once; she put back her veil and said, “Barker! Jeremiah Barker, is it you? I am very glad to find you here; you are just the friend I want, for it is very difficult to get a cab in this part of London today.”
“I shall be proud to serve you, ma’am; I am right glad I happened to be here. Where may I take you to, ma’am?”
“To the Paddington Station, and then if we are in good time, as I think we shall be, you shall tell me all about Mary and the children.”
We got to the station in good time, and being under shelter the lady stood a good while talking to Jerry. I found she had been Polly’s mistress, and after many inquiries about her she said, “How do you find the cab work suit you in winter? I know Mary was rather anxious about you last year.”
“Yes, ma’am, she was; I had a bad cough that followed me up quite into the warm weather, and when I am kept out late she does worry herself a good deal. You see, ma’am, it is all hours and all weathers, and that does try a man’s constitution; but I am getting on pretty well, and I should feel quite lost if I had not horses to look after. I was brought up to it, and I am afraid I should not do so well at anything else.”
“Well, Barker,” she said, “it would be a great pity that you should seriously risk your health in this work, not only for your own but for Mary’s and the children’s sake; there are many places where good drivers or good grooms are wanted, and if ever you think you ought to give up this cab work let me know.”
Then sending some kind messages to Mary she put something into his hand, saying, “There is five shillings each for the two children; Mary will know how to spend it.”
Jerry thanked her and seemed much pleased, and turning out of the station we at last reached home, and I, at least, was tired.