"But you are so often at Gladwyn, you ought to know, Max."
"Yes, of course; and now and then I have seen Hamilton a little stern with his sisters; he is rather irritable by nature. I don"t quite understand things myself, but I have got it into my head that they would be happier without Miss Darrell; she is a splendid manager, but it puts Miss Hamilton out of her right place."
"But she is an invalid, you say?"
"No, not an invalid, only very delicate, and a little morbid; not quite what a girl ought to be. You could do some good there, Ursula,"
rather eagerly. "Miss Hamilton has no friends of her own age; she is reserved,--peculiar. You might be a comfort to her; you are sympathetic, sensible, and have known trouble yourself. I should like to see you use your influence there."
"I will try, if you wish it, Max. And her name is Gladys?"
"Yes, Gladys, of Gladwyn," he returned, with a smile, but I thought he said it with rather a singular intonation, but it had a musical sound, and I repeated it again to myself,--"Gladys, of Gladwyn."
CHAPTER VIII
NEW BROOMS SWEEP CLEAN
We were interrupted just then by Mrs. Drabble, who came in for the tea-things, and, as usual, held a long colloquy with her master on sundry domestic affairs. When she had at last withdrawn, Uncle Max did not resume the subject. I was somewhat disappointed at this, and in spite of my strong antipathy to Mr. Hamilton I wanted to hear more about his sisters.
He disregarded my hints, however, and began talking to me about my work.
"Do you know anything about the family Mr. Hamilton mentioned?" I asked, rather eagerly.
"Oh yes; Mary Marshall"s is a very sad case; she has seven children, not one of them old enough to work for himself; and she is dying, poor creature, of consumption. Her husband is a navvy, and he is at work at Lewes; I believe he is pretty steady, and sends the greater part of his wages to his wife, but there are too many mouths to feed to allow of comforts; his old blind mother lives with them. I believe the neighbours are kind and helpful, and Peggy, the eldest child, is a sharp little creature, but you can imagine the miserable condition of such a home."
"Yes, indeed." And I shuddered as I recalled many a sad scene in my father"s home.
"I have sent in a woman once or twice to clean up the place; and Mrs.
Drabble has made excellent beef-tea, but the last lot turned sour from being left in the hot kitchen one night, and the cat upset the basin of calf"s-foot jelly,--at least the children said so. I go there myself, because Tudor says the air of the place turns him sick: he looked as white as a ghost after his last visit, and declared he was poisoned with foul air."
"I daresay he was right, Max; poor people have such an objection to open their windows."
"I believe you there. I have talked myself nearly hoa.r.s.e on that subject.
Hamilton and I propose giving lectures in the schoolroom on domestic hygiene. There is a fearful want of sanitary knowledge in women belonging to the lower cla.s.s; want of cleanliness, want of ventilation, want of whitewashing, are triple evils that lead to the most lamentable results.
We cannot get people to understand the common laws of life; the air of their rooms may be musty, stagnant, and corrupt, and yet they are astonished if their children have an attack of scarlet fever or diphtheria."
I commended the notion of the lectures warmly, and asked with whom the idea had originated.
"Oh, Hamilton, of course: he is the moving spirit of everything. We have planned the whole thing out. There is to be a lecture every Friday evening; the first is to be on household hygiene, the sanitary condition of houses, ventilation, cleanliness, etc. In the second lecture Hamilton will speak of the laws of health, self-management, personal cleanliness, to be followed by a few simple lectures on nursing, sick-cookery, and the treatment of infantile diseases. We want all the mothers to attend.
Do you think it a good idea, Ursula?"
"It is an excellent one," I returned reluctantly, for I grudged the praise to Mr. Hamilton. He could benefit his fellow-creatures, and give time and strength and energy to the poor sick people, and yet sneer at me civilly when I wanted to do the same, just because I was a woman. Perhaps Max was disappointed with my want of enthusiasm, for he ceased talking of the lectures, and said he had some more letters to write before dinner, and during the rest of the evening, though we discussed a hundred different topics, Mr. Hamilton"s name was not again mentioned.
Uncle Max walked with me to the gate of the White Cottage, and bade me a cheerful good-night.
"I like to feel you are near me, Ursula," he said, quite affectionately; "an old bachelor like myself gets into a groove, and the society of a vigorous young woman, brimful of philanthropy and crotchets, will rub me up and do me good; one goes to sleep sometimes," he finished, rather mournfully, and then he walked away in the darkness, and I stood for a minute to watch him.
It seemed to me that Max was a little different this evening. He was always kind, always cheerful; he never wrapped himself up in gloomy reserve like other people, however depressed or ill at ease he might be; but Mrs. Drabble was right, he was certainly thinner, and there was an anxious careworn look about his face when he was not speaking. I was certain, too, that his cheerfulness and ready flow of conversation were not without effort. I had asked him once if he were quite well, and he had looked at me in evident astonishment.
