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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16971.txt b/16971.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9306834 --- /dev/null +++ b/16971.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12648 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Prince of Sinners, by E. Phillips Oppenheim + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Prince of Sinners + + +Author: E. Phillips Oppenheim + + + +Release Date: October 30, 2005 [eBook #16971] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PRINCE OF SINNERS*** + + +E-text prepared by MRK + + + +A PRINCE OF SINNERS + +by + +E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM + + + + + + + +Contents + + PART I. + + I. Mr. Kingston Brooks, Political Agent + II. The Bullsom Family at Home + III. Kingston Brooks has a Visitor + IV. A Question for the Country + V. The Marquis of Arranmore + VI. The Man who went to Hell + VII. A Thousand Pounds + VIII. Kingston Brooks makes Inquiries + IX. Henslow speaks out + X. A Tempting Offer + XI. Who the Devil is Brooks? + XII. Mr. Bullsom gives a Dinner-party + XIII. Charity the "Crime" + XIV. An Awkward Question + XV. A Supper-party at the "Queen's" + XVI. Uncle and Niece + XVII. Fifteen Years in Hell + XVIII. Mary Scott pays an Unexpected Call + XIX. The Marquis Mephistopheles + XX. The Confidence of Lord Arranmore + + PART II. + + I. Lord Arranmore's Amusements + II. The Heckling of Henslow + III. Mary Scott's Two Visitors + IV. A Marquis on Matrimony + V. Brooks enlists a Recruit + VI. Kingston Brooks, Philanthropist + VII. Brooks and his Missions + VIII. Mr. Bullsom is Staggered + IX. Ghosts + X. A New Don Quixote + + PART III. + + I. An Aristocratic Recruit + II. Mr. Lavilette interferes + III. The Singular Behaviour of Mary Scott + IV. Lord Arranmore in a New Role + V. Lady Sybil lends a Hand + VI. The Reservation of Mary Scott + VII. Father and Son + VIII. The Advice of Mr. Bullsom + IX. A Question and an Answer + X. Lady Sybil says "Yes" + XI. Brooks hears the News + XII. The Prince of Sinners speaks out + + + + + +A Prince of Sinners + +PART I + +CHAPTER I + +MR. KINGSTON BROOKS, POLITICAL AGENT + +Already the sweepers were busy in the deserted hall, and the lights +burned low. Of the great audience who had filled the place only +half-an-hour ago not one remained. The echoes of their tumultuous +cheering seemed still to linger amongst the rafters, the dust which +their feet had raised hung about in a little cloud. But the long rows +of benches were empty, the sweepers moved ghostlike amongst the shadows, +and an old woman was throwing tealeaves here and there about the +platform. In the committee-room behind a little group of men were busy +with their leave-takings. The candidate, a tall, somewhat burly man, +with hard, shrewd face and loosely knit figure, was shaking hands with +every one. His tone and manner savoured still of the rostrum. + +"Good-night, sir! Good-night, Mr. Bullsom! A most excellent +introduction, yours, sir! You made my task positively easy. +Good-night, Mr. Brooks. A capital meeting, and everything very well +arranged. Personally I feel very much obliged to you, sir. If you +carry everything through as smoothly as this affair to-night, I can see +that we shall lose nothing by poor Morrison's breakdown. Good-night, +gentlemen, to all of you. We will meet at the club at eleven o'clock +to-morrow morning. Eleven o'clock precisely, if you please." + +The candidate went out to his carriage, and the others followed in twos +and threes. A young man, pale, with nervous mouth, strongly-marked +features and clear dark eyes, looked up from a sheaf of letters which he +was busy sorting. + +"Don't wait for me, Mr. Bullsom," he said. "Reynolds will let me out, +and I had better run through these letters before I leave." + +Mr. Bullsom was emphatic to the verge of gruffness. + +"You'll do nothing of the sort," he declared. "I tell you what it is, +Brooks. We're not going to let you knock yourself up. You're tackling +this job in rare style. I can tell you that Henslow is delighted." + +"I'm much obliged to you for saying so, Mr. Bullsom," the young man +answered. "Of course the work is strange to me, but it is very +interesting, and I don't mean to make a mess of it." + +"There is only one chance of your doing that," Mr. Bullsom rejoined, +"and that is if you overwork yourself. You need a bit of looking after. +You've got a rare head on your shoulders, and I'm proud to think that I +was the one to bring your name before the committee. But I'm jolly well +certain of one thing. You've done all the work a man ought to do in one +day. Now listen to me. Here's my carriage waiting, and you're going +straight home with me to have a bite and a glass of wine. We can't +afford to lose our second agent, and I can see what's the matter with +you. You're as pale as a ghost, and no wonder. You've been at it all +day and never a break." + +The young man called Brooks had not the energy to frame a refusal, which +he knew would be resented. He took down his overcoat, and stuffed the +letters into his pocket. + +"You're very good," he said. "I'll come up for an hour with pleasure." + +They passed out together into the street, and Mr. Bullsom opened the +door of his carriage. + +"In with you, young man," he exclaimed. "Home, George!" + +Kingston Brooks leaned back amongst the cushions with a little sigh of +relief. + +"This is very restful," he remarked. "We have certainly had a very busy +day. The inside of electioneering may be disenchanting, but it's jolly +hard work." + +Mr. Bullsom sat with clasped hands in front of him resting upon that +slight protuberance which denoted the advent of a stomach. He had +thrown away the cigar which he had lit in the committee-room. Mrs. +Bullsom did not approve of smoking in the covered wagonette, which she +frequently honoured with her presence. + +"There's nothing in the world worth having that hasn't to be worked for, +my boy," he declared, good-humoredly. + +"By other people!" Brooks remarked, smiling. + +"That's as it may be," Mr. Bullsom admitted. "To my mind that's where +the art of the thing comes in. Any fool can work, but it takes a shrewd +man to keep a lot of others working hard for him while he pockets the +oof himself." + +"I