A Drake by George! - The Original Classic Edition. Trevena John
"I don't understand buying and selling, and I can't do accounts. You would take the profit, and I should have the losses."
"You must make up your mind. Aunt is perfectly serious," declared Percy.
"I don't want to offend her, and of course I couldn't abuse her kindness," said George slowly; "but just suppose I did refuse to leave
home--suppose I insisted upon staying here and leading the sort of life that suits my health--what could she do?"
"If you were rotten enough for that, I suppose she could appeal to the magistrates for an ejectment order," replied Percy hazily. "She is much too kind for that. Besides, I am her nephew."
"Only by marriage. You are not a blood relation; you can't claim to be dependent on her."
"I was thinking what a scandal it would make in the parish. Aunt and I don't get on well together, but I'm sure she would never turn me out."
"You ought to have heard her just now. I had no idea Aunt Maria could be so determined. She will give you money--she will help
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you--but go you must." "Did she say where?"
"That's for you to decide. Isn't there any sort of job that takes your fancy?"
"I like railways. I always feel at home in a big railway station," George admitted.
"Station-master,--or traffic-manager--might suit you."
"Do you know I really believe it would," said George brightly.
"Now we've found it!" exclaimed Percy. "I'm going the day after tomorrow, and you had better come with me. We will travel up to Waterloo, and you can see the directors there about getting a job as station-master. I don't know if there's a premium, but, if there is, Aunt will pay it. You might get a small suburban station to start with. We'll go on Friday--that's a bargain, George?"
"Right, old chap! It's a long time since I had a holiday," came the ominous reply.
Mrs. Drake opened her heart and purse when she discovered George was about to accept a position as station-master. Miss Yard said she was sorry to hear he was giving up tomatoes, then in the same breath implored Percy to keep away from junctions where people were lost and trains collided with distressing frequency. Kezia mended linen, packed, and uttered many a dark saying about men who left their homes on Friday in the pride of life and were not heard of again. Percy assured his aunts they might always rely upon him
to settle any difficulty. While George basked in popularity, like a sleek cat upon a windowsill, and took all that he could get in the way
of cash, clothing, and compliments.
"You must come here sometimes. I expect you won't be able to get away for a year or two; but when you do get leave remember this
is always your home," said Mrs. Drake warmly.
"I feel sure we shall soon meet again," said George hopefully.
"A year anyhow: you cannot expect a holiday before then. I'm sure the railway will be lucky to get such a fine looking man, though
it's a pity you stoop, and I wish you were not quite so stout. Perhaps the King will get out at your station some day; and you will have the honour of putting flower-pots on the platform and laying down the red carpet. You may be knighted, George, or at the very least get a medal for distinguished service."
George was not thinking about honours much; for he had glanced towards the mantelpiece and discovered that the pair of vases
were missing.
"I have put them away," explained Mrs. Drake. "They are wrapped up safely in a box underneath my bed." "I was afraid Percy might have taken them," said George cautiously.
"He did advise me to put them away, as he thought perhaps we ought to take care of them," Mrs. Drake admitted. "I hate the chap," muttered George.
"I was afraid Aunt Sophy might break them. She is always knocking things over. She takes an ornament from the mantelpiece, and when she tries to put it back she misjudges the distance. It's the same with tables and teacups. She has broken such a lot of crockery."
"Uncle said I was to have the vases and everything else that belonged to him," said George firmly.
"Oh, you needn't worry," Mrs. Drake replied. "Now that you are really going to work for your living, I will let you into a little secret. When I married your uncle he insisted upon going to a lawyer and making his will leaving everything to me, although the dear fel-low had nothing to leave except his odds and ends. So then of course I made a will leaving everything to him, although I thought I had nothing to leave; but the lawyer explained that any money I should have in the bank, together with the proportion of income
reckoned up to the day of my death, would go to him. Then we adopted you, so I went to the lawyer again, and he put on something
called a codicil, which said that, in the event of uncle dying first, everything that I left would go to you."
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"Then there is no reason why I should work for my living," said George cheerfully. "How are you going to live upon the interest of two or three hundred pounds?"
"A man of simple tastes can do with very little," declared the nephew.
Fruit grower and prospective railway magnate went off together on Friday morning, but the only despatch to reach Windward House came from Percy, who announced he had reached his mortgaged premises in perfect safety, after leaving George upon the platform
of Waterloo station surrounded by officials. This might have signified anything. Mrs. Drake supposed it meant that all the great men of the railway had assembled to greet their new colleague upon his arrival. What it did mean was that Percy had freed himself of responsibility at the earliest possible moment, abandoning his cousin to a knot of porters who claimed the honour and distinction
of dealing with his baggage, which probably they supposed was the property of a gentleman about to penetrate into one of the unexplored corners of the earth.
Not a postcard came from George. He disappeared completely; but Mrs. Drake was delighted to think he was attending to his new duties so strenuously as to be unable to write; while Miss Yard remembered him only once, and then remarked in a reverential whisper that she would very much like to visit his grave.
It was the fourteenth day after the flight of George into the realm of labour; and during the afternoon Mrs. Drake set out upon her weekly pilgrimage to the churchyard, accompanied by Kezia, who carried a basket of flowers, and Bessie with a watering pot. Nellie had settled Miss Yard in her easy chair with the latest report of the Society for Improving the Morals of the Andaman Islanders, and had then retired to her bedroom to do some sewing. The giant tortoise was clearing the kitchen garden of young lettuces; the monkeys were collecting entomological specimens. One of the intelligent parrots exclaimed, "Gone for a walk;" a still more intelligent bird answered, "Here we are again!" Then George passed out of the sunshine and entered the cool parlour.
"Oh dear! I'm afraid I had nearly gone to sleep," said Miss Yard, rising to receive the visitor, and wondering whoever he could be, until she remembered the churchwarden had promised to call for a subscription to the organ fund.
"Do please sit down," she continued and tried to set the example; but she missed the chair by a few inches and descended somewhat heavily upon the footstool. The visitor helped her to rise, and was much thanked. "You will stay to tea? My sister will be here presently," Miss Yard continued, while she fumbled in her reticule, and at last produced a sovereign. "You see I had it all ready for you. I remembered I had promised it," she said triumphantly.
George pocketed the coin, and thanked her heartily. He mentioned that it was very dusty walking, and he was weary, having travelled a considerable distance since the morning. Then he proposed to leave Miss Yard, who shook hands, and said how sorry her sister would be not to have seen him; and went to his bedroom, which he was considerably annoyed to find had been converted into a place for lumber.
"Maria, you have missed the vicar!" cried Miss Yard excitedly, the moment her sister returned. "I gave him a sovereign for the Andaman