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«No. A man who will not take the consequences “Up stairs, uncle, I believe." of loving cannot be much of a lover.”
“ Is she aware of that fellow's presence?” “Lucy!” cried Thomas, now stung to the heart. “ You are not very polite, uncle," said Lucy, with
“I can't help it, Thomas," said Lucy, bursting dignity. “ This is my friend, Mr. Worboise, whom I into tears; “I must speak the truth, and if you cannot believe you know. Of course I do not receive visitors bear it, the worse for me and for you, too, Thomas." without my grandmother's knowledge."
“Then you mean to give me up?" said Thomas, Mr. Boxall choked an oath in his throat, or rather pathetically, without, however, any real fear of such the oath nearly choked him. He turned and went an unthinkable catastrophe.
down the stair again; but neither of them heard the “ If it be giving you up to say I will not marry a outer door close. Thomas and Lucy stared at each man who is too much afraid of his father and mother other in dismay. to let them know what he is about, then I do give you The facts of the case were these, as near as I can up. But it will be you who give me up if you re- guess. The Ningpo had dropped down to Gravesend, fuse to acknowledge me as you ought."
and the Boxalls had joined her there.
But some Lucy could not have talked like this ever before in delay had arisen, and she was not to sail till the next her life. She had gone through an eternity of morning. Mr. Boxall had resolved to make use of suffering in the night. She was a woman now. She the time thus gained or lost, and had come up to had been but a girl before. Now she stood high above town. I cannot help believing that it was by contriThomas. He was but a boy still, and not beautiful vance of Mr. Stopper, who had watched Tom and seen as such. She was all at once old enough to be his him go up the court, that he went through the door mother. There was no escape from the course she from his private room, instead of going round, which took ; no dodging was possible. This must be. But would have given warning to the lovers. Possibly she was and would be gentle with poor Thomas. he returned intending to see his mother; but after “ You do not love me, Lucy," he cried.
the discovery he made, avoided her partly because “ My poor Thomas, I do love you; love you so he was angry and would not quarrel with her the dearly that I trust and pray you may be worthy of last thing before his voyage. Upon maturer conmy love. Go and do as you ought, and come back to sideration, he must have seen that he had no ground
like one of the old knights you talk about,” she for quarrelling with her at all, for she could have added, with the glimmer of a hopeful smile, “bring- known nothing about Tom in relation to Mary, exing victory to his lady."
cept Tom had told her, which was not at all likely. “I will, I will," said Thomas, overcome by her But before he had had time to see this, he was on solcmn beauty and dignified words. It was as if she his way to Gravesend again. He was so touchy as had cast the husk of the girl, and had come out a well as obstinate about everything wherein his family saving angel. But the perception of this was little was concerned, that the sight of Tom with his Mary's more to him yet than a poetic sense of painful pleasure. cousin was enough to drive all reflection out of him
“I will, I will,” he said. “But I cannot to-night, for an hour at least. for my father and mother are both at Folkestone. Thomas and Lucy stood and stared at each other. But I will write to them-that will be best."
Thomas stared from consternation; Lucy only stared ** Any way you like, Thomas. I don't care how at Tom. you do it, so it is done.”
“ Well, Thomas,” she said at last, with a sweet All this time the old lady, having seen that some watery smile; for she had her lover, and she had lost thing was wrong, had discreetly kept out of the way, her idol. She had got behind the scenes, and could for she knew that the quarrels of lovers at least are worship no more ; but Dagon was a fine idea, notmost easily settled between themselves. Thomas now withstanding his fall, and if she could not set him up considered it all over and done with, and Lucy, over- on his pedestal again, she would at least try to give joyed at her victory, leaned into his arms, and let him an arm-chair. Fish-tailed Dagon is an unforhim kiss her ten times. Such a man, she ought not, tunate choice for the simile, I know, critical reader; perhaps-only she did not know better-to have but let it pass, and, the idea it illustrates being by no allawed to touch her till he had done what he had means original, let the figure at least have some claim promised. To some people the promise is the difficult to the distinction. part, to others the performance. To Thomas, un- “Now he'll go and tell my father," said Tom; happily, the promising was easy.
