“My mother’s dead,” said Ben, and the strong man, six feet high, sobbed like a little child, bringing back to Frederic’s mind the noiseless room, the oddly shaped box, the still, white face, and tolling bell, which were all he could distinctly remember of the day when he, too, said to a boy like himself, “My mother’s dead.”
These three words. Alas, how full of anguish is their utterance, and how their repetition will call up an answering throb in the heart of every one who has ever said in bitterness of grief, “My mother’s dead.”
Frederic felt it instantly, and it prompted him to take again the rough hand, which he pressed warmly in token of his sympathy.
“He is a good man,” thought Ben, wiping his tears away; and after a few choking coughs and brief explanations as to how and when, he came at once to the object of his visit.
“He should peddle now just as he used to do, of course, but wimmen wan’t so lucky, and all Marian could do was to teach. He had given her a tip-top larnin’, though she had earnt some on’t herself by sewin’. She had got a paper thing, too, with a blue ribin, from Miss Harcourt, who praised her up to the skies. In short, if Mr. Raymond had not any teacher for Alice, wouldn’t he take Marian Grey?” and Ben twirled his hat nervously, while he waited for the answer.
“I wish you had applied to me sooner,” said Frederic, “for in that case I would have taken her, but a Mrs. Jones, from Boston, came on only a week ago, so you see I am supplied. I am very sorry, for I feel an interest in Miss Grey, and will use my influence to procure her a situation.”
“Thank you; there’s a place she can have, but I wanted her to come here,” returned Ben, who was greatly disappointed and began to cry again.
Frederic was somewhat amused, besides being considerably disturbed, and after looking at the child-man for a moment, he continued:
“Mrs. Jones is engaged for one year only, and if at the end of that time Miss Grey still wishes to come, I pledge you my word that she shall do so.”
This brought comfort at once. One year was not very long to wait, and by that time Marian would certainly be past recognition, and as all Ben’s wishes and plans centered upon one thing, to wit: Mr. Raymond’s falling in love with his unknown wife, he was readily consoled, and wiping his eyes, he said apologetically, as it were, “I’m dreadful tender-hearted, and since I’ve been an orphan it’s ten times wus. So you must excuse my actin’ like a baby. Where’s Alice?”