My good woman, I said, who can have taken all that from you? surely nobody can be so cruel?
You say it's cruel! she cried with a sort of triumph. Oh, I knowed you would, or any true gentleman that don't hold with screwing poor folks. Just go and say that to him inside there, for the love of God. Tell him to think what he's doing, driving poor creatures to despair. Summer's coming, the Lord be praised, but yet it's bitter cold at night with your counterpane gone; and when you've been working hard all day, and nothing but four bare walls to come home to, and all your poor little sticks of furniture that you've saved up for, and got together one by one, all gone and you no better than when you started, or rather worse, for then you was young. Oh, sir! the woman's voice rose into a sort of passionate wail. And then she added, beseechingly, recovering herself Oh, speak for us he'll not refuse his own son
To whom am I to speak? who is it that has done this to you? I said.
The woman hesitated again, looking keenly in my face then repeated with a slight faltering, It's Mr. Philip? as if that made everything right.
Yes; I am Philip Canning, I said; but what have I to do with this? and to whom am I to speak?
She began to whimper, crying and stopping herself. Oh, please, sir! it's Mr. Canning as owns all the house property about it's him that our court and the lane and everything belongs to. And he's taken the bed from under us, and the baby's cradle, although it's said in the Bible as you're not to take poor folks's bed.
My father! I cried in spite of myself then it must be some agent, some one else in his name. You may be sure he knows nothing of it. Of course I shall speak to him at once.
Oh, God bless you, sir, said the woman. But then she added, in a lower tone It's no agent. It's one as never knows trouble. It's him that lives in that grand house. But this was said under her breath, evidently not for me to hear.
Morphew's words flashed through my mind as she spoke. What was this? Did it afford an explanation of the much occupied hours, the big books, the strange visitors? I took the poor woman's name, and gave her something to procure a few comforts for the night, and went indoors disturbed and troubled. It was impossible to believe that my father himself would have acted thus; but he was not a man to brook interference, and I did not see how to introduce the subject, what to say. I could but hope that, at the moment of broaching it, words would be put into my mouth, which often happens in moments of necessity, one knows not how, even when one's theme is not so all-important as that for which such help has been promised. As usual, I did not see my father till dinner. I have said that our dinners were very good, luxurious in a simple way, everything excellent in its kind, well cooked, well served, the perfection of comfort without show which is a combination very dear to the English heart. I said nothing till Morphew, with his solemn attention to everything that was going, had retired and then it was with some strain of courage that I began.
I was stopped outside the gate to-day by a curious sort of petitioner a poor woman, who seems to be one of your tenants, sir, but whom your agent must have been rather too hard upon.
My agent? who is that? said my father, quietly.
I don't know his name, and I doubt his competence. The poor creature seems to have had everything taken from her her bed, her child's cradle.
No doubt she was behind with her rent.
Very likely, sir. She seemed very poor, said I.
You take it coolly, said my father, with an upward glance, half-amused, not in the least shocked by my statement. But when a man, or a woman either, takes a house, I suppose you will allow that they ought to pay rent for it.
Certainly, sir, I replied, when they have got anything to pay.
I don't allow the reservation, he said. But he was not angry, which I had feared he would be.
I think, I continued, that your agent must be too severe. And this emboldens me to say something which has been in my mind for some time (these were the words, no doubt, which I had hoped would be put into my mouth; they were the suggestion of the moment, and yet as I said them it was with the most complete conviction of their truth) and that is this: I am doing nothing; my time hangs heavy on my hands. Make me your agent. I will see for myself, and save you from such mistakes; and it will be an occupation
Mistakes? What warrant have you for saying these are mistakes? he said testily; then after a moment: This is a strange proposal from you, Phil. Do you know what it is you are offering? to be a collector of rents, going about from door to door, from week to week; to look after wretched little bits of repairs, drains, etc.; to get paid, which, after all, is the chief thing, and not to be taken in by tales of poverty.
Not to let you be taken in by men without pity, I said.
He gave me a strange glance, which I did not very well understand, and said, abruptly, a thing which, so far as I remember, he had never in my life said before, You've become a little like your mother, Phil
My mother! The reference was so unusual nay, so unprecedented that I was greatly startled. It seemed to me like the sudden introduction of a quite new element in the stagnant atmosphere, as well as a new party to our conversation. My father looked across the table, as if with some astonishment at my tone of surprise.
Is that so very extraordinary? he said.
No; of course it is not extraordinary that I should resemble my mother. Only I have heard very little of her almost nothing.
That is true. He got up and placed himself before the fire, which was very low, as the night was not cold had not been cold heretofore at least; but it seemed to me now that a little chill came into the dim and faded room. Perhaps it looked more dull from the suggestion of a something brighter, warmer, that might have been. Talking of mistakes, he said, perhaps that was one: to sever you entirely from her side of the house. But I did not care for the connection. You will understand how it is that I speak of it now when I tell you He stopped here, however, said nothing more for a minute or so, and then rang the bell. Morphew came, as he always did, very deliberately, so that some time elapsed in silence, during which my surprise grew. When the old man appeared at the door Have you put the lights in the drawing-room, as I told you? my father said.
Yes, sir; and opened the box, sir; and it's a it's a speaking likeness
This the old man got out in a great hurry, as if afraid that his master would stop him. My father did so with a wave of his hand.
That's enough. I asked no information. You can go now.
The door closed upon us, and there was again a pause. My subject had floated away altogether like a mist, though I had been so concerned about it. I tried to resume, but could not. Something seemed to arrest my very breathing: and yet in this dull respectable house of ours, where everything breathed good character and integrity, it was certain that there could be no shameful mystery to reveal. It was some time before my father spoke, not from any purpose that I could see, but apparently because his mind was busy with probably unaccustomed thoughts.
You scarcely know the drawing-room, Phil, he said at last.
Very little. I have never seen it used. I have a little awe of it, to tell the truth.