By Charles Dickens

I

1. We found the house to which we had been directed by a friend of my guardian, and we went up to the top room. I tapped at the door, and a little shrill voice inside said: "We are locked in; Mrs. Blinder's got the key."

2. We had been prepared for this by Mrs. Blinder, the shopkeeper below, who had given us the key of the room.

3. I applied the key on hearing this, and opened the door. In a poor room, with a sloping ceiling, and containing very little furniture, was a mite of a boy, some five or six years old, nursing and hushing a heavy child of eighteen months. There was no fire, though the weather was cold; both children were wrapped in some poor shawls and tippets as a substitute. Their clothing was not so warm, however, but that their noses looked red and pinched and their small figures shrunken, as the boy walked up and down, nursing and hushing the child, with its head on his shoulder.

4. "Who has locked you up here alone?" we naturally asked.

"Charley," said the boy, standing still to gaze at us.

"Is Charley your brother?"

"No. She's my sister Charlotte. Father called her Charley."

5. "Where is Charley now?"

"Out a-washing," said the boy, beginning to walk up and down again, and taking the baby's nankeen bonnet much too near the bedstead by trying to gaze at us at the same time.

6. We were looking at one another and at these two children, when there came into the room a very little girl, childish in figure, but shrewd and older looking in the face—pretty faced, too—wearing a womanly sort of bonnet much too large for her and drying her bare arms on a womanly sort of apron. Her fingers were white and wrinkled with washing, and the soapsuds were yet smoking which she wiped off her arms. But for this she might have been a child playing at washing and imitating a poor workingwoman with a quick observation of the truth.

7. She had come running from some place in the neighborhood, and had made all the haste she could. Consequently, though she was very light, she was out of breath and could not speak at first, as she stood panting, and wiping her arms, and looking quietly at us.

8. "Oh, here's Charley!" said the boy.

The child he was nursing stretched forth its arms and cried out to be taken by Charley. The little girl took it in a womanly sort of manner belonging to the apron and the bonnet, and stood looking at us over the burden that clung to her most affectionately.

9. "Is it possible," whispered my guardian, as we put a chair for the little creature and got her to sit down with her load—the boy keeping close to her, holding to her apron—"that this child works for the rest! Look at this! Look at this!"

10. It was a thing to look at. The three children close together, and two of them relying solely on the third, and the third so young and yet with an air of age and steadiness that sat so strangely on the childish figure.

II

11. "Charley, Charley," said my guardian, "how old are you?"

"Over thirteen, sir," replied the child.

12. "Oh, what a great age!" said my guardian. "What a great age, Charley!"

I cannot describe the tenderness with which he spoke to her, half playfully, yet all the more compassionately and mournfully.

13. "And do you live alone here with these babies, Charley?" said my guardian.

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"Yes, sir," returned the child, looking up into his face with perfect confidence, "since father died."

14. "And how do you live, Charley? O Charley," said my guardian, turning his face away for a moment, "how do you live?"

"Since father died, sir, I've gone out to work. I'm out washing to-day."

15. "God help you, Charley!" said my guardian. "You're not tall enough to reach the tub."

"In pattens, I am, sir," she said quickly. "I've got a high pair that belonged to mother."

"And when did mother die? Poor mother!"

16. "Mother died just after Emma was born," said the child, glancing at the face upon her bosom. "Then father said I was to be as good a mother to her as I could. And so I tried. And so I worked at home, and did cleaning and nursing and washing for a long time before I began to go out. And that's how I know how; don't you see, sir?"

17. "And do you often go out?"

"As often as I can," said Charley, opening her eyes and smiling, "because of earning sixpences and shillings."

18. "And do you always lock the babies up when you go out?"

"To keep 'em safe, sir, don't you see?" said Charley. "Mrs. Blinder comes up now and then, and Mr. Gridley comes up sometimes, and perhaps I can run in sometimes; and they can play, you know, and Tom isn't afraid of being locked up. Are you, Tom?"

"No—o!" said Tom, stoutly.

19. "When it comes on dark, the lamps are lighted down in the court, and they show up here quite bright—almost quite bright. Don't they, Tom?"

