girl, and so often severely birched when she was a big girl, that now the very idea of a whipping made her flesh creep.
When she was at the institution, it had contained upwards of fifty girls, who were kept until they were sixteen years of age; then they were put out to service; and every girl was liable to be birched, up to the day she left the establishment
There was a regular “punishment parade” every morning in the schoolroom at nine o’clock, when all the culprits of the previous twenty-four hours were flogged in succession, from the youngest to the oldest, in the presence of all the other girls. Everything was carried out in a methodical manner, but the preparations for punishment did not take long, as no drawers were worn by the girls at the institution. The little culprits were, one after the other, stretched at full length on a bench, and well spanked by one of the assistant mistresses. Then the big culprits were, each in turn, held over a high desk by two of the assistants. The matron, who was the only person authorized to use the rod, would then apply the birch; never giving less than six cuts, and sometimes giving as many as eighteen, for serious offences, such as stealing, or indecent conduce. She always flogged severely, and sometimes drew blood. Nearly every morning there was a culprit to be punished, and sometimes there were two or more; and she had seen as many as eight big girls birched one after the other.
I could hardly believe that girls were treated with such severity in a charity institution in these humanitarian days; but Mary assured me that it was a fact; and she added the though it was seven years since she had left the institution, she knew that the discipline of the establishment was still maintained in the same severe way as it had been in her rime.
Then she went on to tell me what had happened to her since she left the institution. When she had reached the age of sixteen, she was put out to service as an under-housemaid in a large country house, where there were three young men, the sons of the master. The three young chaps at once made a dead set at her, and a couple of months after her arrival in the house, she was seduced by the eldest son of the family.
Then she had allowed the other two brothers to “have” her, and between the she had had a lively rime during the two years she lived in the house. She used to get a poke from one or other of the young men nearly every day; and often all three would poke her in one night, each man spending a couple of hours in bed with her.
She had been in two establishments as parlourmaid before coming to Oakhurst; and she wound up by telling me, with a laugh, that in both places she had been poked by the master of the house.
I laughed, gave her a kiss, and sent her away.
A few days afterwards, I was reading “The Times” after breakfast; and in glancing down the column of births, deaths, and marriages, my eye caught the name of Markham in the list of deaths. I hurriedly read the few lines which announced that Robert Markham had died at Wynberg, in the Cape Colony, on the 10th of April; aged 50 years.
It was now the 26th of May, so Frances had been a widow for upwards of six weeks. I put down the paper, and thought, with a mixture of feelings, about my old sweetheart-as I still called her in my mind-and I was surprised that she had not written to tell me of her loss. Then I wondered what she would do now that she was a widow. Would she remain at the Cape, or would she come back to England? and if she did return, and I were to meet her, I wondered what would happen. During the period that had passed since her marriage, I had often thought of her; and now I knew she was free, my old fondness for her revived, and I hoped, some day or other, to again clasp her in my arms.
For days afterwards I expected to hear from her; but no letter came; and as the days passed into weeks without my receiving any communication from her, I came to the conclusion that she had remained at the Cape. The time passed on. It was the end of June, and I was thinking of going to the seaside; when, one morning, I received a letter, and though it bore the London postmark, I knew by the handwriting on the envelope, that it was from Frances. I eagerly tore it open, and glancing at the top of the page, saw that the address was Kensington. Then I read the letter. It was a long one, written in affectionate terms, giving me full details of all that had lately occurred; and asking me to call on her any day that was convenient to me. I was delighted with the letter; as the way in which it was written made me think she was still fond of me. But withal, I was not quite sure that she would let me poke her when we met. However, time would show.
I sat down and wrote a love-letter to her, finishing it by saying that I would be with her at three o’clock next day. I had the letter posted at once, so that Frances might receive it by the last post.
Sending for my man, I informed him that I was going up to London for a time, then I told him to go up to town that afternoon and get everything ready for me at my chambers.
He bowed, and went away without saying a word; but I knew that I should find everything in perfect readiness when I arrived at my rooms next day. Lighting a cigar, I sat down to smoke, with a great feeling of pleasure at the thought of again seeing, and perhaps poking Frances.
Next morning, after an early breakfast, I started for London; and on my arrival there, went first of all to my chambers where I changed my clothes. Then I went to my club to lunch; and when I had finished my repast, I got into a hansom and drove to the address Frances had given me. It was a pretty house in one of the best streets in Kensington. I knocked at the door, which was opened by a neatly dressed maidservant, who took my card and ushered me into a drawing-room, handsomely furnished, and decorated in the most artistic style. The apartment had two bow-windows, the recesses of which were filled with large jardinieres, holding pots of flowers of all sorts in full bloom; and there were also several china bowls heaped up with freshly-cut roses; and at one side of the room there was a deep alcove screened with heavy curtains of Eastern manufacture. Frances always had good taste, and she certainly had made herself a beautiful nest
Presently, I heard the sound of light footsteps in the passage, the door was opened, and she came running into the room. Then all my doubts as to the way she would receive me, were in a moment dispelled. I could tell by the look on her face that she was still my loving sweetheart. Throwing her arms round my neck, she pressed her lips to mine in a long passionate kiss, and strained me to her bosom in a dose embrace, uttering little ejaculations of joy and addressing me by all sorts of endearing epithets. I clasped her tightly, returning her kisses hotly, and for a moment or two we clung to each other in a transport of delight.
Then we sat down side by side on the sofa, and I took a good look at her. Frances was then midway between twenty-seven and twenty-eight years of age, and was therefore in the full bloom of ripe, luscious womanhood. She had grown a little more matronly in appearance, but she seemed to me more lovely than ever. The large limpid, blue eyes were sparkling with pleasure, and her peach-like cheeks were tinged with a delicate pink colour; her lips seemed to be redder and riper; her bosom was fuller, and the curves of her figure were more voluptuous. She was not dressed in the conventional widow’s weeds; but was wearing a black satin tea-gown trimmed with rich lace round the neck, and down the front; her beautiful hair was twisted Into a loose knot at the back of her head; and she had no corset. That fact I had discovered when my arms were round her waist
Holding my hand in hers, she told me all about her life at the Cape.
Her husband had invariably treated her kindly; but they had not had many ideas in common. He had always been deeply immersed in his business; going to his office in Capetown every morning, and not returning till the evening. She had soon made a number of friends both male and female; she had always had plenty of money at her command; she had had nothing much to complain of, as far as her surroundings were concerned; and on the whole she had been fairly happy. Her husband had died a rich man; the bulk of his money was to go to his two children when they came of age; but he had settled upon her six hundred a year for life; and he had made her guardian of the two children. So her marriage had turned out a good thing.
I asked her why she had not written to me sooner. And she replied that she had wished to get comfortably settled in her house before asking me to call She then asked me to tell her what I had been doing with myself during the past three years. I gave her a short account of how I had spent the time, and she was much interested in my descriptions of some of the things I had seen and done on my trip round the world.
Then she said, smiling, and lifting up the skirt of her tea-gown so that I had a peep at her little feet cased in patent leather shoes:
“You see I am not dressed in the orthodox garments. I hate them; but I have to wear them when I go out.”
I laughed, and squeezing her waist through her soft gown, said: “I am very glad you are not got up in crepe. It is hideous to look at, besides being very unpleasant to touch.”
She smiled in an enticing way, so I at once took her on to my knees, and she leant back against my breast, looking up in my face; her beautiful eyes glistening with the look of desire which I had so often seen in the, in the
