The second part of Chapter 2 of A House to Let. This Libri-Vox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Ruth Golding. A House to Let by Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, Elizabeth Gaskell, Adelaide Anne Proctor. The second part of Chapter 2 The Manchester Marriage. They had been there about a year when Mr. Openshore suddenly informed his wife that he had determined to heal long-standing feuds, and had asked his uncle and aunt Chadwick to come and pay them a visit and see London. Mrs. Openshore had never seen this uncle and aunt of her husbands. Years before she had married him there had been a quarrel. All she knew was that Mr. Chadwick was a small manufacturer in a country town in South Lancashire. She was extremely pleased that the breach was to be healed and began making preparations to render their visit pleasant. They arrived at last. Going to see London was such an event to them that Mrs. Chadwick had made all new linen fresh for the occasion from night-caps downwards, and as for gowns, ribbons and collars, she might have been going into the wilds of Canada whenever a shop is, so large was her stock. A fortnight before the day of her departure for London, she had formally called to take leave of all her acquaintance, saying she should need all the intermediate time for packing up. It was like a second wedding in her imagination. And to complete the resemblance which an entirely new wardrobe made between the two events, her husband brought her back from Manchester on the last market day before they set off, a gorgeous pearl and arithist brooch, saying, London should see the Lancashire folks knew a handsome thing when they saw it. For some time after Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick arrived at the Open Shores there was no opportunity for wearing this brooch, but at length they obtained an order to see Buckingham Palace, and the spirit of loyalty demanded that Mrs. Chadwick should wear her best clothes in visiting the abode of her sovereign. On her return she hastily changed her dress, for Mr. Open Shores had planned that they should go to Richmond, drink tea, and return by moonlight. Only about five o'clock Mr. and Mrs. Open Shores and Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick set off. The housemaid and cook sat below, Nora hardly knew where. She was always engrossed in the nursery, intending her two children, and in sitting by the restless, excitable alesie till she fell asleep. By and by the housemaid Bessie tapped gently at the door. Nora went to her, and they spoke in whispers. Nurse, there's someone downstairs, wants you? Wants me? Who is it? A gentleman. A gentleman, nonsense. Well, a man then, and he asked for you, and he rung at the front doorbell and has walked into the dining room. You should never have let him, exclaimed Nora, master and Mrs. out. I did not want him to come in, but when he heard you lived here, he walked past me and sat down on the first chair and said, Tell her to come and speak to me. There is no gas lighted in the room, and supper is all set out. You'll be off with the spoons, exclaimed Nora, putting the housemaid's fear into words and preparing to leave the room, first, however, giving a look to alesie, sleeping soundly and calmly. On stairs she went, uneasy fears, stirring in her bosom. Before she entered the dining-room, she provided herself with a candle, and with it, in her hand, she went in, looking round her in the darkness for her visitor. He was standing up, holding by the table. Nora and he looked at each other, gradual recognition coming into their eyes. Nora, at length, he asked, Who are you? asked Nora, with the sharp tones of alarm and incredulity. I don't know you, trying by futile words of disbelief to do away with the terrible fact before her. Am I so changed? he said, pathetically. I dare say I am. But Nora, tell me. He breathed hard. Where is my wife? Is she alive? He came nearer to Nora and would have taken her hand, but she backed away from him, looking at him all the time with staring eyes as if he were some horrible object. Yet he was a handsome, bronzed, good-looking fellow, with beard and moustache, giving him a foreign-looking aspect. But his eyes, there was no mistaking those eager, beautiful eyes. The very same that Nora had watched not half an hour ago, till sleep stole softly over them. Tell me, Nora, I can bear it. I have feared it so often. Is she dead? Nora still kept silence. She is dead. He hung on Nora's words and looks, as if for confirmation or contradiction. What shall I do? groaned Nora. Oh, sir, why did you come? How did you find me out? Where have you been? We thought you were dead. We did indeed. She poured out words and questions to gain time, as if time would help her. Nora, answer me this question straight by yes or no. Is my wife dead? No, she is not, said Nora, slowly and heavily.  Did she receive my letters? But perhaps you don't know. Why did you leave her? Where is she? Oh, Nora, tell me all quickly. Mr. Frank, said Nora at last, almost driven to bay by her terror, lest her mistress should return at any moment and find him there. Unable to consider what was best to be done or said, rushing at something decisive because she could not endure her present state. Mr. Frank, we never heard a line from you and the ship owner said you had gone down you and everyone else.  Oh, sir, you must guess it! cried the poor creature at last, bursting out into a passionate fit of crying. For indeed I cannot tell it, but it was no one's fault. God help us all this night. Nora had sat down. She trembled too much to stand. He took her hands in his. He squeezed them hard, as if by physical pressure the truth could be wrung out. Nora. This time his tone was calm. Stagnant as despair. She has married again. Nora shook her head, sadly. The grasp slowly relaxed. The man had fainted. There was brandy in the room. Nora forced some drops into Mr. Frank's mouth, chafed his hands, and when mere animal life returned, before the mind poured in its flood of memories and thoughts, she lifted him up and rested his head against her knees. Then she put a few crumbs of bread taken from the supper table soaked in brandy into his mouth. Suddenly he sprang to his feet. Where is she? Tell me this instant. He looked so wild, so mad, so desperate, that Nora felt herself to be in bodily danger, but her time of dread had gone by. She had been afraid to tell him the truth, and then she had been accoured. Now her wits were sharpened by the sense of his desperate state. He must leave the house. She would pity him afterwards, but now she must rather command and up-braid, for he must leave the house before her mistress came home. That one necessity stood clear before her. She is not here. That is enough for you to know. Nor can I say exactly where she is—which was true to the letter, if not to the spirit.  A master and mistress may come back at any minute, and then what would become of me with a strange man in the house? Such an argument was too petty to touch his excited mind. I don't care for your master and mistress. If your master is a man, he must feel for me, poor shipwrecked sailor that I am, kept for years a prisoner among savages, always, always, always thinking of my wife and my home, dreaming of her by night, talking to her, though she could not hear, by day. I loved her more than all the heaven and earth put together. Tell me where she is, this instant, your wretched woman, who salved over her wickedness to her, as you do to me. The clock struck ten. Desperate positions required desperate measures. If you will leave the house now, I will come to you to-morrow and tell you all.  She lies sleeping upstairs. Oh, sir, you have a child. You do not know that as yet, a little weakly girl, with just a heart and soul beyond her years. We have reared her up with such care. We watched her, for we thought for many a year she might die any day, and we tended her, and no hard thing has come near her, and no rough word has ever been said to her. And now you come and will take her life into your hand, and will crush it. Stranger to have been kind to her, but her own father. Mr. Frank, I am her nurse, and I love her, and I tend her, and I would do anything for her that I could. Her mother's heart beats as hers beats, and if she suffers a pain, her mother trembles all over. If she is happy, it is her mother that smiles in his glad. If she is growing stronger, her mother is healthy, if she dwindles, her mother languishes. If she dies, well, I don't know. It is not everyone can lie down and die when they wish it. Come upstairs, Mr. Frank, and see your child. Seeing her will do good to your poor heart. Then go away in God's name, just this one night. Tomorrow, if need be, you can do anything. Kill us all, if you will, or show yourself a great, grand man whom God will bless for ever and ever. Come, Mr. Frank, the look of a sleeping child is sure to give peace. She led him upstairs, at first almost helping his steps, till they came near the nursery door. She had almost forgotten the existence of little Edwin. It struck upon her with a fright as the shaded light fell upon the other cot, but she skillfully threw that corner of the room into darkness and let the light fall on the sleeping Ailesie. The child had thrown down the coverings, and her deformity, as she lay with her back to them, was plainly visible through her slight night-gown.  The poor father looked and looked with hungry, wistful eyes, into which the big tears came swelling up slowly and dropped heavily down, as he stood trembling and shaking all over. Nora was angry with herself for growing impatient of the length of time that long-lingering gaze lasted. She thought that she waited for full half an hour before Frank stirred. And then, instead of going away, he sank down on his knees by the bedside and buried his face in the clothes. Little Ailesie stirred uneasily. Nora pulled him up in terror. She could afford no more time, even for prayer in her extremity of fear, for surely the next moment would bring her mistress home. She took him forcibly by the arm, but as he was going his eye lighted on the other bed. He stopped. Intelligence came back into his face. His hands clenched. His child, he asked. Her child, replied Nora, God watches over him, said she instinctively, for Frank's looks excited her fears, and she needed to remind herself of the protector of the helpless. God has not watched over me, he said in despair. His thoughts apparently recoiling on his own desolate, deserted state. But Nora had no time for pity. Tomorrow she would be as compassionate as her heart prompted. At length she guided him downstairs and shut the outer door and bolted it, as if by bolts to keep out facts. Then she went back into the dining-room and effaced all traces of his presence as far as she could.  