How low Richard had sunk! But he had only gone down one step at a time.
"And who'd look after your children, I'd like to know, while their mother's away slaving?" retorted his wife.
"Precious little looking after such dirty brats want. Something to eat once or twice a day, and mud to make pies of, and they're enough like their dirty mother to be satisfied," said Richard, scowling in disgust at his miserable-looking wife, who replied:
"I'm a good match for you, whatever you may say, although I should be sorry to have your red nose and bleared eyes." Richard muttered an oath, and his wife disappeared, having gone as far as she deemed prudent.
"I've a good mind to go out cleaning after all. It's a new idea. I can't sit in the house, and fold my arms in idleness while the children want bread," said Jane to herself that evening. "It's true enough that the children don't want much looking after. I dare say Mrs. Jones would take baby and give the others their food for a few pence, if I could get work."
"I declare I'll do it!" she presently decided.
There was little difficulty in getting work, and for her children's sake Jane worked as she had never done before. With the continual strain on body and mind she grew prematurely old and worn; but there was no help for it. She must work now until all strength failed, for Richard's money ceased altogether, and the children were wholly dependent upon her exertions.
One day she went to a new place to which she had been recommended by one of her constant employers. Whilst she was cleaning a window in the room where the mistress of the house was seated at work, the lady commenced a conversation. Usually reticent about her own affairs, Mrs. Martyn's gentleness touched Jane's desolate spirit, and the story of her wretchedness was soon told.
"Were you happy when you were first married?" Mrs. Martyn inquired, and was startled by the vehement answer:
"Oh, yes, ma'am, as happy as the day was long! My husband was so good, and always spent his evenings at home. Ah, we were happy!"