LOSING SIGHT OF THE WELSH MOUNTAINS
Miss Benson continued in an undecided state of mind for the two next days;but on the third, as they sat at breakfast, she began to speak to her brother. "That young creature's name is Ruth Hilton." "Indeed! how did you find it out?" "From herself, of course. She is much stronger. I slept with her last night, and I was aware she was awake long before I liked to speak, but at last I began. I don't know what I said, or how it went on, but I think it was a little relief to her to tell me something about herself. She sobbed and cried herself to sleep; I think she is asleep now. "Tell me what she said about herself." "Oh, it was really very little; it was evidently a most painful subject.
She is an orphan, without brother or sister, and with a guardian, whom, I think she said, she never saw but once. He apprenticed her (after her father's death) to a dressmaker. This Mr. Bellingham got acquainted with her, and they used to meet on Sunday afternoons. One day they were late, lingering on the road, when the dressmaker came up by accident. She seems to have been very angry, and not unnaturally so. The girl took fright at her threats, and the lover persuaded her to go off with him to London, there and then. Last May, I think it was. That's all." "Did she express any sorrow for her error?" "No, not in words; but her voice was broken with sobs, though she tried to make it steady. After a while she began to talk about her baby, but shyly, and with much hesitation. She asked me, how much I thought she could earn as a dressmaker, by working very, very hard; and that brought us round to her child. I thought of what you had said, Thurstan, and I tried to speak to her as you wished me. I am not sure if it was right; I am doubtful in my own mind still." "Don't be doubtful, Faith! Dear Faith, I thank you for your kindness." "There is really nothing to thank me for. It is almost impossible to help being kind to her; there is something so meek and gentle about her, so patient, and so grateful!" "What does she think of doing?" "Poor child! she thinks of taking lodgings--very cheap ones, she says;there she means to work night and day to earn enough for her child. For she said to me; with such pretty earnestness, 'It must never know want, whatever I do. I have deserved suffering, but it will be such a little innocent darling!' Her utmost earnings would not be more than seven or eight shillings a week, I'm afraid; and then she is so young and so pretty!" "There is that fifty pounds Mrs. Morgan brought me, and those two letters.
Does she know about them yet?" "No; I did not like to tell her till she is a little stronger. Oh, Thurstan!
I wish there was not this prospect of a child. I cannot help it. I do--Icould see a way in which we might help her, if it were not for that." "How do you mean?" "Oh, it's no use thinking of it, as it is! Or else we might have taken her home with us, and kept her till she had got a little dress****** in the congregation, but for this meddlesome child; that spoils everything.
You must let me grumble to you, Thurstan. I was very good to her, and spoke as tenderly and respectfully of the little thing as if it were the Queen's, and born in lawful matrimony." "That's right, my dear Faith! Grumble away to me, if you like. I'll forgive you, for the kind thought of taking her home with us. But do you think her situation is an insuperable objection?" "Why, Thurstan!--it's so insuperable, it puts it quite out of the question." "How?--that's only repeating your objection. Why is it out of the question?" "If there had been no child coming, we might have called her by her right name--Miss Hilton; that's one thing. Then, another is, the baby in our house. Why, Sally would go distraught!" "Never mind Sally. If she were an orphan relation of our own, left widowed,"said he, pausing as if in doubt. "You yourself suggested she should be considered as a widow, for the child's sake. I'm only taking up your ideas, dear Faith. I respect you for thinking of taking her home; it is just what we ought to do. Thank you for reminding me of my duty." "Nay, it was only a passing thought. Think of Mr. Bradshaw. Oh! I tremble at the thought of his grim displeasure." "We must think of a higher than Mr. Bradshaw. I own I should be a very coward if he knew. He is so severe, so inflexible. But after all he sees so little of us; he never comes to tea, you know, but is always engaged when Mrs. Bradshaw comes. I don't think he knows of what our household consists." "Not know Sally? Oh yes, but he does. He asked Mrs. Bradshaw one day if she knew what wages we gave her, and said we might get a far more efficient and younger servant for the money. And, speaking about money, think what our expenses would be if we took her home for the next six months." That consideration was a puzzling one; and both sat silent and perplexed for a time. Miss Benson was as sorrowful as her brother, for she was becoming as anxious as he was to find it possible that her plan could be carried out "There's the fifty pounds," said he, with a sigh of reluctance at the idea. "Yes, there's the fifty pounds," echoed his sister, with the same sadness in her tone. "I suppose it is hers." "I suppose it is; and, being so, we must not think who gave it to her.
