Читать книгу Sydney Lisle, the Heiress of St. Quentin онлайн

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“Good-bye, then, father,” said Lord Francis; and he took his hat and went.

The little governess had no near relations, and the young couple were married almost immediately. He was twenty-two and she was eighteen.

He gave up the army and obtained a clerkship in a house of business in London. But the salary was small, and, strive as they would, they could not live within their income.

She tried to do a little teaching to add to it; but her health was delicate and pupils hard to get. Their small reserve fund melted fast, though Lord Francis worked long after office hours at odd jobs for the sake of the few extra shillings that they brought him.

Hard work and poor living brought their usual consequence. When Dr. Chichester broke it very gently to the young husband that there was no getting better for Sydney, he was aware that the two would not probably be parted long.

When the young mother died one grey December morning, with her head upon her husband’s shoulder, Mrs. Chichester carried home the baby to her own fast-filling nursery, where sturdy seven-year-old Hugh took at once to “his baby,” as he called her, to distinguish her from red-faced Ronald in the cradle, whose advent had meant so many “hushings” at times when he wished to make a noise.