Money had never presented itself to me in this light before; Mr.
Glaive was right; it was a thing to be desired for what it would
purchase. I took heed of his counsels, and became a speculator. The
words he had spoken to me bore other fruit besides--bitter fruit, from
the distress they caused me. I was twenty-five--not twenty--years
older than Frances, and gray hairs were multiplying fast on my head.
The thought that in a very few years my hair might be quite white,
while Frances would be still a girl, gave me unutterable pain; but I
strove to banish it from my mind. We had been married nearly six
months, and with the exception of my own self-torturings, no cloud had
appeared to darken our lives, when a circumstance occurred. As
I was going home one evening, a woman stopped me--a poor ragged
creature--and addressing me by name, begged me to assist her. During
those few months I never paused to inquire into the merits of an
appeal for charity--my own happiness pleaded for the applicants, and I
gave without question. I gave this woman a shilling, and she accepted
it thankfully enough, but with the mournful remark that it would be
gone to-morrow. That, and the circumstance of her addressing me by
name--I having no knowledge of her--interested me, and I questioned
her. She was a stranger, she said, and had but newly arrived, having
walked many weary miles. Where did she come from? I asked; and she
mentioned the town where I had first tarried and suffered after
leaving my home. She told me that she saw my name over my place of
business, and had recognised it as belonging to one who had been most
kind to a young friend she knew years and years ago, and then she
mentioned the name of the girl who had died in my arms.
'What were you?' I asked. 'I have no remembrance of you.'
'Don't ask me what I was or what I am,' she faltered; 'but if you can
assist me to lead an honest life, do so for pity's sake.'
In memory of the poor girl whom she had known, I determined to assist
this unfortunate creature--at this time a middle-aged woman--and I
obtained a respectable lodging for her at once. I told her that we
would never refer to the past, but that she should commence a new and
better life at once. And she did; and honestly fulfilled its duties.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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