’Icanseethereasonwhyyouaresopopularwithmen。’
’Ay，youcanseeit，buttheyneverwill。’
’Well，howwouldyoudressyourselfifyouweregoingtothateditor’soffice？’
’OfcourseIwouldwearmysilkandmySabbathbonnet。’
’Itisyouwhoareshortsightednow，mother。Itellyou，youwouldmanagehimbetterifyoujustputonyouroldgreyshawlandoneofyourbonnywhitemutches，andwentinhalfsmilingandhalftimidandsaid，"IamthemotherofhimthatwritesabouttheAuldLichts，andIwantyoutopromisethathewillneverhavetosleepintheopenair。"’
Butmymotherwouldshakeherheadatthis，andreplyalmosthotly，’ItellyouifIevergointothatman’soffice，Igoinsilk。’
IwroteandaskedtheeditorifIshouldcometoLondon，andhesaidNo，soIwent，ladenwithchargesfrommymothertowalkinthemiddleofthestreet（theyjumpoutonyouasyouareturningacorner），nevertoventureforthaftersunset，andalwaystolockupeverything（Iwhocouldneverlockupanything，exceptmyheartincompany）。Thankstothiseditor，fortheotherswouldhavenothingtosaytomethoughIbatteredonalltheirdoors，shewassoonabletosleepatnightswithoutthedreadthatIshouldbewakingpresentlywiththeiron—workofcertainseatsfiguredonmyperson，andwhatrelievedherverymuchwasthatIhadbeguntowriteasifAuldLichtswerenottheonlypeopleIknewof。SolongasI
confinedmyselftothemshehadahauntingfearthat，eventhoughtheeditorremainedblindtohisbestinterests，somethingwouldonedaygocrackwithinme（asthemainspringofawatchbreaks）
andmypenrefusetowriteforevermore。’Ay，Ilikethearticlebrawly，’shewouldsaytimidly，’butI’mdoubtingit’sthelast—I
alwayshaveasortofterrorthenewonemaybethelast，’andifmanydayselapsedbeforethearrivalofanotherarticleherfacewouldsaymournfully，’Theblowhasfallen—hecanthinkofnothingmoretowriteabout。’IfIeversharedherfearsInevertoldherso，andthearticlesthatwerenotScotchgrewinnumberuntiltherewerehundredsofthem，allcarefullypreservedbyher：
theyweretheonlythinginthehousethat，havingservedonepurpose，shedidnotconvertintosomethingelse，yettheycouldgiveheruneasymoments。ThiswasbecauseInearlyalwaysassumedacharacterwhenIwrote；Imustbeacountrysquire，oranundergraduate，orabutler，oramemberoftheHouseofLords，oradowager，oraladycalledSweetSeventeen，oranengineerinIndia，elsewasmypenclogged，andthoughthisgavemymothercertainfearfuljoys，causinghertolaughunexpectedly（sofarasmyarticleswereconcernedshenearlyalwayslaughedinthewrongplace），italsoscaredher。MuchtoheramusementtheeditorcontinuedtoprefertheAuldLichtpapers，however，aswasproved（tothosewhoknewhim）byhiswayofthinkingthattheotherswouldpassastheywere，whilehesentthesebackandaskedmetomakethembetter。Hereagainshecametomyaid。Ihadsaidthattherowofstockingswerehungonastringbythefire，whichwasarecollectionofmyown，butshecouldtellmewhethertheywerehungupsidedown。Shebecamequiteskilfulatsendingorgivingme（fornowIcouldbewithherhalftheyear）therightdetails，butstillshesmiledattheeditor，andinhergaymoodsshewouldsay，’IwasfifteenwhenIgotmyfirstpairofelastic—sidedboots。
Tellhimmychargeforthisimportantnewsistwopoundsten。’
’Ay，butthoughwe’redoingwell，it’sno’thesameasiftheywereabookwithyournameonit。’Sotheambitiouswomanwouldsaywithasigh，andIdidmybesttoturntheAuldLichtsketchesintoabookwithmynameonit。Thenperhapsweunderstoodmostfullyhowgoodafriendoureditorhadbeen，forjustasIhadbeenabletofindnowell—knownmagazine—andIthinkItriedall—whichwouldprintanyarticleorstoryaboutthepoorofmynativeland，sonowthepublishers，ScotchandEnglish，refusedtoacceptthebookasagift。Iwaswillingtopresentittothem，buttheywouldhaveitinnoguise；thereseemedtobeablightoneverythingthatwasScotch。Idaresaywesighed，butneverwerecollaboratorsmorepreparedforrejection，andthoughmymothermightlookwistfullyatthescornedmanuscriptattimesandmurmur，’Youpoorcoldlittlecritturshutawayinadrawer，areyoudeadorjustsleeping？’shehadstillhereditortosaygraceover。Andatlastpublishers，sufficientlydaringandfarmorethansufficientlygenerous，werefoundforusbyadearfriend，whomadeonewomanvery’uplifted。’Healsowasaneditor，andhadaslargeapartinmakingmeawriterofbooksastheotherindeterminingwhatthebooksshouldbeabout。
NowthatIwasanauthorImustgetintoaclub。Butyoushouldhaveheardmymotheronclubs!Sheknewofnonesavethosetowhichyousubscribeapittanceweeklyinanticipationofrainydays，andtheLondonclubswereherscorn。OftenIheardheronthem—sheraisedhervoicetomakemehear，whicheverroomImightbein，anditwaswhenshewassarcasticthatIskulkedthemost：
’Thirtypoundsiswhathewillhavetopaythefirstyear，andtenpoundsayearafterthat。Youthinkit’saloto’siller？Ohno，you’remista’en—it’snothingava。Forthethirdpartofthirtypoundsyoucouldrentafour—roomedhouse，butwhatisafour—
roomedhouse，whatisthirtypounds，comparedtothegloryofbeingamemberofaclub？Wheredoestheglorycomein？Sal，youneednaaskme，I’mjustadoitedauldstockthatneversetfootinaclub，soit’slittleIkenaboutglory。ButImaytellyouifyoubideinLondonandcannabecomememberofaclub，thebestyoucandoistotiearoperoundyourneckandslipoutoftheworld。Whatusearethey？Oh，they’reterribleuseful。YouseeitdoesnadoforamaninLondontoeathisdinnerinhislodgings。Othermenshaketheirheadsathim。Hemaunawaytohisclubifheistoberespected。Doeshegetgooddinnersattheclub？Oh，theycow!
