CHAPTER xi
A NARRATION.
The moment Cecilia was at liberty, she sent her own servant to examineinto the real situation of the carpenter and his family, and to desirehis wife would call upon her as soon as she was at leisure. The accountwhich he brought back encreased her concern for the injuries of thesepoor people, and determined her not to rest satisfied till she saw themredressed. He informed her that they lived in a small lodging up twopair of stairs; that there were five children, all girls, thethree eldest of whom were hard at work with their mother in mattingchair-bottoms, and the fourth, though a mere child, was nursing theyoungest; while the poor carpenter himself was confined to his bed, inconsequence of a fall from a ladder while working at Violet-Bank, bywhich he was covered with wounds and contusions, and an object of miseryand pain.
As soon as Mrs Hill came, Cecilia sent for her into her own room, whereshe received her with the most compassionate tenderness, and desired toknow when Mr Harrel talked of paying her?
"To-morrow, madam," she answered, shaking her head, "that is always hishonour's speech: but I shall bear it while I can. However, though I darenot tell his honour, something bad will come of it, if I am not paidsoon."
"Do you mean, then, to apply to the law?"
"I must not tell you, madam; but to be sure we have thought of it many asad time and often; but still, while we could rub on, we thought it bestnot to make enemies: but, indeed, madam, his honour was so hardheartedthis morning, that if I was not afraid you would be angry, I could nottell how to bear it; for when I told him I had no help now, for I hadlost my Billy, he had the heart to say, 'So much the better, there's onethe less of you.'"
"But what," cried Cecilia, extremely shocked by this unfeeling speech,"is the reason he gives for disappointing you so often?"
"He says, madam, that none of the other workmen are paid yet; and that,to be sure, is very true; but then they can all better afford to waitthan we can, for we were the poorest of all, madam, and have beenmisfortunate from the beginning: and his honour would never haveemployed us, only he had run up such a bill with Mr Wright, that hewould not undertake any thing more till he was paid. We were told fromthe first we should not get our money; but we were willing to hope forthe best, for we had nothing to do, and were hard run, and had never hadthe offer of so good a job before; and we had a great family to keep,and many losses, and so much illness!--Oh madam! if you did but knowwhat the poor go through!"
This speech opened to Cecilia a new view of life; that a young man couldappear so gay and happy, yet be guilty of such injustice and inhumanity,that he could take pride in works which not even money had made his own,and live with undiminished splendor, when his credit itself began tofail, seemed to her incongruities so irrational, that hitherto she hadsupposed them impossible.
She then enquired if her husband had yet had any physician?
"Yes, madam, I humbly thank your goodness," she answered; "but I amnot the poorer for that, for the gentleman was so kind he would takenothing."
"And does he give you any hopes? what does he say?"
"He says he must die, madam, but I knew that before."
"Poor woman! and what will you do then?"
"The same, madam, as I did when I lost my Billy, work on the harder!"
"Good heaven, _how severe a lot_! but tell me, why is it you seem tolove your Billy so much better than the rest of your children?"
"Because, madam, he was the only boy that ever I had; he was seventeenyears old, madam, and as tall and as pretty a lad! and so good, that henever cost me a wet eye till I lost him. He worked with his father, andall the folks used to say he was the better workman of the two."
"And what was the occasion of his death?"
"A consumption, madam, that wasted him quite to nothing: and he was illa long time, and cost us a deal of money, for we spared neither for winenor any thing that we thought would but comfort him; and we loved him sowe never grudged it. But he died, madam! and if it had not been for veryhard work, the loss of him would quite have broke my heart."
"Try, however, to think less of him," said Cecilia; "and depend uponmy speaking again for you to Mr Harrel. You shall certainly have yourmoney; take care, therefore, of your own health, and go home and givecomfort to your sick husband."
"Oh, madam," cried the poor woman, tears streaming down her cheeks, "youdon't know how touching it is to hear gentlefolks talk so kindly! And Ihave been used to nothing but roughness from his honour! But what I mostfear, madam, is that when my husband is gone, he will be harder to dealwith than ever; for a widow, madam, is always hard to be righted; and Idon't expect to hold out long myself, for sickness and sorrow wear fast:and then, when we are both gone, who is to help our poor children?"
"_I_ will!" cried the generous Cecilia; "I am able, and I am willing;you shall not find all the rich hardhearted, and I will try to make yousome amends for the unkindness you have suffered."
The poor woman, overcome by a promise so unexpected, burst into apassionate fit of tears, and sobbed out her thanks with a violence ofemotion that frightened Cecilia almost as much as it melted her. Sheendeavoured, by re-iterated assurances of assistance, to appease her,and solemnly pledged her own honour that she should certainly be paidthe following Saturday, which was only three days distant.
Mrs Hill, when a little calmer, dried her eyes, and humbly begging herto forgive a transport which she could not restrain, most gratefullythanked her for the engagement into which she had entered, protestingthat she would not be _troublesome to her goodness_ as long as she couldhelp it; "And I believe," she continued, "that if his honour will butpay me time enough for the burial, I can make shift with what I havetill then. But when my poor Billy died, we were sadly off indeed, for wecould not bear but bury him prettily, because it was the last we coulddo for him: but we could hardly scrape up enough for it, and yet we allwent without our dinners to help forward, except the little one of all.But that did not much matter, for we had no great heart for eating.".
"I cannot bear this!" cried Cecilia; "you must tell me no more of yourBilly; but go home, and chear your spirits, and do every thing in yourpower to save your husband."
"I will, madam," answered the woman, "and his dying prayers shall blessyou! and all my children shall bless you, and every night they shallpray for you. And oh!"--again bursting into tears, "that Billy was butalive to pray for you too!"
