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 OF ILLINOIS 
 
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 HOME & THE HOMELESS. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY CECILIA MARY CADDELL, 
 
 Authoress of " The Little Snowdrop,' '" Blind Agnese," &c. 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 ILonfcon: 
 T. CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHED, 
 
 30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. 
 
 1858. 
 
 [The Right of Translation is strictly reserved,]
 
 J 
 
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 " Where is Mr. Sutherland, I wonder?" said 
 Evelyn de Burghe, as she seated herself behind 
 the massive silver urn which was already hissing 
 on the table, and prepared to fulfil her ap- 
 pointed duties as tea-maker general to the party 
 assembled at the ' Ferns.' 
 
 The speaker, a tall, elegant looking woman, 
 appeared to be about five-and-twenty years of 
 age, she might have been a little more, or a little 
 less, but unless she chose to tell, it would have 
 been impossible to say which; for tho' her form 
 
 VOL. I, B
 
 6 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 had developed itself into a graceful fulness, ap- 
 parently incompatible with the first years of 
 girlhood, yet, the softness of her skin, and the 
 exceeding purity of her complexion, involuntarily 
 suggested the idea of that season of youth, when 
 beauty is like a rose-bud just unfolded, ere sun 
 or shower or careless breezes have had power to 
 ruffle its leaves, or to dim its brightness. Her 
 soft dark hair, black, but with the blue shadow 
 of the raven's wing brightening over its heavy 
 masses, was banded simply on a brow broad 
 and high, and telling of a queenly intellect with- 
 in, while the eye-brows nearly straight, but 
 clearly defined and delicately pencilled, gave, as 
 it were, with their look of calm decision, an in- 
 dex to the volume. The eyes that shone beneath 
 were deeply, beautifully blue, and looked all the 
 more so from the long dark lashes that swept 
 her cheek like a silken curtain whenever her 
 looks went downwards. When in repose, the 
 expression of the whole face was often pensive 
 almost to sadness, but it lightened and sparkled 
 into child-like gaiety the moment she began to 
 speak, it was as if a cloud had been suddenly
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 7 
 
 lifted from off her spirit, or as if in the effort to 
 forget, she had not merely put aside a painful 
 recollection, but had banished it for the moment 
 altogether. 
 
 The room in which she sat, on the morning 
 we have introduced her to our readers, was no 
 unfitting setting for so fair a gem. It was in- 
 tended for a library, but books were mingled 
 with flowers and pictures, and all the lighter in- 
 dustries of woman's leisure hours, in such a way 
 rs to mark it for her daily resting place, and to 
 take off from the dusty, dusky sense of learning, 
 which too often oppress us in such abodes when 
 consecrated to the use of the other sex alone. 
 At the further end it opened into a well-filled 
 conservatory, where happy birds were singing, and 
 from whence myrtle and heliotrope sent their soft 
 perfume; and the bay windows in front looked 
 out upon a garden in which the dark green turf 
 was happily relieved by beds of snowdrops and 
 crocuses, purple, white, and golden yellow, in al- 
 ternate masses of rich colour, while a sense of 
 calm seclusion was thrown over all, by the screen 
 of shining evergreens that almost shut out this
 
 8 HOME AKD TIIE HOMELESS. 
 
 fairy nook from the pleasure grounds beyond it. 
 A couch and table already laid for breakfast were 
 placed in the deep recess of one of the windows 
 commanding this pretty view. The couch was 
 occupied by an invalid, a boy of about ten years 
 of age, with blue eyes and golden hair, that would 
 have given him the aspect of an angel, but for a 
 look of patient sorrow on his brow, such as angels 
 do not need to wear, save, perhaps, when they 
 are compelled to mourn over the erring mortals 
 committed to their keeping. A pair of crutches 
 laid beside him told the story of his sickly 
 childhood, and more than accounted for that look 
 of uncomplaining sadness which we have noticed, 
 and which, touching as it would have been on 
 the face of any, was doubly so on that of one so 
 young and fair. 
 
 At that moment, however, his thoughts were 
 happily diverted from his own sorrow by the ap- 
 pearance of some unwonted object in tlie garden, 
 and upon this his eyes were so intently fixed 
 that he did not even hear the lady's question, 
 a mental absence equally shared in, though from 
 a different cause, by the only other remaining
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 9 
 
 occupant of the chamber. This third indivi- 
 dual was a man of about thirty years of age, 
 with a face full of character and intellectual power, 
 but whom we may not venture to describe more 
 minutely, seeing that at this particular instant 
 he lay almost buried out of sight, in an easy- 
 chair, while the broad sheet of an unfolded 'Times' 
 completed the process of shrouding him from 
 observation. 
 
 "Frank! Wyllie!" cried Miss De Burgbe, 
 with a kind of half- affected, half- real annoyance 
 at their inattention. " What is there in the 
 4 Times,' what growing in the garden, to de- 
 prive you of eyes and ears for the benefit of your 
 neighbour?" 
 
 " Political discontents in Paris," cried Frank. 
 
 " The little cress girl in the garden," mur- 
 mured Wyllie almost in the same breath. 
 
 " The little cress girl first by all means," said 
 Evelyn. " Paris and its news will keep, and 
 Lizzy's appetite will not prove quite so accom- 
 modating, poor child, I am afraid — " 
 
 Miss de Burghe was rising from the table as 
 she spoke, when the door opened, and a young 
 
 B 5
 
 10 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 girl glided noiselessly as a shadow to her side. 
 Scarce sixteen summers could have passed over 
 her brow, and beautiful as a fairy, she was 
 almost as diminutive. When first you looked 
 Upon her face, you did not judge its expression 
 strictly ; you forgot to weigh the bad against the 
 good, or rather, perhaps, you never dreamed 
 that anything of bad could be mingled in the 
 composition of a thing so lovely. You gazed 
 upon her as you would have gazed upon a rain- 
 bow, or a fire fly, or a humming bird, or any 
 other bright fantastic thing in Heaven above, or 
 the earth beneath it; and it was not until you 
 remembered that this vision of a poet's dream 
 was still a woman, a human, and therefore a 
 responsible creature, with a soul to be saved, 
 and a mind to recognise the greatness of her 
 destinies, and a double nature out of which to 
 work them, the higher ever warring against the 
 lower, and the lower still seeking to encroach 
 upon the higher; it was not until you remem- 
 bered this, that while you looked into those bright 
 unsettled eyes, and marked the passionate qui- 
 vering of that rosy lip, you felt half inclined
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 1 1 
 
 to shudder at the tale they told — of headlong 
 passions without principle to restrain them, of 
 fierce and indomitable will without that calm 
 wisdom of religion, which alone could have ren- 
 dered it heroic in the ways of virtue. 
 
 But it was not upon the first nor even upon 
 the second interview that you would have dis- 
 covered all this. Strangers seldom left her un- 
 fascinated by her beauty, and by the thousand 
 little winning ways, which her half childish, 
 half womanish position permitted on the one 
 hand and gave a charm to on the other ; while to 
 those who ought to have known her better — the 
 dwellers by her own hearth and home —to them, 
 as it so often happens in such cases, she seemed 
 still a child, and was loved and petted as such 
 without much reference to the good or bad that 
 might still be lurking undeveloped in her dispo- 
 sition. Possibly of all that home-circle Evelyn 
 was the one who knew her best. Women come 
 so much in contact with each other, that she had 
 already discovered that germ of selfishness 
 which lay hidden beneath the surface; and, be- 
 sides, she had from nature and education an un-
 
 12 HOME AND THH HOMELESS. 
 
 conquerable dread of that reckless liberty of 
 thought and speech in which Lily indulged in 
 her hours of enthusiasm. 
 
 Yet it was this very enthusiasm that attracted 
 Frank to the worship of his little sister. He 
 saw nothing of Lily but the glittering exterior. 
 He knew her to be affectionate, innocent, impe- 
 tuous, and lively ; but he forgot that if she were 
 innocent, she was still untried. He was proud 
 of what he thought her genius, but he remem- 
 bered not that genius, unruled by sense and 
 principle, was little less than madness. He ac- 
 cepted of her eloquent harangues against social 
 and religious bondage, as proofs of a mind strong 
 enough to emancipate itself from what he con- 
 sidered the superstitions of the nursery: and he 
 reflected not that such an idea of her own irre- 
 sponsibility lodged in a human creature's breast 
 must one day infallibly take root in evil — take 
 root downwards, and shoot out upwards, until all 
 the fairer promise of the harvest should be de- 
 stroyed beneath its shadow. He forgot all this, 
 or rather, indeed, he did not recognise it as a 
 fact. He judged his sister, too, by himself; he
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 13 
 
 knew that he had ever aspired after truth for its 
 own sake, and if, at last, he had ceased to seek 
 it. it was because he fancied (however falsely) 
 that already he had attained it. 
 
 The truth, or rather that which he considered 
 truth, had made him sad, but it could not make 
 him vicious. He was gifted with a noblene 
 nature which recoiled from vice of its own free 
 prompting, and it never occurred to him that 
 others with a weaker will to resist the evil might 
 have a stronger craving towards it; least of all 
 had he ever dreamed that his young sister, care- 
 fully secluded as she had been from all its out- 
 ward forms, had yet its instincts in her; or that 
 she had already listened to the tempter's voice; 
 or that, as really was the case at the very 
 moment when our tale commences, she w.is ac- 
 tually upon the edge of the precipice, and that 
 in her final plunge she would seek to justify her 
 conduct by a reference to bis axioms. 
 
 How, indeed, could he think it, as she entered 
 that morning with her bright looks and her smile, 
 as if no heavier cares than those of childhood 
 had ever yet come near her, while with the halt
 
 14 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 sister, half privileged little daughter kind of way 
 that ever won him most especially to love her, 
 she pushed aside the crumpled newspaper, and 
 imprinted a light but loving kiss upon his fore- 
 head. From him she passed to Evelyn, and in 
 answer to the half reproachful " You are late 
 this morning, Lily," of the latter, answered im- 
 patiently : 
 
 " Because 1 have been with mama, and she 
 wants a cup of tea — and I met my uncle on the 
 stairs, and he says we must not wait for him — 
 he was going to speak to Parker — " 
 
 " Is not my mother well this morning, Lily?" 
 cried Frank, all his apathy or his interest in his 
 newspaper forgotten in a moment. 
 
 " There is nothing much the matter with her, 
 I think," said Lily ; " Sunday exhausts her facul- 
 ties ; no great wonder either, as she performs it, 
 and you know that Monday is almost always a 
 bad day with her." 
 
 This was all true enough in the main, and 
 Evelyn knew that Mrs. Montgomery's Sabbath 
 was enough to exhaust the strength of an old 
 woman and the patience of a young one, yet she
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 15 
 
 could not help feeling annoyed at the indifference 
 with which Lily spoke of the good lady's indis- 
 position ; and so perhaps, though all unconfessed 
 and unconsciously to himself, was Frank, for he 
 rose at once from his beloved arm chair, and 
 came to aid Evelyn in the arrangement of the 
 little tray which was to bear her breakfast to 
 his mother. 
 
 Lily on her part glided off towards the sofa 
 where Wyllie lay waiting impatiently until some 
 one should come to relieve his anxiety about the 
 little cress girl, and no sooner had she learned 
 the cause of his wistful glances than, throwing 
 open the opposite window, she sprang into the 
 garden at once. 
 
 u Never mind," said Frank, observing the ex- 
 pression of Evelyn's face as she watched the re- 
 treating figure of the young girl, " we cannot 
 put old heads upon young shoulders, you know, 
 and Lily is like a butterfly, always wanting to 
 be in two places at once. Give me the tray, and 
 I will carry it to my mother." 
 
 He took it as he spoke, looking (as indeed he 
 felt) rather glad than otherwise that the office had
 
 16 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 devolved upon him, for if hissister was a part of 
 his life, his mother almost seemed to him as that 
 very life itself, so passionately did he love her; 
 his whole heart and soul were bound up in hers, 
 and for her sake it was that he was living here 
 in a state of inactivity little suitable to his intel- 
 lectual attainments, having given up a fair though 
 distant prospect of success in a liberal profession, 
 for the sole purpose of tending her in her declin- 
 ing years, of watching over her to the end, and of 
 finally receiving her last sigh upon his bosom. 
 
 She was the only sister of Mr. Sutherland 
 the owner of c the Ferns,' but her husband had 
 died soon after the birth of Lily, leaving her in 
 such distressed circumstances that Mr. Suther- 
 land, since then, had taken her and her infant 
 to reside with him, and Frank, too proud wil- 
 lingly to allow his mother to be put under such 
 an obligation, did his best to lessen it in a pecu- 
 niary point of view, by throwing up his college 
 life, and accepting the office of tutor to his 
 uncle's eldest boy. 
 
 Of this boy, we shall have much to say by- 
 and-bye, but not just yet. Mr. Sutherland's
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 17 
 
 only other child was the young invalid on the 
 sofa, for Evelyn de Burghe was the daughter 
 of the late Mrs. Sutherland by a former hus- 
 band. 
 
 Frank had hardly ]eft the room when Lily 
 re-entered it from the garden, bringing a basket 
 of water cresses with her, and closely followed 
 by their owner, a miserable looking little girl 
 with blue nose and fingers, and tattered dress, 
 still wet and clinging from the moist places in 
 which she had sought her merchandise. 
 
 " See, Wyllie, darling,' cried Lily, with 
 childish glee. " See how fresh and green these 
 are. But we must wash them first," she 
 added with a very perceptible glance of disgust 
 at the child who had brought them. " We must 
 wash them clean of all contamination, and then 
 you can spread them with a clear conscience on 
 your bread and butter." 
 
 Even as she was speaking, she piling* d them 
 into a china bowl, and while with her rosy 
 fingers she endeavoured daintily to cleanse them 
 from the earth which was clinging to the lower 
 leaves, or from what she yet more intensely
 
 18 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 dreaded, any previous contact with Lizzy's dirty 
 fingers, Evelyn, on more hospitable thoughts in- 
 tent, set a basin of bread and milk before the half- 
 starved child. 
 
 It was February, but the air was mild as tho' 
 it had been summer, and Evelyn lingered a 
 moment at the open window to question the little 
 girl about her mother, who had been ill the last 
 time Lizzy brought cresses to the c Ferns.' 
 The question had hardly escaped her lips when 
 Lizzy suddenly stopped eating, and there were 
 real tears in her eyes as she answered 
 sadly : — 
 
 " Troth, my lady, she's very bad entirely ! 
 Father bate her last night a' most to smith- 
 ereens." 
 
 " Poor thing," said Evelyn, "and what for, ray 
 child?" 
 
 " Av you plaize, my lady, bekaise she wanted 
 the bit of coppers she got fur the work she 
 done to git us some vittles for supper — and 
 father— " 
 
 "Well and what did father want?" asked 
 Evelyn, observing that she paused.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 19 
 
 u Ough ! father wanted it for the public av 
 coorse," replied Lizzy with a little hesitation 
 perceptible in her manner ; u but shure he'd bate 
 the skin off of me if he knew that I towld on 
 him. So av you plaize, my lady, it 'ud be best 
 not to mintion it, in case he ever comes accrass 
 you." 
 
 "Mention it, my poor child, why should I? 
 or how," she added as the thought passed thro' 
 her mind that she neither knew the man in 
 question by name or sight; all her knowledge of 
 him and his, being derived from Lizzy, who had 
 some how managed to install herself as " water 
 cress gatherer especial" to the family at the 
 1 Ferns.' 
 
 " But did your father get the money, Lizzy, 
 after all?" 
 
 u Didn't he tho'," said the child. " Ah, thin 
 why wouldn't he, my lady? Shure hadn't he the 
 strong hand to take it, and mother, what wid 
 work an' cryin, waker nor a little babby." 
 
 " And so you went supperless to bed ? " 
 
 " Well, it warn't the first, and it won't be the 
 last time neither! and that's why I'm on the
 
 20 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 hill so airly, for I thought may be the kind 
 hearted young gentleman would like the greens 
 for his breakfast." 
 
 " How you must hate your father," said Lily, 
 carelessly, as she passed and repassed the window 
 while arranging Wyllie's little breakfast table to 
 her fancy. " To starve his own children for 
 the sake of an odious gin shop. What a 
 brute ! " 
 
 " Mother doesn't call him a brute," said 
 Lizzy, gravely. u She says he is our father." 
 
 "And when he beats you, what does she call 
 him then? " asked Lily. 
 
 " Then she cries, and says nothing at all at 
 all," was Lizzy's answer. 
 
 " And when he takes her money, and goes to 
 the ale house? " 
 
 " She says it's the bad habit he's got, and that 
 he can't help it; and troth it seems so, for he's 
 never to say altogether right down sober; but 
 we childhre do be wishing some times that he 
 could, for it keeps our bellies empty — and does 
 him a power of harrum besides." 
 
 " Poor little thing," said Wyllie, tenderly.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 21 
 
 " Come here and say if this half-crown will not 
 be enough to buy breakfast for the children ? " 
 
 " Ah, thin may the Heavens be your bed this 
 day for the kind heart and open hand to the 
 poor and needy," cried the child holding up the 
 money with triumphant gratitude in both look 
 and gesture. u Buy breakfast, to be shure it 
 will, lashins and lashins of breakfast, only I 
 must contrive manes to hide it from father, for 
 av he only cotch sight of it, he'd drink it all up in 
 a jiffy, an' so we'd be ruinationed entirely agin." 
 
 "But how will you hide it?" asked Wyllie, 
 looking at the living little bundle of rags before 
 him with a strong notion of the impossibility of 
 discovering a single article among her garments 
 sufficiently sound to admit of her stowing away 
 her treasure within it. 
 
 Lizzy, however, thought otherwise, for taking 
 off the apology for a straw hat that ornamented 
 her head, she very cleverly inserted the money 
 into the lining, by which alone the dilapidated 
 plaits were kept together at all. 
 
 "See now," she cried in the tone of satisfied 
 and successful genius. "He'll never drhame of
 
 22 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 lookin' there for money, not but what he'll sarch 
 me from head to foot, he will, but this time any 
 ways I'll be cuter nor he, and av I hears him in 
 the place afore I open the door, may I never sin 
 but I'll jist rowl the bannet all up of a heap and 
 notch it into a corner, and then, when he comes 
 to sarch for the testers, sorra ha'porth poor Lizzy 
 will have got about her." 
 
 It would be impossible to convey any idea of 
 the exulting zest with which Lizzy described the 
 scene, the rolling up of the wretched bonnet, the 
 clever movement by which it was to be hotched, 
 as she called it, into the corner, the look of stolid 
 unconsciousness with which afterwards she would 
 pass to the paternal arms for personal exam- 
 ination, and the triumphant laugh that at once 
 wound up this description of the scene, and 
 conveyed the idea of its success ; all was inimit- 
 able in its way, and when Wyllie and his 
 thoughtless cousin laughed aloud, even Evelyn, 
 albeit sighing heavily all the while, could not 
 resist a smile. 
 
 " Poor child," she said aloud as Lizzy disap- 
 peard thro' the garden-gate, " what a fearful lot
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 23 
 
 is that of poverty ! And if we dread temptation 
 in the lap of plenty, what must it be, when 
 starvation urges it upon us? Alas! alas! we 
 complain of the want of truth and honesty 
 in the pauper, and forgetting that it is this very 
 poverty which has branded such vices on his 
 soul, we don't always even deign to remind our- 
 selves that hateful and dishonorable as such 
 practices appear to us, they too often present 
 themselves to his mind as the only possible means 
 of escaping from starvation. 
 
 " But Lizzy is not dishonest, Evelyn," observed 
 Wyllie, anxious for the honor of his favorite; 
 "surely you do not think so?" 
 
 " Dishonest. Wyllie, oh, certainly not, only 
 having once learned cleverly to deceive her father, 
 it is impossible not to fear that she may lose at 
 last all scruple of deceiving others if her neces- 
 sities should ever prompt it." 
 
 " Horrid man ! I hope she will deceive him all 
 the days of his life," was Lily's fervent ejacula- 
 tion, while Wyllie still urged his sister. 
 
 " But they would be starved without; surely, 
 surely, you do not blame her."
 
 24 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " Blame her," said Evelyn, affectionately lay- 
 ing her hand on her brother's shoulder. " Blame 
 her, Wyllie! when I am tempted like Lizzy 
 and withstand temptation, then perhaps I may 
 throw the first stone, but certainly not till 
 then. In the mean time I only say, God help 
 the poor." 
 
 " Amen, most noble lady," said Frank, who 
 entered the room at that moment. u Why hallo, 
 Lily," he cried, turning to his sister, " I declare 
 while I have been doing your duties by my 
 mother, you have been poaching on Evelyn's, 
 and making Wyllie here as comfortable as a 
 king." 
 
 " So you have indeed," said Evelyn ; " dear 
 Lily, I wish you were always in such an actively 
 benevolent humour," she continued, glancing at 
 the delicate slices of bread and butter, and the 
 pretty little basket of freshly cut flowers from 
 the conservatory which Lily had placed in plea- 
 sant proximity to the cream and sugar on W/llie's 
 little table. 
 
 a And so do I," said Wyllie, " you have made 
 every thing look so pretty, Lily ; you sometimes
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS 25 
 
 work like a good little fairy when no one is look- 
 ing, and then at other times you are — " 
 
 " Not in an actively benevolent humour," said 
 Lily, " I can't do anything unless I happen to 
 be in the proper mood for it, so it is no u«e 
 trying." 
 
 " In that case you can hardly expect much 
 gratitude, since you will be acting only to please 
 yourself and not your friends," said Evelyn, "but, 
 Frank, you have not told us yet how your mother 
 is to-day." 
 
 " Oh, pretty well, I think," said Frank, " we 
 had a little chat together, and then she sent me 
 down to get my breakfast. So please give it to 
 me, Evelyn, and as quick as you can, too, for 
 half the morning is gone already." 
 
 The tea accordingly was poured out and the 
 toast buttered and then Frank spoke again. 
 
 " But after all — by Jove, I had almost forgot- 
 ten to ask — what was that pious ejaculation, 
 Evelyn, which you were pouring forth as I came 
 into the room just now?" 
 
 " Evelyn was invoking the aid of Heaven 
 upon the poor," said Lily, who albeit she had 
 
 VOL I. C
 
 26 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 chosen to eat her breakfast this morning at 
 Wyllie's little table, still kept a sharp ear for 
 all that was going on at the other end of the 
 room . 
 
 " A little of man's aid would be the more 
 substantial benefit, I should have thought," said 
 Frank, " if our most wise Minerva had not 
 affirmed the contrary." 
 
 " I have neither denied nor affirmed !" said 
 Evelyn, "in fact, it seems very desirable to me 
 that the two should go hand in hand, or, to 
 speak more correctly, that the first should 
 prompt and direct the latter." 
 
 " Always supposing that we admit the first," 
 said Frank, as he sipped his tea. 
 
 " Nay, Frank, I am not going to dispute that 
 question with you," she answered smiling; " this 
 is a bright, inspiriting morning, and I do not 
 want your doctrines of future annihilation to 
 mar the prospect." 
 
 " Truth is truth," said Frank, " and it is to 
 be faced, not feared." 
 
 " It must be found first," said Evelyn coolly, 
 " before we can do either the one or the other."
 
 HOME AXD THE HOMELESS. 2, 
 
 " Besides, Frank does not mean annihilation 
 
 in the coarse vulgar sense in which you would 
 use it, Evelyn," cried Lily, living from her un- 
 finished breakfast at YVyllie's table to seat herself 
 beside her brother. 
 
 " In what sense then would you explain his 
 words?" said Evelyn, for Frank was leaning 
 his head upon his hand and seemed unwilling to 
 reply; 'and what can the denial of a future 
 state be considered to mean, excepting annihila- 
 tion?" 
 
 ' It is not annihilation that I picture to myself 
 in the death-sleep of our human nature!" cried 
 Lily enthusiastically. " Then shall everything 
 that is bright and ethereal in our present exist- 
 ence be absorbed into the spirit of that all gentle 
 nature from whence we have derived our being; 
 we shall crown ourselves with the stars, we shall 
 revel in the sunbeams, we shall sing to the music 
 of bright waters flowing, and we shall kiss the 
 rose leaves in every summer breeze that sighs 
 along the valley." 
 
 " And this," said Evelyn, laying her hand on 
 the white arm of Lily, as she waved it gently 
 
 c 2
 
 28 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 to and fro to the cadence of her voice, "what 
 is to become of this?" 
 
 " That," said Frank, suddenly lifting up his 
 head, " why of course from that c fair and un- 
 polluted flesh shall violets spring.' " 
 
 " Well, I am glad we have got down to earth 
 at last," said Evelyn; tc that solution of a por- 
 tion of the difficulty at least I understand, but 
 Lily's starlit aspirations are quite beyond my 
 comprehension, as I suspect they are beyond 
 your own," she added, with a quick glance at 
 Frank as he rose from table. 
 
 " Let the poor child dream out her dream," he 
 replied in a low voice, speaking rather to 
 Evelyn's look than to her words. " It is a very 
 pretty dream, and can do no harm." 
 
 " No harm," repeated Evelyn, " to spend her 
 life in blowing mental soap bubbles, careless, so 
 that the tints be pretty, of the fact that in the 
 end they infallibly must burst; you believe in a 
 sterner order of things yourself, and yet you 
 suffer her to dissipate her mind in these vague 
 dreams of beauty." 
 
 " It is because the order of things, in which I
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 29 
 
 believe, is so stern," said Frank sadly, a that I 
 dare not as yet bring her into contact with it. 
 She will come to it by degrees ; she has passed 
 the first bounds of the bigot circle ; she is free 
 from the chain in which you are still held caj)- 
 tive, and she will learn the truth by the time 
 that she has mental nerve and self reliance to 
 endure it." 
 
 u And to what purpose?" asked Evelyn. " It 
 will not make her happier — it cannot make her 
 better." 
 
 " To what purpose!" said Frank, with a sort 
 of brisk cheerfulness, which he always assumed 
 when speaking on this subject. u Because it is 
 fitting that the truth should be known; because 
 it is fitting that we should recognise our des- 
 tinies, and by learning the futility of aspiring 
 beyond them should be strengthened to direct 
 our best energies to the only thing that can avail 
 us aught, their due and entire fulfilment here." 
 
 " And that fulfilment, but the success of some 
 short forty, fifty, seventy years of time. How 
 poor an end for so great an effort !" 
 
 " You are mistaken and unjust," Frank
 
 30 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 warmly retorted. u The end is not with us; our 
 progress is the progress of our race as well. For 
 every step we make, our children will make two, 
 and so on in proportion, till — " 
 
 u Till the human race has reached perfection," 
 added Evelyn. u Yet, considering the world is 
 some thousands of years of age already, so far we 
 have gone but slowly about it." 
 
 " Aye, because hitherto we have made more 
 retrograde than forward movements," cried 
 Frank eagerly. " But now principles are be- 
 ginning to be recognised, springs of action 
 to be set in motion which must infallibly in a 
 short time produce a different result. Why do 
 you look so incredulous V" 
 
 u Because your hopes seem to me so simply 
 impossible, so absolutely contradicted by all that 
 history and our own experience of human nature 
 tells us. You insist upon the necessity of man's 
 perfection, and yet you give him no motive for 
 endeavouring to attain it." 
 
 " I give him the highest and the best," said 
 Frank, " the approbation of his own intellect, 
 and the pleasure of doing right for right's sake,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 31 
 
 which is after all an original instinct in the 
 human heart." 
 
 " But other instincts are in that heart as well, 
 other and more tangible pleasures will appeal to 
 its earthly nature, and if there is no one above 
 to forbid, nothing beyond to allure by hope or 
 to restrain by fear, do you think there is not 
 sufficient sophistry in the human breast to make 
 the wrong seem right, or if not right, at least a 
 matter of absolute indiiference. But why do I 
 talk thus of right and wrong?" Evelyn con- 
 tinued warmly. " There is no real right or 
 wrong in such a system as you uphold. If there 
 is no Supreme Being to give the law, there can of 
 necessity be no law to break. If man is his own 
 master, sovereign and uncontrolled, surely he 
 has a right to legislate for himself, and to gratify 
 his basest passions without any reference to the 
 opinion of the world." 
 
 " He would be all the more noble in his recti- 
 tude — " Frank was just beginning, when his 
 uncle entered. 
 
 Mr. Sutherland was a handsome, fair haired 
 man, with a clear, cold, cut-stone sort of expres-
 
 32 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 sion of countenance. He looked like one who 
 could neither be moved by pity nor restrained by 
 fear, and in any of the smaller embarrassments 
 of life you would probably (had you known him 
 intimately) as soon have thought of appealing 
 to the sympathies of a statue as to anything of 
 the kind that might be concealed within his 
 bosom. On the present occasion he looked, if 
 possible, more icy and reserved than usual, a 
 certain symptom that something or other had 
 gone wrong with him. Frank, whom he loved 
 better than any human creature except his 
 eldest son, was the only person whom he greeted 
 with even a show of cordiality. Wyllie, who was 
 chatting to his cousin Lily,, he passed entirely 
 without notice; but he bowed coldly to Evelyn 
 as she proffered him the cup of tea which she 
 had poured out upon his entrance. They did 
 not love each other, that was plain. He re- 
 spected her, it is true; he could not help it; but 
 that very respect was inimical to affection, for it 
 arose from an innate consciousness that she 
 would never hesitate to thwart his dearest 
 plans, if she conscientiously thought it right
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 33 
 
 to do so. This conviction induced a kind of 
 fear, which in such a mind as his was tanta- 
 mount to hatred. True, he almost hated 
 himself also for the fear he could not subdue, 
 but he hated her still more for being able to 
 inspire it. Nevertheless, he was perfect master 
 of himself and his own emotions, and there- 
 fore always treated her with the outward cour- 
 tesy due to her position in the family as the 
 daughter of his late wife, while she on her part 
 possessed a native tact, which had hitherto effec- 
 tually prevented any unpleasant collision between 
 them. 
 
 " Any commands for Paris, Lily ?" Mr. Suther- 
 land at length broke the silence by demanding, 
 while he pushed his cup over to Evelyn to be re- 
 plenished, " I am off in an hour." 
 
 " To Paris, sir!" cried each of the party, in 
 various tones of astonishment and enquiry. 
 
 " To Paris," he repeated coldly, " I will bring 
 you anything you like, Lily, from a doll to a 
 lace tucker, only do not waste time in deciding 
 which." 
 
 After Frank, Lily was decidedly her uncle's 
 c 5
 
 34 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 favourite. She was both pretty and playful, and 
 there was neither danger of her fathoming any of 
 his plans, nor as his instinct told him, of thwarting 
 them if she did. Mr. Sutherland had other reasons 
 also for liking Lily, and so he did love and in- 
 dulge her, to the utter exclusion of poor Wyllie, 
 his youngest son, and the only one at that time 
 residing at the Ferns. For Wyllie was not only 
 the eleve of Evelyn, and therefore the reflection of 
 all her opinions; poor Wyllie was a cripple also, 
 and what share could a cripple hope to have in the 
 heart of the proud ambitious man, whose whole 
 life had been devoted to the one object of lifting 
 up an ancient but impoverished name to the 
 place it had once held -among the magnates of 
 the land. 
 
 " Surely, sir," cried Frank, "you will not 
 think of risking a journey to Paris in such times 
 as these." 
 
 " And why not," responded his uncle coldly, 
 " are the times out of joint that you speak so 
 doubtfully about them?" 
 
 t( Paris is out of joint at any rate; see here, 
 sir, what the Times' correspondent says, there is
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 35 
 
 210 saying the moment at which another revolu- 
 tion may be expected." 
 
 " Then I certainly shall not wait till it comes," 
 replied Mr. Sutherland, rising from his hurried 
 and hardly tasted meal. " Had the Times in its 
 omniscient wisdom told us the precise day and 
 hour in which it was to come, why one might 
 have waited perhaps ; but as it is I cannot hesi- 
 tate over chances, I must be there at once." 
 
 " I wish you would let me go instead, sir ; 
 there is less danger for a young man." 
 
 a I cannot, Frank, I have received letters 
 which make my personal presence urgent." 
 
 " One word, sir," cried Evelyn, unable to bear 
 the suspense and anxiety of her own fancies any 
 longer, "is it about Frederick?" 
 
 " No," said Mr. Sunderland, in a tone of ice, 
 " It is not about Frederick. I shall be off in an 
 hour, Frank, but I will see you before I go." 
 
 And having said thus much he disappeared 
 from the room as suddenly as he had entered it, 
 leaving the little party in much perplexity as to 
 the real motive of his journey. 
 
 " Can it be Frederick?" asked Evelyn appeal-
 
 36 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 ing with anxious eyes to Frank, as soon as Mr. 
 Sutherland's retreating footsteps were no longer 
 audible in the passage. 
 
 " No, I am sure it is not," he replied in a way 
 both kind and encouraging. " I am sure it is 
 not; do not worry yourself, dear Evelyn, if it had 
 been bad news about Fred he would have told it 
 to me at once." 
 
 " Certainly," chimed in Lily. " Do not look 
 so sad, Evy. No doubt uncle would have told 
 it all to Franzie." 
 
 Evelyn looked at her, and something like a 
 feeling of surprise passed across her mind at the 
 absolute indifference with which Lily spoke of 
 Frederick, to whom, when he was the heir and 
 well beloved son of the house, she had ever 
 shown the most devoted attachment. It was 
 not a subject, however, to be enquired into, 
 so she only asked of Frank whether he could 
 give a guess as to the motives of his uncle's 
 journey. 
 
 " I hardly like to say what I think," said 
 Frank, hesitating a little, " lest I should be mis- 
 taken; but it struck me just now that it might
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 37 
 
 be in some way connected with the affairs of M. 
 de St. Arnoul." 
 
 " What, of my poor uncle? " said Evelyn. "It 
 is very likely, as many of his relations are living 
 there. I wonder why Mr. Sutherland has been 
 so mysterious about everything connected with 
 the death of this good old man?" 
 
 " There is some mystery I know," said Frank, 
 " some wretched woman or other who is laying 
 cluim to the fortune. Was it not left entirely to 
 Fredeiick?" 
 
 " With the exception of £20,000, to be divi- 
 ded between Wyllie and me. Mr. Sutherland 
 spoke to me about it the other day. He wishes 
 to keep my share in his own hands for the 
 present, and to pay me interest upon it. I have 
 agreed, of course, for it is quite as safe with him, 
 and I should not know what to do with it if I 
 had it myself. 
 
 " Safe with my uncle!" repeated Frank, "why 
 of course it is ; what ever may be his other faults, 
 he is the very soul of honor, and money in his 
 hands is quite as safe as it would be if it were 
 lodged in the Bank of England."
 
 38 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It was the day upon which Louis Philippe lost 
 his crown, and fled from a people that his own 
 narrow policy, and grasping low ambition had 
 aioused to frenzy. He could not lay the storm 
 that he had raised, he would not face the danger 
 he had invoked — he had neither mental great- 
 ness, to yield gracefully his own designs, nor 
 mental energy to enforce them, and so he 
 gathered himself up and fled, leaving all behind 
 him in anarchy and confusion. Any account of 
 the revolution that ensued does not lie within 
 the intention of these pages, therefore it will be
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 39 
 
 sufficient to say that blood had already flowed. 
 Kather by accident than design the troops had 
 fired upon the insurgents; and some having been 
 wounded and some killed, the latter, with the 
 corpse of a woman displayed ostentatiously 
 among them, had been paraded by the light of 
 torches, and amid the hoarse cry of popular in- 
 dignation, and the irregular sounding of the 
 tocsin, on immense biers provided for the occasion, 
 through, the most crowded thoroughfares of the 
 city. A heavy column of armed men marched on 
 either side of these lugubrious funeral cars, and 
 as the procession pressed onwards towards the 
 quartier Saint Martin, small parties of soldiers 
 detached themselves from the principal body, and 
 diving into the obscurest and most central parts 
 of Paris, went from house to house calling the 
 inhabitants forth to vengeance. 
 
 Hardly, however, was such an incentive 
 needed to the fury of the people. Everywhere 
 as the procession passed, men accepted of the 
 token of death as a proof of irreconcilable enmity 
 between the government and the nation; the 
 thoroughfares were emptied as if by magic, but
 
 40 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 it was only to give place to a countless host of 
 artizans, who working silently, ceaselessly, and 
 steadily at their fearful task, succeeded so rapidly 
 in unpaving streets, erecting barricades, and pre- 
 paring the city for a state of siege, that when 
 morning at last dawned upon their labours, Paris 
 was roused by the sound of a brisk fusillade to 
 all the terrors, present and to come, of an armed 
 revolution. 
 
 Concessions, which had they been given but 
 the day before might have retarded, if they could 
 not have prevented the fall of the monarchy, 
 were now too late. Proclamations hastily put 
 forth, loosely and unsatisfactorily worded, and 
 unsigned by anything like competent authority, 
 only betrayed the weakness of the Government 
 which they could not save. They showed but 
 as a snare, and a deceit in the eyes of the people 
 and were either torn down with indignation or 
 received with contempt; those who read them 
 merely turning aside to arm themselves yet more 
 entirely for the struggle which had at last become 
 inevitable, as it ever will, when the demands 
 of a nation, whether just or the contrary, are
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 41 
 
 met by craft and duplicity on the part of its 
 rulers. In the midst of all these threatening 
 sights and sounds, Mr. Sutherland pursued his 
 way, calm and unmoved, as if the hoarse cries 
 around him were not as the one voice of a peo- 
 ple, terrible in its hour of vengeance, or as if 
 the dropping fire of musketry, here and there 
 sounding in the distance, was not the commence 
 ment of a struggle bearing fearful resemblance 
 in its present phase to that which, within his 
 own time and memory had deluged the land with 
 blood. He had entered the Rue de Lille at the 
 time when our story overtakes him, and pausing 
 now and then to examine the numbers of the 
 houses, stopped at last before a handsome lcoking 
 mansion at that end of the street which ap- 
 proaches the chamber of deputies, and enquired at 
 the porter's lodge if a Madame de St. Arnoul was 
 not residing u au seconde." The answer being in 
 the affirmative, he walked up stairs, and desiring 
 the female servant who replied to his sum- 
 mons to announce him as Mr. Sutherland, 
 entered the apartment without awaiting an 
 invitation.
 
 42 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 A lady, whose dark soft eyes and languishing 
 appearance announced her as a Creole, was re- 
 clining gracefully on a sofa, while a young child, 
 blue eyed and golden haired, and so far bearing 
 but little resemblance to her mother, half knelt 
 and half sat upon a low stool beside her. At 
 the mention of his name Madame de St. Arnoul 
 grew deadly pale, and half ro^e to greet him, 
 but finding he made no movement to respond to 
 her advances, she sank back upon her couch 
 again with a graceful air of nonchalance, partly 
 the effect of wounded pride and partly of her 
 natural manner, and merely motioning him to a 
 Jauteuil beside her, waited in silence the expla- 
 nation of his visit. It might be that Mr. 
 Sutherland felt a little taken aback by her in- 
 difference, but if he were, it was neither his 
 habit nor nature to betray it; and leaning slightly 
 on the back of the chair she had proffered to his 
 acceptance, he fixed his cold grey eyes upon her, 
 while, with a look of most insulting suspicion, 
 he observed in French : 
 
 " Am I to understand, Madame, that you are 
 the person (affecting to be the widow of the late
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 43 
 
 M. de St. Arnoul) who addressed to me a letter 
 which I received some days since in London." 
 
 There was no mistaking the tone, half of 
 ironical enquiry, half of positive unbelief, in 
 which these words were uttered. Foreigner as she 
 was, and strange and impossible as such an in- 
 sinuation must, at first have appeared to her, 
 Madame de St. Arnoul seized upon it at once, and 
 answered with indignant emphasis: 
 
 u I am the widow of M. de St. Arnoul, and 
 consequently the lady who, at his desire, and by 
 his advice, addressed to you, his brother-in-law, 
 (and, as he thought, fast friend), the letter to 
 which you allude. You perceive, sir, I am as- 
 suming you to be really that Mr. Sutherland 
 whom my dear husband has so often named to 
 me with such brotherly and affectionate remem- 
 brance." 
 
 She paused a moment, but as soon as Mr. 
 Sutherland had by a slight movement of the 
 head asserted his identity with the person men- 
 tioned, Madame de St. Arnoul rose, and with the 
 nice tact of a woman, leading forward her little 
 girl, presented her to him, saying:
 
 4 4 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " Rosalie, this is the gentleman of whom poor 
 papa has so often told us, the gentleman whom 
 he taught you to call your uncle, and who 
 would, he said he was sure, supply his place in 
 your regard by more than fatherly love and 
 kindness. Kiss his hand, my child, and tell him 
 you are prepared to give him all the respect and 
 tenderness due to one whom your father appointed 
 as your guardian, and whom he taught you to 
 regard with the obedience of a daughter." 
 
 Poor Madame de St. Arnoul had intended to 
 say u love," but the word failed her. She could 
 not even in the easy treachery of lip language 
 couple the idea of love with the hard, handsome 
 looking individual whose very attitude said, as 
 he meant it should say, all that the pharisee of 
 old might in such circumstances have uttered, 
 of doubt in her virtue and confidence in his own. 
 
 " Father," he muttered, " and daughter. 
 Humph! of course. I can have no doubt what- 
 ever of that fact. But, madame, you are aware, 
 I suppose, that to be the daughter of her father 
 does not necessarily constitute this young lady 
 heiress either of his name or fortune."
 
 HOME A>»D THE HOMELESS. 45 
 
 Without vouchsafing any direct reply to this 
 savage speech, Madame de St. Arnoul led her 
 daughter to the door, saying : 
 
 " Your bonne will be waiting for you, Rosy, 
 Good bye, and God bless you, darling." 
 
 With a heavy sense of evil impending over 
 her, she then kisse 1 the brow of her fair 
 child, closed the door behind her, and quietly 
 returned to her sofa. Mr. Sutherland mean- 
 while was impatiently pacing the room, and after 
 waiting in vain for him to speak again, she re- 
 sumed the conversation with such a calm dignity 
 of innocence in her manner, that, unconsciously, 
 he paused in his uneasy walk to listen. 
 
 " My husband, sir, assured me that even if he 
 had not made a will, Rosalie, as his only child, was 
 the legal and natural heiress of all his fortune." 
 
 " Natural enough, no doubt of that," inter- 
 posed her listener. 
 
 " Happily, however," she went on, either not 
 understanding, or not deigning to notice the 
 covert insinuation conveyed by these words, 
 which were uttered in English, " happily he 
 did not trust to that fact alone. But I need
 
 46 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 not trouble myself to tell you this," she added, 
 suddenly interrupting herself, " since you must 
 be already in possession of the letter which con- 
 tained the expression of his dying wishes, and 
 which I enclosed with my own when I announced 
 my arrival with my child in Paris." 
 
 " A letter, madame, I certainly received, but 
 you must excuse me if I venture to doubt its 
 authenticity — if I venture seriously to doubt it," 
 he repeated, as though he really were considering 
 the matter with every intention to do justice to 
 all parties. " It is his seal certainly — but his 
 hand — pooh ! pooh ! Madame, unless you guided 
 his pen by force, the hand of my poor Edward 
 never had touched that paper." 
 
 " I know well," said the young widow tear- 
 fully, " that his poor hand shook fearfully, for 
 he was so reduced by his illness that the only 
 marvel was that he could write at all. Nothing, 
 in fact, but the most intense affection for his 
 wife and child could have given him strength to 
 do so." 
 
 " The writing is not that of M. de St. Arnoul, 
 and even if it were, it would go for nothing, since
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 47 
 
 a man at his age, and in the agonies of death as 
 he was, could be made to say anything they 
 chose by those about him." 
 
 " I did not even see the letter until after he 
 had expired," murmured the wife with an 
 hysterical sob, which she could not entirely re- 
 press at this direct mention of his death. 
 
 " And if, as that letter stated, he had been 
 married for so mauy years," pursued Mr. Suther- 
 land, " how was it that he never said so, or 
 that in all his former letters, and I have re- 
 ceived and luckily preserved a good many of 
 them, he never once, directly or indirectly, 
 alluded to the fact?" 
 
 Madame de St. Arnoul grew scarlet first, but 
 instantly afterwards became deadly pale. 
 
 " He feared to offend you," she answered, after 
 a little instant of hesitation, and then all her hot 
 eastern blood boiling over at the civil sceptism 
 of the smile which met this rejoinder, she walked 
 across the room with the air of a queen, opened 
 an escritoire at the further end, and extracted 
 from it a morsel of paper, which she put in his 
 hand, saying, — " Is not this a sufficient proof of
 
 48 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 our marriage, even tho', as I acknowledge, my 
 poor Edward did shrink in the very weakness of 
 his brotherly affection from inflicting until the 
 last moment the knowledge of the disappoint- 
 ment on you?" 
 
