John Halifax, Gentleman | Page 8

without feeling my heart cheered and delighted, like one brought out of a murky chamber into the open day.
But all this was highly objectionable to Jael.
"Phineas!"--and she planted herself before me at the end of the table--"it's a fine, sunshiny day: thee ought to be out."
"I have been out, thank you, Jael." And John and I went on talking.
"Phineas!"--a second and more determined attack--"too much laughing bean't good for thee; and it's time this lad were going about his own business."
"Hush!--nonsense, Jael."
"No--she's right," said John Halifax, rising, while that look of premature gravity, learned doubtless out of hard experience, chased all the boyish fun from his face. "I've had a merry day--thank you kindly for it! and now I'll be gone."
Gone! It was not to be thought of--at least, not till my father came home. For now, more determinedly than ever, the plan which I had just ventured to hint at to my father fixed itself on my mind. Surely he would not refuse me--me, his sickly boy, whose life had in it so little pleasure.
"Why do you want to go? You have no work?"
"No; I wish I had. But I'll get some."
"How?"
"Just by trying everything that comes to hand. That's the only way. I never wanted bread, nor begged it, yet--though I've often been rather hungry. And as for clothes"--he looked down on his own, light and threadbare, here and there almost burst into holes by the stout muscles of the big growing boy--looked rather disconsolately. "I'm afraid SHE would be sorry--that's all! She always kept me so tidy."
By the way he spoke, "SHE" must have meant his mother. There the orphan lad had an advantage over me; alas! I did not remember mine.
"Come," I said, for now I had quite made up my mind to take no denial, and fear no rebuff from my father; "cheer up. Who knows what may turn up?"
"Oh yes, something always does; I'm not afraid!" He tossed back his curls, and looked smiling out through the window at the blue sky; that steady, brave, honest smile, which will meet Fate in every turn, and fairly coax the jade into good humour.
"John, do you know you're uncommonly like a childish hero of mine-- Dick Whittington? Did you ever hear of him?"
"No."
"Come into the garden then"--for I caught another ominous vision of Jael in the doorway, and I did not want to vex my good old nurse; besides, unlike John, I was anything but brave. "You'll hear the Abbey bells chime presently--not unlike Bow bells, I used to fancy sometimes; and we'll lie on the grass, and I'll tell you the whole true and particular story of Sir Richard Whittington."
I lifted myself, and began looking for my crutches. John found and put them into my hand, with a grave, pitiful look.
"You don't need those sort of things," I said, making pretence to laugh, for I had not grown used to them, and felt often ashamed.
"I hope you will not need them always."
"Perhaps not--Dr. Jessop isn't sure. But it doesn't matter much; most likely I shan't live long." For this was, God forgive me, always the last and greatest comfort I had.
John looked at me--surprised, troubled, compassionate--but he did not say a word. I hobbled past him; he following through the long passage to the garden door. There I paused--tired out. John Halifax took gentle hold of my shoulder.
"I think, if you did not mind, I'm sure I could carry you. I carried a meal-sack once, weighing eight stone."
I burst out laughing, which maybe was what he wanted, and forthwith consented to assume the place of the meal-sack. He took me on his back---what a strong fellow he was!--and fairly trotted with me down the garden walk. We were both very merry; and though I was his senior I seemed with him, out of my great weakness and infirmity, to feel almost like a child.
"Please to take me to that clematis arbour; it looks over the Avon. Now, how do you like our garden?"
"It's a nice place."
He did not go into ecstasies, as I had half expected; but gazed about him observantly, while a quiet, intense satisfaction grew and diffused itself over his whole countenance.
"It's a VERY nice place."
Certainly it was. A large square, chiefly grass, level as a bowling-green, with borders round. Beyond, divided by a low hedge, was the kitchen and fruit garden--my father's pride, as this old-fashioned pleasaunce was mine. When, years ago, I was too weak to walk, I knew, by crawling, every inch of the soft, green, mossy, daisy-patterned carpet, bounded by its broad gravel walk; and above that, apparently shut in as with an impassable barrier from the outer world, by a three-sided fence, the high wall, the yew-hedge, and the river.
John Halifax's comprehensive gaze seemed to take in all.
"Have