Y Y
 
 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 CALIF. LIBHABY, LOS i
 
 " A picture. Why, bless my heart, Frank, it's your grandfather:" 
 
 Frontispiece. 
 
 Page 101.
 
 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY, 
 
 ANNETTE LYSTER, 
 
 Author of " Xorth Wind and Sunshine,'' 
 
 PUBLISHED CNDEIt TUE DIRECTION OF 
 
 THE COMMITTEE of GENERAL LITERATfRE AND EDUCATION, 
 
 APPOINTED BV THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING 
 
 CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE 
 
 LONDON. 
 SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE; 
 
 XORTHUMBKKLAXD AVEXUK. CHAKIXG C! 
 4. ROYAL EXCHANGE: 4>S PICCADILLY. 
 
 NEW YORK : POTT. YOUNG & CU.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAOK 
 
 An Eminently Gen'eel Family 5 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Mrs. Martin's Arrival 20 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 A Straight Line 84 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Mrs. Martin's Departure 47 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 Jem's First Situation 60 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Treasure Trove 7 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 A Friend in Need 97 
 
 CHAPTER YHL 
 Poor Little Dolly 116 
 
 2131114
 
 IV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PA OK 
 
 How the Crash Came ............................................................ 132 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Two Ways of Beginning the World .......................................... 140 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 Jem's Promotion .................................................................... 157 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Jem's Second Situation ........................................................... 1G9 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 " AlTWork and no Play, just as bad for Jill as for Jack" ............. 183 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Agatha to the Rescue ..................................... ....................... 196 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Mr. Barlow'e Gate-Keeper ...................................................... 208 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 A Quiet Mind ........................................................................ -jj:. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 "And this is Jem !'' ............................................................... 231 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 How Jem and Dolly Parted at Last ........................ .. 244
 
 MBS, DOBBS' DULL BOY, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AN EMINENTLY GENTEEL FAMILY. 
 
 R. and Mrs. Dobbs had three sons 
 and three daughters : and I may 
 state on the best authority (for 
 surely a mother ought to know her 
 own children) that every individual 
 son and daughter was uncommonly 
 clever, save one. 
 
 That one was Jem, the dull boy. 
 The young Dobbses were more 
 than clever (I still speak on the 
 best authority). They were equally remarkable for 
 personal beauty as for mental endowments ; and above 
 all, as Mrs. Dobbs was never weary of adding, they 
 were " eminently genteel." Genteel is a word selected 
 by Mrs. Dobbs, not by me. It is not a favourite of 
 mine. It always implies, to my ear, a certain amount 
 of sham and pretension, but Mrs. Dobbs believed in 
 being genteel, worshipped genteel people, and would
 
 6 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 not, I think, have allowed herself to be happy in the 
 Garden of Eden, unless she had been assured that it 
 was a genteel resort. 
 
 Time had been when Mr. and Mrs. Dobbs were by 
 no means as genteel as they were when my story 
 opens. They began life in a very small way. Mr. 
 Dobbs was clerk (some unkind people said plainly, 
 shopman) in a great grocery establishment in the 
 rising town of Middlemore, and in those days he was 
 a hard-working, thriving man, and his pretty wife (she 
 was an Irishwoman) seemed very busy and happy 
 among her six children. But a distant relation 
 having left Mr. Dobbs a small sum of money, he 
 determined to risk it in one of those wonderful specu- 
 lations of which every age has plenty, and being a 
 shrewd man, he prospered beyond his expectation. 
 He continued to speculate, and continued to prosper. 
 The grocery line was given up, and Mr. Dobbs had 
 an office in a good street in Middlemore and a pretty 
 house in the suburbs. It was then that Mrs. Dobbs 
 began to be genteel, and as wealth increased, so did 
 her gentility, and that of her children, or f at least, 
 of most of her children. For if Jem was the dull boy 
 of the family, Dolly was undoubtedly the least genteel 
 girl. 
 
 When the two elder girls grew up, Mrs. Dobbs 
 determined that they should make splendid mar- 
 riages ; and to this end she wished to get into good 
 society. So she insisted on moving to a large and 
 handsome house, just outside the town, which she 
 furnished in the most magnificent manner. There 
 were also gardens, greenhouses, hot-houses, croquet 
 ground, and cricket ground, and yet it was within easy
 
 AN EMINENTLY GENTEEL FAMILY. 7 
 
 distance of the shops in which the mother and 
 daughters delighted, and of the billiard-rooms and 
 other places of resort affected by the young gentlemen. 
 There was one great blessing connected with Middle- 
 more, Mrs. Dobbs would remark : there were always 
 plenty of soldiers to make the streets look gay, and 
 plenty of officers to dine, play croquet, and dance at 
 Ballydobbs House, as Mrs. Dobbs had named her 
 new abode thus combining the family name with an 
 Irish sound very pleasingly. She was wont to declare 
 that she belonged to a "very genteel family" in Ireland, 
 and she called one of her sons Fitzgerald De Courcy, 
 so that you might take your choice between these two, 
 and decide whether she had been a Miss Fitzgerald or 
 a Miss De Courcy (or both) at your leisure. Your 
 decision would never have been challenged by Mrs. 
 Dobbs, though in truth her maiden name had been 
 Leary. I beg that no one will imagine me to imply 
 that there is any disgrace in bearing a name less 
 euphonious than De Courcy or Fitzgerald I am 
 not such a snob. The disgrace lies in being ashamed 
 of it. 
 
 The Dobbs family was at tea. Five o'clock tea, 
 need I say ; and I am to be understood as speaking 
 generally, and not as implying that every member of 
 the family was present. However, there was a goodly 
 assemblage, and on the whole, the young people 
 justified their mother's pride in them. The eldest 
 girl, Miranda, was singing a wonderfully genteel little 
 song, and considering that she had not learned to play 
 or sing until she was sixteen, she was doing it very 
 well. Up to nearly the same period of her life too, 
 she had answered to the name of Mary Anne ; but at
 
 8 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 that juncture increasing gentility had occasioned a 
 general revision of the names of the family. It was 
 then that Tom became Fitzgerald ; Mary Anne, by an 
 easy alteration, Miranda ; while Bess (she had been bap- 
 tized Bess after Mr. Dobbs' stepmother, of whom you 
 will hear presently) selected Belinda as a substitute ; 
 and little Dorothea was dubbed Theodora. However, 
 when Dolly arrived at years of discretion, she shocked 
 the others sadly by refusing to be Theodora ; but they 
 were obliged to submit, /or she had a sharp tongue, 
 and threatened to bring them to confusion by using 
 their original names "before company" unless they 
 let her have her own way about Dolly. They called 
 her Dorothea, however, and with this she had to be 
 content. Besides these, there was another son, whose 
 plain Harry had been sublimed into Harcourt. 
 
 While Miranda sang, Belinda bent over an em- 
 broidery frame, and worked, not very industriously, at 
 a " fiower-piece " of great size and curiously blended 
 colour. Dorothea was dispensing tea (dear me ! how 
 society of this kind refines one. I generally say 
 "pouring out tea"), Fitz lounged gracefully in an 
 arm-chair, and James, poor stupid James (with whose 
 name no one cared to meddle), sat in the window with 
 a book in his hand. Miranda was really a pretty girl ; 
 Belinda had a fine complexion, Dolly had a round, 
 merry face, with dark eyes and a bright colour. She 
 was the youngest of the family, and consequently the 
 best educated, having really learned many things 
 which her sisters only pretended to know. Fitz \v;is 
 handsome, but James was a plain, thick-set, rather 
 heavy-looking lad, and though he had naturally a 
 particularly pleasant smile and a pair of honest,
 
 AN EMINENTLY GENTEEL FAMILY. 9 
 
 sensible grey eyes, he was so shy that most people set 
 him down as a very plain dull boy. He was the 
 youngest son and Dolly was the youngest child. Dolly 
 was Jem's only friend. She loved him, fought his 
 battles, revenged the insults offered him by the others, 
 and was really kind to him ; though sometimes it was 
 doubtful that she added to his happiness by her rather 
 pugnacious championship ; for Jem was a quiet, 
 retiring lad, and did not like a fuss even when it was 
 made in his own defence. 
 
 Mrs. Dobbs (for I must complete my picture of the 
 tea-drinking party) lay on a sofa ; a right fair, delicate, 
 pretty, silly-looking little woman as could well be. 
 Dolly prepared and carried to her a cup of tea and a 
 slice of thin bread and butter, and having placed 
 them on a small table close at hand, she said 
 
 "Do sit up and eat something, Mother. You did 
 not eat a bit of luncheon to-day." 
 
 "My child!" faintly exclaimed Mrs. Dobbs, 
 " Mamma, I beg not Mother. So low !" 
 
 "Oh, I'll call you anything you like if you'll only 
 eat. Here Jem, dear, here is your tea." 
 
 She held out a cup, and Jem stretched forth a 
 long arm and took it. Fitz raised his head, and said, 
 " Any tea for me, little one ?" 
 
 " Certainly ready for you." 
 
 " The little vixen means to make me get up and 
 come for it," said Fitz, good-humouredly ; and, 
 stretching himself lazily, he came over to the table, 
 and took possession of a cup. Miranda's song had 
 come to an end, but she was still at the piano. 
 
 " Mamma," said she, "do I know that song well 
 enough to sing it to-night ? "
 
 10 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " No, you don't," answered Belinda ; " you had 
 better have another lesson in it before you sing it in 
 company." 
 
 "I daresay you are right," answered Miranda. 
 "Has it stopped raining? It is so provoking, for 
 Mr. Lawson and Major Douglas said they would 
 come this afternoon evening I mean for a little 
 croquet." 
 
 "I wish your papa and Harcourt would come in 
 before the tea is cold," sighed Mrs. Dobbs ; and as if 
 her wish had been a fairy wish, a knock was heard at 
 the door. 
 
 " Is that Papa, Jem, dear ? " said Dolly. James 
 nodded in reply with such unnecessary vehemence that 
 his cup jumped off the saucer and was broken in the 
 fall. Mrs. Dobbs, Miranda, and Belinda, all three 
 thought it right to scream faintly. 
 
 "0 James, you dull creature ! my poor head !" 
 said his mother. 
 
 " Jem, can't you move without upsetting some- 
 thing?" asked Fitz, laughing. 
 
 "It is enough to ruin one's nerves to sit in the 
 room with him," murmured Miranda. 
 
 "Another cup smashed," said the more decided 
 tones of Belinda. 
 
 James grew crimson, and the bereaved saucer 
 trembled in his grasp. Dolly took it from him, 
 gathered up the pieces of the cup, and while thus 
 employed, remarked, " Good people, you make as 
 much fuss about a tea-cup as if it were an heirloom 
 from some of our noble ancestors, English or Irish." 
 
 Now, no one desired to set Dolly's sharp tongue 
 going on that subject, so the fate of the tea-cup was
 
 AN EMINENTLY GENTEEL FAMILY. 11 
 
 passed over without further remark; and presently 
 Mr. Dobbs and his son Harcourt entered the room 
 together. 
 
 Mr. Dobbs had been, in his }~outh, a handsome, 
 portly man ; and he was portly still, but it was strange 
 that no one had remarked how careworn and old he 
 was beginning to look. Harcourt had only just corne 
 back from his tutor's he was reading with the curate 
 of the parish to prepare himself for Oxford, and 
 eventually for Holy Orders, because, as his mother 
 said, "the Church was such a genteel profession." 
 
 Mr. Dobbs had a letter in his hand, which he laid 
 aside to take the cup of tea which Dolly gave him, 
 and which he really seemed to need, as he was very 
 pale. They were all drinking tea, eating cake, and 
 chattering, when Mrs. Dobbs said 
 
 "Mr. Dobbs, my dear, there was an Australian 
 letter for you. Did you get it ? A um Have you 
 received it?" 
 
 Mrs. Dobbs seldom used a familiar phrase without 
 correcting herself. 
 
 " Yes, I have it here. It is from my stepmother. 
 Here, Dolly, take my cup. I want both my hands to 
 break this great seal." 
 
 He spoke with forced playfulness, but his hands 
 shook as he opened the letter, and his eyes betrayed 
 a great deal of anxiety as he began to read. Anxiety 
 which changed first to disappointment and then to 
 dismay, mingled with a half-amused smile as he looked 
 at his wife. 
 
 "She is coming home on a visit, Mary," said he. 
 
 They were all talking, but his voice and manner 
 attracted general attention.
 
 12 MRS. DOEBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Who is coming home ? " they inquired, not 
 having heard his words distinctly. 
 
 " My stepmother," replied Mr. Dobbs, briefly. 
 
 Mrs. Dobbs sprang up from the sofa with a degree 
 of energy which she seldom displayed, and ex- 
 claimed 
 
 " Your stepmother, Tom ! Do you mean to say she 
 is coming here ? " 
 
 Fitz whistled, and Miranda burst into tears. 
 
 "What's the matter?" Dolly whispered to Jem; 
 but he was as much puzzled as she was. The elder 
 ones appeared to understand the calamity that 
 threatened the family. 
 
 " Good gracious, Tom ! what ever is to be done ? " 
 Mrs. Dobbs went on, quite forgetting to choose long 
 words in her agitation. " Write at once, and say she 
 can't come." 
 
 "I could not do that, Mary." 
 
 " And why not, pray ? " 
 
 "Because I have not forgotten what I owe her; 
 though you seem to have forgotten that she was very 
 kind to you and the children. When my father died, 
 and left me to her care, there was not a penny in the 
 world to educate me or start me in life. Her son 
 mind you, though I call him brother, he is no relation 
 to me he is her son by her first marriage he was 
 earning twenty-five shillings a week, and that was all 
 she had to look to. Most people would have sent me 
 to the workhouse, but she kept me, educated me, 
 apprenticed me, and was my best friend, ay, and yours 
 too, Mary, until they all went to Australia. I could 
 no more tell her that she can't come to my house 
 because my wife and children have grown too fine to
 
 AN EMINENTLY GENTEEL FAMILY. 13 
 
 talk to her than I could fly ; so say no more about it. 
 Besides there is not time she has sailed before 
 now." 
 
 Mr. Dobbs was not a great talker as a general rule, 
 but when he did talk in this way his wife knew that 
 he meant to be attended to ; so, beyond a faint moan 
 when he used such low expressions as the "work- 
 house," and "apprenticed me," her gentility remained, 
 as it were, dormant. Miranda ceased to weep, and 
 only looked sulky. Dolly was full of curiosity. 
 Neither she nor James could remember the hard- 
 working, struggling times of old, and she, at least, 
 had had no idea of the very humble origin of her 
 parents until now. Perhaps the fact that she was 
 not in the least shocked when she gathered the truth 
 from what her father said, proved that her sisters 
 were right when they asserted that " Dorothea was 
 naturally ungenteel." 
 
 " Papa," she said, " tell me about her. She is not 
 our grandmother then ? " 
 
 " No. She married my father my own mother 
 died when I was a baby. She was a widow with one 
 son a boy many years older than I was. She 's as 
 good a woman as walks this earth ; I only wish there 
 were more like her ; " and Mr. Dobbs sighed heavily. 
 Mrs. Dobbs hid her face in her handkerchief, and 
 moaned feebly. 
 
 " If you wanted a coarse, bustling kind of wife, 
 Mr. Dobbs, my dear, you should not have married 
 me." 
 
 "So it seems," he answered drily. " Come with 
 me, Mary ; I want to speak to you." 
 
 They left the room together, and went downstairs
 
 14 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 to a small apartment which was given up to the master 
 of the house, and which was the only spot in his fine 
 house where he felt at home. What passed between 
 them there the young people, of course, did not know ; 
 but I shall take this opportunity to enlighten my 
 readers on one or two matters concerning which they 
 had some discussion. 
 
 About two years before this time, Mr. Dobbs had 
 lost heavily in an unfortunate speculation. In order 
 to prevent this loss from being known, he had applied 
 to Stephen Martin, his stepmother's son, for a loan, 
 and had got it at once. Mr. Dobbs expected to be able 
 to repay this money very soon, and was very regular 
 in paying the interest ; but things had not gone well 
 with him of late, and with such an extravagant wife 
 and family, he was becoming seriously embarrassed. 
 Some time ago he had taken his wife into his 
 confidence, urging her to retrench the household ex- 
 penditure, to give fewer parties, dress herself and her 
 daughters less expensively, and buy no more useless 
 knicknacks to fill her already overcrowded drawing- 
 room. But she assured him that such a course would 
 ruin everything. They were now in the best society ; 
 Mirrie and Linda were greatly admired, and were 
 certain to make good matches soon; Fitz was "all 
 but" engaged to Miss Darwin, who had five thousand 
 a year if she had a penny, and who would, no doubt, 
 provide for Harcourt, as she had a living in her gift ; 
 and all these brilliant prospects would fade away in a 
 moment if he raised the least suspicion that he was 
 no longer the prosperous and successful man he had 
 been, besides, she declared that the economies he 
 suggested were not enough to make any serious
 
 AN EMINENTLY GENTEEL FAMILY. 15 
 
 difference ; and furthermore, she prophecied that his 
 luck would soon turn, and then he would laugh at his 
 present anxiety. Her advice to him was to write to 
 Stephen Martin and borrow a sum of money to meet 
 the present difficulty. Mr. Dobbs let himself be 
 persuaded, and wrote the letter. But whether he 
 unintentionally betrayed too much anxiety, or for some 
 other reason, the result was that old Mrs. Dobbs was 
 coming to England, and whether she was bringing the 
 money with her or not her letter did not state. 
 
 "It is so provoking that she must needs make a 
 mystery of it ! " said Mrs. Dobbs, when she had read 
 the letter. 
 
 "I don't see that it matters whether she brings it 
 or not, Mary; we shan't get it. Mother is a shrewd 
 woman as shrewd a woman as I know and I 
 couldn't tell her a lie neither." 
 
 " Tell her a lie ! My dear Tom, what a low ex- 
 pression ! Who wants you to tell her a lie ? It is 
 certainly a great pity that she is coming, for her 
 old-fashioned dress ' and homely ways will set people 
 laughing, I am afraid ; but that must be borne. It 
 will be all right, you'll find. You just hold your 
 tongue ; if she questions you, say that your business 
 is not one that you can explain, you know, and leave 
 the rest to me. When she sees the style in which we 
 live, and the people who visit us, she '11 take it for 
 granted that your business is all right." 
 
 "I doubt it." 
 
 "It will be your fault, then, if she don't. I'll do 
 my part. I'll see that everything goes right. Miranda 
 and Belinda will help me they are really such clever 
 girls."
 
 16 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 "Little Dol-ly's worth six of them. Mind you, 
 Mary, don't tell any of the young people that there is 
 anything wrong; you never can reckon on what 
 young folk will do. Either they 'd confide it to some 
 dear friend, or else they 'd take fright and want to do 
 something that would betray us. Yes, your plan is 
 the only one now ; we must have that money if we can 
 get it." 
 
 "Stephen Martin is so fond of you." 
 
 "Yes, hut he has seven girls to provide for." 
 
 "Well, you '11 repay him with interest. It will he 
 the best investment he could make; mind you tell 
 this old woman so. And now I '11 go upstairs again 
 and lecture the young people. They really must be 
 civil to her." 
 
 On her way upstairs she heard shouts of laughter, 
 which she soon found were occasioned by Dolly, who, 
 with a muslin "tidy" folded to represent a cap, a 
 square of bright wool-work pinned over her shoulders 
 as a small shawl, her gown tucked up, and the poker 
 in her hand as a stick, was giving a spirited lecture on 
 the family idleness, dress, gaiety, etc., in the character 
 of " Grandmamma Bess" whom she had never seen, 
 but concerning whom she had been catechising the 
 elder ones who remembered her. 
 
 "Dorothea, I'm surprised at you!" said Mrs. 
 Dobbs, severely. "It is very low very ungenteel 
 to mimic people." 
 
 " One can hardly call it mimicking, Mamma, as I 
 Iiever saw the old dame. I only got Miranda to 
 describe her to me." 
 
 " Mamma, can nothing be done to keep her 
 away ? " said Belinda. " It 's too horrid. "Why, she
 
 AN EMINENTLY GENTEEL FAMILY. 17 
 
 was housekeeper to Miss Darwin's uncle before she 
 married our grandfather, and that 's enough to make 
 it horrid ; besides, of course she '11 call us all by our 
 old names." 
 
 " I dont think she will, my dear, if I request her 
 not to do so. She was always a most obliging person, 
 and I think she will understand that under present 
 circumstances, the names which which might once 
 have been tolerated, will not do are in fact unsuit- 
 able." 
 
 "I would rather be Tom than Fitz," said Dolly, 
 audaciously. " Fits of what ? laughing, or coughing, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Hold your tongue, Dolly," said Mrs. Dobbs, 
 angrily. "You are very saucy and very silly, and 
 your opinion was not asked. Really, children, we 
 must be civil to the old creature. Your papa has 
 business relations with her son, who is enormously 
 rich, and if we vex her she may do him a mischief." 
 
 "And I daresay she 's a very nice old trot," cried 
 the unabashed Dolly. 
 
 However, nothing that any one could say prevailed 
 to make the four elders leave off bewailing the horrors 
 of grandmamma Dobbs' impending visit. Dolly did 
 nothing but laugh and ask questions, and James sat 
 in the window and said nothing. No one noticed 
 this ; it was just Jem's dull way ; and if dull Jem 
 privately speculated as to the reason of his mother's 
 sudden change of opinion, he said nothing of that 
 either, even to Dolly. 
 
 There was a party at Ballydobbs House that night, 
 and Miss Darwin was there, and smiled graciously 
 upon handsome, good-tempered Fitz. Miranda sang 
 
 B
 
 18 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 :i song not that which had been said to require 
 further polishing and Belinda sang another song, 
 and there was plenty of dancing. Dolly, though still 
 considered as a child, was present, and enjoyed herself 
 heartily, more than either of her sisters did ; for she 
 just danced and laughed and chattered, and had no 
 secret plans to fret her, nor any desire to appear other 
 than she was, which is more than I can say for 
 Miranda and Belinda. And Mrs. Dobbs was very 
 genteel ; so indeed was the whole entertainment, only 
 Mr. Dohhs sat alone in his den downstairs, and 
 groaned when the music and laughter reached his 
 ears, and did not appear quite as happy as the giver 
 of so genteel a party ought to have been. But poor 
 Mrs. Dobbs had entered on a course, the probable end 
 of which he knew full well ; and when he thought of 
 the possible ruin that might overtake his family, it 
 was little wonder that he groaned. 
 
 " Jem, darling," said bright little Dolly next morn- 
 ing to her favourite brother, " why did you never come 
 near us last night ? It was such a pleasant party. 
 Don't you care the least little bit in the world for 
 dancing?" 
 
 "No, Dolly, I can't dance, you know I can't; no 
 one would dance with me." 
 
 " Jem ! you know I would." 
 
 " I do, dear, but why should I spoil your fun ?" 
 
 " You wouldn't, not a bit ; I like you better than 
 any one else in the world." 
 
 "I don't know why, then; when I see Fitz and 
 Harcourt looking so nice and pleasant talking to 
 every one so easily, and doing everything so well I 
 feel Dolly, dear, I do feel so stupid. Why on
 
 A=N EMINENTLY GENTEEL FAMILY. 19 
 
 earth can't I do things as they do ? and why on earth 
 do you love me best ?" 
 
 "I will tell you, Jem ; because you are real. There 
 you are, and just what I see you you really are. 
 Now the rest are just like that pretty necklace Mamma 
 wore last night, all glitter and show, and no reality. 
 Fitz is handsome and quick, and he can talk about 
 anything ; but I have heard him boast how he talked 
 of this and that, and never betrayed that he knew 
 nothing about it. Why, listen to him about the 
 business; he talks sometimes as if he was Papa's 
 right hand, and I heard him tell Belinda the other 
 day that, except a letter to copy once in a way, he 
 never has anything to do ; and they are all just the 
 same. Listen to the girls bringing in a French word 
 sometimes they know as much French as I know of 
 Sanscrit, my dear, and they 're just as often wrong as 
 right ; indeed, oftener. They are all shams, even 
 to their very names ! and I hate shams, and I won't 
 be a sham, and I love my old Jem, because he isn't 
 a sham ! And now come along, Jem, and we '11 have 
 a nice country walk, and then you '11 feel better. You 
 like a walk when I go too, don't you, Jem ?" 
 
 "You know I do, Dolly; only for you, I'd run 
 away." 
 
 " Don't run away without me, though ; some day 
 you and I will go off together, and make our fortunes, 
 and leave them all to be genteel at their ease. You 
 and I are the only drawback to the family gentility, 
 Jem." 
 
 B2
 
 CHAPTEK n. 
 
 MES. MARTIN'S ARRIVAL. 
 
 DO not think that I have yet mentioned that 
 the gay party of which I have spoken was 
 one of Mrs. Dobbs' Thursday evenings, or 
 "at homes." Any one can give a party, 
 but to have a weekly "at home," is not 
 possible to many, and in fact it so happened 
 that there was no one in Middlemore who 
 gave " at homes " weekly, except Mrs. Dobbs. She 
 thought it so much more genteel than giving parties. 
 So it came about that a week having passed away, 
 Thursday evening came round again, and dancing and 
 music were again going on in the large rooms of 
 Bally dobbs House, when a cab rattled up to the door, 
 carrying on the top a small trunk, well corded, and 
 much covered with labels of every size and hue. 
 
 When the two pretentious-looking footmen in 
 canary- coloured livery with green adornments threw 
 open the door, a small personage stood before them, 
 wrapped in a long not very flowing cloak of a dark 
 green tartan, with a small round cape of the same 
 material, a poke bonnet, and a thick black veil. She 
 had a good-sized basket in one hand, and a carpet 
 bag in the other.
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S ARRIVAL. 21 
 
 " Some mistake," said one footman grandly ; and 
 the other, not to be outdone, remarked, " We don't 
 want any eggs to-day ! " and shut the door. It is a 
 remarkable fact that when people are purse-proud and 
 insolent, their servants will be the same in their 
 degree. 
 
 " Driver," said the muffled lady, " are you sure you 
 have made no mistake ? Is this certainly Mr. Dobbs' 
 house ? " 
 
 " Indeed it is, mum ; Ballydobbs House, and that 
 you could see for yourself if there was daylight, for 
 it 's up on the gate-posts. I knows it well, for I often 
 brings folk to these here parties." 
 
 " Oh, there 's a party, is there ? "Well, I must knock 
 again." 
 
 Which she did, and that with vigour ; and when the 
 door again flew open she walked into the hall, saying 
 
 " Tell your master that I am come. He expects me." 
 
 "I am very sorry, ma'am," said one of the men, 
 rather puzzled, " but master is not in the house." 
 
 " Not in the house ! Bless me ! and a party going 
 on. Well, tell your mistress then." 
 
 " Who shall I say, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Martin. No say old Mrs. Dobbs." 
 
 The footman went, and seeking out his mistress, he 
 gave his message in a low tone, still having his 
 suspicions that all was not right. Mrs. Dobbs grew 
 crimson. She had not expected the old lady to arrive 
 so soon, nor to come without having written from 
 Liverpool to announce herself. What teas to be done ? 
 Fitz was dancing with Miss Darwin, but Harcourt 
 was standing near, and she beckoned to him and to 
 James, who was hiding himself as best he could in the
 
 22 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 shadow of the window curtain. She sent one of them 
 for Miranda and the other for Dolly; Belinda was 
 dancing. Then she whispered to them all the evil 
 tidings, and begged them to come with her to the hall 
 and welcome the old lady. 
 
 "Welcome her!" exclaimed Miranda. "Well, 
 Mamma, I really cannot do that ; so very inconsiderate 
 of her to come in this way. What on earth are we to 
 do with her?" 
 
 " Bring her up here, get her a partner, and see how 
 she '11 dance," cried Dolly. " Come along, all of you, 
 I 'm longing to see if I got myself up correctly the 
 other day." 
 
 " Dorothea, you must be civil ! More may depend 
 upon it than you know. Miranda, I insist ! " said 
 Mrs. Dobbs impressively, as they hurried downstairs. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Dobbs," cried the younger owner 
 of that name, " is this really you ? Tom will be so 
 sorry not to be here, but he had to go to London on 
 business." 
 
 The basket and bag were dropped, the black veil 
 raised, and a nice little old face, with a lingering pink 
 on the cheeks, and a pair of bright, kind, brown eyes, 
 was turned wonderingly on the speaker. 
 
 "Why, it's never Mary," cried a pleasant voice; 
 "and yet it is, for sure. My dear, I'd never ha' 
 knowed ye. And don't tell me that this is Mary 
 Anne," pointing at Dolly, "for I shan't be able to 
 believe you." 
 
 " Good gracious ! I feel that I shall faint," mur- 
 mured Miranda. "Did you ever see such a guy, or 
 hear such a way of speaking ! " 
 
 And drawing back, she ran quickly upstairs, and
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S ARRIVAL. 23 
 
 disappeared into the dancing-room, leaving her mother 
 to get through her troubles as best she might. 
 
 "No, dear Mrs. Dobbs, this is my youngest 
 Dorothea. My eldest girl she is here no, I 
 see never mind, James, we can find her by and by." 
 
 " Was that Mary Anne as ran upstairs without so 
 much as a fold of muslin over her shoulders?" cried 
 the traveller, in dismay. " I think, Mary Dobbs, 
 times are changed with ye ; your daughter seemed 
 ashamed to own me." 
 
 " My dearest Mrs. Dobbs, what an idea ! No doubt 
 the dear girl remembered some engagement, and in 
 my hurry to see you I had not told her that it was 
 you. Harcourt, my love, assist Mrs. Dobbs to remove 
 her muffling; and do you, James, see her luggage 
 carried up into the front bedroom." 
 
 Harcourt assisted the stranger politely enough ; 
 but when the green cloak and a comfortable brown 
 shawl beneath it were removed, and a trim little 
 figure in a short, dark dress, with a red kerchief 
 neatly pinned over the shoulders, and a white apron 
 with large pockets full of biscuits was revealed, the 
 remembrance of Dolly's get-up, thus proved to have 
 been very correct, quite overcame Mr. Harcourt Dobbs' 
 sense of good manners, and in his turn he ran off and 
 disappeared ; but in this case it was to conceal a 
 laugh. 
 
 " Dolly, what am I to do ?" whispered Mrs. Dobbs 
 to her daughter. " Some one is sure to come down ; 
 the dance is nearly over, and they'll be going to the 
 refreshment tables. "What a shame of Miranda and 
 Harcourt." 
 
 " Indeed it is a shame," said Dolly, whose bright
 
 24 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 eyes had an angry light in them ; " but there is no 
 use in trying to make them behave themselves. Leave 
 her to me, Mamma. I'm not ashamed of her, and 
 neither is Jem. Go back to your grand company ; 
 I'll take care of Papa's friend." 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Dobbs," began the mistress of the 
 house, affectedly. 
 
 "I think, Mary, you'd best call me Mrs. Martin, 
 since Granny is out of date ; it used to be Granny in 
 old times. I 've been called Martin ever since I went 
 with Stephen, and I've got used to it. Folks out 
 there didn't know as I 'd been married again, and it 
 will save ill-convenience here." 
 
 " It shall be as you wish ; but I want to ask you to 
 excuse me for a few moments ; we have some young 
 friends of my daughters' here to-night, and " 
 
 " And you can't leave them with no one by, to see 
 that all goes as it should?" said Mrs. Martin, as I 
 s^all call her for the future. " Quite right, Mary ; 
 young folks are the better for a mother's eye over 
 them when they get merry-making together." 
 
 " And Dorothea will take care of you until I can get 
 rid of this crowd, and come back to you." 
 
 " Come with me, Grandmamma may I call you 
 Grandmamma?" said Dolly. "James and I can be 
 spared, you know; we are too young to be of any 
 consequence. Papa will be quite vexed that he was 
 not here to welcome you ; he was telling us only the 
 other day all he owes to you. Jem, carry that lamp 
 into the little breakfast-room ; no one will interrupt 
 us there. And now, Jem, like a good boy as you are, 
 run to the dining-room and forage ; bring plenty of 
 good things, for I am sure she is tired and hungry."
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S ARRIVAL. 25 
 
 The little room, lighted up by Dolly's bright face 
 and pleasant ways, looked cheery and comfortable, 
 and food was welcome to the tired traveller. 
 
 " You must take a glass of wine, Grandmamma, 
 and I have ordered some tea ; but you look tired, and 
 the wine will do you good." 
 
 "Thank you, my dear; you are very kind," said 
 Mrs. Martin ; and Dolly felt that there was a little 
 hurt feeling in the voice, at which she was not 
 surprised. Though the girl had a sharp tongue, she 
 had a kind heart ; and she did her very best to make 
 her charge comfortable, and to cause her to forget the 
 rude and discourteous behaviour of the rest. Mrs. 
 Dobbs did not return ; and when the old lady had had 
 some supper, during which time Dolly chattered 
 away, and even Jem tried to talk, they took her up 
 to her room, and Dolly helped her to unpack and to 
 undress, and left her snug in bed. 
 
 Then this indignant little maid went off to her 
 own room, for, as she said to Jem, who was awaiting 
 her to say good-night, "If I see them again, I 
 must give them a piece of my mind I couldn't help 
 it, and there is no comfort in having a row before 
 strangers, I shall have plenty of time to-morrow. 
 Good-night, Jem ; I rather think you and I will like 
 Mrs. Martin ; she seems a nice little body, with no 
 airs about her." 
 
 Next morning Mrs. Martin was so tired after her 
 long journey that she did not awake until the middle 
 of the day. This gave Mrs. Dobbs time to thoroughly 
 lecture her young people, and she succeeded in 
 convincing them that their father would be seriously 
 annoyed if they in any way slighted his stepmother.
 
 26 MRS. DOLES' DULL BOY. 
 
 " I daresay we shall be able to keep her out of 
 sight a good deal," she added. " Poor old thing, she 
 would be very much out of place in our circle ; and 
 most likely she will not stay long." 
 
 In the meantime, Mrs. Martin had at last awakened 
 from a sound and refreshing sleep, and as the idea 
 of breakfasting in bed was one which had never 
 suggested itself to her, she got up and dressed herself 
 in her neat black stuff gown with the red kerchief over 
 her shoulders, a white muslin one appearing round 
 her throat. The apron she folded up and laid by. 
 
 " Very like aprons are gone out of date," said she. 
 " I saw that young fellow grin at it. I wonder who 
 he is ; he 's like Tom, but she called him by a name 
 I don't know. That little Dolly is a nice creature ; 
 but to think of Tom's daughter dressed in white 
 worked muslin and a gold thing round her throat. 
 But it was a nice, modest dress, not like Mary Anne's, 
 as hardly covered her decent. And so uncivil she 
 was ; and Mary was not that pleased to see me either. 
 
 I 'm afraid their rise in life hasn't Well, there 
 
 now, Bess, you needn't be seeing nothing but bad in 
 them. Times are changed, and manners too, maybe, 
 since you were young. You 're a homely old body, 
 Bess, and these young folks are reared different. 
 Not that little Dolly has a bit of it, nor that nice, 
 quiet lad James either. "Well ! I '11 just say my 
 prayers and go down. I 'm hungry ; but I suppose 
 dinner won't be later than two." 
 
 Mrs. Martin went downstairs, and after some little 
 searching about, she opened the door of the dining- 
 room, and, to her great amazement, found the greater 
 part of the family at breakfast.
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S ARRIVAL. 27 
 
 " Why, here is dear Mrs. Martin," cried Mrs. Dobbs, 
 coining forward to meet her ; and, mindful of the 
 lecture they had just received, Fitz and Harcourt 
 hastened to get a chair for the old lady. Neither of 
 the girls moved, however ; and Miranda seemed to 
 think she had done her part when she inquired, lan- 
 guidly, whether she would have tea or coffee '? Mrs. 
 Martin was hungry, and was not too genteel to own 
 it, so she was soon busy with her breakfast ; while 
 the others resumed the conversation which her ap- 
 pearance had interrupted. After listening with a 
 puzzled look for some time, Mrs. Martin presently 
 said 
 
 " Mary, my dear, what names do you call your 
 children ? Surely this is Mary Anne ? I remember 
 her now ; she 's very little changed since she was a 
 child ; and I 'd know Tommy's curly head among a 
 thousand ; and this, I think, is my name-child, Bess." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Martin," cried Mrs. Dobbs, putting 
 up her hands and hanging her head on one side as if 
 to ward off a box on the ear, " spare me, pray ; 'tis 
 years since we have used those primitive names. In 
 the circles in which we now move we found it quite 
 necessary to get rid to to discontinue them ; and 
 I really don't think the children would have the least 
 idea that you were speaking to that you were ad- 
 dressing them, if you used those foolish, forgotten 
 names. My eldest girl is called Miranda ; the second, 
 Belinda ; my eldest son, Fitzgerald ; the other, Har- 
 court. And you will oblige me greatly if you will 
 do comply with our custom in this matter." 
 
 " Oh, certainly, my dear ! if I can mind them. Be- 
 rinda, Meliuda, Fitzgerald, and what's Harry?"
 
 28 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Harcourt. Miranda, dear Mrs. Martin. Mary 
 Anne Miranda, a very slight change, you see. Be- 
 linda, for Bess ; that, too, is a small alteration." 
 
 "I will remember, my dear, if I possibly can. 
 Where is my bonny little lass of last night ? And I 
 don't see James either." 
 
 " They are out in the garden, I think. Dorothea 
 is an early riser, and she is so fond of her garden." 
 
 " Two very good things. And when do you expect 
 Tom? I hope you call him by his old name, for 
 somehow I don't think I could call him by any 
 other." 
 
 " No alteration has taken place in his name," said 
 Mrs. Dobbs, impressively. She spoke as if names 
 were naturally subject to changes, a fate which her 
 husband's plain Tom had somehow escaped. "He 
 will be home by dinner-time. Will you come now 
 and see the house and grounds, dear Mrs. Martin ? I 
 am such a poor delicate creature that I seldom 
 venture out so early, but I should like to show you 
 everything." 
 
 So Mrs. Martin was taken all over the house, and 
 all the new furniture was displayed to her. Then the 
 gardens, conservatories, etc., were visited ; all with 
 the intention of impressing her with a just notion of 
 the consequence, wealth, and gentility of the Dobbs 
 family. Her only comment was that these things 
 must cost a power of money. 
 
 Mr. Dobbs came home at about five o'clock, and 
 disgusted his wife by seeming truly glad to see his 
 stepmother, even though he was ill at ease in her 
 presence. 
 
 The next two days passed away quietly. The
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S ABRIYAL. 29 
 
 Miss Dobbs, Miranda and Belinda (for Dolly was 
 not yet allowed to go to parties, except at home), 
 went to a dance in the town, and of course their 
 mother went with them, and so did Fitz and 
 Harcourt. Old Mrs. Martin, who, if the truth must 
 be told, found genteel life a dull thing, and longed 
 sorely for her seven pretty grand-daughters, and her 
 busy farm life in far Australia, had gone to bed at 
 her usual hour, nine o'clock : and coming down to 
 breakfast at nine the next morning, she found only 
 Dolly and Jem in the dining-room. 
 
 "Well," said she, "Dolly, my dear, do you mean 
 to wait a bit for the rest ? for if so, I '11 thank you for 
 a bit of bread, just to stay my stomach, for I 'm fine 
 and hungry." 
 
 " They won't be down till twelve or one o'clock, 
 Granny, dear. And I daresay Papa won't get up 
 either, he seldom does on Sundays." 
 
 " My dear ! and about going to church ! " exclaimed 
 the poor old lady, in the sudden shock of the moment. 
 She had determined never to say a word to the young 
 people to show that she disapproved of their parents ; 
 it was hard to avoid doing so, however, when she saw 
 so much that seemed to her to be wrong, and on this 
 occasion the words were out before she knew what she 
 was saying. 
 
 " Church ! Oh, because it's Sunday?" said Dolly. 
 "Granny, dear, we do not trouble church much 
 except Harcourt. He goes because otherwise I 
 believe they wouldn't ordain him, or something of 
 that kind; but I scarcely think even Harcourt will 
 make his appearance in time to-day. They were not 
 home till three o'clock."
 
 30 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 Mrs. Martin had turned quite pale, and looked as 
 she felt, very much shocked. 
 
 " Why, Granny," exclaimed Dolly, " you look quite 
 solemn and horrified." 
 
 " Do I, dear ? " 
 
 " Indeed you do. I 'm sorry I told you if you are 
 vexed ; but, after all, you would soon have found it out 
 for yourself." 
 
 " Yes, my dear, I suppose so. No, thank you, 
 Jem, no more toast ; I '11 have another cup of tea, 
 Dolly." 
 
 James kept looking at the good old face, which had 
 by no means regained its usual colour or expression. 
 He had often watched that face before, and wondered, 
 in his silent way, what gave it that look of contented, 
 tender brightness a subdued brightness that no 
 neglect nor half-concealed rudeness had the power 
 to ruffle for more than a moment. But now the 
 brightness was gone, and James, observing it, at last 
 blurted out 
 
 " Why do you care so much about it, ma'am ? I 
 will go to church with you if you like." 
 
 "Will you, my dear lad? I shall be very glad to 
 have you with me. And you, Dolly, won't you come 
 too ? " 
 
 Dolly hesitated for one moment. Mamma would 
 be angry with her if she went to church with Mrs. 
 Martin, that was certain ; but then Mamma's anger 
 was not a very dreadful thing, and she was so often 
 angry for such silly, insufficient reasons that perhaps 
 Dolly was not to blame that she did not care much 
 about it. The other girls would have almost died 
 rather than appear in public with that little prim,
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S ARRIVAL. 31 
 
 respectable, old-world figure ; but, curious to say, 
 Dolly bad not a tbougbt of tbat kind, so ungenteel 
 was sweet little Dolly. So sbe made up ber mind 
 to go. 
 
 "Yes, Granny," sbe said, "we'll go togetber; you 
 and I and Jem. 1 will order tbe carriage." 
 
 " no, dear not for me ! It is a fine day, and why 
 should we give tbe servants trouble of a Sunday ? 
 Let us walk, Dolly." 
 
 "Very well, Granny. I have no objection. Let 
 us go to the drawiug-room until it is time to get 
 ready." 
 
 James followed them into tbe drawing-room, and 
 taking up a book, held it as if he were reading, but 
 really be was still watching Mrs. Martin's face. She 
 lay back in an easy chair with her eyes closed, and 
 the pained look gradually faded away. 
 
 " Granny," said James. 
 
 " Well, dear heart ?" But James only got red and 
 was silent. 
 
 " What was it, Jem ? Didn't you speak to me ? " 
 
 "He said ' Granny,' ma'am, and that was a good 
 deal for Jem to say," remarked saucy Dolly. 
 
 "ButJie must have meant to say more." 
 
 " I don't know tbat ! When he and I take a walk, 
 he says, ' Dolly ! ' and cocks his head on one side, 
 like this ; and then I know that he hears a bird 
 singing; and I listen, and say it is very pretty. 
 Presently he says ' Dolly ! ' again, and cocks his eye, 
 like this ; then I know it is the view. And after a 
 while, he says ' Dolly ! ' in a tone of agony ; and then 
 I know that he sees some one corning who may speak 
 to us ; but he seldom says more than that."
 
 32 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 Jem laughed, and said "Dolly!" in a deprecating 
 tone ; and then wondered what the others laughed at 
 so heartily. 
 
 "You're a saucy little lassie, Miss Dolly, and I 
 ought not to encourage you this way. "What did he 
 mean when he said ' Granny,' just now ; for I sup- 
 pose you can tell me ? " 
 
 " I was not listening": Jem, could you say it 
 again, or tell us what you meant by it ?" 
 
 " Just this," said Jem ; " What makes you so 
 different from everybody else, Granny ; so much 
 happier, more contented, and more thoughtful for 
 others?" 
 
 " I'm no better than my neighbours, dear." 
 
 " Then your neighbours must all be very good," 
 said Dolly. " You 're a great deal better than our 
 neighbours." 
 
 "Well, if I am, dear, it's not myself; it's just 
 because because God helps me to be." 
 
 " And is that what makes you happy, ma'am?" said 
 James. 
 
 " Indeed it is, dear heart." 
 
 "How can I get Him to help me, for I'm not 
 happy, Granny ? I want something I always have, 
 though I never knew what it was." 
 
 " You want to know God," answered the old woman, 
 quietly. 
 
 " And how can I get to know Him ?" asked Jem. 
 
 " Come to church, for one thing; and there's the 
 bells beginning. Dolly, dear, make haste and get 
 ready ; don't let us be late." 
 
 She jumped up and escaped to her own room, for 
 she wanted time to think over what had passed, and
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S ARRIVAL. 33 
 
 what she ought to say to this poor boy if he spoke to 
 her again, as she had little doubt he would. 
 
 " So this is the work the Master brought me here 
 to do," she murmured, as she tied ou her little black 
 poke bonnet. " That dear lad, and bright, merry- 
 Dolly ! my poor, dear Tom, to think you 've let 
 things come to this ; and not a soul, servant or any- 
 one else, as I can see, thinking of going to church 
 this blessed day. Only for Dolly and Jem, I should 
 wish myself back in the plain, rough life, with my 
 good, God-fearing Stephen and the children. But I 
 do hope this is the work I was meant to do. For it 
 is not to help Tom, I fear ; he keeps away, and I feel 
 sure lie '11 not let me say two words to him ; and as 
 to Mary, poor soul ! But Jem and Dolly are dif- 
 ferent." 
 
 And having now pinned her shawl to her mind, 
 Mrs. Martin went down into the hall, where she 
 found the two young people waiting for her.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A STKAIGHT LINE. 
 
 AMES DOBBS had, of course, been at church 
 before often enough ; indeed, Mrs. Dobbs 
 generally went in great state, when the 
 day was fine, and neither too hot nor too 
 cold, nor too windy, nor too dusty, nor too 
 anything else, for a " delicate creature," as 
 she loved to call herself, to be out. Mrs. 
 Dobbs was fully possessed by the common but unac- 
 countable notion that it is a sign of superior gentility 
 to be weakly and sickly, and that good health (that 
 greatest of earthly blessings) is a thing to be apologised 
 for. There are fifty-two Sundays in the year, and I 
 really think Mrs. Dobbs went to church on at least 
 twenty of them ; and until her children grew up she 
 had always taken them with her. Of late, Dolly had 
 been the only daughter whose attendance she could 
 command, for Miranda and Belinda, naturally going a 
 little beyond their parents, preferred to stay at home 
 and read novels. And where Dolly went, James 
 followed ; so he had been at church sometimes, even 
 since he had ceased to be a child. He went simply 
 because Dolly went ; and I do not think he had ever 
 asked himself why any one went there what it all
 
 A STRAIGHT LINE. 35 
 
 meant ; and I am pretty sure that he had never attended 
 during the service, and quite sure that he slept during 
 the sermon. To-day, however, he went with different 
 feelings. Those last words of his conversation with 
 Mrs. Martin had set him thinking. " How can I get 
 to know Him ?" he had said : and she had answered, 
 " Come to church, for one thing." 
 
