‘But I’m determined to get her out of Poplar Farm,’ I said to Dick, as we drove homeward, after I had told him this long-winded story. ‘She’s killing the baby and herself too. She ought to have a much more cheerful home and active employment. Now, can’t you think of something for her to do about the gaol or the hospital, like a dear, darling old boy as you are?’
‘Well, I don’t quite see how you can take Mrs Maclean’s servant away from her against her will, Dolly. If Mrs Graham leaves, it will be a different thing; but as things are, I’m afraid you ought not to interfere.’
I called him a wretch; but I knew he was right for all that, and determined to take his advice and wait patiently to see how things turned out. And, as it happened, I had not long to wait, for a week afterwards I received this doleful epistle from Bessie:—
‘My dear Dolly,—I am perfectly miserable; nothing ever goes right with me. Tom threw Charlie out of the wheel-barrow yesterday, and cut his forehead right across. He will be scarred for life. And nurse has entirely spoiled those frocks you were so kind as to cut out for Lily and Bessie. She is so obstinate, she would have her own way, and the children positively cannot get into them. But the worst news of all is, that Mrs Graham is going to leave me, and I have had to wean baby, and put him on the bottle.’
‘Hurrah!’ I cried, ‘it’s all right. I shall get that poor child here after all, and be able to patch up her broken life. No, I sha’n’t, though,’ I continued, as I went on reading, and then, to my husband’s astonishment, I fell on his neck, and burst into tears. ‘Oh, Dick, Dick, Dick, I am so glad!’
‘Halloa! what’s up now?’ said that vulgar Dick, in his own way of expressing things.
‘My darling, she’s got him again.’
‘Who’s got which?’
‘Mrs Graham’s husband has returned. He wasn’t drowned, but let me finish the letter,’ and drying my eyes I went on—
‘Just imagine how awkward and unpleasant for me. The other evening there was an awful screaming in the kitchen, and when I went down, I found Mrs Graham fainted dead away in the arms of a man. I was very angry at first, naturally; but when she recovered I found it was her husband whom she thought was drowned at sea three months ago. It seems he was picked up insensible by some ship, and taken to Spain, where he had a fever, and was delirious, and all that sort of thing; and when he recovered, he worked his way home before the mast, and had only just found out where his wife lived. But I think it is excessively unreasonable of people to take situations, and say they’re widows, and then—’