Yougetnocommonbeefatclubs；thereisamanzyofdifferentthingsallsauceduptobeunlikethemsels。Eventhepotatoesdaurnalooklikepotatoes。Ifthefoodinaclublookslikewhatitis，themembersrunabout，flinginguptheirhandsandcrying，"Woeisme!"Thenthisisanotherthing，yougetyourletterssenttotheclubinsteadoftoyourlodgings。Youseeyouwouldgetthemsooneratyourlodgings，andyoumayhavetotrudgewearymilestotheclubforthem，butthat’sagreatadvantage，andcheapatthirtypounds，isitno’？Iwondertheycandoitattheprice。’
Mywisestpolicywastoremaindownstairswhenthesewitheringblastswereblowing，butprobablyIwentupinself—defence。
’Ineversawyousopugnaciousbefore，mother。’
’Oh，’shewouldreplypromptly，’youcannaexpectmetobesharpintheuptakewhenIamno’amemberofaclub。’
’Butthedifficultyisinbecomingamember。Theyareveryparticularaboutwhomtheyelect，andIdaresayIshallnotgetin。’
’Well，I’mbutapoorcrittur（notbeingmemberofaclub），butI
thinkIcantellyoutomakeyourmindeasyonthathead。You’llgetin，I’seuphaud—andyourthirtypoundswillgetin，too。’
’IfIgetinitwillbebecausetheeditorissupportingme。’
’It’sthefirstillthingIeverheardofhim。’
’Youdon’tthinkheistogetanyofthethirtypounds，doyou？’
’’DeedifIdidIshouldbebetterpleased，forhehasbeenagoodfriendtous，butwhatmaddensmeisthateverypennyofitshouldgotothosebare—facedscoundrels。’
’Whatbare—facedscoundrels？’
’Themthathavetheclub。’
’Butallthemembershavetheclubbetweenthem。’
’Havers!I’mno’tobecatchedwithchaff。’
’Butdon’tyoubelieveme？’
’Ibelievethey’vefilledyourheadwiththeirstoriestillyouswallowwhatevertheytellyou。Iftheplacebelongstothemembers，whydotheyhavetopaythirtypounds？’
’Tokeepitgoing。’
’Theydinnahavetopayfortheirdinners，then？’
’Ohyes，theyhavetopayextrafordinner。’
’Andageyblackprice，I’mthinking。’
’Well，fiveorsixshillings。’
’Isthatall？Losh，it’snothing，Iwondertheydinnaraisetheprice。’
Neverthelessmymotherwasofasexthatscornedprejudice，and，droppingsarcasm，shewouldattimescross—examinemeasifhermindwasnotyetmadeup。’Tellmethis，ifyouweretofallill，wouldyoubepaidaweeklyallowanceoutoftheclub？’
No，itwasnotthatkindofclub。
’Isee。Well，Iamjusttryingtofindoutwhatkindofclubitis。Doyougetanythingoutofitforaccidents？’
Notapenny。
’AnythingatNewYear’stime？’
Notsomuchasagoose。
’Isthereanyonemortalthingyougetfreeoutofthatclub？’
Therewasnotonemortalthing。
’Andthirtypoundsiswhatyoupayforthis？’
Ifthecommitteeelectedme。
’Howmanyareinthecommittee？’
Aboutadozen，Ithought。
’Adozen!Ay，ay，thatmakestwopoundtenapiece。’
WhenIwaselectedIthoughtitwisdomtosendmysisterupstairswiththenews。Mymotherwasironing，andmadenocomment，unlesswiththeiron，whichIcouldhearrattlingmoreviolentlyinitsbox。PresentlyIheardherlaughing—atmeundoubtedly，butshehadrecoveredcontroloverherfacebeforeshecamedownstairstocongratulatemesarcastically。Thiswasgrandnews，shesaidwithoutatwinkle，andImustwriteandthankthecommittee，thenoblecritturs。Isawbehindhermask，andmaintainedadignifiedsilence，butshewouldhaveanothershotatme。’Andtellthem，’
shesaidfromthedoor，’youweredoubtfulofbeingelected，butyourauldmotherhadayeamightyconfidencetheywouldsnickyouin。’Iheardherlaughingsoftlyasshewentupthestair，butthoughIhadprovidedherwithajokeIknewshewasburningtotellthecommitteewhatshethoughtofthem。
Money，yousee，meantsomuchtoher，thoughevenatherpoorestshewasthemostcheerfulgiver。Intheolddays，whenthearticlearrived，shedidnotreaditatonce，shefirstcountedthelinestodiscoverwhatweshouldgetforit—sheandthedaughterwhowassodeartoherhadcalculatedthepaymentperline，andI
rememberonceoverhearingadiscussionbetweenthemaboutwhetherthatsub—titlemeantanothersixpence。Yes，sheknewthevalueofmoney；shehadalwaysintheendgotthethingsshewanted，butnowshecouldgetthemmoreeasily，anditturnedhersimplelifeintoafairytale。Soofteninthosedaysshewentdownsuddenlyuponherknees；wewouldcomeuponherthus，andgoawaynoiselessly。
AfterherdeathIfoundthatshehadpreservedinalittlebox，withaphotographofmeasachild，theenvelopeswhichhadcontainedmyfirstcheques。Therewasalittleribbonroundthem。
CHAPTERV—ADAYOFHERLIFE
Ishouldliketocallbackadayofherlifeasitwasatthistime，whenherspiritwasasbrightaseverandherhandaseager，butshewasnolongerabletodomuchwork。Itshouldnotbedifficult，forsherepeatedherselffromdaytodayandyetdiditwithaquaintunreasonablenessthatwaseveryieldingfreshdelight。Ourloveforherwassuchthatwecouldeasilytellwhatshewoulddoingivencircumstances，butshehadalwaysanewwayofdoingit。
Well，withbreakofdayshewakesandsitsupinbedandisstandinginthemiddleoftheroom。Sonimblewassheinthemornings（oneofourtroubleswithher）thatthesethreeactionsmustbeconsideredasone；sheisonthefloorbeforeyouhavetimetocountthem。Shehasstrictordersnottoriseuntilherfireislit，andhavingbrokenthemthereisademureelationonherface。
Thequestioniswhattodobeforesheiscaughtandhurriedtobedagain。Herfingersaretinglingtopreparethebreakfast；shewoulddearlylovetoblack—leadthegrate，butthatmightrouseherdaughterfromwhosesideshehasslippedsocunningly。Shecatchessightofthescreenatthefootofthebed，andimmediatelyhersoftfacebecomesverydetermined。Toguardherfromdraughtsthescreenhadbeenbroughtherefromthelordlyeastroom，whereitwasofnousewhatever。Butinheropinionitwastoobeautifulforuse；itbelongedtotheeastroom，whereshecouldtakepleasantpeepsatit；shehadobjectedtoitsremoval，evenbecomelow—spirited。Nowisheropportunity。Thescreenisanunwieldything，butstillasamouseshecarriesit，andtheyarewellunderweighwhenitstrikesagainstthegas—bracketinthepassage。Nextmomentareproachfulhandarrestsher。Sheischallengedwithbeingoutofbed，shedeniesit—standinginthepassage。Meeklyorstubbornlyshereturnstobed，anditisnosatisfactiontoyouthatyoucansay，’Well，well，ofallthewomen!’andsoon，or’Surelyyouknewthatthescreenwasbroughtheretoprotectyou，’
forshewillreplyscornfully，’Whowastouchingthescreen？’
BythistimeIhavewakened（Iamthroughthewall）andjointhemanxiously：sooftenhasmymotherbeentakenillinthenightthattheslightestsoundfromherroomrousesthehouse。Sheisinbedagain，lookingasifshehadneverbeenoutofit，butIknowherandlistensternlytothetaleofhermisdoings。Sheisnotcontrite。Yes，maybeshedidpromisenottoventureforthonthecoldfloorsofdaybreak，butshehadrisenforamomentonly，andwejustt’neadedherwithourtalkaboutdraughts—therewerenosuchthingsasdraughtsinheryoungdays—anditismorethanshecando（heresheagainattemptstorisebutweholdherdown）toliethereandwatchthatbeautifulscreenbeingspoilt。Ireplythatthebeautyofthescreenhaseverbeenitsmiserabledefect：
ho，there!foraknifewithwhichtospoilitsbeautyandmakethebedroomitsfittinghome。Asthereisnoknifehandy，myfootwilldo；Iraisemyfoot，andthen—sheseesthatitisbare，shecriestomeexcitedlytogobacktobedlestIcatchcold。Forthough，evercarelessofherself，shewillwanderthehouseunshod，andtellusnottotalkhaverswhenwechideher，thesightofoneofussimilarlynegligentrousesheranxietyatonce。SheiswillingnowtosignanyvowifonlyIwilltakemybarefeetbacktobed，butprobablysheissoonaftermeinherstomakesurethatIamnicelycoveredup。
Itisscarcelysixo’clock，andwehaveallpromisedtosleepforanotherhour，butintenminutessheissurethateighthasstruck（housedisgraced），orthatifithasnot，somethingiswrongwiththeclock。Nextmomentsheiscapturedonherwaydownstairstowinduptheclock。Soevidentlywemustbeupanddoing，andaswehavenoservant，mysisterdisappearsintothekitchen，havingfirstaskedmetoseethat’thatwoman’liesstill，and’thatwoman’callsoutthatshealwaysdoesliestill，sowhatarewebletheringabout？
Sheisupnow，anddressedinherthickmaroonwrapper；overhershoulders（lestsheshouldstraydespiteourwatchfulness）isashawl，notplacedtherebyherownhands，andonherheadadeliciousmutch。OthatIcouldsingthepaeanofthewhitemutch（andthedirgeoftheelaborateblackcap）fromthedaywhenshecalledwitchcrafttoheraidandmadeitoutofsnow—flakes，andthedearwornhandsthatwashedittenderlyinabasin，andthestarchingofit，andthefinger—ironforitsexquisitefrillsthatlookedlikecurlsofsugar，andthesweetbandswithwhichittiedbeneaththechin!Thehonouredsnowymutch，howIlovetoseeitsmilingtomefromthedoorsandwindowsofthepoor；itisalwayssmiling—sometimesmaybeawaveringwistfulsmile，asifatear—
droplayhiddenamong，thefrills。AhundredtimesIhavetakenthecharacterlesscapfrommymother’sheadandputthemutchinitsplaceandtiedthebandsbeneathherchin，whilesheprotestedbutwaswellpleased。Forinherheartsheknewwhatsuitedherbestandwouldadmitit，beaming，whenIputamirrorintoherhandsandtoldhertolook；butneverthelessthecapcostnolessthanso—and—so，whereas—Wasthataknockatthedoor？Sheisgone，toputonhercap!
