London's Heart: A NovelFarjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
General
London's Heart: A Novel
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
London (England) -- Fiction
appeals were made to my purse to supply the means of living. I gave
and gave; spoke to your father again and again; appealed to his self
respect, to his feelings of honour; and received in return--_promises_
of amendment, promises of amendment, promises forgotten as soon as
each temporary want was provided for. Shall I tell you more? Shall I
tell you that, so low did drink and gambling bring him, he raised his
hand against his wife----"
"No, no, sir!" cried Alfred, with a beating heart.
"It is true," said the old man sternly; "it is true, and it must be
told. He raised his hand against the wife who had loved him and been
faithful to him. And yet there was a time when he would have been as
shocked as you are now, had such an accusation been made against him;
but he was weak and easily misled; unstable as water, as Reuben was;
selfish in his desires and pleasures; with no gratitude for love; with
no thought that life has solemn duties, and that there is in it
something purer, brighter, sweeter, than the false glitter that
attracts weak minds; therefore he wrecked his life and broke your
mother's heart--your mother, whose sufferings you can imagine when I
tell you that she was once as trustful as Lily, as tender as Lily! You
were born; Lily was born. The downward course went on, and he and all
of you sank into deeper misery, deeper shame, until I thought the
worst had been reached. But I was mistaken."
The old man paused, reluctant to proceed; but Alfred said,
"Go on, sir; I must hear all now."
"It is right that you should. You will understand how, under these
miserable influences, your mother's nature changed; how gradually,
from a light-hearted trustful girl, she became a hopeless despairing
woman. I gave up my house, and came to live with her. Your father was
away sometimes for days together, and your mother had no dependence
but me. One night late, long after we had retired, your father came
home without warning. He stole into my room stealthily, and roused me.
He had been in hiding for weeks; the police were after him, and were
hunting him down; a warrant was out for him. He told me the shameful
tale. I knew that he was a drunkard and a gambler, but I did not know
before that night that he was a thief!"
Alfred sank on his knees in uncontrollable agitation, and hid his face
in his hands.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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