A Great Trouble.
In my strange, reticent way I had a great objection to making friends unless they were people who needed my aid; then I seemed drawn to them, and an intimacy was sure to follow. There was one family, though, whom I came to know through Ruth Smith and her husband Luke, and from the very first they interested me—more, though, from the troubles through which they had passed than anything else.
Mr Hendrick was a clerk in some great firm, and as our intimacy increased, and he saw the interest I took in his daughters, each of whom was a well educated young girl, just of an impressionable age, he used to speak very plainly of their future.
“I shall not be sorry,” he said, “to see them the wives of good earnest men, I don’t want them to make wealthy matches; but money is useful, of course.”
“They have never been from home?” I said.
“Oh, yes, both of them. But governesses, poor children, have not a happy time. Of course there are houses where there is a good sensible woman at the head, and the governess finds a home; but in too many cases she does not fare any too well.”
“Yours have had some unpleasant experiences, then?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, smiling. “Ah, that was a hard time.” It was just after my long illness, when I was laid by for six months.
“Of course, it was not reasonable to expect different treatment from the great firm with whom I had been for so many years; but it came like a sharp pang when one morning at breakfast, just as I had made up my mind to go up to town and try again, the postman left a letter.
“It was very kindly written, and enclosed a cheque for fifty pounds; but that did not seem to balance the intimation that the heads of the City place had filled up my post by promoting one of their employés; for they said that it was quite evident I should not be in a condition to do active business for some months to come, and they advocated perfect rest and a sojourn at the sea side.