Chapter III.

Raising The Wind

As Mrs. Peck sipped her brandy-and-water, putting a constraint on herself in so doing—­for her natural taste would have led her to swallow it in large gulps, but that would not have answered her purpose of impressing Mr. Dempster—­she began to talk of the letter she had received from Melbourne, which had distressed her so much.  Her daughter was ill and dying, and her son-in-law had written to her to beg that if she possibly could she would come across to see poor dear Mary before she was no more; but, poor fellow, he was always hard up—­a decent well-meaning fellow he was—­but he wanted push, and things had never gone rightly with him.

“They have never had the doctor out of the house since they have been married, and many births and many deaths keep a man always poor, Mr. Dempster, as well you must know; and it’s many’s the five-pound note as I’ve given to them out of my small means to help them through at a hard pinch, and he thinks, of course, as how I can just put my hand in my pocket and pay my passage in the first steamer as quick as he thinks for to ask me; and so I would, and would never have begrudged it, for my poor Mary’s sake, but things has gone so contrary with me and Peck for this year back that I ain’t got a penny to lay out.  And there’s the poor soul laying so bad, and thinking as I’m on the road, I dare say, and me can no more get to her without wings nor she can to get me.”

“What is your son-in-law by trade?” asked Mr. Dempster.

“Why, he ain’t got no trade to speak of, but he’s warehouseman to Campbell and Co., in Melbourne, the merchants, you know,” said Mrs. Peck.

“Then he must have a good situation and regular payment—­he ought not to be so badly off,” said Mr. Dempster.

“There’s such expenses with a family in Melbourne, where there’s much sickness especially.  A very decent, good-tempered fellow he is, and don’t spend his wages away from his home.  Poor Mary!  I well remember the day she was married, and how pretty she looked in her white gown, and how she says to me, ’Oh, my mother!  I can’t abear to leave you, even for James,’ and now she is agoing to leave all of us.  And when little Betsy was born, and I was a nursing of her, she looked up and says she, ‘Oh, mother!  I don’t think as I’m long for this world;’ but I roused her, and said she wasn’t a-dying then, and my words was true, for she was not going then; but now to think my being so far from her and her so bad.”

Then Mrs. Peck wiped her eyes energetically and sobbed a little.  Mr. Dempster seemed to be soft-hearted and simple-minded.  She thought she had made an impression, and she endeavoured to deepen it.