The Way of All Flesh eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 485 pages of information about The Way of All Flesh.

CHAPTER LXIII

I saw my solicitor at once, but when I tried to write to Theobald, I found it better to say I would run down and see him.  I therefore proposed this, asking him to meet me at the station, and hinting that I must bring bad news about his son.  I knew he would not get my letter more than a couple of hours before I should see him, and thought the short interval of suspense might break the shock of what I had to say.

Never do I remember to have halted more between two opinions than on my journey to Battersby upon this unhappy errand.  When I thought of the little sallow-faced lad whom I had remembered years before, of the long and savage cruelty with which he had been treated in childhood—­cruelty none the less real for having been due to ignorance and stupidity rather than to deliberate malice; of the atmosphere of lying and self-laudatory hallucination in which he had been brought up; of the readiness the boy had shown to love anything that would be good enough to let him, and of how affection for his parents, unless I am much mistaken, had only died in him because it had been killed anew, again and again and again, each time that it had tried to spring.  When I thought of all this I felt as though, if the matter had rested with me, I would have sentenced Theobald and Christina to mental suffering even more severe than that which was about to fall upon them.  But on the other hand, when I thought of Theobald’s own childhood, of that dreadful old George Pontifex his father, of John and Mrs John, and of his two sisters, when again I thought of Christina’s long years of hope deferred that maketh the heart sick, before she was married, of the life she must have led at Crampsford, and of the surroundings in the midst of which she and her husband both lived at Battersby, I felt as though the wonder was that misfortunes so persistent had not been followed by even graver retribution.

Poor people!  They had tried to keep their ignorance of the world from themselves by calling it the pursuit of heavenly things, and then shutting their eyes to anything that might give them trouble.  A son having been born to them they had shut his eyes also as far as was practicable.  Who could blame them?  They had chapter and verse for everything they had either done or left undone; there is no better thumbed precedent than that for being a clergyman and a clergyman’s wife.  In what respect had they differed from their neighbours?  How did their household differ from that of any other clergyman of the better sort from one end of England to the other?  Why then should it have been upon them, of all people in the world, that this tower of Siloam had fallen?

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The Way of All Flesh from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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