Littlebourne Lock Part 12

Cries of joy greeted Juliet as soon as her relations saw her. Mr.

Rowles was full of gruff thanks to the gentlemen, and begged the whole party to go inside the house until the rain should cease. For there was bright sky beyond the black clouds, and the shower would soon be over. So they all went into the "lodgers' rooms," as Mrs. Rowles called those which she was in the habit of letting, and there they sat together talking.

"I am afraid," said Mrs. Rowles, "that Juliet will never do better until she learns to be guided by the orders and the advice of other people. I used to think that she wanted encouraging and helping on, but I find that she really thinks a great deal of herself, and does not like to be told anything."

"But she must and shall be told!" cried her uncle. "A bit of a girl setting herself up against her elders indeed! If she is to stay in my house she shall obey my orders. Do you hear me, Juliet?"

"Yes," answered Juliet.

"And your aunt's orders."

"Yes, as long as I am in your house."

With these words Juliet burst into a flood of angry tears, and kicked her heels upon the floor in a violent manner.

"You had better go up to your room," said Mrs. Rowles gently.

The girl flung herself away, slamming the door after her.

"A troublesome child," said Mr. Burnet.

"Yes, sir. Poor thing! there are excuses to be made for her. Of late years her father has been a good deal out of work and in bad health; and then living in a close-packed part of London is trying to the temper. And she's a baby beginning to feel her feet, and beginning to feel herself getting on towards a woman. I am very sorry for her, poor child, but I don't know about keeping her with us. You don't want your whole comfort upset."

"And your boat too," said Rowles; "and your scull broken and lost.

It's a-clearing up, I do believe," he added, going out to the front of the house, for he never stayed indoors when he could be out. Roberts followed him.

"Where does the child come from?" Mr. Burnet asked of Mrs. Rowles.

She named the street, and added, "Her father is a printer, and that is one thing that makes my husband so set against her."

"Why so?" inquired the gentleman.

"Because he thinks it unhealthy and wicked-like to work by night and sleep by day, as you must when you are on a morning paper like poor Thomas. You see, sir, Rowles has been lock-keeper these seventeen years with eighteen shillings a-week and a house, and his hours from six in the morning to ten at night; so he always gets his money regular and his sleep regular, and he can't see why other men can't do the same."

"We cannot be all of one trade," remarked Mr. Burnet. "And I hope he does not hold that bad opinion of all in the printing business, because I am a printer myself."

"You, sir!" cried Mrs. Rowles, while Emily opened her eyes.

"I don't mean exactly in the same way as that child's father, but I am in the same line. When I was a younger man I used to sit in the office of a newspaper every alternate night to receive the foreign telegrams as they came in. It was rather trying. Ah, Mrs. Rowles, while half the world is asleep in bed the other half is hard at work getting things ready for the sleepers when they waken. Do you know that, my dear?" he finished, as he turned to Emily.

"Yes, sir," replied Emily. "The people in Australia are asleep while the people in England are awake."

The gentleman laughed. "I did not mean that exactly, but you are quite right, my child. Yes, day and night come turn about to most of us. I am taking life easier now as I grow old. Most of my work is over. It is my boy's turn to go on with the task. One wants rest after the heat and burden of the day; and it is a blessed thing when at evening time there is light, and we can think over the mistakes and the mercies of the past, and look forward to the repose and joy of the future."

These words were so serious that Mrs. Rowles did not attempt to reply to them. And presently Mr. Burnet roused himself from his solemn thoughts and said brightly, "There! clear shining after rain. Now, we must say good-bye and go home."

While Mr. Burnet and Mrs. Rowles had been talking, Roberts and the lock-keeper had also been conversing.

"It is my own fault," Rowles said, "and my wife's. One might know that a London girl like that would be sure to get into trouble in the country. Her father's a printer; sits up all night, and naturally never has his head clear for anything."

"Oh, come now," replied Roberts; "you are too hard on printers, you are. If they were not clear-headed I don't see how they could set up their type without more mistakes than they make. Why, I've had relations myself in the printing line, and Mr. Burnet is a master-printer himself."

"Is he now?" said Rowles.

"That's what we're down here for. He's bought up half the _Thames Valley Times and Post_, and he wants to live near the works, and while we are looking out for a house we have to stay at the hotel. Mr.

Leonard is going into the business too, as soon as he is old enough."

Roberts had just reached this point when Mr. Burnet came out from the house. Rowles looked with more interest at the old gentleman who was in the same line with Thomas Mitch.e.l.l, and from that moment began to think better of printers in general.