 "Pah!" he replied contemptuously, " a mere 
 piece of waste paper, and good for nothing but 
 the lighting of a cigar," and suiting the action 
 to the word, he deliberately laid it among the 
 burning embers in the grate. 
 
 Madame de St. Arnoul sprang forward to the 
 rescue, but he held her back with his strong 
 arm, and not until the document was reduced to 
 ashes did he release his captive, nor even then 
 until he had stamped his foot upon the frag- 
 ments so as to make himself certain they were 
 entirely destroyed. 
 
 The unhappy woman sank bank in speech- 
 less sorrow on her chair, but as the consequences 
 to her child of this cruel deed rushed yet more, 
 fully upon her mind, she wrung her hands, ex- 
 claiming,— 
 
 " Rosalie, my child, my child, I have ruined 
 thee! But oh! my God, whoever could have
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 49 
 
 thought that one whom poor Edward loved so 
 well, would have proved himself such a villain?" 
 
 " Who, indeed?" retorted Mr. Sutherland with 
 a diabolical sneer. 
 
 "But they shall know it yet," cried his 
 victim, roused to frenzy by his taunting manner. 
 " To the whole world will I proclaim it, that the 
 man who writes himself a prince among the 
 merchants, could yet stoop to the meanness of 
 destroying a legal document for the sake of 
 defrauding a poor babe, the child of his friend 
 and brother, of the name and fortune that her 
 father left her." 
 
 At the word legal document Mr. Sutherland 
 looked sharply at his victim, and for an instant 
 it occurred to him that if she were at all a woman 
 of sense and spirit, the burning of her marriage 
 certificate might prove a rash experiment, 
 even to win the enormous fortune, which was 
 the stake he played for. But he was seldom 
 mistaken in a countenance, and another glance 
 at hers assured him that he had been right in 
 his estimate of her character, and that with all 
 her eastern pride and impetuosity, Madame de 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 St. Arnoul was not only as innocent as a child of 
 all practical knowledge of the world, but even 
 more incapable than many children of acquiring 
 it by experience. Acting on this knowledge, 
 therefore, he replied with an assumption of in- 
 difference infinitely greater than any amount of 
 security he was really feeling at the moment. 
 
 " And what if no one will believe you, Ma- 
 dame? What if I choose to deny whatever you 
 may choose to assert upon the subject? If you 
 say I destroyed this paper, and I declare I did 
 not, which, think you, will theEnglish worshippers 
 of wealth and station prefer to believe, the 'Prince 
 among their merchants/ or the poor and friendless 
 adventuress whom chance or poverty has carried 
 to their shores." 
 
 Bitterly did it now come home to Madame de 
 St. Arnoul's understanding, that in all probability 
 her enemy judged correctly, and feeling just as 
 indeed he had intended that she should feel, 
 helpless as an infant in his hands, she yielded to 
 her impetuous, tropical nature, and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 For a while he suffered her to w r eep in silence,
 
 ROME AND THE HOMKLESS. 51 
 
 but as soon as he fancied her thoroughly exhaus- 
 ted by her passion, he once more ventured to ap- 
 proach for the purpose of whispering such over- 
 tures in her ear, as he hoped in her state of 
 terror and depression, she would joyfully accept 
 of. 
 
 For once, however, he had over calculated his 
 power ; Madame de St. ArnouTs pride was stronger 
 than her prudence even yet, and her dark cheek 
 glowed again, and her dark eyes gleamed with 
 passion as she answered : 
 
 " Wed my Rose to one of your sons ! purchase 
 the rights of my child with my child herself! 
 No, sir, never! And upon which of your hope- 
 ful progeny," she went on in tones of bitter irony, 
 regardless, in her passion of the pale cheek and 
 flashing eye of the insulted father, "upon which 
 of your hopeful progeny, may I ask, would you 
 have me bestow my only treasure — my flower 
 among the flowers— my precious Rosa? Is it 
 upon the young scamp who I hear has left his 
 father's house to revel among gamblers, or the 
 pale unhappy boy, the victim, it is said of a 
 disease that may cripple him for life — upon which 
 D 2 
 
 LIBRAE 
 
 S&i*uw»
 
 52 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 sir, which ? Answer, that I may know the worst 
 at once." 
 
 " Upon which you please, proud Jezabel ! I 
 thought to do you a service, but it must be as 
 you like, of course. Yet let me tell you," added 
 Mr. Sutherland proudly, " that Frederick Suther- 
 land, with the thousands he will inherit from his 
 father, and the name which he takes from a hun- 
 dred ancestors would have been no contemptible 
 match for your daughter, even if she had (which 
 she has not), any right to the name and fortune 
 you are trying to usurp." 
 
 u That may be your opinion, sir, but," said 
 Madame de St. Arnoul, " you must permit me to 
 keep my own. My child shall have all or nothing. 
 I will make no base compromise between her 
 honour and her interests. She shall have her 
 father's name with her father's fortune, or she 
 shall declare to the whole world the villany of 
 which she has been marie a victim. I know," 
 she continued, as she saw his eye glancing with 
 a look of covert triumph towards the expiring 
 embers in the grate, " I am quite aware that you 
 have destroyed one document, but that is not all,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 53 
 
 the marriage certificate indeed is gone, yet 
 happily the will remains." 
 
 If Mr. Sutherland could have been betrayed 
 into the weakness of showing his emotions, he 
 certainly would have yielded to it then. But 
 now, as ever, he was master of his own feelings, 
 and neither in look nor manner did he betray 
 the disagreeable surprise he actually was feeling, 
 as he repeated, less apparently for the informa- 
 tion he really intended to obtain by the question, 
 than for the satisfaction of expressing his con- 
 temptuous incredulity ; 
 
 " The will — aye, indeed, the will — and so 
 you look to the will to right you, do you?" 
 
 " I do, sir," she replied, and then went on 
 with a very injudicious overflow of confidence. 
 " That at least can hardly be disputed, for it was 
 most carefully drawn up. And he thought of 
 you even then, ungrateful as you are. he thought 
 of you on his death bed, and not only bequeathed 
 a handsome portion to each of your children, but 
 (so fearful was he of distressing you by disturbing 
 any of your financial arrangements) he pre- 
 pared an especial clause by which until Rosalie
 
 54 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 was actually in England you were not to be called 
 upon to give any account of the sums which had 
 been committed to your keeping." 
 
 A wild gleam of pleasure in Mr. Sutherland's 
 eyes which not even his strong will could for a 
 moment entirely repress, caused Madame de St. 
 Arnoul again to feel that she had committed 
 some imprudence, which might possibly have a 
 fatal effect upon the fortunes of her child 
 
 Helplessly she paused, and for one short second 
 the wild idea of appealing to his mercy crossed 
 her mind, but the imploring glance she cast upon 
 him, was met by a look so expressive of satanic 
 will and power, that her very soul seemed to 
 wither away beneath it, and a shadow as of death 
 itself, fell upon her cheek and brow as he re- 
 plied : 
 
 " I have heard you to the end, Madame, and 
 therefore it is only fair that I should now expect 
 the same courtesy at your hands. You have, ,, 
 he continued coldly, "rejected the sole mode of 
 settling our several pretensions to the fortune of 
 M. de St. Arnoul, which the interests of my own 
 family would permit me to offer, and not content
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 55 
 
 with rejection only, you have pointed your refusal 
 with all the small malice that your woman's wit 
 suggested. So far so good, you have done as 
 you thought proper, but having done so you must 
 also understand that every chance of compromise 
 is over now and for ever. For mark me well, I 
 have possession, and possession is power, and I will 
 use that power to the utmost. 1 will use it as 
 the kite does to pounce upon the sparrow : as 
 the butcher to immolate the lamb ; as the mid- 
 night murderer to assassinate his victim; I will 
 use it without mercy to sweep away your fortune 
 and your child's — to rob you of the sympathy of 
 the good — to wrap you in the same obloquy with 
 the bad, and by branding you as an evil woman 
 and adventuress, to pay you back in the shame 
 of your own child, for every sarcasm you have 
 uttered against mine." 
 
 A shriek burst from Madame de St. ArnouFs 
 lips, and she wrung her hands in agony. 
 
 " Rosalie," she cried, " my innocent Rosalie ! 
 Oh, sir, you could not, you would not be so 
 cruel." 
 
 u And wherefore not?" he answered coldly ;
 
 56 HOME AND TIIE HOMELESS. 
 
 " or why should you complain, since it is your own 
 words that have aroused the demon in me. You 
 knew not what you were doing, perhaps, but 
 having done it, rest assured your challenge has 
 been accepted, and that from this hour until 
 that of death, war to the knife is the word be- 
 tween us." 
 
 Madame de St. Arnonl would again have spoken 
 but as she opened her lips to do so, the stir and 
 tumult of the emente, which hitherto had only 
 reached them like the hoarse murmur of a dis- 
 tant sea, seemed suddenly to burst into all the 
 living energy of a great people's wrath, and up 
 from the street below the voices of ten thousand 
 men came in one prolonged, discordant shout upon 
 their ears; the rushing of twice ten thousand 
 feet seemed to fill the city, the street, the very 
 room they sat in, with a volume of harsh sound, 
 which would have been awful in its depth, and 
 breadth, and fullness, even if it had conveyed 
 no prophetic warning to the ear, but which at 
 such a moment as the present was yet more 
 awful in its deep significance as the movement 
 of a betrayed and indignant nation. Every now
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 57 
 
 and then cries of " A has la regence" " Vive 
 la republique" " A la poste les corrompues" 
 told not only that the monarchy had ceased to 
 be, hut that its feeble and inefficient substitute, 
 the regency, having been rejected al?o, Paris, 
 and all France with Paris, was trembling on the 
 verge of a revolution as bloody, perhaps, and 
 fearful, as that which half a century before had 
 made the inheritance of St. Louis a reproach 
 among the nations. 
 
 Madame de St. Arnoul forgot her brother-in- 
 law and her resentment, to clasp her little girl, 
 who came running terrified into the room, to her 
 bosom, and Mr. Sutherland himself had juss 
 walked to the window to watch the progress of 
 the increasing outbreak, when the wife of the 
 concierge rushed up-stairs, exclaiming : 
 
 u Madame, madame, for the love of the ' Bon 
 Dieu 1 save yourself. The sans culottes are in 
 the house, and they will rob and murder every 
 aristocrat they can discover. Fly, I beseech 
 you, or at least cry out, " A has la regence I A 
 has GuizotV If you don't want to be shot, cry 
 out, 'A has GuizotV Mon Dieu, they are 
 
 d 5
 
 58 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 coming! they are on the stairs ! l A has Guizot! 
 A has Guizot ! ' " 
 
 And still shouting every gathering cry of the 
 popular party that her fear would permit her to 
 remember, the terrified creature again rushed 
 away, vanishing as suddenly as she had appeared. 
 
 An awful pause ensued, but as the clamour 
 below stairs increased, Madame de St. Arnoul 
 clasped Kosalie yet more closely to her bosom, 
 while her eyes unconsciously sought those of Mr. 
 Sutherland. A strange light, uncertain, but 
 very strange, was glittering in his cold blue 
 eye, and then, as if only in answer to her ap- 
 pealing glances, he hastily exclaimed: 
 
 " This place is no longer safe ! The mob are 
 in the house, and they will soon be joined by 
 hundreds who are coming from the chamber of 
 deputies, rind must pass this way. You should 
 depart at once, madame; another moment, and 
 it will be too late." 
 
 For only answer to his recommendation, 
 Madame de St. Arnoul pressed her lips to the 
 forehead of her child, and the look she cast upon 
 him seemed to say :
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 59 
 
 "We are alone — a woman and a child — how 
 can we venture?" 
 
 " At such a moment," he continued, still re- 
 plying to those speaking glances, and with the 
 air of one who had no time to give consideration 
 to the subject, " at such a crisis as the present, 
 every private enmity should be forgotten. 
 Whatever else you may be, you are a woman, 
 and as a man it is my duty to protect you. It 
 is for you to say if you can trust yourself with 
 me." 
 
 The words seemed frank and fair, and so too, 
 now that the first strange look had passed away 
 was the expression of his cut stone features, 
 nevertheless Madame de St. Arhoul might have 
 hesitated a little longer, if unfortunately the 
 crowd of men without, had not conquered all fear 
 of the one more real foe within, and when he drew 
 her arm in his, and took Rosalie on the other side, 
 saying, " She will be safer with me," she did not 
 venture to make any opposition, but suffered 
 him to lead her in silence from the chamber. 
 
 Half a dozen ruffians, looking all the more 
 ghastly for the black powder stains and smears
 
 60 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 of blood, which betrayed the share they had 
 taken in the recent struggle, met them on the 
 landing place with shouts of: 
 
 "Nous voulons Guizotl a Venfer Guizotl 
 We will have his head, if we go to the devil to 
 fetch it!" 
 
 " Allons, mes enfantsl" said Mr. Sutherland, 
 shoving his way among them, " of course you 
 will go there in good time, but there is no need 
 to hurry. Chances are that Guizot is half way 
 out of Paris already, and you will miss him alto- 
 gether if you stay here longer. To the gates, 
 and watch for him there. France expects this 
 duty from you. Vive la republique ! and a bas 
 Guizot ! a bas la regence ! a bas every base son 
 of France who does not hate tyrants and love 
 the people !" 
 
 A loud shout greeted this exposition of his po- 
 litical opinions, and taking advantage of the 
 moment, Mr. Sutherland cleared the crowd, gained 
 the porter's lodge in safety, and without further 
 opposition led his companions into the street 
 beyond. 
 
 Once there, Madame de St. Arnoul discovered,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 61 
 
 as from his momentary glance through the win- 
 dow her companion had probably found out long 
 before, that the tumult which had caused their 
 sudden panic, was not nearly so close as they 
 had imagined, but was coming up from the di- 
 rection of the Chamber of Deputies, where 
 the chief struggle of the day had been carried 
 on. 
 
 Crowds indeed were passing through the Rue 
 de Lille, but they were in scattered groups rather 
 than in masses, and were hurrying on to swell 
 the tide setting in towards the Hotel de Ville, 
 whither the infuriated rabble were at that moment 
 conducting the self devoted men, who for the next 
 three nights and days, were to oppose themselves 
 with no other weapons than such as their elo- 
 quence and good cause could give them, to 
 schemes of anarchy and vengeance, which if they 
 had been put into execution, would have plunged 
 Paris into mourning and overwhelmed her 
 with disgrace. 
 
 Why did Mr. Sutherland follow this rabble 
 rout instead of endeavouring to recede from it? 
 Madame de St. Arnoul, could not refrain from
 
 62 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 asking herself the question even in the midst of 
 the haste and confusion, which took away her 
 breath and almost deprived her of the possession 
 of her senses. 
 
 " Surely," she at last ventured to remonstrate, 
 as they turned into the u Rue du Bac," " surely 
 we are approaching too near that terrible crowd ; 
 would it not be safer to go back?" 
 
 But Mr. Sutherland either did not or would 
 not hear the question, and with his powerful 
 grasp upon her arm, and his strong fixed will 
 still urging on her footsteps, he made her 
 feel herself so absolutely in his power, that she 
 suffered him to hurry her forward without further 
 opposition, until they reached the " Quai Vol- 
 taire," where they fell in with the very crowd 
 which it seemed as if it should have been their 
 express object to avoid. 
 
 It was as if they had plunged into the very 
 vortex of a whirlpool. The living tide of ex- 
 cited, angry human beings, with which they had 
 so rashly mingled, came pouring down upon them 
 mass after mass, wave over wave, not rolling 
 past and leaving them where they were, but
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 63 
 
 bearing them along with it, upwards and onwards 
 in spite of themselves, lifting them from off their 
 very feet, depriving them it almost seemed of all 
 power of volition, forcing them, whether they 
 would or not, onwards and onwards still; now 
 well nigh stifled and upset by a backward move- 
 ment or sudden stoppage of the crowd in front, 
 now pushed violently forward by the pressure of 
 that which was following in the rear, but com- 
 pelled in either case, resistlessly as a straw float- 
 ing upon the waters, to yield obedience to the 
 impulse. 
 
 Onwards they were borne, through " the Quais 
 Voltaire, Malaquais, Monnais," across the " Pont 
 Neuf," to the u Quai Megisserie," the " Place 
 de la Greve," over a path rough with broken 
 weapons or slippery with blood, or horrible, here 
 and there with prostrate figures, telling by their 
 terrible immobility of eye and limb, of the fate 
 that had come so suddenly upon them.. And 
 still as they went, wild forms were rushing at 
 their side, and naked brawny arms were waving 
 over them, and pike and cutlass were flashing 
 within an inch of their dazzled eyes, and pale
 
 64 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 faces, with close set teeth and eyes, glaring in all 
 the frenzy of anger or enthusiasm, were closing 
 continually around them, while the names of the 
 favorite leaders of the day, of Dupont, Lamartine, 
 de TEure, d'Arago, mingled with denunciations 
 against the recent monarchy and its upholders, 
 filled the air, and floated like a canopy of harsh 
 sounds above them. 
 
 Madame de St. Arnoul felt as if her senses had 
 already left her, and closing her eyes like one in 
 the agony of drowning, she suffered herself to be 
 carried resistlessly along wherever the crowd 
 conducted her; nor was she even conscious, so 
 completely was she bewildered, that Mr. Suther- 
 land had dropt her arm, until either by an in- 
 tentional push on his part, or by the mere fact 
 of being left to her own unassisted efforts, she was 
 flung hopelessly on the ground. Another instant 
 and she would have been trampled beyond all 
 chance of recognition under foot, but a woman 
 in the garb of a Sister of Charity darted into 
 the very midst of the crowd, seized her as if she 
 had been an infant, and as much by energy of 
 will as by mere strength of body, carried her
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 65 
 
 clear off to the court-yard of a house hard by, 
 and closed the gates behind her. 
 
 Long before this rescue came, however, the 
 crowd had hurried Mr. Sutherland out of sight, 
 and not for a moment did it occur to him that 
 anything less than a miracle could have saved 
 her. 
 
 " Dead for a ducat !" he exclaimed, and catching 
 Rosalie in his arms, he stood for a second liter- 
 ally stemming in the strength of his fancied 
 triumph the mighty masses that poured down 
 upon bim, then yielding wilfully to tbe pressure, 
 he suffered himself and the child to be borne 
 along, he knew not whither, and he cared as 
 little.
 
 66 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The night wind swept darkly and coldly across 
 an open heath not far from London, now coming 
 up in gusts which took away the breath, and 
 shook every tree and shrub it touched, as if with 
 a sudden terror, now wailing low among the 
 heather and the furze, as if a spirit of sadness 
 floated on its wings; whilst both the sharp sudden 
 gust, and the long creature-like moaning of the 
 storm, found fearful responses in the bosom of 
 one at least of the two travellers who were at 
 that moment abroad upon the common. The 
 elder of these two was a tall, strong man, with a
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 67 
 
 face more fearful in its calm intensity of purpose, 
 than the most turbulent expression of passion 
 could have made it. He held by the" hand a 
 child, shivering and shrinking like a sensitive 
 plant from the touch of the cold wind, but yet 
 more perhaps from terror of the stern, silent 
 man at whose side she was compelled to walk. 
 
 The moon was nearly at the full, but it had 
 little power on such a night as the one which we 
 are describing. Now and then indeed it came 
 fitfully into view, but only to be blotted out 
 again by a mass of heavy clouds which the storm 
 king hurled before it, and the pale passing gleam 
 seemed then to have served no other purpose 
 than to increase by contrast the previous dark- 
 ness of the road, and the ghastly loneliness of 
 the surrounding scene. So thought the elder 
 traveller as he looked around, but the child saw 
 nothing. She listened indeed to the wind as it 
 went moaning past her, until every tale of super- 
 natural horror that she had ever known came 
 back upon her imagination, and made her shud- 
 der as if a thousand spirits were riding on the 
 blast; but still she saw nothing, and nothing in
 
 68 HOME AftD THE HOMELESS. 
 
 fact was it intended she should see; for not only- 
 had a handkerchief been tied tightly across her 
 eyes, but a thick veil had been also wrapt around 
 her bonnet, and thus, Avhile to a passing travel- 
 ler she might have seemed but as one guarded 
 by more than ordinary care, against the visiting 
 of the night wind, she was in reality, and she 
 knew it well, neither more nor less than a cap- 
 tive led blindfold to her doom. 
 
 What that doom might prove to be, she, poor 
 child, in her wildest imaginings never could have 
 guessed. Death was the utmost that she 
 dreamed of. And she knew not nor could she 
 dream that death would have been a mercy and 
 a grace compared to the lot that was intended 
 her in life. 
 
 The man who conducted her continued in the 
 mean time to move steadily on towards a light 
 which he at least could see, tho' she could not, 
 gleaming faintly in the distance. It might have 
 been a Will-o'-the Wisp for all the show it made 
 on that dark common, but he knew well it was 
 a signal light set to guide his footsteps, and 
 without troubling himself to seek the path,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 69 
 
 if path there was, he dragged his unhappy little 
 prisoner right on in the direction of this beacon, 
 through muddy slough, and briar, and brush- 
 wood, with the most reckless indifference as to 
 all that she might be suffering from the difficul- 
 ties of the way. He arrived at length within 
 a couple of yards of the cottage from whence 
 the light was gleaming, and there he halted. It 
 was a long low building, half inn, half farm 
 house, set in a solitary nook, far apart from any 
 of the roads or paths by which the other parts 
 of the common were intersected, and still more 
 effectually concealed from public observation by 
 the thick clumps of ash and fir trees with which 
 it was almost entirely surrounded. A board, 
 bearing the sign of a red cow, from whence it 
 derived its name of " The Old Eed House," with 
 an inscription beneath, purporting that within 
 was to be found refreshment for man and beast 
 hung over the principal doorway, and a neglected 
 garden in front, separated from the common by 
 a broken paling, was filled with choking weeds 
 and straggling briars, among which a solitary 
 monthly rose tree, sole remnant of some former
 
 70 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 state of prosperity, might still be seen, wreathing 
 both wall and window with clusters of that bright 
 flower, which lends a grace to the humblest dwel- 
 ling of the poor, from the earliest hours of spring 
 to the latest days of autumn. 
 
 el Hark ye !" said the man, after he had paused 
 in his walk sufficiently long to recover breath, 
 " hark ye !" he repeated, in a tone so deep and 
 so sepulchral that she quailed as if it had actually 
 issued from a tomb, " I am about to bring you 
 to yonder cottage. Why do you shiver and 
 shake? Do you think I am going to murder 
 you?" 
 
 Poor child ! Very truly might she have an- 
 swered that she did not only think it, but feel 
 certain of it. She did not speak, however, and 
 only showed her consciousness that he had done 
 so, by one faint ineffectual effort to check the 
 shivering of her mortal anguish, while he went 
 on in a tone of impatient scorn: — 
 
 " Pshaw ! the time when cruel uncles murdered 
 and supped on their injured nieces are (more's the 
 pity) no longer in existence. We don't do these 
 things now, whatever we might like to do, and so
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 71 
 
 long as you obey my directions to the letter, — but, 
 mark me, I only say so long as you do that, — 
 your life will be as safe for me, as ever it was 
 under your mother's roof." 
 
 A low cry burst from the child's lips at this 
 unceremonious naming of her mother;. It was 
 an involuntary cry forced from her by the sudden 
 recollection of what she had been and of what 
 she was at present, but it was repented of almost 
 at the moment of its utterance, for clutching 
 her arm with a violence that renewed all her 
 previous terror for her life, Mr. Sutherland 
 said, in a deep hoarse voice, and with a terrible 
 oath : 
 
 " Another such a howl as that, and I will 
 wring your neck off, and bury you just where 
 you stand. Leave off shivering, will you, and 
 tell me what they called you, — Rosalie de St. 
 Arnoul ?" 
 
 The child made a gesture of assent. 
 
 " St. Arnoul is not really your name, nor 
 Rosalie either, and if you have any value for 
 your miserable life you will never name either of 
 them again. Do you understand?" he added,
 
 72 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 shaking her by way of enforcing an answer, and 
 thus rudely invited, Rosalie sobbed forth, — 
 
 "I won't if I can help it; but if they ask 
 me?" 
 
 u Have you no other name to which you would 
 find it as easy to answer ?" 
 
 " Papa always called me Aileen. It was my 
 aunt's name, and it is my name also. He liked 
 it better because of that; and besides, he thought 
 Rosalie so long for petting." 
 
 A sudden pang shot right through her con- 
 ductor's bosom at this little picture which the 
 child had so unconsciously presented to his 
 imagination of the aged father and the petted 
 child; that father whom he had once called his 
 friend, and whose child nevertheless he was now 
 plotting remorselessly to deprive of her inheri- 
 tance and to consign to the misery of a life of 
 sin. 
 
 Probably the same image of the father whom 
 she had lost for ever was in Rosalie's mind as 
 well, for some quiet tears rose to her eves and be- 
 dewed the handkerchief that bound them, but she 
 did not dare to discover her emotion, though it
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 73 
 
 was a minute or more before she completely 
 succeeded in swallowing it down. Her com- 
 panion, however, had less difficulty in controlling 
 his sensations, and after that one pang over the 
 betrayed friendship of the father, and the intended 
 ruin of the child, he never vouchsafed to give 
 another to the subject, but pursuing the path he 
 had already traced out for himself, with all the 
 reckless intensity of purpose, which was a por- 
 tion of his nature, he continued : — 
 
 u I will tell the person in whose care I am 
 going to leave you, that your name is Aileen 
 Grey, and you must yourself assure them of the 
 fact, while to every other question you will re- 
 fuse an answer. You will neither tell them who 
 you are, nor whence you came, nor whether you 
 have relations, or whether you have none. An 1 
 none you really have in fact, for mark me well 
 child ! Edouard de St. Arnoul may have 
 chosen to call himself your father, but in 
 reality you are no child of his, and it will be 
 a crime against the law of the land to retain 
 his name." 
 
 " But it is mama's name also," said the child 
 VOL I. E
 
 74 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 unable entirely to repress her feelings at this 
 passing strange assertion. 
 
 " Your mother had no more right to it than 
 you have, and if it had been discovered that she 
 had retained it after M. de St. Arnold's death, she 
 would have been severely punished. She is dead, 
 however, so it does not much matter as far as 
 she is concerned, but as for you, you are in my 
 power, and your very life depends upon your 
 silence. Do you comprehend?" 
 
 " Yes," stammered Rosalie, though in fact she 
 was only growing more and more bewildered as 
 each instant seemed to fold her deeper in a 
 mystery so like a terrible dream that she could 
 hardly even yet believe she was still in her 
 waking senses. 
 
 " I should hope you do," Mr. Sutherland 
 replied, catching rather by intuition than 
 by actual exercise of his ears, the hesitating 
 affirmative, as it fell from her lips. " I should 
 hope so, for life and death are depending on 
 your obedience. So long as you are silent upon 
 every event of your past life without exception, 
 I undertake to protect you; but the instant you
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 75 
 
 break this rule I will abandon you to your fate. 
 And do not flatter yourself that because you do 
 not see me, therefore I am not near^ T ou; on the 
 contrary, I shall be ever within call. Not a 
 word, not a look, hardly a thought, or even a 
 dream of yours will escape my knowledge. I 
 shall see all, hear all, know all, and if need be, 
 avenge all; therefore beware! Once more I 
 say, beware of every word you utter!" 
 
 If Mr. Sutherland's object was to terrify the 
 child into silence he certainly chose the right 
 way to do it. The very vagueness of his warn- 
 ings gave them an additional element of horror 
 to her childish imagination, while there was that 
 in his voice and eye when he spoke of vengeance 
 which imparted perfect faith both in his will and 
 power to ensure its execution. 
 
 From that moment, whether by night or by 
 day, the unhappy child never felt again as if she 
 were really alone. By day she saw a spy or 
 emissary of her uncle's in every creature that 
 approached her ; at night she felt as if he were 
 actually at her side, bei^g clothed to her fevered 
 imagination, in all the additional terrors of an 
 
 e 2
 
 76 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 invisible presence; his arm ever raised to strike, 
 his voice ever audible in each distant murmur. 
 Nay, the very stillness of the hours of repose 
 brought it with yet more awful distinctness to 
 her ears. His eyes (that was the worst of all) 
 his eyes ever glaring on her from out the dark- 
 ness, prying into all her actions, and reading, as 
 he said they should, every secret of her panting 
 bosom. There was little chance amid such dread 
 fears as these, that she would betray either his 
 secret or her own, the real danger being that 
 body or mind would give way beneath the un- 
 natural strain thus put upon them, and that the 
 grave would be opened for her before her time, 
 or the mad-house receive her living. 
 
 Had she died for it, she could not (so terrified 
 was she) have uttered a syllable in reply to his 
 last speech, but the shudder that passed over her 
 frame was more satisfactory to her uncle of her 
 future silence than the most audible assurance 
 to that effect could possibly have been, and feel- 
 ing certain then that he held her mind as com- 
 pletely in bondage as her body, he moved a little 
 nearer to the red house, placed her in the deep
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 77 
 
 shadow of its overhanging eaves, and stepping 
 forward by himself, tapped lightly at the door. 
 A window just over the spot where Rosalie was 
 standing, was opened at this signal, and the 
 harsh voice of an old woman cried : 
 
 u Who'se below? Be's it you, Jack?" 
 
 u Neither Jack nor Jill," replied Mr. Suther- 
 land: " is Dick Daredevil within?" 
 
 A low murmur as of persons holding a whis- 
 pered consultation in the passage, followed ; after 
 which the front door was cautiously unbarred, 
 and just sufficiently opened to admit the harsh 
 face of the hag, who had answered from the win- 
 dow, peering suspiciously into the outer darkness, 
 in order to ascertain if the visitor were alone. 
 
 " There is no one with me," said Mr. Suther- 
 land impatiently, " open the door at once, woman, 
 and tell Dick Daredevil Mr. Grey is here." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Grey, is it," she replied, as if the 
 name were not altogether unfamiliar to her ear. 
 u Here, Dick, you're wanted," she added looking 
 back over her shoulder, while she continued, 
 though with some deliberation, to undo the re- 
 maining fastenings of the door.
 
 78 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 In obedience to this summons, the person whom 
 she addressed as Dick, and who had probably 
 been a concealed listener to the whole conversa- 
 tion, now came forward, and by aiding the old 
 porteress with the bolts and fastenings soon 
 enabled his visitor to enter. 
 
 Dick Daredevil was a man of perhaps forty 
 years of age, short, stout, and burly, with more 
 of the rogue than the absolute villain, in his face, 
 while there was even a strong dash of good na- 
 ture visible in the cunning twinkle of his small 
 black eye. 
 
 " Always werry happy to see you, sir," he 
 began as soon as ever the door was open, " won't 
 you walk in and take a airing by the fire. It 
 must be precious cold outside, it must, with that 
 'ere north wind a blowing across the common, 
 sharp enough to clip the daisies without scissors." 
 
 " Send that old hag away," said Mr. Suther- 
 land without vouchsafing a more direct reply to 
 this hospitable invitation. " Send her out of 
 sight and hearing both," he added, " for I have 
 come upon business which admits neither of eyes 
 nor ears save theirs for whom it is intended."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 79 
 
 " Be off, old Judy," said the man addressing 
 himself without further parley to the withered 
 portress of the mansion who had evidently been 
 lingering in the passage, with a view to picking 
 up as much information concerning the objectT of 
 the stranger's visit as the dimmed faculties of 
 a pre mature old age (the consequence of poverty 
 and dissipation), could convey to her understand- 
 ing. " Why don't you cut your lucky at once, 
 you old sinner, when you see as the gemman don't 
 want none of your company." 
 
 Thus rudely admonished the old dame was 
 compelled to beat a retreat, which she did, how- 
 ever, very reluctantly, muttering to herself all 
 the time. 
 
 " Cock him up for a gemman indeed — wot a 
 fine gemman he is. Sinner for sooth ! My 
 stars — and if all were knowed as I knows I 
 wonder which is the worst sinner of the two. 
 Poor Judy as sins for meat and drink and sich 
 like necessities of life, or the fine gemman as sins 
 for the sake of sinning, and not because he's a 
 wantin of his wittles." 
 
 She vanished into her own department in the
 
 80 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 back settlements of the house by the time she 
 had got thus far, taking care, however, to slam 
 the kitchen door violently after her by way of 
 climax to her argument. Mr. Sutherland waited 
 yet a moment longer to make sure that she 
 would not incontinently re-appear, and then 
 darting once more to the exterior of the mansion 
 he seized hold of Rosalie and pushed her 
 violently before him into the passage where 
 Dick still remained awaiting his good pleasure. 
 
 "Why bless us and save us, what have we 
 here?" cried the latter in some astonishment. 
 " I say, mister Grey, is this 'ere skeared thing 
 that you've brought us, a dove or a raven, 
 which?" 
 
 " Dove ! " said the gentleman, thus addressed, 
 shortly and emphatically responding. 
 
 "Humph!" replied Dick, "won't be so long, if 
 she's to bide with me, I suspect. Twenty-four- 
 hours of the old red house is enough to blacken 
 the brightest wings that ever were wore by 
 angels, if such critturs there be, and they really 
 have wings as the story-books tell us." 
 
 u Black or white, — put her up some where for
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 81 
 
 the present, can't you?" said the other sa- 
 vagely. " I must speak to you alone." 
 
 " Here, Hetty," cried the man raising his 
 voice, " not you, old blear eye ! " he politely 
 added as Judy peered out at the sound of his 
 voice, from the lower regions of the house. 
 " Send Hetty, will you? and keep your own bag 
 of bones out of sight and hearing if you can. 
 Now, Eesther ! " 
 
 And Eesther, obedient to the summons, stood 
 before him in a moment. 
 
 Seventeen years were probably the outside 
 that she counted on her actual age, though how 
 old she was in the worst ways of knowledge of 
 the world it might have been more difficult to 
 guess. Vice and starvation had already stamped 
 a look of premature age upon her youth, sharp- 
 ening her well-cut features, and giving them an 
 expression of care and forethought very difficult 
 to associate with our ideas of seventeen. There 
 was much latent fire and energy in her large 
 black eyes, and yet a look withal of listlessness 
 and inertness, as if the energy had been crushed 
 and the mind grown aimless from the mere want 
 
 E 5
 
 82 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 of anything worth aiming at, having been pre- 
 sented to its acceptance. Nor was this two-fold 
 expression the sole evidence offered by those 
 splendid orbs of the two-fold character of their 
 owner, for when they were lifted to your face 
 they might have struck you as being both pas- 
 sionate and bold, but when on the contrary they 
 were veiled beneath their heavy lashes, then 
 they threw a shadow half sorrowful, half sullen, 
 over all her features, that seemed to plead for 
 poor Esther with you, and to v, hisper that the 
 bold, bad look was not the native growth of the 
 heart within, but of the external circumstances 
 which had surrounded and controlled the devel- 
 opment of its passions. At the moment when she 
 obeyed Dick's summons, the good seemed upper- 
 most both in her face and feelings, and the lazy 
 indifference with which she awaited his com- 
 mands, more than belied by the quick sharp 
 glance, that ever and anon was directed towards 
 the new comers, betrayed her vivid anxiety as to 
 the object of their visit. 
 
 " Take that ere young'un up to roost, Hetty," 
 said the man in a rough but not unkindly voice.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 83 
 
 " Let her bide with you for this night, and see 
 that Judy has nothing to say to her, if you 
 value the old gal's existence. She's getting so 
 blasted curious that she'll have her whistle 
 stopped for her some of these days, just to learn 
 her to mind her own affairs for the future. You 
 can tell her I said so if you likes it, and now 
 take the kinchen away, will you, and keep your 
 own ears shut if you can, my gal, for they are a 
 trine too sharp for my taste already." 
 
 Something like a look of compassion crossed 
 the girl's hard, handsome features as Dick finished 
 this speech, but she made no other reply than 
 by taking the hand which Rosalie submissively 
 presented, and drawing her towards a kind of 
 ladder staircase at the end of the passage, which 
 led to the rooms above. 
 
 Unluckily the little girl stumbled almost at 
 the very first step she took, and notwithstanding 
 her pity, Esther could not forbear exclaiming 
 impatiently : 
 
 u Well I never ! Why, little stoopid, did you 
 never go up-stairs in the dark before, that you 
 make such a to do about it?"
 
 84 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " I can't see," said the child in a most piteous 
 voice, for she was frightened at the tone in 
 which this expostulation had been uttered. 
 
 " Weli, it is dark to — be — sure," responded 
 Esther. " But I suppose I'm sommut of the 
 nature of a cat myself, for I almost thinks as I 
 sees best in the dark. Never mind, however, 
 just two steps more will bring you to the top of 
 the ladder; not indeed that its worth the climb- 
 ing," she added with a sigh, which had far less 
 reference to the article in question, than to that 
 figurative one which is supposed to indicate the 
 position of ambitious individuals in the social 
 scale. 
 
 u But it isn't the darkness only," replied 
 Kosalie, who, with the true instinct of a childish 
 nature, felt just as much encouraged by that 
 last half uttered note of sadness in Esther's 
 voice, as she had been repelled by the harshness 
 of the one preceding; a this handkerchief cuts 
 me, and I am smothered and confused in this 
 great thick veil besides." 
 
 ''Kidnapped!" said Esther, with a decision 
 which showed she had settled for once and for
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS 85 
 
 ever the question in her own mind, and then, 
 without uttering another syllable, she took 
 Rosalie in her arms and carrying her to theroom 
 above, proceeded at once to divest her of the 
 mufflings which had so painfully impeded her 
 breathing. 
 
 When these were entirely removed, and Eo- 
 salie had gradually recovered the use of her 
 sight, which the bandage had rendered dim, she 
 found herself standing in a dreary, desolate 
 looking chamber, such as she, the petted child of 
 luxury and civilization, had never before set 
 eyes on. A truckle bed pushed far into one 
 dark corner, a couple of ricketty looking chairs, 
 and a three legged table, were all the furniture 
 it could boast of, and even these were only par- 
 tially visible by the light of a tallow candle, 
 flaring coarsely and clumsily from out of a black 
 bottle, in which it had been stuck for the purpose 
 of a candlestick. Yet if there was a paucity of 
 the ordinary furniture of a sleeping chamber, 
 there was abundance of other articles less usually 
 found in such apartuients, to supply the deficiency 
 and fill up vacant places. The naked rafters
 
 86 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 of the roof, which formed its only ceiling, were 
 adorned here and there with pendant strings of 
 onions, interspersed with an occasional flitch of 
 bacon and a couple of bunches of well dried 
 herrings. Apples and raw potatoes were piled 
 together in one corner, while in another lay a 
 heap of things which might have been brought 
 from rag fair, or a pawnbroker's shop at least, 
 of such various and opposite uses were the ar- 
 ticles that composed it; rough and fine, old and 
 new, gear feminine and masculine, being all 
 mingled together in most inexplicable confusion. 
 Happily for Rosalie, however, in the midst of all 
 this untidiness the bed upon which it was in- 
 tended she should repose was tolerably clean, 
 and so too, where it was unencumbered, was the 
 floor, though it must be confessed it did not look 
 it, thanks to the many patches of wood with 
 which here and there it had been mended, and 
 which would have betrayed its mouldy agedness, 
 even if the creaking and complaining of the old 
 boards, wherever they were trod upon, or how- 
 ever lightly, had not testified to their length of 
 service.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 87 
 
 " Now, little 'un," said Esther, holding the 
 child's hands in both her own, and fixing her 
 black eyes steadily upon her, " what's your name 
 and where do ye come from, hey?" 
 
 " He told me my name was Aileen," replied 
 Eosalie, after a moment's hesitation, which told 
 volumes to the sharpened wits of her interlo- 
 cutor. 
 
 " He telled you— did he?" she answered with 
 an incredulous smile. " Well now, I should 
 have guessed that you were old enough to have 
 knowed yourself, without the telling of he. And 
 arter all, who is he? or what is he to you? for I 
 rayther imagine he ain't your father." 
 
 Eosalie, or Aileen as we must henceforth call 
 her, was just going to answer, when rightly com- 
 prehending that the name of her persecutor was 
 of the number of things that in her memory 
 were to exist no longer, she suddenly checked 
 herself and continued silent. 
 
 " I see," said Esther, " mum is the word, else 
 he'll wring your neck off with no more to do 
 than if it were a pullet's — ain't I about right 
 there — tell me now?"
 
 88 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Thus adjured Aileen eagerly nodded her head 
 as a sign of affirmation. It was quite a relief to 
 her mind, in fact, to have the mystery of her 
 present position so thoroughly understood, and 
 its penalties so clearly stated. 
 
 " Well, I ain't never the gal to put a fellow 
 crittur's neck into jeopardy on purpose," respon- 
 ded Esther, "so I'll ask you no more questions, 
 and now just let me loosen your things a bit, 
 and then get you to bed at once, and have some 
 sleep, for you're all of a tremble, and no great 
 wonder neither, considering what you look like, 
 and where you've come to." 
 
 Aileen did indeed want sleep ; stunned, wearied, 
 and terrified by the event of the last few days, a 
 sensation was rapidly creeping over her, which 
 might be termed in some sort sleepiness, though 
 perhaps it was more akin to the stupor incident 
 on exhausted nature, and yielding to its sugges- 
 tions and to the kind hearted encouragement of 
 her new companion, she was about at once to 
 fling herself on the bed, when she suddenly re- 
 membered that she had not said her prayers. 
 Never in her childish memory had she yet omit-
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 89 
 
 ted that nightly duty, and wearied and worn out 
 as she was, she was less inclined than ever to do 
 so now, when, more than ever, she was conscious 
 how much she needed God's protection through 
 the darkness and perils of the hour of night. 
 
 With all her anxiety, however, she had some 
 hesitation in naming her wishes to her guardian, 
 for she felt instinctively that they would sound 
 strange in Esther's ears, and might even perhaps 
 offend her; still as sleep was not to be thought 
 of until after their accomplishment, she took 
 courage at last to falter forth : 
 
 u Will you hear me say my prayers first, 
 please? they are not very long," she added, 
 wrongly interpreting the expression of Esther's 
 face for one of vexation or reluctance. 
 
 " / hear you say your prayers !" the other 
 repeated slowly, and with a sort of cold shudder- 
 ing in her manner, " I hear you say your 
 prayers !" 
 
 " They are not very long," Aileen again 
 pleaded apologetically, " and I won't say them 
 all, for indeed T am almost too tired." 
 
 " Say 'em then," Esther replied, as if conquer-
 
 90 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 ing some hidden feeling by a sudden resolution, 
 " say 'em at once and get 'em over." 
 
 Thus ungraciously permitted, Aileen knelt 
 down without further parley, and her murmured 
 prayer was soon falling like a strain of most ex- 
 quisite music on Esther's ear, winning its way 
 from thence down into the deepest places of her 
 soul. 
 
 They were not long, those prayers of Aileen's, 
 and above all they were very simple, needing 
 nothing of the human eloquence of words to in- 
 terpret of the love they breathed. It was but the 
 prayer which our dear Lord taught his disciples, 
 the " Our Father," as men lovingly have named 
 it, and to this, as the little Catholic child she was, 
 Aileen added the Angelic Salutation, while 
 Esther listened amid thoughts and feelings, oh, 
 how strange! thoughts and feelings which she 
 had no power to define, and no clue by which to 
 do so; thoughts and feelings which she was un- 
 conscious even that she was possessed of, but 
 which, nevertheless, had all this time lain dor- 
 mant in her soul, casting over it a mysterious 
 tinge of sadness, and which might so have lain
 
 HOME AND 1HE HOMELESS. 91 
 
 even to the hour of her death, if the prayers of 
 Aileen, by suggesting for the first time to her 
 mind the idea of a spiritual world, had not called 
 them into life and action. 
 
 "Our Father!" was this the God whose name 
 she had never hitherto heard spoken excepting in 
 the frightful imprecations of her companions, and 
 could it indeed be that outraged God, whom this 
 poor child so simply, so lovingly, and so naturally 
 addressed as "Father?" She had said too, "Our 
 Father," not, therefore, Aileen's only, but the 
 father of many more as well; and was He then, 
 or could He have ever been the father of Esther 
 also, and had she lost Him by some fault of hers, 
 or had she been unworthy from the beginning 
 to be called His child ? 
 
