The Convict's Child: The Helmet of Hope
9781465680686
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
ANY one of this name live here? asked the postman, as he held out a letter to Norah, the little maid-of-all-work, who was on her knees cleaning the door-step on a wintry morning at the close of the year. "'Miss Peele,' why, that must mean me!" cried the young girl, with naive surprise. It was the first time in her life that Norah had ever received a letter, and it was with feelings of wonder and curiosity that she took from the postman the note so strangely addressed to herself. She looked at every part of the envelope, post-mark, address, fancy-wafer and all, to prolong the novel pleasure by guessing who could have sent it, and what the contents could be. "It can't be from mother,—she never writes but her name at the bottom of the washing bills; and as for Dan—he's not out of round text. Could it be from Uncle Ned? It is not like a man's handwriting, and I'm sure he would, never put 'Miss' for a little servant like me. I must just peep in and see, I was never so curious in all my life!" Norah wiped her wet cold hands on her apron, and then, taking care to save the pretty wafer, opened the envelope, and took out the note. She raised her eyebrows with surprise at the first word, "Madam," and almost burst out laughing at the notion of being thus addressed; but Norah's mirth changed to grave perplexity, as she turned hastily over to the signature at the end. "'E. Cupper, Matron of the B— Workhouse.' It must be some mistake,—I am sure there is some mistake—this letter can never be meant for me." Norah examined the envelope again, but the address was perfectly clear. Rather awed by receiving a letter from that great prison-like building which she had passed when on a little journey with her mistress, a letter that looked so formal and neat, and actually began with "Madam," Norah set herself to read, from beginning to end, the contents, which were as follows;—"Madam,—I have been requested by an inmate of this house of the name of Sophy Puller to inform you of her being here, and to beg that you will come as soon as possible to see her. Visitors are admitted on Fridays from two till four. The girl is almost blind from the effects of rheumatic fever, and is in great distress of mind." Here followed name and date. The letter dropped from the little maid's hand. It might have been a study to have watched the changes in her soft round face as she read it slowly, tracing each line with her finger. At the name "Sophy Puller," an expression of interest, first mixed with pleasure, then with pain, flitted over her features—succeeded by one of shocked surprise at the terrible words "almost blind." This was the first time for almost four months that Norah had heard of one who had once been her favourite companion and friend. Norah knew that Sophy's father had been taken up for uttering false money, that he had been tried, condemned, and transported; Norah knew that on the day of his arrest Sophy had disappeared from the county town in which she had been working as a milliner's girl,—but here her information ended. Often had Norah longed and prayed to find out what had become of her hapless companion, bereft of an only parent by what was far worse than death. The name of Sophy had never been forgotten in the prayers of the little maid. But to hear of her thus,—sick, blind, and unhappy, in a parish Union, such news were more sad than ignorance; and as Norah read the note once again, the tears gushed fast from her eyes.
