Tono Bungay by H. G. (Herbert George) Wells
page 58 of 497 (11%)
page 58 of 497 (11%)
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subsequent life. I felt there existed no place for me that I had to
drive myself in. Presently, down the hill, the servants appeared, straggling by twos and threes, first some of the garden people and the butler's wife with them, then the two laundry maids, odd inseparable old creatures, then the first footman talking to the butler's little girl, and at last, walking grave and breathless beside old Ann and Miss Fison, the black figure of my mother. My boyish mind suggested the adoption of a playful form of appearance. "Coo-ee, mother" said I, coming out against the sky, "Coo-ee!" My mother looked up, went very white, and put her hand to her bosom. I suppose there was a fearful fuss about me. And of course I was quite unable to explain my reappearance. But I held out stoutly, "I won't go back to Chatham; I'll drown myself first." The next day my mother carried me off to Wimblehurst, took me fiercely and aggressively to an uncle I had never heard of before, near though the place was to us. She gave me no word as to what was to happen, and I was too subdued by her manifest wrath and humiliation at my last misdemeanour to demand information. I don't for one moment think Lady Drew was "nice" about me. The finality of my banishment was endorsed and underlined and stamped home. I wished very much now that I had run away to sea, in spite of the coal dust and squalour Rochester had revealed to me. Perhaps over seas one came to different lands. IV |
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