"Perfectly well, thank you,--in a state of rude health. Nothing ever ails me. Why do you ask?" But I evaded this question, for I knew Max hated to be watched; and, after all, what right had I to intrude into his private anxieties? doubtless he had plenty of these, like other men. The management of a large parish was on his shoulders, and he was too conscientious and hard-working to spare himself; but somehow the shadow lying deep down in Max"s honest brown eyes haunted me as I unlatched the cottage door.
I heard Nathaniel"s voice in the kitchen, and went in to bid him and his mother good-night. Mrs. Barton was not there, however, but, to my chagrin, Mr. Hamilton occupied her seat. He looked up with a rather quizzical glance as I entered: he and Nathaniel had the round table between them, strewn with books and papers; Nathaniel was writing, and Mr. Hamilton was sitting opposite to him.
"I beg your pardon," I said hurriedly. "I thought Mrs. Barton was here."
"She has gone to bed," returned Mr. Hamilton coolly: "my friend Nathaniel and I are hard at work, as you see. Do you know anything of mathematics, Miss Garston?--no, you shake your head--" I do not know what more he would have said, but I escaped with a quick good-night.
As I went upstairs I made a resolution to avoid the kitchen in future: I might at any moment stumble upon Mr. Hamilton. I had forgotten that he gave Nathaniel lessons sometimes in the evening. What a ubiquitous mortal this man appeared, here, there, and everywhere! It had given me rather a shock to see him so comfortably domiciled in Mrs. Barton"s cosy kitchen; he looked as much at home there as in Uncle Max"s study. How bright Nathaniel had looked as he raised his head to bid me good-night! I was obliged to confess that they had seemed as happy as possible.
It was very late when he left the cottage; I was just sinking off to sleep when I heard his voice under my window. Tinker heard it too, and barked, and then the gate shut with a sudden sharp click and all was still. Nathaniel must have crept up to bed in his stocking-feet, as they say in some parts, for I never heard him pa.s.s my door.
I was glad to be greeted by sunshine the next morning; the day seemed to smile on my new work like an unuttered benison, as I went down to my solitary breakfast. I resolved that nothing Mr. Hamilton could say should damp or put me out of temper, and then I sat down and read a sad rambling letter from Jill, which was so quaint and original, in spite of its lugubriousness, that it made me smile.
I was standing by the door, caressing Tinker, who was in a frolicking mood this morning, when I saw Mr. Hamilton cross the road; he wore a dark tweed suit and a soft felt hat,--a costume that did not suit him in the least; he held open the gate for me, and made a sign that I should join him. As I approached without hurrying myself in the least, he looked inquiringly at the basket I carried.
"I hope you do not intend to pauperise your patients," was his first greeting.
"Oh no," was my reply, but I did not volunteer any information as to the contents of the basket. There was certainly a jar of beef-tea that Mrs.
Drabble had given me, and a few grapes; but the little store of soap, soda, fine rags, and the two or three clean towels and cloths would have surprised him a little, though he might have understood the meaning of the neat housewife.
"I am glad you wear print dresses," was his next remark; "they are proper for a nurse. Stuff gowns that do not wash are abominations. I am taking you to a very dirty place, Miss Garston, but what can you expect when there are seven children under thirteen years of age and the mother is dying? She was a clean capable body when she was up; it is hard for her to see the place like a pig-sty now. Old Mrs. Marshall is blind, and as helpless as the children," He spoke abruptly, but not without feeling.
"The neighbours are good to them, Uncle Max tells me."
"Oh yes; they come in and tidy up a bit, that is their expression; now and then they wash the baby or take off a batch of dirty clothes, but they have their own homes and children. I tell my patient that she would be far more comfortable in a hospital; but she says she cannot leave the children, she would rather die at home. That is what they all say."
"But the poor creatures mean what they say, Mr. Hamilton."
"Oh, but it is all nonsense!" he returned irritably. "She can do nothing for the children; she cannot have a moment"s quiet or a moment"s comfort, with all those grimy noisy creatures rushing in and out. I found her sitting up in bed yesterday, in danger of breaking a blood-vessel through coughing, because one of the imps had fallen down and cut his head and she was trying to plaster it."
"Her husband ought to be with her," I said, somewhat indignantly.
"He is on a job somewhere, and cannot come home; they must have bread to eat, and he must work. This is the house," pointing to a low white cottage at the end of a long straggling street of similar houses; two or three untidy-looking children were playing in the front garden with some oyster-sh.e.l.ls and a wooden horse without a head. One little white-headed urchin clapped his hands when he saw Mr. Hamilton, and a pretty little girl with a very dirty face ran up to him and clasped him round the knee.
""As "oo any pennies to-day?" she lisped.
"No nonsense; run away, children," he said, in a rough voice that did not in the least alarm them, for they scampered after us into the porch until an elder girl, with a year-old baby in her arms, met us on the threshold and scolded them away.
Mr. Hamilton shook a big stick at them.
"I shall give no pennies to children with dirty faces. Well, Peggy, how is mother? Have the boys gone to school, both of them? That is right.
This is the lady who is coming to look after mother."
Here Peggy dropped a courtesy, and said, "Yes, sir," and "yes please, mum."