 And who, again, was that mother whom Aileen 
 had entreated, and whose assistance she had im- 
 plored at the death bed of the sinner? Alas! 
 all of death that Esther had ever seen in her 
 young life had been caused by open violence, or 
 reckless dissipation. Death-beds these, to which 
 no sweet mother ever came, or was expected, 
 or even wished for. Death-beds where the
 
 92 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 sinner prayed not, even if, as it too frequently 
 happened he did not blaspheme, and where no 
 one ever knelt to pray for, or to console him, or 
 even to endeavour to repress his curses. Death 
 beds, which in the desperate ravings of their 
 victims had indeed sometimes brought to her 
 mind the idea of some unexplained hereafter, but 
 not of a world where God was Father, or where 
 those whom he called thither, were to dwell as 
 children. Glimpses of that other world now came 
 in far other fashion to the soul of Esther — dim 
 sweet thoughts of an eternity such as she had 
 never before dreamed of — visions of pure beings 
 which made her recoil from the coarse sin- 
 fulness of her past existence as it now stood un- 
 bared to her awakening conscience. Faint 
 shadowings of a love that might fill the void 
 left by human creatures — of a hope that might 
 kindle that love to action, — of a faith in an here- 
 after that might atone for the hard realities of 
 the present — all these, were at that very moment 
 springing into life in Esther's soul, although she 
 knew it not, although she only knew that she 
 was bowed down by a sense of shame and
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 93 
 
 sorrow, such as she had never known before, but 
 such as like none other of which she had ever 
 yet been conscious, brought something of comfort 
 and of sweetness with it. Lower and lower her 
 head sank upon her bosom, and she would have 
 rested it perhaps on Aileen's bended brow, but 
 she felt unworthy even to approach her. She 
 had probably never heard of such a thing as 
 sacrilege, and yet sacrilege surely must have 
 been the idea in her mind, for though she was 
 yearning — yearning as the pilgrim for the desert 
 fountains, as the mourner for a word of comfort, 
 — yearning with an intensity of feeling for which 
 there was no explanation in her own mind, to lay 
 her burning sinful heart on the pure bosom of 
 the child, yet still she would not. She felt as 
 if there was no one in the world to whom she 
 could go for comfort, this one too innocent, all 
 others too guilty far, and so she turned herself 
 gradually on one side, and drew her shawl over 
 her face as if to shut from her sight the purity 
 that so unconsciously accused her, and then 
 heart-humbled, self-scorning, and wholly crushed 
 she burst into a passionate fit of weeping. The
 
 94 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 astonished Rosalie was at her side in an instant ; 
 but finding all her timid efforts at consolation 
 vain, she also yielded to the infectious sadness of 
 the hour, and flinging^ her arms round Esther's 
 neck, half in deference to the sorrows of the latter, 
 half in childish sympathy with her own, burst 
 into tears. 
 
 For a long time Esther resisted, or at least 
 seemed insensible to the loving pressure of those 
 baby arms, and if at last she yielded for one 
 short instant to her passionate desire of clasping 
 Aileen to her bosom, the next she flung her from 
 her, as a mother sinking beneath some dread in- 
 fection might have cast from her the infant she 
 was yearning to embrace. Such varying moods 
 of mind frightened Aileen all the more, that she 
 was far too young to trace them to their source, 
 and her sobs at last became so hysterical that 
 • they recalled Esther to her senses. Necessity 
 and nature had both combined to bestow upon 
 the latter the most perfect self command as to 
 her external manner, and now dismissing at once 
 herself and her own cares, where she had so often 
 before dismissed them, down into the deepest
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 95 
 
 depths of her own heart, she went to the distant 
 corner whither Aileen on her last repulse had 
 hastily retreated, and drawing her to her knee, 
 she wiped away her tears and smoothed her hair, 
 and bade her cry no more in a voice so steady 
 at once, and yet so kind, that it was sure in the 
 end to command obedience. In fact, no sooner 
 had the submissive child become conscious of 
 the change in Esther's manner, than hiding her 
 burning face upon her bosom, she struggled so 
 successfully with her feelings that her sobs soon 
 ceased to be hysterical, and died away at last in 
 the inarticulate moaning of exhausted nature. 
 
 " Aileen," said Esther gravely, but kindly, as 
 soon as she saw that the storm of grief had 
 subsided for the present, " don't you cry no more 
 just now, for I wants to say sommut to you." 
 
 Aileen looked up, her dark blue eyes and 
 silken lashes still humid in the vanished shower, 
 but she did not speak ; she only waited to hear 
 what Esther might have to say, partly perhaps 
 from natural curiosity, but yet more from her 
 anxiety not to offend any of the strange beings 
 upon whom her fate was now depending.
 
 96 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " When I were only half your height, Aileen, 
 I was worser off nor you are, for I had neither 
 a father nor yet a mother. Neither a father nor 
 yet a mother had I," she repeated slowly, as if 
 considering the full weight and meaning of the 
 words she uttered, u nor never had, that I knows 
 of; so I suppose they must have died when I was 
 quite a infant." 
 
 " No father — no mother!" sighed Aileen, as 
 if her young imagination could conceive nothing 
 half so sad in the way of human sorrow. " Poor, 
 poor little girl !" 
 
 " I never had none," continued Esther, " and 
 in course it follows that I never had a home no 
 more; so the street were ever my only home, 
 Aileen, and it might almost be called father and 
 mother to me too, so far as the perwiding of my 
 victuals went, and the finding me in shelter for 
 the night. I lived in the street, eat whatever I 
 begged or stole (for the keeping of the werry 
 life within me) in the street, slept in the street, 
 under any of its old archways that might serve 
 the turn, excepting, indeed, when any of the 
 tramps about, hired me to exhibit as their babby
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 97 
 
 for to make their own case more moving, and 
 then they most always gave me a good night's 
 rest as well, though in a bed that had, may be, 
 as many as a dozen more a snoring in it 
 already." 
 
 " Poor thing," said Aileen quietly, but with 
 great feeling. " That was indeed being much 
 worse off than me, for I have always had a 
 father and a mother until now." 
 
 " I was no one's child," the other went on 
 slowly. u And so no one cared for me, nor 
 troubled themselves about me, excepting, as I 
 said before, when they wanted to make a penny 
 by me. And if I had a father in Heaven, as 
 you said just now, I never knowed it, Aileen, and 
 no one never telled me." 
 
 " Our father is our God," Aileen innocently 
 observed in explanation, feeling that Esther 
 might still be rather in the dark on the snbject, 
 though far from having any adequate idea of the 
 amount of actual ignorance in which she had 
 hitherto been existing. 
 
 ,c I knows it now, Aileen, but I knew nothing 
 of it then, and none of them as were about me 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 knowed it neither. If they had, things might 
 have gone differently with I — and, yet, I don't 
 much think they vvould," she added frankly, 
 after a momentary struggle with that pride which 
 even in the most abandoned still seeks to find 
 excuses for its sin. " I don't much think they 
 would, for the wolf within me a bidding me to 
 steal was louder far than any outside voice a 
 telling me not to, could possibly have been. 
 The dog that has lost his master, the sparrow 
 that sits lonely on the house tops, has no thought 
 for nothing but the scraps that will keep the bare 
 life within them, and I was as lonely and as little 
 cared for, so naturally I growed like them ; my 
 daily bread my only thought — my only heed how 
 to get it." 
 
 u And you stole for it ? " Aileen could not 
 forbear questioning with the lightest possible 
 shade of rebuking in her manner. 
 
 "Begged, borrowed, stole it," said Esther, 
 doggedly. u Took whatever corned in my way, 
 or if nothing came, cried myself, perhaps, to 
 sleep in some dark corner, arter having been
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 99 
 
 bustled off the pavement by them as having 
 homes to go to, found it easier to swear at me for 
 not being in mine than to give me wherewith to 
 find one. Home, forsooth, that was ever and 
 always the word upon their lips, and they never 
 cared to ask, not they — what or where was the 
 home to which they so glibly sent me. Now 
 you see how it were with me all my life time, 
 and how I never rightly were what men do 
 call a child," the girl went on returning 
 to the thread of her story, which Aileen's ques- 
 tion had momentarily interrupted ; " therefore 
 you will not so much wonder that as 1 growed 
 older and my wants more pressing, I growed 
 bolder and more desperate in proportion, until I 
 was a object of suspicion to every shopkeeper 
 and barrow- woman in the neighbourhood. 
 Things couldn't go on much longer quietly 
 when that was the case, you know, so one day, 
 I might have been ten, I might have been eleven, 
 I was took and nabbed by the beaks at last." 
 
 " Beaks nabbed you ! " repeated the bewildered 
 Aileen. 
 
 " The polis," Esther shortly subjoined by way 
 F 2
 
 100 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 of explanation. " They seed me stealing a roll 
 from a baker's shop ! a well-to-do man in the 
 world that baker was, and the bread I stole was 
 but a pennyworth to him, while it was life or 
 death to me to get it, for food had not touched 
 my lips that day ; no, nor at any time in the 
 twenty-four-hours before it. I never had been 
 trapped before, so you may guess that I was 
 fairly frightened ; but just as I was beginning to 
 blubber like the great baby that I was, Dick 
 Daredevil, (him as you seed in the passage be- 
 low just now) he stept out of the crowd, he did, 
 and offered, if they would let me go that once, 
 for to pay for the roll himself. That were the 
 first time as ever I set eyes on Dick ; but you 
 may believe me, I never forgot that kind act of 
 his'n, and wot's more, I never will." 
 
 "And did the baker let you off?" asked 
 Aileen, intensely excited over a tale which was 
 all the more interesting to her young ears that 
 she came from a far-off-land, where the sun is so 
 bright, and the soil so bountiful that such hag- 
 gard need as Esther was describing is seldom to 
 be met with there.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMKLESS. 101 
 
 " Let me off? — not he — yet he didn't care for 
 the roll. Why should he? I might have taken 
 a dozen such, and he never to have missed 
 them." 
 
 " Then what did he make such a fuss for?" 
 Aileen indignantly enquired. 
 
 " What did he make such a stir for? He said 
 himself it were for conscience sake, and the ends 
 of justice, that he wished to make an example of 
 me; and so for example's sake it was, I suppose, 
 that I had six good weeks of it on the mill, and 
 all along of a scrap of bread that I could have 
 swallowed in two mouthfuls." 
 
 "Mill," repeated Aileen, with the bewildered 
 expression which not a few of her companion's 
 words were continually calling to her counte- 
 nance. 
 
 " Treadmill," the other said, as if that would 
 make it clearer. "I wasn't a child in wicked- 
 ness when I was first put upon it, Aileen, and yet 
 a very babe of innocence, 1 might have been a 
 going into prison in comparison to what I were 
 a coming out. Howsomdever, I never was so 
 lonesome like again, for Dick, he sought me the
 
 102 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 moment I was let out, and when he found as I 
 were a lone child with none to trouble or to care 
 about me, he took me to this 'ere old house, 
 where off and on I've lived with him ever 
 since." 
 
 " Then may be he taught you something 
 better than you knew before," said Aileen 
 anxiously. " He taught you, Esther, didn't 
 he?" 
 
 M Teached me !" repeated the girl with a short 
 bitter laugh that would have spoken volumes 
 to an initiated ear; "yes, Ishould say as he did, 
 indeed — to drink, to swear, to — to lead with 
 ruffians the life that ruffians lead; that's wot 
 he teached me, Aileen ; but it wasn't his fault, 
 poor fellow, neither, seeing that in course he 
 could only teach as he knowed himself, and 
 such things were all for the most part as ever 
 he'd been learnt." 
 
 The tone of relenting softness in which these 
 last few words were spoken emboldened Aileen 
 once more to fold her arms round Esther's neck, 
 and the girl accepted of this mark of sympathy 
 with an humbled tenderness of manner very dif-
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 103 
 
 ferent from her former passionate and proud re- 
 coiling. Then lifting the weary child with 
 something of a mother's tenderness into bed, she 
 whispered gently : 
 
 " Go you to sleep now, Aileen, and if any one 
 comes in, 'specially that old woman, keep your 
 eyes shut, and take heed not to answer none of 
 their questions. They won't vex you with too 
 many, lambie, if they thinks you are a sleeping 
 quiet." 
 
 " But you are not going !" cried Aileen, hold- 
 ing her fast by the hand. " Oh, Esther, I shall 
 be afraid without you !" 
 
 " I must go, my precious, and more for your 
 sake than my own, moreover. Howsomever, I 
 shan't be long away, and wot's more, I shall be 
 so close at hand that I shall hear you if you only 
 whispers, so never you be afeard, but go to sleep 
 at once, and if you've ere another prayer to say, 
 why say it for poor Esther."
 
 104J HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The steep staircase by which Esther descended 
 after leaving Rosalie was only lighted by means 
 of a small window looking into the room, in 
 which the conference between Dick and his visitor 
 was proceeding at the moment. As she passed 
 this window she paused and looked in, but no 
 sooner had she discovered its present occupants, 
 than quietly unclosing one of the small panes 
 which, for this very purpose perhaps, had been 
 provided with a hinge, she applied herself to 
 listen. The first word that fell on her ear, in- 
 stantly riveted her to the spot, nothing less than 
 the future destination of Aileen being the sub-
 
 nOME AND THE HOMELESS. 105 
 
 ject in discussion; but for the better under- 
 standing of our readers, we will go back yet a 
 little further, in order to put them in possession 
 of all that had passed between the confederates 
 previous to her arrival. 
 
 Having first assigned the place of honour to 
 his guest, Dick bad seated himself on a wooden 
 settle by the fire, and was about to begin the 
 conversation, when Mr. Sutherland prevented 
 him by saying: 
 
 " I got your note at the post office as I came 
 up here. Have you heard anything of my 
 son?" 
 
 " Havn't I though?" responded Dick, stretch- 
 ing his legs negligently along the settle, and ac- 
 commodating his back by leaning against the 
 wall. " What's the odds now that I havn't dis- 
 covered him for you at last." 
 
 Mr. Sutherland started, and the blood rushed 
 first to his temples, and then retreating as rapidly 
 as it had risen, left both cheek and brow as pale 
 as ashes. He unclosed his lips, too, as if he 
 were about to speak, yet not a syllable came 
 forth ; for had his very life depended on it, the 
 f 5
 
 106 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 strong man could not at that moment have 
 uttered a single syllable. Dick waited politely 
 a moment longer, thinking he was about to 
 answer, but finding that he continued silent, he 
 went on himself: 
 
 " Arter you first lost sight of him I hear he 
 was to be seen backwards and forwards con- 
 tinually in half the hells of Lonon, until, play 
 high, play low, he must have had precious little 
 change left out of his allowance. A cove as 
 does that sort of thing doesn't go upwards, you 
 know; it's against natur he should, I believe, 
 and so it has ended at last in your chap's being 
 passed on from one low set of sharpers to another, 
 until about two months agone, when I discovered 
 him a sailing in company with one of my 
 chums." 
 
 " With one of your chums !" cried Mr. Suther- 
 land, a sense of coming ruin creeping over 
 him, such as his worst forebodings for his son 
 had never yet led him to anticipate before. 
 
 " With one of my chums, and with none of 
 the best of them neither," Dick emphatically re- 
 peated. " Mr. Sutherland, I don't want to make
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 107 
 
 the worst of a bad business, I don't; but he's in 
 now with the werry cove as will put a rope 
 round his neck in no time, if he's only half as 
 sharp in following bad advice as I reckon him 
 to be." 
 
 " A rope," Mr. Sutherland mechanically re- 
 peated, it was all he could say or think of. u A 
 rope, man; did you say a rope?" 
 
 " A rope, Mr. Sutherland — Mr. Grey I mean 
 — asking your pardon for disremembering your 
 incog." 
 
 " A rope !" the unhappy father repeated, as if 
 even yet uncertain as to the full significance of 
 the word he uttered. 
 
 " A rope!" reiterated Dick. "Now you see, 
 sir," he went on, with a becoming air of candour, 
 laying his hand at the same time on the cuff of 
 Mr. Sutherland's coat to bespeak his attention, 
 " I won't say but wot if he had come into my 
 hands alone, he mightn't sooner or later have had 
 a taste of the hulks, but the gallows is wot 
 I hopes as I will never have nothing to 
 say to, and for this reason, chiefly that I'm 
 werry particular about human life, werry
 
 108 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 particular indeed, Mr. Grey, whereas John 
 Nightshade—" 
 
 " Nightshade again !" groaned Mr. Sutherland, 
 suddenly interrupting his voluble companion; 
 " then he has checkmated me at last." 
 
 " I know nothing about that," replied Dick, 
 looking a little astonished, " but I know that 
 John is become a reg'lar yokel he is, and we have 
 all the trouble in life in keeping on the sunny 
 side of the perfession with him." 
 
 " Unhappy boy !" cried Mr. Sutherland, un- 
 able any longer to repress the agony he was 
 feeling. " Educated as he has been, what can 
 he have in common with such a wretch as that! 
 What does he do for him? What is he to 
 him, thac he still continues to influence his 
 actions?" 
 
 " What does he do for him," said Dick com- 
 posedly ; " why, he leads a jolly sort of life no 
 doubt just now, for John gives him our notes to 
 scatter, and uncommon clever at the trick he is, 
 besides being such a swell to look at, that you 
 see, anybody would as soon think of suspecting 
 their grandfathers, as he of a plant."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 109 
 
 " This has been done express," Mr. Sutherland 
 muttered between his teeth. " The tables are 
 turned with a vengeance." 
 
 " Possible," said Dick, " but you know I 
 know nothing wotever of your former dealings 
 with John, or how it has happened that he 
 has introdooced you among us. Howsomdever, it 
 does seem hard that a promising lad like that 
 should be ticed into such a coil as John is as 
 likely as not to put round his neck ; and so if 
 you likes it, and always in course for a considera- 
 tion, I'll tip you the wink some day when 
 he has none of our notes in his pocket, and then 
 with the help of the beaks you might nab him 
 neatly, and bring him to reason on some small 
 count as would cost him only a judge's sermon 
 and a few weeks of prison somewhere." 
 
 " The beaks ! — the police," cried Mr. Suther- 
 land, sorrow and anger gladly taking refuge 
 under the semblance of offended pride. " And 
 do you think for an instant, sirrah, that I would 
 wantonly invoke such disgrace upon my own 
 head as the reclaiming my son by such means 
 must inevitably entail. I to parade myself in
 
 110 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 every newspaper in the kingdom as the father of 
 a cheat and black leg ! No, sir, if he is only to 
 be reclaimed by such a public exposure of his 
 sins and my sorrow, he may continue to riot in 
 his unseemly haunts; he may rot in jail, or 
 tremble on a scaffold before I stir hand or foot 
 to save him." 
 
 "As your honor pleases," replied the imper- 
 turbable Dick, " you are his guv'nor and knows 
 in course wot's best for he, only I hopes you 
 won't forget that my job was not to mend him, 
 but to find him, and having done so I expects 
 to be paid according." 
 
 " I have not forgotten," said the other hoarsely, 
 " and you shall have double, treble the amount, 
 if you do but rescue my boy from the hands of 
 Nightshade." 
 
 " Humph, and what would be the terms for he, 
 Mr. Grey ? they must be precious good ones, let 
 me tell you, if you'd have him give up the lark- 
 ing life he's leading— a jolly one it is, I know by 
 my own experience, pity only it comes to grief 
 so often." 
 
 " He has disgraced his name and mine," the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. Ill 
 
 father answered sternly, u I cannot permit him 
 to remain in England — " 
 
 " I should think not indeed, " Dick responded 
 •with great emphasis, opening his eyes at the 
 same time extremely wide in his astonishment at 
 the simplicity of his employer, " no, indeed, nor 
 the beaks neither, I should say; why Lor' love 
 you, sir, wot with taking much and paying 
 little, he has done enough already, young as he 
 is, to fix him in Botany for the whole term of his 
 natural existence, as the bigs wigs will surelie 
 tell him when he's had up for judgment. " 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Sutherland impatiently, "I 
 care not a rap what the big wigs say, it is enough 
 for me that I do not wish him to remain here 
 longer. I have, however, more than one important 
 mercantile establishment in America, and if he 
 chooses to go out there, I will undertake to ar- 
 range his journey for him, and to give him a 
 moderate but increasing income, until he has 
 sufficiently recovered my confidence to be per- 
 mitted to return to England and resume his 
 natural position in society." 
 
 " Send him to furren parts before his time,"
 
 112 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 replied the literal Dick. " Well, it's the only- 
 thing that I knows of to save him from a jour- 
 ney a little later at the Queen's expense, but as 
 to his coming back again, there may be two 
 words to that bargain, guv'nor, for the beaks 
 ain't fathers to forgive and forget the moment 
 the mischief's done and can't be helped, and so I 
 may as well tell you first as last, that it will take 
 a good spell of years, to say the least of it, to 
 whitewash some of his tricks out of their rekil- 
 lections." 
 
 " If he consent to my plans, I will as far as 
 may be, without discovering our relationship, take 
 up his debts and make good his swindling trans- 
 actions; and for the rest you don't mean to in- 
 sinuate, I suppose, that he has done anything as 
 yet which is above such reparation as money can 
 supply." 
 
 "Few things that I know of in this 'ere 
 blessed country are above that kind of repara- 
 tion," Dick responded with a grin ; " and as you 
 rightly observes, Mr. Grey, I don't by no means 
 wish to insinuate that the younker has done any- 
 thing as yet, which is above the mark of money
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 113 
 
 to buy in — but mind 1 say as yet — because there's 
 no guessing what he may or may not be up 
 to soon, now that he is fairlie in the hands of 
 Johnny." 
 
 " 1 have said it," said Mr. Sutherland ; " you 
 shall have treble what you have already earned, 
 if you only get him clear out of that ruffian's 
 hands, before any deeper violation of the law 
 takes place. And now for the business which 
 has more expressly brought me here to-night, 
 and which, mark you, I expect to be kept at all 
 hazards from the knowledge both of Nightshade 
 and my son." 
 
 u Werry good, guv'ner; the kinchen above 
 stairs is about the measure of the shoe as you 
 wants fitted to-night 1 guess — hey, sir?" and 
 thrusting his tongue into his cheek, Dick pointed 
 with a kind of rollickiug affectation of secrecy 
 to the room over head, in which Aileen was domi- 
 ciled for the night. 
 
 It was a moment ere Mr. Sutherland could 
 command himself to reply, he so recoiled from 
 the insolent familiarity of the man ; a familiarity, 
 which conscience whispered, arose entirely from
 
 114 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Dick's knowledge that he was about to be en- 
 trusted, that in fact he was already more than 
 half cognizant of a secret which if discovered 
 would put him and his patron on equal terms in 
 the estimation of the vsorld. Hitherto, for 
 reasons best known to themselves, Dick had 
 always behaved with a degree of respect towards 
 Mr. Sutherland, which he was little in the habit 
 of offering to any one, however superior to him- 
 self in birth or station; but from the instant that 
 Aileen appeared on the scene he had entirely 
 dropt his former air of deference, and had ad- 
 dressed her captor in the hail-fellow-well-met 
 sort of manner which one ruffian uses to another. 
 It was Mr. Sutherland's first taste of the bitter 
 fruit of crime, and being not only a gentleman, 
 but a very proud one, he felt it deeply. Nor 
 was it his "pride alone that was wounded by the 
 manner of his quondam slave, for while, by the 
 cunning leer and insolent familiarity with which 
 he was now addressed, he measured the heights 
 from whence he had descended, there was yet worse, 
 a lurking consciousness in his bosom, that from 
 that time forward he would have far less moral
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 115 
 
 power over Dick, than Dick, by means of this 
 fatal secret, could exercise over him. 
 
 It was too late, however, to draw back, even 
 if he had so desired, but this in fact he did not, 
 for he was a man of most absolute resolves, and 
 seldom suffered any after thought to move him 
 from his purpose, even when that purpose did 
 not, as directly as in the present instance, tend 
 towards the gratifying of the two strongest pas- 
 sions of his nature, ambition and revenge. Never- 
 theless so conscious was he of the dangerous 
 nature of the course he had decided on pursuing, 
 that for a momeut he did not speak, and Dick 
 was forced to repeat his question, before he 
 answered shortly : 
 
 " Keep her until I claim her, and you shall 
 have a sum sufficient to make the job worth 
 while." 
 
 What good angel was it that caused a shadow 
 to pass over Dick's hard features at the bare idea 
 of consigning one so young and innocent as 
 Aileen to the teaching of the inhabitants of his 
 mansion? What good angel was it that inspired 
 him even then to urge this objection on his em-
 
 116 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 ployer ? We know not, but whether it was at 
 the prompting of his own guardian spirit or that 
 of the child herself, sure we are that it will not 
 be forgotten to him at the hour of his death, and 
 that a fuller measure of mercy will be accorded 
 to him then for that he made an effort, however 
 faint and fruitless, to shield her innocence from 
 the fate to which the more heartless ruffian of 
 the two had remorselessly consigned her. 
 
 "In course if you wish it, Guv'nor, but ain't 
 she rayther too young and tender for the kind of 
 life we leads among us?" 
 
 " Not a bit," said his employer, " Esther will 
 see to that, I trust all that to Esther. She won't 
 be more difficult to feed and physic than any 
 other brat of the same standing I suppose." 
 
 u Surelie not," replied Dick, " but it's only 
 fair to let you know before hand, in case you 
 ever wants her back again, that she won't be 
 none the better for her six months training at 
 the old red house, I expect." 
 
 " So much the better," responded Mr. Suther- 
 land heartily, " and a word in your ear, my 
 friend; only you make her such a one that her
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 117 
 
 very mother, if she have one still, would prefer 
 weeping over her in her grave, to receiving her 
 living into her embraces, and you'll find it to 
 your advantage hereafter in the settling of our 
 accounts." 
 
 For a moment Dick could not answer, so en- 
 grossed was he in staring at Mr. Sutherland's 
 features, convulsed as they were just then, by a 
 host of savage passions, such as the lesser villain 
 at his side, confessed to himself never to have 
 seen depicted on the human countenance be- 
 fore. 
 
 " Well, you are a devil and no mistake, I will 
 say that for you," he at last almost unconsciously 
 blurted out, and then as the dark blood rushed 
 to Mr. Sutherland's temples, suddenly remember- 
 ing himself Dick more civilly continued, "asking 
 your pardon for saying it all the same, though 
 if I had been shot for it, I don't think as I could 
 have helped it just then. And now, if it ain't 
 making too free to ask the question, will you tell 
 me, Guv'nor, if it is a bit of your own flesh and 
 blood as you are giving away so liberal to the 
 evil one?"
 
 118 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " It is the flesh and blood of my enemy," Mr. 
 Sutherland replied, as curtly as if in these few 
 words there was an answer all sufficient for the 
 rude nature he was addressing. 
 
 " Oh, that's it, is it?" returned the other. 
 u Well, let me see — there's old Nan, now. If I 
 turns her loose on old Nan, her edication, as far, 
 at all events, as the lingo is concerned, will be 
 complete in next to no time — and quite to your 
 satisfaction too ; I'll answer for that, Mr. Suther- 
 land." 
 
 " On the first day of each half-year," returned 
 that gentleman, laying a small heap of gold upon 
 the table, " I shall be here to pay the stipend. 
 This is the first instalment, and for this you are 
 to teach her to drink, to swear, to do all the ill- 
 deeds in short, of which a child is capable, in 
 order to tit her hereafter for the deeper delin- 
 quencies of the woman. And never you venture, 
 Dick Daredevil, as they call you, to face me 
 again, if you have not succeeded in polluting 
 both the heart and intellect of that accursed 
 brat, and degrading her in the eyes of the world, 
 until the lowest of the flash companions of my
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 119 
 
 son would feel lowered by any open communica- 
 tion with her." 
 
 11 Hallo ! old boy. Have you never a cloven 
 foot for to show there, hid away under your 
 thingummies? " cried Dick, starting from his 
 recumbent posture, and eyeing his employer with 
 a look of undisguised disgust at this laying bare 
 of a scheme of vengeance, which made the black- 
 est of his own black deeds seem innocent by 
 comparison. 
 
 "By jingo," he went on rapidly, "I a'most 
 fancies as I smells the brimstone, and I ain't too 
 sure that I don't no more, for the devil himself 
 surelie must be at the bottom of such a coil as 
 this against a innocent little crittur, as could no 
 more have done you any real harm as yet, nor 
 the lamb could have swallowed the wolf." 
 
 " It was the wolf that swallowed the lamb at 
 last, however," replied Mr. Sutherland, with a 
 grim smile, "and how much soever it may be re- 
 gretted, he is likely enough to do the same sort 
 of thing over again, I should say, whenever and 
 wherever a similar opportunity may happen to 
 occur ! ' '
 
 120 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Dick eyed Mr. Sutherland intently for a mo- 
 ment, and then without hesitation in his manner 
 said, — 
 
 " It's past belief, such spite against a babby ; 
 but asking your pardon once more for the ob- 
 servation, I do hope Mr. Sutherland you have 
 done nothing like this." 
 
 And Dick swept his hand with an expressive 
 gesture across his own thick wind-pipe as he 
 asked the question — " I do hope you've done 
 nothing of that sort to none of her friends?" 
 
 "Pshaw, man, I have not," said Mr. Suther- 
 land, coldly. " If that's what you mean, I have 
 done no murder." 
 
 " Because," continued Dick, with the air of one 
 who either had not heard or gave very little 
 credit to his denial, "It is altogether undeniable 
 that the affair has a ugly look, and I might easily 
 get into trouble, if any witnesses to the fact were 
 to turn up hereafter, as they sometimes will do 
 in such cases in a very unproper and unfeeling 
 manner." 
 
 " I tell you, fool," said Mr. Sutherland, now 
 growing really angry, " there is no blood in the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 121 
 
 case at all, and if there were, Jo you think I'd 
 he idiot enough to show you the spot? No! 
 no ! Death would not serve ray turn half so well 
 as life — such a life as this to which I have 
 doomed her — and almost I could have wished 
 the mother living still," he could not forhear 
 adding hetween his clenched teeth, " that she 
 might see and rue the effect of her own proud 
 boastings on the fortunes of her child." 
 
 There was an energy of purpose in Mr. 
 Sutherland's words and manner now, that would 
 have compelled the most sceptical to believe, and 
 for more reasons than one, Dick felt infinite re 
 lief in arriving at the conviction that he might 
 safely rely on the verity of his employer's 
 assertions. 
 
 Any connection with a downright murderer he 
 always eschewed on principle, fearing it might 
 end in bringing his own precious person into 
 unpleasant contact with the hangman, for whom 
 he felt, as he professed, a most decided objection ; 
 whereas child-stealing was only a transportable 
 offence at the outside, and in this instance could 
 hardly even have been brought home to him at 
 
 VOL. I, G
 
 122 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 ell, seeing that he was merely the receiver of the 
 stolen goods, and in utter ignorance as to the 
 mode in which they had come into the hands of 
 his employer. 
 
 So far he was much easier in his own mind 
 than he had been a short time before, when all 
 the instincts and experiences of his ruffian life 
 were tending to convince him that the man of 
 fierce and unbridled passions at his side, must in 
 the natural course of things, long ere this have 
 written them in blood; nevertheless, there was 
 still enough of a once kindly nature lingering 
 about Dick, to make him very unwilling to 
 undertake even the less guilty part assigned him 
 by his employer. Not indeed that in the course 
 of his own career he had not been the moral de- 
 stroyer of many children, by encouraging them in 
 the evil deeds to which Mr. Sutherland Was 
 anxious he should familiarise Aileen; but then 
 such children were already on the road to ruin, 
 he had not deliberately led them to it. Born of 
 iniquity often, and in it always; nursed as it 
 were in its very lap, and so familiar with its 
 deeds and so voluble in its language, that it
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 123 
 
 ever seemed to him but little harm, if indeed 
 he thought it any, to entice them from the 
 mere knowledge and love of crime to its actual 
 commission. In the case of Aileen, however, 
 there was no such excuse as this; nothing which 
 he could urge to his own conscience in extenua- 
 tion of the deed. 
 
 She was so young, so unresisting, and so help- 
 less ; she had, moreover, so evidently been brought 
 up in the sanctity and refinement of some 
 home from whence the very name of vice had 
 been carefully excluded, that even his hardened 
 nature shrank from the idea of introducing her 
 into the coarse atmosphere of villany in which 
 he himself breathed most freely, and for one 
 brief generous moment it actually crossed his 
 mind to reject Mr. Sutherland's proposition alto- 
 gether. It might not be, however. Too well lie 
 knew that the banker held him to his allegiance 
 by a thread, which, if pulled tightly, might draw 
 him to a prison, and although he rejoiced in the 
 idea that he also had an important secret of that 
 gentleman's in his possession, he nevertheless 
 knew the world too well, to feel sure that the 
 
 G 2
 
 124 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 word of a convicted felon would weigh much in 
 its opinion against the character of one of the 
 wealthiest of its denizens. To do him justice, 
 also, the spirit of revenge held no prominent 
 place among Dick's household vices, and he was 
 therefore any thing hut likely to consider that 
 the condemnation of Mr. Sutherland, even admit- 
 ting that he could have obtained it, would at all 
 compensate for his own dreary residence and en- 
 forced labour in a convict prison. 
 
 " 'Twon't be no manner of use to talk to him," 
 he muttered to himself, while glancing covetously 
 at the tempting little heap of gold that lay before 
 him on the table, and then the thought rushed 
 into his mind (that thought which has so often 
 already been an inducement to the commission 
 of crime), " If I don't do it for him, he'll 
 easy enough get some one else that will, and 
 excepting me and Rett, there ain't another two 
 of the same sort in Lonon as wouldn't lick lier 
 to death as soon as look at her, if the old 
 gemman only made it worth while to do so; 
 therefore if I don't strike a bargain with 
 him, I lose the shiners, and the child loses we,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 125 
 
 and so my wirtue be only an ill convenience 
 to ns all." 
 
 During this mental soliloquy Dick's eyes for 
 the most part were riveted upon the gold, ex- 
 cepting, indeed, once, when he raised them to 
 the ceiling in a faint, ineffectual attempt at free- 
 ing his mind from the temptation that lay glit- 
 tering before him. Mr. Sutherland lnew his 
 man, and waited quietly (without even deigning 
 to influence his decision by a look) until Dick's 
 avarice should have conquered his better nature, 
 or his conscience at all events have been lulled 
 to sleep by one or other of the ingenious devices 
 which minds of a certain calibre always appear 
 to keep by them ready made for the purpose. 
 
 " Well?" he condescended to ask at length. 
 He had not apparently lifted his eyes or even 
 turned his head, and yet he seemed to know in- 
 tuitively the very moment when his tool had 
 arrived at the conclusion most favourable to his 
 wishes. 
 
 "Well, gnve'nor?" Dick repeated in an inter- 
 rogative manner, " sommun else in course will 
 get a offer of the job if I declines it?"
 
 126 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Mr. Sutherland nodded assent. 
 
 " And it follows in course that if that 'ere 
 innocent little crittur is to be kept in quod, 
 whether or no, I may just as well pocket the 
 blunt myself as let any one else have the benefit 
 of the bounty." 
 
 " Just so," replied the tempter. 
 
 u Therefore," continued Dick, drawing the 
 money greedily towards him, and jingling it 
 lovingly in his large bony hand, " you may look 
 upon the thing as done — done, guve'nor, and no 
 mistake, and so with your leave I'll pocket the 
 consideration at once." 
 
 " And you'll beware of forgetting the condi- 
 tions upon which you take it," Mr. Sutherland 
 sternly added. 
 
 " Ain't very likely to do that, being such as 
 they bees," Dick replied very soberly. " How- 
 somever I'll spare no pains (as shop gents are in 
 the habit of saying) to give you every satisfac- 
 tion in my power, though it's very like taking a 
 ticket to hell before one's time, for to promise to 
 do so." 
 
 " Pshaw," said Mr. Sutherland— scorn and
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. I 27 
 
 an uneasy conviction contending in his manner. 
 " Don't you pretend to come over me with that 
 sort of rubbish. Trust me, a man's mind is 
 quite hell enough for its possessor here or here- 
 after either, without going to another world to 
 find one." 
 
 "Uncommon comfortable doctrine that, for we 
 gemmen of the pad and pick-lock surelie," said 
 Dick in a dubious manner. " Only wish I could 
 feel as sartin of it as you do, guve'nof, which I 
 don't by uo means do, though there are times 
 when one's sleep would be the sounder for the 
 notion." 
 
 " Old woman's rubbish, nothing more, all that 
 stuff about hell and future retribution. Put it 
 out of your head altogether, my friend, or it will 
 make you as moped as an old cat in a kitchen. 
 And now I must be going, for it is almost sun- 
 rise — must not be a word about this little busi- 
 ness to Nightshade — and for the rest, remem- 
 ber!" 
 
 u Well, I ain't no scholard, I know that," 
 muttered Dick, as he watched the retreating form 
 of his employer from the door of his mansion,
 
 128 HOME AND THE HOMELLSS. 
 
 but if there isn't a hell already, I'm blowed if 
 there oughtn't to be one made o' purpose for the 
 sake of such as he. Blast him with his filthy 
 vengeance. They scragg a poor fellow for just 
 cutting the throat of some old reprobate as most 
 likely is half way down to hell and the grave 
 already, and this luresmcoth-spoktri villain con 
 come plottin and plottin as much as he pleases 
 against a innocent babby, and just because he's 
 rich and can pay for silence, none of us dare to 
 say a word against him. Bury my body, what's 
 that for?" he cried starting violently as a hand 
 was laid suddenly upon his shoulder. " Why, 
 Hetty, now ! what's the row, lass? You havn't 
 been a listening all this time, havn't you though?" 
 he asked quickly, struck by the peculiar expres- 
 sion of her countenance. 
 
 " No matter whether I have or not," she 
 answered gravely. u You shan't have nothing to 
 say to this business with my good will, that I 
 can tell you, father. So if you're in the mind 
 to go on with it still, you'd best look out for a 
 gal as will be more ready than I to help you." 
 
 " Help me to wh it, Het? I'm blest if I don't
 
 HOME AXD THE HOMF.LFSS 129 
 
 think you've gone clean out of your senses," 
 said Dick, his conscience, for all his air of inno- 
 cence, beginning to prick unpleasantly beneath 
 Esther's calm, yet rebuking glances. u Least 
 wise I never seel you look at me in that 'ere 
 fashion before, my gal." 
 
 " Perhaps, you never seed me when I were a 
 feeling so before, Dick, but I didn't come to talk 
 to you about my looks, but only just to say that 
 you shan't lay a finger on that child for evil, you 
 shan't learn her nothing wotsomever that has 
 shame cr sorrow in it." 
 
 "Shan't T, indeed? And pray why not if 1 
 chooses, young woman?*' 
 
 " Because I don't wish it no how, and so you 
 won't; for Hetty's sake you won't. For Hetty's 
 sake," she repeated, putting her hand on her 
 adopted father's shoulder, " the child as you took 
 from the street and gutter, the treadmill and the 
 prison ; the child as you fed, and clothed, and 
 cared for, when there were no one else would 
 do it for her; the child as, wotever else you 
 teached her, you teached her at least the dear 
 name of father; the child as has been a true 
 g5
 
 130 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 child to you in the midst of her evil doings to 
 all others; the child ns you've been a loving 
 father to. however careless and cruel others 
 may have thought you. For her sake, Dick, and 
 for the sake of the true love and kindness there 
 has ever been betwixt us, you will do nothing 
 you have promised in the way of leading the 
 little one up stairs to ruin/' 
 
 " What's the odds that I don't tho*," said 
 Dick, trying to bluster a little in order to conceal 
 the effects which her passionate entreaties had 
 really made upon him. 
 
 "Just this," said Esther quietly, " that if you 
 don't swear to me by the holiest oath you know 
 of (if may-happen you know any) to let that 
 there innocent alone, then I swears to you to 
 quit the Red House at once, and never to come 
 back again ; no, not from this ere blessed moment 
 to the werry last one of your life or mine," 
 
 " No, now, don't you go for to swear no such 
 a thing," Dick hastily responded, " for I couldn't 
 live without yon, gal, that's the werry blessed 
 truth it is, and rayther than let you go, I'll 
 take any blasted oath you choose to impose."
 
 IIOME AXD THE HOMELESS. 131 
 
 " You needn't trouble yourself at all to take 
 any oath as you don't intend to bide by, since it 
 will be no manner of use in the way of keeping 
 me with you," the girl quietly responded. 
 
 " Won't I bide by it tho'? You wait and see, 
 that's all, as the caterpillar said to the robin 
 when it were a twitted for its want of wings. 
 Why, you may believe me, gal, I had no great 
 liking for the job even at the outset, and in 
 course am all the more ready to give it up now 
 that I finds it contrary to your feelings likewise; 
 taking the cove's jingo all the same, Hetty; I 
 suppose you've no objection to that, my gal." 
 
 "Must you tho'?" the girl doubtfully re- 
 sponded. " Better not, I should say. It may 
 bring you into trouble yet, if ever the trick 
 should be discovered by he." 
 
 " Must's the word, for all that, Hett. Why, 
 don't you see, stoopid, to refuse the jingo would 
 be all as one as to refuse the job likewise, in 
 which case he would lose little time enough, I 
 expect,- in handing the kid over to some less par- 
 ticular rogues than ourselves ; a change of measure
 
 132 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 that would "be a precious sight worser for her 
 nor we." 
 
 u You are about right there, Dick, I'm almost 
 afraid, for he must be too deep in the mud already 
 not to go further still if need be. Any how it 
 can't be no great wickedness to take the money 
 when it's only for the child's own sake we do so, 
 and who knows, Dick, but what our cherishing 
 of this poor lambie now, may not be the saving 
 of we some day, if ever we're bringed up to 
 judgment, as I suppose at last we shall be." 
 
 " By the living jingo, but you are a brick in 
 earnest," cried Dick enthusiastically, as the words 
 of Esther conveyed quite a new idea to his mind. 
 u Why, as you say, my gal, in course, if ever any 
 of her people happen to turn up, and that they 
 are rich and well to do in the world (as judging 
 from her appearance is most likely) we may snap 
 our fingers at judge and jury both, if we can but 
 prove we have saved their kinchen from the black 
 ruin, this here villain has designed against 
 her— " 
 
 u It were of another sort of Judge altogether
 
 HOME ANT) THE HOMELESS. 133 
 
 that I was thinking at the moment," said Esther 
 with a half mournful smile. u The Judge I 
 mean as drunken Tom Walker said he seed a 
 waiting for him the day he died. Not but wot 
 it's likely to do us a good turn in this world as 
 well, Dick, if ever we comes to grief, as in course 
 we shall, when our time is up, and we've run to 
 the end of our tether." 
 
 "Do you think now, Hetty," cried Dick 
 eagerly, his previous conversation with Mr. 
 Sutherland suddenly recurring to his recollection, 
 " Do you think there is a Judge and another 
 world? as the white ties tells us. Yonder blus- 
 terer says there ain't, and that it's all lies and 
 old woman's rubbish they do talk about it." 
 
 And he pointed in the direction Mr. Suther- 
 land had taken, to indicate that he was the per- 
 son thus disrespectfully alluded to, looking 
 eagerly and almost wistfully in Esther's eyes the 
 while for an answer to his question. But she 
 only cast them down and answered sadly, — 
 
 " May-happen, like we, Dick, he has good cause 
 to dread it."
 
 134 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The two or three next succeeding weeks passed 
 sadly and wearily over Aileen's head. Business, 
 probably of no very reputable nature had called 
 Dick Daredevil away; and Judy also, he had 
 contrived to dispose of in one of the many other 
 haunts of iniquity with which he was connected, 
 so that Esther and the child were left entirely 
 alone. The watch over the latter was, however, 
 none the less vigilant on that account, for though 
 in all other ways, Esther was as kind as could 
 be, she had yet received such injunctions on this 
 head from her adopted father, as for her own 
 sake, and even for Aileen's, she dared not disobey.
 
