Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Mothers and sons -- Fiction; Unmarried mothers -- Fiction; Women household employees -- Fiction
"The little dear never was well; it wouldn't surprise me a bit if it
died--went off before morning. It do look that poorly. One can't 'elp
being sorry for them, though one knows there is no 'ouse for them 'ere.
Poor little angels, and not even baptised. There's them that thinks a lot
of getting that over. But who's to baptise the little angels?"
"Baptise them?" Esther repeated. "Oh, sprinkle them, you mean. That's not
the way with the Lord's people;" and to escape from a too overpowering
reality she continued to repeat the half-forgotten patter of the Brethren,
"You must wait until it is a symbol of living faith in the Lord!" And
taking the baby in her hands for a moment, the wonder crossed her mind
whether he would ever grow up and find salvation and testify to the Lord
as an adult in voluntary baptism.
All the while Mrs. Spires was getting on with her cooking. Several times
she looked as if she were going to speak, and several times she checked
herself. In truth, she didn't know what to make of Esther. Was her love of
her child such love as would enable her to put up with all hardships for
its sake, or was it the fleeting affection of the ordinary young mother,
which, though ardent at first, gives way under difficulties? Mrs. Spires
had heard many mothers talk as Esther talked, but when the real strain of
life was put upon them they had yielded to the temptation of ridding
themselves of their burdens. So Mrs. Spires could not believe that Esther
was really different from the others, and if carefully handled she would
do what the others had done. Still, there was something in Esther which
kept Mrs. Spires from making any distinct proposal. But it were a pity to
let the girl slip through her fingers--five pounds were not picked up
every day. There were three five-pound notes in the cradles. If Esther
would listen to reason there would be twenty pounds, and the money was
wanted badly. Once more greed set Mrs. Spires' tongue flowing, and,
representing herself as a sort of guardian angel, she spoke again about
the mother of the dying child, pressing Esther to think what the girl's
circumstances would have been if they had all lived.
"And they all died?" said Esther.
"Yes, and a good job, too," said Mrs. Spires, whose temper for the moment
outsped her discretion. Was this penniless drab doing it on purpose to
annoy her? A nice one indeed to high-and-mighty it over her. She would
show her in mighty quick time she had come to the wrong shop. Just as Mrs.
Spires was about to speak out she noticed that Esther was in tears. Mrs.
Spires always looked upon tears as a good sign, so she resolved to give
her one more chance. "What are you crying about?" she said.
"Oh," said Esther, "I don't even know where I shall sleep tonight. I have
only threepence, and not a friend in the world."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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