"It is a shame to have such a little bit of walk with you, mother," grumbled Selina. "You must have stopped a tiny while with Fanny. I'll ask her when she comes home why she didn't keep you a long long time."
"We shouldn't have liked that," said Minnie, clasping her mother's hand tighter as she spoke. "I think it was kind of Fanny not to keep mother away from us, for fear we should be waiting for her."
Mrs. Brown let them talk on until they reached the corner where their roads parted, and then she bade the two girls go home quickly, while she walked onwards to see their teacher. She felt in her pocket to make sure that she had got her precious letter from the seaside, for she had no doubt that Selina had been chattering at school about this, and Miss Martin wanted to see it for herself, and hear exactly what had been said. But to her surprise, Miss Martin said no word about the letter that was so important to Mrs. Brown.
"I want to have a few words with you about poor Jessie Collins," she said, as soon as her visitor was seated. "I have heard from Polly what a good friend you have been to them ever since her mother was taken ill, and I want to know whether we can help the poor girls in any way. You see, they are rather difficult people to deal with, and the Vicar being away from home makes matters rather worse, for Collins being such a strange, independent sort of man, Mr. Nye, our curate, might give offence if he called upon him just now."
"He might; there is no telling," said Mrs. Brown. "But the poor girls are in need of any help that a friend can give them."
"Yes, I thought that would be the case, and I think Jessie Collins is not so hopelessly naughty as people have thought her," said Miss Martin.
"Naughty!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown. "People have made a great mistake about Jessie Collins. Of course she was rude and rough from being allowed to run the streets as she has; but underneath this she is a kind-hearted, unselfish girl, and as willing to learn anything I could teach her that would help her mother as my own girls would have been," said Mrs. Brown, warmly.
"I am very glad to hear this," said Miss Martin, "I always liked Jessie, although she was far from being a pattern girl. Still, she was always ready to help anybody in trouble, whether it was a friend of hers or not, and I wondered whether there was anything I could do for them. I have a left-off black dress I could give her, if you think they will not be offended."
"Oh no; I am sure Jessie will be pleased to receive it from you, she has told me about the last talk you had with her, and that you expected her to be a credit to the school, which she is now, I can assure you, for her loving, self-denying care of her mother would be an honour and credit to any girl, though the world may never hear of it. Her father is learning to know her value too, and I hope she may help him to overcome the love of the drink that has taken hold of him lately."
"Yes, I have heard he has been very unsteady," said the teacher, "and this, of course, has made things worse for them at home."
"Yes, it has, and Collins was always such a steady man that people are the more surprised," said Mrs. Brown. "For years and years the poor man has had a miserable home, but he has made the best of it, and never grumbled to the neighbours, though everybody has known for the last year that Mrs. Collins drank more than was good for her, and either could not or would not try to make home comfortable for her husband and children. Things have been going from bad to worse lately, for he lost heart, and took to drink, too, and since her mother's illness the whole burden of keeping the home together has fallen upon Jessie, and every penny Collins can get from his club will be swallowed up in funeral expenses and paying some of the rent that is owing. I said at first the girls might be able to have a new black frock each, but I learned afterwards that it would have to go to the landlord; and so you may be sure how grateful Jessie will be when she hears of your gift."
"Ay, and what of yours?" suddenly asked Miss Martin. "Polly told me this morning that you had given them all the money you had."
"Not given," interposed Mrs. Brown, "only lent until the club money is paid."
"And this must be at a good deal of inconvenience to yourself," said the teacher, quickly, "and so I want you to let me share in this loan. You lent them a pound, let me lend you ten shillings until Collins can repay you."
Mrs. Brown coloured, but a smile of relief slowly beamed in her face, as she said slowly—
"Oh, ma'am, it's just as though God knew what I wanted, and told you, too. I shall be so grateful if you would lend me ten shillings until Collins gets his money, or until my husband comes home on Saturday."
"Certainly, you shall have it," said Miss Martin. And as she spoke she placed half a sovereign in Mrs. Brown's hand, who was truly thankful for this timely help.
Then she told the teacher of the letter received from Mrs. Parsons concerning Eliza, and the two could rejoice together that the girl was likely to do so well.
Before she went, Miss Martin gave her the black dress for Jessie, and promised to try and get some further help for the girls from a friend, and with this hope to give Jessie Mrs. Brown hurried homewards.
"WELL, I declare! Who'd have thought of seeing you here?"
"I didn't expect to see you," replied Fanny to her new friend, Miriam Jarvis. They had stepped from different train-cars at the terminus a mile or two from where they lived, and came face to face with each other as they were crossing the road. Neither looked very pleased to see the other, and they strolled along side by side in an aimless fashion, until Fanny suddenly said, "Can you tell me where Spring Grove is?"
"Spring Grove?" repeated her friend, looking hard at Fanny. "It is the place I have come to find. Have you come about a watch?" she added quickly.
Both girls reddened as the question was asked.
"Yes, I have," said Fanny. "I believe they have cheated me, and am going to take my watch back."
"They won't give you the money back," interrupted Miriam. "I tried it when the man came for the last month's money, but I am going to tell them that I can't pay any more, and see what Judds himself says about it."
"I can't pay either, and get other things that I want. It don't sound much, perhaps, but three shillings off of every month's money isn't so little as it seems when you have to buy shoes and stockings and caps and aprons, and a new dress every now and then," said Fanny, in a complaining tone.
"That's just it," answered the other. "You and I both want new Sunday frocks, and I mean to have one, too, for my cousin, where we went to tea last Sunday, says mine is getting very shabby."
"And I know mine is," answered Fanny, in an aggrieved tone, "for my mother gave the frock my aunt sent for me to my little sister."
"What a shame!" exclaimed Miriam. "I do call that mean."
"Yes. Mother seems to think I have more money than I can spend because I get ten shillings a month."
"Does she know about your watch?" asked her friend.
"She knows I have got it, for I wore it the first holiday I went home after I had it; but she doesn't know I have got to pay such a lot for it. She thinks the first ten shillings bought it, and she made a fine fuss about that, I can tell you. Said I knew nothing about buying a watch."
"Well, I suppose we don't, and Judds know it," admitted Miriam.
"Well, that may be; but we don't like to be told of it as if we were babies, and that's what my mother did, and I shan't forget it either," exclaimed Fanny, in an angry tone.
They walked and talked over their grievance concerning the watches until they saw the name of the road they were in search of, and then it was arranged between them that Fanny should go first, as they thought it might not be wise for them to go together on this errand.
She found that "Judds" was a small shop, but it seemed to be well stocked with very glittering jewellery besides watches, and she marched boldly up to the counter and laid her watch down before a little man, who was looking over some watches he had just unpacked.
