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Lips 4E.book Page i Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
A New Psychology
of Women
Fourth Edition
Lips 4E.book Page ii Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
Lips 4E.book Page iii Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
A New Psychology
of Women
Gender, Culture, and Ethnicity
Fourth Edition
Hilary M. Lips
Radford University
WAVELAND
PRESS, INC.
Long Grove, Illinois
Lips 4E.book Page iv Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
To Wayne,
Whose partnership, support, and enthusiasm have helped to make this
and many other projects more engaging, intricate, and joyful
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher.
7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Lips 4E.book Page v Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
Contents
2 Female–Male Comparisons: 40
The Meaning and Significance of Difference
A Brief History of the Research 42
Approaches to Knowledge: Issues of Method, Evidence, and Truth 46
Feminist Issues and Influences in Psychological Research 46
Quantitative or Qualitative Research: How Important Are Numbers? 48
Doing Science: Logical Positivism, Essentialism,
and Social Constructionism 49
What Is Good Scientific Evidence? 52
Alternative Approaches to Knowledge 58
v
Lips 4E.book Page vi Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
vi Contents
Contents vii
viii Contents
Contents ix
12 Sexualities 451
Research on Sexuality: Where Do Our “Facts” Come From? 453
Sexual Desire and Sexual Response 458
The Medical Model of Sexuality and the Focus on Orgasm 462
Lips 4E.book Page x Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
x Contents
Contents xi
Glossary 594
References 605
Author Index 681
Subject Index 696
Lips 4E.book Page xii Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
Hilary Lips was born in Canada and completed her undergraduate work at the Uni-
versity of Windsor. After earning her doctorate at Northwestern University, she taught
at the University of Winnipeg for a number of years, where she developed a course on
the psychology of gender and helped to initiate the Women’s Studies program. She has
been a visiting scholar at the University of Arizona’s Southwest Institute for Research
on Women, the University of South Florida, The University of Costa Rica, and the
Institute for Psychology of the Chinese Academy of Sciences. She is the author of a
number of books and articles about the psychology of women and gender, including
Women, Men, and Power (Mayfield, 1991), Sex and Gender: An Introduction, Sixth Edi-
tion (McGraw-Hill, 2008), and Gender: The Basics (Routledge, 2014). She spent time
in New Zealand as a recipient of a Distinguished American Scholar award from the
New Zealand–US Educational Foundation. She taught for many years in the Psychol-
ogy Department at Radford University, Virginia, where she was also the Director of
the Center for Gender Studies.
Lips 4E.book Page xiii Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
Preface
I t is becoming increasingly clear that the world is a small and interconnected place,
and that those of us who live our lives in North America cannot afford to ignore the
lives, experiences, and opinions of those whose lives are lived elsewhere. Psychology,
like many other disciplines, is shifting its focus to include an awareness that our theo-
ries and research are not culture neutral—that what any one of us thinks we know
about human beings in general is shaped and limited by our own culture and experi-
ence. This book is designed to place the study of the psychology of women in line with
this shifting focus.
One of the scholars who reviewed the initial proposal for this book, after express-
ing the opinion that such a project was timely and important, went on to say, rather
ominously, “She is trying to write the psychology of all women everywhere.” Let me say
at the outset that this impossible task is indeed not the one I would presume to set for
myself. I cannot but write from my own perspective, my own cultural background, my
own habits of thinking. In using a global, multicultural approach to writing about the
psychology of women, I do not pretend to be neutral or “perspectiveless.” My perspec-
tive is that of a feminist social psychologist, a middle-class White woman who grew up
in Canada and has spent much of her career in the United States. I have tried to be sen-
sitive to the limitations of this perspective, to seek out and include the voices and work
of those whose backgrounds differ from mine, to provide some overview of the type
and amount of the diversity that exists among women, and to illustrate some ways that
the knowledge we create, learn, and transmit about women and gender is shaped by
our culture.
Throughout the book, the primary aim is to provide some understanding of how
gender-related expectations interact with other cultural assumptions and stereotypes,
and with social and economic conditions, to affect women’s experiences and behavior.
A second goal is simply to provide information about the ways women’s lives differ in
different cultures.
An important focus of the book is research carried out by scholars outside the
United States, or outside the mainstream within the United States. Each chapter
includes discussions of issues, data, and findings by researchers in various countries,
thus allowing readers to learn something about what issues are considered important
xiii
Lips 4E.book Page xiv Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
xiv Preface
within other cultures. By using this approach, I have tried to avoid, to the extent that it
is possible, the type of comparative method that uses the experience of middle-class
Americans as a yardstick against which everyone else’s experience is judged.
Women, in particular, have much to gain by learning about the ways their difficul-
ties and opportunities as women transcend, or do not transcend, cultural and ethnic
group boundaries. In most (some would argue all) cultures, women are disadvantaged
in some ways in relation to men. Around the world, men control more of the
resources, hold more of the leadership positions, are more likely to visit severe vio-
lence on their partners, and wield more formal power than women. Thus, women in
different groups might well benefit from exchanging our perceptions of the obstacles
we face and sharing strategies for gaining power, and women worldwide are likely to
gain strength by working together as we try to move toward better conditions for
women, followed at intervals by international meetings to take stock of women’s prog-
ress, leading to a goal of “Planet 50-50” by 2030.