ShebeginsthedaybythefiresidewiththeNewTestamentinherhands，anoldvolumewithitsloosepagesbeautifullyrefixed，anditscoverssewnandresewnbyher，sothatyouwouldsayitcanneverfalltopieces。Itisminenow，andtometheblackthreadswithwhichshestitcheditareaspartofthecontents。Otherbooksshereadintheordinarymanner，butthisonedifferently，herlipsmovingwitheachwordasifshewerereadingaloud，andherfaceverysolemn。TheTestamentliesopenonherlaplongaftershehasceasedtoread，andtheexpressionofherfacehasnotchanged。
Ihaveseenherreadingotherbooksearlyinthedaybutneverwithoutaguiltylookonherface，forshethoughtreadingwasscarcerespectableuntilnighthadcome。Shespendstheforenooninwhatshecallsdoingnothing，whichmayconsistinstitchingsohardthatyouwouldswearshewasanover—workedseamstressatitforherlife，oryouwillfindheronatablewithnailsinhermouth，andanonshehastobechasedfromthegarret（shehassuddenlydecidedtochangehercurtains），orsheisunderthebedsearchingforband—boxesandaskingsternlywherewehaveputthatbonnet。Onthewholesheisbehavinginamostexemplarywayto—
day（notoncehavewecaughthertryingtogooutintothewashing—
house），andwecomplimentheratdinner—time，partlybecauseshedeservesit，andpartlytomakeherthinkherselfsogoodthatshewilleatsomething，justtomaintainhernewcharacter。Iquestionwhetheronehourofallherlifewasgiventothoughtsoffood；inhergreatdaystoeatseemedtohertobewasteoftime，andafterwardssheonlyatetoboastofit，assomethingshehaddonetopleaseus。Sheseldomrememberedwhethershehaddined，butalwayspresumedshehad，andwhileshewastellingmeinallgoodfaithwhatthemealconsistedof，itmightbebroughtin。WheninLondonIhadtoheardailywhatshewaseating，andperhapsshehadrefusedalldishesuntiltheyproducedthepenandink。Thesewereflourishedbeforeher，andthenshewouldsaywithasigh，’TellhimIamtoeatanegg。’Buttheywerenotsoeasilydeceived；
theywaited，peninhand，untiltheeggwaseaten。
Shenever’wentforawalk’inherlife。Manylongtrudgesshehadasagirlwhenshecarriedherfather’sdinnerinaflagontothecountryplacewherehewasatwork，buttowalkwithnoendsavethegoodofyourhealthseemedaverydrollproceedingtoher。Inheryoungdays，shewaspositive，noonehadevergoneforawalk，andsheneverlostthebeliefthatitwasanabsurdityintroducedbyanewgenerationwithtoomuchtimeontheirhands。Thattheyenjoyeditshecouldnotbelieve；itwasmerelyaformofshowingoff，andastheypassedherwindowshewouldremarktoherselfwithblastingsatire，’Ay，Jeames，areyouoffforyourwalk？’andaddfervently，’Ratheryouthanme!’Iwasoneofthosewhowalked，andthoughshesmiled，andmightdropasarcasticwordwhenshesawmeputtingonmyboots，itwasshewhohadheatedtheminpreparationformygoing。Thearrangementbetweenuswasthatsheshouldliedownuntilmyreturn，andtoensureitsbeingcarriedoutIsawherinbedbeforeIstarted，butwiththebangofthedoorshewouldbeatthewindowtowatchmego：thereisonespotontheroadwhereathousandtimesIhaveturnedtowavemysticktoher，whileshenoddedandsmiledandkissedherhandtome。
ThatkissingofthehandwastheoneEnglishcustomshehadlearned。
InanhourorsoIreturn，andperhapsfindherinbed，accordingtopromise，butstillIamsuspicious。Thewaytoherdetectioniscircuitous。
’I’llneedtoberisingnow，’shesays，withayawnthatmaybegenuine。
’Howlonghaveyoubeeninbed？’
’Yousawmego。’
’AndthenIsawyouatthewindow。Didyougostraightbacktobed？’
’SurelyIhadthatmuchsense。’
’Thetruth!’
’Imighthavetakenalookattheclockfirst。’
’Itisaterriblethingtohaveamotherwhoprevaricates。HaveyoubeenlyingdowneversinceIleft？’
’Thereabout。’
’Whatdoesthatmeanexactly？’
’Offandon。’
’Haveyoubeentothegarret？’
’WhatshouldIdointhegarret？’
’Buthaveyou？’
’Imightjusthavelookedupthegarretstair。’
’Youhavebeenreddingupthegarretagain!’
’Notwhatyoucouldcallareddup。’
’O，woman，woman，Ibelieveyouhavenotbeeninbedatall!’
’Youseemeinit。’
’Myopinionisthatyoujumpedintobedwhenyouheardmeopenthedoor。’
’Havers。’
’Didyou？’
’No。’
’Well，then，whenyouheardmeatthegate？’
’ItmighthavebeenwhenIheardyouatthegate。’
Asdaylightgoesshefollowsitwithhersewingtothewindow，andgetsanotherneedlefuloutofit，asonemayrunafteradepartedvisitorforalastword，butnowthegasislit，andnolongerisitshamefultositdowntoliterature。IfthebookbeastorybyGeorgeEliotorMrs。Oliphant，herfavourites（andmine）amongwomennovelists，orifitbeaCarlyle，andwemovesoftly，shewillread，entranced，forhours。HerdelightinCarlylewassowellknownthatvariousgoodpeoplewouldsendherbooksthatcontainedapageabouthim；shecouldplaceherfingeronanypassagewantedinthebiographyaspromptlyasthoughshewerelookingforsomearticleinherowndrawer，andgivenadateshewasoftenabletotellyouwhattheyweredoinginCheyneRowthatday。Carlyle，shedecided，wasnotsomuchanillmantolivewithasonewhoneededadealofmanaging，butwhenIaskedifshethoughtshecouldhavemanagedhimsheonlyrepliedwithamodestsmilethatmeant’Ohno!’buthadthefaceof’Sal，Iwouldhavelikedtotry。’
OneladylenthersomescoresofCarlylelettersthathaveneverbeenpublished，andcrabbedwasthewriting，butthoughmymotherlikedtohaveourlettersreadaloudtoher，shereadeveryoneoftheseherself，andwouldquotefromtheminhertalk。SidebysidewiththeCarlyleletters，whichshowhiminhismostgraciouslight，weremanyfromhiswifetoafriend，andinoneofthesearomanticadventureisdescribed—Iquotefrommemory，anditisapoormemorycomparedtomymother’s，whichregisteredeverythingbyamethodofherown：’WhatmightbetheageofBellTibbits？Well，shewasborntheweekIboughttheboiler，soshe’llbeone—and—
fifty（noless!）comeMartinmas。’Mrs。CarlylehadgotintothetrainataLondonstationandwasfeelingverylonely，forthejourneytoScotlandlaybeforeherandnoonehadcometoseeheroff。Then，justasthetrainwasstarting，amanjumpedintothecarriage，toherregretuntilshesawhisface，when，behold，theywereoldfriends，andthelasttimetheymet（Iforgethowmanyyearsbefore）hehadaskedhertobehiswife。Hewasverynice，andifIrememberaright，sawhertoherjourney’send，thoughhehadintendedtoalightatsomehalf—wayplace。Icallthisanadventure，andIamsureitseemedtomymothertobethemosttouchingandmemorableadventurethatcancomeintoawoman’slife。
’Youseehehadnaforgot，’shewouldsayproudly，asifthiswasacomplimentinwhichallhersexcouldshare，andonheroldtenderfaceshonesomeoftheelationwithwhichMrs。Carlylewrotethatletter。
Butthereweretimes，sheheld，whenCarlylemusthavemadehiswifeagloriouswoman。’Aswhen？’Imightinquire。
’Whenshekeekedinathisstudydoorandsaidtoherself，"Thewholeworldisringingwithhisfame，andheismyman!"’
