I was never here.

A check I thought. A check would stop it all. I walked outside and down the stairs and glanced around the crowded street of London. I noticed a man standing quietly with a tin cup as he leaned against the dirty brick building.

I decided that he would be my way out. I walked across the street, holding my head high so that my feathers were not to fall out of my hair. I walked up to the dirty poor man and motioned for him to stand and look at me. He seemed to start to shake as I looked him up and down and took a step back as I breathed the foul odor that was protruding from him. “I assume you need money.”, I said, pulling off my white gloves, “ Based off the state of your attire and the gleam of hope in your eyes I am sure you are in desperate need of it.”

The man stared at me and looked at his feet as he quietly nodded and said “Yes, mum.”

“Good. Follow me, and I will write you a check that will ensure that you will be well taken care off.” I said as I grabbed a portion of my red flowing skirt to place it behind me and started to walk back across the crowded carriage filled street.

As I glanced back, the man had not moved. “Come along.” I said and continued on my path towards the house in which I had come from. The man followed behind. Slowly staring at me and slightly dragging his feet with every step. He probably had not eaten in several days.

We made our way up the steps and into the home of Walter Peyton. I glanced back with poise to the notion that the man should continue to follow me. The house was as still as it was how I left it. We made our way up the spiral staircase to the main study. As I arrived at the door of the study I turned slightly around and stared at the man as he trudged up the long path of stairs.

“Inside this door is a man. I will need you to take care of him. Do you understand?”

At this he looked perplexed, as if I was no longer speaking English. Poor man. He had no idea what I was about to do to him. I was about to end his freedom and damn him from society. I pulled my little black book out from the pocket of my skirts and looked back down at the man.

“I assume that twenty thousand pounds will suffice.”

Twenty thousand pounds was more than enough money for him. This money could have him buy three houses, five carriages, and will be able to support a family for the rest of his life. He could live rich and lavishly. Well, at least for a time.

I wrote the amount down in the book and tore it from it’s seams, handing it to him. He stared at the check in his hand, in a state of shock.

“Now go along. Get the job done. Meet me on the corner of Wellington and Barnet when you are finished.”

I walked passed by the dirty man and swiftly walked down the staircase. As I looked up behind me, I felt sorrow for the man. For only a moment I felt like a terrible person, but I knew that this had to be done. Nobody could ever know what had happened between Walter and I that day. Now nobody will.