Fan | Page 5

was nearly back to her own street again before anyone else noticed
her; then she met a very large important-looking gentleman, with a lady
at his side--a small, thin, meagre woman, with a dried yellow face,
wearing spectacles. The lady stopped very deliberately before Fan, and
scrutinised her face.
"Come along," said her husband or companion. "You are not going to
stop to talk to that wretched little beggar, I hope."
"Yes, I am, so please be quiet.--Now, my girl, are you not ashamed to
come out begging in the streets--do you not know that it is very wrong
of you?"
"I'm not begging--I'm selling matches," answered Fan sullenly, and
looking down.
"You might have known that she'd say that, so come on, and don't
waste more time," said the impatient gentleman.
"Don't hurry me, Charles," returned the lady. "You know perfectly well
that I never bestow alms indiscriminately, so that you have nothing to
fear.--Now, my girl, why do you come out selling matches, as you call
it? It is only a pretext, because you really do not sell them, you know.
Do your parents send you out--are they so poor?"
Then Fan repeated the words she had been instructed to use on
occasions like the present, which she had repeated so often that they
had lost all meaning to her. "Father's out of work and mother's ill, and I
came out because we're starving."

"Just so, of course, what did you think she would say!" exclaimed the
big gentleman. "Now I hope you are satisfied that I was right."
"That's just where you are mistaken, Charles. You know that I never
give without a thorough investigation beforehand, and I am now
determined to look narrowly into this case, if you will only let me go
quietly on in my own way.--And now, my girl," she continued, turning
to Fan, "just tell me where you live, so that I can call on your mother
when I have time, and perhaps assist her if it is as you say, and if I find
that her case is a deserving one."
Fan at once gave the address and her mother's name.
"There now, Charles," said the lady with a smile. "That is the test; you
see there is no deception here, and I think that I am able to distinguish a
genuine case of distress when I meet with one.--Here is a penny, my
girl"--one penny after all this preamble!--"and I trust your poor mother
will find it a help to her." And then with a smile and a nod she walked
off, satisfied that she had observed all due precautions in investing her
penny, and that it would not be lost: for he who "giveth to the poor
lendeth to the Lord," but certainly not to all the London poor. Her
husband, with a less high opinion of her perspicacity, for he had
muttered "Stuff and nonsense" in reply to her last remark, followed,
pleased to have the business over.
Fan remained standing still, undecided whether to go home or not,
when to her surprise a big rough-looking workman, without stopping in
his walk or speaking to her, thrust a penny into her hand. That made up
the required sum of threepence, and turning into Moon Street, she ran
home as fast as those ragged and loose old shoes would let her.
The candle was still burning on the table, throwing its flickering yellow
light on her mother's form, still sitting in the same listless attitude,
staring into the empty grate. The man was now lying on the bed,
apparently asleep.
On her entrance the mother started up, enjoining silence, and held out
her hand for the money; but before she could take it her husband awoke

with a snort.
"Drop that!" he growled, tumbling himself hastily off the bed, and Fan,
starting back in fear, stood still. He took the coppers roughly from her,
cursing her for being so long away, then taking his clay-pipe from the
mantelpiece and putting on his old hat, swung out of the room; but after
going a few steps he groped his way back and looked in again. "Go to
bed, Margy," he said. "Sorry I hit you, but 'tain't much, and we must
give and take, you know." And then with a nod and grin he shut the
door and took himself off.
Meanwhile Fan had gone to her corner and removed her old hat and
kicked off her muddy shoes, and now sat there watching her mother,
who had despondently settled in her chair again.
"Go to bed, Fan--it's late enough," she said.
Instead of obeying her the girl came and knelt down by her side, taking
one of her mother's listless hands in hers.
"Mother"--she spoke in a low tone, but with