The Lighted WayOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
The Lighted Way
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Detective and mystery stories
"Very well, then," he replied. "My father was a clergyman, his
family was good. He and I lived almost alone. He had an income and
his stipend, but he was ambitious for me, and, by some means or
other, while I was away he was led to invest all his money with one
of these wretched bucket-shop companies. A telegram fetched me home
unexpectedly just as I was entering for my degree. I found my father
seriously ill and almost broken-hearted. I stayed with him, and in a
fortnight he died. There was just enough--barely enough--to pay what
he owed, and nothing left of his small fortune. His brother, my
uncle, came down to the funeral, and I regret to say that even then
I quarreled with him. He made use of language concerning my father
and his folly which I could not tolerate. My father was very simple
and very credulous and very honorable. He was just the sort of man
who becomes the prey of these wretched circular-mongering sharks.
What he did, he did for my sake. My uncle spoke of him with
contempt, spoke as though he were charged with the care of me
through my father's foolishness. I am afraid I made no allowance for
my uncle's peculiar temperament. The moment the funeral was over, I
turned him out of the house. I have no other relatives. I came to
London sooner than remain down in the country and be found a
position out of charity, which is, I suppose, what would have
happened. I took a room and looked for work. Naturally, I was glad
to get anything. I used to make about forty calls a day, till I
called at your husband's office in Tooley Street and got a
situation."
She nodded.
"I thought it was something like that," she remarked. "Supposing I
had not happened to discover you, I wonder how long you would have
gone on?"
"Not much longer," he admitted. "To tell you the truth, I should
have enlisted but for that poor little girl whom I brought down with
me this afternoon."
His tone had softened. There was the slightest trace of a frown upon
her face as she looked along the riverside.
"But tell me," she asked, "what is your connection with her?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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