Young Earnest: The Romance of a Bad Start in Life — John Shaqi
Young Earnest: The Romance of a Bad Start in LifeCannan, Gilbert
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Young Earnest: The Romance of a Bad Start in Life
Cannan, Gilbert
English fiction -- 20th century
"You--you---- I'm afraid," said René chokingly, "I'm afraid you'll
find the door shut against you. I've--I've often thought what I should
do if I set eyes on you again. That's what I shall do. I can't let you
come."
"Essie," the stranger turned to Mrs. Fourmy, "I'm dead broke."
"You must come and tell us, but you mustn't stay. We've been out, René
and I. We've got supper."
Her voice thinned away. She could speak no more. Her hand pressed René
to move on, and they set out toward their house with the man
following. René held the garden gate open, and stayed for a moment
fumbling for his key. When he found it, his father and mother were
standing silhouetted against the glass panel of the door. He let them
in, and, obeying an obscure instinct that stirred in him, went
upstairs to leave them alone together. Not for long. He found that in
his confusion he had taken the viands with him. He gained a few
moments in the kitchen preparing a tray (Polly was out for the evening
and not yet returned), and then, with the dishes clattering as he
walked, he rejoined them in the dining-room.
He had not consciously expected anything, but as he entered the
dining-room he saw his father with his back turned to him at the
corner cupboard with his hand on the key, his head cocked, his
shoulders up, very like George, and it was as though he had foreseen
it. It was uncanny and his heart ached in a sort of dread.
His mother's face was shining with a glowing excitement, and she
looked away from him as she said:
"Your father wants us to let him stay for a little. There's George's
room, you know, and I want him to."
René felt helpless. The emergency was too strong for him.
"All right," he said.
His father turned and smiled pleasantly.
"That's good of you--very good of you. I'd be in the cart without.
I'm--well--I've been---- But we'll talk of that later."
"Talk!" murmured René, aghast. "Who would talk? Who could find
anything to say?" Miserably he laid out the plates round the big
hospitable table, so big, so hospitable, that it was out of place and
forbidding.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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