Chapter XXIV: Mr. Harding Washes His Hands of John Monday

MUCH was Mr. Harding's surprise when, on going to the railway station to meet Mousey, he found her in company with her Uncle Dick. The little girl's face was wreathed with smiles as her cousin assisted her to alight from the carriage, and she looked really delighted at the sight of him.

"Glad to see you, my dear," he said, as he kissed her affectionately. "So you've brought your uncle with you, eh? Glad to see you, too, sir!" he declared, as he shook hands with Mr. Dawson, wondering at the same time what brought him there. "How are Cousin Eliza and the children, eh?"

"Capital!" Mr. Dawson answered. "How do you think your little maid is looking?"

Mr. Harding was pleased to hear Mousey spoken of as his possession, and he made a cordial reply—

"She does credit to the care you and Cousin Eliza have taken of her. I thank you most gratefully for your goodness to the child."

"Oh, as to that, we're all very fond of Mousey," Mr. Dawson replied, with a smiling glance at the little girl's animated face, "and it's been a great pleasure to have her with us, I assure you."

"You will come home with us and have some tea, I trust?" Mr. Harding said politely. "Maria will have it ready by the time we arrive."

"Thank you. I have a matter of business to discuss with you; in fact, that is the reason of my being here now," Mr. Dawson explained.

"Does the business affect Mousey?" the old man asked sharply.

"No, it has nothing whatever to do with her."

They had left the station, and in a few minutes reached Mr. Harding's home. The shop looked as dingy and dismal as ever; but a new assistant stood behind the counter—a spruce, well-dressed young man, who stared at Mousey and Mr. Dawson very hard. Mr. Harding took no notice of him, but led the way into the parlour, whilst Mousey rushed off to the kitchen in quest of Maria.

"Good gracious, child!" Maria exclaimed, as the child flung herself into her arms; "you don't mean to say you're actually pleased to be back again!"

"Yes, I'm really glad!" Mousey answered, hugging Maria tightly. "Of course, I was very sorry to leave Aunt Eliza and my cousins; but I wanted to see you badly, and Cousin Robert, too."

"Well, that's good hearing, anyway. I thought you'd never want to return, and I believe master had his doubts about it. We've missed you, my dear, more than I can tell."

"Guess who's in the parlour, Maria. Oh, you can't! Why, Uncle Dick!"

"You don't say so! Then he'll be here to tea, I suppose? There's the town porter with your box, I hear. I must go, and help take it upstairs—we've no John Monday now."

But it was Uncle Dick who insisted on carrying Mousey's box to her room, though Mr. Harding assured him there was no necessity for him to do so.

"How considerate your uncle is," Maria remarked to the little girl, as Mr. Dawson rejoined Mr. Harding in the parlour. "I do like to see a man helpful—I'll say that for John Monday, with all his faults, he was always willing to put a hand to anything. Ah, dear, master made a mistake when he drove the boy away."

"Did Cousin Robert really drive him away?" Mousey asked in a low tone. "Oh, do tell me what happened!"

"After the burglary there was a terrible scene," Maria responded. "I don't like to think of it, much more talk about it. Of course, master had great cause for anger, but he wouldn't listen to a word the poor lad had to say—wouldn't let him explain anything. Ah, poor John! I wonder what has become of him."

Then Mousey, who had with difficulty refrained from telling her the news before, burst forth with the whole story of how the boy had come to her uncle's house, and what Mr. Dawson's business was with Mr. Harding.

Maria listened in profound astonishment, her face expressing decided relief.

"Thank God, he has fallen into good hands!" she exclaimed. "For my part, I hope master won't have him back, for I feel he would have a chance of leading a better life if he were away from here. Not that master means to do him harm, but they don't seem able to understand each other."

"Who is Cousin Robert's new assistant, Maria?" Mousey asked.

"A young man called Jones. He's learnt his trade already, and talks of buying Mr. Harding's business, I believe. Nothing's settled yet, but Mr. Harding told me soon after John Monday ran away that he thought he should retire before long, and take a house in one of the suburbs of the town. That's a piece of news you didn't expect. Mr. Jones is here to see for himself what the business is like."

"Does he live in the house, Maria?" Mousey inquired in great astonishment.

"No, indeed I don't fancy our way of living would suit him. If he buys the business, I expect he'll change this place so that we shall hardly know it. You wouldn't be sorry to leave this house for another, would you?"