But there is another benefit when women from different groups listen carefully to
one another’s voices. If we understand something more about our similarities and dif-
ferences, we as women may be less likely to share in or tolerate the assumptions and
practices that oppress women of other groups. Those of us who are European Ameri-
can may, for instance, begin to understand why African American women might feel
excluded and invisible in a college course that treats the notion of employment as a
choice women have traditionally been able to make. We may, as temporarily able-bod-
ied women, begin to see how women with disabilities are sometimes marginalized
when issues of strength or sexuality are discussed. We may begin to see the connec-
tions between development aid and the literacy and reproductive control that give the
women of rural India a chance to break out of and change patterns of dowry deaths,
high infant and maternal mortality, and grinding poverty.
Women do not automatically understand one another or treat one another well
just because they are women; barriers of race, class, and culture can, depending on the
meaning they are given, prove insurmountable. Idella Parker, the African American
woman that European American novelist Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings (1896–1953)
called her “perfect maid,” wrote later of the difficulties of this relationship. The two
women were together in their maid–mistress relationship for many years. Parker may
have been Rawlings’s best and most loyal friend. At any rate, she was very fond of Raw-
lings, rescued her from many disastrous situations involving alcohol, and protected
her reputation for years. Rawlings, for her part, often treated Parker more as a friend
and confidante than a servant, and provided her with resources that were unusually
generous. Yet, under the influence of racist attitudes, the power relationship between
the two women was such that Parker finally had to leave. She was never allowed to
sleep in Rawlings’s house. (Neither was any other Black woman. On one occasion,
Parker was forced to share her own bed with the famous African American writer Zora
Neale Hurston, who was visiting Rawlings.) She was expected to place Rawlings’s
needs first under all circumstances. The scenario, with its complex mix of affection
and subordination, is reminiscent of what used to be thought of as the ideal marriage
relationship between a man and a woman: the wife protecting and supporting the hus-
Lips 4E.book Page xv Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
Preface xv
band at all costs, he controlling the agenda and rewarding her with extra privileges. We
can learn something from this parallel: Where the subordination of women is con-
cerned, men do not always stand alone as villains. Women, like men, have a lot to learn
about other women.
Chapter 1 explores the reasons for taking a global, multicultural approach to the
psychology of women. In Chapter 2 we apply this approach to the beliefs and findings
about female–male differences around the world. Having examined the general frame-
work, we turn in Chapters 3 and 4 to specific questions of how girls are socialized
through childhood and adolescence: How are they taught to feel about their bodies,
and what expectations are they led to develop about their identities, abilities, and
accomplishments? Chapters 5, 6, and 7 focus on how these early messages are trans-
lated into later behavior in three areas: assertiveness and interpersonal power, commu-
nication, and the formation of close relationships. Chapter 8 connects these issues to
the workplace and explores the research on equity and fairness with respect to
women’s employment. The social conditions and relationships that make up women’s
lives have an impact on their well-being; thus Chapters 9 and 10 examine physical and
mental health. Chapter 11 looks at ways in which all of these issues develop and
change for women as they make transitions from young adulthood to middle and old
age. The last three chapters deal with particular topics that both strongly reflect and
strongly affect women’s experience in every culture: sexuality, violence against women,
and power. Each chapter includes learning activities, suggestions for making social
change, discussion questions, a list of key terms, suggestions for additional reading
and Web resources. In addition, to show the diversity of perspectives that has con-
structed our understanding of women’s psychology, each chapter includes a profile of
a woman who helped shape psychology.
In this, the fourth edition, I have updated the statistics in many areas, from health
care to divorce, from violence against women to women in political leadership, from
poverty to occupational segregation. I have added coverage of new research on stereo-
typing and discrimination, theories of gender development, women’s attitudes toward
their bodies, their academic self-views and cognitive performance, use of social media,
media portrayals of girls and women, father–daughter relationships, gender and
expectations about career, earnings, and family, occupational gender segregation,
workplace discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, gender differences in cop-
ing with stress, pregnancy- and motherhood-based discrimination, women’s health,
attitudes toward contraception and abortion, violence within intimate partnerships,
and the ways the tentacles of that violence can reach into the workplace.
There is a new material on the situation of women around the world: drops in
labor-force participation by women in India, China, and Eastern Europe, women’s
unpaid work in many countries, occupational gender discrimination in Iran and in
China, the evolving situation with respect to dowry deaths in India, discrimination
against female faculty in U.S. business schools, changes in expectations about power
within marriage in Singapore, discussion of veiling, information about female genital
mutilation in some regions of the world, changes in the legal status of same-sex mar-
riage in the United States and elsewhere, sexual harassment in schools in many coun-
Lips 4E.book Page xvi Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
xvi Preface
tries, street harassment as a global problem, experiments with the use of restorative
justice for sexual assault cases in the United States, women’s leadership and political
participation around the world, the use of paternity leave in Denmark and Finland, the
progress of Korean women in the political arena, rising lung cancer rates among women
in many countries, the effectiveness of special sexual assault courts in South Africa, the
acceptance of women’s rights as human rights in various countries under CEDAW.
Discussions of diversity within North America have been expanded as well: iden-
tity issues for cultural and sexual minorities, coming-of-age issues for Latina women,
body image among women of different groups, issues of identity and the sense of self
among Caribbean-Canadian women and young African American single mothers, the
visibility and portrayal of women of different ethnic and cultural groups on television,
the gap in breast cancer survival rates between African American and European Amer-
ican women, the experience of the “empty nest” among Canadian parents of different
ethnic backgrounds, the stereotypic themes of femininity recognized by young African
American women within Hip Hop culture. My ability to include such material has
been enhanced by an increased focus on diversity among researchers and a growing
sense among many writers and scholars that the world is an interdependent commu-
nity—and that what happens anywhere is likely to be relevant to many of us.