 If good Mrs. Martin had been studying Jem all his 
 life, she could not have done better than just say that, 
 and leave him to puzzle^ver it. For if his intellect 
 was slow, it was also patient. He could not learn 
 quickly, and there was nothing brilliant about him ; 
 but when once an idea got into his head, he turned it 
 over and over, and pondered it, until he had made it 
 a part of himself. And as he walked along, behind 
 Mrs. Martin and Dolly, he considered that short 
 sentence, and came to the conclusion that it was 
 nonsense to go to church to stare about or to doze, 
 for that it must be intended that something should be 
 learned there. So he made up his mind to attend 
 carefully, and perhaps, dull as he was, he might pick 
 up something. 
 
 Very soon they were in the church, and being early, 
 they easily found seats. And presently the service 
 began. 
 
 "I will arise and go to my Father, and will saj 
 unto Him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and 
 before Thee, and am no more worthy to be called Thy 
 son." 
 
 Often had he listened carelessly to those words, to- 
 day he listened with his heart. 
 
 Neither of service nor sermon did he lose one word 
 there was no comfortable doze for Jem that dav. 
 c 2
 
 36 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 When Dolly and Mrs. Martin had joined, the one 
 her fresh young voice, the other a little murmuring 
 " croon " to the closing hymn, they were ready to leave 
 the church ; and then they became aware that James 
 had deserted them. Nor was ho waiting at the door ; 
 nor did either of them see him again until they all met 
 at dinner. He had slipped away, feeling that he must 
 be alone, to think over, and make his own of what he 
 had heard. 
 
 No one at Ballydobbs could attend Evensong, 
 because dinner was ready at seven o'clock ; and the 
 evening was very long and tiresome, as Sunday evenings 
 were wont to be in that family. Mrs. Martin, indeed, 
 escaped it, because she went to bed, and Dolly escaped 
 not long afterwards and went to her own room, to 
 read what, we will not inquire. James had dis- 
 appeared again after dinner; but she knew that he 
 would come to say good-night, and therefore she did 
 not go to bed, which was her usual way of shortening 
 the dull Sunday evening. At last he knocked at the 
 door, and came in. 
 
 "Why, Jem, you are a bold man to venture near 
 me ; do you know that, sir ?" 
 
 "No, Dolly; why?" 
 
 " Oh, how innocent we are ; because you ran away, 
 sir, before church was over, and left me and Granny 
 to get home as best we could ! And then you never 
 came to take me out for a walk as usual, and so I 've 
 had to listen to Mime and Linda talking nonsense 
 about their partners all day, until at last I told them 
 they were a couple of geese, and ran away myself! " 
 
 " Dolly, was I rude ? I hope Mrs. Martin did not 
 think so?"
 
 A STKAIGHT LINE. 37 
 
 " Xo, no ! Don't look so vexed ; I was only in fun. 
 She did not mind a bit, dear kind old soul. I do love 
 her, Jem ; she is so real." 
 
 " She is. Dolly ; look here, Dolly ! " 
 
 "I'm looking. At least, I'm listening, which is 
 what you mean, I suppose." 
 
 " I want you to join me in asking Mrs. Martin to 
 teach us, Dolly. I know she is not an educated 
 woman," he added, in answer to her look of surprise, 
 " but she can teach us something that we know no- 
 thing about. Will you, Dolly ?" 
 
 " 1 11 do anything you like, dear," said Dolly, 
 heartily. 
 
 "You and I have always held together," James 
 said. " Good-night, Dolly, dear ! " 
 
 He kissed her, and was gone, leaving her more 
 puzzled than she had ever been before since she could 
 remember. 
 
 Next day there was a flower-show held in the town- 
 hall of Middlemore ; and thither, decked in bonnets 
 which were flower-shows in themselves, did Mrs. Dobbs 
 and her young people betake themselves. Mr. Dobbs 
 had left the house, as usual, soon after breakfast, and 
 had laid his commands upon his wife to ask Mrs. 
 Martin to go with her to the flower-show: but 
 Mrs. Dobbs contrived to do this in such fashion 
 that a much duller person than Mrs. Martin would 
 have declined. So Dolly refused to go either ; and 
 when the party was fairly gone, she and Mrs. Martin 
 established themselves in the smaller of the two 
 drawing-rooms, and produced their work. Mrs. Martin 
 was knitting a woollen jersey for one of her grand- 
 sons, and Dolly was dressing a doll for a bazaar at 

 
 38 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 which her elder sisters had promised to furnish a 
 table ; a promise which had at least provided Dolly 
 with plenty of the kind of work she liked and did 
 cleverly. 
 
 " I wonder where James is, Dolly ? I have not 
 seen the lad to-day. He's busy, I suppose." 
 
 "I have hardly seen him either, Granny; but I 
 am sure he is in the house, for he would have told 
 me if he was going out." 
 
 " How old is Jem, dear?" 
 
 " He will be eighteen next month." 
 
 " And, dear me, Dolly, does he never study any- 
 thing ? He 's too young to have given up learning, 
 when he's not called on to work for his bread." 
 
 Dolly reddened, and a very angry light came into 
 her usually merry eyes. 
 
 " Don't talk about that, Granny," said she, " for it 
 is one of the things I always get into a passion 
 about." 
 
 Having said this, she at once proceeded to talk 
 about it herself. 
 
 " It is a shame ; it is one of the things that makes 
 me inclined to hate them all ! Fitz and Harcourt 
 were kept at school until they were nineteen, and 
 Harcourt is going to college. They are clever, you 
 know. But they think Jem dull ; and would you 
 believe it, Granny, they took him away from school at 
 the same time as Harcourt, and have never given 
 him masters at home, or anything." 
 
 " Maybe he was not getting on, though. Was that 
 it, Dolly?" 
 
 " No, indeed ! The masters were satisfied with 
 him. He did not get on quickly he is not quick in
 
 A STRAIGHT LINE. 89 
 
 anything but he worked hard and was doing well. I 
 call it a shame I do indeed ! What is he to do ? 
 He cannot idle about here all his life, you know. I 
 have spoken to Mamma ever so often, and at last she 
 got quite angry, and bid me hold my tongue, for he 
 was a dull creature and would never do them credit, 
 so she was not going to waste money on him ! Why, 
 the money they spend in giving those parties would 
 pay for his schooling." 
 
 Mrs. Martin, though one of the most simple-minded 
 of women, was no fool, and had had a good deal of 
 experience; and the thought which came into her 
 mind as she listened to the girl's disclosures, was that 
 schooling is one of those things which must be paid 
 for at once. " Stephen was right," thought she. 
 
 " And when did you leave school, my dear ?" 
 
 " Too soon ! I left last year. But I don't care so 
 much about that ; though Miss Wilson was furious, 
 because she said I should have done her credit in a 
 year or two. You know it does not matter so much 
 about me, for I am a girl, and shall always be at 
 home, naturally ; and Mamma wanted me, for Mirrie 
 and Linda are of no use when she is poorly. But 
 Jem must some day do something for himself, and I 
 call it cruel to hush ! here he comes. I hear his 
 step." 
 
 James came in, with a rather unusual look upon 
 his face. Instead of glancing nervously round, ready 
 to shrink back if met by a sarcastic remark upon his 
 appearance or manner, he looked pre- occupied and 
 walked in quite boldy. 
 
 "Well, Jem, what have you been about all day?" 
 asked Dolly, gaily. "You did not know how snug
 
 40 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 Granny and I were here, all by ourselves, or you 
 would have made your appearance long ago." 
 
 " Yes, hut I was busy." 
 
 " Busy about what, Jem ? " 
 
 "Reading; and I found Mrs. Martin, I wanted 
 to read the whole story from which those words are 
 taken : ' I will arise,' you know ; and I found a 
 Bible and read it. And I want you, if you will take 
 the trouble, ma'am, to explain some things in it. 
 Dolly, did you ask her, as I said last night ? " 
 
 "No, because I did not understand what you 
 want, Jem/' 
 
 "Mrs. Martin, Dolly and I would you teach us to 
 understand the things you spoke of yesterday ? I am 
 afraid you must think me very forward to ask this ; 
 and you '11 find me very dull ; but I don't know how it 
 is, I feel I must ask questions and learn about this. 
 It is what I have been wanting all my life ; and I do 
 want it so badly." 
 
 Dolly stared, and even pinched herself to make sure 
 that she was awake, and that this was indeed Jem 
 dull, silent, shy Jem, who, even to her, seldom talked 
 much, and never about himself or his feelings. 
 What had come to him ? She did not understand him 
 in the least, and it only added to her puzzle to see 
 that Mrs. Martin evidently did. She listened eagerly 
 to what passed. 
 
 " You want it badly, James. I am right glad to 
 hear it, dear lad ; for as sure as you want, you '11 get. 
 Tell me, though, why do you want it ? " 
 
 " Want what ? " said Dolly ; but they did not hear 
 her. 
 
 "I want it, because life seems to me so empty.
 
 A STRAIGHT LINE. 41 
 
 There seemed to be nothing for me to do, no place for 
 me, no one who cared for me but Dolly she always 
 did and only for that I must have run away long ago. 
 I feel all astray, you know ; nothing to hold on by, 
 nothing to look forward to ; and nobody to care, or 
 help me. But since yesterday " 
 
 "Ay, Jeru, since yesterday. I'm listening, dear 
 lad, don't stop. I saw there was something working 
 in your mind ; what is it ? " 
 
 " ' I will arise and go to my Father,' " said James, 
 quietly. " It seems to me, ma'am, that if I can find 
 that Father, I shall have all I want." 
 
 " And so you will, dear lad ; you may take my word 
 for that." 
 
 " Yes, but how am I to go ? The next thing I 
 heard (in church, you know) was stay, I can't 
 remember it rightly." 
 
 There was a beautiful Church- service, bound in 
 crimson velvet, on the table, and Jem took it up and 
 read the Confession. 
 
 " That ought to be the next step, I suppose, 
 Granny?" 
 
 " James, you came asking me to teach you, but it 's 
 my belief that you 've a better teacher than old Bess 
 Dobbs, or any one else on earth. Yes, my dear lad, 
 the next step is to feel that we are sinners, and to 
 confess it." 
 
 "But Jem isn't a sinner!" cried Dolly, half 
 laughing, half angry. "He is a great deal better 
 than most people." 
 
 " Dolly, you know nothing about it," said James, 
 quickly. How strangely the two had changed places ! 
 for generally she was the leader, the explainer, the
 
 42 MKS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 one quick to see and understand everything. Ah, but 
 in this learning, child-like simplicity and a very 
 humble heart are needed, and these Jem had. 
 
 "Why, Jem," the girl said uneasily, " you've not 
 been doing bad things unknown to me ? " 
 
 "Nothing that you don't know of, dear; only you 
 can't see into me. I know how true it is that I have 
 done things I ought not to have done, and left 
 undone things that I ought to have done." 
 
 " Now, Jem, do behave sensibly ; Granny will just 
 think that you are a young scamp. If you have done 
 nothing that I don't know of, I can answer for you 
 that you have nothing on your conscience." 
 
 " I feel the sin in my heart," said James, simply. 
 
 " Oh, well !" said Dolly, taking up her work again, 
 and speaking with a raised colour and in rather a 
 sharp voice, "I shall never make much progress in 
 this kind of learning if one must begin by saying that 
 one is a dreadful sinner, for I really can't say it. In 
 fact, I know I am not." 
 
 " The question is what is sin ? " put in Mrs. 
 Martin. 
 
 "Why, telling lies, stealing, coveting, swearing 
 breaking the commandments, in short," answered 
 Dolly. 
 
 " Breaking God's law in any way," said Mrs. 
 Martin. 
 
 " I don't understand a word you are saying," 
 remarked Dolly. 
 
 " Because I am bad at teaching, my dear. Stephen 
 generally teaches his young folk himself, so I am sure 
 you find it hard to understand me ; but I '11 try to ex- 
 plain my meaning. Suppose you had to rule a straight
 
 A STRAIGHT LINE. 43 
 
 line, and it must be perfectly straight; and your 
 hand slipped, and you made ever such a little bend, 
 or hitch, in one part of it, would it be a perfect straight 
 line?" 
 
 "No but if it was straight on the whole, it would 
 do." 
 
 " Ah, Dolly ! that 'a the question. If it is not 
 straight, it 's not straight, and that 's all about it." 
 
 " Well, but," said Dolly, defiantly, " where 's the 
 hitch in my line ? What part of the commandments 
 do I not keep ? " 
 
 " Oh, my dear child ! The question is, what part do 
 you keep or any of us ; I'm not saying you 're worse 
 than others. Every angry word, every angry thought 
 even, unless we have just cause for it and keep it 
 within bounds ; every idle, unkind speech ah ! Dolly, 
 don't ask nie, but pray that you may get to know 
 yourself, and then you won't doubt whether you are a 
 sinner or not." 
 
 Dolly was silent and went on with her work. Mrs. 
 Martin and James had a great deal of conversation, 
 but she did not attend to it. She had a curious 
 feeling as if she longed to follow James, and yet was 
 half angry to find their positions reversed, and James 
 trying to lead her. Moreover, she had a very good 
 opinion of herself, and these new ideas were not 
 pleasant. So she pouted her pretty red lips, and 
 pricked her fingers sadly as she dressed her gay doll ; 
 and felt quite relieved when the party returned from 
 the flower-show, and James, hearing the knock, left 
 the room. Mrs. Martin also went to put away her 
 knitting, for Mrs. Dobbs so plainly disliked to see her 
 at work at so common an article as a jersey, that she
 
 44 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 never worked at it, except when alone with Dolly, 
 keeping a soft, fleecy shawl for " company work." 
 
 "Why, who has been meddling with my beautiful 
 Church-service ? " exclaimed Mrs Dobbs, as soon as 
 she was in the room. " Look at it, lying on the floor, 
 fallen cff the table evidently ; very careless of Anne, 
 and I shall give her a right good scolding." 
 
 " Oh, it was not Anne, Mamma," said Dolly. 
 
 " Then it was Mrs. Martin, I suppose ? " 
 
 Dolly was silent. 
 
 " Well, I declare, if she must read the Bible at such 
 odd times, she might use one of her own. It is a very 
 great liberty, and " 
 
 Here Mrs. Martin opened the door and came in, 
 and Mrs. Dobbs turned to her. 
 
 "Dear Mrs. Martin, it was quite a pity you could 
 not make up your mind to come with us. Such roses ! 
 I declare it made me feel quite ashamed of ours, and 
 so I shall tell M'Clure. We pay him so highly, we 
 really ought to have as good roses as any one else." 
 
 Dolly felt virtuously indignant, for a moment, at 
 her mother's deceitful sweetness. For a moment only, 
 for then it struck her that she had been quite as 
 deceitful when she allowed Mrs. Martin to bear the 
 blame of Jem's awkwardness. But then, Mrs. 
 Martin would not be scolded, and poor dear Jem did 
 get so snubbed. Yes ; but how about that straight 
 line? 
 
 Then Miranda and Belinda, while refreshing them- 
 selves with cups of tea, began talking, as foolish girls 
 do talk sometimes, about the gentlemen they had met 
 at the flower-show. I need not repeat all they said, 
 for it was very silly stuff, without even a bit of fun to
 
 A STRAIGHT LINE. 45 
 
 brighten it up. But at last Miranda observed com- 
 placently 
 
 "Yes, I really think, Linda, that Major Douglas is 
 getting quite particular in his attentions to me. He 
 said to-day that my name ought to be Eose, and that 
 I was " 
 
 Now Dolly had a curious distaste to this kind of 
 talk; she was far more acute than either of her 
 sisters, and knew very well what the young men who 
 crowded their rooms on Thursday nights really thought 
 of them ; moreover, she was a little out of temper just 
 now, so instead of allowing poor silly Miranda to finish 
 her sentence in peace, she interrupted her with 
 
 " Major Douglas ! and do you really think, Mirrie, 
 that he admires* you ? Why, he 's as proud as 
 Lucifer ! He thinks himself (and indeed he is too) 
 very much above us. And I can tell you, my dear, 
 that all the time he is making silly speeches to you, 
 he is only laughing at you in his sleeve. I know it, 
 for I have heard the others saying, to look at him, and 
 laughing about it." 
 
 "Laughing at me!" exclaimed Miranda, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 "Yes, indeed, at you; and no wonder, for you do 
 make a great fool of yourself about him." 
 
 Miranda burst into tears, Linda scolded, Mrs. 
 Dobbs talked a little, and cried a little, in her usual 
 weak way. Mrs. Martin got up, looked gravely at 
 Dolly, and left the room. And naughty Dolly, who 
 had been enjoying the storm she had raised, sud- 
 denly remembered a verse of the Bible which she had 
 learned at school (poor child, she had learned nothing 
 good at home): "Be pitiful, be courteous." Well,
 
 46 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 but she had only spoken the truth. Yes, hut this 
 "Be pitiful, be courteous," is a direct command; 
 how, then, about that straight line ? 
 
 She jumped up impatiently, and ran out into her 
 garden, to try if change of place would bring pleasant 
 > thoughts ; but go where she would, that straight line 
 would not get out of her head, and even James found 
 her a little cross that evening. 
 
 When he came to her room to say good-night, he 
 said to her wistfully, "Dolly, I've vexed you some- 
 how, but won't you forgive me ? " 
 
 Dolly began to cry, to his great amazement. 
 
 "It is not your fault, Jem, it is myself. I 've been 
 as cross as two sticks all the evening. Give me a 
 kiss, my good, patient, kind old Jem, and I '11 be good 
 to-morrow." 
 
 "Dolly, isn't it a blessing Mrs. Martin came 
 here?" 
 
 " Well, now, Jem, I can't say I think so ; we did 
 very well without her." 
 
 " Dolly ! never mind, dear, you '11 change your 
 mind, I am sure you will." 
 
 " Good-night, Jem. Bother Mrs. Martin and her 
 old straight line ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " said Jem, " but isn't it nice for a dull 
 fellow like me that it is a straight line, easy to find 
 and easy to follow ? "
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S DEPARTURE. 
 
 awoke next morning rather earlier 
 than she cared to get up, and as she lay 
 enjoying a delicious hour of half-waking 
 sleep, that tiresome notion of the straight 
 line came into her head. She actually 
 gave a little kick to her bedclothes, and 
 said aloud, "I will not be bothered about that old 
 straight line any more." Still she could by no means 
 forget it, and at last, being now wide awake, she gave 
 herself up to meditation, of which meditation the result 
 was this. Jem was a darling, there was no one like 
 him in the world ; and if his happiness depended upon 
 keeping to this weary straight line, and getting her to 
 do the same, why, do it she must. And, after all, it 
 would be pleasant and easy. One had only to read 
 the Bible, and do everything it told you to do, and 
 there was your line straight enough. And one would 
 feel so comfortable ! No doubts as to whether a thing 
 was right or not. No wonder Jem said it was easy ; 
 and in fact it must be easy, or he would not understand 
 about it so quickly. Ah, Miss Dolly ! but it is only 
 plain to those who look for it humbly. 
 
 Intent upon these thoughts, she got up presently,
 
 48 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 and when dressed, went to a light closet inside her 
 room, where she kept her school-books and various 
 other possessions. After some search she possessed 
 herself of her school Bible, which she found in a 
 corner, very dusty. 
 
 "A shame for Anne to have such a dusty corjaer," 
 said Dolly, as she hastily dusted her book. Then she 
 sat down in the window of her bedroom, to read. 
 
 " But I've never said my prayers," muttered Dolly ; 
 "that would make a serious hitch in the line I 
 suppose." 
 
 So she knelt down near the window, as her custom 
 was, for she sometimes took a peep at the garden 
 while thus engaged. However, on this occasion 
 she did not peep; she said her prayers slowly and 
 attentively, and rose with the feeling that in this 
 respect at least she had ruled her line uncommonly 
 straight. 
 
 " Now, what shall I read ? I suppose I had better 
 begin at the beginning. One ought to know the 
 whole Bible, for fear something might be left undone." 
 
 So she read the first two or three chapters of 
 Genesis, and then put a mark in the place. Turning 
 the leaves over idly, as she sat there waiting for the 
 breakfast bell to ring, she presently lighted upon the 
 parable of the Publican and the Pharisee who went up 
 into the temple to pray. She read it through ; and 
 into her head came the strange idea, " When I have 
 been keeping to this straight line for a good long 
 time, I shall be something like this Pharisee, I 
 think. I wonder why he was in the wrong; he 
 seems to have been a good man, unless, of course, he 
 was telling lies. What is a Pharisee, by the way?
 
 . MARTIN'S DEPARTURE. 49 
 
 St. Paul was one. I remember dear, good Miss 
 Wilson's lessons about him a little. Well, there 's 
 the bell at last ; I declare all this thinking has made 
 me very hungry." 
 
 She laid the Bible on the window seat and ran off. 
 
 Poor Dolly ! She began that day with such a 
 resolution to keep to the straight line, and such a 
 conviction that it was easy to do it. And need I say 
 that before evening she had utterly failed ? She knew 
 it ; she had been saucy to her mother, rude to her 
 sisters, and disobliging to Harcourt, who wanted a 
 button sewed on his glove in a hurry. Had it been 
 quite true, either, to say that she was busy when he 
 made the request, when she was only reading a novel ? 
 These were, most of them, little things ; but Dolly 
 had sense enough to know, and candour enough to 
 acknowledge, that it was in little things only that she 
 had a chance of leaving, or keeping to, the straight 
 line. 
 
 It happened that Mrs. Martin had gone out that 
 day, attended by James, who offered to be her escort, 
 in order to look up a few of her old Manchester 
 friends. These were all in a humble way of life, and 
 for this reason this expedition was very displeasing 
 to Mrs. Dobbs, and it was, indeed, about this very 
 matter that Dolly was saucy to her mother. Neither 
 Mrs. Martin nor Jem being at hand, Dolly had no one 
 to consult in her unexpected difficulty ; and on reflec- 
 tion she was glad of this, as she determined to give 
 herself another day or two before she confessed herself 
 defeated. It would take me too long if I were to enter 
 at length into an account of the steps by which she 
 was brought to see that she did not and could not 
 
 D
 
 50 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 keep to the straight line without help ; but before 
 long she did see it, and was as anxious as James 
 himself to get Mrs. Martin to explain matters and 
 to advise her. How many a pleasant, quiet hour 
 did these three spend together, generally in the little 
 breakfast-room. James always had questions to ask, 
 which Mrs. Martin would answer to the best of her 
 ability; and as she knew her Bible very well, she 
 was by no means a bad teacher. But as it had been 
 at the beginning, so it continued to be to the last of 
 these talks. James, the dull boy of the family, took 
 in this new learning easily, readily, as if it had been 
 his necessary food ; Dolly, bright, clever Dolly, found 
 it far more perplexing and less delightful. Still she 
 did learn, and it was not long before she was ready to 
 say with Jem, " What a blessing it is that Mrs. Martin 
 came here ! " 
 
 But the time was drawing near when Mrs. Martin 
 must leave her pupils and return to Australia. She 
 had already stayed longer than was convenient or 
 pleasant to herself, partly on their account, partly in 
 the hope that her stepson would speak openly to her 
 at last, and make it possible for her to let him have 
 the money she had brought with her. Stephen 
 Martin's directions had been; that if she found that 
 Tom was really, as he said, and as men in business often 
 are, only hampered for want of a sum of ready money, 
 while his business was sound and good, and there 
 was a reasonable hope that this money would set him 
 all right again, then, even if there were a serious risk, 
 Tom was to have the money. For Stephen Martin 
 had always been very fond of Tom, and being a pros- 
 perous man, was ready to risk a little to help him.
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S DEPARTURE. 51 
 
 But Stephen Martin had always disliked and dis- 
 trusted Mrs. Dobbs, and he knew that his half-brother 
 (quarter-brother, rather, if there is such a relation) 
 was a very weak man in some ways, and was not a 
 person of steady principle. So he charged his mother 
 that if she found the family living in an extravagant 
 way, spending every penny they could lay hands on ; 
 and if the business would not bear inspection, she 
 was to bring him back his money. Mrs. Martin had 
 made several attempts to get Mr. Dobbs to talk to her 
 frankly, and had told him plainly that she was bound 
 to satisfy herself about his business before she advanced 
 the money. This she proposed to do by employing a 
 very honest, capable man, a friend and correspondent 
 of Stephen's, to go over Mr. Dobbs' books with him, 
 and then to make her understand enough for her 
 purpose. But to this Mr. Dobbs would by no means 
 consent ; he, on his part, offered to show his books 
 to Mrs. Martin herself, and to explain everything to 
 her satisfaction. However, she justified her son's 
 choice of a messenger, by simply refusing, on the 
 ground that she was not capable of forming an 
 opinion. Then Mr. Dobbs declared that his feelings 
 were hurt at Stephen's mistrust, and that he had 
 made other arrangements, and no longer wanted the 
 money ; and Mrs. Martin tried to believe him, but 
 she carried out her instructions, and Mr. Dobbs did 
 not get the money. 
 
 " Granny, Granny, what shall we do without 
 you?" exclaimed Dolly, when Mrs. Martin told her 
 two favourites that she must set out on her homeward 
 journey in a few days. 
 
 " Why, my dear, you 've learned all, I think, that I 
 D2
 
 52 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 could teach you ; and you 've learned to look to a 
 better Friend than old Bess Dobbs. And I 've done 
 all I can in the matter that brought me here, little 
 enough that is, too, except to get a sore heart. And 
 the children and Stephen want me home again." 
 
 " I don't wonder at that, Granny ; nor do I wonder 
 that you would like to be out of this," Dolly answered, 
 with a sigh ; for of late Mrs. Dobbs had scarcely been 
 civil to her guest. 
 
 "For many reasons, it. 's best for me to go, dear. 
 When I first came, I remember saying to myself that 
 even if I did no good in one way, yet perhaps, after all, 
 the Master had work for me to do in this house ; and 
 you see, so He had. We three may never meet again 
 in this life, for you know I 'm getting an old woman 
 now, and I feel as if this long journey had taken a 
 good deal out of me; but I have a good hope we 
 shall meet in the happy country where there will be 
 no more sea. No oceans to part us there, you know. 
 Dear me, children, I shall be main glad when I see 
 you coming ; I shall watch for you, as fondly as for 
 my own dear children over the sea yonder. James, my 
 dear lad, I 've been thinking about your prospects a 
 good deal lately. It seems a pity for you to be doing 
 nothing." 
 
 " I can't go on like that any more, Granny. I have 
 a plan that seems a good one, if you will help me ? " 
 
 " To be sure I will, dear, if I can." 
 
 " I want you to speak to my father for me. When 
 I was at school, I was slow at everything except 
 arithmetic. I was said to be very good at that. And 
 if my father would go to the expense of some lessons 
 for me in book-keeping, I would work hard until I
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S DEPARTURE. 53 
 
 was fit for a place as accountant ; a good accountant 
 need never want work I 've heard. I write a bad hand, 
 but 1 11 work at that too, and improve myself." 
 
 " I '11 speak about it to-morrow, Jem, when I tell 
 him I am going away, and I have little doubt he will 
 do what I ask. "When you are ready to take a 
 situation, my dear lad, get one, and make yourself 
 independent. Now, don't think little of that advice, 
 Jem ; but bear it in mind, and act upon it." 
 
 "I will, Granny," said James, looking up quickly 
 at her. " Don't be afraid, I know it is good advice." 
 
 " And now, Dolly, my little woman, I'm going to 
 make myself busy in your affairs." 
 
 " Do, Granny, or I shall be jealous of Jem. He 's 
 not to get all the advice." 
 
 "But I don't think you will altogether like my 
 advice, little one, for you won't see the reason of it. 
 Now that you have learned to think rightly on serious 
 subjects, Dolly, I am sure you feel that you couldn't 
 live for nothing but balls and parties." 
 
 "I never felt as if I could do that, Granny; but 
 now less than ever." 
 
 " Then you '11 be surprised, Dolly, at what I 'm 
 going to say. You won't be doing right, my dear, if 
 you refuse to follow the rest altogether, and separate 
 yourself from them. No, indeed, dear, you need not 
 look so amazed. You would have to disobey your 
 mother, you know ; and you must neither do that nor 
 set up your own opinion and judgment, and tell them 
 that you are right and they are wrong." 
 
 " Who, ma'am?" said Dolly, mischievously. 
 
 "You know what I mean now, so don't make 
 me speak too plain. You must be wise, and think and
 
 54 MBS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 pray over things. And when you are asked to go 
 here and there, go pleasantly sometimes, and be 
 always pleasant at home. You may end in getting 
 some influence over them, and putting better things 
 into their heads, poor things ; but mind me, Dolly,- 
 you '11 never do that by keeping to yourself and saying 
 sharp things." 
 
 At which Dolly laughed and blushed. 
 
 "I don't say sharp things so often now, Granny. 
 I will remember what you say. Oh, how I *vish you 
 would be here to advise me ! " 
 
 " You 've a better Counsellor, child. And, Dolly, 
 I wish you'd be learning to do something useful. 
 Dear heart, but it hurts me to see you using your 
 clever hands in nothing but making useless fal-lals 
 for bazaars ; and the time may come when your com- 
 fort, ay, and the comfort of more than yourself, may 
 just depend upon your knowing how to do things." 
 
 " Comfort ! Granny ! there are always plenty 
 of people to do useful, tiresome things. Don't you 
 think it would be a waste of time ?" 
 
 " Indeed I don't ! I 'd have every woman know how 
 to make a bed, clean a room, and cook a dinner that 
 one could eat. Ay, and able to cut out and make her 
 own clothes too." 
 
 " Well now, Granny, why .should I learn to do all 
 that ? I don't want to live idle, you know, but the 
 servants do all that and the dressmakers, of course. 
 And if I set to work and learned to do it all, in the 
 end I should never equal their work, and when I had 
 learned it, it would never be of any use to me." 
 
 " You don't know that ! Suppose you marry a poor 
 man ? Then you won't be able to pay high wages to
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S DEPARTURE. 55 
 
 your servants, so you '11 have to put up with girls 
 that have their work to learn. And who 's to teach 
 them, if their mistress does not know the least thing 
 about it ? And if Jem gets a situation, and wants 
 .you for a housekeeper, would it not be well to know 
 something about housekeeping?" 
 
 " I suppose so. I never looked at it in that way." 
 
 "But look at it now, dear, and promise me that 
 when I am gone you will coax cook and Anne to 
 teach you what you want to know; .and learil a little 
 dressmaking, it 's always useful." 
 
 Granny spoke with more earnestness than Dolly 
 could quite understand ; but the girl could not refuse 
 what her old friend was- so plainly anxious about, 
 particularly Avhen Jem added 
 
 "I wish you would, Dolly. I should like my 
 housekeeper to be a knowledgeable body." 
 
 Dolly laughed and promised, little guessing at tho 
 secret reasons which made them urge her. For Jem 
 had his suspicions, though he kept them to himself. 
 
 Mrs. Martin kept her promise and spoke to her 
 stepson about James. Now, for some unknown reason, 
 Mr. Dobbs had of late taken quite a dislike, apparently, 
 to James. He said, when Mrs. Martin tried to 
 soften him towards the lad, that his feelings arose 
 from Jem's dull ways, so unlike all his other children ; 
 but the plain truth, if he dared have faced it, was that 
 he saw that James dimly distrusted him of late, and 
 felt that he, being young and single-minded, would 
 be a severe judge if his own dishonesty should ever be 
 disclosed. However, he promised that the boy should 
 have a good tutor, and that he would get him into 
 some office when he was ready for it. Then Mrs.
 
 56 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 Martin asked leave for Jem to go with her to Liverpool 
 to see her off, and though Miranda and Belinda 
 tittered and giggled at her choice of an escort, James 
 went, and took very good care of the dear old woman, 
 whose visit to England he had such good reason to 
 remember thankfully. Then he came home, and set 
 to work in good earnest to prepare for making himself 
 independent, which, for reasons he never hinted at 
 even to Dolly, was the most earnest wish of his 
 heart. 
 
 Business matters are not very interesting, but still 
 the course of my story obliges me to take some notice 
 of Mr. Dobbs' doings in that line, and all I can do is to 
 make it as short as I can. It happened, just after 
 Mrs. Martin left England, that tfie town-hall of 
 Middlemore (where the flower-show had been held) 
 was burnt to the ground ; and as Middlemore was a 
 rising town, the business men determined to build a 
 new and a very superior town-hall. For this purpose 
 a large sum of money was collected, and Mr. Dobbs 
 was chosen to be the treasurer. Then a committee 
 was appointed to select a design and make arrange- 
 ments with an architect; and this committee quar- 
 relled over the rival merits of two rival architects, 
 and got into such a hopeless state of anger and 
 confusion, that there seemed but little hope that the 
 question would ever be decided. Nothing more was 
 done, and the money lay idle in Mr. Dobbs' hands. 
 Now, not having succeeded in getting that money 
 from Mrs. Martin, affairs had reached such a crisis 
 with Mr. Dobbs, that he must have a large sum at 
 once or call a meeting of his creditors, and ask fcr 
 time to retrieve his affairs. When he mentioned the
 
 MRS. MARTIN'S DEPARTURE. 57 
 
 latter alternative to his wife, she wept and bewailed 
 herself, and declared that he would ruin all his child- 
 ren ; and, between crying and scolding, she got him to 
 promise to put off the evil day as long as he could. 
 To this end he, not confiding the mad, dishonest 
 action even to his wife, used a great part of the 
 money entrusted to him, hoping that some successful 
 venture would enable him to replace it before the 
 committee made up its quarrel. 
 
 Many a shabby, grasping, barely honest thing had 
 he done before. For several years his prosperity had 
 been declining, and money getting scarcer and 
 scarcer ; but never before had he put himself in the 
 terrible position he now filled. He was indeed a 
 miserable man, and his temper became so uncertain 
 that he made his home miserable too. Mrs. Dobbs, 
 seeing the sad change in her once kind and easy- 
 going husband, began to dread the future more 
 and more every day. And even then a word from 
 her might have saved him. By prompt measures 
 realising every penny he possessed, and selling house 
 and furniture he might have replaced the trust 
 money, and begun the world again with fair hopes 
 of success. But Mrs. Dobbs never said that word ; 
 she clung to her fine house, and fine company, and 
 fine dress, and to her hopes of rich marriages for 
 her children ; and what the end of it all was we 
 shall soon see. 
 
 So passed away several months. During this time 
 Fitz became engaged to Miss Darwin, although, as 
 her guardians refused to give consent, they could 
 not be married until she was of age, which she 
 would be in six months. Fitz was quite content to
 
 58 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 wait, but Mrs. Dobbs, who bad never reckoned on 
 such a delay in her plans, was dreadfully annoyed 
 about it. 
 
 As to Miranda and Belinda, they were in a sad plight. 
 The regiment quartered in Middlemore was changed, 
 and away went all their admirers, even that dreadful 
 Major Douglas ! and neither of the girls was married, 
 or even engaged. Mrs. Dobbs was really cross with 
 them about it, which was surely hard on them, for it 
 certainly was not their fault. They were as ready to 
 be married as girls who are taught to consider a " good 
 match " the highest possible blessing, and any match 
 better than none, generally are. Everything they 
 did, they did it in the hope of getting married, and it 
 was really hard to imagine what they would do with 
 themselves when this object should be either attained 
 or plainly unattainable. What a miserable fate girls 
 prepare for themselves who live as these poor silly 
 things did ! If for no higher and better reason, yet 
 surely for their own peace and happiness, such a state 
 of affairs ought to be as dreadful to every girl as it is 
 disgusting in the eyes of every sensible being. 
 
 Dolly had not forgotten her promise to her dear 
 granny, and in spite of her mother's lamentations over 
 her low tastes and general want of gentility, she 
 apprenticed herself to cook, housemaid, and dress- 
 maker, and being quick and clever, she found these 
 employments very amusing. She really had a genius 
 for cooking, and soon took great pride in her cakes, 
 etc. Truth to say, Jem's housekeeper was ready long 
 before he had a house to keep, though the time when 
 he must try what he could do for himself was nearer 
 than he imagined.
 
 MRS. MAKTIN S DEPARTURE. 
 
 59 
 
 I have a dim idea that this is rather a dull chapter. 
 I hope you admire my candour. If it is, I can only 
 plead " extenuating circumstances." First, it is 
 necessary. Secondly, it is short. Thirdly, I won't 
 do it again. Fourthly, I don't think it is so dull 
 after all. My readers may now conclude for them- 
 selves to what nation I belong.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 
 
 T so happened that one day Mr. Fitzgerald 
 Dobbs left home for the purpose of going 
 to his father's office, as usual. Fitz 
 had begun to growl a good deal lately, 
 concerning the terrible amount of work ' 
 "the governor" now expected him to do, 
 contrary to his practice heretofore, which had been to 
 do the work himself, and let Fitz read novels. But 
 now, to that young gentleman's great disgust, mfcch 
 copying and answering of letters was handed over to 
 him to be done while " the governor " either sat in 
 moody thought, or busied himself in calculations which 
 he never showed to his son. If Fitz had not been ex- 
 ceedingly idle and careless, he must have suspected 
 that all was not well ; but he never gave himself 
 time to discover anything, but simply got through 
 his work as fast as he could, and left the office. 
 On the fine sunny day in question, however, he 
 never reached the office at all, for he met some 
 friends who were going on a pleasure excursion, and 
 being invited to accompany them, he did so, without 
 even sending word to his father lhat he proposed 
 absenting himself. Presently a boy came from the
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 01 
 
 office to Ballydobbs House, with a note for Mrs. 
 Dobbs. 
 
 " Send Fitz to me at once. Indian Mail goes to- 
 night, and there are letters to be written in time. Tell 
 him to come, for I will stand no nonsense about it. 
 
 "T. H. DOBBS." 
 
 " Upon my word, my dears, your papa is becoming 
 a perfect bear," said Mrs. Dobbs to her daughters 
 after reading this missive aloud. " He has no con- 
 sideration for my nerves, not the least. How am I 
 to send Fitz to him, when I don't know where the boy 
 is?" 
 
 " He left home to go to the office," said Dolly, " for 
 I was talking to him in the hall." 
 
 "But he did not go," said Belinda. " I was up- 
 stairs in my room, watching the officers' drag, with 
 ever so many of them in it, coming along the road ; 
 aucfrFitz met it, and after some talk he jumped up 
 beside Captain Palmer, who was driving, and went 
 with them. I wonder where they were going ? Some 
 picnic, I suppose." 
 
 " Picnic ! and none of us asked ! "Well, I must 
 say, after the kindness those young men have received 
 here, and the expense I go to entertaining them, 
 I do think this very ungrateful and very hard upon 
 us." 
 
 Miranda was ready to cry, and Belinda to scold, 
 but Dolly quietly remarked 
 
 "Don't you know it is the day for Lady 's 
 
 archery meeting ? That 's where they are going, y r ou 
 may be sure." ^ 
 
 Now as an invitation to these archery meetings was
 
 62 1 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 
 
 one of the good things for which the Dohhses longed, 
 and longed in vain, this sobered the family ; and Dolly 
 went on to say 
 
 " Shall I see if Jem is in the house, Mamma ? He 
 could write these letters for India, and I will run at 
 once and find him." 
 
 " Do so, my darling gift," drawled Mrs. Dobhs. 
 " Go, you need not run, Dorothea; and do not speak 
 so quick. It is not genteel," added the would-be fine 
 lady. Doily was too well used to these remarks to 
 feel amused by them, and she tried hard not to be 
 annoyed. She went in search of James, and told him 
 of his father's need of help ; and poor Jem was quite 
 pleased at the idea of being useful. So off he went, 
 in high spirits. 
 
 The Dobbses dined at seven o'clock, and Mr. Dobbs 
 (who, unhappy man, sometimes found a little comfort 
 in good eating) was generally home in good time. 
 James too had a fine, healthy appetite, and was 
 always punctual ; but to-day, seven o'clock half-past 
 seven eight o'clock, arrived, and still neither of 
 them appeared. Cook was outrageous, Mrs. Dobbs 
 in a state of genteel annoyance, and the young 
 people very hungry ! Presently the expected knock 
 was heard, and steps approached. Mrs. Dobbs 
 draw herself up, prepared to deliver a lecture, but 
 to the surprise of the whole party, it was Thomas 
 the footman who appeared, and not the pair of 
 culprits. 
 
 " If you please, ma'am, master wants you ; he is 
 in his own room. Miss Dorothea, Mr. James says 
 you are to go to him in his room, if you please." 
 "What can be wrong?" exclaimed Dolly, as she
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 63 
 
 ran off. But Mrs. Dobbs only turned very pale, and 
 went at once to her husband. 
 
 Dolly flew upstairs to Jem's foom, and to her 
 further amazement she found him taking all his 
 clothes, books, and other belongings out of his 
 drawers and off his shelves, and arranging them in 
 methodical heaps on the bed. 
 
 " What are you about, Jem ? " 
 
 "Packing. Dolly, I'm going away. Help me, 
 Dolly dear, and don't ask me any questions." 
 
 But this was asking too much of any girl who ever 
 possessed the organ of curiosity and the use of her 
 tongue. 
 
 " Leaving home ! Going away ! Jem, where are 
 you going ? Why are you in such a hurry ? Has 
 Papa got you a situation ? " 
 
 "No, he has not. I don't know where I shall go. 
 To Manchester first, and try for employment." 
 
 "But if you have not got a clerkship why are you 
 going?" persisted Dolly, with wide open eyes and a 
 frightened face. 
 
 " That's what I must not tell you, and you must 
 not ask. I have reasons, Dolly good reasons. You 
 <?an trust me, can't you? I cannot stay, and besides, 
 rfly father desired me to leave the house." 
 
 " Then I shall go with you, Jem. Trust you ! of 
 course I can, and do. Whoever is to blame, it is not 
 you. I know how much you've borne, and now I 
 suppose you cannot bear this, whatever it is. You 
 shan't go alone. I'll go too ! " 
 
 James laid down the coat he was folding, and took 
 his impetuous little sister in his arms, in order to 
 give her several hearty and by no means genteel kisses.
 
 64 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 Then he sat down on the window seat, drawing her 
 down beside him. 
 
 '* My own kind, warm-hearted darling Dolly ! " he 
 said tenderly.' "Don't I know you would stand by 
 me to the end of the world ? but you can't come with 
 me now, Dolly. Listen to me, and don't put me out, 
 for you know I'm not bright, and if you put me out 
 I shan't be able say what I mean. I have found out 
 at least, I have come to know something which 
 makes it impossible for me to stay in this house, doing 
 nothing for my own support. It would be wrong of 
 me. If you ever come to know anything I will 
 explain all to you, dear. I would 1 do so now, only I 
 promised I would not ; and I did not mind promising, 
 because I feel that it is better, and more right, not to 
 tell you. You must be guided by me, Dolly." 
 
 "Yes," said Dolly, much divided in her mind 
 between a desire to rebel, and pride in Jem's manly 
 and commanding tone ; for, woman-like, she thought 
 twice as much of her darling when he took upon him- 
 self to give her orders. " Yes, Jem ; only, if it is 
 right for you to go, is it right for me to stay ? " 
 
 " I am sure it is. By-and-by, Dolly, you will come 
 to me." 
 
 "Jem," cried the girl, who being given to reading 
 works of fiction, had various wild ideas founded on 
 her favourite tales floating in her head, " Jem, is 
 it possible you 've discovered that you 're not his 
 son not Papa's and Mamma's child? Oh, is it 
 that?" 
 
 "No, you little goose," said James, half laughing. 
 " That's all right, never fear. You must not question 
 me, Dolly, only just believe me, I am not to blame ;
 
 'Then she helped him to pack up his good*, too much taken by surprise to try." 
 
 Page 64.
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 65 
 
 and I would give a great deal that you may never 
 know what what has done it. Dolly, can you get 
 ms a trunk? I have my school trunk and a bag, 
 but they won't hold all my things." 
 
 Dolly went to her room, and pulled out one of her 
 own school trunks for him ; then she helped him 
 to pack up his goods, too much taken by surprise to 
 cry, or even clearly to understand what was happening. 
 
 "I shall go to Manchester, and get a situation," 
 said Jem. " If I don't get a good one, I '11 write to 
 Granny ; she may be able to help me, or at least advise 
 me. But I won't do that if I can help it, for I must 
 not tell her the whole truth." 
 
 Everything was soon ready (Jem had not too much 
 to pack up, poor fellow !), so they called a servant, and 
 desired him to get the boxes downstairs, and to call a 
 cab. Then they went down together to the drawing- 
 room, expecting to find the two girls and Harcourt 
 there. But those young people, thinking it a pity 
 that the good dinner provided should be quite neglected, 
 had ordered it in, and were now eating it, leaving the 
 rest of the family to do as they liked. Into the 
 dining-room James and Dolly followed them. 
 
 "Why, Dolly," cried Harcourt, "have you seen, a 
 ghost? "What's up?" 
 
 " Jem's going away," said Dolly. 
 
 " Without your dinner, James," exclaimed the 
 whole party, " why are you in such a hurry ? " 
 
 " I couldn't eat, thank you," said Jem, quietly. 
 " Good-bye, Miranda ; good-bye, Linda." 
 
 He stood looking at the two gaily-dressed girls with 
 a kind of pity and gentleness in his face which they 
 could not understand.
 
 66 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Oh, good-bye," said Belinda, " I suppose it is 
 beneath the notice of so important a person as YOU 
 are to tell us why and where you are going ; but you 
 need not look so solemn about it, for we don't greatly 
 care ; there 's no love lost between us, as you know." 
 
 "There's no unkindness between us, Linda at 
 least I hope not. There 's none on my side and 
 when if you ever want anything that I can do for 
 you, mind I'm your brother, girls, if it was ten years 
 hence or twenty. Good-bye, Harcourt." 
 
 And he went out into the hall again, followed by 
 poor puzzled Dolly. 
 
 "Why, what's the matter with him?" whispered 
 Miranda. " I declare he has made me feel quite 
 uncomfortable and nervous." 
 
 " Oh, never mind him ; he 's a fool," said Belinda, 
 shortly. 
 
 In the hall James lingered for a moment. The 
 cab was at the door and his boxes were on the top. 
 He looked round at Dolly and whispered 
 
 " Dolly, say good-bye to Fitz for me. I hear my 
 mother's voice in here. I wonder might I go in and 
 say good-bye to her ?" 
 
 As he spoke the door of Mr. Dobbs' dressing- 
 room flew open, and his mother called out, " Come 
 here, sir." 
 
 So he went in, and Dolly with him. 
 
 When Mrs. Dobbs had obeyed her husband's sum- 
 mons, she found him pale and trembling, with a look 
 of such abject humiliation upon his face that it was 
 terrible to look at him. 
 
 "Mary," he said, "James has found out that 
 all is not right."
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 67 
 
 Dobbs sat down dismayed. 
 
 " I never thought of that," she cried. " When 
 Fitz never did so clever as he is, and James so dull." 
 
 "He's not so dull, you see. He puts his mind to 
 'his work." 
 
 "How did it happen?" 
 
 " I was in the inner room ; he went to my desk for 
 a letter he was to copy, and got hold of a wrong paper, 
 a paper I ought to have burned." 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 " You wouldn't understand if I talked for a 
 month," he said impatiently. " You're a fool, Mary, 
 and I 'm no better, to tell you all this. I shall get no 
 real help nor good advice from you." 
 
 "Well, I'm sure, Tom! as if the whole thing 
 would not have been over, and all of us ruined only 
 for me, long ago. Where is that stupid boy? He 
 must be made to hold his tongue. Couldn't you per- 
 suade him that he made a mistake ? he was always 
 dull." 
 
