Full text of "Laddie"
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LADDIE
BY
THE AUTHOR OF ««MISS TOOSEY'S MISSION"
NEW YORK: 46 East Fourteenth Street
THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.
BOSTON: 100 Purchase Street
Education
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1SS
LADDIE
CHAPTER I.
^^ Third-class forward ! Here you are, mum. Plenty
of room this way! Now then! that ain't third, that's
first. Come, look alive ! . All right behind there ? ^'
Doors bang ; a whistle ; and the train moves off.
The guard had thrust into a third-class carriage,
already nearly full, a bandbox with a blue spotted
handkerchief round it, and a bunch of Michaelmas
daisies, southernwood, and rosemary tucked under the
knot at the top ; a marketing-basket, one flap of which
was raised by a rosy-cheeked apple emitting a powerful
smell ; a bundle done up in a handkerchief of the same
pattern as that round the bandbox, only bright yellow ;
a large cotton umbrella of a pale green color, with a
decided waist to it ; and a pair of pattens ! Anything
else ? Oh, yes, of course ! there was an old woman who
belonged to the things ; but she was so small and fright-
ened and overwhelmed that she appeared quite a trifle
beside her belongings, and might easily have been over-
looked altogether. She remained just where the guard
had pushed her, standing in the carriage, clutching as
many of her things as she could keep hold of, and being
jerked by the motion of the train, now against a burly
bricklayer, and now against his red-faced wife who sat
3
279
4 LADDIE.
opposite ; while her dazzled, blinking eyes followed the
hedges and banks that whirled past, and her breath came
with a catch and a gasp every time a bridge crossed the
line, as if it were a wave coming over her. Her fellow-
travellers watched her, in silence at first, having rather
resented her entrance, as the carriage was already suffi-
ciently full ; but when a sudden lurch of the train sent
her violently forward against a woman, from whom she
carromed off against the bricklayer, and flattened her
drawn black-satin bonnet out of all shape, the man found
his tongue, which was a kind one, though slow in moving.
" Hold hard, missus ! " he said ; " we don't pay nothing
extra for sitting down, so maybe you could stow some of
them traps of yours under the seat, and make it kind of
more comfortable all round. Here, mother, lend a hand
with the old lady's things, can't you ? That's my mis-
sus, mum, that is, my better arf, as the saying is, and
no chap needn't wish for a better, though I say it as
shouldn't."
This remark produced a playful kick, and a " Get along
with you ! " from the red-faced wife, which did not show
it was taken amiss, but that she was pleased with the
delicate compliment, and she helped to arrange the
various baskets and bundles with great energy and good-
nature.
" Now that's better, ain't it ? Now you can just set
yourself down. Lor' bless the woman ! whatever is she
frightened at ? "
For the bustling arrangements were seriously alarming
to the old woman, who was not sure that a sudden move-
ment might not upset the train, or that, if she let go of
anything in an unguarded moment, she might not fall out
and be whirled off like those hurrying blackberry-bushes
or patches of chalk on the embankment j though, indeed,
LADDIE. b
it was only lier pattens and umbrella that she was clutch-
ing as her one protection. The first thing that roused
her from her daze of fear was the bricklayer's little boy
beginning to cry, or, as his mother called it, " to beller,"
in consequence of his mother's elbow coming sharply in
contact with his head; and, at the sound, the old
woman's hand let go of the umbrella and felt for the
marketing-basket, and drew out one of the powerful,
yellow apples, and held it out towards the sufferer. The
^' bellerin " stopped instantaneously at such a refreshing
sight, even while the mouth was wide open and two tears
forcing their way laboriously out of the eyes. Finding
that she could accomplish tljis gymnastic feat without
any dangerous results, the old woman seemed to gain
more confidence, seated herself more comfortably,
straightened her bonnet, smiled at the bricklayer, nod-
ded to the little boy, and, by the time the train stopped
at the next station, felt herself quite a bold and experi-
enced traveller.
" This ain't London, I take it ? " she asked, in a little,
thin, chirrupy voice.
" London ? bless you ! no. If you're bound for London
you'll have another five hours to go before you can get
there."
" Oh, yes, I know as it's a terrible long way off, but we
seemed coming along at such a pace as there wasn't no
knowing."
" You ain't used to travelling, seemings ? "
" Oh ! I've been about as much as most folks. I've
been to Martel a smartish few times when Laddie was
there, and once I went to Bristol when I was a gal keep-
ing company with my master, but that ain't yesterday,
you'll be thinking."
" Martel's a nice place, I've heard tell? "
6 LADDIE.
" So it be ; but it's a terrible big place, however."
" You'll find London a pretty sight bigger."
" I know London pretty well, though I haven't never
been there ; for Laddie, he's been up there nigh about
fifteen year, and he's told me a deal about it. I know as
it's all rubbish what folks say about the streets being
paved with gold and such like, though the young folks
do get took in; but Laddie, he says to me, * Mother,'
says he, * London is paved with hard work like any other
town; but,' he says, 'good honest work is worth its
weight in gold any day ; ' so it's something more than a
joke after all."
The old woman grew garrulous as the train rushed
along. Laddie was a subject, evidently, upon which her
tongue could not help being eloquent.
" An old hen with one chick," the bricklayer whispered
to his wife ; but they listened good-naturedly enough to
the stories of the wonderful baby, who had been larger,
fatter, and stronger than any baby before or since, who
had taken notice, begun teething, felt his feet, run off,
and said " daddy " at an incredibly early period.
Mrs. Bricklayer nodded her head and said, "Eeally
now ! " and " Well, I never ! " inwardly, however, reserv-
ing her fixed opinion that the infant bricklayers had
outdone the wonderful Laddie in every detail of baby-
hood.
rather Bricklayer could not restrain a mighty yawn
in the middle of a prolonged description of how Laddie's
gums were lanced ; but at this juncture they reached the
station which was the destination of the bricklayer and
his family, so the old woman was not wounded by the
discovery of their want of thorough interest, and she
parted from them with great regret, feeling that she had
lost some quite old friends in them. But she soon found
LADDIE. 7
another listener, and a more satisfactory one, in a young
woman, whom she had hardly noticed before, as she sat
in the opposite corner of the carriage with her head bent
down, neither speaking nor being spoken to. She had a
very young baby wrapped in her shawl ; and as one by
one the other passengers left the carriage and she was
left alone with the old woman, the two solitary creatures
drew together in the chill November twilight ; and, by
and by, the wee baby v/as in the old woman's arms, and
the young mother, almost a child herself, was telling
her sad little story and hearing Laddie's story in return.
There never had been such a son ; he had got on so won-
derfully at school, and had been a favorite with every
one, — parson and schoolmaster ; " such a headpiece the
lad had ! "
" Was Laddie his real name ? "
" Why, no ! he was christened John Clement, after his
father and mine ; but he called himself ' Laddie ' before
ever he could speak plain, and it stuck to him. His
father was for making a schoolmaster of him, but Laddie
he didn't take to that, so we sent him into Martel to the
chemist there, to be shop-boy 5 and Mr. Stokes, the gen-
tleman as keeps the shop, took to him wonderful, and
spoke of him to one and another, saying how sharp he
were, and such, till at last one of the doctors took him
up and taught him a lot ; and when he went up to
London he offered to take Laddie, and said as he'd take
all the expense, and as he'd make a man of him. He
come to see me himself, he did, and talked me over, for I
was a bit loath to let him go, for 'twas the year as the
master died \ he died just at fall and Laddie went at
Christmas, and I was feeling a bit unked and lonesome."
" Were that long ago ? "
" Yes ; 'twere a goodish time. Fifteen year come
Christmas."
8 LADDIE.
" But you'll have seen him many a time since ? "
" Well, no, I ain't. Many the time as he's been com-
ing down, but something always come between. Once he
had fixed the very day and all, and then he were called
off on business to Brighton or somewhere. That were a
terrible disappointment to the boy ; my heart were that
sore for him as I nearly forgot how much I'd been
longing for it myself."
" But he'll have wrote ? "
" Bless you, yes ! he's a terrible one for his mother, he
is. He've not written so much of late maybe ; but then
folks is that busy in London they hasn't the time to do
things as we has in the country ; but I'll warrant he've
written to me every time he had a spare moment ; and so
when I sees old Giles the postman come up, and I says,
* Anything for me, master ? ' and he says, ' Nothing for
you to-day, mum ' (for I were always respected in Sunny-
brook from a girl up), I think to myself, thinks I, 'it
ain't for want of the will as my Laddie hasn't wrote.'
And then the presents as he'd send me, bless his heart !
Bank-notes it were at first, till he found as I just paid 'em
into the bank and left 'em there ; for Avhat did I want with
bank-notes ? And then he sent me parcels of things,
silk gownds fit for a duchess, and shawls all the colors of
the rainbow, till I almost began to think he'd forgot what
sort of an old body I be. Just to think of the likes of
me in such fine feathers ! And there were flannel enough
for a big family, and blankets ; and then he sent tea and
sugar, I don't know how many pounds of it; but it were
good and no mistake, and I'd like a cup of it now for you
and me, my dear."
" And have he sent for you now to come and live with
him ? "
" No, he don't know nothing about it ; and I mean to
LADDIE. y
take him all by surprise. Old Master Heath, as my cot-
tage belongs to, died this summer ; and the man as took
his farm wants my cottage for his shepherd, and he give
me notice to quit. I felt it a bit and more, for I'd been
in that cottage thirty -five year, spring and fall, and I
knows every crack and cranny about it, and I fretted
terrible at first ; but at last I says to myself, ' Don't you
go for to fret ; go right off to Laddie, and he'll make a
home for you and glad ; ' and so I just stored my things
away and come right off."
