Harry Joscelyn; vol. 1 of 3Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
Harry Joscelyn; vol. 1 of 3
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Families -- England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
“I would need to be,” said Harry, bitterly, and then he added, “I’ll say
goodbye to you now, Uncle Henry. Very likely I’ll never see you again. I
don’t know what I’m going to do, or where I may be going. You’ve always
been very kind to me; a fellow does not think anything of that at the
time--it seems all just a matter of course, you know. But I see now
you’ve always been very kind. I shall remember it as long as I live. I
said last night, he had never done anything for me, it was all Uncle
Henry. So it is, though I’m not sure that I ever thought of it before.”
Mr. Joscelyn smiled, but he was touched.
“Well, well, Harry,” he said; “that was natural; but now you show a very
nice feeling. And I always was glad to do what I could for you. As
schoolboys go you were not at all objectionable, and though you are a
little out of temper now things will come round. Put that in your
pocket. It’s only a trifle; but I daresay you may want some little
things, especially if you’re going abroad. That’s all. Let me hear how
you are going on from time to time. I shall always be glad to hear.”
And then he began to talk of the news, and what the Duke was going to do
in the prospect of a new election for the county. “If Lord Charles does
not get in, it will be ridiculous--worse than wrong, absurd, considering
the stake they have in the county.” But it may be supposed that, in the
present crisis of his affairs, Harry Joscelyn cared very little for Lord
Charles. He replied civilly to his uncle’s talk; but as a matter of fact
he was very anxious to see what was in the envelope which Mr. Joscelyn
had insisted he should put in his pocket. It was not likely it would be
anything of an exciting character; but yet there was no telling. When,
however, Uncle Henry was gone, and Harry was free to examine this
envelope, it proved to contain two crisp ten pound notes--no more. He
was very much disappointed at first, thinking (foolishly) that it might
even be the capital he wanted--the thousand pounds to set him up. But
after a while, and somewhat grudgingly, Harry allowed to himself that
it was kind. Sometimes there is more pleasure to be got out of twenty
pounds than out of a thousand. Uncle Henry meant it very kindly. The
young man’s heart was a little softened and warmed, almost against his
will, by the gift.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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