I could not answer, but kept repeating to myself, “Gone! Gone! Father gone!” as Tom led me on to the house. We met the boy with the physic at the door.
“Let Nancy give her the stuff first,” said the old man, thoughtfully; “maybe it will give her strength, and help her to bear the bad news.”
Nancy took in the bottles, while Tom and I remained outside. After some time she came out and told Tom that mother wanted to see him. He went in, shaking all over so much that I thought he would have fallen. I followed, when, seeing Mary, I threw my arms round her neck and burst into tears. She guessed what had happened even before I told her. We sat down, holding each other’s hands and crying together, while Tom went in to see mother. What he said I do not know, though I am sure he tried to break the news to her as gently as he could. When she saw the hat, which he still held in his hand, she knew that father was lost. She did not go off into fits, as Tom afterwards told me he thought she would, but remained terribly calm, and just bade him describe to her all that he knew.
“I mustn’t give in,” she said at length, “I have the children to look after, for if I was to go what would become of them?”
“While I’m able to work they shan’t want, missus,” answered Tom, firmly.
“I know what you’d wish to do, Tom; but there’s one thing won’t let you: that thing is liquor,” said mother.
“Then I’ll never touch another drop as long as I live, missus!” exclaimed Tom. “May God help me!”
“He will help you, Tom, if you ask Him,” said mother; “and I hope that, whether I live or die, you’ll keep to that resolution.”
I believe that conversation with Tom did mother much good; it took her off from thinking of father. She was still, however, very ill, and had to keep her bed. The doctor came again and again; generally twice a day. He of course had to be paid, and a good deal too. There was nothing coming in, and poor mother became more and more anxious to get out and attend to her business. The doctor warned her that she would go at great risk—indeed, that she was not fit to leave her bed. “She had no money left to pay for food and rent and the doctor’s bill,” she answered, and go she must. Though she had no money, she had, however, ample credit to stock her bumboat.
Very unwillingly Nancy assisted her to, dress. Out she would go, taking me with her to lay in a stock of the articles she required. People remarked on her changed looks, and some did not even know her. She acknowledged that she was very tired when we got home, but declared that she should be the better for going on the water.