David Harum: A Story of American Life — John Shaqi
David Harum: A Story of American LifeWestcott, Edward Noyes
General
David Harum: A Story of American Life
Westcott, Edward Noyes
Bankers -- Fiction; New York (State) -- Fiction
John was set down at Thirty-third Street, and, as he made his adieus,
Mrs. Carling said, "Do come and see us as soon as you can, Mr. Lenox";
but Miss Blake simply said "Good-by" as she gave him her hand for an
instant, and he went on to his father's house.
He let himself in with the latch-key which he had carried through all
his absence, but was at once encountered by Jeffrey, who, with his wife,
had for years constituted the domestic staff of the Lenox household.
"Well, Jeff," said John, as he shook hands heartily with the old
servant, "how are you? and how is Ann? You don't look a day older, and
the climate seems to agree with you, eh?"
"You're welcome home, Mr. John," replied Jeffrey, "and thank you, sir.
Me and Ann is very well, sir. It's a pleasure to see you again and home.
It is, indeed."
"Thank you, Jeff," said John. "It's rather nice to be back. Is my room
ready?"
"Yes, sir," said Jeffrey, "I think it's all right, though we thought
that maybe it 'd be later in the day when you got here, sir. We thought
maybe you'd go to Mr. Lenox's office first."
"I did intend to," said John, mounting the stairs, followed by Jeffrey
with his bag, "but I had a chance to drive up with some friends, and the
day is so beastly that I took advantage of it. How is my father?" he
asked after entering the chamber, which struck him as being so strangely
familiar and so familiarly strange.
"Well, sir," said Jeffrey, "he's much about the same most ways, and then
again he's different, too. Seeing him every day, perhaps I wouldn't
notice so much; but if I was to say that he's kind of quieter, perhaps
that'd be what I mean, sir."
"Well," said John, smiling, "my father was about the quietest person I
ever knew, and if he's grown more so--what do you mean?"
"Well, sir," replied the man, "I notice at table, sir, for one thing.
We've been alone here off and on a good bit, sir, and he used always to
have a pleasant word or two to say to me, and may be to ask me questions
and that, sir; but for a long time lately he hardly seems to notice me.
Of course, there ain't any need of his saying anything, because I know
all he wants, seeing I've waited on him so long, but it's different in a
way, sir."
"Does he go out in the evening to his club?" asked John.
"Very rarely, sir," said Jeffrey. "He mostly goes to his room after
dinner, an' oftentimes I hear him walking up an' down, up an' down, and,
sir," he added, "you know he often used to have some of his friends to
dine with him, and that ain't happened in, I should guess, for a year."
"Have things gone wrong with him in any way?" said John, a sudden
anxiety overcoming some reluctance to question a servant on such a
subject.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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