Part 32 (2/2)
”Miss Payne, I really do wish to see something of the work on which your brother is engaged, and--forgive me if I seem obstinate--I am resolved to help him if I can.”
The result of the conversation was that the greater portion of the contents of Miss Liddell's purse was transferred to Bertie's, and he left them in high spirits, having arranged to call for Katherine the next day in order to escort her to the Children's Refuge and some other inst.i.tutions in which he took an interest.
From this time for several weeks Katherine was greatly occupied in the benevolent undertakings of her new friend. The endless need, the degradations of extreme poverty, the hopeless condition of such ma.s.ses of her fellow-creatures, depressed her beyond description. She would gladly have given to her uttermost farthing, but it would be a mere drop in the ocean of misery around.
”Even if we could supply their every want, and give each family a decent home,” she said to Bertie one evening as she walked back with him, ”they would not know how to keep it or to enjoy it. If the men, and the women too, have not the tremendous necessity to labor that they may live, they relax and become mere brutes. We must, above all things, educate them.”
”Yes, education is certainly necessary; but the most ignorant being who has laid hold on the Rock of Ages, who has received the spirit of adoption whereby he can cry, 'Abba, Father!' has a means of elevation and refinement beyond all that books and art can teach,” cried Bertie, with more warmth than he usually allowed himself to show.
”You believe that? I cannot say I do. We need other means of moral and intellectual life besides spiritualism. At least I have tried to be religious, but I always get weary.”
”That is only because you have not found the straight and true road,”
said Bertie, earnestly. ”Pray, my dear Miss Liddell--pray, and light will be given you.”
”Thank you--you are very good,” murmured Katherine ”At all events, though we can do but little, it is a comfort to help some of these poor creatures, especially the children and old people.”
”It is,” he returned. ”And if it be consolatory to minister to their physical wants, how much more to feed their immortal souls!”
Katherine was silent for a few minutes, and then said: ”It is impossible they can think much about their souls when they suffer so keenly in their bodies. Poverty and privation which destroy self-respect cannot allow of spiritual aspiration. Is it to be always like this--one cla.s.s steeped in luxury, the other grovelling in cruel want?”
”Our Lord says, 'Ye have the poor always with you,'” returned Bertie.
”Nor can we hope to see the curse of original sin lifted from life here below until the great manifestation; in short, till s.h.i.+loh come.”
”Do you think so? I do not like to think that Satan is too strong for G.o.d,” said Katherine, thoughtfully.
Bertie replied by exhorting her earnestly not to trust to mere human reason, to accept the infallible word of G.o.d, ”and so find safety and rest.” Katherine did not reply.
”I think you could help me in a difficult case,” said Bertie, a few days after this conversation.
”Indeed!” said Katherine, looking up from the book she was reading by the fire after dinner. ”What help can I possibly give?”
”Hear my story, and you will see.”
”I shall be most happy if I can help you. Pray go on.”
”You know Dodd, the porter and factotum at the Children's Refuge? Well, Dodd has a mother, a very respectable old dame, who keeps a very mild sweety shop, and also sells newspapers, etc. Mrs. Dodd, besides these sources of wealth, lets lodgings, and seems to get on pretty well. Now Dodd came to me in some distress, and said, 'Would you be so good, sir, as to see mother? she wants a word with you bad, very bad.' I of course said I was very ready to hear what she had to say. So I called at the little shop, which I often pa.s.s. I found the old lady in great trouble about a young woman who had been lodging with her for some time. She, Mrs. Dodd, did not know that her lodger was absolutely ill, but she scarcely eats anything, she never went out, she sometimes sat up half the night. Hitherto she had paid her rent regularly, but on last rent-day she had said she could only pay two weeks more, after which she supposed she had better go to the workhouse. When first she came she used to go out looking for work, but that ceased, and she seemed in a half-conscious state. As I was a charitable gentleman, would I go and speak to her? Well, rather reluctantly, I did. I went upstairs to a dreary back room, and found a decidedly lady-like young woman, neatly dressed enough, but ghastly white with dull eyes. She seemed to be dusting some books, but looked too weary to do much. She was not surprised or moved in any way at seeing me. When I apologized for intruding upon her, she murmured that I was very good. Then I asked if I could help her in any way. She thanked me, but suggested nothing. When I pressed her to express her needs, she said that life was not worth working for, but that she supposed they would give her something to do in the workhouse, and she would do it. As for seeking work, she could not, that she was a failure, and only cared not to trouble others. I was quite baffled. She was so quiet and gentle, and spoke with such refinement, that I was deeply interested. I called again this morning, and she would hardly answer me. As she is young (not a great deal older than yourself), perhaps a lady--a woman--might win her confidence. She seems to have been a dressmaker. Could you not offer her some employment, and draw her from the extraordinary lethargy which seems to dull her faculties? No mind can hold out against it; she will die or become insane.”
”It is very strange. I should be very glad to help her, but I feel afraid to attempt anything. I shall be so awkward. What can I say to begin with?”
”Your offering her work would make an opening. Do try. I am sure her case needs a woman's delicate touch.”
”I will do my best,” said Katherine. ”It all sounds terribly interesting. Shall I go to-morrow?”
”Yes, by all means. I am so very much obliged to you. I feel you will succeed.”
”Don't be too sure.”
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