Edina: A Novel

by Mrs. Henry Wood

[CHAPTER I.]

LAUREL COTTAGE

It was a roomy cottage in a small by-road of the environs of Kennington, bordering on South Lambeth. Frost and snow lay on the ground outside, and bitter blasts in the air: within, sitting round the scanty fire in a bare-looking but not very small parlour, were Mrs. Raynor, Edina, and the younger children, the two former busily employed making brown chenile nets for the hair.

When Edina was out one day searching for some abode for them, this dwelling fell under her eye. It was called Laurel Cottage, as the white letters on a slate-coloured wooden gate testified: probably because a dwarf laurel tree flourished between the palings and the window. In the window was a card, setting forth that "lodgings" were to be let: and Edina entered. Could the Raynors have gone into the country, she would have taken a whole cottage to themselves; but then there would have been a difficulty about furniture. It was necessary they should remain in London, as Charles still expected to find employment there, and they must not be too far from the business parts of it, for he would have to walk to and fro night and morning. Laurel Cottage possessed a landlady, one Mrs. Fox, and a young boy, her son. The rooms to let were four in number; parlour, kitchen, and two bedrooms. She asked ten shillings a-week: but that the house was shabby and badly furnished, she might have asked more. Edina freely said she could afford to give only eight shillings a-week; and at length the bargain was struck. Edina's income was just a pound a-week, fifty-two pounds a-year; eight shillings out of it for rent was a formidable sum. It left only twelve shillings for all necessities: and poor, anxious Edina, who had all the care and responsibility on her own shoulders, and felt that she had it, did not see the future very clearly before her; but at present there was nothing to be done but to bow to circumstances. So here they were in Laurel Cottage, with a dreary look-out of waste-ground for a view, and a few stunted trees overshadowing the gate.

Alice had gone into a school as teacher. It was situated near Richmond, in Surrey, and was chiefly for the reception of children whose parents were in India. She would have to stay there during the holidays: but that was so much the better, as there was no place for her at home. Alfred ran on errands, and made a show of saying his lessons to his mother between whiles. Mrs. Raynor taught Kate and little Robert; Edina did the work, for they were not waited upon; Charles spent his time tramping about after a situation. To eke out their narrow income, Edina had tried to get some sewing, or other work, to do; she had found out a City house that dealt largely in ladies' hairnets, and the house agreed to supply her with some to make. All their spare time she and Mrs. Raynor devoted to these nets, Charles carrying the parcels backwards and forwards. But for those nets, they must certainly to a great extent have starved. With the nets, they were not much better off.

In some mysterious way, Edina had managed to provide them all with a change of clothing, to replace some of that which had been lost in the fire. They never knew how she did it. Only Edina herself knew that. A few articles of plate that had been her father's; a few ornaments of her own: these were turned into money.

The light of the wintry afternoon was fading; the icicles outside were growing less visible to the eye. Little Robert, sitting on the floor, said at last that he could not see his picture-book. Mrs. Raynor, looking young still in her widow's cap, let fall the net on her lap for a minute's rest, and looked at the fire through her tears. Over and over again did these tears rise unbidden now. Edina, neat and nice-looking as ever, in her soft black dress, her brown hair smoothly braided on either side her attractive face—attractive in its intelligence and goodness—caught sight of the tears from the low chair where she sat opposite.

"Take courage, Mary," she gently said. "Things will take a turn some time."

Mrs. Raynor caught up her work and suppressed a rising sob. Katie, in a grumbling tone, said she was sure it must be tea-time. Edina rose, brought in a tray from the small kitchen, which was on the same floor as the room they sat in, and began to put out the cups and saucers.

"What a long time Alfred is!" cried the little girl.