Alone in London Read online

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE GRASSHOPPER A BURDEN.

  It was some time before the full meaning of Susan's letter penetratedto her father's brain; but when it did, he was not at first altogetherpained by it. True, it was both a grief and disappointment to thinkthat his daughter, instead of returning to him, was already on her wayacross the sea to a very distant land. But as this came slowly to hismind, there came also the thought that there would now be no one todivide with him the treasure committed to his charge. The little childwould belong to him alone. They might go on still, living as they haddone these last three days, and being all in all to one another. If hecould have chosen, his will would certainly have been for Susan toreturn to them; but, since he could not have his choice, he felt thatthere were some things which would be all the happier for him becauseof her absence.

  He put Dolly to bed, and then went out to shut up the shop for the night.As he carried in his feeble arms a single shutter at a time, he heardhimself hailed by a boy's voice, which was lowered to a low andmysterious whisper, and which belonged to Tony, who took the shutter outof his hands.

  "S'pose the mother turned up all right?" he said, pointing with his thumbthrough the half open door.

  "No," answered Oliver. "I've had another letter from her, and she'sgone out to India with her husband, and left the little love to livealone with me."

  "But whatever'll the Master say to that?" inquired Tony.

  "What master?" asked old Oliver.

  "Him--Lord Jesus Christ. What'll he say to her leaving you and thelittle 'un again?" said Tony, with an eager face.

  "Oh! he says a woman ought to leave her father, and keep to her husband,"he answered, somewhat sadly. "It's all right, that is."

  "I s'pose he'll help you to take care of the little girl," said Tony.

  "Ay will he; him and me," replied old Oliver; "there's no fear of that.You never read the Testament, of course, my boy?"

  "Can't read, I told you," he answered. "But what's that?"

  "A book all about him, the Lord Jesus," said Oliver, "what he's done, andwhat he's willing to do for people. If you'll come of an evening, I'llread it aloud to you and my little love. She'll listen as quiet and goodas any angel."

  "I'll come to-morrow," answered Tony, readily; and he lingered about thedoorway until he heard the old man inside fasten the bolts and locks, andsaw the light go out in the pane of glass over the door. Then hescampered noiselessly with his naked feet along the alley in thedirection of Covent Garden, where he purposed to spend the night, if leftundisturbed.

  Old Oliver went back into his room, where the tea-table was still setout for his Susan's welcome; but he had no heart to clear the thingsaway. A chill came over his spirit as his eye fell upon the preparationshe had made to give her such a cordial greeting, that she would know atonce he had forgiven her fully. He lit his pipe, and sat ponderingsorrowfully over all the changes that had happened to him since thoseold, far-away days when he was a boy, in the pleasant, fresh, healthyhomestead at the foot of the Wrekin. He felt all of a sudden how very oldhe was; a poor, infirm, hoary old man. His sight was growing dim even,and his hearing duller every day; he was sure of it. His limbs achedoftener, and he was earlier wearied in the evening; yet he could notsleep soundly at nights, as he had been used to do. But, worst of all,his memory was not half as good as it had been. Sometimes, of late, hehad caught himself reading a newspaper quite a fortnight old, and he hadnot found it out till he happened to see the date at the top. He couldnot recollect the names of people as he did once; for many of hiscustomers to whom he supplied the monthly magazines were obliged to tellhim their names and the book they wanted every time, before he couldremember them. And now there was this young child cast upon him to bethought of, and cared and worked for. It was very thoughtless andreckless of Susan! Suppose he should forget or neglect any of her tenderwants! Suppose his dull ear should grow too deaf to catch the prettywords she said when she asked for something! Suppose he should not seewhen the tears were rolling down her cheeks, and nobody would comforther! It might very easily be so. He was not the hale man he was whenSusan was just such another little darling, and he could toss her up tothe ceiling in his strong hands. It was as much as he could do to liftDolly on to his feeble knee, and nurse her quietly, not even giving her aride to market upon it; and how stiff he felt if she sat there long!

  Old Oliver laid aside his pipe, and rested his worn face upon his hands,while the heavy tears came slowly and painfully to his eyes, andtrickled down his withered cheeks. His joy had fled, and his unmingledgladness had faded quite away. He was a very poor, very old man; and thelittle child was very, very young. What would become of them both, alonein London?

  He did not know whether it was a voice speaking within himself in his ownheart, or words whispered very softly into his ear; but he heard a low,quiet, still, small voice, which said, "Even to your old age I am he,and even to hoar hairs I will carry you: I have made, and I will bear;even I will carry, and will deliver you." And old Oliver answered, with asob, "Yes, Lord, yes!"