I have many people to thank for help and support with this book. Radford Univer-
sity granted me a professional development leave many years ago when the first edition
of this book was in its formative stages. During that precious year, Ellen Kimmel found
me a home for one semester in the Department of Psychological and Social Founda-
tions of Education at the University of Southern Florida. She and her colleagues sup-
ported and encouraged me as I shaped this project and others. I am grateful especially
to Ellen and to Nancy Greenman at USF for their support, encouragement, and will-
ingness to discuss ideas about gender and culture during the time I spent in Tampa. I
am also grateful to Mirta González Suárez, who facilitated my stay as a Visiting Scholar
at the University of Costa Rica. She and her colleagues did their best to expose me to a
variety of international perspectives on women and feminism during my one-semester
stay there. My year ended with a one-month stay in China, where Zhang Kan and Gu
Hongbin of the Institute for Psychology of the Chinese Academy of Sciences went far
out of their way to help me learn about China and to understand some of the issues
facing women in that country.
Many thanks are due to the reviewers, who helped me see some of my own biases,
made helpful suggestions about material to include, and generally encouraged me to
make this the best book possible. My thanks go out to these reviewers, who provided
feedback and suggestions for one or more editions of this book: Shawn Meghan Burn,
Myra Heinrich, Paulette J. Leonard, Laura Madson, Shirley M. Ogletree, Joan S. Rabin,
Vicki Ritts, Midge Wilson, Mary Wyly, Carolyn Zerbe Enns, Carla Golden, Veanne
Anderson, Dorothy Bianco, Joanne Marrow, Carole R. Beal, Joan C. Chrisler, Betty J.
Don, Sandra R. Fiske, and Carole A. Lawton.
The first edition of this book was developed under the guidance of sponsoring
editor Franklin Graham at Mayfield Publishers, and I remain enormously grateful to
him for his encouragement and support of this project over many years as it first took
Lips 4E.book Page 10 Monday, March 28, 2016 12:18 PM
10 Chapter One
consistently, dress in the clothing of the other gender: drag queens, drag kings, people
who adopt the clothing of the other gender for comfort, disguise, or entertainment. A
fascination with the theme of cross-dressing has been apparent in stage (Shakespeare’s
As You Like it, Thomas’s classic Charley’s Aunt), screen (Tootsie, Victor/Victoria, Yentl,
Some Like It Hot, The Ballad of Little Jo, Mrs. Doubtfire, The Crying Game, The Bird-
cage, Priscilla Queen of the Desert, Flawless) and literature (Virginia Woolf ’s Orlando
and David Henry Hwang’s M. Butterfly). However, the act of dressing as a member of
the other sex has usually been treated as an aberration, a trick, or a joke. Western
industrial societies have traditionally refused to accept or institutionalize a third-gen-
der category whose existence threatens the ability to categorize every person as female
or male. That refusal, however, is beginning to change.
Transgender persons, whose gender identity or gender expression is different
from the identity they were assigned at birth, are becoming less invisible in many cul-
tures. In Nepal, a 2007 court decision established a third-gender category for people
who do not identify themselves as female or male. That category is the one listed on
their identity cards—and can be self-determined by any individual who does not feel
she/he “fits” the female or male category. India began issuing passports under a third-
gender category, denoted by E (for eunuch) in 2005 and now allows citizen identity
cards listing gender as “transgender” to be issued. Both Australia and New Zealand
allow individuals to use “X” rather than “M” or “F” on passport applications. In these
and a few other countries, there is growing official acknowledgement that a two-gen-
der system excludes many individuals (Knight, 2012). Such recognition has been
pushed along, in some respects, by famous people who have publicly claimed a trans-
gender identity (e.g., Caitlin Jenner, Laverne Cox) and by sympathetic media portray-
als of either fictional transgender characters, as in the series Transparent, or actual
people, in reality shows such as I Am Jazz.
Actually, it is not necessary to cite a formally identified third (or fourth, or fifth)
gender to question the notion that gender is a neat dichotomy that places all of us into
one of two groups who either “act like women” or “act like men.” What does a woman
act like? Look like? Think like? For most people, the answers to those questions would
be: “It depends on what kind of woman she is.” Indeed, American researchers have
found that respondents differentiate among many different “types” of women, some
of whom appear to have little or nothing in common except for their biological sex.
For example, respondents in one U.S. study described several distinct clusters of
“types” of women: a progressive or nontraditional cluster, which included such types
as the feminist, the intellectual, the career woman; a traditional or conservative cluster,
which included types such as the housewife, the secretary, the conformist, and the
maternal woman; and a cluster characterized by sexuality, including the vamp, the sex
bomb, and the tart (Six & Eckes, 1991). To each different type of woman, respondents
attributed different personal and behavioral qualities. A later study showed that
respondents clustered women into six subgroups: professional, feminist, homemaker,
female athlete, beauty, and temptress—and that these groups were seen to be consider-
ably different on dimensions of virtue (morality and sexual conservatism) and agency
(competence and power) (DeWall, Altermatt, & Thompson, 2005).
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"Oh, yes," said May; "but I suppose I may look at that boy when I go to
the school for the singing!"
In a few days, Ralph received the following answer from Mr. Mordan:
"DEAR SIR,—"
"I remain,"
"Your obedient servant,"
"OLIVER MORDAN,
Senior."
