Factories -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Love stories; Strikes and lockouts -- Fiction
Barney drove his spirited horses with perhaps less than his customary
dash, a chastened dignity taking the place of the exuberant confidence
which generally distinguished him. The bracing air, the rapid motion,
the feeling of controlling destiny that a man has when he is driving a
tandem, all failed to raise his spirits, as might have been
expected; for the very fact that he was driving alone emphasized his
disappointment, and made this world the hollow mockery it sometimes
seems to the most cheerful of us. Yet how often has it been said, in
varying forms, that the darkest hour is just before the dawn!--and how
often will men forget that simple nocturnal fact!--a defect of memory
the more remarkable in a person like Barney, who so frequently had
had opportunity, while on his way home from a post-midnight revel, of
verifying the phenomenon. Just when his despair was at its blackest--on
the fourth drive down the parade--he was amazed and delighted to see
Edna Sartwell coming down one of the side streets all alone. She had a
newspaper in her hand, and was looking anxiously, and, as Barney could
not fail to see, furtively, up and down the street, apparently expecting
to meet some one, yet fearing that her intention might be divined.
Barney understood the whole situation in a flash: she had been afraid to
write or had been prevented from writing, and had stolen alone from
the school in the hope of meeting him. Well, they all did it, so far as
Barney was concerned; and, in the glow of exultation that came over
him at this proof of success, and the assurance that, after all, his
luck--or whatever it was--had not deserted him, there was just a
faint, annoying tinge of regret that she was no more proof against
his fascinations than all the others had been. Man is but an uncertain
creature at best, and never knows just what he does want. A moment
before, it would have seemed to him that nothing on earth could have
given him greater pleasure than a sight of her; and yet, now that he
saw her looking for him, he was actually sorry she had not been walking
unconcernedly along the pavement like those who were strangers to him.
However, it must be added in Barney’s favour that this feeling of being
perhaps a trifle too much sought after was but transitory, and that it
did not for a moment interfere with his action. He pulled up his team
with a suddenness that caused the front horse to turn round and face its
driver, threw the reins to his groom, and jumped down with a grace
and celerity as charming in its way as was his driving. The groom
disentangled the horses as Barney accosted Edna with that urbanity which
was perhaps his distinguishing characteristic. The girl seemed surprised
to see him, and was plainly more than a little embarrassed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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