" He've been doing well in London ? "
" Well, my Laddie's a gentleman ! He's a regular
doctor, and keeps a carriage, and has a big house and
servants. Mr. Mason, our parish doctor, says as he's
one of the first doctors in London, and that I may well
be proud of him. Bless me ! how pleased the boy will
be to see his old mother ! Maybe I shall see him walk-
ing in the streets, but if I don't I'll find his house and
creep in at the back door so as he sha'n't see me, and
tell the gal to say to the doctor (doctor, indeed ! my Lad-
die ! ) as some one wants to see him very particular.
And then " — The old woman broke down here, half-
sobbing, half -laughing, with an anticipation too tenderly,
ecstatically sweet for words. "My dear," she said, as
she wiped her brimming eyes, " I've thought of it and
dreamt of it so long, and to think as I should have lived
to see it ! "
The expectations of her travelling companion were far
less bright, though she had youth to paint the future
with bright hopes, and only nineteen winters to throw
into the picture dark shadows of foreboding. She had
been well brought up, and gone into comfortable service ;
and her life had run on in a quiet, happy course till she
met with Harry Joyce.
10 LADDIE.
" Folks says all manner of ill against him/' said the
girl's trembling voice ; " but he were always good to me.
I didn't know much about him, except as he liked me,
and I liked him dearly ; for he come from London at fair-
time, and he stopped about the place doing odd jobs, and
he come after me constant. My mistress were sore set
against him, but I were pretty near mad about him ; so
'we was married without letting any folks at home know
naught about it. Oh, yes ! we was married all right.
I've got my lines, as I could show you as there wasn't
no mistake about it ; and it were all happy enough for a
bit, and he got took on as ostler at the George ; and there
wasn't a steadier, better-behaved young feller in the
place. But, oh, dear ! it didn't last long. He came in
one day and said as how he'd lost his place, and was
going right off to London to get work there. I didn't
say never a word, but I got up and begun to put our bits
of things together ; and then he says as he'd best go first
and find a place for me, and I must go home to my
mother. I thought it would have broke my heart, I did,
to part wil;h him ; but he stuck to it, and I went home.
Our village is nigh upon eight mile from Merrifield, and
I'd never heard a word from mother since I wrote to tell
them I was wed. When I got home that day, I almost
thought as they'd have shut the door on me. A story
had got about as I wasn't married at all, and had brought
shame and trouble on my folks ; and my coming home
like that made people talk all the more, though I showed
them my lines and told my story truthful. Well, mother
took me in, and I bided there till my baby was born ;
and she and father was good to me, I'll not say as they
wasn't ; but they were always uneasy and suspicious-like
about Harry ; and I got sick of folks looking and whis-
pering, as if I ought to be ashamed when I had naught
LADDIE. 11
to be ashamed of. And I wrote to Harry more than
once to say as I'd rather come to him, if he'd a hole to
put me in ; and he always wrote to bid me bide a bit
longer, till baby come ; and then I just wrote and said I
must come anyhow, and so set off. But, oh ! I feel
skeered to think of London, and Harry maybe not glad
to see me."
It was dark by this time, and the women peering out
could often only see the reflection of their own faces in
the windows or ghostly puffs of smoke flitting past.
Now and then, little points of light in the darkness told
of homes where there were warm hearths and bright
lights ; and once, up above, a star showed, looking kindly
and home-like to the old woman. "Every bit as if it
were that very same star as comes out over the elm-tree
by the pond, but that ain't likely all this way off."
But soon the clouds covered the friendly star, and a
fine rain fell, splashing the windows with tiny drops, and
making the lights outside blurred and hazy. And then
the scattered lights drew closer together, and the houses
formed into rows, and gas lamps marked out perspective
lines ; and then there were houses bordering the line on
either side instead of banks and hedges ; and then the
train stopped, and a damp and steaming ticket-collector
opened the door, letting in a puff of fog, and demanded
the tickets, and was irritated to a great pitch of exasper-
ation by the fumbling and slowness of the two women,
who had put their tickets away in some place of extra
safety and forgotten where that place was. And then in
another minute the train was in Paddington; gas and
hurry and noise, porters, cabs, and shrieking engines, —
a nightmare, indeed, to the dazzled country eyes and the
deafened country ears.
12 LADDIE,
CHAPTER 11.
In a quiet old-fashioned street near Portman Square
there is a door with a brass plate upon it, bearing the
name " Dr. Carter." The door is not singular in possess-
ing a brass plate, for almost every house in the street
displays one, being inhabited nearly entirely by doctors
and musical professors. I do not attempt to explain why
it is so, — whether that part of London is especially un-
healthy, and so requires constant and varied medical ad-
vice, or whether there is something in the air conducive
to harmony ; or whether the musical professors attract
the doctors, or the doctors the professors, I leave to more
learned heads to discover, only hazarding the suggestion
that perhaps the highly strung musical nerves may be an
interesting study to the faculty, or that music may have
charms to soothe the savage medical breast or drive away
the evil spirits of the dissecting-room. Anyhow, the fact
remains that North Crediton Street is the resort of doc-
tors and musical men, and that on one of the doors stands
the plate of Dr. Carter.
It was an old-fashioned, substantially built house, built
about the beginning of the last century, when people
knew how to build solidly, if not beautifully. It had
good thick walls, to which you might whisper a secret
without confiding it to your next-door neighbor, and firm,
well-laid floors, on which you might dance, if you had a
mind to, without fear of descending suddenly into the
basement. There were heavy frames to the windows,
and small squares of glass, and wooden staircases with
thick, twisted banisters, — a house altogether, at which
LADDIR 13
housemaids looked with contempt, as something infinitely
less " genteel " than the " splendid mansions " of lath and
plaster, paint and gilding, which are run up with such
magic speed nowadays. We have no need to ring the
bell and disturb the soft-voiced, deferential man-servant,
out of livery, from the enjoyment of his evening paper
in the pantry, for we can pass uninvited and unannounced
into Dr. Carter's consulting-room, and take a look at it
and him. There is nothing remarkable about the room :
a book-case full of medical and scientific books ; a large
writing-table with pigeon-holes for papers and a stetho-
scope on the top ; a reading-lamp with a green shade, and
an india-rubber tube to supply it with gas from the burner
above ; a side-table with more books and papers and a
small galvanic battery ; a large india-rubber plant in the
window ; framed photographs of eminent physicians and
surgeons over the mantelpiece ; a fire burning low in the
grate ; a thick turkey carpet and heavy leather chairs ;
and there you have an inventory of the furniture, to
arrange before your mind's eye if you think it worth
while.
There is something remarkable in the man, John
Clement Carter, M.D., but I cannot give you an inven-
tory of him, or make a broker's list of eyes and forehead,
nose and mouth. He is not a regularly handsome man,
not one that a sculptor would model or an artist paint,
but his is a face that you never forget if you have once
seen it ; there is something about him that makes people
move out of his path involuntarily ; and strangers ask,
" Who is that ? " Power is stamped in his deep-set eyes
and the firm lines of mouth and chin, — power which gives
beauty even to an ugly thing, throwing a grandeur and
dignity round a black, smoky engine, or a huge, ponder-
ous steam-hammer. Indeed, power is beauty ; for there
14 LADDIE.
is no real beauty in weakness, physical or mental. His
eyes had the beauty of many doctors' eyes, — kind and
patient, from experience of human weakness and trouble
of all sorts ; keen and penetrating, as having looked
through the mists of pain and disease, searching for
hope, ay, and finding it too sometimes where other men
could only find despair ; brave and steady, as having met
death constantly face to face ; clear and good, as having
looked through the glorious glass of science, and seen,
more plainly the more he looked, the working of the
Everlasting Arms ; for surely when science brings con-
fusion and doubt, it proves that the eye of the beholder
is dim or distorted, or that he is too ignorant to use the
glass rightly. But there is a different look in his eyes
to-night; pain and trouble and weakness are far from
his thoughts ; and he is not gazing through the glass of
science, though he has a Medical Review open before him,
and a paper-knife in his hand to cut the leaves ; his eyes
have wandered to a bunch of Russian violets in a speci-
men glass on the table ; and he is looking through rose-
colored spectacles at a successful past, a satisfactory
present, and a beautiful future.
I need not tell my readers that this Dr. John Clement
Carter was the Somersetshire boy whom good Dr. Savile
had taken by the hand, and whose talents had made the
ladder which carried him up to eminence. The kind old
doctor liked to tell the story over a glass of port wine to
the friends round his shining mahogany (he was old-
fashioned, and tliought scorn of claret and dinners a la
Russe). " I was the making of the man," he would say ;
" and I'm as proud of him, by Jove ! sir, as if he were a
son of my own."
It is quite as difficult to rise in the world gracefully
as to come down ; but every one agreed that John Carter
LADDIE. 15
managed to do it, and just from this reason, that there
was no pretence about him. He did not obtrude his low
origin on every one, forcing it on people's attention with
that fidgety uneasiness which will have people know it
if they are interested in the subject or not, which is only
one remove from the unworthy pride that tries to hide it
away altogether. Neither did he boast of it as some-
thing very much to his credit ; but to any one who cared
to know he would say, " My family were poor working
people in Somersetshire, and I don't even know if I had
a grandfather ; and I owe everything to Dr. Savile."
