Theo smiled in her turn, and admitted that she was easily imposed upon. "But I am learning something, I assure you," said she. "I have found out that all the clean people are not saints and all the dirty ones reprobates, which was the notion I at first set out with."
After a little more talk we had dinner with Lady Jemima and the young ladies, and set out on our way home, calling at the house of the curate I have mentioned.
Such a house—showing in every corner the results of sluttishness and improvidence.
The poor man, into whose study we were shown, sat in a ragged cassock, writing with one hand and holding a sleeping infant on the other arm, while his lame daughter was resting upon a rude couch or settle—a hard resting-place it looked—keeping two more little ones quiet by telling them a story, though her feverish cheeks and bright heavy-lidded eyes showed how much she needed rest.
Another girl about twelve was clearing a table of the remains of what certainly looked like a very scanty meal. Theo at once took possession of the children, and distributed some cakes among them, which they devoured in a way that showed their dinner had still left them with an appetite. She had also brought new gowns for the elder girls, at sight of which the somewhat sullen face of the second girl brightened, and she looked really pretty.
The father said just enough and not too much by way of thanks, and promised that he would go to see Lady Jemima next day. Just as we were about going, madame sailed into the room, having evidently been busy attiring herself in the remains of her old waiting-gentlewoman's finery. She was loud in her thanks and praise of the gowns, and equally loud in her lamentations over the state of her own wardrobe, a hint of which Theo took no notice.
"I little thought I should live to receive charity," said the foolish woman; "but when one weds beneath one's station, there is no knowing what one will come to."
"As to that, I dare say your husband was so much in love as to think you capable of filling any station," returned Theo, wilfully misunderstanding her; whereat she tossed her head, and looked ready to bite, but made no reply.
"I dare say she will make up the gowns for herself," said Theo, when we had taken leave. "It is a wonderful thing to see what sort of people little children are sent to, is it not?"
I agreed with her. I may as well say that the woman flatly refused at first to let Sally go to Lady Jemima, declaring that her lameness was more than half a pretence to get rid of work. But the father had his way for once, and poor Sally, if she did not recover, at least spent her last days in peace.