And the advertisement in the Times was put in again and again, till it
had cost quite a little fortune, and yet it never was answered. Ruth and
Ollie seemed to be abandoned by all the world, except poor "crusty"
Ralph Trulock, who at first grudged every sixpence they cost him. But
Ruth had crept into his heart, and Ollie was such a bright, innocent,
creature—the more he saw of them, the more he loved them. And they
loved him, which was not wonderful, as every little pleasure they
enjoyed that summer came from him. The Sunday dinner party became
quite an institution: first came church, then dinner, then a long walk in
the Forest.
Ruth worked hard all the week, but as Ollie got his dinner at school, and
many a little present came from Ralph, she got on very well. Her black
calico wore out, and she did not replace it, but wore a coloured dress;
quietly remarking that "Father would not mind, because he knew she
loved him as well as ever." Ralph said something about her father "not
knowing," but Ruth, after a little distressed thought, smiled and
answered,—
"Would not the angels tell him? You know they come and go still, though
we cannot see them; and he would be sure to ask questions about Ollie
and me. They will have told him that although we could not find our
grandfather, God has given us a good friend."
The rector came home presently, and then Mr. Cloudesley had a
holiday, and went away for awhile. Mr. Barton had a great deal to do,
and was not a great visitor; and seeing Ralph in church every Sunday,
he was quite satisfied about him.
CHAPTER VII.
RALPH'S NURSE.
SO passed the summer months, and autumn, too, glided by swiftly. Yet,
in spite of all her hard work and all her care, Ruth had been obliged to
spend part of the money she had hoped to keep for winter use. Ollie
wanted shoes, and then she herself required a new pair; and though she
put off getting them as long as she could, she had to get them at last.
Mrs. Cricklade, too, who had at first refused to take rent from her, now,
seeing that Ralph Trulock had "taken them up," as she put it, made her
pay a shilling a week for her attic—though the old woman seemed half
ashamed of herself, too, for taking it. She advised Ruth to tell Mr.
Trulock, knowing that he could pay it. But Ruth never told him; she
thought it would be like asking for further help; and from his way of living
she believed him to be very poor, and therefore felt the more grateful to
him for the help he already gave her, particularly that fourpence a week
for Ollie. For of course Ollie soon discovered the truth about this
payment, and at once told Ruth.
So the few pounds she had had in store had begun to melt away; and
Ruth, to Ralph's dismay, began to look pale and thin. When really cold
weather came, he found that the girl never lighted her tiny fire until Ollie
was coming home from school; and though she was well and warmly
dressed, she seemed to suffer terribly from the cold.
Poor Ralph! he already spent upon these children more than the portion
of his savings which he had supposed would satisfy his conscience; and
yet his conscience was not satisfied, and his very heart ached for Ruth.
He thought of applying to the Cloudesleys for help for the children; but
Mr. Cloudesley had made it very plain that he considered the little
Garlands as being under Ralph's special care; besides, the Cloudesleys
were not rich, and he was ashamed to go to them after what had passed
between himself and May. The rector had been obliged to go abroad
again for the winter; there was no one to help the children but Ralph
himself.
Often, when Ruth tidied up his place on Sunday afternoon, while Ollie
chattered away to him, he thought how pleasant it would be to bring
them home to live with him. He had a right to have some one to keep
house for him, and could easily get leave to keep, Ollie; for, as I have
said, the rules at Lady Mabel's Rest were very few, and were framed for
the express purpose of making the inmates comfortable. But if he did
this, he must give up his idea of saving; and that meant that he must lie
under an obligation to Arnott and the rest for ever. Nay, that he must feel
grateful to them; for a feeling of fair dealing made him certain that if he
accepted the kindness, it would be his duty to be grateful. Grateful!
Thankful to Arnott and the rest for their charity! And all that he might
support a couple of children who had no claim upon him. No; he could
not and he would not, and that was the end of the matter. But the matter
would not be ended! Ralph could get no peace of mind, and he
sometimes almost hated sweet May Cloudesley for having said the
words which had caused him all this worry.
It was an early winter, and snow fell in October, which is not common
even in Fairford—though Fairford is a cold place. Ralph, stinting himself
more than ever in his vain attempt to walk two ways at once, found
himself one morning unable to rise from his bed. A sudden, severe
attack of rheumatism, such as he had suffered from once before, had
seized him, and there he lay, groaning and helpless. When the milk-boy
clattered his can against the hall door, Ralph succeeded in making him
hear his shouts; and desired him to tell the warden that he was ill, and
could not stir. But the boy, a lazy, stupid fellow, contented himself with
telling Mrs. Short, to whose house he went next. And Mrs. Short,
delighted at the opportunity of prying into Ralph's affairs, not only did not
tell any one else, but having eaten an excellent breakfast, went to pay a
visit to her sick neighbour.
Ralph's door was open, thanks to the milk-boy, and the keen frosty wind
rushing into the house made it very cold indeed. Mrs. Short shivered,
and almost thought she would turn back and send word to the warden;
but curiosity—no, no, not curiosity, for she murmured to herself, "I'm that
good-natured, I must see the poor feller—" prevailed, and shutting the
door, she went upstairs. Ralph had heard the sounds of her approach,
and was very glad to have his door shut, for the cold was excessive. But
when at the door of his bare little room appeared the squat form and
round face of his inquisitive neighbour, the old man positively groaned.
For her part, Mrs. Short no sooner saw how ill he looked, than she
squeaked dismally, and exclaimed:
"For my sake, Mr. Trulock, don't tell me you've got anything infectagious!