suppose," the younger man remarked, thoughtfully, "that you would +consider Mr. Henslow a shrewd man?" + +"Shrewd! Oh, Henslow's shrewd enough. There's no question about that!" + +"And honest?" + +Mr. Bullsom hesitated. He drew his hand down his stubbly grey beard. + +"Honest! Oh, yes, he's honest! You've no fault to find with him, eh?" + +"None whatever," Brooks hastened to say. "You see," he continued more +slowly, "I have never been really behind the scenes in this sort of +thing before, and Henslow has such a very earnest manner in speaking. +He talked to the working men last night as though his one desire in life +was to further the different radical schemes which we have on the +programme. Why, the tears were actually in his eyes when he spoke of +the Old Age Pension Bill. He told them over and over again that the +passing of that Bill was the one object of his political career. Then, +you know, there was the luncheon to-day--and I fancied that he was a +little flippant about the labour vote. It was perhaps only his way of +speaking." + +Mr. Bullsom smiled and rubbed the carriage window with the cuff of his +coat. He was very hungry. + +"Oh, well, a politician has to trim a little, you know," he remarked. +"Votes he must have, and Henslow has a very good idea how to get them. +Here we are, thank goodness." The carriage had turned up a short drive, +and deposited them before the door of a highly ornate villa. Mr. +Bullsom led the way indoors, and himself took charge of his guest's coat +and hat. Then he opened the door of the drawing-room. + +"Mrs. Bullsom and the girls," he remarked, urbanely, "will be delighted +to see you. Come in!" + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE BULLSOM FAMILY AT HOME + +There were fans upon the wall, and much bric-a-brac of Oriental shape +but Brummagem finish, a complete suite of drawing-room furniture, +incandescent lights of fierce brilliancy, and a pianola. Mrs. Peter +Bullsom, stout and shiny in black silk and a chatelaine, was dozing +peacefully in a chair, with the latest novel from the circulating +library in her lap; whilst her two daughters, in evening blouses, which +were somehow suggestive of the odd elevenpence, were engrossed in more +serious occupation. Louise, the elder, whose budding resemblance to her +mother was already a protection against the over-amorous youths of the +town, was reading a political speech in the Times. Selina, who had +sandy hair, a slight figure, and was considered by her family the +essence of refinement, was struggling with a volume of Cowper, who had +been recommended to her by a librarian with a sense of humour, as a poet +unlikely to bring a blush into her virginal cheeks. Mr. Bullsom +looked in upon his domestic circle with pardonable pride, and with a +little flourish introduced his guest. + +"Mrs. Bullsom," he said, "this is my young friend, Kingston Brooks. My +two daughters, sir, Louise and Selina." The ladies were gracious, but +had the air of being taken by surprise, which, considering Mr. +Bullsom's parting words a few hours ago, seemed strange. + +"We've had a great meeting," Mr. Bullsom remarked, sidling towards the +hearthrug, and with his thumbs already stealing towards the armholes of +his waistcoat, "a great meeting, my dears. Not that I am surprised! +Oh, no! As I said to Padgett, when he insisted that I should take the +chair, 'Padgett,' I said, 'mark my words, we're going to surprise the +town. Mr. Henslow may not be the most popular candidate we've ever +had, but he's on the right side, and those who think Radicalism has had +its day in Medchester will be amazed.' And so they have been. I've +dropped a few hints during my speeches at the ward meetings lately, and +Mr. Brooks, though he's new at the work, did his best, and I can tell +you the result was a marvel. The hall was packed--simply packed. When +I rose to speak there wasn't an empty place or chair to be seen." + +"Dear me!" Mrs. Bullsom remarked, affably. "Supper is quite ready, my +love." + +Mr. Bullsom abandoned his position precipitately, and his face +expressed his lively satisfaction. + +"Ah!" he exclaimed. "I was hoping that you would have a bite for me. +As I said to Mr. Brooks when I asked him to drop in with me, there's +sure to be something to eat. And I can tell you I'm about ready for +it." + +Brooks found an opportunity to speak almost for the first time. He was +standing between the two Misses Bullsom, and already they had approved +of him. He was distinctly of a different class from the casual visitors +whom their father was in the habit of introducing into the family +circle. + +"Mr. Bullsom was kind enough to take pity on an unfortunate bachelor," +he said, with a pleasant smile. "My landlady has few faults, but an +over-love of punctuality is one of them. By this time she and her +household are probably in bed. Our meeting lasted a long time." + +"If you will touch the bell, Peter," Mrs. Bullsom remarked, "Ann shall +dish up the supper." + +The young ladies exchanged shocked glances. "Dish up." What an +abominable phrase! They looked covertly at their guest, but his face +was imperturbable. + +"We think that we have been very considerate, Mr. Brooks," Selina +remarked, with an engaging smile. "We gave up our usual dinner this +evening as papa had to leave so early." + +Mr. Brooks smiled as he offered his arm to Mrs. Bullsom--a courtesy +which much embarrassed her. + +"I think," he said, "that we shall be able to show you some practical +appreciation of your thoughtfulness. I know nothing so stimulating to +the appetite as politics, and to-day we have been so busy that I missed +even my afternoon tea." + +"I'm sure that we are quite repaid for giving up our dinner," Selina +remarked, with a backward glance at the young man. "Oh, here you are at +last, Mary. I didn't hear you come in." + +"My niece, Miss Scott," Mr. Bullsom announced. "Now you know all the +family." + +A plainly-dressed girl with dark eyes and unusually pale cheeks returned +his greeting quietly, and followed them into the dining-room. Mrs. +Bullsom spread herself over her seat with a little sigh of relief. +Brooks gazed in silent wonder at the gilt-framed oleographs which hung +thick upon the walls, and Mr. Bullsom stood up to carve a joint of +beef. + +"Plain fare, Mr. Brooks, for plain people," he