"Well,
your father was anxious. How did I know it? says you. Simply because I
am a trained observer. The sign that I saw him make, ten thousand would
have missed; and perhaps - PERHAPS, I say, because he's a hard man to
judge of - but perhaps he never made another. A strange thing to
consider! It was this. One day I came to him: `Hermiston,' said I,
`there's a change.' He never said a word, just glowered at me (if ye'll
pardon the phrase) like a wild beast. `A change for the better,' said
I. And I distinctly heard him take his breath."
The doctor left no opportunity for anti-climax; nodding his cocked hat
(a piece of antiquity to which he clung) and repeating "Distinctly" with
raised eye-brows, he took his departure, and left Archie speechless in
the street.
The anecdote might be called infinitely little, and yet its meaning for
Archie was immense. "I did not know the old man had so much blood in
him." He had never dreamed this sire of his, this aboriginal antique,
this adamantine Adam, had even so much of a heart as to be moved in the
least degree for another - and that other himself, who had insulted him!
With the generosity of youth, Archie was instantly under arms upon the
other side: had instantly created a new image of Lord Hermiston, that of
a man who was all iron without and all sensibility within.
Pages:
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72