"Yes, Charley," said Tom; "almost quite bright."

20. "Then, he's as good as gold," said the little creature—oh! in such a motherly, womanly way. "And when Emma's tired, he puts her to bed. And when he's tired, he goes to bed himself. And when I come home and light the candle and have a bit of supper, he sits up again and has it with me. Don't you, Tom?"

21. "Oh, yes, Charley," said Tom. "That I do!" And either in this glimpse of the great pleasure of his life, or in gratitude and love for Charley, who was all in all to him, he laid his face among the scanty folds of her frock and passed from laughing into crying.

22. It was the first time since our entry that a tear had been shed among these children. The little orphan girl had spoken of their father and their mother as if all that sorrow were subdued by the necessity of taking courage, and by her childish importance in being able to work, and by her bustling, busy way. But now, when Tom cried—although she sat quite tranquil, looking quietly at us, and did not by any movement disturb a hair of the head of either of her little charges—I saw two silent tears fall down her face.

23. I stood at the window with Ada, pretending to look at the housetops, and the blackened stack of chimneys, and the poor plants, and the birds, in little cages, belonging to the neighbors, when I found that Mrs. Blinder, from the shop below, had come in—perhaps it had taken her all this time to get upstairs—and was talking to my guardian.

"It's not much to forgive 'em the rent, sir," she said. "Who could take it from them!"

24. "Well, well!" said my guardian to us two. "It is enough that the time will come when this good woman will find that it was much, and that forasmuch as she did it unto the least of these—This child," he added, after a few moments, "could she possibly continue this?"

25. "Really, sir, I think she might," said Mrs. Blinder, getting her heavy breath by painful degrees. "She's as handy as it's possible to be. Bless you, sir, the way she tended the two children after the mother died was the talk of the yard. And it was a wonder to see her with him after he was ill, it really was. 'Mrs. Blinder,' he said to me, the very last he spoke—he was lying there—'Mrs. Blinder, I saw an angel sitting in this room last night along with my child, and I trust her to our Father.'"

26. We kissed Charley, and took her down-stairs with us, and stopped outside the house to see her run away to her work. I don't know where she was going, but we saw her run—such a little, little creature, in her womanly bonnet and apron—through a covered way at the bottom of the court, and melt into the city's strife and sound like a dewdrop in an ocean.

III

27. One night, after I had gone to my room, I heard a soft tap at my door. So I said, "Come in," and there came in a pretty little girl, neatly dressed in mourning, who dropped a courtesy.

28. "If you please, miss," said the little girl, in a soft voice, "I am Charley."

"Why, so you are!" said I, stooping down in astonishment, and giving her a kiss. "How glad I am to see you, Charley!"

29. "If you please, miss," pursued Charley, in the same soft voice, "I'm your maid."

"Charley?"

"If you please, miss, I'm a present to you, with Mr. Jarndyce's love."

30. I sat down with my hand on Charley's neck, and looked at Charley.

"And oh, miss," says Charley, clapping her hands, with the tears starting down her dimpled cheeks, "Tom's at school, if you please; and little Emma, she's with Mrs. Blinder, miss. And Tom, he would have been at school; and Emma, she would have been left with Mrs. Blinder; and I should have been here, all a deal sooner, miss; only Mr. Jarndyce thought that Tom and Emma and I had better get a little used to parting first, we were so small. Don't cry, if you please, miss."

31. "I can't help it, Charley."

"No, miss, I can't help it," says Charley. "And, if you please, miss, Mr. Jarndyce's love, and he thinks you'll like to teach me now and then. And, if you please, Tom and Emma and I are to see each other once a month. And I'm so happy and so thankful, miss," cried Charley, with a heaving heart, "and I'll try to be such a good maid!"

32. Charley dried her eyes, and entered on her functions, going in her matronly little way about and about the room, and folding up everything she could lay her hands upon.

33. Presently, Charley came creeping back to my side, and said: "Oh, don't cry, if you please, miss."

And I said again: "I can't help it, Charley."

And Charley said again: "No, miss; I can't help it." And so, after all, I did cry for joy, indeed, and so did she.