The Adventures of Harry Richmond — CompleteMeredith, George
General
The Adventures of Harry Richmond — Complete
Meredith, George
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction
I was by no means disconcerted at not seeing her immediately. Running
on from one street to another, I took the turnings with unhesitating
boldness, as if I had a destination in view. I must have been out near
an hour before I understood that Mrs. Waddy had eluded me; so I
resolved to enjoy the shop-windows with the luxurious freedom of one
whose speculations on those glorious things all up for show are no
longer distracted by the run of time and a nursemaid. Little more than
a glance was enough, now that I knew I could stay as long as I liked.
If I stopped at all, it was rather to exhibit the bravado of liberty
than to distinguish any particular shop with my preference: all were
equally beautiful; so were the carriages; so were the people. Ladies
frequently turned to look at me, perhaps because I had no covering on
my head; but they did not interest me in the least. I should have been
willing to ask them or any one where the Peerage lived, only my mind
was quite full, and I did not care. I felt sure that a great deal of
walking would ultimately bring me to St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey;
to anything else I was indifferent.
Toward sunset my frame was struck as with an arrow by the sensations of
hunger on passing a cook's-shop. I faltered along, hoping to reach a
second one, without knowing why I had dragged my limbs from the first.
There was a boy in ragged breeches, no taller than myself, standing
tiptoe by the window of a very large and brilliant pastry-cook's. He
persuaded me to go into the shop and ask for a cake. I thought it
perfectly natural to do so, being hungry; but when I reached the
counter and felt the size of the shop, I was abashed, and had to repeat
the nature of my petition twice to the young woman presiding there.
'Give you a cake, little boy?' she said. 'We don't give cakes, we sell
them.'
'Because I am hungry,' said I, pursuing my request.
Another young woman came, laughing and shaking lots of ringlets.
'Don't you see he's not a common boy? he doesn't whine,' she remarked,
and handed me a stale bun, saying, 'Here, Master Charles, and you
needn't say thank you.'
'My name is Harry Richmond, and I thank you very much,' I replied.
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account