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Updated: June 25, 2025
It was scarcely an hour from the time the matron had left her until she returned; but when she did so, she cried out in alarm, for Bernardine's face was of an ashen pallor, her dark eyes were like coals of fire, and her hands were cold as death. The matron went up to her in great alarm, and gently touched the bowed head. "Bernardine," she murmured, gently "Bernardine, my poor child, are you ill?
In the excitement, he forgot to ask whose life it was he had saved. The fire proved to be a fearful holocaust. Canal Street had never known a conflagration that equaled it. Doctor Gardiner made superhuman efforts to enter the tenement-house, to save the life of the old basket-maker Bernardine's hapless father who stood paralyzed, incapable of action, at an upper window.
It is barbarous. In my opinion, that is carrying parental authority too far. This marriage must not take place, Bernardine. It would be wicked a sin against God." Although Miss Rogers did her best to probe into the mystery for Bernardine's sake the girl was strangely obdurate.
He remembered vaguely that Bernardine's father had suddenly become ill, that his powers had all failed him, and that he lingered on, just a wreck of humanity, and then died. That was twenty years ago. Then he thought of Bernardine, and said to himself, "History repeats itself." That was all. Unkind?
And the Disagreeable Man, much to Bernardine's amazement, drew from his pocket a small parcel, which he confided to Liza's care. Every one pressed round her while she opened it, and found what she had so often wished for, a silver watch and chain. "Ach," she cried, "how heavenly! How all the girls here will envy me! How angry my dear friend Susanna will be!"
If the past year had taught her nothing else, it had at least taught her that goodness and badness are very evenly distributed. She had found both good and bad behind those tall grey walls just as she had found them in the great free world outside. Her last memory, as her first, was of Sister Bernardine's kind eyes.
"You will not try to help yourself, but are going willingly, like a lamb to the slaughter, as it were." David Moore seemed to be as unnerved as Bernardine over the coming marriage. If he heard a sound in Bernardine's room at night, he would come quickly to her door and ask if anything was the matter. He seemed to be always awake, watching, listening for something.
Her charm of manner gave him some satisfaction; and when Bernardine came in a few minutes later, she found Mr. Reffold looking happier and more contented than she had ever seen him. Mrs. Reffold, who was relieved at the interruption, received Bernardine warmly, though there was a certain amount of shyness which she had never been able to conquer in Bernardine's presence.
But I know how to wait: if I have not learnt anything else, I have learnt how to wait. And then" . . . Bernardine had unconsciously put her hand on his arm; her face was full of suffering. "And then?" she asked, with almost painful eagerness. "And then I shall follow your Dutchman's example," he said deliberately. Bernardine's hand fell from the Disagreeable Man's arm. She shivered.
This was not Bernardine's occupation: it was difficult to say what she did with herself, for she had not yet followed Robert Allitsen's advice and taken up some definite work: and the very fact that she had no such wish, pointed probably to a state of health which forbade it.
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