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Sue, A Little Heroine, a fiction by L. T. Meade |
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Chapter 24. Mother And Son |
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_ CHAPTER XXIV. MOTHER AND SON That night Mrs. Price and her younger son had a conversation. "I do not want to send her away, Jamie," she said when they had discoursed with much interest for some time. "She shall and must stay here for the present; but it cannot go on always, for what would the poor little brother do? If Cinderella is the bread-winner, and Cinderella can earn no bread, the poor little fellow will starve." James Price, _alias_ Pickles, was looking very sober, even thoughtful. "It tuk a deal o' time to save hup, and 'tis rare and comforting to reflect on having it--but there's my half-crown," he said. "Bless you, my laddie! it will help a trifle, but half-a-crown won't feed the smallest eater for long." "Then, mother, you know I allow no one ter dictate ter me but you. Wot's to be done? Ere we to betray the hinnercent?" "No, my lad--no. I confess I am sorely puzzled." "But I ain't," said Pickles, who had knowingly brought his mother round to make this confession. "I ain't puzzled the least bit in life, fur I _know_ who is the real thief." "Now, Jamie, what do you mean?" "Mother, it were the man as went with Cinderella inter the shop; it wor he wot stole the locket and then put it inter her pocket. I don't know how he did it, nor why he did it, but I do know that _did_ do it." "Oh! my dear boy, in your love of mystery you are allowing your imagination to run away with you. I do not think any one would be so wicked." "Never you mind, mother; take it on trust as there's that much wickedness in this yer world. Be thankful ye're hout o' the way o' hearing o' what's disgusting to dwell on, but this yere is a mystery as must be cleared hup. How do you s'pose, mother, as the locket did get inter Cinderella's pocket?" "It may have slipped in as she stood by the counter." "Oh, come, mother! that 'ud go down wid no jury as hiver walked. No, no; b'lieve me as 'tis as I say; and wot's more, 'tis my business to prove the truth o' my thoughts. There's a mystery, but James Price, _alias_ Pickles, 'ull unravel it. You keep Cinderella fur a week yere, mother, and I'll engage as the guilty party confesses by the end o' that time." "I will keep the little girl as long as is necessary, Pickles. But do be careful. Do not allow your vivid imagination to make you unjust to others." "You leave it ter me, mother. You jest promise faithful to keep Cinderella fur a bit, and I'll do the rest." "Yes, Jamie," said Mrs. Price, "I certainly will make that promise." "That's a brick o' a mother. And now I'm off to bed, fur there's nothing like sleep when the brain is much exercised, as mine is at present." _ |
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