 " I tried it, but he was too clear for that. He '11 
 hold his tongue, Mary. You need not fear him. He 
 said himself it was not his place to expose me. He 
 tried hard to persuade me to sell up everything and 
 start again ; but it is too late now too late. He is 
 going away at once." 
 
 " I 'm glad of it. I never wish to see his stupid 
 face again ; and now that he knows we are in diffi- 
 culties, he would be twice as grave and tiresome." 
 
 "In difficulties!" said Mr. Dobbs. He had told 
 James that his mother knew all, and now felt half 
 inclined to tell her the last, worst part of the story, 
 but she would not let him finish his sentence. 
 E 2
 
 G8 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Tom, don't make more of it than you need," 
 she said. "Whatever comes or goes, we must hold 
 on until Fitz is married. That won't be very long 
 now." 
 
 " If I can but yes, it would be a shelter for you 
 and the girls I suppose. Well, James is going, so 
 you won't be annoyed by his grave looks ; there he is 
 in the hall now." 
 
 Then Mrs. Dobbs threw open the door, and called 
 her son in. 
 
 " Mother, I wanted to say good-bye to you," said 
 the lad, gently. " I am going away. My father is 
 angry with me, and it is time I did something for 
 myself, and " 
 
 " I know all about it," said Mrs. Dobbs. 
 
 " Mother ! and go on like this," pointing to her 
 rich dress and gold ornaments. 
 
 " Hush," she whispered angrily. " Dolly must not 
 hear. You 've told her nothing ? " 
 
 "Nothing," he answered sadly. 
 
 " That's lucky. Now go; and remember, if you 
 say one word to any one, you may just bring about what 
 you only fancy now ; for it is just nothing but your 
 own stupid fancy. Everything will go right if you 
 will only hold your tongue." 
 
 " I will do that, Mother. I don't believe you know 
 the worst. Good-bye. When you want me, send 
 for me. Dolly will know where I am." 
 
 Then he kissed his mother and hugged Dolly 
 lovingly, and went out of the room (poor Dolly 
 running after him to see the last of him) without a 
 word or look to his father. Jem would have given 
 much, in after days, that he had taken his father's
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 69 
 
 half offered hand and said farewell ; but bis beart was 
 very sore, and in bis youtb and uprightness be felt as 
 if it was impossible. 
 
 He had a few sovereigns, be might have had more 
 from his father, but he would not take it ; and the 
 next day he found himself, with a light purse and a 
 heavy heart, in Manchester, half stunned by the noise 
 and constant movement, and very anxious to get 
 employment. Being inexperienced, he had not thought 
 of getting his father to recommend or introduce him, 
 nor indeed, even bad be thought of it, could he have 
 brought himself to do so. He had no friends to whom 
 be could apply ; he had nothing in the world but a 
 stout beart and a brave determination to take any 
 work that offered, and work his way, leaving it to 
 God to send or to withhold prosperity. He bought a 
 daily paper, read all the advertisements, and having 
 made a list of those situations which he thought he 
 could fill, he set off with a modest hope that some one 
 would try him. But, alas ! he was met everywhere by 
 the same demands, for a character, security, or a 
 premium. A week went by, another, and his little 
 store was nearly gone, and no situation as yet. 
 There was not a clerkship vacant in Manchester for 
 which poor Jem had not applied, always with the 
 same results. He was beginning to think seriously 
 of working his passage out to Australia, and going to 
 his kind old friend for advice and a start in life, when 
 a letter from Dolly, with whom he kept up a very brisk 
 correspondence, told him that he no longer possessed 
 bis good friend. 
 
 "Dear Jem, how can I write it to you," wrote 
 Dolly, " when I know you will feel it even more than
 
 70 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 I do, and that you are sad and lonely besides ? 
 Jem, dear Granny dear kind Granny! she has 
 finished all her work and gone to her happy home, 
 about which she used to talk with such a bright face. 
 She was ill but a very little time, but she did not 
 forget us. She sent her love and blessing to both 
 you and me. Papa got a letter from Mr. Martin, and 
 there was this message for us. Oh, dear old Jem ! I 
 am tired with crying ; and if I only had you here to 
 cry with ! " 
 
 This was a terrible blow to James. So few people 
 had ever been kind to him, that his heart clung to 
 those few; and, besides, Mrs. Martin had been the 
 only friend to whom he could apply for help in his 
 present strait. And now she was dead, and he would 
 never get one of her kind, quaint, wise letters again, 
 to cheer and strengthen him. I hope it is no discredit 
 to his manliness to confess that he cried as heartily 
 as even Dolly herself. This news reached him in the 
 evening, and he gave up that night to sorrow; but 
 next morning he counted over his remaining money, 
 and held counsel with himself. 
 
 " Mighty little left, to be all that stands between me 
 and enlisting ; for I will do that before I '11 go home 
 and live on fraud and dishonesty. Only that won't 
 make a home for Dolly, ay, and for more than Dolly ! 
 I must not do that, unless I am really certain I can 
 do no better. Well, then, what am I to do now ? 
 Go to some other town and try my luck ? No use 
 one place is as good as another. They won't take 
 me without a recommendation, and money paid by my 
 father; and that I won't have. I must look lower, 
 that 's all about it. If I can't get a clerkship to begin
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 71 
 
 with, I '11 try for something else errand-boy, porter, 
 anything. I '11 go out now and see what I can do." 
 
 Out he went, and into the business streets, where he 
 no longer felt as if he must be run over by the omni- 
 buses and drays, or deafened by the noise. Presently 
 he saw a card in a shop window, " Light porter wanted, 
 apply within," and so far as plunging headlong into 
 the shop without giving it a second look, may be 
 termed applying within, Jem certainly took the card 
 at its word. It was a large, handsome shop, one 
 which did not think little of itself by any means. 
 The first thing Jem did was to beg pardon humbly of 
 a lady against whom he ran in his haste ; his first 
 feeling was that of dismay to find that he had knocked 
 the lady's head off ! A spruce young man stepped 
 forward, and dexterously caught the falling head, or 
 bonnet, rather ; for the lady, though most fashionably 
 attired, was only a wirework affair made to display a 
 suit of fine clothes ! What a pity it is when ladies 
 with heads put themselves to no better use. Then, 
 with a bow and a smirk, the spruce youth said to the 
 confused and staring Jem 
 
 " It don't matter in the least, sir. What can I 
 have the pleasure of doing for you to-day '?" 
 
 " It is not a lady, then !" exclaimed James. 
 
 " No, sir, a dummy, we call them. What did you 
 say you required, sir ?" repeated the shopman, feeling 
 sure that this well-dressed young gentleman had not 
 rushed headlong into the shop merely to upset an 
 unoffending dummy. 
 
 " I don't want to buy anything, thank you," 
 replied James ; "but there's a card in the window 
 about a light porter, and if I could see Mr. "
 
 72 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 Here he remembered that he had forgotten to look 
 at the name over the door ; but the shopman helped 
 him. 
 
 " Mr. Sweetman, sir. He is the real manager 
 now; old Mr. Cross seldom interferes. Mr. Sweet- 
 man is in the house ; I will send for him." 
 
 For, thanks to Mrs. Dobbs' care in providing her 
 dull boy with clothes chosen by herself rather than 
 according to his own lights, this young gentleman had 
 no idea that James could be applying for the place 
 for himself, but thought that perhaps he had a pro- 
 tege for whom he wished to say a word. So Mr. 
 Sweetman was summoned, and presently appeared ; 
 a blandly smiling personage, with quick, suspicious 
 eyes, and (as Jem soon discovered) a way of ceasing 
 to smile blandly and doing something quite different 
 with wonderful swiftness. 
 
 " You wished to see me, sir," said he, politely. 
 
 " Can I speak to you alone, sir ? " said James. 
 
 " Certainly step this way." But something in 
 poor Jem's anxious manner had driven the smile 
 away, and left a hard keen face with very little that 
 was pleasant about it. 
 
 " Sir, you want a porter," said James when they 
 had reached a small, well-furnished room, where his 
 conductor stopped and turned to him, " and I want 
 work. I am very strong and not lazy, and if you '11 
 try me I will do my best to please you." 
 
 Mr. Sweetmau's first impulse was to get rid of this 
 strange applicant with but scant ceremony, but on 
 looking at him again, and noting his good clothes, 
 his watch-chain, his well-made boots, and hands al] 
 unused to hard work, he hesitated. He was a long-
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 73 
 
 sighted man ; ho used to boast that he had seldom 
 made a mistake, and never missed an opportunity in 
 his life. And if he merely turned this lad out of the 
 house now, and so lost sight of him, he might lose 
 an opportunity ; for no one could doubt, he thought, 
 that this was a case of running away, and very likely 
 the parents and guardians were in search of the youth, 
 and would be laid under an obligation to any one who 
 stopped him or gave information of his whereabouts. 
 So he proceeded to deal warily with the case. Seating 
 himself in his well-cushioned easy chair, he eyed Jem 
 steadily for five minutes ov so in silence. Jem, 
 dreadfully confused by this proceeding, pulled out his 
 handkerchief and blew his nose, for want of something 
 else to do, " to give himself a countenance," as the 
 French have it ; and a very red countenance it gave 
 him, poor fellow. But the handkerchief decided Mr. 
 Sweetman : it was a fine white one, with J. D. worked 
 in the corner in beautiful flourishing satin-stitch by 
 little Dolly's clever hands. 
 
 " Young gentleman," said Mr. Sweetman at last, 
 with a kind of paternal severity, " you have run away 
 from school or from home. Don't deny it ; I feel 
 sure of it." 
 
 Jem, not being at all gifted with the power of 
 observation, could by no means understand Mr. 
 Sweetman's reasons for coming to this conclusion. 
 He managed to say, however 
 
 " I have left home, sir ; but not in secret." 
 
 "A family quarrel?" said Mr. Sweetman, inquir- 
 ingly. 
 
 James was silent. 
 
 " Come now, young gentleman, be reasonable.
 
 74 JIRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 You ask me for employment, but if I am to give it to 
 you, I must know something about you. Tell me 
 who you are, and why you are here, and I '11 see what 
 can be done for you. I have been young myself," he 
 added feelingly, " and I know that young people are 
 not always to blame where there are differences of 
 opinion." 
 
 This sounded promising, and as the speaker pushed 
 a chair towards Jem, he sat down and thought for 
 a moment. 
 
 " I would gladly satisfy you, sir," he said, " for it 
 is of great consequence to me to get employment, and 
 I have been trying so hard ; but every one wants 
 what I cannot give. But you seem so kind that 
 perhaps you will be satisfied with what I can give. 
 My name is Dobbs, and I am the son of Mr. Thomas 
 Dobbs of Middlemore, and " 
 
 " Mr. Dobbs of Middlemore ! why, I know him 
 slightly. I have had dealings with him. A very 
 prosperous man, sir. A man who will be an honour 
 to his native country. He'll die worth a hundred 
 thousand pounds, sir. Not a penny less. "What 
 possessed you to quarrel with such a father ? " 
 
 " I could not help it. I am a good accountant, and 
 write a fair hand, Mr. Sweetman." 
 
 " And yet apply for the place of porter ? " 
 
 " Only when I found there was no use in trying for 
 anything better, when I have no written character, no 
 references, and no money to pay a premium." 
 
 "Your father could remedy all that, I should 
 think." 
 
 " I could not ask him. I would rather begin low, 
 and if I give you satisfaction, perhaps you will
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 75 
 
 remember that I have some education and am fit for 
 better work." 
 
 "Well now, Mr. Dobbs, I declare I feel for you," 
 said Mr. Sweetman, with a sudden burst of frankness, 
 which would have put an older or a sharper man upon 
 his guard, but which deceived poor Jem. " I do, 'pon 
 my soul. I would engage you at once ; I want a 
 hand at the trimming counter; but I must decide 
 nothing without the consent of my senior partner Mr. 
 Cross ; and he is not in town at present, so you 
 must give me time. "Will you call again let me 
 see," (here he rapidly calculated the time required 
 to write to Mr. Dobbs, and get an answer, allowing 
 for the loss of a post) "yes, let us say the day 
 after to-morrow no, the next day, at about this 
 hour ? That will be Friday, won't it ? "Well, then, on 
 Friday morning I shall hope to see you again." 
 
 " sir, you are very kind ! " cried simple Jem, with 
 real heartfelt emotion in his voice. " I shall never 
 forget it. I will work hard to please you, sir, if you 
 take me. I am not quick, but I will take such 
 pains." 
 
 "I hope so I hope so. Good morning now, Mr. 
 Dobbs and good-bye until Friday. By the way, 
 should you change your mind in the mean time, 
 you '11 let me know, because until I have settled with 
 you I shall not look out for any one else." 
 
 "I shall not change my mind, there is no chance 
 of that. I am only too lucky to meet with so kind a 
 friend. Good morning, sir." 
 
 James went home to his tiny attic with his heart 
 full of gratitude and relief. It was some time before 
 he could compose himself to write to Dolly, first to
 
 7o MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 pour out his very sincere grief for " dear old Granny," 
 and then to tell her of his new hope. 
 
 Mr. Sweetmau watched his visitor's retreating form, 
 and grinned a little. 
 
 "Such a booby!" said he. "Fancy a fellow of 
 that age being so soft as to think that I 'm going to 
 take him into the house in this way, not even 
 inquiring why he left home ! But I daresay Mr. 
 Dobbs will be able to oblige me in more ways than one 
 if I oblige him in this, so I shall write to him at once." 
 
 Which he did, receiving the following reply by 
 return of post : 
 
 "Dear Sir, I am in receipt of yours of the 18th 
 inst., and have to thank you for it. My son James 
 has left home, as you conjecture, without my consent, 
 though not without my knowledge. He is a head- 
 strong fellow, but experience is the best cure for such 
 lads as he is, and I daresay he will soon be tired of 
 the employment you offer him, and ready to return 
 home. If, however, he remains with you for a year, 
 and then chooses to continue with you, I shall be happy 
 to come to an arrangement with you about him. If 
 he gets tired and returns home before that time, I will 
 gladly pay you for his board, etc., during the time he 
 remains with you. He is a good accountant, and a 
 steady, sober lad ; you run no risk in employing him. 
 I wish him to try his own way as he was not satisfied 
 with what I propose to him, but I do not wish to help 
 him openly at present; and you will add to the 
 obligation you have conferred on me if you will not let 
 him know that you have communicated with me. 
 " I remain, your obedient servant, . 
 
 "Tn. DOBBS."
 
 JEM'S FIRST SITUATION. 77 
 
 " Hum ! " said Mr. Sweetman, when lie had read 
 this letter, which came by the evening post on Thurs- 
 day. " This is not quite what I expected. An ob- 
 stinate, troublesome fellow, I suspect ; and he is to 
 be allowed to find out that he has made a fool of him- 
 self. Very good. I daresay he won't take long to 
 make that discovery. Forty pounds a year, when 
 you must be well dressed, is not luxury, even with 
 your dinner provided for six days in the week ; and 
 I 've always heard that old Dobbs lives like a prince. 
 However, he may try it. I can always get rid of 
 him if he is troublesome." 
 
 So when James, with a beating heart, presented 
 himself to hear his fate, he was informed that Mr. 
 Cross made no objection to the arrangement proposed, 
 and he was accordingly engaged, and entered upon 
 his duties that very day. His gratitude was really 
 touching, and Mr. Sweetman seemed to find it so, for 
 he hid his face in his scented handkerchief to conceal 
 emotion of sow* sort. 
 
 James, if not very bright, was methodical and atten- 
 tive ; and his fellow- shopmen, who were at first in- 
 clined to laugh at him for the earnest gravity of his 
 manner, soon found that he pleased the customers as 
 well as any of them, and some customers better than 
 they did ; for he was as anxious to please the little 
 slipshod girl who rapped her penny on the counter, 
 impatiently demanding " a penny reel o' cotting," as 
 the fine lady who bought expensive fringes or delicate 
 lace. 
 
 But in his delight at securing a situation, poor Jem 
 forgot one very important matter. He had but two 
 pounds left, and he had to provide everything he
 
 78 MRS. DCBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 needed, except his dinner on working days, for nearly 
 three months ; for it happened that he was engaged 
 soon after quarter day, and Mr. Sweetman never made 
 any payments except on the appointed days. .Some 
 of the men employed, and all the heads of depart- 
 ments, lived in the house ; but of course James, as 
 a new-comer, could not expect to be one of these 
 favoured few. He had many an hour's thought over 
 this difficulty, and at last decided that he would make 
 his money go as far as it possibly could ; to which 
 end he gave up tea, milk, butter, eggs, in fact, every- 
 thing except bread and water. The consequence of 
 this meagre fare was that he was so hungry by the 
 time dinner was ready, that his companions watched 
 his performances with awe and amusement. Even 
 bread, however, has to be paid for, and his tiny room 
 had to be paid for too ; though he had it on rea- 
 sonable terms, in consideration of its being an attic 
 with a skylight, which let in but little light, to make 
 up for which, it kept out but little rain ! All this 
 was far from pleasant, and many a lad would have 
 given in, gone home, or at least got money from home 
 to make his life easier. But dull Jem had not an inch 
 of " giving in" about him. What was right, accord- 
 ing to his light, that he would do, if he starved for it. 
 When his money was actually gone, he thought he 
 must sell his watch and his books ; but he would 
 part with none of these until fairly driven to it, but 
 just wait and see how things would go.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 < . TREASURE TROVE. 
 
 T was in Augus.t that James Dobbs entered 
 -wpori his new life ; and on one lovely Sun- 
 day, when he had been to church, and had 
 v eaten the piece of bread which represented 
 his dinner, a great longing for a breath of 
 freshysweet air came 'over him, and closing 
 the book he had been reading, he opened the leaky 
 skylight to look out. Nothing to be seen, however, 
 but grey l^ate roofs, red brick chimneys, and a 
 remarkably repulsive-looking red cat, which James 
 thought winked at him with offensive familiarity, 
 licking its lips and seeming to say, "I've had a 
 better dinner than you have, you duffer." Jem shut 
 the skylight, for the cat really hurt his feelings ; and 
 he went downstairs in search of his good-natured 
 landlady, to whom his first words were, "Let me do 
 that for you, ma'am," for she was struggling with a 
 heavy kettle, trying to put it on the fire ; and Jem 
 never saw any woman' in want of help without trying 
 what he could do to help her. He would have made 
 a splendid knight-errant, with his single-minded ways 
 and his kind heart. He splashed his boots, need I 
 say ; but if he did net mind that, why should we ?
 
 80 M?*S. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Dobbs. Ah ! it 's a fine thing to 
 be young and strong, sir. Time was when I made 
 nothing of a kettle like that 'ere ; but times is 
 changed, says the dogs'-meat man." 
 
 James looked round saw no man, and asked 
 
 " Who did you say, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Law sakes ! he 's an innocent creature," ejaculated 
 Mrs. Keid. "No one, sir; it was only a turn of 
 expression, like. Did you want anything, sir? " 
 
 For though James lived in her worst attic, and took 
 in nothing but bread of late, his invariable politeness 
 had so impressed Mrs. Keid that she was always most 
 civil to him. 
 
 " Yes, I wanted you to tell me what way to go, that 
 I may get a quiet country walk. I don't care to walk 
 about the streets, I get enough of that. Some place 
 where there are trees and grass." 
 
 " Well now, it is hodd what different fancies young 
 gents has. There 's the parlours ; he 's a bank clerk, 
 and he goes out every Sunday with a bought flower in 
 his button-hole, and walks the streets for the pleasure 
 of it. Grass and trees ! It 's a long way to the country 
 now, and the smoke kills the trees ; but if you don't 
 mind a place being a bit forsaken like, I know where 
 .you could go." 
 
 She then gave him sundry directions, and as it for- 
 tunately appeared that a line of railway ran parallel, 
 first with the streets and then for some distance with 
 the road which he was to follow, Jem felt hopeful 
 about finding his way. Off he set, passed by innu- 
 merable dingy little streets, guided by the line of 
 rail ; then along a dusty, hot, uninteresting road, and 
 finally reached the entrance to another road, which
 
 TREASURE TROVE. 81 
 
 seemed to be almost disused. The grass was en- 
 croaching on it from both sides, and in place of prim 
 walls and foot-paths, there were high tangled hedges 
 and wild rough grass; but the shade was delicious, 
 and the rough grass pleasant to the feet. Into 
 this road, or lane, as he felt inclined to call it, Jem 
 gladly turned, "Mrs. Reid was quite right," said 
 he ; " this is splendid." 
 
 He walked on, silently enjoying. Presently a bird 
 sang out clear and sweet in the hedge, and from long 
 habit Jem said "Dolly!" as if she were frisking 
 along beside him as in the good old days at home. 
 They had not been very good days, as we know ; but 
 we always forget the unpleasant things when we look 
 back into the past, and Dolly was pleasant, and a 
 darling. Jem did not see at all clearly for some time 
 after that little fit of absence, which perhaps accounts 
 for his failing to keep to the faintly marked track 
 through the grass ; he stumbled along, however, until 
 presently his foot struck against something hard ; he 
 staggered, caught a branch of bramble to steady him- 
 self, which tore his hand, and finally he came down 
 on his face in the grass. 
 
 " There now," said he aloud, " that 's just my luck. 
 Such a shake ; and my hat gone. No, I see it. And 
 my hand bleeding. Now I must tie it up with my 
 handkerchief, and the next thing will be that I shall 
 want to blow my nose. What knocked me down ? 
 I 'm sure I was walking along quietly enough." 
 
 The fresh track he had made for himself through 
 the rank grass was visible enough ; and having 
 picked up his hat, he walked along it, giving the 
 grass several little kicks ; and very soon he came 
 
 F
 
 82 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 against the hard thing which had upset him. Being 
 in no hurry, he amused himself by dislodging it. Nc 
 easy task, for whatever it was, it was huried deep in 
 the tangled grass, and, moreover, firmly embedded 
 in the earth. Jem pulled, and shook, and pulled 
 again, for the feel of the still invisible object told 
 him that it was not, as he had naturally imagined 
 it to be, a stone. It was neither so cold nor so 
 hard as a stone, and his curiosity was excited. At 
 last he had it ; it came out of its bed with such sud- 
 denness that he very nearly got a second fall. What 
 was it, after all ? A little box, once covered with 
 leather, the remains of which hung or stuck to it in 
 pieces here and there. There was a small gold plate 
 on the top, with something carved on it, but it was 
 too dirty to be traced. It had a queer pair of 
 hinges, large enough, thought Jem, for a much 
 bigger box, and it had also a lock of preposterous 
 size all, he fancied, of gold. And, finally, it had 
 been tied round with a piece of cord, the remains of 
 which came away in his hand as he touched it. This 
 was all very mysterious and deeply interesting, and 
 Jem actually forgot how hungry he was as he sat 
 down on a convenient stone to examine his prize. 
 But the interest was greatly increased when the box 
 opened of itself, as he was rubbing the gold plate on 
 the top, and betrayed the fact that the big lock had 
 been forced, and the hinges broken. Inside was a dirty, 
 damp, sodden piece of jeweller's cotton, which James 
 pulled out at once ; and beneath it lay an oval locket 
 set in plain gold, one side containing hair, and the 
 other a miniature painted on ivory, quite distinct even 
 now, though spotted and discoloured by clamp. Below
 
 TREASURE TROVE. 83 
 
 the picture was another piece of jeweller's cotton, and 
 Jem, deeply interested, pulled this out also ; and with 
 it came a large hrooch, made in the form of a cres- 
 cent, and set with diamonds which seemed to leap 
 out into the light of day with delight, so brilliantly 
 did they flash as he held them up. James knew that 
 if these were real diamonds (and surely anything else 
 would have heen spoiled long ago, lying in that damp 
 hole) they must be of great value. How had the box 
 containing these precious things been lost ? and to 
 whom did they belong ? and what was he to do with 
 them ? ^Yell, the first thing to do was to hide them 
 now, lest other eyes might get a sight of them. The 
 contents of the box were replaced without any further 
 examination, though he fancied there was something 
 more in the bottom of it that he had not yet seen. 
 The box was carefully tied up with a bit of cord which 
 he happened to have in his pocket, and he walked 
 back to examine the place where he had found it more 
 carefully. The road had never been a very wide one, 
 and had but one foot-path ; and it was at the side 
 where there had never been a foot-path that he had 
 been walking. There was a faintly-trodden track, but 
 he had been nearer the hedge than.it was, and the 
 place was very damp. He found the hole made by the 
 box again, and saw how deeply and firmly it had been 
 embedded in the ground ; so firmly, that force must 
 have been used to drive it down ; and looking again 
 at the box, he found that there was a dinge in the 
 oval plate on the top which might have been made by 
 a wheel passing over it. Then he went on his way, 
 rubbing the gold plate, until at last he could see that 
 the engraving upon it was a crest, and a peculiar- 
 
 F'2
 
 84 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 looking one a swan with wings spread, and carrying 
 a sword in its bill. 
 
 "I may as well go home," thought Jem, "for 
 surely I shall meet with no further adventures to- 
 day." Still, as he had not come out for adventures, 
 but for fresh air, he went on a little further. Pre- 
 sently he passed the entrance to a new piece of road, 
 well kept and neat, evidently leading to the town by 
 a shorter way than that by which he had come ; and 
 now his own road, though still lonely, was free from 
 grass and seemed less deserted, a high wall bounded 
 it on one side, with trees looking over it, and a little 
 further on he reached a gate a handsome, old- 
 fashioned gate of open iron-work, with a lodge inside, 
 and a long, straight avenue of big beech-trees, stretch- 
 ing away as far as he could see. The lodge was very 
 pretty, with high pitched roof, lattice windows with 
 the panes almost all broken, a trellis porch nearly 
 pulled down by the weight of the clematis which had 
 run wild over it, and a small garden in such a state 
 that you could not even guess at the original plan, 
 though here and there a rose tree, or some other 
 garden flower, raised its head above the wilderness of 
 weeds. 
 
 "And it might be such a nice, cozy little place," 
 thought Jem, indignantly. "Ah, if I had it, and 
 Dolly could come to live there !" 
 
 It was getting late, and church began at seven. So 
 Jem let go the bar of the gate by which he had been 
 holding, and withdrew his head from the open space 
 in the flourishes through which he had thrust it, and 
 prepared to return. Some Sunday, he thought, he 
 would set out earlier, and try to climb over somehow,
 
 TREASURE TROVE. 85 
 
 to walk up into the green gloom under the beech trees. 
 As thus he thought, he raised his eyes to measure 
 the height of the gate, and there, on the stone piers, 
 carved in stone themselves, were two swans with 
 outstretched wings and swords in their great bills. 
 This was a discovery ; but Jem had no time to 
 prosecute it further, so he only stared at the stone 
 swans, and turned to walk briskly back into the 
 town. 
 
 He went to church as usual, but I confess that he 
 did not find it easy to attend. The thought struck 
 him, " How surprised this grave-looking man would be 
 if I pulled out those diamonds, as he sits there beside 
 me ; wouldn't he stare ! " And so distracted was his 
 mind that he lost a good deal of the service. It was 
 perhaps as well that he did not, as many a youth with 
 more quicksilver in him might have done, proceed to 
 try the experiment ; for there can be little doubt that 
 the grave man would have pointed him out to the 
 policeman at the door, as a " suspicious character," as 
 the saying goes, though surely a suspected one would 
 be more to the purpose ; and poor good Jem might 
 have got into trouble. After church he went home, 
 ate his very frugal supper, and went to bed, placing 
 the mysterious box under his pillow for safety. 
 
 He woke very early in the morning. If you want 
 to be up early, there is nothing like a light supper for 
 attaining your object ; but it was too early to get up, 
 so he lay and meditated 
 
 First, naturally, on his own affairs. Not very 
 cheering to contemplate just then, for his money 
 was all but gone. He must either sell or pawn 
 something ; his watch and chain was the best thing, he
 
 86 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 thought, both as the most valuable and the easiest 
 spared. Should he speak to Mr. Sweetman, and ask 
 for au advance ? Somehow, bland as that gentleman 
 was, he did not like this idea at all. The watch was 
 Dolly's gift, the chain his mother's ; but they must go, 
 and that very soon, for he had only a few shillings left. 
 Having come to this conclusion, Jem sat up in bed, 
 and pulled out the box he had found the day before, 
 to have a searching examination of its contents. The 
 miniature came first. It was beautifully painted, of 
 which Jem was no judge ; but the face struck him 
 very much. It was that of an elderly man, not 
 remarkably well-looking, and yet there was something 
 about it which made him feel that the person 
 represented had been a man of some consequence. 
 There was a bit of blue ribbon just appearing (for the 
 picture gave little more than the head and face), which 
 would have told most people that this conjecture was 
 correct, for it was the blue ribbon of the Order of the 
 Garter. But honest Jem knew nothing about that, 
 so he merely wondered that this grave, commanding- 
 looking old gentleman should have decked himself 
 with blue ribbon, just as Dolly did on Thursday 
 nights. The gold setting was massive and heavy, 
 probably worth many pounds. Then came the 
 diamond brooch. It was, as I have said before, in the 
 form of a crescent, and the nine stones which filled the 
 broad part of this crescent were of great size, while 
 the beauty of the form and workmanship, the way the 
 horns of the crescent tapered away, each stone just 
 filling its place until the last was a mere spark of light, 
 pleased Jem's eyes greatly. He had often heard his 
 mother and the girls talk of a set of diamonds they
 
 TREASURE TROVE. 87 
 
 had seen at one of the Middlemore balls, so lie 
 knew that they were valuable, of course ; but of the 
 immense value of those- which he had in his hand 
 he had no idea, for these stones had that peculiar 
 violet tinge which is so rare and so highly prized. 
 How they flashed too, and what a brilliant coloured 
 representation of themselves they cast upon the 
 whitewashed wall as he turned them about. "Well, 
 was there anything else in this box of wonders ? 
 Yes, one other article, but it was only a thick gold 
 chain, probably belonging to the locket, which had 
 a ring at the top for it to pass through. That 
 was all ; so he packed all back into the box again, 
 tied it up securely, and lay down to think. 
 
 This box and its contents must, it was plain, belong 
 to the family who owned the place with the beech 
 avenue and the deserted lodge : the crest told him 
 that much. Then the first thing to do was to discover 
 the name of that family. There was no hurry. The 
 loss was not an affair of yesterday, and so Jem, who 
 was of a deliberate turn of mind, was not going to 
 hurry himself unreasonably ; and he did not care to 
 take any one into his confidence rashly, as he felt 
 responsible for the safety of the valuables he had 
 found. It was now time to get up, so up he got ; and 
 when he had arranged his room and eaten that piece 
 of bread which looked so stale and tasted so good (for 
 he had plenty of a very fine kind of sauce), Jem put 
 the box in his pocket and set off for Broad Street and 
 !Mr. Sweetnaan's shop. First, however, he paid his 
 landlady a visit, and told her how he had enjoyed 
 his walk. 
 
 "I came to a place with a great gate and a long
 
 88 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 avenue of large trees, Mrs. Eeid. Whose place 
 is that ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, I really disremember. You know I don't 
 belong to these parts at all, only coming here after I 
 was married. And the way I know the road at all was 
 just this. Poor Reid, that's dead and gone to a 
 better place I truly hope was that romantic, sir, if 
 you '11 believe it, even after we were married, that no 
 place pleased him so well for a walk as that road, 
 because of the trees and the quiet. Even then it was 
 partly deserted, though I think I 've been told that 
 the lodge there used to be the principal one to some 
 grand place only they built a new one on another 
 road. I 've surely heard the name, but, as I say, I 
 disremember it. Lord something he 's an earl or 
 a barrow-knight, or something of that kind. And 
 what shall I take in for you to day, Mr. Dobbs ? " 
 
 "A loaf, if you please ; a big one, Mrs. Eeid." 
 
 " sir, do give yourself something more relishing 
 than bread, and only water to wash it down. Let me 
 get you some tea or coffee, or even cocoa, though it 's 
 what I never could touch myself." 
 
 "When I'm rich, Mrs. Reid. I can't afford it 
 now/' 
 
 " More 's the pity, then, sir. An empty pocket is 
 a bad thing ; but you '11 do well yet." 
 
 "An empty pocket," muttered Jem, as he walked 
 off. " Little you know, ma'am, how far from empty 
 my pocket is. I suppose I have two or three hundred 
 pounds in my pocket. The only misfortune is, that 
 none of it belongs to me." 
 
 Had he said thousands he would still have been 
 much below the mark. I am afraid his family would
 
 TREASURE TROVE. 89 
 
 have been more than ever convinced that James was 
 indeed dull, had they known that he was carrying 
 about such a pocketful, and yet that no idea of 
 making anything by it, even by restoring it to its 
 owner, had never entered his head ; no, not though 
 he wanted money so badly. 
 
 During the day James took an opportunity to ask 
 one of his companions if he knew to whom the place 
 he had seen the evening before belonged ; and with 
 some trouble and cross-questioning he made out that 
 the place was Warrendale Park, and that it belonged 
 to Lord Warrendale, but that the family did not now 
 live there. The house was shut up and empty, his 
 informant said, and the place was a jolly one for pic- 
 nics. 
 
 James did not in the least know what to do next. 
 He must find out how to restore the box to its lawful 
 owner, and the said owner must be either Lord 
 Warrendale or some member of his family ; but how 
 'to get at Lord Warrendale, or how to find out any- 
 thing about him, was a difficult problem to poor 
 James, who had no experience to guide him, and 
 who had to be at his post at half-past eight in the 
 morning, and to remain there until ten o'clock at night 
 sometimes. But if he did not know what to do, he 
 at least knew what he ought not to do ; and so 
 he refrained from consulting Mr. Sweetman, though 
 much tempted to get rid of the responsibility thus. 
 It was not that he consciously doubted his employer's 
 honesty, but several little occurrences made him reject 
 the idea of consulting him. 
 
 " If I wasn't such a stupid, I should know what 
 to do," he thought. " Dolly, now, she 'd know in a
 
 00 MKS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 moment ; but I shan't tell Dolly until I have got rid 
 of the box, for she would talk about it, naturally ; 
 and then no one knows what might happen." And he 
 saw, in a kind of vision, his father entreating him 
 to let him have the diamonds. " I wish I had a 
 little more sense," added Jem, disconsolately. 
 
 Then the memory of a verse of the Bible, which 
 he had once tried to learn off by heart, came back to 
 him 
 
 " If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who 
 giveth unto all men liberally, and upbraideth not." 
 
 " So I will," said James, aloud. And when saying 
 his prayers that night, he asked, simply and directly, 
 to be showed a way out of his difficulty. Then he 
 went to bed ; and in the morning, before he was well 
 awake, he bethought himself of the clergyman whose 
 church he attended, an elderly, kind-looking man, 
 and to him he determined to go, and tell him all 
 about the box and his perplexity. However, this 
 could not be done until Sunday, for he could not get 
 away from business during the week. On Sunday, 
 therefore, James went to church rather early, and 
 having determined not to be stopped by his foolish 
 shyness, he walked up to the verger and told him 
 that he wanted to speak to the clergyman, either 
 before or after service. Not knowing the clergy- 
 man's name, he could say no more than this, and 
 the verger merely said, " Come this way, sir ; Mr. 
 Handcock is here," and led the way to the vestry- 
 room door. 
 
 " This young man wants to soe you, sir," said 
 he, looking into the room ; and then he walked off, 
 and left Jem face to face, not with the elderly
 
 TREASURE TROVE. 91 
 
 gentleman, for whose advice he wished, but with a 
 pink-and- white faced young person, who did not look 
 as old as James himself ; though, as he was a clergy- 
 man in full orders, he must have been several years 
 older. He was rather below middle height, a slight, 
 boyish-looking creature with fair, curly hair and a 
 pair of bright, dark eyes, hidden away under 
 spectacles, for he was even more short-sighted than 
 Jem himself. Either the spectacles, or something 
 in himself, gave him an alert and perky air, which 
 put Jem completely out of countenance, and he stam- 
 mered out 
 
 " You are not it was not you, sir, that I wanted 
 to see." 
 
 " Mr. Moberly, I suppose," answered the young 
 clergyman, in a pleasant, brisk voice. " All right 
 or all wrong, rather for he 's gone for a six weeks' 
 holiday." 
 
 " Six weeks ! "Well, I can't wait all that time," 
 cried Jem, in despair. " What on earth am I to 
 do?" 
 
 " How can I tell when I don't know what you are 
 talking of?" replied the curate. " Can no one but 
 Mr. Moberly answer you ?" 
 
 "I don't know Mr. Moberly, sir. I didn't even 
 know his name. I'm a stranger here, and don't 
 know any one ; and I 'in in a great puzzle." 
 
 " Perhaps I could help you. I know lots of people 
 in Manchester belong to the town, in fact. If it is 
 advice in a religious way that you want from Mr. 
 Moberly, you had better wait for him, perhaps ; but 
 if it is anything else, you may as well tell me what 
 it is."
 
 92 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 "It is about something I have found, sir. Some- 
 thing of value, I think, and I don't know exactly what 
 to do about it." 
 
 "Why did you come to-day Sunday, you know 
 about such business as that ? " inquired Mr. Handcock, 
 alertly; and then he laughed, to see how " flustered " 
 poor Jem was by the question. 
 
 " I am I can't get away. I 'm busy all day from 
 half-past eight until after dark. This is the only day 
 I could come. You don't think it wrong, sir ? " said 
 James, looking up for the first time after his first 
 scared and hasty glance. And Mr. Handcock, who 
 was a thoroughly good, kind-hearted young man, took 
 a fancy to the honest, gentle face forthwith. 
 
 "No," he said, " I don't indeed. I am sure you 
 are not one to think lightly about such things now, 
 are you ? But there 's the bell beginning to ring fast 
 don't you hear it ? I must send you away now, 
 but come back here after service, and we '11 see if I can 
 put you in the right way." 
 
 James walked away with a half determination not 
 to come back, for Mr. Handcock's brisk and cheery 
 manner disconcerted him terribly, it was so new to 
 him. He would have lost a good deal if he had 
 not changed his mind, which he did during the 
 sermon ; for behold, this bright, boyish-looking 
 curate preached such a vigorous, terse, telling, little 
 sermon that James got quite a different notion of 
 him, and went to stand at the vestry door as soon as 
 the church was nearly empty. Presently out popped 
 Mr. Handcock. 
 
 " Oh, here you are," said he. " That 's right. 
 Come along to my lodgings, I live pretty close to the
 
 TREASURE TROVE. 93 
 
 church, and you can tell me about this affair as we 
 walk ; and then we '11 have some grub," added this 
 unclerical young person ; at least James fancied that 
 it would have been more clerical to say " lunch." 
 
 "You've found something of value?" said Mr. 
 Hancock, putting on his hat as they gained the street. 
 
 "Yes, I found a box with same things in it. 
 And the box has a crest on the lid, and I have found 
 out that the crest belongs to the Earl of Warrendale ; 
 and so I suppose the box is his ; and I don't know 
 how to send it to him." 
 
 "This gets exciting," remarked Mr. Handcock. 
 " Here 's my place ; I lodge over a baker's shop, you 
 see, because it 's handy to have one's bread on the 
 premises. Don't break your neck, if you please ; 
 there are two steps up, and one down, just outside my 
 door. My patent trap, I call it, because my visitors 
 frequently arrive in the room head foremost, and 
 either abusive or lamentable according to disposition. 
 Hullo ! Oh, I say you know, I warned you! " as Jem, 
 need I say, tumbled down the step, came against the 
 door like a battering ram, and alighted on his nose 
 just inside the young clergyman's sitting-room. He 
 got up, very red. 
 
 " I 'm awkward," said he. 
 
 " So 's the step," said Mr. Handcock, soberly. " You 
 are not hurt, I hope ? No ; that 's all right then, 
 never mind the door, it 's used to it. What sized box 
 is it that you found ? You could not come to a better 
 person than I am, because my mother is Lord 
 Warrendale's aunt, and so you see, I am better ill this 
 ono instance than Mr. Moberly." 
 
 " Are you really, sir ? " exclaimed Jem.
 
 94 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 "Better than Mr. Moberly? Well, as a general 
 rule, decidedly no." 
 
 " Not that, sir but his aunt are you " 
 
 "Mr. Moberly's aunt?" inquired the curate, 
 mischievously. "Never mind," he added kindly, "I 
 know what you mean. It is an awful thing to be so 
 shy very disagreeable don't you find it ? I 'm not 
 shy, and it 's a blessing. By the way, tell me your 
 name." 
 
 "James Dobbs. And there's the box," cried 
 Jem, now quite desperate. He was not a bit angry, 
 though Mr. Handcock had laughed at him ; but he felt 
 that he would never get his story told at this rate. 
 He opened the box, pulled out the contents, and 
 spread them on the green cloth of the little table near 
 which he stood. Mr. Handcock stared. 
 
 " Oh, I say, you know," he remarked in a tone of 
 remonstrance ; and then was silent, and stared again. 
 "I hadn't an idea that you had found anything of 
 such value," he said presently. " And, do you know, 
 I rather think your discovery will clear up a mystery ; 
 for I have a shadowy remembrance of a tale of robbery, 
 and pursuit, and of something of immense value 
 missed from the recovered spoil. What is this? a 
 miniature ! Oh, my grandfather himself, beyond a 
 doubt. I remember him very well, though he was an 
 older man in my day, of course. Tell me where you 
 found them, Mr. Dobbs." 
 
 "In an old road which leads to a pretty lodge and 
 a gate with crests carved in stone over it, the same as 
 that on the box. Look !" 
 
 Being further questioned, he told the whole story, 
 getting quite animated and forgetting his shyness.
 
 TREASURE TROVE. 95 
 
 And Mr. Handcock liked him better and better. 
 There was such a simplicity and absence of self- 
 conceit about him, in spite of his shyness. His was 
 not the shyness of vanity. 
 
 " It is really a curious story, Mr. Dobbs ; and it is 
 curious too that you should have missed Mr. Moberly 
 and happened upon me, who am, as I may say, first 
 cousin to those diamonds. Let us have some luncheon 
 now, and then I must go to afternoon Sunday-school, 
 and I shan't have a moment to myself again to-day. 
 But to-morrow I will go with you to Mr. Barlow, 
 Lord "Warrendale's agent and solicitor. He is the 
 proper person to apply to, and he shall tell you the 
 story of the robbery if you care to hear it." 
 
 " But I cannot go, sir. I could not get leave, I am 
 in Sweetman & Cross's the great shop, you know, 
 and he does not often give leave, and I am only a 
 new-comer. I '11 leave them all with you, if you will 
 allow me." 
 
 " No no, you must come to Mr. Barlow. It may be 
 an advantage to you. Could you go in the evening ? " 
 
 " Not until half-past nine at the earliest." 
 
 " that will do, 1 11 tell him in the morning that 
 we shall be with him in the evening, I know him 
 very well." 
 
 Then he jumped up, desiring Jem to "clear away 
 his treasure trove," and going to a press at the other 
 end of the room, he produced a small tray, and soon 
 tilled it with the materials for a very comfortable 
 meal . 
 
 " I never disturb the good folks below on Sunday, 
 unless I am driven to it," he said. " Draw up your 
 chair, Mr. Dobbs. I hope you're hungry; I am.
 
 96 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 Preaching makes me awfully hungry," remarked this 
 very unconventional curate. Poor Jem was nothing 
 loath, as you may think, and found ham, cheese, fresh 
 bread and good hutter, and a glass of good ale, a 
 pleasant change from dry bread and cold water. 
 Moreover, he was beginning to understand Mr. 
 Handcock, and could laugh when asked if " they 
 didn't bake very decent bread in this establishment ? 
 and the ale was good, naturally, being Handcock & 
 Haughton's. For you know I 'm a brewer by nature, 
 though a clergyman by education," concluded the 
 curate. 
 
 By this time Jem had so forgotten his shyness 
 that he asked if he might go to see the Sunday-school, 
 and the end of the matter was that he shy Jem 
 Dobbs, found himself teaching a class of small girls, 
 and liking it. That was a most delightful Sunday, 
 and the evening was spent in writing an account of 
 his adventures to Dolly, Mrs. Reid having invited him 
 to write in her cozy kitchen by the gas-light. Jem 
 was not a skilful letter-writer, and his description of 
 Mr. Handcock drew from Dolly the opinion that " he 
 must be a little mad, and I don't think I should like 
 him," but that may have been a little bit of perversity 
 on Dolly's part.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A FRIEND ix NE::P. 
 
 was ven* nearly teii o'clock on Monday night 
 before James knocked at the door of Mr. 
 Handcock's lodgings, as had been arranged 
 the day before. The evening was damp 
 and chilly, more like October than August, 
 and when Mr. Handcock made his appear- 
 ance hs was wrapped up in a great coat, and wore a 
 thick white woollen comforter. Jem, who had neyer 
 known a day's ill health in his life, felt rather disposed 
 to laugh (quite privately, for he looked very grave, 
 not being sufficiently at his ease for a laugh) at such 
 precautions against a chilly evening. They left the 
 crowded streets after a time, and soon reached a detached 
 house with a lawn and shrubbery, where Mr. Barlow 
 lived. As they were expected, they were at once taken 
 upstairs to a handsome, comfortable drawing-room, 
 bright with the pleasant light of lamps, and sweet with 
 fresh flowers. James glanced round what was the 
 difference between this and his mother's far more costly 
 room ? This looked so homelike. In the room were 
 three people : an elderly gentleman, his elderly wife, 
 and a young lady, a tall slight girl, with dark eyes and a 
 most sweet smile. She was Mr. Barlow's only child. 
 
 G
 
 98 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 "We had nearly given you up, Frank," said 
 Mr. Barlow, coming forward ; then seeing James, he 
 put up his glasses to see if he knew him, and Jem all 
 but burst a blood-vessel, he blushed so terribly. 
 
 "We would not come earlier. I told you it 
 was partly on business that I was coming. Not of 
 my own, however. This is Mr. Dobbs, and he has 
 something to say to you that will astonish you not a 
 little, I fancy. Good evening, Mrs. Barlow," and the 
 young clergyman shook hands with the two ladies, 
 and introduced James. 
 
 " Robert," said Mrs. Barlow, " if you have business 
 on hands, Agatha and I can go away." 
 
 " don't, Mrs. Barlow," cried Mr. Handcock, " it 
 will interest you both, I know. It 's a curious story. 
 Now Mr. Dobbs, begin : let them hear your adven- 
 tures," he added mischievously, his eyes twinkling 
 behind his spectacles as he made this most unkind 
 request. James blushed, hesitated, and finally put his 
 hand into his pocket, intending to draw out the box and 
 simplify matters by letting it tell it's own story. But 
 Mr. Handcock stopped him with a look of horror. 
 
 " Don't do that ! do you think this a disclosure to 
 be made in that careless kind of way ? Not at all. 
 You must work them up to 9 proper state of curiosity 
 first, and prolong the sensation. Tell them first that 
 you have found something, Secondly, where you 
 found it. Thirdly, lioiv you found it. Fourthly " 
 
 " Sir, you must tell them all that yourself," said 
 James, plucking up a spirit as his tormentor kept 
 looking at him so saucily and yet so kindly. "You 
 know it all please tell them. You'll make more 
 of it than I should."
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED. 99 
 
 "What is this all about?" said Mr. Barlow, 
 laughing. "Ah, Frank! you're just the same 
 mad boy you always were. I'm beginning to suspect 
 that it is only some trick of yours." 
 
