'Thank you kindly, Jack. But what can I do with you here?'
'I will fetch and carry. I want no wages but just to live. Let me stay with your Ladyship.'
He looked so earnest and so honest that Jenny turned to me. 'He might be useful. I believe he is honest. What say you, Will?'
What could I say? Should I turn away a friend when we might want all the friends we could find? How we were to keep our new servant was more than I knew: however, there he was, upon our hands. It was a kindly act of Jenny, when her fortunes were at their worst to take over this poor lad who was thrown upon the world without a trade—save that of rustic labourer, which is useless in London: without a character: and without friends. Jenny's consent saved him—he could remain honest.
'Vex not your soul about money, Will. We shall want none. There is always money when it is really wanted. See how cheaply I live: I cannot wear out my fine clothes—indeed, the mob has left me mighty few to wear: I have no rent to pay nor any servants. It is true that my money is nearly gone, but there are still things—well—things of which you know nothing: and the Judge who thinks so much about the Majesty of the Law—will surely relent before long. If he would come to see me I think I could soften his heart.'
'Indeed you would, Jenny, if it was of the hardness of the nether millstone.'
CHAPTER XXIII
AN UNEXPECTED EVENT
At this juncture the question of money became pressing. For three months I had been out of a place. Jenny's money, of which she was so prodigal, was coming to an end; and although she hinted at other resources it became obvious to me that the attempt must be made to find employment. I looked forward to another round of walking about the town day after day in fruitless search. At this juncture, however, an event happened wholly unexpected, which changed the position altogether both for myself and, as it proved, for Jenny.