Seeing your door wide open, and no signs of you about, I made bold to
come and see if you was poorly; for as my poor Matthew, that's dead
and buried, poor man, used to say, I'm that good-natured that I always
want to know what's the matter with my neighbours, and what I can do
for 'em. But there, good-nater is one thing, and infectagious diseases is
another, and is my dread all my days. Can't you even speak? Oh la! I
doubt he's dying. Oh, Mr. Trulock, are you actially a-past speaking?"
"No!" thundered Ralph. "If you will give me time, Mrs. Short, I will speak,
never you fear."
Had Ralph been wary, he would have abstained from replying, and her
fears might have got the better of her "good-nater;" but he was in such
pain, and was besides so annoyed at her presence, that he incautiously
replied:
"Trouble! Did any one ever know Martha Short to name trouble when a
neighbour wanted her in his house? And what could Mr. Hingston do for
you; or the doctor either, honest man? Doctors ain't no use for
rheumatism, not a bit. Warmth and a good nuss—and you shall see
what a nuss my Matthew lost in me when he died!"
Ill as he was, Ralph was tickled by this very extraordinary notion, and
gave utterance to a short, cross-sounding laugh. Mrs. Short beamed
upon him.
"Why, there now! that's right, you're in better sperrits a'ready. Now I'll go
down and bring up some coal, and I'll light you a fire; and then I'll boil a
kettle and make you a stiff glass of punch, and you'll get a good heat
and be all right again before, night."
"Mrs. Short," said he, "I will not have a fire, thank you; and there are no
spirits in the house."
Mrs. Short had a store of spirits in her own house, and yet, strange to
say, her good-nature did not prompt her to offer him any.
"A cup of tea, then," said she, "that's next best;" and she bustled
downstairs before he could speak. What Ralph endured, lying there
helpless, and listening to that woman fussing about downstairs,
ransacking cupboards and tumbling out the contents of drawers—no
one will ever know. She brought up coal, in spite of him, and lighted a
blazing fire. Then she made some tea, and insisted upon his drinking it
too; nay, when she found that he could not hold the cup to his lips, she
actually fed him with it. It got very cold in the process, and was besides
so strong that it made him feverish. Then she piled more coal on the fire,
and went home to see after her dinner. She had never been silent all
this time for five seconds together, so her departure was a great relief.
It was on the third day of Ralph's illness that Ruth Garland, getting
alarmed about him, because it was so long since he had been to see
her, actually laid aside her work, put on her warm jacket, and ran down
the hill to Lady Mabel's Rest, to see after her kind friend. She met Mr.
Hingston, the warden, in the gate. Hingston knew her, having often seen
her with Ralph, and stopped to speak to her.
"Well, Miss Garland, I suppose you have come to inquire for Mr. Trulock.
He'll be all right again soon—Mrs. Short told me so last night."
"He has been very poorly, but Mrs. Short has been taking good care of
him, and he refused to see me or have the doctor."
"Well, knowing how fond the old man is of you and your little brother, I
wanted to let you know, but he sent me word not to do so, as he would
rather not have you coming to him. He said he wanted no one but Mrs.
Short."
"No one but Mrs. Short! Oh, Mr. Hingston, did you hear him say that?"
"No; I tell you, he won't see me. He is a very old fellow, you know."
Ruth was young, and out-spoken, as young people are apt to be.
"I don't believe he did say it," said she, "and I will see him;" and she
marched on towards his house.
Mrs. Short, who was on the watch, darted out upon her. Now I must
explain that Mrs. Short, for reasons which will soon become evident,
was rather weary of her self-imposed task, and therefore not sorry to
see Ruth, though for appearance sake she pounced upon her,
screaming—
"Stop, Ruth Golong!" For thus, and in no other fashion, did she
pronounce the name, declaring that she had it from Olivia before he
learned to say it in English. "You can't go to see Mr. Trulock; he's ill in
bed."
"Well, if he's angry, don't blame me, that's all. You'll find he has a fancy
in his head about you; I don't know where he got it from. I never
mentioned your name but once, to ask should I send for you; but you
mustn't mind that, sick folk has fancies. My Matthew, that's dead, was
full of 'em. Well, go if you will go. He's the miserablest old; there's not a
peck of coal nor a grain of tea nor anything whatever left in the house,
and he won't give me a penny to get things for him."
Ruth went on without replying; she opened the door and went in, turning
the key in the lock to keep Mrs. Short out. Her light step on the stairs
was heard by the poor old man, and it was with a look of hopeful
expectation that his stern old face was turned towards the door.
"Mr. Trulock! Oh, I would have been here before—I did not know that
you were ill. I am sure that woman told you that she had sent for me;
didn't she now?"
"She did; and that you would not come because you were very busy and
knew nothing of nursing; but I did not believe her, Ruth."
"Nor did I believe that you refused to see me, and the warden and the
doctor, but wished to have Mrs. Short and no one else! Oh, Mr. Trulock,
she's a dreadful woman."
"How did you get leave to come in, Ruth? I heard her voice outside."
"I did not ask leave. She said there was nothing left in the house; and
that you would not give her money to buy things for you. I suppose you
have no money just now; but never mind, I have some, you know."
"I succeeded then!" cried Ralph in triumph. "When I found that she
would come, and would not let any one else come, I made up my mind
to starve her out, and I have!"
"But you look as if you have starved yourself, too," answered Ruth,
looking anxiously at him.
"Now you will let me manage for you, won't you? Please do. I will go out
and get some things; and may I bring Ollie here when he comes home
from school, that he may not be lonely?"
