nd you can enter into another's mind. Three
houses! Well, sir, you know what houses those were. I came up to London at
once (it was last autumn), and I saw my uncle's lawyer, and he told me all
about the property, and I saw it for myself. Ah, Mr. Goldthorpe! If ever a
man suffered a bitter disappointment, sir!'
He ended on a little laugh, as if excusing himself for making so much of
his story, and sat for a moment with head bowed.
'Fate played you a nasty trick there,' said Goldthorpe. 'A knavish trick.'
'One felt almost justified in using strong language, sir--though I always
avoid it on principle. However, I must tell you that the houses weren't
all. Luckily there was a little money as well, and, putting it with my own
savings, sir, I found it would yield me an income. When I say an income, I
mean, of course, for a man in my position. Even when I have to go into
lodgings, when my houses become the property of the ground-landlord--to my
mind, Mr. Goldthorpe, a very great injustice, but I don't set myself up
against the law of the land--I shall just be able to live. And that's no
small blessing, sir, as I think you'll agree.'
'Rather! It's the height of human felicity, Mr. Spicer. I envy you vastly.'
'Well, sir, I'm rather disposed to look at it in that light myself. My
nature is not discontented, Mr. Goldthorpe. But, sir, if you could have
seen me when the lawyer began to explain about the houses! I was absolutely
ignorant of the leasehold system; and at first I really couldn't
understand. The lawyer thought me a fool, I fear, sir. And when I came down
here and saw the houses themselves! I'm afraid, Mr. Goldthorpe, I'm really
afraid, sir, I was weak enough to shed a tear.'
They were sitting by the light of a very small lamp, which did not tend to
cheerfulness.
'Come,' cried Goldthorpe, 'after all, the houses are yours for a
twelvemonth. Why shouldn't we both live on here all the time? It'll be a
little breezy in winter, but we could have the fireplaces knocked into
shape, and keep up good fires. When I've sold my book I'll pay a higher
rent, Mr. Spicer. I like the old house, upon my word I do! Come, let us
have a tune before we go to bed.'
Smiling and happy, Mr. Spicer fetched from the cupboard his concertina, and
after the usual apology for what he called his 'imperfect mastery of the
instrument,' sat down to play 'Home, Sweet Home.' He had played it for
years, and evidently would never improve in his e
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