After A Shadow and Other Stories | Page 5

time of my life. The merciful, warm-hearted man! I could
almost have knelt down and kissed his doorstep, as I crossed it on my
way home.
18th.--If I had not resolved, after what happened yesterday, to look
only at the cheerful side of things for the future, the events of to-day
would have robbed me of all my courage, at the very outset of our
troubles. First, there was the casting up of our bills, and the discovery,
when the amount of them was balanced against all the money we have
saved up, that we shall only have between three and four pounds left in
the cash-box, after we have got out of debt. Then there was the sad
necessity of writing letters in my husband's name to the rich people
who were ready to employ him, telling them of the affliction that had
overtaken him, and of the impossibility of his executing their orders for
portraits for the next six months to come. And, lastly, there was the

heart-breaking business for me to go through of giving our landlord
warning, just as we had got comfortably settled in our new abode. If
William could only have gone on with his work, we might have
stopped in this town, and in these clean, comfortable lodgings for at
least three or four months. We have never had the use of a nice empty
garret before, for the children to play in; and I never met with any
landlady so pleasant to deal with in the kitchen as the landlady here.
And now we must leave all this comfort and happiness, and go--I
hardly know where. William, in his bitterness, says to the workhouse;
but that shall never be, if I have to go out to service to prevent it. The
darkness is coming on, and we must save in candles, or I could write
much more. Ah, me! what a day this has been. I have had but one
pleasant moment since it began; and that was in the morning, when I
set my little Emily to work on a bead purse for the kind doctor's
daughter. My child, young as she is, is wonderfully neat-handed at
stringing beads; and even a poor little empty purse as a token of our
gratitude, is better than nothing at all.
19th.--A visit from our best friend--our only friend here--the doctor.
After he had examined William's eyes, and had reported that they were
getting on as well as can be hoped at present, he asked where we
thought of going to live? I said in the cheapest place we could find, and
added that I was about to make inquiries in the by-streets of the town
that very day. "Put off those inquiries," he said, "till you hear from me
again. I am going now to see a patient at a farmhouse five miles off.
(You needn't look at the children, Mrs. Kerby, it's nothing
infectious--only a clumsy lad, who has broken his collarbone by a fall
from a horse.) They receive lodgers occasionally at the farmhouse, and
I know no reason why they should not be willing to receive you. If you
want to be well housed and well fed at a cheap rate, and if you like the
society of honest, hearty people, the farm of Appletreewick is the very
place for you. Don't thank me till you know whether I can get you these
new lodgings or not. And in the meantime settle all your business
affairs here, so as to be able to move at a moment's notice." With those
words the kind-hearted gentleman nodded and went out. Pray heaven
he may succeed at the farmhouse! We may be sure of the children's
health, at least, if we live in the country. Talking of the children, I must

not omit to record that Emily has nearly done one end of the bead purse
already.
20th.--A note from the doctor, who is too busy to call. Such good news!
They will give us two bedrooms, and board us with the family at
Appletreewick for seventeen shillings a week. By my calculations, we
shall have three pounds sixteen shillings left, after paying what we owe
here. That will be enough, at the outset, for four weeks' living at the
farmhouse, with eight shillings to spare besides. By embroidery-work I
can easily make nine shillings more to put to that, and there is a fifth
week provided for. Surely, in five weeks' time--considering the number
of things I can turn my hand to--we may hit on some plan for getting a
little money. This is what I am always telling my husband, and what,
by dint of constantly repeating it, I am getting to believe myself.
William, as is but natural, poor fellow, does not