London's Heart: A Novel

by B. L. Farjeon

"Have you any other friends besides Some One?"

"Yes, there's Mary, and my best friend, my aunt. She has been very kind to me, and must come and see me too. Indeed, I must ask her permission, for she has been like a mother to me. Mother! ah, to have a good kind mother to love, and who loves you--what happiness! I have dreamt of it often--have wished that such a happiness was mine. But it never was, daddy--never, never was, and never, never can be!"

"Lizzie," he said timidly, "tell me something of your life before I knew you."

In their new relations towards each other she had seated herself at his feet. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and her eyes were towards the flowers in her breast. Graceful as the leaves of the flowers was this young girl; not more delicate was their colour than the colour in her face. The tender contact of this fresh young life was a new revelation to him, and he held his breath for fear he should awake and find that he was dreaming.

"Of my life!" she mused, speaking more to herself than to him. "What can I remember? How young was I as I see myself, in my first remembrance, playing with two other children in a field near the house in which I lived? Two years, or a little more. The house belonged to Mrs. Dimmock, and I did not know then that she was not my mother; but as I grew I learned--I don't know how; it wasn't told me, but the knowledge came--that the little girls I played with were not my sisters, although they were her children. Mrs. Dimmock was not a very kind woman, at least not to me. She would pet and fondle her own children, and I used to cry in secret because of it, and because she did not love me as she did them. My aunt came to see me often, and often brought me toys and sweets. If she had been my mother she could not have been kinder to me, but then of course I should have lived with her. She saw that I fretted because it wasn't the same with me as it was with the other children, and she tried in every way to make up for it; but she couldn't. What I wanted was a mother that I could love with all my heart, and who could love me with all hers--as Mrs. Dimmock loved her children, although she was harsh and unkind to me. My aunt did not know that she did not treat me well; I didn't tell her. When I grew up, I went to a day-school, and learnt other things besides reading and writing; I think it was in that way, trying to make me superior to other girls, that my aunt endeavoured to lessen any sorrow I may have felt. I can play the piano, daddy--you wouldn't have thought that, would you! Mrs. Dimmock was jealous, I could see, because I was learning more than her girls; and the girls, too, didn't like it. I think it was partly maliciousness on my part that made me proud to know more than they did; if they had been kind to me, I shouldn't have cared to triumph over them in that way. Well, everything went on so until I was fourteen years of age, when one day something occurred. I hadn't been expected home so soon; the street-door was open, and as I went into the passage I heard my aunt and Mrs. Dimmock speaking together, and from my aunt's voice I guessed that she was crying. 'I can't help your misfortunes,' Mrs. Dimmock said; 'I've got children of my own, and I must look after them first. I'm keeping the girl now for less than her food costs; she eats more than my two girls put together.' I knew that she meant me by 'the girl,' and I turned hot and cold, for I felt like a charity girl. Mrs. Dimmock spoke very spitefully, and I knew that she did so because I gave myself superior airs over her daughters. I daresay it was wrong of me to do so, but I couldn't help it, they were such mean things! One of them let a girl in school be beaten for something that she did, and I knew it. But we used to quarrel about all sorts of things, and of course Mrs. Dimmock always took their parts, so that you may guess, daddy, I was not very happy. I heard sufficient of the conversation between my aunt and Mrs. Dimmock to make me tingle all over. It served me right, for listeners never do hear any good of themselves; but it was as well I did hear, notwithstanding, as you will see presently. My aunt was in arrears for my board and lodging, and she was compelled to hear patiently--for my sake, I felt it!--all the hard things that Mrs. Dimmock said to her. 'I shall be able to pay you by and by,' my aunt said, O, so humbly! 'I can't afford to wait till by and by, ma'am,' Mrs. Dimmock answered, 'and I can't live on promises--they're like pie-crusts, made to be broken. It is a shame that such a big girl as her should be eating charity bread.' Just think, daddy, how I felt when I heard that! 