In Kennington Park he was treated with less respect—the geniuses of that famous resort having christened him “Old Boots,” in friendly recognition of the very disreputable manner in which he was shod, and the fact that his boots were never subjected to the necessary operations of the blacking brush.
Accompanying him in his walks was his only daughter, a maiden of nineteen or twenty years—a sparkling brunette, who, by her talent as an amateur milliner, was enabled out of very poor materials to dress herself becomingly and even with taste. She appeared quite devoted to the old gentleman, and many who saw them at once admired her for her filial affection, and also deplored the fact that a young woman so elegant and amiable should have her chances of matrimony spoiled by the caprice of an old man.
For, although Mr. Lowndes—that was the old gentleman’s name—attended his religious duties with great regularity, he was shy of making acquaintances, and reticent with a few whom chance had forced upon his society. And this by such people of the world as vegetate in Camberwell was put down to his selfishness. He was unwilling, they said, to give his daughter a chance of marrying, not because his love for her was great, but because he did not wish to lose so invaluable a nurse.
In this they did “Old Boots” a grievous wrong, for he loved Jessie better than anything else in the world.
Among the very few whose acquaintance the Lowndes family had made was a Mr. Evelyn Jones, a clerk in a bank in the City. This exemplary young gentleman belonged to the same conventicle as Mr. Lowndes, was a teacher in the Sunday-school, and bade fair to become a bright and shining light in the City. But these circumstances would not in themselves have led to a friendship. The fact is that he lodged in the same house as the superannuated City man and his daughter, and was in the habit of purchasing out of his own small means certain delicacies which the old man was too poor to provide. Evelyn was a frank, unsuspicious youth, and was permitted sometimes to join his fellow-lodgers for half-an-hour of an evening, when it was quite apparent that his pleasure was contributed to rather by the presence of Jessie than by the highly-improving conversation of her parent.
“How much do you think a man could afford to marry on?” he asked, during one of these visits.
“It depends,” replied Mr. Lowndes, “on the man; but more especially upon the woman. But why do you ask?”
“Because I’ve got a rise of ten pounds to-day.”
“And what, may I ask,” went on the old man, “does that make your salary?”
“Ninety pounds a-year,” replied Evelyn, with a flush of honest pride.