i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (the false prince .TXT) 📕

already. A little shiver passed through her, and she uttered a silent prayer that in the change her child would not drift away from her.

Miss Tolmache said if I wanted to go Co mass on a Sunday morning I could. "

"And have you gone, hinny?"

"No."

"Ah, lass. And he never asked you that ... he likely will when he comes down." Sarah glanced uneasily at the stair door.

"Look, hinny;

go on down to Shields and buy your books. "

"Ma, I'm not afraid of him; I can't imagine now why I ever was ... I'll tell him I haven't been."

"Oh, God in Heaven, don't do that! He'll tell Tim, and then ... Oh, lass, go on out! I don't want any more rows."

"But, ma, I haven't seen Annie yet."

"Oh, she'll sleep for another hour, she was up at six. Go on, lass, and get your books; go on before he comes down."

Kate looked steadily at her mother.

"All right, ma." She picked up her coat and hat.

"But why should a man like that be allowed to scare the wits out of people? He's terrified me for years, in fact up to this last few months. After all, tie's only a man, ma."

"Hinny 1' The horror in Sarah's voice conveyed itself to Kate, and she said, " Oh, don't look so shocked, ma; I didn't mean anything. "

"He's a priest, lass," said Sarah, with as much reproach as she could find it in her heart to use to her daughter.

"Yes, I suppose he is," said Kate dully. She put on her hat and coat.

"But why should he have the power to frighten people?" she asked, looking at her mother through the small mirror hanging on the wall.

"All right," she added, as Sarah clasped and unclasped her hands, "I won't say any more; I'm going." She turned, and smiled suddenly, a soft, illuminating smile, and, bending forward, kissed her mother swiftly on the lips.

"Ta-ta, ma;

and don't worry, I'll go to confession and communion tonight. But I'll not go to confession to him," she added, pulling a face.

From the front door, Sarah watched Kate go down the long narrow street; she watched her until she was lost in the muck and gloom of the day.

Then, with a sigh, she turned indoors. There was all this food, she had a whole sovereign, she had a present that Kate wouldn't let her see until tomorrow, and she had Kate. It's funny, she thought, as she cleared the table, I had a surprise sovereign last Christmas Eve too.

Immediately Kate was outside, one thing, and one thing alone, filled her mind: how was she going to word her telephone call to the Jacksons.

She turned into the main road from which the fifteen streets branched off;

walked between the tram sheds and the chemical works, and came to the Jarrow Slacks, with the great timbers, roped together in batches, lying helpless on the mud like skeletons unearthed in a graveyard. She passed the New Buildings opposite, similar in design to the group she had just left, and walked on down the long road connecting East Jarrow and Tyne Dock, past the sawmill, through the four slime-dripping arches, and into the heart of the docks. She passed the dock gates and stood on the pavement, waiting for a tram that would take her into Shields; and she wasn't aware of standing there, so familiar was the scene and so urgent was the need to make a choice of words for the telephone call. Trimmers stood in groups, a little apart, as befitted their superior position; men gathered in batches, awaiting the choice by gaffers for the unloading of grain or ore boats; strings of coolies, in single file, passed up and down the dock bank, bass bags, full of fish, swinging against their thin, shining legs; sturdy, brass-buttoned captains strolled, with conscious insolence, into the dock offices, or across the road to one of the line of public houses, that stood wall to wall, filling a whole street, even continuing up the dock bank; sailors of all nationalities pushed in and out of their doors; and Kate stood among this seething life, utterly unconscious of anything but her own great need.

Heads were turned towards her; remarks passed between men; women, some of whom knew her, stopped and stared. That's young Kate Hannigan.

You know, her who got dropped last year. Look at the way she's got up!

My God, like the Duchess of life! It must be a paying business. A chief engineer, catching sight of Kate as he crossed the road, changed his course and came and stood within a few feet of her, presumably waiting for a tram, his eyes devouring her hungrily.

Even when Kate reached the Shields post office, and had passed her money across the counter, and had waited until her call was through and was directed to the nearer of the two boxes which stood in a corner, even then she was still not dear in her mind what she would say. She was quite used to this wonderful invention, for Miss Tolmache had a telephone, and it was part of Kate's pleasant duty to answer it; whereas at the Jacksons the housekeeper had allowed no one of the staff but herself to touch the instrument.

She heard a buzz at the other end, and a voice said, "Hello! Who's speaking?" Kate was stricken dumb; it was Mrs. Hanlin, the housekeeper herself.

"Hello!" the voice said again.

"This is the Jackson residence." Alter your voice; try to speak like Miss Tolmache, said Kate, wildly, to herself.

"Hello!"

Yes? "

"Er ... is Mr. Herrington ... at home?"

"Mr. Herrington?"

"Yes. I mean, has he returned from abroad yet?"

"Oh yes." Kate leaned against the side of the booth for support.

"He came home three weeks ago. Who's speaking?"

"I'm ... I'm a friend of his.