Scamp and I: A Story of City By-Ways
son.'
"And he got up and went back to his father. But the loving father waslooking out for him, and when he saw him coming over the hill-top, heran to meet him, and threw his arms about him; and the son said--
"`Father, I have sinned against Heaven and before thee, and am no moreworthy to be called thy son.'
"But the father said, `Bring forth the best robe and put it on him, andput a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet, and let us make a feastand be merry, for this my son was dead and is alive again, he was lostand is found.'"
Night after night Flo had listened to this story, always with a questionat the top of her lips, but never until to-night had she courage to putit.
"Was the best robe, a jacket and trousers and little weskit, ma'am?"
"Very like," said Mrs Jenks, bending over a fresh seam she wasbeginning to unpick.
"But you hasn't no lad comin' back fur that 'ere jacket, ma'am?"
Mrs Jenks was silent for fully two minutes, her work had fallen fromher hands, her soft, gentle eyes looked afar.
"Yes, Flo dear," she said, "I have such a lad."
"Wot's 'is name, ma'am?"
"Willie," said Mrs Jenks, "Willie's 'is name--leastways 'is home name."
"And is he a comin' back any day, ma'am? Is you a lookin' hout o' thewinder fur 'im any day?"
"No, Flo, he won't come any day, he won't come fur a bit."
"Wen 'is best robe is ready, ma'am?"
"Yes; when he comes it shall be ready."
"'Ow soon is 'ee like to walk in, ma'am?"
"I don't know exact," said Mrs Jenks, "but I'll look out fur him in thespring, when the little crocuses and snowdrops is out--he's very like toturn up then."
As Mrs Jenks spoke she folded the jacket and put it tidily away, andthen she unbandaged Flo's foot and rubbed some strengthening liniment onit, and undressed the little girl and put her into bed, and when she hadtucked her up and kissed her, and Flo hail rewarded her with a smilebreaking all over her little white, thin face, something in theexpression of that, face caused her to bend down again and speaksuddenly.
"God has given me a message for you, child, and forgetful old woman thatI am, I was near going to sleep without yer 'aving it."
"Wot's the message, mum?"
"The message is this, straight from God Himself--`Certainly I will bewith thee.' Do you know what that means, my child?"
"I can part guess, ma'am."
"Ay, I dare say you can part guess, but you may as well know the wholesweet meaning of it. 'Tis this, Flo Darrell--_wherever_ you be, Godwill be with you. Back in your cellar, dark as it is, He'll come andkeep you company. If you stay with me, why He's here too. When you goto sleep His arm is under your head; when you walk abroad, He's by yourside--He's with you now, and He'll be with you for ever. When you cometo die He'll be with you. You need never fear for nothing, for God willbe always with you. He says `Certainly,' and His certainly, is as big,and wide, and strong as eternity, Flo Darrell."
"Yes, ma'am," replied Flo very softly, and then Mrs Jenks went and laydown on her mattress, and was presently sleeping the sweet and heavysleep of the hard worker.
But Flo could not sleep--she lay awake, feeling the soft white sheetswith her fingers, looking with her brown eyes all round the pretty room.How bright, and pure, and fresh it all looked, with the firelightflickering over the furniture, to the beauty-loving child.
She was taking farewell of it then--she must go away to-morrow; backagain to their cellar the dog and she must go--away from the sunlight ofthis bright little home, into the homeless darkness of their DuncanStreet life.
She had not expected it quite so soon, she had thought that God wouldgive her a little more notice, a little longer time to prepare, beforehe asked her to return that comfortable bed to Mrs Jenks. Well, thetime had come for her to do it, and she must do it with a good grace,she must not show dear Mrs Jenks even half how sorry she was.
That little woman had done so much for her, had changed and brightenedher whole existence, had been specially chosen by God Himself to do allthis for her, to save her life.
