“I run over to see her sometimes,” continued old Nurse, “and take her a morsel of something, but it beats me to understand how those people live. There’s five children, and the only person earning anything, laid on her back.”
“Don’t they get parish relief?” inquired Miss Unity with a look of distress. “They ought to have an allowance from the sick fund. Who visits them?”
“It’s my belief,” said old Nurse lowering her voice, “that no one ever goes nigh them at all. You see, Miss, the husband takes more than is good for him, and then he gets vi’lent and uses bad language. Of course the ladies who visit don’t like that.”
“I can quite understand it,” said Miss Unity, drawing herself up.
“Of course you can, Miss,” said old Nurse soothingly. “Now I don’t mind him at all myself. I don’t take any count of what he says, and I always think ‘hard words break no bones;’ but it’s different for such as you.”
“Who looks after the poor thing while she’s so ill and helpless?” asked Miss Unity, taking out her purse.
“That’s the wonder of it,” said Nurse. “The eldest’s a girl of Miss Pennie’s age, but not near so big. That child would shame many grown-up people, Miss, by the way she carries on. Nurses her mother and looks after the children, (there’s a baby in arms), and she’s on her feet from morning till night. If it wasn’t for Kettles they’d all have been in the workhouse long ago.”
Miss Unity here offered some money, but Nurse shook her head sagely.
“No use to give ’em money, Miss. He’d get hold of it and drink it in no time.”
“Well, you must spend it for the poor woman in the way you think best,” said Miss Unity, “and let me know when you want more.”