remarked, gently +elevating the sirloin on his fork, and determining upon a point of +attack. "We don't understand frills here, but we've a welcome for our +friends, and a hearty one." + +"If there is anything in the world better than roast beef," Brooks +remarked, unfolding his serviette, "I haven't found it." + +"There's one thing," Mr. Bullsom remarked, pausing for a moment in his +labours, "I can give you a good glass of wine. Ann, I think that if you +look in the right-hand drawer of the sideboard you will find a bottle of +champagne. If not I'll have to go down into the cellar." + +Ann, however, produced it--which, considering that Mr. Bullsom had +carefully placed it there a few hours ago, was not extraordinary--and +Brooks sipped the wine with inward tremors, justified by the result. + +"I suppose, Mr. Brooks," Selina remarked, turning towards him in an +engaging fashion, "that you are a great politician. I see your name so +much in the papers." + +Brooks smiled. + +"My political career," he answered, "dates from yesterday morning. I am +taking Mr. Morrison's place, you know, as agent for Mr. Henslow. I +have never done anything of the sort before, and I have scarcely any +claims to be considered a politician at all." + +"A very lucky change for us, Brooks," Mr. Bullsom declared, with the +burly familiarity which he considered justified by his position as +chairman of the Radical committee. "Poor Morrison was past the job. It +was partly through his muddling that we lost the seat at the last +election. I'd made up my mind to have a change this time, and so I told +'em." + +Brooks was tired of politics, and he looked across the table. This +pale girl with the tired eyes and self-contained manner interested him. +The difference, too, between her and the rest of the family was +puzzling. + +"I believe, Miss Scott," he said, "that I met you at the Stuarts' +dance." + +"I was there," she admitted. "I don't think I danced with you, but we +had supper at the same table." + +"I remember it perfectly," he said. "Wasn't it supposed to be a very +good dance?" + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"I believe so," she answered. "There was the usual fault--too many +girls. But it was very pretty to watch." + +"You do not care for dancing, yourself, perhaps?" he hazarded. + +"Indeed I do," she declared. "But I knew scarcely any one there. I see +a good deal of Kate sometimes, but the others I scarcely know at all." + +"You were in the same position as I was, then," he answered, smiling. + +"Oh, you--you are different," she remarked. "I mean that you are a man, +and at a dance that means everything. That is why I rather dislike +dances. We are too dependent upon you. If you would only let us dance +alone." + +Selina smiled in a superior manner. She would have given a good deal to +have been invited to the dance in question, but that was a matter which +she did not think it worth while to mention. + +"My dear Mary!" she said, "what an idea. I am quite sure that when you +go out with us you need never have any difficulty about partners." + +"Our programmes for the Liberal Club Dance and the County Cricket Ball +were full before we had been in the room five minutes," Louise +interposed. + +Mary smiled inwardly, but said nothing, and Brooks was quite sure then +that she was different. He realized too that her teeth were perfect, +and her complexion, notwithstanding its pallor, was faultless. She +would have been strikingly good-looking but for her mouth, and that--was +it a discontented or a supercilious curl? At any rate it disappeared +when she smiled. + +"May I ask whether you have been attending a political meeting this +evening, Miss Scott?" he asked. "You came in after us, I think." + +She shook her head. + +"No, I have a class on Wednesday evening." + +"A class!" he repeated, doubtfully. + +Mr. Bullsom, who thought he had been out of the conversation long +enough, interposed. + +"Mary calls herself a bit of a philanthropist, you see, Mr. Brooks," he +explained. "Goes down into Medchester and teaches factory girls to play +the piano on Wednesday evenings. Much good may it do them." + +There was a curious gleam in the girl's eyes for a moment which checked +the words on Brooks' lips, and led him to precipitately abandon the +conversation. But afterwards, while Selina was pedalling at the pianola +and playing havoc with the expression-stops, he crossed the room and +stood for a moment by her chair. + +"I should like you to tell me about your class," he said. "I have +several myself--of different sorts." + +She closed her magazine, but left her finger in the place. + +"Oh, mine is a very unambitious undertaking," she said. "Kate Stuart +and I started it for the girls in her father's factory, and we aim at +nothing higher than an attempt to direct their taste in fiction. They +bring their Free Library lists to us, and we mark them together. Then +we all read one more serious book at the same time--history or +biography--and talk about it when we meet." + +"It is an excellent idea," he said, earnestly. "By the bye, something +occurs to me. You know, or rather you don't know, that I give free +lectures on certain books or any simple literary subject on Wednesday +evenings at the Secular Hall when this electioneering isn't on. +Couldn't you bring your girls one evening? I would be guided in my +choice of a subject by you." + +"Yes, I should like that," she answered, "and I think the girls would. +It is very good of you to suggest it." + +Louise, with a great book under her arm, deposited her dumpy person in a +seat by his side, and looked up at him with a smile of engaging candour. + +"Mr. Brooks," she said, "I am going to do a terrible thing. I am going +to show you some of my sketches and ask your opinion." + +Brooks turned towards her without undue enthusiasm. + +"It is very good of you, Miss Bullsom," he said, doubtfully; "but I +never drew a straight line in my life, and I know nothing whatever about +perspective. My opinion would be worse than worthless." + +Louise giggled artlessly, and turned over the first few pages. + +"You men all say that at first," she declared, "and then you turn out +such terrible critics. I declare I'm afraid to show them to you, after +all." + +Brooks scarcely showed that desire to overcome her new resolution which +politeness demanded. But Selina came tripping across the room, and took +up her position on the other side of him. + +"You must show them now you've brought them out, Louise," she declared. +"I am sure that Mr. Brooks' advice will be most valuable. But mind, if +you dare to show mine, I'll tear them into pieces." + +"I wasn't going to, dear," Louise declared, a little tartly. "Shall I +begin at the beginning, Mr. Brooks, or--" + +"Oh, don't show those first few, dear," Selina exclaimed. "You know +they're not nearly so good as some of the others. That mill is all out +of drawing." + +Mary, who had been elbowed into the background, rose quietly and crossed +to the other end of the room. Brooks followed her for a moment with +regretful eyes. Her simple gown, with the little piece of ribbon around +her graceful neck, seemed almost distinguished by comparison with the +loud-patterned and dressier blouses of the two girls who had now hemmed +him in. For a moment he ignored the waiting pages. + +"Your cousin," he remarked, "is quite unlike any of you. Has she been +with you long?" + +Louise looked up a little tartly. + +"Oh, about three years. You are quite right when you say that she is +unlike any of us. It doesn't seem nice to complain about her exactly, +but she really is terribly trying, isn't she, Selina?" + +Selina nodded, and dropped her voice. + +"She is getting worse," she declared. "She is becoming a positive +trouble to us." + +Brooks endeavoured to look properly sympathetic, and considered himself +justified in pursuing the conversation. "Indeed! May I ask in what +way?" + +"Oh, she has such old-fashioned ideas," Louise said, confidentially. +"I've quite lost patience with her, and so has Selina; haven't you, +dear? She never goes to parties if she can help it, she is positively +rude to all our friends, and the sarcastic things she says sometimes are +most unpleasant. You know, papa is very, very good to her." + +"Yes, indeed," Selina interrupted. "You know, Mr. Brooks, she has no +father and mother, and she was living quite alone in London when papa +found her out and brought her here--and in the most abject poverty. I +believe he found her in a garret. Fancy that!" + +"And now," Louise continued, "he allows her for her clothes exactly the +same as he does us--and look at her. Would you believe it, now? She is +like that nearly every evening, although we have friends dropping in +continually. Of course I don't believe in extravagance, but if a girl +has relations who are generous enough to give her the means, I do think +that, for their sake, she ought to dress properly. I think that she +owes it to them, as well as to herself." + +"And out of doors it is positively worse," Selina whispered, +impressively. "I declare," she added, with a simper, "that although +nobody can say that I am proud, there are times when I am positively +ashamed to be seen out with her. What she does with her money I can't +imagine." + +Brooks, who was something of a critic in such matters, and had +recognized the art of her severely simple gown, smiled to himself. He +was wise enough, however, not to commit himself. + +"Perhaps," he suggested, "she thinks that absolute simplicity suits her +best. She has a nice figure." + +Selina tossed her much-beaded slipper impatiently. + +"Heaven only knows what Mary does think," she exclaimed, impatiently. + +"And Heaven only knows what I am to say about these," Brooks groaned +inwardly, as the sketch-book fell open before him at last, and its +contents were revealed to his astonished eyes. + + + +CHAPTER III + +KINGSTON BROOKS HAS A VISITOR + +Kingston Brooks was twenty-five years old, strong, nervous, and with a +strenuous desire to make his way so far as was humanly possible into the +heart of life. He was a young solicitor recently established in +Medchester, without friends save those he was now making, and absolutely +without interest of any sort. He had a small capital, and already the +beginnings of a practice. He had some sort of a reputation as a +speaker, and was well spoken of by those who had entrusted business to +him. Yet he was still fighting for a living when this piece of luck had +befallen him. Mr. Bullsom had entrusted a small case to him, and found +him capable and cheap. Amongst that worthy gentleman's chief +characteristics was a decided weakness for patronizing younger and less +successful men, and he went everywhere with Kingston Brooks' name on his +lips. Then came the election, and the sudden illness of Mr. Morrison, +who had always acted as agent for the Radical candidates for the +borough. Another agent had to be found. Several who would have been +suitable were unavailable. An urgent committee meeting was held, and +Mr. Bullsom at once called attention to an excellent little speech of +Kingston Brooks' at a ward meeting on the previous night. In an hour he +was closeted with the young lawyer, and the affair was settled. Brooks +knew that henceforth the material side of his career would be +comparatively easy sailing. + +He had accepted his good fortune with something of the same cheerful +philosophy with which he had seen difficulty loom up in his path a few +months ago. But to-night, on his way home from Mr. Bullsom's suburban +residence, a different mood possessed him. Usually a self-contained and +somewhat gravely minded person, to-night the blood went tingling through +his veins with a new and unaccustomed warmth. He carried himself +blithely, the cool night air was so grateful and sweet to him that he +had no mind even to smoke. There seemed to be no tangible reason for +the change. The political excitement, which a few weeks ago he had +begun to feel exhilarating, had for him decreased now that his share in +it lay behind the scenes, and he found himself wholly occupied with the +purely routine work of the election. Nor was there any sufficient +explanation to be found in the entertainment which he had felt himself +bound to accept at Mr. Bullsom's hands. Of the wine, which had been +only tolerable, he had drunk, as was his custom, sparingly, and of Mary +Scott, who had certainly interested him in a manner which the rest of +the family had not, he had after all seen but very little. He found +himself thinking with fervor of the desirable things in life, never had +the various tasks which he had