’Andthen，’Imightpointout，’hewouldroartohertoshutthedoor。’
’Pooh!’saidmymother，’aman’sroarisneitherherenorthere。’
Butherverdictasawholewas，’Iwouldratherhavebeenhismotherthanhiswife。’
SowehavegotherintoherchairwiththeCarlyles，andalliswell。Furthermore，’tomaksiccar，’myfatherhastakentheoppositesideofthefireplaceandisdeepinthelatestfivecolumnsofGladstone，whoishisCarlyle。Heistoseethatshedoesnotslipawayfiredbyaconviction，whichsuddenlyoverridesherpages，thatthekitchenisgoingtorackandruinforwantofher，andsheistorecallhimtohimselfshouldheputhisfootinthefireandkeepitthere，forgetfulofallsavehishero’seloquence。（Wewereafamilywhoneededadealofwatching。）SheisnotinterestedinwhatMr。Gladstonehastosay；indeedshecouldneverbebroughttolookuponpoliticsasofseriousconcernforgrownfolk（aclassinwhichshescarcelyincludedman），andshegratefullygaveupreading’leaders’thedayIceasedtowritethem。Butlikewantofreasonableness，aloveforhavingthelastword，wantofhumourandthelike，politicswereinheropinionamannishattributetobetolerated，andGladstonewasthenameofthesomethingwhichmakesalloursexsuchqueercharacters。Shehadaprofoundfaithinhimasanaidtoconversation，andifthereweresilentmeninthecompanywouldgivehimtothemtotalkabout，preciselyasshedividedacakeamongchildren。Andthen，withamotherlysmile，shewouldleavethemtogorgeonhim。ButintheidolisingofGladstonesherecognised，nevertheless，acertaininevitability，andwouldnomorehavetriedtocontendwithitthantosweepashadowoffthefloor。Gladstonewas，andtherewasanendofitinherpracticalphilosophy。Nordidsheaccepthimcoldly；likeatruewomanshesympathisedwiththosewhosufferedseverely，andtheyknewitandtookcounselofherinthehourofneed。IrememberoneardentGladstonianwho，asageneralelectiondrewnear，wasinsorestraitsindeed，forhedisbelievedinHomeRule，andyethowcouldhevoteagainst’Gladstone’sman’？
Hisdistresswassorealthatitgavehimahang—dogappearance。
Heputhiscasegloomilybeforeher，anduntilthedayoftheelectionsheriddledhimwithsarcasm；IthinkheonlywenttoherbecausehefoundamournfulenjoymentinseeingafalseGladstoniantortured。
Itwasallsuchplain—sailingforhim，shepointedout；hedidnotlikethisHomeRule，andthereforehemustvoteagainstit。
Sheputitpitifulclear，herepliedwithagroan。
Butshewaslikeanotherwomantohimwhenheappearedbeforeheronhiswaytothepolling—booth。
’ThisisawaterySabbathtoyou，I’mthinking，’shesaidsympathetically，butwithoutdroppingherwires—forHomeRuleornoHomeRulethatstocking—footmustbeturnedbeforetwelveo’clock。
AwaterySabbathmeansadolefulday，and’AwaterySabbathitis，’
herepliedwithfeeling。Asilencefollowed，brokenonlybytheclickofthewires。Nowandagainhewouldmutter，’Ay，well，I’llbegoingtovote—littledidIthinkthedaywouldcome，’andsoon，butifheroseitwasonlytositdownagain，andatlastshecrossedovertohimandsaidsoftly，（nosarcasminhervoicenow），’Awaywithyou，andvoteforGladstone’sman!’Hejumpedupandmadeoffwithoutaword，butfromtheeastwindowwewatchedhimstruttingdownthebrae。Ilaughed，butshesaid，’I’mnosurethatit’salaughingmatter，’andafterwards，’IwouldhavelikedfinetobethatGladstone’smother。’
Itisnineo’clocknow，aquarter—pastnine，half—pastnine—allthesamemomenttome，forIamatasentencethatwillnotwrite。
Iknow，thoughIcan’thear，whatmysisterhasgoneupstairstosaytomymother：—
’Iwasinathimatnine，andhesaid，"Infiveminutes，"soIputthesteakonthebrander，butI’vebeeninthricesincethen，andeverytimehesays，"Infiveminutes，"andwhenItrytotakethetable—coveroff，hepresseshiselbowshardonit，andgrowls。Hissupperwillbecompletelyspoilt。’
’Oh，thatwearywriting!’
’Icandonomore，mother，soyoumustcomedownandstophim。’
’Ihavenopoweroverhim，’mymothersays，butsherisessmiling，andpresentlysheisopeningmydoor。
’Infiveminutes!’Icry，butwhenIseethatitissheIriseandputmyarmroundher。’Whatafullbasket!’shesays，lookingatthewaste—paperbasket，whichcontainsmostofmyworkofthenightandwithadeargesturesheliftsupatornpageandkissesit。
’Poorthing，’shesaystoit，’andyouwouldhavelikedsofinetobeprinted!’andsheputsherhandovermydesktopreventmywritingmore。
’Inthelastfiveminutes，’Ibegin，’onecanoftendomorethaninthefirsthour。’
’ManyatimeI’vesaiditinmyyoungdays，’shesaysslowly。
’Andprovedit，too!’criesavoicefromthedoor，thevoiceofonewhowasprouderofhereventhanI；itistrue，andyetalmostunbelievable，thatanyonecouldhavebeenprouderofherthanI。
’Butthosedaysaregone，’mymothersayssolemnly，’gonetocomebacknomore。You’llputbyyourworknow，man，andhaveyoursupper，andthenyou’llcomeupandsitbesideyourmotherforawhiley，forsoonyou’llbeputtingherawayinthekirk—yard。’
Ihearsuchalittlecryfromnearthedoor。
SomymotherandIgoupthestairtogether。’Wehavechangedplaces，’shesays；’thatwasjusthowIusedtohelpyouup，butI’mthebairnnow。’
ShebringsouttheTestamentagain；itwasalwayslyingwithinreach；itisthelockofhairsheleftmewhenshedied。Andwhenshehasreadforalongtimeshe’givesmealook，’aswesayinthenorth，andIgoout，toleaveheralonewithGod。Shehadbeenbutachildwhenhermotherdied，andsoshefellearlyintothewayofsayingherprayerswithnoearthlylistener。OftenandoftenIhavefoundheronherknees，butIalwayswentsoftlyaway，closingthedoor。Ineverheardherpray，butIknowverywellhowsheprayed，andthat，whenthatdoorwasshut，therewasnotadayinGod’ssightbetweenthewornwomanandthelittlechild。
CHAPTERVI—HERMAIDOFALLWORK
AndsometimesIwashermaidofallwork。
Itisearlymorn，andmymotherhascomenoiselesslyintomyroom。
Iknowitisshe，thoughmyeyesareshut，andIamonlyhalfawake。PerhapsIwasdreamingofher，forIacceptherpresencewithoutsurprise，asifintheawakeningIhadbutseenhergooutatonedoortocomeinatanother。Butsheisspeakingtoherself。
’I’msweertowakenhim—Idoubthewasworkinglate—oh，thatwearywriting—no，Imaunnawakenhim。’
