“I have never liked Sir Matthew Mactavish,” said Mr. Marriott, quietly. “It is wonderful to me how he impresses people; there must be some germ of greatness in him or he couldn’t do it. I am quite aware that the discovery of the truth must make you feel very bitterly towards him, but if you will take an old man’s advice you will dwell upon the past as little as possible. You can do no good by thinking of the injury he has done you, and you will have to be very careful how you speak of him, or in an angry moment you may make yourself liable to an action for slander; legally you know a thing may be perfectly true, but if maliciously uttered and in a way that injures another in his calling it may be nevertheless slander. So you must not proclaim your wrongs from the housetops. Now the question is what are you to do to support yourself?”

“I want to try my luck on the stage,” said Ralph. “It was my wish long ago, and I believe that I might make something of it. I shall never be much good at examinations.”

Wayfaring Men — Part 46

“It seems rather the fashion for young fellows to try it nowadays,” said the lawyer, “but I should think the life was a very hard one, and like all other callings in this country it is much overcrowded. Still you might do worse. I will give you a letter to Barry Sterne; he is a client of mine and might possibly be able to help you. At any rate he would give you his advice.”

Wayfaring Men — Part 46

Ralph caught at the suggestion, and when the next morning the Marriotts started for Switzerland they left him in excellent spirits.

Wayfaring Men — Part 46

“Are you quite sure you have enough to live on until you get work,” asked the old lawyer, drawing him aside at the last moment. “I will gladly lend you something.”

“Thank you,” replied Ralph. “But I have enough to live on till the end of September.”

“And by that time we shall be in London again,” said Mr. Marriott. “Be sure you come to see us and let us know how you prosper.”

It was not without some trepidation that later in the morning Ralph presented himself at the house of Barry Sterne, the great actor. He sent in Mr. Marriott’s letter of introduction and waited nervously in a small back sitting-room, the window of which opened into one of those miniature ferneries which one associates with the operating room of a dentist. Three dejected gold-fish swam aimlessly up and down the narrow tank, and the ferns looked as if they pined for country air. It was a relief when at length he was summoned into the adjoining room. Here the sun was shining, and there was a general sense of ease and comfort, Barry Sterne himself harmonising very well with his setting, for he was a good-natured looking giant with a most genial manner, and his broad, expansive face beamed in a very kindly fashion on his visitor.