The Errand Boy; Or, How Phil Brent Won Success, Jr. Horatio Alger [beach read .TXT] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «The Errand Boy; Or, How Phil Brent Won Success, Jr. Horatio Alger [beach read .TXT] 📗». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
Mr. Granville drew the boy to him, and looked earnestly in his face, then kissed him affectionately.
“He has changed since he was a little child, Mrs. Brent,” he said, with a half-sigh.
“That's to be expected, sir. He was only three years old when you left him with us.”
“But it seems to me that his hair and complexion are lighter.”
“You can judge of that better than I,” said Mrs. Brent plausibly. “To me, who have seen him daily, the change was not perceptible.”
“I am greatly indebted to you for your devoted care—to you and your husband. I am grieved to hear that Mr. Brent is dead.”
“Yes, sir; he left me six months since. It was a grievous loss. Ah, sir, when I give up Philip also, I shall feel quite alone in the world,” and she pressed a handkerchief to her eyes. “You see, I have come to look upon him as my own boy!”
“My dear madam, don't think that I shall be so cruel as to take him from you. Though I wish him now to live with me, you must accompany him. My home shall be yours if you are willing to accept a room in my house and a seat at my table.”
“Oh, Mr. Granville, how can I thank you for your great kindness? Ever since I received your letter I have been depressed with the thought that I should lose dear Philip. If I had a child of my own it would be different; but, having none, my affections are centered upon him.”
“And very naturally,” said Mr. Granville. “We become attached to those whom we benefit. Doubtless he feels a like affection for you. You love this good lady, Philip, who has supplied to you the place of your own mother, who died in your infancy, do you not?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Jonas stolidly. “But I want to live with my pa!”
“To be sure you shall. My boy, we have been separated too long already. Henceforth we will live together, and Mrs. Brent shall live with us.”
“Where do you live, pa?” asked Jonas.
“I have a country-seat a few miles from Chicago,” answered Mr. Granville. “We will go there as soon as I am well enough. I ought to apologize, Mrs. Brent, for inviting you up to my room, but my rheumatism makes me a prisoner.”
“I hope your rheumatism will soon leave you, sir.”
“I think it will. I have an excellent physician, and already I am much better. I may, however, have to remain here a few days yet.”
“And where do you wish Philip and I to remain in the meantime?”
“Here, of course. Philip, will you ring the bell?”
“I don't see any bell,” answered Jonas, bewildered.
“Touch that knob!”
Jonas did so.
“Will that ring the bell?” he asked curiously.
“Yes, it is an electric bell.”
“By gosh!” ejaculated Jonas.
“Don't use such language, Philip!” said Mrs. Brent hastily. “Your father will be shocked. You see, Mr. Granville, Philip has associated with country boys, and in spite of my care, he has adopted some of their language.”
Mr. Granville himself was rather disturbed by this countrified utterance, and it occurred to him that his new-found son needed considerable polishing.
“Ah, I quite understand that, Mrs. Brent,” he said courteously. “He is young yet, and there will be plenty of time for him to get rid of any objectionable habits and phrases.”
Here the servant appeared.
“Tell the clerk to assign this lady and the boy rooms on this floor if any are vacant. Mrs. Brent, Philip may have a room next to you for the present. When I am better I will have him with me. John, is dinner on the table?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then, after taking possession of your rooms, you and Philip had better go to dinner. I will send for him later.”
“Thank you, sir.”
As Mrs. Brent was ushered into her handsome apartment her face was radiant with joy and exultation.
“All has gone well!” she said. “The most difficult part is over.”
CHAPTER XIX. A NARROW ESCAPE FROM DETECTION.
The conspiracy into which Mrs. Brent had entered was a daring one, and required great coolness and audacity. But the inducements were great, and for her son's sake she decided to carry it through. Of course it was necessary that she should not be identified with any one who could disclose to Mr. Granville the deceit that was being practiced upon him. Circumstances lessened the risk of detection, since Mr. Granville was confined to his room in the hotel, and for a week she and Jonas went about the city alone.
One day she had a scare.
She was occupying a seat in a Chestnut Street car, while Jonas stood in front with the driver, when a gentleman whom she had not observed, sitting at the other end of the car, espied her.
“Why, Mrs. Brent, how came you here?” he asked, in surprise, crossing over and taking a seat beside her.
Her color went and came as, in a subdued tone, she answered.
“I am in Philadelphia on a little visit, Mr. Pearson.”
“Are you not rather out of your latitude?” asked the gentleman.
“Yes, perhaps so.”
“How is Mr. Brent?”
“Did you not hear that he was dead?”
“No, indeed! I sympathize with you in your sad loss.”
“Yes,” sighed the widow. “It is a great loss to us.”
“I suppose Jonas is a large boy now,” said the other. “I haven't seen him for two or three years.”
“Yes, he has grown,” said the widow briefly. She hoped that Mr. Pearson would not discover that Jonas was with her, as she feared that the boy might betray them unconsciously.
“Is he with you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you stay long in Philadelphia?”
“No, I think not,” answered Mrs. Brent.
Comments (0)