“and I wish you knew what a row my mother and! They did not hear the door open. It was now he will make between them.” getting dark, but the two were full in the light of the “ But why, Tom? Have they any prejudice window, and visible enough to the person who entered. against me? Do they know there is such a person?” He stood still for one moment, during which the “I don't know. They may have heard of you at lovers unwound their arms. Only when parting, they your uncle's.” became aware that a man was in the room. He came “ Then why should they be so very angry?” forward with hasty step. It was Richard Boxall. “My father because you have no money, and my Thomas looked about for his hat. Lucy stood firm mother because you have no grace.” and quiet, waiting.
“No grace, Tom! Am I so very clumsy?”. “ Lacy, where is your grandmother?”
Thomas burst out laughing.
“I forgot,” he said. “You were not brought up to
“But where are you going ?” my mother's slang. She and her set use Bible words “You'll see that when we get there. You're not till they make you hate them.”
afraid, are you?" “ But you shouldn't hate them. They are good in “Not I," answered Tom; "only a fellow likes to themselves, though they be wrong used."
know where he's going. That's all." "That's all very well. Only if you had been tried “Well, where would you like to go? A young with them as I have been, I am afraid you would have fellow like you really ought to know something of had to give in to hating them, as well as me, Lucy. the world he lives in. You are clever enough, in all I never did like that kind of slang. But what am I conscience, if you only knew a little more.” to do with old Boxall-I beg your pardon-with “Go on, then. I don't care. It's nothing to me your uncle Richard ? He'll be sure to write to my where I go. Only," Tom added, “ I have no money father before he sails. They're friends, you know." in my pocket. I spent my last shilling on this copy
“Well, but you will be beforehand with him, and of Goethe's poems.". then it won't matter. You were going to do it at any “Ah, you never spent your money better! There rate, and the thing now is to have the start of him," was a man, now, that never contented himself with said Lucy, perhaps not sorry to have in the occurrence hearsay! He would know all the ways of life for himan additional spur to prick the sides of Thomas's self-else how was he to judge of them all? He would intent.
taste of everything, that he might know the taste of "Yes, yes, that's all very well," returned Thomas, it. Why should a man be ignorant of anything that dubiously, as if there was a whole world behind it. can be known ? Come along. I will take care of
“ Now, dear Tom, do go home at once, and write. you. See if I don't!" You will save the last post if you do,” said Lucy “But you can't be going anywhere in London for decidedly; for she saw more and more the necessity, nothing. And I tell you I haven't got a farthing for Thomas's own sake, of urging him to action. in my purse.” "So, instead of giving me a happy evening, you
“Never mind that. It shan't cost you anything. are going to send me home to an empty house!” Now I am going to make a clean broast of it, as you
“ You see the thing must be done, or my uncle will English call it; though why there should be any. be before you," said Lucy, beg ing to be vexed thing dirty in keeping your own secrets I don't know. with him for his utter want of decision, and with her. I want to make an experiment with you." self for pushing him towards such an act. Indeed, “Give me chloroform, and cut me up?" said Tom, she felt all at once that perhaps she had been un- reviving as his quarrel with Lucy withdrew a little maidenly. But there was no choice except to do it, into the background. or break off the engagement.
“Not quite that. You shall neither take chloroNow whether it was that her irritation influenced form, nor have your eyes bandaged, nor be tied to the her tone and infected Tom with like irritation, or that table. You can go the moment you have had enough he could not bear being thus driven to do what he so of it. It is merely for the sake of my theory. Enmuch disliked, while on the whole he would have tirely an experiment." preferred that Mr. Boxall should tell his father and “ Perhaps, if you told me your theory, I might so gave him from the immediate difficulty, the evil judge of the naturo of the experiment." spirit in him arose once more in rebellion, and, like "I told you all about it the other day. You are the mule that he was, he made an effort to unseat the one of those fortunate mortals doomed to be lucky. gontle power that would have urged him along the Why, I knew one--not a gambler, I don't mean that only safe path on the mountain-side.
