Chap­ter V – Der­rick Vaughan–Novelist begins as Lawrence departs for war, leav­ing Der­rick in Bath to con­tin­ue man­ag­ing the frag­ile peace between him­self and their dif­fi­cult father, Major Vaugh­an. The atmos­phere at home slight­ly improves at first—thanks to the med­i­c­i­nal effects of Bath’s waters and the Major’s tem­po­rary restraint from alco­hol. How­ev­er, this frag­ile sta­bil­i­ty unrav­els when Derrick’s friend vis­its unex­pect­ed­ly and finds him injured, his arm bro­ken under sus­pi­cious cir­cum­stances. While no clear con­fes­sion is giv­en, it becomes evi­dent that an argu­ment esca­lat­ed into some­thing more phys­i­cal. The Major had relapsed into drink­ing, and in his intox­i­cat­ed state, lost all sense of con­trol. The inci­dent, while not pub­licly acknowl­edged, reveals the emo­tion­al and phys­i­cal toll Der­rick endures. His land­la­dy qui­et­ly express­es con­cern, hint­ing at the dan­ger of leav­ing Der­rick alone with a man capa­ble of vio­lence. The sit­u­a­tion under­scores the often invis­i­ble bur­dens placed on those who care for trou­bled fam­i­ly mem­bers.

Despite his injury, Der­rick does not allow him­self to fall into despair. With his dom­i­nant arm immo­bi­lized, he teach­es him­self to write with his left hand, con­tin­u­ing his work on Lynwood’s Her­itage with admirable per­sis­tence. Writ­ing becomes not only a pro­fes­sion­al pur­suit but a refuge from the chaos sur­round­ing him. His strength lies in his abil­i­ty to endure and adjust, even when com­fort is absent. As he waits for word from pub­lish­ers, he also hears news of Fre­da Merrifield—updates that unset­tle him emo­tion­al­ly, though he keeps those feel­ings close­ly guard­ed. Fre­da rep­re­sents a dif­fer­ent life, one filled with warmth and shared under­stand­ing that feels painful­ly dis­tant. Her name resur­faces often, unspo­ken in let­ters, hint­ed at in con­ver­sa­tions, but ever-present in Derrick’s mind. This emo­tion­al back­drop col­ors his writ­ing, giv­ing it a depth shaped by unful­filled affec­tion and qui­et sor­row.

Even­tu­al­ly, Lynwood’s Her­itage is pub­lished, and Derrick’s antic­i­pa­tion turns to anx­i­ety as the first reviews begin to cir­cu­late. Some praise the work’s thought­ful­ness and real­ism, while oth­ers crit­i­cize its struc­ture and tone. The con­flict­ing opin­ions leave Der­rick shak­en. The sting of pub­lic crit­i­cism pierces deep­er because of the effort he put into the nov­el while under per­son­al strain. Though he had not hoped for rich­es, he had longed for recog­ni­tion, and the luke­warm com­mer­cial response bruis­es his con­fi­dence. The fail­ure is not cat­a­stroph­ic, but it is disheartening—his qui­et labor met with indif­fer­ence, his hopes qui­et­ly dimmed. Rather than lash out or retreat, Der­rick absorbs the dis­ap­point­ment. He reflects on what it means to cre­ate art in a world that does not always reward effort or sin­cer­i­ty.

The chap­ter cap­tures the essence of per­se­ver­ance through dis­ap­point­ment. Derrick’s life is defined not by grand tri­umphs, but by the dig­ni­ty with which he faces set­backs. His rela­tion­ship with his father con­tin­ues to be a source of pain, yet he does not aban­don his duty. His heart remains tied to Fre­da, even if he believes she may nev­er feel the same. His writ­ing becomes both an out­let and a burden—an effort to trans­form suf­fer­ing into some­thing mean­ing­ful. Even as Lynwood’s Her­itage fades from pub­lic view, he does not give up. He begins to plan his next work, not out of ambi­tion, but from an inner dri­ve to com­mu­ni­cate what he sees and feels. Der­rick embod­ies the qui­et strength of those who con­tin­ue despite being over­looked.

By the chapter’s end, the con­trast between Derrick’s exter­nal cir­cum­stances and his inter­nal resilience is unmis­tak­able. While soci­ety may not yet see his worth, the read­er begins to under­stand that his courage lies not in fame or praise, but in integri­ty. He writes, he cares for a dif­fi­cult par­ent, and he faces each day with­out bit­ter­ness. These qui­et vic­to­ries, often unno­ticed by oth­ers, define his char­ac­ter. In a world pre­oc­cu­pied with suc­cess, Der­rick Vaugh­an emerges as a reminder that mean­ing and pur­pose can still exist in lives that remain hum­ble. His sac­ri­fices, though unac­knowl­edged, shape a lega­cy far deep­er than crit­ics or sales fig­ures can mea­sure.