Part 4 (2/2)
”That was only when Miss Sutton walked on baby.”
”Poor little fellow! How did that happen?”
”Oh, I don't know; he just slipped off my lap at the very moment that she was coming out. He's not hurt.”
Mrs. Rowles picked up the baby to make sure that he was not injured, and found no mark or bruise.
”But his spine might be hurt, or his brain, without there being any outside mark. I am afraid you are very careless.”
”Yes, I am. I don't care about nothing.”
”Now, that's not at all pretty of you, Juliet.”
”Don't want it to be pretty.”
”And it's not kind and nice.”
”Don't want to be kind and nice.”
”And I am afraid people will not love you if you go on like this.”
”Don't want people to love me.”
Mrs. Rowles knew not how to soften this hard heart. ”Juliet, don't you want to help your sick father and your hard-working mother, and all your hungry little brothers and sisters?”
”No, I don't. I want to go away from them. I want to have mutton-chops and rice puddings like we used to have when there was not so many of us; and merino frocks, and new boots with elastic sides; and the Crystal Palace.”
”Oh, you would like to leave home?”
”Yes, I would. They worrit me, and I worrit them.”
”Oh, poor child, poor child!”
The kind-hearted Emma Rowles made curious little noises with her tongue and her teeth, and toiled again up the staircase with baby in her arms, and Juliet silently following as she went. Mrs. Rowles framed short, unworded prayers for guidance at this present crisis; and when she stood again in her sister-in-law's room her resolve was taken.
She put the baby into his father's arms.
”There, Thomas, I do hope you will get about soon. Do you think your trade is a healthy one? My Ned, he always says that it is bad to work by night, and bad to sleep by day, says he.”
”Emma Rowles,” was Mitch.e.l.l's sharp rejoinder, ”does your Ned ever read a newspaper?”
”Yes, most every day. Them pa.s.sing through the lock often give him a _Standard_ or a _Telegraph_.”
”Then he'd better not find fault with the printers. If the public would be content with evening papers, we printers might keep better hours.”
”There now!” said Mrs. Rowles, venturing on a short laugh ”Do you know, I never thought of when the morning papers get printed.”
”There's a many as thoughtless as you, and more so.”
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