And he would say it with a smile and a quiet manner, as
if it were nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to be
proud of, but just a fact which was hardly of interest ;
and his manner somehow made people feel that birth and
breeding were after all mere insignificant circumstances
of life, and of no account by the side of talent and suc-
cess. " He's a good fellow, John Carter, and a clever
fellow too, without any humbug about him," the men
said; and the women thought much the same, though
they expressed it differently. Indeed, the glimpse of
his early humble country life, so simply given, without
any pretence or concealment, grew to be considered an
effective, picturesque background, which showed up to
advantage his present success and dignified position. It
was quite true that there was no humbug or concealment
about him; that was the very truth he told; and yet,
somehow, as time went on, the words lost the full mean-
ing they had to him at first. Don't you know, if you use
the same words frequently they get almost mechanical ;
even in our prayers, alas ! they are no longer the expres-
sion of our feeling, but the words come first and the
feeling follows or does not follow. And then, don't
you know sometimes how we hear with other people's
16 LADDIE.
ears, and see with other people's eyes ? And so John
Carter, when he said those simple, truthful words, grew
to see the picturesque background, — the thatched cot-
tage, and the honeysuckle-covered porch, and the grand
old patriarch with white hair, one of nature's noblemen,
leaning on his staff and blessing his son ; and he grad-
ually forgot the pigsty close to the cottage door, and
father in a dirty green smock and hob-nailed boots, doing
what he called " mucking it out," and stopping to wipe
the heat from his brow with a snuffy, red cotton hand-
kerchief.
But come back from the pigsty to the violets which
are scenting the consulting-room, and luring Dr. Carter,
not unwillingly, from the Medical Review to thoughts of
the giver. Her name is Violet too, and so are her eyes,
though the long lashes throw such a shadow that you
might fancy they were black themselves. It is not every
one — indeed, it is John Carter alone — who is privileged
to look straight down into those eyes, and see the beauty
of their color; only he, poor, foolish fellow, forgets to
take advantage of his opportunity, and only notices the
great love for him that shines there and turns his brain
with happiness. His hand trembles as he stretches it to
take the specimen glass ; and the cool, fragrant flowers
lightly touch his lip as he raises them to his face.
" Pshaw ! " I hear you say, reminding me of my own
words, "there is no beauty in weakness, and this is
weakness indeed ! — a sensible man, past the heyday
and folly of youth, growing maudlin and sentimental
over a bunch of violets ! " No, reader, it is power, — the
strongest power on earth, — the power of love.
He had been used to say that his profession was his
lady-love, and he had looked on with wondering, iru^red-
ulous eyes at the follies and excesses of young lovers ;
LADDIE. 17
he was inclined to think it was a mild form of mania, and
required physical treatment. And so he reached five-
and-thirty unscathed, and slightly contemptuous of
others less fortunate than himself ; when, one day, a
girl's blue eyes, looking shyly at him through dark lashes,
brought him down once and forever from his pedestal of
fancied superiority ; and before he could collect his argu-
ments, or reason himself out of it, he was past cure,
hopelessly, helplessly, foolishly in love. They had been
engaged for two days ; it was two days since this clever
young doctor, this rising, successful man, with such
stores of learning, such a solid intellect, such a cool, calm
brain, had stood blushing and stammering before a girl
of eighteen. If I were to write down the words he said,
you would think my hero an idiot pure and simple ; the
most mawkish and feeble twaddle of the most debased of
penny periodicals was vastly superior to what Dr. Carter
stammered out that day. But is not this generally the
case ? Beautiful, poetical love-scenes are frequent in
plays and books, but very rare in real life. There is not
one love-scene in a thousand that would bear being taken
down in shorthand, printed in plain, black type, and
read by critical eyes through commonplace spectacles.
Nevertheless, the feelings are no doubt sublime, though
the words may be ridiculous. He was quite another man
altogether (happily for him) when he went to Sir John
Meredith, and told him plainly that he was no match for
his daughter as far as birth went.
" My good fellow," the sensible little baronet answered,
" there are only about ten families in England that can
put their pedigree by the side of the Merediths, and it
don't seem to me to make much difference, if you rise
from the ranks yourself, or if your father or grandfather
did it."
18 LADDIE.
" I can scarcely claim even to be a gentleman," the
young man went on, feeling pretty sure of success by
that time.
"Not another word, my dear boy ; not another word !
I respect your candor, and I esteem you very highly as
an honest man, — the noblest work of God, you know,
eh ? — though I'd like to hear any one say that you were
not a gentleman as well. There, go along ! shake hands !
God bless you ! You'll find Violet in the drawing-room.
Sly little puss ! but I saw what was coming — and mind
you dine with us this evening at seven sharp — old-fash-
ioned folk, old-fashioned hours."
I think the wary baronet also respected Dr. Carter's
income, and esteemed very highly his success, and hav-
ing weighed the advantages of family and birth against
success and income, had found that the latter were the
more substantial in the worldly scales.
And so Dr. Carter was dreaming rosy dreams that
evening in his quiet room, as was fit and proper after
two days' wandering in fairyland with Violet Meredith.
But as the scent of the violets had led him to think of
the giver, so it drew his thoughts away from her again
back to springtime many years ago at Sunny brook, and
the bank where the earliest violets grew in the sheltered
lane leading to the Croft Farm. Did ever violets smell
so sweet as those ? He remembered one afternoon, after
school, going to fetch the milk from the farm, and the
scent luring him across the little runlet by the side of
the path, which was swollen into a small, brawling brook
by the lately thawed snow. He set down the can safely
before he made the venture ; and Dr. Carter laughed
softly to himself to think how short and fat the legs
were that found the little stream such a mighty stride.
He was busy diving for the flowers among the layers of
LADDIE. 19
dead elrri-leaves, which the blustering autumn winds had
blown there, when a sound behind him caused him to
look round, and there was the can upset, and the young
foxhound quartered at the Croft licking up the white
pool from the pebbles. In his anger and fear and
haste, he slipped as he tried to jump back, and went full
length into the stream, and scrambled out in a sad plight,
and went home crying bitterly, with a very wet pinafore,
and dirty face, and empty milk-can, with the cause of
his mishap, the sweet violets, still clasped unconsciously
in his little scratched hand. And his mother — ah ! she
was always a good mother ! He could remember still
the comforting feeling of mother's apron wiping away
dirt and tears, and the sound of her voice bidding him
" Never mind ! and hush up like a good little Laddie."
His heart felt very warm just then towards that mother
of his ; and he made up his mind that, cost what trouble
it might, he would go down and see her before he was
married, if it^ere only for an hour or two, just to make
sure that she was comfortable, and not working about
and wearing herself out. His conscience pricked him a
little at the thought of what a pleasure the sight of him
would have been to the old woman, and how year after
year had slipped away without his going down. But
still a comforting voice told him that he had been sub-
stantially a good son, and it was accident and not inten-
tion that had kept him away. "Anyhow," he said to
himself, " another month shall not pass without my seeing
my mother."
At this moment the deferential man knocKcd at the
door and aroused Dr. Carter to the consciousness of how
far his wandering thoughts had carried him from his
consulting-room and Medical Review.
"What is it, Hyder?"
20 LADDIE.
" Please, sir, there's some one wishes to see you. I
told her it was too late, and you was engaged very par-
ticular, but she wouldn't be put off nohow, sir."
" What is her name ? "
There was a slight smile disturbing the usually unruf-
fled serenity of Mr. Hyder's face, as if he had a lingering
remembrance of something amusing.
" She didn't give no name, sir, and she wouldn't say
what she wanted, though I asked if a message wouldn't
do ; but she said her business was too particular for that,
sir."
" What sort of person is she ? "
The corners of the man's mouth twitched, and he had
to give a little cough to conceal an incipient chuckle.
" Beg your pardon, sir. She appears to be from the
country, sir. Quite a countrified, homely old body, sir."
Perhaps the odor of the violets and the country mem-
ories they had called up made him more amiably in-
clined; but instead of the sharp, decided refusal the
servant expected, " Tell her it is long past my time for
seeing patients, and I am busy, and she must call again
to-morrow," he said, " Well, show her in ; " and the man
withdrew in surprise.
" Countrified, homely old body." Somehow the de-
scription brought back to his mind his mother coming
down the brick path from the door at home, with her
Sunday bonnet on, and her pattens in her hand, and
the heavy-headed double stocks and columbines tapping
against her short petticoats. The doctor smiled to him-
self ; and even while he smiled the door was pushed
open, and before him he saw, with a background of the
gas-lit hall and the respectful Hyder, by this time devel-
oped into an incontrollable grin, his mother, in her Sun-
day bonnet and with her pattens in her hand.
LADDIE. 21
CHAPTER III.
Reader, think of some lovely picture of rustic life^
with tender lights and pleasant shadows, with hard lines
softened, and sharp angles touched into gentle curves,
with a background of picturesque, satisfying appropriate-
ness, with the magic touches that bring out the beauty
and refinement and elegance of the scene, which are
really there, and that subtly tone down all the roughness
and awkwardness and coarseness, which are also equally
there. And then, imagine it, if you can, changing under
your very eyes, with glaring lights and heavy shadows
deepening and sharpening and hardening wrinkles and
angles and lines, exaggerating defects, bringing coarse-
ness and age and ugliness into painful prominence, and
taking away^at a sweep the pretty, rural background
which might have relieved and soothed the eye, and put-
ting a dull, commonplace, incongruous one in its place.