 "Base suspicion! I despise it. Mrs. Barlow, I 
 shall address myself to you and Agatha. You won't 
 suspect me of being anything but the gravest and 
 least trick-playing of men." 
 
 " Only that I never can remember that you are a 
 man, Frank," said Mrs. Barlow. " Come, tell us the 
 story, whatever it is. You have raised our curiosity 
 quite enough." 
 
 " Very well, I accede to the request of my friend, 
 Mr. James Dobbs, and will tell the tale of his 
 harrowing adventures. Last Sunday no, it was 
 the Sunday before Mr. Dobbs went out for a 
 walk. Being of a romantic turn, he sought solitude 
 and green grass. Do I do justice to your tale, Mr. 
 Dobbs ? " 
 
 James, who was listening with an admiring smile, 
 and who had not a particle of that miserable kind of 
 vanity which would have made many lads regard Mr. 
 Handcock with wrath and aversion, answered 
 
 " More than justice, sir." 
 
 " You don't mean by that phrase to accuse me of 
 exaggeration, I trust ? " 
 
 " no, certainly not," said Jem. 
 
 " But as it is going to be a long story, we had 
 better all sit down," said Mr. Barlow. "I know of 
 old, Frank, that when once you begin to talk " 
 
 " Now, don't hurt my feelings, or I shall never get 
 on. I 'in so sensitive. Well, now we are all com- 
 fortable, I shall go on Mr. Dobbs found the desired
 
 100 MLS. DOBBS' DL'LL BOY. 
 
 greenness by leaving the main road, and turning 
 down the old neglected bit of lane which leads to the 
 old lodge of Warrendale Park. Here it was that Mr. 
 Dobbs, walking absently along (he has not confided 
 it to me, but I am under the impression that he- 
 was composing a sonnet)" here James laughed out- 
 right " he stumbled, and fell, and being of a 
 practical turn " 
 
 "Why, you said he was composing a sonnet/' 
 interrupted Miss Barlow. 
 
 " And you think that no poet can be practical ? 
 Why, I 'm a poet myself ! Don't interrupt me again, 
 Agatha, unless you really have a suggestion to offer. 
 Being practical, Mr. Dobbs at once tried to discover 
 what the object was, by falling over which he had 
 nearly broken his neck and had seriously damaged the 
 flow of his ideas. And he found, deeply imbedded 
 in the earth, hidden by a rank growth of grass what 
 do you suppose ?" 
 
 "A stone," said Miss Barlow. 
 
 "I have not the least idea," remarked her father. 
 
 " A box. A small box covered with leather, 
 mounted in gold ; having on the lid an oval plate, and 
 on the plate a crest." 
 
 "What crest?" said Mr. Barlow. "This is very 
 curious." 
 
 "This is more curiouser. It is the Warrendale 
 crest." 
 
 " Indeed ! and was the box empty ?" 
 
 " No, Mr. Barlow. And what 's more, I fancy the 
 contents of that box have been more sought after than 
 anything else I know of, except the North Pole and 
 the philosophers' stone and perpetual motion, of
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED. 101 
 
 course. You may show them the box now, Mr. 
 Dobbs. I have them in the proper state, I think." 
 
 James untied his piece of cord, and put the box 
 into the old gentleman's hand ; and he opened it, the 
 two ladies coming to the table to look on. 
 
 "A picture. Why, bless my heart, Frank, it's 
 your grandfather ! This is the miniature no, it can't 
 be yes, it surely is though that was lost in the 
 great robbery before you were born." 
 
 " It is ; I knew him at once. Just so did he look, 
 just so did he sternly eye my poor mother when she 
 confessed to a low taste for porter. Don't look 
 shocked, Mr. Dobbs, I only mean that she insisted 
 on marrying a brewer." 
 
 " He never said a word against it, Frank. But can 
 this really be the lost miniature; how very extra- 
 ordinary ! " 
 
 " Don't excite yourself about this, Mr. Barlow, 
 or you '11 have a fit when you go deeper into the 
 box." 
 
 " Why, is there anything else ? " and a hasty pull 
 brought out the diamond brooch ; and as it flashed 
 out into the light, the two ladies uttered a little cry 
 of admiration. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Barlow, what is that ?" said the young 
 clergyman. Mr. Barlow looked at it in silence for 
 some time. 
 
 "If my eyes don't deceive me," said he, presently, 
 " this is the famous brooch that was lost in that 
 same robbery. All the diamonds were stolen, and 
 all recovered except this, which is worth all the rest 
 put together. These diamonds are of great celebrity, 
 and of immense value. They belonged to Louis the
 
 102 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 Fourteenth once. The old earl was furious about 
 them. How on earth did they come there ?" 
 
 "I conjecture that one of the thieves was a cun- 
 ning fellow, and meant to rob his comrades ; he must 
 have put these two valuables into the box for his own 
 share." 
 
 " And separated from the rest, for they were over- 
 taken in the other direction. You don't think it was 
 buried on purpose, Mr. Dobbs, do you ?" 
 
 " No, sir. I think it was dropped, and that some 
 heavy cart or carriage went over it. If you look at 
 the box, the gold plate has a mark that might be 
 made by a wheel. But it was quite out of the com- 
 mon track, close to the hedge." 
 
 " Maybe the horse the thief was riding or driving 
 kicked just there," said Miss Barlow. 
 
 " And he dropped his spoil ; it must have been so, 
 I suppose. The party was overtaken by the earl, and 
 his sons, and servants on the other road, and most of 
 them captured. They had a carriage, and in it was 
 most of what they had carried off. Only this miniature 
 and these diamonds were missing. The new lodge 
 and avenue were finished at about that time, and the 
 old one was not wanted. That pretty bit of road is 
 seldom used now. Well, Mr. Dobbs, Lord Warren - 
 dale will be extremely pleased to recover these 
 things ; he will feel himself under a great obligation 
 to you." 
 
 " I am very glad I was able to find out that they 
 belong to him, sir," said James, quietly. 
 
 " I shall take them to the bank for safe keeping 
 to-morrow ; and for to-night, I '11 lock them up in the 
 safe in my study."
 
 A FRIEXD IN NEED. 103 
 
 " I '11 help you, sir," cried Mr. Haudcock ; and 
 having put the things hack into the box, the two 
 gentlemen left the room together. 
 
 ' ' I wanted a word with you, Frank. There was 
 an immense reward offered for these diamonds ; and 
 I could not decide whether to speak of it or not. 
 Who is your friend ? " 
 
 " I know nothing hut what he has told me himself. 
 He has left his father's house to do for himself. I 
 think the father is rich, but this lad is in Sweetman's 
 shop, and he told me this evening that he finds it 
 hard to get on." 
 
 "Well, I must write to Lord Warrendale before I 
 can speak definitely ; but he will be liberal, he always 
 is. Will you bring Mr. Dobbs in here as you pass 
 out?" 
 
 " That is a plain hint, Mr. Barlow. I suppose we 
 had better tramp." 
 
 " You know I did not mean that ; but it is getting 
 very late. And now tell me how you are yourself, 
 my dear boy ? Not overworking yourself I hope ?" 
 
 " Of course not. That's not in my line." 
 
 " I know that. You are a lazy, take-it-easy kind of 
 fellow ; always were. But are you feeling well and 
 strong ?" 
 
 " As right as a trivet, sir. Well, I '11 go and 
 bring my treasure-finder down to you." 
 
 He ran up accordingly, and found that the two 
 ladies had contrived to make James describe the 
 finding of the box to them again, and that he was 
 looking quite happy. 
 
 "It's getting late, Dobbs. I think we must say 
 good-night."
 
 104 -MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 " Frank, stay until you have a glass of wine and 
 a biscuit." 
 
 "Well, make haste then. Oh! it's here, thank 
 you, Mrs. Barlow. I drink to the health of Mr. James 
 Dobbs, and may he go on as he has begun, finding 
 diamonds in every lane, and lost noblemen under 
 every stone." 
 
 James laughed, and said, " I hope not, for really k 
 has been a weight on my mind. I could not find out 
 how to get rid of them. Good-night, Mrs. Barlow 
 I am sure it is very late." 
 
 James had finished his glass of wine and a biscuit ; 
 he would gladly have had more biscuit, but the 
 idea of what his mother would say if he took more 
 prevented him. The two young men were soon 
 downstairs and in the study, where Mr. Barlow 
 awaited them. 
 
 "Mr. Dobbs," said he, "I want to say a word to 
 you before you go ; to tell you that you have an un- 
 doubted claim to the reward offered for the recovery 
 of these diamonds. I forget now how much it was, 
 but as soon as I can hear from Lord Warrendale I 
 shall be ready to pay over the money to you." 
 
 Mr. Handcock was watching his new friend 
 narrowly, and James rose greatly in his esteem, when, 
 without any show of annoyance, or pride, or anything 
 save simple straightforward honesty, he answered 
 
 "0 no, Mr. Barlow, I should be sorry that 
 anything was said about that. It was just an accident 
 my finding the box. You will oblige me by saying 
 nothing to Lord Warrendale about a reward ; I can't 
 take money for just picking up a box." 
 
 "But, Dobbs," said the curate, " remember what
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED. 105 
 
 you told me as we walked up here ; that you are only 
 just beginning the world, and that so far, it has been 
 a struggle." 
 
 " And you have no reason to be ashamed to take 
 the money, Mr. Dobbs," put in Mr. Barlow. It 
 is as justly yours as the jewels are Lord Warren- 
 dale's." 
 
 ''But I could never feel that it was," said James. 
 " Please don't say anything more about it. But I 
 will tell you how I am placed, if it is not taking too 
 ui\ at a liberty ; for you could help me very much 
 indeed. I have got a situation in Mr. Sweetman's 
 shop, and I hope to get on very well ; but I had very 
 little money when I left home, and it is nearly all 
 gone now. I only dine at the shop, you know, and 
 there is no dinner on Sundays. Besides, I shall not 
 bo paid until I have been there nearly three months, 
 so I really want money very badly. If you will lend 
 me five pounds, sir, and let me pay it back when I 
 can it would be a great help to me." 
 
 " I will do that with great pleasure. I don't think 
 I need be uneasy about my money with a lad who 
 really wants money very badly, and who never seems 
 to think it possible that he might turn a penny on 
 the finding of those diamonds," said Mr. Barlow, 
 very kindly. And taking out his pocket-book, he 
 handed over a five-pound note to James at once. 
 
 "Don't think of paying me until it is quite con- 
 venient," said he. " And if ever I can oblige you in 
 any way, Mr. Dobbs, I hope you will let me know." 
 
 " You have obliged me very much ; you don't know 
 how much, Mr. Barlow, for I was really in a great 
 difficulty. Good-night, sir, and thank you."
 
 106 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 When they were out of the house, Mr. Handcock 
 said 
 
 " I would gladly have lent you that money, Dobbs." 
 
 " I never thought of borrowing it until that moment; 
 besides, Mr. Barlow must be very rich." 
 
 " And I, being a curate, must needs be very poor ; 
 is that it, Mr. Dobbs ? Well, as a general rule, I 
 fear you are right ; but I 'm the exception which 
 proves the rule." 
 
 James wondered why, if that were the case, he 
 lived in small rooms over a baker's shop ; but he made 
 no remark. Soon afterwards they reached the point 
 at which their roads separated, and here they stopped 
 to say good-night. 
 
 " But our acquaintance must not end here, Dobbs ; 
 you must come and see me. Come next Sunday 
 after church, and help me in the Sunday-school 
 again." 
 
 James promised delightedly, and went home with 
 a light heart. Five pounds ! and only that morning 
 he had not had as many shillings. That was the 
 way in which he looked at the matter. It was just 
 as true that some time ago, five pounds would have 
 seemed a small sum to the rich man's son, and many 
 people would have looked at it in that light. But 
 Jem, you know, was dull ; so he took the more cheer- 
 ful view. 
 
 This was James Dobbs' first adventure of any con- 
 sequence, and he certainly missed the opportunity of 
 getting a good sum of money by it. But then he 
 made two friends, for both Mr. Handcock and Mr. 
 Barlow were favourably impressed by his conduct 
 and manner. And he could not have made a better
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED. 107 
 
 friend than Mr. Handcock, who had it in his power 
 to make his life much pleasanter and brighter. Mr. 
 Handcock was a really conscientious Christian. Those 
 who knew him hut a little thought him odd, and he 
 certainly was a little unconventional in manner ; but 
 he was no fool, and his cheerful, whimsical manner, 
 joined to real consideration and good feeling, made 
 him a delightful companion, if he liked you. If he 
 did not, he was apt to speak his mind with consider- 
 able candour, which some people thought rude, though 
 it was never rudely done ; and which others called 
 eccentric. But he only disliked people for good rea- 
 sons, and no doubt it did them no harm to hear a 
 little plain speaking, even if they did not like it. 
 When he had succeeded in thawing the frozen surface 
 of poor Jem's shyness, and knew what a good fellow 
 he really was, he was very kind to him, lending him 
 books, taldng him to lectures when the hours suited, 
 and brightening his life in various ways. He had 
 got up a night-school for lads, and as Jem's one 
 weekly walk was lost if he went to the Sunday-school, 
 he made him give that up, and take a class on two 
 nights in the week instead. This Jem willingly did, 
 and found himself greatly interested in it, to his own 
 surprise. 
 
 During this time, Dolly wrote frequently and lov- 
 ingly to "her dear old Jem," but her letters were 
 sometimes rather sad. She said, that in spite of her 
 best endeavours, neither Miranda nor Belinda were 
 ever pleased with anything she did ; and that though 
 mamma was kind, yet even she sometimes seemed to 
 wish her out of the way, and to find her company a 
 restraint. " And I don't say sharp things now, Jem :
 
 108 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 I don't indeed," wrote poor little Dolly; "and it 
 seems hard that now when I try to please them, I 
 cannot, and when I took no pains about it they liked 
 me very well." 
 
 Mr. Sweetrnan was a good deal puzzled by his new 
 shopman. Why a young man who had a comfortable 
 home open to him, with nothing to do, and plenty of 
 amusement, should work away cheerfully and uncom- 
 plainingly, doing rather more than any other man in 
 the establishment, this was a thing which Mr. 
 Sweetman found himself unable to comprehend. He 
 knew that James served him well and faithfully, and 
 yet he did not altogether like him. Nor was James 
 very popular with his companions, though the best 
 among them respected him. It happened when he 
 had been for about two months in the shop, that Mr. 
 Sweetman sent for the six young men who served at 
 the trimming counter, and handed over to them a 
 quantity of worked muslin habit shirts, sleeves, cuffs, 
 and pieces of edging, saying as he did so 
 
 " These have gone out of fashion, and are tossed, 
 as you see. Take them, and make the best of them ; 
 anything you can get for them beyond the sum marked 
 on them, you can keep for yourselves." 
 
 The price marked was of course not written in plain 
 figures, but in the secret shop-mark, which James 
 had found so difficult to remember at first. This is 
 a very common expedient in large shops for getting 
 rid of unsaleable articles, but I think there can be 
 little doubt that it is a very improper one, for it is 
 really inciting the poor salesmen to well, I could 
 easily put it into fine language, but plain words are 
 sometimes the best to tell lies and to cheat. James
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED. 109 
 
 did not quite understand the affair, and said nothing. 
 The goods were brought down, and after some 
 consultation between the head of the department and 
 one of the young men, they were marked in plain 
 figures and hung up in full view, but in such a way as 
 to show the least crushed parts of each article. Soon 
 a young lady came in, and asked James for some 
 cotton. He had not the number she wanted, and 
 asked her to take a chair while he went for some. 
 While he was absent she looked about, and soon a 
 collarette and pair of sleeves took her fancy, and she 
 inquired the price ; one of the young men answered 
 glibly 
 
 " Only ten and sixpence, miss, for the set. It is a 
 great bargain a bankrupt's stock. We have just 
 got in a quantity of them." 
 
 " Let me see it, if you please." 
 
 Mr. Perkins skilfully unhooked it from its perch, 
 still keeping the uncrushed side towards her. 
 
 " The newest fashion, ma'am," said he. Then 
 he turned, feeling a touch on his shoulder, and 
 there stood James, looking gravely at him. But poor 
 Mr. Perkins did not in the least understand why ; 
 so he winked in reply, and returned to his own post. 
 James laid the cotton on the counter, and said, 
 " This is your number, ma'am. How many reels do 
 you want ? " 
 
 " Six, if you please. But I am looking at this col- 
 larette and cuffs. The set is very pretty, and I think 
 it is cheap ; but are you sure it is a new fashion ? for 
 I think I have seen some like this long ago." 
 
 "It is not new, ma'am. These are being sold 
 cheap for that reason," said James, not paying any
 
 110 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 attention to the furious looks of Perkins ; "but they 
 are really cheap, and only a little crushed," he added, 
 turning out the crushed side. " If these were new 
 the price would he twenty-five shillings." 
 
 " Really well, they will do very nicely for what I 
 want," said the yonng lady; and drawing out her 
 purse, she paid for her purchases, and went away. 
 
 Nothing could be said to James just then, because 
 the shop was full ; but at night, when they were free 
 to use their tongues, the five young men fell upon 
 him with one consent, and gave him what they called 
 " a piece of their mind." 
 
 " You might have spoiled the sale of the whole 
 lot," said Smith. 
 
 "The notion of saying it was old-fashioned!" 
 cried another. 
 
 "But it was," said James. 
 
 " That 's no reason why you should say so," said 
 Mr. Perkins. "And you must have heard me tell 
 her it was quite new making a liar of me." 
 
 "Perkins," said Jem, "I didn't make a liar of 
 you." 
 
 Upon which the storm raged so furiously that 
 Mr. Sweetman himself appeared, to ask what was the 
 matter. It was explained to him by Mr. Smith, the 
 others standing by, Perkins looking deeply injured. 
 
 "I had no right to say that," said James, when 
 Mr. Smith wound up by repeating his last remark. 
 " I beg your pardon, Perkins. I spoke in anger, and 
 it was no business of mine. But the young lady 
 asked me the direct question, and I had to tell the 
 truth." 
 
 " Let me hear no more of this," said Mr. Sweetman,
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED. Ill 
 
 grandly. " There must be no brawling and disputing 
 in this establishment. Mr. Dobbs has begged Mr. 
 Perkins' pardon, and there is no more to be said. As 
 to you, Mr. Dobbs, I advise you not to set up for si 
 saint, you won't find it pay ; and if you spoil the sale 
 of my goods, I shall let you know what I think of it 
 pretty plainly." 
 
 For some days after this occurrence Jem was in 
 great disgrace with his companions, but as he was 
 really obliging and kind to them all, they got over it 
 at last, and only thought him a fool. The goods were 
 all sold in time, but to their great amusement, Jem 
 refused to take his share of the profits. They were 
 now more than ever convinced that he was a fool. 
 But it was a curious thing that the fool was quite 
 cheerful and happy, while these wise and knowing- 
 young men felt a little uncomfortable. Mr. Perkins, 
 who had been specially active in the sale, made up 
 his mind to put half a crown into the poor's box on 
 Sunday, which he thought, to use his own expression, 
 " made it square." When Sunday actually came, he 
 contented himself by putting in a shilling, having 
 nearly got rid of his discomfort by that time. 
 
 Christmas came, and Dolly sent James all the 
 money her father and mother gave her as a Christmas 
 box ; and with this unexpected assistance, added to 
 his own savings, he paid Mr. Barlow the five pounds 
 he had borrrowed. He went to Earlstown Villa for 
 this purpose, having asked permission to leave 
 business early, so that he arrived at Mr. Barlow's 
 door at about half-past seven. The servant said that 
 Mr. Barlow was still in the dining-room, but James 
 sent in his name, and was soon desired to walk in ;
 
 112 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 and in the dining-room he found, not only Mr. Barlow, 
 but Mr. Handcock, and he thought they looked rather 
 depressed as he entered. However, Mr. Handcock 
 jumped up with all his usual alacrity. 
 " You here, Jem ?" said he. 
 
 " Good evening, Mr. Dobbs," said the elder gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Good evening, sir. I have taken a liberty in 
 coming at this hour, but you know I am not my own 
 master. I 've coins to pay the money you so kindly 
 lent me, and to tell you how much it helped me. I 
 am fairly able to get on now, sir and I shall never 
 forget your kindness." 
 
 He took out his pocket-book and counted out the 
 five pounds ; a process which took some time, as one 
 pound was in fourpenny and threepenny pieces, and 
 one in shillings and sixpences. Among this small 
 silver, Dolly's three bright new sovereigns looked quite 
 proud ; but his two friends thought that the small 
 change told a tale of many a small self-denial, and 
 Mr. Handcock's eyes brightened and softened as he 
 peeped over his spectacles at the tall strong youth 
 counting up his fourpennies so earnestly. 
 
 " It 's all right," said Jem, having suffered rather a 
 bad moment, owing to a fourpenny concealing itself 
 under a shilling. Little he thought what the 
 fourpennies were saying to the other two, or he would 
 have changed them for gold before he came there. 
 
 " Quite right," said Mr. Barlow, "but now mind, 
 Mr. Dobbs, I am in no hurry for this." 
 " But I 'm so glad to be out of debt, sir." 
 " Quite right there, too. Well, if you ever want a 
 loan you know where to look for it. We are just
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED. 113 
 
 going up to tea ; come and see Mrs. Barlow and my 
 daughter." 
 
 James spent a very pleasant evening, and heard 
 that Lord Warrendale had been greatly delighted 
 about the diamonds, which could not have been found 
 at a better moment, for the young earl was just going 
 to be married. James fancied that when this was said 
 Mr. Handcock sighed ; and he thought that none of 
 them seemed in good spirits. Mr. Handcock left the 
 house with him, and as they walked along together, 
 Tames said 
 
 " I 'm afraid you 're not well, Mr. Handcock ? " 
 
 " Quite well, Jem ; but, old fellow, I 'm in the 
 dumps." 
 
 " dear," said James, stopping short under a 
 gas lamp, and turning his honest eyes, full of 
 sympathy, upon his friend. " Is it that Miss Barlow 
 is ill ? " 
 
 " Why do you think she looked ill ? " said the 
 curate, quickly. 
 
 "I did think so though she had more colour than 
 when I saw her before." 
 
 Mr. Handcock sighed again. Perhaps there was 
 no one else to whom he could have spoken of his 
 anxiety, but Jem's face was so full of sympathy, and 
 his manner so simple, that he never thought about it, 
 but said 
 
 " Yes, she is ill at least she is very delicate. 
 Her father told me so to-night. She and 4 I have been 
 dear friends all our lives, you see. I was a sickly boy, 
 and many a time has Mrs. Barlow taken me from 
 school, and nursed me as if I were her son, when 
 my own mother was abroad with my sisters. So 
 n
 
 114 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 Agatha was like a sister to me and she is very dear 
 to me. We were to have been married early in the 
 new year. But now the doctors say she is very 
 delicate, and must go to the south of France for the 
 rest of this winter, and early spring." 
 
 James looked quite downcast. 
 
 " Such a sad disappointment," he said; "and she 
 looked sad too. I wish she had Dolly with her 
 that would cheer her up." 
 
 " Dolly ? that 's your sister ? " 
 
 " Yes, but you must not think she is a bit like me. 
 She 's the brightest, pleasantest little thing. Well, 
 good-night, Mr. Handcock, I wish I could comfort 
 you but you don't want it ; you are God's servant, 
 and He will comfort you Himself." 
 
 " Thank you, Jem," said the curate, grasping his 
 hand. " He will, I know it, but it 's good to be 
 reminded. Good-night, my dear old fellow." 
 
 So they parted, James going home with his heart 
 full, and wishing very much that Dolly could be there 
 to cheer up poor Agatha, or that he had some of 
 Dolly's bright power of cheering, for the benefit of 
 Mr. Handcock. He let himself in with his latch-key 
 (he was the only lodger so trusted by careful Mrs. 
 Reid), and went up to his little attic ; and when 
 he opened the door, he started to perceive that there 
 was a light in the room. And what was his amaze- 
 ment when some one jumped up from the one chair 
 and flew into his arms, crying 
 
 " Jem ! my dear old Jem, here you are at last ! " 
 And behold, it was Dolly !
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 POOR LITTLE DOLLY. 
 
 AMES' feelings may be imagined but 
 cannot be described. Dolly ! whom he 
 bad believed to be safe at home her com- 
 fortable home, as yet, though how long 
 it might be so no one could say. Dolly ! 
 of whom he had just been thinking, whose 
 bright face had haunted him all the way up those 
 narrow, steep stairs, here was this very Dolly, in his 
 arms and in tears, simultaneously. Crying was no 
 play, I can tell you, done as Dolly did it ! tears ran in 
 rivers down her cheeks, and even down her saucy nose, 
 while she sobbed and choked to an alarming extent. 
 Far from being in a condition to cheer Agatha, she 
 evidently needed cheering herself. 
 
 "Dolly, my own pet! Dolly, my little sister, don't 
 cry, dear heart don't, it hurts me ! What 's the 
 matter, dear ? How did you come here ? You 're 
 not alone, surely ? " 
 
 " Xo, Jem," answered Dolly, with a sob which 
 nearly took her off her feet, " not now, for I 'm with 
 you. Jem, dear, I 've come to you to stay. I have 
 left home." 
 
 " But why, dear ? " 
 
 TT O.
 
 116 MBS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " I '11 tell you all about it. I do hope you won't 
 think I have done wrong I couldn't feel sure myself. 
 But do you know, Jem, I 'm so hungry, you can't 
 think." 
 
 " Hungry, my darling ! I '11 get you something ; 
 Mrs. Eeid shall get some tea for you. She 's the most 
 good-natured woman in the world, I do think. Look 
 here, Dolly, lie on the bed while I 'm away, for it is 
 cold 1 11 cover you up a bit. You must tell me the 
 whole story as we get our supper." 
 
 Dolly gladly lay down, for truly the little thing 
 was spent and worn out ; and in a very few moments 
 after he had tucked the blanket over her, she was 
 asleep, feeling as safe as possible now that she had 
 found Jem. He ran downstairs to the kitchen at 
 once. 
 
 "0 Mrs. Reid, can you help me? My sister has 
 come to see me, and she is hungry and tired ; and 
 I have nothing in my cupboard but bread and 
 cheese." 
 
 " Then, sir, I do assure you, you have more than I 
 counted on," said Mrs. Reid, laughing ; " for I declare 
 I thought it was bread by itself. What a little dear 
 she is, Mr. Dobbs ! When she stood before me at the 
 door after knocking and ringing till I had to go, 
 though (not knowing) I had truly meant to let who- 
 ever it was find their way for themselves, as they 
 could look at the list of lodgers in the hall, without 
 dragging me away from my work, I meant to be 
 cross, I won't deny it ; and she looked up in my face 
 with her pretty brown eyes, and she says, ' Is it here 
 that my brother, Mr. James Dobbs, lives ? ' and, bless 
 you, sir, I saw it all in a moment."
 
 POOR LITTLE DOLLY. 117 
 
 " Saw what, Mrs. Reid ? I don't quite understand." 
 
 " Well, sir, if that innocent child (begging parding) 
 had said to me, ' I didn't think to find him in a place 
 like this,' she couldn't have made it plainer than her 
 eyes did. I always knew that you were used to 
 better, sir; but when I saw the dainty little boots 
 and gloves, and the white feather in the hat and 
 sich I was surer than ever. And I took her up- 
 stairs, at her own request, and her eyes grew bigger 
 and bigger every flight we went up ; and when I 
 opened your door and said as this was your room 
 well, she just flumped down, desolate like, on the 
 chair, and she says, says she, ' Oh, my darling Jem ! ' 
 and I saw she 'd like to he alone, so I only said as 
 how you had your health purely, and the room was 
 sweet and clean though small, and down I came." 
 
 " Poor little Dolly ! " said Jem to himself. 
 
 "Well now, sir," went on the kind landlady, " you 
 take my advice, and you'll comfort her up nicely. 
 Look here, sir ! look at the nice little tray of supper 
 I 've got ready for you ; a dish of sliced ham and a pat 
 of butter, and a sixpenny pot of marmalade, and tea 
 I've made, sir, and even remembered to keep a 
 penn'orth of milk for you ! Now you just let me 
 carry this up as if it was your regular supper (which 
 I wish it was, for your sake) and you just say, careless 
 like, that apartments is dear in Manchester and I '11 
 make up the bed in the little room oppersite to your 
 own, which it 's a piece of luck 'tis empty ; and then 
 to-morrow I suppose she '11 go home, thinking you are 
 not so ill off after all ! Now, what do you think of 
 that, Mr. Dobbs ? for sure I am you wouldn't have 
 her know how hard you 've fared."
 
 118 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 "Now, how did you find that out?" exclaimed 
 James admiringly. 
 
 " Bless you, sir, it wasn't hard ! I don't want for to 
 be peeping and prying and poking ; and never did a 
 letter of one of mij lodgers know the feel of steam, not 
 if it lay before my eyes for hours, and " 
 
 " Steam ! " said Jem, interrupting her in tho 
 extremity of his surprise. "What should anybody 
 steam a letter for ? " 
 
 " Ain't he innocent ! " exclaimed Mrs. Reid, almost 
 pityingly. " To open them, sir. Servants does it 
 often ; and I have heard that them as ought to know 
 better people as lets furnished lodgings and pays 
 taxes demeans themselves to do the like. But I 
 never did, nor never need, for I find things out by 
 what 's that word now ? It 's not inquest no, of 
 course, that 's the coroner. It 's what the showman 
 said the elephant had when he blew at the apple, you 
 know." 
 
 " I don't know about that," said James, doubtfully, 
 " and I don't think apples grow where there are 
 elephants ; but I think the word you want is 
 instinct." 
 
 " So it is, sir see what 'tis to be a scholar ! " (Poor 
 Jem, no one had ever accused him of that before.) 
 " Now sir ! the tea 's ready, and up we go." 
 
 "Let me carry it, though," said Jem. "Why 
 should you have to go up all those stairs ? How nice 
 it looks you 've been very kind, Mrs. Keid, and I '11 
 settle with you when Dolly is gone." 
 
 " You go up, Mr. Dobbs, and say, careless like, 
 'I've ordered supper to come up,' and then in I 
 come, and how 's Miss Dolly to know that I don't
 
 POOR LITTLE DOLLY. 119 
 
 have to do it every night ? and I only wish I had, 
 sir." 
 
 " All in good time, Mrs. Reid. Well I '11 go up 
 then." 
 
 Up he ran, and found Dolly fast asleep ; and there 
 he stood looking at her until Mrs. Eeid opened the 
 door and came in with the tray. 
 
 " Laws, the little creetur !" she exclaimed, "look 
 at the eyelashes wet, and the pretty pink stealing 
 back into her cheeks. She 's a little darling, sir, she 
 really is." 
 
 ' ' Dolly, dear ! Dolly wake up, and have some 
 supper. Come now don't shut your eyes again, but 
 sit up. Oh, you sleepy little kitten ! Look Mrs. 
 Eeid is laughing at you." 
 
 " I 've just brought up Mr. Dobbs's supper-tray, 
 miss," said the wily Mrs. Reid, rightly suspecting that 
 her kindly deception would be better carried out by 
 herself than by Jem, " and I made bold to make some 
 tea for you." 
 
 Dolly looked at the tray and then at James. 
 
 " Jem," said she, " do you always have a really 
 good supper like this ? for, oh, my dear, you 're very 
 thin ! " 
 
 Jem would have betrayed the secret then and there, 
 but Mrs. Reid answered for him. 
 
 " He don't have marmalade, Miss ; I added that on 
 your account." 
 
 " That was very kind of you," said Dolly, getting 
 off the bed, " and I'm so glad Jem has a kind person 
 to see after him." 
 
 Mrs. Reid withdrew, and the other two ate a com- 
 fortable meal. James did justice to the good fare, 

 
 120 MBS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 and then put by the remains very carefully in his 
 cupboard (a proceeding which might have enlightened 
 Dolly, but did not, she was so pre-occupied). Then 
 having brought a second chair from the room on the 
 other side of the passage, he sat down to hear what 
 his sister had to tell him. Poor little Dolly ! how 
 much had she found out ? and what on earth wi:h 
 he to do ? 
 
 " Well, Jem, I'll begin my story at the very begin- 
 ning. For some days past, Mamma has been in very 
 bad spirits. Papa is away in London. Mamma 
 scolded us if we said she looked ill, but she did look 
 ill, and harassed and miserable : and no wonder ! 
 They went out yesterday to pay some visits, and 
 Belinda said there was not room for me, so I stayed 
 at home, and was writing a long letter to you, when 
 Robert came in and said there was a ' young person ' 
 in the hall, who would not go away without seeing one 
 of the family. He said, in a queer half-angry way, ' I 
 told her Missus is out, but she don't seem to believe 
 me.' So JE ran down to see what it all was dear ! 
 I almost wish I hadn't." 
 
 " Why ? But go on, dear ; I don't want to speak 
 until I know what you have heard." 
 
 "I rather think you know that already, Jem; ut 
 least I felt that I understood then why you had left 
 home. This woman she wasn't a young person by 
 any means, whatever Robert meant by calling her so, 
 asked me to speak to her privately. So I took her 
 into the breakfast room. And then I really don't 
 remember how she began, but she thought I knew all 
 about it, and then I questioned her and she is the 
 person from whom Mamma and the girls get all their
 
 POOR LITTLE DOLLY. 121 
 
 dresses ; and they owe her nearly seven hundred 
 pounds ! Jem, fancy that ! " 
 
 "My goodness!" exclaimed Jem, really amazed, 
 " What ! all for gowns and things ? " 
 
 " Yes ! and that ruby velvet dress of Mamma's, 
 Avith the deep lace trimming, cost more than fifty ! 
 But what makes me savage is that part of it is for 
 the very things I am wearing. Only the other day 
 Mamma said I must he dressed more like a grown-up 
 girl, and got me lots of pretty things. Well, I said 
 that of course Mamma would pay her at once if she 
 wanted it ; I said she must have forgotten ; hut 
 Mrs. Pyusent said, no, she couldn't have forgotten, 
 because she had been begging and praying for payment 
 for some time. I assured her that it must be a 
 mistake, and I promised to get Mamma to send her 
 the money next day this very day, though I feel as 
 if all this had happened a week ago." 
 
 " What did Mamma say ? " 
 
 " My dear, I said it out before the girls, the 
 moment they all came home, and Mamma was so angry. 
 Belinda said, ' Why, Mamma, didn't Papa give you a 
 cheque to pay Mrs. Pynsent before he went away ? ' 
 Mamma told her not to worry, because she was tired 
 and had a headache, and she went off to her own 
 room, making me go with her. And then she told me 
 I had done quite wrong in interfering in her affairs, 
 and promising that she would pay to-morrow indeed, 
 she was very angry, and so was I. And I went on 
 questioning and talking, and Mamma told me first one 
 thing and then another, contradicting herself, and 
 crying and I 'm afraid I was saucy, Jem ; indeed, I 
 know I was."
 
 122 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Well, dear, you begged her pardon, and " 
 
 " No, I did not," said Dolly, candidly but dismally. 
 " I did quite the other thing ; I said at last, ' Mamma, 
 all this is of no use, I am sure there is something 
 wrong. Why did Jem go away ? I 'm sure he had 
 found out that we are ruined, and ought not to be 
 living as we do. I insist upon knowing the truth ; 
 what has become of the money Papa gave you to pay 
 Mrs. Pynsent ? ' And Mamma cried, and said I was 
 very undutiful, and indeed so I was, James, but she 
 told me all at last. Papa had given her the money, 
 or most of it ; but after he was gone, the butcher came 
 and was very rude, poor Mamma said, and she gave 
 him the money. Papa was to be home to-morrow 
 that is to-day, you know and she would try to get 
 more from him." 
 
 " Well, my dear, was that all ? " 
 
 " Not quite. She told me that if I breathed a word 
 of this, or did anything foolish (for I wanted to send 
 back some of my new things that I have never worn 
 to Mrs. Pynsent), I should bring the whole family to 
 ruin ; and she said Papa turned you out because you 
 found out, and would not hold your tongue, and that 
 I must be wise and good ; but I don't know, can it 
 be right for me to stay there, profiting by it all ? Yon 
 would not, you know. And I could not sleep all 
 night, and this morning (would you believe it, Jem ? ) 
 they all went to another dressmaker and bought 
 gowns, ' to teach that Pynsent a lesson ! ' they said. 
 And I was so angry that I just walked upstairs, and 
 put on my things, and came to you. I thought I 
 could write and get my things if I stay with you, 
 and I expected to have time to get back this evening
 
 POOR LITTLE DOLLY. 123 
 
 if you thought I ought to go ; but you were 
 out." 
 
 " Dolly, what do you think yourself about it ? " 
 
 " I really don't know what to think. You left 
 home, you know." 
 
 " Not quite for the reason you think. And you are 
 quite different. I am a man, or nearly ; able to live 
 hard and do without things, and I ought to be doing 
 for myself." 
 
 " And so ought I, and all of us." 
 
 " Yes but I think you ought to wait. My father 
 told me that he only needed time to recover himself 
 and be all right. I dont know he is very clever, and 
 he knows best, perhaps ; but I could not stay. But 
 you know, Dolly, there 's a great difference between 
 my leaving home, and your doing it. People would 
 think nothing of me ; but if you did it, every one would 
 be talking, and you might really bring on ruin 
 hasten it, at least ; and my father may yet retrieve 
 matters." * 
 
 " Jem, if I might stay with you ! I always was to 
 be your housekeeper, you know." 
 
 " But I have not got a house to keep yet ! Dolly, 
 I can't deceive you. You don't know what a hard 
 struggle I have had just to live. I shall do well 
 yet, I hope ; but if it had not been for Mr. 
 Barlow's kindness in lending me five pounds, I 
 don't quite know how I should have got through 
 this winter at all. And you know I would work 
 for you, Dolly, and that all I have would be yours, 
 but I cannot think that you ought to run into 
 such poverty and hardship, if until it can't be 
 helped."
 
 124 MRS. DOBB8 % DULL BOY. 
 
 "If it was right for you, it must be right for me. 
 I could work too." 
 
 " Well, but my father wished me to go. Now, you 
 know he would not hear of your going." 
 
 " Would you have stayed if he had wished it ? " 
 
 James looked thoughtful. 
 
 "Dolly," he said, after a long pause, "I'm so 
 dull, that I 'm sure to betray myself. My only plan 
 is to tell you the plain truth, and then I think you '11 
 see that I am right. But first you must promise me 
 to be quite silent ; never to hint even to Mamma that 
 you know anything." 
 
 "Know anything! why surely there is nothing 
 worse to be known than what I have told you ? " 
 
 " There is. If that were all Oh, what a relief it 
 would be ! Dolly, there is something much worse. 
 You remember that I went that day to help in the 
 office instead of Fitz. You would not understand 
 how I found it out : it was by accidentally taking up 
 a wiong paper but I know that " 
 
 He covered his face with his hands, and groaned. 
 
 " Jem, dear, don't stop there. I see it is some- 
 thing dreadful, but do go on." 
 
 "Dolly he might be transported for it. He will 
 be if it is found out." 
 
 " What, Papa transported ! " and 1 Dolly's face 
 grew as white as milk. 
 
 "He thinks he will be able to replace the money 
 before it is called for ; but it is a chance, and if the 
 chance goes against him, it is worse than ruin. I am 
 not sure that he knows for certain that I saw this so 
 clearly, that I had seen that he was falsifying 
 accounts ; but that was not all he would not let me
 
 POOR LITTLE DOLLY. 125 
 
 speak hardly. He told me that my mother knew 
 everything, but I am nearly sure that she does not 
 know this. I fancy he was not certain how much I 
 understood, and only wanted to stop my tongue, and 
 that Mamma only knows that he is in difficulties." 
 
 " Jem, it is too dreadful ! poor Papa ! What 
 is to become of us all '? " 
 
 " You must see now that you ought not to do 
 anything that might injure him. To set people 
 talking now might be ruin. You must go back, 
 Dolly, and wait. It may never come he may have 
 replaced the money he used ; but if it does come, it 
 will be soon. And your place is with Mamma it 
 will be dreadful for her." 
 
 Dolly was very pale, and trembled visibly. 
 
 " My poor little dear ! I think now I ought not to 
 have told you." 
 
 " I am glad you did, Jem. It has made me feel 
 sorry for them, and I only felt angry before. Yes, I 
 must go home. I will beg Mamma's pardon, and try 
 to be very good to her, and perhaps I may be able to 
 coax her to get no more things. Surely we have 
 enough for a dozen women." 
 
 " But don't betray what I have told you, for I really 
 don't think she knows it." 
 
 " I don't think she does, it would have slipped out 
 yesterday. I'll be careful, Jem. Do you think Fitz 
 knows ? He is always in the office." 
 
 " I don't know. Poor Fitz ! I hope not." 
 
 " Jem, anything would be better than such 
 disgrace. I shouldn't mind being poor I should be 
 willing to work. But this is dreadful." 
 
 " I almost wish I had not told you ; but I did not
 
 126 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 see how to manage. Now come and see what kind of 
 bed Mrs. Reid has got ready for you : this is the 
 room. Quite near to me, you see. Can you manage 
 here, just for to-night ? " 
 
 " yes, I am so tired that I could sleep on the 
 floor; only, I want to cry, Jem." 
 
 " Don't do that, dear. It only makes your head 
 heavy and does no good. You must he wise and 
 quiet, Dolly, for you have a very trying time hefore 
 you. Good-night, my own little Dolly ! I '11 call 
 you early that we may have our breakfast together." 
 
 Poor Dolly did cry very bitterly, in spite of this 
 exhortation ; but she did not cry very long, for sleep 
 came to her relief. 
 
 James did not sleep well, for he was troubled by 
 serious doubts of the wisdom and " Tightness," to use 
 his own word, of having told Dolly his secret. But 
 it was done, and could not be undone, so the best 
 way was to pray that it might do no harm. If the 
 crash ever came, it would surely come soon ; so her 
 suspense would not last long. At last he got a little 
 sleep, but he was up early, and made the room look 
 its very best (which is not saying much) before Dolly 
 came in. They had breakfast together, and then 
 James said 
 
 " Now I '11 go to Mr. Sweetman, and ask for leave to 
 go and see you off. I would go with you, dear, only 
 it is better not ; I couldn't well afford it." 
 
 "I have more than will take me home, but not 
 enough, I 'm afraid, for a return ticket for you. Jem, 
 you should have told me how poor you are." 
 
 " I am sure I ought not ! The worst is over now, 
 and though I am glad to have a peep at you, I wish
 
 POOR LITTLE DOLLY. 127 
 
 you need never have known ; for I am not a bit the 
 worse, and you know everything has a beginning." 
 
 "May I walk to the shop with you? It will be 
 pleasanter to be with you as much as I can, and 
 besides, it is so cold, and the walk will warm us." 
 
 "I would have had a fire, only, you see, I have no 
 grate. It 's a fine day, though, and the walk will do 
 you good, so come along." 
 
 Dolly was soon ready, and while Jem was putting 
 away his bread, etc, she was looking round the little 
 room, making her observations, particularly on the 
 window. Then they went off together to Mr. Sweetman, 
 and whether it was Dolly's black velvet hat and white 
 feather that mollified him, or not, I don't know ; but 
 certainly he was gracious, and desired James to take 
 the whole day if he liked. 
 
 "Is not that nice?" cried Dolly, when they were 
 again in the street. "Now we '11 go to a bookseller's, 
 and find out the hours for the trains, and I '11 go by 
 the latest that will bring me home before dark." 
 
 "I may surely keep you for an hour or two. 
 Here's a shop we'll ask to see a time-table. We 
 need not buy it," added Jem, prudently. 
 
 There was a train at four o'clock, which would 
 reach Middlemore at half-past five. As Dolly had 
 left a note to say that she was gone to James, she 
 did not think they would be uneasy about her. 
 
 "Now," said she, "I have some business to do. 
 Take me to a shop where I can buy a hammer and 
 some nails." 
 
 "What for, child?" 
 
 " You will see, sir. Here's a shop." 
 
 These purchases made, Dolly set off again in the
 
 128 MBS. DOBBS' DULL B0Y. 
 
 most business-like way, and presently discovered a 
 small carpenter's establishment, where she further 
 mystified her brother by purchasing some thin, long 
 slips of wood. All these things she made Jem carry 
 home, and then laying aside hat and jacket, and 
 tucking up the sleeves of her pretty dress, she pro- 
 ceeded to fit the wood closely round the leaking 
 window, not interfering with its very limited power 
 of opening, but completely curing the leaks, as Jem 
 found to his comfort when it next rained. Then she 
 drove some hooks into the back of the door, for his 
 things to hang upon ; and then she solemnly made 
 him a present of the remaining nails and the hammer. 
 
 "Now, Jem," said she, instructively, " if you had 
 made that window tight long ago, you see, you would 
 have been more comfortable. Mind you keep these 
 nails, and put some in if mine come out." 
 
 " What a handy housekeeper I shall have one of 
 these days," said Jem. 
 
 " Now come and show me the lane where you found 
 the wonderful box, Jem." 
 
 Ah, how Jem enjoyed that walk ! and how Dolly 
 cried out with delight when he actually found the 
 very hole out of which the box had come. It was full 
 of water, but that did not detract from its interest. 
 Then she lost her heart to the deserted lodge. 
 
 " My fingers itch to be at that trellis- work, Jeui. 
 It 's as well I haven't my hammer and nails here. 
 How pretty I could make that garden. Oh, if you and 
 I might live here." 
 
 " It is very pretty," said James; "and when I'm 
 rich richer, at least I '11 make Lord Warrendale an 
 offer for it, Dolly."
 
 POOR LITTLE DOLLY. 129 
 
 " Now show me the church you attend, and where 
 that kind Mr. Barlow lives." 
 
 "But won't you he tired, dear ?" 
 
 " Oh, not too tired. It will comfort me a little, 
 when I am at home again, to know what the places 
 you live in look like. I know the shop now, and 
 Mr. Sweetman ; and I can't say I like him. Oh, Jem, 
 won't it be nice if we meet Mr. Handcock ?" 
 
 After visiting the church, they found themselves 
 presently at the gate of Mr. Barlow's house; and 
 while they were lingering there, Mr. Barlow himself 
 came up to them, heing on his way home. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Dobbs, is this you ?" said he. 
 
 "Yes, sir, and this is my sister," said Jem, 
 proudly. " She came to see me, and she made me 
 bring her to look at your house, because you have 
 been so kind to me." 
 
 Mr. Barlow glanced at Dolly's bright, blooming 
 face, and sighed a little, thinking of his poor, pale 
 Agatha. 
 
 "You must come in," he said, "and rest, Miss 
 Dobbs. As to my wonderful kindness, do you know 
 that this brother of yours refused a very handsome 
 sum of money, which was offered as a reward for 
 finding those diamonds long before he was born ? 
 And then he borrowed five pounds, and calls it a 
 great kindness." 
 
 "And so it was," said Dolly, shyly smiling, and 
 dimpling all over. 
 
