Why should he keep her? She wasn't one of his
children, he had quite enough of his own. Sometimes of an evening, when
Esther could escape from her drudgery for a few minutes, her mother would
step round, and mother and daughter, wrapped in the same shawl, would walk
to and fro telling each other their troubles, just as in old times. But
these moments were few. In grimy lodging-houses she worked from early
morning till late at night, scrubbing grates, preparing bacon and eggs,
cooking chops, and making beds. She had become one of those London girls
to whom rest, not to say pleasure, is unknown, who if they should sit down
for a few moments hear the mistress's voice, "Now, Eliza, have you nothing
to do, that you are sitting there idle?" Two of her mistresses, one after
the other, had been sold up, and now all the rooms in the neighbourhood
were unlet, no one wanted a "slavey," and Esther was obliged to return
home. It was on the last of these occasions that her father had taken her
by the shoulders, saying——
"No lodging-houses that want a slavey? I'll see about that. Tell me,
first, have you been to 78?"
"Yes, but another girl was before me, and the place was taken when I
arrived."
"I wonder what you were doing that you didn't get there sooner; dangling
about after your mother, I suppose! Well, what about 27 in the Crescent?"
"I couldn't go there—that Mrs. Dunbar is a bad woman."
"Bad woman! Who are you, I should like to know, that you can take a lady's
character away? Who told you she was a bad woman? One of the
Scripture-readers, I suppose! I knew it was. Well, then, just get out of
my house."
"Where shall I go?"
"Go to hell for all I care. Do you hear me? Get out!"
Esther did not move—words, and then blows. Esther's escape from her
stepfather seemed a miracle, and his anger was only appeased by Mrs.
Saunders promising that Esther should accept the situation.
"Only for a little while. Perhaps Mrs. Dunbar is a better woman than you
think for. For my sake, dearie. If you don't he may kill you and me too."
Esther looked at her one moment, then she said, "Very well, mother,
to-morrow I'll take the place."
No longer was the girl starved, no longer was she made to drudge till the
thought of another day was a despair and a terror. And seeing that she was
a good girl, Mrs. Dunbar respected her scruples. Indeed, she was very
kind, and Esther soon learnt to like her, and, through her affection for
her, to think less of the life she led. A dangerous point is this in a
young girl's life. Esther was young, and pretty, and weary, and out of
health; and it was at this critical moment that Lady Elwin, who, while
visiting, had heard her story, promised Mrs. Saunders to find Esther
another place. And to obviate all difficulties about references and
character, Lady Elwin proposed to take Esther as her own servant for a
sufficient while to justify her in recommending her.
And now, as she turned over her books—the books she could not read—her
pure and passionate mind was filled with the story of her life. She
remembered her poor little brothers and sisters and her dear mother, and
that tyrant revenging himself upon them because of the little she might
eat and drink. No, she must bear with all insults and scorn, and forget
that they thought her as dirt under their feet. But what were such
sufferings compared to those she would endure were she to return home? In
truth they were as nothing. And yet the girl longed to leave Woodview. She
had never been out of sight of home before. Amid the violences of her
stepfather there had always been her mother and the meeting-house. In
Woodview there was nothing, only Margaret, who had come to console and
persuade her to come downstairs. The resolution she had to call out of her
soul to do this exhausted her, and she went downstairs heedless of what
anyone might say.
Two and three days passed without anything occurring that might suggest
that the Fates were for or against her remaining.
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