Spring-Heel'd Jack, The Terror of London — page 204: what you’re looking at

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206 SPRING-HEEL'D JACK: THE TERROR OF LONDON. “ar, herself, before the season was more than half over, with no occupation. Something must be done to provide food for herself and aged mother ; and day after day she wandered through the streets of the great metro- polis in search of employment, and night after night returned, sad, dispirited, and hungry, to her mother’s abode. : “Still come back as you went, Mildred?” said the old lady, one night, as she placed a cup of weak tea before her fatigued daughter. “Still you can obtain no employment ?” ‘“‘ Nothing, mother—absolutely nothing. There are plenty of domestic servants required, but they will not take one who has figured in the ballet. Oh! you should see the looks of horror with which the ladies gaze upon me when, in answer to their questions, I tell them I have been engaged at the theatres. They turn from me with disgust, and leave me to go my way, saddened and tearful.”’ ‘‘T wish you had never had anything to do with the theatres,’ said the mother, sitting down, and clasping her hands on her lap. ‘‘ And so do I, mother ; but you know why Idid. It was the only course open forme to help to keep us out of the workhouse. I could not bear to see you go there.”’ ‘**l know—I know, child,” said the mother ; “but I ought not to have been so selfish. I am too old to work, and have no right to be a burden to you.”’ ‘Oh, mother ! ” ‘““T should have gone,” was the quiet rejoinder, ““and then you could have got some domestic employment. Ah,me! that fatal stage! What has it done for you? Made you acquainted with a villain.” ““Do not speak of him, mother. Heaven will punish his soul for his wickedness to us,” said the girl, bursting into tears. ‘If we were poor, we were at least happy,’ said Mrs. Hendon, ‘‘ before he came hither to blight our peace. But we won’t mention him. I have resolved to go into the workhouse, and then, perhaps, you will be able to get sufficient to keep yourself.” ‘* No, mother. While you live I must be with you. You cannot—shall not go,” cried the girl. “Tis hard to part, but it must be so,” said the mother. “I have not the terror of the poorhouse which I once had.- Want and suffer- ing soon steels the heart, and makes us look more kindly upon those refuges which in our more prosperous days we turn from with a shudder.”’ “Oh! mother, I cannot let you go. We will starve together,” said Mildred, sinking on her knees, and dropping her face, wet with tears, upon the clasped hands which rested on the old lady’s lap. “ Itis always the darkest the hour before day, and heaven knows the darkest hour of our destiny has arrived. Do not despair, mother ; something will perhaps turn up to better our condition.” The old woman shook her head. ‘‘ Yes, yes, mother, it will. London isa large place. There is plenty of employment,—only I have not looked in the right place for it. Perhaps to-morrow ’’—— - “To not hope it—do not hope it,” interrupted Mrs. Hendon. ‘‘ There is a stain upon your character—the stain of the ballet. “Tis cruel, unjust, I know; but still it is a stain that blots you out of sympathy and respect.” The girl knew this—felt it. She had too much proof of it during the past few days. She had marked the look of disgust—observed the | silk skirt draw hastily away for fear of contact | — with her form. And this was done by those of | her own sex—those to whom she should look for | ity. i But though the hearts of women are more tender than those of men, their prejudices are stronger. A fallen sister seldom meets with sympathy from those of her own sex. Let a spark of slander once fall upon an un- fortunate girl, and those who should pity her most fan it to aflame—a flame that consumesher. | 4 Why is this ? aS Alas! we know not. a) a After a time, Mildred rose from her cae | bent position, and took up the bonnet and | shawl she had not long thrown off. \ ‘Where are you going ?” wal ‘* Out, mother,’’ : “At this time of night? Why, it is eight | o'clock, my child.” | | ““T know it, mother.’’ “But where would you go ? ” ‘ “To seek work,’’ j “Work at this time — when all places of business are closed 2 You must be mad.” “‘1’m going to the theatre.” ‘“‘ But you know the season is over.” “ Yes, I know that, but ”—— “ But what 2?” . “Tm going to ask the super-master if he 4 can engage me.” ‘¢ You can only dance.” ‘“T can mareh on and off as others do. Of course, | should get hardly anything for it ; but still, a few shillings will keep us from the workhouse, mother. And perhaps I may get something to do in the daytime, after a bit.” The mother shook her head, but said no more, and Mildred, wrapping her shawl closely around her, strode out of the house into the little dark street, and made her way towards the theatre. a Entering at the stage-door, she made her way tothe super-master’s room, and knocked gently on the panel of the door. In answer to a gruff voice, she entered, and stated her mission. ‘‘ You know enough about theatres to know this is not the time to apply,” was the remark which greeted her appeal. | ‘““T know, sir,” she said ; “but in the morn- ing I wish too seek for other employment, and thought you would not mind my breaking through the rules.” is “I thought vou went away to get married to a swell,” said the man. Mildred dropped her eyes to the ground, and the tears fringed her lashes, as she told him how harshly she had been deceived. | The man’s manner softened as she concluded, and, with a pitying look, he said— | 4 | comicbooks.com