, and the vice that she had been warned of, and had seen, which had set her power- ful, healthy, unprejudiced, and unselfish mind, to meditate upon the state of things which had produced it. It was hardly possible for any one to be more profoundly ignorant upon the subject which had thus seized upon her heart, than was Mary Brotherton. On the question of negro slavery she had from her very earliest infancy heard a great deal, for her father was an anti- (black)-slavery man, who subscribed to the African society, and the missionary fund; drank Mr. Wilberforce's health after dinner when- ever he had company at his table ; and while his own mills daily sent millions of groans to be registered in heaven from joyless young hearts 150 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES and aching infant limbs, he rarely failed to despatch with nearly equal regularity (all booked for the same region) a plentiful portion of benevolent lamentations over the sable sons of Africa, all uttered com- fortably from a soft arm-chair, while digestion was gently going on, and his well-fed person in a state of the most perfect enjoyment< On the slavery question therefore Mary really knew a great deal, and felt concerning it as every true Christian must feel. But as to every thing concerning the nature of the labour performed in the factories by whose chimneys her pleasant park was surrounded the age, sex, or condition, of the labourers the proportion of their daily existence devoted to toil the degree of care bestowed on their immortal souls or the quantum of enjoyment permitted to them by their earthly masters, while awaiting a summons to the presence of their heavenly one of all this Mary Brotherton was as ignorant as the sleek lap- dog that dozed upon her hearth-rug. But this carefully-adjusted cloud was now passing away from her intellect for ever. If " Where ignorance is bliss, it is folly to be wise," that folly had seized upon her ; for no longer was she destined to taste the doubtful joy of luxury that had never looked upon the seamy side of existence, or dreamed that the means that supplied its exquisite, yet almost unnoted refinements, were earned by the agony of labour- ing infants. But though this, worse than fools paradise, was thus closed upon her for ever, she felt a power and energy of purpose awaked within her heart, that she thanked God upon her bended knees for giving, though she trembled as she received it. And never did sainted nun breathe purer or more earnest vows of self-devotion to heaven, than did this ardent-spirited girl to the examination, and, if possible, to the relief of the misery she had at length learned to know existed round her. But like most other persons when occupied by a really profound emotion, Mary felt no inclination to talk about it. She had not indeed the slightest intention to conceal any thing she did from Mrs. Tremlett, but on the contrary hoped eventually to gain much assistance from her strong practical good sense ; but she could not discuss, she could not reason, she could not prate about it now, and she went through the busi- ness of the dinner-table so tranquilly, that her watchful companion felt rejoiced, though a little surprised, at her recovered composure. Soon after they retired from table, Mary proposed a walk in the grounds, and as they wandered together through the richly-scented flower-garden, and then seated themselves where the cool breeze of evening brought the tempered fragrance to their senses more delight- fully still, the feverish feeling of tightness across her forehead, seemed to relax, and as if to apologise for the silent fit that had seized her, Mary looked kindly into the face of her old friend, and then bent forward and kissed her. " Bless you, my dear love ! you feel better now, don't you ?" said the affectionate old woman. OF MICHAEL ARMSTRONG. 151