It seemed to her very long before they did return, yet it was hardly eleven o'clock. She so heard the loud, hearty, Lancashire voices on the stairs, and for the first time she understood the contrast of the desolation of the poor man who had so lately gone forth in lonely despair. It almost put her out of patience to see Mrs. Openshore come in, calmly smiling, handsomely dressed, happy, easy, to inquire after her children. Did Elsie go to sleep comfortably? she whispered to Nora. Yes. Her mother bent over her, looking at her slumbers with the soft eyes of love.  Then she went to Edwin, with perhaps less wistful anxiety in her countenance, but more of pride. She took off her things to go down to supper. Nora saw her no more that night. Beside the door into the passage, the sleeping nursery opened out of Mr. and Mrs. Openshore's room, in order that they might have the children more immediately under their own eyes. Early the next summer morning Mrs. Openshore was awakened by Elsie's startled call of, Mother! Mother! She sprang up, put on her dressing-gown, and went to her child. Elsie was only half awake, and in a not uncommon state of terror. Who was he, mother, tell me? Who, my darling, no one is here? You have been dreaming, love, waken up quite. See it is broad daylight. Yes! said Elsie, looking round her, then clinging to her mother, said, But a man was here in the night, mother! Nonsense, little goose! No man has ever come near you. Yes, he did! He stood there just by Nora, a man with hair and a beard, and he knelt down and said his prayers. Nora knows he was here, mother! Half angrily, as Mrs. Openshore shook her head in smiling incredulity. Well, we will ask Nora when she comes, said Mrs. Openshore soothingly. But we won't talk any more about him now. It is not five o'clock. It is too early for you to get up. Shall I fetch you a book and read to you? Don't leave me, mother! said the child, clinging to her. So Mrs. Openshore sat on the bedside, talking to Elsie, and telling her of what they had done at Richmond the evening before, until the little girl's eyes slowly closed and she once more fell asleep. What was the matter? asked Mr. Openshore as his wife returned to bed. Elsie wakened up in a fright with some story of a man having been in the room to say his prayers. A dream, I suppose. And no more was said at the time. Mrs. Openshore had almost forgotten the whole affair when she got up about seven o'clock. But by and by she heard a sharp altercation going on in the nursery. Nora, speaking angrily to Elsie, a most unusual thing. Both Mr. and Mrs. Openshore listened in astonishment. Hold your tongue, Elsie. Let me hear none of your dreams. Never let me hear you tell that story again." Elsie began to cry. Mr. Openshore opened the door of communication before his wife could say a word. Nora, come here. The nurse stood at the door defiant. She perceived she had been heard, but she was desperate. Don't let me hear you speak in that manner to Elsie again.  Nora was infinitely relieved, for she had dreaded some questioning, and a little blame for sharp speaking was what she could well bear if cross-examination was let alone. Downstairs they went, Mr. Openshore carrying Elsie, the sturdy Edwin coming step by step, right foot foremost, always holding his mother's hand. Each child was placed in a chair by the breakfast table, and then Mr. and Mrs. Openshore stood together at the window, awaiting their visitor's appearance, and making plans for the day. There was a pause.  Father, I'm sure I saw him, said Elsie, half crying. I don't want to make Nora angry, but I was not asleep for all she says I was. I had been asleep, and I wakened up quite wide awake though I was so frightened. I kept my eyes nearly shut, and I saw the man quite plain, a great brown man with a beard. He said his prayers, and then he looked at Edwin, and then Nora took him by the arm and let him away after they had whispered a bit together. Now my little woman must be reasonable, said Mr. Openshore, who was always patient with Elsie. There was no man in the house last night at all. No man comes into the house as you know, if you think. Much less goes up into the nursery. But sometimes we dream something has happened, and the dream is so like reality, that you are not the first person, little woman, who has stood out that the thing has really happened. But indeed it was not a dream, said Elsie, beginning to cry. Just then Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick came down looking grave and discomposed. All during breakfast time they were silent and uncomfortable. As soon as the breakfast things were taken away, and the children had been carried upstairs, Mr. Chadwick began, in an evidently pre-concerted manner, to inquire if his nephew was certain that all his servants were honest. For that Mrs. Chadwick had that morning missed a very valuable brooch, which she had worn the day before. She remembered taking it off when she came home from Buckingham Palace. Mr. Openshore's face contracted into hard lines, grew like what it was before he had known his wife and her child. He rang the bell even before his uncle had done speaking. It was answered by the housemaid. Mary, was anyone here last night while we were away? A man, sir, came to speak to Nora. To speak to Nora? Who was he? How long did he stay? I'm sure I can't tell, sir. He came perhaps nine. I went up to tell Nora in the nursery, and she came down to speak to him. She let him out, sir. She will know who he was and how long he stayed. She waited a moment to be asked any more questions, but she was not, so she went away. A minute afterwards Openshore made as though he were going out of the room, but his wife laid her hand on his arm. Do not speak to her before the children, she said in her low, quiet voice. I will go up and question her. No, I must speak to her. You must know," said he, turning to his uncle and aunt, my Mrs. has an old servant, as faithful as ever woman was, I do believe as far as love goes, but at the same time, who does not always speak truths, as even the Mrs. must allow. Now my notion is that this Nora of ours has been come over by some good-for-nothing chap, for she's at the time of life when they say women brave husbands, any good-lord, any, and has let him into our house, and the chap has made off with your brooch, a map, and many another thing beside. It's only saying that Nora is soft-hearted and does not stick at a white lie. That's all, Mrs. It was curious to notice how his tone, his eyes, his whole face changed as he spoke to his wife. But he was the resolute man through all. She knew better than to oppose him. So she went upstairs and told Nora her master wanted to speak to her, and that she would take care of the children in the meanwhile. Nora rose to go without a word. Her thoughts were these. If they tear me to pieces they shall never know through me. He may come, and then just Lord have mercy upon us all for some of us are dead folk to a certainty. But he shall do it, not me. You may fancy now her look of determination as she faced her master alone in the dining-room. Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick having left the affair in their nephew's hands, seeing that he took it up with such vehemence. Nora, who was that man that came to my house last night? Man, sir! As if infinitely surprised, but it was only to gain time. Yes, the man whom Mary let in, whom she went upstairs to the nursery to tell you about, whom you came down to speak to, the same chap, I make no doubt, whom you took into the nursery to have your talk out with, whom Elsie saw, and afterwards dreamed about, thinking poor wench she saw him say his prayers, where nothing are bebound was farther from his thoughts. Who took Mrs. Chadwick's brooch, valued ten pounds?  I am as sure as that my name's Thomas Openshore, that you knew nothing of this robbery. But I do think you've been imposed on, and that's the truth.  And he came last night, her love-yering, and you had him up in the nursery, and he made use of his opportunities, and made off with a few things on his way down.  Tell us, he continued, what name he gave you, Nora? I'll bebound it was not the right one, but it will be a clue for the police. Nora drew herself up. You may ask that question, and taunt me with me being single, and with me crudulity, as you will, Master Openshore, you'll get no answer from me. As for the brooch, and the story of theft and burglary, if any friend ever came to see me, which I defy you to prove, and deny, it be just as much above doing such a thing as you yourself, Mr. Openshore, and more so too, for I'm not at all sure as everything you have is rightly come by, or would be yours long if every man had his own. She meant, of course, his wife, but he understood her to refer to his property in goods and chattels.  If you once begin to source me, I'll add the police to you, and get out the truth in a court of justice, if you're not telling me quietly and civilly here. Now the best thing you can do is quietly to tell me who the fellow is.  We know that you and Mary and Cook are honest, but you refuse to tell us who the man is. Indeed you've told one lie already about him, saying no one was here last night. Now I just put it to you, what do you think a policeman would say to this, or a magistrate? A magistrate would soon make you tell the truth to my good woman. There's never the creature born that should get it out of me, said Nora, not unless I choose to tell. Have a great mind to see, said Mr. Openshore, growing angry at the defiance. Then checking himself, he thought before he spoke again, Nora, for your missus is sick, I don't want to go to extremities. Be a sensible woman if you can. It's no great disgrace after all to have been taken in. I ask you once more as a friend, who was this man whom you let into my house last night? No answer. He repeated the question in an impatient tone. Still no answer. Nora's lips were set in determination not to speak. Then there is but one thing to be done. I shall send for a policeman. You will not, said Nora, starting forwards. You shall not, sir. No policeman shall touch me. I know nothing of the brooch, but I know this. Ever since I was four and twenty I have thought more of your wife than of myself, ever since I saw her. A poor, motherless girl put upon in her uncle's house. I have thought more of serving her than of serving myself. I have cared for her and her child as nobody ever cared for me. I don't cast blame on you, sir, but I still say it's ill giving up one's life to anyone. For at the end they will turn round upon you and forsake you. Why does not my missus come herself to suspect me? Maybe she is gone for the police. But I don't stay here either for police or magistrate or master. You're an unlucky lot.  