CHAPTER V.

HOW A CHRISTIAN OUGHT TO ACT.

Daniel was very anxious that Jessica should not be exposed to her mother’s violence at any time during his absence, when he would not be there to protect her from any ill-usage; and as he was almost constantly engaged with the chapel affairs for the next two or three days he and Jessica were never at home until late in the evening.

But upon Thursday night as they turned into the court Jessica’s quick eye saw a woman’s figure leaning against the door-post of their house. She stood still for an instant, clasping Daniel’s hand with close and timid grasp and then, quitting him, she ran forward, and stretching out both her hands, almost as if she wished to throw herself into her mother’s arms, she cried, “Mother! mother!”

The woman laughed loudly and shrilly, and flung her shriveled arms about Jessica, fondling her with a maudlin fondness; Jessica drew back sorrowfully, and lifted herself on tip-toe to whisper into Daniel’s ear:

“She’s a little drunk, you know,” she said, “but she isn’t very bad yet. She isn’t furious. What shall we do?”

It was precisely the question Daniel was asking of himself, for he could not bear the idea of taking a drunken woman into his respectable and orderly house; and yet, could he turn out Jessica’s mother before Jessica’s eyes? He paused for some minutes before unlocking the door, while the woman continued to talk in a foolish strain to her child, but at last he felt compelled to open it, and she was the first to push her way in. She took possession again of his arm-chair, and tossed her old, tattered hat into a corner of the room, while he looked on in helpless and deep dismay.

“Mother,” said Jessica, speaking to her in gentle but steady tones, “this isn’t your house at all, and you can’t stay here. It’s Mr. Daniel’s house: but I dare say he’ll let me give you some supper, and then you’d better go away, and come to see me again when you’re quite yourself.”

The woman fastened her red and sunken eyes upon Jessica, and then burst into a fit of passionate lamenting, while she drew the child closer to her.

“Oh! I wish I was a better woman!” she cried. “I’ve been driven to it, Jessica. But I’m coming to live here with you now, and be decent like the rest of you. I’m going to turn over a new leaf, and you’ll see how steady I’ll be. I’ll be no disgrace to any of you.”

“But, mother,” said Jessica, “you can’t live here, because it’s Mr. Daniel’s house, and he only took me out of charity, when I was ill and you left me. We can’t look for him to take you.”

“If you stay, I stay,” said her mother, in a tone of obstinacy, setting her elbows firmly upon the arms of the chair, and planting her feet on the floor; “or, if I go, you go. I’d like to know who’d have the heart to separate a mother from her own child!”

Jessica stood for a minute or two looking at her mother with eyes full of sadness and pity, and then she crept to Daniel’s side, and whispered to him with an air of pleading:

“I don’t think she ever knew that God is our Father,” she said.

Daniel found himself at a complete loss as to what he ought to do. The miserable creature before him shocked every sense of decency and propriety, which had been firmly and rigidly rooted in his nature; and the very sight of her, drunken and disorderly, upon his hearth, was an abomination to him. Since she had last spoken she had fallen into a brief slumber, and her grey, uncovered head was shaking and nodding with an imbecile aspect. Jessica was going upstairs, for what he did not know, unless it was to make some arrangement for her mother’s accommodation; and he remained motionless, staring at the wretched woman with a feeling of abhorrence and disgust which increased every moment.

But presently he heard Jessica’s light steps descending the stairs, and started with surprise when she came into the room. She had changed her tidy dress for the poorest and oldest clothing in her possession, and she approached him with a sorrowful but patient look upon her face.

“Mr. Daniel,” she said, unconsciously falling back into speaking the old name by which she had first called him, “you mustn’t go to take mother in out of charity, as well as me. That ’ud never do. So I’ll go away with her to-night, and in the morning, when she’s sober, I’ll tell her all about God, and Jesus Christ, and heaven. She doesn’t know it yet, but maybe when she hears every thing she’ll be a different woman; like me, you know; and then we can all help her to be good. Only I must go away with her to-night, or she’ll get into a raging fury like she used to do.”

“No, no, no!” cried Daniel vehemently. “I couldn’t let you go, dear. Why, Jessica, I love you more than my money, don’t I? God knows I love you better. I’d rather lose all my money, ay, and my place as chapel-keeper, than lose you.”

“You aren’t going to lose me,” said Jessica, with the same patient but sorrowful light in her eyes, “I’m only going away for a little while with my mother. She’s my mother, and I want to tell her all I know--that she may go to heaven as well as us. I’ll come back to-morrow.”

“She shall stay here,” said Daniel, hesitatingly.

“No, no,” answered Jessica, “that ’ud never do. She’ll be for stopping always if you give in once. You’d better let me go with her this one night; and to-morrow morning, when she’s all right, I’ll tell her everything. She’ll be very low then, and she’ll hearken to me. Mother! I’m ready to go with you.”

The woman opened her swollen eyelids and staggered to her feet, laying her hand heavily upon the slight shoulder of Jessica, who looked from her to Daniel with a clear, sad, brave smile, as she bent her childish shoulders a little under her mother’s hand, as if they felt already the heavy burden that was falling upon her life. It was a hard moment for Daniel, and he was yet doubtful whether he should let them both go, or keep them both; but Jessica had led her mother to the door, and already her hand was upon the latch.

“Stop a minute, Jessica,” he said; “I’ll let you go with her this once, only there’s a lodging-house not far off, and I’ll come with you and see you safe for the night, and pay your lodgings.”

“All right!” answered Jessica, with a quick, sagacious nod; and in a few minutes they were walking along the streets, Jessica between her mother and Daniel, all of them very silent, except when the woman broke out into a stave or two of some old, long-forgotten song. Before long they reached the lodging-house of which Daniel had spoken, and he saw them safely into the little, close, dark closet which was to be their bedroom.

“Good-night,” said Daniel, kissing Jessica with more than usual tenderness; “you don’t feel as if you’d like to come back with me, now we’ve seen your mother comfortable, do you?”

“No,” answered Jessica, with a wistful look from him to her mother, who had thrown herself upon the bed and was fast asleep already. “I think I’m doing what God would like me to do; aren’t I? He knows she is my mother.”

“Ay, God bless you, my dear,” said Daniel, turning away quickly, and closing the door behind him. He stumbled down the dark stairs into the street, and returned to his desolate home, saying to himself, “I’m sure I don’t know how a Christian ought to act in this case; and there’s nobody to go and ask now.”