Istartup。Sheiswringingherhands。’Whatiswrong？’Icry，butIknowbeforesheanswers。Mysisterisdownwithoneoftheheadachesagainstwhichevenshecannotfight，andmymother，whobearsphysicalpainasifitwereacomrade，ismostwoebegonewhenherdaughteristhesufferer。’Andshewinnaletmegodownthestairtomakeacupofteaforher，’shegroans。
’Iwillsoonmakethetea，mother。’
’Willyou？’shesayseagerly。Itiswhatshehascometomefor，but’Itisapitytorouseyou，’shesays。
’AndIwilltakechargeofthehouseto—day，andlightthefiresandwashthedishes—’
’Na，ohno；no，Icouldnaaskthatofyou，andyouanauthor。’
’Itwon’tbethefirsttime，mother，sinceIwasanauthor。’
’Morelikethefiftieth!’shesaysalmostgleefully，soIhavebegunwell，fortokeepupherspiritsisthegreatthingto—day。
Knockatthedoor。Itisthebaker。Itakeinthebread，lookingsosternlyathimthathedarenotsmile。
Knockatthedoor。Itisthepostman。（IhopehedidnotseethatIhadthelidofthekettleinmyotherhand。）
Furiousknockinginaremotepart。Thismeansthattheauthorisinthecoalcellar。
AnonIcarrytwobreakfastsupstairsintriumph。Ienterthebedroomlikenomerehumdrumson，butafterthemanneroftheGlasgowwaiter。Imustsaymoreabouthim。Hehadbeenmymother’sonewaiter，theonlymanservantsheevercameincontactwith，andtheyhadmetinaGlasgowhotelwhichshewaseagertosee，havingheardofthemonstrousthings，andconceivedthemtoresemblecountryinnswithanothertwelvebedrooms。Irememberhowshebeamed—yettriedtolookasifitwasquiteanordinaryexperience—whenwealightedatthehoteldoor，butthoughshesaidnothingIsoonreaddisappointmentinherface。SheknewhowIwasexultinginhavingherthere，sowouldnotsayawordtodampme，butIcraftilydrewitoutofher。No，shewasverycomfortable，andthehousewasgrandbeyondspeech，but—but—
wherewashe？hehadnotbeenveryhearty。’He’wasthelandlord；
shehadexpectedhimtoreceiveusatthedoorandaskifwewereingoodhealthandhowwehadlefttheothers，andthenshewouldhaveaskedhimifhiswifewaswellandhowmanychildrentheyhad，afterwhichweshouldallhavesatdowntogethertodinner。Twochambermaidscameintoherroomandprepareditwithoutasinglewordtoheraboutherjourneyoronanyothersubject，andwhentheyhadgone，’Theyaretwohaughtymisses，’saidmymotherwithspirit。Butwhatshemostresentedwasthewaiterwithhisswaggerblacksuitandshortquickstepsandthe’towel’overhisarm。
Withoutsomuchasa’WelcometoGlasgow!’heshowedustoourseats，notthesmallestacknowledgmentofourkindnessingivingsuchmunificentordersdidwedrawfromhim，hehoveredaroundthetableasifitwouldbeunsafetoleaveuswithhisknivesandforks（heshouldhaveseenherknivesandforks），whenwespoketoeachotherheaffectednottohear，wemightlaughbutthisuppishfellowwouldnotjoinin。Weretired，crushed，andhehadthefinalimpudencetoopenthedoorforus。Butthoughthishurtmymotheratthetime，thehumourofourexperiencesfilledheronreflection，andinherownhouseshewoulddescribethemwithunction，sometimestothosewhohadbeeninmanyhotels，oftentootherswhohadbeeninnone，andwhoeverwereherlistenersshemadethemlaugh，thoughnotalwaysatthesamething。
SonowwhenIenterthebedroomwiththetray，onmyarmisthatbadgeofpride，thetowel；andIapproachwithprimstepstoinformMadamthatbreakfastisready，andsheputsonthesocietymannerandaddressesmeas’Sir，’andaskswithcruelsarcasmforwhatpurpose（excepttoboast）Icarrythetowel，andIsay’IsthereanythingmoreIcandoforMadam？’andMadamrepliesthatthereisonemorethingIcando，andthatis，eatherbreakfastforher。
ButofthisItakenonotice，formyobjectistofireherwiththespiritofthegame，sothatsheeatsunwittingly。
NowthatIhavewashedupthebreakfastthingsIshouldbeatmywriting，andIamanxioustobeatit，asIhaveanideainmyhead，which，ifitisofanyvalue，hasalmostcertainlybeenputtherebyher。ButdareIventure？Iknowthatthehousehasnotbeenproperlysetgoingyet，therearebedstomake，theexterioroftheteapotisfair，butsupposesomeoneweretolookinside？
WhatapityIknockedovertheflour—barrel!CanIhopethatforoncemymotherwillforgettoinquireintothesematters？Ismysisterwillingtoletdisorderreignuntilto—morrow？Ideterminetoriskit。PerhapsIhavebeenatworkforhalfanhourwhenI
hearmovementsoverhead。Oneorotherofthemiswonderingwhythehouseissoquiet。Irattlethetongs，buteventhisdoesnotsatisfythem，sobackintothedeskgomypapers，andnowwhatyouhearisnotthescrapeofapenbuttherinsingofpotsandpans，orIammakingbeds，andmakingthemthoroughly，becauseafterIamgonemymotherwillcome（Iknowher）andlooksuspiciouslybeneaththecoverlet。
Thekitchenisnowspeckless，notanunwashedplatterinsight，unlessyoulookbeneaththetable。IfeelthatIhaveearnedtimeforanhour’swritingatlast，andatitIgowithvigour。Onepage，twopages，reallyIammakingprogress，when—wasthatadooropening？ButIhavemymother’slightsteponthebrain，soI
’yoke’again，andnextmomentsheisbesideme。Shehasnotexactlyleftherroom，shegivesmetounderstand；butsuddenlyaconvictionhadcometoherthatIwaswritingwithoutawarmmatatmyfeet。Shecarriesoneinherhands。Nowthatsheisheresheremainsforatime，andthoughsheisinthearm—chairbythefire，whereshesitsboltupright（shelovedtohavecushionsontheunusedchairs，butdetestedputtingherbackagainstthem），andI
ambentlowovermydesk，Iknowthatcontentmentandpityarestrugglingforpossessionofherface：contentmentwinswhenshesurveysherroom，pitywhenshelooksatme。Everyarticleoffurniture，fromthechairsthatcameintotheworldwithmeandhavewornsomuchbetter，thoughIwasnewandtheyweresecond—
hand，tothemantle—borderoffashionabledesignwhichshesewedinherseventiethyear，havingpickedupthestitchinhalfalesson，hasitsstoryoffightandattainmentforher，hencehersatisfaction；butshesighsatsightofherson，dippingandtearing，andchewingtheloathlypen。
’Oh，thatwearywriting!’
InvaindoItellherthatwritingisaspleasanttomeaseverwastheprospectofatremendousday’sironingtoher；that（tosome，thoughnottome）newchaptersareaseasytoturnoutasnewbannocks。No，shemaintains，foronebannockisthemarrowsofanother，whilechapters—andthen，perhaps，hereyestwinkle，andsaysshesaucily，’But，sal，youmayberight，forsometimesyourbannocksareasalikeasmine!’
