tairs in a fright.

The cook did not hear her, being up three pairs of stairs; down I went
again, and found Charlotte crying, told her again all I had seen in the
court yard, which made her cry more. She would ask the cook, and would
tell my mother--then hearing the cook coming downstairs, I cut off
through the passage up into the garden.

The ice was quite broken now, she could not avoid me, I promised not to
repeat what I had said and done, was forgiven, we kissed, and the same
day I broke my promise; this went on day after day, making promises and
breaking them, talking smuttily as well as I knew how, getting a slap on
my head, but no further, my chances were few. My friend, whom I made a
half confident of, was always taunting me with my want of success, and
boasting of what he would have done, had he had my opportunities.

My mother just at that time began to resume her former habits, leaving
the house frequently for walks and visits. One afternoon she being out
for the remainder of the day, I went home unexpectedly; the cook was
going out, I was to fetch my mother home in the evening; Charlotte laid
the dinner for me; we had the usual kissing, I was unusually bold and
smutty. Charlotte finding me not to be going out, seemed anxious. All
the dinner things had been taken away, when out went the cook, and there
were Charlotte, my little brother and I alone. It was her business to
sit with him in the garden parlor when mother was out, so as to be able
to open the street-door readily, as well as go into the garden if the
weather was fine. It was a fine day of Autumn, she went into the parlor
and was sitting on the huge old sofa, Tom playing on the floor, when I
sat myself down by her side; we kissed and toyed, and then with heart
beating, I began my talk and waited my opportunity.

The cook would be back in a few minutes, said she. I knew better,
having heard mother tell cook she need not be home until eight o'clock.
Although I knew this, I was fearful, but at length mustered courage to
sing my cock and cunt song. She was angry, but it was made up. She went
to give something to Tom, and stepping back put her foot on the lace of
one boot which was loose, sat down on the sofa and put up one leg over
the other, to relace it. I undertook to do it for her, saw her neat
ankle, and a bit of a white stocking. "Snatch at her cunt," rang in my
ears. I had never attempted it since the afternoon in the kitchen.

Lacing the boot