“I’ve done it again,” muttered Jenkles—“I’m allus a-doing it—it is my natur’ to.”
The girl made a brave effort, dashed away the tears, shook back her long dark hair, and tried to smile in the speaker’s face, but so piteous and sad a smile that Jenkles gave a gulp; for he had been glancing round the room, and in that glance had seen a lady and her daughter living in a state of semi-starvation, keeping life together evidently by sewing the hard, toilsome slop-work which he saw scattered upon the table and chairs.
“She has been ill,” said Mrs Lane, apologetically, “and has not quite recovered. We are very much obliged to you for calling.”
“Well, you see, mum,” said Jenkles, “it was to set both of us right, like—you as I didn’t mean to do it, and me and my missus that you warn’t hurt. And now I’m here, mum, if you and the young lady there would like a drive once or twice out into the country, why, mum, you’ve only got to say the word, and—”
“You’ll excuse me, ma’am,” said the sharp voice of Mrs Sturt, laying great stress on the “ma’am,” “but my ’usban’ is below, and going out on business, and he’d be much obliged if you’d pay us the rent.”
The girl looked in a frightened way at her mother, who rose, and said, quietly—
“Mrs Sturt, you might have spared me this—and before a stranger, too.”
“I don’t know nothing about no strangers, ma’am,” said Mrs Sturt, defiantly. “I only know that my master sent me up for the rent; for he says if people can afford to come home in cabs, and order cabs, and drink port wine, they can afford to pay their rent; so, if you please, ma’am, if you’ll be kind—”
“Why, them two cabs warn’t nothing to do with the lady at all,” said Jenkles, indignantly; “and as for the wine, why, that was mine—and—and I paid for it.”
“And drunk it too, I dessay,” said Mrs Sturt. “Which it’s four weeks at seven-and-six, if you please, ma’am—thirty shillings, if you please.” The girl stood up, her eyes flashing, and a deep flush in her cheeks; but at a sign from her mother she was silent.