OrImayberousedfrommywritingbyhercrythatIammakingstrangefacesagain。ItismycontemptibleweaknessthatifIsayacharactersmiledvacuously，Imustsmilevacuously；ifhefrownsorleers，Ifrownorleer；ifheisacowardorgiventocontortions，Icringe，ortwistmylegsuntilIhavetostopwritingtoundotheknot。Ibowwithhim，eatwithhim，andgnawmymoustachewithhim。Ifthecharacterbealadywithanexquisitelaugh，Isuddenlyterrifyyoubylaughingexquisitely。
Onereadsoftheastoundingversatilityofanactorwhoisstoutandleanonthesameevening，butwhatishetothenovelistwhoisadozenpersonswithinthehour？Morally，Ifear，wemustdeteriorate—butthisisasubjectImaywiselyedgeawayfrom。
WealwaysspoketoeachotherinbroadScotch（Ithinkinitstill），butnowandagainshewoulduseawordthatwasnewtome，orImighthearoneofhercontemporariesuseit。Nowismyopportunitytoangleforitsmeaning。IfIask，boldly，whatwaschatwordsheusedjustnow，somethinglike’bilbie’or’silvendy’？
sheblushes，andsayssheneversaidanythingsocommon，orhoots!
itissomeauld—farrantwordaboutwhichshecantellmenothing。
ButifinthecourseofconversationIremarkcasually，’Didhefindbilbie？’or’Wasthatquitesilvendy？’（thoughthesenseofthequestionisvaguetome）shefallsintothetrap，andthewordsexplainthemselvesinherreplies。Ormaybeto—daysheseeswhitherIamleadingher，andsuchishersensitivenessthatsheisquitehurt。Thehumourgoesoutofherface（tofindbilbieinsomemoresilvendyspot），andherreproachfuleyes—butnowIamonthearmofherchair，andwehavemadeitup。Nevertheless，I
shallgetnomoreold—worldScotchoutofherthisforenoon，sheweedshertalkdeterminedly，anditisasgreatafallingawayaswhenthemutchgivesplacetothecap。
Iamoffformyafternoonwalk，andshehaspromisedtobarthedoorbehindmeandopenittonone。WhenIreturn，—well，thedoorisstillbarred，butsheislookingbothfurtiveandelated。
Ishouldsaythatsheisburningtotellmesomething，butcannottellitwithoutexposingherself。Hassheopenedthedoor，andifso，why？Idon’task，butIwatch。Itisshewhoisslynow。
’Haveyoubeenintheeastroomsinceyoucamein？’sheasks，withapparentindifference。
’No；whydoyouask？’
’Oh，Ijustthoughtyoumighthavelookedin。’
’Isthereanythingnewthere？’
’Idinnasaythereis，but—butjustgoandsee。’
’Therecan’tbeanythingnewifyoukeptthedoorbarred，’Isaycleverly。
Thiscrushesherforamoment；buthereagernessthatIshouldseeisgreaterthanherfear。Isetofffortheeastroom，andshefollows，affectinghumility，butwithtriumphinhereye。Howoftenthoselittlescenestookplace!Iwasnevertoldofthenewpurchase，Iwasluredintoitspresence，andthenshewaitedtimidlyformystartofsurprise。
’Doyouseeit？’shesaysanxiously，andIseeit，andhearit，forthistimeitisabran—newwickerchair，ofthekindthatwhispertothemselvesforthefirstsixmonths。
’Agoing—aboutbodywassellingtheminacart，’mymotherbegins，andwhatfollowedpresentsitselftomyeyesbeforeshecanutteranotherword。Tenminutesattheleastdidshestandatthedoorargy—bargyingwiththatman。Butitwouldbecrueltytoscoldawomansouplifted。
’Fifteenshillingshewanted，’shecries，’butwhatdoyouthinkI
beathimdownto？’
’Sevenandsixpence？’
Sheclapsherhandswithdelight。’Fourshillings，asI’malivingwoman!’shecrows：neverwasawomanfonderofabargain。
Igazeatthepurchasewiththeamazementexpectedofme，andthechairitselfcrinklesandshudderstohearwhatitwentfor（orisitmerelychucklingather？）。’Andthemansaiditcosthimselffiveshillings，’mymothercontinuesexultantly。Youwouldhavethoughtherthehardestpersonhadnotaknockonthewallsummonedusaboutthistimetomysister’sside。Thoughinbedshehasbeenlistening，andthisiswhatshehastosay，inavoicethatmakesmymotherveryindignant，’Youdriveabargain!I’mthinkingtenshillingswasnearerwhatyoupaid。’
’Fourshillingstoapenny!’saysmymother。
’Idaresay，’saysmysister；’butafteryoupaidhimthemoneyI
heardyouinthelittlebedroompress。Whatwereyoudoingthere？’
Mymotherwinces。’Imayhavegivenhimapresentofanoldtopcoat，’shefalters。’Helookedill—happit。ButthatwasafterImadethebargain。’
’Weretherebairnsinthecart？’
’Theremighthavebeenabitlassieinthecart。’
’Ithoughtasmuch。Whatdidyougiveher？Iheardyouinthepantry。’
’FourshillingswaswhatIgotthatchairfor，’repliesmymotherfirmly。IfIdon’tinterferetherewillbeacoldnessbetweenthemforatleastaminute。’Thereisbloodonyourfinger，’Isaytomymother。
’Sothereis，’shesays，concealingherhand。
’Blood!’exclaimsmysisteranxiously，andthenwithacryoftriumph，’Iwarrantit’sjelly。Yougavethatlassieoneofthejellycans!’
TheGlasgowwaiterbringsuptea，andpresentlymysisterisabletorise，andafterasharpfightIamexpelledfromthekitchen。
ThelastthingIdoasmaidofallworkistolugupstairstheclothes—basketwhichhasjustarrivedwiththemangling。Nowthereisdeliciouslinenformymothertofinger；therewasalwaysraptureonherfacewhentheclothes—basketcamein；itneverfailedtomakeheroncemoretheactivegeniusofthehouse。Imayleavehernowwithhersheetsandcollarsandnapkinsandfronts。
Indeed，sheprobablyordersmetogo。Asonisallverywell，butsupposeheweretotreadonthatcounterpane!
MysisterisbutandIamben—ImeansheisintheeastendandI
aminthewest—tuts，tuts!letusgetattheEnglishofthisbystriving：sheisinthekitchenandIamatmydeskintheparlour。
IhopeImaynotbedisturbed，forto—nightImustmakemyherosay’Darling，’anditneedsbothprivacyandconcentration。Inaword，letmeadmit（thoughIshouldliketobeataboutthebush）thatI
havesatdowntoalove—chapter。Toolonghasitbeenavoided，AlberthascalledMarion’dear’onlyasyet（betweenyouandmethesearenottheirrealnames），butthoughthepublicwillprobablyreadthewordwithoutblinking，itwentoffinmyhandswithabang。Theytellme—theSassenachtellme—thatintimeI
shallbeablewithoutablushtomakeAlbertsay’darling，’andevengatherherupinhisarms，butIbegintodoubtit；themomentseesmeasshyasever；Istillfinditadvisabletolockthedoor，andthen—nowitnesssavethedog—I’do’itdourlywithmyteethclenched，whilethedogretreatsintothefarcornerandmoans。
ThebolderEnglishman（Iamtold）willwritealove—chapterandthengoout，quitecoolly，todinner，butsuchgoingsonarecontrarytotheScotchnature；eventhegreatnovelistsdarednot。
ConceiveMr。Stevensonleftalonewithahero，aheroine，andaproposalimpending（hedoesnotknowwheretolook）。SirWalterinthesamecircumstancesgetsoutoftheroombymakinghislove—
scenestakeplacebetweentheendofonechapterandthebeginningofthenext，buthecouldaffordtodoanything，andthesmallfrymuste’entotheirtask，moanthedogashemay。SoIhaveyokedtominewhen，entermymother，lookingwistful。
’Isupposeyouareterriblethrang，’shesays。
’Well，Iamratherbusy，but—whatisityouwantmetodo？’
’Itwouldbeashametoaskyou。’
’Still，askme。’
’Iamsoterrifiedtheymaybefiled。’
’Youwantmeto—？’
’Ifyouwouldjustcomeup，andhelpmetofoldthesheets!’
