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Updated: June 20, 2025
There was an air of calm and reserved opulence about the Weightman mansion that spoke not of money squandered, but of wealth prudently applied. Standing on a corner of the Avenue no longer fashionable for residence, it looked upon the swelling tide of business with an expression of complacency and half-disdain. The house was not beautiful.
Ellen is burning with eagerness to hear something about W. Weightman, whom she adores in her heart, and whose image she cannot efface from her memory." Some of her critics, including Mrs. There is nothing, from her fame downwards, that Mrs. Oliphant did not grudge her. Mr. Birrell sternly disapproves; even Mr. Swinburne, at the height of his panegyric, is put off.
But the face of the Keeper of the Gate was infinitely tender as he bent over him. "Think again, John Weightman. Has there been nothing like that in your life?" "Nothing," he sighed. "If there ever were such things, it must have been long ago they were all crowded out I have forgotten them."
"Is there not one here for me? You may not let me enter it yet, perhaps, for I must confess to you that I am only " "I know," said the Keeper of the Gate "I know it all. You are John Weightman." "Yes," said the man, more firmly than he had spoken at first, for it gratified him that his name was known. "Yes, I am John Weightman, Senior Warden of St. Petronius' Church.
But the scores of other interests that radiated from it and were dependent upon it or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, that contributed to its solidity and success the many investments, industrial, political, benevolent, reformatory, ecclesiastical, that had made the name of Weightman well known and potent in city, church, and state, demanded much attention and careful steering, in order that each might produce the desired result.
From the edge of the hill, where John Weightman sat, he could see the travelers, in little groups or larger companies, gathering from time to time by the different paths, and making the ascent. They were all clothed in white, and the form of their garments was strange to him; it was like some old picture.
He had felt his father's disapproval for both of these forms of imprudence; but is was never expressed in a harsh or violent way, always with a certain tolerant patience, such as one might show for the mistakes and vagaries of the very young. John Weightman was not hasty, impulsive, inconsiderate, even toward his own children.
Have you not heard that I have built a school-house; the wing of a hospital; two yes, three small churches, and the greater part of a large one, the spire of St. Petro " The Keeper of the Gate lifted his hand. "Wait," he said; "we know all these things. They were not ill done. But they were all marked and used as foundation for the name and mansion of John Weightman in the world.
This last was perhaps the most carefully planned of all the Weightman Charities. He desired to win the confidence and support of his rural neighbours. It had pleased him much when the local newspaper had spoken of him as an ideal citizen and the logical candidate for the Governorship of the State; but upon the whole it seemed to him wiser to keep out of active politics.
Have you not heard that I have built a school-house; the wing of a hospital; two yes, three small churches, and the greater part of a large one, the spire of St. Petro " The Keeper of the Gate lifted his hand. "Wait," he said; "we know all these things. They were not ill done. But they were all marked and used as foundations for the name and mansion of John Weightman in the world.
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