Part 86 (2/2)

'Yes, I have showed her some of those, and now I have brought her to see your part of the world.'

'It's not to call a part o' the world!' said the woman. 'Do you call this a part of the world, Mr. Dallas? I mind when I lived where trees grow, and there was primroses in the gra.s.s; them's happier that hasn't known it. If you axed me sometimes, I would tell you that this is h.e.l.l!

Yet it ain't so bad as most. It's what folk call very decent. Oh yes!

it's decent, it is, no doubt. I'll be carried out of it some day, and bless the day!'

'How is your boy?'

'He's fairly, sir, thank you.'

'No better?' said Pitt gently.

'He won't never be no better,' the woman said, with a doggedness which Betty guessed was a.s.sumed to hide the tenderer feeling beneath. 'He's done for. There ain't nothin' but ill luck comes upon folks as lives in such a hole, and couldn't other!'

'I'll come and see you about Tim,' said Pitt. 'Keep up a good heart in the mean while. Good-bye! I'll see you soon.'

He went no farther in that alley. He turned and brought Betty out, called another cab, and ordered the man to drive to Kensington Gardens.

Till they arrived there he would not talk; bade Betty wait with her questions. The way was long enough to let her think them all over several times. At last the cab stopped, Pitt handed her out, and led her into the Gardens. Here was a change. Trees of n.o.ble age and growth shadowed the ground, greensward stretched away in peaceful smoothness, the dust and the noise of the great city seemed to be escaped. It was fresh and shady, and even sweet. They could hear each other speak, without unduly raising their voices. Pitt went on till he found a place that suited him, and they sat down, in a refres.h.i.+ng greenness and quiet.

'Now,' said Betty, 'I suppose I may ask. What did you take me to that last place for?'

'That will appear in due time. What did you think of it?'

'It is difficult to tell you what I think of it. Is much of London like that?'

'Much of it is far worse.'

'Well, there is nothing like that in New York or Was.h.i.+ngton.'

'Do not be too sure. There is something like that wherever rich men are congregated in large numbers to live.'

'Rich men!' cried Betty.

'Yes. So far as I know, this sort of thing is to be found nowhere else, but where rich men dwell. It is the growth of their desire for large incomes. That woman we visited--what did you think of her?'

'She impressed me very much, and oddly. I could not quite read her look. She seemed to be in a manner hostile, not to you, but I thought to all the world beside; a disagreeable look!'

'She is a lace-mender'--

'A lace-mender!' broke in Betty. 'Down in that den of darkness?'

'And she pays-- Did you see where she lived?'

'I saw a room not bigger than a good-sized box; is that all?'

'There is an inner room--or box--without windows, where she and her child sleep. For that lodging that woman pays half-a-crown a week--that is, about five s.h.i.+llings American money--to one of the richest n.o.blemen in England.'

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