I'll leave you this very day. Yes, I'll leave that poor ALC too, I will. No good will ever come to you." Mr. Openshore was utterly astonished at this speech, most of which was completely unintelligible to him as may easily be supposed. Before he could make up his mind what to say or what to do, Nora had left the room. I do not think he had ever really intended to send for the police to this old servant of his wife's, for he had never for a moment doubted her perfect honesty, but he had intended to compel her to tell him who the man was, and in this he was baffled. He was consequently much irritated. He returned to his uncle and aunt in a state of great annoyance and perplexity, and told them he could get nothing out of the woman, that some man had been in the house the night before, but that she refused to tell who he was. At this moment his wife came in, greatly agitated, and asked what had happened to Nora, for that she had put on her things in passionate haste and had left the house. This looks suspicious," said Mr. Chadwick. It's not the way in which an honest person would have acted. Mr. Openshore kept silence. He was sorely perplexed. But Mrs. Openshore turned round on Mr. Chadwick with a sudden fierceness no one ever saw in her before. You don't know Nora, Uncle. She is gone because she has deeply heard it being suspected. Oh, I wish I had seen her, that I had spoken to her myself. She would have told me anything." Alice rung her hands. I must confess, continued Mr. Chadwick to his nephew in a lower voice. I can't make you out. You used to be a word and a blow, and oftenest a blow first, and now when there is every cause for suspicion you just do not. Your Mrs. is a very good woman, I grant, but she may have been put upon as well as other folk, I suppose. If you don't send for the police, I shall. Very well," replied Mr. Openshore, sorely. I can't clear Nora. She won't clear herself, as I believe she might, if she would. Only I wash my hands of it, for I am sure the woman herself is honest, and she's lived a long time with my wife, and I don't like her to come to shame. But she will then be forced to clear herself, that at any rate will be a good thing. Very well, very well. I am heart-sick of the whole business. Come, Alice, come up to the babies, they'll be in a sore way. I tell you, Uncle," he said, turning round once more to Mr. Chadwick, suddenly and sharply, after his eye had fallen on Alice's one tearful, anxious face. I'll have none sending for the police, after all. I'll barma aunt twice as handsome a-broach this very day, but I'll not have Nora suspected, and my missus plagued. There's for you." He and his wife left the room. Mr. Chadwick quietly waited till he was out of hearing, and then said to his wife, for all Tom's eroics I'm just quietly going for a detective, wench. Thou needs no knelt about it. He went to the police station, and made a statement of the case. He was gratified by the impression which the evidence against Nora seemed to make. The men all agreed in his opinion, and steps were to be immediately taken to find out where she was. Most probably, as they suggested, she had gone at once to the man who, to all appearance, was her lover. When Mr. Chadwick asked how they would find her out, they smiled, shook their heads, and spoke of mysterious but infallible ways and means. He returned to his nephew's house with a very comfortable opinion of his own sagacity. He was met by his wife with a penitent face. Oh, Master, I've found my brooch. It was just sticking by its pin in the plants of my brown silk that I wore yesterday.  Just now, when I was going to fold it up, there was the brooch. I'm very vexed, but I never dreamt of what it was lost. Her husband muttering something very like, I've found thee and I've brooched too. I wish I'd never given it thee. Snatched up his hat and rushed back to the station, hoping to be in time to stop the police from searching for Nora, but a detective was already gone off on the errand. Where was Nora? Half-merred with the strain of the fearful secret, she had hardly slept through the night for thinking what must be done. Upon this terrible state of mind had come Ailes's questions showing that she had seen the man, as the unconscious child called her father. Lastly came the suspicion of her honesty.  In that house she would not stay, that was all she knew or was clear about. She would not even see the children again for fear it should weaken her. She feared above everything Mr. Frank's return to claim his wife. She could not tell what remedy there was for a sorrow so tremendous for her to stay to witness. The desire of escaping from the coming event was a stronger motive for her departure than her sawness about the suspicions directed against her, although this last had been the final goad to the course she took. She walked away almost at headlong speed, sobbing as she went, as she had not dared to do during the past night, for fear of exciting wonder in those who might hear her. Then she stopped. An idea came into her mind that she would leave London altogether and but take herself to her native town of Liverpool. She felt in her pocket for her purse as she drew near the Euston Square station with this intention. She had left it at home. Her poor head aching, her eyes swollen with crying, she had to stand still and think as well as she could, where next she should bend her steps. Suddenly the thought flashed into her mind that she would go and find out to poor Mr. Frank. She had been hardly kind to him the night before, though her heart had bled for him ever since. She remembered his telling her as she inquired for his address, almost as she had pushed him out of the door, of some hotel in a street not far distant from Euston Square. This as she went, with what intention she hardly knew but to assuage her conscience by telling him how much she pitied him. In her present state she felt herself unfit to counsel or restrain or assist or do what else but sympathise and weep. The people of the inn said such a person had been there, had arrived only the day before, had gone out soon after his arrival, leaving his luggage in their care, but had never come back. Nora asked for leave to sit down and await the gentleman's return. The landlady, pretty secure in the deposit of luggage against any probable injury, showed her into a room and quietly locked the door on the outside. Nora was utterly worn out and fell asleep, a shivering, starting, uneasy slumber which lasted for hours. The detective, meanwhile, had come up with her some time before she entered the hotel into which he followed her. Asking the landlady to detain her for an hour or so, without giving any reason beyond showing his authority, which made the landlady applaud herself a good deal for having locked her in. He went back to the police station to report his proceedings. He could have taken her directly, but his object was, if possible, to trace out the man who was supposed to have committed the robbery. Then he heard of the discovery of the brooch and consequently did not care to return. Nora slept till even the summer evening began to close in. Then up. Someone was at the door. It would be Mr. Frank, and she dizzily pushed back her ruffled grey hair which had fallen over her eyes and stood looking to see him. Instead there came in Mr. Openshore and a policeman. This is Nora Kennedy, said Mr. Openshore. Oh, sir! said Nora. I did not touch the brooch. Indeed I did not. Oh, sir, I cannot live to be thought so badly of. And very sick and faint she suddenly sank down on the ground. To her surprise Mr. Openshore raised her up very tenderly. Even the policeman helped to lay her on the sofa, and at Mr. Openshore's desire he went for some wine and sandwiches, for the poor, gaunt woman lay there almost as if dead with weariness and exhaustion. Nora, said Mr. Openshore in his kindest voice, the brooch is found. It was hanging to Mrs. Chadwick's gown. I beg your pardon. Most truly I beg your pardon for having troubled you about it. My wife is almost broken-hearted. Eat, Nora, or stay. First drink this glass of wine," said he, lifting her head, pouring a little down her throat. As she drank she remembered where she was and who she was waiting for. She suddenly pushed Mr. Openshore away, saying, Oh, sir, you must go. You must not stop a minute.  Alas, Nora, I do not know who he is, but someone has gone away who will never come back. Someone who knew you, and whom I am afraid you cared for. I don't understand you, sir," said Nora, her master's kind and sorrowful manner bewildering her yet more than his words. The policeman had left the room at Mr. Openshore's desire, and they too were alone. You know what I mean when I say someone is gone who will never come back.  Who, said Nora, trembling all over? A poor man has been found in the Thames this morning, drowned. Did he drown himself? asked Nora solemnly. God only knows, replied Mr. Openshore in the same tone. Your name and address at our house were found in his pocket. That and his purse were the only things that were found upon him. I am sorry to say it, my poor Nora, but you are required to go and identify him. To what? asked Nora, to say who it is. It is always done in order that some reason may be discovered for the suicide, if suicide it was. I make no doubt he was the man who came to see you at our house last night. It is very sad, I know. He made pauses between each little claws, in order to try and bring back her senses which he feared were wandering so wild and sad was her look. Master Openshore, said she at last, I have a dreadful secret to tell you. Only you must never breathe it to anyone, and you and I must hide it away forever. I thought to have done it all by myself, but I see I cannot. Yon poor man, yes, the dead drowned creature, is, I fear, Mr. Frank, my mistress's first husband. Mr. Openshore sat down as if shot. He did not speak, but after a while he signed to Nora to go on. He came to me the other night, when God be thanked you are all away at Richmond. He asked me if his wife was dead or alive. I was a brute, and thought more of our all coming home than of his sore trial. Spoke out sharp, and said she was married again, and very content and happy. I all but turned him away, and now he lies dead and cold. God forgive me, said Mr. Openshore. God forgive us all, said Nora. Yon poor man needs forgiveness, perhaps less than anyone among us. He had been among the savages shipwrecked, I know not what, and he had written letters which had never reached my poor misses. He saw his child. He saw her, yes, I took him up to give his thoughts another start, for I believed it was going mad on my hands. I came to seek him here, as I more than I promised. My mind misgave me when I heard he had never come in. Oh, sir, it must be him. Mr. Openshore rang the bell. Nora was almost too much stunned to wonder at what he did. He asked for writing materials, wrote a letter, and then said to Nora— I am writing to Alice to say I shall be unavoidably absent for a few days, that I have found you, that you are well, and send her your love, and will come home to-morrow. You must go with me to the police-court. You must identify