Not for worlds would she look as though she expected more from MrsJenks. She must go away to-morrow, very, very thankful, and not toosad, otherwise the little woman would feel uncomfortable about her. Sheresolved that in the morning she would wear quite a cheerful face, andtalk brightly of all people _had_ made by translating. She would walkaway when the time came, as briskly as her lame foot would permit, Scampwagging his tail, and supposing he was only going for an ordinary walk,by her side.
Then they would reach the cellar, and Janey's mother, who kept the key,would open it for them, and, perhaps Janey herself would come down andlisten to all Flo's wonderful stories.
Well; these were for to-morrow, to-night she must say farewell;to-night, with eyes too sad, and heart too heavy for childish tears, shemust look around at this cleanliness, this comfort, this luxury for thelast time.
Flo was a poor child, the child of low people, but she had a refinednature, a true lady's heart beat in that little breast. All the finerinstincts, all the cravings of a gentle and high spirit, were hers.Pretty things were a delight to her, the sound of sweet music anecstasy. Born in another sphere, she might have been an artist, shemight have been a musician, but never, under any circumstances, couldshe have led a common-place life.
The past six weeks, notwithstanding her anxiety and sorrow about Dick,had been one bright dream to her. The perfect neatness, the littlerough, but no longer tattered, dress Mrs Jenks had made for her, thesense of repose, the lovely stories, had made the place little short ofParadise to the child.
And now by to-morrow night it would all be over, and the old dark lifeof poverty, hunger, and dirt would begin again.
As Flo was thinking this, and, leaning on her elbow, was looking sadlyaround, suddenly the verse Mrs Jenks had said good-night to her withdarted like a ray of brightest sunshine into her soul.
"Certainly, I will be with thee."
What a fool she was, to think Janey's company necessary, to have anyfear of loneliness. God would be with her.
Though unseen by her (she knew that much about God now), He would stillbe by her side. Was it likely, when He was down with her in the darkcellar, that He would allow her to want, or even have things very hardfor her?
Or suppose He did allow her to go through privations? suppose He askedher to bear a few short, dark days for Him down here, He would give hera for-ever and for-ever of bright days, by and by.
After a time she grew weary, and her heavy lids closed, and she went tosleep, but her face was no longer sad, it was bright with the thought ofGod.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
MISS MARY.
The next morning Flo watched Mrs Jenks very narrowly, wondering andhoping much that she would show some sorrow at the thought of the comingparting. A shade, even a shade, of regret on the little woman's facewould have been pleasing to Flo; it would have given her undoubtedsatisfaction to know that Mrs Jenks missed her, or would be likely tomiss her, ever so little. But though she watched her anxiously, notrace of what she desired was visible on the bright little woman'sfeatures. She was up earlier than usual, and looked to Flo rather morebrisk and happy than usual. She went actively about her work, singingunder her breath for fear of disturbing Flo, whom she fancied was stillasleep, some of the hymns she delighted in.
"Christ is my Saviour and my Friend, My Brother and my Love, My Head, my Hope, my Counsellor, My Advocate above,"
sang Mrs Jenks, and while she sang she dusted, and tidied, and scrubbedthe little room; and as she polished the grate, and lit the small fire,and put the kettle on for breakfast, she continued--
"Christ Jesus is the heaven of heaven; My Christ, what shall I call? Christ is the first, Christ is the last, My Christ is all in all."
No, Mrs Jenks was not sorry about anything, that was plain; there was aconcealed triumph in her low notes which almost brought tears to theeyes of the list
ening child. Perhaps she would have sobbed aloud, andso revealed to Mrs Jenks what was passing in her mind, had not thatlittle woman done something which took off her attention, and astonishedher very much. When she had completed all her usual preparations forbreakfast, she took off her old working gown, and put on her bestSunday-go-to-meeting dress.
This surprised Flo so utterly that she forgot she had been pretending tobe asleep and sat up on her elbow to gaze at her.
Over the best dress she pinned a snowy kerchief, and putting on finallya clean widow's cap, drew up the blinds and approached Flo's side.
"I'll just see about that poor foot now," she said, "and then, while Iam frying the herring