 HOME AND THE nOMEL 135 
 
 The child accordingly found herself in the stri 
 sense of the word a captive, being neither allowed 
 to leave the house, nor the room that had been 
 at first assigned her, nor even until after sunset, 
 to stand at the open wiudow; and thus deprived 
 of light and air, things as needful to the well- 
 being of childhood, as to that of the flowers of 
 the field, poor Aileen began visibly to fade. The 
 anguish also of that terrible separation from her 
 mother, which, at first had been dulled by the 
 sense of immediate danger to herself, returned in 
 a yet more heart-breaking and irremediable form 
 than as if circumstances had allowed it to burst 
 forth naturally in the beginning, and a settled 
 melancholy, very pitiful to behold in one so 
 young, gradually took possession of her soul. 
 Unfortunately there was nothing in that dreary 
 mansion to divert or ameliorate such thoughts. 
 Esther was often obliged to leave her alone for 
 hours, for though Dick had disappeared, other 
 mortals rough and rude as he was, with hearts 
 yet more impervious to kindly feelings, were 
 continually on the come and go, and she was 
 liable both night and day to be called upon
 
 136 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 to serve them - — nevertheless, every moment 
 that she could steal from such occupation she 
 devoted to the soothing of poor Aileen's sorrows. 
 She would take her lovingly in her arms, and 
 whisper in her ear the hopes she herself really 
 entertained of the child's future restoration to 
 her friends; and then, yet further to divert 
 her attention and amuse her, she would tell 
 her whatever tales she knew, and deemed she 
 could tell without sinning against that childlike 
 purity of Aileen's, which had won so wonder- 
 fully on her imagination. Alas ! small and scant 
 was poor Esther's stock of such harmless lore j 
 and so when she had told the tale (new to 
 Aileen's ears at any rate) of Whittington and 
 his cat, and of beauty and the beast, and of the 
 babes in the wood, which last, from its similarity 
 to portions of the child's own history was re- 
 gularly called for twice, and as regularly re- 
 ceived with tears, it the.i became Aileen's turn 
 to confide to Esther's attentive ear every story 
 she had ever read, or ever heard, and often, 
 even it must be added, every tale that her own 
 powers of invention could supply her with at the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS 137 
 
 moment. Thus she would sometimes tell of the 
 boy drifted out to a desert Island, to whom God 
 showed himself so specially a Father, because 
 that for the time being he could have no other, and 
 because that the chili looke I most confidently for 
 this mercy at His hands; or else her story was of 
 that other child, who, in the deep and lonely 
 woods questioned and dreamed of Christ until 
 his cross gleamed out upon her earnest eyes, 
 shining among the stars of Heaven — or it was 
 of yet another still, whose angel had walked this 
 world visibly beside her, bending his bright 
 brow to earth and folding up his seraph wings 
 whenever his charge offended against the inno- 
 cence demanded by his presence — or oftener 
 even than of these, she told of saints and martyrs 
 — beings of whom Esther had absolutely never 
 even heard before, — of those who had lived for 
 Jesus, or had died for Jesus, — of those who had 
 never sinned, or of those who had repented their 
 sinning, in sack cloth, and in ashes. Aileen had 
 not only been religiously brought up, but she was 
 also possessed of an essentially religious mind, that 
 is to say, a mind so naturally loving and con-
 
 138 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 fiding that it turned as spontaneously, as the 
 flowers to the sunshine, to the contemplation of 
 God's great love for us, and could find in every 
 incident by which that love has been unfolded, 
 as much food for pleasant fancies, as minds less fer- 
 vently constituted can discover in the fictions 
 and romances of the world. Generally, therefore, 
 the tales she chose had an abundant sprinkling 
 of the religious element in their composition ; and 
 simple and childlike as they were, they yet gave 
 to Esther ideas of right and wrong, of God, and 
 of God's relations and dealings with the human 
 race, such as she had never before dreamed of, 
 and such, as perhaps by any means less simple, 
 she would have had a difficulty in receiving. 
 
 Seldom indeed it chanced in those tales of 
 Aileen, that the mother and the Child Divine 
 were without place or mention. Now it was the 
 Babe of Bethlehem weeping in his mother's arms ; 
 then the Redeemer on the cross and the mother 
 at its foot, Pie bleeding away his life for the love 
 of man, she with the sword of sorrow in her 
 bosom, and both so sorrowful, and all for us ! 
 Aiken could be eloquent upon either theme, or
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 139 
 
 at any rate her listener thought her so, and as 
 time went on, she returned to them all the oftener, 
 that with a child's quick instinct she perceived 
 how much deeper was the impression made by 
 these on Esther's mind than hy any of her other 
 stories. Heaven was in truth as yet all too 
 high, and hell too deep for the creature she ad- 
 dressed. The joys of the one were simply be- 
 yond the power of her material nature to desire 
 or comprehend, while the threatened sorrows of 
 the other had seldom power to produce more 
 than a despairing shudder, or a ghastly at- 
 tempt at mirth, yet more distressful to the young 
 child's soul; but Esther became all a woman, at 
 least the better part of her woman's nature seemed 
 to rise spontaneously to the surface, when softly 
 and quietly, yet strongly and truthfully still, as 
 real feeling ever must, Aileen told her of that 
 sweet Lord who came from His own high Heaven 
 to die for us, and of the fair virgin mother, who 
 received him and nursed him on her spotless 
 bosom. 
 
 Aileen never paused to reason, (she was all 
 too young for that) upon the causes of the
 
 140 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 various moods of mind which her desultory talk 
 so visibly awoke in Esther; but she felt (and 
 that was a more certain guide by far) she felt 
 that her strange attendant was ever most love- 
 able, and most loving, after Christ and his 
 dear mother had been the theme of her childish 
 story. So, gradually, and almost unconsciously 
 to herself she returned to it the oftenest, and 
 dwelt upon it the longest; and the more she 
 did so, the more did poor Esther hang upon her 
 words, and turn to her as to the one sole 
 humanizing influence of her rude existence; 
 until there never was a love more faithful or 
 more fond, than that which the poor street- wan- 
 derer harboured in her bosom, for the pure and 
 guileless being committed to her keeping. Strange 
 to say, she never once questioned Aileen of her 
 past adventures, though quite resolved not to 
 allow her to be taken from her care without 
 arriving at this knowledge; at present she 
 felt it was more advantageous to the child to be 
 practised in the reserve which had been imposed 
 upon her, and therefore resolutely repressed 
 Aileen's natural yearnings to unburthen herself of
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. Hi 
 
 her secret, by pointing out the danger she would 
 incur if Mr. Sutherland, (Mr. Grey, as she always 
 called him, that being the only name by which 
 she knew him.) should chance to discover that his 
 orders had been disobeyed. And she spoke not 
 of her own life either. Not for worlds would 
 she have dimmed the brightness of that young 
 spirit, by the revealing of a single item in her 
 tale of guilt; albeit she sometimes sought to re- 
 lieve her seared conscience, and struggling 
 
 ' CO o 
 
 heart by laying her head upon Aileen's lap, and 
 after telling her with burning cheeks, and tears 
 of anguish how that she was very wicked, and 
 that she had been wicked even from her very 
 cradle — to whisper then the happier thought that 
 perhaps after all, things might have gone better 
 with her— that she might have been innocent as 
 Aileen herself, or faithful as the ship- wrecked 
 boy, or loving and true as any other of the 
 heroes and heroines of Aileen's little stories — if 
 like them she had had a visible guardian angel 
 — a mother, or an elder sister, or a father, as 
 loving as Dick, though not like him in his close 
 companionship with crime — any one, in short,
 
 142 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 even a hard and cross-grained mistress to rescue 
 her from starvation, and so arrest her footsteps 
 in the path of sin Alas! it was too late now; 
 that was ever the cry of her aching heart — too 
 late for the innocence of the guiltless, and of the 
 innocence of penance, she, as yet, knew nothing; 
 though all unconsciously to herself, its sweet and 
 hitter waters were beginning to well up spon- 
 taneously in her soul — "Too late! too late!" 
 It was the cry of her soul — the agony of her 
 newly awakened conscience — the word for ever 
 rising to her lips, the thought that often bathed 
 her face in a flood of tears as she listened to the 
 prayers of Aileen. 
 
 "Do not cry so, darling Etty," said Aileen 
 one night as she rose from her knees. " I can- 
 not benr it. It makes me think how mamma 
 must be crying too for her lost Rosa, and then 
 I cry all night long myself after you have put 
 out the candle." 
 
 " You cry for that," said Etty sadly. "But 
 believe me, you'd have had much more cause to 
 cry, my precious, if you'd never had no mother 
 at all to learn you wot was evil."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 143 
 
 " But still," replied Aileen, "I am a very little 
 girl, I know, and not at all wise either; but 
 still—" 
 
 " But still," interrupted Esther, without al- 
 lowing her to utter her little word of comfort. 
 u Little crittur as you are, and not half my 
 height or years, you've made me feel some how 
 the difference between good and bad, though you 
 ain't a told me yet, because I suppose you can- 
 not, how to make black white — to undo the sin 
 I means that a body has done already." 
 
 " It can't be undone certainly," said Aileen, 
 thoughtfully and quietly. " But it can be for- 
 given, Etty, and that is almost as well." 
 
 " Ah," moaned Esther, "that's jist where the 
 shoe's a pinching, Aily. Since I've knowed you, 
 my blessed one, I do cry out in my heart at 
 nights, and at times, if you'll believe me, ;ill 
 night long, I do, to be forgiven. But who's to 
 tell me that I am so? and (for I may as well 
 tell you everything at once), to one like I, with 
 a sin for every day of the year, and sommut 
 over and above to spare besides, it's dreadful, it 
 is, not to feel sartain sure about it."
 
 14 4 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Happily for Esther's permanent good, there 
 was not only a native simplicity in Aileen's 
 heart, which never permitted her palliating what 
 she thought the truth, by way of soothing the 
 feelings of her companion, but she was also, in 
 fact, far too young to be able to measure or even 
 comprehend the agony of remorse, which day 
 after day that they spent together, surged higher 
 and higher in Esther's soul. Now, therefore, she 
 only echoed the poor girl's words, " It is dread- 
 ful !" and then went on : 
 
 " Yes, dear Etty, it would be dreadful to feel 
 unforgiven. But that we never need, you know, 
 for if we only tell our sins in confession, and re- 
 solve never to commit them any more, G-od has 
 promised to forgive, and so we may feel certain 
 that He will!" 
 
 u Wot tell our sins — every one of 'em?" cried 
 Esther. 
 
 " It would be no use to tell only some, dear 
 Etty." 
 
 " Dick would never allow of me doing that !" 
 cried Esther almost angrily; "why he's been 
 art and part, he has, in every black deed as I've
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 145 
 
 ever done for these ten years past an' more, and 
 it would be all as one as peaching upon him to 
 tell 'em to any one else wotever." 
 
 Aileen tried to make her comprehend some- 
 thing of the sacred secresy of confession, but 
 Esther would hardly listen. The idea of volun- 
 tary disclosure was naturally terrible to one 
 whose mode of life made her dread betrayal as 
 the worst of evils; and she continued vehemently 
 to protest " that not to save body and soul toge- 
 ther would she utter a word to the disparagement 
 of Dick," until finding tjiat Aileen, instead of 
 answering had laid her head on her bosom, and 
 was weeping quietly on that place of refuge, she 
 broke off her angry exclamations to ask in her 
 quietest and most affectionate manner : 
 
 " Wot ails my darlin ? Wot ails my precious 
 one? Won't you tell your own poor Etty?" 
 
 " I can't," said the sobbing child, " for I don't 
 well know myself. But I am weary and sad, 
 dear Esther. It is so long since I've been shut 
 up here, and the air seems all on fire." 
 
 Esther rose, and carrying Aileen to the 
 window, unclosed the lattice, and suffered the 
 
 VOL. I, H
 
 146 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 cool night air to blow in upon her forehead. 
 One or two roses, out of season, were blooming 
 on the neglected tree, as it hung loosely here and 
 there suspended by chance nails from the wall. 
 These Esther gathered and placed in Aileen's 
 feverish fingers. 
 
 " Oh, how bright and cool they look !" cried 
 Aileen, looking for the moment as if she herself 
 was reviving in the freshness of their bloom. 
 "It reminds me of beauty and the beast, the 
 first story you ever told me after I came here; 
 do you remember, Etty?" 
 
 "And I am the beast, I suppose," Esther an- 
 swered with a mournful smile. 
 
 " No, that you are not, no more than I am 
 beauty !" cried Aileen eagerly. " But oh, dear 
 Esther, even the beast was not so cruel as to 
 shut up beauty in a close hot room like this. 
 She at least had flowers and waterfalls to look 
 at, and beautiful gardens and lawns and woods 
 to walk in." 
 
 " And a beast t > eat her up like nothing at 
 all when she came back," Esther ventured to in- 
 terpose.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 147 
 
 " But he didn't eat her up in the end, yon 
 know, and I don't believe he meant to do it at all 
 even in the beginning," replied Aileen as ear- 
 nestly as if she were discussing an historical 
 fact, and clearing a real character from unjust 
 aspersions; "and so, dear Esther, in some things 
 beauty was much better off than I am, for I shall 
 die if I am left here much longer, I know I shall; 
 I never can breathe rightly in this hot, close 
 room, and when you are not with me I feel as if 
 I were dying already of weariness and sorrow." 
 
 Esther looked anxiously at her as she uttered 
 these last few words, and saw that in truth 
 anxiety and confinement were already making 
 fearful ravages upon her appearance. She made 
 no direct reply, however, but leaving the room 
 soon afterwards, returned in a very few minutes 
 with a cloak and bonnet in her hand. 
 
 " See here," she said with a half smile, " never 
 you talk again as if Etty were worse nor a 
 beast to you, but cover yourself up in these ere 
 thingummies, and I'll take you for a little outing 
 on the common." 
 
 "Outing, dear Etty — do you really mean that 
 H 2
 
 148 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 I shall go out for a walk?" cried the delighted 
 child. "• But it is quite dark," she added 
 glancing timidly through the casement — " and 
 the stars are beginning to appear already." 
 
 " Well, then," responded Esther, in her most 
 cheery manner, "as we carn't order out the sun 
 to light us, wot is to hinder we from walking in 
 the star-light?" 
 
 " Oh nothing," cried Aileen, joyfully. "It will 
 be almost more amusing I think than daylight. 
 Newer, certainly it will be — for I don't remem- 
 ber ever to have taken a walk — a regular walk 
 you know, by starlight." 
 
 " I believe you," Etty answered with that inde- 
 scribable touch of sadness which she so often and 
 so unconsciously infused into her expressions. 
 " Contrary -wise, I should say, as you've been 
 among them as deemed the werry sunshine above 
 your head scarce good enough to touch ye — God 
 help you and them, for the dark rough days is 
 on you now, and no one to lighten them but poor, 
 sinful Esther." 
 
 And as if to compensate for the ill-tricks of 
 fortune to which she had alluded, it was with a
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 149 
 
 double tenderness in her manner that Esther 
 proceeded to envelope Aileen in the wrappings 
 she had brought; after which, taking her in her 
 arms, she carried her down the creaking stair- 
 case, and so out through the narrow passage into 
 the free, fresh air beyond. 
 
 It was a lovely evening, with just such an air 
 of quiet sadness in its gloom as harmonized well 
 with the mood of Esther. The moon had not 
 yet risen, but the stars showed all the brighter 
 for her absence, and notwithstanding the season 
 of the year, the air came over the heath so softly 
 that even Aileen's India-nursed constitution 
 did not suffer from the contact. On the contrary, 
 her spirits rose the moment her foot touched 
 the heather, and she would have run on and 
 laughed aloud in the exuberance of her childish 
 gladness if Esther had not held her fast, entreat- 
 ing her to move quietly until they were out of 
 sight and hearing of any chance occupant of the 
 mansion they had quitted. This was enough for 
 Aileen; and repressing the vehement desire of 
 her young heart to shout and sing, she walked 
 in silence until having ascertained by a long,
 
 150 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 cautious look that they had left the Red-house 
 considerably in the rear, she ventured at last to 
 whisper: — 
 
 " May I speak now, Esther? " 
 
 Esther nodded her permission, and the child 
 went on. 
 
 " You said the men would peach upon you to 
 Dick if they saw me out. What is the meaning 
 of that? I thought peach was nothing but a kind 
 of fruit." 
 
 U T didn't ought to have said it to you, Aileen. 
 I had ought to have said, that they would tell 
 him you were out." 
 
 " But why oughtn't you to have said it," per- 
 sisted Aileen, whose curiosity was not easily 
 satisfied. u There's no harm in saying it, is 
 there?" 
 
 " No great harm, surelie," said Esther. " But 
 then the r e ain't too many of my words as I can 
 say as much for, and so you see, Aileen, I try 
 to use none of 'em at all when I talk to you, for 
 I wouldn't have you grow up to use my lingo, not 
 for the universe — stars and all." 
 
 "Many of your words?" repeated Aileen.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 151 
 
 " What words, I wonder? Sometimes certainly 
 you do say words that I can't understand, and 
 that I never even heard before. " 
 
 "Aye," Esther answered, with a little touch of 
 bitterness, not against Aileen, but against her own 
 evil destinies, in her manner. u You carn't make 
 a silk pnrse out of a sow's ear, and them words 
 do siick like burrs to my tongue whether Fwishes 
 or not. But they ain't yours, my birdie, so you 
 mustn't use 'em. No ! nor ask their meaning 
 neither, of me nor any one else no more. Will 
 you pass me your word for that, Aileen? " 
 
 "I will," repeated Aileen, feeling again that 
 confused sort of fear which many of Esther's 
 words and ways impressed upon her. " But I 
 wish you would tell me why ? " 
 
 "Why? why?" the other impatiently re- 
 peated ! " Because, they ain't words fit for a 
 christian child to utter — that's the cause — and 
 the why — and more than enough I thinks. Don't 
 you, Aileen? 
 
 " But you are a christian, too," persisted Aileen, 
 to whom the word peach both in its original ac- 
 ceptation, and in Esther's free translation of it,
 
 152 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 sounded so very innocent, that for a moment she 
 was tempted to think the latter over scrupulous 
 and particular on the subject of language. 
 
 u Achristian! arel?" responded Esther. "I'd 
 be werry thankful if you could make that clear, 
 Aileen — but I never did hear myself called such 
 before, and I don't believe there is any one here 
 abouts, except yourself, that would even think 
 of putting that good word upon me." 
 
 " At any rate," continued Aileen, to whom 
 this last observation was simply incomprehen- 
 sible, a if your words are bad for me, they must 
 be bad for you as well, and you oughn't to use 
 them either, Etty." 
 
 " Havn't I telled you already," said Esther 
 bitterly, " that them words is a kind of second- 
 natur to me, and slip off my tongue before I 
 even guesses that they are on it. But with you 
 it is different altogether, Aileen — you know 
 nothing of them— words and meaning — you 
 know nothing of them, no more nor if you was 
 a babby still, and that's why I wants you never 
 to begin them, which is much easier, let me tell 
 you, than to forget them arter you've been teached
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 153 
 
 them. Lor' bless us, wot is that," she cried, 
 interrupting herself, while Aileen screamed aloud 
 as a small dark figure popped up from behind a 
 clump of furze-bush, as suddenly as if it had 
 risen from the bowels of the earth itself. 
 
 As a matter of course, Aileen clung tightly 
 to her protectress, entreating her to go back ; but 
 after one keen scrutinising glance, the latter 
 pronounced the unearthly looking vision which 
 had appalled her, to be only "poor Jim a gathering 
 chick-weed for the market," and instantly greeted 
 him with a kind, — 
 
 " Good evening, Jim, you are late on the hill 
 to-night, gathering chick-weed for the birdies, 
 ain't you? " 
 
 The boy raised his blue eyes to hers. They 
 were large and lustrous, yet with a wandering ex- 
 pression in them visible even in that uncertain 
 star-light. 
 
 " Ough ! aye ! " he responded after a moment's 
 thought, " Up early and down late — that's ever 
 and always the poor boy's song, if he wouldn't 
 want to thry a spell in the 4 house.' " 
 
 " But I thought you was kept at home for the 
 h 5
 
 154 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 most part to help mother at her trade. She's 
 a hoot stitcher, aint she — " 
 
 " Troth is she, and so am I," he answered. 
 " Leastways, when there are boots enough for 
 the stitchin of two — " 
 
 He paused a moment as if collecting his 
 thoughts, and then proceeded in a confidential 
 manner, — 
 
 " T wouldn't dare for to say it lh the big city 
 below there, Hetty, but sure the masther we work 
 wid is a hard man he is, and he gave me next 
 door to nothing at all for the work mother and 
 I done for him to-day. And that's why I'm up 
 here unbeknowns't to anyone, just to see if I 
 couldn't get a handful of chick-weed to add to it, 
 for the mornin' market." 
 
 " But Lizy is the weed-seller, ain't she? and 
 are you sure as you knows the harticle when 
 you sees it, my man? " replied Esther, with some 
 doubt visible in her manner as to the boy's 
 efficiency for his self-elected occupations. 
 
 " Ah, thin, and why wouldn't I, Hetty? don't 
 I know daisies and boothercups, and-tom-and-till, 
 and pansies ; and why wouldn't I know chick-
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 155 
 
 weed when I seen it, I wondher?" the boy 
 answered with some annoyance visible in his 
 manner at Esther's evident incredulity. 
 
 " Why wouldn't you indeed," replied the girl 
 unwilling to offend him. " And I sees as you do 
 too," she added, taking a handful of the green- 
 weed out of his basket, and examining it by the 
 star-light. " But who on 'arth in that great cold 
 hearted city yonder, do you suppose will be green 
 enough to buy such poor straggling weedies as 
 these for their twitterers? Why, man alive, the 
 werry sparrows on the house-top would be too 
 sareey to look at 'em." 
 
 u Faix and meself doesn't know before hand 
 who'll buy, or who won't," the boy answered 
 composedly. u But any way — may be God 'ill 
 put it into the hearts of some one to take them 
 for pity sake, though I will say this for the 
 quality, that they do be often so busy taking 
 care of themselves, that sorrow the ghost of a 
 thought they have left to throw away on the 
 poor." 
 
 u The quality," repeated Esther, as if she 
 hardly had caught his meaning. " Oh, its the
 
 156 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 nobs I daresay, as you are a meaning to speak 
 of." 
 
 " Quality or nobs, sure it's all the same ! Lords 
 and ladies, I mane, that do be always livin in 
 clover, and know next to nothing of winter, 
 barring the ice on the Sarpentine. Musha, and 
 isn't it the world's wondher, Hetty, dear," con- 
 tinued the boy, as a new idea struck him, 
 " how they do rowl themselves up in their fur 
 things afore they venture upon it. Many's the 
 time I've stood there and watched them, the teeth 
 chattering in my head for cowld and hunger, 
 and myself scarce able to keep from making a 
 grab at the coats on their backs, just to tache 
 them to remember the boy that had none." 
 
 " Ah," replied Esther, half as it seemed in 
 sorrow, and half in scorn. u There be hard 
 hearts in Lonnon as don't altogether belong to 
 lords and ladies only. From the city bank to the 
 huckster's stall, it's just the same; all so busy a 
 driving at their own consarns, that if you'll be- 
 lieve me they'd be ready to quarrel with the 
 werry blessed sun of Heaven itself, so only as it 
 seemed to come between them and their golden
 
 HOME AXD THE HOMEL. 157 
 
 gains. WeD, I ain't never likely to be rich my- 
 self, and wot's more, having knowed starvation. 
 I've learnt to be pitiful to them as are sfl i . 
 here's i copper for you. Jim. it's the" 
 only one I've got about me; and n: 
 
 cut off home as : :an, for there do 
 
 be folks upon the hill at night sometimes, that 
 you'll be none the better, nor the richer for tail- 
 ing in with ! " 
 
 The boy himself seemed seriously to incline to 
 the same opinion. He fixed Li- eyea upon her 
 face with that strange expression half-vague, 
 half-intelligent, that they so often wore, and 
 then with a murmured, " Good-night, avourneen, 
 may the poor boy's blessing lie light on your 
 pillow this night/' he manfully shouldered his 
 basket and prepared to trudge towards the 
 tant city, while Esther on her part, taking Aileen's 
 hand, returned slowly and reluctantly to the 
 L-hc use.
 
 158 HOME AND THE HOMELESS, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "Who is he, Esther?" asked Aileen, as they 
 pursued their walk. " Who is he? And do you 
 know what his name is? Do, dear Esther, tell 
 me all about him?" 
 
 " Something I do know about him for sartain, 
 Aileen, which is to say I know his father gets 
 drunk with Dick at whiles, and then the mother 
 is sure to come in at the end of the evening with 
 her poor pale face and tattered rags, a cry in' and 
 beseechin' of him to go home quiet, and to lave 
 her summut of her own earnins, if so be as it 
 were a few pence only for the buying of vittles 
 for her young'uns."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 159 
 
 "And does he, Esther?" asked Aileen, (much 
 moved by this little glimpse into the life and 
 sufferings of the poor), u does he go home with 
 her? or what does he do if he doesn't?" she 
 added, her quick eye catching the very decided 
 shake of the head by which Esther negatived the 
 previous question. 
 
 " Wot does he do? " repeated Esther. " He 
 just knocks her down if he ain't too far gone to 
 lift his hand against her, and 'case he is — why 
 thin, poor soul, she has the best of it, for she 
 never leaves him until wot with coaxing and 
 soft words on her part, and cursing an,d blas- 
 pheming on his, she gets him clear out of the 
 ale-house, and back to her miserable home 
 again." 
 
 u Poor mother, how unhappy she must be," 
 said Aileen, gently. " A drunken husband and 
 starving children, how very, very unhappy she 
 must be." 
 
 " Well, for unhappy, I don't rightly know," 
 said Esther, doubtfully. " She never will own 
 to being wot one calls real down-right unhappy, 
 and when I tell her that she is, she always says
 
 160 HOME AND THE HOMELESS, 
 
 that God knows best, and that her children are 
 good and she has much to be thankful for in 
 regard to them; and that as to her husband, 
 Jesus will change his heart p'raps some day when 
 she least expects it; a thing as I don't in the 
 least believe myself, for though I have heerd say 
 as Jesus were a werry nice gentleman in his day, 
 and did a sight of good besides, I don't be- 
 lieve he no more nor any other man could make 
 black, white, or put a sober heart into Harry 
 Darville's drunken body." 
 
 " Esther ! Esther ! " cried Aileen, in a tone of 
 horror, " you shouldn't talk that way of Jesus ! 
 Don't you know that He is the Son of God, and 
 God himself, and therefore we must never speak 
 of Him as if he were a common creature like 
 ourselves." 
 
 " I means no unrespect I'm sure, Aileen ; but 
 I've knowed scores of drunkards such as Harry, 
 and I never knowed one that didn't come to a 
 bad end yet, so I don't see how he is to escape it 
 neither." 
 
 " Esther," said Aileen, forgetting Harry Dar- 
 ville as another idea occurred to her, " you must
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 161 
 
 be very very good in yourself to have known 
 so many wicked people, and to keep good still. " 
 
 " Good ! good I" cried Esther impatiently, 
 *' haven't I telled you already, Aileen, that when 
 you ain't at my side, I'm as bad as the rest of 
 them. No, no, there is no goodness in me, it is 
 only them innocent ways and words of yourn, 
 birdie, that has learned me to mourn over 
 many things that for all that, are a second sort 
 of natur to me still." 
 
 " For all that, Esther, you must be good, quite 
 in the inside of your heart, I mean, though the 
 outside life may be wicked still." 
 
 " I b'leive you, child," cried Esther quickly, 
 M I'm sure and sartain summutor other is always 
 a crying out within me against the life I am 
 forced to lead. But bless 'ee, dear, where's the 
 use of that, when there's no one nigh at hand to 
 learn me better; can you, Aileen?" 
 
 " I don't know," the child answered in a 
 puzzled voice, " but I know you must be good 
 and obedient, and charitable to every one." 
 
 But here Esther interrupted her by laughing 
 wildly.
 
 162 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " And so that's your lesson is it, Aileen ? God 
 help you, child, wot with your innocence, ;ind 
 my lack of it, there ain't no great chance of my 
 being teached my moralities too soon, I'm afeard. 
 But ain't there nothing else now, that you would 
 like for to learn me." 
 
 " We should be honest, Esther, and never do 
 anything to anybody that we wouldn't like some- 
 body to do to ourselves." 
 
 " That's a lesson that never was teached in 
 the school I comes from," Esther gravelyanswered, 
 and deceived by her mock solemnity Aileen went 
 on: 
 
 " The catechism would tell you all the rest, 
 dear Esther " 
 
 " Oh, it would, would it," Esther again inter- 
 rupted her to say, with the same lurking mockery 
 in her words and manner. 
 
 " But I haven't got mine here," Aileen went 
 on rather hurriedly, for she was beginning to 
 feel a little confused at the strange way in which 
 Esther was accepting of her teaching. " And I 
 am so sorry. But oh, dear Esther, one thing I 
 must say, that is, that if you would but say some
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 163 
 
 short prayers every clay, I am sure God would 
 listen to you, and send some one or other to teach 
 you to he good. I am quite sure he would, 
 Esther, if you asked him." 
 
 a Will you learn me a prayer then, Aileen?" 
 Esther turned suddenly round and asked her; 
 M I should like to know the one you says every 
 morning. It seems a very nice one." 
 
 "That is the 'Our Father/ Esther; Jesus 
 taught it to us himself, because he loves us like 
 a father, and he wants us to feel exactly towards 
 him as if we were his children; and so indeed we 
 ought, because we really are, only as papa used 
 to tell me sometimes, we do not remember it 
 always as we should do." 
 
 " Aye, aye," said Esther, " some of us are his 
 children, surelie. No one can look upon you, 
 Aileen, and not feel as if you must be precious 
 in his sight, as the werry apple of his eyes; but 
 if there do be a few as he has nourselled and 
 houselled like, and kept from care and canker, 
 there he's a many and many more, my lassie, as he 
 seems to have set less store by — many and many," 
 Esther repeated in her musing manner, " as he
 
 164 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 has put out to nurse, as it were, in the gutter 
 mud of the werry streets, with only sich wittles 
 for their living as they can beg or steal — only 
 sich beds for their sleeping in as old archways, 
 or door steps can yield them — and can you tell 
 me, Aileen, the reason of this difference, or why, 
 if God is the Good-Father-God you talks of, he 
 ain't the Good Father-God to all, both rich and 
 poor alike?" 
 
 Poor Aileen — no wonder she felt puzzled 
 now ! 
 
 Unconsciously Esther had touched upon a sub- 
 ject which has troubled larger brains and saddened 
 larger sympathies than she or the child could 
 boast of. The doctrine of original sin, and of 
 man's free will, and of final retribution for good 
 and evil, which alone offers any reasonable expla- 
 nation of the sorrow and suffering that stalk 
 rampant through the world ; of the oppression of 
 the good, and of the triumph of the wicked, by 
 which our faith is so often tried, and our sense 
 of justice wounded ; this doctrine which can never 
 be put aside without plunging the soul into far 
 greater difficulties than those from whence it is
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 165 
 
 seeking refuge, was of course as yet only floating 
 dimly through Aileen's brain. She had indeed a 
 certain vague idea on the subject but it was not 
 sufficiently defined to be put into words, therefore, 
 instinctively she fell back upon that childlike 
 trust in the wise beneficence of the Almighty, 
 which is the loveliest aspect faith ever puts on, 
 in His regard, and the truest definition also of 
 our own position and of his. Of ours as the 
 creature children of his adoption; and of his as 
 the Great Creator, or as Esther quaintly termed 
 it, the Good-Father- God of all. 
 
 " I cannot tell you, Esther, why some people 
 are happy and some are not, if that is what you 
 want to know : but I remember when poor papa 
 was dying, and I was crying very much, and 
 mama too busy and too sad to attend to me, a 
 great friend of ours, a very great friend indeed, 
 Esther, took me on his knee and talked to me a 
 great deal about this very thing, because I 
 thought it so hard that papa should not get well 
 when I was so longing for it, and he told me 
 then, and I have often thought about it since, 
 especially since I have been here, that we never
 
 166 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 should know until the end of all, why God grants 
 us or refuses our wishes." 
 
 "And then?" asked Esther anxiously. 
 
 "And then," replied Aileen, hesitating a little 
 as she tried to recall the lessons of her teacher, 
 "and then, when God judges all men, He will 
 show us why He did this or that for us, and in 
 this way, Mr. St. Clair said, perhaps we should 
 come to find out that the very things we had dis- 
 liked the most in this life, poverty, for instance, 
 or sickness, had not only been sent us for our 
 greater good, but that perhaps even, we never 
 should have been saved without them." 
 
 " Well, I hopes so, I am sure," said Esther, 
 coolly. " But this I must say, Aileen, it 'ill 
 take a deal of teaching to make me believe suf- 
 fering cold, and hunger, and want of all sorts 
 can be for the good of any crittur wotsoever, 
 either in this world or the next one." 
 
 " God loves the poor," was Aileen's soft reply. 
 " He made His own son poor to show us how 
 He loved them, and Mr. St. Clair told me, and 
 indeed I knew it quite well before, that if 
 they were patient in spite of suffering, and
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 167 
 
 honest in spite of poverty, that then in that 
 case God would give them great graces to make 
 them good in this life, and great rewards for 
 having been so in the next." 
 
 " And suppose they haven't been learnt all 
 this?" said Esther, with a groan, u suppose they 
 haven't been learnt it? Oh! Aileen, Aileen, 
 how was I to know when I was turned loose 
 upon the London streets, famine struck, naked, 
 houseless, a bit of a child not half higher nor 
 yourself, how was I to know that riches was not 
 a blessing and poverty not a curse? And above 
 all the rest, how was I to know that the rich 
 were not the born enemies of the poor, a taking 
 all and leaving nothing, and for that werry 
 reason lawful to be robbed, snared, set upon, 
 and defrauded, whenever and wherever itwarn't 
 quite impossible to do so." 
 
 " Indeed, it was quite impossible that you 
 should have known better," replied Aileen, 
 soothingly. " But it is not impossible to be 
 sony now that you do know, and try and do 
 better for the future. And, Etty, darling, I 
 remember so well papa's once telling me that he
 
 168 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 thought every one had a chance at one time or 
 another of becoming good. He said it might be 
 only a good thought, or an accidental word that 
 turned our minds to better things — our oppor- 
 tunity he used to call it — and that all the good 
 or bad of our future lives might depend upon 
 the way we used it. I cannot explain exactly, 
 but I think I know what he meant, tho' I'm 
 afraid I do not make it very plain to you." 
 
 The girl made no reply, and they walked on 
 for some time in silence, but just as The Old 
 Red House came into view she paused, and 
 laying her hand on Aileen's shoulder, said in a 
 tone of softened earnestness, very different from 
 the bitter mockery of her previous manner: 
 
 " Aileen, I've been a thinking all this time 
 that may happen there's sommit of truth in wot 
 you says, and so perhaps (it seems queer enough 
 to suppose it, Birdie), but perhaps you are my 
 opportunity, and that if I don't take heed to 
 what you say now, God, may be, will send me 
 nobody arterwards to tell me more." 
 
 " Oh ! Esther," cried Aileen, in some puzzle 
 and distress at this appeal from one so much
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 169 
 
 older, and in all worldly matters so much wiser 
 than herself, " Oh, Esther, I am such a very 
 little girl ! How I do wish God would send some 
 one older and wiser than I am to teach you; and 
 he will, too ; I am sure he will, if you will only 
 pray to Him every day to do so." 
 
 " You shall learn me how, Aileen," Esther 
 answered, and softly unclosing the garden gate, 
 and cautioning the child to silence she carried 
 her once more up-stairs, and replaced her in her 
 prison chamber. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 170 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER YIL 
 
 Esther was as good as her word that night, and 
 it was a touching thing to see the tall womanly- 
 looking girl so deep in the world's worst lore, 
 and so roughened by its usage, taking with the 
 docility of a child her first lesson in the sacred 
 duty of prayer from the lips of the little girl 
 beside her. The prayer which she sought to 
 learn was a prayer intended for all men, and 
 therefore while on account of its very simplicity 
 most fitting to the innocent child who taught it, 
 it took yet a fuller and deeper meaning on the 
 lips of the sinner by whom it was repeated. 
 .Never before had the word ' Father ' as a
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 171 
 
 direct communication between her soul and its 
 Creator passed the lips of Esther, and in giving 
 it to him now for the first time in her torn and 
 struggling life, she gave Him, with the strange 
 unspeakable reverence which the name of the 
 Father God inspires in all who are unhackneyed 
 to its usage, just such a fund of fresh undefined 
 affection, as a loving child often bestows uncon- 
 sciously on the natural author of its existence. 
 Each of the succeeding short petitions seemed to 
 touch a new chord in the girl's untutored heart. 
 Some of them, indeed, she could not entirely 
 understand, though they gave her, perhaps for 
 that very reason, a dim consciousness of depend- 
 ence on a Superior Power, very soothing to her 
 wearied spirit; but others on the contrary came 
 home at once to all her conscious necessities 
 of mind or body, and when, repeating the words 
 after Aileen, she asked her "Father in Heaven" 
 for that daily bread which, till then, she had 
 never even dreamed of seeking, save by force 
 or fraud — for the forgiveness of sins which had 
 never before been cancelled, excepting on the 
 tread mill; for deliverance from evil, which she 
 i 2
 
 172 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 had always hitherto considered as a necessary 
 consequence of her position in society ; tear? were 
 in her eyes and in every tremulous inflection of 
 her voice, and a deep, though as yet almost un- 
 conscious love took possession of her heart, never 
 •again to be driven from that stronghold. And 
 that love was faith, though as yet a faith most 
 vague and undefined. She loved, and therefore 
 she believed in the beloved one, in His right to 
 command, and His power to enforce. But this 
 revelation of His existence included no precise 
 revelation of her duties in His regard. That is 
 only to be found in the church which He has 
 appointed as His medium of communication with 
 His creatures, and therefore it was that Esther 
 loved, yet knew not as yet how to act upon that 
 love — wept for her deep offences of the past, 
 and yet in the midst of her very tears would 
 probably offend Him still. But never again so 
 deeply ! Conscience had been too thoroughly 
 aroused for that, not quite an accurate conscience, 
 perhaps; but still a conscience that could accu- 
 rately decide upon many points where it had 
 hitherto been stifled by ignorance, or made dumb
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 173 
 
 by passion. Henceforward neither force nor 
 persuasion would have power to induce her to 
 take an active part in the deeper villanies of her 
 companions, but she could not as yet (how could 
 it be expected) entirely comprehend that she 
 would be sinning almost as deeply as if she had 
 done so, by conniving at them when accomplished 
 by others. 
 
 When therefore Dick made his appearance at 
 the Eed-house that very night, and told her that 
 Mr. Grey, not being satisfied of the safety of 
 Aileen in her present abode, had insisted upon 
 her being removed to one of tUeir lowest tramp- 
 houses in the city, though she besought him as 
 if her very life were depending on his decision, 
 to refuse compliance with this monstrous pro- 
 position, she yet never for a moment contem- 
 plated disobedience, and was forced in the end 
 to content herself with his promise that the child 
 should never be ill-treated, and that so far as he 
 could prevent it, nothing should be done to per- 
 vert or degrade her. 
 
 " Though it's as much as my wages is worth to 
 do so," he added rather sulkily. "For Mr.
 
 J 74 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Grey has set his heart it seems on her knowing 
 them werry things which naturally, Hetty, you 
 are so unwilling to learn her." 
 
 " Drat the man ! " cried Esther, indignantly ; 
 " but he ain't no man surelie, but a reg'lar 
 viper to concoct such a black piece of willany 
 toward a innocent child. But you won't join 
 him, Dick, I knows you won't. You has your 
 faults to be sure, as who hasn't T wonder? but 
 you ain't never a one to demean yourself by a 
 plotting and plotting against a babby like that? " 
 
 " Well I ain't no more butter hearted than 
 any other cove that I knows of," responded 
 Dick ; "but it does seem a ugly job it does, to try 
 and smother such a lily as that in the slum of a 
 tramp-house. Still I have a dooty to perform 
 towards my employer, and I ain't never the man 
 for to shirk a dooty. Mr. Grey says, says he, 
 ' you do so and so, Dick, (no need to enter into 
 further partic'lars just now, my gal) and I will 
 give you so and so for a doing of it when it's 
 done.' That's wot he says, and, in course it fol- 
 lows you see, that if I don't manage to finish 
 the job, I ain't werry likely to touch the jingo."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 175 
 
 " And those friends of hers that were to come 
 down handsome when they seed as you'd per- 
 tected her from the wiles of that willin. In 
 course, you've given up that spec, Dick?" said 
 Esther, returning as a last resource to the idea 
 which had so greatly tempted him the first time 
 they discussed the subject of Aileeu's detention 
 together. 
 
 "Not a bit of it," cried Dick. " I've got a plan 
 in my head, my gal, by which we shall be en 
 abled to take shares in both coaches, and to butter 
 our bread on both sides at once, a thing as is 
 next to impossible to be done in this 'ere perfessun 
 of our'n. But we'll do it this time, lass, we'll 
 do it," he continued, rubbing his hands together 
 with real professional gusto; " and won't it be 
 prime, that's all?" 
 
 " You won't tho', if you have her many days 
 at the tramp-house," said Esther dexterously 
 humouring his projects to make him fall in with 
 her own. " She is precious quick of hearing, is 
 Aileen, and sure to pick up all sorts of bad things 
 like winking, if she's kept there long." 
 
 a But she shan't be," cried Dick, "for I only
 
 176 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 wants her there for a week or two just to throw 
 dirt in the eyes\of our principal, and ar'ter that, 
 Hetty, we'll give her a spell in the country when 
 we goes on our tramp." 
 
 " In a week or two ! are you certain, Dick, 
 that it won't be for longer?" Esther questioned 
 doubtfully. 
 
 u Sartin sure; and for this reason chiefly, that 
 the beaks have got their eyes upon some of us, 
 and won't leave us long to ourselves if we venture 
 to stay. That will be reason enough to give 
 to our employer, and for the rest he need never 
 know that the kinchen is under your partic'lar 
 pertection, and that you never suffers nothing 
 worser nor the air of summer to light upon her 
 bead." 
 
 "Ah! " said Esther, with a tenderness very 
 beautiful in one like her, " it is a werry tender 
 little head it is, and should be cared for accordin, 
 Dick." 
 
 " And so it shall," said Dick, who was 
 growing to feel extremely benevolent under the 
 stimulous of a double gain in prospect. " So it 
 shall be, wotever may happen to light upon
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 177 
 
 our'n. But our'n is made of harder stuff, and 
 so, in course we needn't be no ways so partic'lar 
 about them, need we, Hetty ? " 
 
 u No ways so particlar, surelie not/' said Es- 
 ther, slowly, and with that feeling of indescrib- 
 able sadness which always came over her now, 
 when the sinful nature of her past life was put 
 more distinctly than usual before her. u Being 
 such as we bees, why should we ? And yet, 
 arter all, Dick, if the ways we are learned in 
 are the ways that we goes in, perhaps I 
 shouldn't have been so unlike to she if my 
 schooling hadn't been different altogether? " 
 
 " That's just it," said Dick. "For do you know, 
 Hetty, it's my firm belief that if you'd been 
 learned in the same way that she was, you'd 
 have been just as good an' innocent this werry 
 moment as that ere little crittur as looks like a 
 angel, if angels there be, and I like when I sees 
 her to think that there are." 
 
 Tears rushed into Esther's eyes, and the strong 
 throb of her heart had well nigh choked her! 
 To think that by any possibility she could have 
 been like that child, and that yet she was not. 
 15
 
 178 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " Oh, Dick, you are only joking," she sobbed 
 out at last. "It is impossible quite that I ever 
 could have been like to she? " 
 
 " And why impossible, my darter," he re- 
 plied in that tone of honest, rough affection, 
 which was the spell that bound Esther so en- 
 tirely to his service. " Kinchens (babbies I 
 mean) are as like one another, as like as eggs, 
 and if all are innocent at the out-set, in course 
 the only difference between 'em arterwards must 
 be, that the ones have been kept so, and the 
 t'others warn't. And you were of the last, my 
 gal, and bad enough may be when first I found 
 you, tho' for all that, it touches my heart at 
 times to think that wotever you were, I have 
 made you worser." 
 
 " It's no fault of yours, for all that, Dick," 
 replied Esther, touched by the remorse which his 
 words implied. " You couldn't have teached me 
 better, because you knowed no better yourself, 
 while there was many a one to learn me worser, 
 so that if you'd never set eyes on me I still must 
 have growed to be wot I am." 
 
 " Well, my gal, never say die about it!" cried
 
 HOME AND THE HOxMELESS. 179 
 
 Dick cheerily. " Whatever you are you're good 
 enough for my books, and too good may be, so 
 cut off at once and get the young 'un ready for 
 a start. It is only for a couple of weeks at the 
 outside," he added, catching a glimpse of Esther's 
 reluctant face, " and then we'll get her into the 
 country among the birds and flowers, that look 
 all as one to my mind, as brothers and sisters to 
 such as she." 
 
 u Don't they tho'," cried Esther, pausing with 
 her foot on the first step of the ladder. " I 
 never look at she without thinking of the wild 
 roses just as we see 'em after leaving Lonnon, so 
 fair and slight on the rough stem that bears 
 'ein, with may be the new cut hay smelling 
 sweetly around. Ah, me ! the thorny briar ain't 
 a more ungainly keeper for the pretty blossom 
 thau such as we are for that blessed little child 
 up stairs." 
 
 " Go along with you," cried Dick good- 
 naturedly, " and don't be making such disparag- 
 ing remarks on present company, yourself in 
 partic'lar, as is worth the whole lot of us put 
 together."
 
 180 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Long ere he had brought this consolatory re- 
 mark to a conclusion, however, Esther was 
 standing by Aileen's pillow, her face as pale as 
 death, and her dark eyes looking darker and 
 more stormy than ever in the conflicting passions 
 of the hour. A ray of moonlight was falling 
 softly over the sleeping child, touching her hair 
 with a golden glory, while the wild rose hue it 
 revealed upon her cheek gave her more than ever 
 the look of the delicate flower to which she was 
 associated in the fancy of her companions. 
 Esther looked until she could have wrung her 
 hands in anguish, while murmuring beneath her 
 breath : 
 
 " To be forced to part with her just when she 
 has learned to nestle like a frightened bird upon 
 Esther's bosom. To be forced to let her go, and 
 to have to keep smiling and smiling all the time, 
 as if it were only a May day pleasuring she was 
 sent on. A smiling and a smiling while the 
 heart is breaking, just to pervent her a breaking 
 hers as well, for I'm werry doubtful, I am, but 
 wot she will cry like nothing at all when she 
 finds she ain't to have Esther with her. Well,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 181 
 
 well, best clone soonest done, so here goes to wake 
 her. Why, Aileen ! Aileen !" she cried in as 
 cheery a voice as she could muster at the 
 moment. " Wake up, my precious! Here's 
 the moon a dancing and flutterm' in at the 
 window, as if to invite you to make merry in 
 its twinkling. Up, up, and let me dress you 
 for a journey." 
 