the body. I will pay high to keep name and details out of the papers. But where are you going, sir? He did not answer her directly. Then he said— Nora, I must go with you, and look on the face of the man whom I have so injured. Unwittingly it is true. But it seems to me as if I had killed him. I will lay his head in the grave, as if he were my only brother, and how he must have hated me. I cannot go home to my wife till all that I can do for him is done. Then I go with a dreadful secret on my mind. I shall never speak of it again after these days are over. I know you will not, either. He shook hands with her, and they never named the subject again the one to the other. Nora went home to Alice the next day. Not a word was said on the cause of her abrupt departure a day or two before. Alice had been charged by her husband in his letter not to allude to the supposed theft of the brooch, so she, implicitly obedient to those whom she loved both by nature and habit, was entirely silent on the subject, only treated Nora with the most tender respect, as if to make up for unjust suspicion. Nor did Alice inquire into the reason why Mr. Openshore had been absent during his uncle and aunt's visit, after he had once said that it was unavoidable. He came back, grave and quiet, and from that time forth was curiously changed, more thoughtful, and perhaps less active. Quite as decided in conduct, but with new and different rules for the guidance of that conduct. Towards Alice he could hardly be more kind than he had always been, but he now seemed to look upon her as someone sacred, and to be treated with reverence as well as tenderness. He throve in business, and made a large fortune, one half of which was settled upon her. Long years after these events, a few months after her mother died, Ailesie and her father, as she always called Mr. Openshore, drove to a cemetery a little way out of town, and she was carried to a certain mound by her maid, who was then sent back to the carriage. There was a headstone, with F.W., and a date. That was all. Sitting by the grave, Mr. Openshore told her the story, and for the sad fate of that poor father whom she had never seen, he shared the only tears she ever saw fall from his eyes. A most interesting story all through, I said, as Jabba folded up the first of his series of discoveries in triumph. A story that goes straight to the heart, especially at the end, but I stopped and looked at Trottel. Trottel entered his protest directly in the shape of a cough.  Quite so, Mom, said Trottel in a state of respectful obstinacy, which would have upset the temper of a saint. Relative, I presume, to this story, Mom? Yes, yes, said Jabba. By all means, let us hear what this good man has to say. Well, sir, answered Trottel. I want to know why the house over the way doesn't let, and I don't exactly see how your story answers the question. That's all I have to say, sir. I should have liked to contradict my opinionated servant at that moment, but, excellent as the story was in itself, I felt that he had hit on the weak point, so far as Jabba's particular purpose in reading it was concerned. And that is what you have to say, is it? Repeated Jabba. I enter this room, announcing that I have a series of discoveries, and you jump instantly to the conclusion that the first of the series exhausts my resources. Have I your permission, dear lady, to enlighten this obtuse person, if possible, by reading number two? My work is behind hand, Mom," said Trottel, moving to the door, the moment I gave Jabba leave to go on. Stop where you are, I said in my most peremptory manner, and give Mr. Jabba his fair opportunity of answering your objection, now you have made it. Trottel sat down with the look of a martyr, and Jabba began to read, with his back turned on the enemy more decidedly than ever. End of Chapter 2. Recording by Ruth Golding. A House to Let. by Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, Elizabeth Gaskell, Adelaide Anne Proctor. Chapter 3. Going Into Society At one period of its reverses the house fell into the occupation of a showman. He was found registered as its occupier on the parish books of the time when he rented the house, and there was therefore no need of any clue to his name. But he himself was less easy to be found, for he had led a wandering life, and settled people had lost sight of him, and people who plumed themselves on being respectable were shy of admitting that they had ever known anything of him. At last, among the marshlands near the river's level that lie about Depford and the neighbouring market gardens, a grizzled personage in Velbotine, with a face so cut up by varieties of weather that he looked as if he had been to Tood, was found smoking a pipe at the door of a wooden house on wheels. The wooden house was laid up in ordinary for the winter near the mouth of a muddy creek, and everything near it, the foggy river, the misty marshes, and the steaming market gardens, smoked in company with the grizzled man. In the midst of this smoking party the funnel chimney of the wooden house on wheels was not remiss, but took its pipe with the rest in a companionable manner. On being asked if it were he who had once rented the house to let, grizzled Velbotine looked surprised and said yes. Then his name was Magsman. That was it, Toby Magsman, which lawfully christened Robert, but called in the line from an infant, Toby. There was nothing again Toby Magsman he believed, if there was suspicion of such mention it. There was no suspicion of such, he might rest assured, but some inquiries were making about that house, and would he object to say why he left it? Not at all, why should he? He left it along of a dwarf. Along of a dwarf? Mr. Magsman repeated deliberately and emphatically along of a dwarf. Might it be compatible with Mr. Magsman's inclination and convenience to enter as a favour into a few particulars? Mr. Magsman entered into the following particulars. It was a long time ago to begin with, a four lotteries and a deal more was done away with. Mr. Magsman was looking about for a good pitch, and he see that house, and he says to himself, I'll have you, if you ought to be add, if money'll get you, I'll have you. The neighbours cut up rough and made complaints, but Mr. Magsman don't know what they would have had. It was a lovely thing. First of all, there was the canvas representing the picture of the giant in Spanish trunks and a rough, who was himself half the height of the house, and was run up with a line and pulley to a pole on the roof, so that his head was co-evil with the parapet. Then there was the canvas representing the picture of the albina lady, showing a white heir to the army and navy in correct uniform. Then there was the canvas representing the picture of the wild Indian, a scalpin a member of some foreign nation. Then there was the canvas representing the picture of a child of a British planter, seized by two boa constrictors, not that we never had no child, nor no constrictors neither.  Not that we never had no wild asses, nor wouldn't have had them at a gift. Last there was the canvas representing the picture of the dwarf, unlike him too, considering, with George IV in such a state of astonishment at him, as his Majesty couldn't with his utmost politeness and stoutness express. The front of the house was so covered with canvases that there wasn't a spark of daylight ever visible on that side. Magsmen's amusements, fifteen foot long by two foot high ran over the front door and parlour windows. The passage was an arbor of green bays and garden stuff. A barrel organ performed their unceasing, and as to respectability, if threatens ain't respectable, what is? But the dwarf is the principal article at present, and he was worth the money. He was wrote up as Major Tupyshovsky of the Imperial Bulgradarian Brigade. Nobody couldn't pronounce the name, and it never was intended anybody should. The public always turned it as a regular rule into Chopsky. In the line he was called Chops, partly on that account and partly because his real name, if he ever had any real name which was very dubious, was Stakes. He was an uncommon small man he really was. Certainly not so small as he was made out to be, but where is your dwarf as is?  Even supposing himself to have ever took stock of it, which it would have been a stiff job for even him to do. The kindest little man has never grown, spirited but not proud. When he travelled with the spotted baby, though he knowed himself to be a natural dwarf and knowed the baby's spots to be put upon him artificially, he nursed that baby like a mother.  He did allow himself to break out into strong language respecting the fat lady from Norfolk, but that was an affair of the art.  He was always in love of course, every human natural phenomenon is, and he was always in love with a large woman. I never know the dwarf as could be got to love a small one, which helps to keep them the curiosities they are. One single idea he had in that head of his, which must have meant something or it wouldn't have been there, it was always his opinion that he was entitled to property. He never would put his name to anything. He had been taught to write by the young man with our arms who got his living with his toes. Quite a writing master he was and taught scores in the line, but chops would have starved to death before he'd have gained a bit of bread by putting his hand to a paper. This is the more curious to bear in mind because he had no property nor open property except his house and a sasa. When I say his house I mean the box, painted and got up outside like a regular six rumour that he used to creep into with a diamond ring or quite as good to look at on his forefinger and ring a little bell out of what the public believed to be the drawing room window. And when I say a sasa I mean a chainie sasa in which he made a collection for himself at the end of every entertainment. His cue for that he took from me, ladies and gentlemen, the little man will now walk three times round the caravan and retire behind the curtain. When he said anything important in private life he mostly wound it up with this form of words and there was generally the last thing he said to me at night before he went to bed. He had what I consider a fine mind, a poetic mind. His ideas respecting his property never come upon him so strong as when he sat upon a barrel organ and had the handle turned. Art of the vibration had run through him a little time he would screech out, Toby I feel my property come in, grind away. I'm counting my guineas by thousands Toby, grind away. Toby I shall be a man of fortune. I feel the mint jingling in me Toby and I'm swelling out into the bank of England. Such is the influence of music on a poetic mind. Not that he was partial to any other music but a barrel organ on the contrary hated it. He had a kind of an everlasting grudge against the public which is a thing you may notice in many phenomenons that get their living out of it. What riled him most in the nature of his occupation was that it kept him out of society. He was continually saying, Toby my ambition is to go into society. The curse of my position towards the public is that it keeps me out of society. This don't signify to a lone beast of an Indian he ain't formed for society. This don't signify to a spotted baby he ain't formed for society. I am. Nobody never could make out what Chops done with his money. He had a good salary down on the drum every Saturday as the day came round besides having the run of his teeth. And he was a woodpecker to eat but all dwarfs are. The sasa was a little income bringing him in so many attents that he'd carry him for a week together tied up in a pocket anchor chief. And yet he never had money and it couldn't be the fat lady from Norfolk as was once supposed because it stands to reason that when you have animosity towards an Indian which makes you grind your teeth at him to his face and which can hardly hold you from goosing him audible when he's going through his war dance it stands to reason you wouldn't under them circumstances deprive yourself to support that Indian in the lap of luxury. Most unexpected the mystery come out one day at Egham races.  