It was something of this sort that happened to John
Carter that night, when the picture he had been painting
with the sweet lights of love and childhood's fancies, and
the tender shadows of memory throwing over it all soft
tones of long ago and far away, suddenly stood before
him in unvarnished reality, with all the glamour taken
away, an every-day fact in his present London life.
I am glad to write it of him, that, for the first minute,
pleasure was the uppermost feeling in his mind. First
thoughts are often the best and purest. He started up,
saying, " Mother ! why, mother ! " in the same tone of
glad surprise as he would have done fifteen years before
if she had come unexpectedly into the shop at Martel ;
22 LADDIE.
he did not even think if the door were closed, or what
Mr. Ilyder would think ; he did not notice that she was
crumpled and dirty with travel, or that she put her pat-
tens down on his open book and upset the glass of vio-
lets ; he just took hold , of her trembling, hard-worked
hands, and kissed her furrowed old cheek, wet with
tears of unutterable joy, and repeated, "Mother! why,
mother ! "
I am glad to write it of him ; glad that she had that
great happiness, realizing the hopes and longings of years
past, consoling in days to come when she had to turn
back to the past for comfort, or forward to the time of
perfect satisfaction. There are these exquisite moments
in life, let people say what they will of the disappoint-
ments and vanity of the world, when hope is realized,
desire fulfilled ; but it is just for a moment, no more, —
just a foretaste of the joys that shall be hereafter, when
every moment of the long years of eternity will be still
more full and perfect, when we shall " wake up " and
" be satisfied."
She was clinging meanwhile to his arm, sobbing out,
" Laddie, my boy. Laddie ! " with her eyes too dim with
tears to see his face clearly, or to notice how tall and
grand and handsome her boy was grown, and what a
gentleman. Presently, when she was seated in the arm-
chair, and had got her breath again, and wiped her foolish
old eyes, she was able to hunt in her capacious pocket
for the silver-rimmed spectacles that had descended from
her father, old Master Pullen in the almshouse, and that
Laddie remembered well, as being kept in the old family
Bible, and brought out with great pomp and ceremony on
Sunday evenings.
" I must have a good look at you. Laddie boy," she
said.
LADDIE. 23
And then I think her good angel must have spread his
soft wing between the mother and son (though to her
mind it seemed only like another tear dimming her sight,
with a rainbow light on it), to keep her from seeing the
look that was marring that son's face. All the pleasure
was gone, and embarrassment and disqmet had taken its
place.
" However did you come, mother ? " he said, trying his
best to keep a certain hardness and irritation out of his
voice.
" I come by the train, dear," the old woman answered ;
" and it did terrify me more nor a bit at first, I'll not go
for to deny ; but, bless you ! I soon got over it, and them
trains is handy sort of things when you gets used to 'em.
I was a good deal put to though when we got to London
station, there seemed such a many folks about, and they
did push and hurry a body so. I don't know whatever I
should adone if a gentleman hadn't come and asked me
where I wanted to get to. He were a tallish man with
whiskers, a bit like Mr. Jones over at Martel, and I dare
say you knows him ; but he were terrible kind however."
John Carter did not stop to explain that there were
many tallish men with whiskers in London.
" Why didn't you write and say you were coming ? "
" Well, there ! I thought as I'd give you a surprise ;
and I knew as you'd be worrying about the journey and
thinking as I'd not be able to manage ; but I'm not such
a helpless old body, after all. Laddie."
" Whom have you left in charge of the cottage ? "
" Why, I've give it up altogether. Farmer Harris, he
wanted it for his shepherd, and he give me notice. That's
why I come all on a sudden like. I says to myself, says
I, Laddie's got a home and a welcome for his old mother,
and it's only because he thought as I was pretty nearly
24 LADDIE.
growed to the old place, and couldn't abear to leave it,
that he ain't said as I must come and keep house for him
long ago. But, bless you ! I've been thinking so of the
pleasure of seeing you again that I've pretty nearly forgot
as I was leaving my master's grave and all."
" And when niust you go back ? "
^' Not till you gets tired of me. Laddie, or till you
takes me to lay me by the old master ; for I'd like to lay
there, if so be as you can manage it, for I've heard tell
as it costs a mort of money buryin' folks out of the
parish as they dies in, and maybe it mightn't be just
convenient to you."
John Carter busied himself with making the lire burn
up into a blaze, while liis mother rambled on, telling him
little bits of village gossip about people he had long since
forgotten or never heard of; or describing her journey,
which was a far greater exploit in the old woman's eyes
than Lieutenant Cameron's walk across Africa ; or dwell-
ing on the delight of seeing him again. He paid little
heed to what she said, pretending to be intent on placing
a refractory piece of coal in a certain position, or coaxing
an uncertain little flame into steadiness ; but his head
was busy trying to form some plan for getting himself
out of his difficult position. He did not want to hurt
her, or to be unkind in any way ; but it was altogether
out of the question having her there to live with him.
It Avould ruin all his prospects in life, his position in
his profession and in society ; as to his engagement,
he did not venture to allow himself even to think of
Violet just then. He knew some doctors whose mothers
lived with them, and kept house for them, received
their guests, and sat at the head of their table, but
they were ladies, very different. The very idea of his
mother with three or four servants under her was au
LADDIE. 25
absurdity. And this thought brought Hyder's grin
before his mind. What had happened when his mother
arrived? Had she committed herself and him fright-
fully by her behavior ? ISTo doubt that impudent rascal
was giving a highly facetious account of it all to
the maids in the kitchen. Chattering magpies ! And
how they would pass it on ! How Mary Jane would
describe it through the area gate to the milk-woman next
morning, and cook add a pointed word or two from the
front steps as she cleaned them ! . He could almost smell
the wet hearthstone and hear the clinking of the tin
milk-pails as Biddy hooked them to the yoke and passed
on with the story of his degradation. And he could
fancy what a choice morsel it would make for Hyder to
tell Sir John Meredith's solemn, red-nosed butler, behind
his hand, in a hoarse whisper, with winks to emphasize
strong points, and an occasional jerk of the thumb over
the shoulder and a careful avoidance of names. This
thought wa^oo much for his feelings, and the tongs went
down with an ominous clatter into the fender, making the
old woman jump nearly off her chair, and cutting short
a story about the distemper among Squire Wellow's
pigs.
" There ; it brought my heart into my mouth, pretty
near, and set me all of a tremble. I reckon as I'm a
little bit tired, and it have shook up my nerves like, and
a little do terrify one so."
The sight of her white, trembling old face touched his
son's and doctor's heart under the fine, closely woven,
well-cut coat of fine gentlemanliness and worldly wisdom
which he was buttoning so closely round him.
" You are quite tired out, mother," he said ; " you shall
have some tea and go to bed. I can't have you laid up,
you know,"
26 LADDIE.
" There now ! if I wasn't thinking as a dish of tea
would be the nicest thing in the world ! and for you to
think of it ! Ah ! you remembers what your mother
likes, bless you ! "
In that moment he had quickly made up his mind that
at any rate it was too late for that night to do anything
but just make her comfortable ; to-morrow something
must be done without delay ; but there was ten striking,
and she was evidently quite worn out. He must say
something to silence those jays of servants and get her
off to bed, and then he could sit down and arrange his
plans quietly ; for the suddenness of the emergency had
confused and muddled him.
" I'll tell them to get some tea," he said, " you sit still
and rest." And then he rang the bell decidedly and went
out into the hall, closing the doors behind him. He had
never felt so self-conscious and uncomfortable as when
the man-servant came up the kitchen stairs and stood as
deferentially as ever before him. He felt as if he had
not got entire control of voice, eyes, or hands. His eyes
seemed to avoid looking at the man's face in spite of him,
and his voice tried hard to be apologetic and entreating
of its own accord. That would never do. He thrust his
obtrusive hands into his pockets, and drew up his head,
and looked sharply at the man straight in the eyes with
a " fight you for 2d." expression, or " every bit as if I
owed him a quarter's rent," as Hyder said afterwards;
and he spoke in a commanding, bullying tone, very unlike
his usual courteous behavior to servants, imagining that
by this he conveyed to the man's mind that he was quite
at his ease, and that nothing unusual had happened.
" Look here," he said, " I want tea at once in the dining-
room, and tell cook to send up some cold meat. I suppose
it's too late for cutlets or anything like that ? "
LADDIE. 27
^' Is the lady going to stop the night, sir ? ^'
The words stung Dr. Carter so, that he would have
liked to have kicked the man down the kitchen stairs,
but he luckily restrained himself.
" Yes, she is. The best bedroom must be got ready,
and a fire lighted, and everything made as comfortable
as possible. Do you hear ? "
" Yes, sir." The man hesitated a second to see if there
were any further orders, and Dr. Carter half turned, look-
ing another way, as he added, " She is a very old friend
and nurse of mine when I was a child, and I want her
to be made comfortable. She will only be here this one
night."
He felt as he turned the handle of the consulting-room
door that he had really done it rather well on the whole,
and carried it off with a high hand, and not told any
falsehood after all, for was not she his oldest friend and
his most natural nurse ? In reality he had never looked
less like a gentleman, and Hyder saw it too.
