CHAPTER TENTH.
THE NEW HOME.
Mrs. Wentworth followed the boy till he arrived in front of series ofwretched looking rooms, situated on one of the miserable lanes withwhich Jackson abounds. Stopping in front of one of them, he pointed toit, and with no other words than "Dem is de room, ma'm," walked off.Taking the key, which Mr. Elder had previously given her, she openedthe door and entered.
Mrs. Wentworth's heart sank within her as she viewed the wretchedlooking apartment. The interior of the room was exceedingly dirty,while the faded paper, which once gaudily adorned it, now hung inshreds from the walls. The fireplace was broken up, and disgustingwords were written in every part of the room. It had been, in fact,the lodging of a woman of dissolute character, who had been accustomedto gather a crowd of debauched characters in her apartment nightly,but who, from a failure to pay her rent, had been turned out by Mr.Elder. The other apartments were still occupied by abandoned women;but of this fact Mrs. Wentworth was not aware.
As she looked at the room a feeling of indescribable sadness creptover her, and a sigh of bitterness burst from her throbbing bosom. Itwas, however, not to be helped; she had already paid the rent, and wascompelled to keep it for the month. Sadly she left the room, andlocking it after her, repaired to a store to purchase a few necessaryarticles of furniture.
On entering a store, the first person she saw was Mr. Swartz, who had,by this time, risen from the lowly position of a grocer to that of a"General wholesale and retail merchant," as the sign over his doorvery pompously announced.
Mr. Swartz remained on his seat at her entrance, barely raising hiseyes to sec who had entered. She stood for a few moments, when, seeingthat no one appeared to notice her presence, she walked up to him andinformed him that she wished to purchase a few pieces of furniture.
"Vot kind do you vant?" he inquired, without moving from his seat.
"A small bedstead, three or four chairs, a table and a washstand," sheanswered.
"Look at them and see vich you like te best," he said, "and I villtell you te brice."
After a little search, Mrs. Wentworth selected the plainest and mosthomely she could find of all the articles she desired, and, turning tohim, inquired what the price would be.
"Te pedstead is forty tollars; te chairs is three tollars apiece; tetaple is twenty tollars; and to washstand is fourteen," he replied.
"And how much will that amount to, altogether?" she asked.
"Eighty-six tollars," he responded.
"Can you take no less, sir?" she asked.
"No, ma'am," he answered. "I have put one brice, and if you don't vantto pay it you can leave it."
Taking out the desired amount, she paid him without making any furtherremark, and requested that they would be sent after her. Calling adrayman, Mr. Swartz told him to follow her with the furniture, and hereturned to his seat, satisfied with having made sixty dollars on theeighty-six, received from Mrs. Wentworth, the furniture having beenbought at sheriff's sale for a mere trifle.
Having purchased a few other household utensils, Mrs. Wentworthproceeded to the Bowman House, from which, after paying her bill, sheremoved her children, and, followed by the dray with her furniture,proceeded to the wretched hovel site had rented. Her stock of moneyhad now been reduced to less than sixty dollars, and with this sheembarked upon the world with two tender children.
After paying the drayman, who was a kind-hearted negro, and gettinghim to erect the bedstead, he departed, and a feeling of desolationand loneliness spread its dark shadows over the heart of Mrs.Wentworth. Seating herself on a chair, with her two children clingingto her knees, the long pent up fountain of grief burst forth, andtears bedewed the cheeks of the Soldier's Wife; tears, such as onlythose who have felt the change of fortune, can shed; tears, which,like the last despairing cry of the desolate, can only be answered inheaven!