Was snarling is a precious public for you why the devil don't they tumble up. When a man in a crowd holds up a carrier pigeon and cries out if there's any person here has got a ticket the lottery's just drawn and the number as has come up for the great prize is three seven forty two three seven forty two. I was giving the man to the furies myself for calling off the public's attention for the public will turn away at any time to look at anything in preference to the things show them and if you doubt it get them together for any individual purpose on the face of the earth and send only two people in late and see if the whole company aren't far more interested in taking particular notice of them to than of you. I say I wasn't best pleased with the man for calling out and wasn't blessing him in my own mind when I see chops his little bell fly out of window at a old lady and he gets up and kicks his box over exposing the whole secret and he catches hold of the calves of my legs and he says to me carry me into the WAN Toby and throw a pail of water over me or I'm a dead man for I've come into my property twelve thousand odd hundred pound was chops his winnings he had bought a half ticket for the twenty five thousand prize and it had come up the first use he made of his property was to offer to fight the wild Indian for five hundred pound a side in with a poisoned darning needle and the Indian with a club but the Indian being in want of backers to that amount it went no further Artnary'd been mad for a week in a state of mind in short in which if I'd let him sit on the organ for only two minutes I believe he would have bust but we kept the organ from him Mr. Chops come round and behave liberal and beautiful to all he then sent for a young man he know'd as add a wary genteel appearance and was a bonnet at a gaming booth most respectable brought her up father having been imminent in the livery stable line but unfortunate in a commercial crisis through painting an old grey ginger bay and selling him with a pedigree and Mr. Chops said to this bonnet who said his name was Normandy which it wasn't Normandy I'm a going into a society will you go with me says Normandy do I understand you Mr. Chops to hint me that the pool of the expenses of that move will be born by yourself correct says Mr. Chops and you shall have a princely allowance too the bonnet lifted Mr. Chops upon a chair to shake hands with him and replied in poetry with his eyes seemingly full of tears my boat is on the shore and my bark is on the sea and I do not ask for more but I'll go along with thee they went into society in a shea and four greys with silk jackets they took lodgings in Pelmel London and they blazed away in consequence of a note that was brought to Bartlemy fair in the autumn of next year by a servant most wonderful got up in milk white cords and tops I cleaned myself and went to Pelmel one evening appointed the gentleman was at their wine at a dinner and Mr. Chops's eyes was more fixed in that aid of his than I thought good for him there was three of them in company I mean and I know the third well when last met he had on a white Roman shirt and a bishop's miter covered with leopard skin and played the clarionette all wrong in a band a wild beast show this gent took on not to know me and Mr. Chops said gentlemen this is an old friend of former days and Normandy looked at me through an eyeglass and said Megsman glad to see you which I'll take my oath he wasn't Mr. Chops to get him convenient to the table at his chair on a throne much of the form of George the force in the canvas but he hardly appeared to me to be king there in any other point of view for his two gentlemen ordered about like emperors they was all dressed like May Day gorgeous and as to wine they swam in all sorts I made the round of the bottles first separate to say I had done it and then mixed them all together to say I had done it and then tried two of them as half and half and then other two all together I passed a pleasing evening but with a tendency to feel muddled until I considered it good manners to get up and say Mr. Chops the best of friends must part I thank you for the variety of foreign drains you have stood so handsome I looks towards you in red wine and I takes my leave Mr. Chops replied if you'll just hitch me out of this over your right arm Megsman and carry me downstairs I'll see you out I said I couldn't think of such a thing but he would have it so I lifted him off his throne he smelt strong of mediri and I couldn't help thinking as I carried him down that it was like carrying a large bottle full of wine with a rather ugly stopper a good deal out of proportion when I set him on the doormat in the hall he kept me close to him by holding on to my coke collar and he whispers I ain't happy Megsman what's on your mind Mr. Chops they don't use me well they ain't grateful to me they puts me on a mental piece when I won't have in more champagne wine and they locks me in the sideboard when I won't give up my property get rid of them Mr. Chops I can't we're in society together and what would society say come out of society says I can't you don't know what you're talking about when you have once gone into society you mustn't come out of it then if you'll excuse the freedom Mr. Chops were my remarks shaking my head grave I think it's a pity you ever went in Mr. Chops shook that deep head of his to a surprising extent and slapped it half a dozen times with his hand and with more vice than I thought were in him then he says you're a good fellow but you don't understand good night go along Megsman the little man will now walk three times round the caravan and retire behind the curtain the last I see of him on that occasion was his trying on the extremist word of insensibility to climb up the stairs one by one with his hands and knees they'd have been much too steep for him if he'd been sober but he wouldn't be out it won't long after that that I read in a newspaper of Mr. Chops's being presented at court it was printed it will be recollected and I'd noticed in my life that it is sure to be printed that it will be recollected whenever it won't that Mr. Chops is the individual of small stature whose brilliant success in the last state lottery attracted so much attention well I says to myself such is life he has been and done it in earnest at last he has astonished George the fourth on account of which I had that canvas new painted in with a bag of money in his hand presenting it to George the fourth and a lady in ostrich feathers falling in love with him in a bag with sword and buckles correct I took the house as is the subject of present enquiries though not the honour of being acquainted and I run Magsman's amusements in it 13 months sometimes one thing sometimes another sometimes nothing particular but always all the canvases outside one night when we had played the last company out which was a shy company through its rain in Evans hard I was taking a pipe in the one pair back along with the young man with the toes which I'd taken on for a month though he never draw to accept on paper and I heard a kick in at the street door hello I says to the young man what's up he rubs his eyebrows with these toes and he says I can't imagine Mr. Magsman which he never could imagine nothing and was monotonous company the noise not leaving off I laid down my pipe and I took up a candle and I went down and opened the door I looked out into the street but nothing could I see and nothing was I aware of until I turned round quick because some creature run between my legs into the passage there was Mr. Chops Magsman he says take me on the old terms and you've got me if it's done stay done I was all of a maze but I said done sir done to your done and double done says he have you got a bit of supper in the house bearing in mind them sparkling varieties of foreign drains as we guzzled away in Palmao I was ashamed to offer him cold sausages and gin and water but he took them both and took them free having a chair for his table and sitting down at it on a stool like hold times I all of a maze all the while it was art re had made a clean sweep of the sausages beef and to the best of my calculations two pound and a quarter that the wisdom as was in that little man began to come out of him like perspiration Magsman he says look upon me you see her for you one has both gone into society and come out oh you are out of it Mr. Chops how did you get out sir sold out says he you never saw the like of the wisdom as he's ed expressed when he made use of them two words my friend Magsman I'll impart to you a discovery I've made it's wallible it's cost twelve thousand five hundred pound it may do you good in life the secret of this matter is that he ain't so much that a person goes into society as the society goes into a person not exactly keeping up with his meaning I shook my head put on a deep look and said you're right there Mr. Chops Magsman he says twitching me by the leg society has gone into me to the tune of every penny of my property I felt that I went pale and though naturally a bold speaker I couldn't hardly say where's Normandy bolted with the plate said Mr. Chops and other one meaning him has formerly wore the Bishop's miter bolted with the jewels said Mr. Chops I sat down and looked at him and he stood up and looked at me Magsman he says and he seemed to myself to get wiser as he got also society taken in the lump is all dwarfs at the court of St. James's they was all are doing my old business all are going three times around the caravan in the old court suits and properties elsewhere's there was most of them ringing their little bells out of mate believes