ThesheetsarefoldedandIreturntoAlbert。Ilockthedoor，andatlastIambringingmyheroforwardnicely（mykneeinthesmallofhisback），whenthisstartlingquestionisshotbymysisterthroughthekey—hole—
’Wheredidyouputthecarrot—grater？’
ItwillallhavetobedoneoveragainifIletAlbertgoforamoment，so，grippinghimhard，IshoutindignantlythatIhavenotseenthecarrot—grater。
’Thenwhatdidyougratethecarrotson？’asksthevoice，andthedoor—handleisshakenjustasIshakeAlbert。
’Onabrokencup，’Ireplywithsurprisingreadiness，andIgettoworkagainbutamlessengrossed，foraconvictiongrowsonmethatIputthecarrot—graterinthedrawerofthesewing—machine。
IamwonderingwhetherIshouldconfessorbrazenitout，whenI
hearmysistergoinghurriedlyupstairs。Ihaveapresentimentthatshehasgonetotalkaboutme，andIbaselyopenmydoorandlisten。
’Justlookatthat，mother!’
’Isitadish—cloth？’
’That’swhatitisnow。’
’Loshbehears!it’soneofthenewtable—napkins。’
’That’swhatitwas。Hehasbeenpolishingthekitchengratewithit!’
（Iremember!）
’Woe’sme!Thatiswhatcomesofhisnotlettingmebudgefromthisroom。O，itisawaterySabbathwhenmentaketodoingwomen’swork!’
’Itdefiesthefaceofclay，mother，tofathomwhatmakeshimsosenseless。’
’Oh，it’sthatwearywriting。’
’Andtheworstofitishewilltalkto—morrowasifhehaddonewonders。’
’That’sthewaywiththewholeclanjam—frayofthem。’
’Yes，butasusualyouwillhumourhim，mother。’
’Oh，well，itpleaseshim，yousee，’saysmymother，’andwecanhaveourlaughwhenhisdoor’sshut。’
’Heismostterriblyhandless。’
’Heisallthat，but，poorsoul，hedoeshisbest。’
CHAPTERVII—R。L。S。
Thesefamiliarinitialsare，Isuppose，thebestbelovedinrecentliterature，certainlytheyarethesweetesttome，buttherewasatimewhenmymothercouldnotabidethem。Shesaid’ThatStevensonman’withasneer，and，itwasnevereasytohertosneer。Atthoughtofhimherfacewouldbecomealmosthard，whichseemsincredible，andshewouldknitherlipsandfoldherarms，andreplywithastiff’oh’ifyoumentionedhisaggravatingname。Inthenovelswehaveawayofwritingofourheroine，’shedrewherselfuphaughtily，’andwhenminedrawthemselvesuphaughtilyI
seemymotherthinkingofRobertLouisStevenson。Heknewheropinionofhim，andwouldwrite，’Myearstingledyesterday；Isairdoubtshehasbeenmiscallingmeagain。’Butthemoreshemiscalledhimthemorehedelightedinher，andshewasinformedofthis，andatoncesaid，’Thescoundrel!’Ifyouwouldknowwhatwashisunpardonablecrime，itwasthis：hewrotebetterbooksthanmine。
Irememberthedayshefounditout，whichwasnot，however，thedaysheadmittedit。Thatday，whenIshouldhavebeenatmywork，shecameuponmeinthekitchen，’TheMasterofBallantrae’besideme，butIwasnotreading：myheadlayheavyonthetable，andtoheranxiouseyes，Idoubtnot，Iwasthepictureofwoe。’Notwriting!’Iechoed，no，Iwasnotwriting，Isawnouseinevertryingtowriteagain。Anddown，Isuppose，wentmyheadoncemore。Shemisunderstood，andthoughttheblowhadfallen；Ihadawakenedtothediscovery，alwaysdreadedbyher，thatIhadwrittenmyselfdry；Iwasnobetterthananemptyink—bottle。Shewrungherhands，butindignationcametoherwithmyexplanation，whichwasthatwhileR。L。S。wasatitweotherswereonly’prenticescuttingourfingersonhistools。’Icouldnevertholehisbooks，’saidmymotherimmediately，andindeedvindictively。
’Youhavenotreadanyofthem，’Iremindedher。
’Andneverwill，’saidshewithspirit。
AndIhavenodoubtthatshecalledhimadarkcharacterthatveryday。Forweekstoo，ifnotformonths，sheadheredtoherdeterminationnottoreadhim，thoughI，havingcometomysensesandseenthatthereisaplaceforthe’prentice，wastakingapleasure，almostmalicious，inputting’TheMasterofBallantrae’
inherway。Iwouldplaceitonhertablesothatitsaidgood—
morningtoherwhensherose。Shewouldfrown，andcarryingitdownstairs，asifshehaditinthetongs，replaceitonitsbook—
shelf。IwouldwrapitupinthecovershehadmadeforthelatestCarlyle：shewouldskinitcontemptuouslyandagainbringitdown。
Iwouldhideherspectaclesinit，andlayitontopoftheclothes—basketandpropitupinvitinglyopenagainsthertea—pot。
AndatlastIgother，thoughIforgetbywhichofmanycontrivances。WhatIrecallvividlyisakey—holeview，towhichanothermemberofthefamilyinvitedme。ThenIsawmymotherwrappedupin’TheMasterofBallantrae’andmutteringthemusictoherself，noddingherheadinapproval，andtakingastealthyglanceatthefootofeachpagebeforeshebeganatthetop。Neverthelessshehadanearforthedoor，forwhenIbouncedinshehadbeentoocleverforme；therewasnobooktobeseen，onlyanaprononherlapandshewasgazingoutatthewindow。Somesuchconversationasthisfollowed：—
’Youhavebeensittingveryquietly，mother。’
’Ialwayssitquietly，Ineverdoanything，I’mjustafinishedstocking。’
’Haveyoubeenreading？’
’DoIeverreadatthistimeofday？’
’Whatisthatinyourlap？’
’Justmyapron。’
’Isthatabookbeneaththeapron？’
’Itmightbeabook。’
’Letmesee。’
’Goawaywithyoutoyourwork。’
ButIliftedtheapron。’Why，it’s"TheMasterofBallantrae!"’I
exclaimed，shocked。
’Soitis!’saidmymother，equallysurprised。ButIlookedsternlyather，andperhapssheblushed。
’Wellwhatdoyouthink：notnearlyequaltomine？’saidIwithhumour。
’Nothinglikethem，’shesaiddeterminedly。
’Notabit，’saidI，thoughwhetherwithasmileoragroanisimmaterial；theywouldhavemeantthesamething。ShouldIputthebookbackonitsshelf？Iasked，andsherepliedthatIcouldputitwhereverIlikedforallshecared，solongasItookitoutofhersight（theimplicationwasthatithadstolenontoherlapwhileshewaslookingoutatthewindow）。Mybehaviourmayseemsmall，butIgaveheralastchance，forIsaidthatsomepeoplefounditabooktherewasnoputtingdownuntiltheyreachedthelastpage。
’I’mnothatkind，’repliedmymother。
Neverthelessouroldgamewiththehaverofathing，asshecalledit，wascontinued，withthisdifference，thatitwasnowshewhocarriedthebookcovertlyupstairs，andIwhoreplaceditontheshelf，andseveraltimeswecaughteachotherintheact，butnotawordsaideitherofus；weweregrownself—conscious。MuchoftheplaynodoubtIforget，butoneincidentIrememberclearly。ShehadcomedowntositbesidemewhileIwrote，andsometimes，whenI
lookedup，hereyewasnotonme，butontheshelfwhere’TheMasterofBallantrae’stoodinvitingher。Mr。Stevenson’sbooksarenotfortheshelf，theyareforthehand；evenwhenyoulaythemdown，letitbeonthetableforthenextcomer。Beingthemostsociablethatmanhaspennedinourtime，theyfeelverylonelyupthereinastatelyrow。Ithinktheireyeisonyouthemomentyouentertheroom，andsoyouaredrawntolookatthem，andyoutakeavolumedownwiththeimpulsethatinducesonetounchainthedog。Andtheresultisnotdissimilar，forinanothermomentyoutwoareatplay。Isthereanyothermodernwriterwhogetsroundyouinthisway？Well，hehadgivenmymotherthelookwhichintheball—roommeans，’Askmeforthiswaltz，’andsheettledtodoit，butfeltthathermoredutifulcoursewastositoutthedancewiththisotherlessentertainingpartner。Iwroteondoggedly，butcouldhearthewhispering。
’AmItobeawall—flower？’askedJamesDuriereproachfully。（Itmusthavebeenleap—year。）
’Speaklower，’repliedmymother，withanuneasylookatme。
’Pooh!’saidJamescontemptuously，’thatkail—runtle!’
