"Quick, quick, four of brandy and some water," Margaret cried to the barman, and a moment after she was holding the glass to her friend's lips. "Not had anything to eat all day, dear? Then we'll have a bite and a sup together. I feel a bit peckish myself. Two sausages and two rolls and butter," she cried. Then the women had a long talk. Margaret told Esther the story of her misfortune.
The Barfields were all broken up. They had been very unlucky racing, and when the servants got the sack Margaret had come up to London. She had been in several situations. Eventually, one of her masters had got her into trouble, his wife had turned her out neck and crop, and what was she to do? Then Esther told how Master Harry had lost her her situation.
"And you left like that? Well I never! The better one behaves the worse one gets treated, and them that goes on with service find themselves in the end without as much as will buy them a Sunday dinner."
Margaret insisted on accompanying Esther, and they walked together as far as Wellington Street. "I can't go any further," and pointing to where London seemed to end in a piece of desolate sky, she said, "I live on the other side, in Stamford Street. You might come and see me. If you ever get tired of service you'll get decent rooms there."
Bad weather followed fine, and under a streaming umbrella Esther went from one address to another, her damp skirts clinging about her and her boots clogged with mud. She looked upon the change in the weather as unfortunate, for in getting a situation so much depended on personal appearance and cheerfulness of manner; and it is difficult to seem a right and tidy girl after two miles' walk through the rain.
One lady told Esther that she liked tall servants, another said she never engaged good-looking girls, and another place that would have suited her was lost through unconsciously answering that she was chapel. The lady would have nothing in her house but church. Then there were the disappointments occasioned by the letters which she received from people who she thought would have engaged her, saying they were sorry, but that they had seen some one whom they liked better.
Another week passed and Esther had to pawn her clothes to get money for her train fare to London, and to keep the registry office supplied with stamps. Her prospects had begun to seem quite hopeless, and she lay awake thinking that she and Jackie must go back to the workhouse. They could not stop on at Mrs. Lewis's much longer. Mrs. Lewis had been very good to them, but Esther owed her two weeks' money. What was to be done? She had heard of charitable institutions, but she was an ignorant girl and did not know how to make the necessary inquiries. Oh, the want of a little money—of a very little money; the thought beat into her brain. For just enough to hold on till the people came back to town.
One day Mrs. Lewis, who read the newspapers for her, came to her with an advertisement which she said seemed to read like a very likely chance. Esther looked at the pence which remained out of the last dress that she had pawned.
"I'm afraid," she said, "it will turn out like the others; I'm out of my luck."
"Don't say that," said Mrs. Lewis; "keep your courage up; I'll stick to you as long as I can."