everywhere's the sasa was a going round Magsman the sasa is the universal institution I perceived you understand that he was soured by his misfortunes and I felt for Mr. Chops as to fat ladies he says giving his head a tremendous one against the wall there's lots of them in society and worse than the original hers was an outrage upon taste simply an outrage upon taste awakening contempt carrying its own punishment in the form of an Indian here he give himself another tremendous one but there's Magsman there's his mercenary outrageous laying cashmere shawls by bracelets strew them and a lot of handsome fans and things about your rooms let it be known that you give away like water to all has come to admire and the fat ladies that don't exhibit for so much down upon the drum will come from all the points of the compass to flock about you whatever you are they'll drill holes in your art Magsman like a calendar and when you've no more left to give they'll laugh at you to your face and leave you to have your bones picked dry by vultures like the dead wild ass of the prairies that you deserve to be here he give himself the most tremendous one of all and dropped I thought he was gone his head was so heavy and he knocked it so hard and he fell so stony and the sassagerial disturbance in it must have been so immense that I thought he was gone but he soon come round with care and he sat up on the floor and he said to me with wisdom coming out of his eyes if ever it come Magsman the most material difference between the two states of existence through which your unhappy friend has passed he reached out his poor little hand and his tears dropped down on the mustachio which it was a credit to him to have done his best to grow but it is not immortals to command success the difference this when I was out of society I was paid light for being seen when I went into society I paid heavy for being seen I prefer the former even if I wasn't forced upon it give me out through the trumpet in the whole way tomorrow after that he slid into the line again as easy as if he'd been iled all over but the organ was kept from him and no illusions was ever made when a company was in to his property he got wiser every day his views of society and the public was luminous bewildering awful and his head got bigger and bigger as his wisdom expanded it he took well and pulled him in most excellent for nine weeks at the expiration of that period when his head was a sight he expressed one evening the last company having been turned out and the door shut a wish to have a little music Mr. Chops I said I never dropped the mister with him the world might do it but not me Mr. Chops are you sure as you are in a state of mind and body to sit upon the organ his answer was this Toby when next met with on the tramp I forgive her and the Indian and I am it was with fear and trembling that I began to turn the handle but he sat like a lamb it will be my belief to my dying day that I see his head expand as he sat you may therefore judge how great his thoughts was he sat out all the changes and then he come off Toby he says with a quiet smile the little man will now walk three times round the caravan and retire behind the curtain when we called him in the morning we found him gone into a much better society than mine all palmals I give Mr. Chops as comfortable a funeral as lay in my power followed myself as chief and add the George the fourth canvas carried first in the form of a banner but the house was so dismal art of woods that I give it up and took to the whan again I don't triumph said Jabba folding up the second manuscript and looking hard at throttle I don't triumph over this worthy creature I merely ask him if he is satisfied now how can he be anything else I said answering for throttle who sat obstinately silent this time Jabba you have not only read us a delightfully amusing story but you have also answered the question about the house of course it stands empty now who would think of taking it after it had been turned into a caravan I looked at throttle as I said those last words and Jabba waved his hand indulgently in the same direction let this excellent person speak said Jabba you are about to say my good man I only wish to ask sir said throttle doggedly if you would kindly oblige me with a date or two in connection with that last story a date repeated Jabba what does the man want with dates I should be glad to know with great respect persisted throttle if the person named Magsman was the last tenant who lived in the house it's my opinion if I may be excused for giving it that he most decidedly was not with those words throttle made a low bow and quietly left the room there is no denying that Jabba when we were left together looked sadly discomposed he had evidently forgotten to inquire about dates and in spite of his magnificent talk about his series of discoveries it was quite as plain that the two stories he had just read had really and truly exhausted his present stock I thought myself bound in common gratitude to help him out of his embarrassment by a timely suggestion so I proposed that he should come to tea again on the next Monday evening the thirteenth and should make such inquiries in the meantime as might enable him to dispose triumphantly of throttle's objection he gallantly kissed my hand made a neat little speech of acknowledgement and took his leave for the rest of the week I would not encourage throttle by allowing him to refer to the house at all I suspected he was making his own inquiries about dates but I put no questions to him on Monday evening the thirteenth that dear unfortunate Jabba came punctual to the appointed time he looked so terribly harassed that he was really quite a spectacle of feebleness and fatigue I saw at a glance that the question of dates had gone against him that Mr. Magsman had not been the last tenant of the house and that the reason of its emptiness was still to seek what I have gone through said Jabba words are not eloquent enough to tell Oh Sophanizba I have begun another series of discoveries accept the last two stories laid on your shrine and wait to blame me for leaving your curiosity unappeased until you have heard number three number three looked like a very short manuscript and I said as much Jabba explained to me that we were to have some poetry this time in the course of his investigations he had stepped into the circulating library to seek for information on the one important subject all the library people knew about the house was that a female relative of the last tenant as they believed had just after that tenant left sent a little manuscript poem to them which she described as referring to events that had actually passed in the house and which she wanted the proprietor of the library to publish she had written no address on her letter and the proprietor had kept the manuscript ready to be given back to her the publishing of poems not being in his line when she might call for it she had never called for it and the poem had been lent to Jabba at his express request to read to me before he began I rang the bell for Trottle being determined to have him present at the new reading as a wholesome check on his obstinacy to my surprise Peggy answered the bell and told me that Trottle had stepped out without saying where I instantly felt the strongest possible conviction that he was at his old tricks and that he's stepping out in the evening without leave meant Philandering controlling myself on my visitor's account I dismissed Peggy, stifled my indignation and prepared as politely as might be to listen to Jabba end of chapter 3 recording by Ruth Golding Chapter 4 of A House to Let This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording by Ruth Golding A House to Let by Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, Elizabeth Gaskell, Adelaide Anne Proctor Chapter 4 Three Evenings in the House Number 1 Yes, it looked dark and dreary that long and narrow street only the sound of the rain and the tramp of passing feet the duller glow of the fire and gathering mists of night to mark how slow and weary the long day's cheerless flight watching the sullen fire hearing the dreary rain drop after drop run down on the darkening window pane chill was the heart of Bertha chill as that winter day for the star of her life had risen only to fade away the voice that had been so strong to bid the snare depart the true and earnest will and the calm and steadfast heart were now weighed down by sorrow were quivering now with pain the clear path now seemed clouded and all her grief in vain duty right truth who promised to help and save their own seemed spreading wide their pinions to leave her there alone so turning from the present to well-known days of yore she called on them to strengthen and guard her soul once more she thought how in her girlhood her life was given away the solemn promise spoken she kept so well today how to her brother Herbert she had been help and guide and how his artist nature on her calm strength relied how through life's fret and turmoil the passion and fire of art in him was soothed and quickened by her true sister heart how future hopes had always been for his sake alone and now what strange new feeling possessed her as its own her home each flower that breathed there the wind's sigh soft and low each trembling spray of ivy the river's murmuring flow the shadow of the forest sunset or twilight dim dear as they were were dearer by leaving them for him and each year as it found her in the dull feverish town saw self still more forgotten and selfish care kept down by the calm joy of evening that brought him to her side to warn him with wise counsel or praise with tender pride her heart her life her future her genius only meant another thing to give him and be there with content today what words had stirred her her soul could not forget what dream had filled her spirit with strange and wild regret to leave him for another could it indeed be so could it have cost such anguish to bid this vision go was this her faith was Herbert the second in her heart did it need all this struggle to bid a dream depart and yet within her spirit a far off land was seen a home which might have held her a love which might have been and life not the mere being of daily ebb and flow but life itself had claimed her and she had let it go within her heart there echoed again the well-known tune that promised this bright future and asked her for its own then words of sorrow broken by half reproachful pain and then a farewell spoken in words of cold disdain where now was the stern purpose that nerved her soul so long whence came the words she uttered so hard so cold so strong what right had she to banish a hope that God had given why must she choose earth's portion and turn aside from heaven today was it this morning if this long fearful strife was but the work of ours what would be years of life why did a cruel heaven for such great