E Phillips Oppenheim

Jacob's Ladder E Phillips Oppenheim

Precisely two years later, Jacob Pratt sat once more in his cottage sitting-room, contemplating the remains of a barely tasted breakfast. Before him, read for the fiftieth time, were the wonderful letters, in his brain a most amazing confusion, in his heart an almost hysterical joy. Presently Mrs. Harris brought in his hat and stick. "You'll excuse my mentioning it, sir," she said, looking at the former a little disparagingly, "but, brush though I may, there's no doing much with this hat of yours. The nap's fair gone. Maybe you haven't noticed it, sir, but, with the summer coming on, a straw hat-" "I'll buy a straw hat to-day, Mrs. Harris," Jacob promised. "And you'll be home at the usual time for your supper, sir?" "I-I expect so. I am not quite sure, Mrs. Harris. I shall be home sometime during the day, all right." Mrs. Harris shook her head at the sight of the untasted egg. "You'll excuse my saying so, sir," she pronounced severely, "but there's no good work done on an empty stomach. Times is hard, as we all know, but eggs is cheap." "Mrs. Harris," Jacob reminded her, "it is two years since I left one of your eggs. I left it then because I was miserable. I am leaving it this morning because-I have had good news. I can't eat. Later on-later on, Mrs. Harris."