Nuttie's FatherYonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
General
Nuttie's Father
Yonge, Charlotte M. (Charlotte Mary)
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
'Our "Liz" brought it to him. Our "Liz" is a very wild specimen, who
has spent her life in eluding the school board officer till she is too
old for his clutches; but she has a soft spot in her heart for her
little brother, and I believe another for Gerard Godfrey. We must be
very cautious, and not excite any alarm, or we shall be baffled
altogether. I am not sure that I did quite prudently in giving little
Alf a fresh boat in exchange for this; but I could not help bringing it
home.'
'You did not see the girl?'
'No. Those girls wander long and late on these hot nights, and I do
not think I could have got anything out of her. I have been to Gerard
Godfrey, and the next step must be left to him.'
'The next question is whether you will tell those poor things at No.
5,' said Mark.
Mr. Dutton hesitated. 'I should have no doubt of giving Miss Egremont
the comfort of knowing that there was a possible clue, but if her
father insisted on setting on the police, there would be very little
more hope of success. I am afraid it will be more prudent to wait till
we know what Godfrey says. He hopes to see the girl to-morrow evening
at his mission class, but of course she is a very uncertain attendant
there. No, I cannot trust myself.'
Annaple was forced to brook withholding the hope from the fainting
hearts all the ensuing Sunday, which was a specially trying day, as
Nuttie pined for her dear little companion with the pictures, stories,
and hymns that he had always enjoyed, and made pretty childish remarks
about, such as she began to treasure as memorable.
As soon as he could, early on Monday morning, Mr. Dutton repaired to
Gerard Godfrey's lodgings, and found that the young clergyman had
succeeded in seeing the girl, and had examined her so as not to put the
wild creature on her guard, and make her use the weapons of falsehood
towards one who had never been looked on as an ally of the police. It
appeared that she had brought home the ship, or rather its hull, from
one of the lowest of lodging houses, where she had employment as
something between charwoman and errand girl. She had found it on what
passed for a bed in its present condition, one morning, when going to
make the extremely slight arrangements that the terrible lair, which
served as a common bedroom, underwent, and had secreted it as a prize
for her little brother.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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