"No," the little girl answered frankly. "I should be very glad, because even now I don't quite like the thought of the river underneath."

Mousey found on her return to the parlour that her uncle had informed Mr. Harding what his business was, for the old man was talking excitedly about John Monday and his misdeeds. During tea-time the subject of conversation was the same; but Mousey could not find out what her Cousin's real sentiments were regarding his late assistant. One thing was evident, that he was relieved to find the boy was safe, for he frankly admitted that he had troubled a great deal about him.

"To think that he should have found his way to your doors!" Mr. Harding exclaimed to Mr. Dawson. "I must say I wonder at you for taking him in."

"Do you? I felt responsible for him, you see."

"Responsible! You! My dear sir," Mr. Harding said, with his most sarcastic smile, "you cannot imagine that I should have blamed you if you had declined to have anything to do with him?"

"Such an idea never crossed my mind," Mr. Dawson acknowledged. "No. My responsibility was to the poor boy's Father in Heaven. I could not have knelt down in prayer to God, Mr. Harding, if I had turned away the stranger He had sent to my gate."

The old man's eyes drooped; the sarcastic smile faded from his countenance, and he seemed unable to make a reply.

"The question is, whether you wish him to return to you or not," Mr. Dawson proceeded. "I had a long, serious talk with him yesterday, and pointed out to him what I considered was his duty; and he promised me faithfully, if you had him back, to do his utmost to please you. He truly repents of his ill-conduct, which, if you will excuse my saying so, appears to me to have been more the result of indiscretion than intentional wrong-doing."

"I do not wish John Monday to return. I wash my hands of him," Mr. Harding responded in a cold tone. "Yes, I wash my hands of him," he repeated. "I am thinking of selling my business shortly to the young man you saw in the shop. I mean to retire. You can keep the boy, since you are evidently greatly interested in him."

"I am indeed interested in him," Mr. Dawson said quietly, ignoring the other's sneer. "I trust you agree with me that he has not been in the company of Herbert Hambly since he left here?"

"Ye—es," Mr. Harding acknowledged; "I believe I misjudged him in that. Am I to understand that you actually intend to employ him?"

"Yes, that is my intention. I have hopes that he will make a good, honest man yet."

"And suppose he disappoints you? You will lose patience with him as I have done, for I tell you he is enough to tire the patience of anyone."

Mr. Dawson was silent. He glanced from the eager face of his little niece to the wrinkled visage of the old man, and hesitated.

"Well?" said Mr. Harding impatiently.

"Who am I that I should lose patience with a fellow creature?" was the reply in low, moved tones. "What hope would there be for any of us if God lost patience with us? What if our fellow-creatures do disappoint us? I wonder how often we disappoint the Almighty God? If John Monday disappoints me, I'll try to bear with him, and pray God to show me how to influence him for good. I should like, sir, to be able to tell the boy that you forgive him, and bear him no ill-will."

"I bear him no ill-will," Mr. Harding responded; "indeed, I hope he may repay you for your kindness to him by endeavouring to do his duty, and studying your interests—he never studied mine. As to forgiving him—well, yes, you may tell him I forgive him, if you like."

Mousey looked at the old man with a brilliant smile of pleasure illuminating her face, and running round to his side, put her arms round his neck as she said—

"Cousin Robert, why do you pretend to be so cross when you're nothing of the kind? You know you want poor John to get on and please Uncle Dick."

"Did you ever hear such a saucy child?" Mr. Harding inquired, appealing to Mr. Dawson, who was astonished to see that the old man was pleased at Mousey's coaxing tone. "She never minds what she says to me. And she evidently thinks nothing of the loss John Monday has caused me."

"Do you mean the money the burglar stole?" Mousey asked. "Was it much? I thought it was only a little."

"It was three pounds sixteen shillings and sixpence," he replied, with a regretful sigh.

"The police have no clue to the thief, I suppose?" Mr. Dawson questioned.

"No, and are not likely to get one. They agree with me it was doubtless Herbert Hambly—I don't suppose that is his real name, by the way—because he has disappeared from the neighbourhood altogether. I think most likely we shall never hear of him again; I am sure I hope not."

Shortly after tea Mr. Dawson took his departure. He was perfectly satisfied with the results of his visit, for he had left his little niece looking bright and contented; and he knew John Monday would consider the news that his late master did not want him again the best he could hear; besides which, the good man was delighted that he had obtained forgiveness for the boy, so that altogether he returned home in excellent spirits.