"If you please, sir, I find I cannot afford to pay for my watch, and so I have brought it back, and—"
"You should have thought of that before you bought the watch. We never take them back," said the man, curtly; and he went on with his work at the little box before him.
"But I tell you I cannot afford to pay for it," said Fanny, pushing the watch a little further across the counter. He took no notice, but went on with his work as though he had the shop to himself.
After waiting a minute or two, Fanny said, "You must take the watch back and give me the money I have paid for it. I gave the woman ten shillings when she brought it, and I have paid two months since, which makes sixteen shillings."
Fanny stopped talking, hoping the man would lay the money on the counter when he had done with the box he was busy over. But he seemed wholly absorbed in his task for some minutes, and when at last he did look up and saw Fanny, he immediately pushed her watch towards her again and said—
"It is of no use standing there. I tell you we don't do business in that fashion. You have got a good watch, and you must pay the price agreed upon for it."
"But I can't," said Fanny, almost in tears now. "My mistress makes me pay for all I break, and will have me wear—"
"I have nothing to do with your mistress and what she does," interrupted the man. "You have bought a watch, and you must pay for it, and our collector will call in the course of the week; or, if it will be more convenient, I will tell him to postpone calling until next week, but it must not go beyond that time," he added.
"I can't pay it," said Fanny, with a gasp, picking up her watch as she spoke, and fairly bursting into tears as she went out of the shop.
As she expected, she met her friend Miriam outside, and one glance at Fanny's tearful face was enough to tell her that her errand had failed. But she was not to be daunted.
"I'll give him a piece of my mind if he doesn't take my watch back," she exclaimed. "Wait for me, Fanny," she added, and she walked into the shop.
"This watch isn't a good one," she said, laying it down on the counter as Fanny had done.
"Why, what's the matter with it?" asked the man. "It keeps good time, don't it?"
"No, it doesn't; and it isn't worth the money you ask for it," added Miriam, boldly.
"But you saw it before you signed the agreement to pay the price we asked?" said the man. "We instruct our agents to let every lady examine the watches before she is asked to buy."
He spoke quite calmly, while his very coolness seemed to make Miriam more angry.
"Oh yes. The woman puts a watch into our hands and tells all sorts of lies about it being a better watch than any other that could be bought, and that she only asks us to pay ten shillings down and we can have the watch to wear at once. I wish I had never seen her or the watch either."
"But you saw it and signed the agreement at the same time," said the man, mildly.
"Yes, I did; but, of course, I thought the ten shillings I had paid would be taken off the price of the watch—the two pounds—and weeks after that has been paid, you send a notice to tell us we are not to pay any money to the agent who delivers the watch. What do you call that but cheating?"
"There is nothing in the agreement about the fee paid to the first agent being taken off the price of the watch. It is a very carefully drawn agreement," added the man.
"I dare say it is," retorted Miriam. "You've had it made so as to squeeze money out of poor servant girls; but you won't get any more out of me, I can tell you. If you don't take this watch back, and hand me the money I have paid for it, I shall keep it, but not another farthing will I pay for it."
"Oh, we have means to enforce our rights!" said the man, calmly. "One visit from our inspector will be sufficient, he will let you know what to expect if the money is not paid at once to him: however, we are not in the habit of unduly pressing our customers, and so I will tell our collector to defer his visit for a week, so as to give you a little more time," said the man, soothingly.
"Then you won't take the watch back and give me the money I have paid for it?" said Miriam, sharply.
"No, indeed, we cannot do that, miss," replied the man. "You have had the watch three months now—"
"But I have only worn it twice," said the girl. "It has been locked up in my box all the time, and is as good as if it had been in your shop," she added.
But the man still shook his head. "We cannot do business that way," he said.
"Give me back the ten shillings I paid the woman, and keep the watch," she said, pushing it towards him.
But he was not to be moved. "We never return money under any circumstances," he said.
"Very well, you'll never have a farthing more of mine. You may send the police as much as you like, and I'll tell the magistrate how you cheat poor servant girls;" and snatching up her watch, Miriam walked out of the shop, not tearful, like Fanny was, but angry and defiant.
"What have they told you?" asked Fanny, anxiously.
"Just what they told you, I suppose." Miriam could scarcely speak civilly even to her friend, she was so angry.
"It is a shame," said Fanny, the tears filling her eyes again.
"They are cheats and swindlers, and they shan't have another farthing of me. No, not even if they send a policeman, as the fellow says he will," declared Miriam.
At the sound of the word "policeman" Fanny shivered.
"Do you think he would do that?" she asked.
"Oh, there's no telling—he might; but if he does he must. I won't pay him any more money, I know," said Miriam.
The two girls walked on together in silence for a few minutes, and then Miriam said—
"Have you thought of what you would like for a new frock? The summer is getting on now, so it won't do to have anything too light."
"I'm not likely to get a new frock of any sort, light or dark," replied Fanny, in a grumbling tone.
"But you must," said her friend. "The one you wore on Sunday is getting too short for you, and the body is too tight. Oh, you must have a new one," concluded Miriam, in a decided tone.
"Mother ought to have let me have the one auntie sent," grumbled Fanny.
"It's no good crying over spilt milk," said Miriam. "The thing is just this. I want a new frock, and so do you, and if we could make up our minds to have them alike, my cousin could let us have them cheap."
"Your cousin?" repeated Fanny, with widely opened eyes.
"La, how you look!" laughed Miriam. She had forgotten all her anger and anxiety about the watch now, and was only anxious to arrange matters with Fanny so that she might call upon her cousin as she went home and ask her to get some patterns of dresses before the next Sunday, that she and Fanny might choose one.
"How is it your cousin can buy dresses so cheap?" asked Fanny.
"Because her husband is in the trade. He is at one of the biggest shops in the town. And my cousin being a dressmaker, she can get lining and everything cheap, so that she could make up your dress for very little more than it would cost you to buy the stuff."
"Would she do it for me as well as for you?" asked Fanny.
"I dare say she would, as you are my friend. And if we could settle between ourselves what we would like, she could, perhaps, get it cheap, if we had them both alike."
"Oh, I should like that," said Fanny, "if you would."
"Yes, I should, if we could think alike about it. We should not be able to have light dresses now, because the summer will soon be over; so I will tell her to get some patterns of dark stuff, that we could wear in the winter, perhaps, as well as just now."
"Yes, that would do," said Fanny, approvingly. "But the dress must not cost too much, because of that watch. Oh, I do wish they would take it back," she added, with a sigh.
"Oh, bother the watch! Do let us forget it for a little while; we have had enough of it for one day."
"I wish I could forget it altogether, for I have had very little pleasure out of it," said Fanny.