set himself seemed so easy an +accomplishment, his own powers more real and alive. And beneath it all +he was conscious of a vague sense of excitement, a nervous dancing of +the blood, as though even now the time were at hand when he might find +himself in touch with some of the greater forces of life, all of which +he intended some day to realize. It was delightful after all to be +young and strong, to be stripped for the race in the morning of life, +when every indrawn breath seems sweet with the perfume of beautiful +things, and the heart is tuned to music. + +The fatigue of the day was wholly forgotten. He was surprised indeed +when he found himself in the little street where his rooms were. A +small brougham was standing at the corner, the liveries and horse of +which, though quiet enough, caused him a moment's surprise as being +superior to the ordinary equipages of the neighborhood. He passed on +to the sober-fronted house where he lived, and entering with his +latch-key made his way to his study. Immediately he entered he was +conscious of a man comfortably seated in his easy-chair, and apparently +engrossed in a magazine. + +He advanced towards him inquiringly, and his visitor, carefully setting +down the magazine, rose slowly to his feet. The young man's surprise at +finding his rooms occupied was increased by the appearance of his +visitor. He was apparently of more than middle age, with deeply-lined +face, tall, and with an expression the coldness of which was only +slightly mitigated by a sensitive mouth that seemed at once cynical and +humorous. He was of more than ordinary height, and dressed in the +plainest dinner garb of the day, but his dinner jacket, his black tie +and the set of his shirt were revelations to Brooks, who dealt only +with the Medchester tradespeople. He did not hold out his hand, but he +eyed Brooks with a sort of critical survey, which the latter found a +little disconcerting. + +"You wished to see me, sir?" Brooks asked. "My name is Kingston Brooks, +and these are my rooms." + +"So I understood," the new-comer replied imperturbably. "I called about +an hour ago, and took the liberty of awaiting your return." + +Brooks sat down. His vis-a-vis was calmly selecting a cigarette from a +capacious case. Brooks found himself offering a light and accepting a +cigarette himself, the flavour of which he at once appreciated. + +"Can I offer you a whisky-and-soda?" he inquired. + +"I thank you, no," was the quiet reply. + +There was a short pause. + +"You wished to see me on some business connected with the election, no +doubt?" Brooks suggested. + +His visitor shook his head slowly. He knocked the ash from his +cigarette and smiled whimsically. + +"My dear fellow," he said, "I haven't the least idea why I came to see +you this evening." + +Brooks felt that he had a right to be puzzled, and he looked it. But +his visitor was so evidently a gentleman and a person of account, that +the obvious rejoinder did not occur to him. He merely waited with +uplifted eyebrows. + +"Not the least idea," his visitor repeated, still smiling. "But at the +same time I fancy that before I leave you I shall find myself +explaining, or endeavouring to explain, not why I am here, but why I +have not visited you before. What do you think of that?" + +"I find it," Brooks answered, "enigmatic but interesting." + +"Exactly. Well, I hate talking, so my explanation will not be a tedious +one. Your name is Kingston Brooks." + +"Yes." + +"Your mother's name was Dorothy Kenneir. She was, before her marriage, +the matron of a home in the East End of London, and a lady devoted to +philanthropic work. Your father was a police-court missionary." + +Brooks was leaning a little forward in his chair. These things were +true enough. Who was his visitor? + +"Your father, through over-devotion to the philanthropic works in which +he was engaged, lost his reason temporarily, and on his partial recovery +I understand that the doctors considered him still to be mentally in a +very weak state. They ordered him a sea voyage. He left England on the +Corinthia fifteen years ago, and I believe that you heard nothing more +of him until you received the news of his death--probably ten years +back." + +"Yes! Ten years ago. + +"Your mother, I think, lived for only a few months after your father +left England. You found a guardian in Mr. Ascough of Lincoln's Inn +Fields. There my knowledge of your history ceases. + +"How do you know these things?" Brooks asked. + +"I was with your father when he died. It was I who wrote to you and +sent his effects to England." + +"You were there--in Canada?" + +"Yes. I had a dwelling within a dozen miles of where your father had +built his hut by the side of the great lake. He was the only other +Englishman within a hundred miles. So I was with him often." + +"It is wonderful--after all these years," Brooks exclaimed. "You were +there for sport, of course?" + +"For sport!" his visitor repeated in a colourless tone. + +"But my father--what led him there? Why did he cut himself off from +every one, send no word home, creep away into that lone country to die +by himself? It is horrible to think of." + +"Your father was not a communicative man. He spoke of his illness. I +always considered him as a person mentally shattered. He spent his days +alone, looking out across the lake or wandering in the woods. He had no +companions, of course, but there were always animals around him. He had +the look of a man who had suffered." + +"He was to have gone to Australia," Brooks said. "It was from there +that we expected news from him. I cannot see what possible reason he +had for changing his plans. There was no mystery about his life in +London. It was one splendid record of self-denial and devotion to what +he thought his duty." + +"From what he told me," his vis-a-vis continued, handing again his +cigarette-case, and looking steadily into the fire, "he seems to have +left England with the secret determination never to return. But why I +do not know. One thing is certain. His mental state was not altogether +healthy. His desire for solitude was almost a passion. Towards the +end, however, his mind was clear enough. He told me about your mother +and you, and he handed me all the papers, which I subsequently sent to +London. He spoke of no trouble, and his