“I'd go on my knees to serve you, and Heaven bless you,” said the wife.
“Well, then, you must give me this promise.” And she did. “And now,” said he, “your mother, and Podmore, and I have been talking over matters, and we've agreed that you may make a very good income for yourself; though, to be sure, I wish it could have been managed any other way; but needs must, you know. You're the finest singer in the universe.”
“La!” said Morgiana, highly delighted.
“I never heard anything like you, though I'm no judge. Podmore says he is sure you will do very well, and has no doubt you might get very good engagements at concerts or on the stage; and as that husband will never do any good, and you have a child to support, sing you must.”
“Oh! how glad I should be to pay his debts and repay all he has done for me,” cried Mrs. Walker. “Think of his giving two hundred guineas to Mr. Baroski to have me taught. Was not that kind of him? Do you REALLY think I should succeed?
“There's Miss Larkins has succeeded.”
“The little high-shouldered vulgar thing!” says Morgiana. “I'm sure I ought to succeed if SHE did.”
“She sing against Morgiana?” said Mrs. Crump. “I'd like to see her, indeed! She ain't fit to snuff a candle to her.”
“I dare say not,” said the tailor, “though I don't understand the thing myself: but if Morgiana can make a fortune, why shouldn't she?”
“Heaven knows we want it, Woolsey,” cried Mrs. Crump. “And to see her on the stage was always the wish of my heart:” and so it had formerly been the wish of Morgiana; and now, with the hope of helping her husband and child, the wish became a duty, and she fell to practising once more from morning till night.