If I Had a Father

to set that right you’re unfair yourself! What you call speaking your mind, is as cheap, and as nasty, as the worst shoddy old Nathan ever got gobble-stitched into coats and trousers. Susan Very well, Miss Matilda! Rising and snatching her bonnet. The sooner we part the better! You stick by your fine friends! I don’t care that for them! Snapping her fingers.⁠—and you may tell ’em so! I can make a livin’ without them or you either. Goodness gracious knows it ain’t much of a livin’ I’ve made sin’ I come across you, Miss! Exit. Mattie Trying to rise. Susan! Susan! Lays her head on the table. A tap at the door, and enter Mrs. Clifford, with James behind. Mattie rises. Mrs. Clifford Wait on the landing, James. James Yes, ma’am. Exit James, leaving the door a little ajar. Mrs. Clifford Well, Miss Pearson! Mattie offers a chair. No, thank you. That person is still with you, I see! Mattie Indeed, ma’am, she’s an honest girl. Mrs. Clifford She is a low creature, and capable of anything. I advise you to get rid of her. Mattie Was she rude on the stair, ma’am? Mrs. Clifford Rude! Vulgar⁠—quite vulgar! Insulting! Mattie I am very sorry. But, believe me, ma’am, she is an honest girl, and never pawned that work. It was done⁠—every stitch of it; and the loss of the money is hard upon us too. Indeed, ma’am, she did lose the parcel. Mrs. C. You have only her word for it. If you don’t give her up, I give you up. Mattie I can’t, ma’am. She might go into bad ways if I did. Mrs. Clifford She can’t well get into worse. Her language! You would do ever so much better without her. Mattie I daren’t, ma’am. I should never get it off my conscience. Mrs. Clifford Your conscience indeed! Rising. I wish you a good morning, Miss Pearson.⁠—Sound of a blow, followed by scuffling.⁠—What is that? I fear I have got into an improper place. Susan bursts in. Susan Yes, ma’am, and that you have! It’s a wery improper place for the likes o’ you, ma’am⁠—as believes all sorts o’ wicked things of people as is poor. Who are you to bring your low flunkies a-listenin’ at honest girls’ doors! Turning to James in the doorway. Get out, will you? Let me catch you here again, and I’ll mark you that the devil wouldn’t know his own! You dirty Paul Pry⁠—you! Falls on her knees to Mattie. Mattie, you angel! Mattie Trying to make her get up. Never mind. It’s all right between you and me, Susan. Mrs. Clifford I see! I thought as much! Susan Starting up. As much as what, then, my lady? Oh, I know you and your sort⁠—well enough! We’re the dirt under your feet⁠—lucky if we stick to your shoes! But this room’s mine. Mrs. Clifford That linen was mine, young woman, I believe. Susan An’ it’s for that miserable parcel you come a-talkin’, an’ abusin’ as no lady ought to! How dare you look that angel in the face there an’ say she stole it⁠—which you’re not fit to lace her boots for her! There! Mattie Susan! Susan! do be quiet. Susan It’s all very well for the likes o’ me courtesying spitefully⁠—which I’m no better’n I should be, and a great deal worse, if I’m on my oath to your ladyship⁠—that’s neither here nor there!⁠—but she’s better’n a van-load o’ sich ladies as you, pryin’ into other people’s houses, with yer bibles, an’ yer religion, an’ yer flunkies! I know ye! I do! Mattie Don’t, Susan. Susan Why don’t ye go an’ pay twopence a week to somebody to learn ye good manners? I been better brought up myself. Mrs. Clifford I see I was wrong: I ought at once to have handed the matter over to the police. Susan The perlice, indeed!⁠—You get out of this, ma’am, or I’ll make you!⁠—you and your cowardly man-pup there, as is afraid to look me in the face through the crack o’ the door! Get out, I say, with your⁠—insolence⁠—that’s your word! Exit Mrs. Clifford. Mattie Susan! Susan! what is to become of us? Susan She daren’t do it⁠—the old scrooge! But just let her try it on! See if I don’t show her up afore the magistrate! Mattie! I’ll work my fingers to the bone for you. I would do worse, only you won’t let me. I’ll go to the court, and tell the magistrate you’re a-dyin’ of hunger, which it’s as true as gospel. Mattie They’d send me to the workhouse, Sukey. Susan There must be some good people somewheres, Mattie. Mattie Yes; if we could get at them. But we can live till we die, Sukey. Susan I’ll go and list for a soldier, I will. Women ha’ done it afore. It’s quite respectable, so long as they don’t find you out⁠—and they shouldn’t me. There’s ne’er a one o’ the redcoats ’ill cut up rougher ’n I shall⁠—barrin’ the beard, and that don’t go for much nowadays. Mattie And what should I do without you, Susan? Susan Do you care to have me, then? Mattie That I do, indeed. But you shouldn’t have talked like that to Mrs. Clifford. Ladies ain’t used to such words. They sound worse than they are⁠—quite dreadful, to them. She don’t know your kind heart as I do. Besides, the look of things is against us. Ain’t it now? Say yourself. Susan Starting up. I’ll go and beg her pardon. I’ll go direckly⁠—I will. I swear I will. I can’t abear her, but I’ll do it. I believe hunger has nigh drove me mad. Mattie It takes all the madness out of me.⁠—No, Susan; we must bear it now. Come along. We can be miserable just as well working. There’s your sleeve. I’ll thread your needle for you. Don’t cry⁠—there’s a dear! Susan I will cry. It’s all I ever could do to my own mind, and it’s all as is left me. But if I could get my claws on that lovyer