“But what are you going to do?” persisted her mother. “You’ll ’ave a good allowance, of course?”
“No; I won’t touch a penny, even if it’s offered to me,” Bridget said hotly, turning at the door, and facing her mother. “Would you take money from a man who has never lost an opportunity of insulting you—your relations? That’s why I thank Heaven I have no child. One never knows what one may be tempted to do for the sake of one’s child. As it is, I can work. I worked before I was married. I can work now.”
Mrs. Ruan did not reply, except by a melancholy shake of the head. She followed her daughter from the room, wiping her eyes and sighing deeply as she went.
CHAPTER XII
Bridget arrived at the flat in College Street one evening, a week after her visit to Rilchester. She was pale and thin, Helen noticed, as she helped her lay aside her wraps in her bedroom upstairs. All the evening she was very silent. She said little just then about her home visit; but Helen gathered that there had been a painful scene when she explained its purport to her father.
The next day she began to make inquiries about work with feverish eagerness. Partly through her influence at the Hackney school, partly as a result of Dr. Mansfield’s exertions on her behalf, it was not long before she was able to get enough to satisfy her for the immediate present, at all events.
“I never knew such a girl!” Helen exclaimed one morning, looking at her critically as she stood tying on her veil before the glass. There was color in her cheeks, her eyes were bright and happy, as she caught up her gloves and her books in haste to start. “I believe you love being worked to death. You look radiant!” Bridget turned to her swiftly.
“Wait till you’ve passed three years of wretched, enforced idleness,” she said, catching her breath, “and then tell me if it isn’t bliss to work.”
She had returned one day rather late from an afternoon class, to find the drawing-room deserted. Tea was laid on a low table before a brightly burning fire, and she drew her chair towards it with a sigh, half weariness, half content. For a long time she sat holding her cup and saucer in her lap, gazing steadily into the fire. She was startled from her musing by the sound of a ring. A moment later the maid opened the drawing-room door, followed by Carey.