They say a man is never a hero to his own valet. I do
not know if this includes men-servants in general ; but
certain it is that, up to this time. Dr. Carter had kept
the respect of his servant. " I know as he ain't a swell,"
Mr. Hyder would say to the coterie of footmen who met
in the bar of the snug little " public " round the corner ;
" but for all that he ain't a bad master neither 5 and as
far as my experience serves, he's as good a gent as any
of them, and better any day than them dandy, half-pay
captings as locks up their wine and cigars, and sells their
old clothes, and keeps their men on scraps, and cusses
and swears as if they was made of nothing else."
But as Hyder went to his pantry that night, he shook
his head with a face of supreme disgust. " That's what
I call nasty ! " he said, " I'm disappointed in that man.
28 LADDIE.
I thought better of him than this comes to. Well, well !
blood tells after all. What's bred in the bone will come
out in the flesh sooner or later. Nurse indeed ! Get
along ! you don't humbug me, my gent ! "
There were no signs, however, of these moralizings in
the pantry, or the fuller discussion that followed in the
kitchen, when he announced that supper was ready.
" Do ye have your victuals in the kitchen now. Laddie ? "
the old woman said. " Well, there ! it is the most com-
fortable to my thinking, though gentle-folks do live in
their best parlors constant."
Hyder discreetly drew back, and Dr. Carter whispered
with a crimson flush all over his face, " Hush, we'll have
our talk when this fellow is out of the way. Don't say
anything till then."
The old woman looked much surprised, but at last con-
cluded that there was something mysterious against the
character of " the very civil-spoken young man as opened
the door," and so she kept silence while her son led her
into the dining-room, where tea was spread, with what
appeared to the old woman royal magnificence of white
damask and shining silver.
"You can go," the doctor said. "I will ring if we want
anything."
" He don't look such a baddish sort of young man," she
said, when the door closed behind the observant Hyder ;
" and he seems to mind what you says pretty sharp. I
thought as he was a gent hisself Avlien he opened the
door, as he hadn't got red breeches or gaiters or nothing ;
but I suppose you will put him into livery by and
by?"
" Now, mother, you must have some tea. And you are
not to talk till you have eaten something. Here ! I'll
pour out the tea." For the glories of the silver teapot
LAi)Dm. 29
were drawing her attention from its reviving contents.
" I hope they have made it good. Ah ! I remember well
what tea you used to make in that little brown teapot at
home." It was very easy and pleasant to be kind to her,
and make much of her now, when no one else was there.
He enjoyed waiting on her, and seeing her brighten up
and revive under the combined influence of food and
warmth and kindness. He liked to hear her admire and
wonder at everything, and he laughed naturally and boy-
ishly at her odd little innocent remarks. If they two
could have been always alone together, with no spying
eyes and spiteful tongues, it would have been all right
and pleasant, but as it was, it was quite impossible, and
out of the question.
" It ain't the teapot. Laddie, as does it. It's just to
let it stand till it's drawed thorough and no longer. Put
it on the hob for ten minutes, say I, but that's enough.
I don't like stewed tea, and moreover it ain't wholesome
neither. ThiS is a fine room. Laddie, and no mistake.
Why, the parson ain't got one to hold a candle to it. I'd
just like some of the Sunnybrook folk to have a look at
it. It would make them open their eyes wide, I warrant !
— to see me a-setting here like a lady, with this here car-
pet as soft as anything, and them curtains, and pictures,
and all ! I wonder whatever they would say if they
could see ? I suppose now, as there's a washus or a
place out behind somewheres for them servants ? "
Dr. Carter laughed at the idea of Mrs. Treasure the
cook, and the two smart housemaids, let alone Mr.
Hyder, being consigned to a wash-house at the back;
and he explained the basement arrangements.
" Underground. Well ! I never did ! But I think I've
heard tell of underground kitchens before, but I never
would believe it. It must be terrible dark for the poor
30 LADBIB.
things, and damp moreover ; and how poor, silly gals is
always worriting to get places in London, passes me ! "
Presently, when they had done tea, and gone back into
the consulting-room, when the old woman was seated in
the arm-chair, with her feet on the fender, and her gown
turned up over her knees. Dr. Carter drew his chair up
near hers, and prepared for his difficult task.
" Mother," he said, laying one of his hands caressingly
on her arm (he was proud of his hands, — it was one of
his weaknesses that they were gentleman's hands, white
and well shaped, and there was a plain gold strap-ring
on the little finger, which hit exactly the right medium
between severity and display, as a gentleman's ring
should), — " Mother, I wish you had written to tell me
you were coming."
She took his hand between both her own, hard and
horny, with the veins standing up like cord on the backs,
rough and misshapen with years of hard work, but with
a world of tender mother's love in every touch, that made
his words stick in his throat and nearly choke him.
" I knew as you'd be pleased to see me. Laddie, come
when I might or how I might."
" Of course I'm glad to see you, mother, very glad ; and
I was thinking just before you came in that I would run
down to Sunny brook to see you just before Christmas."
And then he went on to explain how different London
life was to that at Sunnybrook, and how she would never
get used to it or feel happy there, talking quickly and
wrapping up his meaning in so many words and elabora-
tions that at the end of half an hour the old woman had
no more idea of what he meant than she had at the begin-
ning, and was fairly mystified. She had a strange way,
too, of upsetting all his skilful arguments with a simple
word or two.
LADDIU. 81
" Different from Sunnybrook ? Yes, sure ; but sbe'd
get used to it like other folks. Not bappy ? Why she'd
be happy anywheres with her Laddie. There, don't you
fret yourself about me ; as long as you're comfortable I
don't mind nothing."
How could he make her understand and see the gulf
that lay between them, — her life and his ? It needed
much plainer speaking ; a spade must be called a spade ;
and, somehow, it looked a very much more ugly spade
when it was so called. How soon did she catch his
meaning ? He hardly knew, for he could not bear to
look into her face, and see the smile fade from her lips
and the brightness from her eyes. He only felt her hand
suddenly clasp his more tightly, as if he had tried to draw
it away from her ; and she grew silent, while he talked
on quickly and nervously, telling her they would go to-
gether to-morrow and find a little snug cottage not far
from London, with everything pretty and comfortable
that heart 6ould wish for, and a little maid to do the
work, so that she need never lay her hand to anything ;
and how he would come to see her often, very often, per-
haps once a week. Still never a word for or against, of
pleasure or of pain, till he said, —
" You would like it, mother, wouldn't you ? ''
And then she answered slowly and faintly, —
" I'm aweary. Laddie, too tired like for new plans ; and
maybe, dearie, too old."
" You must go to bed," he said, with a burst of over-
whelming compunction. " I ought not to have let you
stop up like this. I should have kept what I had to say
till to-morrow when you were rested. Come, think no
more of it to-night, everything will look brighter to-
morrow. I'll show you your bedroom."
And so he took her up-stairs, such a lot of stairs to the
32 LADDIE.
old country legs ; but her curiosity overcame her fatigue
sufficiently to make her peep into the double drawing-
room where the gas-lamp in the street threw weird lights
and shadows on the ceiling, and touched unexpectedly
on parts of mirrors or gilded cornices, giving a mysteri-
ous effect to the groups of furniture and the chandelier
hanging in its holland covering.
" 'Tis mighty fine ! '' she said, " but an unked place to
my mind ; like a churchyard somat."
Her bedroom did not look " unked," however, with a
bright fire burning, and the inviting chintz-curtained bed
and the crisp muslin-covered toilet-table, with two can-
dles lighted. In the large looking-glass on the toilet-
table, the figure of the little old woman was reflected
among the elegant comfort of the room, looking all the
more small and shabby and old, and out of place in
contrast with her surroundings.
^' Now make haste to bed, there's a good old mother ;
my room is next to this if you want anything, and I shall
soon come up to bed. I hope you'll be very comfortable.
Good-night."
And then he left her with a kiss ; and she stood for
some minutes quite still, looking at the scene reflected
in the glass before her, peering curiously and attentively
at it.
"And so Laddie is ashamed of his old mother," she
said softly, with a little sigh ; " and it ain't no wonder ! "
As Dr. Carter sat down again in his consulting-room
by himself, he told himself that he had done wisely,
though he had felt and inflicted pain, and still felt very
sore and ruffled. But it was wisest, and practically kind-
est and best for her in the end, more surely for her hap-
piness and comfort ; so there was no need to regret it, or
for that tiresome little feeling in one corner of his heart
LADDIE. 33
that seemed almost like remorse. This is no story-book
world of chivalry, romance, and poetry ; and to get on in
it you must just lay aside sentimental fancies and act by
the light of reason and common-sense. And then he
settled down to arrange the details of to-morrow's plans,
and jotted down on a piece of paper a few memoranda of
suitable places, times of trains, etc., and resolved that he
would spare no pains or expense in making her thor-
oughly comfortable. He even wrote a note or two to put
off some appointments, and felt quite gratified with the
idea that he was sacrificing something on his mother's
account. The clock struck two as he rose to go up to
bed ; and he went up feeling much more composed and
satisfied with himself, having pretty successfully argued
and reasoned down his troublesome, morbid misgivings.
lie listened at his mother's door, but all was quiet ; and
he made haste into bed himself, feeling he had gone
through a good deal that day.
He was just turning over to sleep when his door opened
softly, and his mother came in, — such a queer, funny,
old figure, with a shawl wrapped round her and a very
large nightcap on, — one of the old-fashioned sort, with
very broad, flapping frills. She had a candle in her
hand, and set it down on the table by his bed. He
jumped up as she came in.