"Certainly; and, Ruth, give me that box, and I will give you money to buy
what we want."
Ruth opened the box with a key which he gave her, and in it she saw a
sovereign and a few shillings. "Is this all you have?" she asked.
"All I have in the house," he answered, and did not perceive that she
understood him to mean that he had no more until his next payment
came in. He gave it all to her and said,—
Ruth ran home (Mrs. Short kept out of sight), and left a message for
Ollie; then, with her needlework in a basket, she went out again and
made several purchases for Ralph. Followed by a man with a cart, in
which a bag of coal and her little parcels made a rather poor show, she
returned to the Rest. She stopped at the gate to tell the warden that
there had been some mistake, and that she hoped the doctor would
come to see Mr. Trulock; and then she set to work in earnest. But how
different were her neat-handed, quiet proceedings, to Mrs. Short's
incessant fuss and chatter! Ralph fell asleep and dreamed that his Annie
had come back to him.
CHAPTER VIII.
MRS. CRICKLADE.
Once or twice, while he was still very ill, Ralph asked the child if his
money were not all gone; but until the day came round when the
pensions of the inmates of the Rest were paid, Ruth always said that
she had enough. If he had not been ill, and rather dull and sleepy, he
would have known that no money ever yet held out as this did, but he
was too stupid just then to reason. When the pensioners were paid, the
warden brought Ralph's to the house and paid him a visit, giving the
money into his own hand, as he was bound to do. And thus Ruth knew
nothing of the amount he received; but she took money from him next
day for his own use.
At last, he was really better, quite well, the doctor said, and only needing
to get up his strength again. The doctor desired him to take a glass of
"good sound wine" every day, for that he really required it. Ruth was
present when this was said, and the next day when she was going out to
the shops, she said,—
"Oh, Mr. Trulock! Could you not get even one bottle? Now it is because
you have helped us that you cannot afford it, and that makes me so
unhappy."
"No, Ruth; not for that reason, my dear. I—I have a claim upon my
income,—I am not free to spend it as I choose."
"Why, that's what father used to say!" cried Ruth wonderingly. "But, Mr.
Trulock, let me go to the doctor, or to Mr. Cloudesley; either of them
would help you."
"I cannot, Ruthie. I could not take charity, I am a proud man—I fear too
proud. Even now I would rather die than accept charity."
Ruth considered for a moment in her grave, childlike wisdom; and then
with her usual directness, she said,—
"I think we ought to take help, though, when we really want it. You know
the rich are told to help the poor, and so I suppose the poor ought to
take the help when they are willing to give it."
"I took your help," she answered simply; "but I know you didn't mean it in
that way. You mean that idle, extravagant poor people will get money,
and not work for themselves; but then it seems a pity that the good poor
people should not get some of it; don't you think so? Particularly when
they want it as badly as you do."
"I cannot do it, dear. I cannot explain why, but ought not to want help;
and I will not take it."
Ruth said no more, but tied on her hat and trotted off with her basket on
her arm. Once out of the house, she paused thoughtfully.
"I don't know what wine to get," she murmured, "nor what the price
ought to be, nor even where to get it. I must ask some one. Not Mrs.
Short—and Mrs. Cloudesley would offer to send him some. But I can go
to Miss Jones; she won't scold me, I hope, as she scolds poor Maria
Freak."
Maria Freak was Miss Jones's last new girl, and a few days ago she had
complained sorely to Ruth of her mistress's continual fault-finding. While
waiting at the door, Ruth heard voices, and could distinguish Miss
Jones's own monotonous thin tones, going on, and on, and on, in a very
exasperating style.
"Why don't you go to it, then? Don't I tell you often never to keep any
one waiting?"
"How could I go, and you jawing of me?" inquired Maria sulkily.
"Say ma'am, not miss, Maria,—and speaking, not jawing. You're the
most hopeless girl I ever trained yet. Go to the door, child."
"Is that you, Ruth Garland?" cried Maria. "And did you hear her? Did you
ever hear the like?"
Maria grinned. "Oh no—only when I do something she don't like. I used
to think I must run away home; but, bless you, she's real kind except
with her tongue. Was it to see me you came?"
"No; but because I want Miss Jones to help me. I want to know
something."
"She's your woman then, for she knows everything, and she'd go round
the gravel road of the Rest barefoot to help you, and scold all the time,
so that you'd think she hated you," replied Maria.
"Miss Jones," she called aloud, "Ruth Garland wants to speak to you."
"But you see, Ruth, the best wine in Fairford is to be had at Hawes's, of
the Blue Bear; and that is no place for a girl like you to go to alone."
Presently she appeared at his side with a glass of wine and a biscuit on
a little tray.
"Please, Mr. Trulock, wouldn't this be the best time to take your wine? I
bought three bottles, and that will last a long time. I used some of the
money I had been keeping up; and you know, sir, you have spent more
than that on us, and it would not be right that you should want this wine
while we have money lying by. So you must not be angry, please."
Ralph's face was worth looking at. Angry he was not; but he was both
touched and troubled.
"Oh, indeed, indeed I ought! What do I not owe to you, sir? If you only
knew how lonely and frightened I felt before I had you; and then you are
so poor, and yet you helped us!"
"Well, give me the wine, Ruthie; as to the money, I will settle that with
you when I am well again."
Ralph got better quickly now; but a fresh misfortune occurred before he
was quite well again. Ollie came from school one day, heavy and sick
(not to say cross); Ruth took him home to put him to bed, and ran down
to the Rest in the morning to say that "Ollie was out in measles."
