Part 15 (2/2)

At this moment a knock came at the door, and on going to open it, she found old Mrs. Seymour standing there with something in her hand.

”Mrs. Blunt,” she said, ”I guess you're wis.h.i.+n' as your husband had been with us this afternoon to have such a nice tea, now weren't you?”

Mrs. Blunt's colour rose, and she could have cried, she thought. At last she said, ”Why, how could you know that, Mrs. Seymour?”

”I've had a husband myself, my dear, and a steady one too, like yours, and so I've brought this bloater if you'll excuse it, just to make a little relish for his tea. He isn't in, is he?”

”No,” said Mrs. Blunt, ”but----”

”No 'buts,' my dear. Just you cook it for him and tell him to ask no questions about it, but enjoy it as much as we did our tea up yonder.”

She was gone before Mr. Blunt could say another word, and when she turned to the fire with her treasure, she thought she had never been so happy.

But were these tears that were coursing each other down her cheeks? How was that?

When her husband opened the door, expecting an untidy home and some dry bread, what was his astonishment to be greeted by an unusually cheerful-looking room, and a fragrant smell of frying fish.

His wife turned round with a smile.

”Here's a treat!” she said, ”and you're to ask no questions, but enjoy it. It ain't come out of our to-morrer's breakfast neither, so don't you think it; and I didn't buy it neither; so here it is smoking hot, and mind ye don't burn yerself.”

The man sat down in great wonder, first at the nice supper provided for him, and secondly at his wife's tone.

She, however, took no more notice, but shut herself in the next room with the little ones, where she quickly undressed them and put them to bed. When she returned again, the other children had gone out to play in the street, and Kittie was clearing away her father's tea.

The father sat by the fire smoking, and turned round on his wife's entrance to look in her face, as if to see if there were a change there.

But he saw nothing particular that he could fix upon, and he resumed his pipe in silence.

”Come, Kit,” said Mrs. Blunt, ”you and me 'ull get to that mending.

Jim's wearin' his best trousers 'cause we ain't done it.”

”But I don't know how,” said Kittie, none too willingly.

”Then I'll show yer. Come, Kit, be a good girl and do yer best. You've been taught yer needle, that's one good thing.”

”I wish I could leave school,” grumbled Kit, as she fumbled in her pocket for her thimble; ”there's lots o' girls as young as me has left.”

”Of course they 'ave! Them as is quick at their learning can leave sooner. I've telled you that a hundred times, but ye see ye haven't taken what I said.”

”I can't do no better,” answered Kittie, ”the lessons is so terrible hard.”

”Well, well,” answered the mother, more patiently than usual, ”perhaps the Lord can help you in your troubles as well as me. We'll see about it. You and me has a deal to learn, Kittie.”

Kittie knew that. She was always being told ”she had a deal to learn.”

The daily pressure on her mother, that would have been so lightened could she have left school, made the subject return again and again to worry her. Inattentive and careless, she thought she could do no better, and hopelessly gave the whole matter up as a bad job.

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