'I don't know, George; but Australia can't be very large. I've done right to tell you, George, haven't I?'
'Yes, quite right.'
With that, they went into the house, and joined the party in the parlour. It was not a very merry one, and the conversation chiefly consisted of tender reminiscences and hopeful anticipation. George tried to be gay, but broke down, and if it had not been for old Ben Sparrow chirruping out a line of 'Cheer, boys, cheer, there's wealth for honest labour,' now and then, it would have been difficult to keep matters going. But a diversion was occasioned in the course of the evening by the arrival of young Mr. Million, who came in to shake hands with George, he said, and to wish him good-bye. George was sitting in the corner, with Tottie on his knee; the child was in a state of repletion, having feasted her full on the pleasures of the table, and was curled up in George's arms, feeling very sleepy. Bessie, sitting next to George (he had a spare arm for her waist, Tottie notwithstanding), cast strangely disturbed glances at her lover and the child, and her heart was bleeding from the wound inflicted upon it by what she had heard that afternoon. Every time George stooped and kissed Tottie, Bessie's wound opened, and she was almost distracted with doubt and grief and love. Young Mr. Million was very sunny and bright--a sunbeam lighting up the sad clouds. He gave just a glance at the earrings in Bessie's ears, and Bessie blushed as she rose to allow George to shake hands with him. No one saw the glance but Mrs. Naldret, and she looked gravely at Bessie. Young Mr. Million was profuse in his good wishes for George; he wished the young man all sorts of luck, and hoped he would soon be back. Every one was gratified at the heartiness with which young Mr. Million expressed his good wishes--every one but Mrs. Naldret; but then nothing seemed to please her to-night.
'I must drink your health, George,' said the young brewer.
Ben Sparrow asked him with a grand air whether he would take sherry wine or port, and he chose sherry, and said that Miss Sparrow should fill his glass for him. Bessie filled his glass and handed it to him with a bright flame in her cheeks; her hand shook, too, and a few drops of the wine were spilt upon the table, which young Mr. Million said gaily was a good omen.
'And here's good luck to you, George, and a prosperous voyage,' he said, and shook hands with George and wished him good-bye, and shook hands also with all in the room. Old Ben Sparrow looked at him very anxiously, and when the young prince with a quietly significant glance at the old man, proposed that Miss Sparrow should open the shop-door for him, Ben said, 'Yes, yes, certainly, sir,' and almost pushed Bessie into the shop. Now what made Mrs. Naldret open the parlour-door, and seat herself so that she could see the shop-door? It may have been done unconsciously, but certain it is that, seeing something pass between young Mr. Million and Bessie as they shook hands at the shop-door, she gave a sudden cry, as if overtaken by a spasm. Bessie ran in at the cry, and then Mrs. Naldret saw in one quick flash, what no one else saw (for Bessie slipped it into her pocket), a letter in Bessie's hand! The matron said it was nothing, merely a stitch in her side; and turned from the maid to her son, around whose neck she threw her arms, and kissed him again and again.
'Why, mother!' exclaimed George, for Mrs. Naldret was beginning to sob convulsively. 'Come, bear up, there's a dear soul! or we shall all be as bad as you!'
Mrs. Naldret repressed her sobs, and pressed him closer to her faithful breast, and whispered,
'Ah, George, there are a many women in the world for you, but there's only one mother!'
He whispered back to her, 'There's only one woman in the world for me, and that's my darling Bessie; and there is only one other who is as good as she is, and that's the mother I hold in my arms.'