My Secret Life

Mary broken-hearted took lodgings in a cottage close by, and did needle-work. “Nothing”, said she, “shall make me go to service again, I only did it to please him, hoping he would come back to me, but I hate service, and don't care what becomes of me.” She was always at home. I visited her regularly for two or three months, giving her what little money I could, but she was reckless and would spend money in comfort, though not in show. She came out with me not in her silk dresses, but her plainest ones, and little by little pawned her dresses, rings, and all her finery. Then she worked harder and harder, besought me to give her just enough to keep her, however humbly, for go to service she would not again. Again she got with child.

All this time of course our fucking was regular, but although I liked her, and more than liked her, I never had a strong affection for her. When her money was gone, and she was poor in clothes, she was still cheerful. I gave what I could, but could with difficulty keep out of debt, and insisted on her going to service. “Then we shall never see each other”, said she, and begged me to go on, allowing a trifle; I did so, being content with her, never finding her out, never having a suspicion of her having another man, and feeling much anxiety about her.

But none of my money was my own, and what use as a beggar could I be to her? — so yielding to my solicitations at last she again went to service at a short distance from my house. Then I found out a convenient house close by, she got out as often as she could, and we had stealthy meetings and pokings in a hurry. The old lady and her middle-aged son with whom she lived liked her, and indulged her; so we often got two or three hours together, yet the difficulty of meeting be-came irksome, she got restless, would go as a bar-maid (she understood the business), go to America, go any-where so as to get away from service. Then circumstances prevented my meeting her for two or three weeks; when I did again she reproached me, and hoped I had not got any one else.

Soon after she told me her sister was in the family way, having been seduced by the young man who was to have married her, I saw the letter describing this. “I am glad of it”, said Mary, “for she was hard on me.” The sister came to town, I wanted to see her, but Mary would never arrange it, though I saw her letters frequently. Then I made one or two appointments with Mary which were not kept, went to the house one evening, and whilst Mary was whispering to me at the street door, her Master appeared, and asked who I was. Mary said I was her cousin. Then he ordered her in-doors, saying they did not allow their servants callers.

Then her Mistress began to treat her harshly; and we thought some of my letters had been intercepted. I was obliged to go abroad for a time, and wrote to tell her. On my return I found letter after letter from her at the post-office. She was about to leave, wanted my advice, would I allow her ten shillings a week, she would make it do; be faithful to me, and live close by me; go to service again she would not, she would sooner go on the streets, her sister had done so. Again an upbraiding letter, — she never thought I would have neglected her so, I who was so kind and affectionate, I whom she loved so much, — if I did not reply it was the last I would hear of her.

I dressed myself up shabbily, and at dusk went to the place she lived at. The Master opened the door but did not know me again. She had left, had gone he knew not where. “Why?” did I ask. Then I tried all possible places, but I never heard of her for years, and greatly feared she had gone gay; but although I haunted gay places to find her, I never saw her there.

Some seven years afterwards I met her. She had gone to service again, and had written to tell me where. I never had that letter. There was again a bachelor son in the house, who made advances to her, and finally kept her. Meanwhile I had moved my residence, and oddly enough opposite to the house in which her protector had lived for many years with his mother. Mary actually knew everything about my domestic affairs almost as well as if she had lived opposite to me herself, for my neighbours knew a good deal about me. He kept her at a nice little house some miles off.

It was opposite the National Gallery that we met in the dusk of the evening. I went to J. . .s' street with her, and to bed, and fucked her with rapture till I brought on her poorliness in floods.

Her protector had just married, parted with her, and given her money. She was going home to her native place, — what to do I don't recollect, — she was still lovely, although somewhat broken. I never saw her after that night. About five years afterwards she wrote to say she was badly off, would I send her a trifle. I sent her two pounds, she thanked me in a letter, and said in it, that she often cried when she thought of me, and past time, — and I never heard of her after-wards.