Fan | Page 4

avoid exciting
remarks she always skulked away, concealing her little stock-in-trade
beneath her dilapidated shawl, and only bringing it out when at a safe
distance from the outspoken criticisms of Moon Street. Sometimes in
fine weather her morning expeditions were as far as Netting Hill, and as
she frequently appeared at the same places at certain hours, a few
individuals got to know her; in some instances they had began by
regarding the poor dilapidated girl with a kind of resentment, a feeling
which, after two or three glances at her soft grey timid eyes, turned to
pity; and from such as these who were not political economists, when
she was so lucky as to meet them, she always got a penny, or a
threepenny-bit, sometimes with even a kind word added, which made
the gift seem a great deal to her. From others she received many a sharp
rebuke for her illicit way of getting a living; and these without a second
look would pass on, little knowing how keen a pang had been inflicted
to make the poor shamefaced child's lot still harder to bear.
She had never been out so late before, and hurrying along the wet
pavement, trembling lest she should run against some Moon Street
acquaintance, and stung with the thought of the miserable scene in store
for her should she be compelled to return empty-handed, she walked
not less than half a mile before pausing. Then she drew forth the
concealed matches and began the piteous pleading--"Will you please
buy a box of matches?" spoken in a low tremulous voice to each
passer-by, unheeded by those who were preoccupied with their own
thoughts, by all others looked scornfully at, until at last, tired and
dispirited, she turned to retrace the long hopeless road. And now the
thoughts of home became at every yard of the way more painful and

even terrifying to her. What a misery to have to face it--to have to think
of it! But to run away and hide herself from her parents, and escape for
ever from her torturing apprehensions, never entered her mind. She
loved her poor drink-degraded mother; there was no one else for her to
love, and where her mother was there must be her only home. But the
thought of her father was like a nightmare to her; even the
remembrance of his often brutal treatment and language made her
tremble. Father she had always called him, but for some months past,
since he had been idle, or out of work as he called it, he had become
more and more harsh towards her, not often addressing her without
calling her "barstard," usually with the addition of one of his pet
expletives, profane or sanguineous. She had always feared and shrunk
from him, regarding him as her enemy and the chief troubler of her
peace; and his evident dislike of her had greatly increased during her
last year at the Board School, when he had more than once been
brought before a magistrate and fined for her non-attendance. When
that time was over, and he was no longer compelled by law to keep her
at school, he had begun driving her out to beg in the streets, to make
good what her "book-larning," as he contemptuously expressed it, had
cost him. And the miserable wife had allowed it, after some violent
scenes and occasional protests, until the illegal pence brought in each
day grew to be an expected thing, and formed now a constant cause of
wrangling between husband and wife, each trying to secure the lion's
share, only to spend it at the public-house.
At last, without one penny of that small sum of threepence, which she
had mentally fixed on as the price of a domestic truce, she had got back
to within fifteen minutes' walk of Moon Street. Her anxiety had made
her more eager perhaps, and had given a strange tremor to her voice
and made her eyes more eloquent in their silent pathos, when two
young men pushed by her, walking fast and conversing, but she did not
let them pass without repeating the oft-repeated words.
"No, indeed, you little fraud!" exclaimed one of the young men; while
his companion, glancing back, looked curiously into her face.
"Stop a moment," he said to his friend. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going

to pay. But, I say, just look at her eyes--good eyes, aren't they?"
The other turned round laughing, and stared hard at her face. Fan
reddened and dropped her eyes. Finally he took a penny from his
pocket and held it up before her. "Take," he said. She took the penny,
thanking him with a grateful glance, whereupon he laughed and turned
away, remarking that he had got his money's worth.
She