“Going to school, my boy—eh?” he asked at length, after he had looked at Arthur’s mournful face for some little time.
Arthur did not feel much inclined to talk just then, so he only said “No;” and then remembering that, in fact, he was to go to school while he was living at his aunt’s, he was obliged to say, “At least, yes.”
“‘No’ and ‘yes’ both; not quite sure—eh?” asked the old gentleman.
Then Mr. Vivyan turned round, and explained that his son was going to live with his aunt, and that he would go to school from her house.
“Oh, that’s it—eh? Fine times for you then, young man. When I was a boy things were different with me, I can tell you. Hundred boys where I was; and I was one of the little fellows, who had to make it easy for the big ones. Up at six in the morning—coldest winter mornings. Never had a chance of getting near the fire; never went home for the winter holidays. How would you like that—eh?”
“I don’t suppose I should like it at all,” said Arthur. But he thought in his own mind, that his case was not much better.
After a few more remarks from his old friend opposite, when he saw him pull his cap over his face and settle himself to sleep, he was more pleased than otherwise.
Poor little Arthur! He thought he was feeling desolate enough; and as he sat by his father’s side, and thought that even he would soon be far away, it made him feel inclined to cling more closely to him than he had ever done before; so that, when the jolting of the train made his head knock against his father’s shoulder, he let it stay there, and presently he found his father’s strong arm was around him, and Arthur felt that he loved him more than he had ever done before.
“Cheer up, Arthur, my boy,” he heard him say presently, and his voice had a softer sound, than it sometimes had, he thought. “We may all be very happy yet some day together, and not very long, you know. Five years soon pass, you know, Arthur.”
But five years had a very long, dreary sound to him just then. In fact, he could not bear to think of it at all; and he was afraid that if he thought or spoke on the subject, that he should cry, which he did not wish to do just then; so he gave a very deep, long sigh.