" Why, mother, what's the matter ? Not in bed ? Are
you ill?"
" There, there ! lie down ; there ain't nothing wrong.
But I've been listening for ye this long time. 'Tis fifteen
year and more since I tucked you up in bed, and you used
to say as you never slej^t so sweet when I didn't do it."
She made him lie down, and smoothed his pillow, and'
brushed his hair off his forehead, and tucked the clothes
round him, and kissed him as she spoke.
S4 LADDIE.
" And I thought as I'd like to do it for yon once more.
Good-night, Laddie, good-night."
And then she went away quickly, and did not hear
him call, " Mother ! mother ! " after her ; for the care-
fully tucked-in clothes were flung off, and Laddie was out
of bed with his hand on the handle of the door, and then,
— second thoughts being cooler, if not better, — " She
had better sleep," Dr. Carter said, and got back into bed.
But sleep did not come at his call. He tossed about
feverishly and restlessly, with his mind tossing hither
and thither as much as his body, the strong wind of his
pride and will blowing against the running tide of his
love and conscience, and making a rough sea between
them, which would not allow of any repose. And which
of them was the strongest ? After long and fierce debate
with himself, he came to a conclusion which at all events
brought peace along with it. " Come what may," he said,
" I will keep my mother with me, let people say or think
what they will, — even if it costs me Violet herself, as
most likely it will. I can't turn my mother out in her
old age, so there's an end of it." And there and then he
went to sleep.
It must have been soon after this that he woke with a
start, with a sound in his ears like the shutting of the
street-door. It was still quite dark, night to Londoners,
morning to country people, who were already going to
their work and labor ; and Dr. Carter turned himself
over and went to sleep again, saying, " It was my fancy
or a dream ; " while his old mother stood shivering in
the cold November morning outside his door, murmur-
ing,—
" I'll never be a shame to my boy, my Laddie ; God
bless him I"
LADDIE. 85
CHAPTER IV.
When Dr. Carter opened his door next morning, he
found his mother's room empty, and it seemed almost as
if the events of the night before had been a bad dream ;
only the basket of apples, and the bandbox, still tied up
in the spotted handkerchief, confirmed his recollections ;
and when he went down, the pattens, still on his writing-
table, added their testimony. But where was his mother ?
All the servants could tell him was that they had found
her bedroom door open when they came down in the
morning, and the front door unbarred and unbolted, and
that was all.
" She has gone back to Sunnybrook,'' he said to him-
self, with "^ very sore heart. " She saw what a miser-
able, base-heayted cur of a son she had, who grudged a
welcome and a shelter to her who would have given her
right hand to keep my little finger from aching. God
forgive me for wounding the brave old heart ! I will go
and bring her back. She will be ready to forgive me
nearly before I speak."
He looked at the train paper, and found there was an
early, slow train by which his mother must have gone,
and an express that would start in about an hour, and
reach Martel only a quarter of an hour after the slower
one. This just gave him time to make arrangements for
his engagements, and write a line to Violet, saying he
was unexpectedly called away from London, but that he
would come to her immediately on his return, for he had
much. to tell and explain. The cab was at the door to
take him to the station, and everything was ready, and
he was giving his last directions to Mr. Hyder,
36 LADDIE.
" I shall be back to-morrow, Hyder, without fail, and
I shall bring my mother with me." He brought out the
word even now with an effort, and hated himself for the
flush that came up into his face ; but he went on lirmly,
" That was my mother who was here last night, and no
man ever had a better."
I don't know how it happened, but everything seemed
topsy-turvey that morning ; for all at once Dr. Carter
found himself shaking hands with Hyder before he knew
what he was about ; and the deferential, polite Hyder,
whose respect had always been slightly tinged with con-
tempt, was saying, with tears in his eyes, " Indeed, sir, I
see that all along ; and I don't think none the worse of
you, but a deal the better, for saying it out like a man ;
and me and cook and the gals will do our best to make
the old lady comfortable, that we will ! "
Dr. Carter felt a strange, dream-like feeling as he got
into the cab. Every one and everything seemed changed,
and he could not make it out ; even Hyder seemed some-
thing more than an excellent servant. It was quite a
relief to his mind, on his return next day, to find Hyder
the same imperturbable person as before, and the little
episode of hand-shaking and expressed sympathy not
become a confirmed habit. It was a trifling relief even
in the midst of his anxiety and disappointment ; for he
did not find his mother at Sunnybrook, nor did she
arrive by either of the trains that followed the one he
came by, though he waited the arrival of several at Mar-
tel. So he came back to London, feeling that he had
gone on the wrong tack, but comforting himself with
the thought that he would soon be able to trace her out
wherever she had gone. But it was not so easy as he
expected; the most artful and experienced criminal,
escaping from justice, could not have gone to work more
LADDIE. 37
skilfully than the old woman did quite unconsciously.
All his inquiries were fruitless ; she had not been seen or
noticed at Paddington, none of the houses or shops about
had been ox^en or astir at that early morning hour. Once
he thought he had a clew, but it came to nothing ; and,
tired and dispirited, he was obliged, very unwillingly, to
put the matter into the hands of the police, who undertook
with great confidence to find the old woman before
another day was past.
It was with a very haggard, anxious face that he came
into the pretty drawing-room in Harley Street, where
Violet sprang up from her low chair by the fire, to meet
him. How pretty she was ! how sweet ! how elegant
and graceful every movement and look, every detail of
her dress ! His eyes took in every beauty lovingly, as
one who looks his last on something dearer than life, and
then lost all consciousness of any other beauty, in the
surpassing beauty of the love for him in her eyes. She
stretched out,,both her soft hands to him, with the ring
he had given her the only ornament on them, and said,
" Tell me about it."
Do not you know some voices that have a caress in
every word and a comfort in every tone ? Violet
Meredith's was such a voice.
" I have come for that," he said ; and he would not
trust himself to take those hands in his, or to look any
longer into her face ; but he went to the fire and looked
into the red caves among the glowing coals. " I have
come to tell you about my mother. I have deceived you
shamefully."
And then he told her of his mother, describing her as
plainly and carefully as he could, trying to set aside
everything fanciful or picturesque, and yet do justice to
the kindj simple, old heart, trying to make Violet see the
38 LADDIE.
great difference between the old countrywoman and her-
self. And then he told her of her having come to him,
to end her days under her son's roof. " I could not ask
you to live with her/' he ended sadly.
She had clasped her hands round his arm shyly, for it
was only a few days since she had had to hide away her
love, like a stolen treasure, out of sight.
" It is too late to think of that," she said, with a little
coaxing laugh ; " too late, for you asked me to be your
wife a week ago. Yes, John," — the name came still
with a little hesitation, — "a whole week ago, and I will
not let you off. And then I have no mother of my own ;
she died before I can remember ; and it will be so nice
to have one, for she will like me for your sake, won't
she ? And what does it matter what she is like, you
silly old John ? — she is your mother, and that is quite
enough for me. And don't you think I love you more
ridiculously than ever because you are so good and noble
and true to your old mother, and are not ashamed of her
because she is not just exactly like other people ? " And
she laid her soft cheek against his sleeve, by her clasped
hands, as she spoke.
But he drew away with almost a shudder. " Love me
less, then, Violet ; hate me, for I was ashamed of her ; I
was base and cowardly and untrue, and I wanted to get
her out of the way so that no one should know, not even
you, and I hurt and wounded her, — her who would have
done anything for her ' Laddie,' as she calls me, — and
she went away disappointed and sad and sorry, and I
cannot find her."
He had sunk down into Violet's low chair and covered
up his face with his hands, and through the fingers forced
their way the hot, burning tears, while he told of his in-
effectual efforts to find her, and his shame and regret.
LADDIE. 39
She stood listening, too pitiful and sorry for words,
longing to comfort him ; and at last she knelt down and
pulled his hands gently away from his face, and whis-
pered very softly, as if he might not like to hear her use
his mother's name, "We will find her, never fear; your
mother and mine. Laddie." And so she comforted him.
What an awful place London is. I do not mean awful
in the sense in which the word is used by fashionable
young ladies, or schoolboys, by whom it is applied indis-
criminately to a "lark" or a "bore," into which two
classes most events in life may, according to them, be
divided, and considered equally descriptive of sudden
death or a new bonnet. I use it in its real meaning, full
of awe, inspiring fear and reverence, as Jacob said,
" How dreadful is this place," — this great London, with
its millions of souls, with its strange contrasts of riches
and poverty, business and pleasure, learning and igno-
rance, and the sin everywhere. Awful indeed! and the
thought would b^ overwhelming in its awfulness if we
could not say also as Jacob did, " Surely the Lord is in
this place, and I knew it not ; " if we did not know that
there is the ladder set up, reaching to heaven, and the
angels of God ever ascending and descending ; if we did
not believe that the Lord stands above it. It seemed a
very terrible place to the old countrywoman as she
wandered about its streets and squares, its parks and
alleys, that November day, too dazed and stupefied to
form any plan for herself, only longing to get out of
sight, that she might not shame her boy. She felt no
bitterness against him ; for it was not natural when he
was a gentleman, and she a poor, homely old body ?
