LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

language.”

      “Oh, it was German, then? Don’t interrupt me. Indeed, let me take the occasion to impress upon you that you have this great fault of manners, – a fault I have remarked prevalent among Irishmen, and which renders them excessively troublesome in the House, and brings them frequently under the reproof of the Speaker. If you read the newspapers, you will have seen this yourself.”

      Second to a censure of himself, the severest thing for poor Tony to endure was any sneer at his countrymen; but he made a great effort to remain patient, and did not utter a word.

      “Mind,” resumed the Minister, “don’t misunderstand me. I do not say that your countrymen are deficient in quickness and a certain ready-witted way of meeting emergencies. Yes, they have that as well as some other qualities of the same order; but these things won’t make statesmen. This was an old battle-ground between your father and myself thirty years ago. Strange to think I should have to fight over the same question with his son now.”

      Tony did not exactly perceive what was his share in the conflict, but he still kept silence.

      “Your father was a clever fellow, too, and he had a brother, – a much cleverer, by the way; there ‘s the man to serve you, – Sir Omerod Butler. He ‘s alive, I know, for I saw his pension certificate not a week ago. Have you written to him?”

      “No, sir. My father and my uncle were not on speaking terms for years, and it is not likely I would appeal to Sir Omerod for assistance.”

      “The quarrel, or coolness, or whatever it was, might have been the fault of your father.”

      “No, sir, it was not.”

      “Well, with that I have no concern. All that I know is, your uncle is a man of a certain influence – at least with his own party – which is not ours. He is, besides, rich; an old bachelor, too, if I ‘m not mistaken; and so it might be worth the while of a young fellow who has his way to make in life, to compromise a little of his family pride.”

      “I don’t think so: I won’t do it,” broke in Tony, hotly. “If you have no other counsel to give me than one you never would have given to my father, all I have to say is, I wish I had spared myself the trouble, and my poor mother the cost of this journey.”

      If the great man’s wrath was moved by the insolent boldness of the first part of this speech, the vibrating voice and the emotion that accompanied the last words touched him, and, going over to where the young man stood, he laid his hand kindly on his shoulder, and said: “You’ll have to keep this warm temper of yours in more subjection, Butler, if you want to get on in life. The advice I gave you was very worldly, perhaps; but when you live to be my age, such will be the temper in which you’ll come to consider most things. And, after all,” said he, with a smile, “you ‘re only the more like your father for it! Go away now; look up your decimals, your school classics, and such like, to be ready for the Civil Service people, and come back here in a week or so, – let Darner know where to find you,” were the last words, as Tony retired and left the room.

      “Well, what success?” cried Darner, as Tony entered his room.

      “I can scarcely tell you, but this is what took place;” and he recounted, as well as memory would serve him, all that had happened.

      “Then it’s all right, – you are quite safe,” said Darner.

      “I don’t see that, particularly as there remains this examination.”

      “Humbug, – nothing but humbug! They only pluck the ‘swells,’ the fellows who have taken a double-first at Oxford. No, no; you ‘re as safe as a church; you ‘ll get – let me see what it will be – you’ll get the Postmaster-ship of the Bahamas; or be Deputy Coal-meter at St. Helena; or who knows if he’ll not give you that thing he exchanged for t’other day with F. O. It’s a Consul’s place, at Trincolopolis. It was Cole of the Blues had it, and he died; and there are four widows of his now claiming the pension. Yes, that’s where you ‘ll go, rely on’t. There ‘s the bell again. Write your address large, very large, on that sheet of paper, and I ‘ll send you word when there ‘s anything up.”

      CHAPTER VI. DOLLY STEWART

      Tony’s first care, when he got back to his hotel, was to write to his mother. He knew how great her impatience would be to hear of him, and it was a sort of comfort to himself, in his loneliness, to sit down and pour out his hopes and his anxieties before one who loved him. He told her of his meeting with the Minister, and, by way of encouragement, mentioned what Damer had pronounced upon that event. Nor did he forget to say how grateful he felt to Damer, who, “after all, with his fine-gentleman airs and graces, might readily have turned a cold shoulder to a rough-looking fellow like me.”

      Poor Tony! in his friendlessness he was very grateful for very little. Nor is there anything which is more characteristic of destitution than this sentiment. It is as with the schoolboy, who deems himself rich with a half-crown!

      Tony would have liked much to make some inquiry about the family at the Abbey; whether any one had come to ask after or look for him; whether Mrs. Trafford had sent down any books for his mother’s reading, or any fresh flowers, – the only present which the widow could be persuaded to accept; but he was afraid to touch on a theme that had so many painful memories to himself. Ah, what happy days he had passed there! What a bright dream it all appeared now to look back on! The long rides along the shore, with Alice for his companion, more free to talk with him, less reserved than Isabella; and who could, on the pretext of her own experiences of life, – she was a widow of two-and-twenty, – caution him against so many pitfalls, and guard him against so many deceits of the world. It was in this same quality of widow, too, that she could go out to sail with him alone, making long excursions along the coast, diving into bays, and landing on strange islands, giving them curious names as they went, and fancying that they were new voyagers on unknown seas.

      Were such days ever to come back again? No, he knew they could not They never do come back, even to the luckiest of us; and how far less would be our enjoyment of them if we but knew that each fleeting moment could never be re-acted! “I wonder, is Alice lonely? Does she miss me? Isabella will not care so much. She has books and her drawing, and she is so self-dependent; but Alice, whose cry was, ‘Where ‘s Tony?’ till it became a jest against her in the house. Oh, if she but knew how I envy the dog that lies at her feet, and that can look up into her soft blue eyes, and wonder what she is thinking of! Well, Alice, it has come at last. Here is the day you so long predicted. I have set out to seek my fortune; but where is the high heart and the bold spirit you promised me? I have no doubt,” cried he, as he paced his room impatiently, “there are plenty who would say, it is the life of luxurious indolence and splendor that I am sorrowing after; that it is to be a fancied great man, – to have horses to ride, and servants to wait on me, and my every wish gratified, – it is all this I am regretting. But I know better! I ‘d be as poor as ever I was, and consent never to be better, if she ‘d just let me see her, and be with her, and love her, to my own heart, without ever telling her. And now the day has come that makes all these bygones!”

      It was with a choking feeling in his throat, almost hysterical, that he went downstairs and into the street to try and walk off his gloomy humor. The great city was now before him, – a very wide and a very noisy world, – with abundance to interest and attract him, had his mind been less intent on his own future fortunes; but he felt that every hour he was away from his poor mother was a pang, and every shilling he should spend would be a privation to her. Heaven only could tell by what thrift and care and time she had laid by the few pounds he had carried away to pay his journey! As his eye fell upon the tempting objects of the shop-windows, every moment displaying something he would like to have brought back to her, – that nice warm shawl, that pretty clock for her mantelpiece, that little vase for her flowers; how he despised himself for his poverty, and how meanly the thought of a condition that made him a burden where he ought to have been a benefit! Nor was the thought the less bitter that it reminded him of the wide space that separated him from her he had dared to love! “It comes to this,” cried he bitterly to himself, “that I have no right to be here; no right to do anything, or think of anything that I have done. Of the thousands

Скачать книгу