 " A journey?" cried Aileen, starting joyously. 
 "Oh! Esther, can it be true? Am 1 going to 
 mamma?" 
 
 " Not just yet, my butterfly," replied Esther, 
 trying to look and speak as if such a thing were 
 by no means beyond the bounds of possibility in 
 the future. " But Dick he has come back, and 
 he is going away agin (worse luck) in a couple 
 of hours, and — " but here she fairly broke down. 
 She could not get out the words she was come 
 to say ; they well nigh choked her. 
 
 " Going away again. So much the better," 
 said Aileen, with an air of inexpressible relief. 
 " Oh, Etty, I do so wish he would go away again 
 for good, and never, never come back to plague 
 us."
 
 182 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " But, my darling !" Esther now fairly at her 
 wits end blurted forth abruptly, " it is a deal 
 worser nor that, it is, for he has just been a 
 telling me he wants you for to go away along 
 with he." 
 
 But here Esther broke down again, for with a 
 fearful cry Aileen leaped suddenly out of bed, 
 and flung herself on her breast, exclaiming : 
 
 " Oh! you won't, Esther, you won't!" and the 
 poor child clung as tightly to her protectress as 
 if Dick were in bodily presence there, and tear- 
 ing her by main force away. " You won't let 
 me go alone with that dark, rough man; you 
 won't let him take me ! Oh ! Esther, say that 
 you won't! — you won't!" 
 
 " And do you think, birdie," replied Esther 
 in a low sad voice, "that I would, if it wern't 
 unpossible quite to help it? There now, don't 
 you cry so, my pretty lamb, don't now, for I 
 can't a bear to see it." 
 
 "Oh! I must, I must!" Aileen passionately 
 responded, burying her head at the same time in 
 Esther's bosom, and showing by that very action 
 how helplessly she depended on her, even at the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 183 
 
 moment when compelled by appearances to sus- 
 pect her intentions. " You to desert me, Esther ! 
 You that say you love me, and that I was be- 
 ginning to love so well !" 
 
 " But wot can I do ?" said Esther, with a 
 mixture of perplexity and impatience in her 
 manner. u Why, Heaven help your wits, child, 
 I'm quite as much in Dick's power as you are." 
 
 u You are not! — you are not!" sobbed Aileen. 
 " You can get out, you can call, you can shout 
 for assistance! Oh! if I were you, Esther, I 
 would run to the top of yonder hill, and I would 
 shout until all the town could hear me, that 
 there were thieves and robbers in this bad, 
 cruel house!" 
 
 " Aileen, I carn't," cried Esther violently, and 
 seizing the two small hands that were round her 
 neck, she grasped them so tightly in her agita- 
 tion that the child uttered perforce a low cry of 
 pain, while she went on wildly: 
 
 " Oh ! child, child ! don't you know, or havn't 
 I already telled you, that to bring the eyes of 
 others upon this house would be all as one as to 
 send Dick to prison — to the gallows, may be —
 
 184 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 over the seas at all events, miles an' miles away 
 to furren parts, a disgraced and lonely man, with 
 no one near to say, that for all his crimes an' for 
 all his evil doings, his poor Hetty was a loving 
 of him still, and would be a loving of him to the 
 werry last." 
 
 " But how can you, Esther, how can you love 
 him ?" pouted Aileen, " and he so bad and cruel 
 to your own Aileen." 
 
 " How can I? — how can I?" repeated Esther 
 pettishly. " How can I love the only human 
 crittur as has ever showed love or kindness 
 to me? Havn't I telled you, Aileen, how- 
 he' d a good word for me when all the world and 
 his wife was a hooting and a gibing of me — me, 
 a miserable, starving child, a hooting of me on 
 to prison? Or how he sarched for me again out 
 of the dark and dreary jail, and took me with 
 him to this old house, which, cruel and bad 
 as you rightly calls it, was still the only home 
 that he had to give me. Haven't I telled you 
 too, how his own coat has been often my only 
 shelter from the howling storm, or how often and 
 often he has hushed me to rest, until forgetting
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 185 
 
 altogether I was a orphan child, I slept happy 
 and peaceable on his bosom? Havn't I telled 
 you all this already, Aileen, and carn't you see 
 that bad as he'*; been to others, he has been 
 goodness itself to me, and that I should have a 
 heart blacker nor midnight if I could peach 
 upon him?" 
 
 Aileen only answered by her hopeless weeping, 
 and Esther after a moment's pause went on : 
 
 " I cannot and I will not, and if I knows 
 anything of you, Aileen, you ain't the gal to ask 
 me." 
 
 Esther had judged correctly, and Aileen en- 
 treated her no more. She was far too young to 
 be able to discriminate or decide upon the right 
 and wrong of the case as the other put it, but 
 something within her seemed to say, it could be 
 no good deed to set treachery between hearts so 
 loving and beloved,- and above all so apparently 
 dependent on each other. 
 
 Quietly, therefore, she withdrew her arms 
 from Esther's neck — quietly and gently too, 
 and then laying her head once more on her de- 
 serted pillow, wept there in silence. There was
 
 186 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 something inexpressibly touching in the action. 
 
 It was as if she had lost all hope in the other's 
 
 care, and yet would not, could not blame her for 
 
 refusing to befriend her further. The heart of 
 
 Esther smote her, — no words, no passion, no cry 
 
 of sorrow could have moved her as did that 
 
 silent, soundless weeping. 
 
 She drew Aileen once more to her arms, and 
 
 while her own tears fell like the large drops of a 
 
 thunder shower upon that innocent head, sobbed 
 
 out: 
 
 " Don't you turn that a way from me, Aileen, 
 
 don't, my darling, don't; but listen while I tells 
 
 you that though I mustn't go with you now, I'll 
 
 never desert you, never. No, my dearie, dearie," 
 
 she continued hugging Aileen convulsively in her 
 
 arms, u for wheresoever you are, or however 
 
 lonely you seems to yourself to be, yes, even 
 
 though you don't see nothing of me, believe me, 
 
 for you may, I'll not be really far off, and Hetty's 
 
 eye will be on you still, and Hetty's heart a 
 
 caring for you ever." 
 
 "And hearken to me again," she resumed 
 
 after a moment's pause for thought and breathing;
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 187 
 
 " Yes, that's right," she went on cheerfully, as 
 Aileen resolutely dried her eyes, and struck by 
 her earnest manner fixed her blue eyes on her, 
 " that's right, dry your eyes and listen, for they 
 are grave words I am a going to speak, and such as 
 I wouldn't throw lightly to a child like you. You 
 are going among bad people, Aileen; among 
 them as curse, and swear, and thieve, and drink, 
 you are a going now; but never let any of them 
 make you do as they do, not for coaxing, not for 
 beating; but no indeed I'm sure they'll not 
 hurt you," she added, feeling the shudder which 
 the bare word had sent through Aileen's frame, 
 "they'll not hurt you, lambie, yet if worser 
 comes to worst, don't, if they kill you for it, say 
 or do a dishonest thing to please 'em." 
 
 u I will not, indeed I will not," replied Aileen, 
 hushed into grave resolve by the earnest solem- 
 nity of Esther's manner. 
 
 " And never you drink, Aileen, oh, my dar- 
 ling, darling, above every other blessed thing, as 
 you love the friends who've lost you, as you hope 
 to meet them again without a stain on your life, 
 such as time and tears will never wash out,
 
 188 HOME AND TIIE HOMELESS. 
 
 " never you drink, Aileen. No doubt they will 
 try to make you, but never let them persuade 
 you to touch a drop of beer, or wine, or spirits 
 of any kind, so long as you are with them 'ere 
 divils, and Esther not at your side," 
 
 a I promise," said the child, " and then unable 
 even in the midst of her sorrows to forbear 
 smiling at the strange idea, added quickly, — 
 "But Esther, why do you talk that way? 
 I never could you know. Surely it is impossible ! 
 I never could get drunk." 
 
 Much to her surprise, however, instead of 
 joining in her mirth, Esther gravely answered : 
 
 " No one knows as hasn't tried, Aileen. But 
 here now, just wrap this old shawl round you 
 and make no noise, and I'll show you wot it is 
 to be a drunkard, and why I warns you so much 
 against it." 
 
 Aileen did as she was desired, and then Esther 
 carried her down stairs and across a grass-grown 
 court to a part of the building where she had 
 never been before. We have already hinted that 
 the Red-house was an inn in the worst sense of 
 the word, that is to say, that under cover of the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 189 
 
 external sign, it was the resort of half the 
 bad characters of London, independently of 
 the particular gang who were its ordinary in- 
 habitants. Esther was, of course, therefore 
 already quite aware that one of the rooms 
 looking out upon the court to which she had 
 brought Aileen, was occupied that very evening 
 by a party of successful pick- pockets, and that 
 their carouse was just drawing to a close. 
 Quietly unclosing the shutters, which opened on 
 the outside cf the building, she first looked in 
 herself to make sure that nothing too unseemly 
 should meet the innocent eyes she brought to 
 gaze upon the scene, and then lifting up the 
 child to the level of the casement bade her look 
 in, and learn of her own experience what thing 
 a drunkard was, and what (she did not certainly 
 use the words, but her own had much the same 
 meaning in them) was the drunkard's Heaven. 
 And Aileen did look in and learn — learn what 
 the drunkard is, in all the various phases of bis 
 career, from spnseless, idiot mirth to hopeless, 
 helpless stupor and prostration; and sick at 
 heart at the spectacle before her, she hid her
 
 190 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 face once more in Esther's bosom while she 
 whispered : 
 
 " And am I going then to live always with 
 men like these?" 
 
 " No, no," said Esther ; " but men like these 
 you will often meet, and women I'm afraid as 
 well. And there may be (I'll not deny it) bad 
 spirits and black hearts among them who, for 
 their own brutal funning will try to make you 
 do as they do, and who will think it rare sport 
 to set a babby like you a reeling drunk in liquor. 
 They may try, Aileen, but remember no one can 
 make you unless you chooses." 
 
 " They shall kill me first," said Aileen, in a 
 tone that left little doubt as to the strength of 
 her present resolution. 
 
 "'Twould be better far, believe roe, child," 
 said Esther. " But there'll be no need, my 
 precious ! For Dick, he ain't quite so bad, you 
 see, as you thought him, Dick has promised me 
 that you shan't be forced to do nothing but wot 
 you chooses, and Dick's word is as good as an 
 oath, it is. So if you'll only be good and patient 
 just for a week or two, Aileen, we two will have
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 191 
 
 a spell together in the fresh sweet country arter- 
 wards, and we'll gather butter-cups and run after 
 butterflies, and be as happy as the day is long. 
 But see now, if there isn't Dick a calling to us 
 already, and you not dressed to go with him 
 vet."
 
 192 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 We trust our readers have not entirely forgotten 
 the poor boy whom Esther accosted on the com- 
 mon, and whom it now becomes our duty to ac- 
 company in spirit on his route towards London. 
 A long and weary walk he had before him, ere 
 he could reach Gray's Buildings, and the wretched 
 lodging house in that wretched place which he 
 called his home. The door was still on the latch 
 when at last he paused before it, they who abode 
 within being not very particular as to hours, 
 and closing it gently behind him as he entered, 
 Jim prepared very leisurely to ascend the stair- 
 case — very leisurely, poor boy, for he was hungry
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 193 
 
 and weary both, and there was nothing in the 
 tale which he had to tell, or in the home to which 
 he was coming, to give lightness to his footsteps, 
 or the energy of gladness to exhausted nature. 
 So up the dark stairs he slowly went, the dark 
 and creaking stairs, teeming with every nauseous 
 odour that dirt and poverty and disease — the 
 crowding of many living creatures into close 
 and unventilated chambers — the steam of coarse 
 food and garbage unremoved — of tobacco smoke 
 and gin combined, could inflict upon the senses. 
 All these things, however., had long since 
 become as a second nature to him, and regard- 
 less of the noxious atmosphere, he went on, 
 looking, indeed, wistfully towards one or two 
 half opened doors, from whence light and sounds 
 of revelry were proceeding, but still passing 
 steadily by them and beyond them, until he had 
 gained the last and highest of the many landing 
 places which that old house could boast of. 
 There again he paused, either to recover breath, 
 or which was yet more likely, (judging from the 
 disturbed and uncertain expression of his face,) 
 from a lurking unwillingness to enter. Some 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 one appeared to be awake within, for a ray of 
 light came streaming beneath the doorway, and 
 there was an occasional click, click besides, as of 
 a woman using scissors, but other sound of life 
 there was not, and save for that little candle's 
 gleam outside, and that occasional tap within, all 
 was so silent and so still, you might have deemed 
 the room had either no inhabitants at all, or was 
 only inhabited by the dead. Jim, however, knew 
 as well as though the door were open, all that was 
 going on in that silent chamber, and the exact way 
 in which every member of his family, whether 
 absent or present, was occupied at that moment. 
 He knew that his brothers and sisters were all 
 asleep, if hunger had not kept them waking; 
 that his father was at the ale house; and his 
 patient, half starved mother bending over the 
 work that was to buy food for her children on 
 the morrow, with none to witness the enduring 
 toil to which her mother's love had urged her, 
 save He who has placed that mother's love, ever 
 in the self-sacrificing heart of woman. 
 
 Softly at last he unclosed the door, to see, as 
 he had expected, in one corner a group of
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 195 
 
 children, coiled for the sake of warmth one upon 
 another like a cluster of serpents, beneath the 
 tattered coverlet of the onlv bedstead that the 
 room could boast of; and in the other, with the 
 dim light of the farthing dip, by which she was 
 straining her eyes to work, full upon her person, 
 the poor pale mother of the sleepers, bending 
 wearily over the boot she was endeavouring 
 to finish for the morning's market. Her back 
 was towards the door, so she was not aware of 
 his having entered, until he had reached the 
 settle and rested his head upon the table in an 
 attitude of despondency not to be mistaken. 
 
 " Ah, Jim, darlint, and is it you?" she cried, 
 more joyfully than the circumstances at first 
 sight might have seemed to warrant. " It's my- 
 self has been wae about you this night ma bouch 
 al, for I was afeard the ould fit was on you, and 
 that you war off agin." 
 
 " No, mother, I'll niver lave you agin, plaize 
 God, barring only — " 
 
 "Barring what, acushla?" the mother anxiously 
 demanded, seeing that he paused. 
 
 M Barring the fit do be on me suddint like, 
 K 2
 
 196 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 and then, to spake God's truth, I can't well help 
 myself from going, mother," the boy replied, with 
 something of the sad, wavering look which had 
 greeted Esther on the hill. 
 
 *' Plaize God it won't though," the woman 
 answered hastily as she caught the uncertain 
 glance, u He'll lave you to be the joy and comfort 
 . of your poor mother, as you ever war, before that 
 weary faver tuck you, and as you'll be agin, 
 glory be to God, I doubt not, when your spirits 
 do get stronger ! And where war you to-night, 
 my son, that you didn't come home till now?" 
 
 " On the hill side, mother, a gathering chick- 
 weed to help out little Lizzy wid her marketing 
 to-morrow, and I've brought you a posy too; see 
 here, mother, daisies and bootercups the first of 
 the sayson," and as he spoke Jim placed the little 
 bouquet of early flowers which he had gathered 
 in his rambles, upon his mother's lap. 
 
 " God help you, child," said the poor woman 
 smiling, " but it's mad entirely afther the posies 
 that you are. Shure it's a gardener you should 
 have been, my boy, and living in the fresh, 
 sweet counthry air that you love so well, far away
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 197 
 
 from the dust and smoke of this weary city. 
 But Jim dear," she added in a voice tremulous 
 with anxiety. " You went to Mr. Hardman as I 
 towld you, and what answer did he give you, 
 mavourneen?" 
 
 " Yerra ! but I'd almost forgotten," cried 
 Jim, " but I mind now, mother," he continued, 
 seeing her look of irrepressible anxiety, " I seen 
 Mister Hardman his own self, and he gave me 
 just this for you, for the two pairs we done yes- 
 terday." 
 
 " One, two, tree," the mother nervously 
 counted the little heap of copper which he had 
 poured into her lap; " ah, then sure it's joking 
 you are, Jim, why I never tuck less before nor 
 two pence the pair, since I worked for the trade, 
 and he can't have cut off the odd ha'pence, come 
 give it to me, avourneen, and say you war only 
 joking." 
 
 " 1 warn't a joking, mother," Jim desperately 
 responded; " he has cut off the odd ha'pence, and 
 he says if so be as you don't like to work on his 
 terrems, he knows plenty of others that will, and 
 say thank ye kindly for the job likewise."
 
 198 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " God help us then/' replied the poor woman, 
 disconsolately, " for work as hard as I will, and 
 if I worked my fingers to the bone, moreover, I 
 couldn't betune light and dark do more nor 
 three pairs in the twinty-four hours of the night 
 and day ; and how I'm to buy needles and thread 
 out of such airnings as those, and light to work 
 by, and bread to feed you wid, it is far bey ant 
 my poor wits or invintion to disarn." 
 
 Poor Mrs. Darville! this hurried enumera- 
 tion of all her difficulties, brought them so vividly 
 before her mind's eye, that unable to bear up 
 against the prospect she burst into a fit of tears, 
 the first she had indulged in during many a 
 weary day and night of anxious thoughts and 
 failing hopes, and ever recurring, and ill requited 
 labour. The boy's arms were round his mother's 
 neck in an instant. 
 
 " Whist, whist, mother, will you whist now," 
 he whispered, for mindful of the sleeping children 
 the whole of this conversation had been carried 
 on in an undertone. u Yerra, it's ashamed of 
 you I am, to be breaking your heart that way, 
 and me to the fore to help you, ready and willing,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 199 
 
 God knows, in spite of the faver, to work harder 
 nor ever a poor boy worked before, sooner 
 nor you and the rest on 'em should come to 
 starving, — an' see, too, here's a penny, I 
 forgot, a penny that was give to me by a poor 
 girleen on the hill, and I not askin' nor thiknin' 
 of askin' her at all at all, but just for luck like, 
 and to show us G-od will niver desart us, if we 
 don't give Him good rayson for it ; an' afther all, 
 why would He, mother? shure He niver done it 
 yet, and it 'ud be a quare thing wouldn't it, if He 
 war to do it now, whin we are less able nor ever 
 to get on widout Him." 
 
 " Thrue for you, honey, and troth it's the 
 good boy you are to be mindin' me of it now,' 
 replied his mother drying her eyes, and feeling 
 infinite relief from this short outburst of her 
 hidden sorrow. " So now we'll just make up 
 our minds to take things as they come, and trust 
 to God and his goodness for not lavin' the 
 child hre to starve entirely." 
 
 "You've just hot it now, mother," Jim cheer- 
 fully responded, " so go and lie down a bit, will 
 you, for it's reglarly done up wid work and
 
 200 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 worry you are, and I'll stitch on at the bootie 
 till the candle has burnt a bit lower in the 
 socket." 
 
 Mrs. Darville's objections to this plan, on the 
 ground that Jim must be even more worn out 
 and weary than herself, were interrupted by a 
 roar from her youngest born, who, waking sud- 
 denly from a hunger troubled sleep, and seeing 
 his brother sitting there without the food which 
 it was usually his task to bring, burst into a 
 terrific crv for bread, and obstinately refused the 
 less substantial comfort which his unhappy 
 mother proffered in the shape of kisses and 
 caresses. Two or three other voices soon chimed 
 in to swell the chorus, while the elder children 
 sat up in bed and glared upon him with a look of 
 eagerness on their sharpened features, that could 
 admit but of one interpretation only — it was 
 the eagerness, the animal eagerness, of hunger. 
 
 u They're starvin', they are; that's the raal 
 fact of the matther, poor darlints," said the 
 unhappy w r oman, as she walked her refractory 
 babe up and down the dim lighted garret, in a 
 vain attempt to soothe him. 4< You warn't agone,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 201 
 
 not tin minutes, acushla, when fader came in 
 mad for the dhrink, and tuck off every farden I 
 had to the ale house. It warn't over much, to 
 be sure, but still it would have filled the eray- 
 thur's bellies for them, and left us at pace this 
 wanst, instead of the roaring and crying that's 
 been in my hearing all day." 
 
 " He did, did he?" Jim asked, his blue, wan- 
 dering eyes fairly flashing unaccustomed tire; 
 u the dhrunken ould sot!" 
 
 M Whisht, Jim, whisht!" cried his mother, 
 u don't be calling him bad names, acushla. 
 Shure isn't he the fader afther all?" 
 
 " Troth is he," the bov answered in the bit- 
 terness of his soul. ki and a quare sort of fader 
 too. to lave wife and children and all a starvin', 
 while he's purshuin' his drunkin divarsions in 
 the pot house — " 
 
 He would have said yet more, in spite of his 
 mother's imploring looks, for his blood was fairly 
 up, but just as he reached the ill-omened word 
 last recorded on our pages, the door of the 
 garret was pushed hesitatingly open, and the 
 subject of his indignation entered. Harry Dar- 
 K 5
 
 202 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 ville had once boasted a tall and stately person, 
 but gin had done for him what gin will do for 
 all that tempt its fatal waters, and now his fea- 
 tures were bloated and drink sodden, his eyes 
 blood shot and wild; his clothes (he had pawned 
 all the decent apparel that he or any of his 
 family had been possessed of) his clothes hung in 
 miserable rags, loose and disconsolate, from his 
 shrunken limbs, and his whole frame shook so 
 violently in the nervous tremour produced by 
 the absence of his accustomed amount of stimu- 
 lants, that he had to lean for a moment against 
 the door post before he could steady himself suf- 
 ficiently to advance into the room. A drunkard 
 he stood confessed, and as he rolled his eyes with 
 their half maniac, half idiot, but wholly animal 
 expression from the floor to the ceiling, and from 
 the ceiling back again to the floor, it was but 
 too evident that he was searching every corner 
 of the miserable, dismantled garret for some for- 
 gotten piece of furniture which could be con- 
 verted into drink. His wife had instinctively 
 pocketed her work the instant she heard his foot 
 upon the staircase, and Jim had shoved the table
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 203 
 
 on one side, so that nothing at first met his eyes 
 save the curly heads of his frightened children, 
 and the miserable shrinking form of their un- 
 happy mother. Neither the one nor the other, 
 however, were safe from his unholy speculations, 
 and he was glaring from the patched quilt which 
 barely covered the children to the tattered gown 
 which formed the only attire of the mother, as 
 if hesitating which to choose for the gratification 
 of his drunken purpose, when Mrs. Darville, 
 anxious to ward off the impending evil, timidly 
 approached and besought him to lay down. 
 
 She was answered as might have been ex- 
 pected by a torrent of imprecations and re- 
 proaches, mingled with frenzied demands for 
 money. In vain the wretched woman sought to 
 quiet him. 
 
 " Money, money !" still he cried ; " something 
 to dhrive the divil out of me — something to pre- 
 vent me going mad altogether ! Nelly ! Nelly ! 
 sorra sup I've had to-day, barrin' the two 
 pen'orth I tuck from you this mornin, and it's 
 going mad for the want of it I am. Curse you, 
 woman ! give it to me at wanst, if you wouldn't
 
 204 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 have me suck the life blood out of one of them 
 child lire before your face for the drouth that is 
 killin' me entirely." 
 
 And so he went on roaring, raving, and blas- 
 pheming, his wife all the while entreating him 
 to be quiet, and his children creeping closer and 
 closer to each other in momentary expectation 
 of the scuffle which was sure to terminate the 
 scene, when catching a glimpse of the money as 
 it still lay upon the table, with the spring of 
 a wild beast he pounced upon it. 
 
 " One ! two ! tree ! " he muttered, counting 
 it greedily over with his eager, palsied fingers. 
 " That '11 do, that '11 do, that '11 drive away the 
 divil that's roaring widin me. Oh ! woman ! 
 woman !" he cried, holding up his clenched hand 
 and shaking it in triumph at his wretched wife, 
 "how dur you say you had no more money this 
 mornin? See if I don't serve you out some 
 day for the thricks and malice that keep them 
 black divils in me, by denying me of my lawful 
 money." 
 
 A drunken laugh followed this speech, and 
 the children knew that their chance of supper
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 205 
 
 was over for the night. They were in too great 
 awe, however, of their father to complain, and 
 he would have pocketed the money without 
 opposition, if the mother, all unused as she was 
 to dispute his wishes, had not grown suddenly 
 bold in the wants of her little ones, and sprang 
 between him and the door, exclaiming : 
 
 " Harry! Harry! I declare before my God 
 they haven't had bit or sup this blessed day. 
 Oh ! lave it to thim, acushla, for the sake of the 
 great God in Heaven and His Holy Mother, lave 
 it to thim. On my knees I ask it. Shure arn't 
 they yer own flesh and blood, and amn't I yer 
 lawful wife? and ye wouldn't starve us intirely 
 would ye? Wirra! wirra! that I should live 
 to see the day ; Harry, Harry, the curse of the 
 wife and childhre too will one day light upon 
 yer head if you pershist in yer evil coorses !" 
 
 Even as she was speaking Mrs. Darville flung 
 herself upon her knees before him, and seizing 
 the hand that held the money, endeavoured to 
 wrench it from his grasp. But the eye of the 
 drunkard was now glittering like that of a 
 maniac, and dealing with the hand that yet re-
 
 206 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 mained disengaged, a blow on his wife's temples 
 that laid her prostrate, he shook off Jim, who 
 had flown to his mother's rescue, as if he had 
 been an infant, and waving the money with a 
 drunken shout of triumph above his head, made 
 his escape to the public house where the greater 
 part of his life was wasted. 
 
 Then it was that relieved from the terror of 
 his immediate presence, the starving children he 
 had left behind burst into a dismal chorus of 
 howling and lamenting, in the midst of which 
 Jim thought he could discern the low heart- 
 broken wailing of his mother. The room was 
 in pitchy darkness, for both table and candle had 
 been knocked down in the struggle, but from the 
 distant corner to which his father's hand had 
 flung him, Jim tried to quiet the screaming 
 children. 
 
 "Whist! whist!" he cried, " will ye whist 
 now ye unfortinate little craytures. Don't you 
 see that mother's down, and I can't find her 
 for yer screechin'. Hould your tongues now, 
 will you, until I can get at her." 
 
 This appeal was not made in vain, and guided
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS, 207 
 
 by her sobs, which seemed to come from a great 
 distance, they were so stifled and suppressed, 
 Jim at last succeeded in groping his way to 
 Mrs. Darville, as she half-lay, half-sat on the 
 floor, just where she had been felled by her 
 brutal husband, and putting his arms affec- 
 tionately round her neck, the boy sat down beside 
 her. It was more than her full heart could bear, 
 and she sobbed so convulsively, tho' still in 
 silence, that Jim at last got frightened. 
 
 "Is it hurt you are, mother dear?" he 
 anxiously enquired. u Och ! spake to me will 
 you, and don't be mournin' that sorrowful way. 
 Is it yer head he's hot, or what is it? Won't 
 you tell your own bouchaleen, that would give 
 his life's blood for you, he would, and be glad of 
 the chance moreover." 
 
 " Yes, Jim, shure enough he's hot me sore," 
 sobbed the poor woman laying her swelled brow 
 upon the shoulder of her faithful boy. "But och, 
 darlint, it isn't that, it isn't that, it's the heart 
 that's bruck entirely widin me. For years and 
 years, Jim, ever since you war borne, avourneen, 
 to be a help and comfort to yer unhappy mother,
 
 208 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 I've sthruggled an' sthruggled, God is my 
 witness if I haven't worked my fingers to the 
 bone, both night and day, for to bring you up 
 honest, and keep you dacent, but ever and 
 always he's been the hindrance and the blight on 
 all I done for yez. The hindrance and the 
 blight, the curse and the destroyer of his own 
 flesh and blood he has been, and wirra wirra to 
 the day that any of yez war born if ever you 
 tread in the steps of your poor sinful fader." 
 
 " But shure we won't mother, dear, and so 
 where's the use of fret tin' before hand," Jim 
 was just beginning when he was interrupted by 
 a loud knocking at the door, and a stentorian 
 voice exclaiming : 
 
 "Why, missus, missus, wot's the row I 
 wonder. You be'ant having a game at nothing 
 at all in the dark be you now, for I'm blessed if 
 there wasn't noise enough for twenty, five minutes 
 agone as I was coming up your d — ill-conwenient 
 stair-case, where there's not light enough to per- 
 went a feller a breaking his nose on the brightest 
 day that ever lit up St. Paul's." 
 
 It was the voice of Dick Daredevil, and Jim
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 209 
 
 knew it well ; but before he had time to reply, the 
 other had very unceremoniously pushed open the 
 door, and introduced himself and his companion 
 into the apartment. The latter, neither Jim nor 
 his mother had ever beheld before, but he seemed 
 a dark looking, ill-favored individual, even in the 
 imperfect glance they caught by the dim moon- 
 light that was streaming already through the 
 shutterless window. 
 
 " It's the table was upset, and the candle it 
 went along wid it," Jim explained in rather a 
 sulky manner, for he was not only vexed at 
 the intrusion, but pre-occupied in searching for 
 the candle, which had, as well as the table, 
 been hurled into some unknown corner of the 
 room. 
 
 " So I should say, hindeed," the other responded 
 coolly. "Well, fetch up the glim my man, and 
 I'll set it alight with the end of my cigar, which 
 you must know, I only indulges in because to- 
 backer is rekisite to my constitootion. There 
 now," he continued as the operation of finding 
 and lighting the candle was fairly concluded, 
 " It's all right now, my tulip, so hold high for a
 
 210 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 moment, will you, and. let us have a squint at 
 the pre-mises." 
 
 Jim, however, showing no great willingness 
 thus to pander to his curiosity, the other 
 snatched the candle from him, and commenced 
 flaring it backwards and forwards in such a way 
 that every portion of the garret was soon laid 
 bare to his inspection. Very wretched it must 
 have looked at any time, and with any amount 
 of the broadest daylight to make it brighter; 
 but doubly desolate it now appeared beneath the 
 thick flames of that swealing candle, dimly re- 
 vealing the upset table and broken chair — the 
 children crouching beneath their tattered cover- 
 let, and Mrs. Darville herself with her tear- 
 stained swollen visage, feebly drawing her rags 
 around her, and trying to look as if nothing 
 beyond an ordinary accident (such as might have 
 occurred in any household) had caused its 
 present appearance of discomfort in her abode — 
 a very futile attempt indeed where such prac- 
 tised eyes as Dick's and his companion's were 
 brought to bear up on the subject. 
 
 " Well now," Dick went on as soon as he had
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 211 
 
 concluded his survey by flashing the light so close 
 to Mrs. Darville's forehead, bleeding and dis- 
 colored as it was from her^husband's blow, that 
 she drew back in involuntary trepidation, ''I 
 shouldn't at all wonder if you'd been having a 
 row with the old'un. You've been a nagging of 
 him, havn't you tho'? and he's taken out the 
 worth of your breath in beating?" 
 
 " Troth, then, Mister Dick," she retorted 
 bitterly, " I do wonder I do, at your havin' the 
 face to ask the question. Sure whatever Harry 
 does be doin' for good or bad, it must be a stale 
 story to you by this time ; and if he has robbed 
 me of the last farden I had in the place, to dhrink 
 it at the public, it's not to the papers you need 
 go for to larn all about it." 
 
 " I'm blessed, however, if I ever heard a 
 whisper about it before this werry minute," 
 replied Dick. " Dear, dear, to think of that now, 
 and that I should have been so fortinate as to 
 step in just as these 'ere precious little innocents 
 were a crying for their vittles. Come dry your 
 eyes, my babe in the wood," he added, turning to 
 Jim, " what's done is done, and carn't be helped,
 
 212 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 so it ain't no manner of use to snivel no more 
 about it." 
 
 "• I warn't a crying, and you know very well 
 that I warn't, Mister Dick," Jim angrily re- 
 sponded ; but, notwithstanding this denial, Dick's 
 comrade, who had hitherto kept a profound 
 silence, chose to adopt the same idea, and to 
 continue the unwelcome theme in a tone of 
 mockery, which, without the seasoning of the 
 other's good natured looking face to soften its 
 effects, proved yet more irritating to its object. 
 
 " No, was he tho'— crying for his vittles, was 
 he? Poor little gentleman, he must have been 
 sore hungered I should say, judging from his 
 looks before he would have demeaned himself by 
 such an unmanly proceeding as that now." 
 
 u I warn't a crying," Jim doggedly replied. 
 " And il I had been crying (which I warn't) but 
 if I had been crying it wouldn't have been for 
 supper, it would have been," he continued, 
 warming into indignation as he proceeded " be- 
 case it's all along of yer, and such as yer, that 
 fader is for ever at the public — and mother a 
 baten, heart-bruck woman — and the childhre so
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 213 
 
 entirely widout food, or clothes, or fire that little 
 choice is left us now (God help us) between the 
 work-bouse and the grave." 
 
 " Why don't you try the theayter, my man? " 
 said Dick, eyeing him with just that sort of mock- 
 admiration which it is so difficult to endure 
 when one is thoroughly in earnest. " You'd make 
 a first-rate stager you would. But arter all 
 now," he continued, changing his tone into one 
 of solemn reproach, " ain't you a werry un- 
 grateful young dog — a werry ungrateful young 
 dog indeed, to meet me and my chum in this game 
 cock fashion, when we stept in for no other pur- 
 pose in life then to offer you a genteel situation 
 at three bob the week." 
 
 Jim's eyes sparkled brightly for a moment, 
 but as they met his mother's, the doubt and dis- 
 trust which he saw there expressed became in- 
 stantly reflected in his own. 
 
 u Premium ain't over high, to be sure," Dick 
 went on, seeing their hesitation, though totally 
 mistaking its cause. " But the situation is de- 
 cidedly first rate genteel and easy, needing 
 nothing more nor good lungs and a strong voice
 
 214 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 to make it answer to perfection. And let me 
 tell you it's not every day in the week you'll get 
 such a offer, or find a party like me and my 
 chum here to change your notes into gold, since, 
 however sweet they may be, they ain't of the 
 sort usually sent into the market for to be coined 
 into jingo." 
 
 " And sure that's nothin' but God's blessed 
 truth, if it war the divil himself that said it," 
 observed Jim, looking wistfully at his mother. 
 
 " True for you," she timidly, yet steadily re- 
 plied. u Mister Dick, I'm sure there's no need 
 to tell you, at this time of day, that Jim is a 
 hard working, slaving gorsoon for his years as 
 you'd find in London, and that there's nothing 
 in the way of work he wouldn't be ready and 
 willing to put his hand to, so be only that it was 
 likewise honest." 
 
 u Honest!" laughed Dick, repeating her words 
 with many pantomimic gestures, expressive at 
 once of astonishment and amusement. " Honest! 
 well I never ! As if anything as John Night- 
 shade had in hand could be dishonest. If it had 
 been only I now, I wouldn't have been so much
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 215 
 
 surprised, for I do own to not being always so 
 partic'lar as may be I'd ought to. But John, 
 honest John, as they calls him in the city, why 
 Lor* blessee, marm, your lad's as safe with he as 
 with the Lord Mayor hisself, a office as John 
 will some day be called to accommodate, if ever 
 honest folks gets their own, a thing as doesn't 
 too often happen, I'm afeard, in this low minded, 
 unconscientious world we lives in." 
 
 Dick concluded this oration by pushing the 
 individual, on whose moralities he was so vehe- 
 mently insisting, into the middle of the room, 
 and as the latter was brought by this movement 
 more immediately into the light of the candle, 
 Mrs. Darville could not help thinking, notwith- 
 standing all assurances to the contrary, that a 
 more thoroughly hang-dog, ill-looking animal 
 she had never before set eyes on. Even his 
 voice to her prejudiced ear had a twang of sup- 
 pressed villany about it, as he endeavoured to 
 strengthen the effect of Dick's eloquence, by ex- 
 claiming in as thorough a tone of injured inno- 
 cence as he could conveniently accomplish on the 
 instant,
 
 216 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " Honest, indeed ! Heaven grant you pardon, 
 marm, for only venturing to insinuate that John 
 Nightshade could either say or do anything dis- 
 honest or unginteel." 
 
 " Adding to which," continued Dick, u though 
 the lad will have certainly a woice in the busi- 
 ness, (a thing as considering the cause why we 
 hires him couldn't be altogether perwented,) still 
 he'll have nothing to say to the chaffing of cus- 
 tomers, where the cheating (if cheating there is, 
 which I flatly denies) where the cheating, if any, 
 would lay." 
 
 " The case is just this," said John, shortly and 
 gruffly ; " Dick and me have entered into the 
 root selling line, and we are looking out for a 
 boy to cry 'em. We can't do it ourselves, be- 
 cause Dick never will be without that cursed 
 cigar in his mouth, and I am troubled with a 
 hoarseness, and rayther short winded besides." 
 
 The latter part of this statement was fully 
 borne out by the canting, croaking voice in 
 which it was delivered, but still the poor woman 
 hesitated. Hesitated, no wonder! to throw her 
 good and honest boy for any purpose, however
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 217 
 
 honest, into the hands of such men as these. 
 Dick she long had known as one of her hus- 
 band's boon companions, not so much a sot, but 
 a greater villain far, and a jolly-meed, good-na- 
 tured villain too, which made his companionship 
 all the more to be dreaded for a boy. Dick 
 being what he was, it followed almost as a matter 
 of course that John, however strongly he might 
 insist upon his own virtue, could hardly deserve to 
 be classed among the more respectable portion of 
 the costermongering community, to which both 
 he and Dick Daredevil belonged. Nevertheless, 
 there was nothing really suspicious in their pre- 
 sent occupation, and to cap this argument by 
 another, she and her children were starving and 
 there was half-a-crown to be gained by the en- 
 gagement. 
 
 Alas! how hard are the trials of the poor, 
 and how different should be the measure with 
 which we judge their temptations and our own ; 
 theirs so often the consequence of dire necessity, 
 ours almost as often the offsets of mere idleness 
 and ease. Had the present question been one 
 really of right and wrong, Mrs. Darville would 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 have had no difficulty in deciding, but it seemed 
 in fact to be rather a case of prudence than of 
 virtue ; a doubt as to the propriety of mating 
 the boy with such ominous companions at all, than 
 as to the actual honesty of the calling to which 
 they had invited him. 
 
 Dick saw her hesitation, and guessing its 
 cause, threw a shilling on the table to hasten the 
 decision. 
 
 " There, old mother," he exclaimed in his 
 most conciliatory manner, for he really was 
 anxious to do what he thought a good turn by 
 the starving family; "what are you afeard on? 
 See, there's the 'listing money, and so let it be a 
 bargain." 
 
 u A bargain, a bargain !" cried Jim eagerly. 
 " Oh, mother, won't you let it be a bargain ? 
 Shure it isn't in me to be dishonest, but if it 
 war, wouldn't it be less a timptation to be cry- 
 ing roots in the sthreets than to be lookin' in at 
 them aiting house windows full of vittles, and 
 never a penny, nor the ghost of a penny, in a 
 boy's pocket to buy 'em." 
 
 Mrs. Darville glanced fearfully at her son.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 219 
 
 For the first time in her life the idea struck her 
 that he might be some day tempted in his des- 
 peration to do a dishonest deed; the bare sugges- 
 tion of such a possibility went through her like 
 a knife ; and catching the boy by both his hands 
 she exclaimed : 
 
 " Jim, dear, sure you wouldn't. Tell me, 
 darlint, that you wouldn't, just to make me aisy 
 in my mind about you; tell yer poor old mammy 
 that neither cowld nor starvation will ever tempt 
 you to steal." 
 
 " Troth, mother, I do hope, with the help of 
 God, they won't, but still I can't take upon me 
 to say I never should be timpted. Any ways, 
 this here job is honest, and we are starvin', every 
 mother's son of us, and I couldn't answer for 
 myself, I couldn't, mother," the boy added, after 
 struggling with something that seemed to choke 
 him, " if you hinder me from such a chance as 
 this is." 
 
 Poor mother ! what could she say or do against 
 such an argument as this? The eager, wolf- 
 like glance of Lizzy, too, as she sat up in her 
 wretched bed, and glared upon the shilling which 
 l 2
 
 220 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 was still laying on the table just where Dick had 
 thrown it, caught her eye at the same moment, 
 and bursting into tears she answered sadly : 
 
 " Well, acushla, sure it must be as you wish ; 
 may the Lord forgive me for that same word if 
 it's putting your precious sowl into jeopardy it is. 
 God He knows that if it warn't for them poor 
 childhre yonder, I'd as lief, and liefer starve out- 
 right myself, nor see you consortin' at all wid 
 the fader's friends. " 
 
 " There, now, keep a civil tongue in your 
 head, carn't you, old lady," interrupted Dick, 
 whose quick eye had detected a gathering storm 
 on his companion's brow. " Don't you know 
 as the devil is never so black as he's painted, 
 and so you'll be saying next week, when this'ere 
 cove comes back to you with a pocket full of 
 tin, and a heart as lamb-like as if he'd never 
 been out of green fields and clover, and that 'ere 
 innocent sort of thing all the days of his mortial 
 existence. Here, my cherry blossom/' he added, 
 taking the shilling and chucking it over to Jim, 
 "cut off at once and buy grub for the young 
 'uns, and to-morrow by day -light we'll expect
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 221 
 
 you at the old shop, which I think you knows 
 already, by reason of having come there so often 
 to look up the old 'un. Make my complerments 
 to him when he comes in (that is to say if he's 
 in a condition to walue the blessing), and in the 
 meantime, ladies and gemmen, I've the honor to 
 bid you a werry good evening." 
 
 He bowed himself out of the room with mock 
 politeness as he finished speaking, and hustling 
 John before him to prevent him breaking out 
 into some savage observation, the two were in 
 another moment out of sight and hearing at the 
 foot of the staircase.
 
 222 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX, 
 
 Early as it was when Jim proceeded to his new 
 occupation on the following morning, he found 
 his employers already waiting for him at the 
 corner of the street, where they were supposed 
 to reside. The hand-barrow with which they 
 were to proceed through the city was already 
 well stocked with flowers, arranged with consider- 
 able attention as to color and effect, primroses 
 and violets being grouped with hyacinths and 
 yellow crocuses, snowdrops set side by side with 
 clusters of hepaticas, sky-blue, single and double 
 crimson ; and these, again, so cunningly relieved 
 by a back ground of wall-flowers and dark ivy,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 223 
 
 that it was no great wonder, if Jim, passion- 
 ately fond as he was of gardening, should have 
 stood for a moment in stupid admiration, forget- 
 ful of all else besides, and only conscious that he 
 had never known flowers to show so brilliantly 
 before. A sharp rap over the knuckles, admin- 
 istered by John Nightshade, soon roused him 
 from his reverie, and after Dick had given him a 
 lesson as to the services expected of him, they 
 proceeded down the street, John pushing the 
 barrow before him, and the other two shouting 
 at the top of their lungs, " all a growing, all a 
 blowing; whose for flowers this fine spring- 
 morning — violets and primrose, snowdrop and 
 crocus — all a growing, all a blowing — whose for 
 flowers this fine spring morning?" 
 
 u Bio wed if I can sing any longer on that 
 note," cried Dick, suddenly stopping at the end 
 of a street after he bad proceeded in this fashion 
 for about a quarter-of-an-hour. "I say, Johnny, 
 my voice is regularly done up for the day, so 
 you'd best go on without me, and if your way 
 should chance to lie thro' Manchester-square, 
 don't you go calling on the old lady that lives at
 
 224 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 No. 19, (right-hand side of the corner) for I'm 
 werry much afeard if you do, you won't get such 
 a reception as a man of your merit has a right 
 for to look for." 
 
 " Why not," John gruffly answered. " "What's 
 got the old fool that she should set up her back 
 at me that way I wonder? " 
 
 " As far as I understand the matter," replied 
 Dick, touching his own forehead significantly to 
 give due effect to his words, "she carn't be 
 altogether too right in the upper story, for she 
 fancies, old stoopid, she actually fancies, my 
 Johnny, as her flunky informed me, that you 
 poisoned them tulips you sold her last week." 
 
 " The d— old idiot," said Nightshade, sul- 
 lenly. u Don't I wish I had the whopping of 
 her! I'd soon teach her, and mighty quick too, 
 to hold her d — prating tongue, and not to spoil 
 an honest man's trade by blowing that way on 
 his precious reputation." 
 
