The Rainbow

They had walked till they had reached a wharf, just above a

lock. There an empty barge, painted with a red and yellow cabin

hood, but with a long, coal-black hold, was lying moored. A man,

lean and grimy, was sitting on a box against the cabin-side by

the door, smoking, and nursing a baby that was wrapped in a drab

shawl, and looking into the glow of evening. A woman bustled

out, sent a pail dashing into the canal, drew her water, and

bustled in again. Children's voices were heard. A thin blue

smoke ascended from the cabin chimney, there was a smell of

cooking.

Ursula, white as a moth, lingered to look. Skrebensky

lingered by her. The man glanced up.

"Good evening," he called, half impudent, half attracted. He

had blue eyes which glanced impudently from his grimy face.

"Good evening," said Ursula, delighted. "Isn't it

nice now?"

"Ay," said the man, "very nice."

His mouth was red under his ragged, sandy moustache. His

teeth were white as he laughed.

"Oh, but--" stammered Ursula, laughing, "it is. Why do

you say it as if it weren't?"

"'Appen for them as is childt-nursin' it's none so rosy."

"May I look inside your barge?" asked Ursula.

"There's nobody'll stop you; you come if you like."

The barge lay at the opposite bank, at the wharf. It was the

Annabel, belonging to J. Ruth of Loughborough. The man

watched Ursula closely from his keen, twinkling eyes. His fair

hair was wispy on his grimed forehead. Two dirty children

appeared to see who was talking.

Ursula glanced at the great lock gates. They were shut, and

the water was sounding, spurting and trickling down in the gloom

beyond. On this side the bright water was almost to the top of

the gate. She went boldly across, and round to the wharf.

Stooping from the bank, she peeped into the cabin, where was

a red glow of fire and the shadowy figure of a woman. She did

want to go down.

"You'll mess your frock," said the man, warningly.

"I'll be careful," she answered. "May I come?"

"Ay, come if you like."

She gathered her skirts, lowered her foot to the side of the

boat, and leapt down, laughing. Coal-dust flew up.

The woman came to the door. She was plump and sandy-haired,

young, with an odd, stubby nose.

"Oh, you will make a mess of yourself," she cried,

surprised and laughing with a little wonder.

"I did want to see. Isn't it lovely living on a barge?" asked

Ursula.

"I don't live on one altogether," said the woman

cheerfully.

"She's got her parlour an' her plush suite in Loughborough,"

said her husband with just pride.

Ursula peeped into the cabin, where saucepans were boiling

and some dishes were on the table. It was very hot. Then she

came out again. The man was talking to the baby. It was a

blue-eyed, fresh-faced thing with floss of red-gold hair.