"Don't go talking to my cousin like that about it. I have never told her a word about mine; and I don't want her to know of it just now, so mind you don't say a word," added Miriam.
"Have you told your mother and father?" asked Fanny.
"Oh no! How could I? They live fifty miles away in the country. My cousin got me my place, and the Vicar wrote to recommend me; and I should not like to let them know at home that I have been cheated over this watch. But I feel sure Judds have cheated us both," she added in a more serious tone.
"Do you really think they have?" asked Fanny. "The woman told me when I bought mine that the price of watches was going up through so many men going to the war that very soon there would not be a good watch left, they were being sold so fast."
"I don't believe it," said Miriam, laughing. "They'll say anything to get you to buy their watches. But, now, mind, not a word to my cousin about this, or it's very likely my father will say I am not fit to be away from home by myself. Now, what colour do you like for a dress?" suddenly asked Miriam, determined to forget all disagreeable subjects if she could.
"I had a brown frock last time, and I liked that a good deal better than the one I have got now."
"Very well, we'll ask my cousin to get a brown among the patterns, though I am not sure that I shall like such a dull colour. What time have you got to go in?" she suddenly asked.
"Oh, it is my afternoon out," said Fanny, "so that if I get in by six o'clock, it will do. My mistress has her tea half an hour later when it is my turn to go out," explained Fanny.
"I generally go in the evening; but as I wanted to go to that place to-day, I thought I had better go while it was light. We shall have time to call at my cousin's and tell her to get the patterns for us," concluded Miriam, as they reached the tram terminus where they met earlier in the afternoon.
They would ride the next mile, and then, in the ordinary way, their roads separated; but as they went it was arranged that they should go together to see Miriam's cousin, and explain just what they wanted for a new dress, and also to inquire what the probable cost would be, and whether they would have to save up their money before buying the dress, or whether they could order it as soon as they had chosen the pattern, and pay for it in monthly instalments.
"We could pay four or five shillings out of our wages every month, and not miss it," said Miriam.
Fanny had thought the same thing when the woman was persuading her to buy the watch, but she was not so sure about it now. Still, she could see her friend's cousin and hear what she said, and decide what she would do afterwards.
So, as soon as they left the tramcar, they hurried to Mrs. Scott's, and told her what they had been talking about—that they both wanted new best dresses now; and they would like to know what it would cost to make them each a dress that they could wear at once, or even in the winter with an extra petticoat.
"Mother says I have not done growing yet," explained Fanny, "and so it will not do to have a frock to put away."
"No, indeed; and there is no occasion for it," said Mrs. Scott. "You can have a nice neat material, suitable for any season. Now, about the price. It must, of course, depend upon what you girls can afford, in the first place. Could you afford to pay twenty-five shillings for a dress, both of you? Of course, it will be made and everything found for that money."
Fanny shook her head at once, for the sum to her seemed enormous.
Miriam laid her hand on her arm. "Look here," she said, "my cousin would not want you to pay all that at once, she told you. How much should we have to pay a month for a dress like that?" asked Miriam.
"Well, that would depend upon the material you chose. You see, it is all in the way of business," she said, turning and speaking more directly to Fanny. "If I have to give credit, I have to charge for it, and the longer I have to wait for my money, the more I must charge for the dress. You understand what I mean," she added, looking at the two girls.
Miriam looked vexed that her cousin spoke so plainly, for she was afraid Fanny would not venture to order a new dress just now.
"But you could give us a little credit, Cousin Madge, without charging for it," she said.
"Well, it would depend upon what you called a little," said Mrs. Scott. "I suppose you have both saved something towards the new dresses, and the next month's money, we'll say, pays a little more than half what the dress is to cost. Now, if you can pay half when you take the dress home, and the second half a month later, then I should charge you very little indeed for that month's credit; but if I had to take the whole amount in monthly instalments of a few shillings a month, then I should have to charge a good deal more for the dresses. Now, think the matter over between now and Sunday, and make up your mind what you can afford to pay, and how you can pay it. John will bring me some patterns and prices from the shop on Friday, and I shall be ready to tell you what I can do when you get out on Sunday."
"We shan't be able to come to tea," said Miriam.
"Well, you can come in as you go to church, if you like; I don't mind," said Mrs. Scott.
"I wish we didn't have to go about it on Sunday," said Fanny, as they were on their way home.
"Oh, what does it matter?" said Miriam, crossly.
"Well, my mother and father wouldn't like me to go about a new frock on Sunday!" said Fanny. "And it will vex them, I know, when they hear about it."
"Then they shouldn't have given the other to your sister, as you say they did. I would do it on purpose to serve them out," concluded Miriam, a view of the matter that seemed to commend itself to Fanny; for she laughed, and promised to meet her friend at the corner of the street where Mrs. Scott lived at six o'clock the following Sunday evening.
"THERE'S a letter for you, Fanny, on the kitchen table. When you have read it, I want you to go out again and fetch some cakes and biscuits for tea to-morrow. I have a friend coming in the afternoon, and she will stay to tea, of course."
It was Saturday afternoon, and Fanny had been out for some errands for her mistress, who met her at the lower street door as she was coming in.
"You must shut the cat outside when you go," said the lady. "Twice to-day she has fetched me down here with her scratching to get out."
"Yes, ma'am," answered Fanny; but she was thinking what a nuisance Sunday visitors were, and wondering what time she would be able to get out if this lady visitor was coming to tea. She wanted to go early, for she had promised to meet Miriam at six, to go and see about their new dresses, and she would go too, visitor or no visitor, if it was possible. She muttered this to herself, as she picked up her letter, which she saw at once came from her father.
She tore it open, and read the few lines that it contained, and then threw it on the table again.
"I might have known it was something like that!" she exclaimed in a tone of vexation. "Father says he is coming to meet me, to go to church to-morrow. Of course he will some about six, and how am I to be in three places at once?"
Fanny stood for a minute pondering the situation, and then went for the money for the cake, resolving to take what advantage she could of her father's letter.
She took it with her, and handed it to her mistress.
"You see, ma'am, father says he is coming to meet me, to go to church to-morrow evening. Shall I send and tell him not to come, as you are going to have company?"
"Oh dear, no! There is not time to do that, and I should not like to disappoint you both if there was. If my friend is here, punctually to her time, tea will be nearly over before you want to go out, and in any case I can manage it if you get everything ready before you go. If you leave here five minutes before the time, you will meet him at the corner of the road. I can leave the tea-things in the dining-room, for you to clear away when you come home."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Fanny; and she went off on her errand, glad to know that she would be able to go out in good time the next day, but wondering how she could avoid meeting her father on her way to Mrs. Scott's, for she had no intention of missing this appointment.
Almost at the same moment Miriam touched her on the shoulder.
