Mary made it a rule to tell us when she heard from him, and consulted mother what to do when he wanted more money. She said mother was so wonderful clear and sensible on all points of right and wrong, and whether one ought or oughtn't to do a thing. There was a weakness, it is true; but the weakness didn't touch that. And it was hard for Mary to judge, being pulled by her love for Walter, and yet knowing that the more she helped him the more reckless he grew.
I suppose the "few hundreds" that came with his wife were soon run through. Then he got some sort of situation, and lost it, nobody knew how; but Mary had a pretty clear inkling that it was the old trouble: he couldn't be trusted. And he got another and much poorer situation, and lost that too.
So then he said he would be off to Canada, which was a good thing for Mary and us, but for nobody else. A man that can't succeed in England, because of his unsteadiness and want of right principle, isn't like to do better beyond seas. Why should he? Crossing the ocean don't put right principle nor dependableness into a man!
However, it was settled he should go with his wife and baby—poor little one, to have only such a father to depend on! I couldn't help thinking how different my case had been!
Mary was to give a good big sum out of her hard-won earnings to help them out. Walter wrote lots of letters, full of promises; and Mary sighed over the promises, knowing how little they were worth. What could one expect from a man who would say anything that was convenient at any time, and never trouble himself to keep his word?
We didn't suppose he would come to see Mary before he went, but he did. She had given him so much money, she couldn't afford to go to him; and indeed mother and I hoped they would not meet, for there could be only pain for Mary in seeing him.
Mother could bear to hear Walter's name by this time, near upon three years having gone since father's death; but still she never talked of him without a sort of shudder. I suppose that was the reason why, when Mary heard from Walter that he meant to look in on a certain day, she didn't tell mother nor me a word about it. She only settled for us to go out for a walk. I couldn't think why she was so bent on that, making me leave the sleeve I'd nearly finished, and refusing any delay.
As it happened, never knowing or suspecting that Walter was to be in Redland that day, mother and I for once went towards Bristol, instead of on the Downs. Most likely Mary hadn't a doubt that we should choose the Downs. We didn't, though, for it was close upon Mary's birthday, and mother wanted to choose a present.
So we walked down Park Street, and into College Green, and spent a good while looking into the shop windows. Mother had a difficulty in making up her mind what to get, which wasn't like to herself in old days; and I had to help her, and yet seem to leave her free.
At last it was all settled, and we were coming slowly back along the White Ladies Road, having reached a quiet part not far from home, when all at once I saw Walter Russell bearing down upon us at full speed, like a steam-engine.