"So I cannot come any more to you just now, sir; but what a comfort it is
that you are so nearly well! May I ask Miss Jones to come in and see
you? she would do your shopping for you."
"No, thank you, dear, I am quite able to get out now, and I shall soon be
creeping up the hill to see after you and Ollie. Has the doctor seen him
yet?"
"No; nor am I going to send for him. I had them myself last year, and
father never had a doctor to see me, because he said I was not bad,
and neither is Ollie. I must keep him warm and take good care of him."
She lingered for a minute. All her little store was gone, and attending on
Ralph had left her but little time for needlework. But she could not bring
herself to speak. He was old, and poor, and suffering, and how could
she ask him for money? It would have been like asking for the price of
the wine back again. So she went home, and, by Mrs. Cricklade's
advice, she took some of her father's clothes to a pawn-shop, and asked
the man there what he would give her for them. The pawnbroker was
very civil, and explained the system to her very clearly; but poor
innocent Ruth telling him her reason for wanting money, he made a
great favour of giving her a mere trifle for the good clothes, because he
said he must keep them separate, coming as they did from an infected
house. So with five shillings for her poor father's best suit, Ruth went
home, spending the greater part of it on the way; for she must have coal
to keep Ollie warm.
Ralph had hoped to see the children the next day, but it snowed, and he
was afraid to go so far. Then followed a sharp frost, and he was laid up
again for some days; so altogether some time had passed before he
succeeded in creeping up the hill as far as Mrs. Cricklade's shop. He
went early, and to his horror found the shop closed, and the neighbours
told him that they had not seen Mrs. Cricklade that morning.
"She was a sad drinker," the woman next door told him, "and lately she
has seldom been quite sober, and her bread is so bad that she has lost
all her custom; and often has she said to me that she'd run off in the
night before quarter-day came round again, for that she had nothing laid
by to pay her rent. And I asked her where she'd go, and she said she
didn't know, and didn't care. So yesterday the shop didn't open—that
was nothing new, for often it was closed for the best part of the day
lately—but I am surprised that she hasn't opened it yet; at least I should
be, only I am sure she has run off."
"And the children!" cried Ralph, turning pale. "Ruth and Ollie—where are
they?"
"Oh, she said they had a friend somewhere in Fairford that would take
them in, and you may be sure that she sent them off yesterday. Only the
boy was sick in bed, to be sure."
"I am their only friend here, and they did not come to me. Are you sure
Mrs. Cricklade is gone?"
"Indeed, sir, I am not sure of anything about her. She and I were friends
once, but of late 'twas borrow, borrow, with her, and I was obliged to
keep her at a distance. And then they had the measles, you know; that
is, Ollie had, and I didn't want my children to get them. I have not seen
Ruth, oh, I don't know when."
Ralph turned away in despair, and to his great delight he saw Mr. and
Mrs. Cloudesley coming down the street. May spied him instantly.
"Why, Mr. Trulock, I'm glad to see you so far from home, for I suppose
you are quite well again," she began blithely; but perceiving his troubled
looks, she said quickly, in quite a different tone:
"You had better go home, May, and we'll have our walk later. You've
never had measles, and I don't want you to catch them. And we may
have to get into this house."
May turned and went home at once, like the sensible little woman she
was, causing no delay by objecting.
"Who is the owner of the house?" Mr. Cloudesley asked the friendly
neighbour.
"I don't know, sir; but Mr. Gambit, he collects the rents."
"Gambit, who lives in Rest View Cottage? Then we had better go there
at once, Trulock. He may know all about it."
To Mr. Gambit they accordingly went, but he did not know all about it,
nor, in fact, did he know anything. But he had plenty to say, for all that.
"A drunken creature she was becoming, sir, and getting worse every
time I saw her. I daresay the people are right, and that she has run off.
Very likely she has murdered the poor children in her drunken fit, and
then just cut her stick."
Mr. Gambit was one of those people who like to anticipate the worst, in
order that no one may imagine them taken by surprise; but poor Ralph,
not being aware of this peculiarity, was horribly frightened.
Mr. Gambit came with them now, but before they reached the house a
messenger came after him, and he was obliged to run home again,
some one having called on business. Ralph and Mr. Cloudesley
returned to Hill Street, where they found a small crowd collected to stare
at the shutters of the little shop.
"Must you, sir?" said a man among the crowd; "rather you nor me, sir.
Once afore she didn't open, and we took fright and busted in, and how
she did jaw us, to be sure!"
"That must be borne," said Mr. Cloudesley. "We must see about the
children; but we had better knock first."
And knock they did, both loud and long, but no sound was heard in the
shut-up house. The party was now reinforced by a policeman, who
promptly climbed the next door neighbour's wall, dropped into the yard,
and presently opened the shop door.
"Come in, reverend sir, and you, Mr. Trulock," said he; and when they
had squeezed through the half-opened door, he shut it fast, to the
infinite disgust of the crowd.
"I have seen nobody, sir; there does not seem to be any one in the
house. I called up the stairs and got no answer. I hardly expect to find
the children here."
"My children!" cried Ralph, and rushed up the little creaking stairs with
all the speed of fear; his rheumatism actually frightened away for the
time. The others followed him as he went swiftly up to the attics. But he
reached the children's room first.
"Oh!" cried a small voice, "is that you, Mr. Trulock? Oh, thank God! I
have been praying so hard that it might be you ever since I heard the
knocking. Ruthie is here lying over me, and I can't get her to move. Oh,
do come and see what's the matter with Ruthie."