 "Well, that's a matter of opinion; I knew the 
 money was safe, at all events. Will you come in and 
 see my daughter?" said Mr. Barlow, feeling that 
 the pleasant, cheery little girl must refresh Agatha
 
 130 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 somehow. So, as Dolly evidently wished to go, James 
 accepted the invitation, and they went in. Lunch 
 was on the tahle, and Mr. Handcock made his 
 appearance before they had finished it, so that all 
 Dolly's wishes were gratified. Mr. Handcock peeped 
 at her over his spectacles, and smiled at Jem. 
 
 " I don't wonder you thought a sight of your sister 
 would cheer a person up," he whispered. And James 
 glowed all over with delighted pride. "Wlien luncheon 
 was over, he moved to go away, but Miss Barlow 
 would not part with Dolly ; and as ten minutes' brisk 
 walking would take them to the station, James did 
 not hurry away. When they did depart, Dolly was 
 furnished with a basket containing a great bunch of 
 grapes for her refreshment during the journey ; but 
 what she cared about much more was, that the 
 Barlows so evidently liked and respected her "dear 
 old Jem." As the brother and sister ran up the 
 stairs of the terminus, what was their surprise to 
 meet their father, looking harassed and anxious, and 
 very unwilling to meet the eyes of his children. 
 
 " Papa ! did you come for me ? " cried Dolly. 
 " I was coming home by the next train." 
 
 He looked relieved, and said, " Yes, I came for 
 you. I have only just arrived. Well, James I hope 
 are you getting on well ? " 
 
 "I hope so, Father. Dolly thinks now that she 
 did not do right in leaving home, sir ; and I 'm glad 
 she will have you to take care of her on her journey." 
 
 "Oh, she only came to see you ! young ladies are 
 so independent now-a-days. This way, Dolly ; there 's 
 a train just due. Have you got your ticket ? Then 
 I '11 go and get it for you."
 
 POOR LITTLE DOLLY. 131 
 
 He walked away, and did not return until the train 
 was just starting. He never looked at James, nor 
 offered him his hand, but just said " good-bye " in a 
 hurried voice, and followed Dolly into the carriage. 
 James went home with a very heavy heart. 
 
 Poor little Dolly ! what a burden he had laid upon 
 her merry young heart ! a burden of watching and fear, 
 which tried even his own steady spirit. And he was 
 fond of his father too, and had been proud of him 
 once ; and the look of shame and embarrassment his 
 face now wore saddened him more than even the 
 thought of Dolly. 
 
 12
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HOW THE CRASH CAME. 
 
 OLLY needed all her courage and all her 
 wisdom before she was much older. It 
 was not long before the storm she expected 
 burst upon her family. First came 
 muttering thunder in the distance, warning 
 her the warning coming from handsome, 
 easy-going, careless Fitz. He offended the young 
 lady to whom he was engaged by not being as 
 attentive to her as she had a right to expect. He did 
 not greatly care for her, though she was a pretty, nice 
 girl, and far above him in the social scale ; but he had 
 been talked into the affair by his mother. 
 
 It may indeed be doubted whether Fitz had depth or 
 strength enough in him to love anybody very much. 
 Young people talk about "falling in love," and 
 " being desperately in love," as if it were as common 
 as the air we breathe. Whereas true love is a very 
 rare, precious, and beautiful thing ; and the fact that a 
 young man or girl has the strength of character to be 
 really and honestly in love, is very much to the credit 
 of the said young man or girl, and so far forth as that 
 love is pure and unselfish, brings him or her nearer to 
 the image of Him Who is love.
 
 HOW THE CRASH CAME. 133 
 
 However, to return to Fitz. The coolness between 
 him and Lucy Darwin frightened Mrs. Dobhs very 
 much. She regarded this marriage as the only 
 chance of providing (in case of the worst) a luxurious 
 home for herself and her daughters while Mr. Dobbs 
 was engaged in retrieving his fallen fortunes, and as 
 a certain provision for her favourite, Fitz. She was 
 therefore both frightened and angry, and in her 
 agitation she let fall some words which Fitz scarcely 
 heard at the moment, but which came back into his 
 mind with unpleasant force the next day. " Ruin," 
 "our only hope," "what did his mother mean?" 
 Was it possible that the governor was no longer as 
 prosperous as he had been ? He looked awfully 
 down. The poor old governor very likely he had 
 come to grief in some of these risky speculations of 
 which he was so fond; but very likely too Mamma 
 greatly exaggerated this supposed ill-luck, being a 
 nervous, excitable woman. Things could not be so 
 bad but he would ask the governor the plain question. 
 With this intention Fitz sauntered to the office ; and 
 in a very short time he came back again, with a face 
 full of such angry alarm, that Dolly, who happened 
 to be in the hall, knew in a moment that his turn had 
 come to make some wretched discovery. 
 
 " Dolly, where 's your mother ? " 
 
 " She is out ; and so are the girls." 
 
 Fitz muttered an angry oath. 
 
 "Dori\, Fitz," pleaded Dolly. "What do you 
 want ? Can I do anything for you ? " 
 
 " No, Dolly, neither you nor any one else, I suspect ; 
 unless you will lend me money to invest in a revolver, 
 wherewith to blow out my brains."
 
 134 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 "What nonsense you are talking," said Dolly, 
 seeing that one of the gorgeous footmen was near. 
 " Come in here, and tell me what is the matter." 
 
 She drew him into the little breakfast-room, of 
 which she had lately taken possession. Her books 
 and drawing lay on the table, but Fitz, throwing 
 himself down on a chair, flung his arms over books 
 and all, never minding what destruction he worked 
 among her paints, as he hid his face with a groan. 
 
 " Dolly, you don't know what a miserable beggar 
 I am ! " 
 
 " You do look miserable," said Dolly, kindly, " but 
 why, Fitz ? Is it about Lucy ? She will forgive you 
 for she is very fond of you." 
 
 Fitz groaned again. 
 
 " Bother Lucy ! " he said. " You wouldn't under- 
 stand, Dolly, if I told you. I should be hours 
 explaining it to you, and I haven't patience for that. 
 Good gracious, what a fool I was to ask questions ! I 
 might just as well have had a few weeks or months 
 more of peace and happiness. The governor too 
 quiet, steady, hard working old pater to have made 
 such a mess of everything. It's very hard lines 
 particularly on me, as the eldest." 
 
 " Fitz, tell me plainly, what have you found out ? " 
 
 " Nonsense, child. Papa desired me to talk to no 
 one but to my mother." 
 
 "Because Mirrie and Linda know nothing; but I 
 do." 
 
 " You do ! you, little Dolly ? And how on earth 
 did you come to know ? " 
 
 " Never mind tell me what you know ? " 
 
 " Why," said Fitz, sinking his voice to a whisper.
 
 HOW THE CRASH CAME. 135 
 
 " I know that the governor is over head and ears in 
 debt ! Everthing has been going wrong with him for 
 some time, and we are in the very edge of a pit, into 
 which we must fall sooner or later, unless some stroke 
 of good luck turns up to save us. It 's deuced hard 
 lines, Dolly ; but of course it comes hardest on me, 
 as the eldest." 
 
 "I don't know that," said Dolly, mentally com- 
 paring handsome, clever Fitz, and his way of taking 
 the trouble, with her dear, slow, plain old Jem, not 
 much to Mr. Fitz's advantage, which would have 
 astonished him not a little. 
 
 "I don't know that, Fitz. You are a man, and 
 well educated. It will fall hardest on Mamma and 
 the girls." 
 
 " I don't know what 's to become of any of us," said 
 Fitz, dismally, passing his fingers through his curly 
 hair until it stood on end, giving him a most distracted 
 look. 
 
 "I suppose, though," said Dolly, gently, "you 
 think you must tell " 
 
 " Who ? Go on, Dolly. My father bound me down 
 to tell no one. Who do you fancy could help me ? " 
 
 " It was not that ; I was thinking of Lucy Darwin. 
 It would not be honourable, of course, not to tell her. 
 I'm so sorry for you, Fitz." 
 
 He laughed aloud. His little sister's idea of 
 honour amused him greatly. 
 
 " Oh, you little greenhorn ! " he said. " Not tell 
 her ? Of course I shall not tell her. My dear baby, 
 if I had had an idea of this, Lucy would have found 
 me much more devoted, I promise you. But now 
 she has gone off to London, on a visit to her most
 
 136 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 cantankerous guardian, old Rodgers, and that proves 
 that she was very angry. I did not care so much 
 for really Lucy is very exacting but now it 's a 
 different thing altogether. I must get some tin from 
 the governor, and set off after her, do the penitent 
 and despairing dodge, and try to keep things straight 
 until she is of age." 
 
 "Fitz! you won't do anything so base!" cried 
 Dolly, indignantly. 
 
 " Base ! don't be a goose, child. Will you think it 
 base when I offer you all a home, by-and-by ? Perhaps 
 you would prefer the poorhouse ? " 
 
 " I almost think I should ! but I can work, and 
 will! Fitz, I am disappointed. I never expected 
 this. I 've often been so sorry to see you allowed 
 to do a dishonest thing without knowing it and 
 
 now 
 
 " And now, my dear, I must commit this fearful 
 iniquity, knowing all . about it. I quite agree with 
 you that it was pleasanter to do it blindly I hear the 
 carriage." He ran to look out. " Yes, here 's Mamma. 
 Well, good-bye, baby ; and mind you don 't let all 
 this out." 
 
 " There 's no danger of that. I have known it for 
 a long time." Poor Dolly, it really seemed a long 
 time, though it was only a couple of months. " But 
 you will betray it if you are not more cautious 
 than you were in the hall just now. Robert was 
 listening." 
 
 " Was he ? I '11 pull his ears for him. We must 
 keep the ship afloat until I 'm safely married, Miss 
 Dolly." 
 
 " dear Fitz," said the girl with tears in her eyes,
 
 HOW THE CRASH CAME. 137 
 
 " won't you think better of it ? It seems to me so 
 dreadful that we should go on deceiving and cheating 
 every one. Could we do worse if we were heathens, 
 who never knew the will of God, or cared to please 
 _/Him?" 
 
 "Don't preach, pretty Dolly," he said lightly; 
 " it 's a horrid trick for a girl to get." 
 
 Dolly fired her last gun. 
 
 "Do you know, Fitz, that James went away to 
 work hard, and live hard rather than be a party to 
 this fraud?" 
 
 " Dear dull old fellow ! Wasn't that like him now ? 
 Well, my child, he has his reward in the comfortable 
 feeling of being so superior to the rest of his family. 
 It must be a fine thing to be so good, but a little 
 cDinmou sense is more in my line. Good-bye, little 
 Dolly. I must go and speak to my mother. Thanks 
 for your lecture, my dear." 
 
 Fitz marched off, and Dolly let him go ; for trying 
 to talk seriously to Fitz was very like pouring water 
 into a sieve. She saw her father come in presently, 
 and her soft little heart bled for him, so old and 
 careworn and unhappy did he look. Fitz no doubt 
 got the money he wanted, for he left home the next 
 day, and followed Miss Darwin to London. He wrote 
 to his mother in a few days, that "he had eaten any 
 amount of humble pie, and had no doubt of being 
 forgiven very soon." 
 
 Harcourt was paying a visit to an old schoolfellow 
 when all this took place. He was of a much graver, 
 more solid character than Fitz ; and had he had the 
 least suspicion of the true state of affairs, he would, 
 without doubt, have contrived to make some provision
 
 138 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 for his own future, without even as much thought as 
 Fitz had given to the future of the rest of his family, 
 for he was far more selfish than his brother. 
 
 It was the last week in April. Dolly had been 
 working in her garden, sowing seeds and planting out 
 slips not expecting, indeed, to see them blossom, but 
 glad of the employment and the change of thought. 
 She had put away her gardening tools, and stood 
 shaking the mould from her thick leather gloves, 
 preparatory to going to the house to dress for dinner, 
 when, hearing a man's step upon the gravelled walk, 
 she turned, expecting to see the gardener, but to her 
 surprise it was her father. 
 
 "Dolly," said he, "take this letter, and give it to 
 your mother to-night, but not until ten o'clock. You 
 may as well warn her that there is bad news in it." 
 
 "0 Papa! has it come?" 
 
 "It has come. I fought hard, but I'm beaten. 
 I 've done my best for your mother and for you girls. 
 Take care of that letter, Dolly, and do as your 
 mother tells you. I have given her full directions, 
 and I '11 join her again one of these days, if I can. 
 You 're the only person in the house that I can trust 
 not to go into hysterics, but you '11 do as I tell you, 
 and hold your tongue until to-night. I shall be out 
 of reach by that time, even if they raise suspicion 
 by making a fuss. But keep them quiet, Dolly, if 
 you can. Stay here for a while; don't follow me in 
 at once." 
 
 He kissed her hastily, and went back to the house, 
 leaving her half stunned. 
 
 She waited for about half an hour, and then went 
 slowly home through the familiar garden she loved so
 
 HOW THE CRASH CAME. 139 
 
 well, and which she never saw again save in her 
 dreams. She was so nervous and frightened that she 
 sent an excuse for not appearing at dinner, knowing 
 that her face would make them question her ; luckily 
 she did not feel hungry. When it was nearly time for 
 her to deliver the letter to her mother (such a thick, 
 heavy letter it was), she dressed as if for dinner ; 
 for Mrs. Dohbs would have been annoyed had she 
 appeared in her morning dress, and Dolly did not 
 want to begin her task by vexing her. Down she 
 went with the big letter in the pocket of her white 
 gown, which was not whiter than Dolly's usually 
 bright and happy face. To her surprise, when she 
 opened the door of the drawing-room, she found Fitz 
 and Harcourt there with the others. 
 
 " Why, Dolly, you are as white as a sheet," cried 
 Fitz. "'Are you feeling ill, child ? " 
 
 "No, thank you. When did you both come 
 home ? " 
 
 Fitz made no answer, but she saw that he was ill at 
 ease. Harcourt said, with a laugh 
 
 " There 's some mystery in it. Fitz got a telegram 
 this morning from my father, desiring him to come 
 home ; and I got another, just the same. I fancied 
 some one was ill ; but when he comes in he '11 explain 
 matters, I suppose." 
 
 " He did not dine at home to-day," said Mrs. Dobbs. 
 " They are all getting ready for the meeting to-morrow 
 about the new town-hall ; he 's the treasurer, you 
 know. I daresay that delayed him." 
 
 While she was speaking, the clock on the mantel- 
 shelf struck ten. Dolly nerved herself to do her 
 work.
 
 149 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 "Mamma," she said, faltering a little, "I'm 
 afraid you need not expect something has happened, 
 Mamma. There is bad news." 
 
 "What do you mean, child?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Dohbs, suddenly sitting upright in her chair, and 
 speaking quickly and sharply. ' ' Dolly, you know 
 something ! tell me at once." 
 
 " I met Papa ; and he said he was going away." 
 
 " When was this ? Why didn't you tell me at 
 once ? " 
 
 "Because he desired me to wait. He said at ten 
 o'clock I was to give you this letter." 
 
 " A letter give it here at once." 
 
 She seized the letter opened it hurriedly. A 
 second envelope fell to the floor ; but she stooped for 
 it before any one else could move, and put it in her 
 pocket. Then she read the letter, her children 
 watching her with alarm, for even the three who 
 were completely in the dark were frightened. Mrs. 
 Dobbs turned very pale as she read. When she had 
 finished the last page, she stared vacantly at her sons 
 and daughters, and then, having begun to read the 
 letter again, she fell back in her chair almost fainting. 
 Miranda screamed, and Belinda ran to call for help ; 
 but Dolly caught her by the arm and stopped her. 
 
 " Don't, Linda ! don't call any one." 
 
 " Let me go, Dolly how dare you ? " 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Linda," cried Fitz, " do as 
 you 're bid ; we don't want the servants here." 
 
 Dolly ran for water ; Belinda seized a fan, and used 
 it vigorously ; Mrs. Dobbs sat up and gasped out, 
 " What was it, Fitz ? Am I dreaming ? " 
 
 " Let me see the letter," said Fitz.
 
 HOW THE CRASH CAME. 141 
 
 " I don't understand it," she moaned. " Shut the 
 ioors lock them ; no one must hear a word. Oh, my 
 poor girls ! they have had no warning." 
 
 " Neither have I," said Harcourt ; " but you 
 have, Fitz, and so has Dolly. What is the matter ? 
 nothing very serious, I hope ? " 
 
 " I am afraid it is serious," said Dolly, gravely. 
 
 "Read the letter," cried Harcourt, impatiently. 
 " Don't keep us all wondering and waiting. Read it 
 out, Fitz, and then I suppose we shall know the 
 whole." 
 
 Fitz locked the door of the outer room, and shut 
 that of the room they were in. Then he took the 
 letter from his mother's nerveless hand, and said 
 
 " Now for it: 
 
 " MY DEAR WIFE, You have long known that I 
 was in serious difficulties ; therefore what I have to tell 
 you now will not come upon you quite by surprise. I 
 am a ruined man, and not only ruined, but disgraced. 
 The money collected for the new town-hall was lying 
 idle in my hands at a time when it seemed to me 
 certain that the use of it would save me, and that I 
 should be able to replace it before it was called for. 
 But I have been more and more unlucky every day, 
 and now unexpectedly the quarrel about the architect 
 is made up, and a meeting called for to-morrow to 
 arrange for beginning the building. This seals my 
 fate. Heaven help me ! Two thousand pounds of that 
 money remains in my hands. It is the only money 1 
 can lay hands on. I enclose it in English bank 
 notes, for your use and that of my children. I have 
 taken every precaution to prevent the chance of the
 
 142 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 money being traced. You may use it without fear ; as 
 for me, it is only one crime more. Leave Middlemore 
 before there is any alarm about me, and go, all of you, 
 to San Francisco. I enclose a letter to a man there 
 whom I befriended once, and I don't think he will 
 forget that now, though he is not a man of the best 
 character. He will put the boys in the way of getting 
 on. They are clever boys, and out there, this is a good 
 capital. I will join you there if I live. But take no 
 steps to find me ; I can always find you through John 
 Murray. Write a note, to be sent to-morrow morning, 
 to Mr. Churchill, the chairman of the town-hall 
 committee, saying that I am summoned to London on 
 urgent business. This will gain you a few hours' 
 delay, and you must all make the most of it. I can 
 do no more for any of you. Mary, I am a miserable 
 man. God forgive you for your share in this work. 
 I don't want to say an unkind word, my poor woman, 
 but if you had been content without so much 
 grandeur, I might be an honest man this day, able to 
 face all the world, instead of a poor wretch only 
 asking to hide himself. 
 
 " Your unhappy husband, 
 
 "TH. DOBBS." 
 
 It is impossible to describe the scene that took 
 place when this letter had been read. All talked at 
 once ; all bewailed themselves in their different ways, 
 except poor Dolly, who sat silent and frightened. 
 Miranda and Mrs. Dobbs did nothing but cry, and 
 were so evidently in no state to make any arrange- 
 ments, that after a while Fitz, Harcourt, and Belinda, 
 held a whispered consulation. The result of this was
 
 HOW THE CRASH CAME. 143 
 
 thai Dolly was desired to get her mother to bed, and 
 not to let her maid into the room. " Say she is 
 hysterical, Dolly but for pity's sake don't let any one 
 hear her going on like this. Get her to bed and to 
 sleep if you can." Then Belinda carried off the 
 sobbing Miranda to her room, where she administered 
 a scolding so sharp and unexpected that poor Mirrie 
 ceased to sob, and promised to do whatever she was 
 bid. 
 
 Dolly got her mother to bed at last, and sat by her 
 until she slept. Then she went back to the drawing- 
 room, but found it dark and empty, so she concluded 
 that they had all gone to bed. Being very weary and 
 very sad, she crept off to bed too, wondering why she 
 felt so faint and sick ; but as she had eaten nothing 
 since luncheon, I think the wonder would have been 
 if she had felt well. However, she soon fell asleep, 
 and had slept for about two hours when she was 
 roused by Belinda, who carried a lighted candle in her 
 hand, and lighted one for Dolly as she spoke. 
 
 " Get up, Dolly, you must help us." 
 
 " Why Linda ! I thought you had all gone to 
 bed!" 
 
 "So we did, but only to get rid of the servants. 
 Make haste now, and dress yourself. Come to Papa's 
 dressing-room." 
 
 Poor sleepy Dolly Jiurried on her clothes, and 
 followed her. They were all there, Fitz, Harcourt, 
 and even Miranda; and under Harcourt's direction 
 (he took the command at once, and they all obeyed 
 him), they packed, and selected, and searched the 
 house for articles of value. There was not much 
 valuable plate in the house, but what there was they
 
 144 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 packed up carefully ; also such ornaments and small 
 things as could be easily carried away. The girls' 
 handsome wardrobe, plentiful trinkets, and everything 
 belonging to their mother that was really valuable, 
 were all packed or laid ready for packing. 
 
 " Why, here 's Papa's watch," cried Dolly, perceiving 
 it on the dressing-table. " He must have forgotten it. 
 I '11 give it to Mamma to-morrow." 
 
 "Now off to bed," said Harcourt, "I begin to see 
 daylight through the chinks of the shutters. I shall 
 lock this room up. To-morrow night will finish our 
 work, and then we '11 be off. Dolly, wait here till I 
 get you a glass of wine, for you look as if you 
 wanted it. Now mind, you must not be ill. No 
 difference must be seen to-morrow in any of us. 
 Mirrie, if you go about with such a frightened face, I '11 
 do something desperate. Belinda is the only one of 
 you with an ounce of sense. But only let us get one 
 more night, and the creditors are very welcome to all 
 they can get." 
 
 "What a spirit you have, Harcourt," said Belinda, 
 admiringly. " Here, child, eat this biscuit. You did 
 not come down to dinner, I remember. Now, Dolly, 
 mind you must look just as usual to-morrow." 
 
 Dolly drank the w r ine and ate the biscuit, for the 
 child was faint from long fasting ; and then she went 
 to bed, and lay there thinking. "The creditors." 
 All in that house ought to be theirs ; all would fail to 
 pay the tenth part of what they owed. Oh, why had 
 she helped in packing ? Why had she been so dull 
 and silly, and what teas she to do now ? They would 
 never listen to her, and she would be dragged off to 
 San Francisco without even seeing Jem again. But
 
 HOW THE CRASH CAME. 145 
 
 that she would not allow ! Jem should know all, and 
 try if he could influence the others. And so Dolly 
 got up very early, and went off with much speed and 
 secrecy to the telegraph office, and sent a message to 
 Jem. 
 
 "From Dolly to James Dobhs, at Messrs. Sweet- 
 man & Cross, Broad Street, Manchester : ' Come to 
 me at once. I want you.' " 
 
 Then she went home, and appeared at breakfast ; 
 but after that she fell asleep on a sofa, and forgot her 
 troubles for several hours.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TWO WAYS OF BEGINNING THE WORLD. 
 
 AMES was at bis post, very busy, wbcn a 
 " buttony boy " entered tbe sbop witb a 
 yellow paper in bis band, and inquired 
 for " Mr. James Dobbs." Poor Jem ! be 
 guessed at once that the crash had come 
 and Dolly wanted him ! In a few mo- 
 nlents he was at the door of Mr. Sweet- 
 man's private room, with a very white face and 
 shaking hands. 
 
 " Mr. Sweetman, I have had a telegraph from my 
 sister; there is something wrong at home and she 
 wants me." 
 
 " Any one ill ? " inquired Mr. Sweetman. 
 " No at least I don't know, sir. She only tells 
 me to come." 
 
 " And you want leave? Of course, Mr. Dobbs, I 
 should not think of refusing leave to any of my people 
 under such circumstances, and you, of course though 
 I must say you have been most regular and pains- 
 taking yet of course I don't look upon you as just 
 one of the crowd. Your father's son the rich Mr. 
 Dobbs is not likely to continue behind a counter."
 
 TWO WAYS OF BEGINNING THE WORLD. 14? 
 
 "You are mistaken, sir. I have no intention of 
 giving up my situation." 
 
 "Now, now, Mr. Dobbs," said Mr. Sweetman, in 
 his most paternal tone, "let me advise you, bear 
 with a few plain words words against my own 
 interest, for you have given me great satisfaction, 
 and if you were really a poor man I should be keep- 
 ing an eye upon you, with a view to giving you a 
 better post, advancing you by degrees, satisfied that I 
 was securing a valuable assistant ; but " 
 
 " Will you really promote me, sir ? " cried Jem, 
 his eyes sparkling. " Mr. Sweetmau ! you do not 
 know how happy you have made me." 
 
 " Yes ; if you remain here. I shall soon be making 
 changes. Smith goes to the boot and shoe depart- 
 ment next month, and my choice of his successor 
 head of the trimming counter lies between you and 
 Perkins. If I give this to Perkins, I shall put you 
 into the counting-house. But my earnest advice to 
 you is, my dear young friend, is this : be reconciled 
 with your father if you have a chance. Of course 
 your sister thinks there is a chance ; I don't see 
 for what other reason she can summon you home in 
 such haste. Now don't throw it away, my dear boy." 
 
 " No, sir," said James, hastily, his mind still full 
 of his promised rise ; " but I don't want to injure 
 Perkins but may I reckon on the situation ?" 
 
 " You wish to be able to tell your parents that you 
 have made your way here ? Very natural, very praise- 
 worthy. Yes, you may say that you are pretty sure 
 of it. Good-bye, and don't forget my advice." 
 
 Now the heads of departments received a much 
 better salary than the assistants, and so Jem felt 
 
 K2
 
 148 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 that be would be able to do sometbing towards sup- 
 porting bis motber. And if Fitz and tbe rest 
 undertook tbat, migbt not tbe sweet old vision be 
 realised, and Dolly keep bouse for bim in good 
 earnest? He ran to bis lodgings, packed a small 
 carpet bag, and went off to tbe station. In tbe street 
 be met Mr. Handcock, and was recalled to a sense of 
 wbat probably lay before bim by bis friend's salutation. 
 
 " Whither away, Jem? Wbat piece of good for- 
 tune has befallen you that you look so bright and 
 cheery? " 
 
 " Do I indeed ? Then I 'm a selfish beast, tbat 's 
 all ! " 
 
 "Are you, old fellow? Do you know I shouldn't 
 have found you out ?" 
 
 "Well, but I must be, for they are all in great 
 trouble at home, and yet, because Mr. Sweetman 
 praised me to-day and promised to give me a rise, I 
 must go about grinning ! " 
 
 " Wbat is tbe trouble, Dobbs ? Illness ? " 
 
 " I think not. I know nothing but tbat Dolly 
 sent for me. When I come back Ob ! Mr. Hand- 
 cock, you don't know how often I have longed to tell 
 you all about everything, that you might say whether 
 I did right or wrong ! But when I come back I may 
 be able to speak. I have no right to do so as things 
 stand now." 
 
 They had both been walking towards tbe station 
 all this time, and had now reached it. 
 
 " Good-bye, Jem. You '11 let me know when you 
 come back?" 
 
 " Yes. And oh ! tell me, wbat news from France ? 
 How is Miss Barlow."
 
 TWO WAYS OF BEGINNING THE WORLD. 149 
 
 "Better, and they think of coming home; but I 
 want them to wait. I don't helieve the east wind is 
 gone yet, I feel it myself, and of course she would 
 feel it far more." 
 
 Jem, who never yet had had reason to know when 
 the wind blew east and when west, stared a little. 
 
 " You feel it?" he said. "Why surely, sir, you 
 are quite strong and healthy?" 
 
 " very strong enough. But I know when the 
 wind is in the east, my friend. Hullo ! you 'd 
 better run, I see a fellow beginning to close the 
 doors." 
 
 Jem fled at speed, and darted into a third-class 
 carriage just in time, quite forgetting to procure a 
 ticket. Nor did he remember this until, in the 
 familiar station at Middlemore, he was asked for it, 
 and had a great piece of work with the ticket-taker, 
 explaining, and paying for his journey. 
 
 " Nothing is known yet," he thought. "I should 
 know it if they were looking queerly at me." 
 
 He walked on, and was soon at Ballydobbs House. 
 The door was opened by one of the gorgeous men, 
 and all looked as usual. Jem went upstairs, and in 
 the drawing-room he found his two elder sisters, with 
 their bright coloured embroidery in their hands, but 
 with anxious faces as they looked up to see who their 
 visitor was. Belinda whispered to her sister, " It 's 
 James, and he knows nothing, remember." Then 
 she said, aloud, " You here, James ! And pray what 
 brings you home ? " 
 
 " Where is . How is my mother, and where 's 
 
 Dolly?" 
 
 " I never undertake to answer for Dolly ! She 's
 
 150 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 making the beds perhaps, or digging potatoes ! She 
 has strange tastes." 
 
 But though Linda tossed her head in the old way, 
 and Mirrie got up a feehle titter at her sister's wit, 
 Jem knew' that they were both ill at ease. 
 
 Another knock at the door was followed by the 
 entrance of Fitz. 
 
 " What, Jem ! " he cried ; " what good wind blew 
 you this way ? I was going to ask Dolly how I was to 
 get at you." 
 
 " You wanted me, then ? " said James. 
 
 " Yes ; we must all help all sink or swim together. 
 You need not look so black at me, Linda. Jem knows 
 more than, we do at least he has known it longer." 
 
 Harcourt came in while Fitz was speaking. " Eh, 
 Jem ! glad to see you. Well, Fitz, have you found 
 anything ? " 
 
 " Nothing but a fourpenny piece on the floor ! 
 Not so much as a paper left, nor a book. The 
 governor has made away with them all." 
 
 " Has he ? " said James, " for I know that he was 
 altering preparing books to be inspected." 
 
 " That must have been while he still hoped to re- 
 place the money and keep afloat. I suppose the 
 fact is, he destroyed everything when he gave up, 
 and sent the remains of the money to us." 
 
 " Tell me exactly what has happened, Fitz ; I know 
 nothing." 
 
 Fitz explained ; and then Harcourt began, and told 
 him briefly what they intended to do, concluding 
 with, "We mean to get away to-morrow. I have 
 contrived so that we shall get a letter in the morn- 
 ing summoning us to London, to my father ; we '11
 
 TWO WAYS OF BEGINNING THE WORLD. 151 
 
 set cff as if to go there, leave the train at Manchester 
 and get to Liverpool ; there 's a boat that will just 
 suit us if we have any luck." 
 
 "But you can he so easily traced and brought 
 back," said James. 
 
 "It won't be worth any one's while to do that. 
 My father won't be with us, and that is our safety. 
 He has made himself scarce, and having secured two 
 days' start, they '11 be clever if they catch him." 
 
 " But if you carry off what remains of that money," 
 urged James. 
 
 "We're not going to tell them that, stupid ! My 
 father says in his letter that he has managed so that 
 it can never be traced." 
 
 "But you'll know yourself that it is stolen 
 money," James said, sturdily, "and you'll never get 
 clever fellows as I know you both are you'll never 
 get on if you begin in this way." 
 
 "Jem, you're a good creature, but don't prose," 
 said Fitz. " I know what you are going to say as well 
 as if you 'd said it ; but don't say it, there 'B a good 
 fellow. We have my mother and the girls to sup- 
 port, our own fortune to make, and all this confounded 
 money to replace, and I'm not going to fool away 
 our only chance for any of your goody notions." 
 
 " Surely my mother does not -understand what you 
 are doing ? " 
 
 " My dear fellow, I doubt if she understands any- 
 thing ! She does nothing but moan and cry." 
 
 " It is mostly about you, Fitz," said Belinda, " and 
 it does seem a pity that you must go, for, after all, 
 Lucy might " 
 
 " Oh, hold your tongue," Fitz answered, sharply.
 
 152 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 "It is all over between Lucy and me. She never 
 quite forgave me, and we quarrelled finally some 
 days ago. I was only lingering in town because 
 home, with this hanging over us, was too dismal." 
 
 While he was speaking the door opened slowly, 
 and poor Mrs. Dobbs, supported by Dolly, came in. 
 Such a feeble, washed-out looking creature as she 
 was ! Jem's kind heart ached with pity. Dolly 
 placed her carefully in her chair, and then rushed to 
 Jem and hugged him. Mrs. Dobbs did not even 
 desire her to be less demonstrative and more genteel, 
 so low had her spirits sunk ! 
 
 " Is that James ? " she asked querulously. " "Well, 
 James, I suppose you know what has happened ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mother, and I came to see what I could do 
 to help." 
 
 " No one can help," moaned the poor woman ; " it's 
 all over. I shall never hold up my head again." 
 
 " Mamma ! " exclaimed Fitz, " you must have a 
 little patience. Wait and see how soon Harcourt 
 and I and my father when he joins us will make a 
 fine fortune. We have a tolerable sum to start us ; 
 this Mr. Murray will put us up to a tiling or two, and 
 we shall soon be richer than ever. San Francisco 's 
 the place. for making a fortune." 
 
 " But money won't give me back the society, the 
 the everything ! that I 'm used to. I shall always 
 think it was very cruel of Tom to run such a risk." 
 
 "Mother," said James, earnestly, "listen to me 
 for five minutes. What Fitz wants you to do is not 
 honest, Mother. Do, I beg of you, give up every- 
 thing to the creditors it is little enough, I fear 
 and "
 
 TWO WAYS OF BEGINNING THE WORLD. 153 
 
 "And go to the workhouse," finished Harcourt. 
 
 " No ! I can give my mother a home, though a 
 very poor one a safe, honest shelter and then let 
 us all work hard until we can support the girls too ; 
 you '11 get plenty to do, for every one will think well 
 of you for giving up this money, and be ready to help 
 you. It is hard on the girls, but better than " 
 
 "Borrowing this money; for of course we shall 
 repay it, and so arriving at the same end by a shorter 
 road. Don't listen to him, Mamma, he 's raving." 
 
 " Indeed I shall not listen to him," said Mrs. Dobbs, 
 with more animation than she had yet displayed. 
 " Your father sent me the money, and the idea that I 
 ought to give it up ! And surely my clothes and jewels 
 are my own. I 'm sure, when I think of all I 'm losing, 
 one would say that a wild beast would have more 
 feeling than to hint that I have no right to what is 
 left ! Of course the boys will make a fortune they 
 are so clever and well educated that they are sure to 
 do well. Don't say another word, James you always 
 were a fool." 
 
 Poor Jem tried hard to explain that he really could 
 support his mother that he had been promised a 
 better situation, and had been praised by his em- 
 ployer. No one would listen to him except Dolly, 
 and she, when the noise of many voices had died 
 away, said, " Mamma, if you wanted me to work for 
 you I would do it with all my heart as long as God 
 gives me strength and health ; but as things are, I 
 will not go to America. I'll stay with James and 
 get employment too." 
 
 Then, indeed, was Mrs. Dobbs aggrieved ; she 
 wept and scolded. But Harcourt and Linda, who were
 
 154 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 the leading spirits among them, soon persuaded the 
 rest that Dolly had hetter stay, as there would be one 
 less to pay passage-money and to he supported, and 
 when she was weary of her ridiculous whim, she could 
 come out to them. So the matter ended in a general 
 declaration that if these two declined to make common 
 cause with their family, the said family would like to 
 be rid of them as soon as possible. Though they 
 would not listen to a word from either of them, yet 
 their disapproving faces nay, their very presence 
 was a reproach to the rest ; and finally Dolly's clothes 
 were packed up hastily, and, her mother having 
 given her five pounds (Dolly longed to refuse it, but 
 was really afraid to do so), the brother and sister 
 went off together, by a late train, to begin life for 
 themselves and struggle on as best they could. Dolly 
 cried over the parting until she had no eyes left worth 
 mentioning, and her face was scarlet and swollen ; 
 but of those she left behind, Mirrie and Linda were 
 really glad to be freed from her presence, and Har- 
 court rejoiced that there was one less to share the 
 spoils. Mrs. Dobbs and Fitz were sorry she, because 
 Dolly was her only tender nurse when she was ill ; 
 Fitz because he was really fond of her, in his lazy way. 
 By the time the travellers reached Jem's lodgings 
 Dolly was fit for nothing but to go to bed as fast as 
 possible, for her head ached terribly and she felt 
 shaken all over. Next day poor Dolly was very ill, 
 and a slight nervous fever kept her in bed in the 
 little attic opposite his for several days. On the first 
 day of her illness, James went to Mr. Sweetman, and 
 having told him that his sister had come to stay with 
 him, and was not well, he asked if he might remain
 
 TWO WAYS OF BEGINNING THE WORLD. 155 
 
 with her that day at least. Mr. Sweetrnan took it 
 for granted that Jern was now received into his 
 father's favour, as his sister was to pay him a visit ; 
 and so, although a little surprised at his return to 
 the shop, he gave him the wished-for leave with great 
 urbanity, and desired him on no account to leave his 
 sister until she was quite recovered. Then he spoke 
 again of the promotion he had promised, and desired 
 Jem to consider whether he would not prefer to go 
 into the counting-house ; and the master of the 
 establishment went about with a complacent smile on 
 his face, thinking of the good sum of money which 
 the rich Mr. Dobbs would invest in the business for 
 his son, when the time came for offering him a junior 
 partnership ! 
 
 James, though not clever, had fortunately too 
 much sense to spend money before he had it in his 
 pocket, so he~did not even take a third room as a 
 sitting-room, although Mrs. Eeid urged him to do so, 
 promising to wait " any time " for the rent. When 
 Dolly, with white cheeks and very big eyes, was yet 
 well enough to leave her room, he carried her over to 
 his, which he had dusted and beautified according to 
 his lights for her reception. 
 
 "Well, Dolly, darling, I'm glad to see you look a 
 little more like yourself." 
 
 " And I 'm hungry, Jem, actually hungry. I be- 
 gan to think I never meant to eat again." 
 
 " Mrs. Keid is cooking a chop for you. She says 
 she 's a good cook," Jem remarked, doubtfully. " If 
 you only eat one chop in ten days, Dolly, you won't 
 cost me much." 
 
 " I shan't cost you anything after the first. I
 
 156 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 mean to get work to do. I could teach little children 
 say, under nine years old. Or I could make 
 dresses I can work very nicely. You 've not heard 
 from Fitz or Mamma, have you ? " 
 
 "No; they won't write for some time, I am sure. 
 I have not heard anything yet, for I could not leave 
 you, but it must be in all the papers by this time. 
 But, Dolly, any work you undertake will only be for a 
 time, I hope. I am promised a better situation, and 
 when I can make you comfortable I shan't let you 
 work except, of course, to keep our house nice, 
 and you shall cook my dinner when you 're good." 
 
 " You are too condescending, sir ; of course all 
 that will be my first business, Jem. But I should 
 like to earn a little money too. For indeed, Jem, I 
 know the others won't get on. I know they are 
 clever, but they are not steady. And beginning as 
 they do, by such a piece of dishonesty ! " 
 
 " They mean to pay that back," James said hastily. 
 " Don't let us judge them, Dolly ; we need not have 
 anything to say to it if we think it wrong, but their 
 opinion may be different. After all, you know, my 
 father gave them the money." 
 
 " Yes, but how did he get it ? " said Dolly, 
 quickly. James made no answer. 
 
 "Jem, I know you are right," the girl said, after a 
 pause. " I ought not to have said that. But that 
 is why I want to earn money if I can. Mamma is 
 really unable to work, and she may have to come to 
 us for help." 
 
 " I believe you are right, We '11 see about it when 
 you are quite strong again."
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 JEM'S PROMOTION. 
 
 EXT day Dolly was so well that James 
 only waited to see her eat a good break- 
 fast, and then left her in Mrs. Reid's care 
 and set forth for Mr. Sweetman's shop. 
 
 When he arrived there the young men 
 were already arranging the trimming coun- 
 ter, and he observed that Smith was absent, and that 
 Perkins was evidently in command. There was a 
 new young man in the place where Jem had always 
 been posted. 
 
 " Good morning, Perkins," said James. " Where is 
 Mr. Smith ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Perkins, looking round at him, 
 "you 've come back, have you? Well, I 'm sure! 
 some people have no sense of decency. Mr. Smith '? 
 He 's gone to the boot and shoe department, and I 'm 
 head here." 
 
 James changed colour, but remembered that Mr. 
 Sweetman had seemed to think he had better go into 
 the counting-house, and no doubt he had so arranged 
 it. Perkins was watching him and grinning mali- 
 ciouslv.
 
 158 MRS. DOBBS' DULL. BOY. 
 
 "Mr. Sweetman desired me to tell you, if you ever 
 came here again, to go up to him at once." 
 
 " Very well," said James, and turned to go. " Now," 
 thought he, " Perkins fancies I 'm in disgrace for 
 having been absent, and how pleased he seems ! I 
 think he 's very ill-natured ; but he '11 be ashamed of 
 himself when he finds that I had leave, and that I 'm 
 to get a better situation." 
 
 So poor Simplicity walked upstairs and knocked at 
 the door of Mr. Sweetman's room. 
 
 " Come in," cried that gentleman, and in he went. 
 Mr. Sweetman was reading the newspaper, lying very 
 much at his ease in a great cushioned chair. But 
 when he saw who it was he jumped up, and placed 
 himself with his back against the chimney-piece, from 
 which post he stared hard at poor Jem. And Jem 
 stared at him in no small wonder, so angry and trucu- 
 lent was his countenance, quite different from the 
 somewhat oily blandness of his usual expression. 
 
 " So you 've come here again ! " cried Mr. Sweetmau 
 at last, just as Mr. Perkins had said it, only more 
 wrathfully. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said James, collecting himself. "My 
 sister is nearly well now, and I can very well leave 
 her, for my landlady is so kind, and " 
 
 " Don't bother me with your sisters and your land- 
 ladies, sir. I did think that you had had the decency 
 to take yourself off and save me the trouble of turning 
 you out. I know the truth now, of course. Yes," 
 seeing James glance at the newspaper, "it is in all 
 the papers ; it 's a regular nine days' wonder. Your 
 father seems to have swindled every one he had deal- 
 ings with, and you are worthy to be his son. You 've
 
 JEM'S PROMOTION. 159 
 
 begun well ! I never was so taken in before in all 
 my life." 
 
 " Mr. Sweetman, what can you mean? You can't 
 suspect that I have cheated you ? " 
 
 "That's good that's really very good," sneered 
 Mr. Sweetman. "Injured innocence and virtuous 
 indignation ! Suspect ! that 's not the word, sir. I 
 took you into my employment on the strength of a 
 letter from your precious father, the contents of which 
 no doubt you know as well as I do ; and now I find 
 instead of being a rich man, able to make it worth my 
 while to do so, he 's a bankrupt and a swindler. I 
 hope they '11 catch him I hope with all my heart I 
 may seo him picking oakum yet ! " 
 
 "A letter from my father, sir ! I never knew he 
 had written to you." 
 
 " Of course not. All innocence again. I owe you 
 something, don't I ? " 
 
 "My quarter is up, sir. But, Mr. Sweetman, I 
 hope you 're not in earnest. I have done my very 
 best, and only the last time I saw you, you spoke of 
 promoting me, and said you were satisfied with me. 
 I have done nothing to deserve your anger, for I did 
 not know anything about this letter from my father." 
 
 " I daresay you have done your best, but I simply 
 took you to oblige your father, and now I don't choose 
 to have your father's son in the establishment. You 
 are a dull fellow, and you never showed it more clearly 
 than when you took all I said in good earnest." 
 
 " Then," said James sadly, "you were not in ear- 
 nest ? " 
 
 Mr. Sweetman laughed contemptuously. 
 
 "I was so far in earnest that if your father had paid
 
 160 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 down a good sum of money, I was prepared to make 
 a junior partner of you in due time. But I can get 
 twenty better salesmen than you if I want them ; and 
 your name 's enough. Who is going to trust a son 
 of Thomas Dobbs ? No respectable place of business 
 will give you employment. A quarter, did you say ? 
 Ay, you are right. Here 's your money now go 
 about your business." 
 
 James took the money in silence. Gentle as he 
 was, he yet felt keen indignation at the undeserved 
 insolence of his employer. But Dolly ! Oh, for little 
 Dolly's sake, he must silence self, and make one 
 effort more. 
 
 " Mr. Sweetman," he said in a low voice, "do let 
 me say a few words. Sir, I left home just because I 
 wanted to earn honest bread ; and I 'm not alone 
 now. The rest are gone abroad, but, trusting to 
 your promises, I thought I could support my sister, 
 and she stayed with me. If you dismiss me, what 
 can I do for her ? I beg of you, sir, to let me remain : 
 of course I know you won't promote me, but let me 
 stay as I was." 
 
 "How could I ask the other young gentlemen to 
 associate with you?" cried the high-minded Sweet- 
 man. " You 'd better follow the rest of your family. 
 It is strongly suspected that they have feathered their 
 nest pretty well ; they did not go off empty-handed." 
 He looked searchingly at James as he spoke, and 
 the poor fellow blushed crimson. 
 
 "As you know very well, I perceive," he went on. 
 " After that, young gentleman, I think I need have 
 no fears for you. Good morning, Mr. Dobbs." 
 James looked at the hard, unsympathising face,
 
 JEM'S PROMOTION. 161 
 
 and felt that prayers were in vain. He turned to go ; 
 but at the door he paused. 
 
 " Will you kindly give me a written character, Mr. 
 Sweetmau ? " 
 
 " Certainly not, sir. You got into my employment 
 on false pretences, and as soon as I find you out, I 
 dismiss you. I really wonder at your cool impertinence 
 in making such a request." 
 
 " But I have a right to demand a character, sir," 
 James said steadily, " and I do demand it. You have 
 no right to refuse it." 
 
 Mr. Sweetman knew very well that he had now 
 gone beyond what he had a legal right to do, so, 
 although very angry, he sat down and wrote as James 
 desired him; but the poor fellow felt that he had 
 gained very little when he read the short, bald state- 
 ment of the time he had been in the shop, and that 
 he had behaved soberly and honestly in the discharge 
 of his duties, but no reason was given for his dis- 
 missal. However, there was no use in complaining, 
 so he took the paper and went out of the room, saying 
 good-bye as he closed the door. There were hardly 
 any customers in the shop at that early hour, and a 
 crowd of the young men had gathered to see him go 
 by, the wretched history which filled the papers 
 giving them the keenest desire to have a look at poor 
 Jem. Owing to his behaviour about the sale of the 
 damaged goods he was not a favourite, and many 
 joined Perkins in his ill-natured laugh at the dejected 
 look he wore. But he was no coward, if he was no 
 genius ; and lifting his head suddenly he walked up 
 to the biggest and burliest of the laughers, and said 
 quietly
 
 1C2 MRS. DOBBfci' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Did you speak to me, Thompson ? " 
 
 " No, I didn't," said Thompson somewhat hastily ; 
 " I didn't, 'pon my honour." 
 
 " Good morning," said James, and walked out with 
 the honours of war, leaving the young gentlemen 
 somewhat disconcerted. 
 
 "I really thought he was going to hit me," whis- 
 pered Thompson ; and then, Jem's broad shoulders 
 and long, strong arms being out of sight, Thompson 
 squaring up his portly person said, " Two can play at 
 that game, I can tell him." 
 
 " Only you didn't tell him," said Perkins. Then 
 they discussed Jem, his manners, appearance, capa- 
 city, &c., and determined nem. con. that he was plain, 
 awkward, stupid, and a good riddance ! 
 
