Facing Death; Or, The Hero of the Vaughan Pit: A Tale of the Coal Mines
Page 21
CHAPTER XXI.
A KNOTTY QUESTION.
It has not been mentioned that at the fete at Mr. Brook's on thememorable occasion of the Black Feast, Mr. Merton and his daughter werestaying as guests with Mr. Brook. Mr. Merton was much struck with theextraordinary improvement which had taken place in the bearing andappearance of the young people.
"Yes," Mr. Dodgson, whom he congratulated upon the change, said; "it isentirely due to the suggestion which you made upon my arrival here. Thenight-schools for lads and the sewing and cooking classes for the girlshave done wonders, and I have found in the lad you recommended to myattention, Jack Simpson, an invaluable ally. Without him, indeed, Ithink that our plan would have been a failure. He is a singular youngfellow, so quiet yet so determined; the influence he has over the ladsof his own age is immense."
"He is more than singular," Mr. Merton said warmly; "he isextraordinary. You only see one side of his character, I see both. As ascholar he is altogether remarkable. He could carry off any openscholarship at Cambridge, and could take away the highest honours; hecould pass high up among the wranglers even now, and has a broad andsolid knowledge of other subjects."
"Indeed!" Mr. Dodgson said, surprised; "this is quite new to me. I knowthat he studies hard privately, and that he went over to see you once amonth, but I had no idea that his acquirements were anythingexceptional, and, indeed, although his speech is often superior to thatof the other young fellows, he often makes mistakes in grammar andpronunciation."
Mr. Merton laughed. "That is one of his peculiarities; he does not wishto be thought above his fellows: look at his dress, now! But if you sawhim with me, and heard him talking with the first men of education andscience in Birmingham you would share the astonishment they oftenexpress to me, and would take him not only for a young gentleman, butfor one of singular and exceptionally cultured mind."
Jack's attire, indeed--it was after the conclusion of the cricket-match,and he had changed his clothes--was that of the ordinary pitman in hisSunday suit. A black cutaway coat, badly fitting, and made by thevillage tailor, a black waistcoat and trousers, with thick high-lowshoes. His appearance had attracted the attention of Miss Merton, who,as he approached her, held out her hand.
"How are you, Jack? What on earth have you been doing to yourself? Youlook a complete guy in these clothes. I was half tempted to cut youdownright."
Jack laughed.
"This is my Sunday suit, Miss Merton, it is just the same as otherpeople's."
"Perhaps it is," the girl said, laughing, and looking round with just alittle curl of her lip; "but you know better, Jack: why should you makesuch a figure of yourself?"
"I dress here like what I am," Jack said simply, "a pitman. At yourhouse I dress as one of your father's guests."
"I suppose you please yourself, and that you always do, Mr. JackSimpson; you are the most obstinate, incorrigible--"
"Ruffian," Jack put in laughing.
"Well, I don't know about ruffian," the girl said, laughing too; "but,Jack, who is that girl watching us, the quiet-looking girl in a darkbrown dress and straw bonnet?"
"That is my friend Nelly Hardy," Jack said seriously.
"Yes, you have often spoken to me about her and I have wanted to seeher; what a nice face she has, and handsome too, with her great darkeyes! Jack, you must introduce me to her, I should like to know her."
"Certainly," Jack said with a pleased look; and accompanied by Alice hewalked across the lawn towards her.
Nelly turned the instant that they moved, and walking away joined someother girls. Jack, however, followed.
"Nelly," he said, when he reached her, "this is Miss Merton, who wantsto know you. Miss Merton, this is my friend Nelly Hardy."
Nelly bent her head silently, but Alice held out her hand frankly.
"Jack has told me so much about you," she said, "that I wanted, aboveall things, to see you."
Nelly looked steadily up into her face. It was a face any one might lookat with pleasure, frank, joyous, and kindly. It was an earnest face too,less marked and earnest than that now looking at her, but with lines ofcharacter and firmness.
Nelly's expression softened as she gazed.
"You are very good, Miss Merton; I have often heard of you too, andwanted to see you as much as you could have done to see me."
"I hope you like me now you do see me," Miss Merton laughed; "you won'tbe angry when I say that I like you, though you did turn away when yousaw us coming.
"You are accustomed to meet people and be introduced," Nelly saidquietly; "I am not, you see."
"I don't think you are shy," Miss Merton said smiling, "but you had areason; perhaps some day when we know each other better you will tellme. I have been scolding Jack for making such a figure of himself. Youare his friend and should not let him do it."
