You dont mean that! she exclaimed, looking over her shoulder. Why, its the fifth time, aint it?
It is indeed, and worse to get through every time. We didnt expect shed ever be able to walk again last autumn.
Dear, dear! what a thing them rheumatics is, to be sure! And youve heard about Dick, havent you?
Heard what?
Oh, I thought maybe it had got to you. Hes lost his work, thats all.
Lost his work? the girl repeated, with dismay. Why?
Why? What else had he to expect? Taint likely theyll keep a man as goes about making all his mates discontented and calling his employers names at every street corner. Ive been looking for it every week. Yesterday one of the guvnors calls him up and tells himjust in a few civil wordsas perhaps it ud be better for all parties if hed find a place where he was more satisfied. Well an good, says Dickyou know his wayand there he is.
The girl had seated herself, and listened to this story with downcast eyes. Courage seemed to fail her; she drew a long, quiet sigh. Her face was of the kind that expresses much sweetness in irregular features. Her look was very honest and gentle, with pathetic meanings for whoso had the eye to catch them; a peculiar mobility of the lips somehow made one think that she had often to exert herself to keep down tears. She spoke in a subdued voice, always briefly, and with a certain natural refinement in the use of uncultured language. When Mrs. Mutimer ceased, Emma kept silence, and smoothed the front of her jacket with an unconscious movement of the hand.
Mrs. Mutimer glanced at her and showed commiseration.
Well, well, dont you worrit about it, Emma, she said; youve quite enough on your hands. Dick dont carenot he; he couldnt look more high-flyin if someone had left him a fortune. He says its the best thing as could happen. Nay, I cant explain; hell tell you plenty soon as he gets in. Cut yourself some meat, child, do, and dont wait for me to help you. See, Ill turn you out some potatoes; you dont care for the greens, I know.
The fry had hissed vigorously whilst this conversation went on; the results were brown and unctuous.
Now, if it aint too bad! cried the old woman, losing self-control. That Arry gets later every Sunday, and he knows very well as I have to wait for the beer till he comes.
Ill fetch it, said Emma, rising.
You indeed! Id like to see Dick if he caught me a-sending you to the public-house.
He wont mind it for once.
You get on with your supper, do. Its only my fidgetiness; I can do very well a bit longer. And Alice, wheres she off to, I wonder? What it is to have a girl that age! I wish they was all like you, Emma. Get on with your supper, I tell you, or youll make me angry. Now, it aint no use taking it to eart in that way. I see what youre worritin over. Dick aint the man to be out o work long.
But wont it be the same at his next place? Emma inquired. She was trying to eat, but it was a sad pretence.
Nay, theres no telling. Its no good my talkin to him. Why dont you see what you can do, Emma? Taint as if hed no one but his own self to think about Dont you think you could make him see that? If anyone has a right to speak, its you. Tell him as hed ought to have a bit more thought. Its wait, wait, wait, and likely to be if things go on like this. Speak up and tell him as
Oh, I couldnt do that! murmured Emma. Dick knows best.
She stopped to listen; there was a noise above as of people entering the house.
Here they come at last, said Mrs. Mutimer. Hear him laughin? Now, dont you be so ready to laugh with him. Let him see as it aint such good fun to everybody.
Heavy feet tramped down the stone stairs, amid a sound of loud laughter and excited talk. The next moment the kitchen door was thrown open, and two young men appeared. The one in advance was Richard Mutimer; behind him came a friend of the family, Daniel Dabbs.
Well, what do you think of this? Richard exclaimed as he shook Emmas hands rather carelessly. Mother been putting you out of spirits, I suppose? Why, its grand; the best thing that could have happened! What a meeting weve had to-night! What do you say, Dan?
Richard representedtoo favourably to make him anything but an exceptionthe best qualities his class can show. He was the English artisan as we find him on rare occasions, the issue of a good strain which has managed to procure a sufficiency of food for two or three generations. His physique was admirable; little short of six feet in stature, he had shapely shoulders, an erect well-formed head, clean strong limbs, and a bearing which in natural ease and dignity matched that of the picked men of the upper classthose fine creatures whose career, from public school to regimental quarters, is one exclusive course of bodily training. But the comparison, on the whole, was to Richards advantage. By no possibility could he have assumed that aristocratic vacuity of visage which comes of carefully induced cerebral atrophy. The air of the workshop suffered little colour to dwell upon his cheeks; but to features of so pronounced and intelligent a type this pallor added a distinction. He had dark brown hair, thick and long, and a cropped beard of hue somewhat lighter. His eyes were his motherskeen and direct; but they had small variety of expression; you could not imagine them softening to tenderness, or even to thoughtful dreaming. Terribly wide awake, they seemed to be always looking for the weak points of whatever they regarded, and their brightness was not seldom suggestive of malice. His voice was strong and clear; it would ring out well in public places, which is equivalent to saying that it hardly invited too intimate conference. You will take for granted that Richard displayed, alike in attitude and tone, a distinct consciousness of his points of superiority to the men among whom he lived; probably he more than suspected that he could have held his own in spheres to which there seemed small chance of his being summoned.
Just now he showed at once the best and the weakest of his points. Coming in a state of exaltation from a meeting of which he had been the eloquent hero, such light as was within him flashed from his face freely; all the capacity and the vigour which impelled him to strain against the strait bonds of his lot set his body quivering and made music of his utterance. At the same time, his free movements passed easily into swagger, and as he talked on, the false notes were not few. A working man gifted with brains and comeliness must, be sure of it, pay penalties for his prominence.
Quite another man was Daniel Dabbs: in him you saw the proletarian pure and simple. He was thick-set, square-shouldered, rolling in gait; he walked with head bent forward and eyes glancing uneasily, as if from lack of self-confidence. His wiry black hair shone with grease, and no accuracy of razor-play would make his chin white. A man of immense strength, but bull-necked and altogether ungainlyhis heavy fist, with its black veins and terrific knuckles, suggested primitive methods of settling dispute; the stumpy fingers, engrimed hopelessly, and the filthy broken nails, showed how he wrought for a living. His face, if you examined it without prejudice, was not ill to look upon; there was much good humour about the mouth, and the eyes, shrewd enough, could glimmer a kindly light His laughter was roof-shakingalways a good sign in a man.
And what have you got to say of these fine doings, Mr. Dabbs? Mrs. Mutimer asked him.