AN UNWELCOME ENCOUNTER
MICHAEL paid the fifty pounds into his bank, and had the satisfaction of seeing them entered in his pass-book. He was so much richer than he had expected to be, yet somehow he did not feel richer, but poorer. He had rather the feeling of one who had suffered loss. There was a stain upon his conscience, and a weight upon his mind; yet, with the strange perversity of human nature, he would not own this to himself. He still professed to believe himself justified in keeping the money he had found. He clung to it, and liked to think how it had swelled his balance at the bank, even whilst he knew that he should be filled with shame, if any one should ever learn how he had come by that money.
In Michael's lonely life there was no one save Mrs. Wiggins, the charwoman, to observe how he lived, and mark the variations in his moods. She began at this time to observe a change in the bookseller. He had never been what she would call a "pleasant-speaking" gentleman. She had always found him short of speech, irritable, and disposed to snub her whenever she attempted to inform him as to the gossip of the neighbourhood; but now he was positively surly in his manner towards her, and so quick of temper that it was almost more than she could "put up" with.
One morning, she thought she was giving him intelligence in which he could not fail to be interested, when she said:
"I've 'eard where that lady, the professor's widow, as you bought so many books of, 'as gone to live."
Her words startled Michael, and he turned his eyes on her without speaking. She took his silence as an encouragement to proceed.
"She's gone to live in Clarendon Gardens. That's not a very nice place, is it? And even there, she 'as only part of a 'ouse. It seems she's quite poor now she's lost 'er 'usband. She's sent away 'er servants, and keeps only a bit of a girl now. She washes and dresses the children 'erself, and does most of the cooking—and she such a lady, too! It's 'ard, ain't it? I 'eard it all from my cousin, who works for 'er landlady."
"I wish to goodness your cousin would mind her own business, or that you would keep her gossip to yourself!" exclaimed Michael angrily. "How can I help it, if Mrs. Lavers is poor and has to do without servants? I've done what I can for her in buying her books. What more can I do?"
"Oh, lor me! Nobody would expect you to do anything for her," exclaimed Mrs. Wiggins, with unconscious satire. "I just thought you might like to know about the poor lady. You need not turn so fiercely on me, Mr. Betts, for giving you a piece of news."
"Keep your news till it's wanted, and mind your own business," responded Michael crossly.