Read Online From Across the Ancient Waters by Michael Phillips - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Phillips
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offspring. Even now, with the evidence before his eyes every day, he yet remained oblivious to the danger he continued to perpetuate by pampering his son and daughter in their self-indulgence. Westbrooke was of the school that taught a man to get what he could and watch out for number one. His foresight, therefore, was not altogether perceptive in the matter of what he might be passing down unto the third and fourth generations of his progeny.
The axiom “Lead by example” works in many directions. The result generally reinforces tendencies already well established within the garden of personhood. A good example is not usually sufficient to counteract a bad one willingly emulated. In this case, as their father was the stronger personality of the marital union, the children had taken his model as their standard. Neither Courtenay nor Florilyn had any desire to become a saint. Both appeared likely to be granted their wish.
Breakfast concluded, Percy wandered back to his quarters. Alone again, he stood for a moment gazing absently out the window, then turned again into the room and threw himself on the bed. It was less than twelve hours since their arrival. Already he was bored silly.
His father found him unmoved forty minutes later.
Their good-byes were stiff and awkward. Hoping for a word or glance or gesture that might indicate a softening in his son’s soul, the vicar remained a moment more beside the bed.
But none came.
Drummond turned at length and left the room. Tears gathered in his eyes as he made his way down the hall.
An hour later he sat in the coach on his way to the train that would take him back to Glasgow.
God
, he prayed silently,
his mother and I have done the best we knew. It certainly did not turn out as we had hoped
. He sighed disconsolately then added in an inaudible whisper, “Do what You can for him, Lord. Fulfill the words of the proverb that he will one day return to the training we gave him.”
Shortly after lunch—a strained affair with aunt and uncle now that he was alone with them—Percy wandered out behind the great house. He had seen neither of his cousins since the previous night and was glad. As much bluster as he tried to wear, he was, after all, still a boy in many ways. One would think that city life might have made him more worldly wise than his country-bred cousins. Just the opposite was in fact the case. Without any noticeable spiritual component to their existence, in spite of their mother’s efforts, and a sense shared by both of their own superiority as wealthy son and daughter of a lord, Courtenay and Florilyn had matured rapidly in that ugliest of character flaws—hauteur. They were in love with themselves.
Percy Drummond, on the other hand, had grown up as the only child of a manse. That fact alone had shielded him from many of the very influences bearing such foul fruit in the personality gardens of his cousins. He at least had
heard
values espoused that, though he now eschewed them, had been part and parcel of the soil in which his being had sent down its first roots.
Percy’s rebellion was a phase of youth. The conceit of his cousins was more deeply endemic to their natures. It would thus be more difficult to purge.
T WELVE
The Stables
F or the rest of the day, which seemed fifty hours long, Percy wandered about, did his best to avoid human contact, returned to his room, stared out the window, lay on his bed, wandered out again, and nearly went mad with boredom.
The family did not gather for dinner as the viscount and Courtenay were gone to the neighboring estate. A buffet had been spread out in the dining room. Percy ate with his aunt, though the conversation was mostly one-sided on her part.
Slowly the evening wore on. Dusk descended on North Wales. A gorgeous sunset rose over the sea to the west but was lost on Percy. Alone in his room, he stared out the window into the dusky gloom. All below him the house was quiet. It had been since the striking of
The axiom “Lead by example” works in many directions. The result generally reinforces tendencies already well established within the garden of personhood. A good example is not usually sufficient to counteract a bad one willingly emulated. In this case, as their father was the stronger personality of the marital union, the children had taken his model as their standard. Neither Courtenay nor Florilyn had any desire to become a saint. Both appeared likely to be granted their wish.
Breakfast concluded, Percy wandered back to his quarters. Alone again, he stood for a moment gazing absently out the window, then turned again into the room and threw himself on the bed. It was less than twelve hours since their arrival. Already he was bored silly.
His father found him unmoved forty minutes later.
Their good-byes were stiff and awkward. Hoping for a word or glance or gesture that might indicate a softening in his son’s soul, the vicar remained a moment more beside the bed.
But none came.
Drummond turned at length and left the room. Tears gathered in his eyes as he made his way down the hall.
An hour later he sat in the coach on his way to the train that would take him back to Glasgow.
God
, he prayed silently,
his mother and I have done the best we knew. It certainly did not turn out as we had hoped
. He sighed disconsolately then added in an inaudible whisper, “Do what You can for him, Lord. Fulfill the words of the proverb that he will one day return to the training we gave him.”
Shortly after lunch—a strained affair with aunt and uncle now that he was alone with them—Percy wandered out behind the great house. He had seen neither of his cousins since the previous night and was glad. As much bluster as he tried to wear, he was, after all, still a boy in many ways. One would think that city life might have made him more worldly wise than his country-bred cousins. Just the opposite was in fact the case. Without any noticeable spiritual component to their existence, in spite of their mother’s efforts, and a sense shared by both of their own superiority as wealthy son and daughter of a lord, Courtenay and Florilyn had matured rapidly in that ugliest of character flaws—hauteur. They were in love with themselves.
Percy Drummond, on the other hand, had grown up as the only child of a manse. That fact alone had shielded him from many of the very influences bearing such foul fruit in the personality gardens of his cousins. He at least had
heard
values espoused that, though he now eschewed them, had been part and parcel of the soil in which his being had sent down its first roots.
Percy’s rebellion was a phase of youth. The conceit of his cousins was more deeply endemic to their natures. It would thus be more difficult to purge.
T WELVE
The Stables
F or the rest of the day, which seemed fifty hours long, Percy wandered about, did his best to avoid human contact, returned to his room, stared out the window, lay on his bed, wandered out again, and nearly went mad with boredom.
The family did not gather for dinner as the viscount and Courtenay were gone to the neighboring estate. A buffet had been spread out in the dining room. Percy ate with his aunt, though the conversation was mostly one-sided on her part.
Slowly the evening wore on. Dusk descended on North Wales. A gorgeous sunset rose over the sea to the west but was lost on Percy. Alone in his room, he stared out the window into the dusky gloom. All below him the house was quiet. It had been since the striking of
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