Part 15 (2/2)

”I don't know, ma'am,” answered Juliet.

”I have heard a good deal about them from Mrs. Rowles. Your father would have better health if he lived in the country.”

By this time they had reached No. 103. Juliet's heart was beating at the sight of the well-known door-step of her home. She forgot all about Mrs. Webster, and ran on. There were lots of boys and girls playing in the street; some called out to her, some stared at Mrs.

Webster. But Juliet took no notice; only ran on, climbed up the dear old dirty, steep stairs without bannisters, and got to the door of the back attic, followed closely by her companion.

The girl did not knock, but rushed in, and then stood aghast. A strange woman was there but no one else.

”Where is mother?” cried Juliet.

”Whose mother?” responded the strange woman.

”My mother.”

”Ain't she got e'er a name?”

”Yes; she's Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l.”

”Oh, the Mitch.e.l.l lot has gone into the front room, if you please.

Going up again in the world, I can tell you.”

Juliet turned and dashed into the front room. There she found another surprise.

Her father lay sleeping; her mother was sewing at some black hats and bits of c.r.a.pe. The other children, all but Albert, stood round about the room; some crying silently, some watching their mother, who paused every now and then in her work to wipe away tears which quickly returned.

But there was one whom Juliet missed.

”Mother,” she said, as Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l's arms clasped closely round her, ”where is baby?”

Tears poured down from the mother's eyes. ”Oh, baby, baby, our darling baby is gone! He was took with the croup yesterday morning, and he just went off in the evening. There was too many of you, and now he's gone!”

A sad silence fell upon the room. Thomas Mitch.e.l.l moaned in his sleep, as if his dreams were painful. Outside in the street there was a sound of angry voices--two women quarrelling. Mrs. Webster had once had a baby of her own; it had died. She felt, she knew, all that Mrs.

Mitch.e.l.l was feeling now.

The bits of black on which the mother was at work were poor and skimpy, but they betokened a real sorrow. And though Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l knew that the ”home for little children” was far, far better for them than the busy, hard world, yet she could not bring her heart to be thankful that baby was taken; all that she could say was, ”Thy will be done!”

In the mortuary belonging to the church lay the little, thin, pale body of baby Thomas Mitch.e.l.l. Life, though short, had been very hard for him, and he had gone out of it at the first call from his Father in heaven--at the first sound of that voice which is sweeter and more drawing than the voice of a mother.

Other children had gone before him; but because he was the baby his loss was more acutely felt than that of the others had been. Juliet sat and thought of the many times she had b.u.mped his tender head against the wall, and how often she had let him slip off her lap, or left him lying in the rain or in the fierce suns.h.i.+ne. And now the darling baby had died, and she away from home! She had not watched his last sigh, she had not given him one farewell kiss! Already he was in his tiny coffin, and she would never in this life see him again, save in those blessed dreams which now and then restore to us for a time our loved and lost ones.

Juliet could not have explained--perhaps it could not be explained--how it was that the death of baby during her absence seemed to be connected with her bad conduct. It is certain that this sudden shock affected her greatly. It was, as it were, a break in her life; her old ill-tempered, unteachable childhood went into the past, and a gentle womanhood sprang up in the future. For the present there was a sad, humble, penitent girl.

When she began once more to know what was going on in that room, she found that Mrs. Webster was telling Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l, in very mild terms, of the reasons why Juliet was sent home.

”I am quite a stranger,” said the lady, ”and I feel myself an intruder in your time of sorrow. You have my deepest sympathy. And I trust that Juliet will henceforth do better. She has had some severe lessons. Do you think your husband would be stronger if he lived in the country?”

”Yes, ma'am; the doctor at the dispensary says that country air would do wonders for him. But then he can't leave his work; it is no use to live in the country and have a good appet.i.te if you have no means of getting victuals for your appet.i.te.”

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