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 \ 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 ! " THE, END. PUBLICATIONS OF THE for |jr0m0thtjg (Christian Most of these Works may be had in Ornamental Bindings, with Gilt Edges, at a small extra charge. s. d. AGAINST THE STREAM ; THE STORY OF AN HEROIC AGE IN ENGLAND. By the author of "The Chronicles of the Schonberg- Cotta Family," &c. With Eight full-page Illustrations on toned paper. 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