 " All right, and got the receipt," cried Dick, 
 who evidently took a malicious pleasure in the 
 annoyance exhibited by his companion, u so' 
 bye! bye! Johnny. Jimmy, lily of the walley,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 225 
 
 tune up. Bles't if you don't sing like a nightin- 
 gale already, needing no instruction wotever to 
 be a most invallyable acquisishion to gemmen of 
 our perfesshion." 
 
 The jolly costermonger waited no reply, but 
 turning into a narrow street was out of sight in 
 a moment, while John putting his hand once 
 more to the barrow, wheeled moodily on. 
 
 During the rest of the day they continued to 
 traffic, with about the average amount of success 
 which attends a costerinonger's sale of flowers in 
 London. Here and there they were stopped by a 
 foot passenger, an old dame perhaps on her way to 
 market, or a young girl going to school, and 
 anxious for the possession of a pot of violets or 
 snowdrops, to be afterwards carried away beneath 
 her shawl; or else they were hailed from the 
 window of some tradesman's house, and a parlour 
 maid stept forth to bargain for a small lot of 
 flowers to be grouped together on a flower stand. 
 
 Jim rather enjoyed the kind of trafficing that 
 
 usually took place on these occasions, and seated 
 
 unnoticed on the shaft of the barrow was quite 
 
 willing to listen, if need were for hours, to the 
 
 l5
 
 226 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 rough jokes and compliments amid which it was 
 carried on. In this manner a week or two passed 
 happily on, and between the good effects of con- 
 stant work and better food, Jim appeared to his 
 delighted mother, to recover something of the 
 strength of mind and body which he had lost 
 some months before by fever. He had been 
 originally a boy of remarkably quick intellect, 
 and in all her troubles, and they were many and 
 grievous, arising from her husband's drunken 
 habits, Mrs. Darville had been accustomed to 
 look to Jim for comfort and support. Mind and 
 body had been in consequence overtaxed, and a 
 severe brain fever, from which he narrowly es- 
 caped with life, had left him subject to fits of 
 depression so deep and intense as almost to 
 amount to insanity. At such times he would sit 
 for days as one deprived of reason, without 
 opening his lips or attempting to assist his 
 mother at her trade, or else he would wander 
 into the country, from whence, after an absence 
 of many hours, he would return laden only with 
 grasses and wild flowers, but restored to his 
 ordinary state of mind.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 227 
 
 What Mrs. Darville suffered at first upon 
 these occasions probably no one but a mother 
 can understand, but fortunately she was a 
 woman of more than ordinary sense and shrewd- 
 ness for her class, and when she saw that 
 Jim's passionate love of flowers (for which he 
 had always been remarkable), could be made 
 conducive to his recovery, she ceased to make 
 any objection to his wanderings, and received him 
 on his return with so much affectionate indul- 
 gence that he was the first to blame himself for 
 his idleness, and to take upon himself, by way of 
 amends, a more than ordinary proportion of the 
 labours of the household. 
 
 Nothing, consequently, could have been de- 
 vised more satisfactory to his mother's feelings 
 or his own than his present employment. Under 
 its healing influence health and strength rapidly 
 returned, and his mind fixed continually on a 
 favorite pursuit, became strengthened to resist 
 the fits of despondency to which it had hitherto 
 been a passive victim. No wonder his poor, pale 
 moiher smiled, or that his employers professed 
 themselves well pleased with his exertions, for
 
 228 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 his natural quickness of intellect now stood him 
 in good stead, and in a marvellously short time 
 he became quite conversant not only with the 
 names of the various flowers of the season, but 
 with their relative value also, and the prices they 
 ought severally to command in the market. 
 Apart from the recollections of his home trials, 
 therefore, Jim was as happy as a boy could be. 
 John Nightshade indeed turned out on further 
 trial to be, as his very countenance prognosti- 
 cated of him, a morose and ill-tempered fellow, 
 but Dick, who occasionally took his turn 
 at the barrow, was a man of a very different 
 mould. 
 
 Naturally careless and light hearted, he cajoled 
 his customers out of their money, as much it 
 seemed in fun and frolic as in malice, and when 
 he had no one else to joke with, he would chat 
 good humouredly with Jim, treating him even 
 occasionally to a mug of hot coffee and a lump 
 of the black dough cake which usually accom- 
 panies that luxury, when sold out to customers 
 at street corners. Such unwonted kindness 
 had its full effect on the boy's heart. He
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. ' 229 
 
 became really attached to Dick, and anxious 
 both from feelings of gratitude and affection to 
 assist him in his business. Nor was he at all 
 unsuccessful in these efforts ; many a passenger 
 being won to the barrow by his eager looks, or 
 induced to purchase where he had only paused 
 to criticize or admire, by the boy's enthusiastic 
 admiration of his own merchandise; an admira- 
 tion too truly natural and impromptu not to be 
 above the suspicions even of a purchaser in the 
 London market. Dick soon perceived that he 
 had obtained in Jim far more than the mere 
 vocal qualities for which he had at first engaged 
 him, and he encouraged him to fresh exertions 
 in every way he could; now by approval both of 
 voice and eye, or at other times by the judicious 
 investment of a penny, in reward for some more 
 than usually successful transaction. 
 
 After this had occurred once or twice, Jim 
 naturally enough began to think himself a very 
 clever fellow, and visions would even sometimes 
 haunt him of the time when, by laying up a 
 little money, he might start a barrow on his own 
 account; or better still, by procuring a place at
 
 230 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 a market gardener's, cultivate his much loved 
 blossoms in their proper haunts. 
 
 Alas ! such a state of things as we have de- 
 scribed was far too pleasant to last long. 
 Rumours began to reach Mrs. Darville's ears as 
 to the mode of life of the " free foresters" with 
 whom her son had become associated, and once 
 his attention had been directed to the subject, 
 Jim himself -was forced, however unwillingly, to 
 suspect the honesty of his employers. His un- 
 settled state of mind being well known to them, 
 they were far less careful than they otherwise 
 would have been in concealing the nature of their 
 transactions from him, and he soon found by 
 their conversation that the route they were to 
 take each day was a matter of much graver con- 
 sideration than at first seemed needful, and that 
 however successful they might have been upon 
 any particular beat, a considerable period of time 
 was always suffered to elapse before it was again 
 attempted. Sometimes he even ventured to re- 
 monstrate with them upon this apparent inat- 
 tention to their own interests, reminding them 
 that the inhabitants of such and such a house
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 231 
 
 had requested him to call again, but he was 
 always answered either by a scowl from John, or 
 a comical face and a poke in the ribs from Dick, 
 which however unintelligible it proved in the 
 beginning, became at last from constant repeti- 
 tion indicative of evil even to his unsuspecting 
 mind. As time went on he discovered also 
 that his employers had a very bad memory for 
 former customers, either totally ignoring their 
 acquaintanceship when they met them, or cross- 
 ing the street in order more effectually to avoid 
 them. These occurrences, and a hundred others 
 of a similar nature, at last oppressed his mind 
 to such a degree that he resolved, cost what it 
 might, to find out for himself what was the real 
 character of the business which, as " free fores- 
 ters," his comrades carried on. With the cha- 
 racteristic secrecy of one of unsettled mind, he 
 said nothing to his mother either of his suspi- 
 cions or intentions ; but rising one day before the 
 sun, proceeded at once to the usual place of ren- 
 dezvous, in hopes of surprising the secret of his 
 companions by coming upon them at a moment 
 when they were unprepared for his presence.
 
 232 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 He did not intend, indeed, openly to beat up 
 their quarters, and there was both shrewdness 
 and courage in the course which, after some 
 anxious cogitation with himself, he resolved to 
 pursue. 
 
 In answer to every enquiry which he had 
 hitherto ventured to make on the subject, Dick 
 bad always assured him that they supplied them- 
 selves by contract with flowers from Covent 
 Garden, and in order to test tbe truth of this 
 bold assertion, he took up his station in the 
 shadow of an old archway, which was the only 
 mode of entrance to the lane where the foresters 
 lived. Nor had he long to wait, for in about ten 
 minutes after he had thus taken up his position, 
 Dick Daredevil made his appearance from the 
 opposite direction, and bending beneath some 
 formidable burthen which he carried on his 
 shoulders, slowly and wearily approached the 
 archway. 
 
 Well aware of the consequences to himself if his 
 eaves dropping were discovered, the boy shrank 
 closer and closer beneath the shadows of the wall, 
 hardly daring to breathe lest he should attract
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 233 
 
 the forester's attention; but Dick had followed 
 his calling too long with impunity to look out 
 very sharply for danger, and without pausing 
 for a single moment turned at once into the arch- 
 way, passing so close by Jim as he did so, that 
 he actually touched him with one end of the sack 
 he carried. It was a minute or more before Jim 
 had sufficiently shaken off the trepidation into 
 which this close encounter threw him, to follow 
 the other as he had originally intended; but as 
 Dick was compelled by the weight be carried to 
 walk at a slow pace, he managed to overtake 
 hiai just in time to see him enter his own home 
 and close the door behind him. Another moment 
 of suspense ensued, and then the lad ascertained 
 by the sound of his voice that his master had 
 ascended to the bed- room which looked over 
 the doorway, and which was usually occupied 
 by Nightshade. Jim began to breathe more 
 freely now, for being well acquainted with the 
 premises, he knew that if, as he suspected, the 
 men were engaged in conversation in that room, 
 there was nothing to prevent his slipping un- 
 perceived into the yard, where they had always
 
 234 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 latterly waited his coming. At the further end 
 of this yard was an old out-house, where prepared 
 earth, empty flower pots, and all the necessary 
 apparatus of their trade were usually stowed 
 away, and placing himself behind a pile of these, 
 in such a way that he could see and hear without 
 being seen, Jim prepared to await the issue of 
 the adventure. The sack, filled apparently 
 almost to bursting, which Dick had carried upon 
 his shoulders was lying near, but he had 
 scarcely a moment to speculate upon its probable 
 contents, ere the two men entered from the house, 
 and proceeded at once to unbutton the object of 
 his curiosity from top to bottom. 
 
 Then to the boy's infinite astonishment forth 
 came from its deep recesses a quantity of flowering 
 plants and shrubs of the most various descriptions, 
 as to use and value ; but all alike so crushed, and 
 tumbled, and earth soiled, apparently beyond 
 possibility of restoration that he could hardly 
 believe, what yet he most naturally suspected, 
 that these would prove the brilliant show of 
 flowers which, in an hour or two he would have 
 to cry through the city. His suspicions were
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 235 
 
 speedily justified by the proceedings of the 
 two men, who without any conversation, save 
 an observation from John as to his comrades 
 " having done a precious sight of business 
 that night," commenced at once to sort and 
 arrange the contents of the sack, first cleansing 
 every plant carefully in water, then cutting off, 
 here a bruised blossom, there a broken branch, 
 and finally setting them in pots, which, fortu- 
 nately for Jim's chances of remaining undis- 
 covered, were already filled with mould, and 
 placed for that purpose in the middle of the 
 yard One early rose-tree in particular seemed 
 to be the object of their anxious care. It had 
 been snapt nearly asunder just below that part 
 of the stem which should appear above ground, 
 and Dick proceeded to splice the broken parts 
 carefully together, saying as he did so, "P'raps 
 they'll join, and p'raps they won't; but wot then? 
 Early roses fetches a price this time of year, as 
 we carn't afford to lose a chance of — so ere goes 
 for to set it in a pot. It will hold good for the 
 day, I daresay, and to-morrow, as the phi — lo — • 
 so — phers say, must take care of itself. I say,
 
 236 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 John," he continued, bursting into a rogue's loud 
 laugh, " won't it be a jolly good sell if some old 
 leddy take a desp'rate fancy to this 'ere little 
 rose-tree, and forks out 'ansoine for it — only 
 you must dispose of it, my bird of paradise, as 
 soon as you can ; for, in course, it will begin to 
 wither in no time." 
 
 John only laughed, his surly, vindictive laugh, 
 which always sounded as if he had an old score to 
 pay off against the world, and rejoiced at any 
 cunning trick by which he could wipe off a por- 
 tion of the total; and then the two men pro- 
 ceeded without further parley to pour into each 
 pot a small quantity of some liquid, which Jim 
 instantly conjectured to possess the property of 
 stimulating the flowers into unnatural bloom, for 
 the sake of improving their value in the market. 
 
 He had lived too long among costermongers 
 (the class to which free foresters, as men in the 
 occupation of his present employers are called, 
 most usually belong,) not to have heard of such 
 tricks before, and he also knew that these un- 
 healthy stimulants were most destructive to the 
 real welfare of the plant, nature always reveng-
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 237 
 
 ing herself by the rapid fading away of leaf and 
 flower, while even the root itself was often de- 
 stroyed by the deleterious process to which it 
 had been subjected. 
 
 The proceedings of the foresters, hitherto so 
 wrapped in mystery, their cheap sale of expen- 
 sive plants, their careful arrangement of their 
 daily beats, and avoidance of quondam cus- 
 tomers, all in fact that had ever caused him a 
 moment's wonder or conjecture, was made evident 
 in a moment. Too evident, alas! for if the 
 flowers were really stolen first, and afterwards 
 doctored for the market, it was plain that his 
 service with such men must cease, and that he 
 must abandon an employment which made its 
 profits by a fraud. Gladly indeed would he 
 have departed on the instant, but he felt it 
 would have been quite as much as his life was 
 worth to have been found in his present position, 
 and as it was impossible for him to leave it 
 unnoticed, he was beginning to feel exceedingly 
 uncomfortable, when Dick unintentionally came 
 to his relief by saying, with outstretched arms 
 and a frightful amount of yawning :
 
 238 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 "Blowed if this 'ere owl's work ain't werry 
 fatiguing to a cove of my delicate constitootion. 
 I say, Jack, I'm off to roost, I am, and mind 
 you bring back an odd bob or two on that 'ere 
 precious little rose tree, and you can tell the 
 old leddy as buys it, with my best complements, 
 that I means to call on her to-morrow." 
 
 This latter piece of facetiousness was nearly 
 lost to the appreciation of his auditors, for he 
 had reached the door of his domicile ere it was 
 uttered, but hardly was Dick's foot upon the 
 threshold than crying out: 
 
 " Blast him, if he ain't a gone, and taken the 
 best pruning knife along with him," John darted 
 after him, and vanished also through the door 
 way. 
 
 The moment was propitious, and quick as 
 lightning Jim darted from his prison. He would 
 have left the yard altogether, but he feared he 
 might be seen and followed, so mentally resolv- 
 ing that this day's service should be his last, 
 he occupied himself in arranging the flowers on 
 their tray until John Nightshade re-appeared. 
 Possibly it was only his fears, but he thought
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 239 
 
 the man looked suspiciously upon him, though 
 nothing was said to justify the idea, and after a 
 gruff good morning on either side, for there was 
 no love lost between them, they proceeded to 
 their work in silence. With all his anxiety, 
 however, U disarm suspicion, Jim could not find 
 it in his conscience to put the broken rose tree 
 on the barrow, but the other soon perceived and 
 rectified this omission by placing it in a most 
 conspicuous position, and then they set forth 
 together, poor Jim feeling every time he shouted 
 forth " all a growing," as if he were uttering a 
 deliberate falsehood. He was, in fact, in such a 
 confusion of heart and brain that he could not 
 settle in his own mind as to whether it was his 
 duty to abscond on the instant, or whether it 
 were lawful to remain until evening had brought 
 his day's service to a close. The latter proceed- 
 ing his well founded fears of John's powers of re- 
 venge greatly inclined him to adopt, while on the 
 other hand it seemed to him as if his very presence 
 at the side of the forester made him a partner 
 in his fraudulent transactions. While thus va- 
 cillating between the promptings of remorse and
 
 240 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 fear, he followed his master from street to street, 
 and from square to square, with only one fixed 
 purpose in his mind, which was that sooner than 
 allow the broken rose tree to become an object 
 of purchase to any one, he would proclaim him 
 a thief upon the spot, whatever the consequences 
 might prove to himself. To do full justice to 
 the magnanimity of this resolution, it must be 
 remembered that Jim's mind had by no means 
 recovered the strength and clearness of percep- 
 tion of which it had been robbed by fever, and 
 therefore that he had formed to himself a very 
 exaggerated idea of the power of the foresters, 
 never even remembering that he had law and 
 justice clearly on his side, and that in unveiling 
 an imposition practised on the public, he might 
 reckon very positively on that public for support. 
 His only thought was of John Nightshade, the 
 weight of John Nightshade's hand, the scowl 
 of his eye, and more than all the rest, the mut- 
 tered curse, which he had learned to dread as an 
 omen of deeper vengeance in the future. Occu- 
 pied in such uncomfortable speculations as these, 
 it was of course with no very pleasant sensations
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 24 L 
 
 that he marked John's incessant endeavours to 
 puSf off tue rose tree, or the internal growl 
 that invariably rebuked his own timid efforts to 
 put forward some less exceptional object of mer- 
 chandise, in order to retard or prevent the dis- 
 posal of the other. He had tried this manoeuvre 
 quite often enough to arouse the forester's sus- 
 picions, when they were accosted by a lady in 
 deep mourning, who intimated by signs that she 
 wished to become the purchaser of the rose tree. 
 
 " A foreigner, by jingo !" cried John. "If 
 that ain't high luck now, I don't know what is. 
 I say, young man, stand back," he added, push- 
 ing Jim rudely on one side; " you've spoilt more 
 than one good bargain for me already, and you 
 shan't spoil another if I can help it; so stand 
 back, will you, or reckon upon as good a hiding 
 as ever you got in your life, if you dare to utter 
 a syllable for the next ten minutes." 
 
 This threat, enforced, as it was, by a scowl of 
 most determined malice, was sufficient for the 
 moment to impose silence upon Jim. 
 
 He slunk quietly behind the barrow, while the 
 other proceeded gravely to separate the rose tree 
 
 VOL I. M
 
 242 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 from the other plants, and holding up four lingers 
 of his hand as an intimation to his customer of 
 the number of shillings he expected her to pay, 
 she was actually taking them out of her purse, 
 when Jim, unable to bear the upbraiding of his 
 conscience a moment longer, sprang forward, tore 
 the rose tree from its flower pot before John had 
 the smallest idea of his intentions, and flourish- 
 ing the rootless stem before her eyes, exclaimed, 
 in total forgetfulness of her ignorance of Eng- 
 lish: 
 
 u Sure it's bruck clane down to the very stirn, 
 my lady. The ould rascal is chatin' you, he is. 
 Any of the other plants is bad enough, may be, 
 but the rose tree bates banagher for a decait 
 altogether." 
 
 Thus admonished, for if she could not under- 
 stand his words, the rootless rose tree formed a 
 very sufficient commentary upon them, the 
 lady drew back her hand, and the money she 
 had been about to drop into John's open palm 
 was again deposited in her purse. 
 
 The baffled rogue turned instantly upon Jim, 
 but the latter had caught the flash of his angry
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 243 
 
 eye, and not caring to come into closer contact 
 with him, was off like a shot. Happily for him 
 John was too much embarrassed by the charge of 
 his barrow to attempt a pursuit, and he succeeded 
 in reaching his mother's garret in safety. Once 
 there he flung himself into her arms, but between 
 fear and the confusion which any unusual event 
 always excited in his brain, it was some time 
 before she understood the true state of the case. 
 When at length she did so, she was divided 
 between pleasure at this new proof of the incor- 
 ruptible honesty of her boy, and anguish at his 
 consequent loss of an employment which with 
 her own scanty earnings formed the sole means 
 of subsistence her family were possessed of; not 
 for a moment, however, did she prove false to 
 her duty as a mother; she praised him for his 
 honest firmness, soothed him as well as she could 
 with the promise of better times, carefully 
 avoided, until his first agitation had passed away, 
 any allusion to the dire necessity that was again 
 staring them in the face, and meanwhile re- 
 peated over and over again the simple lesson 
 which she had taught him from his cradle, u that 
 M 2
 
 244 HOME AND THE HOMELF.SS. 
 
 God knew best, and it was sinful to murmur at 
 His holy will, but that sooner or later she was 
 certain He would prove to them that honesty 
 was the best policy after all." 
 
 Unfortunately her husband was little inclined 
 to adopt this view of the matter. He had 
 learned the history of the rose tree from the 
 revengeful lips of John himself, and furious at 
 being cut off from the chance of the odd pennies 
 which to quiet him Jim often made over to his 
 possession, he beat the poor boy that night till 
 he could stand over him no longer, and then 
 rifling his pockets of the last coppers they con- 
 tained, went straight off to the ale house with 
 them. 
 
 " Never mind, mother dear, never mind," said 
 Jim, gently touching his mother's shoulder after 
 a long pause, during which the poor woman had 
 sat motionless, her head wrapt in an old shawl, 
 mourning in the very bitterness of her mother's 
 heart over the sufferings of her boy. " Sure if 
 he bate me widin an inch of my life 1 wouldn't 
 care at all at all so long as he let you and the 
 childhre alone."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 245 
 
 " And don't I know that you wouldn't, acushla," 
 rejoined his mother, yielding to a long suppressed 
 fit of weeping. " But och, musha ! musha ! is it 
 any rayson becase you are good and thrue, as 
 you ever war, mavourneen, that I shouldn't be 
 heart sore to see you bate worse nor a dog, and 
 by the very fader, too, that ought to be as proud 
 as a pay cock of yer honesty, so he ought! Ah, 
 Harry Darville! Harry Darville!" she half- 
 muttered to herself, "it's little I thought when 
 you wheedled me into followin' you to this big 
 could hearted London, bad luck to it, that you'd 
 turn yer back on yer own flesh an' blood, and 
 spend all we've left in the ale-house." 
 
 " If he'd only left us them purthy little cop- 
 pers," said Jim in a half musing manner, " we'd 
 have had something anyways for to-morrow. 
 Howsomdever, it's no use fretting about it, so if 
 you'll go to bed, mother, I'll just set to and finish 
 the scrap of work that I see you've lift yander 
 beyant unfinished." 
 
 u Its only Lizzy's ould shoe I was thryin to 
 mind for her," the mother was beginning, when 
 Jim, who had risen to fetch it turned very pale,
 
 246 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 and uttering a low cry sank back on his seat 
 again. 
 
 "What is it, avourneen? what is it?" cried 
 the frightened mother, who had more than once 
 since his fever seen him suffer in this manner 
 from the violence of his father. " Sure it's rale 
 downright murder it is, for to bate a boy in that 
 fashion. What ails you, abouchal? won't you 
 tell your own mammy what ails you, darlint ?" 
 
 Thus adjured, Jim lifted up his heavy head 
 and let it rest upon his mother's shoulder. 
 u Sure it's nothing, jist nothing at all," he mur- 
 mured. u Only the quare feelin' that do come 
 over me at times, makin' me seem for all the 
 world as if my sinses war desartin me." 
 
 " God keep sich a sorrow from us, avourneen," 
 replied the poor mother, parting the boy's hair, 
 and dabbing his temples with a rag which she 
 had dipt in cold water for the purpose. " See 
 there now, the color's comin' back into your lips 
 and cheeks again, my darlint, and if you could 
 only get a bit of sleep to-night, to-morrow you'll 
 be as fresh as a rose, and ready to gauther chick- 
 weed in the fields wid Lizzy; and that'll be
 
 IIOME AND THE HOMELESS. 247 
 
 betther divarsion, won't it ? nor followin' a couple 
 of chatin' costermongers thro' the hot streets of 
 London." 
 
 "Deed will it! " cried the boy rousing at once 
 at this judicious allusion to his favorite employ- 
 ment. " And, mother dear, I hard only yester- 
 day of a house in the city, where they do have 
 water-cresses every niornin' for breakfast. The 
 boy that sarved them is dead, and who knows 
 but what if I gauthered them fresh an' fresh, I 
 mightn't git the revarsion myself; anyways it 
 would be no harrum to thry." 
 
 Satisfied with having accomplished this change 
 in his ideas, Mrs. Darville, judiciously made no 
 reply, and with his head still resting on her 
 shoulder, Jim was gradually sinking into a much 
 needed slumber, when he was roused again by a 
 noise upon the stairs. 
 
 " It's Harry come back," cried Mrs. Darville 
 in uncontrollable agitation. "Hide yourself, 
 bouchal, lay down beside the childhre, or he'll 
 be the death of you entirely." 
 
 "It ain't father's step," said Jim, listening, "and 
 there's more nor half-a-dozen on 'em besides."
 
 248 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 "Holy Mary," cried the poor woman trembling 
 all over with one of those inexplicable presenti- 
 ments which so often and so strangely warn ns 
 of coming evil. 
 
 " It's kilt, he is, wid the dhrink an' fightin', 
 and they're carry in' him up-stairs." 
 
 Jim seized the solitary candle, and followed by 
 his mother, rushed out upon the landing place. 
 It was already filled with men and women, some 
 of the former being bearers of a door which 
 seemed to have been taken off its hinges for the 
 purpose, and upon which lay an awful something, 
 covered mysteriously with a sheet. 
 
 At the sudden appearance of Mrs. Darville, 
 most of the men who surrounded it fell back, 
 while one or two of the women made a movement 
 as if they would prevent her approach. 
 
 But she was at the side of the stretcher before 
 they had time to prevent it, and taking the 
 candle from Jim with one hand, with the other 
 drew back the covering. 
 
 It was even as her heart had told her. With 
 his once fiery face now as pale as ashes, with the 
 angry eyes now dimmed and sunken, and the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 249 
 
 swollen features shrunk and fixed beyond all 
 possibility of future re-animation, Harry Dar- 
 ville lay there before her, and he was dead. 
 
 The history of his closing hours it needed few 
 words to tell; a drinking bout and a quarrel, a 
 blow and a fit, less the effect of injury than ex- 
 citement. It has been the history of thousands 
 ere his time. It will be the history of thousands 
 yet, who venture to live as he did ! 
 
 M 5
 
 250 HOME AND THE HOMELESS, 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 All that weary night Jim and his mother knelt 
 side by side by the corpse of the man, who had 
 been so suddenly and so fearfully summoned to 
 his doom. There he lay before them, a fearful 
 and disfigured object, and the widow's heart died 
 within her as she looked upon him and remem- 
 bered how he had lived and how he had died. 
 He, to whom she had given herself in the fear- 
 less gladness of afresh young heart; he, for whose 
 sake and at whose persuasion she had left her 
 own home and her own people, while yet almost 
 a child in years and inexperience, to seek with 
 him a living among strangers ; he, for whom, and
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS 251 
 
 for whose children, she had ever since toiled and 
 plodded, and hoped, and prayed with a love that 
 knew not how to weary or complain; he, who, 
 but for this one vice, which brutalized and un- 
 manned him, might still have been good, and in- 
 dustrious, and loving as she once thought him ; 
 but who, as every other drunkard does, had long 
 since swamped any natural good gifts he might 
 have been possessed of, in an ocean of maddening 
 and soul enslaving gin ; he had gone, as such 
 men, alas ! too often go, without a moment for 
 repentance, with hardly an instant, as it seemed 
 to human eyes, between his crime and its hour of 
 judgment. 
 
 He had gone; — but whither, and to what? 
 Mrs. Darville dared not ask herself the question, 
 and so she turned from the terrible unknown in 
 which her husband's present state was plunged to 
 pray for the children whom he had left, that they 
 might ever be preserved from the fatal vice to 
 which their father had fallen a victim. 
 
 A coroner's inquest, a coffin of deal boards, 
 and a parish funeral were the next items in this 
 history of sorrow, and when all was over and the
 
 252 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 little family were left once more to carry on their 
 hard struggle with poverty and the world, Jim 
 and his mother stood gazing upon each other in 
 considerable perplexity as to how this was to be 
 accomplished. 
 
 "There's nothin' for it but the ' house ' afther 
 all, dear, I'm afeard," observed Mrs. Darville, 
 after a long and sorrowful pause, during which 
 her eye had wandered by turns from the empty 
 lire grate to the group of half naked children 
 who sat in a corner of the room, huddled to- 
 gether for the sake of warmth, and too much ex- 
 hausted by cold and hunger even to utter their 
 complaints aloud. 
 
 " The house!" echoed Jim. "But where's 
 the use, mother, when you towld me only the 
 other day that they wouldn't let us in for love 
 or money, but just pass us on to Ireland to live 
 or die as best plaizes the Almighty ?" 
 
 " Troth would they, dear, or may be I'd have 
 tried them long ago. But you see me and the 
 poor man that's gone (God rest him!) we were 
 born and married in Ireland, and so if I ask re- 
 lief, it will be to Ireland sure enough they'll be
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 253 
 
 sending me for to find it, tho' God knows, what 
 wid one thing or another, there mayn't be so much 
 as one remaining in the parish, that can remem- 
 ber the girleen that I was when I left it dancing 
 for joy like to the music of my own heart just 
 thirteen years ago. And that's why I don't 
 want to go there, acushla, for sure here we've a 
 little thrade and might have more if the times 
 grew betther; but there we must make up our 
 minds to starve entirely, since there's no one of 
 my own people left that I know of to care a 
 trauneen about us." 
 
 " There now, don't be down-hearted about it," 
 said Jim, who saw that his mother's tears were 
 beginning to flow fast at this reminiscence of her 
 early home ; u don't be down-hearted about it, 
 and I'll go to Misther Hardman this minute I 
 will, and if he havn't got a heart harder nor 
 the very stones, that his big house is built of, 
 he'll give you a job for this wanst just to keep 
 us from starvation." 
 
 Mrs. Darville tried to smile, but though she 
 did not attempt to dissuade him from his pur- 
 pose, she could not refrain from shaking her head
 
 254 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 in a way that showed how little she hoped from 
 Mr. Hardman's clemency. 
 
 The remainder of the afternoon was therefore 
 spent by Jim in walking from one wholesale 
 establishment in the boot making trade to 
 another, imploring with all the eloquence his 
 urgent wants inspired, what he called a " spell 
 of work for his mother and himself." Alas ! in 
 every instance he was destined to meet with a 
 rebuff, and Mr. Hardman in particular showed 
 himself more than usually inexorable, in con- 
 sequence of feeling himself aggrieved by the 
 boy's former attempts at keeping up the original 
 rate of wages. Baffled at last and weary, the 
 poor fellow was fain unwillingly to confess to 
 himself that for that night at least success was 
 hopeless, and he was beginning slowly to retrace 
 his steps towards his miserable home, when he 
 saw, or fancied that he saw, John Nightshade 
 leaning against a lamp-post in the very street 
 which he was intending to go down. Jim, as 
 may easily be supposed, was by no means 
 anxious for the renewal of an intimacy which 
 had terminated so unsatisfactorily before, and
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 255 
 
 devoutly hoping that he had not been recognized 
 by his slippery acquaintance, he turned short off 
 into a narrow lane, which he fancied would lead 
 him in an opposite direction. 
 
 Down this he proceeded at a rapid pace, but 
 he had not gone far before his quick ear caught 
 the sound of a stealthy tread behind him. He 
 did not venture to look back, lest he should give 
 the forester, (if it indeed were he) an oppor- 
 tunity to hail him, and as little did he dare to 
 run, for he felt that John could overtake him in 
 an instant, so he went on dodging down first one 
 dark lane and then another, in hopes of shaking 
 off his pursuer, until he found himself involved 
 in such an intricacy of streets and alleys that he 
 no longer knew where he was. Nevertheless the 
 mysterious pit-a-pat was still behind him, and 
 he could not pause to reconnoitre; so though the 
 evening was rapidly closing in, and the lamps 
 were here and there beginning to twinkle in the 
 distance, he continued to go blindly on, until at 
 last entirely losing his presence of mind he took 
 to his heels and fled. He might have spared 
 himself the trouble, the feet behind him instantly
 
 256 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 quickened to a run, and feeling that they were 
 every moment gaining on him, Jim plunged at a 
 venture down an alley which having, unluckily 
 for him, no other out-let, he was brought to in- 
 continently by a dead wall at the further end. A 
 heavy hand was instantly laid upon his shoulder, 
 and Jim resigned himself at once to the idea of a 
 beating. Great was his astonishment, therefore, 
 when he found himself saluted by John Night- 
 shade, for it was he in fact, in a voice infinitely 
 more kind and cheery than he had ever heard 
 from his lips before. 
 
 " Why, Jim, my fine fellar, what manners you, 
 have ! I say, do you always tear away that 'ere 
 fashion when a gent wants to shake hands with 
 you?" 
 
 The unexpected kindness of this address was 
 too much for Jim. A beating he had antici- 
 pated, and could have borne, but kindness upset 
 his assumed fortitude altogether, and he burst 
 into tears. 
 
 "Crying?" questioned John, in a very 
 different tone from that in which he had uttered 
 the same words on the first night of their
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 257 
 
 acquaintance. " Why what's that for? I know 
 that you've lost the old 'un, but I shouldn't have 
 thought that a reason for wet eyes, because tho' 
 a very good fellow indeed in a c public,' he must 
 have been rayther out of rule I should say as a 
 family man? '' 
 
 "It warn't altogether that," said Jim, honestly, 
 trying at the same time to check his emotion. 
 " But I thought you war going to bate me, mister 
 John, so the kind word tuck me by surprise like." 
 
 " Oh, you thought I was going to wallop you, 
 did you?" John answered with a look which 
 seemed to say he would have liked greatly to 
 make good the suspicion. " Well, I won't say but 
 what it was a dirty trick you played us, Jim, 
 for to peach on a pal is what never should be 
 allowed among gemmen. However, I don't want 
 to be down upon you for that just now you see, 
 because 1 know that you must have a good deal 
 on your mind to worrit you already." 
 
 Greatly encouraged, and completely taken in 
 by this appearance of benevolence, Jim now 
 ventured to reveal the history of his troubles, 
 dwelling chiefly on the misery of having to
 
 258 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 return to his mother that night, without any 
 immediate prospect for the amelioration of their 
 condition. To all this, John listened in silence, 
 and if there was a gleam of sullen joy upon his 
 countenance. Jim not unnaturally attributed it 
 to the prospect of doing a kind act, for no 
 sooner had he finished speaking than his auditor 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "The scaly old griffin! (by which elegant 
 appellation he meant to designate Mr. Hardman) 
 strike me ugly, if he doesn't deserve to be left 
 at low waters himself for refusing a lift to a 
 gent of your merit and inches. Well, now, my 
 tulip, you see as softness is one thing and gammon 
 another, I couldn't rightly ask you to join us 
 
 again, because one more such d fit of 
 
 honesty as took you last time would be the 
 spoiling to all eternity of the business we go 
 on. Nevertheless, I am very willing to do you 
 a good turn elsewhere if I can, and I do know 
 a cove in the city that is looking for hands in 
 the boot sewing line. He is in the wholesale 
 line, and with a good word from me would set 
 up both you and the old woman at once in the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 259 
 
 article of work. I say with a good word from 
 me, for he is rayther of a methody turn of mind, 
 is my friend, and uncommon partic'lar in course 
 as to the characters of his people." 
 
 " And the pay?" asked Jim, his whole face 
 blazing at this unexpected prospect of employ- 
 ment. 
 
 " Very good pay indeed," the other responded. 
 " Because my pal, you see, ain't by no means 
 close fisted by nature, and in course them as he 
 employs have no reason to grumble. Bless'ee, 
 lad, I've knowed him when times were bad, fling 
 jingo right and left among his people as if he'd 
 kept it in his pocket for that purpose alone." 
 
 Of course Jim was all eagerness to go and 
 offer himself to this paragon of boot makers, and 
 of course also John affected at first to demur. 
 u It was late," he said, and he was tired, and it 
 was a long way besides to that part of the town 
 where his friend resided ; but in the midst of all 
 this hesitation, he cunningly contrived to in- 
 sinuate so many fears as to the chances of the 
 former having already filled up the number of 
 his hands if they delayed to apply till the morn-
 
 260 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 ing, that Jim not only grew more and more re- 
 solute to seek him that same night, but felt it in 
 fact as a very great favor when the other con- 
 sented at last to do so with the characteristic 
 observation, that if they did go, they must walk 
 like winky, for it was a frightful step further 
 into the city. 
 
 Having once, however, suffered himself to be 
 persuaded, John seemed generously to put aside 
 all further hesitation on the subject, and taking 
 Jim patronizingly by the hand, they set off to- 
 gether at a pace that, half trot half walk, without 
 being actually a run, was in fact nearly as rapid. 
 Down one lane they plunged and up another, 
 faster and faster and faster still, until leaving 
 the better inhabited streets entirely behind them, 
 they merged into narrow places dim, dark and 
 dirty even to the well accustomed eyes of Jim. 
 At such an hour of course not many respectable 
 persons were to be seen abroad, but in their stead 
 they too often came suddenly upon knots of suspi- 
 cious looking individuals conversing together 
 under the shade of the houses, and once they 
 were encountered by a ruffianly looking fellow
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 261 
 
 who appeared not altogether unknown to the 
 forester, albeit the deep brimmed wide awake 
 slouched over his brow, and the neck cloth which 
 buried the lower part of his face entirely in its 
 folds, suggested even to the unsuspecting Jim the 
 idea of intentional concealment. Policemen also, 
 were to be seen at first, keen, though unobtrusive 
 observers of every passing creature, but even this 
 sign of civilization failed them in the end, and 
 frightened and confused he could scarce tell where- 
 fore, for one brief moment Jim entertained the 
 desperate idea of shaking himself loose from his 
 conductor's grasp and flying for his life. It was 
 dismissed, however, almost as soon as it occurred, 
 for even admitting that he could have extricated 
 himself without a guide from the labyrinth of 
 streets in which he had become involved, (a thing 
 certainly more than doubtful,) he felt sure that 
 if John really intended mischief, he must have 
 plenty of pals, as he called them, in that part of 
 the city, who would not only join in the hue and 
 cry against him, but if they could catch him, 
 would make him pay dearly enough for having 
 attempted to escape.
 
 262 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Wisely, therefore, making a merit of necessity, 
 he submitted without any remonstrance to the 
 guidance of his companion and after a sharp 
 walk of about an hour's duration, they stopped 
 before a dingy, faded looking mansion, situated 
 at the end of a long street composed of other 
 houses as dingy and faded looking as itself. A 
 low and peculiar tap at the door of this unpro- 
 mising looking abode, brought a showily dressed 
 damsel to their aid, and while chucking her under 
 the chin with the air of an old acquaintance, 
 John explained to her, that he had taken the 
 liberty of bringing a young shaver with him, 
 who was looking everywhere for an honest occu- 
 pation and could find it nowhere. 
 
 " Any one as you brings with you, sir, must 
 be welcome surelie," the young lady responded 
 with a simper, "walk in, my dear, and please 
 mind where you steps, for yonder staircase is 
 rayther of the steepest." 
 
 Certainly it was, and notwithstanding the 
 warning, Jim would probably have fallen head- 
 long down it, if John had not saved him the 
 trouble by laying hold of his collar and hustling
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 263 
 
 him along with a muttered imprecation which 
 sounded badly enough for the lad's future chances. 
 The room into which he was thus summarily in- 
 troduced seemed intended to serve both as kitchen 
 and parlour to its ordinary inhabitants. A 
 furious fire blazed on the hearth, and the place 
 was so redolent with tobacco smoke and gin, that 
 it was a moment or more before Jim's eyes had 
 sufficiently recovered from the blinding effects of 
 their fumes to discover a party of ill-favoured men 
 and worse favoured women seated together at a 
 table, drinking, smoking, gambling and quarrel- 
 ling, as it seemed all in one breath, while another 
 group, younger in years, but nearly as old in 
 wickedness, was similarly employed at the other 
 end of the room. 
 
 In his first bewilderment Jim turned for ex- 
 planation to his conductor, but the look of 
 triumphant malice that now gleamed openly out 
 of John's dark eye*, only served to convince him 
 he had been cruelly ensnared. 
 
 " Make yourself at home, my young friend," 
 he observed bowing to the unhappy boy, with 
 an air of mock respect, " this ere gent at the
 
 264 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 head of the table is the pal that I spoke of, and 
 he'll give you occupation enough I daresay il it's 
 that that you're arter." 
 
 " May be he hasn't got any just now that 
 would shute me," said Jim, trying hard to speak 
 calmly and show no distrust, " any way, I see 
 his honor is engaged to-night, and I wouldn't 
 like to throuble him with my little bizness in the 
 midst of his pleasures; so if you plaize, Misther 
 John, I'll come back to-morrow when he'll have 
 slep off his licker." 
 
 u Not so fast, my mannie," replied John, put- 
 ting himself between the door and his victim, 
 u don't you know that you are preciously in my 
 debt already, and that I ain't the man to let you 
 out of this ere abode of peace and plenty, till 
 you've paid me up to the last farthing." 
 
 " Ah, then sure it's just funning you must be, 
 Misther John," replied Jim, opening his eyes ex- 
 tremely wide at this unlooked for accusation. 
 " Sure wasn't I working wid you every Messed 
 day of the week, just barring the last two, and 
 never got nothing at all for my pains — not that 
 I thought of asking," he added, remembering the
 
 HOME AND 1HE HOMELESS. 265 
 
 danger of putting John in the wrong in his own 
 stronghold — " not that I thought of asking, nor 
 mother neither, becase of coorse it warn't rightly 
 to he expected, considerin' the way that I left 
 yez." 
 
 " And may I ask you if you think that you 
 owe me nothing for that," replied John with a 
 scowl so ferocious that Jim felt as if his heart 
 had shrunk down to his shoe strings, " or if you 
 figure John Nightshade to yourself as a cove 
 likely to let himself be sold gratis for the amuse- 
 ment of a little beggar like you. I only ask, 
 my man, because if you do, it is but fair to un- 
 deceive you, and to make you once for all aware 
 that I never stand no nonsense with no one, and 
 that if you owe me nothing else, you owe me at 
 any rate a pretty considerable lot of revenge 
 which I mean to take out of you before you set a 
 foot out of this." 
 
 This savage speech wound up Jim's previous 
 terrors to such a height, that feeling certain his 
 life was endangered, and quite forgetting the 
 odds against him, he rushed towards the door in 
 the desperate hope of effecting his escape. John, 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 however, was as quick as he was and, alas, much 
 stronger ; his great arras were around the fugitive 
 in a moment, and before Jim knew rightly what 
 had happened he felt himself lifted off his feet, 
 and carried amid the jeers of the spectators down 
 a dark, steep ladder, which led to a cellar under- 
 neath the kitchen . Into this kind of prison he 
 was violently hurled by his vindictive captor, 
 and when the door was closed upon him from 
 the outside he found himself in a den so dark 
 that he could barely see his hand, and so deep, 
 apparently, in the bowels of the earth, that but for 
 the movements of the rats which his entrance had 
 disturbed, he felt as if he could almost have heard 
 the loud beatings of his own heart. 
 
 After waiting for a few minutes to see if his 
 tyrant would return, he managed to grope his 
 way back again as far as the door; not that he 
 imagined he should find it open, but simply that 
 he hoped through crevice, or through key hole, 
 to discover some sound of life overhead, which 
 might remove that irrepressible sensation of fear 
 that had crept over him in the darkness and 
 solitude of the place. But either the cellar was
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 267 
 
 too far away, or the drunken revelry was over, 
 for nothing reached his ear save the ceaseless 
 gnawing of the rats around him, and in his dread 
 of encountering one of these disgusting animals 
 he remained perfectly mute and motionless, coiled 
 up into as small a compass as he could manage 
 to compress himself against the wall, when the 
 low breathing of some thing or creature appar- 
 ently close at his side brought his terror to a 
 climax, and an irrepressible cry of agony escaped 
 from his lips. 
 
 " Hush !" said a low, sweet voice, not as it 
 seemed a yard from his elbow. <c Hush ! and if 
 you are very good and quiet now, poor boy, they 
 will certainly let you out to-morrow." 
 
 " Who's there?" cried Jim. " Lord save us !" 
 he added, rapidly crossing himself. u May be it 
 was only a spurrit afther all." 
 
 " It is only I," replied the childish voice, which 
 seemed to have moved in the interval a little 
 nearer to him. 
 
 "Arrah! and who is I?" asked Jim, some- 
 what reassured by this apparently human re- 
 joinder to his question. 
 
 N 2
 
 268 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " Aileen," was the short, low answer. 
 
 M Musha, then," Jim answered, all his former 
 doubts again recurring to his mind ; " but if you 
 are the girleen that I take you for, it's wondher- 
 ful it is, how you did manage to get in, for the 
 door behind me is locked and boulted, and the 
 kay not in it at all, at all." 
 
 " It's on the outside though," replied the 
 child, u and I came in when you were over there. 
 Bill told me the new boy was in it, and I wanted 
 to tell you not to be frightened, because it's not 
 so bad as it seems. They put me in often, and 
 at first the rats frightened me dreadfully, but I 
 got used to them at last, and so in time will 
 you." 
 
