‘Poor mamma is not quite well,’ said the
daughter. ’She has headaches so often,
and she has one now. And papa has not come back
from the bank. I have been gardening and am all——.’
Then she stopped and blushed, as though ashamed of
herself for saying so much.
’I am sorry Mrs. Bolton is unwell. I will
not go the ceremony of leaving a card, as I hope to
able to come again to thank her for her kindness before
I went on my travels. Will you tell your father
that I called?’ Then he mounted his horse, feeling,
as he did so, that he was throwing away an opportunity
which kind fortune had given him. There they were
together, he and this girl of whom he had dreamed;—and
now he was leaving her, because he did not know how
to hold her in conversation for ten minutes!
But it was true, and he had to leave her. He could
not instantly tell her how he admired her, how he
loved her, how he had thought of her, and how completely
she had realised all his fondest dreams. When
on his horse, he turned round, and, lifting his hat
to her, took a last glance. It could not have
been otherwise, he said to himself. He had been
sure that she would grow up to be exactly that which
he had found her. To have supposed that Nature
could have been untrue to such promises as had been
made then, would have been to suppose Nature a liar.
Just outside the gate he met the old banker, who,
according to his daily custom, had walked back from
the town. ‘Yes,’ said Mr. Bolton,
’I remember you,—I remember you very
well. So you found a lot of gold?’
‘I got some.’
’You have been one of the few fortunate, I hear.
I hope you will be able to keep it, and to make a
good use of it. My compliments to your father.
Good evening.’
’I shall take an early opportunity of paying
my respects again to Mrs. Bolton, who, I am sorry
to hear, is not well enough to see me,’ said
Caldigate, preventing the old curmudgeon from escaping
with his intended rapidity.
’She is unfortunately often an invalid, sir,—and
feels therefore that she has no right to exact from
any one the ceremony of morning visits. Good
evening sir.’
But he cared not much for this coldness. Having
found where the gold lay at this second Ahalala,—that
the gold was real gold,—he did not doubt
but that he would be able to make good his mining operations.
Chapter XV
Again At Pollington
On his arrival at Pollington, all the Shands welcomed
him as though he had been the successful son or successful
brother who had gone out from among them; and spoke
of ‘Poor Dick’ as being the unsuccessful
son or unsuccessful brother,—as indeed
he was. There did not seem to be the slightest
anger against him, in that he had thriven and had left
Dick behind him in such wretched poverty. There
was no just ground for anger, indeed. He was
well aware of that. He had done his duty by Dick
Copyrights
John Caldigate from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