The sky was rapidly clearing, so the three visitors turned the cushions of the boat, and stepping into it went through the lock, and were soon going up between the green banks and hedges, all deliciously freshened by the heavy summer rain.

"He's a nice old fellow," Rowles muttered to himself; "but then all printers are not like him. Here, Phil, see what you can do to put the _Fairy_ in order again. But as for that Juliet, if my wife was not so soft-hearted I would turn the girl out to run home or to get her own living."

CHAPTER VIII

BETTERING HERSELF.

Juliet Mitch.e.l.l had gone up to the little room which she shared with Emily Rowles. It did not contain much furniture, and what there was had seen its best days long before. The chest of drawers had lost most of its handles; the looking-gla.s.s which stood on the drawers swung round the wrong way unless it was propped up by a book or by a box. It had swung round in this manner, but had stuck half-way. When Juliet entered the room she came face to face with the gla.s.s, and consequently face to face with herself.

What she saw was enough to frighten her, and did frighten her. The scowling brows, the flushed cheeks, the pushed-out lips, were more like those of some fierce and raging animal than the features of a young girl in a Christian land. She stopped short and glared at her own reflection. It glared back as angrily at her. "What a horrid, ugly, cross thing, you are!" said Juliet.

The face in the gla.s.s said the very same words with its lips, though it made no sound. Then Juliet stood still and talked with herself.

"You are the ugliest, the crossest, most stupid, awkward creature I ever did come near; and so I tell you plainly, Juliet Mitch.e.l.l. Since you came into this house not a thing but what is tiresome have you done. Why, if your aunt was to jaw you from morning to night you would do no better; and you can't stand being jawed, you know. And your aunt just looks at you in a way that is more piercing than if she was to talk for weeks! And your uncle, he's your own mother's own brother; but there! he'd be glad enough if you was to take yourself off. And that's about the best thing you can do. Take yourself off and get your own living like other girls of your age. n.o.body wants you, here or in London. There's a many little places going; and when you've shown that you can take care of yourself and don't want none of their advice, nor none of their money either, then won't they be pleased to get a letter from you!"

Like many another young girl--ay, and boy too--Juliet had a great notion of independence--of getting away from advice and restraint, and of earning money for herself. In London more than in the country, girls go off and engage themselves as servants or in some other capacity, and so start alone in the world like little boats putting out on a stormy sea without sail or oar, rudder or compa.s.s. And many, many are wrecked on the first rock; and many go through wild tempests and suffer terrible hardships. A few battle through the winds and waves and reach a happy sh.o.r.e.

Had Juliet asked advice of anyone, or had she knelt and implored guidance from her Heavenly Father, she would not have made the mad resolve which now shaped itself in her mind. It was the resolve to go away from Littlebourne Lock, on that side of the river which she knew least--away from her relations, from the village, from the church, from the railway, to find a situation with some stranger in a place where no one knew her; in a word, to provide for herself.

As her resolve grew more fixed she felt calmer, and even pleased.

Smiles began to flicker over her features; and when she next looked in the gla.s.s she murmured to her reflection, "I say, you ain't so bad-looking after all!"

A knock on the door roused her. Mrs. Rowles came in.

The good aunt sat down on the foot of the bed and drew the girl towards her, putting her motherly arm round the little figure, and smoothing the ruffled hair. Mrs. Rowles went on to explain to Juliet the great danger which she had run, and the extreme naughtiness of flat disobedience; and all the while Juliet stood with a calm face and silent manner, so that her aunt thought she was penitent. But this quietness was caused by her having so fully made up her mind as to what she would do next. She let Mrs. Rowles speak on, and appeared meek and humble; but in reality her thoughts were not on anything that she heard.

"And so," said Mrs. Rowles, rising at length and unclasping the sheltering arms, "when you have been with us a little longer, and have learnt a little more, we will get you a nice situation--and Mrs.

Webster knows all the good situations that are going,--and you shall have a start in life; and I've written to your mother to tell her what I think of doing for you. We shall have her answer the day after to-morrow."

Juliet said coldly, "All right."

"I thought you might like another frock," said Mrs. Rowles, "so I have been making one for you out of a gown of my own; and here are two new print ap.r.o.ns, and I've put a fresh ribbon on your hat. You are quite set up now, my dear."

"I suppose," said Juliet without thanking her aunt, "that them things are good enough for going to service."

"Oh yes, quite good enough--if you should happen to hear of a little place to suit you. Don't you like them?"