"I had a dislike to her mother always; for she was my husband's only
sister, and a great favourite with him: he opposed the family's disowning
her when she made her low marriage; and when news came of her death, he
wept like a simpleton. He would send for the baby; though I entreated
him rather to put it out to nurse and pay for its maintenance. I hated
it the first time I set my eyes on it--a sickly, whining, pining thing!
It would wail in its cradle all night long--not screaming heartily like
any other child, but whimpering and moaning. Reed pitied it; and he used
to nurse it and notice it as if it had been his own: more, indeed, than
he ever noticed his own at that age. He would try to make my children
friendly to the little beggar: the darlings could not bear it, and he was
angry with them when they showed their dislike. In his last illness, he
had it brought continually to his bedside; and but an hour before he
died, he bound me by vow to keep the creature. I would as soon have been
charged with a pauper brat out of a workhouse: but he was weak, naturally
weak. John does not at all resemble his father, and I am glad of it:
John is like me and like my brothers--he is quite a Gibson. Oh, I wish
he would cease tormenting me with letters for money? I have no more
money to give him: we are getting poor. I must send away half the
servants and shut up part of the house; or let it off. I can never
submit to do that--yet how are we to get on? Two-thirds of my income
goes in paying the interest of mortgages. John gambles dreadfully, and
always loses--poor boy! He is beset by sharpers: John is sunk and
degraded--his look is frightful--I feel ashamed for him when I see him."
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She was getting much excited. "I think I had better leave her now," said
I to Bessie, who stood on the other side of the bed.
"Perhaps you had, Miss: but she often talks in this way towards night--in
the morning she is calmer."
I rose. "Stop!" exclaimed Mrs. Reed, "there is another thing I wished to
say. He threatens me--he continually threatens me with his own death, or
mine: and I dream sometimes that I see him laid out with a great wound in
his throat, or with a swollen and blackened face. I am come to a strange
pass: I have heavy troubles. What is to be done? How is the money to be
had?"
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