suffering call and why oh still more cruel must her own words do all did she repent oh sorrow why do we linger still to take thy loving message and do thy gentle will see her tears fall more slowly the passionate murmurs cease and back upon her spirit flows strength and love and peace the fire burns more brightly the rain has passed away her but will see no shadow upon his home today only that Bertha greets him with doubly tender care kissing a fonder blessing down on his golden hair number two the studio is deserted pallet and brush laid by the sketch rests on the easel the paint is scarcely dry and silence who seems always within her depths to bear the next sound that will utter now holds a dumb despair so Bertha feels it listening with breathless stony fear waiting the dreadful summons each minute brings more near when the young life now ebbing shall fail and pass away into that mighty shadow who shrouds the house today but why when the sick chamber is on the upper floor why dares not Bertha enter within the close shut door if he her all her brother lies dying in that gloom what strange mysterious power has sent her from the room it is not one week's anguish that can have changed her so joy has not died here lately struck down by one quick blow but cruel months have needed their long relentless chain to teach that shrinking manner of helpless hopeless pain the struggle was scarce over last Christmas Eve had brought the fibres still were quivering of the one wounded thought when Herbert who unconscious had guessed no inward strife bat her in pride and pleasure welcome his fair young wife bat her rejoice and smiling although his eyes were dim thank God he thus could pay her the care she gave to him this fresh bright life would bring her a new and joyous fate oh Bertha check the murmur that cries too late too late too late could she have known it a few short weeks before that his life was completed and needing hers no more she might oh sad repining what might have been forget it was not should suffice us to stifle vain regret he needed her no longer each day it grew more plain first with a startled wonder then with a wondering pain love why his wife best gave it comfort does Bertha speak counsel when quick resentment flushed on the young wife's cheek no more long talks by firelight of childish times long past and dreams of future greatness which he must reach at last dreams were her pure instinct with truth unerring told where was the worthless gilding and where refined gold slowly but surely ever Dora's poor jealous pride which she called love for Herbert drove Bertha from his side and spite of nervous effort to share their altered life she felt a check to Herbert a burden to his wife this was the least for Bertha feared dreaded new at length how much his nature owed her of truth and power and strength and watched the daily failing of all his nobler part low aims weak purpose telling in lower weaker art and now when he is dying the last words she could hear must not be hers but given the bride of one short year the last care is another's the last prayer must not be the one they learned together beside their mother's knee summoned at last she kisses the clay cold stiffening hand and reading pleading efforts to make her understand answers with solemn promise in clear but trembling tone to Dora's life hence forward she will devote her own now all is over Bertha dares not remain to weep but soothes the frightened Dora into a sobbing sleep the poor weak child will need her oh who can dare complain when God sends a new duty to comfort each new pain number three the house is all deserted in the dim evening gloom only one figure passes slowly from room to room and pausing at each doorway seems gathering up again within her heart the relics of bygone joy and pain there is an earnest longing in those who onward gaze looking with weary patience towards the coming days there is a deeper longing more sad more strong more keen those know it who look backward and yearn for what has been at every hearth she pauses touches each well-known chair gazes from every window lingers on every stair what have these months brought Bertha now one more year is past this Christmas Eve shall tell us the third one and the last the willful wayward Dora in those first weeks of grief could seek and find in Bertha strength soothing and relief and Bertha last sad comfort true woman heart can take had something still to suffer and do for Herbert's sake spring with her western breezes from Indian Islands bore to Bertha news that Leonard would seek his home once more what was it joy or sorrow what were they hopes or fears that flushed her cheeks with crimson and filled her eyes with tears he came and who so kindly could ask and hear her tell Herbert's last hours for Leonard had known and loved him well daily he came and Bertha poor weary heart at length weighed down by others weakness could rest upon his strength yet not the voice of Leonard could her true care beguile that turned to watch rejoicing Dora's reviving smile so from that little household the worst gloom passed away the one bright hour of evening lit up the live long day days passed the golden summer in sudden heat bore down its blue bright glowing sweetness upon the scorching town and sights and sounds of country came in the warm soft tune sung by the honeyed breezes born on the wings of June one twilight hour but earlier than usual Bertha thought she knew the fresh sweet fragrance of flowers that Leonard brought through opened doors and windows it stole up through the gloom and with appealing sweetness drew Bertha from her room yes he was there and pausing just near the opened door to check her heart's quick beating she heard and paused still more his low voice Dora's answers his pleading yes she knew the tone the words the accents she once had heard them too would Bertha blame her Leonard's low tender answer came Bertha was far too noble to think or dream of blame and was he sure he loved her? yes with the one love given once in a lifetime only with one soul and one heaven then came a plaintive murmur Dora had once been told that he and Bertha dearest Bertha is far too cold to love and I, my Dora, if once I fancied so it was a brief delusion and over long ago between the past and present on that bleak moment's height she stood as some lost traveller by a quick flash of light seeing a gulf before him with dizzy sick despair reels to clutch backward but to find a deeper chasm there the twilight grew still darker the fragrant flowers more sweet the stars shone out in heaven the lamps gleamed down the street and hours passed in dreaming over their newfound fate ere they could think of wondering why Bertha was so late she came and calmly listened in vain they strove to trace if Herbert's memory shadowed in grief upon her face no blame no wonder showed there no feeling could be told her voice was not less steady her manner not more cold they could not hear the anguish that broken words of pain through that calm summer midnight my Herbert, mine again yes they have once been parted but this day shall restore the long lost one she claims him my Herbert, mine once more now Christmas Eve returning saw Bertha stand beside the altar greeting Dora again a smiling bride and now the gloomy evening sees Bertha pale and worn leaving the house forever to wander out for lawn for lawn nay not so anguish shall do its work at length her soul passed through the fire shall gain still purer strength somewhere there waits for Bertha an earnest noble part and meanwhile God is with her God and her own true heart I could warmly and sincerely praise the little poem when Jabba had done reading it but I could not say that it tended in any degree towards clearing up the mystery of the empty house whether it was the absence of the irritating influence of trottle or whether it was simply fatigue I cannot say but Jabba did not strike me that evening as being in his usual spirits and though he declared that he was not in the least daunted by his want of success thus far and that he was resolutely determined to make more discoveries he spoke in a languid absent manner and shortly afterwards took his leave at rather an early hour when trottle came back and when I indignantly taxed him with Philandering he not only denied the imputation but asserted that he had been employed on my service and in consideration of that boldly asked for leave of absence for two days and for a morning to himself afterwards to complete the business in which he solemnly declared that I was interested in remembrance of his long and faithful service to me I did violence to myself and granted his request and he on his side engaged to explain himself to my satisfaction in a week's time on Monday evening the twentieth a day or two before I sent to Jabba's lodgings to ask him to drop into tea his landlady sent back an apology for him that made my hair stand on end his feet were in hot water his head was in a flannel petticoat a green shade was over his eyes the rheumatism was in his legs and a mustard poultice was on his chest he was also a little feverish and rather distracted in his mind about Manchester marriages a dwarf and three evenings or evening parties his landlady was not sure which in an empty house with the water rate unpaid under these distressing circumstances I was necessarily left alone with Trotl his promised explanation began like Jabba's discoveries with the reading of a written paper the only difference was that Trotl introduced his manuscript under the name of a report End of Chapter 4 Recording by Ruth Golding


Hi, I am Dr. Yogesh Singh, I work as a consultant dermatologist at Manipal Hospital, Bangalore. Lupus needs long-term treatment. The treatment of lupus depends on the organ system involvement and also on severity of the disease. Though there is no cure for lupus with current treatment options, it is possible to have excellent control of the symptoms, excellent control of the disease, allowing patients with lupus to lead a normal or near-normal life. The medications for lupus include analgesics or painkillers in common language, leukocorticoids or steroids in common language, hydroxychloroquine sulfate, mycophenolate mofetal, esothioprine, cyclosporine, tachyrolemus, riteximab, cyclophosphamide.