 Jem, meantime, bought a newspaper, and sat down 
 in the shop to read it that he might know the worst 
 that was said. When he had read it he muttered, 
 "I can hardly blame Mr. Sweetman. "Why should 
 he think me any better than the rest ? He has only 
 my own word for it. Every one will turn against me 
 now. I have been deceiving them all, though I 
 couldn't help it. I have been getting people to bo 
 kind on false pretences, and now every one will know 
 all this. Dolly, Dolly ! how am I to tell you what 
 has happened ? " 
 
 Suddenly a remembrance of Thompson's frightened 
 face came into his head, and made him laugh. " Yet 
 I ought to be ashamed of myself ! "What right had I 
 to bully him, and put myself in a passion ? It was 
 very wrong, and I must try to get my temper better 
 under command. Well, Dolly would be surprised if 
 1 went home now, so I '11 begin to look for a situa-
 
 JEM'S PROMOTION. 163 
 
 tion at once. I cannot bear to tell her I 've lost this 
 until I 've got another." 
 
 So he did not go home until quite late, and did 
 not tell Dolly of his misfortune. She saw that he 
 was sad, but believed that it was because he had been 
 reading the paper he brought home, a perusal of which 
 did not raise her spirits either. 
 
 James went again next day and patiently applied 
 at every place where a clerk, salesman, or accountant 
 was required. Many said at once that they wanted a 
 person of more experience ; and the few who desired 
 him to call again naturally went to Mr. Sweetman to 
 make inquiries, and refused to see him when he went 
 back at the appointed time. A week passed thus, 
 and Dolly, who was getting quite strong again, began 
 to be uneasy at his sad and anxious face. She deter- 
 mined to find out what was wrong ; so when tea was 
 over that evening she brought out her needlework. 
 
 " Jem, we won't take a walk to-night, because I 
 want a good, serious talk with you. Do you know, 
 Jem, you are getting quite thin and old-looking ? 
 There 's a real wrinkle coming in your forehead, and 
 your eyes look so anxious, and don't be vexed, dear, 
 but I think I have guessed why." 
 
 Jem started, and ejaculated, " Have you ? I mean 
 no, you are quite mistaken." 
 
 Dolly laughed as she laid down her work and went 
 round the table to kiss him. 
 
 " Oh, you dear old Jem, you 're not good at keeping 
 secrets. Yes, dear, I've guessed. I think Mr. 
 Sweetman has refused to give you the promotion he 
 promised you, because of all this about poor Papa ; 
 and you think that I shall mind the hard life that you 
 L 2
 
 104 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 never complained of for yourself, and so you look as 
 mournful as anything ! " 
 
 Here she paused to look inquiringly at him, but 
 .Inn. knowing that in silence lay his only chance of 
 keeping his secret, held his tongue persistently. 
 
 " But I shan't mind it, dear Jem. I won't say that 
 it is pleasant, hut it is pleasanter than living in 
 luxury and idleness, knowing all the time what I 
 knew. And you '11 live it down, Jem, and do well 
 yet. And now this is the serious part of my talk 
 I must get work to do, and not he a burden upon you 
 any more." 
 
 "You're no burden. If I had heaps of money I 
 should not grudge it to you." 
 
 " I know that very well ; but you see you haven't 
 heaps of money. So I got Mrs. Reid to lend me a 
 paper to-day, and I copied some advertisements. 
 Look here : a lady wants a visiting governess for two 
 little girls aged seven and five. She must teach 
 French and music and English : of course I could do 
 that, and I '11 go to-morrow and see the lady." 
 
 "You'll be asked for a reference the very first 
 thing." 
 
 " Well, wouldn't Mr. Sweetman, What ! do you 
 think he would refuse ? " 
 
 " I know he would, dear." 
 
 " Jem, is he very cross with you ? I 'm afraid you 
 have a good deal to bear. I never fancied that people 
 could be so unjust. Surely it has not been your 
 doing." 
 
 " No, but you know how bad it all is ; and what I 
 say to myself is, that he had only my own word for it 
 that I wouldn't do the same. You see, it is suspected
 
 JEM'S PROMOTION. 165 
 
 that my mother and the rest carried off money, and 
 very likely Mr. Sweetmau thinks that we have a share 
 of the plunder. I don't wonder so much at him." 
 
 " Then I do ! " said Dolly, hotly. " All these 
 months you 've been with him, he might know you hy 
 this time. And so you don't think he would let me 
 refer to him ? " 
 
 " He wouldn't have anything to say to you." 
 
 " Not if I came to the shop and asked him myself ? " 
 said Dolly, mindful of Mr. Sweetman's politeness the 
 only time she had seen him. 
 
 " Don't don't come to the shop, whatever you do ; 
 he might be rude to you. He can be very different 
 from what he was the day you were there." 
 
 " But there must be some one else. Mr. Handcock, 
 Jem ! " 
 
 " What can he say, Dolly, dear ? Only that he 
 knows me, and indeed hardly that, for I never told 
 him anything about myself. I have not seen him 
 since you came to me either. When I 've got work 
 I'll go, but I can't spare time now." 
 
 " When you 've got work ! " exclaimed Dolly, open- 
 ing her eyes very wide. Jem coloured furiously and 
 stared fixedly out of the window, trying, but without 
 the least success, to look as usual. 
 
 " Jem, is it as bad as that ? Did he really send 
 you away ? And you 've been keeping it secret instead 
 of letting me try to comfort you ! " 
 
 Suddenly Jem's head went down on the table, and 
 he burst into such a fit of sobbing that it was plain he 
 needed comfort sorely. And it was then he first 
 knew what a true woman, strong in a woman's best 
 and only real strength, little kitten-like Dolly was
 
 166 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 becoming. She knelt beside him, drew his head to 
 her shoulder, looked into his eyes with her clear soft 
 gaze, and said, tenderly 
 
 " Our Heavenly Father knoweth that we have need 
 of these things. I know it 's all for me, Jem. My 
 own good Jem ! I wish I could talk like dear 
 Granny to comfort you, but I can't, I can only tell 
 you that I 'm not a bit frightened, and that I 'm sure 
 God will help us." 
 
 " Dolly, I was rash when I kept you here ! I 
 knew it would be in a poor way, but this means actual 
 want." 
 
 "What means actual want?" she asked with a 
 smile. " "We have had a good meal : we have beds to 
 sleep in : we don't owe any one anything, and we have 
 some money left ! To-morrow has not come, and when 
 it does, it will bring help." 
 
 " What help ? " he said, raising his head. 
 
 " That 's right, Jem, sit up and take me on your 
 knee; I'm glad I'm not too big to sit on your knee. 
 Am I too heavy, dear ? Oh, you need not laugh, I 'm 
 bigger than I look," a remark which certainly did 
 honour to her Irish ancestors, Fitzgerald or other- 
 wise. " Now tell me all, dear, and we '11 make our 
 plans." 
 
 James related all his adventures, dwelling sadly on 
 his efforts to get employment. 
 
 "How much money have you, Jem?" said she, 
 when he concluded. 
 
 " There it is very little," he answered. 
 
 "I have four pounds, you know. Well, now, we 
 have enough to live for some days, and we must get 
 employment before it is gone. Jem, the very first
 
 JEil's PROMOTION. 167 
 
 thing you do to-morrow, go to Mr. Handcock and to 
 that nice old Mr. Barlow." 
 
 "What for? They'll think I want to borrow 
 money again ! " 
 
 "You can tell them at once that you have enough 
 for the present. But they will get you a place." 
 
 " Doll} 7 , I don't expect it. They will know now, or 
 I must tell them, who I am. They '11 think I am like 
 the rest." 
 
 " Why, Jem, how can they ? Have you forgotten 
 about the diamonds ? They must know that you are 
 honest, for you proved it then." 
 
 " But don't you think it would be mean to remind 
 them of that as if I was proud of having been com- 
 monly honest ? " 
 
 " Jem, Jem ! who would have suspected you of 
 such a notion ? Now the real way to look at it is 
 that all this was brought about just that you might 
 have friends when you really wanted them. Things 
 don't happen by chance. Didn't you say to Fitz the 
 other day that if they gave up the money people 
 would esteem them, and that friends were better than 
 money ? You won't have to remind them of it ; they '11 
 remember it and help you I'm sure they will." 
 
 " When I tell them I 'm the son of the man the 
 police are searching the whole world for ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I feel they will. You just try now. And 
 get them to find a place for me too, for I want to be 
 at work. We have to save money, you know." 
 
 The idea of saving money seemed so very absurd to 
 poor Jem at that particular moment, that in spite of 
 his fears and sorrows he laughed heartily. 
 
 " Save money ! " cried Dolly, jumping off his knee
 
 168 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 and giving him a little shake with her hands on his 
 shoulders. " We won't be content with that ! We '11 
 make fortunes, mind now, 1 prophecy that. We '11 be 
 rich and happy, and have a pretty house and garden, 
 and all sorts of nice things, if you '11 only go to Mr. 
 Handcock early to-morrow ! Tell him your story 
 from the very beginning. Tell him we 11 work at 
 anything, we don't care to be genteel ; we 've had 
 enough of that to last our lives, and we 've made a 
 vow against it : we really want to earn our bread 
 honestly. And you '11 see that he '11 get you a situation, 
 and perhaps one for me, too. Now, my dear old boy, 
 I 'm going to bed, and so are you, for you look tired. 
 To-morrow you must go out and seek your fortune." 
 " Dolly ! I wish I had your hopes." 
 " I wish you had, dear, because you 'd be happier ; 
 but whether you have or not won't change facts, and 
 you '11 see to-morrow ! Good-night, dear Jem." 
 
 And having uttered this deep truth, without know- 
 ing what a deep truth it was, she kissed him brightly 
 and went off to her little room, turning at the door to 
 give him a last smile. Jem went to bed feeling 
 happier than he had done for many days, and Dolly 
 found him fast asleep when, in about an hour, she 
 peeped in to see that he was not sitting up fretting. 
 Then she said her prayers and went to bed, with a 
 quiet confidence that a way out of their troubles would 
 be opened to them.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 JEM S SECOND SITUATION. 
 
 iHILE the brother and sister ate their 
 very frugal breakfast next morning, 
 Dolly chatted brightly about anything 
 and everything, rather than their some- 
 what desolate condition. But when 
 breakfast was over she began bustling 
 about to make Jem " smart and tidy." 
 She brushed his coat, she smoothed his hat, she 
 mended his gloves, tied his neckerchief, and finally 
 kissed him, and bid him go off with a good courage 
 and tell Mr. Haudcock his whole story why he left 
 home, and all. 
 
 'Xow don't look miserable, darling! take my 
 word for it, we shall get work in time." 
 
 " But I've been trying for eight days, Dolly." 
 "Yes; but you didn't try in the right way, Mr. 
 Jem. To think of your having such a friend as 
 Mr. Haudcock and never asking him to help you ! 
 What have you been thinking of? " 
 
 " Well, you know, they always said I was very 
 dull." 
 
 "But you're not not a bit of it- You don't 
 jump to conclusions, that 's all. That 's right,
 
 170 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 laugh now kiss me and be off. Shall I throw an 
 old shoe after you for luck ? " 
 
 James went, but oh, how slowly ! Even now he 
 did not like the idea of applying to Mr. Handcock for 
 help. Soon, however, he found himself at the door 
 of his friend's lodgings. The servant said that Mr. 
 Handcock was at home, and would be in his sitting- 
 room in a few minutes, so Jem sat down to wait for 
 him. His courage, which had never been high, died 
 quite away during the ten minutes he sat there alone, 
 staring blankly at a pretty water-colour sketch which 
 occupied a carved stand on the table, not one line of 
 which did he really see. Here was Mr. Handcock ; 
 now in five minutes he would know whether all the 
 friends he had hoped were his were Sweetmans ! 
 Yet when he stood up and looked at the curate, his 
 first thought was not for himself. 
 
 " Mr. Handcock, have you been ill ? you look 
 so very bad." 
 
 " Don't be personal, young man," cried the cheery 
 voice. " Yes, I have been ill. You laughed at me 
 for saying I felt the east wind do you remember ? 
 But, in spite of your amusement, I caught cold that 
 day and have had a bad little time of it. And not 
 once have you come near me ! " he went on, looking 
 keenly into Jem's face through his spectacles. " But 
 perhaps you only came back to-day ? " 
 
 " No, I came back the same day," James answered, 
 hurriedly. " But have you had a doctor ? You ought, 
 I 'm sure." 
 
 " A doctor ! Bless you, I 've had two ! If I had 
 died it would have been like the people in the old 
 Scotch song ' no for want o' recipe, of doctor, and of
 
 JEM'S SECOND SITUATION. 171 
 
 fee.' I've been duly mustard poulticed, leeclied, 
 dosed, stethoscoped, and coddled. And I 'm nearly 
 all right again now. But, Jem, I have been anxious 
 about you, and your face tells me not without 
 cause." 
 
 " Does it ? " said Jem. " But I 'm quite well, sir ; 
 Dolly has been ill." 
 
 " And you 've been anxious. Is she all right 
 again ? " 
 
 " Very nearly. She is here with me." 
 
 " Here ! " cried Mr. Handcock ; " and you 've let me 
 keep her on the stairs all this time ? " 
 
 " Not here, but she 's at my lodgings, I mean." 
 
 Mr. Handcock sat down in an easy-chair a new 
 addition to his furniture and looked up questioningly 
 at James, who was so exceedingly nervous that it was 
 impossible not to notice it. 
 
 " James Dobbs," said he, " you 've something on 
 your mind. Found any more diamonds ? " 
 
 " No, I have lost my situation." 
 
 " Have you ? Tell me how it happened, for it was 
 not your fault I am sure, Jem." 
 
 " Mr. Handcock, oh, if I could only tell you and 
 get it over ! Do you remember that day at the sta- 
 tion I said ' 
 
 " That when you carne back you might be able to 
 consult me about something, which you could not do 
 until you could speak plainly about your reasons for 
 being here alone and friendless. Yes, I remember. 
 And now, if I'm all wrong you must forgive me, 
 Jem ; if I 'm right, I 'm saving you some embarrass- 
 ment. When I saw in the paper all that business 
 about M>\ Dobbs of Middlemore, I fancied, your
 
 172 AIRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 name being Dobbs, that perhaps I had a key to your 
 mystery." 
 
 " Sir, I am his son." 
 
 And Jem looked anxiously in the keen young face ; 
 but he was not left a moment in doubt. Mr. Hand- 
 cock jumped up as alertly as if he had never been ill 
 in his life, grasped Jem's hand warmly, and said 
 
 " I guessed it ! My dear old fellow, what a time 
 you 've been going through. And did that oily party, 
 Mr. Sweetman, dismiss you on this plea ? " 
 
 " Yes. It seems that my father, meaning to do me 
 a service, had written to him about me. Mr. Sweet- 
 man thought he would pay money to put me into the 
 firm after a while. Then, when I got home that day, 
 I found my father gone, and I must tell it, though it 
 seems unkind, the rest preparing to leave England 
 with what they could get together. They wanted me 
 to go, and I tried to persuade them to stay and give 
 up everything to the creditors. Dolly agreed with 
 me, and she wished to stay with me. I thought I 
 could support her, as I was promised a better situa- 
 tion ; then the poor little thing was ill, and before I 
 could go back to the shop Mr. Sweetman knew all 
 about it, and he said I was stupid and had used him 
 ill, and dismissed me." 
 
 "He's a fool for his pains. It is a pity when a 
 man is well and honestly served and does not know 
 it." 
 
 " I 've been trying ever since to get a place, but he 
 won't say a word in my favour, and so that is against 
 me." 
 
 " My dear fellow, don't worry yourself about that. 
 I '11 see Mr. Barlow about it, because he knows you ;
 
 JEM'S SECOND SITUATION. 173 
 
 but if he can't manage, my eldest brother is the head 
 of ' Handcock & Haughtou,' the great brewery, you 
 know, and I '11 make him employ you." 
 
 Poor Jem ! he had been much tried, and had borne 
 himself manfully before the enemy, but the ready 
 kindness made a girl of him, and he sat down and 
 covered his face with his hands. Mr. Handcock sat 
 quietly in his big chair and looked quizzically at him. 
 
 " What 's this for ? " said he, presently. " James 
 Dobbs, if I had more strength I 'd knock you down ; 
 and if I had less prudence I 'd try. You 've been 
 thinking of me, Francis Warrendale Handcock, clerk, 
 as of -a Sweetman. Don't deny it, for I see it in 
 your ears ; for I can't see your face." 
 
 " I felt so down," gasped Jem. 
 
 " Xo wonder, if you seriously believed that all the 
 world were Sweetrnen. Now your sister did she 
 agree with vou ? " 
 
 9 
 
 '' Xo, she made me come to you." 
 
 "Xice little girl; she's as good as she 's bonny. 
 Well, Jem, I forgive you. Tell me your whole story, 
 old fellow. Why did you leave home at first ? " 
 
 James choked a good deal when he first began to 
 speak, but he got over it, and in his plain, simple 
 way he told the whole story of his somewhat sad life. 
 His own dulness, Dolly's many perfections, Mrs. 
 Martin's kindness, and his reasons for leaving home, 
 all was told, and on every word he said was the stamp 
 of simple truth. There came such a mist on Mr. 
 Handcock's spectacles that he had to take them off to 
 polish them. 
 
 " Well, my dear Jem," he said, after a long pause, 
 " you may make your mind easy about a place of
 
 174 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 some kind, for, as I have said, my brother -will cer- 
 tainly give you employment if I press it. Still, I 
 rather hope that Mr. Barlow may know of something 
 that will suit you ; for you see my brother looks upon 
 me as a harmless lunatic, and though he won't refuse 
 me, he '11 make you begin very low, for you see he 
 does not know yon, and he never believes me." 
 
 " I shall not mind that, and neither will Dolly. 
 She bid me say that honest work was all we wanted, 
 for that we 'd had enough of being genteel to last us 
 all our lives." 
 
 The curate laughed heartily. 
 
 " I can see Miss Dolly saying that, with her nice 
 little cock nose in the air and her pleasant eyes 
 dancing. Well, now to business. Is it a fine day, 
 Jem ? Warm, and fit for an interesting invalid to 
 take the air?" 
 
 " How can I tell ? " James asked, with a smile. 
 Would he have believed that morning that he should 
 smile so soon ? " The other day I thought it quite 
 warm, and you went and caught cold." 
 
 " It's a fine thing to be you," was the reply, given 
 with a nod. " I 've been a rickety concern all my life." 
 
 " I wish I could 
 
 " Share your strength with me ? I 'm sure you 
 would, Jem ; but you '11 want it all for Miss Dolly's 
 sake, and " he made a moment's pause, and then 
 went on quietly, " My Master won't ask me to 
 account for strength, when He saw fit to give me 
 weakness." 
 
 " But why do you live in such a street, and in such 
 poor little rooms ? Surely it is not good for you." 
 
 " I like to be near the church and near my poor
 
 JEM'S SECOND SITUATION. 175 
 
 people. I don't tell them that I 'm a rich man ; if I 
 did they 'd be expecting help, and I should never get 
 as near them as I do now, when I 'm only a poor 
 curate. And I can see then what will really do good. 
 I want to do all I can, because though I never feel 
 that it is true yet they seem to think my working- 
 day may be a short one." 
 
 Jem looked at him with such tender admiration 
 that words were needless. 
 
 " My own private conviction is that I 'm a humbug. 
 I daresay I shall live to be a hundred years old, and 
 then die of eating too much cake at your great grand- 
 child's wedding." 
 
 James laughed, and then asked, " How is Miss 
 Barlow ? Has she come home ? " 
 
 " No ; she was on her way, but caught cold and 
 was very ill. She 's better now, and will be at home 
 in a few days. Then," he added, with his cheery 
 laugh, " she and I will coddle each other. We 're a 
 pretty pair, not fit for much else." 
 
 "It's mysterious," said Jem, slowly, "but it is 
 surely all right. Good-bye, Mr. Handcock ; you don't 
 know how you 've comforted me. I must go and tell 
 Dolly that she was right." 
 
 " And I shall go to Mr. Barlow's office and see him 
 about it. It is a fine day, I can see that for myself, 
 and it is no distance." 
 
 James walked home at a very different pace from 
 the unwilling crawl of the morning ; and there \vas 
 Dolly, peeping up through the banisters of the kitchen 
 stairs, whence she commanded a good view of the 
 hall door, and the moment he entered she rushed up 
 and pounced, upon him.
 
 176 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Good news! " she cried ; " the sound of your step 
 told me that. Come up and tell me all about it." 
 
 But when the story was told, I am ashamed to con- 
 fess that Dolly triumphed most unkindly over the 
 unhappy Jem ; that she ignored a precept of her dear 
 Granny, and said, " I told you so," more than once. 
 Also, she refused to take a melancholy view of either 
 Mr. Handcock's health or that of Miss Barlow. 
 
 "It's very funny that they should both be ill in 
 something of the same way," she remarked unsen- 
 timentally ; "hut you '11 see, Jem, they'll hoth get 
 well, and you and I will go to the church to see 
 them married, and we '11 wish them happiness very 
 sincerely ! 1 11 never throw away an old shoe again, 
 to have a good supply. And about me, Jem ? Did 
 he say he would get a place for me ? " 
 
 " I declare, Dolly, I forgot that." 
 
 " you selfish creature ! " laughed happy Dolly. 
 " You greedy creature, asking for everything for your- 
 self and leaving me to starve. I shan't begin to-day 
 though, for I 've cooked such a nice little dinner out 
 of nothing at all. Mrs. Reid is quite amazed at my 
 genius." 
 
 Presently she became rather more grave. 
 
 " I wonder, Jem, where they all are ? I hope they 
 will succeed and pay all that money back. I wish I 
 thought they would be as happy as you and I are 
 going to be." 
 
 Meantime Mr. Handcock went to Mr. Barlow's 
 office, and found him there, as he expected. 
 
 " My dear Frank, is it prudent for you to be out?" 
 
 " I thought I was in your office. Have you heard 
 from Paris this morning?"
 
 JEM'S SECOND SITUATION. 177 
 
 " Yes ; Agatha is quite well now. They '11 be 
 home early next week." 
 
 " That 's good news ! I came here to talk to you 
 about that lad you remember him who found the 
 long-lost diamonds." 
 
 " Of course I remember him." 
 
 Then Mr. Handcock told the story which had 
 moved him so much, and which touched the elder 
 man too. 
 
 " Poor boy ! poor fellow ! And that bright little 
 girl, Agatha took such a fancy to her. Well, I shall 
 see Sweetinan ; not that I doubt the lad, but it is 
 better to do things regularly better, for many 
 reasons and it will stop that fellow's tongue. I 
 know something of that man, and don't like him." 
 
 " Oily," said Mr. Handcock. 
 
 " Just so, and very keen at a bargain, to put it 
 mildly." 
 
 "And what will you do for Jem? I would much 
 rather that you got him a place than that I should 
 get George to take him on at the brewery. George 
 would make light porter of him (I don't mean the 
 liquor, you kuo\v) just to prove that he thought I 
 believed his story too easily." 
 
 " I like that lad ; I think very well of him. He 
 behaved so well about those diamonds, and paid the 
 five pounds so soon. I think I shall engage him as 
 copying clerk, and if I find he has capacity for it I '11 
 raise him by degrees. He is a thoroughly good fellow, 
 and I have no son to push on." 
 
 So Mr. Haudcock made his mind easy about Jem, 
 for he knew that all Mr. Barlow's clerks were well 
 paid. He went home, and Mr. Barlow set off and 
 
 M
 
 178 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 walked to Broad Street to see Mr. Sweetman. Re- 
 membering what he had just heard of poor Jem's 
 ignominious dismissal, lie determined to let the 
 young men in the shop know what he thought of him; 
 so he refused to go to Mr. Sweetman's private room, but 
 begged that gentleman to come to him. Mr. Barlow, 
 as Lord Warrendale's man of business, was a great 
 man with Mr. Sweetman, for Broad Street principally 
 belonged to the earl ; so he came down in a trice, 
 smiling quite beautifully. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Sweetman. I took the liberty 
 of asking you to meet me here ; I 'm not so young as 
 I was, and your stairs are steep." 
 Two undoubted facts. 
 
 " Pray don't mention it, Mr. Barlow. Can I do 
 anything for you ?" 
 
 " If you will answer a few questions that's all I 
 want. I am looking out for a copying clerk, and I 
 wish to engage a young man who was in your service 
 until lately. I know something of him privately, and 
 \ike him, but I wish to know what you think of him." 
 " What name, Mr. Barlow ?" 
 " James Dobbs." 
 
 " My dear sir ! Do you know who he is? " 
 
 " Yes, I know all about him. You had no serious 
 
 fault to find with him, had you, while he was here ?" 
 
 " I really, Mr. Barlow. I Perkins, call Smith 
 
 here Smith was his immediate superior, Mr. Barlow. 
 
 Personally, of course, I had but little intercourse 
 
 with him." "But if I had known," thought he 
 
 to himself, "that he had a friend in Mr. Barlow, the 
 
 matter would have ended differently. Why didn't the 
 
 oal tell me'?''
 
 JEM'S SECOND SITUATION. 17'J 
 
 Enter Mr. Smith with a shoe iu his hand, so 
 promptly had he obeyed the summons conveyed to 
 him. "Look sharp," said Perkins, " I can tell you 
 the manager is not pleased. It 's about that young 
 Dobbs." But Mr. Smith had a conscience, though it 
 was blunted on certain points ; but he would not 
 injure poor Jem to please Mr. Sweetman. 
 
 " Mr. Smith, this gentleman, Mr. Barlow, wi-shes 
 to know your candid opinion of young Dobbs, who was 
 under you at the trimming counter." 
 
 "James Dobbs, sir? A steady, quiet fellow. Not 
 quick, but very attentive." 
 
 "You think well of him then?" inquired Mr. 
 Barlow. 
 
 " Yes, sir. I think him a good, honest young man. 
 He was not a favourite with us, being new to busi- 
 ness, and full of notions about things that are always 
 done. But he is steady and very hard-working." 
 
 " Thank you," said Mr. Barlow. Mr. Sweetman 
 cast a look upon poor Smith which boded ill for him 
 the next time he wanted a holiday. 
 
 " And, Mr. Sweetman, had you no reason for dis- 
 missing young Dobbs beyond that which you mentioned 
 to him that you believed his father's half-promise 
 to pay you for keeping him would never be kept, and 
 that you would not employ him because of his father's 
 bad conduct ?" 
 
 " Well, really, sir, the young man is not quick. I 
 like a brighter style of person, you see ; and I felt 
 that I had been ill-used and " 
 
 "Not by the young man himself? I understand 
 you to mean by his father." 
 
 " Yes a precious rascal ; but of course I more 
 
 M2
 
 180 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 than suspect that young Dobbs was a party to the 
 deception." 
 
 " So far from it, that he left home and began the 
 world single-handed, because, having accidentally 
 become aware of some of his father's peculations, he 
 would receive no help from him. I know this to be 
 true, for circumstances made me acquainted with him 
 some months ago, and I know that he was in actual 
 poverty. However, the matter is of no consequence 
 now, save that, as Mr. Dobbs is to enter my office, I 
 wished that his late companions here should know 
 that he left your service without any imputation upon 
 his character. Good-bye, Mr. Sweetman." 
 
 " What a piece of luck for Dobbs," said Thompson 
 to Perkins, when Mr. Sweetman was out of hearing. 
 
 "A great rise in the world," said Perkins. " Some 
 people have all the luck ! Not but that Dobbs de- 
 serves it he 's a nice fellow, and I always liked him. 
 I wonder where he lives I 'd like to call and con- 
 gratulate him." 
 
 No one knew Jem's abode, however, so Mr. Per- 
 kins could not deliver his friendly congratulations. 
 
 " Inconveniently honest," muttered Mr. Barlow. 
 " Well, I shan't complain of that. I hope he may 
 prove to have brains enough to get on. He shall, 
 if he can ; but they will do very well for the 
 present." 
 
 What joy it was when James ran back next day 
 from Mr. Handcock's, to say that he was to go into 
 Mr. Barlow's office as copying clerk, at a salary of 
 thirty shillings a week! Dolly cried with delight; 
 kissed Jem more times than he could reckon up ; ran 
 downstairs to tell Mrs. Reid, and upstairs to brush
 
 JEM'S SECOND SITUATION. 181 
 
 his hat once more. When he had left her to go to 
 the office and see Mr. Barlow, she provided herself 
 with pen and ink and sat down to hlacken her fingers 
 and make her calculations. She was no great ac- 
 countant, and her fingers required counting so often, 
 sometimes with a pen in one hand, that they pre- 
 sented an inky appearance before she had finished. 
 However, she arrived at very practical conclusions. 
 First, that thirty shillings a week was hetter than 
 nothing a great deal better but that it was not 
 wealth ; so that after a time it would be well for her 
 to get some work too. Secondly, that they could 
 afford to take that third tiny attic, which Mrs. Reid 
 had offered to let them have for one shilling a week, 
 declaring that it was not worth more to her when 
 they had the other two so near it. This room had 
 two great advantages the window was not a skylight, 
 and there was a tiny fireplace. The window only 
 looked over a confused collection of small and dirty 
 back-yards, but it was better than the roofs and the 
 cats. So when Jem came back from his first day's 
 work he found this little room, as neat as hands 
 could make it, ready for his reception. 
 
 "0 Dolly, what a good thought! so much nicer 
 than my room. And a table that one can write at 
 what a comfort ! For I have to learn to write this 
 kind of hand engrossing, do you see and I brought 
 some home to practise." 
 
 " Is it not snug? Only I wish the things were plainer 
 and cleaner. But there 's a fireplace, Jem ; you 
 know we really could not go on without one." 
 
 " No. Well, Dolly, I think I shaU like my new 
 work ever so much better than the shop."
 
 lb'2 MRS. DOBBb' DULL BOY. 
 
 " I should think so ! " she answered, laughing. "Tell 
 me all about it." 
 
 " Mr. Barlow was so kind ! He made me write, and 
 said I wrote a good hand ; then set me to copy ac- 
 counts into a big book, which has to be done ever so 
 neatly. I found out an error in one of the accounts, 
 and he seemed quite pleased. Then he said I must 
 learn to engross, and I brought home this deed to 
 copy, just for practice. Look what beautiful coloured 
 capital letters there are but I am not to mind 
 those." 
 
 " Why, it is something like illuminating. I could 
 do that as nicely as possible." 
 
 So when tea was over, they set to work happily to 
 make copies of the deed Jem had borrowed as a pattern. 
 Jem was slow in picking up this new art, but Dolly 
 could do it almost at once, and, having brought her 
 paint box with her, she amused herself by producing 
 copies of the flourishing, sprawling capital letters, 
 which, as she understood illuminating, she found 
 very easy.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ALL WORK AND NO PLAY, JUST AS BAD FOR JILL AS 
 FOR JACK." 
 
 OLLY did not forget her wish to find some 
 employment by which she could add to 
 the small income, which she made go as 
 far as she could, but which certainly did 
 not admit of saving. But Jem objected 
 so strongly to her undertaking anything 
 which would oblige her to be out at 
 hours when he could not be with her, that she did 
 not press it at first. Two months passed away. 
 Agatha Barlow had come home, and Dolly had 
 spent two or three happy days with her, greatly 
 enjoying both the visits and the walks there and 
 back again. The two girls, who had been mutu- 
 ally attracted from the first, were fast becoming 
 friends, and Dolly thought that Agatha was getting 
 quite strong, she was so bright and cheerful when 
 they were together. But Dolly was not going to give 
 up her point so easily, and she made up her mind 
 that the time was come to attack Jem again. 
 
 " J.em, lay down the book ; it is too dark for you 
 to read any longer." 
 
 " Light the candles then/' remarked Jem, who
 
 184 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 was reading aloud a book lent him by Mr. Handcock. 
 " I want to know what happened next." 
 
 " So you shall after tea, but I want a little talk 
 with you now. And you know what the horrid old 
 miser said when he blew out the rushlight, ' We can 
 talk as well in the dark.' " 
 
 " But you 're not a horrid old miser." 
 
 " Perhaps I 'm a horrid young one, for I 'm going 
 to talk to you about money. First though, you must 
 promise me not to think that I am discontented." 
 
 " I know you 're not discontented, Dolly. I often 
 wonder at you, so many comforts that you must miss, 
 and yet you never mind." 
 
 Dolly did not answer. No one but herself knew, 
 or should know, how sadly the poor child did, in spite 
 of her high courage, miss the luxurious home, the 
 pleasant garden, the varied life of old. She blamed 
 herself for it, she confessed it with tears when she 
 knelt to pray, but so far she had failed to conquer 
 the feeling, though she had concealed it from kind, 
 loving Jem, who would be so sorely grieved. 
 
 " Well but, Jem, what I want to say to you is, that 
 I do wish you could get me some regular employ- 
 ment. You don't like the idea I know, but now I 
 have wasted two months, and I see more plainly than 
 ever that it would be better it would indeed, Jem." 
 
 " But, dear child, I cannot bear to think of you 
 obliged to be out in all weathers and at all hours, 
 going about this great, crowded, busy place all alone. 
 You are not used to it, dear ; and you 're so pretty 
 that people would would wonder to see you alone." 
 
 Dolly laughed merrily. 
 
 " Why, Jem, to hear you one would think that I
 
 ALL WORK AND NO PLAY, &C. 185 
 
 was a beauty, instead of just a decent-looking, cock- 
 nosed little girl with a wide mouth. Do you re- 
 member how I pouted because Fitz said he could 
 hang his hat on my nose ? Poor Fitz ! You may 
 make your mind easy about that part of the business, 
 my dear. I shall dress plainly and walk briskly, 
 minding my own affairs, and not looking at any one, 
 and no one will look at me, or say a word." 
 
 This very practical and common-sense view of the 
 matter did not commend itself to James, who shook 
 his head sagely, and said that " she knew nothing 
 about it." 
 
 " Well, I know this, Jem ; I have done my best, 
 and I know we shall never save money unless we earn 
 more than we do now not to really lay it by, as we 
 said we would. I have saved a little, but you want 
 shirts, and when winter comes you must have a warm 
 great-coat, and we shall want coal, and a lamp, and 
 really the week's money wouldn't do more than than 
 keep us for the week. I do try, indeed." 
 
 " You do more than try ; I think you the best 
 housekeeper in the world." 
 
 " I owe it all to dear Granny. What a wise woman 
 she was. But about the money. Fancy, if we go on 
 like this, only just living on our income, and suppose 
 poor Mamma writes to say that she must come to us, 
 and has no money to come, what could we do ? And 
 is it not selfish and foolish to go on without an effort 
 to do more ? And one of us might be ill," she added 
 pensively. This argument shook him. 
 
 " Well, Dolly, I '11 think it over. I '11 ask Mr. 
 Handcock what he thinks. He 's so clever, he '11 hit 
 upon some plan."
 
 186 MRS. DOBBS' DULL LOY. 
 
 But to his own great surprise a plan was Lit upon 
 iu some mysterious way by Jem himself. And if he 
 had suddenly found himself famous as a painter, a 
 writer, or a public celebrity in any way, he could not 
 have been more surprised. He had been turning 
 Dolly's words over in his mind while still mechani- 
 cally working away at some copying, when the idea 
 struck him struck him so hard, too, that he dropped 
 his pen and looked up at the head clerk so suddenly 
 that the worthy man cried aloud 
 
 " What is it", Mr. Dobbs ?" ' 
 
 " Nothing just now, sir ; I '11 speak to you presently, 
 if you '11 allow me." 
 
 Presently he said, " Mr. Evans, I 'in ready now." 
 
 And Mr. Evans, a young man, who sat at the sanu- 
 table as James, took up the lease which James had 
 been copying, and nodded to him to begin. Perhaps 
 you would like to know the kind of place in which 
 Jem now spent so much time, and to have some 
 notion of what he was doing at this moment ? 
 
 Picture to yourself a large carpetless room with a 
 wide window, the corner part of which was boarded 
 up, and the upper part of which was nearly as little 
 transparent as the boards, owing to a thick coating of 
 dust and smuts. Light came in, but if there was 
 any view it was invisible. The floor was thickly 
 covered with ink- stains ; your first idea on looking at 
 them was that some one must have spilt ink-bottles 
 in the corners on purpose, it seemed so little likely 
 that the stains could have got into every corner acci- 
 dentally. Opposite the fireplace (now empty, as the 
 weather was very warm) stood a large table, with u 
 desk and several large books lying open, and filled
 
 ALL WORK AND NO PLAY, &C. 187 
 
 with neatly-written accounts. This was the table for 
 the head clerk, who sat with his back to the wall, and 
 wrote on as easily and accurately as if the other four 
 occupants of the room had been deaf and dumb, a 
 power which Jem was sorely tempted to envy him. 
 He also kept a sharp eye on the younger clerks, and 
 though he permitted a moderate amount of talk, he 
 was quickly heard to call an idler to order. Near the 
 window another table, a long narrow one, held three 
 desks, and at each desk sat a young man, one of 
 them being our friend Jem. On a high stool near 
 the door sat a lad, ready to answer the street-door 
 bell, or Mr. Barlow's bell, or to run out with a 
 message, or to put on coals, or, in fact, to do any- 
 thing except clean the rooms, which was nominally 
 part of his work. Of the three clerks, one was 
 writing ; one (Jem) was reading aloud (in a steady 
 sing-song voice, never making a stop except to draw 
 a breath), the long lease of which he had just finished 
 a copy; the third clerk, having the original lease 
 open before him, cried " Stop ! " now and then when 
 he perceived any difference between what he heard 
 and what he saw. Then, the desired correction 
 having been noted in pencilling, Jem took up his 
 song again about " all that and those the dwelling- 
 house, demesne, messuage, rights of way/' and so 
 forth, until any one not in the secret may be forgiven 
 for wondering where all the words came from, and 
 why so many are necessary. 
 
 Everything must come to an end, however, and so 
 that terrible lease was finished in due time. Mr. 
 Gregson (the chief clerk) said suddenly, without 
 ceasing to write or even looking up
 
 188 3IRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 "Dobbs!" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " How many errors ? " 
 
 " Three, sir." 
 
 " Very good ; you 're improving." 
 
 Jem set to work to erase the errors and write in 
 the corrections. Four o'clock struck. I forgot to 
 mention that there was a clock in the room, which 
 surely ticked more loudly than any other clock in the 
 world, and which always struck in a violent hurry, as 
 if it had business in the next street, but must strike 
 before it ran off. At the welcome sound of the said 
 clock the two clerks, or rather two of the clerks at 
 the long table, bundled papers, pens, blotting-pads, 
 c., into their desks, seized their hats, and, with a 
 hasty " Good evening," vanished. The office-boy ran 
 downstairs joyfully to his tea ; Jem finished his last 
 correction, and then watched Mr. Gregson's flying 
 pen, until it too came to an end of its day's work. 
 Mr. Gregson closed the big book before him. 
 
 "Want to speak to me?" said he. Like the 
 clock, he was always in a hurry. 
 
 " Yes, sir. This lease has no capital letters yet 
 this copy I mean. You give that kind of work out, 
 don't you?" 
 
 " Always. And lots of copying too." 
 
 "My sister can do it all beautifully, and she 
 wants work of some kind. Would you let her try, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Sure she can do it well ? " 
 
 " Quite sure," said Jem, emphatically. Mr. Greg- 
 son might have been less impressed had he known 
 that Jem would have answered quite as emphatically
 
 ALL WORK AND NO PLAY, &C. 189 
 
 had Dolly's ability to do anything she had ever 
 attempted been called in question. 
 
 " Very well ; take the lease and the copy. And 
 here's a paper of which I want four-and-twenty 
 copies as soon as I can get them. There must be no 
 blunders, mind. There ,'s paper. Let her try her 
 hand." 
 
 " How much do you suppose she could earn in a 
 week, sir ? " asked James, knowing that Dolly would 
 ask him. 
 
 " What, else has she to do ? Depends on that." 
 
 " Oh, she has everything to do for both of us. But 
 she could work at it for four or five hours a day, I 
 think." 
 
 " She 'd earn eight shillings a week if she 's pretty 
 quick. More if she don't make blunders. More still 
 if she can manage the capitals." 
 
 " She does them beautifully ! " cried Jem, seizing 
 the papers and tying them up neatly. " She '11 be so 
 pleased. Good evening, Mr. Gregson ; I 'm very 
 much obliged to you." 
 
 " Not at all. You 're' steady, punctual, quiet, and 
 painstaking, and I 'm glad to do this for you." 
 
 James glowed with happiness at these words, 
 and having now tied the papers securely, he set out 
 for home. 
 
 Dolly was sitting in the window of the little sitting- 
 room, with her work in her lap. She was making a 
 shirt for Jem, and had been industrious all day, as 
 any one could see by looking at the shirt ; but she 
 was not working now. Jem left her at half-past 
 eight. Her household tasks were over early, and it 
 was very dull and lonely to sit there stitching away
 
 190 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 hour after hour. Poor Dolly did not quite know 
 what ailed her, and added a good deal to her suffer- 
 ings hy blaming herself very severely for not being as 
 cheerful and gay as when she had been one of a large 
 family in her old home, with plenty of variety and 
 amusement, and able to spend most of her time in 
 the open air. She missed that, physically ; and it 
 was really as much bodily as mental depression that 
 was making big bright tears run down her cheeks 
 cheeks by no means as rosy as they had been. But 
 she heard Jem's step on the stairs, and, drying her 
 eyes hastily, was found busy at her work, ready to 
 jump up and welcome him brightly. 
 
 " Dolly, only think I 've got work for you ! " 
 " Have you ? you nice Jem ! What is it ? 
 Teaching little girls, I hope." 
 
 " Much better much. Work that you can do 
 here, in your own home ; that I can bring to you and 
 take back for you, so that you need never go out 
 without me. And he says you '11 make eight shillings 
 a week, or ten." 
 
 Dolly, who had brightened up wonderfully, looked 
 rather dolorous on hearing this ; but she turned her 
 fuce a little aside, and Jem was too proud of his plan 
 to perceive her disappointment. 
 
 " Tell me what the work is," she said. 
 " Well, you know how well you did the engrossing 
 when I was learning it. Now Mr. Gregson gives out 
 a great deal of copying all the capital letters. 
 And he '11 supply you with as much as you can do ; 
 and, with the help of doing the capitals, I 'm sure 
 you '11 earn ten shillings a week, that 's twenty-six 
 pounds a year. Think of that, Dolly ! "
 
 ALL WOUK AND SO PLAY, &C. 191 
 
 Dolly had got over her first chill, and seized the 
 papers with delight. 
 
 "Think of all that to lay by for Mamma!" she 
 cried. " I shall work at this while you are away. 
 and make your shirts in the evening while you read 
 to me. Dear Jem, it was a good thought, and you 'vc 
 made me so happy.'' 
 
 So Jem was quite satisfied, and greatly rejoiced 
 that he had been able to gratify Dolly without letting 
 her go about unprotected, of which he had the most 
 unreasonable horror ; for Dolly was quite right in 
 thinking that no one would molest her. In nine casr> 
 out of ten it is a girl's own fault if she meets with 
 impertinence. But you might have talked for ever to 
 James without convincing him that his precious little 
 sister might go about in perfect safety. 
 
 All went well during the summer. They took 
 long walks every fine evening, often visiting the 
 " diamond lane " and the deserted lodge. Moreover. 
 Agatha Barlow had become very fond of Dolly, and 
 often called for her during her early drive, took her 
 home, and kept her until James came for her in the 
 evening. These days were very pleasant to Dolly, 
 who began to love her new friend very heartily. But 
 winter was drawing near. Agatha and her mother 
 were sent to the south of France again, and the 
 evenings were too dark and cold for walking. The 
 only exercise Dolly got now was when she went out to 
 make her household purchases, or when she some- 
 times went a little way to meet Jem on his way home 
 at four o'clock. She worked away at her law-copying, 
 scolded herself dreadfully for feeling ill and inclined 
 to cry, and kept up so well before James that he had
 
 192 MRS. DOBBS' DULL LOY. 
 
 no idea that she was not as happy as she made him. 
 She was earning ten shillings a week now, and they 
 were really beginning to lay by. Not a line had they 
 received from their family, and this added to Dolly's 
 depression. The brilliant colour left her cheeks, and 
 her pretty dark eyes looked weary and wistful. Jem 
 remarked that she was pale, but she assured him she 
 was not ill, and would be " all right " when summer 
 came again. But it was a hard winter to poor little 
 Dolly. Jem, who had never been so happy in his 
 life, and before whom she was always cheerful, had 
 no idea of the bitter tears she wept sometimes when 
 alone. 
 
 In February a letter came from Fitz a long, kind 
 letter, in which he told them that he and Harcourt 
 were now partners with Mr. Murray (their father's 
 friend) in a fine business; that he had been, fortunately, 
 anxious to undertake a contract for which he required 
 a little ready money, and that they, having the money, 
 had made a bargain with him. They were making 
 money fast, and living like princes. The girls were 
 very happy, in the best society the place afforded, and 
 much admired. Mr. Dobbs had not yet ventured to 
 join them, but they hoped he soon would, as Mamma 
 fretted about him. They had, of course, changed 
 their name, and now called themselves Murray, pass- 
 ing for relatives of the head of the firm. Mrs. Dobbs 
 wanted them to come out at once. James should 
 have a clerkship, and the run of the house, of course. 
 They ought to come at once. The letter ended with 
 many expressions of affection from Fitz himself, and 
 a promise to send them their passage money if they 
 could not manage it themselves.
 
 ALL WOR*; AXD NO PLAY, &C. 193 
 
 This invitation was n i temptation to James. He 
 was very happy, and had LO wish to leave his present 
 employment. But it was a sore temptation to Dolly. 
 The sameness, dullness, and dreariness of her present 
 life made the idea of any change welcome ; besides, 
 she was very fond of her mother and Fitz. 
 
 " Jem, it is a very kind letter. What do you think 
 of what he says about our going out to them ? " 
 
 " How can you ask ? " said James, opening his eyes. 
 " Things have not changed since they went. The 
 money which bought that partnership was not theirs 
 in my mind ; and indeed it must be a queer busi- 
 ness in which such a sum could be of much consequence. 
 They '11 just go smash." 
 
 " Might not Mr. Murray have done it for Papa's 
 sake ? " 
 
 " Well, he might ; but it is a chance. Now what we 
 have is certain, and will increase every year. And I 
 could not touch that money, nor take any good from 
 it. I should feel like a thief." 
 
 "I suppose so," said Dolly slowly. He looked at 
 her, and saw that there were tears in her eyes. 
 
 " Why, Dolly," he cried, turning quite pale, "you 
 you don't want to go. Dolly ! " 
 
 Dolly burst into tears. Jem was distracted. This 
 was a turn of affairs for which he was not prepared. 
 Dolly could not check her tears, and he was in a very 
 sad state of mind before she could speak. He saw 
 himself (mentally) forced either to part from Dolly 
 or go with her to San Francisco ! 
 
 " Oh, I should like to see Mamma," sobbed Dolly. 
 Then, "No, Jem, don't pity me; that is not quite 
 the truth. It is not only for that but it would be 
 
 K
 
 194 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 like our old home and I 'm Jem ! I am ashamed 
 of myself." 
 
 Jem took the sobhing little thing in his arms and 
 soothed her tenderly. 
 
 " You need not be ashamed a bit, darling. Even 
 I, a great strong fellow, used to think at first that I 
 must give up and go home, it was so lonely, and the 
 life so hard. And though you and I have never felt 
 actual hardship, it is worse for you, poor little kitten, 
 than that was for me. I knew that, brave and cheery 
 as you always are." 
 