"Just the girl I wanted to see!" she exclaimed. "I want you to come out a bit earlier to-morrow. Meet me at a quarter to six instead of six o'clock."
"I only wish I could," answered Fanny; "but the missus is going to have company to tea, and I may have a job to get away at six."
"What a bother, to be sure!" exclaimed Miriam. "Some of our folks are going out to tea, and so I can get away earlier. I do think it is a shame that poor servants can be muddled about as we are, we ought to be able to claim our own time and stick to it. Half-past five is your time, I know. That was why I said a quarter to six, for I thought you could walk round to my place in that time, and it would be nice to talk over things again before we go in to my cousin's."
Fanny shook her head. "I don't believe I can get away so early as that," she said. "I shall have a scramble to get away before six."
She did not say a word about meeting her father, for she did not want Miriam to see him. He looked just what he was, a respectable working-man; but Miriam's cousin and her husband were very genteel people, and would be sure to look down upon people like her father.
Fanny was very fond of him, she thought, and would guard him and herself from hearing disparaging remarks passed upon his manners and his clothes. But she did not consider the pain she would cause him by keeping him waiting, while she went about this other business.
She quite intended to see him after her visit to Mrs. Scott, but she could not afford to wait much longer for her new dress, because Miriam had noticed that her present one was shabby and short, and Miriam always looked so nice, that Fanny was almost ashamed to be seen out with her.
Miriam pressed again that she should insist upon coming out at her promised usual time, and Fanny gave a sort of half promise to do this, although she feared it would not be of much use. Still, the thought that she was being hardly dealt with easily found a lodgment in her present frame of mind, and she went home feeling she had a grievance against her mistress for having company to tea on Sunday.
The old-fashioned practice of Saturday cooking prevailed in Mrs. Lloyd's small household, so that Sunday was a very quiet day, and Fanny had very little to do beyond setting and clearing away meals; so on this particular Sunday Fanny had time to think over what Miriam had said about servants having a right to keep to their own time, until she had worked herself up to a state of surprising dissatisfaction, and Mrs. Lloyd, looking at her gloomy, sullen face, wondered what could have happened to upset her while she was at church in the morning.
"Did any one come while I was out this morning?" she said, at last.
"No," answered Fanny, in an insolent tone.
"I think you are forgetting who you are speaking to," said the lady, reprovingly.
"I ain't likely to forget that. Servants seem to have no rights in these days."
"Certainly not the right to be insolent!" said Mrs. Lloyd.
Fanny went out of the room, and shut the door with a bang.
As she sat over her dinner in the kitchen, she recalled something else her friend had told her. She was to have her wages raised in a few weeks' time, and it had been brought about by having given her mistress notice to leave, and it occurred to Fanny that she might do the same thing with a similar advantage. Mrs. Lloyd was evidently annoyed, "cross," Fanny called it, and she took care to do all that was possible to vex her through the afternoon, and when at last the lady said, in a tone of expostulation, "Fanny, you really must be more careful," she said, in reply, "Well, as I don't seem to please you lately, I'll go this day month."
"I cannot take your notice to-day, Fanny, and I hope by to-morrow you will have thought over what has happened, and be ready to beg my pardon for what has occurred."
"Beg your pardon!" repeated Fanny, in an angry tone. "That I never will, and so you need not think it."
"Leave the room at once, Fanny; you have said quite enough for to-day," said her mistress, in a firm tone, and Fanny went out, feeling somewhat ashamed of herself.
The visitor came a few minutes after five, and Fanny carried in tea and had her own before the clock struck the half-hour, and she was dressed and ready to go out by ten minutes to six.
She did not go where she was likely to meet her father, but in another direction to see her new friend, Miriam.
"You are late," grumbled Miriam; "I told you to meet me a quarter to six, and it will strike in a minute or two!"
"Well, I told you I wasn't sure that I could come," said Fanny, in a deprecating tone.
"And I told you to stand up for your rights and not be put upon."
The day had been a miserable one to Fanny, and this greeting from her friend did not make her more cheerful.
"I wish you knew my missus."
"I know my own, and they're all about alike, I expect," said Miriam.
"But now about our frocks. I want to have a word with you before we go to Lizzie's. I was there on Friday evening, and she showed me a lovely piece of stuff. It is not the colour I wanted; but it is such a lovely piece of stuff, and my cousin says it will wear so well, that I shall put up with the colour if you like it."
"I shall like it if it is cheap," said Fanny, trying to laugh; "but, as the people won't take back my watch, I shall have to be careful."
"I tell you what it is, you ought to have more money than you get. You do all the work of that house, and you ought to be paid well for it, and I should tell the missus so if I was you."
"I mean to, if I get the chance," said Fanny. "I must, if I am to have a new frock," she added.
"Well, now will be a good time," commented Miriam. "You have been there just over three months—haven't you?—and so you could easily say, 'I want you to raise my wages next month, and I shall give you notice if you don't.'"
"Is that what you said when you got yours raised?" asked Fanny.
"Something like it," answered Miriam. "Of course I am older, and do nearly all the cooking at my place, and that makes a difference. But still you ought to have nine pounds a year now, and I should tell the lady so, and that you can't stay unless she raises your wages to that."
By this time they had reached Mrs. Scott's, and were very soon looking over the patterns she had obtained for them.
"There, this is the one I like," said Miriam, drawing forward a piece of material, soft, and fine, with a small satin flower of the same colour—a rather dark cinnamon-brown.
"Oh, I do like that!" said Fanny, as soon as she saw it. "My mother would like it too, I am sure," she added.
"It is neat enough for any one to like it," said Mrs. Scott. "But the question you girls have to consider is whether you can afford it."
"You said the stuff was very cheap, Lizzie," said Miriam, quickly.
"So it is, very cheap indeed, considering how good it is; but I could not make either of you a dress for less than a pound, and I should want half the money when you had the dress, and the other half within two months."
Fanny looked at Miriam in blank dismay, it seemed an enormous sum to her.
"Suppose we wanted four months to pay it, what would you charge then?"
"Twenty-five shillings," answered Mrs. Scott, promptly. She did not attempt to persuade the girls to have dresses of that particular material, but showed them some cheaper, which she assured them would also be durable, and serve them for afternoon dresses when they had done with them for best. Fanny looked on silently, leaving Miriam and her cousin to discuss the merits of the various stuffs; but although she took no part, she was thinking and making up her mind about whether she should say she would have the brown dress, and give notice the next day that she would leave, unless her mistress would give her nine pounds a year.
When she was being served with the cake, the previous evening, she heard a lady ask if they knew of a servant who could do housework, and that she gave ten pounds a year. Ten pounds seemed an immense sum to Fanny just now, and she thought if she could only get that, she need not be so worried about the watch and other things, for with this she would have plenty of money for all she needed.