What's going on the same grave in here with another video and in this video? we got another episode of NFL questions from subscribers and One nights me why I got on the charges Jersey. I just I saw laying around. I say, you know what? Let me put this Jersey on for this video, but anyway Like I said in this video. We got another episode of NFL questions from subscribers and the question is should the NFL expand The playoffs to not just feature 16 from each division, but I mean not from a Should the NFL expand the playoffs to where it doesn't just feature 16 from each conference But actually 18 from each conference That was a question in this video and shout out to my guy JB smooth. That was his question He hit me up on Twitter And that's what he asks so So I see a lot of people already comment giving their two cents on it and before I give mine Let me introduce myself me. I'm engraving vids and this is my YouTube channel engraving vids and my son He just woke up a little while ago. So but he did go back to sleep So I don't know when he's gonna wake up again. So that will determine the length of this video. But anyway Me I'm a Ravens fan and even though I'm a Ravens fan on this YouTube channel We talk about Ravens all the time, but we also talk about all 32 NFL teams So if you're Ravens fan, make sure you subscribe or if you just love football Make sure you subscribe if you love talking football, make sure you subscribe turn your notifications on and also like my guy Ryan Mallet always says Leave a like on the video because why it's absolutely free. So Again, my guy JB smooth question was should the NFL expanded playoffs? Let me sit down for this one Let me sit down for this one should the NFL expand the playoffs to make it eight teams per conference So AFC NFC versus six teams the way it is now now me My answer for that. Oh If it's not broke Don't fix it If it's not broke, don't fix it. I feel like now I feel like this would it would damage the NFL in more ways than one One way it would add more games. I feel like When you have a good when you when you have something that's good Too much of something even if it's good Can make it bad If you get too much of a good thing, that's not good. So NFL even though we get all said Um after the Super Bowl cuz it's like man, we're not gonna be watching football no more Even though we get little tidbits of football in the offseason through free agency to do the free agencies usually in March The draft is usually in April then may they may have a little mini camp OTA's whatever in June July they start the they start the The workouts the team practices and all that good stuff But in the offseason we get really sad when there's no football. Why is that? because we love Football we love it, but too much of a good thing can water it down So I feel like if they did expand it to eight and eight 18 from the From each conference. I feel like it would just it will water it down and also That would do a lot of things that would also make That would give more teams with worse records a better opportunity to get into the playoffs and What that would mean with that? What that would mean would be that it would mean that you know how football you got 16 games That would mean that The sense of urgency in those 16 games would be a lot less because you could figure like hey We lost this game. We also lost this game. We also lost this game, but we're fine We still got there a spot so we can hold it down or actually seventh or a spot since right now is six There's six spots per conference so If if they did that I wouldn't be a fan of that I wouldn't be a fan of that Because like I say it just it just waters it watered down it waters down the product It waters down the product. So you would have these teams. That's not even high quality football teams In the playoffs and they could just end up throwing up does and they could end up winning But I feel like it would just it would lessen the sense of urgency in the regular season It would lessen the sense of urgency in the regular season Because each game at that point if they decided to do that it would not be as important as it should be So teams may not play a starter for this game. They may rest some guys for this game. It just I don't think it will work out um And what else I just Yeah, I wouldn't like that idea I wouldn't like that idea so, um It would just be too much I feel like it would it would just be too much It would be too much and we love how like I said earlier, we love how in football We love how we We miss it. We get a chance to miss it um My uncle I was talking to my uncle the other day and he was asking me Do I think football is a watered down product right now? um And the reason that he asked me that he said because we do love football But we just get so much of it and it can be overwhelming because he was like because first you got you got all these games on Sunday You got a full lineup of games on sunday But then you have your monday night football game too And then a couple days later you got your thursday night football game So you never really get a big break of football And I was thinking like Well, oh, see look at that tie tie just uh asked that question too now, um Do I think it's too much football personally? uh With the sunday then monday then thursday I mean uh I don't know It is a lot of football. It is a lot of football um, but I don't Do I think it's too much not necessarily Not necessarily um It is a lot of football though Yes, tie a good point. Health wise he says thursday plays a big a big toe.  You just played a game four days ago And you got to play another one already so I mean a We'll see But no, I don't I don't think they should expand the playoffs to make it eight Eight teams per conference. I just think I think that that would water it down And like I said, it was the games The regular season games wouldn't be as meaningful as they are right now They wouldn't be They wouldn't be um Because you and you would have people you would have teams that I don't want to say shouldn't be there, but yeah, you would have teams that shouldn't be in the playoffs in the playoffs You would have teams that shouldn't be there there and NFL man 16 games every single game counts man every game counts Every game counts And playoffs I feel like should be the best of the best Should be the best of the best and I like the way it is now um I'm sure one day they're gonna change it because they always change everything um but Oh, good point. Ty. He said those teams they could get a high draft pick and make the playoffs. Yeah, those two things can't go together They can't go together Hey, Cory, hopefully soon one day, man. I haven't played in a long time. So hopefully soon one day Oh christian said change thursday night to saturday night Yeah, thursday night. They um, that would be something that would be something I know a lot of people thursday night A lot of people don't finish the games They got to go get up go to work go to school the next morning and a lot of people want to watch those games um And just the presentation isn't as good as a monday night football game as a sunday night football game The presentation is different. So, um, I don't know I don't know Do you think you will ever be a team to host a super bowl? I mean, it's oh, you mean Oh, okay to host a super bowl in their own uh stadium and they're actually playing in the super bowl This year is minnesota. So I say no, um, I don't know. That's tough though. That's tough That would be tricky. Yeah college football is on saturday. So that's already taken Carter said did I see is what he said? Let me go back. Let me go back Let me go back. I'm scrolling up and down the comments right now one second Oh, the NFL would only be expanding the playoffs to gain more revenue for real Also, you have to think about playoff injuries. What would happen by adjust by adding nonsense games It's a good point.  Who's playing? I don't even know who's playing in thanksgiving. I believe is is charges and cowboys Cowboys play every year And I think it's charges and cowboys cowboys and somebody and then I forgot who else me I don't even remember who else but anyway Yeah, more players would get hurt because you know, people get hurt every single Game or lines and vikings. Okay. Oh, yeah lines dude. They've been playing in here for a long time. That's true Joel Giants and Redskins Well, that would be a good game Well, they they all got a potential to be a good game. So we'll see man We'll see um, anyway Sheraton Super Bowl champions hosted No, I I do I do see that but So it would be like no, I don't know they shouldn't because the Super Bowl goes to different cities every year um What if somebody gets an opportunity to go to a Super Bowl game? and It's nice that they they do it in different cities um because It gives different people an opportunity to go to that game Because if you had it in a if it was in the same year I mean if it was in the same place that the other team that won a Super Bowl if it was at their home stadium, then That that wouldn't be any fun for other people That wouldn't be any fun for other people. No, I hope that they I don't think they're ever gonna do that But I wouldn't want them to do that I don't know Still seven four said do you think Andrew Luck is a top five quarterback when healthy? No um Also terrible teams will begin to enter the playoffs and if the NFL has a blowout playoff games They get complaints. Yeah, it wouldn't be what's best for business It wouldn't be what's best for business What's up dgp? Engraving this in Miami in 2020 or is that official? Is that for real? I mean That's a long ways away, but All right, we'll see man But anyway, appreciate y'all appreciate your jb smooth for asking that question. That was a good question That was a good question. See you got a lot of people thinking got a lot of people asking questions, too, man Um, so yeah, that was a real good question. I like that one. So, yeah Um, appreciate y'all. Thank you Thank you for coming through Um, thank y'all for making it happen, man Thank you for making this channel happen. Appreciate y'all no negative over on the expansion so um Who plays tonight seahawks falcons I'ma go. No riches Sherman No camp chancellor. I'ma go falcons I'ma go falcons. Oh any pro bowlers on the Ravens and see I think you asked that right at the end of the last video um with jimmy smith and Jimmy smith That's it. Oh terrell suggs too uh terrell suggs um Oh, of course. Justin tucker. I'm trippin uh Sam cook could be too. I don't know how these other punters are stacking up but sam cook could be one um CJ mosey Man, she didn't mostly been solid. Uh, but pro bowler um Eric, what am I? I don't know I bought them cowboys. I got you. I've seen all that stuff. Um Yeah, I'm going falcons tonight though I'm going. Oh, yeah, you're right. Best play on the field tonight is russell wilson Yeah, you're right about that So that kind of makes me think now That's tough Where is the game in atlanta? Was it in seattle? Hmm Oh, that's a tough one there Because he just gave me a great reminder that yeah russell wilson is definitely he's Love that guy. He's one of the best quarterbacks in the league Oh, it's in seattle Hmm. Yeah, yeah, I'm yeah, I got you quali. I got you.  I can't do score prediction. That's tough me.  We will do a score prediction. I'ma say falcon seahawks I'ma say 31 25 31 25 Joe flacco, you know what? We can actually do that next if you like we'll do that next So let me go ahead and get off here. We're gonna talk about some ravens in texas. So I see you on that video We out