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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 555
content Mrs. Brandon but that he should go into a house of his
own. " A gentleman," she said, " ought not to live in a two-pair
lodging ; he ought to have a house of his own." So, you see, she
hastened on the preparations for her own execution. She trudged
to the brokers' shops and made wonderful bargains of furniture.
She cut chintzes, and covered sofas, and sewed, and patched, and
fitted. She found a house and took it—Milman Street, Guilford
Street, opposite the Fondling (as the dear little soul called it), a
most genteel quiet little street, " and quite near for me to come,"
she said, " to see my dears." Did she speak with dry eyes ? Mine
moisten sometimes when I think of the faith, of the generosity, of
the sacrifice, of that devoted loving creature.
I am very fond of Charlotte. Her sweetness and simplicity
won all our hearts at home. No wife or mother ever was more
attached and affectionate; but I own there was a time when I
hated her, though of course that highly principled woman, the wife
of the author of the present memoirs, says that the statement I am
making here is stuff and nonsense, not to say immoral and irreligious.
Well, then, I hated Charlotte for the horrible eagerness which she
showed in getting away from this Little Sister, who clung round
those children, whose first cries she had heard. I hated Charlotte
for a cruel happiness which she felt as she hugged the children to
her heart : her own children in their own room, whom she would
dress, and watch, and wash, and tend ; and for whom she wanted
no aid. No aid, entendez-vous ? Oh, it was a shame, a shame !
In the new house, in the pleasant little trim new nursery (fitted up
by whose fond hands we will not say), is the mother glaring over
the cot, where the little soft round cheeks are pillowed ; and yonder
in the rooms in Thornhaugh Street, where she has tended them for
two years, the Little Sister sits lonely, as the moonlight streams in.
God help thee, little suffering faithful heart ! Never but once in
her life before had she known so exquisite a pain.
Of course, we had an entertainment in the new house ; and
Philip's friends, old and new, came to the house-warming. The
family coach of the Ringwoods blocked up that astonished little
street. The powder on their footmen's heads nearly brushed the
ceiling, as the monsters rose when the guests passed in and out of
the hall. The Little Sister merely took charge of the tea-room.
Philip's " library " was that usual little cupboard beyond the diningroom.
The little drawing-room was dreadfully crowded by an exnursery
piano, which the Ringwoods bestowed upon their friends ;
and somebody was in duty bound to play upon it on the evening
of this soirée: though the Little Sister chafed downstairs at the
music. In fact her very words were "Rat that piano!" She