-whose friends last would have nothing to do “Lucy, I will not be badgered in this way. If with him where any chance was concerned. If it you can't trust me, you won't get anything that way." was only sixpenny points, they wouldn't play a single
Lucy drew back a step and looked at him for one rubber of whist with him except he was their partner. moment; then turned and left the room. Thomas In fact, the poor wretch was reduced to play only waited for a minute; then, choosing to arouse a great with strangers--comparative strangers, I mean, of sense of injury in his bosom, took his hat, and went course. He won everything." out, banging the door behind him.
“ Then what do you want with me? Out with it." Just as he banged Lucy's door, ont came Mr. Molken “I only want to back you. You don't understand from his. It was as if the devil had told a hawk to the thing. You shan't spend a farthing. I have wait, and he would fetch him a pigeon.
plenty."--Here Molken pulled a few sovereigns from “Coming to have your lesson after all ?” he asked, his pocket as he went on, and it never occurred to as Thomas, from very indecision, made a step or two Tom to ask how he had them, seeing he was so hardtowards him.
up at dinner-time.—“It's all for my theory of luck, I “No; I don't feel inclined for a lesson to-night." assure you. I have given up practical gambling, as “Where are you going, then?"
I told you, long ago. It's not right. I have known “Oh, I don't know," answered Tom, trying to enough about it, I confess to you-you know we unlook no-how in particular.
derstand each other; but I confess too--my theory “ Come along with me, then. I'll show you some- -I am anxious about that." thing of life after dark.”
All this time they had been walking along, Thomas
CHAPTER XX.-IIOW LUCY SPENT THE NIGHT.
paying no heed to the way they went. He would Lucy made no reply, but turned her face towards have known little about it, however, well as he the wall, as inourners did ages before the birth of
thought he knew London, for they had entered a King Hezekiah. Grannie had learned a little wisdom | region entirely unknown to him.
in her long life, and left her. She would get a cup of “ But you haven't told me, after all," he said, tea ready, for she had great faith in bodily cures for “where you are going."
mental aches. But before the tea was well in the tea“Here," answered Molken, pushing open the swing- pot Lucy came down in her bonnet and shawl. door of a publichouse.
She could not rest. She tossed and turned. What
could Thomas be about with that man? What misThe next morning Thomas made his appearance in chief might he not take him into? Good women, in the office at the usual hour, but his face was pale and their supposed ignorance of men's wickedness, are not
his eyes were red. His shirt-front was tumbled and unfrequently like the angels, in that they understand it i dirty, and he had nearly forty shillings in his pocket. perfectly, without the knowledge soiling one feather
He never looked up from his work, and now and then of their wings. They see it clearly-even from afar. pressed his hand to his head. This Mr. Stopper saw Now, although Lucy could not know so much of it as and enjoyed.
