Here was the bit
of rock by means of which he could save himself from the sea of
competition that had so nearly whelmed him! Little Clara, now eleven
years old, could go on steadily at school; no need to think of how
the poor child should earn a wretched living. Bob, now thirteen,
should shortly be apprenticed to some better kind of trade. New
rooms were taken and well furnished. Maggie, the wife, could have
good food, such as she needed in her constant ailing, alas! The baby
just born was no longer a cause of anxious thought, but a joy in the
home. And Sidney Kirkwood came to supper as soon as the new rooms
were in order, and his bright, manly face did everyone good to look
at. He still took little Clara upon his knee. Ha! there would come a
day before long when he would not venture to do that, and then
perhaps--perhaps! What a supper that was, and how smoothly went
the great wheels of the world that evening!
One baby, two babies, three babies; before the birth of the third,
John's brow was again clouded, again he had begun to rail and fume
at the unfitness of things. His business was a failure, partly
because he dealt with a too rigid honesty, partly because of his
unstable nature, which left him at the mercy of whims and
obstinacies and airy projects.
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