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Updated: May 3, 2025
Rawcliffe gave such a start that he almost jumped from the ground. His face, as he put down the letter and turned, was that of a gibbering idiot; his lips moved, but no sound came from them. 'What are you doing in my room? demanded Miss Rodney, in her severest tones. 'I really beg your pardon I really beg 'I suppose this is not the first visit with which you have honoured me?
Without a word Miss Rodney took a match-box from her chimney-piece, entered the passage, entered the second parlour that occupied by Mr. Rawcliffe and lit a candle which stood on the table. 'You'll be so kind, she said, looking her fellow-lodger in the eyes, 'as not to set the house on fire. 'Oh, no fear, he replied, with a high laugh. 'Quite accustomed.
Rawcliffe, besides being a poor creature, knew very well that it was dangerous for him to get involved in a scandal; his stepfather, upon whom he depended, asked but a fair excuse for cutting him adrift, and more than one grave warning had come from his mother during the past few months.
Turpin and her daughters had gone, as usual, to church, the carpenter had gone to smoke a pipe with a neighbour, and Mr. Rawcliffe believed himself alone in the house. But Miss Rodney was not at church this evening; she had a headache, and after tea lay down in her bedroom for a while. Soon impatient of repose, she got up and went to her parlour.
An' doctor, 'e sat oop wi' 't tree nights roonin', 'e did. 'E didn' so mooch as taak 's cleathes off. Nad Alderson, 'e said, 'e'd navver seen anything like what doctor 'e doon for t' lil' thing." Mrs. Gale's face reddened and she sniffed. "'E's saaved Nad's baaby for 'm, right enoof, Dr. Rawcliffe 'as. But 'e's down wi't hissel, t' poastman says." It was at Gwenda that she gazed.
Rowcliffe drew up the sheet and covered it. "You'd better come out of this. It isn't good for you," he said. "I knaw what's good for me, Dr. Rawcliffe." Jim stuck his hands in his breeches and gazed stubbornly at the sheeted mound. "Come," Rowcliffe said, "don't give way like this. Buck up and be a man." "A ma-an? You wait till yor turn cooms, doctor."
Her brown eyes showed a dull defiance and deprecation of the human destiny. "Where is he?" he said. "Oop there, in t' room wi' 's feyther." "Been drinking again, or what?" "Naw, Dr. Rawcliffe, 'e 'assn't. I suddn' a sent for yo all this road for nowt." She drew him into the house place, and whispered. "I'm feared 'e'll goa queer in 'is 'head, like. 'E's sot there by t' body sence yesterda noon.
Luke's, in whose parish it was situated, had objectionable features. Nothing grave could be alleged against Mrs. Turpin, who regularly attended the Sunday evening service; but her husband, a carpenter, spent far too much time at 'The Swan With Two Necks'; and then there was a lodger, young Mr. Rawcliffe, concerning whom Wattleborough had for some time been too well informed.
Yet when t' owd gentleman was taaken bad, Jimmy, 'e couldn' do too mooch for 'im. 'E was set on pullin' 's feyther round. And when 'e found 'e couldn't keep t' owd gentleman, 'e gets it on 'is mind like broodin'. And 'e's got nowt to coomfort 'im." She sat down to it now. "Yo see, Dr. Rawcliffe, Jim's feyther and 'is granfeyther before 'im, they wuss good Wesleyans. It's in t' blood.
Turpin crept softly to the sitting-room where her offended lodger was quietly reading. 'I wanted just to say, miss, that I'm willing to give Mr. Rawcliffe notice next Wednesday. 'Thank you, Mrs. Turpin, was the cold reply. 'I have already taken other rooms. The landlady gasped, and for a moment could say nothing. Then she besought Miss Rodney to change her mind. Mr.
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