FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   10   11   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34  
35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   >>   >|  
ly turned shy or overtaken by a sense of delicacy, backed away sheepishly and left her alone with her son. "Put on your shirt," said she, and again her hand went out to help him. "I want you to take a walk with me." Charles nodded. "Have you seen Sam?" "Yes. You may kiss me now, dear--there's nobody looking. I left him almost an hour ago: his leg is mending, but he cannot walk with us. He promises, though, to come to Johnson's Court this evening--I suppose, in a sedan-chair--and greet your uncle Annesley, whom I have engaged to take back to supper. You knew, of course, that I should be lodging there?" "Sammy--we call him Sammy--told me on Sunday, but could not say when you would be arriving here." "I reached London last night, and this morning your uncle Matthew came to my door with word that the _Albemarle_ had entered the river. I think you are well enough to walk to the Docks with me." "Well enough? Of course I am. But why not take a waterman from the stairs here?" "'Twill cost less to walk and hire a boat at Blackwall, if necessary. Your father could give me very little money, Charles. We seem to be as poorly off as ever." "And this uncle Annesley--" he began, but paused with a glance at his mother, whose face had suddenly grown hot. "What sort of a man is he?" "My boy," she said with an effort, "I must not be ashamed to tell my child what I am not ashamed to hope. He is rich: he once promised to do much for Emmy and Sukey, and these promises came to nothing. But now that his wife is dead and he comes home with neither chick nor child, I see no harm in praying that his heart may be moved towards his sister's children. At least I shall be frank with him and hide not my hope, let him treat it as he will." She was silent for a moment. "Are _all_ women unscrupulous when they fight for their children? They cannot all be certain, as I am, that their children were born for greatness: and yet, I wonder sometimes--" She wound up with a smile which held something of a playful irony, but more of sadness. "Jacky could not come with you?" "No, and he writes bitterly about it. He is tied to Oxford--by lack of pence, again." By this time Charles had slipped on his jacket, and the pair stepped out into the streets and set their faces eastward. Mrs. Wesley was cockney-bred and delighted in the stir and rush of life. She, the mother of many children, kept a well-poised figure and walked w
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   10   11   12   13   14   15   16   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34  
35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58   59   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

children

 

Charles

 

Annesley

 
promises
 
ashamed
 

mother

 
silent
 

promised

 

effort

 

praying


moment
 

sister

 

stepped

 

streets

 

eastward

 
jacket
 

slipped

 

Wesley

 

poised

 
figure

walked

 
cockney
 

delighted

 

Oxford

 

greatness

 

unscrupulous

 

writes

 
bitterly
 

sadness

 

playful


Johnson

 

evening

 

suppose

 

mending

 

lodging

 

supper

 

engaged

 

backed

 

sheepishly

 

delicacy


turned

 

overtaken

 

nodded

 

Sunday

 

poorly

 

Blackwall

 
father
 

suddenly

 

paused

 

glance