by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER X
LLEWELLYN'S GIFT.
Late that evening there came a knock at Llewellyn's door. He called out,"Come in!" and his sister Leslie entered. She shut the door softlybehind her.
"Mother is asleep," she said; "and I think she has been crying--she sighsso heavily in her sleep; it is not like her. I would not wake her forthe world; but I knew you would be up, Lew, and I felt that I must havea talk with you."
"All right--that is, if you really wish it," said Llewellyn, slightlystretching himself, and a frown coming between his brows. He had beenbending over a volume of Plato's "Republic," and some sheets ofmanuscript, scribbled over as if in frantic haste, were scattered aboutthe table. When Leslie approached he pushed the manuscripthelter-skelter into a waste-paper basket and shut up the book.
"Why did you do that?" said Leslie; "why do you hide your real thoughtsfrom me, Lew? Don't you want me to know? We have always been more thanordinary brother and sister to each other. What is the matter with you?"
Still Llewellyn did not reply. He stood up and looked at his sister withas expressionless a face as he could possibly manage to assume.
"It is no use," said Leslie. She went up to him now, raised herself ontiptoe, and kissed him on his cheek. "You have done it, and it is nobleof you, it is splendid of you; but why--why?"
"How can you ask me why?" he answered. "Can't you guess?"
"I guess partly," replied the girl; "you want to help mother. But surelyyou could help her much more effectually in the long run by doing whatMr. Parker wishes. It is such a chance, and it was put in your way, Lew;you didn't go out of your way to seek it. Perhaps God meant you toaccept it."
"No, don't," cried Llewellyn--"don't say that." A spasm of pain flittedacross the boy's face, then vanished.
"I want to help mother, and I will," he said stoutly. "I don't intendher to do all the toiling and money-making any longer. I am almost aman, Leslie; I shall be seventeen my next birthday. Oh, in one sense itis young! but it is not young with me, for I think I am older than myyears. I won't see her grinding without putting my own shoulder to thewheel. It's just intolerable!"
"I wish you would listen to me, Llewellyn," said Leslie; "it is not toolate yet. The chance has been offered to you and the chance has beenoffered to me. It seems to me, on thinking things over, that only one ofus can take it, for mother can't do without both of us."
"That's just what I said," interrupted Llewellyn; "you are to go and Iam to stay. It is all arranged. Don't, like a dear girl, worry over thething any longer. It's done, and that's an end of it."
"But you must let me speak," said Leslie. "I can never go to St. Wode'sunless I make a clean breast of all that is in my mind. If one of us isto grind for the present, ought not I to be the one? I am older thanyou, I have had a more thorough education, I can easily get a positionas junior teacher in Miss Harkaway's school. There is a vacancy, and shehas half promised it to me. That will bring me in thirty pounds a yearand my food, and, after a bit, I might do even better. Thus I should bealtogether off mother's hands, and could even help her a trifle. Then,Lew, you will be really helping her at Oxford. As you are acquiringlearning, and as those magnificent brains of yours are being cultivatedto their full worth, you will be preparing for a learned profession, ora professorship, or something of that kind. Surely, surely, that wouldbe a more substantial help to the sweetest mother in the world than yourearning a pound a week now at Lee & Forrest's."
"There is something in what you say, Leslie; but there is not enough init," said Llewellyn quietly. "Believe me, I have thought of all thisfrom every point of view. In the first place, professorships do not meanwealth, and, for mother's sake, I mean to be a wealthy man some day. Youmust go into trade to be wealthy now. Oh, it is not that I care formoney, not a bit! But I want to save the mother, to keep her fromtoiling when she is old, to help the younger children. I can't standParker doing all the help, Leslie; the mere thought drives me half wild.Then I shall not always work at a pound a week. In a couple of years Imay be earning a salary of two hundred a year, for I don't mind tellingyou that young Forrest has taken no end of a fancy to me, and he and Ihad a long talk to-day. He took me up to see his father, and his fatherwould do anything for a boy Jim liked. Jim goes to Oxford in the autumn.He hates the shop, and he won't go into business, for he can't stand it,and so his father has to start him in a profession. But he hinted verybroadly--and so did the old man, too, for that matter--that if I couldtake his place it would put matters a bit right and smooth down thepride of old Forrest; so I shall have my chance, Leslie--a smallpartnership by and by; and I mean to take it, little girl, so you can goto Wingfield with a heart and a half, and win the academic honors of thefamily. It is a splendid chance for you, Leslie, and I'm not the fellowto stand in your way."