In the early morning, when the streets were empty
except for policemen or late revellers hurrying home, or
market-carts coming in from the country, with frosty
40 LADDIE.
moisture on the heaps of cabbages, she got on pretty
well. She had a cup of coffee at an early coffee-stall,
and no one took any notice of her ; some of those that
passed were country people too ; and at that early hour
people are used to see odd, out-of-the-way figures, that
would be stared at in the height of noon. But as the
day went on the streets filled with hurrying people, and
the shops opened, and omnibuses and cabs began to run,
and she got into more bustling, noisy thoroughfares, and
was hustled and pushed about and looked at, the terrors
of the situation came heavily upon her. She tried to
encourage herself with the thought that before long she
should get out of London and reach the country, little
knowing, poor old soul, how many miles of streets and
houses and pavements lay between her and the merest
pretence to real country. And then, too, in that maze
of streets where one seemed exactly like another, her
course was of a most devious character, often describing
a circle and bringing her back through the same streets
without the old woman knowing that she was retracing
her steps ; sometimes a difficult crossing, with an appar-
ently endless succession of omnibusses and carts, turned
her from her way; sometimes a quieter-looking street,
with the trees of a square showing at the end, enticed
her aside. Once she actually went up North Crediton
Street, unconsciously and unnoticed. She reached one
of the parks at last, and sat down very thankfully on
a seat, though it was clammy and damp, and the fog was
lurking under the gaunt black trees, and hanging over
the thin, coarse grass, which was being nibbled by dirty,
desolate sheep, who looked to the old woman's eyes like
some new kind of London animal, not to be recognized
as belonging to the same species as the soft, fleecy white
flocks on the hillsides and meadows of Sunnybrook.
LADDIE. 41
She sat here a long time, resting, dozing, and trying to
think. " I don't want to trouble no one, or shame no
one, I only want just to get out of the way." She was
faint and tired, and she thought perhaps she might be
going to die. " It's a bit unked to die all alone, and I'd
liefer have died in my bed comfortable-like ; but there !
it don't much matter, it'll soon be all over and an end
to it all." But, no, that would not do either ; and the
old woman roused herself and shook off the faintness.
"Whatever would folks say if Laddie's mother was
found dead like any tramp in the road ? He'd die of
shame, pretty near, to hear it in every one's mouth."
Poor old soul ! she little knew how people can starve,
and break their hearts, and die for want of food or love
in London, and no one be the wiser or the sadder. It
was just then she found out that her pocket had been
picked, or rather that her purse was gone ; for she did
not wonder where or how it went, and, indeed, she did
not feel the Ibss very acutely, though, at home in the
old days, she had turned the house upside down and
hunted high and low, and spared no pains to find a miss-
ing halfpenny. It did not contain all her money, for
with good, old-fashioned caution, she had some notes
sewed up in her stays ; but still it was a serious loss, and
one she would have made a great moan over in old
times. She did not know that the sight of her worn old
netted purse, with the rusty steel rings, had touched a
soft spot in a heart that for years had seemed too dry
and hard for any feeling. It had lain in the hand of an
expert London pickpocket ; it was mere child's play
taking it ; it did not require any skill. There was a bit
of lavender stuck into the rings, and he smelt and looked
at it, and then the old woman turned and looked at him
with her country eyes ; and then all at once, almost in
42 LADDIE.
spite of himself, he held out the purse to her. " Don't
you see as you've dropped your purse ? " he said in a
surly, angry tone, and finished with an oath that made
the old woman tremble and turn pale ; and he flung away,
setting his teeth, and calling himself a fool. That man
was not all bad, — who is ? — and his poor act of resti-
tution is surely put to his credit in the ledger of his life,
and will stand there when the books shall be opened.
The old woman got little good from it, however, for the
purse was soon taken by a less scrupulous thief.
How cold it was ! The old woman shivered and drew
her damp shawl round her, and longed, oh, how bitterly,
for the old fireside, and the settle, worn and polished by
generations of shoulders ; for the arm-chair with its
patchwork cushion; longed, ah, how wearily, for the
grave by the churchyard wall, where the master rests
free of all his troubles, and where "there's plenty of
room for I ; " and longed, too, quite as simply and pa-
thetically, for a cup of tea out of the cracked brown
teapot. But why should I dwell on the feelings of a
foolish, insignificant old woman? There are hundreds
and thousands about us whose lives are more interesting,
whose thoughts are more worth recording. "Are not
two sparrows sold for a farthing ? " and yet, " doth not
God take thought for sparrows ? " Then, surely, so
may we. Does He indeed despise not the desires of
such as be sorrowful, — even though the sorrowful one
be only an old country woman, and her desire a cup of
tea ? Then why should we call that common and unin-
teresting which He pitifully beholds ? And we shall
find no life that is not full of interest, tender feeling,
noble poetry, deep tragedy, just as there is nobody
without the elaborate system of nerves and muscles and
veins with which we are fearfully and wonderfully made.
LADDIE. 43
The early November dusk was coining on before she
set out on her pilgrimage again, the darkness coming all
the earlier for the fog and the London smoke ; and then,
hardly caring which way she went, she turned her face
eastward, not knowing that she w^as making for the very
heart of London. The streets were even more crowded
and confusing than they had been in the morning ; and
the gas and the lighted shops, and the noise, and her own
weariness, combined to increase her bewilderment.
Once, as she passed round the corner of a quieter
street, some one ran up against her, and nearly threw
her down, — a lady, the old woman would have described
her, smartly, even handsomely, dressed, with a bright
color on her cheeks, and glowing, restless, unhappy eyes,
and dry, feverish lips. She spoke a hasty word of apol-
ogy, and then, all at once, gave a sharp, sudden cry, and
put her hands on the old woman's shoulders, and looked
eagerly into h^r face. Then she pushed her away with
a painful little laugh. " I thought you were my mother,"
she said.
" No ; I never had no gals."
" You're in luck, then," the girl said ; " thank Heaven
for it."
" Was your mother, maybe, from the country ? "
" Yes ; she lived in Somersetshire. But I don't even
know that she's alive, and I think she must be dead. I
hope she is — I hope it ! "
There was something in the girl's voice that told of
more bitter despair than her words, and the old woman
put out her hand and laid it on the girl's velvet sleeve.
" My dear," she said, " maybe I could help you."
" Help ! " was the answer. " I'm past that. There,
good-night ! Don't trouble your kind head about me."
And then the old woman went on again, getting into
44 LADDIE.
narrow, darker streets, with fewer shops, and people of
a rougher, poorer class. But it would overtax your pa-
tience and my powers to describe the old woman's wan-
derings in the maze of London. Enough to say, that
when, an hour or two later, footsore and ready to drop,
she stumbled along a little street near Soho Square, a
woman, with a baby in her arms, uttered a loud cry of
pleased recognition, and darted out to stop her.
" Why, it ain't never you ! Whoever would have
thought of seeing you so soon ; and however did you find
me out ? This is the house. Why, there, there ! Dontee
cry, sure ! dontee, now ! You're tired out. Come in and
have a cup of tea. I've got the kettle boiling all ready,
for my Harry '11 be in soon."
It was the young woman she travelled with the day
before, — only the day before, though it seemed months
to look back to ; only her face was bright and happy
now, in spite of the fog and dirt about her ; for had not
hfer Harry a home and welcome for her, in spite of all
her fears and people's evil prophecies ; and was not this
enough to make sunshine through the rainiest day ?
Very improbable, you will say, perhaps, that these two
waifs, these floating straws, should have drifted together
on the great ocean of London life. Yes, very improbable,
well-nigh impossible, I agree, if it is mere chance that
guides our way: but stranger, more improbable things
happen every day ; and, if we mean anything by Provi-
dence, it is no longer difficult to understand, for we can
see the Hand leading, guiding, arranging, weaving the
tangled, confused threads of human life into the grand,
clear, noble pattern of divine purpose.
LADDIE. ' 45
CHAPTER V.
Eighteen months have passed away since my story
began; and it is no longer dull, foggy November, . but
May, beautiful even in London, where the squares and
parks are green and fresh, and the lilacs and laburnums
in bloom, and the girls sell lilies-of-the-valley and wall-
flowers in the streets, and trucks with double stocks
and narcissus " all a-growing and a-blowing '^ pass along,
leaving a sweet, reviving scent behind them. The sky is
blue, with great soft masses of cotton-wool cloud ; and
the air is balmy and pure in spite of smoke and dirt;
and sweet spring is making his power felt, even in
the very midst of London. It is blossoming time in the
heart as well as in the Kentish apple-orchards ; and the
heart cannot help feeling gay and singing its happy little
song even through its cares, like the poor larks in the
Seven Dials' bird-shops, ruffling their soft breasts and
knocking their poor brown heads against their cages in
their ecstasy of song.
Dr. Carter had good cause for happiness that day,
though, indeed, he was moving among sickness and suf-
fering in a great London hospital. He had some lilies
in his coat that Violet fastened there with her own
hands ; and as she did so he had whispered, " Only
another week, Violet ; " for their wedding-day was fixed
in the next week. And was not that a thought that
suited well with the lovely May weather, to make him
carry a glad heart under the lilies ? The wedding had
been long delayed from one cause and another, but prin-
cipally because the search for the old mother had been
46 LADDIE.
altogether fruitless, in spite of the confidence of the
police.
" We will find her first," Violet would say ; " we must
find her. Laddie." She adopted the old name quite nat-
urally. "And then we will talk of the wedding."