many are compelled to know, she had some acquaintance with the lowest castes of humanity, and the vice
of the highest is much the same as the vice of the WHEN Lucy left the room, with her lover-if lover lowest, only in general worse--more refined, and more he could be called-alone in it, her throat felt as if it detestable. So, by a natural process, without knowing wonld burst with the swelling of something like how, she understood something of the kind of gulf boudily grief. She did not know what it was, for she into which a man like Molken might lead Thomas, had never felt anything like it before. She thought she and she could not bear the thoughts that sprung out was going to die. Her grandmother could have told of this understunding. Hardly knowing what she ber that she would be a happy woman if she did not did, she got up and put on her bonnet and shawl, have such a swelling in her throat a good many times and went down stairs. without dying of it: but Lucy strove desperately to “Where on earth are you going, Lucy?" asked
hide it from her. She went to her own room and her grandmother, in some alarm. 1
threw herself on her bed, but started up again when Lucy did not know in the least what she meant to do. she heard the door bang, flew to the window, and She had had a vague notion of setting out to find saw all that passed between Molken and Thomas till Thomas somewhere, and rescue him from the grasp they left the court together. She had never seen of Moloch, but, save for the restlessness with which Molken so full in the face before; and whether it her misery filled her, she could never have enterwas from this full view, or that his face wore more tained the fancy. The moment her grandmother of the spider expression upon this occasion I do not asked her the question, she saw how absurd it would know-I incline to the latter, for I think that an be. Still she could not rest. So she invented an on-looker can read the expression of two counten- answer, and ordered her way according to her word. ances better, sometimes, than those engaged in con- “I'm going to see little Mattie,” she said. “The versation can read each other's however it was, child is lonely, and so am I. I will take her out for a she felt a dreadful repugnance to Molken from that walk.”
moment, and became certain that he was trying in “Do then, my dear. It will do you both good,” I some way or other to make his own out of Thomas. said the grandmother. “Only you must have a cup
With this new distress was mingled the kind, but of tea first.” mistaken self-reproach that she had driven him to it. Lucy drank her cup of tea, then rose, and went to Why should she not have borne with the poor boy, who the bookshop. Mr. Kitely was there alone. was worried to death between his father and mother “How's Mattie to-night, Mr. Kitely? Is she any and Mr. Stopper and that demon down there? He better, do you think?" she asked. would be all right if they would only leave him alone. “She's in the back room there. I'll call her," He was but a poor boy, and, alas! she had driven said the bookseller, without answering either of Lucy's him away from his only friend—for such she was sure questions. she was. She threw herself on her bed, but she could “Oh! I'll just go in to her. You wouldn't mind not rest. All the things in the room seemed pressing me taking her out for a little walk, would you ?” upon her, as if they had staring eyes in their heads; “Much obliged to you, miss,” returned the bookand there was no heart anywhere.
seller, heartily. “It's not much amusement the poor Her grandmother heard the door bang, and came in child has. I'm always meaning to do better for her, search of her.
but I'm so tied with the shop that, I don't know “What's the matter, my pet ?" she asked, as she hardly how it is, but somehow we go on the old way. entered the room and found her lying on her bed. She'll be delighted.”
“Oh, nothing, grannie,” answered Lucy, hardly Lucy went into the back parlour, and there sat knowing what she said.
Mattie, with her legs curled up beneath her on the "You've quarrelled with that shilly-shally beau of window-sill, reading a little book, thumbed and worn yours, I suppose. Well, let him go-he's not much." at the edges, and brown with dust and use.
“Well, Miss Burton," she cried, before Lucy had Before Lucy had finished reading the not very time to speak, “I've found something here. I think poetic lines, they had somehow or other reached her it's what people call poetry. I'm not sure; but I am heart. For they had one quality belonging to most sure it's good, whatever it is. Only I can't read it good poetry—that of directness or simplicity; and
Will you read it to me, please, miss? never does a mind like hers like hers, I mean, in I do like to be read to."
truthfulness-turn more readily towards the unseen, “I want you to come out for a walk with me, the region out of which even that which is seen Mattie,” said Lucy, who was in no humour for read- comes, than when a rain-cloud enwraps and hides the ing
world around it, leaving thus, as it were, only the Wise Mattie glanced up in her face. She had recog- passage upward open...She closed the little book nized the sadness in her tone.