So, by the time Miriam had finished her discussion, Fanny had made up her mind to have that ten pounds a year if it was possible; and so, when Miriam turned to her, she said—
"I will have the brown dress, if you do, and I will pay five shillings a month, as I have not got much put away for it."
Mrs. Scott looked at her in some surprise. "You have thought it all out, I suppose?" she said.
"Yes; I have counted it all over, and I don't think I could do better than have the brown frock," said Fanny, decidedly.
"I am glad," said Miriam. "Of course, I can have one too; so we shall have frocks alike after all. Now, when can we have them, Lizzie?" she asked.
"Well, if you come in one day this week to be measured, I dare say I can let you have them in a fortnight," said Mrs. Scott; and then she wished the girls good night, and they went away.
It struck seven as they went up the street. "I am going to St. Peter's to-night," said Miriam.
"I want to go to St. Mary's; that is close by; and we are late now," said Fanny. Her father was to meet her at the corner of St. Mary's Road, close to the church, and Fanny hoped he had waited for her. She was not sorry that Miriam was determined to go in the other direction, and she crossed the road and looked eagerly round, feeling sure her father was waiting for her somewhere near.
She went a little way up each road in turn, and then back to the corner of the churchyard, and waited; but her father was not to be seen. Fanny went to the church porch and looked into the church, hoping to see him on one of the benches near the door, and because he was not there Fanny grew anxious and disappointed, almost heart-sick, as she looked into strange faces, and her father was not among them.
She wished now that she had come here direct, instead of going first to meet her friend. She lingered near the church until the service was over, and then looked eagerly at the people as they came out, and among those she saw the lady who had asked about a servant at the confectioner's shop the day before. She walked up the street alone, and not seeing anything of her father, Fanny decided to speak to the lady, and ask if she still wanted a servant.
The lady looked a little surprised at being asked such a question at such a time and place, but replied—
"I am wanting a servant. But how did you hear of it?"
"I was at Carpenter's buying some cakes for my mistress yesterday, and heard you tell the young woman that served me that you were in want of a servant, and would give ten pounds a year."
"Yes, I will, to a suitable girl. But you had better come and see me to-morrow morning," added the lady; and then she gave Fanny her address and walked on, leaving the girl almost bewildered by the swiftness with which her good fortune had come to her.
She gave one last lingering look round the two streets to see if she could by any possibility have missed her father coming out of church, and then walked home.
"Why, Fanny, where have you been?" said her mistress, when she opened the door.
"To St. Mary's church, where I was to meet my father."
"And did you meet him, after all?" asked the lady.
"No; I could not see him anywhere," answered Fanny.
"You were not there by six o'clock, nor yet by half-past six; for your father came here about a quarter to seven to ask if you were going out, for he had not seen you anywhere."
"Father came here?" uttered Fanny, slowly.
"Yes, he did, and seemed a good deal put about that you were not at the place to meet him. If I could have left my friend, I should have asked him to come in, that I might have had a few words with him about you; but, as it was, I could only tell him that you went out about a quarter to six, as nearly as I could tell."
Fanny tossed her head. "I want to give you warning to-morrow, and so you need not trouble yourself about me if father does," she said.
Mrs. Lloyd took no notice of this rude speech, and Fanny went upstairs to take off her hat before setting the supper-tray.
The next morning, directly after breakfast, when Fanny went to clear the table, she said—
"If you please, ma'am, I should like to leave this day month, and can I have an hour this morning to see a lady about another place?"
Mrs. Lloyd looked at her in amazement.
"Another place!" she repeated. "Have you told your mother and father what you intend to do?"
"No, ma'am, not yet; but I dare say I shall before I leave."
"Do you think your mother will be pleased to hear that you have done this without asking her advice? When you were coming here, she wisely came to see me first and judge what sort of a home you were likely to have with me. I suppose you have been tempted by the offer of higher wages?" concluded Mrs. Lloyd.
"Yes, partly," answered Fanny. "Everybody wants as much money as they can get," added the girl.
"You will learn one day that money is not everything, Fanny, and a light, comfortable place such as you have here may be worth more than higher wages with little comfort."
Fanny muttered something about "being so particular;" but Mrs. Lloyd took no notice of this, but gave her permission to go out for an hour when some of the morning work was finished.
Fanny's coolness and assurance puzzled the lady, and she wondered who or what could have effected the change that had undoubtedly taken place in the girl.
Looking back to that time, Mrs. Lloyd recalled the Fanny that first came to her—a happy, lighthearted, hopeful girl, willing and eager to give satisfaction, and then, after a few weeks of this, a change gradually crept over the girl, and she grew anxious and dissatisfied and careless, as though her heart was no longer in her work, but as if she had some secret care upon her mind that was constantly troubling her. What could it be? What could have happened in the short time she had been with her?
But there was no answer to her anxious questioning. She knew nothing of Fanny's watch, or of the way in which she spent her money. She had to remind the girl once or twice that she must keep herself supplied with house-slippers, but beyond this she had never made any complaint about her dress. Indeed, she was much pleased with her neat, tidy appearance always, and the way in which her mother had provided for her first start in life gave her great satisfaction, so that she was unusually disturbed when the girl gave her notice to leave after she had been there little more than three months.
"IF you please, ma'am, I've got the place, and the lady will give me ten pounds a year if you can let me go in a fortnight." Fanny had returned, highly elated at the success that had attended her efforts to "better herself," as she called it.
Mrs. Lloyd looked somewhat surprised. "The lady is coming to see me about your character, I suppose?" she said.
"I don't know, ma'am. She didn't say anything about that," answered Fanny.
"You think she is going to take you without a character?" asked Mrs. Lloyd.
"I don't know. I told her I had been living here, and gave her your address."
"Then perhaps she will call and see me," said Mrs. Lloyd. "I hope she will; it is always more satisfactory. How many are there in family at this place?" asked her friend; for she was a true friend to Fanny if she could only have believed it.
"I don't know. I didn't ask," said the girl, a little pertly.
"Is it a larger house than this?" asked Mrs. Lloyd.
"Oh yes; bigger than this," answered Fanny, in a tone of triumph, as though she owned the larger house.
"Tell me the name and address, that I may make some inquiries for you before you decide to take this place," said her mistress.
Fanny pouted and looked sullen. "I can do that," she said. "The lady only wants to know if I can go to her in a fortnight. Her name is Lewis, and she lives at 16, Mortimer Street," she suddenly added, apparently fearing that Mrs. Lloyd would decline to let her leave at the fortnight if she refused to give the address.
"Very well. I will let you know this evening whether I can spare you in a fortnight. Now set the dinner-table; I am going out this afternoon."
