But Mrs Sims was not there. Ten minutes after the starting of the shabby funeral she went up to Septimus Hardon’s rooms to fetch the little girl, but had to ascend to the attic, where she found her leaning against Lucy, who was seated upon the floor, laughing at the little thing’s delight as first one and then the other of the poodles stood up and carried a stick in its mouth, while the dark eyes of Jean were fixed upon the beautiful group before him, ardently though with a speechless admiration.
With many thanks Mrs Sims bore away the tiny girl, whose sleeves Lucy had tied up with bows of crape, and, as she accompanied the woman down the stairs it was only by an effort that she refrained from snatching the little one back and bearing it into her own room. But Mrs Sims bore the prattling little thing away and seated it upon the carpet in her lodging, when, preparing to relieve herself after so much sorrow, she took up the bellows: but as the fire was out she only made a dust, and, laying the pneumatic comfort aside, she took to “spazzums,” which necessitated the sending of Marry Hann, a neighbour’s child, for half-a-quartern of rum, which relieved the pain so much that she repeated the dose more than once, and, carrying the little girl with her, went down again for a social chat, being now insensible to pain. Half-an-hour had not elapsed, though, before a fresh twinge induced her to try another instalment of her “spefizzick,” and now she not only became insensible to pain but to everything else. Mr Jarker did not at once return after the funeral, but parted with his fellow-mourners without a word, after stopping at a public-house honoured by Mr Pawley, and settling the expenses readily over some gin and beer, accompanied by pipes; and, though more than one neighbour declared they saw him enter the door quite late, and come out early next morning, it was certain that he did not go up to his attic, a place which for some time he shunned after dark.
Mrs Sims declared she saw nothing of him, and doubtless her testimony was very trustworthy, for she had not the slightest recollection of what took place that night after the last administration of the “spefizzick,” nor of how she came into her own room till her angry husband explained. For when in the dusk of evening Lucy returned from the warehouse with a fresh pile of work, she found Mrs Sims seated nodding upon the doorstep with the sleeping child in her flaccid arms, and in momentary danger of falling upon the broken flags. So taking the little thing, Lucy bore it to her own room; and from that time forth it often came to pass that she crossed the court when Mr Jarker was from home, and attended to the wants of the little neglected child.
Volume Two—Chapter Sixteen.
A Battle: Science Wins.
“What! another operation?” said old Matt with a groan.
“To be sure,” said the house-surgeon cheerily; “why not?”
“But I’m so much better,” said Matt; “and I’ve no end of work to get through.”