Sawn Off Part 31

"Don't--don't, mother! don't go on like that!" cried d.i.c.k imploringly.

"I've only got one secret from you."

"One, indeed!" said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle, growing red in the face; "but it's such a big one that it's greater than all the things you've told me all your life."

"Well, it is a big one, certainly," said d.i.c.k, caressing his chin and smiling blandly. "But it's been the making of us."

"And you keep it from your own wife, who's been married to you over twenty years."

"Over twenty years!" said d.i.c.k, smiling at her--"is it, now? Well, I suppose it is. But lor', who'd have thought it? Why, mother, you grow younger and handsomer every day!"

"Do I?" said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle, evidently feeling flattered, but angry all the same. "If I do, father, it's not from ease of mind."

"Come, come, mother," he said, getting up and putting his arm round her, "don't turn cross about it. I made a sort of promise like, when I thought of the idea that I've worked out into this house and this style of grounds for you, and your watch and chain and joolery, that I'd keep it all a secret."

"Then it isn't honest, father."

"That's what you've often said, mother, when you've been a bit waxy with me, and that's what I felt you might say when I first thought it out and promised to keep it a secret."

"Who did you promise?"

"Him," said d.i.c.k, taking up an envelope and pointing to it with pride.

"See--

"`_Richard s.h.i.+ngle_, _Esq_., _The Ivy House_, _Haverstock Hill_,'" he went on, reading the address. "That's the man I promised."

"Yes," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle, trying to escape from his arm, but very feebly; "and kept it from your own wife."

"Well, yes," said d.i.c.k, with the puzzled look very strong in his face.

"I have kept it from you; but it's a sort of religious oath--like freemasonry."

"Like free stuffery!" cried Mrs s.h.i.+ngle. "When we were poor you never had any secrets from me."

"No, my dear," said d.i.c.k, kissing her--"never had one worth keeping; and see how badly it worked--how poor we were! Now I have got a secret from you--see how nicely it works, and how well off we are!"

"I'd rather be poor again, then."

"Well, they was happy times," said d.i.c.k; "but there was a very rough wrong side. It was like wearing a good pair of boots with the nails sticking up inside."

"If I've asked you to tell me that secret night and day--I say, if I've asked you once," cried Mrs s.h.i.+ngle, excitedly, "I've asked you--"

"Two thousand times at least," said d.i.c.k, interrupting her: "you have, mother, you have--'specially at night."

"Then I'll make a vow too," cried Mrs s.h.i.+ngle, throwing herself into a chair. "Never more--no, not even when I'm lying on my dying bed, will I ask you again."

She leaned back, and looked at him angrily, as if she expected that this fearful vow would bring him on his knees at her feet. And certainly d.i.c.k did come over to her; but it was with a look of relief on his countenance as he bent down and kissed her.

"Thankye, mother," he said--"thankye. You see, it's a very strange secret, and mightn't agree with you."

"It's agreed with you."

"Well, yes, pretty well," he said, smiling complacently; "but there, I've never told a soul--not even old Hopper; and fine and wild he's been sometimes about it."

"I should think not, indeed!"

"There, there, don't look like that, mother," cried d.i.c.k; "you have got such a sweet, comfortable sort of face when it's not cross; and--there-- it's all right, isn't it?"

It seemed to be, for Mrs s.h.i.+ngle smiled once more, and d.i.c.k drew a chair close to her.

"Now, look here," he said: "I want to talk to you about Jessie."

Mrs s.h.i.+ngle sighed, and laid her head upon his shoulder.

"Poor Jessie!" she said.

"Now, what's to be done about--"

"I'm sure I don't know."

"Do you think she cares about Tom now? Because, if she does, I'll swallow all the old pride and hold out the 'and of good fellows.h.i.+p to him--that is, if he's a honest, true sorter fellow; if he ain't, things had better stop as they are."

"But that's what I don't know," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle; "she won't talk about it. You know as well as I do that it's all come on since that night at the old home."

"Taboo! taboo!" muttered d.i.c.k.

"That letter was the worst part of it."

"What, the one that come from Tom next day?"

"Yes," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle; "it must have been very bitter and angry, for she turned red, and then white, and ended by crumpling it up and throwing it into the fire."

"And Tom's never tried to come nigh her since?" said d.i.c.k, musing.

"No."

"Well, p'r'aps that's pride," said d.i.c.k. "He's waiting to be asked. I don't think the less of him for that."

"No," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle, "Jessie won't talk about it; but it's my belief that Tom must have seen Fred come to see her that night, and he told her so, and threw her off, and she's been fretting and wearing away ever since."

"Fred's often hanging about, though. Does she see him, do you think?"

"Oh no," said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle, "I don't think she does. Heigho! I don't know how it's to end. She's getting as thin as thin, and hardly eats a bit; and she's always watching and listening in a weary, wretched way, that makes me wish she was married."

"Well, that's it," cried d.i.c.k; "let's get her married."

"Are you in such a hurry to part with her, then?" said Mrs s.h.i.+ngle bitterly.

"Part with her? Not I! I'm not going to part with her. Whoever it is as has her will have to come and live here."