"But I just wish you would!" she cried.
Llewellyn put one of his arms round her and drew her close to him.
"One can take an interest in anything one sets one's mind to," hecontinued. "I shall begin double entry and bookkeeping and all that sortof thing to-morrow, and the classics may go to Hong Kong for thepresent. Poor old Plato! I loved him, and I had dreams about him; but heand I must be strangers for the present. You think me silly now, dear,but you won't when I have succeeded. By the time I have a great big shopof my own you will think me the wise one of the family. Leslie, my dear,what is wrong?"
For Leslie had squeezed his arm so tightly that the lad winced.
"I can't bear to think of you with a shop," she cried, "with that brainand those eyes. And oh, Lew! don't you remember how you translatedThucydides for us? And--oh, Lew, it can't be borne."
"It must be borne," he replied stoutly. "I can have lessons in theclassics if I have time enough presently. Oh, a university man is notthe only man in the world, Leslie. But now we will talk no more of this.Once for all, my mind is made up."
"What would our father have said," she cried; "our father, who was agreat scholar?"
"If he were to come back, and if he could speak to me, I am quitecertain he would say that I was more worthy to be his son if I helpedthe mother quickly than if I did anything else," replied the boy.
"Perhaps you are right," said Leslie, in a thoughtful voice.
Llewellyn rubbed his hand over his eyes.
"I don't pretend, all the same, that it's not been no end of a tussle,"he said; "but now my mind is made up."
"Quite?"
"Yes, quite."
"Have you given an answer yet to Mr. Forrest?"
"Practically I have; but the mother must come round with me to see himto-morrow. The dear little mother won't much like it; but she must doit. You don't know how he respects her, Leslie."
"I should think so," said Leslie; "that goes without saying. She isquite the dearest, bravest little mother in the wide world."
"Well, dry your tears, old girl; I'll look after her while you are away.Be cheerful, Leslie, and get all the good you can out of thismagnificent thing, for I don't pretend that it's not a great bit offortune for you. It is quite possible and right for you to take helpfrom Mr. Parker; but I could not do it. It's not in me to take favorsfrom anyone. Such a thing would lower me in my own eyes. Oh, it does notlower you, Leslie; but it would me, for I am differently made. We musteach walk according to our own lights. And now go to bed, old girl, forI am half dead with sleep."
"Kiss me, first," she said. "Llewellyn, I think you are the bravest boyin all the world."
"You would not say so if you had seen me two hours back. I was somiserable I felt fit to kill myself; but there," he added, clenching oneof his strong hands, "I did not mean to let it out to you, and I amquite right now and I don't feel a bit miserable."
Leslie left the room, and Llewellyn was alone.
"But, all the same, it's a hard tug," he muttered as he glanced roundhim. He dropped into a chair and buried his face in his hands. Hethought of the dreams which must never be realized, of theschool-fellows who would more or less despise him, of
the differentposition he must occupy in future.
"Good-by literature," he said to himself; "good-by the laurels whichwould have been so sweet to gather. Good-by dreams."
But, by and by, as Llewellyn thought, he raised his face, and, gazingstraight before him, he saw another vision, and that vision comfortedand strengthened him a good bit. It was that of a home, with a woman init who wore the sweetest face in the world, and who was not tired withoverwork, who, in fact, need not work at all. He saw himself as the onewho was keeping that home. With his toil, with the energy of his strongyoung arms, with the youth and talents which God had given him, he wassupporting his mother and his younger brothers and sisters; and they alllooked up to him and loved him, and his heart was happy. The thought ofthe picture made his heart happy even now.
He smiled, dropped on his knees, muttered a hasty prayer, and, tumblinginto bed, was soon fast asleep.
Leslie in her own room also slept, and bright dreams came to her. Thethought of the future was delightful, and she looked upon it asLlewellyn's gift.
"For if Llewellyn had been selfish and had accepted Mr. Parker's offer,I could not have gone," thought the girl. "I could not have left motherif Llewellyn were not with her; but, as it is, and as he is sacrificinghimself, oh! I will work just double time in order to make it up to him.For some day he must have time to pursue his beloved classics, and hisliterature, and all those things which he cares for. No girl who has anoble brother like Llewellyn ought to shrink at anything. I believe I amthe happiest, and I know I am the proudest, girl in the world."