 " You don't mane for to tell me," cried Jim, 
 11 that they have shut you in here. Why, 
 judgin' from your voice and hoith, for sorra 
 glimpse can I catch of your purthy face in the 
 darkness, but jist guessin like from your voice 
 and hoith, you can't be more nor a slip of a 
 gerril that would be afeard to fight wid a blue 
 bottle fly, let alone wid the rats that, bad luck to 
 them, are scamperin' an' squeelin' about us."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 269 
 
 "Yes, but they did though/' replied the child, a 
 sob that was quite involuntary showing how much 
 she was touched by Jim's evident sympathy. 
 
 " Ough, the hathins!" cried Jim, all personal 
 fear swallowed up in indignation at such cruelty 
 practised on one even more helpless than him- 
 self. " The cowld-blooded, murtherin' haythins, 
 to daure for to trate a christian babby like 
 that!" and groping his way as well as he could 
 in the dark he soon had his arm round a little 
 creature soft and downy as a kitten, who when 
 she felt how gently he handled her, clung to him 
 as though there were protection in his touch. 
 
 "And what did they do it for, darlint? 
 Yerra! don't you be a sobbin' that way, but tell 
 what did they do it for, won't you?" 
 
 " For shaking the doll." replied Aileen. "I 
 always do shake it, and that's why I'm in here 
 so often." 
 
 " For sh akin' the doll!" Jim repeated, more 
 indignant than ever. " Well, if that doesn't 
 bate any thing that ever I heerd on. Why, if 
 it war' a cat now, or a dog even, it would be 
 makin' too much shindey about it; but a doll!
 
 270 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Where was the harrum I wondher, 'specially if 
 as most likely it war' your own." 
 
 " No, but it's not mine though," replied the 
 child. " It belongs to the master." 
 
 " Faix ! and it's a quare sort o' masther he 
 must be, to be havin' sich a plaything as that," 
 said Jim his bewilderment increasing at each 
 word she uttered. " And tell me, acchora, did 
 you break the dolly, or what did you do, that 
 he made sich a rumpus about it?" 
 
 " Break the doll? Oh, no, I am not nearly 
 strong enough for that," said Aileen, evidently 
 half-smiling at the very notion." 
 
 "Then what did you do?" 
 
 " I rung the bell." 
 
 " Eung the bell? A grate idaya entirely. 
 You rung the bell; and what then, alannah?" 
 
 " Then, don't you see, the master put me in 
 here to make me do better next time." 
 
 " Ayan ! God mark us all to grace," cried Jim, 
 " if I don't think you must be all gone stark 
 starin' mad together, and myself may be the 
 same as well, for only listenin' to such folly. But 
 tell me, darlint — "
 
 HOME AND THE ITOMELESS. 271 
 
 What Jim was going to ask Aileen, however, 
 was never destined to be known, for in the midst 
 of his speech the door was unlocked and opened, 
 and a man, whom the shrinking Aileen announced 
 in a hurried whisper as " the very master," 
 whose dollish partialities they had just been so 
 freely discussing, approached them with a candle, 
 which he flourished nearly in their faces, pro- 
 bably with a view to ascertain which of his 
 hopeful pupils had dared to associate themselves 
 so intimately with the captive. 
 
 A pale-faced, bloateddooking man he was, as 
 Jim gazed upon him in that murky light, and 
 with a look of cruel roguery in his eyes which 
 made him seem quite a different sort of ruffian 
 from the jolly Dick, or the sad-eyed, ruthless- 
 looking Nightshade. 
 
 " Wot, you ain't becomed chums already, ain't 
 you though?" he commenced, in a voice that 
 corresponded indifferently well with the vile ex- 
 pression of his countenance. " But I might 
 have guessed it, I might, if birds of a feather 
 flock together, as the knowing ones say they do. 
 Howsomedever, you must cut your luckie now,
 
 272 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Miss Aileen, for I carn't let you in here a cor~ 
 ruptin' of new comers. So cut off at once, I 
 say, will ye, if you doan't want strap sarce for 
 your supper to-night." 
 
 u Yerra, hut you wouldn't sure, sir, to a bit 
 of a thing like that?" cried Jim, forgetful of his 
 own safety in anxiety for that of his little com- 
 panion, who had sprung at least two yards from 
 him on the first entrance of the master. 
 
 " Wouldn't I though," said the ruffian coarsely. 
 " She'd hotter not try it, that's all, for if she 
 ain't got it as yet, that's no sort of region, hut 
 quite the contrairy, why she shouldn't have a 
 taste of it in future. Sn cut off at once, young 
 missus, if you vally that ere white skin o' yours 
 at any thing like a regionahle hestimation." 
 
 Thus admonished, the little girl moved towards 
 the door, but just as she was passing through it 
 she turned onee more towards Jim, and lifted her 
 hand with a gesture of encouragement ere she 
 vanished down the passnge. After her depar- 
 ture " the master" satisfied his feelings by ad- 
 ministering an odd kick or two to his prisoner 
 as a sort of admonishment for the future, and
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 273 
 
 then carrying the candle with him departed also, 
 leaving the boy to take what repose he might 
 upon the floor of the rat peopled cellar ; nor will 
 it, we trust, considering the circumstances of the 
 case, be considered an imputation on his courage 
 if we add, that after hours of weary wakefulness 
 and sorrow Jim fairly cried himself to sleep at 
 last. 
 
 N5
 
 274 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Jim's first thoughts on waking the following 
 morning naturally led him to conclude that he 
 was still in his mother's garret, but one glance 
 round tfie cellar, where only a dim twilight ever 
 reigned, however high the sun might be in the 
 heavens without, sufficed to relieve him of this 
 blest illusion, and he hid his face in his hands to 
 stifle the sob of agony that was rising to his 
 lips. Even the poor indulgence of tears, how- 
 ever, was destined to be denied him, for the door 
 of his dungeon was suddenly unlocked, and the 
 coarse face of " the master" appeared on the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. '275 
 
 threshold, bidding him in no very gentle accents 
 to get up and follow him. 
 
 At this peremptory summons the boy instantly 
 leaped to his feet, but even as he hurried to the 
 door he could not help muttering to himself, " I 
 wonder now if I mightn't ask him to let me stop 
 for a minute to say a mouthful of prayers?" 
 
 u Prayers !" scoffed the master, catching the 
 words as it fell from his lips ; " keep 'em to curl 
 your hair, my fine fellar. We doan't patronize 
 such shuperstitious practices in this 'ere bul'ark 
 of British hindependance, so follow me at once 
 and say no more about it, if you doan't want to 
 put your shoulders to aill-conwenience as prayer 
 ain't hardly doctor enough to plaster." 
 
 Thus curtly admonished, Jim followed his con- 
 ductor to the kitchen, where the visitors of the 
 preceding evening had carried on their carouse, 
 as the stale vapour of gin, brandy, and tobacco, 
 and other as enticing odours which filled the 
 atmosphere from floor to ceiling, sufficiently 
 attested. Even now, early as it was, there were 
 men and women too, commencing the day by 
 potations of their favorite liquids, though some,
 
 276 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 chiefly of the younger members of this strange 
 community, were preparing for themselves a 
 morning meal, composed of somewhat less objec- 
 tionable materials. One glance, however, was 
 as much as Jim could spare to these, for almost 
 at the instant of his entrance, his whole soul 
 became riveted upon the tall figure of a man who 
 was standing witli his back to the door by which 
 he had just entered. Not that the individual in 
 question was particularly well dressed, even to 
 the uncritical eyes of his present observer ; though 
 a silk pocket handkerchief of much more showy 
 pattern and costly material, than the rest of his 
 attire might have seemed to warrant, did stick 
 out daintily enough from the pocket of his coat; 
 It was, however, far less this circumstance than 
 his extreme immobility of look and posture that 
 chiefly excited Jim's curiosity about him. He 
 wore a hat which seemed intended not only to 
 cover his head, but to rest most curiously upon 
 his shoulders also, nor could all the noise and 
 clatter going on about him induce him to look 
 round even once during the long five minutes 
 that Jim remained staring at him. Baffled
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 277 
 
 at last by this excessive stillness, the boy 
 gave up his scrutiny, to bestow his attention 
 instead upon the breakfast, which one of the 
 women now presented to him, and which, 
 truth to say, was a great improvement, both 
 as to quantity and quality upon his home 
 allowance. While he was discussing it, he looked 
 anxiously around, in hopes of discovering some 
 one who might answer to his preconceived idea 
 of his little visitor of the night before. There 
 was nothing, however, in the scrubby-heads, and 
 over-sharp, intelligent looking faces near him 
 which by any effort of imagination he could 
 associate with his visionary image of Aileen, and 
 he had nearly given up all hopes of meeting 
 her again, at least, in the public kitchen of the 
 house, when a momentary swaying of the little 
 crowd enabled him to catch a glimpse of her 
 at last, seated upon a low settle, alone and 
 apparently self-withdrawn from all the other 
 occupants of the place. There is a story of a 
 fairy, who for some transgression of the laws of 
 fairy-dom, was sentenced by her elvish peers to 
 lose the brightness of her exterior beauty, to
 
 278 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 dismount from the pretty butterfly, which erst 
 had carried her joyfully through the fields of air, 
 and with chains on her delicate arms, and a 
 sombre robe flung round her fragile form, to 
 wander a captive on a slow moving moth. Jim, 
 of course, had never even heard the tale, nor 
 was it very likely that in his hard work-a-day 
 life he had ever formed to himself any very clear 
 idea of a fairy or her privileges; but if he had 
 done so, the recollection of the poor little dis- 
 graced Eivuletta would certainly have flashed 
 across him as he gazed that morning on Aileen. 
 Even the coarse rags in which they had wrapped 
 her could not conceal the natural refinement of 
 her beauty, and as she sat there upon a low stool 
 raised only a few inches from the floor, her head 
 resting listlessly on her little hand, and her 
 bright hair, (which luckily it had never oc- 
 curred to her present possessors to cut off,) 
 falling smoothly, but otherwise totally dis- 
 arranged upon her shoulders, he felt instinctively 
 that she was not more elevated in feeling and 
 appearance above her present associates than in 
 social condition also.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 279 
 
 Possibly Aileen, on her part also, already com- 
 prehended that the boy whom she had visited in 
 his prison the night before was, if of equally low 
 parentage with those around him, still very dif- 
 ferent from them by habit and education; for 
 even as lie was gazing on her, longing, yet not 
 daring to approach, she lifted her eyes suddenly 
 to his face, suffered them to rest for a moment 
 wistfully upon him, and then, as if fearful of being 
 discovered, dropped them as suddenly on the 
 floor again. The delighted Jim would have 
 rushed over to her at once, but something in her 
 manner seemed to intimate that it would be dan- 
 gerous to do so. He therefore contented himself 
 with watching her drooping, fragile little figure, 
 until at a signal from the u master" the knot of 
 boys, by whom they had hitherto been separated 
 from each other, moved off to that part of the 
 kitchen where the incomprehensible old gentle- 
 man was still standing like a statue. This was 
 too good an opportunity to be neglected, and Jim 
 took advantage of it to get nearer and nearer to 
 the little girl, until he managed to establish him- 
 self at last on a bench at a few yards distance.
 
 280 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 She however, neither looked up nor spoke even 
 then, so he did not venture to address her, and 
 employed himself instead in watching the boys at 
 the other end of the room, in hopes of learning 
 from the nature of their present occupation, what 
 would he expected of him by the future con- 
 trollers of his destiny. 
 
 We have said that he was quick witted and 
 intelligent enough when the effects of past disease 
 did not obscure his ideas, but no amount of 
 sharpness which Jim had ever been possessed of, 
 could have enabled him to interpret without as- 
 sistance the nature of the scene before him now. 
 One of the boys, singled out by the master for the 
 purpose, walked leisurely up to the patient old 
 gentleman, amid the encouragement of his com- 
 panions, some of whom even betted loudly on his 
 chances of success. What that chance might 
 be, or what the nature of the result expected, 
 Jim felt it to be absolutely impossible to guess, 
 so he waited and watched with his mouth and 
 eyes wide open, until the young adventurer 
 cautiously applying his hand to the pocket of 
 the patient, was in the act of drawing forth the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 281 
 
 identical silk handkerchief which we have no- 
 ticed hefore — when — the old gentleman started 
 — not a bit of it — he remained as passive as be- 
 fore, but a small bell which he carried somewhere 
 about him rung, and evidently considering him- 
 self defeated, the boy retired at once amid the 
 jeers of those who had before betted on his skill. 
 Another and another followed, each with a simi- 
 lar want of success, and far from arriving at any 
 rational interpretation of the scene before him, 
 Jim was growing each moment more absorbed 
 in wonder, less perhaps at the conduct of the 
 boys, than at the extraordinary equanimity of 
 their passive victim, when he felt a soft little 
 hand put into his, and heard a soft little voice 
 whisper quietly in his ear : 
 
 " Don't look at me, good boy, but listen, for I 
 don't want these people to think we are talking 
 together." 
 
 " Don't look," thought Jim, " think o' that 
 now, the cuteness of the crayture!" 
 
 But he only answered in a voice as cautiously 
 pitched as her own :
 
 282 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " Spake up, Miss, if you plaize, I'm a listenin' 
 wid all my ears." 
 
 " Don't call me Miss," replied the child, " my 
 name is Aileen, at least it is Aileen here." 
 
 "Well, Aileen, V ma listenin', darlint, but afore 
 you begin, acushla, may be you'd jist tell me 
 who the ould gentleman bey ant is, and why he 
 stands up so quiet, while them thieves of the 
 worruld do be pickin' his pocket. Sure if he had 
 any sinse at all at all, he'd jist make one dart in 
 on them and sind them flying like magpies, in- 
 stead of pullin' that bit of a bell that barely 
 scares them away for a moment." 
 
 A smothered laugh from his little friend here 
 caused him to stop short, and while he was still 
 feeling rather ashamed of the ignorance which he 
 felt he had somehow betrayed, Aileen questioned 
 in her turn : 
 
 " Why you don't mean to say you think he's 
 alive?" 
 
 " Ah, thin, and why wouldn't I, dear?" replied 
 Jim, u sure what's to hinder him?" 
 
 " Not much, certainly," observed the little
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 283 
 
 girl trying to look grave, " only that he's made 
 of wood, that's all." 
 
 " Made of wood, upon your honour now, 
 Aileen? Do tell me what is he at all, at all, 
 bad luck to him, what is he?" 
 
 " Why the doll to be sure; the master teaches 
 them on that. But oh, Jim, isn't that what 
 they call you ;" and Jim nodding his head she 
 went on, " don't you ever learn, Jim, or let him 
 teach you, for you will become a bad boy the 
 very instant that you do." 
 
 " Well you must know best to be shure, acush- 
 la," he answered after a little consideration; 
 "but if there's little sinse there's still less harrum 
 to my poor thinking, in stalin' a handkerchief 
 from a man of straw, an no great fun neither for 
 the matter of that, if it warn't for the ringing 
 of that jolly little bell." 
 
 " There is harm, and great harm too," re- 
 sponded his self elected little monitress, "for as 
 soon as you are clever enough to get the handker- 
 chief out of his pocket without ringing the bell, 
 you will be sent out into the streets, and if you 
 don't bring back ever so many handkerchiefs
 
 284 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 every night to the master, he'll beat you like 
 anything." 
 
 " Musha, then, and where is a poor gorsoon 
 like me for to get them." groaned Jim, feeling 
 as if he were becoming more thick-skulled and 
 bewildered at every syllable uttered by the 
 other. " Such things don't grow in the streets, 
 avourneen, like black-berries in the hedges, do 
 they? Leastways if they do, I've never had the 
 luck to find them." 
 
 " That's just it," said Aileen, eagerly ; " they 
 must be all stolen pocket handkerchiefs — mind 
 that, Jim. Stolen out of the pockets of the 
 people in the street." 
 
 " To think of that now," cried Jim. " Well, 
 thin, accushla, for as often as T hard tell of pick- 
 pockets in London, I niver knew afore this 
 blessid instant, that it was taught for all the 
 world like reading, writing, cyphering, and 
 arithmitic. May I never sin, Miss Aileen, if I 
 wouldn't like to thry my hand on the ould 
 gantleman myself. It would be rare fun, wouldn't 
 it for to bate them omadhauns at their ovn trade, 
 as I'm almost sure and sartain that 1 could."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 285 
 
 " Oh, but you mustn't, Jim. You mustn't 
 indeed," pleaded Aileen, earnestly. " If once 
 you want to succeed, you will go on without 
 knowing it, until you become a thief like the rest, 
 — that boy yonder with the black hair did, he 
 told me so himself; and sometimes he is sorry for 
 it even now, Jim ; dear Jim, promise me that you 
 will not even try to succeed — " 
 
 " And get strap sauce for my pains, as that 
 oaf did jnst now," replied Jim. " Sure you 
 wouldn't like to stand by and see me wallopped 
 like that, would you, acushla?" 
 
 u No! No!" replied Aileen, affectionately. 
 " Yet even that would not be so bad as the other. 
 Hush, Jim, they are calling for you. Now 
 promise me — won't you promise me that you will 
 not even try to do it?" 
 
 " Troth it would be a grate thing entirely that 
 I wouldn't promise for to plaize you," replied 
 Jim, tightly grasping the little hand that had 
 been put imploringly into his. " So here goes, 
 for the masther is callin' in good airnest." 
 
 Aileen hid her face in her hands, for she could 
 not bear to see that which she knew would be
 
 286 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 the result of her own interference; but Jim, on 
 the contrary, walked boldly and carelessly up to 
 the lay figure and pulled out the handkerchief 
 with so uncompromising a jerk that it rung as if 
 it never intended to stop. 
 
 There could be no doubt about its having been 
 done on purpose, and the enraged master in- 
 stantly rewarded bim by a savage blow on the 
 knuckles. Jim, however, had been too well 
 accustomed to this kind of argument on the part 
 of his father to feel either greatly surprised or 
 greatly aggrieved at its being applied to bim 
 now, so he merely said, smiling as he returned 
 to his seat by Aileen : 
 
 u I've you to thank for that blow, Miss 
 Aileen, so anyways I hope you're continted." 
 
 " Indeed I am very sorry," Aileen answered 
 in a crying voice. " And yet, anything is better 
 than that you should ever be a thief; but hush, 
 Hurdy-gurdy Bill is going to try his hand, and 
 he's sure to succeed, for he always does, that's why 
 he is the master's pet." 
 
 A moment afterwards and a loud shout 
 announced that the prophecy of the little girl
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 287 
 
 had been fulfilled, and then the crowd dispersing 
 in various directions, Jim found at last that he 
 and Aileen were the only children remaining in 
 the kitchen. He was just beginning to con- 
 gratulate himself on this fact, trusting it might 
 aid him in a scheme he was concocting for his own 
 escape and hers, (for to do him justice from the 
 moment she had given him to understand that she 
 also was an unwilling captive he had so associated 
 her sorrows with his own, that had freedom been 
 offered him then without her, he could hardly 
 have prevailed on himself to leave her;) when the 
 master very unceremoniously took him by the 
 arm and re-conducted him to his former prison. 
 Into this he was forthwith locked and bolted, 
 after having been given to understand, that if he 
 remained quiet during the day, he would be let 
 out again at the hour when the other inhabitants 
 of the mansion usually returned for the night. 
 We will pass over the history of the long hours 
 that ensued, happily a portion of them (not- 
 withstanding the loud warfare which the rats by 
 day as well as by night carried on among them- 
 selves) were passed in slumber, the result at once
 
 288 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 of weariness and sorrow, and it was from such a 
 state of blest forgetfulness that he was roused 
 towards night-fall, to be re-conducted to the 
 kitchen where he had breakfasted in the 
 morning. 
 
 Most of the boys whom he had seen there then 
 were again assembled, and the remainder were 
 dropping rapidly in, while Aileen, whom his 
 eager eye sought out directly, was seated on the 
 same low stool where he had first beheld her, and 
 so nearly in the same place and attitude, that he 
 could almost have persuaded himself she had not 
 stirred since morning. And now began a scene 
 which filled Jim with new wonder and dismay, 
 notwithstanding tlie hint previously given him 
 by Aileen. 
 
 Each boy on his entrance presented himself 
 before the master, and was disburdened by that 
 functionary of whatever valuables he had been 
 enabled to pick up in the course of his daily toil. 
 Infinite and very curious in its way was the 
 variety of articles thus presented to the public 
 gaze; pocket handkerchiefs being evidently the 
 staple commodity, interspersed, however, and en-
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS 289 
 
 livened by scarfs, keys, ladies' combs, tooth pick 
 cases, purses (none apparently containing any 
 great amount of cash), chains, and lockets. 
 Every boy was commended and rewarded in 
 exact proportion to the value and quantity of the 
 merchandise he had brought in, and this was 
 done with so just an appreciation of the merits 
 of each little individual of the thievish "fang, 
 that had Jim been as learned in proverbs as 
 Sancho Panza, that of " honour among thieves " 
 would certainly have occurred to his mind. 
 
 At last when every individual present had 
 passed through this ordeal, and a heap of all 
 sorts of miscellaneous trumpery lay on the floor 
 beside him, the master suddenly discovered that 
 one member of the community was still absent, 
 and eagerly enquired after Hurdy-Gurdy Bill. 
 
 " He'll be here in a flash of lightning," said 
 one of the boys, " I seed him an hour agone, at 
 the corner of Fleet Street, a playing and singing 
 to a lot of old leddies, and it will be very unlike 
 he indeed, if he don't bring back summut 'and- 
 some for a keepsake from one of 'em." 
 
 Even as he pronounced this opinion, which 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 290 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 seemed to be very generally that of his com- 
 panions also, the cracked notes of ahurdy gurdy 
 became audible from the passage, and in danced 
 the boy in question. He was playing with all 
 his might, and accompanying his instrumental 
 music with a song, the burthen of which, being 
 a mixture of bad English and worse Italian, he 
 had always found particularly effective with that 
 class of London citizens, who to a general 
 sympathy with Italian boys, unite no very clear 
 conception of their language. 
 
 " Ah, Sign or a, ah, Sign or a, 
 Da mi, da mi, 
 
 A halfe pennie, a halfe pennie, 
 Povero mi, povero mi, 
 Sing, dance for a halfe pennie." 
 
 A burst of applause greeted this effort of 
 genius, and amid the cheers and laughs of all 
 beholders, Bill danced, still playing on his instru- 
 ment up to the master, and never ceasing for a 
 moment the exercise of both voice and hand, 
 commenced disgorging his pockets of their ill- 
 gotten plunder. Hardly half a dozen of the 
 other lads had collected as much between them,
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 291 
 
 as uow came forth from his pockets alone, and 
 after a vast variety of articles had been added to 
 those already piled on the floor, Bill drew forth in 
 triumph a parse, which was found upon inspec- 
 tion to contain a considerable quantity of gold 
 and silver. 
 
 u Won't they have it cried, that's all," cried 
 the master exultingly, placing it among the less 
 ponderous, but more valuable portion of the 
 booty as soon as he had ascertained its contents. 
 
 Bill, however, feeling naturally unwilling to 
 hd so entirely deprived of the fruits of his inge- 
 nuity as this disposition on the part of the mas- 
 ter appeared to betoken, held out one implor- 
 ing hand, after the manner of Italian bovs, and 
 grinding away furiously on his instrument with 
 the other, hopped about in a sort of mad savage 
 dance to the burthen of his favourite composi- 
 tion, " da mi, da mi." 
 
 " No, hang it all, old fellar," he broke off in 
 his song to say, as the master tendered him a 
 five shilling piece, " silver's cheap and confoun- 
 dedly low, let it be gold this time; you owes it to 
 
 o 2
 
 292 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 me you do, for there ain't hardly a week I don't 
 bring it into your coffers." 
 
 " Gold let it be then/' said the other, substitut- 
 ing a half sovereign for the silver, " for I likes 
 to encourage genous, and you are the sharpest 
 hand out and out on a lay that I have in the 
 school, I will say that for you, Bill, and I ain't a 
 one to flatter without reason, as I 'opes every 
 lady and gemman present are by this time well 
 convinced of." 
 
 The ladies and gentlemen thus addressed imme- 
 diately responded to the call by an approving 
 cheer, and then Bill made his acknowledgment 
 for the compliment addressed to himself by pa- 
 thetically observing that "it were werry pleasant 
 to a cove it were, to have his merit recognised 
 by so excellent a judge, as the gent who pre- 
 sided at the head of their academy." After this, 
 he backed himself dexterously out of the crowd 
 towards the spot where Aileen and Jim were 
 sitting together, and having unbuckled his in- 
 strument, and otherwise prepared to make 
 himself comfortable for the evening, he sat down
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 293 
 
 by the little girl and presented her with six 
 pence, saying: 
 
 " Now, little queen, you ain't a got a single 
 blessid copper since you've been in our establish- 
 ment, so here goes for a crooked sixpence to buy 
 lolly pops or anything else that you may happen 
 to fancy." 
 
 "Thank you," said Aileen quietly; "but I 
 don't want lollypops, nor money either." 
 
 " But if you don't now, you may sometime 
 else you know," persisted the lad, who was fond 
 of Aileen, and pitied her, as the prettiest and 
 most unsuitable inmate that the tramp-bouse 
 could boast of. 
 
 " And if I did," she replied, fixing her blue 
 eyes reproachfully upon him, u I wouldn't be a 
 thief to get it. No ! not for all the lollypops in 
 the world, Mr. Bill." 
 
 The other laughed. A jolly unabashed laugh, 
 which told as plainly as if he had spoken the 
 words, that he considered this speech to be merely 
 the result of prejudices inherent in the education 
 of a weak minded little girl. 
 
 " Well, then, little queen," he went on as soon
 
 294 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 as he had conquered this paroxysm of mirth, 
 " I'll keep the money, shall I, until next time I 
 goes a shopping, and then I'll buy you the goods 
 myself? You can take them with a clear 
 conscience that way, you know, for you never 
 can be expected to guess where they comes 
 from." 
 
 "Yon needn't buy them, for I won't take 
 them," answered Aileen. u It would be just as 
 bad to let you buy them as to do so myself." 
 
 " As your leddyship pleases," he responded 
 with unfailing good humour. " This 'ere cove 
 as is a listening with his tooth-box wide open is 
 of the same methody way of thinking I conclude, 
 judging at least by the approving bob of that 
 werry large and magnificent head which he's got 
 set on his shoulders." 
 
 " For sartin," replied Jim, stoutly — more 
 stoutly, perhaps, than he would have dared to 
 attempt, if he had not been addressed in that 
 tone of contemptuous raillery which is so 
 grievously irritating to a sensitive mind, — 
 " Myself doesn't very well know what you 
 mane by a tooth-box," (here Bill pointed to his
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 295 
 
 mouth with so ridiculous an imitation of his 
 look of astonishment that even Aileen could not 
 refrain from smiling) " but I do know what 
 thief and thieving manes well enough, and I'd as 
 lief take stolen money as stolen goods, any day 
 in the year I would, for sure isn't one for all the 
 world every bit as much of a robbery as the 
 other?" 
 
 "No, would you though,"' Bill answered in his 
 mocking manner, "in that case you'd better make 
 up your mind to a precious sight o' strappin' 
 during your residence with we, my fine fellar; 
 for it's aginst our principles to let such hinno- 
 cent 'onesty as yours to live quietly among us." 
 
 u Troth, likely enough," Jim promptly 
 answered, "but in that case, Mister Bill, p'raps 
 you wouldn't object to its showin' you a clane 
 pair of heels altogether." 
 
 u I'd like to see the cove that did it though," 
 retorted Bill, " first and foremost it ain't no sich 
 easy job to get clear out of this part of the city 
 at all, 'specially if you haven't had the good for- 
 tin of being brought up in the wicinity, and 
 I've knowed more nor one cove, arter trampin'
 
 296 HOME ASD THE HOMELESS. 
 
 back'ards and for'ards for hours together, pull 
 up at last at the werry same door that he'd set 
 off from in the morning. Adding to which, (he 
 continued,) the streets hereabouts are all watched 
 by our palls, ?nd if you did escape from them 
 (wich isn't to say likely), you'd be sartain to 
 fall in with the traps instead, who having an 
 unjust idear that a tramp'ouse is only a polite 
 hepithet for a den of thieves, treat every one as 
 they thinks is come from it accordin'." 
 
 " So any ways there's no use trying to get clear 
 out of the place (bad luck to it), at all," Jim 
 answered with a groan, which had his life de- 
 pended on it, he could not at that moment have 
 repressed. 
 
 " Therefore, all you've got for it, is to make 
 yourself at home since you're in it," Bill very 
 seriously and impressively responded, " that's 
 wot I did when I com'd in first, and now I 
 wouldn't change the sitlvation for a kingdom." 
 
 " And I wouldn't keep it for two," cried the 
 indignant Jim, u so you needn't try to persuade 
 me, Misther Bill; honesty is the best policy 
 in the end, mother always says so."
 
 DOME AND THE HOMELESS. 297 
 
 To this observation Bill seriously replied by 
 enquiring if his mother knew he was out, apply- 
 ing at the same time his finger to his nose after 
 a manner well known already, no doubt, to most 
 of onr readers. 
 
 " No, she don't then," Jim answered, as he laid 
 his burning brow upon the table, and answered 
 in the perplexity of his grief to the literal rather 
 than the figurative part of the question. " But 
 oh, wirra wirra, don't I wish that she did though, 
 for sure it's not long I'd be here, if she only 
 knew I was in it." 
 
 A burst of tears followed this speech, which 
 Bill, however, did not wait to witness, for feeling 
 rather fatigued after the labours of the day, he 
 walked quietly off to bed. 
 
 A long silence followed, broken only by the 
 sobs of the unhappy boy, but at last unable to 
 see his grief without at least attempting to con- 
 sole him, Aileen put her soft little hand in his 
 and whispered earnestly : 
 
 " Don't cry so, dear Jim, only be good and 
 honest, and God will surely send some one to 
 help us — " 
 
 o 5
 
 298 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Suddenly she broke off, for a hand in turn was 
 laid upon her shoulder, and a voice tremulous 
 with emotion asked : 
 
 " Do you think He has sent me, birdeen?" 
 And Aileen was instantly in the arms of 
 Esther.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 299 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 Mr. Sutherland was in his study, one arm 
 resting in a sling, the other supporting his head 
 in an attitude of deep thought when a servant 
 entered to announce a "lady who wished to speak 
 to him in private." 
 
 " Send her to Miss de Burghe," he impatiently 
 replied. "What have I do with ladies? Will 
 that fellow never bring the brougham ? I ought 
 to have been in the city an hour ago." 
 
 Hardly, however, had the words passed his 
 lips ere some other thought seemed to strike him, 
 and he added quickly : 
 
 11 But stay — no need to trouble Miss de Burghe
 
 300 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 about it. I have ten minutes still to spare and 
 will see her in here myself." 
 
 The servant departed on his mission, and Mr. 
 Sutherland armed himself with a book, in the 
 contents of which he was, or affected to be, so 
 entirely absorbed, that even when the door again 
 unclosed for the admission of a lady in deep 
 mourning, he did not appear to be immediately 
 aware of her presence. 
 
 But at last came that question which albeit 
 he expected, and was prepared for it, he could 
 not hear without an involuntary quickening of 
 the pulse. 
 
 " Mr. Sutherland, I have come to ask you for 
 my child." 
 
 " Madame ! " he replied, answering as he had 
 been addressed, in French, and throwing a certain 
 air of astonishment into his manner. " Is she 
 no longer with you ? " 
 
 " Oh, sir," cried Madame de St. Arnoul, 
 springing suddenly to his side and speaking in a 
 voice of terrible bewilderment. * 4 Do not say — 
 for the love of the good God above us, do not say 
 that you know nought about her ! "
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 30 L 
 
 " And, alas! Madame, what else can I say? 
 or how find words to explain to you, that in that 
 terrible moment — " 
 
 " Aye," she added approaching, her face close 
 to his, and gazing on him with eyes that seemed 
 literally burning in their fierce excitement, a In 
 that terrible moment, aye — " 
 
 " In that terrible moment," pursued Mr. 
 Sutherland, " when you were torn from me by 
 the crowd, she also — " 
 
 " Oh, do not say it — do not say it!" the 
 mother uttered with a cry of agony that might 
 have softened a tiger's heart. 
 
 " But what else can I say? " he asked, in what 
 might have passed for a tone of affectionate per- 
 plexity. 
 
 Madame de St. Arnoul made no reply, and 
 after a pause, broken only by the suppressed 
 weeping of the mother, he again went on : 
 
 " I thought, or at least, I hoped that as you 
 had both disappeared at the same moment, you 
 had not been separated from each other. It 
 appears I was mistaken; unhappily indeed," he
 
 302 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 added after another pause of most ominous im- 
 port; u for a child, in such a crowd — I cannot 
 conceal from you, Madame that it is difficult not 
 to expect the worst." 
 
 He was interrupted again by a fearful shriek 
 — the cry of a mother's breaking heart. 
 
 " Oh, sir, do not say it ; do not say it. Suffer 
 me to hope on still ! I had some hope before I 
 saw you. Do not take it utterly away. Do not 
 steel your heart entirely against me. You have 
 children of your own, think what it is to suffer 
 on their account." 
 
 " Ave, Madame," he responded shortly, and 
 with a look of such vindictive meaning that it 
 seemed to freeze her very life blood. " You do 
 well to remind me. A scamp and a cripple. 
 It is a desirable paternity in truth ! " 
 
 " Oh, I know now that I was very cruel," she 
 answered in a voice of real sorrow. a But re- 
 member I was maddened by your insults when 
 I said it. Forgive me, I beseech you, and if 
 you know aught of my unhappy child, have pity 
 upon me and tell me ! "
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 303 
 
 " What cm I tell von," he askei in the same 
 icy tone that before had chilled her, " or admit- 
 ting that I can, why should I?" 
 
 " The world, sir, will say you should," she im- 
 petuously replied. 
 
 " Aye, madame," he answered coldly, fi hut 
 first you must prove to the world that I can.'' 
 
 Madame de St. Arnoul passed her hand over 
 her brow like one in a dream — 
 
 "Prove!" she answered vaguely, U I don't 
 want to prove anything, there's nothing to prove 
 that I know ot." 
 
 Mr. Sutherland watched her from beneath 
 his half closed eyelids and saw that his game 
 was a sure one. 
 
 Impetuous by turns, and languid as her eastern 
 habits and natural character had combined to 
 make her, timid as a child and nearly as ignorant 
 as one, of any world outside the little one in 
 which she had moved in India ; scarcely under- 
 standing English, and utterly unable to speak it, 
 the young Creole was in truth a mere plaything 
 in the hands of such a man as he was. hard 
 hearted by nature, heart hardened by occupa-
 
 304 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 tion, and therefore ready and willing to play any 
 game, however desperate, for that which he 
 valued above gold, the conservation of his fair 
 name in the opinion of the world. 
 
 u I have already told you, Madame," he ob- 
 served, with a greater show of interest than 
 he had hitherto displayed, " I have already ex- 
 plained to you that you were both separated from 
 me at the same moment, and this sling," he added 
 glancing slightly at his supported arm, " might 
 suffice to convince you that I also did not escape 
 scathless in the affray. But remember your child 
 was lost in Paris, not in London, and, therefore 
 if I might advise, it would be to seek her where 
 you lost her, that is to say in Paris." 
 
 Madame de St. Arnoul was about to speak, 
 but suddenly checking herself, she flung herself 
 at his feet instead, exclaiming : 
 
 " Oh, wherever she is, or whatever has be- 
 fallen her, will you not help me at all events to 
 seek her? Sir, by all your hopes of heaven and 
 earth, I beseech you to pardon and assist me. 
 Nay, I will not rise," she added, clinging to him 
 all the more desperately that he tried to release
 
 HOME AND 1UE HOMELESS. 305 
 
 himself from her grasp, "I will not rise, I will 
 cling to you till I die, if you do not promise to 
 assist me. Perhaps she is dead you will tell me, 
 but it is not her death I fear the most. No, 
 my God, my God ! it is a thousand times worse 
 to feel that she may be living yet among those 
 who will teach her evil. Mr. Sutherland, Mr. 
 Sutherland, can you not understand that it is 
 madness even to think of my innocent Rosalie, as 
 she was when I saw her last, and as she may be 
 when I behold her next." 
 
 " I hardly know why you should look to me 
 for pity, in such a case," he answered, and again 
 there was that peculiar inflexion in his voice, 
 which had made her pulse stand still before. 
 " You have reminded me before now of my do- 
 mestic troubles, and I marvel that you should 
 expect me to have sympathy with yours." 
 
 " Oh, it is for that very reason," she answered 
 with another irrepressible burst of anguish, " it 
 is for that very reason that I look to you so con- 
 fidently for it. You too have children — and you 
 know something of a parent's love — something of 
 the yearnings of a parent's bosom— something of
 
 306 ' HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 the way in which heart, and soul, and happiness, 
 and life itself, are all bound up in the well-being of 
 a child we dote on. Something you know, too," 
 she added after a moment's hesitation, " of our 
 feelings when they fail us — but oh, even you can- 
 n >t tell, because you are not a mother, and you 
 have no daughter, even you can never guess 
 the anguish with which I contemplate the possible 
 fate of Rosalie." 
 
 Her passionate accents actually filled the room 
 they sat in, and Mr. Sutherland grew pale; but 
 not from fear, or feeling for her. Very different 
 from the sentiment which she had intended to 
 produce, was that which now blanched his brow 
 and made his lip to quiver, as in hoarse accents 
 he exclaimed : 
 
 "Do I not know? do I not know? oh, woman, 
 woman ! does then a father care nothing for 
 his son — the being on whom he has set his hopes 
 — the creature for whom he has toiled incessantly 
 from youth to age, the one sole object of his 
 thoughts and aspirations. Do I not know? do 
 I not know? Have I not seen him plunge from 
 the pinnacle where I would have set him, to
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 307 
 
 become the associates of — of — oh, trust me, 
 woman, all the sighs and tears and hysterical 
 complaints of one of your weak-minded sex is 
 not equal to that one strong pang of agony, which 
 breaks a father's heart even while it forces him 
 to silence." 
 
 There was in truth an expression of agony 
 in his voice and eyes, as for a moment he glared 
 on her, that no power of language could possibly 
 have conveyed. Struck with remorse and shame 
 for the taunt she had once flung at him in her 
 passion, Madame de St Arnoul bowed her head 
 upon his hand exclaiming: 
 
 u Believe me, I never even dreamed of such a 
 sorrow, pardon me that I insulted it; I know it 
 was very wrong, very wicked — more fearfully 
 wicked even than I ever conceived it till this 
 moment." 
 
 " And in return for that fearful wrong," he 
 replied shaking her hand from him as he would 
 have done a reptile, "in return for that burning 
 wrong, that wanton insult, you would have me 
 try to save your child from the doom you made
 
 308 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 mockery of in mine. I know not the man who 
 would do it, Madame." 
 
 u None but a christian could," she answered 
 humbly, " and it is to you as a christian that I 
 appeal." 
 
 " And as a christian you shall be answered," 
 be replied, a sneer of mockery on his lip. cl Nay," 
 he continued, again withdrawing the hand which 
 she would have pressed rapturously to her lips, 
 " before you express any gratitude, it is fitting 
 we should understand one another, and I will be 
 very plain. Whatever I once thought of you, I 
 think that still; however I once hated you, I 
 hate you still; the insult you once flung upon 
 me rankles still, and the stain which I believe to 
 be on your life, never to my mind can be effaced 
 from thence. Nevertheless, whatever else you 
 are, you are the mother of that child and you 
 have lost her; and therefore, but for that reason 
 only, I cannot refuse my aid to find her ; though 
 mark me well, Madame, I give it to you neither 
 as a relation, nor yet a friend, but as a christian 
 only."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELKSS. 309 
 
 The cheek of Madame de St. Arnoul had 
 flushed to crimson and her eyes had been raised 
 in indignant denial many times before this cold 
 blooded speech was ended, but she did not other- 
 wise attempt to interrupt it. Even after he had 
 ceased to speak, ami the hard, cruel tones which 
 had pronounced with such supreme indifference, 
 on everything most sacred to her feelings as a 
 wife and a mother, no longer vibrated on her ear, 
 she stood rooted to the spot, repressing by a 
 strong effort her vehement desire to retort pas- 
 sionately upon her assailant. For though the 
 quivering lip was bitten till the blood came, and 
 the delicate fingers were twisted together until 
 it seemed as if they must infallibly have been 
 crushed, still the mother triumphed above the 
 woman; and conscious that she could hope for 
 his aid upon no other terms, Madame de St. 
 Aruoul stooped to accept it upon those he 
 offered. 
 
 " Sign this then," said Mr. Sutherland as soon 
 as she had expressed her readiness to obey him, 
 and pushed towards her a piece of paper on 
 which he had written a few lines.
 
 310 HOME AND THE HOMELESS, 
 
 Madame de St. Arnoul cast her eye across 
 them. 
 
 "No, sir," she cried, her passion once more 
 rising as she perceived their purport, " that is a 
 confession of my own disgrace which I do not 
 acknowledge and will never sign. I will put 
 my name to anything purporting to its being 
 your opinion" she added softening as she remem- 
 bered her lost child. " But not even to save 
 Rosalie will I consent to anything which would 
 make so foul a falsehood seem an avowal of my 
 own." 
 
 Mr. Sutherland took the paper, and by the 
 alteration of a few words, contrived to give it the 
 significance she preferred its bearing. Then 
 she wrote her name below with a hand so trem- 
 bling in passionate anger as to be almost ille- 
 gible. 
 
 " You must write it plainer," he observed, as 
 he looked over her shoulder, " no one on earth 
 could prove to such a signature as that is. Dip 
 your hand in that glass of cold water, if it 
 trembles, — and here is a better pen." 
 
 His victim received the pen in silence, and
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 3 1 1 
 
 refusing by a shake of the head the water 
 which he proffered, wrote her name once more ; 
 this time as it seemed with better success, for 
 Mr. Sutherland made no further objection, but 
 taking the paper from her, put it triumphantly 
 in his desk. He felt in fact that he had 
 achieved a double victory. If ever suspicion 
 should fall upon him for the loss of Rosalie, 
 that paper proving that he had been actually 
 engaged in her search would go far to clear him ; 
 but if, on the other hand, by any mischance, she 
 escaped him, an 1 he were forced as a last resource 
 to dispute her legitimacy, it would show at any 
 rate that Madame de St. Arnoul had accepted 
 his services at a time when he positively denied 
 her own right, and her child's to the name they 
 bore. 
 
 Nothing of this interior triumph, however, did 
 he allow to be visible on his countenance, as with 
 a greater manifestation of interest in the business 
 than he had hitherto thought proper to display, 
 he forced his unwilling guest to a chair beside 
 him, and went on : 
 
 " And now, Madame, I must reiterate my
 
 312 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 first opinion, that you are destroying every chance 
 of recovering your child by remaining here. It 
 really seems nothing short of madness to me if 
 you ever entertained an idea that I brought her 
 over with me ; you must surely, by this time, be 
 convinced that you were mistaken; for, on the 
 contrary, I am still something of an invalid from 
 the injuries I received in endeavouring to rescue 
 her. Yes," he added, observing that Madame 
 de St. Arnoul glanced slightly at his arm, " I 
 was thrown down in the crowd, and carried by 
 some compassionate persons to an hotel, where 
 I was three weeks a prisoner with a broken 
 arm." 
 
 " Were they sisters of charity who helped you ?" 
 cried Madame de St. Arnoul eagerly, as a mode 
 of discovering the truth of this story, flashed 
 suddenly across her mind. 
 
 A wicked gleam in Mr. Sutherland's eye 
 might have warned her, if she knew how to read 
 its language, that he was far too cunning to put 
 her in possession even of so slight a clue as this; 
 nevertheless he answered simply, and as if no 
 idea of her intention had crossed his mind;
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 313 
 
 " No, Madame ! My good Samaritans were of 
 the national guard, and as they never returned 
 to the hotel, I can only conjecture that they were 
 of the number of those appointed by the pro- 
 visional government to the duty of removing the 
 wounded — they took a list of whatever valuables 
 I had about me, and gave it, with the articles 
 themselves, into the care of my landlord, until 
 such a time as 1 should be capable of claiming 
 them for myself." 
 
 This story was very plausible in itself, and 
 still more plausibly related. If anything, per- 
 haps, it was a trifle too circumstantial; but this 
 was not likely to occur to Madame de St. Arnoul 
 at the moment, listening, as she did, in an agony of 
 tears. She could only acknowledge to herself 
 that the information upon which she had come to 
 England must have been erroneous, and her heart 
 died within her as she did so. If Mr. Sutherland 
 indeed spoke truth, where was her little Rosa 
 now? No wonder she shuddered visibly as that 
 gentleman resumed : — 
 
 u I quitted Paris as soon as I could crawl, for I 
 had not been able to comaiunicate with my family 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 314 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 in the meantime, and I knew how uneasy they 
 must have been about me. I confess," he added 
 with the air of one frankly acknowledging a fault, 
 " I did not again seek to find you. It was wrong 
 I know, but I had neither bodily strength or 
 influence; and, besides, the landlord of the hotel 
 where I was staying, assured me it would be 
 useless. If you had unfortunately perished, you 
 would, he said, have been already buried with 
 the other victims of the revolution, and if you 
 were living, still there could be no doubt of your 
 being in safety, as the provisional government 
 had fully succeeded in providing for the security 
 of all, whether native or alien who resided in the 
 city." 
 
 u Where, then is my Rosa, now?" murmured 
 the poor mother, laying her head upon the table, 
 as if utterly unable to bear up any longer against 
 a weight of evidence, which tended so strongly 
 to show that her child was still in Paris; and, 
 perhaps, the inhabitant of its most vicious places. 
 