Fanny wondered whether her mistress was going to see Miss Martin to ask if she had another girl in the school who could take her place, and what her mother would say when she heard she was going to leave.
Well, it would save her the bother of telling the story herself, she thought, as she took off her things and put on her cap and apron.
She noticed that Mrs. Lloyd did not sit long over her dinner to-day, and this confirmed her suspicion that she was going to the school, for that was a long walk from this end of the town, and there were no tramcars running in that direction. So, when the lady came back about five o'clock looking rather tired, Fanny felt sure she knew all that had happened while she was out, and she would find out who was coming in her place if she could.
But, in point of fact, Mrs. Lloyd's visitor of the day before had told her that if she wanted to make a change, she could recommend a girl about Fanny's age, who, she felt sure, would give satisfaction. But before telegraphing to this friend to engage the girl to come to her, she resolved to make some inquiries about the place and people Fanny had told her of.
Of course it was rather a delicate undertaking, for apparently Mrs. Lloyd had no sufficient reason for asking the questions she did.
But from the information thus gained, she judged that there were several children, and that Fanny might not find it a very easy place; but there was nothing to justify her in refusing to let her go there, she decided, and a little more hard work would not hurt Fanny, and might teach her a useful lesson of contentment.
Just as the tea-things were placed on the table a telegram came for Mrs. Lloyd, announcing that the girl could come at the time named, which removed the last difficulty concerning Fanny going to the new place; and so, when she came to clear the tea-things, Mrs. Lloyd said—
"I shall be able to spare you, Fanny, at the end of a fortnight; but as you will be leaving so soon, and must give each room in turn a good clean before you go, I shall not be able to spare you for a whole day's holiday next week, but will let you go home to tea one day to tell your mother about your new place."
"Thank you," said Fanny, rather ungraciously.
"You had better go at once, and tell Mrs. Lewis that you can go to her in a fortnight, as she wishes. You can wash up the tea-things when you come back," added her mistress.
Fanny ran off to Mortimer Street in joyful haste, and on her way met her friend Miriam, who had been sent out on an errand.
"Oh, I say, I have got a new place!" exclaimed Fanny aloud, as soon as she saw her friend.
"Where is it?" asked Miriam, with almost equal eagerness.
"16, Mortimer Street," answered Fanny; and at the same moment the man who was in the habit of calling for the payment of her monthly instalment on the debt for her watch passed and looked at the girls, and then wrote down the address he had heard in his pocket-book.
The friends were too much occupied with their own affairs to notice him, but went on eagerly with their talk.
"You are to have ten pounds a year!" repeated Miriam. "Well, you are in luck! And only sixteen, too!"
Fanny laughed. "They think I am eighteen," she said. "The lady asked if I was eighteen, and I said, 'Not quite.' And she said, 'Well, you look quite eighteen, and so I think you will suit me.'"
"I don't think much of Mortimer Street," remarked Miriam. "I suppose there are a swarm of children."
"Two or three, I think," said Fanny. "I shan't mind that. It will make a little life in the house," she said.
"Yes; if you don't have too much of it," commented Miriam. "When are you to come out?" she asked the next minute.
"Oh, Sunday evening, of course. I shall have to help cook the dinner in the morning."
"Well, it will be all right for your new frock now," said Miriam. "I am glad we ordered them on Sunday."
"Yes. So am I." And Fanny bade her friend good-bye, and hurried on to Mortimer Street.
She had to ring the bell several times before she could make herself heard, for a game of romps seemed to be in progress, and the noise of children's voices, shouting, screaming, and laughing, made other sounds inaudible in the house.
"I won't have that row in my kitchen, I know," muttered Fanny, as she gave another vigorous pull at the front-door bell.
This time somebody did hear it, and at once flew to the door.
It was a boy about ten, and in answer to Fanny's inquiry for Mrs. Lewis, the boy slammed the door in her face, and dashed off upstairs, calling—
"Mother! mother! here's a girl wants you!" Fanny was not too well pleased. "What a way to answer the door!" she said, half aloud.
The next minute it was opened by Mrs. Lewis herself.
Fanny stated her errand. The children, crowding round their mother to look at the stranger, made open comments on the "new girl's" looks.
"If you please, ma'am, Mrs. Lloyd says she can spare me to come to you this day fortnight, and if you would like to see her about my character, she will be at home any morning before eleven."
"Oh, very well. I may call if I have time," said Mrs. Lewis; and she pulled the children in as they went crowding out on the doorsteps.
Recalling this last scene as she walked homewards, Fanny did not feel quite so elated over her good fortune. Some of the gilding had been rubbed off the promised ten pounds a year. She felt disappointed too, for she had felt sure of seeing the present maid-of-all-work, and asking her a few questions concerning the place, and why she was leaving.
She walked home more soberly than when she came out, and for the first time asked herself whether she was wise in leaving Mrs. Lloyd in such a hurry. "There, it's too late to think about that now," she said to herself after a minute or two. "If I don't like the place, or the children are too tiresome, I can leave at the end of the month, and Mrs. Lloyd will give me another character, so I am not going to worry myself. Ten pounds a year is ten pounds, and I may think myself lucky to get it."
She did not tell Mrs. Lloyd a word about the children, simply saying she had told Mrs. Lewis she could have her character, but that she did not know whether she would call for it or not.
"It would be much more satisfactory in every way to come and see me, and ask a few questions," commented the lady.
Fanny tossed her head. She thought her mistress wanted to prevent her taking the place even now, and she hoped Mrs. Lewis would not have time to come and hear all Mrs. Lloyd had to say about the things she had broken and damaged since she had been there.
As she washed up the tea-things she wondered who was to be her successor—which of the girls Miss Martin would recommend, and how soon the school would hear that she was going to leave her first place in less than six months, and so forfeit the Vicar's prize. She told herself again and again that she did not care a pin about this prize; but in reality she cared very much, now she came to think about it, especially as her sister Eliza had given such satisfaction to Mrs. Parsons and the Vicar. But then, again, came the thought of the higher wages she was going to have at her new place, and that consoled her, if it did not perfectly satisfy her.
The next few days were busy ones, for Mrs. Lloyd superintended the turning out of each room in turn that the house might be quite clean for the new maid, as it had been for Fanny when she came; and it was not until the last week of her stay with Mrs. Lloyd that Fanny received permission to go home for the afternoon to have tea with her mother, and tell her of the change she was about to make.
Fanny decided that she would find out as she went home who was coming to take her place, and so, instead of hurrying away directly after dinner, she did not go out until nearly three, for she intended to go round by the school and arrive there just as the girls were leaving at four o'clock. She should hear then all about the girl who was coming to take her place, and also what her mother had said when she heard she was going to leave.
