"Mrs. Rawlins," she said, in her gentle dignity, "I think Lovedy is so
poorly that she ought to go home to her aunt to be nursed, and I have
taken little Mary that she may not be left behind alone. Please to tell
Mr. Mauleverer that I take it all upon myself. The other little girl is
not at all to blame, and I hope you will take care of her, for she looks
very ill."
So much for being a Governor's widow! A woman of thrice Fanny's energy
and capacity would not have effected her purpose so simply, and made
the virago in the matron so entirely quail. She swept forth with such a
consciousness of power and ease that few could have had assurance enough
to gainsay her, but no sooner was she in the carriage than she seized
Mary's hand, exclaiming, "My poor, poor little dear! Francis, dear boy,
the wicked people have been beating her! Oh, Miss Williams, look at her
poor neck!"
Alison lifting Lovedy on her knee, glanced under the shawl, and saw
indeed a sad spectacle, and she felt such a sharpness of bone as proved
that there was far from being the proper amount of clothing or of flesh
to protect them. Lady Temple looked at Mary's attenuated hand, and
fairly sobbed, "Oh, you have been cruelly treated!"
"Please don't let her get us," cried the frightened Mary.
"Never, never, my dear. We are taking you home to your mother."
Mary Morris was the spokeswoman, and volunteered the exhibition of
bruises rather older, but no less severe than those of her companion.
All had been inflicted by the woman; Mr. Mauleverer had seldom or never
been seen by the children, except Alice, who used often to be called
into Mrs. Rawlins's parlour when he was there, to be played with and
petted. A charwoman was occasionally called in, but otherwise the entire
work of the house was exacted from the two girls, and they had been
besides kept perpetually to their lace pillows, and severely beaten
if they failed in the required amount of work; the ample wardrobe with
which their patronesses had provided them had been gradually taken from
them, and their fare had latterly become exceedingly coarse, and very
scanty. It was a sad story, and this last clause evoked from Francis's
pocket a large currant bun, which Mary devoured with a famished
appetite, but Lovedy held her portion untasted in her hand, and
presently gave it to Mary, saying that her throat was so bad that she
could not make use of anything. She had already been wrapped in Lady
Temple's cloak, and Francis was desired to watch for a chemist's shop
that something might be done for her relief, but the region of shops was
already left behind, and even the villas were becoming scantier, so
that nothing was to be done but to drive on, obtaining from time to time
further doleful narratives from Mary, and perceiving more and more how
ill and suffering was the other poor child.