 " Jem, don't praise me. I 'm a hypocrite ! Oh, 
 it is hard ; sometimes I feel as if as if I could not 
 bear it. Don't think me wicked, but indeed I know I 
 am wicked to feel so." 
 
 " My little Dolly ! And I never saw that you were 
 unhappy." 
 
 "I'm not unhappy. You must not say that.- It 
 is only the long, long days with no change in 
 them." 
 
 Jem put her down into a chair, and then went to 
 the window and stood staring out in silence while she 
 dried her eyes, and wished she had not allowed her 
 feelings to get the better of her before him. 
 
 "Dolly, I love you very much, you're sure of 
 that, ain't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, Jem, I am indeed." 
 
 " Well, dear, if you really feel that you must go, 
 I '11 go too. I hope Mr. Barlow may be able to give 
 me a recommendation, and that I shall get work there. 
 I wJl't join the rest, nor profit by that money in any 
 way. But I '11 take you out, and stay there to watch 
 over you ; you '11 want me, sooner or later. But
 
 ALL WORK AND NO PLAY, &C. 195 
 
 before you make up your minrl, think it well over, 
 dear. The dishonesty, and the risk, and the fact that 
 when another crash comes our hope of helping and 
 supporting Mamma will be quite gone. Out there, 
 not joining the others, I shan't do much, I fear, and 
 you will be just one of them. You must think it all 
 over, and then decide." 
 
 Dolly was about to speak, but he stopped her with 
 a kiss. 
 
 " No, no, not to-night. Take time, any time you 
 like, and then tell me." 
 
 Dolly remained silent, for she felt that if she spoke 
 she would cry again. So the matter ended there for 
 the present. 
 
 Next evening, having both thought and prayed over 
 the question, Dolly felt equal to speaking of it calmly. 
 
 " Jem, I have obeyed you, and thought until my 
 forehead was all wrinkled and my head fizzed. And 
 you are to forget everything I said, and how I cried 
 and made a fool of myself, and bothered my good old 
 Jem. I see that you are right, and I'll never forget 
 that you 'd have gone for my sake. I won't go. 
 We '11 stay and work honestly, and make a home for 
 poor Mamma ; she '11 want it yet." 
 
 " And are you sure you are not unhappy, Dolly ? " 
 
 " Jem, I do feel dull often, but I made too much 
 of it last night. But when summer comes, and 
 Agatha, I shall be all right, believe me." 
 
 So Fitz had an affectionate answer, but his invita- 
 tion was declined ; and Dolly kept up a bright face 
 before Jem, and he nearly forgot, after a time, how* she 
 had confessed her sins that evening. But it had 
 been a great battle, though the victory was with Dolly. 
 
 N2
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AGATHA TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 ,, UIETLY, if somewhat drearily, passed the 
 next four months. The weather was cold 
 
 and wet, and Dolly had a bad cold, and 
 was forced to trust all her shopping to 
 Mrs. Eeid for several weeks. She worked 
 away with pen and needle, but she some- 
 times wondered vaguely how she was to 
 live if this state of things was to last. The fact was, 
 the change was too sudden and too complete, and her 
 health and nerves had suffered, and were in danger of 
 giving way altogether. However, fine weather came 
 at last, Dolly's cold got well, and Agatha Barlow 
 came home. 
 
 " Jem ! I 've had a note from Agatha. And I 'm 
 to go early to-morrow and spend the whole day." 
 
 " I '11 call for you in the evening, you know. I 'm 
 so glad she 's come home, Dolly." 
 
 So Dolly set out in the morning, feeling as if she 
 could fly, she was so happy ; but long before she 
 reached Earlston Villa she felt as if she could not 
 drag herself along, she was so weary. Agatha met 
 her in the hall, and instead of greeting her, ex- 
 claimed
 
 AGATHA TO THE RESCUE. 197 
 
 " Why, Dolly, what have you been doing with 
 yourself'? " 
 
 " I am tired, that's all. Agatha, I'm so glad 
 to see you." 
 
 Agatha kissed her, and took her to the drawing- 
 room. 
 
 ''Mamma," she said, "here is Dolly. At least 
 she says she 's Dolly, but I think she 's only Dolly's 
 ghost." 
 
 "Indeed, my child, you've lost your fine colour. 
 Have you been ill ? " 
 
 " Only a cold, and it is quite gone now. I am very 
 tired, though. I really think the way here has grown 
 longer since last year ; then I thought it quite 
 short." 
 
 "We'll have luncheon at once. Ring, Agatha. 
 And how have you and your brother been getting on, 
 my dear?" 
 
 " Very well indeed, Mrs. Barlow. Mr. Gregson says 
 James is doing very well. And only think, Agatha, I 
 am earning ten shillings a week by law copying." 
 
 " Is it not tiresome work, though ? " 
 
 " I like the big capitals, and it is a change from 
 needlework." 
 
 "But to earn ten shillings a week how long do 
 you work each day, Dolly '? " 
 
 " About six hours. You see I can do this at home, 
 and Jein cannot bear the idea of my going out alone. 
 Only for that I should bave liked teaching better." 
 
 " He is very careful of you ; but you do get a walk 
 often, I hope ? " 
 
 " It gets dark so soon in winter ; and when the days 
 lengthened I had this cold."
 
 198 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 They had luncheon then, rather early, on Dolly's 
 account. After luncheon Agatha took her up to her 
 own room, determined to find out what had so changed 
 her little friend. Very soon she drew forth a con- 
 fession of her " wicked discontent," and how she had 
 actually wanted to go to San Francisco, and had made 
 Jem quite unhappy. 
 
 " But now that you are at home, and that we shall 
 have our long walks again, I shall do very well." 
 
 " But the winter will come again," said Agatha. 
 
 " I won't think about it, though, with all the 
 summer before me." 
 
 " Why, you 're a philosopher, Dolly," said Agatha, 
 laughing. 
 
 " You would not say that if you saw me sometimes. 
 I don't know what ails me, but I am always crying ; 
 when I least expect it I begin. I have to put away 
 my writing sometimes, because the tears will run 
 down my nose." 
 
 And Dolly laughed a little nervous giggle, and then 
 burst into tears. 
 
 " Now, see what a fool I am," she sobbed out. 
 
 " Don't try to speak, my dear. Dolly, you are 
 very far from well ; that 's the truth of it." 
 
 Dolly was soon herself again, and only anxious that 
 " Jem should not be told." 
 
 " For you see, Agatha, I must earn money, for if I 
 don't we shall never save a penny. And we both feel 
 that we shall certainly have to get Mamma home and 
 support her, sooner or later. And I might not like 
 teaching any better, particularly if people were not 
 kind and nice." 
 
 " I will not tell him, dear. I think I '11 order the
 
 AGATHA TO THE RESCUE. 199 
 
 pony carriage and take you out ; a drive will do you 
 good. Or shall we stay quietly here ? " 
 
 "A drive would be lovely; I do long for fresh air 
 so much." 
 
 So they went out, and Dolly's tongue regained its 
 merriment and her cheek its bloom as they drove 
 along. Presently Dolly found herself passing by the 
 old lodge of Warrendale Park. 
 
 ' ' Why, I had no idea that your house was so near 
 tliis," she exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes, by that new road we are quite close. You 
 know the old earl built the new lodge at the other 
 side of the park that he might forget how near the 
 town was coming." 
 
 " But I thought your house all those houses be- 
 longed to him ? " 
 
 " So they do. He wanted money, and built them 
 for letting, but still he did not like them so near. 
 Then the factory smoke began to kill the trees, and 
 so they deserted the poor old place altogether." 
 
 " Those trees don't look dead, do they ? The fresh 
 young green is lovely." 
 
 " Those are beech and plane trees ; the smoke 
 does not hurt them. If you saw the park you would 
 be quite sad. Fine old oaks standing up in groups, 
 six or seven together, all black and dead." 
 
 " I should like to see that ; they must look very 
 weird. How I used to long last summer to walk up 
 that lovely dark gloom under the trees ! " 
 
 " Shall I get leave for you to walk there ? You 
 know my father manages everything here now." 
 
 " Agatha ! it will be such a treat. Jem wants 
 to go quite as much as I do. I wish the earl lived
 
 200 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 here still, and that he wanted a lodge-keeper and would 
 give me the situation. Opening the gate for visitors 
 would be great fun, unless they were perverse enough 
 to come on wet days. And Jem and I would live in 
 that darling lodge, and I wouldn't copy all those 
 stupid papers, because I should pay the rent by 
 opening the gate, don't you see ? And oh, how I 
 should like to work in that poor garden, and mend 
 the trellis work, and do lots of things. Do you 
 think, Agatha, that your father would recommend me 
 for the place ? " 
 
 " You would make a most picturesque gate-opener, 
 no doubt ; but how would Jem like the long walk to 
 his office ? And would it not be infra dig. for the 
 future man of business to live in Lord Warren- 
 dale's lodge ? " 
 
 " Infra dig.," quoth Dolly, merrily, " is Latin, I 
 take it, for ungenteel, and Jem and I vowed long ago 
 never to be genteel. Ah ! poor, poor Mamma ! " 
 
 And little Dolly suddenly became silent and thought- 
 ful. I suppose Agatha became thoughtful too, for 
 she was as silent as her friend. It was more than 
 half an hour before either of them spoke again, and 
 then Agatha said abruptly 
 
 " I am sure it could be managed." 
 
 " What can be managed ? " said Dolly. 
 
 " I did not mean to speak, dear. Dolly, what rent 
 do you pay?" 
 
 "Eight shillings a week. That's sixpence a day 
 for two of our rooms and a shilling a week for the 
 third. You don't think it extravagant ? " 
 
 " dear, no, John, we must turn now, or we 
 shall be late for dinner."
 
 AGATHA TO THE RESCUE. 201 
 
 So the sober pony was turned round, and trotted 
 off with renewed vigour towards home and dinner, 
 his own dinner being more in his thoughts, I fear, 
 than any fear that the girls might be late for theirs. 
 They were in good time, however, and that was lucky, 
 for Mr. Barlow had brought home Mr. Handcock and 
 another gentleman to dine with him. And when 
 Dolly came into the drawing-room, having beautified 
 herself for the occasion with divers bows of pink 
 ribbon furnished by Agatha, behold, the second 
 gentleman was her well-beloved Jem ! This was 
 very delightful, and the whole evening was pleasant. 
 
 " I think I ought to feel freshened up for a good 
 many days' work now," cried Doll}*, as she put her 
 flowers in water that night. 
 
 Mr. Haudcock did not leave Mr. Barlow's house 
 with the Dobbses. He and Agatha sat in the win- 
 dow and had a long talk ; and presently Mr. and Mrs. 
 Barlow joined them. 
 
 " What a nice little girl that is," remarked Mr. 
 Barlow. "There's something so bright and fresh 
 about her." 
 
 " And I like the brother too," said his wife. " He 
 is plain and unpretending, but he has plenty of good 
 sense, and he 's very modest, which is more than 
 one can say for most of the young men of the present 
 day." 
 
 " That 's meant at me, Agatha," said Mr. Hand- 
 cock. " I wish your mother would not be so 
 personal." 
 
 " Papa," said Agatha, cruelly disregarding thi? 
 plaint, " you have no idea how ill Dolly looked this 
 morning ; did she not, Mamma ? "
 
 202 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Indeed she did. I was startled at first, but she 
 looked better after that drive with you." 
 
 " I 'm not surprised that the child should look ill," 
 Agatha went on. " She told me you must not 
 think, though, that she was complaining, for her only 
 complaint is that she is afraid she must be very 
 wicked but it seems they are very anxious to save 
 money, and think that their mother will some day be 
 dependent on them. And Dolly has learned to engross, 
 and Mr. Gregson gives her regular employment. She 
 earns ten shillings a week." 
 
 " Well done, little Dolly! I knew there was a new 
 hand at work ; very good work she turns out too ! " 
 
 " But, dear Papa, think of that child (for she is 
 little more) working at such dull drudgery for six 
 hours a day, all alone, scarcely getting any fresh 
 air, for until quite lately it was too dark for them to 
 walk in the evening ! If you had only heard her 
 confess with tears in her eyes that she is very wicked 
 and discontented sometimes, but I must not tell Jem, 
 because it can't be helped, and he would be miserable." 
 
 And Agatha repeated all Dolly's disclosures, and 
 showed what a gallant fight the lonely girl was 
 making against her own weakness. 
 
 " Upon my word she is a good little pet. I must 
 have a talk with Dobbs and open his eyes to it." 
 
 " What good would that do, Papa ? Now I know 
 what really would do good, and Dolly would be as 
 happy as the day is long." 
 
 "What's your plan, Agatha?" said Mr. Hand- 
 cock. "Can I help?" 
 
 " You know the old lodge at the gate of the green 
 avenue ; we passed it to-day, and Dolly was prattling
 
 AGATHA TO THE RESCUE. 203 
 
 away about the avenue, and I promised to get leave 
 for her to walk there if she likes." 
 
 "Yes, certainly; I'll give her a key of the side 
 gate." 
 
 " My dear Papa, I want you to do a great deal more 
 than that. She was joking about getting the earl to 
 make her the gate-opener, that she might live in the 
 lodge, and it struck me that it is a pity to have that 
 nice cottage empty when it would make Dolly so 
 happy to live in it. The child is used to living in 
 her garden a good deal, and you might let them 
 have the lodge, Papa, and then she need not work 
 so hard." 
 
 "Put my clerk rent free into the earl's house!" 
 said Mr. Barlow, raising his eyebrows. 
 
 " Now, Papa, did you not say some time ago that 
 you must have some one in that lodge, to keep out 
 the old women who steal the wood ?" 
 
 " You 'd arm Dolly with a life-preserver, I suppose, 
 and bid her not spare the old women ? " 
 
 " Her mere presence would warn the sinners off the 
 premises ; and Dolly would get back her colour and 
 her strength, and be more like herself." 
 
 "Well, Agatha, I'll give .you the keys, and you 
 may drive there to-rnorraw and see if the house is in 
 very bad repair ; look about, in fact, for 1 never was 
 in the cottage, and it may not be a place they could 
 live in." 
 
 " Papa, how delightful ! Frank, you must come 
 too, for the locks may be stiff. Come to luncheon 
 to-morrow, and Mamma and I will go there with you 
 afterwards." 
 
 So the next day this exploring expedition started,
 
 204 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 and drove to the gate through which Jem had peeped 
 on that memorable day when he found the diamonds. 
 
 Everything had run wild in the garden, and Mr. 
 Handcock had to take his knife and clear a passage 
 through it for the two ladies ; but the house proved 
 to be in better repair than they expected from the 
 outside. It wanted papering and painting, and the 
 windows wanted new glass, but the roof was good and 
 the floors sound. There was a kitchen and a little 
 back kitchen on the ground floor, with a room on 
 each side. Upstairs there were three rooms, and 
 there was a small yard at the back, and a large porch 
 in front, with a stone seat all round it. 
 
 The rooms were small, but pretty, with diamond- 
 paned windows, and walls panelled for about three 
 feet from the ground. 
 
 " I declare, Mamma, my plan will do beautifully. 
 A very little will make this habitable, and I am much 
 mistaken if Dolly does not soon make it pretty. That 
 will be better work for her than copying law papers." 
 
 They drove home, and at dinner Agatha told her 
 father the result of her investigations. 
 
 "All right," said he, " a few pounds will put it in 
 fair order. I will have what is necessary done at 
 once. But there is one thing, Agatha, which you 
 have forgotten." 
 
 "What is that, Papa?" 
 
 " Furniture, my dear. I don't suppose they have a 
 three-legged stool between them ; and furnishing is a 
 serious business." 
 
 " Very, Papa ; as serious as you are trying to look. 
 How do you mean to manage it ? " 
 
 " You have no respect, for my grey hairs, Agatha."
 
 AGATHA TO THE RESCUE. 205 
 
 " yes, Papa and for your plan about the furni- 
 ture too." 
 
 " Well, I can advance Dobbs the money, and let 
 him pay by degrees. I '11 send in the workmen to- 
 morrow." 
 
 The workmen were sent in, and Agatha drove to 
 the lodge every day to watch their progress, and to 
 suggest one or two improvements, such as a set of 
 shelves in a convenient corner, and a tiny dwelling 
 for fowl in the yard. In about three weeks the house 
 was ready. 
 
 Dolly had paid her friends two or three visits 
 during this interval, and they had remarked with 
 anxiety that the increasing heat was evidently in- 
 creasing her weakness. She could not walk both to 
 and from Earlstown Villa, as she had so often done 
 last year, and she really looked very ill. Even James 
 saw this now, and was most unhappy about it. Little 
 knowing what relief was coming, he made up his 
 mind that something must be done. 
 
 " Dolly, will you come out this evening? Do, my 
 dear, it will make you sleep." 
 
 The day had been very hot, and Dolly looked white 
 and weary. 
 
 "I '11 come, Jem, but we won't go far, 1 'm so 
 tired." 
 
 She was always tired, poor child. They walked 
 about for a time, and then she said she could do no 
 more ; and Jem could have cried to see how wearily 
 she climbed up the stairs, which had so often rung to 
 the music of her pattering feet as she flew up them, 
 when she first came there. She sat down the moment 
 they reached their room, and sighed heavily
 
 206 MES. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Dolly, Dolly ! this won't do. My darling, I 've 
 been blind and stupid, but now I must see what can 
 be done." 
 
 " But, dear Jem, it is only the heat." 
 
 ' ' A little while ago it was only the cold ; but the 
 truth is the air here doesn't agree with you, nor 
 the life you lead. I ought to have seen it before. 
 Dolly, I 've been very selfish." 
 
 "Nonsense, Jem." 
 
 " But I have. I see it now. I would not let you 
 seek for work which would have given you variety and 
 air, and I wouldn't look for lodgings in an open part 
 of the town, because I felt sure you were safe with 
 Mrs. Reid ; and I won't go on so any more." 
 
 " But what can we do, dear? I couldn't bear to 
 leave Mrs. Reid now, she 's so kind." 
 
 " I think we must though. I '11 try for lodgings 
 a little way out along the road. And, Dolly, you 
 must not copy any more. You must do nothing now 
 but nurse yourself, and when you are quite well we '11 
 see about little girls to teach ; you used to fancy 
 that." 
 
 " But I couldn't do it now, Jem," said Dolly tear- 
 fully. " Don't ask me to leave off working it would 
 break my heart. We must save, you know, for 
 Mamma." 
 
 " You are my first care, dear, and I think the 
 writing disagrees with you." 
 
 " But I trill write," Dolly said, peevishly, " and no 
 one shall stop me. Of course if you choose to leave 
 these lodgings I can't help it, but I w ill work, and I 
 n- ill copy." 
 
 And she got up and rushed off to her own room,
 
 AGATHA TO THE RESCUE. 207 
 
 leaving poor Jem open-mouthed with astonishment. 
 Presently he felt a little hand on his shoulder, and 
 there was Dolly, crying like a child. 
 
 " Jem, forgive me ! I didn't mean a word of it. 
 dear I 'm only cross and silly. I will do whatever 
 you like, Jem. Only I hope I 'm not going to be 
 sickly, and a burden." 
 
 " My darling, as if you could be a burden ! Don't 
 cry, Dolly. We '11 find nice airy rooms, and children 
 to teach by-and-by ; and you know some day my 
 salary will be raised, and we shall do very well." 
 
 But Dolly was not to be comforted.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MR. BARLOW'S GATE-KEEPER. 
 
 ,R. GREGSON, I want to ask for a 
 holiday, and I don't wish to incon- 
 venience you. Would to-morrow 
 suit you ? I want to look for airier 
 lodgings for my sister." 
 " Is she ill ? " 
 " Not exactly ill, but she will soon 
 be if I don't mind." 
 
 " To-morrow will suit me very well. Where I 
 lodge on the - - road, there is a fine wholesome air, 
 and it is not expensive." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Jem, laying down his pen 
 and going to the door of Mr. Barlow's room, at 
 which he knocked. 
 
 " Eh, Dobbs, is that you ? What is it ? " 
 " If you would allow me to take a holiday to- 
 morrow, sir, I have some business of my own to do." 
 " Yes, very good. How 's your sister ? " 
 " Not at all well, sir. I 'm afraid I 've been very 
 stupid that 's nothing new, but I did think I could 
 take care of Dolly." 
 
 " And I am sure you 've done your best; no man 
 can do more, you know."
 
 :.IR. BARLOW'S GATE-KEEPER. 209 
 
 " Other men's bests would be better than mine," 
 said Jem, with a sigh. " There, I 've kept her in that 
 narrow crowded street, never remembering what a 
 change it was for her ; and let her work too hard too, 
 until the poor little thing is hardly able to walk." 
 
 " You must not blame yourself too much, Jem/' 
 said Mr. Barlow, kindly, quite touched by the poor 
 fellow's downcast looks. " It was only want of 
 experience, not want of kindness : and there is nothing 
 serious the matter, nothing that fresh air and a little 
 amusement won't set to rights." 
 
 " Do you think so, sir ? " 
 
 " I feel sure of it. She is a healthy girl, and 
 where there is good health to begin with, a little 
 ailment like this soon passes away.'' And Mr. 
 Barlow sighed. 
 
 " I 'm going to try for lodgings a little way out of 
 town ; if there 's a strip of garden where they 'd let 
 her work, it would do her more good than anything. 
 I must stop her law-copying too, though it will nearly 
 break her heart." 
 
 " Garden is she fond of gardening ? " 
 
 " yes, sir; she had a garden at home, and spent 
 half her time working in it." 
 
 " Lodgings are dear out of town, and if you want a 
 
 garden By the way, Jem," continued Mr. 
 
 Barlow, turning away so as .to hide a smile. " I have 
 an idea. I wonder would you like it ? I 've been 
 painting and repairing the lodge the old lodge, you 
 know, of "Warrendale Park. It 's a quiet place, pure 
 air, but rather lonely, of course. I want to put some 
 one in who would look after things there for me, keep 
 the keys, and see to the house being opened and aired
 
 210 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 regularly. Do you think you and your sister would 
 dislike it ? You would be rent free, you know, but of 
 course I would give you both something to do ; and may 
 be you would not like it," went on the wily Mr. Barlow, 
 who had the greatest possible dislike to overwhelming 
 people with benefits. 
 
 " The lodge, sir ! the lodge on the road, near 
 where I found the diamonds ? " 
 
 " Yes, the very place." 
 
 " Why, sir," cried Jem, his face brightening up 
 most marvellously, " if you '11 believe me, Dolly has 
 the greatest fancy for that lodge. How often she has 
 said that her fingers longed to be at the garden and 
 the trelliswork. And as to trouble, nothing would 
 be a trouble ; I have plenty of time in the evening. 
 Why, Dolly would be quite cured at the very idea of 
 it." 
 
 " Well, I am glad you are pleased. I hardly liked 
 to mention it, because some people have such strange 
 notions of " 
 
 " Gentility," interrupted James, as Mr. Barlow 
 paused for a word. " Mr. Barlow, whatever Dolly and 
 I may be, we '11 never be genteel." 
 
 Mr. Barlow laughed at the solemn way he spoke. 
 He little knew what gentility meant to Jem ! 
 
 "Then," said he, "that matter is settled. But 
 what will you do abcut furniture ? " 
 
 " We have saved a little money, not enough 
 thougn. But I '11 sell my watch." 
 
 "No, no, we'll settle it thus. I will advance 
 you what you require, and you can pay me a certain 
 sum weekly ; arrange that with your sister." 
 
 " You are very, very kind, Mr. Barlow."
 
 MR. BARLOW'S GATE-KEEPER. 211 
 
 " I have got a very 7 , very good clerk, sir, and he has 
 a very, very good little sister, and I must make them 
 comfortable. Well, take a holiday to-morrow and go 
 out to inspect the lodge. My daughter shall call for 
 Dolly, and drive her out." 
 
 Mr. Barlow resumed his writing, and James went 
 back to his big account book with head and heart so 
 full that he had to wait a few minutes before he could 
 compose himself to his work. 
 
 Mr. Barlow went home to luncheon, and when 
 Agatha came down he said to her 
 
 " My dear, I 'm afraid you '11 be angry with me, for 
 I 've spoken about the lodge to young Dobbs. You 
 see he came to ask me for a holiday that he might 
 look out for airier lodgings, and I was chatting with 
 him, and so, when the opportunity was so good, I just 
 said I meant to put some one into the lodge, who 
 should keep the keys, look after the house, &c., and 
 would he care to undertake it ; and he jumped at it." 
 
 " Papa ! you designing old man. And did you 
 then go on to say that you had some second-hand 
 furniture which you would be obliged to him to take 
 off your hands for a small sum ? " 
 
 " No Miss, I said nothing of the sort ! " 
 
 " And now you are sorry you did not think of it ! 
 Never mind, Papa, I forgive you ; indeed I am glad it 
 has happened thus ; I am -sure it is hest." 
 
 " It was indeed, my dear. He must have suspected 
 that it was done on purpose for them if I had not 
 mentioned it then ; now it is a mere matter of 
 business, and I shall really make him do all the over- 
 seeing out there, so that it will save me a good deal 
 of trouble." 
 
 o 2
 
 212 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Indeed, Papa, I 'm not sure that you have not 
 made too hard a bargain with poor Jem, after all ! 
 What a hard, grinding man you are ! Well, at all 
 events, I shall see Dolly's face when she goes into her 
 new kingdom to-morrow." 
 
 " Yes, go early and take her out there, dear. She 
 could not walk so far." 
 
 How long the way home seemed to James that 
 evening, though certainly not because he made much 
 delay ! For he walked at such a pace that several 
 people wondered whether he was escaping from the 
 police or going for a doctor. Only once did he stop, 
 and that was before the window of a shop where 
 second-hand furniture was sold. There his eye 
 was caught by a large and handsome bookshelf and 
 writing table combined, which he thought "would 
 hold all our books and Dolly's papers so comfortably," 
 and no doubt there would have been room enough. 
 Then he sped on again and soon reached Mrs. Reid's 
 house. No sweet little face was to be seen peeping 
 through the banisters of the kitchen stairs ; poor 
 Dolly had quite given up running about more than 
 was necessary. Jem went up, but Dolly was not in 
 the sitting-room, although her writing still lay on the 
 table, which was generally prepared for dinner before 
 he came home. He went to the door of her own 
 room and knocked : getting no answer, he went in, 
 feeling rather nervous. But poor little Dolly was only 
 asleep ; the night before had been unusually hot, and 
 she had hardly slept at all. She had copied away as 
 long as she could, and had then fancied that a little 
 needlework would be a pleasant change. So she had 
 gone to her room to take the trimming off her summer
 
 MR. BAKLOW's GATE-KEEPER. 218 
 
 hat, and put it on again, revised and improved ; and 
 in the middle of this most interesting occupation (for 
 that it was interesting to Dolly I am not ashamed to 
 confess) she had fallen fast asleep, and her head had 
 dropped gently upon the bed beside which she was 
 sitting, while her straw hat, ribbons, flowers, and all, 
 lay in a heap at her feet. The sound of the creaking 
 door disturbed her, and she opened her eyes and 
 stared blankly at Jem. 
 
 " Why, Dolly, are you feeling worse, my darling ? " 
 
 " Worse, what 's worse ? Dear me, Jem, is that 
 you ? Are you not very early ? " 
 
 " A few minutes earlier than usual because I walked 
 fast. Were you ill, dear ? " 
 
 " No, only sleepy. I must have had a fine long 
 nap, for I came here at two o'clock, and see how little 
 I had done to my hat." 
 
 " And I 'm sure you did not eat your biscuits, 
 though you promised me, Dolly." 
 
 " There they are indeed ; but how could I eat when 
 I was asleep ? Xever mind, I '11 eat all the better 
 dinner. And the cloth is not laid. dear ! I 've 
 been very lazy." 
 
 She gathered up her work and laid it on the bed, 
 and Jem, watching the sleepy flush fade from her 
 face, thought that he would not tell his news until 
 she had had some dinner to strengthen her a little. 
 
 " Get dinner, Dolly, for I have some news for you 
 good news that will please you, dear. And I 
 shan't tell it until after dinner." 
 
 It saddened him to see how she tried to put on her 
 old bright manner, and to appear in a hurry to get 
 dinner, and angry with him for not telling her the
 
 214 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 news at once ; and what a languid little performance 
 it was with all her pains ! 
 
 Dinner was over, and Dolly had apparently for- 
 gotten all about the news, for she began arranging 
 the room, and asked no questions. 
 
 " Well, Dolly, don't you want to hear the news I 
 spoke of ? " 
 
 " yes, I had forgotten. What is it, Jem ? 
 Stay, I 've guessed it ! " 
 
 " Tell me your guess, and I '11 give you six, Dolly, 
 and bet you a cake for tea that you don't guess 
 right." 
 
 "Why, what can it be?" she said, looking quite 
 eager at last. " Is your salary raised ? " 
 
 " No. That 's one guess." 
 
 " Then, Jem, is it that the wedding is to be 
 soon Agatha and Mr. Handcock ? " 
 
 " No, and that 's two." 
 
 " Well, let me think. I suppose it is not that I 
 am to spend to-morrow with Agatha. No, for you 
 would hare told me that at once." 
 
 " Dolly, for shame, you are trying to cheat. I '11 
 count that as three, and you 're wrong again. Half 
 the guesses gone. No cake for tea to-night." 
 
 " You 've heard of cheap lodgings ? " 
 
 Jem pondered for a moment. Could he fairly say 
 no ? Of course he could ; the lodge was not lodgings, 
 and to live rent free is not to live in cheap lodgings. 
 So he said "No; but that's the best shot you've 
 made." 
 
 " Then it is something about lodgings, Jem. 
 tell me quick. I won't guess any more." 
 
 The colour deepened on her cheek, her eyes were
 
 MR. BARLOW'S GATE-KEEPER. 215 
 
 like Dolly's eyes again iu her excitement, and Jem 
 began to work his slow brain and loving heart for 
 means to lengthen out her pleasure. 
 
 " It is about lodgings, and yet it isn't," he said. 
 Dolly screamed, just a little cry of wonder and fuss, 
 and exclaimed, " You 've heard of a wee, wee house, 
 then, such a tiny one that we can have it all to our- 
 selves and make it nice and pretty." 
 
 " Dolly, I declare you 're a witch ! Go on guessing." 
 " But, Jem, I shall be so disappointed if you are 
 only making fun of me." 
 
 "As if that's likely! And you won't be disap- 
 pointed, guess as you will. "What do you wish for 
 most? Now think, Dolly." 
 
 " Ah ! " she said ; " but I wish for impossible 
 things sometimes. It is better neither to think nor 
 to talk of them." 
 
 " Just this once to please me. Say what you really 
 wish now. I 'in not afraid." 
 
 " My dear Jem, has some fairy been giving j-ou 
 three wishes ? " 
 
 " Yes, that 's just it," exclaimed Jem, delightedly, 
 " and I want you to wish them. So now, Dolly, fire 
 away." 
 
 "A garden," gasped Dolly. 
 
 "You shall have it, my dear," Jem answered, 
 quietly. This so amazed her that she could only 
 stare in silence. 
 
 " Go on, Dolly. Anything else ? " 
 "Jem, I am afraid you've gone silly I am 
 indeed." 
 
 " I am as wise as usual. Your second wish, 
 please ; don't keep the fairy waiting."
 
 216 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 "Fresh air and quiet." 
 
 " Is that one wish or two ? The fairy may not like 
 to be cheated." 
 
 "I think it is only one; you can't have fresh air 
 in a noisy place." 
 
 " Very well. Now for the third, please." 
 
 But Dolly had turned quite pale, and could only 
 cry out, " tell me all, Jem, I feel as if my head was 
 turning into a humming-top ! " 
 
 Jem took her up and put her on his knee, saying, 
 " You little goosey ! there now, be quiet and I '11 tell 
 you. You '11 hardly believe me, yet I assure you it is 
 all true, both what I have said, and what I am going 
 to say. I went to Mr. Barlow to-day to ask for a 
 holiday, that I might look out for lodgings, and he 
 was talking to me about it, when he remembered this, 
 and asked me if I should like it. He wants some one 
 to live in the old lodge, that you admire so much 
 Warrendale Park, you know and ,to keep the keys 
 and oversee everything. And he offered it to me, 
 rent free, Dolly ; and there 's a garden, and he 's had 
 it all painted and repaired. Why, Dolly, I thought 
 you'd be pleased." For Dolly was crying as if her 
 heart would break. 
 
 " Oh, so I am, only I 'm silly. Oh, what a foolish, 
 ungrateful little pig I 've been," with a vicious em- 
 phasis on the word pig; "I don't deserve this a bit, 
 so discontented, so peevish, so Her self-accu- 
 
 sation ended in a great sob. 
 
 " Nothing of the sort, dear ! you 've only been very 
 poorly, and that made you feel bad. You '11 soon be 
 well again now. We shall have no rent to pay, so 
 that anything you earn will be a clear gain, you
 
 MR. BARLOW'S GATE-KEEPER. 217 
 
 know; so you need not work hard, only for, say, 
 three hours a day. And you '11 have to keep the 
 garden in order, and the house too. Plenty of run- 
 ning about and fresh air." 
 
 "It is only too good. And a nice pretty walk for 
 you every day instead of these weary streets."; 
 
 "Miss Barlow will call for you to-morrow to take 
 you out to see what furniture we shall want. Mr. 
 Barlow is to advance me the money to buy it." 
 
 "I was just wondering how we could manage. We 
 will get only just enough, Jem, and add anything we 
 want by degrees." 
 
 They sat there talking over their new prospects 
 until it was quite late ; and that night, every time 
 that the heat and the street noises awoke Dolly, she 
 murmured "The Lodge," and went to sleep again 
 with a smile upon her face. 
 
 Next morning Mrs. Reid had to be told the news, 
 and she was unselfishly delighted to hear it, for 
 Dolly's sake. She at once offered to go with them 
 and point out places where second-hand furniture 
 could be obtained. Dolly thanked her, but when she 
 was gone, said to Jem, " No second-hand finery for 
 me. Don't let us get am'thing second-hand, Jem. 
 They may be cheap, but they are certainly nasty ! 
 all the furniture in this house was ' picked up,' as 
 she calls it, second-hand. And just look at it, dirty 
 and stuffy, not fitting into the corners nicely, and 
 each article looking as if it wouldn't bow to the rest. 
 Let us get very plain things, and as little as we can, 
 but new and clean and fresh." 
 
 " I think you are right, Dolly. I leave all that to 
 you ; only I saw such a nice kind of table and book-
 
 218 MRS. DOBBS' DULL HOY. 
 
 shelf and drawers, all in one, yesterday. You might 
 just look at it." 
 
 "We'll measure the rooms first," said Dolly. 
 " Run out, Jem, and buy me a two-foot rule." 
 
 I may just state here that when the measurements 
 were made it was found that the little drawing- 
 room, or parlour, at the lodge, was only nine feet 
 high, whereas the article on which Jem had fixed 
 his affections was nine and a half in height, and 
 large in proportion. It would have filled the room 
 had it ever been got in, but indeed it must have 
 shared the fate of the Yicar of AYakefield's too am- 
 bitious family picture. 
 
 Agatha and her mother came for Dolly at about 
 ten o'clock, and with them came Mr. Handcock, 
 who carried James off in a cab, so that they all arrived 
 at about the same time. If Dolly had admired the 
 lodge when in its old state of disrepair, how did she 
 admire it now, when the trelliswork was neatly 
 mended ; when the windows shone till every little 
 diamond pane twinkled like a star ; when the path 
 up to the door was clear, and the shape of the 
 flower-beds could at least be guessed at ; and when, 
 above all, kind Mr. Barlow stood in the door and 
 said, " Ah ! this is the new gate-keeper ! Rather 
 young for the place, but I hope you '11 be sober and 
 civil." That was a joke, if you like. Then the 
 bright, cheery little rooms, the charming kitchen 
 range, the delicious coal-hole (I am giving you Dolly's 
 adjectives), the darling little parlour, the lovely back 
 jard with a dear darling hen-house, and the most 
 perfect pigeon-house ever seen nailed up to the wall. 
 And the shelves of Agatha's contriving. Oh, it was
 
 MH. BARLOW'S GATE-KEEPER. 219 
 
 all so nice that Dolly didn't think furniture would 
 improve it. However, when Mr. and Mrs. Barlow 
 had left them, taking away Agatha, as they were 
 afraid she would catch cold, and Mr. Handcock and 
 Jem hegan to make a list of necessary things, Dolly 
 ceased to exclaim, produced her two-foot rule, and 
 proved herself the most clear-headed and practical of 
 the three. 
 
 The rooms were measured, and the sizes written 
 down in Jem's note-hook. The room on the right 
 side of the kitchen was to he the parlour ; the other 
 Jem advised Dolly to take for her own, but she 
 looked mysterious, and said, No ; the room over it 
 was very nice, and Jem should have the one over the 
 parlour. A list was made, and Mr. Haudcock re- 
 marked that no furniture was appropriated to the 
 second room downstairs ; but he heard Dolly whisper 
 to her brother, "We'll do that by degrees for poor 
 Mamma." Then they sat down in the porch to 
 rest. 
 
 " The only thing I don't like," said Jem presently, 
 "is, that Dolly will be alone here for so many hours 
 every day. I didn't think of it till I saw the place. 
 Tramps might frighten her." 
 
 "What! with that grand gate between us, Jem? 
 I can keep it locked while you are away." 
 
 " Still, Miss Dolly, I agree with Jem. It is too 
 lonely for you to be quite alone ; you '11 have to get 
 a servant." 
 
 " Mr. Handcock, no ! We should have to take 
 a girl like the one Mrs. Reid had during the winter ; 
 and oh, she was so dirty ! I would much rather not 
 have her."
 
 220 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " But you need not have her," said James. 
 
 "We could only afford such another though, and 
 I should hate her dreadfully." 
 
 " Well, but I don't like you to be alone, Dolly. 
 If we could find some nice clean girl cheap, you 
 know," and Jem frowned in the intensity of his new 
 cares as the master of a house. 
 
 "Not a girl," said Mr. Handcock, "but an old 
 woman ; and I know the old woman, the very article 
 for you, Miss Dolly made on purpose, I do believe. 
 She 's in the workhouse, and she hates it awfully. 
 She cannot bear the idleness and the kind of talk 
 that goes on. She was once well off, but her husband 
 and sons were lost at sea, and she, after living as 
 best she could for many years, had a fever, and had 
 to go into the house. She is really a good, decent 
 creature, and she 's always asking me to find a place 
 for her." 
 
 After some resistance, Dolly promised to see old 
 Mrs. Pyne, and to " think about it." Then they 
 returned to town, -and the next few hours were spent 
 in shopping. Oh, what pleasant shopping ! Dolly 
 was very hard to please though. She knew what 
 she wanted, and would take nothing else. Jem 
 marvelled at the steadiness with which she refused 
 to be talked into buying anything but just the article 
 she described, and the perseverance with which she 
 hunted for that article. Not a single bit of rosewood 
 or gilding would she look at nothing but cane and 
 polished deal, or plain white paint ; and yet she 
 would buy no ugly, clumsy things. Bat at last, with 
 much patience, she got all that she wanted. Four 
 common cane chairs ; two lounges of the same
 
 MR. BARLOW'S GATE-KEEPER. 221 
 
 material ; a neat oval table ; a second narrow table 
 to stand against the wall ; a small book-case to stand 
 on tbis table ; a fender and fire-irons, tbe plainest 
 that could be found. No carpet, no curtains ; wbite 
 muslin blinds would do for tbe present. Tbis was 
 for tbe parlour. Tbe bedrooms were provided for 
 on tbe same scale of simplicity a small iron bed- 
 stead, a table, cbair, and chest of drawers for eacb. 
 
 " And really, Jem, tbat 's all I can do to-day. I 
 I should like to bave cbosen all we want wbile you 
 can be witb me, but I 'm so tired tbat I must leave 
 tbe kitchen and all tbe earthenware for to-morrow. 
 You won't mind ? " 
 
 " No, certainly not. Whatever you get I am sure 
 I shall like it. Come home now, dear." 
 
 So Dolly went forth to her shopping again the 
 next day, but tbis time alone ; and I fear that Jem's 
 absence made her extravagant, for she could not 
 bring herself to buy the very cheap and clumsy cups 
 and saucers which her conscience made her ask for at 
 first. Those she chose were not dear, however, and 
 she consoled herself by hoping they would last better. 
 Having purchased a modest supply of crockery, and 
 a few saucepans and other cooking utensils, she 
 fondly believed that she had got everything necessary, 
 and determined to begin housekeeping next day. 
 The goods were all to be sent to the lodge, and 
 Agatha drove Dolly out, bringing also* a stout 
 housemaid to help in arranging everything ;. and as 
 excitement made Dolly equal to two housemaids, the 
 furniture was soon in its place. No empress was 
 ever prouder of her palace than was Dolly of her 
 house and its contents.
 
 222 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 " Agatha ! does it not look nice ? I cannot 
 bring myself to believe tbat I shall be living here 
 and using all these clean pretty things, instead of the 
 stuffy horrors we 've about us lately." 
 
 " I like everything you have got, Dolly ; but you 
 seem to me not to have got enough for comfort." 
 
 " Oh, it 's nice warm weather, and one wants but 
 little. I will get things by degrees." 
 
 " Well, but you see I want to make you a present, 
 and I was waiting to see what you want most. Now, 
 I shall give you a carpet and curtains for this room 
 and strips of carpet for the bedrooms. Then they 
 will look far nicer." 
 
 " Indeed, Agatha indeed we have all we want. 
 Please, Agatha " 
 
 " Please, Dolly, don't be cross ; let me have my 
 own way in this. Mamma wants to give you a 
 present too, and I was to tell her what to get. And 
 I see something or, rather, I don't see something, 
 Mistress Dolly, which I think you must have." 
 
 " What is that ? You are all too kind to me ; 
 but indeed I think I have everything that is actually 
 necessary." 
 
 " My dear, if you were on a desert island you 
 might contrive to wash yourself and get dry somehow 
 without a towel ; and as you would have no furniture 
 to dust, you would not want a duster ; and you could 
 certainly eat your dinner without a table-cloth, and 
 sleep without sheets ; but unless your desert island 
 were warmer than this country, I think you would 
 wish for blankets, Dolly." 
 
 Dolly started, reddened, and then laughed heartily. 
 
 "I never remembered all that. I just bought
 
 MR. BARLOW'S GATE-KEEPER. '223 
 
 mattresses and pillows. Agatha, how Jem will 
 laugh at me." 
 
 " Mamma's presents shall be sheets, table-cloths 
 and towels," said Agatha. 
 
 Dolly bought blankets on her way home, and her 
 memory having got a jog, even remembered quilts. 
 Finally, all was ready. Jem had another holiday, 
 that they might make the move comfortably. They 
 were very busy, unpacking their clothes and books, 
 when Mr. Haudcock made his appearance in a cab, 
 bringing with him old Mrs. Pyne. On the top of the 
 cab was a large, low crate, from which issued the most 
 extraordinary sounds. Dolly ran out to the door, and 
 Mr. Handcock called in peremptory style, " Gate ! 
 gate there ! You 're very slow worst gate-opener I 
 ever saw in my life." 
 
 "Please, sir, I'm new to the place," cried Dolly, 
 in great glee. " Don't go and complain of me. I'll 
 do better next time. You 're welcome, Mrs. Pyne : 
 come in ; don't you like the kitchen ? I think I like 
 it as well as the parlour. Mr. Handcock, what is that 
 noise ?" 
 
 (i Miss Dolly. Agatha wouldn't let me give you a 
 carpet, though I had set my heart on it from the first, 
 so I turned my attention to the live stock. Driver, 
 lend a hand here. Jem, catch this, will you ? Look 
 I 've brought you a cock and four hens speckled 
 Hamburghs very fine layers, I 'm told. And a pair 
 of white pigeons to live in that fine new dovecot. And 
 last, but not least Miss Dolly, I've brought you a 
 friend and companion. You '11 never feel lonely now 
 when Jem is away, nor want a welcome when you 
 come home."
 
 224 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 And from a large basket in the cab lie produced a 
 little grey Skye terrier, with such a pair of saucy eyes 
 and such a dear little black snub nose, that Dolly 
 went down on her knees and kissed it then and there, 
 and only afterwards remembered that she had never 
 said thank you. The cock and his four wives were 
 shut up in the hen-house ; the pigeons were fed and 
 caressed, and begged to remain in their new abode, to 
 secure which a bit of looking-glass was put in for 
 them by Mr. Handcock's advice. 
 
 " They '11 stand swelling and cooing before that for 
 hours until they get used to the place, and know 
 you. Then you had better take it out, or you '11 have 
 other people's pigeons coming to you." 
 
 But Brisk, the terrier, was made one of the family 
 without delay ; and of one thing we may be pretty 
 sure in his own opinion he was not the least im- 
 portant member of it. 
 
 Jem and Dolly had always been in the habit of 
 reading a portion of Scripture and a prayer (out of 
 the Prayer-book) before they went to bed, and to- 
 night they called Mrs. Pyne to join them. Jem was 
 not fluent at any time, but to-night his heart was too 
 full of gratitude for silence to be possible ; so when 
 the usual prayer was finished, and they had all re- 
 peated the Lord's prayer together, Jem laid his hand 
 on Dolly's as she was about to rise, and having 
 remained still for a moment, he looked up and said 
 
 " Father ! This is all Thy giving. Make us very 
 grateful. Fill us with Thy Love." 
 
 It was not an eloquent thanksgiving, but it came 
 from a full heart, and surely such words do not linger 
 on their w:iy to the Throne.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A QUIET MIND. 
 
 T would delay me too long for I have a 
 good deal to tell yet that must be told 
 were I to describe at length the first merry 
 days at the lodge. How Dolly worked in 
 the garden, planting and sowing. How 
 Brisk had to be punished for digging up 
 the roots which she had just put down. 
 How the hens screamed in chorus when Brisk rushed 
 out into the yard. How the said hens eat much food 
 and laid no eggs. How at last they laid, among 
 them, one very small egg, and broke it ; Mrs. Pyne 
 said, because they had no nests. How, nests being 
 provided, the hens set them at nought, and laid eggs 
 in select corners of the yard, in the coal-hole, under 
 the pump anywhere, in fact, save in the nests. How 
 Agatha suggested that they should have a nest-egg 
 and how, nest-eggs being provided, the hens felt that 
 their dignity had been properly consulted, and the 
 family had fresh eggs in plenty. How the little 
 garden gradually grew trim and fair and sweet, thanks 
 to cuttings, plants, roots and seeds from Mr. Barlow's 
 big garden. How Dolly sang over her cookery, her 
 sketching, her gardening over everything except her 
 copying, which was still a solemn business, though
 
 226 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 no longer a burden. How her cheeks bloomed again, 
 and her eyes brightened, and how she found it hard 
 to believe that she had ever felt weak and woe-begone, 
 and disposed to cry for nothing. Finally, how proud 
 and full of joy was Jem, and how little he realised 
 that all this happiness was his work the result of 
 his simple, plodding, earnest well-doing. 
 
 They heard again from Fitz. All was going on 
 well, he said, and Mirrie was going to be married to a 
 "perfect gentleman," possessed of fabulous riches, 
 and who gave her splendid presents. He ended by 
 urging them to come out, but this was no longer a 
 trial to Dolly. 
 