But when the school was reached, and she met her sisters coming out of the playground, and they ran eagerly forward to meet her, they did not say what she expected to hear, "Why are you going to leave your place, Fanny?"
"How is mother?" she asked, after various questions and exclamations had passed.
"She is very well, but she has gone out to tea, as you didn't come home at the proper time. Mother said this was the day for your holiday; and she made a cake, too," put in Selina.
"Yes, she thought you would have written to tell us if you could not come as usual," explained Minnie.
"Oh, Fan, father was cross the other Sunday when he came to meet you and you did not come," said Selina.
"I was cross, too," said Fanny; "but, after all, it did not matter, for I got—"
And there she stopped, for she did not mean to say a word about the new place just now, especially to Selina; and at the same moment a group of old schoolfellows gathered round her, and one among them exclaimed—
"Now, Fanny, you are coming home with me to tea. You said you would the last time you had a holiday, and now you must."
"But I haven't had a whole holiday this time. We are busy just now," said Fanny.
"Never mind, a promise is a promise, and you must come with me. Minnie can tell them at home where you are."
Fanny made a slight resistance to this plea, but it was very slight, for she was not anxious to go home, as her father had been so put out at not meeting her that fateful Sunday evening.
She sent a message to her mother that she would come in and see her on her way back to Mrs. Lloyd's, and then she kissed her sisters and joined the group of girls with Mary Taylor.
This was the girl she had decided in her own mind would succeed her at Mrs. Lloyd's, and she was surprised that she had not heard at once about this. Perhaps for some reason it had not been openly spoken of in the school; but if she went home with Mary to tea she would be sure to hear the news.
On their way to Mary's home, when the other girls had left them, she said to her friend—
"Are any more girls leaving yet, Mary?"
"No. Mother is rather disappointed, for, you know, she had my name put down for the next place that teacher heard of. Now she has written to my aunt who lives near London to look-out for me."
Fanny was puzzled. So Mrs. Lloyd had not been to Miss Martin for another maid, and she wondered whether by her carelessness she had brought her old school into such ill repute that her mistress would not have another girl from there.
It was not a pleasant thought, and she put it away from her as quickly as she could, laughing and chatting with Mary quite merrily.
She was not in a hurry to go home when tea was over, and she left herself so little time to see her mother that she could hardly wait while Selina fetched her from Jessie's; for it was there she had gone to tea; to show her how to manage some alterations that were necessary in the black dress Miss Martin had given her for Jessie, and which there had been no time to do before.
Fanny chose to be aggrieved that her mother should devote so much of her time to Jessie Collins.
"I never heard of such a thing in my life," she grumbled to Minnie, while Selina ran to tell her mother she was waiting. "When I was at home I was not to talk or play with Jessie, and now mother makes more fuss of her than she does of her own children. I don't think it's fair to keep me waiting here when I have so little time because she is with her favourite."
"Fanny, how can you talk like that?" protested Minnie. "Mother did not go to help with the frock until long after the time for you to come home. She got a hot dinner for you, and a cake for tea, and now you come when it is time to start to go back again. I call it shameful; as bad as serving father as you did. It seems as though you were tired of us all now you have got a nice, comfortable place," added Minnie.
"Well, perhaps I am going to leave that nice, comfortable place," said Fanny, with something like a sneering laugh.
"It would serve you right if you did," said Minnie, in an angry tone; and in the midst of these angry words Mrs. Brown hurried in.
"My dear Fanny, where have you been that you did not get home to dinner as usual?" said Mrs. Brown, kissing Fanny and taking no notice of Minnie's wrathful face.
"We are busy, and I could not get away until after dinner," answered Fanny, "and I must get in early, or Mrs. Lloyd will be cross," she added.
"But surely you can stay with us for an hour now you have come!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown, quickly.
"No, I must not stop a minute. I forgot I promised to go to tea with Mary Taylor the last time I was at home," said Fanny, "and she made me go with her when I went to meet the children coming out of school."
"Wait a minute, then, and I will put on my other bonnet and go with you," said her mother. "Cut yourself a piece of cake, I shall be ready by the time you have eaten it."
Fanny cut a slice of cake, and her mother was ready to start before she had finished it. When they had begun their walk, Mrs. Brown said—
"How was it you did not go to meet your father as he asked you, my girl? I never saw him so upset as he was when he came home that Sunday night. He says he could not have missed you if you had gone near the place within half an hour of the time he mentioned. It is not fair to treat your father like this," added Mrs. Brown, in a reproachful tone.
"There, mother, hold your tongue. I thought what it would be when you said you would walk with me. You always find something to grumble about. I had to go somewhere else before I could go to meet father. I am sure I have got as much to grumble at as he has, for I was waiting and looking about at that corner all church-time. I do think if father really wanted to see me, he might have waited a bit longer."
Mrs. Brown was angry at the manner in which Fanny spoke.
"He did more than just wait for you," she said, "he went on, and asked your mistress if you could not come out to church, and she said you had been gone nearly an hour. Then your father felt sure that you had gone another way on purpose to avoid him, and he came home at once, worried and upset, I can tell you. I said I would ask you to tell me all about it when you came home, and I hope you will, Fanny," added her mother, in a more persuasive tone.
"I don't know that there's anything to tell," said Fanny, suddenly. "I have made friends with another girl, who is a servant living close by, and I had promised to meet her before I got father's letter, and then I had to go another way to St. Mary's Road, and that was how I missed him, I expect."
Mrs. Brown breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, Fanny, why didn't you send him a line the next day, saying you were sorry you had missed him? Or why didn't you go to him first, and he would have gone with you to meet your friend, and you could have gone to church together?"
"Well, I might have done that, I suppose," remarked Fanny, "but I never thought of it. Tell him when you write, mother, that I am sorry, and that I was looking for him all the evening round by the church." Then she added, "Now, mother, I must walk on faster, or I shall be late; and Mrs. Lloyd wants to go out, I know."
So Mrs. Brown bade Fanny good-bye, somewhat relieved by the explanation the girl had given, and yet feeling vaguely uneasy about her, she knew not why.
Fanny hurried along the road when she left her mother, reflecting that she had escaped a good scolding, such as she had expected, for no word had been said about her leaving her situation, and her mother had heard nothing of the new one to which she was so soon going.
"ARE you the new servant? If you are, mother says you're to go down to the kitchen, and wash up the things. My sister is ill, and the doctor is coming presently."
The speaker was the elder boy of the group of children she had seen before, and this was Fanny's introduction to her new situation.
The boy who had helped her to carry her box set it down in the passage and went away; while a feeling of forlornness began to creep over Fanny as she followed the little boy down to the kitchen.