Jack laughed, while Nelly looked in surprise at him.
"What is the matter with him?" she asked; "I don't see that there isanything wrong."
"Not wrong," Miss Merton said, "only singular to me. He has got onclothes just like all the rest, which don't fit him at all, and look asif they had been made to put on to a wooden figure in a shop window,while when we see him he is always properly dressed."
Nelly flashed a quiet look of inquiry at Jack.
"You never told me, Jack," she said, with an aggrieved ring in hervoice, "that you dressed differently at Birmingham to what you do here."
"There was nothing to tell really," he said quietly. "I told you that Ihad had some clothes made there, and always wore them at Mr. Merton's;but I don't know," and he smiled, "that I did enter into any particularsabout their cut, indeed I never thought of this myself."
"I don't suppose you did, Jack," the girl said gently, for she knew howabsolutely truthful he was; "but you ought to have told me. But see,they are getting ready to go into the tent, and I must help look afterthe young ones."
"What a fine face she has!" Alice said; "but I don't think she quitelikes me, Jack."
"Not like you!" Jack said astonished, "what makes you think that? shewas sure to like you; why, even if nobody else liked you Nelly would,because you have been so kind to me."
* * * * *
For the next few days the serious events of the night absorbed allthought; indeed, it was not until the following Sunday afternoon thatJack and Nelly Hardy met. Harry Shepherd, who generally accompanied themin their walks upon this day, was still suffering from the effects ofthe injuries he had received in the riot. Jack and his companion talkedover that event until they turned to come back.
Then after a pause the girl asked suddenly, "How do you like AliceMerton, Jack?"
Jack was in no way taken by surprise, but, ignorant that the black eyeswere keenly watching him, he replied:
"Oh, I like her very much, I have often told you so, Nelly."
"Do you like her better than me, Jack?"
Jack looked surprised this time.
"What should put such a thought in your head, lass? You know I like youand Harry better than any one in the world. We are like three brothers.It is not likely I should like Alice Merton, whom I only see once amonth, better than you. She is very kind, very pleasant, very bright.She treats me as an equal and I would do anything for her, but shecouldn't be the same as you are, no one can. Perhaps," he said, "yearson--for you know that I have always said that I should not marry tillI'm thirty, that's what my good friend told me more than ten yearsago--I shall find some one I shall like as well as you, but that will bein a different way, and you will be married years and years beforethat. Let me think, you are nearly seventeen, Nelly?" The girl nodded,her face was turned the other way. "Yes, you are above a year youngerthan I am. Some girls marry by seventeen; I wonder no one has been afteryou already, Nelly; there is no girl in the village to compare withyou."
But Nelly, without a word, darted away at full speed up the lane towardshome, leaving Jack speechless with astonishment. "She hasn't done thatfor years," he sa
id; "it's just the way she used to do when we werefirst friends. If she got in a temper about anything she would rush awayand hide herself and cry for hours. What could I have said to vex her,about her marrying, or having some one courting her; there couldn't beanything in that to vex her." Jack thought for some time, sitting upon astile the better to give his mind to it. Finally he gave up the problemin despair, grumbling to himself, "One never gets to understand girls;here I've known Nelly for the last seven years like a sister, and thereshe flies away crying--I am sure she was crying, because she always usedto cry when she ran away--and what it is about I have not the leastidea. Now I mustn't say anything about it when I meet her next, I knowthat of old, unless she does first, but as likely as not she will neverallude to it."
In fact no allusion ever was made to the circumstance, for before thefollowing Sunday came round John Hardy had died. He had been sinking formonths, and his death had been looked for for some time. It was not ablow to his daughter, and could hardly be a great grief, for he had beena drunken, worthless man, caring nothing for his child, and frequentlybrutally assaulting her in his drunken fits. She had attended himpatiently and assiduously for months, but no word of thanks had everissued from his lip. His character was so well known that no oneregarded his death as an event for which his daughter should be pitied.It would, however, effect a change in her circumstances. Hardy had, eversince the attack upon the Vaughan, received an allowance from the union,as well as from the sick club to which he belonged, but this would nowcease; and it was conjectured by the neighbours that "th' old oomanwould have to go into the house, and Nelly would go into a factory atBirmingham or Wolverhampton, or would go into service." Nelly's motherwas a broken woman; years of intemperance had prematurely aged her, andher enforced temperance during the last few months had apparently brokenher spirit altogether, and the coarse, violent woman had almost sunkinto quiet imbecility.