transition was quite peaceful." + +"It was a cruel ending," Brooks said, quietly. "There were people in +London whom he had befriended who would have worked their passage out +and faced any hardships to be with him. And my mother, notwithstanding +his desertion, believed in him to the last." + +There was a moment's intense silence. This visitor who had come so +strangely was to all appearance a man not easily to be moved. Yet +Brooks fancied that the long white fingers were trembling, and that the +strange quiet of his features was one of intense self-repression. His +tone when he spoke again, however, was clear, and almost indifferent. + +"I feel," he said, "that it would have been only decently courteous of +me to have sought you out before, although I have, as you see, nothing +whatever to add to the communications I sent you. But I have not been a +very long time in England, and I have a very evil habit of putting off +things concerning which there is no urgency. I called at Ascough's, and +learned that you were in practice in Medchester. I am now living for a +short time not far from here, and reading of the election, I drove in +to-night to attend one of the meetings--I scarcely cared which. I heard +your name, saw you on the platform, and called here, hoping to find +you." + +"It was very kind," Brooks said. + +He felt curiously tongue-tied. This sudden upheaval of a past which he +had never properly understood affected him strangely. + +"I gathered from Mr. Ascough that you were left sufficient means to pay +for your education, and also to start you in life," his visitor +continued. "Yours is considered to be an overcrowded profession, but I +am glad to understand that you seem likely to make your way." + +Brooks thanked him absently. + +"From your position on the platform to-night I gather that you are a +politician?" + +"Scarcely that," Brooks answered. "I was fortunate enough to be +appointed agent to Mr. Henslow owing to the illness of another man. It +will help me in my profession." + +The visitor rose to his feet. He stood with his hands behind him, +looking at the younger man. And Brooks suddenly remembered that he did +not even know his name. + +"You will forgive me," he said, also rising, "if I have seemed a little +dazed. I am very grateful to you for coming. I have always wanted more +than anything in the world to meet some one who saw my father after he +left England. There is so much which even now seems mysterious with +regard to his disappearance from the world." + +"I fear that you will never discover more than you have done from me," +was the quiet reply. "Your father had been living for years in profound +solitude when I found him. Frankly, I considered from the first that +his mind was unhinged. Therein I fancy lies the whole explanation of +his silence and his voluntary disappearance. I am assuming, of course, +that there was nothing in England to make his absence desirable." + +"There was nothing," Brooks declared with conviction. "That I can +personally vouch for. His life as a police-court missionary was the +life of a militant martyr's, the life of a saint. The urgent advice of +his physicians alone led him to embark upon that voyage; I see now that +it was a mistake. He left before he had sufficiently recovered to be +safely trusted alone. By the bye," Brooks continued, after a moment's +hesitation, "you have not told me your name, whom I have to thank for +this kindness. Your letters from Canada were not signed." + +There was a short silence. From outside came the sound of the pawing +of horses' feet and the jingling of harness. + +"I was a fellow-traveller in that great unpeopled world," the visitor +said, "and there was nothing but common humanity in anything I did. I +lived out there as Philip Ferringshaw, here I have to add my title, the +Marquis of Arranmore. I was a younger son in those days. If there is +anything which I have forgotten, I am at Enton for a month or so. It is +an easy walk from Medchester, if your clients can spare you for an +afternoon. Good-night, Mr. Brooks." + +He held out his hand. He was sleepy apparently, for his voice had +become almost a drawl, and he stifled a yawn as he passed along the +little passage. Kingston Brooks returned to his little room, and threw +himself back into his easy-chair. Truly this had been a wonderful day. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A QUESTION FOR THE COUNTRY + +For the first time in many years it seemed certain that the +Conservatives had lost their hold upon the country. The times were ripe +for a change of any sort. An ill-conducted and ruinous war had drained +the empire of its surplus wealth, and every known industry was suffering +from an almost paralyzing depression--Medchester, perhaps, as severely +as any town in the United Kingdom. Its staple manufactures were being +imported from the States and elsewhere at prices which the local +manufacturers declared to be ruinous. Many of the largest factories +were standing idle, a great majority of the remainder were being worked +at half or three-quarters time. Thoughtful men, looking ten years +ahead, saw the cloud, which even now was threatening enough, grow +blacker and blacker, and shuddered at the thought of the tempest which +before long must break over the land. Meanwhile, the streets were +filled with unemployed, whose demeanour day by day grew less and less +pacific. People asked one another helplessly what was being done to +avert the threatened crisis. The manufacturers, openly threatened by +their discharged employees, and cajoled by others higher in authority and +by public opinion, still pronounced themselves helpless to move without +the aid of legislation. For the first time for years Protection was +openly spoken of from a political platform. + +Henslow, a shrewd man and a politician of some years' standing, was one +of the first to read the signs of the times, and rightly to appreciate +them. He had just returned from a lengthened visit to the United +States, and what he had seen there he kept at first very much to +himself. But at a small committee meeting held when his election was +still a matter of doubt, he unbosomed himself at last to some effect. + +"The vote we want," he said, "is the vote of those people who are losing +their bread, and who see ruin and starvation