'If she can't pay for her bread-and-butter, let her work for it, if she ain't too fine and proud. If she wants to live on charity, she must go somewhere else and get it; I can't afford to give it to her.' I think, daddy, that if I had been on fire, I. couldn't have run out of the house faster than I did. I had an idea at first of running clean away, but the thought of how kind my aunt had been to me prevented me. Instead of that, I watched for her, and saw her come out of the house and look anxiously about for me. She was always very pale, but her face was whiter than I had ever seen it before. She brightened up when she saw me, and I drew her a long way from the house before I would let her talk. When she began, how I pitied her! She couldn't get along at all, and would have gone away without telling me anything, if I hadn't said that I was in the passage and heard her and Mrs. Dimmock speaking together about me. She looked so frightened when I told her, that I was frightened myself; she was dreadfully anxious to know all that I had heard, and seemed to be relieved that I hadn't heard any more. I supposed that Mrs. Dimmock had been saying worse things of me than I had already heard, and I wasn't sorry that I went out of the house when I did. 'And so you are poor, aunty,' I said to her, 'and I have made you so!' 'No, my dear, no, Lizzie, no, my darling!' she said eagerly. 'You haven't made me so; I had enough, more than enough, and to spare, and I was putting by money for you, my dearest, and saving up for you. But like a foolish woman I put it into a bank, and they have robbed me and a thousand other poor creatures. The bankers were thieves, my darling, thieves! and there's no law to touch them, and I can't get my poor little bit of money out of their pockets! I thought I should have gone mad when I went yesterday, and found the place shut up; and it was no consolation to me to find others that had been robbed hanging about the great stone walls--for I thought: of you, darling, and I was too wretched to feel for others.' I tried to console her. 'Never mind, aunt,' I said; 'you have been very, very kind to me, and I shall never be able to pay you.' 'Yes, you can, my dearest,' she said, crying over me as I kissed her; 'you are paying me now, over and over again.' Then I said I wouldn't be a burden to her any longer, and that Mrs. Dimmock was right when she said that I ought to work for my living. My aunt cried more and more at this, and begged me not to think of it; but my mind was made up. What was to become of me by and by, I thought, unless I learnt to depend upon myself; and when Mrs. Dimmock the next day said that I ought to go into service, I determined to try and be something better than a servant. Well, I was very lucky, daddy. I set my wits to work, and I heard that a woman who kept a little milliner's shop wanted an apprentice. I went to her, and she was so pleased with me that she agreed to take me into the house, and keep me, and teach me the business. I was to be with her for four years, and I wasn't to have any wages during the whole time. I served my time faithfully, and my aunt gave me more than enough money to keep me in clothes. It pleased her to see me look nice, and I liked it myself, daddy; I like nice clothes and things! At the end of the four years, a friend in the same business, Mary--you've heard me speak of her often, daddy--proposed that we should live together; said that we could take one room, which would be enough for us, and that we could get enough work to keep us. There was something so delightful in the idea of being my own mistress, that I jumped for joy at the proposal, and without consulting my aunt I consented. We took a room very near here, daddy, and paid six shillings a week for it. All this was done very quickly, and then I wrote to my aunt to come and see me. She came, but took it so much to heart that I should make so serious a change in my life without consulting her, that I promised never to do anything of the sort again without asking her advice. We were very comfortable together that night, I remember, and she gave us our first order for two black dresses. So Mary and me jogged along. Although our living did not cost us much, we had to be very careful, as we could not earn a great deal of money. Sometimes trade was slack, and we were without work; but my aunt took care that I should always have a little money in my purse. She came to see me more often than she used to do when I was at Mrs. Dimmock's. I knew why. She was uneasy at the idea of two girls living together; thought we couldn't take care of ourselves. That's why, daddy, I think she would be glad to consent to my living in the pretty little house you spoke of. It is almost too good to be true, though. Is it really true?"

"It is, my dear," replied Muzzy.

"Then," continued Lizzie, "Mary got a sweetheart, which was nice for me as well as for her, for he used to take us both out. Sometimes, you know, daddy, I wouldn't go; I pretended that I was very busy, and had a great deal to do--and they had to go out by themselves. Nearly always when they came home I had a bit of supper ready for them; and when Mary's sweetheart went away after supper, Mary used to peep through the blind, and watch him standing in the street looking at the house and up at the window as if he was so much in love with them that he couldn't go away."

"As you did to-night, Lizzie, when you came in."

She gave him a sly happy look.

"Yes, as I did to-night, daddy. I haven't much more to tell. Mary got married, and then I came here to live, and that's the end of my story."