 So passed the happy summer, and autumn was 
 nearly over, when one day the white pony stopped at 
 the gate. Brisk ran out barking, and Dolly followed, 
 opened the small gate, and admitted Agatha. 
 
 " I 've come to spend the morning, Dolly, if you 
 are not busy." 
 
 " I 'm never too busy for that !" 
 
 " Then, John, you may go home, and come back 
 for me about three, please." 
 
 " That 's lovely, Agatha. Come in that I may set 
 things going about dinner, then Mrs. Pyue will see 
 to it, and we can sit in the garden if you like ? " 
 
 "Not to-day, dear. It is rather cold now for me 
 to sit in the open air." 
 
 " Then we '11 sit in the parlour. Does not my garden 
 look beautiful, Agatha? even still, late as it is." 
 
 "It does, indeed I think your geraniums are in 
 better blossom than mine," Agatha answered, and as 
 she spoke she sighed a little. Dolly hastened to 
 make her arrangements, and then took her visitor into
 
 A QUIET MIND. 227 
 
 the little parlour, which really looked quite pretty in 
 its fresh, clean simplicity, aided by flowers and ferns 
 in the window and on the tables. Agatha was placed 
 in one of the lounges, and Dolly took out her needle- 
 work. 
 
 " I came to tell you something, Dolly." 
 
 " Oh," cried Dolly, looking up quickly, "is it that * " 
 
 " Is it what '? What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Never mind I don't think it is that, now that I 
 look at you. What is it, Agatha ? " 
 
 " The doctors say I must spend this winter abroad, 
 as I did last winter." 
 
 Dolly's face lengthened considerably. 
 
 "Oh, must you really ? I thought you were so 
 much better; Mr. Handcock thinks so, and Mrs. 
 Barlow said so only a week ago ! " 
 
 " I know they all think so. Did Frank say that to 
 you ? poor Frank." 
 
 " He said it to Jem. And so you are, Agatha ! you 
 are much stronger, are you not ? " 
 
 " They say I am. Even Dr. Hedley says that this 
 is only a precaution. But Dolly, don't tell any one 
 that I said this; I do not think myself that I am 
 better." 
 
 "0 don't say that, dear Agatha ; you must be better 
 if not, who would know it so well as your father 
 and mother, and Mr. Handcock and the doctor ? " 
 
 " Myself," she answered quietly. " But tell me, 
 Dolly, what did you think just now I was going to 
 tell you?" 
 
 " Something much nicer than what you did tell 
 me, I assure you. How we shall miss you, Agatha. 
 What shall I do without you ? " 
 p2
 
 228 MRS. DOBBS' DULL EOY. 
 
 " You have plenty to do and you must do some- 
 thing for me. Papa lias become so fond of you, 
 Dolly, that it has been quite a pleasure to him, talk- 
 ing out here of an evening to see how you and your 
 garden get on. Try and coax him to come sometimes 
 while we are away. He is so lonely at home without 
 us." 
 
 " I will. Oh, he is so kind to me I always feel 
 quite delighted when I hear him call ' Gate ! ' I '11 
 tell him that I shall fall into idle habits if he does 
 not keep me in practice. Well I shan't be so badly 
 off as I was last winter, and yet I shall miss you more, 
 because I know you so much better now, Agatha." 
 
 "I shall miss you very much, too. You 've 
 brightened my summer more than you would believe. 
 But you have not answered my question and I mean 
 to be answered." 
 
 ''What question?" 
 
 " What did you think I was going to tell you ? " 
 
 " I would rather not say, Agatha." 
 
 " Then I will tell you. It was that I was going 
 to be married." 
 
 " Yes, it was," Dolly answered, blushing. 
 
 " Dolly, I do so long to speak freely about that to 
 some one and you are my friend, you know. Will 
 you listen, and tell no one what I say ? It will be a 
 relief to me to speak to you about it." 
 
 " Indeed I will tell no one. Is it to be when you 
 come home in spring?" 
 
 " So they think but indeed, dear, it will not be 
 then, or ever." 
 
 " Agatha ! what, not ever at all ? you cannot mean 
 that. And he "
 
 A QUIET MIND. 229 
 
 " He loves me, anil I love him. We 've been 
 engaged now for four years. Yet, Dolly, I shall 
 never be his wife. I feel quite sure of that. I shall 
 never bo strong; never as well again, I think, as I 
 have been this summer. And I will never bind him 
 to an ailing wife." 
 
 "Yet if he wishes it?" 
 
 "He must not wish it. He is a clergyman, his 
 time and strength are not his own, you know, and he 
 must not waste either of them in nursing his wife. 
 He is not very strong himself, either." 
 
 *' You will never have the heart to tell him this." 
 
 " I shall never need to tell him." 
 
 " Why '? if he thinks it is to be next spring ? " 
 
 " It will come by degrees of itself. Dolly, don't 
 tell any one that I said this." 
 
 "I don't understand you, Agatha," Dolly said 
 quickly. " Oh, I shall pray so hard that you may 
 come home so well that even you will feel that you 
 cannot say a word against it ! " 
 
 " Ah, Dolly ! I used to pray for that. Now I pray 
 that ' not my will, but His ' may be done. Let us 
 walk up to the Hall, Dolly. It is so lovely under the 
 beech trees at this time of the j'ear." 
 
 In a few days Agatha and her mother were gone to 
 the south of France ; and Dolly missed them very 
 much. Yet she did not feel lonely and wretched, for 
 she was now in perfect health, happy and busy. Not 
 that she forgot her mother, or any of them ; but she 
 showed her affection in a much better way than by 
 fretting. Every penny that could be spared was 
 either laid by to provide for " poor Mamma's " pos- 
 sible journey, or spent in furnishing the pretty room
 
 230 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 at the other side of the kitchen. It was done by 
 degrees, however a sofa now, a carpet some other 
 time but it was a most pretty and luxurious little 
 room, and always kept as ready as it could be made 
 for its absent owner. This was done in silence ; not 
 even to Agatha did Dolly show her treasures, for she 
 was afraid it would be thought silly. The winter 
 passed without any event of importance, except that 
 the junior clerk left Mr. Barlow's office, and Jem got 
 his place, with a better salary. 
 
 It was now nearly summer again, and Agatha wrote 
 to tell Dolly that she was coming home. " And you 
 will see that I was right," she added. Alas, when 
 they met, Dolly did see it. The change, though 
 slight, was very perceptible. Mrs. Barlow, having 
 been with her daughter all this time, did not seem 
 aware of it, it had come so gradually. She was the 
 only person who said a word about the long delayed 
 marriage ; something kind to Dolly, about Agatha 
 having no sister, and no friend so dear as herself, so 
 that she must be thinking what she would like to 
 wear as bridesmaid. Dolly changed colour, though 
 she contrived to answer, " Mrs. Barlow, I shall 
 leave the choice to you, and only do as I am desired/' 
 
 " It will not be just yet, Mamma," said Agatha, 
 " I have spoken to Frank." Mrs. Barlow asked no 
 questions, but went on to talk of something else in a 
 hurried, nervous way.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " AND THIS IS JEM ! " 
 
 summer passed slowly away. Little 
 was thought of either at the lodge or at 
 Earlstown Villa, but the gradual decay of 
 Agatha's health. When autumn came 
 she was evidently dying. Dolly spent all 
 her mornings with her friend, nursing 
 and cheering her ; the evening was Mr. 
 Handcock's time for heing with her. But the end 
 was very near now. 
 
 One day Dolly left Earlstown Villa at the usual 
 time, and went home. Dinner was over, and she and 
 Jem were just setting out for a walk when the old 
 white pony once more stopped at the gate, and Mr. 
 Barlow's servant called out to them, "I've come for 
 Miss Dobbs ; Missus sent me." 
 Dolly ran to the gate. 
 " John ! is she worse ? " 
 
 "Miss Dolly, jump in. She asked to see you 
 again." 
 
 ' I will follow you, Dolly, and wait about ; you'll 
 
 find me when you want me," whispered James, as he 
 
 almost lifted the frightened girl into the little carriage. 
 
 It was ten o'clock before Jem's lonely watch was
 
 232 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 over. He was just making up his mind to go up to 
 the house and ask if Dolly was to stay all night, when 
 he saw a little figure coming slowly down the hroad 
 walk. He opened the gate and went forward to meet 
 her, for he knew, rather than saw, that it was Dolly. 
 She crept up to him,, and put out her hands like a 
 child. She was not crying, hut her face was white, 
 and her eyes looked full of awe, a solemn kind of joy 
 even. 
 
 " Jem, Agatha has gone home ! " 
 
 "My poor little Dolly! I am glad you saw her 
 again." 
 
 " I 'm glad I was there. Jem, those two to see 
 them. We all stood round, and she said good-bye 
 to each, and some little fond word, hut when that was 
 done she turned her face to him and put her hand in 
 his he was kneeling beside her. And she said 
 nothing ! not one word, but they looked, and looked, 
 until she closed her eyes and sighed. And then he 
 fell down on the floor." 
 
 " It will kill him. Is he better now ? " 
 
 " Yes, and they are all very quiet. I am glad 
 thankful, to have seen this. I was so afraid of it, 
 and it was like a tired child falling asleep." 
 
 " Come home, my darling. I '11 get a cab, for you 
 are shaking so that I don't think you can walk." 
 
 "No, dear, let me walk. The cool air will do me 
 good ; my head feels heavy." 
 
 So they set out to walk home. What might have 
 been the end of the matter if they had gone in a cab 
 I do not know. 
 
 They had left the road in which Earlstown Villa 
 stood, and had to cross a street, beyond which cross-
 
 in u lit : ruu iur u doctor." 
 
 1'age 233.
 
 "AND THIS is JEM!'' 283 
 
 ing the quiet road went on again ; but the street was 
 noisy and crowded, full of small shops, and bright 
 with gaslight. Dolly, whose head was dizzy, clung 
 to her brother's arm as they set out to cross this 
 thoroughfare. A few steps down the street a crowd 
 had collected on the footpath, and many voices were 
 heard, some crying " She 's drunk, call the police ! " 
 others, " Not she, she 's in a fit; run for a doctor." 
 A policeman hurried past the two Dobbses, and the 
 crowd opened to let him see the object round which 
 it was gathered. A woman lying on the pavement : 
 some one had raised her head from the ground, and 
 as there was a flaring gas lamp just over the spot, the 
 poor white face was plainly to be seen. Dolly dropped 
 Jem's arm, looked wildly in his face for a moment, 
 and before the crowd could close in again after the 
 policeman she had darted through and fallen on her 
 knees beside the prostrate woman. Jem, who was 
 very short-sighted, really thought for a moment that 
 his sister had suddenly lost her senses, but he followed 
 her without delay. 
 
 " Jem, it is Mamma ! Jem, it is poor Mamma ; 
 is she dead ? " 
 
 James stooped, and looked incredulously at the 
 shabby, dingy dress. " It can't be," he began; but 
 then he saw the face. "It is ! " he said breath- 
 lessly. 
 
 For a few seconds no one spoke or moved. Every- 
 one was curious to know what had brought this pretty, 
 well-dressed girl on the scene, and the brother and 
 sister were too much agitated to speak. But Jem 
 recovered himself, and standing up he said quietly to 
 the policeman
 
 234 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 " This lady is my mother. I will take her home 
 with me. She has just returned from America, and 
 did not know where I live now. Get a cab as quickly 
 as you can ; I think she has only fainted." 
 
 A passing cab was quickly stopped. 
 
 " Get in, Dolly, and be ready to hold her," and 
 with the policeman's help, Jem lifted his mother in, 
 and put her into Dolly's arms. There was a minute's 
 delay, as the policeman asked Jem's name and address, 
 and then they were off. When they reached the 
 lodge, Dolly whispered 
 
 " She is recovering ; I think she moved. Carry 
 her at once into her own room, and lay her on the 
 sofa. I will soon have the bed ready, everything is 
 aired except sheets." 
 
 Dolly ran in and called Pyne to help her, but she 
 could not get the old woman to understand what she 
 wanted, perhaps because she herself was quite beyond 
 speaking plainly. 
 
 "Jem, while we get her to bed, do you warm this 
 soup. How lucky that I have some! I declare I 
 think she is half starved." 
 
 "When the soup was warm Dolly put a spoonful to 
 the white lips. At first her mother did not attempt 
 to take it, but after a little time she swallowed 
 spoonful after spoonful eagerly. Her eyes opened, 
 and with a look of painful eagerness she cried, " More, 
 more ! " When the soup was finished (Dolly gave her 
 only a little cup full, though it was hard to resist the 
 cry of "More ") she dozed off into a very fitful and 
 uneasy sleep. 
 
 That whole night did James and Dolly sit beside 
 the bed, feeding her at intervals, and giving her a
 
 "AND THIS is JEM!" 235 
 
 little wine. She never seemed to recognise them in 
 the least ; but towards morning she fell into a good 
 sound sleep, and the dreadful look of pain and terror 
 had passed away from her poor white face. 
 
 " Jem, she will do well now, I think. I can rest 
 here in the easy chair. Jem, are you not glad that 
 we finished the room before we got anything for the 
 rest of the house ? You must go to bed, dear, for 
 you will have to go to the office, I suppose ? " 
 
 " I don't think it will be open, but I may be of 
 some use, so I shall go and see. You look so tired 
 though. I wish you would rest instead of me." 
 
 "I am sure I could not sleep. Jem, such a 
 strange feeling as I got when I looked just care- 
 lessly, by accident, as you may say, for I hardly 
 knew that I looked and saw who it was." 
 
 " It is well that you have such good sight. I could 
 not have told you what they -were all doing. Poor 
 Mother, she looks half dead." 
 
 " She did ; she looks better now. If she is not quite 
 herself when she awakes you must go for Dr. Hedley, 
 but I don't think we shall want him. She looks to me 
 half starved. Oh, it makes me shiver to think of it." 
 
 "Dolly, you are worn out. Come out into the 
 kitchen, dear heart, and make some tea, and let us 
 eat something. I am really hungry, and so are you, 
 if you only knew it." 
 
 Dolly got some breakfast ready in the trim kitchen, 
 and though it was done only to please Jem, she soon 
 found that he was right, for she felt much stronger 
 when she had eaten. 
 
 " Now go to bed, dear Jem. See, it is only five, 
 and I will call you at eight."
 
 23G MHS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 When eight o'clock came she told him that her 
 mother was still asleep, but that she looked much 
 better, and more like herself. 
 
 " You must come back as soon as you can though, 
 for until she knows us, and has spoken, I cannot be 
 easy about her. Besides, she may not have been 
 alone, you know. Poor Papa ! I wonder has he 
 ventured to come ? Yet if he were with her she 
 would not be in such a wretched state. I almost 
 think she must be alone." 
 
 " I think so. I '11 come back soon ; but had I not 
 better get some brandy, or some really good wine, 
 Dolly?" 
 
 " yes. I 'm glad you thought of it." 
 
 Jem departed, and Dolly took her needlework and 
 sat beside her mother's bed to watch for her awaking. 
 With what feelings of pride and joy she glanced 
 round the really pretty room, where every article 
 represented some self-denial and a good deal of hard 
 work. How well it was that they had got it ready ! 
 how Mamma would like it ! Should she light a tiny 
 bit of fire ? it looked so nice ; but then the day was 
 not cold, and the movement might wake the sleeper. 
 How Agatha would like to hear but, oh, that 
 brought back the grief, almost forgotten in the ab- 
 sorbing interest of the night. Agatha was gone ; 
 no kind words of sympathy would she ever say again. 
 Poor Dolly ! she laid down her work and cried piti- 
 fully, till, like a child, she cried herself to sleep. Mrs. 
 Pyne looked in presently, but mother and daughter 
 were both asleep, and so the question she wanted to 
 ask about dinner must remain unasked for a time. 
 
 Mrs. Dobbs was the first to awake. Nourishment
 
 " AXD THIS is JEM!'' 237 
 
 and quiet sleep Lad brought back her scattered senses, 
 but she had hardly any remembrance of the events of 
 the night, and not the least idea as to her present 
 abode. She moaned feebly, and turned towards the 
 light, but did not open her eyes. 
 
 "I wonder where I am," she muttered. "I am 
 afraid to look. I remember I got faint and fell, I 
 was so weak. Then some one fed me, so I am in 
 some hospital or, more likely, in the workhouse. Oh, 
 to think that I should come to that !" 
 
 Determined to know the worst at once, she opened 
 her eyes and looked round. A small, but pretty 
 room, with a latticed window through which peeped 
 some late roses ; a carpet, pretty flowered chintz 
 furniture covering, crimson window curtains, a sofa, 
 an easy-chair. Ah, who was that in the easy-chair '? 
 This was no workhouse ; that was no hired nurse. 
 Who was it ? Not little Dolly ; she was not so tall 
 as this girl, her face was rounder, and she wore long 
 curls ; and yet it was Dolly after all. Mrs. Dobbs 
 sat up and cried out wildly 
 
 "Oh, Dolly, am I dreaming ? Dolly, my child ! " 
 
 Dolly opened her eyes. Yes, it was Dolly ; there 
 could be no doubt about it. It was no other than 
 Dolly, who jumped up in a moment, seized her 
 mother in her soft, warm arms, and rained kisses 
 upon her face, her hands, her hair, crying with de- 
 light all the time 
 
 " Mamma, you know me at last. Oh, dear Mamma, 
 poor little darling Mammy," and a hundred other 
 fond words. 
 
 " But you 're so thin and weak, Mamma I must 
 not go on like a fool. Lie down again, and let me
 
 238 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 go, that I may get you some breakfast, and then you 
 must tell us everything." 
 
 Before the little dainty tray was quite ready, Jem 
 came back. 
 
 " The office is shut, Dolly. I called at the house 
 to bring you word how they are. Mr. Barlow came 
 into the hall to speak to me, and they are all well. 
 He spoke so kindly of you, dear." 
 
 " Oh, I am glad you went. I have good news for 
 you, Jem. Mamma knows me. Come in and see 
 her. Carry this little kettle, dear, and I '11 bring the 
 tray." 
 
 "Why, is this Jem?" cried the weak voice. 
 " What a fine, tall man he 's grown. Dolly has 
 grown too, and looks so glad to see her poor foolisli 
 mother." 
 
 " Glad to see you, Mamma ! Why I 'm not an 
 ostrich, to care nothing for my mother. I believe it 
 is the other way though ; but never mind, I daresay 
 they don't care for any one. You must have some 
 breakfast before we ask a question." 
 
 Having eaten a good meal, Mrs. Dobbs seemed 
 wonderfully better, and began to look about her. 
 "Where am I, Dolly?" 
 
 "In your own room, Mamma; in Jem's house. 
 We furnished it for you, and no one ever used it 
 until you were carried in last night." 
 
 " Jem's house ? Then you have got on, James ? 
 You are doing well ?" 
 
 "Very well, Mother, in a small way. We have 
 plenty for you, as well as for ourselves ; we have 
 ul ways expected you." 
 
 " Plenty ! doing very well ! " murmured Mrs.
 
 "AND THIS is JEM !" 239 
 
 Dobbs. " And this is Jem ! and we always thought 
 him the dull one." 
 
 *' Well, Mother, I think you were right then. I 'm 
 no genius, and I 'm not making a fortune, you know ; 
 but God has been very good to Dolly and me, and 
 what we have we '11 share with you." 
 
 " Mamma," said Dolly, " you look stronger now, 
 and I must ask, I cannot wait any longer, where are 
 they all is there any one with you ? " 
 
 "No, my deai', I came alone. Oh, Dolly, Dolly, 
 such a story as it is to tell ! " 
 
 " My father ? " Jem said quickly. 
 
 ' lie is dead ; we think he was lost coming over to 
 ji'in us. There was a ship lost when we bad been 
 there about a year, and there was a Mr. Thomas lost 
 er. Poor Fitz made every inquiry, and was 
 fied that it was my poor Tom." 
 
 " And where te-Fitz ?" 
 
 "Oh, my dear, I've 'altogether lost sight of poor 
 Fi^r Ah, my dear, handsome boy; and he was 
 always kind. He would never have treated me as 
 Harcourt did." 
 
 " Where did you lose him, Mamma ? " 
 
 " It was not very long after he wrote to you ; your 
 answer came after he had left us. It was some busi- 
 ness matter; I did not understand it, but he and 
 Harcourt fought. Fitz said it was dishonest, and 
 Harcourt and Mr. Murray insisted, and at last they 
 offered him a sum of money to go away and break 
 the partnership. He was rather glad, I think, for 
 you know how clever he was ; and there was a com- 
 pany of actors making a tour in South America, 
 and he joined them. He is sure to be a famous
 
 240 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 man some day. He wrote once or twice, but not 
 lately." 
 
 " And the girls, Mamma ? " 
 
 " Oh, poor Mirrie, she was going to be married, 
 you know ; and to such a perfect gentleman and so 
 rich, and gave her the loveliest presents you ever saw. 
 But the day before the wedding a lady came, not that 
 she was a real lady either, but she said that she uas 
 his wife, and so she was ; he couldn't deny it. Mirrie 
 never held up her head again ; she just pined away 
 and died. Fitz was her favourite, you know ; if he 
 had been there it might have been different." 
 
 " Poor dear Mirrie ! Oh, poor thing," cried Dolly, 
 half sobbing. " And Belinda ? though I 'm getting 
 afraid to ask." 
 
 " Belinda married a man who owns a great tract of 
 country somewhere I know there are buffaloes, but 
 I never remember their queer names." (Mrs. Dobbs 
 meant the names of the places, not of the buffaloes.) 
 " We none of us liked him ; he was a coarse, rude 
 man, but Belinda said that after poor Mirrie she 'd 
 had enough of gentlemen, and even though Mirrie 
 was so ill she would not so much as wait. Mirrie 
 said one day, ' If little Dolly was here she 'd nurse 
 me.' And Mr. Low is not kind, I know. He won't 
 let her write to me now." 
 
 " Mother, how did the business go on after Fitz 
 left ? " asked James. 
 
 " The business Murray & Murray, as they called 
 it ? My dear, it ended very badly ; that Mr. Murray 
 was a dreadful man. He was indeed. They say it 
 was all a cheat, and Mr. Murray was caught, and I 
 daresay he is in prison still, but Harcourt managed
 
 "AND THIS is JEM!" 241 
 
 to get away. I'm afraid he would have left me be- 
 hind, only he pretended he was taking me to pay 
 poor Linda a visit, aad got away before the failure 
 was found out. He took me to New York, and there 
 he gave me some money, and advised me to come to 
 you ; and he left me to find my way as best I could, 
 and did not even give me enough money for my pas- 
 sage. I had to sell nearly all my clothes, and poor 
 Tom's watch that I had kept so long. And when I 
 got to Manchester, I found I had lost your letter, 
 Dolly, with your address. Still I thought I should 
 find you, because I remembered the shop Jem had 
 been in at first, but they could tell me nothing, and 
 were not very civil. All my money was gone, I was 
 really starving, children. I was asking here and 
 there in the shops, trying to find you but it was 
 well you found me, for I should soon have died 
 of it." 
 
 "It was Dolly that found you, her eyes are so 
 quick. But, Mother, why did you never write to us ? " 
 
 "Well, indeed, Jem, when everything was going 
 wrong with one after another, I was ashamed to write 
 and tell you. But, oh ! children, I will confess now, 
 once for all, that you were right when you refused to 
 come with us ! There was a curse on that money, 
 and you see the end of it." 
 
 " Dear Mamma," said Dolly, kissing her, " we '11 
 take such care of you, that you '11 forget all your suf- 
 ferings, and Fitz will come to us some day, you '11 
 find ; and we '11 write to Linda. Don't look so sad, 
 Mamma, I must go now and get one of my dresses 
 and alter it for you, until we can buy you some new 
 things. And then you '11 get up and see what a 
 
 Q
 
 242 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 pretty house and garden you have come home to, and 
 be introduced to Brisk and Mrs. Pyne." 
 
 Mrs. Dobbs was quite ready to do anything Dolly 
 wished. All spirit seemed to have been frightened 
 out of her, and she was very weak and frail. Very 
 humble and quiet, too, and touched beyond measure 
 at the sight of the room which had been prepared for 
 her, and by the gentle care which surrounded her. 
 
 " And this is Jem, my dull boy," Dolly heard her 
 mutter, when the story of their early struggles and 
 their present comfort was told her. "And this for 
 me ! and I was never good to Jem," she said. " I 
 was half-afraid of him and thought he would be no 
 credit to us. And the others, that I did love and 
 was proud of cared nothing for me. Poor Fitz was 
 kind, but he left me ; Harcourt cared only for 
 himself. I wonder why James is so different." 
 
 " Shall I tell you why, Mamma ? " 
 
 " Yes, my darling, if you can." 
 
 " Because dear old Granny used to speak to Jem 
 and me, and from the first he loved to learn from her. 
 Jem is so good ! he is a true Christian, and so he 
 tries, to be like his Lord, loving, tender, forgiving, 
 and ready to help. He never talks much ; but, 
 Mamma, Jem is so good ! As good, I think, as my 
 dear Agatha." 
 
 "Your friend, of whom you were telling me; and 
 you, Dolly, are you like Jem ? " 
 
 " I try to be. I am not so good, nor nearly, but I 
 think as he does, and I try to be good." 
 
 "I think you are good, my own darling. I have 
 been a wicked woman, Dolly; you must teach me 
 what that good woman taught you. For, oh, I see
 
 "AM> THIS is JEM!" 243 
 
 now that I have been a careless, wicked, selfish 
 woman." 
 
 Mrs. Dobbs was still so weak on the day appointed 
 for Agatha's funeral, that Dolly could not leave her. 
 Jem went alone, and came back quite overcome by 
 the sight of his friend Mr. Handcock. 
 
 " He was so quiet, you know, Dolly, and when he 
 saw me he smiled and I can't forget his face when 
 he smiled. He won't be parted from her long he 
 will soon follow her." 
 
 But Jem was mistaken. Mr. Handcock went 
 about his work again, almost at once. He was 
 graver and more silent than of old, but had still a 
 pleasant word and smile for all. His health did not 
 give way, as Jem had feared, and Jem had the hap- 
 piness of being a comfort to him in many ways. 
 There was no companion like silent, sympathising 
 Jem, with his heart in his eyes, either for a -long 
 country walk, or a turn up and down the Beech 
 Avenue. As to Jem, I think he would have died for 
 this, his first friend. 
 
 " Jem," said Dolly one day (she had been ques- 
 tioning her mother during the morning, and now 
 understood how things had happened better than in 
 the first hurried telling of them), " do you know that 
 if I had gone to San Francisco that time, when I was 
 so silly about it, I should have arrived only a month 
 or so before the quarrel with Fitz ? Oh, dear Jem, 
 what you saved me from ! " 
 
 Q 2
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOW JEM AND DOLLY PARTED AT LAST. 
 
 ERY little change took place in the cir- 
 cumstances of the inhabitants of Lord 
 Warrendale's lodge for some time after 
 the date of my last chapter. Agatha's 
 death had left Dolly free again, and her 
 mother's arrival made it convenient that 
 she should again undertake some law- 
 copying, to make their little income sufficient for 
 three people, one of them in very delicate health. 
 Mrs. Dobbs was neither fanciful nor exacting, how- 
 ever, for the poor woman had learned a useful, if 
 painful, lesson, and was most anxious to be no 
 burthen on her two good children. She was very 
 much altered in every way ; in none more than this, 
 that she shrank with evident horror from anything 
 like show or display. She dressed as plainly as 
 possible, and always in black ; she was never heard 
 to boast of her family or of her former riches, and 
 she was always ready to put her hand to whatever 
 work was going on. The word genteel was never 
 heard from her lips, to Dolly's great delight. The 
 only remains of her affectation was that she still 
 called her elder children by their adopted names, but,
 
 HOW JEM AND DOLLY PARTED AT LAST. 245 
 
 perhaps, she had forgotten that they had no right to 
 them ; Dolly certainly had forgotten it. 
 
 It was at about this time that Mr. Barlow, having 
 first ascertained that he could certainly pass the 
 necessary examination, offered to be at all the expense 
 if James wished to become a solicitor, with the 
 prospect of succeeding to the business and (probably) 
 to Lord "Warrendale's agency. James gladly accepted 
 the offer, and all the necessary formalities were duly 
 attended to. 
 
 Three very quiet years had thus passed. The only 
 member of the family from whom they ever heard 
 was Linda, and somehow they gathered from her 
 letters that she was far from happy. 
 
 One day a bright spring day Jem was busy in 
 the office. As of old, three clerks and a boy occupied 
 the other seats, but Jem sat at the centre table, and 
 ruled with authority as Mr. Gregson had ruled before 
 him. Some one rang the street-door bell, and the 
 office-boy tumbled off his high stool and clattered 
 downstairs to open the door. He came up again 
 with a grin upon his not over clean face, and said ta 
 Jem 
 
 "Mr. Dobbs, it's a person wanting to see you 
 on private business, he says. I bid him wait, for I 
 didn't think you'd want to see him. He bid me 
 say his name is Fitzgerald, and he 's a hacter, and if 
 you 're the person he wants, you '11 see him." 
 
 " Then I'm not the person he wants," said Jem, 
 hardly looking up from his work. Some mistake, 
 Price ; tell him so." 
 
 Fitzgerald ! Why did the name linger so oddly on 
 his ear ? He paused for a moment to consider this
 
 MRS. DOBBS DULL BOY. 
 
 question. Fitzgerald ! Fitz ! An actor. "\Vas it not 
 with actors that Fitz left San Francisco ? Could it 
 be Fitz ? Price, who had dismissed the shabby man, 
 who seemed so disappointed, was scandalised when 
 Jem passed him on the stairs, rushing wildly down 
 and out into the street without a hat. A few steps 
 from the door a shabby man oh, how shabby and 
 how forlorn a creature ! stopped at the sound of 
 Jem's cry and looked back. Jem was close behind 
 him. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir ; I was mistaken," said 
 James. It was not Fitz : merry, handsome, well- 
 dreased Fitz could never look like this sallow, dis- 
 reputable-looking man not even a very young man, 
 Jem thought, and garments which had once been 
 "knowing," but were now simply squalid. Yet the 
 man held out his hand and smiled. Then Jem knew 
 him. It was Fitz after all. 
 
 " Why, Jem, old fellow, don't you know me ? " 
 
 "It is really you, then ! Fitz, come in here ! 
 My dear Fitz ! Oh, what a state Dolly will be in, to 
 be sure ! Come home at once. No, I must tell Mr. 
 Barlow, and then we '11 go gome." 
 
 " Home ! that sounds pleasant, Jem." And Fitz 
 waited while his brother rushed upstairs, explained 
 to Mr. Barlow, got his hat, and rushed down again. 
 
 " I think they '11 go out of their minds at home," 
 said James. " I 'm not sure myself that I 'm not 
 dreaming. Why, Fitz, you 're lame ! how comes that ? " 
 
 " I fell through a trap, and spoiled my professional 
 career," said Fitz, with a queer smile. "But I'll 
 tell you all that presently. Tell me, do you know 
 anything of my mother ? "
 
 HOW JEM AND DOLLY PARTED AT LAST. 247 
 
 " Why, she 's at home with Dolly. You '11 see her 
 iii ten minutes. Here, cab ! Get in, Fitz. You 
 can't hurry, and I can't go slow, so we'll drive 
 home." 
 
 Fitz obeyed. Walking was evidently painful to 
 him. 
 
 " Is my mother with you and Dolly ? " 
 
 " Yes, she has lived with us for three years now." 
 
 Fitz leaned back and asked no more questions. 
 Indeed it was not easy to hear what was said, the 
 noise of the street was so great. Fitz kept glancing 
 at his brother's plain but gentleman-like garments, and 
 then at his own, feeling, if the truth must be told, a 
 little ashamed at the contrast. They stopped at the 
 great gate, and at the sound of the wheels out ran 
 Dolly. Jem jumped cut of the cab, and ran to the 
 house to prepare his mother, for whom he rather 
 dreaded any sudden shock. 
 
 " Why, Jem ! " cried Dolly, " what is the matter ? 
 Jem, comeback ! how dare you let me go!" 
 
 For Fitz had scrambled down in a violent hurry, 
 and catching Dolly in his arms, was kissing her 
 affectionately. 
 
 "Dolly! dear little Dolly why I'm Fitz, your 
 brother ! " 
 
 " Fitz ! not a bit of you ! Let me look. Yes, you 
 are. welcome home, Fitz darling ! I 'm so 
 glad so very glad ! " 
 
 " This is something like a welcome ! " Fitz said 
 with tears in his eyes. Then Mrs. Dobbs came out in 
 great excitement, and no one knew exactly how 
 they all got into the house, nor indeed that they had 
 done so, until Brisk, disgusted at the new-comer's
 
 248 MRS. DOBBS* DULL DOT. 
 
 appearance, began a fierce demonstration, and fastened 
 his teeth in the leg of Fitz's trousers. 
 
 " Come away, you bad dog," cried Dolly. " Don't 
 you see it is Fitz ? " 
 
 " Very wise dog, you mean," remarked Fitz. " He 
 thinks me a suspicious character : and what am I but 
 a vagabond ? " 
 
 " Tell us all about yourself, Fitz. How did you 
 find us out what brought you to England how are 
 you getting on as an actor where 's Harcourt ? " 
 
 " Well, Dolly, you 've grown into a woman, and 
 a good woman, I am sure, since I saw you, but 
 you have not lost all your youthful habits. How 
 many questions have you asked, all in one breath ? 
 However, they are easily answered. I know nothing 
 of Harcourt so much the better, I suspect, for there 
 is no good to be known. How am I getting on as an 
 actor? Not at all. I never got beyond being a 
 ' walking gent,' if you know what that means : and 
 since I met with an accident, and can't walk only 
 hobble I have fallen even lower in the profession." 
 
 " But, my darling boy, how does it happen that you 
 have not made a fortune on the stage ? you that are 
 so clever ! " 
 
 " Ah, Mamma ! so we all thought, and indeed I 
 think I have some brains, but not as an actor. Those 
 fellows I went off with first, helped me to spend my 
 money, flattering me all the time. I was to be a 
 second Kemble at least ; but when the money was 
 gone, they found out that they had made a mistake : 
 and so did I." 
 
 " And what did you do, Fitz ? " 
 
 " I stuck to the stage. I could earn bread and
 
 HOW JEM AND DOLLY PASTED AT LAST. 249 
 
 cheese, and I like the life, the variety, and so 
 forth. At last I wrote to Mamma, after a long 
 
 7 D 
 
 interval, and got no answer, so I took fright. I went 
 to Frisco, narrowly escaped being arrested in place of 
 Harcourt, heard how things were, and guessed that 
 Mamma would try to find you two. I found an 
 English company who wanted a walking gent, and 
 came home with them." 
 
 " And he came to me, to the office to-day," added 
 Jem. 
 
 " Yes, I found you out after no end of trouble. 
 And then the fellow wouldn't own me, and Dolly 
 screamed when I hugged her." 
 
 "To be sure I did ! I thought you were some 
 madman. Are you still with that company ? " 
 
 " No, they left Liverpool for Ireland a week ago, 
 but the manager dismissed me. I 'm no good now, 
 you know. Well, Jem, now you know my history, 
 and there," showing a small handful of silver, " is all 
 I have in the world ! You seem to have made a 
 better thing of it. Tell me your history now." 
 
 " I 've been very fortunate, and Dolly stuck to me 
 through thick and thin. Make her tell you all about 
 it. I must go back to the office for an hour or so, for 
 I ran off leaving my work half done. But you '11 stay 
 here, Fitz ? Can you make room for him, Dolly ? " 
 
 " yes. Mamma will take me in and he shall 
 have my room." 
 
 So Fitz stayed, and they fitted him out with 
 respectable clothes, and nursed him through a bad. 
 attack of feverish rheumatism. And then he borrowed 
 a small sum from James and went to London. James 
 begged him to remain, promising to give him employ-
 
 250 MRS. DOBBS* DULL BOY. 
 
 ment : but even now Fitz rebelled against "drudgery," 
 and so off he went. 
 
 In a few months he came back, in much the same 
 plight as before. His incurable lameness quite 
 unfitted him for the stage, and he had tried various 
 other modes of life with equally bad success. Jem 
 was long-suffering, however, and again Fitz was 
 nursed and petted, provided with an outfit, and 
 unwillingly allowed to depart, to return after a time 
 in the same way. 
 
 This happened several times, and it was a serious 
 drain upon Jem's slender resources : and at last he 
 rebelled. Fitz was changing, too, and not for the 
 better, he felt and beginning to shock innocent 
 Dolly by some of his wild talk. Jem felfc that it 
 could not be right to let matters go on this way, and 
 so, when once again Fitz made his appearance at the 
 lodge, Jem went off to consult his constant adviser, 
 Mr. Handcock. The curate listened to the story (of 
 which he already knew a good deal) very attentively. 
 
 " You see," said Jem, " he is really a clever fellow : 
 and yet I know he could not settle down to a life at a 
 desk like mine, you know. But I don't ask him to 
 do that. I want him to try for a place as traveller for 
 one of the great firms here. I have spoken about him 
 to Stokes, of Holmes & Stokes, you know. I've 
 obliged Stokes, and he would give Fitz a trial, but he 
 won't hear of it. And I thought I 'm not good at 
 talking but if you would come and talk to him, and 
 set it before him in a right way. He has a kind 
 heart, and he 's very fond of Dolly and my mother, 
 but he has no principle, Mr. Handcock that 's 
 the plain truth."
 
 HOW JEM AND DOLLY PARTED AT LAST. 251 
 
 " I '11 come. I will do my best, Jem. Sometimes 
 a stranger has more influence with a man like your 
 brother than his own people. At all events, you may 
 be sure that I will do my best for your brother, old 
 fellow : only don't be in a hurry, leave me to take 
 my own way." 
 
 So Mr. Handcock came to the lodge and made 
 himself very agreeable to all, but particularly to 
 Fitz. Not a word on any serious subject did he 
 say that evening, or for many another evening. Not 
 until he had won Fitz's heart did he speak, and 
 then he spoke with so much tact and kindness that 
 Fitz was quite flattered by the interest taken in 
 him. This being the story of James and Dolly, 
 and being, moreover, a story very nearly finished, I 
 must not tell you all that passed between these two. 
 It is enough to say that Mr. Handcock did succeed in 
 rousing Fitz's long dormant conscience, and in leading 
 him poor foolish fellow to the only One Who can 
 give peace to a conscience once roused. And after 
 this, Fitz was willing enough to leave his wild, idle 
 life, and work for his living in any honest way for 
 which he was fit. 
 
 Fitz got a good situation, thanks to Jem, as 
 traveller for Holmes & Stokes. He was, of course, 
 absent for weeks together, but his home was at the 
 lodge, and he seemed happy and in all respects 
 altered and improved. 
 
 Some time after this, Dolly was busy at her law- 
 copying one morning, and, as it happened, was quite 
 alone. To her surprise (for he seldom came but in the 
 evening) Mr. Handcock walked in. He seemed absent, 
 and sat silently looking about him for some time.
 
 252 MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 "Jem will be home in an hour or so," said Dolly. 
 " It is half-past t\vo, and we dine at four, you know, 
 so I hope you '11 wait to see him and have some 
 dinner. Now I '11 call Mamma, for I have put away 
 my writing." 
 
 " No, not yet, if you please. I knew I should find 
 you alone. I want to tell you something." 
 
 " Nothing bad, I hope ? Mrs. Barlow I saw her 
 yesterday?" 
 
 " She is quite well; I saw her this morning you 
 have been a great comfort to her. She is very fond 
 of you." 
 
 "And I love her dearly. Well, then, what is your 
 news, Mr. Handcock ? " 
 
 " I have had an offer made me which I should like 
 to accept. You know my lungs were not what they 
 ought to be, once upon a time. I 've out-grown it, 
 out-lived it, but still, as you know, I have to be careful. 
 And I 've always been told that a few years in a mild, 
 equable climate, would probably make me a perfectly 
 healthy man. Well, the offer I speak of is, an Arch- 
 deaconry at the Cape. It is a very good tiling in 
 every way ; plenty of work, plenty of variety, and a 
 splendid climate. As to money, I should be better 
 off at home in a few years, but I don't care about that, 
 being well off already." 
 
 " dear ! and so you will go away," cried Dolly. 
 " Well, if it is for your own good, and to do good, we 
 must not grumble ; but we shall miss you very much." 
 
 " I should miss you too much. It depends on you 
 whether I go or stay. I will go if you wish it." 
 
 " If I wish it! Why, Mr. Handcock, of course I 
 wish you to do what is best for yourself."
 
 HOW JEM AND DOLLY PARTED AT LAST. 253 
 
 " But I won't go alone, Miss Dobbs." 
 
 Dolly looked at him. 
 
 " I don't understand you a bit ! " she said. 
 
 " I 'm sure I am speaking plainly enough. You 
 wish me to go, but if I do you must go too." 
 
 " I must ! " and Dolly laughed. 
 
 She really did not understand him ; it was neither 
 affectation nor mock-modesty. She was beginning to 
 realise that his absence would make a great blank in 
 her life, but she had no idea that her absence would 
 be a grief to him. 
 
 " I don't think I could do that," she went on, 
 fancying that he was joking. 
 
 '* Well, then, I shan't go," was his reply, and he 
 looked at her over his spectacles with a laugh. 
 
 " Dolly ! " he said, " you are the most simple- 
 minded of women. I don't believe that you have a 
 scrap of self-consciousness in your composition, and 
 you are certainly not good at reading a riddle. So 
 I must speak plainly. Will you be my wife, Dolly, 
 and go with me to my new home ? I love you truly, 
 my dear, and I think I could make you love me." 
 
 Dolly had rather large eyes by nature, but the way 
 she opened them at this made her look like nothing 
 more than a young owl. 
 
 " I don't understand," she said, not believing that 
 she had heard him rightly. 
 
 " Yes, you do, Dolly. Will you say ' Yes/ and 
 make me happy ? " 
 
 " No, I won't; no, you wouldn't," said Dolly, halt 
 crying. " When I remember 
 
 " She loved you, Dolly, and you loved her. It is a 
 bond of union between us."
 
 254 MRS. DOBB'S DULL BOY. 
 
 " But I don't believe it, and I couldn't leave 
 Jem. I belong to Jem, and I could not leave 
 him." 
 
 " May I speak to Jem about it ? " said Mr. Hand- 
 cock ; but he got no answer, for Mrs. Dobbs came in 
 at that inconvenient moment with a basket of beauti- 
 ful pink fresh eggs (the hens being now her special 
 care), and while she was displaying these, and des- 
 canting on the wonderful merits of the ]hens, Dolly 
 made her escape, and Mr. Handcock soon afterwards 
 went away. 
 
 He did not wait for Dolly's leave to speak to Jem ; 
 and that evening, when Mrs. Dobbs had gone to bed, 
 Jem took the opportunity to have a talk with Dolly. 
 
 "Put away your writing, Dolly I thought you 
 were never to write in the evenings again ! " 
 
 " I have just finished ; you know you wanted this 
 paper to be ready to-morrow, and I was interrupted 
 in the morning. But, indeed, you are getting so rich 
 now, Jem, that I may soon leave off copying." 
 
 " Somehow, Dolly," said Jem with a rather sad 
 smile, " I think I shall have to look out for another 
 copying clerk. I don't expect you '11 copy much more 
 for me." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 Mr. Handcock came to me to-day at the office, and 
 spoke to me about you." 
 
 "0 Jem, weren't you surprised? but I bid him 
 not go to you at least I had not time to say that, 
 but I did not give him leave. I hardly thought he 
 was serious." 
 
 "Well I was not surprised and he was quite 
 serious. He knows what you are, Dolly. He values
 
 HOW JEM AND DOLLY PARTED AT LAST. 
 
 you as you deserve ; and I, who know you so well, 
 think him good enough for you ; even for you, my 
 darling." 
 
 "01 know he is good but Jem, I belong to you. 
 You don't want me to leave you ? I told him I could 
 not do it." 
 
 " But I want you to think about it, dear. He is 
 so good, so loveable, so clever his wife will be such 
 a happy woman, and I want you to be a happy woman, 
 Dolly. And though I shall miss you, and no one can 
 ever be what you are to me, yet you know I have 
 Mamma, and you know how good she is to me now ; 
 and she has become so strong and well that she is 
 quite able to keep house, and get on comfortably. It 
 is not like leaving me alone. You must not say ' no ' 
 on my account, dear. It would make me quite un- 
 happy." 
 
 Never had silent Jem made such an oration. 
 
 " Jem ! all the years we 've been everything to 
 each other ! How can we part ? " 
 
 " You 've been the best, dearest little sister in the 
 world, and you '11 be the best wife. I owe Handcock 
 so -much and love him so dearly that I am willing to 
 give him the best thing I have, because it will make 
 him happy and he has gone through so much sorrow." 
 
 " But you can't give me to him, unless I like to be 
 given," remarked Dolly. 
 
 "No, but if you know that you could love him, I 
 think you have no right to refuse him, Dolly. You 
 could make him happy and he has suffered so 
 much." 
 
 " Does he really want me, Jem ? " 
 
 " indeed he does, my dear. And I think well
 
 25G MRS. DOBBS' DULL BOY. 
 
 I told him to come here to-morrow, and try if you 
 had no better answer for him than you gave him 
 to-day." 
 
 Dolly argued the point much longer, and when 
 arguments were exhausted, she cried heartily, but 
 Jem saw how it would be, and the unselfish fellow 
 rejoiced greatly. And when Mr. Handcock came next 
 day, bringing a note from Mrs. Barlow to aid him in 
 pleading his cause, Dolly took back her "no " and 
 frankly said "yes." 
 
 Time has proved that Mr. Handcock chose well 
 and wisely, though his grand relations were terribly 
 disgusted at his marriage ; for Dolly is as good a 
 wife as any man could wish for. And she is a very 
 happy woman too. Mr. Handcock Archdeacon 
 Handcock I ought to say has become a perfectly 
 healthy man, and the only ungratified wish of his 
 wife's heart is to show her two pretty little girls to 
 "Uncle Jem." And, as Archdeacon and Mrs. 
 Handcock are said to be coming home for a well- 
 earned holiday, even this wish will be granted her 
 soon. And Jem, on his part, has to make Dolly 
 acquainted with the future Mrs. Jem, a nice good 
 girl, worthy to be his wife. Jem is a great man (in 
 a small way, as he says himself), for Mr. Barlow has 
 retired from business, and Jem fills his place. And 
 Mrs. Dobbs is often heard to murmur 
 
 " And we called Jem the dull boy ! " 
 
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 DICK DARLINGTON, AT HOME AND ABROAD. By A. 
 
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 FORTUNES OF HASSAN (THE). Being the strange story 
 
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 GREAT CAPTAIN (THE) : AN EVENTFUL CHAPTER IN 
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 HARRY'S DISCIPLINE. By LAURA M. LANE, author of 
 
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 HARVEY COMPTON'S HOLIDAY. By the author of" Percy 
 
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 HASSELAERS (THE) ; A TALE OF COURAGE AND EN- 
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 HER FATHER'S INHERITANCE. By CRONA TEMPLE, 
 
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 HIDDEN WORKINGS. By Miss H. R. RUSSELL, author 
 
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 HIDE AND SEEK : A STORY OF THE NEW FOREST IN 
 
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