The Railway Man and His ChildrenOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
General
The Railway Man and His Children
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Children of the rich -- Fiction; Families -- Fiction; Forgery -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction; Social classes -- Fiction
“Oh!” she cried, with a little stamp of her foot, “as if the like of you
would ever understand!” She gave him a little indignant push from her in
the impatience of her soul; but turned to him again after a moment’s
interval. “I am not saying, mind,” said Marion, “that there is anything
in it. There may be nothing in it. It may just pass over, and be of no
consequence. I will maybe be in a much better position when I have gone
to court, and have been seen in society and all that. But you should
remember, Archie, that we’re just very new people. Papa is a new man.
His name is known, but except for our money we are just nobody. Now
mamma is different. I was angry at the time to think that papa had
married again and brought in a grand lady that would look down upon you
and me; but I’ve come to a different way of thinking now. I just study
her and take a lesson by her, and I can see if we are to get on in the
world that she is the one to help us most.”
“I don’t want her help,” cried Archie, “and if that’s what you call
getting on in the world----”
“Oh,” cried Marion, with a sigh of impatience, “you are just like a
bairn. To think that you cannot see for yourself, you that are a man!
What are we to do if we don’t get into society? You would rather be back
in the Sauchiehall Road, with your football and your friends, than in a
grand house like this, with nobody that cares for you, and nothing that
you can do.”
“May,” said the young man, sadly, “many a time I have thought that
myself,--far rather! It was a kind of living, and this is none--to be
waited on hand and foot when you’re not used to it, and feel like a
fool, and have nothing to do. But that’s not all the harm it’s done.
When I went back to the Sauchiehall Road, I was just as much out of
place there! That’s ended: and the other is begun, and there’s no
satisfaction anywhere. I will be faithful to Aunty Jane, poor body, that
was so kind to us, while I have a breath to draw,” he exclaimed with
energy. Then sinking into despondency, “But I cannot go back there, and
I am out of place here; and there is no good that I can see in a world
that’s all a vain show, both for the rich and the poor.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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