in her. His trunk, purposely left undirected in order to maintain the secrecy of his journey, was found on board. The members of the firm were now fully convinced that some fatal accident had happened to him. They sent for Bessie’s brother, and begged him to break the matter to his sister, promising on their part to leave no stone unturned to clear up the mystery that hung upon her husband’s disappearance.
We purposely pass over the horror, the incredulity, and the despair that followed one another in poor Bessie’s mind when the facts broke with full force upon her. The feelings of the bereaved wife must be sacred.
Meanwhile the partners set every engine at work to discover the truth. Detective officers came to and fro, examined and cross-examined with ceaseless activity, following up the scent like hounds. The facts by degrees unfolded themselves, and it became evident that Richardson must have been drowned that night of the fog on his way to the ship.
But what became of the body? More restlessness of detectives and further circumstances were relieved of their veil of mystery. A drowned man had certainly been found the very morning after his disappearance. The body was traced to the inquest, the records of that inquiry looked up, and all doubt removed that the remains there represented as those of Macfarlane were in reality none other than those of poor Richardson. There was no possibility of direct identification at this distance of time, but a record of the articles found on the body (which had been given up to Woodley) had been preserved at the police-office, and were identified by the wretched wife as the contents of her husband’s pockets on the fatal day. But who and where was Woodley? What interest could he have in falsely swearing to the body? Was it a conspiracy or a mistake? More tracing of evidence; and now was found a memorandum in the registry, that the insurance company had asked for information concerning the deceased, and received a copy of the entry. This was a fresh clue: a light broke in upon the darkness which had hitherto surrounded the inquiry. The insurance company was communicated with, and, after having investigated the facts, came to the irresistible conclusion that their client Macfarlane had undoubtedly given evidence of his own decease, and was, in the society of Mrs. Mac—who had completely recovered from her indisposition—enjoying a good slice of the company’s capital in some foreign country. J. F. C.
WOMAN’S WORK.
Public attention has been deservedly drawn of late to the very important fact that the industry of this great country is practically closed to the educated element of Englishwomen. Beyond the mere servile occupations, to the English lady who has been tenderly nurtured, but who is reduced to distress by misfortune, there remains, indeed, a sorry choice of professions, descending in very rapid steps from the governess to the sempstress. The boys of a large family may, and do, push their fortunes in the world in a hundred directions. The girls, on the contrary, find every door shut against them. To them, as a class, delicacy of eye and hand are gifts with which the Almighty has endowed them, but which we Britishers steadily ignore. We allow our women to toil in the fields, and to do the work of brute beasts in coal-mines; but when it comes to tasks for which the delicacy of their organisation is particularly adapted, we find no place for them in our industrial economy. Nay, it is boldly asserted, that their employment would only result in displacing the labour of the other sex. If this were a valid objection, our argument would be at an end. But it must be evident to all, that Nature herself has drawn the line between male and female labour; it is a nice question of physical power. When we see half a dozen stalwart young men selling ribbons in a mercer’s shop, there is a palpable waste of power, and we feel almost inclined to ask for only one hour of the old days of the press-gang. On the other hand, when we see women in the fields, bent double with hoeing in the midday sun, we feel that they are overtasked. The Anglo-Saxon, it must be remembered, is not like a French tradesman, who is content to sit and smoke in his thrumb night-cap, whilst his wife does the work. He must be doing, and if not at home, he pushes out to the new empires he has conquered and built up by his energy. With the better class of educated women, however, it is far different. In the first place, it must be remembered, that there are many hundred thousands in excess of the young men, an excess which every year will probably increase as our male population swarms out in increasing numbers to our colonies. The females of the mere working-classes are amply provided for in our great manufactures and in domestic service; but the question is, what shall be done with the young daughters of our respectable households. The time inevitably comes when the breadwinner that has sustained them in comfort is called away; probably leaving but little provision behind him, and the happy little circle is broken up, and its members have to commence a fierce struggle face to face with the hard world. According to Mrs. Grundy there are but two situations which young ladies so situated can possibly seek—that of governess, or nursery governess, according to the nature of the education they possess. Even here the “market” is fearfully overstocked. If they answer an advertisement for a situation, the advertiser meets them with the chilling fact, that she has already received a hundred applications before luncheon-time. It is clear that the first thing to be done is to educate this tyrant society, this terrible Mrs. Grundy, who rides upon our shoulders as pitilessly as ever the Old Man of the Sea did upon those of Sinbad.
If it were not considered such a horrible thing for an educated woman to do for money what she may do for amusement with applause, the difficulty would be at an end, and it would speedily be discovered that in the field of intelligent labour the female organisation would be enabled to work harmoniously beside that of the other sex, and, in many cases, to rival it. With regard to the higher class of occupations, there can be no doubt that the closed door is gradually giving