Cecilia kindly endeavoured to soothe her, but the poor creature, nolonger able to suppress the violence of her awakened sorrows, cried out,"I must go, madam, and pray for you at home, for now I have once beguncrying again, I don't know how to have done!" and hurried away.
Cecilia determined to make once more an effort with Mr Harrel for thepayment of the bill, and if that, in two days, did not succeed, to takeup money for the discharge of it herself, and rest all her security forreimbursement upon the shame with which such a proceeding must overwhelmhim. Offended, however, by the repulse she had already received fromhim, and disgusted by all she had heard of his unfeeling negligence,she knew not how to address him, and resolved upon applying again toMr Arnott, who was already acquainted with the affair, for advice andassistance.
Mr Arnott, though extremely gratified that she consulted him,betrayed by his looks a hopelessness of success, that damped all herexpectations. He promised, however, to speak to Mr Harrel upon thesubject, but the promise was evidently given to oblige the fairmediatrix, without any hope of advantage to the cause.
The next morning Mrs Hill again came, and again without payment wasdismissed.
Mr Arnott then, at the request of Cecilia, followed Mr Harrel intohis room, to enquire into the reason of this breach of promise; theycontinued some time together, and when he returned to Cecilia, he toldher, that his brother had assured him he would give orders to Davison,his gentleman, to let her have the money the next day.
The pleasure with which she would have heard this intelligence was muchchecked by the grave and cold manner in which it was c
ommunicated: shewaited, therefore, with more impatience than confidence for the resultof this fresh assurance.
The next morning, however, was the same as the last; Mrs Hill came, sawDavison, and was sent away.
Cecilia, to whom she related her grievances, then flew to Mr Arnott,and entreated him to enquire at least of Davison why the woman had againbeen disappointed.
Mr Arnott obeyed her, and brought for answer, that Davison had receivedno orders from his master.
"I entreat you then," cried she, with mingled eagerness and vexation,"to go, for the last time, to Mr Harrel. I am sorry to impose upon youan office so disagreeable, but I am sure you compassionate these poorpeople, and will serve them now with your interest, as you have alreadydone with your purse. I only wish to know if there has been any mistake,or if these delays are merely to sicken me of petitioning."
Mr Arnott, with a repugnance to the request which he could as illconceal as his admiration of the zealous requester, again forced himselfto follow Mr Harrel. His stay was not long, and Cecilia at his returnperceived that he was hurt and disconcerted. As soon as they were alonetogether, she begged to know what had passed? "Nothing," answered he,"that will give you any pleasure. When I entreated my brother to come tothe point, he said it was his intention to pay all his workmen together,for that if he paid any one singly, all the rest would be dissatisfied."
"And why," said Cecilia, "should he not pay them at once? There can beno more comparison in the value of the money to him and to them, than,to speak with truth, there is in his and in their right to it."
"But, madam, the bills for the new house itself are none of themsettled, and he says that the moment he is known to discharge an accountfor the Temple, he shall not have any rest for the clamours it willraise among the workmen who were employed about the house."
"How infinitely strange!" exclaimed Cecilia; "will he not, then, payanybody?"
"Next quarter, he says, he shall pay them all, but, at present, he has aparticular call for his money."
Cecilia would not trust herself to make any comments upon such anavowal, but thanking Mr Arnott for the trouble which he had taken, shedetermined, without any further application, to desire Mr Harrel toadvance her 20 pounds the next morning, and satisfy the carpenterherself, be the risk what it might.
The following day, therefore, which was the Saturday when payment waspromised, she begged an audience of Mr Harrel; which he immediatelygranted; but, before she could make her demand, he said to her, withan air of the utmost gaiety and good-humour, "Well, Miss Beverley, howfares it with your _protegee_? I hope, at length, she is contented. ButI must beg you would charge her to keep her own counsel, as otherwiseshe will draw me into a scrape I shall not thank her for."
"Have you, then, paid her?" cried Cecilia, with much amazement.
"Yes; I promised you I would, you know."
This intelligence equally delighted and astonished her; she repeatedlythanked him for his attention to her petition, and, eager to communicateher success to Mr Arnott, she hastened to find him. "Now," cried she, "Ishall torment you no more with painful commissions; the Hills, at last,are paid!"
"From you, madam," answered he gravely, "no commissions could bepainful."
"Well, but," said Cecilia, somewhat disappointed, "you don't seem gladof this?"
"Yes," answered he, with a forced smile, "I am very glad to see you so."
"But how was it brought about? did Mr Harrel relent? or did you attackhim again?"
The hesitation of his answer convinced her there was some mystery in thetransaction; she began to apprehend she had been deceived, and hastilyquitting the room, sent for Mrs Hill: but the moment the poor womanappeared, she was satisfied of the contrary, for, almost frantic withjoy and gratitude, she immediately flung herself upon her knees, tothank her benefactress for having _seen her righted_.
Cecilia then gave her some general advice, promised to continue herfriend, and offered her assistance in getting her husband into anhospital; but she told her he had already been in one many months, wherehe had been pronounced incurable, and therefore was desirous to spendhis last days in his own lodgings.
"Well," said Cecilia, "make them as easy to him as you, can, and come tome next week, and I will try to put you in a better way of living."
She then, still greatly perplexed about Mr Arnott, sought him again,and, after various questions and conjectures, at length brought him toconfess he had himself lent his brother the sum with which the Hills hadbeen paid.
Struck with his generosity, she poured forth thanks and praises sograteful to his ears, that she soon gave him a recompense which he wouldhave thought cheaply purchased by half his fortune.