 "Where is she?" repeated Mr. Sutherland, with 
 a good affectation of the energy of impatience. 
 " If she be yet alive, Madame, of course, she is
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 315 
 
 in Paris, and probably in the very quarter where 
 we lost her; a position full of danger for the 
 present, and evil for the future. Surely it is 
 needless to suggest to you that if you would find 
 her, you must go there to seek her. Nay, this duty 
 stares you in the face, and, fortunately, I can aid 
 you to accomplish it, for one of my correspondents 
 is a dear friend of the Minister of the Interior. 
 I will give you a letter to his address, and re- 
 quest him to procure you every assistance and 
 encouragement in his power." 
 
 This plan seemed so rational, and there was 
 so much apparent good faith in the way it was 
 suggested, that for a brief instant, Madame de 
 St. Arnoul believed; and lifting up her head, 
 eagerly exclaimed: 
 
 " Give me the letter, and I will go back at 
 once. I will do anything you bid me ! " 
 
 Mr. Sutherland instantly wrote a short note, 
 which he gave to her to read before folding into 
 an envelope. 
 
 u One question more," he added, as she placed 
 it in her reticule, " Madame has money for the 
 ourney?" 
 
 p 2
 
 316 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " If I had not," she answered, passion once 
 more getting the better of prudence, " If I had 
 not, I would beg my way to Paris, sooner than 
 take a farthing from one who has so dishonoured 
 me by his suspicions." 
 
 Mr. Sutherland only answered by a bow, and 
 the offer of an arm to lead her to her carriage. 
 
 " Remember," he added, as he pushed aside 
 his servants to put her into the cab himself, 
 u Remember your best chance is speed. There 
 is a train to Folkestone this afternoon. You can- 
 not do better than to start at once. Will you 
 do so; and where shall I tell him to drive to 
 now ? " 
 
 " I will," she answered. " But I must go 
 first to the Sabloniere to pack up my things." 
 
 " To the Sabloniere," he shouted, and closed 
 the door. 
 
 The unhappy mother sank back in an agony 
 of doubt and fear in the carriage, while he re- 
 turned to his study with a sense of wicked 
 triumph in his heart, such as even Mephistophiles 
 himself might have envied. 
 
 " Aye, go your ways, Madame," he muttered.
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 317 
 
 " You taunted me once with the misfortunes of 
 my household, go you now and sit desolate in 
 your own. Search if you will in the haunts of 
 iniquity where you child is no longer a stranger, 
 but a companion. Search, if you will, and find 
 her with oaths on her childish lips, and the germs 
 of intemperance in her young blue eyes : and if 
 in that hour of your mother's woe you remem- 
 ber the taunt you once flung on my boy, believe 
 (for you may) that Heaven has avenged it."
 
 318 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 On the morning that Madame de St. Arnoul 
 paid her visit to Mr. Sutherland, Evelyn 
 de Burghe was seated in the room in which we 
 first introduced her to our readers. Though 
 she appeared to be occupied with a book, her dark 
 eye glanced occasionally towards the door, in a 
 way that showed she was expecting some one. 
 She had some time to wait, however; but at last 
 Frank Montgomerie made his appearance, and 
 seating himself at the table, leaned his head upon 
 his hand disconsolately, and in silence. 
 
 " Well," asked Evelyn, after waiting a moment
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 319 
 
 or two, to see if he would speak. " Have you 
 been talking to Mr. Sutherland?" 
 
 " I have," was the curt reply. 
 
 " And what does he say ? Has he heard 
 nothing of Frederick? " 
 
 u He says not — and what's more, he won't 
 enquire." 
 
 " Won't enquire ! " 
 
 " By the police — the only real channel for 
 obtaining information. He shrinks from every 
 thing calculated to lead to the disgrace of public 
 exposure ; and to say truth I cannot blame him." 
 
 M Disgrace ! " repeated Evelyn, indignantly. 
 " Good God ! what is disgrace compared to the 
 ruin or rescue of this unhappy boy ? " 
 
 " Disgrace ! " repeated Frank, in a very dif- 
 ferent tone. " Disgrace, let me tell you, Evelyn, 
 is a bitter thing enough to bear at any time, but 
 most so when it falls on a father's name through 
 the misdeeds of his son." 
 
 "Bitter enough, God knows, Frank! I do 
 not want to say it is not; but still I cannot 
 weigh it with the chances of restoring poor Fred 
 to virtue."
 
 320 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 "Virtue! my dear Evelyn. He is beyond all 
 chance of that restoration now." 
 
 u Tou think so?" 
 
 " Nay, I am certain. Has he not given the 
 coloring to his life; and how shall we efface the 
 dye? Oh, Frederick, Frederick ! " he groaned, 
 rather speaking his own thoughts aloud than 
 addressing them to his companion, " Who could 
 have dreamed that with so much of noble in your 
 nature, you ever would have stooped so low?" 
 
 "And oh, Frank! Frank! " cried Evelyn in a 
 voice of ill-repressed impatience, " What else 
 could be expected from a boy who, with strong 
 passions, and brilliant talents, was left to grow up 
 without one such idea of the necessity of watch- 
 ing over his human nature, one such thought of 
 diffiding in his own human judgment, as only the 
 humility of religion can bestow?" 
 
 " For humility read baseness, and all is said," 
 Frank answered, with some asperity. " True, 
 Evelyn, I did not teach him that abject deference 
 for the opinions of any set of men, which you 
 call religion. I did not seek to terrify his mind 
 by threats of a judgment which exists only in
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 321 
 
 the dreams of women and young children, or try 
 to sway him to deeds of virtue by visions of a 
 future bliss, which I not only do not believe will 
 ever be their guerdon, but which, if it were, 
 would deprive them of all real grandeur by 
 making them originate in self. 1 did not do 
 all this indeed, because conscientiously I could 
 not; but all that a true and honest man could do, 
 I did. I set before him the beauty of the moral 
 law, and the sublime position of the man who 
 tramples upon his coarser passions to walk 
 steadily by its dictates ; and for this same reason 
 I cultivated his intellect to the utmost; hoping 
 thus to give him such a taste for higher things, 
 as would lift him from the lowest to the loftiest 
 aspirations of our nature." 
 
 " Or, in other words," responded Evelyn, with 
 spirit, u you tried to build a palace without the 
 trifling aid of a foundation, and sought to make 
 him moral, without that comprehension of the 
 necessity of morality which only the recognition 
 of an All-mighty lawgiver can bestow. You en- 
 deavoured to make him trample upon vice with- 
 out one of those strong motives for the effort 
 p 5
 
 322 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 which only such recognition of a law giver can 
 afford; and now, forsooth, you are astonished, 
 because the soul, which you left thus naked and 
 defenceless, has failed in the battle with its own 
 strong passions, and its innocence has suffered 
 shipwreck in the first great tide of temptation 
 that rolled over its path in life ! " 
 
 u And yet I gave him the training that I gave 
 myself," Frank answered, with a pride he was 
 quite unconscious he was betraying. 
 
 " And you would have me believe it was en- 
 tirely successful in that instance," Evelyn re- 
 plied, with a little archness in her still sad 
 smile. 
 
 u And don't you believe it, Evelyn?" 
 
 " Humph ! I must consider first," said Evelyn 
 with a wicked smile. u There is such a thing, 
 you know, as compounding — 
 
 ' For sins we are inclined to, 
 By damning those we have no mind to.' " 
 
 " What do you mean ?" Frank rather testily 
 enquired. 
 
 " I mean, that, though you neither drink nor
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 323 
 
 swear, being too temperate for the one, and too 
 well- bred for the other, nevertheless — " 
 
 " Wrong at the very outset," he interrupted 
 her triumphantly. " I had, when I was very 
 young, a pre-disposition to drink, not of course 
 for its own sake, but for the fun and frolic of 
 the thing; but no sooner did I perceive it, than I 
 made my resolution, and by one strong effort of 
 the will, fulfilled it. You know I never drink 
 anything but water now." 
 
 " Seasoned and made palatable by a strong 
 infusion of red hot pride," Evelyn laughingly 
 retorted. "But though pride may be your 
 ruling passion, and therefore sufficient to keep 
 the rest in check, other men's minds may be 
 differently constituted, and their pet passions 
 less amenable to the laws of propriety than 
 yours." 
 
 "It is not pride, Evelyn, but strength of 
 purpose that keeps me straight," he answered 
 with considerable hauteur. 
 
 "Be it so," said Evelyn; "'Arose by any 
 other name would smell as sweet.' Nevertheless, 
 this very pride, or strength of purpose, which
 
 324 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 ever you please to call it, that helps you to 
 reject all grosser forms of vice, is very apt to 
 originate another class of sin, not so revolting 
 perhaps to speak of, but quite as inimical as 
 your perfection." 
 
 " Indeed, fair saint! and may I enquire what 
 are these hidden dangers in my path?" 
 
 " Anger, hatred, implacability, revenge !" said 
 Evelyn, laughing, yet hesitating, as if she felt 
 she was treading upon tender ground. 
 
 " A goodly catalogue, truly," he answered, 
 with a laugh which was perhaps not quite 
 genuine. u Are there any other little items you 
 would like to add? You may as well do the 
 thing handsomely while you are about it." 
 
 " No," said Evelyn, affecting to consider. 
 u These will be the real rocks for you, and if 
 ever you find yourself among them, then I think 
 you will confess, (for if you are proud you are 
 candid also,) that this poor human nature which 
 we bear about us, needs higher aid in the hour 
 of temptation than any it can receive from a 
 mere intellectual perception of the beauty of the 
 moral law ; and stronger restraints than any ini-
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 325 
 
 posed by that very will, which will then be urging 
 it to evil." 
 
 "In other words," said Frank, "it needs, 
 you think, the fires of hell, and the golden gates 
 of paradise to deter it from the one path and 
 lure it to the other." 
 
 u In other words," said Evelyn, gravely, " it 
 needs that belief in a Higher Power — a Power 
 that having made the law, has clearly a right to 
 enforce it, which is the only motive strong 
 enough to keep human nature everywhere, and at 
 all times, in subjection." 
 
 There was a long pause ; and then half in doubt, 
 half in scorn, Frank said : 
 
 " Evelyn, you have sense and . sharpness 
 enough on most points; is it possible you really 
 believe all that trash about eternities, good or 
 bad, awaiting us in the distance?" 
 
 "Don't you, Frank?" 
 
 " Not I, indeed," he answered with one of 
 those bitter laughs which she hated to hear upon 
 his lips. u We are here : that is the only fact 
 we know, — the rest is mystery. Nevertheless, as 
 I do not admit of sin in the sense in which you
 
 326 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 define it, it follows that I regard its future pun- 
 ishment as a myth, which priests have made, that 
 they may rule us at their pleasure." 
 
 "But if sin is not sin, why do you turn from 
 it, Frank, and why do you pride yourself on doing 
 so?" 
 
 '• Because, Evelyn, the formation of my brain 
 inclines me to the intellectual, while in many 
 others it determines them to the animal." 
 
 " In that case we are no more responsible for 
 our actions than the animals themselves, and we 
 only falsify our nature when we endeavour to 
 make it reach a higher standard." 
 
 " On the contrary," said Frank, u as all animals 
 act according to the capacity of their brain, we 
 are never so true to ours, as when we endeavour 
 to attain to great things." 
 
 " And yet," said Evelyn, u if vice and virtue 
 are not facts, but mere ideas, how is it, Frank, 
 that we all are drawn so naturally to admire the 
 one, and dislike the other? and how is it that 
 your own cheek will flush, and your eyes fill up, 
 when you hear of a deed of more than ordinary 
 moral beauty ? "
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 327 
 
 tl I was not aware that eye and cheek of mine 
 were so susceptible," he answered laughingly. 
 
 " And yet they are ! " Evelyn earnestly re- 
 sponded. " Yesterday, for instance, when you 
 came upon that passage of Macauley's about St. 
 Francis Xavier." 
 
 u The language was magnificent," Frank rather 
 uneasily observed. 
 
 " Oh, do not say so," cried Evelyn. " It was 
 the character unfolded. I know you well, and I 
 am sure the most magnificent language ever 
 lavished on a mere parliamentary debate would 
 never have so stirred you, Frank." 
 
 u Well," he answered, laughing. u It was a 
 grand description of a grand character if you 
 will — and had he been educated in the nineteenth 
 century your Francis Xavier might have moved 
 the world." 
 
 " That is to say, of course," retorted Evelyn, 
 ff always supposing Francis Xavier had had the 
 good sense to square his ideas on those of Frank 
 Montgomerie." 
 
 " Just so," he answered, in a tone which for all
 
 328 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 its playfulness conveyed a full acceptance of the 
 proposition. 
 
 " And you think, then," said Evelyn, re- 
 proachfully, " that his life was really in vain. 
 His sacrifice of wealth, honor, talent, and ambi- 
 tion all for naught, and that the Apostle of the 
 Indies lived and labored, suffered and loved for — " 
 
 " An old wife's dream," Frank interrupted 
 her to say ; yet an expression of involuntary pain 
 crossed his features as he did so. 
 
 " And you think," she resumed, with a feel- 
 ing of sadness which found utterance even in her 
 voice, " you think there was no other world for 
 him who put aside this one so entirely to attain 
 it." 
 
 " Evelyn ! Evelyn !" cried Frank impatiently, 
 " there is no evidence. Who has ever come back 
 to tell us?" 
 
 " Frank ! Frank !" cried Evelyn, " is not the 
 evidence within us ? How is it we dream of 
 immortality if we are not immortal? Of eternity 
 if there is nothing better for us than time? 
 Surely, surely, the very possession of such ideas
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 329 
 
 proves the facts towards which they are directed : 
 for the finite never could have conceived the in- 
 finite, if that infinite did not really exist, and 
 had not, in some way, incomprehensible to us, 
 impressed its consciousness upon our souls." 
 
 " ' Incomprehensible to us !' you may well say 
 that, Evelyn. And yet your people lay down 
 the law about it, and tell us how this happened, 
 and how that fell out, as if they had been on the 
 spot to see it, and with a short-hand writer, 
 moreover, to send an account of it to the 
 Times" 
 
 " You are speaking of revelation now," re- 
 plied Evelyn. " And certainly it seems to me 
 that a God (if you admit one,) would make his 
 existence and intentions known to his creatures 
 by the easiest method possible, and that would 
 have been by revelation. Yet, even without 
 scripture, surely all things beautiful and good — 
 the free air, the bright sun, the glorious earth — 
 are revelations in themselves, and revelations of 
 a God-Creator too. The world is a great miracle 
 as it is, but it would be a greater still if there 
 had been no pre-existent power to make it so."
 
 330 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 Frank did not reply; for there was sometimes 
 a mournful music in Evelyn's thoughts which 
 jarred sadly on the settled convictions of his own 
 soul, and made him feel mournful also. 
 
 " We love all things good and beautiful and 
 true," she went on softly, finding that he would 
 not answer; u and we do not love them as a por- 
 tion of our nature, because our nature often 
 opposes itself to them ; but we love them, I 
 think, both as part of that which we ourselves 
 have lost by sin, and as an emanation of that 
 Divinity from whence we derive our being. 
 Therefore, almost intuitively, we look up to heaven 
 for the realization of that dream of perfection 
 which is the state of the blessed" there, and which 
 will crown us also in the next life if we struggle 
 for it in this one." 
 
 " All very good in its way, pretty and 
 poetical, no doubt; but still not argument, but 
 declamation." 
 
 u Surely there are convictions which need no 
 argument ?" 
 
 " Thank you ; but I prefer arguments which pro- 
 duce conviction. Where are you going, Evelyn?"
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. "31 
 
 u I don't know, — no where, — any where, — ■ 
 away from you, Frank. When you talk this 
 way you seem to wither up all my faculties, and 
 I shiver as if a moral frost were on me, — all the 
 noblest aspirations of our nature checked, and 
 the very winter of the human heart begun." 
 
 " Do I move you then?" Frank asked with a 
 smile of half triumph already on his lips; but 
 Evelyn checked it by another — and such a one. 
 Had Heaven opened before her gaze, that smile 
 could hardly have been more bright or more 
 undoubting ! 
 
 u Move me, Frank! No, indeed, you do not; 
 and after all, why should you wish it? Why 
 cast a blank on other minds ? Why seek with 
 that ghastly creed of yours (which makes you 
 miserable, though you will not own it) to carry 
 desolation into the midst of plenty ? " 
 
 " Why, Evelyn, why? Because it is high time 
 that mental power should go free, and vulgar 
 superstitions no longer rule the world." 
 
 "By superstition you mean faith I suppose?" 
 asked Evelyn. 
 
 u Call it what you will," he answered care-
 
 332 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 lessly. "You said just now yourself, that c a rose 
 by any other name, would smell as sweet;' and 
 superstition, by whatever other title you may 
 choose to style it, to my poor thinking, will be 
 superstition still." 
 
 " And call it what you will," cried Evelyn, 
 " the gift is so precious, that they who have it 
 may well hold it fast; while they who have it not 
 will be happy if they can sell all else to get it ! 
 Yes, God be thanked for that one great gift of 
 faith, which is the nursing mother of all the 
 highest aspirations and noblest deeds this world 
 can boast of! Oh, Frank ! you talk of equality 
 — you rave against the great when they trample 
 on the lowly — you recoil from a society divided 
 into classes, and yet you refuse the only doctrine 
 which gives equality to all, by teaching all, that 
 whatever they may be in time, in eternity their 
 places will be decided by their own actions. 
 Surely the trials of this life would be altogether 
 unendurable if faith did not whisper of that here- 
 after, which will justify every present dispensa- 
 tion of our God, and more than compensate for 
 all our sorrow."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 333 
 
 And again Frank wis silent — there was an 
 echo to her words within his bosom to which just 
 then he would not listen. 
 
 " And you will not believe in it; and yet my 
 G-od !" she said, earnestly clasping her hands to- 
 gether, " How could we live and smile, and do 
 our duty in this cold, hard world, without it? " 
 
 " I cannot," he said hastily. ;i I must have 
 proof, not feeling And after all, Evelyn, you 
 have only a geographical faith yourself, for with 
 such a brain as you have, you would have 
 thought quite different'}*, had you been born on 
 this side the British channel." 
 
 " Possibly," said Evelyn, coolly ; "but I am 
 certain I should not have remained half-way as 
 you have done." 
 
 ••What do you mean by that?" said he, un- 
 able to refrain from laughing. " Half-way, 
 indeed ! Why there you are at one end the beam 
 with your faith, and what on earth can you have 
 at the other end but me with my — " 
 
 " Sceptism," said Evelyn, seeing that he 
 hesitated to pronounce the word. "Nevertheless, 
 in one sense of the term, at least you are still
 
 334 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 half-way. You started with faith in a system 
 which a very slight investigation convinced you 
 to be a fallacy, and in searching for a better, fell 
 into that deep gulf, which often lies between the 
 true church and her substitute; since those who 
 once begin to doubt of anything, easily make up 
 their minds to disbelieve in all." 
 
 " A very Christian in the slough of despond," 
 he answered, with a careless laugh. u And pray 
 how would your wisdomship have attempted to 
 clear it?" 
 
 u You will laugh at me, I know, and yet I 
 must tell you. I would have put the question 
 to my own heart thus: 'If there be a super- 
 natural it cannot be grasped by the natural, 
 alone. If there be an order of things a hove 
 reason, it is not to be reached by reason only; 
 though it will be found on examination to be 
 never contrary to it." 
 
 " Aye," he replied, impatiently, " but that is 
 the very thing that I deny. This supernatural 
 order of things, with its invisible punishments 
 and delights hereafter." 
 
 " And yet, even while denying, surely it may
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 335 
 
 be well to question yourself about them. If there 
 be .an eternity — and, oh! Frank, think how 
 much there is in that one word ' if — if there be 
 an eternity, what a sentence do you pronounce 
 against yourself by thus dogmatically ignoring 
 it." 
 
 " And pray what would you do, if you were 
 me, — or, rather, if you were in my position ?" 
 Frank asked, half amused, half touched, by her 
 earnestness. 
 
 " I would seek the supernatural, as the super- 
 natural, if it exists at all, only can be discovered. 
 In other words, I would pray. If there be a 
 God, He must be sought, not by the intellect 
 only, but by the heart as well, for both must 
 have been His gift, and therefore both must have 
 been intended to be enlisted in His service. 
 Now, prayer is the natural language of the 
 human heart, especially in doubt and ganger, 
 the natural means provided for us that we 
 might soar beyond our nature, therefore, I 
 would pray; and, oh! Frank, above all other 
 things, I would be very humble. With such an 
 4 if before me, I would not rely too much on
 
 336 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 the fiat of my own limited human reason, but I 
 would stand in the presence of that possible 
 Being with exceeding reverence and awe. I 
 would pray often that He might reveal Himself 
 to me; I would say, c Thou, if thou art, have 
 pity upon me.' " 
 
 " A g )odly lesson truly. However, notwith- 
 standing your eloquence, Evelyn, I mean to make 
 no further investigation in this weary matter. I 
 love not to stir up muddy waters." 
 
 " Perhaps you have no great wish to make 
 them clearer," she answered with a sigh. 
 
 "Haven't I though," Frank hastily rejoined. 
 " Evelyn ! Evelyn ! I have searched until I was 
 wearied 5 and it was in the very bitterness of 
 despair that I said to myself at last, c there is no 
 God.' " 
 
 " And yet some day you will retract that 
 saying." 
 
 " Wonderful Sybil! when?" 
 
 M When some one whom your dearly love is 
 dying; when eyes that have ever sought you 
 fondly are closing, to gaze on you no more; when 
 lips that have ever named you tenderly are mur-
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 337 
 
 muring words you never may hear again in this 
 life; then, Frank, you will turn instinctively to 
 the hope that it is not for ever. But when at 
 last those eyes are closed in earnest, and those lips 
 are mute in death, then hope will be swallowed 
 up in faith, and you will believe. Yes, for you 
 will not be able to persuade yourself that the 
 sister with whom you have played in childhood, 
 or the mother on whose bosom your infancy was 
 pillowed, has been reserved for no higher destiny 
 than awaits the dumb animals around you, and 
 with your whole soul you will embrace the doctrine 
 of eternity, because you will feel that one too 
 precious for annihilation is enshrined within it." 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 338 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Evelyn waited not to hear Frank's rejoinder to 
 her prophecy; but leaving the library by a 
 matted passage into which the light came 
 streaming through windows of stained glass, 
 entered at once into the room beyond, with just 
 such a quiet adjustment of look and step as 
 indicated the presence of an invalid within. 
 This second sitting-room was fitted up with an 
 evident and graceful attention to all that could 
 soothe the imagination, and withdraw it from 
 the harsher and more distressing circumstances 
 of disease. A few scentless, but bright-hued 
 flowers mingled with fantastic fern and dark-
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 339 
 
 leaved myrtle were blooming on a stand near the 
 window, and in close companionship with these, a 
 canary-bird, his cage half covered by a white 
 veil of muslin, hopped stealthily from perch to 
 perch, whistling all the time in a sort of mezza 
 voce, as if afraid of disturbing the sleepy quiet 
 of the chamber. An awning before the open 
 window shut out the sun-beams while it suffered 
 the summer-like air of May to enter unrebuked, 
 bearing with it the rich odour of early mig- 
 nonette and the lemon-like scent of the lily of 
 the valley which grew in clusters amid the turf. 
 Near this window was a couch upon which 
 Wyllie was now reclining in such a position, as 
 to command a view of all that was fair within 
 the room, and without it. But even in that warm 
 atmosphere (genial as though the day had been 
 stolen from the month of June) an eider down 
 coverlet was disposed carefully about his person. 
 He had been very ill since we first introduced 
 him to our readers, and the traces of long 
 suffering were still visible on his person. His 
 very attitude told of the languor incidental to 
 illness. His hair grown longer in the interval, 
 Q2
 
 340 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 fell in heavy curls about his temples, while his 
 face, always fair and delicate to look on, was now 
 so much more fair and delicate than ever, and 
 wore so treacherous a flush besides, that it was 
 difficult to gaze upon him without suspecting 
 that disease was still busy among those bright 
 hues, and death but waiting for his victim. 
 The boy was sleeping when Evelyn first entered, 
 or, at any rate, his eyes were closed. She sat 
 down to wait for his awaking, with something 
 of that unconscious reverence in her manner 
 which we feel for those whose earthly career is 
 about to end, and whose souls, to our human 
 vision, seem half way to the joys of Heaven 
 already. But quietly as she sat or moved, and 
 never were softer movements or more soundless 
 footsteps in the chamber of the sick, than hers, 
 the boy opened his eyes directly. Even in sleep 
 his heart seemed always to warn him of the 
 presence of his sister. 
 
 "Hush," she whispered, laying her hand upon 
 his heavy eye-lids. " Go to sleep again, dear 
 boy, and I will wait till you are quite 
 awakened."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 34 L 
 
 " I wasn't asleep quite, Evy. I was only 
 dozing while I waited for you. But what's the 
 matter ; you look weary ? " 
 
 " Nothing, Wyllie," she answered with a smile. 
 " I have been talking to Frank, and he has 
 withered me, as he sometimes does, that's all : 
 so I have come here to be refreshed by you." 
 
 " Ah, you have come to a bad shop for that, 
 Evelyn, for I don't know how it is, but I seem 
 to grow more hot, and weary, myself every day I 
 live." 
 
 His sister laid her hand upon his head and 
 sighed. 
 
 u The poor head is hot indeed ! But still, 
 Wyllie, I do not feel withered with you as I do 
 with Frank, for bodily illness need not affect the 
 mind, and it only depends upon ourselves to 
 keep our souls so fresh and young, that even in 
 the midst of suffering, we can rejoice in all the 
 bright things the earth contains, and thank God 
 that he has made it fair." 
 
 " Yes, Evelyn. And yet do you know I was 
 just thinking before you came in that, for all its 
 beauty, this world would be but a wretched busi-
 
 342 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 ness without the idea of another. Just fancy, 
 for instance, what it would be to lay here as I 
 do all day long, if I thought, as Frank does, that 
 there was no brigher life beyond it." 
 
 " Yes/' said Evelyn, passing her hand thought- 
 fully across her brow. " That brighter life be- 
 yond is indeed all that you, or I, or any of us, 
 have to look to." 
 
 "All, Evelyn?" 
 
 " All/' she repeated, smiling, " Why do you 
 look so wondrous?" 
 
 st It is all that I have to look to, certainly," 
 he replied, " because I am next door to a poor 
 cripple, and shall be one altogether soon I 
 suppose. But you, Evelyn?" 
 
 " And what has Evelyn got to look to, so very, 
 very bright ?" she asked, with a half suppressed 
 sigh the while. 
 
 " I don't know exactly," replied Wyllie, a 
 little puzzled perhaps how to explain himself 
 correctly; " but you look so cheery and your 
 eyes are so full of light, that I always think of 
 sunshine the moment you come into the room." 
 
 " And what do you think of when I come in?"
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 343 
 
 cried a ringing voice from the garden; and 
 directly afterwards Lily skipped in through the 
 window, and seated herself on the couch at 
 Wyllie's feet. 
 
 " Of a bird in a cage," he answered promptly. 
 
 " You are quite right, Wyllie. And, oh ! it 
 is such a little, leetle cage," Lily responded with 
 a groan. 
 
 " And you are such a very, very enormous 
 bird," Evelyn added, smiling. 
 
 "lain too large for my cage, that is certain, 
 Evelyn, and so I spoil my feathers and endanger 
 my wings by beating and struggling against the 
 bars." 
 
 u And yet to me your cage seems like the 
 wide, wide world itself," said TTyllie, sighing in 
 his turn. " Perhaps you do look like a caged 
 bird when you are sitting by Aunt Montgomerie, 
 Lily, but when I watch you out there in the 
 garden, I always think you must feel like a 
 butterfly in the sunshine, and I cannot help 
 wishing sometimes — " 
 
 " What, good boy ? That you were a flower 
 for the butterfly to talk to, hey ?"
 
 344 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 "No, indeed," said Wyllie, laughing, "but 
 that / also were a butterfly, and could visit the 
 flowers as well." 
 
 " You would be like a very idle insect if you 
 had your wish then," observed Evelyn quietly; 
 M and grievous as it is to see you suffering, I 
 am afraid I should prefer your remaining as 
 you are, to see you leading such a useless life 
 as—" 
 
 M As Lily does," retorted the young girl with 
 an air of pique. u Thank you very much for 
 the compliment, Mrs. Evelyn." 
 
 " As the butterfly does, I was going to 
 say," she answered, laughing. " I cannot help 
 it, Lily, if you choose to put a personal con- 
 struction on my words." 
 
 " I know," said Wyllie sadly and meekly too, 
 11 that it is best for me to be as I am, because if 
 it were not, God would not have ordained it so; 
 but oh, Lily, it must be a wonderfully happy 
 thing for all that, to be able to run about, and 
 dance, and play all sorts of tricks as you do." 
 
 u Really, Master Wyllie, to hear you talk, one 
 would fancy I reminded you of a monkey instead
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 345 
 
 of a butterfly ; but I hope when your new doctor 
 comes, he will set you on your legs again, and 
 enable you to do all sorts of tricksies for yourself, 
 for with all due deference to your superior wis- 
 dom, I don't precisely see what particular good 
 you can derive from being stretched out like a 
 corpse all day long upon that sofa.'' 
 
 " Not my body, but my soul," said Wyllie 
 gravely, " perhaps God sends me this sickness for 
 the good of my soul." 
 
 Lily laughed outright. 
 
 " Oh, your soul, \Tyllie ; I declare I didn't 
 know you had one. Did you ever see it? and 
 what is it like now, that soul of yours, I wonder." 
 
 "Lily," said Evelyn gravely, ''I will not 
 have this conversation go on ; you know I impose 
 the same rule upon you as upon your brother. 
 There shall be no such discussions in this room 
 at least." 
 
 " I forgot; this is your kingdom. Frank and 
 my uncle take good care it shall be your only 
 one. But after all, Wyllie, what harm could 
 have happened to this soul of yours, if your little 
 legs had been able to carry it about, like the 
 Q 5
 
 346 HOME AND TUE IIOMELESS. 
 
 souls of other good boys, hopping and skipping all 
 over the country?" 
 
 "Perhaps no harm at all, perhaps a great 
 deal," said Wyllie simply : " if I had the free use 
 of my legs, to go where I liked, and do what I 
 liked, I might have grown up like, Frederick." 
 
 " Frederick is much obliged to you, Pm sure," 
 said Lily, her cheek flaming and her eyes flash- 
 ing; "but I don't myself quite see what harm it 
 would have done you if you had been like him." 
 
 " Frederick is a bad boy, Lily." 
 
 " Indeed, and pray who informed your worship 
 of that fact?" and Lily glanced indignantly at 
 Evelyn as she asked the question. 
 
 "He won't do what papa wants him, Lily." 
 
 " That is to say, he won't shut himself up in a 
 musty old counting house," retorted Lily, " and 
 who can blame him? The eagle was made for 
 the eyrie, and would break his neck against the 
 bars of such a cage as yours and mine, Master 
 Wyllie." 
 
 "But he's got into bad company too ; you know 
 he has, Lily, for I heard Frank saying something 
 about it to you and my aunt only yesterday."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 347 
 
 " It does not follow that he is bad company 
 himself, however. He was always generous 
 and disinterested, and I am quite sure that he is 
 so still." 
 
 " I am sure that he was," said Evelyn with a 
 heavy sigh ; " but it is difficult I fear to feel so 
 certain of what he may have become by this 
 time." 
 
 " You were always unkind to Frederick," 
 cried Lily angrily, " even when he was living 
 with us you were for ever finding fault with 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, Lily, how unjust you are !" cried Wyllie ; 
 " Evy never was, and never could be unkind to 
 Frederick or to any one else, if they were ever so 
 bad, I am certain." 
 
 " And I do not remember finding fault with 
 him quite so often as you seem to imagine," 
 Evelyn added gently; "indeed it was at all 
 times rather with his principles, or his lack of 
 them, that I quarrelled than with himself." 
 
 " Then you should abuse Frank, and not 
 Frederick, Evelyn. Franzie is answerable for 
 his principles, whatever they are."
 
 348 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 "What is that you say about Frank?" said 
 the gentleman in question opening the door, and 
 walking straight up to his young sister, with 
 unmistakable affection beaming from his eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Franzie ! Franzie ! I am so glad you are 
 come," cried Lily, springing up and drawing her 
 brother by both hands towards Wyllie's sofa. 
 " She is abusing Frederick, and it is so very 
 hard, when he is not here to defend himself." 
 
 " And where have you lived all your life, my 
 little sister," said Frank, half-bitterly, half-play- 
 fully, "not to have learned before now that the 
 absent are always in the wrong." 
 
 " The present, however, are far more so at this 
 moment. For you know, Frank — you know," 
 Evelyn repeated more emphatically, " that my 
 censure, if you like to call it so, was far more 
 directed to the root of the evil than to its branch 
 — to the teacher than to the taught." 
 
 " Evelyn you are horrid," cried Lily, putting 
 her arm round her brother's neck as if to defend 
 him from a blow. * You are as bad about 
 Frank, as you are about Frederick. You are 
 always abusing them both."
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 349 
 
 " Am I always abusing Frank? " said Evelyn, 
 fixing her eyes earnestly upon him. 
 
 "No, only Frank's teaching," he answered 
 with a good humoured laugh. " There is not 
 fire and faggot enough in it for your fancy, I 
 suppose? " 
 
 u I have no fancy for fire and faggot. Frank, nor 
 any faith in the efficacy of their teaching either." 
 
 a For my part I have faith in nothing," said 
 Lily, with a sort of off-hand liberality that sat 
 strangely enough upon the young girl of fifteen. 
 " It narrows the mind and makes it dance in 
 fetters, as Franzie says ; and I don't see the dif- 
 ference either, or w r hy people should not be 
 left to themselves to believe just as much, or as 
 little as ever they please." 
 
 "Why?" repeated Evelyn. "For the simple 
 reason, Lily, that this just as much, or as little 
 as ever they please, involves a question of truth ; 
 and truth is, or ought to be a gem worth seeking 
 at all hazards," 
 
 " Yet there are very good people of all re- 
 ligions, and of none," said Lily. " So after all, 
 what can it signify? "
 
 350 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " Oh, Lily ! Do you really mean that it does 
 not signify whether your religion is true or 
 false?" cried Wyllie. 
 
 " Because only one out of the many that you 
 speak of can be true remember! " added 
 Evelyn. 
 
 " All religions are mere forms," Lily flippantly- 
 replied. " And so long as we are true to our- 
 selves, and our moral instincts, there is no need 
 to trouble about the exernal mode in which we 
 give expression to such feelings." 
 
 " As if our instincts were of necessity always 
 moral," groaned Evelyn. " Oh, Frank ! Frank ! 
 what may you not have to answer for some day 
 for such teaching ! " 
 
 But either Frank did not heed, or did not hear 
 her; he was looking with such a loving admira- 
 tion on his child-like pretty > little, fairy sister. 
 
 " Who is that yonder? " cried the latter sud- 
 denly. " I am sure I saw some one moving 
 among the bushes ! " 
 
 " Perhaps one of the gardeners," suggested 
 Evelyn. 
 
 u Or -the cress- girl?" Wyllie added in the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 351 
 
 same breath; but without paying the smallest 
 attention to either of them, Lily darted through 
 the window and was out of sight in a moment. 
 
 Evelyn profited by her absence to say re- 
 proachfully to Frank : 
 
 " How can you encourage your little sister to 
 talk such nonsense?" 
 
 " Nonsense ! " he cried, " More sense than you 
 talk in a twelvemonth, Evelyn. Lily is my own 
 especial little pupil, and I am very proud of her, 
 I can tell you." 
 
 u One of your especial pupils has not turned 
 out so marvellously well that you need boast of 
 another, Frank ; and besides, Lily does not really 
 take in one third of your real meaning, but 
 merely repeats your words like a parrot, with a 
 few little poetical embellishments of her own." 
 
 11 She is no worse than other women in that 
 respect," he retorted; " the best of them are but 
 parrots, with just as much tongue, and as little 
 brains withal, to regulate its movements." 
 
 u All the more reason for not unsettling the 
 little that we have then, especially if it is to be 
 the sole guide of our lives, according to your
 
 352 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 theory," Evelyn answered good humouredly, but 
 raising her eyes at the same time to his, with a 
 look so thoughtful and full of soul, that he felt 
 himself rebuked for hie idle witticism beneath 
 it. 
 
 si Lily has sense enough to see that religion 
 and the moral law are quite distinct and separate 
 things," he observed rather apologetically ; " the 
 one being imposed upon us by priestcraft, the 
 other being the spontaneous growth of our brain. 
 So long, therefore, as she rules her conduct by 
 the latter, there is no earthly reason that I can 
 see, why her mind should be trammeled by the 
 former." 
 
 " Well, Frank," said Evelyn sadly, " I only 
 hope you will not one day have cause to repent 
 the distinction (fatal to my poor thinking), which 
 you have established between the two, in Lily's 
 mind, but — " 
 
 " But what?" asked Frank, seeing that she 
 paused. 
 
 Ere the question could be answered, however, 
 Lily re appeared at the window, looking so pale 
 and discomposed, that Evelyn involuntarily ut-
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 353 
 
 tered an exclamation, while Frank drew forward a 
 chair, into which his sister flung herself, saying, 
 at the same time, by way of explanation : 
 
 " It's nothing, nothing at all, only I ran too 
 fast!" 
 
 "After the cress girl?" asked Wyllie. 
 
 u No, no," she answered, speaking with diffi- 
 culty and through whitened lips, " there was no 
 one there !" 
 
 u No one!" repeated Evelyn, a little incredu- 
 lously. 
 
 u No one," persisted Lily, the crimson blood 
 mounting to her temples as she said it. 
 
 " I am quite positive I did see some one be- 
 hind that clump of laurel," said Frank, looking 
 at his sister with some astonisnment, as her cheek 
 changed rapidly from white to red, and from 
 red back again to a deadly paleness. 
 
 " There was no one, Frank." 
 
 " What have you got in your hand?" asked 
 'Wyllie, spying something white, crushed and 
 crumpled beneath her trembling fingers. 
 
 "Nothing; — only a scrap of paper," and Lily 
 tore it nervously to pieces.
 
 354 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " Well, you will believe in ghosts for the 
 future," said Evelyn laughing, " for if you have 
 seen nothing human, you have certainly (judging 
 from your looks at least), had an interview with 
 a spirit." 
 
 " And received a ghostly epistle from his 
 ghostship into the bargain," laughed Wyllie, 
 pointing to the particularly minute pieces into 
 which Lily had by this time dissected the paper. 
 
 " By the way, talking of letters," cried Lily, 
 evidently happy to have an excuse for changing 
 the subject; "have you had a letter from Dr. 
 Spenser yet; and when is he thinking of paying 
 you a visit?" 
 
 " I had a letter yesterday, and he will be here 
 this afternoon." 
 
 " Ah, happy you," sighed Lily, " you can get 
 your letters on Sundays. When mamma found 
 out that Parkes sometimes managed to smuggle 
 in mine, she desired the postman not to deliver 
 them till Monday, so now I have the pleasure of 
 seeing him walk off with them on the very day 
 one wants them most. Do you know, Evelyn, I 
 am thinking of getting them sent under cover
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 355 
 
 to you, and of laying an embargo on all my 
 friends to write me gossiping letters every Sunday, 
 as a set off against the large amount of Scrip- 
 tural lore I am always condemned to swallow on 
 that day." 
 
 " Better not, Lily, for I must tell you before 
 hand that I will not give them to you till 
 Monday." 
 
 " Why not?" cried the disappointed Lily. 
 " It is very cross in you, Evelyn, for you don't 
 think it a bit wrong, or you would not do it 
 yourself, I know." 
 
 "Certainly I don't, Lily; but I am my own 
 mistress to act as I please, while such a course 
 would involve you in an endless system of false- 
 hood and deceit. There are other command- 
 ments far more likely to be broken by such an 
 arrangement than that one, my little cousin, 
 and I think we bad best say no more about it, 
 don't you ?" 
 
 " Indeed I don't think any such thing, Evelyn ; 
 on the contrary, I think it is very selfish in you 
 to deny me a pleasure you take good care to in- 
 dulge in yourself."
 
 356 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 " Another time perhaps you will see it in a 
 different light, dear Lily," Evelyn was beginning 
 kindly ; but Lily had again walked through the 
 window, and was out of sight in a moment. 
 
 " I think you are too hard upon Lily," said 
 Frank, ever ready to take up the cudgels for his 
 little sister. " Sunday is a very weary day for 
 her, and I often wonder she does not rebel out- 
 right." 
 
 " My dear Frank, I am very sorry for your 
 sister, and it is sad indeed to see the day which 
 should bring peace to the soul as well as quiet 
 to the'body, made irksome and distasteful by the 
 regulations of an unwise zeal. Still, I am sure 
 you will agree with me that any amount of wea- 
 riness is better to be endured, than the risk of 
 training so young a mind into habits of deceit." 
 
 " Of course, certainly," repeated Frank; "but I 
 was thinking when I spoke of your general tone 
 towards Lily. It always seems to me as if in 
 your own mind you judged her harshly." 
 
 " I hope I do not, Frank, for I am sure I love 
 her dearly. Yet, if you urge me, I must say that 
 the tone of free-thinking declamation in which
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 357 
 
 you encourage her to indulge, does jar very pain- 
 fully on my feelings ; not the matter only, but the 
 manner also, which seems so unsuited to the 
 modesty of a young girl." 
 
 u That is all along of your poetical imagina- 
 tion," Frank answered the more impatiently, 
 perhaps, that his own heart whispered there were 
 some grounds for the reproach. 
 
 " No, Frank," said Evelyn, earnestly. " It is 
 not poetry, but a sacred truth I tell you. When 
 once you have destroyed her reverence for higher 
 things by accustoming her to theorize upon 
 them at pleasure, you have also destroyed that 
 innate modesty of nature which, teaching her to 
 watch over her secret thoughts quite as carefully 
 as her exterior actions, is to the mind of the 
 young girl what its bloom is to the grape — a 
 charm as easily brushed off, and as impossible to 
 replace." 
 
 " Bloom on the grape ! innate modesty of na- 
 ture ! reverence for higher things !" cried Frank, 
 ironically. " Really, Evelyn, you must excuse 
 me, but if you are not conscious that you are 
 talking poetry now, it can only be because like
 
 358 HOME AND THE HOMELESS. 
 
 the man who talked prose in the play, you ha\e 
 been doing it all your life without knowing it. 
 However, I cannot stay to argue it out with you, 
 for I have letters to write for the post, so you 
 and Lily must settle it the best way you can 
 between you." 
 
 Frank left the room as he finished speaking. 
 Nevertheless, though he affected to treat the 
 matter lightly, there was something in his own 
 soul which responded to Evelyn's objections, and 
 at times, even made him tremble, lest his teaching 
 might one day prove as fatal to Lily, as it had 
 done before to Frederick. For it had happened 
 to him more than once to feel already that when 
 ever his sister and Evelyn were brought more 
 particularly in contact with each other, the latter 
 showed to the most advantage. His was a 
 nature to appreciate the wide difference between 
 her earnest love of truth and the daring hap- 
 hazard of Lily's random speech ; and, moreover, 
 he could not help acknowledging to himself that 
 his young sister's tone of thought occasionally 
 degenerated into something of unwomanly bold- 
 ness, while that of Evelyn never out-stepped the
 
 HOME AND THE HOMELESS 359 
 
 modesty which he himself loved heartily as the 
 best attribute of woman; albeit, he chose to 
 ignore the source from whence it was derived 
 most surely, in the restraint which religion puts 
 almost unconsciously to herself upon her. 
 
 With such a lurking consciousness in his 
 mind, Evelyn's observations disturbed him, 
 long after she herself had forgotten that she had 
 made it. Unfortunately, however, he would not 
 argue even with himself about it — purposely he 
 turned his thoughts another way — purposely he 
 closed his eyes — Lily was his sister — his pupil — 
 his cherished darling — the echo besides of his own 
 pet opinions ; and so he closed his eyes. He would 
 not blame her or reprove her — he could not with- 
 out being in contradiction to himself. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 T. C. Newby, Printer, 30, Welbeck-street, Cavendish- square.
 
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