But the time rolled on, days, weeks, and months, till
at last it was more than a year ago that she had gone ;
and though they never gave up the hope of finding her,
or their efforts to do so, still it no longer seemed to stand
between them and give a reason for putting off the
marriage, but rather to draw them nearer together, and
give a reason for marrying at once. But on Dr. Carter's
writing-table always stood the pair of pattens, much to
the surprise of patients ; but he would not have them
moved, and in his heart lay the pain and regret, side by
side with his love and happiness.
The doctors were making their rounds in the hospital,
with a crowd of students about them. There was a very
interesting case in the accident ward, over which much
time was spent, and much attention paid. I am not doctor
enough to describe what the nature of the case was ; and
if I were, I daresay you would not care to hear ; but it
was a very interesting case to the doctors and nurses ;
and that means that life and death were fighting over
that bed, and science bringing every re-enforcement in
its power in aid of the poor battered fortress that the
grim king was attacking so severely. An easy victory
on either one side or the other is very uninteresting to
lookers-on, though of the deepest moment to the patient.
And so the doctors passed on with hardly a word by the
two next beds, in one of which life was the conqueror,
hanging out his flags of triumph in a tinge of color on
the cheeks, brightness in the eyes, and vigor in the
limbs ; in the other, death was as plainly to be seen in
the still form and Avhite, drawn face.
LABBIE. 47
After the doctors and students had passed by, and
finished their round, Dr. Carter came back alone to No.
-20. He had taken deep interest in the case, and had
something to say further about it to the nurse. He was
a great favorite with the nurses, from his courteous,
gentle manners ; so they were not disposed to regard his
second visit as a troublesome, fidgety intrusion, as they
might have done with some*^ He had not been quite
pleased with the way in which a dresser had placed a
bandage, and he altered it himself with those strong,
tender fingers of his, and was just going off better satis-
fied, when he found the flowers had dropped from his
coat. If they had not been Violet's gift it would not
have mattered ; but he did not like to lose what she had
given, and he looked about for them. They had fallen,
by some quick movement of his, on to the next bed, where
death was having an easy victory.
The old woman's arms were stretched outside the bed-
clothes, and one of her hands, hardworked hands, with
the veins standing up on the backs like cord, had closed,
perhaps involuntarily, on the flowers, the lilies and the
dainty green leaf.
" Here they are, sir," said the nurse ; " they must have
dropped as you turned round." And she tried to draw
them from the woman's hand, but it only closed the
tighter. " She doesn't know a bit what she's about.
Leave go of the flowers, there's a good woman," she said
close to her ear ; " the gentleman wants them."
But the hand still held them.
"Well, never mind!" Dr. Carter said, with just a
shade of vexation ; " let her keep them. It does not mat-
ter, and you will only break them if you try to get them
away."
" She's not been conscious since they brought her in,"
48 LADDIE.
the nurse said; "it's a street accident; knocked down
by an omnibus. We don't know her name, or nothing,
and no one's been to ask about her."
The doctor still stopped, looking at the lilies in the
old hand.
" She is badly hurt," he said.
The nurse explained what the house surgeon had said :
" Another day will see an end of it. I thought she would
have died this morning when I first came on ; she was
restless then, and talked a little. I fancy she's Scotch,
for I heard her say * Laddie ' several times."
The word seemed to catch the otherwise unconscious
ear, for the old woman turned her head on the pillow,
and said feebly, " Laddie."
And then, all at once, the doctor gave a cry that
startled all the patients in the ward, and made many a
one lift up her head to see the cause of such a cry.
" Mother ! " he cried, " mother, is it you ? "
Dr. Carter was kneeling by the bed, looking eagerly,
wildly, at the wan white face. Was he mad ? The
nurse thought he must be, and this a sudden frenzy.
And then he called again, —
" Mother, mother, speak to me ! "
A childless mother near said afterwards she thought
such a cry would have called her back from the dead,
and it almost seemed to do so in this case, for the closed
lids trembled and raised themselves a very little, and the
drawn mouth moved into the ghost of a smile, and she
said, —
"Eh, Laddie, here I be."
And then the nurse came nearer to reason with the
madman.
"' There is some mistake," she said ; " this is quite a
poor old woman."
LADDIE. 49
And then he got up and looked at her, she said after-
wards, " like my lord duke, as proud as anything."
" Yes," he said, " and she is my mother. I will make
arrangements at once for her removal to my house if she
can bear it."
Ah ! that was the question, and it wanted little exami-
nation or experience to tell that the old woman was past
moving. The nurse, bewildered and still incredulous,
persuaded him not to attempt it ; and, instead, her bed
was moved into a small ward off the large one, where she
could be left alone.
Love is stronger than death : many waters cannot
drown it. Yes, but it cannot turn back those cold waters
of death, when the soul has once entered them ; and so
Dr. Carter found that with all his love and with all his
skill, he could only smooth, and that but a very little,
the steep, stony road down into Jordan.
He got a nurse to attend specially upon her, but he
would noMeave her ; and the nurse said it was not much
good her being there, for he smoothed her pillows, and
raised her head, and damped her lips, and fanned her
with untiring patience and tenderness. Once when he
had his arm under her head, raising it, she opened her
eyes wide and looked at him.
"Ah, Laddie," she said, "I'm a bit tired with my jour-
ney. It's a longish way from Sunnybrook."
" Did you come from there ? "
" Yes, sure ; I've never been such a long way before-
and I'm tired out."
" Why didn't you write ? " he asked presently, when
she opened her eyes again.
" I wanted to give you a surprise," she said ; " and I
knew as you'd be glad to see me at any time as I liked
to come."
50 LADDIE.
And then it dawned on him that the past eighteen
months had been blotted clean out of her memory, and
that she thought she had just arrived. Then she dozed
and then again spoke, " And so this is your house. Lad-
die ? And mighty fine it be ! " looking round on the
bare hospital room ; " and I'm that comfortable if I
wasn't so tired, but 1*11 be getting up when I'm rested a
bit. But it do me good to see you when I opens my
eyes. I've been thinking all the way how pleased you'd
be." All this she said a word or two at a time, and very
low and weakly, so that only a son's ear could have
heard.
As the evening came on she fell asleep very quietly,
such a sleep as, if hope had been possible, might have
given hope. Dr. Carter left the nurse watching her and
went away, got a hansom and offered the man double
fare to take him to Harley Street as fast as possible.
Violet had just come in from a flower-show, and looked
a flower herself, with her sweet face and dainty dr§ss.
" I have found her," Laddie said. " Come." And
she came without asking a question, only knowing from
Laddie's face that there was sorrow as well as joy in the
finding.
" She is dying," he said, as they went up the hospital
stairs together. " Can you bear it ? "
She only answered by a pressure of her hand on his
arm, and they went on to the quiet room. There was a
shaded light burning, and the nurse sitting by the bed-
side.
" She has not stirred, sir, since you left."
But even as she spoke, the old woman moved and
opened her eyes, looking first at Laddie and then on
Violet.
" Who is it ? " she asked.
LADDIE. 51
And then Violet knelt down with her sweet face close
to the old woman's, and said very softly, " Mother, I am
Laddie's sweetheart."
" Laddie's sweetheart ; " she echoed ; " he's over-young
to be wed — but there ! I forget. He's been a good son,
my dear, always good to his old mother, and he'll be a
good husband. And you'll make him a good wife, my
dear, won't you ? God bless you."
And then her trembling hand was feeling for some-
thing, and Laddie guessed her wish, and put his own
hand and Violet's into it ; two young hands, full of life
and health and pulsation, under the old, worn, hard-
worked hand, growing cold and weak with death.
" God bless you, dears. Laddie and his sweetheart.
But I'm a bit tired just now."
And then she dozed again, and the two sat by in the
dim, quiet room, drawn closer together and dearer to
each other than they ever had been before, in the pres-
ence of \the Great Angel of Death who was so near the
old mother now. And very tenderly he did his work
that night ! Only a sigh and then a sudden hush, during
which the listeners' pulses throbbed in their ears, as they
listened for the next long-drawn, painful, difficult breath
that did not come ; and then the weary limbs relaxed
into the utter repose and stillness of rest after labor, for
the night had come when no man can work, — the holy
starlit night of death, with the silver streaks of the great
dawn of the Resurrection shining in the east.
For a moment they sat spell-bound ; and then it was
Laddie, he who had so often seen death face to face, who
gave way, throwing himself on the bed with an exceed-
ing bitter cry, " mother, mother, say you forgive
me!"
What need for words ? Did he not know that she for
62 LADDIE.
gave him ? If indeed she knew that she had anything to
forgive. But she was " a bit tired."
Don't you know when bedtime comes, and the nurse
calls the children, how sometimes they leave their toys,
which a few minutes before seemed all in all to them,
without a look, and the cake unfinished, and are carried
off with their heads bent down, and their eyes heavy
with sleep, too tired even to say good-night, or speak a
pretty, lisping word of the play-time past, or the pleas-
ures coming in the morning ? And so it is often with
us bigger children ; when the nurse Death calls us at our
bedtime, we are '' a bit tired," and glad to go, too sleepy
even for thought or farewell.
They laid her by the old master in Sunnybrook church-
yard; and the village folks talked long afterwards of
the funeral, and how Dr. Carter, " he as used to be called
Laddie," followed her to the grave, "along with the
pretty young lady as he was going to marry ; and, bless
my heart ! wouldn't the poor old soul have felt proud if
she could have seen 'em ? But she's better where she
is, where there ain't no buryin' and no pride neither."
THE END.
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