Bildungsromans; Fathers and sons -- Fiction; First loves -- Fiction; Ireland -- Fiction
Next morning I got a rowing up from my father. Indeed, as soon as I
saw my face in the glass, I knew it would be quite useless to try to
hide what had happened, and I told him frankly I had been fighting.
Fortunately, it was not necessary for me to say anything about our
club, nor did I even mention Sam’s name. I simply told him that the
fight had taken place at night to prevent its being stopped, and
after that held my peace. My main feeling, in spite of my father’s
lecture, was that I was extraordinarily glad it _had_ taken place, for
I had come out of it victorious, even though I was pretty sure I had
received more punishment than I had given. My state of mind absurdly
resembled that of a young cock who gets up on a wall to crow, and
nothing my father could say had the least power to damp my spirits. My
face――especially all round my forehead and temples――was beautifully and
variously marked, yet there was nothing I more ardently desired than
that Katherine should see me in this condition. I even felt amicably
disposed towards Gerald, who, after all, couldn’t help being a coward.
Perhaps he would come round this morning to see how I had fared.
But nobody came, and in the afternoon I determined to go up to
Derryaghy. Willie Breen, who now regarded me in the light of a hero,
accompanied me. When I left him at the lodge-gate, instead of going to
the hall-door, I went round to the back of the house, hoping to find
Katherine on the terrace. She was not there; nobody was there but Miss
Dick, who cried out at once on seeing my battered condition. Her tone
was certainly far enough removed from that of Willie Breen to have
cooled my conceit had such a thing been possible, but fortunately she
was too much occupied with a letter she kept folding and unfolding to
bestow any very lengthy attention on my appearance. “My sister, Mrs.
Arthur Jenkins,” she began, not because I was worthy of her confidence,
but because there was nobody else, “wants me to go and stay with her. I
don’t know what to do. Mrs. Carroll may not be able to spare me; though
I haven’t been there for a long time.”
“Oh, you ought to go,” I said easily. “Where is everybody?” I looked
round, preparatory to making my escape. Miss Dick regarded me
doubtfully.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account