urtains. Receiving no answer, the servant
had opened the door. A look of horror passed over her face; she
lifted his hand, let it fall, and burst into tears.
And all the while the sun rose, bringing work and sorrow to every
living thing--filling the fields with labourers, filling the streets
with clerks and journalists, authors and actors. And it was in the
morning hubbub of the Strand that Lizzie Escott stopped to speak to
Lottie, who was going to rehearsal.
"How exactly like his father he is growing," she said, speaking of
the little boy by the actress's side. "Frank saw Mike in Piccadilly
about a month ago; he promised to come and see us, but he never did."
"Swine.... He never could keep a promise. I hope Willy won't grow up
like him."
"Who are you talking of, mother? of father?"
The women exchanged glances.
"He's as sharp as a needle. And to think that that beast never gave
me but one hundred pounds, and it was only an accident I got that--we
happened to meet in the underground railway. He took a ticket for
me--you know he could always be very nice if he liked; he told me a
lady had left him five thousand a year, and if I wanted any money I
had only to ask him for it. I asked him if he wouldn't like to see
the child, and he said I mustn't be beastly; I never quite knew what
he meant; but I know he thought it funny, for he laughed a great
deal, and I got into such a rage. I said I didn't want his dirty
money, and got out at the next station. He sent me a hundred pounds
next day. I haven't heard of him since, and don't want to."
"Suicide of a poet in the Temple!" shouted a little boy.
"I wonder who that is," said Lizzie.
"Mike used to live in the Temple," said Lottie.
The women read the reporter's account of the event, and then Lottie
said--
"Isn't it awful! I wonder what he has done with his money?"
"You may be sure he hasn't thought of us. He ought to have thought of
Frank. Frank was very good to him in old times."
"Well, I don't care what he has done with his money. I never cared
for any man but him. I could have forgiven him everything if he had
only thought of the child. I hope he has left him something."
"Now I'm sure you are talking of father."
***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MIKE FLETCHER***
******* This file should be named 16730.txt or 16730.zip *******
This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/3/
|