A Little World

by George Manville Fenn

“But she does, ma’am, and me too, wonderful, for Mrs Ruggles is only just a little too strict, and I don’t like to interfere; for you know, ma’am, that’s a child of mystery—that is, like Fatherless Fanny, as maybe you’ve read of; and no doubt she’ll come to be in a big spear of life. She—that’s Mrs Ruggles, you know, ma’am—says that we’ll do what’s right by the child, ma’am, and what can I say against that, when Mrs Ruggles is such a clever woman?”

“I don’t quite like such cleverness,” said Mrs Jared.

“You see I want to do what is right, ma’am,” said Tim, “and somehow that’s rather hard sometimes. But I was going to tell you, ma’am, we used to live in South Molton Street, and though I’ve no children of my own now, ma’am, when my poor first wife was alive there used to be one regularly every year, and the wife that proud of it, she didn’t know what to do for a few months; and then a time would come when we’d stand side by side looking at the little weeny, waxy features, lying in the bit of a coffin, and the wife fit to break her heart because they were all taken away again so soon. Not one lived, ma’am; and though we were poor, and at times very much pushed for a job and a little money, that used to be our greatest trouble, and I’ve seen my poor wife look that hungry and envious of a lodger on the first floor—quite a lady she was—who lived alone there with her baby, that nothing could be like it.

“But she was a good woman, God bless her!” said Tim, in a low voice, and as he spoke he put his hand to his bald head, as if raising his hat; “and sometimes I think, ma’am, that there aren’t such a wonderful number of good women in this world. I never knew what money we had, and what money we hadn’t, but used to put it in her hands as I brought it home from the shop, and I always knew that she’d make it go as far as money would go, and I didn’t want no more. Nothing like letting your wife keep the purse, sir,” he said, turning to Jared—“always makes her feel proud of the confidence.

“But it came to pass at one time, ma’am, that we were so put to it, that I couldn’t put a bit of confidence in Mrs Ruggles, ma’am—my first—for times were that hard with strikes that there was not a stroke of work to be got for anybody. We tried all we knew, and I scraped and pledged and sold, till it seemed that the next thing to do would be to go into the workhouse, when one day came a knock at our back-room door, and we both started, feeling sure that it was the landlord to tell us we must go, for we were behindhand with the rent. But no; who should come in but the first floor lodger, with her little one; and to make a long story short, what she wanted was for my lass to take care of her, because she was going abroad with her husband, and my wife was to be paid for doing it.

“And do you think she would? Why, she snatched hungrily at the little thing; and poor as we were, would have been glad to do it for nothing. Perhaps I had my objections, and perhaps I hadn’t, ma’am; but we were almost starving, and when five pounds were put on the table for the present, and an address written down where we were to go when that money was done, why, one could only look upon it as a Godsend, and promise all the poor lady wished.

“Then came the cruel time, ma’am, when the poor woman had to leave it, and I was glad to go out of the room, so as not to see her sobbing and breaking her heart, and snatching the poor little baby to her breast, and running to the door with it, and then coming back and giving it up to my wife, kissing her, and kneeling down to her, and begging of her to love it, when my poor lass was worshipping it as hard as ever she could.

“I stopped out of the room till she was gone, poor lady, and then I came back, pretending to look jolly; but I only made a fool of myself, ma’am, when I saw the wife crying softly over the little thing in her lap, for I knew what it all meant. Oh, so much, ma’am, for they were the tender motherly tears of a woman who had never been able to pour out all the love of her heart upon one of her own little ones. And as I stood there, I seemed not to like to speak, as I saw her lips quivering and face working. But, in spite of all her sad looks, there was one of pleasure in her face; for there was the little thing looking up and crowing and laughing as if it knew that it was in good hands; and while my poor wife stayed on this earth, ma’am, no little one could have been more tenderly treated.

“But there came a time when I was anxious and worried, same as I had been often before; and then I couldn’t believe it at all, and wouldn’t have it that it was true; for it all seemed like a dream, till I found myself sitting with little Pine in my arms, keeping her with me because she was something poor Lucy loved; and then it seemed to come home to me that it was my poor wife’s cold, smooth forehead that I had kissed, as she lay still and sleeping with another little waxen image upon her breast; but it was all true, ma’am, and I was alone—all alone.”

Poor Tim Ruggles made no secret of the fact that he was crying, as he laid down his pipe, and pulled out his thin red cotton handkerchief to wipe his eyes; and, for some reason or other, Patty’s face was very close to her work, and Mrs Jared had altered her position.