English fiction -- 19th century; London (England) -- Fiction; Poor -- Fiction; Poverty -- Fiction
‘Did he now? Well, I’ve been in America, but I never got so far as
Australia. So Mike’s dead, is he? I hope he had better luck than me.’
The old man did not cease from examining his son’s countenance.
‘What is your position, at present?’ he asked, after a pause. ‘You
don’t look unprosperous.’
‘Nothing to boast of, father. I’ve gone through all kinds of trades. In
the States I both made and lost money. I invented a new method of
nickel-plating, but it did me no good, and then I gave up that line
altogether. Since I’ve been back in England—two years about—I’ve mostly
gone in for canvassing, advertising agencies, and that kind of thing. I
make an honest living, and that’s about all. But I shouldn’t wonder if
things go a bit better now; I feel as if I was settled at last. What
with having a home of my own, and you and Janey near at hand—You won’t
mind if I come and see you both now and then?’
‘I shall hope to see you often,’ replied the other, still keeping his
grave face and tone. ‘It’s been my strong desire that we might come
together again, and I’ve done the best I could to find you. But, as you
said, we’ve been parted for a very long time, and it isn’t in a day
that we can come to understand each other. These seventeen years have
made an old man of me, Jo; I think and speak and act slowly:—better for
us all if I had learned to do so long ago! Your coming was unexpected;
I shall need a little time to get used to the change it makes.’
‘To be sure; that’s true enough. Plenty of time to talk over things. As
far as I’m concerned, father, the less said about bygones the better;
it’s the future that I care about now. I want to put things right
between us—as they ought to be between father and son. You understand
me, I hope?’
Michael nodded, keeping his eyes upon the ground. Again there was a
silence, then Joseph said that if Jane would come in and speak a few
words—so as to make things home-like—it would be time for him to take
his leave for the present. At her grandfather’s summons Jane entered
the room. She was still oppressed by the strangeness of her position,
and with difficulty took part in the colloquy. Joseph, still touching
the note of humility in his talk, eyed his relatives alternately, and
exhibited reluctance to quit them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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