coming in upon them. I +mean the middle-class manufacturers and the operatives who are dependent +upon them. I tell you where I think that as a nation we are going +wrong. We fixed once upon a great principle, and we nailed it to our +mast--for all time. That is a mistake. Absolute Free Trade, such as is +at present our national policy, was a magnificent principle in the days +of Cobden--but the times have changed. We must change with them. That +is where the typical Englishman fails. It is a matter of temperament. +He is too slow to adapt himself to changing circumstances." + +There was a moment's silence. These were ominous words. Every one felt +that they were not lightly spoken. Henslow had more behind. A +prominent manufacturer, Harrison by name, interposed from his place. + +"You are aware, Mr. Henslow," he said, "that many a man has lost an +assured seat for a more guarded speech than that. For generations even +a whisper of the sort has been counted heresy--especially from our +party." + +"Maybe," Henslow answered, "but I am reminded of this, Mr. Harrison. +The pioneers of every great social change have suffered throughout the +whole of history, but the man who has selected the proper moment and +struck hard, has never failed to win his reward. Now I am no novice in +politics, and I am going to make a prophecy. Years ago the two +political parties were readjusted on the Irish question. Every election +which was fought was simply on these lines--it was upon the principle of +Home Rule for Ireland, and the severance of that country from the United +Kingdom, or the maintenance of the Union. Good! Now, in more recent +times, the South African war and the realization of what our Colonies +could do for us has introduced a new factor. Those who have believed in +a doctrine of expansion have called themselves 'Imperialists,' and those +who have favoured less wide-reaching ideals, and perhaps more attention +to home matters, have been christened 'Little Englanders.' Many +elections have been fought out on these lines, if not between two men +absolutely at variance with one another on this question, still on the +matter of degree. Now, I am going to prophesy. I say that the next +readjustment of Parties, and the time is not far ahead, will be on the +tariff question, and I believe that the controversy on this matter, when +once the country has laid hold of it, will be the greatest political +event of this century. Listen, gentlemen. I do not speak without +having given this question careful and anxious thought, and I tell you +that I can see it coming." + +The committee meeting broke up at a late hour in the afternoon amidst +some excitement, and Mr. Bullsom walked back to his office with Brooks. +A fine rain was falling, and the two men were close together under one +umbrella. + +"What do you think of it, Brooks?" Bullsom asked anxiously. + +"To tell you the truth, I scarcely know," the younger answered. "Ten +years ago there could have been but one answer--to-day--well, look +there." + +The two men stood still for a moment. They were in the centre of the +town, at a spot from which the main thoroughfares radiated into the +suburbs and manufacturing centres. Everywhere the pavements and the +open space where a memorial tower stood were crowded with loiterers. +Men in long lines stood upon the kerbstones, their hands in their +pockets, watching, waiting--God knows for what. There were all sorts, +of course, the professional idlers and the drunkard were there, but the +others--there was no lack of them. There was no lack of men, +white-faced, dull-eyed, dejected, some of them actually with the brand of +starvation to be seen in their sunken cheeks and wasted limbs. No +wonder that the swing-doors of the public-houses, where there was light +and warmth inside, opened and shut continually. + +"Look," Brooks repeated, with a tremor in his tone. "There are +thousands and thousands of them--and all of them must have some sort of +a home to go to. Fancy it--one's womankind, perhaps children--and +nothing to take home to them. It's such an old story, that it sounds +hackneyed and commonplace. But God knows there's no other tragedy on +His earth like it." + +Mr. Bullsom was uncomfortable. + +"I've given a hundred pounds to the Unemployed Fund," he said. + +"It's money well spent if it had been a thousand," Brooks answered. +"Some day they may learn their strength, and they will not suffer then, +like brute animals, in silence. Look here. I'm going to speak to one +of them." + +He touched a tall youth on the shoulder. "Out of work, my lad?" he +asked. The youth turned surlily round. "Yes. Looks like it, don't +it?" + +"What are you?" Brooks asked. + +"Clicker." + +"Why did you leave your last place?" + +"Gaffer said he's no more orders--couldn't keep us on. The shop's shut +up. Know of a job, guv'nor?" he asked, with a momentary eagerness. +"I've two characters in my pocket--good 'uns." + +"You've tried to get a place elsewhere?" Brooks asked. + +"Tried? D'ye suppose I'm standing here for fun? I've tramped the +blessed town. I went to thirty factories yesterday, and forty to-day. +Know of a job, guv'nor? I'm not particular." + +"I wish I did," Brooks answered, simply. "Here's half-a-crown. Go to +that coffee-palace over there and get a meal. It's all I can do for +you." + +"Good for you, guv'nor," was the prompt answer. "I can treat my brother +on that. Here, Ned," he caught hold of a younger boy by the shoulder, +"hot coffee and eggs, you sinner. Come on." + +The two scurried off together. Brooks and his companion passed on. + +"It is just this," Brooks said, in a low tone, "just the thought of +these people makes me afraid, positively afraid to argue with Henslow. +You see--he may be right. I tell you that in a healthily-governed +country there should be work for every man who is able and willing to +work. And in England there isn't. Free Trade works out all right +logically, but it's one thing to see it all on paper, and it's another +to see this--here around us--and Medchester isn't the worst off by any +means." + +Bullsom was silent for several moments. + +"I tell you what it is, Brooks," he said. "I'll send another hundred to +the Unemployed Fund to-night." + +"It's generous of you, Mr. Bullsom," the young lawyer answered. +"You'll never regret it. But look