I was alone. Both my _fiancée_ and the aunt with whom she lived in a
boarding-house in Woburn Place had gone down to Guildford to attend the
funeral of a friend of the family--a Mrs Merridew; and as I had known
the deceased lady by name only, my own attendance had not been
considered necessary. So until lunch-time, when I had an engagement, I
was taking my stroll, with a particular eye to the smaller of the houses
I passed, and many conjectures about the rent of them.
You will remember, if you happen to know that north-western part of
London, that away across the Heath, on the Highgate side, there stands
up among the trees a lordly turreted place, the abode (I believe it then
was) of some merchant prince or other. My eyes had wandered frequently
to this great house, but I had lost it again as I had descended to the
pond with the swans upon it, and approached the tea-garden that, with
its swings and automatic machines, makes a sort of miniature standing
Bank Holiday all the year round. During the whole of a youth and early
manhood of extraordinary hardship (I was now nearing thirty-five) I had
been consumed with a violent but ineffectual ambition, of which those
distant turrets now reminded me.... I had been hideously poor, but,
heaven be thanked, I had managed to get my head above water at last.
Those horrible days were over, or nearly so. I had now, for example, a
banking account; and though I seldom risked drawing a cheque for more
than two pounds without first performing quite an intricate little sum,
the data for which were furnished by my cheque, pass and paying-in books
respectively, still--I had a banking account. I had also good boots, two
fairish suits of clothes (though no evening clothes), an umbrella, a
watch, and other possessions that, three or four years before, had
seemed beyond dreams unattainable.
And when I say that I had for long been ragingly ambitious, I do not
merely mean that I had constantly thought how fine it would be could I
wake up one morning and find myself rich and powerful and respected.
Had that been the whole of it, I don't think I should have differed
greatly from the costers and showmen who dotted the Heath that
Whit-Sunday morning. No; the point rather was, that I saw in the main
how I was going to get what I wanted. I, or rather my coadjutor "Judy"
Pepper and I between us, had ideas that we intended to "play" as one
plays a hand at cards. Therefore, as I walked, I dare say I thought as
much about that distant castellated house as I did about the far humbler
abode I intended to take the moment I could find a suitable one.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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