Unwilling to give up the pursuit, Mrs. Walsh wandered about for an hour or more, occasionally resting on one of the seats in the City Hall Park, till the unwonted exertion began to weary her, and she realized that she was not likely to encounter Tom.
There was one chance left. Tom might have got home while she had been in search of her. Spurred by this hope, Mrs. Walsh hurried home, and mounted to her lofty room. But it was as desolate as when she left it. It was quite clear that Tom did not mean to come back that night. This was provoking; but granny still was confident that she would return in the course of the next day. So she threw herself on the bed,—not without some silent imprecations upon her rebellious charge,—and slept till morning.
Morning brought her a new realization of her loss. She found her situation by no means an agreeable one. Her appetite was excellent, but she was without food or money to buy a supply. It was certainly provoking to think that she must look out for herself. However, granny was equal to the occasion. She did not propose to work for a living, but decided that she would throw herself upon charity. To begin with, she obtained some breakfast of a poor but charitable neighbor, and then started on a walk up town. It was not till she got as far as Fourteenth Street that she commenced her round of visits.
The first house at which she stopped was an English basement house. Granny rang the basement bell.
“Is your mistress at home?” she asked.
“Yes; what’s wanted?”
“I’m a poor widder,” whined granny, in a lugubrious voice, “with five small children. We haven’t got a bit of food in the house. Can’t you give me a few pennies?”
“I’ll speak to the missis, but I don’t think she’ll give any money.”
She went upstairs, and soon returned.
“She won’t give you any money, but here’s a loaf of bread.”