’Iwinnahavehimmiscalled，’saidmymother，frowning。
’Iamdonewithhim，’saidJames（wipinghiscanewithhiscambrichandkerchief），andhisswordclattereddeliciously（Icannotthinkthiswasaccidental），whichmademymothersigh。Likethemanhewas，hefolloweduphisadvantagewithacomparisonthatmademedipviciously。
’Aprettiersoundthat，’saidhe，clankinghisswordagain，’thantheclack—clackofyouryoungfriend’sshuttle。’
’Whist!’criedmymother，whohadseenmedip。
’Thengivemeyourarm，’saidJames，loweringhisvoice。
’Idarenot，’answeredmymother。’He’ssotouchyaboutyou。’
’Come，come，’hepressedher，’youarecertaintodoitsoonerorlater，sowhynotnow？’
’Waittillhehasgoneforhiswalk，’saidmymother；’and，forbyethat，I’moweroldtodancewithyou。’
’Howoldareyou？’heinquired。
’You’regeyan’pert!’criedmymother。
’Areyouseventy？’
’Offandon，’sheadmitted。
’Pooh，’hesaid，’ameregirl!’
Sherepliedinstantly，’I’mno’tobecatchedwithchaff’；butshesmiledandroseasifhehadstretchedouthishandandgotherbythefinger—tip。
Afterthattheywhisperedsolow（whichtheycoulddoastheywerenowmuchnearereachother）thatIcouldcatchonlyoneremark。ItcamefromJames，andseemstoshowthetenoroftheirwhisperings，forhiswordswere，’Easilyenough，ifyouslipmebeneathyourshawl。’
Thatiswhatshedid，andfurthermoreshelefttheroomguiltily，mutteringsomethingaboutreddingupthedrawers。IsupposeI
smiledwanlytomyself，orconsciencemusthavebeennibblingatmymother，forinlessthanfiveminutesshewasback，carryingheraccompliceopenly，andshethrusthimwithpositiveviciousnessintotheplacewheremyStevensonhadlostatooth（asthewriterwhomhemostresembledwouldhavesaid）。Andthenlikeagoodmothershetookuponeofherson’sbooksandreaditmostdeterminedly。Ithadbecomeatouchingincidenttome，andI
rememberhowwethereandthenagreeduponacompromise：shewastoreadtheenticingthingjusttoconvinceherselfofitsinferiority。
’TheMasterofBallantrae’isnotthebest。Conceivetheglory，whichwasmymother’s，ofknowingfromatrustworthysourcethatthereareatleastthreebetterawaitingyouonthesameshelf。
ShedidnotknowAlanBreckyet，andhewasasanxioustostepdownasMr。Ballyhimself。JohnSilverwasthere，gettingintohisleg，sothatsheshouldnothavetowaitamoment，androaring，’I’lllaytothat!’whenshetoldmeconsolinglythatshecouldnottholepiratestories。Nottoknowthesegentlemen，whatisitlike？Itislikeneverhavingbeeninlove。Buttheyareinthehouse!
Thatislikeknowingthatyouwillfallinloveto—morrowmorning。
Withoneword，bydrawingonemournfulface，Icouldhavegotmymothertoabjurethejam—shelf—nay，Imighthavemanageditbymerelysayingthatshehadenjoyed’TheMasterofBallantrae。’Foryoumustrememberthatsheonlyreadittopersuadeherself（andme）ofitsunworthiness，andthatthereasonshewantedtoreadtheotherswastogetfurtherproof。Allthisshemadeplaintome，eyeingmealittleanxiouslythewhile，andofcourseIacceptedtheexplanation。Alanisthebiggestchildofthemall，andI
doubtnotthatshethoughtso，butcuriouslyenoughherviewsofhimareamongthethingsIhaveforgotten。Buthowenamouredshewasof’TreasureIsland，’andhowfaithfulshetriedtobetomeallthetimeshewasreadingit!IhadtoputmyhandsoverhereyestoletherknowthatIhadenteredtheroom，andeventhenshemighttrytoreadbetweenmyfingers，comingtoherselfpresently，however，tosay’It’sahaverofabook。’
’Thosepiratestoriesaresouninteresting，’Iwouldreplywithoutfear，forshewastooengrossedtoseethroughme。’Doyouthinkyouwillfinishthisone？’
’ImayaswellgoonwithitsinceIhavebegunit，’mymothersays，soslylythatmysisterandIshakeourheadsateachothertoimply，’Wasthereeversuchawoman!’
’Therearenoneofthoseone—leggedscoundrelsinmybooks，’Isay。
’Betterwithoutthem，’sherepliespromptly。
’Iwonder，mother，whatitisaboutthemanthatsoinfatuatesthepublic？’
’Hetakesnoholdofme，’sheinsists。’Iwouldahantleratherreadyourbooks。’
Iofferobliginglytobringoneofthemtoher，andnowshelooksatmesuspiciously。’YousurelybelieveIlikeyoursbest，’shesayswithinstantanxiety，andIsootheherbyassurances，andretireadvisinghertoreadon，justtoseeifshecanfindouthowhemisleadsthepublic。’Oh，Imaytakealookatitagainby—and—
by，’shesaysindifferently，butneverthelesstheprobabilityisthatasthedoorshutsthebookopens，asifbysomemechanicalcontrivance。Irememberhowsheread’TreasureIsland，’holdingitclosetotheribsofthefire（becauseshecouldnotspareamomenttoriseandlightthegas），andhow，whenbed—timecame，andwecoaxed，remonstrated，scolded，shesaidquitefiercely，clingingtothebook，’IdinnalaymyheadonapillowthisnighttillIseehowthatladdiegotoutofthebarrel。’
Afterthis，Ithink，hewasasbewitchingastheladdieinthebarreltoher—Washenotalwaysaladdieinthebarrelhimself，climbinginforappleswhileweallstoodaround，likegamins，waitingforabite？Hewasthespiritofboyhoodtuggingattheskirtsofthisoldworldofoursandcompellingittocomebackandplay。AndIsupposemymotherfeltthis，assomanyhavefeltit：
likeothersshewasalittlescaredatfirsttofindherselfskippingagain，withthismasterfulchildattherope，butsoonshegavehimherhandandsetoffwithhimforthemeadow，notanapologybetweenthetwoofthemfortheauthorleftbehind。Butneartotheenddidsheadmit（inwords）thathehadawaywithhimwhichwasbeyondherson。’Silkandsacking，thatiswhatweare，’
shewasinformed，towhichshewouldreplyobstinately，’Well，then，Iprefersacking。’
’Butifhehadbeenyourson？’
’Butheisnot。’
’Youwishhewere？’
’IdinnadenybutwhatIcouldhavefoundroomforhim。’
Andstillattimesshewouldsmearhimwiththenameofblack（tohisdelightwhenhelearnedthereason）。Thatwaswhensomepodgyred—sealedblue—crossedletterarrivedfromVailima，invitingmetojourneythither。（Hisdirectionswere，’YoutaketheboatatSanFrancisco，andthenmyplaceisthesecondtotheleft。’）EvenLondonseemedtohertocarrymesofarawaythatIoftentookaweektothejourney（thefirstsixdaysingettingherusedtotheidea），andtheselettersterrifiedher。ItwasnotthefingerofJimHawkinsshenowsawbeckoningmeacrosstheseas，itwasJohnSilver，wavingacrutch。Seldom，Ibelieve，didIreadstraightthroughoneoftheseVailimaletters；wheninthemiddleIsuddenlyrememberedwhowasupstairsandwhatshewasprobablydoing，andI
rantoher，threestepsatajump，tofindher，lipspursed，handsfolded，apictureofgloom。