my poor dear
husband? But, sir, a mother's heart is never entirely lost to feeling,
and, even when her children are bad, she still loves them, still hopes
and believes that they may grow better. For four mortal years I have
stood the shame of it, and it is a miracle I have a hair still left on
my head for worry and vexation; but at last it has become too much for
me; I can stand it no longer. If I were to tell of the abominations that
go on in my house every day, Mr. Boltay, your hair would rise up with
horror! Only yesterday I spoke to my daughters, I upbraided them; and
the words were no sooner out of my mouth than, like harpies incarnate,
they fell upon me, all four of them: 'What do you mean by preaching at
us? What business is it of yours what we do? Don't we keep you like a
lady? The very dress on your back, the very cap on your head, you got
from us! There's not a stick or a straw in the whole house that belongs
to you. We earned it all!' I was terror-stricken. Was this my sole
reward for so many bitter, sleepless nights, which I had passed at their
sick-beds? for taking the very food from my own mouth to give it to
them? for humbling myself and going in rags and tatters that they might
dress in fine feathers? Then, sir, instead of being ashamed, the eldest
of them stood up to me, and told me straight out that if I did not like
to live in the same house with, and be kept by them, I might go and
shift for myself, for Pressburg was large enough, and turned me into the
street. I did not know what to do. My first thought was to make for the
Danube; but, at the selfsame instant, it seemed as if some angel
whispered in my ear, 'Have you not a daughter whom good, benevolent
people are bringing up in all honour and virtue? Go there! These good
people will not reject you; they will even give you some corner or other
where you may stretch your limbs until it please God to take you away.'
And so, sir, I came on here, just as you see me. I have absolutely
nothing under heaven I can call my own. I have not tasted a bit of food
this day; and if you turn me from your door, and if my daughter will not
see me, I must die of hunger in the street; for I would rather perish
than accept another morsel from my ungrateful and shameful children."

The part of all this rigmarole which appealed to Master Boltay most
strongly was that this worthy woman had eaten no food that day. So he
considered it his Christian duty to there and then tak