"You're right; I don't often turn out of nights; but I wanted to see my mother, and I find she's out."
"The very ticket! your wife won't be expecting you back just yet; and we want a sociable, sensible fellow like you at our workmen's club. You've promised me many a time to come and see us; now's your chance!" said the man, clapping him on the shoulder.
"I don't care if I do look in," said Richard after a moment's deliberation; "but I mustn't be late."
"Come along, then," answered the man, well pleased with the chance of introducing a manly fellow like Richard to his companions in the neighbouring tavern, where the meetings of the club were nightly held. Suffice it to say, that late that evening Richard was helped to the door of his home by some of its members, with the understanding that he was to be enrolled among their number on the following evening. It would take too long to picture Jane's distress when she met him after her long waiting and remorse. Her husband in such a condition, and none to blame but herself! She did not sleep that night, and in those dark hours she determined that the past should be retrieved. She watched him anxiously the next morning, but he never spoke, except to answer her questions in monosyllables. Long before his time for returning from work had arrived, the kitchen was spotlessly clean, the kettle singing on the shining grate, and Jane herself arrayed in a clean gown and new ribbon.
"Surely, he'll want to stay at home to-night, when he sees how pleasant everything looks again," said she to herself. When he came in, he took no apparent heed of his surroundings, but drank his tea in moody silence. When he had finished, he rose and took his hat, but Jane started up, crying:
"Oh, Richard, pray don't leave me again to-night! See how nice everything is, and I promise you it shall always be so."
"Don't take on so, lass," he said, touched by the sight of her tears; "I won't be long away, but I've made a promise, and must stick to it," and with that Jane had to be content. But though she watched until she grew weary he came not to cheer her loneliness. She had carelessly permitted him to leave her side, and now other influences were around him, and she must reap the consequences of her folly. From that time Jane's evenings were spent in solitude and tears. In vain she sought to keep her husband under the safe shelter of his own roof. When he would have yielded to her entreaties, his companions came and carried him away in triumph. Eventually, Jane grew resentful and careless, and when her first little one was born she had settled down to habitual neglect of her home and her own person. The responsibility of motherhood roused her to fresh efforts, which, if she had persevered in them, might have proved successful, but she soon relapsed into her slatternly ways, and was content to spend her days listlessly nursing her baby, and musing upon the wretchedness of her lot. At first Richard had taken considerable pride in the tiny atom of humanity which had found its way into the home; but baby came in for her share of neglect, and after a while her father took little notice of her.
"Poor little baby! your father doesn't care for you or me! He loves the drink and his public-house mates a deal better than the pair of us," sighed Jane many a time. Well, Jane, who sent him to the public-house to find friends and amusements, in the first place? You have no one to thank but yourself you know, or you might know, if you would care to think. But Jane seldom did think, and the gulf in the cottage home between husband and wife grew wider and deeper as the months and years rolled away. Children were born to their lot of misery and neglect, and Jane had hard work to fill their hungry mouths and cover their nakedness. Pitifully small grew the weekly sum which Richard brought home to meet the growing need of those who belonged to him. How else could it be when so large a portion of his hard-earned money went to support the wife and children of the thriving publican whose house Richard patronised every evening of the week?
"I don't know how you expect me to get bread and pay rent with that pittance," said Jane one Saturday evening as he threw a few shillings into her lap.
"If it isn't enough, why don't you go out, then, and earn for yourself, like many a better woman than you is doing?" he growled.