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Max s.h.i.+ngle hastily drew a cheque for ten pounds, blotted it, and pa.s.sed it over; for he knew only too well that his visitor would keep his word, and that he should be obliged to obey.
"That'll do--for the present," said Hopper, grinning, as he folded the cheque and placed it in his gouty pocket-book. Then he rose to go.
"Good-bye: G.o.d bless you, Max! What a good thing it is for me that I have a wealthy saint who can relieve my necessities! Thank you, my dearest and best friend. I sha'n't give you any acknowledgment, because I know you mean this for a gift. Good-bye."
"Good-bye," said Max, who could hardly contain his rage.
"Good-bye. And a word more from your conscience. Good advice, mind.
Look after Master Fred. Don't let him go your way."
"You've got your money. Now be silent!" cried Max, savagely.
"All right," said the old fellow; and he walked out, making his stick thump the floor, and nodding at Fred as he pa.s.sed through to the outer office; while Max, as soon as he was alone, ground his teeth with rage, as he heaped a series of very unchristianlike curses upon his visitor's head.
"Yes," he said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "he must be a devil, or he couldn't have known about Uncle Rounce."
VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER SIX.
THE FLY ON THE WALL.
"Well, mother, it might have been worse," said Richard, sitting down to his humble dinner about a week later. "Here, Jessie, pull my ears."
Jessie, who looked very pale and red-eyed, as if with weeping, went behind her father's chair, took hold of his ears playfully, and pulled them, while he drew one hand before his face.
"Will that do, dear?" she said, drawing his head back so that she could kiss his puzzled forehead.
"Beautiful, my darling! Nothing like it. Tightens the skin, and takes out all the wrinkles. Keeps you young-looking, and makes your wife fond of you. Don't it, mother?"
Mrs s.h.i.+ngle sighed, but looked at him affectionately, as she placed a spoon in the potatoes.
"That's right," said d.i.c.k. "Smiles is human suns.h.i.+ne, and don't cost anything. You both look as bright again to-day. Hallo! old fellow," he continued, thrusting a spoon into some hash. "Now, it won't do, you know. You can't deceive me, in spite of your brown gravy. You're that half-shoulder of mutton we had on Sunday."
"Yes, it is, d.i.c.k," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle.
"I knew it. Didn't he gape wide open as soon as I cut into him, and pretend that three people had been helped? Oh, I knew him again! Come, look bright, both of you: things might be worse. See how I'm trying to s.h.i.+ne! Come on: the best side of the looking-gla.s.s, both of you. The glue and wood will do for old Max."
In spite of his endeavours, the dinner was a sorry repast, the only one who enjoyed it being the boy; and as soon as it was cleared away, d.i.c.k and the others resumed their work.
"Do you really mean to go, d.i.c.k?" said his wife at last, after making three or four efforts to speak.
"Yes, certain!" he said; and he glanced at Jessie, who was just then looking at him, when both lowered their eyes directly.
"But how can we leave without paying?" Mrs s.h.i.+ngle ventured to say at last.
"Sell the furniture," said d.i.c.k bitterly. "There--it's no use, mother, I won't humble myself to him no more. I've as good as took a couple of rooms off St John Street, and go we will--for many reasons," he added.
"But, d.i.c.k dear--"
"Hold your tongue, mother!" he cried sternly. "I'm going to turn over a new leaf. Other folks make money; I'm going to make some now--somehow.
But I don't know how," he added to himself. "Now, you sir, get on-- we've got to make a fortune yet," he continued, hammering away; while Jessie's sewing machine clicked musically, and her little white-stockinged feet seemed to twinkle as they played up and down.
Mrs s.h.i.+ngle looked very much in trouble, for every now and then she wiped a furtive tear from her eye.
"How much money did you bring from the warehouse this morning, my gal?"
said d.i.c.k suddenly, as he looked up from playing cat's-cradle over a boot.
Jessie gazed at him in a frightened manner, and then dropped her head lower over her machine, while her hands trembled so that she could hardly direct her work.
"I say, Jessie, my gal, how much did you draw this morning?"
"None, father," said Jessie, with a sob. And then, covering her face with her hands, she burst into a pa.s.sion of weeping.
"Why, Jess, my gal--Jess!" cried d.i.c.k, dropping stirrup-leather and boot. "Here, you sir: here's a penny. Go down to Wilson's and get a pen'orth o' wax."
"But here is plenty, master," said the boy.
"Go down to Wilson's and get a pen'orth o' wax," said d.i.c.k sternly.
"Hadn't I better go to Singley's, sir? it ain't half so far."
"Go and get a pen'orth o' wax at Wilson's," said d.i.c.k angrily. And he saw the boy off the premises before he crossed to Jessie.
"Why, what's the matter, my pretty one?" he said tenderly.
"Oh, father dear, don't be cross with me," she sobbed. "I couldn't tell you before."
"Just as if your poor stoopid old goose of a father could be cross with you!" he said, fondling her and drawing her close to his heart. "At least," he added, "I could be cross, but not with anything you'd go and do. Now, then, what's the matter?"
"Oh, father, I can never go to the warehouse again."
"What?" said d.i.c.k; "not go--"
"No, father," she sobbed: "that man--"
She stopped short, and d.i.c.k, with his face working, patted her tenderly on the shoulder, and then rolled up his sleeves.
"It's only father, my precious: tell him all about it," he whispered.
As he spoke he made a sign to Mrs s.h.i.+ngle to be silent. "That man, father," she sobbed hysterically--"several times lately--insulted me-- dare not say anything--the money--you so poor, dear!"
"Jessie," cried d.i.c.k, in a choking voice, "my poor darling,--if I'd known!"
"Yes, father dear, I know," she cried, placing her arm round his neck and kissing him tenderly; "but you wanted the money so badly, I would not speak."
"But it was wrong, my darling," he said angrily. "But tell me--all."
"This morning--I went," she faltered, "and there was no one in the room, and he caught me in his arms--and kissed me," she sobbed, with her face like crimson. Then, indignantly, "I screamed out, and Tom--"
"Was Tom there?" cried d.i.c.k reproachfully.