Chapter 67: Second-Class Seat
In the dining room, the family had been waiting for a long time.
Evelyn saw him come in and put down her spoon.
"Brother, why’d you leave so early this morning? And without me!"
"Imperial University doesn’t let just anyone in."
"I’m not ’just anyone.’ I could have waited for you outside."
"Wait outside the university all day?"
The little girl pictured it and decided it didn’t sound very fun. She mumbled something and buried her head back in her soup bowl.
Mother glanced at Richard but didn’t ask him what he’d been doing at the library.
She placed a piece of chicken onto his plate. "Eat up. You must have worked very hard today."
"Mm."
Across from him, Father ate in silence, occasionally looking up at him.
During their stay with the Ashford Family, Rogers had kept a low profile.
He didn’t interfere in the affairs between his father-in-law and son, nor did he go out of his way to get close to the Ashford Family. He ate when it was time to eat, and he slept when it was time to sleep.
But every time his son came back, he would subtly glance at the grandfather clock in the living room.
’That was his way of telling me it was about time for our family to go home.’
.........
The next morning, before leaving for the train station, Richard said his goodbyes to his grandfather in the living room.
Gerald was sitting in his usual spot, waiting for him.
"When do you plan on coming back to the Imperial Capital?"
"It depends," Richard said. "If everything goes smoothly, you should see me again during the summer."
Gerald nodded, not showing any surprise at his grandson’s choice to return to Brighton so soon.
"I’ll keep your room for you. You can come whenever you want."
"Thank you, Grandfather."
Richard walked out the gates of Ashford Mansion, suitcase in hand. An autumn wind blew in from the end of the street.
’This trip to the Imperial Capital had given him a lot.’
’The Gargoyle, the prize money, Huayue Street, the Classical Society’s recommendation list, the knowledge he’d copied down in the library, the information Isabella had revealed... each of these things would slowly ferment in the days to come.’
The family of four stood in the ticketing hall of Imperial City Central Station.
"Four second-class tickets to Brighton." Richard slid the money through the window.
Mother reached out to stop him, but he had already taken the tickets.
"You should keep this money for later..."
"I’ve already bought them. They’re non-refundable."
Margaret watched her son hand out the tickets to everyone. Her lips moved, but in the end, she said nothing.
Father pinched his ticket as he took it.
’Second class. The one-way fare was almost double that of third class. For four people, it was a considerable sum.’
"I was actually thinking of buying first-class tickets," Richard said casually, unbuttoning his coat.
Evelyn was the first to jump in. "First class? Are you crazy? A single first-class ticket costs over one pound!"
Mother sided with his sister:
"Second class is already very good. With the money you’d save from not buying first class, you could buy several books."
Father chimed in:
"You earned those thirty pounds from the competition. Your academic pursuits will cost a lot of money down the line. If you’re so extravagant now, you’ll have nothing to fall back on."
The three of them shot him down from three different angles, their reasoning surprisingly aligned.
Richard noticed something. In everything they said, not a single one of them suggested he use the money to supplement the family’s income.
Father didn’t say it, Mother didn’t say it, and Evelyn certainly didn’t.
’Thirty pounds. It was enough to cover the family’s living expenses for a long time.’
’But all three of them had the same attitude: It’s your money. Use it for something important.’
Richard put the tickets away, picked up his suitcase, and walked toward the platform.
The second-class carriage was leagues better than third.
The seats were fabric-covered springs. Although the fabric was a bit worn and pilling, they were much more comfortable than the bare, hardwood benches of third class.
The carriage was free of chicken cages, large woven sacks, and jam-packed crowds. The air wasn’t thick with the mixed stench of livestock and cheap tobacco.
Two rows of seats faced each other, with a small folding table in between. On the tabletop was a small metal ring for holding teacups.
The windows were larger and the glass cleaner. The window frames even had pull-down blinds.
As soon as Evelyn came in, her eyes darted all around.
She first touched the fabric of the seat, then tested the rebound of the springs, and finally rested her hand on the folding table and gave it a push.
"This is so much better than the ride here," she said, leaning back into her seat with satisfaction.
Mother sat across from her sister, helping her take off her coat and draping it over her lap.
Father sat down across from Richard and, as usual, pulled out an old newspaper he’d gotten from who-knows-where.
The train slowly started to move, and the cast-iron pillars on the platform receded one by one.
The Imperial Capital’s skyline slowly shrank within the window frame, as church spires, bell towers, and clusters of chimneys sank below the horizon one by one.
Evelyn leaned against the window and watched the scenery for a while, but she lost interest once the hills and pastures started to repeat.
She had already seen it all on the way here; she could guess what was around every bend.
’Another patch of grass, another flock of sheep, another little station the train sped past, another dog squatting on a bench.’
She pulled back from the window and turned to talk to her brother beside her.
Just as she opened her mouth, her mother, sitting opposite, gently shook her head.
Evelyn followed her mother’s gaze.
Richard’s head was tilted slightly toward the window, his forehead resting against the glass.
His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and slow. He was asleep.
The position with his forehead against the glass wasn’t actually comfortable. Every time the train jolted, his head would knock against the window frame.
But he didn’t even frown; the knocking didn’t wake him.
Evelyn stared at her brother for a long time.
’During their days in the Imperial Capital, Richard had barely had a moment’s rest.’
’During the day, he was either preparing for the Cicero Cup or running off to who-knows-where. At night, he would stay up studying in his room until the middle of the night.’
’And yesterday, he’d spent the entire day at the Imperial University library.’
’Now, finally on the train and in a relatively soft seat...’
’...the rhythm of the wheels on the tracks was like a lullaby, and he just couldn’t fight it anymore.’
"He’s been really tired these past few days, hasn’t he?" Evelyn whispered, keeping her voice very low.
Mother nodded. "Let him sleep."
Evelyn rested her hands on her knees, suddenly realizing she had nothing to do.
’Couldn’t talk, couldn’t make too much noise, and the view outside was boring now.’
The girl could only lean back against her seat, rest her head on her arms, curl up, and close her eyes.
The carriage grew quiet.
The only sound was the clatter of the wheels over the seams in the track, rhythmic and unceasing.
Margaret watched her children sleeping side-by-side in front of her, and for a moment, she was lost in thought.
Outside the window, the outlines of the hills grew lower, and the silhouettes of distant chimneys began to appear.
After this factory district, Brighton would be just ahead.