England -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Runaway children -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
"Stop a moment, my man," said the elder gentleman rather sternly, while
the younger stood biting his lips; "where do your father and mother
live?"
Those words made something rise in my throat, and I looked wildly at
him, but could not speak.
He did not see my face, for he had taken up a pen and drawn a memorandum
slip towards him.
"Well; why don't you speak?" he said sharply, and as he raised his eyes
I tried, but could not get out a word, only pointed mutely to the shabby
band of crape upon my cap.
"Ah!"
There was a deep sigh close by me, and I saw that the young lady
addressed as Miss Carr was deadly pale, and for the first time I noticed
that she was in deep mourning.
"My dear Miss Carr!" whispered the young man earnestly.
"Don't speak to me for a minute," she said in the same tone; and then I
saw her face working and lip quivering as she gazed wistfully at me.
"Poor lad!" said the elder man abruptly. Then, "Your friends, my boy,
your relatives?"
"I have none, sir," I said huskily, "only an uncle, and I don't know for
certain where he lives."
"But you don't mean that you are alone in the world?" said the young man
quickly, and he glanced at the lady as he spoke.
"Yes, sir," I said quietly, for I had now recovered myself, "I am quite
alone, and I want to get a situation to earn my living."
The elder gentleman turned upon me and seemed to look me through and
through.
"Now, look here, young fellow," he said, "you are either a very
unfortunate boy or a designing young impostor."
"Mr Ruddle!" exclaimed Miss Carr indignantly; and I saw the young man's
eyes glitter as he gazed at her sweet, sad face, twenty times more
attractive now than when she was speaking lightly a minute before.
"I don't want to be harsh, my dear, but here we are obliged to be firm
and business-like. Now, boy, answer me; have you been to a good
school?"
"No, sir," I said, speaking sharply now, for his use of the word
"impostor" stung me; "I was educated at home."
"Humph! where do you come from?"
"Rowford, sir."
"Town on a tall hill?"
"No, sir," I said in surprise; "Rowford is quite in a hole; but we lived
four miles from Rowford, sir, on the Cawleigh road."
"Then you know Leydon Wood."
"Oh yes, sir! that's where papa used to take me to collect specimens."
"Humph! Don't say _papa_, my boy. Boys who go into the world to get
their living don't speak of their papas. John Lister!"
"Wait a minute, Ruddle," said the younger man, whose back was towards
us; and I saw that he was leaning over Miss Carr and holding her hand.
"If you wish it," he whispered softly, "it shall be done."
"I do wish it," she said with an earnest look in her large eyes as she
gazed kindly at me; and the young man turned round, flushed and excited.
I was shrinking away towards the door, pained and troubled, for I felt
that I had no business there, when Mr Lister motioned me to stop, and
said something to the elder gentleman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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