On the bed, his pretty face wild with fear, lay Ollie, and over him, face
downward, lay Ruth; and when Ralph lifted her, he thought for one
dreadful moment that she was dead. But Mr. Cloudesley saw that she
breathed, though faintly, and taking her from the old man, he carried her
to the window, which he opened wide.
"Water," said he. There was none in the room, but the policeman
tramped downstairs to get some. Ruth opened her eyes and saw Ralph
Trulock.
"No," she said, "I'm afraid it's true. Oh, poor thing, poor thing; it is too
dreadful!" And with a cry of horror she fainted again.
"What is it, Ollie?" asked Mr. Cloudesley, while he bathed the girl's face
and rubbed her hands—such poor little, thin, cold hands!
"I don't know, sir," Ollie said, dismally. "Ruth said she must go down
again, even if Mrs. Cricklade beat her, for we had nothing in the room,
not even water. And so she went, but in a moment she came running
back, and fell down on the bed, and never said a word until you came."
"Hours and hours!" said poor Ollie. It had not really been very long, but it
had truly seemed so to the terrified and helpless child. "I couldn't move,
because Ruth fell upon me; and oh, but I am hungry and thirsty, and
frightened too. Ruth was so dead, you know."
"Sit down on the bed, Trulock, and hold her in your arms—do. Let her
see only you and Ollie. Peters wants me to go with him, and he will find
out what frightened her. Here, Ollie, drink this water, and I will bring you
something better as soon as I can."
Peters, who had been standing at the door, beckoning incessantly for
Mr. Cloudesley to follow him, now led the way to the next floor. There,
on the narrow landing-stage, he stopped short.
"I don't wonder the child was scared well-nigh to death, sir," said he. "I
don't know yet whether it's 'visitation of Providence,' or 'feller-deasy,' but
whatever it is the old woman is lying dead in her bed!"
"Dead!" exclaimed Mr. Cloudesley. "The poor old creature! But are you
sure she is dead? Let us go and see, for we ought to send for the doctor
if not."
"It's the coroner she wants, poor soul, not the doctor," remarked Peters,
as he followed him into the room.
A moment's inspection satisfied Mr. Cloudesley that the poor old woman
was indeed dead, and had been dead for some hours. On a little table
near the bed lay a candlestick with a burned-out candle in it, a quart
bottle of whisky, nearly empty, and a breakfast-cup.
"Not intentional, but a case of murder, Peters, and there stands the
murderer," pointing to the bottle.
"True for you, reverend sir; and not the first murder he's committed—not
by many. Pity as he can't be hanged for it! But you see, sir, she is surely
dead; and I must lock the door now, and keep things as they are for the
coroner. If you'd take my advice, sir, you'd remove the children; the girl
will have to appear at the inquest, but she'd be best out of the house
now."
"You're quite right there, Peters, if she is fit to be moved, but such a
shock may have made her really ill. I can be of no use here, so I shall
leave you to do your duty, and see to the children. I must run first to the
Blue Bear, and beg for a little soup for the boy."
"Don't you let any one in, sir, and send some one to the station for the
sergeant, and I will keep the people out until you get the children off.
Any of the boys out there will run to the station for you."
Any of the boys! No, but all the boys; for when Mr. Cloudesley made it
plain that he really did not mean to admit any of them to the mysterious
house, the next best thing, in the estimation of the youth of Fairford, was
to run to the police station in a long, straggling, vociferating procession.
Every boy there had his own private theory as to what had happened,
and every boy roared out that theory at the policemen as loud as he
could yell. And consequently the whole available police force of Fairford
(consisting of two men, and the wife and baby of the absent Peters)
rushed up the hill to the scene of action, under the impression that Mrs.
Cricklade had poisoned Ruth and Oliver Garland, stuck a knife into old
Mr. Trulock and Peters the policeman, and driven Mr. Cloudesley from
the house in terror of his life!
Meantime Mr. Cloudesley had procured a fine bowl of good soup from
good-natured Mrs. Hawes, and had returned to the children's attic. He
found Ruth much recovered, though still faint and weak. A few spoonfuls
of soup they persuaded her to swallow, but she shivered and seemed
hardly able to do so. What did her far more good was to watch Ollie—
who was quite "over" the measles, and very hungry—absorbing the
good soup with much satisfaction.
"Come here, Trulock; I want a word with you. Ruth will sit there and
watch her big baby. Trulock, the poor child has had a terrible shock. Mrs.
Cricklade is dead, must have died some hours ago, and Ruth must have
gone to her room, and found her lying there. Peters says that Ruth will
be better out of the house until the inquest, for everybody would be
questioning her. What shall we do with the children?"
"I will take them home, sir. Ollie has been telling me that they have been
in sore want. I didn't know it, you may be sure, but I am to blame all the
same. The poor child, sir, she has had no work, for of course they
couldn't employ her while the boy had measles; and I thought she had
money laid by, but it seems it had been spent by degrees. Any way, I'll
take them home for the present."
"Very good. Then I will go to the Cottage Hospital, and ask Mrs. Francis
if we can have their old cab; and if so, I will bring it to the door at once.
Ollie ought to be well wrapped up. Have him ready, for we shall not be
able to keep the neighbours out much longer. And don't ask Ruth any
questions as yet; let her tell you of herself. Don't let Mrs. Short get at
her, Trulock," added Mr. Cloudesley with a smile.