When they reached the door, she paused for a moment.
"Is this the kitchen?" she asked, almost aghast at the sight of the dirty, comfortless room, that seemed to be filled with dirty cups and plates from end to end. Even the single wooden chair, that stood near the table, was piled high, like the table and dresser, with dirty crockery, and a vision of Mrs. Lloyd's cosy little kitchen rose in contrast.
"What are you staring at?" asked the little boy. "Jane ran away the other morning, so there's been nobody to wash up the tea-things and dinner-things."
It occurred to Fanny that she had better follow the example of her predecessor, and run away too; but she knew now that her situation at Mrs. Lloyd's was filled, and the thought of ten pounds a year made her willing to put up with some discomfort.
After a silent look round the room, she slowly took off her hat, and when the boy was turning away, she said—
"Wait a minute; you must show me where to find things, if I am to clear up this muddle."
A fire was lighted in the choked-up grate, for the first thing, and a kettle of water put on to boil, and when the little boy had told her where various things were kept, and had left her to find out what she could for herself, she commenced her task by taking off her afternoon frock, and putting on the one she had worn in the morning, and a large coarse apron over it, for the kitchen did not look as though it had been cleaned for a month, and dresser, cupboards, and table looked equally dirty.
At first, Fanny felt disposed to sit down and cry, but as the fire burned up, the kitchen began to look more cheerful, and with all her faults, Fanny was not afraid of hard work, and so she was soon sorting and separating cups and saucers from plates and dishes, and had more water on the fire to get hot, for she could do nothing without plenty of hot water.
No one came near her for nearly an hour. The children seemed very quiet, and she supposed Mrs. Lewis was upstairs with the little girl who was ill; so she set about her task of clearing up, and was nearly half done when her new mistress came into the kitchen.
"Come, make haste, Mary, I want the supper things set as soon as possible," she said.
"My name is Fanny," said the new servant.
"Well, we have been used to call the girls 'Mary' until the last, and she would be called Jane."
"I should like to be called by my own name, too," said Fanny; but the lady said that "Mary" was a much more convenient name, and so Fanny had to accept it.
She could not wash up all the dirty crockery, but as soon as she had done plates enough for the supper-table, she had to go upstairs and lay the cloth. Most of the children sat down to that meal, as well as her master and mistress, so that by the time that was cleared away, Fanny was tired with running up and down stairs, and had apparently made very little progress with clearing up the kitchen.
Ten o'clock had been the hour for going to bed at Mrs. Lloyd's; but apparently there was no such rule here, for after the clock had struck eleven, her new mistress told her to clear up all the rest of the dirty things, and put them away, before she went to bed; and that she must get up at six the next morning to get all the boots and shoes cleaned before breakfast, and the dining-room swept and dusted.
Fanny answered, "Yes, ma'am;" but it was easy to see that she already began to think she might have to pay too dearly for her increased wages, and by the time she got to bed, she was so tired that she cried herself to sleep.
By the end of the next day she had made up her mind that she would not stay more than a month, for Mrs. Lewis did not seem to understand how to manage either household or children; and now that one of them was ill, Fanny was kept running up and down stairs to the neglect of her other work, and was then scolded because it was not done.
Coming from a well-ordered household like Mrs. Lloyd's, it seemed to Fanny that everything went haphazard here, and mistress and maid alike seemed to be always struggling to overtake the work that needed doing, and yet never succeeded.
Mrs. Lewis was never a good manager, but now that she had her little daughter to nurse, matters were a good deal worse, and poor Fanny was so tired before bedtime came that she hardly knew how to drag one foot before the other.
It came to be a regular thing that she should cry herself to sleep every night, and oversleep herself in the morning.
Then, when the child got worse, and Fanny heard some one say it was scarlet fever, she could scarcely snatch time to have a meal in peace, for there was no time to sit down. When a meal was given to her, she took it to the kitchen and had a mouthful as she could snatch it, while washing up or getting something ready to take upstairs.
One day when she took up something to the sick-room, Mrs. Lewis gave her an apron full of odds and ends, and told her to put them on the kitchen fire; but the sight of a pink silk scarf, scarcely soiled, made Fanny decide to look then; over before she burned them, and when she did so, the pretty scarf and one or two pieces of ribbon were selected as being too good to throw away, and Fanny put them into her pocket.
At the end of a fortnight Fanny told her mistress that she would like to leave at the end of the month, as the work was too much for her.
Mrs. Lewis looked at her for a moment in silence, and then actually burst into tears.
"What am I to do if you leave me just now? Nobody else will come, with scarlet fever in the house."
"Is it so dangerous?" said Fanny, in a sudden fright.
"People are silly enough to be frightened of it," said the lady, "and so I hope you will stay with me until it is all over, and then I will make you a present for the extra work you have had, as well as give you a good holiday."
Fanny considered the matter for a minute, and then consented, though she heaved a sigh as she did so, for she was growing very tired of the hard drudgery of her work day after day, without any relaxation.
Since the little girl had been so very ill, Fanny had not been able to go out even on Sunday evening. Only when sent on an errand occasionally was there a chance of losing sight and sound of the constant work and worry.
She had been there three weeks, and began to wish that she had not consented to stay beyond the month, when one morning she woke up unusually early, but when she got up her head ached so much that she was obliged to lie down on the bed again.
She managed to crawl downstairs at six o'clock, and after breakfast she felt a little better; but before she went to bed at night her throat was sore, and she tied the pink scarf round it when she went upstairs. The following day, when she was answering a knock at the kitchen street door, she was startled to see the collector from Judds', as the boy who had brought potatoes turned away.
"You didn't expect to see me, miss," he said with a grin, as Fanny changed colour. She felt too poorly, too much upset by the sight of the man to reply. "Judds don't like this sort of thing," he said, after a pause. "Customers moving away and never giving us notice is against the rules. Now for the money," he added.
"I can't pay you to-day," said Fanny, thinking of the new frock that had been sent home the previous evening from Mrs. Scott.
"Then you know what the consequence will be, miss. I shall have to send the inspector to call upon you," said the man.
"Very well," was all Fanny could answer, for the shock of seeing this man, whom she thought she had escaped, for a time at least, seemed to deprive her of all her remaining strength. She shut the door, crept back to the kitchen, and sank down on the chair as though she was about to faint. She sat there until she was startled by the imperative ringing of the front-door bell. She stumbled up the stairs, and opened the door to the doctor. He stepped in, and then paused on the mat to look at her.
"What is the matter?" he asked. "You are ill. You have no business to be here, my girl. Where is your mistress?" he added.
Mrs. Lewis came downstairs at the same moment. "She is better to-day, doctor; I am sure she is better," she said, in a tone of glad excitement.