gently, laid it down, got Mattie's bonnet, and heedless “Read this first, please, Miss Burton,” she said. of the remarks of the child upon the poem, put it on “I think it will do you good, Things will go wrong. her, and led her out. Her heart was too full to I'm sure it's very sad. And I don't know what's to speak. As they went through the shop : be done with the world. It's always going wrong. “A pleasant walk to you, ladies," said the bookIt's just like father's watch. He's always saying seller. there's something out of order in its inside, and he's “ Thank you, Mr. Kitely," returned his daughter, always a-taking of it to the doctor, as he calls the for Lucy could not yet speaki- Lii!! watchmaker to amuse me. Only I'm not very easy They had left Bagot Street, and were in one of the to amuse," reflected Mattie, with a sigh. “But,” she principal thoroughfares, before Lucy had got the resumed, “I wish I knew the doctor to set the world lump in her throat sufficiently swallowed to be able right. The clock o' St. Jacob's goes all right, but I'm to speak. She had not yet begun to consider where sure Mr. Potter ain't the doctor to set the world right, they should go. When they came out into the wider any more than Mr. Derry is for Mr. Kitely's watch.” street, the sun, now near the going down, was shining
The associations in Mattie's mind were not always golden through a rosy fog. Long shadows lay or very clear either to herself or other people: they fitted about over the level street. , Luoy had never were generally just notwithstanding. .
before taken any notice of the long shadows of over“But you have never been to Mr. Potter's church ing. Although she was a town-girl, and had there: to know, Mattie.”
fore had comparatively few chances, yet in such wide “Oh! haven't I just ? Times and times. Mr. streets as she had sometimes to traverse they were Spelt has been a-taking of me. I do believe mother not a rare sight. In the city, to be sturt, they are thinks I'm going to die, and wants to get me ready. much rarer. But the reason she saw them now wal. I wonder what it all means.
that her sorrowful heart saw the sorrowfulness of the “Nonsense, Mattie!” said Lucy, already turned a long shadows out of the rosy mist, and nude het little aside from her own sorrow by the words of the mind observe them. The sight brought the tean child. “You must put on your hat, and come out again into her eyes, and yet soothed her. They with me.”
looked so strange upon that wood-paved street, then “My bonnet, miss. Hats are only fit for very little they seemed to have wandered from some heathy girls. And I won't go till you read this poetry to moor and lost themselves in the labyrinth of the city me-if it be poetry.”'
Even more than the scent of the hay in the early Lucy took the book, and read. The verses were morning, floating into the silent streets from the fields as follow:
around London, are these long shadows to the lover As Christ went into Jericho-town,
nature, convincing him that what soems the und 'Twas darkness all, from toe to crown,
tural Babylon of artifice and untruth, is yet at least About blind Bartimeus. He said, Our eyes are more than dim,
within the region of nature, contained in her bosom, And so, of course, we don't see Him,
and subjected to her lovely laws; is on the earth as But David's Son can see us.
truly as the grassy field upon which the child soes with Cry out, cry out, blind brother, cry;
delighted awe his very own shadow stretch ont to such Let not salvation dear go by;
important, yea portentous length. Eron hither corde Have mercy, Son of David. Though they were blind, they both could hear
the marvels of ture's magic. Not all the commonThey heard, and cried, and he drew near;
places of ugly dwellings, and cheating shops that And so the blind were saved.
look ehurches in the face and are not ashamed, can O Jesus Christ, I'm deaf and blind,
shut out that which gives mystery to the glen fir Nothing comes through into my mind,
withdrawn, and loveliness to the mountain-side I only am not dumb. Although I see thee not, nor hear,
From this moment Lucy began to see and feel things I cry because thou may'st be near:
as she had never seen or felt them before. Har" O Son of David, come.
weeping had made way for a deeper spring in her A finger comes into my ear;
nature to flowa gain far more than sufficient to 16" A voice comes through the deafness drear: pay the loss of such a dover as Thomas, if indeed she
Poor eyes, no more be dim.
must lose him.
But Mattie saw the shadows too. 1 'Tis He, I follow him.
“Well, miss, who'd have thought of such a place