here. There's a greater +responsibility even than feeding these poor fellows resting upon us +to-day. They don't want our charity. They've an equal right to live +with us. What they want, and what they have a right to, is just +legislation. That's where we come in. Politics isn't a huge joke, or +the vehicle for any one man's personal ambition. We who interest +ourselves, however remotely, in them, impose upon ourselves a great +obligation. We've got to find the truth. That's why I hesitate to say +anything against Henslow's new departure. We're off the track now. I +want to hear all that Henslow has to say. We must not neglect a single +chance whilst that terrible cry is ever in our ears." + +They parted at the tram terminus, Mr. Bullsom taking a car for his +suburban paradise. As usual, he was the centre of a little group of +acquaintances. + +"And how goes the election, Bullsom?" some one asked him. + +Mr. Bullsom was in no hurry to answer the question. He glanced round +the car, collecting the attention of those who might be supposed +interested. + +"I will answer that question better," he said, "after the mass meeting +on Saturday night. I think that Henslow's success or failure will +depend on that." + +"Got something up your sleeve, eh?" his first questioner remarked. + +"Maybe," Mr. Bullsom answered. "Maybe not. But apart from the +immediate matter of this election, I can tell you one thing, gentlemen, +which may interest you." + +He paused. One thumb stole towards the armhole of his waistcoat. He +liked to see these nightly companions of his hang upon his words. It +was a proper and gratifying tribute to his success as a man of affairs. + +"I have just left," he said, "our future Member." + +The significance of his speech was not immediately apparent. + +"Henslow! Oh, yes. Committee meeting this afternoon, wasn't it?" some +one remarked. + +"I do not mean Henslow," Mr. Bullsom replied. "I mean Kingston +Brooks." + +The desired sensation was apparent. + +"Why, he's your new agent, isn't he?" + +"Young fellow who plays cricket rather well." + +"Great golfer, they say!" + +"Makes a good speech, some one was saying." + +"Gives free lectures at the Secular Hall." "Rather a smart young +solicitor, they say!" + +Mr. Bullsom looked around him. + +"He is all these things, and he does all these things. He is one of +these youngsters who has the knack of doing everything well. Mark my +words, all of you. I gave him his first case of any importance, and I +got him this job as agent for Henslow. He's bound to rise. He's +ambitious, and he's got the brains. He'll be M.P. for this borough +before we know where we are." + +Half-a-dozen men of more or less importance made a mental note to nod to +Kingston Brooks next time they saw him, and Mr. Bullsom trudged up his +avenue with fresh schemes maturing in his mind. In the domestic circle +he further unburdened himself. + +"Mrs. Bullsom," he said, "I am thinking of giving a dinner-party. How +many people do we know better than ourselves?" + +Mrs. Bullsom was aghast, and the young ladies, Selina and Louise, who +were in the room, were indignant. + +"Really, papa," Selina exclaimed, "what do you mean?" + +"What I say," he answered, gruffly. "We're plain people, your mother +and I, at any rate, and when you come to reckon things up, I suppose +you'll admit that we're not much in the social way. There's plenty of +people living round us in a sight smaller houses who don't know us, and +wouldn't if they could--and I'm not so sure that it's altogether the +fault of your father and mother either, Selina," he added, breaking +ruthlessly in upon a sotto-voce remark of that young lady's. + +"Well, I never!" Selina exclaimed, tossing her head. + +"Come, come, I don't want no sauce from you girls," he added, drifting +towards the fireplace, and adopting a more assured tone as he reached +his favourite position. "I've reasons for wishing to have Mr. Kingston +Brooks here, and I'd like him to meet gentlefolk. Now, there's the +Vicar and his wife. Do you suppose they'd come?" + +"Well, I should like to know why not," Mrs. Bullsom remarked, laying +down her knitting, "when it's only three weeks ago you sent him ten +guineas for the curates' fund. Come indeed! They'd better." + +"Then there's Dr. Seventon," Mr. Bullsom continued, "and his wife. +Better drop him a line and tell him to look in and see me at the office. +I can invent something the matter with me, and I'd best drop him a hint. +They say Mrs. Seventon is exclusive. But I'll just let him know she's +got to come. Now, who else, girls?" + +"The Huntingdons might come--if they knew that it was this sort of an +affair," Selina remarked, thoughtfully. + +"And Mr. Seaton," Louise added. "I'm sure he's most gentlemanly." + +"I don't want gentlemanly people this time," Mr. Bullsom declared, "I +want gentle-people. That's all there is about it. I let you ask who +you like to the house, and give you what you want for subscriptions and +clothes and such-like. You've had a free 'and. Now let's see something +for it. Half-a-dozen couples'll be enough if you can't get more, but I +Won't have the Nortons, or the Marvises, or any of that podgy set. You +understand that? And, first of all, you, Selina, had better write to +Mr. Brooks and ask him to dine with us in a friendly way one night the +week after next, when the election is over and done with." + +"In a friendly way, pa?" Selina repeated, doubtfully. "But we can't ask +these other people whom we know so slightly like that--and, besides, Mr. +Brooks might not dress if we put it like that." + +"A nice lot you know about gentle-people and their ways," Mr. Bullsom +remarked, with scorn. "A young fellow like Brooks would tog himself out +for dinner all right even if we were alone, as long as there were ladies +there. And as for the dinner, you don't suppose I'm such a mug as to +leave that to Ann. I shall go to the Queen's Hotel, and have 'em send a +cook and waiters, and run the whole show. Don't know that I shan't send +to London. You get the people! I'll feed 'em!" + +"Do as your father says, Selina," Mrs. Bullsom said, mildly. "I'm sure +he's very considerate." + +"Where's Mary?" Mr. Bullsom inquired. "This is a bit in her line." + +Selina tossed her head. + +"I'm sure I don't know why you should say that, papa," she declared. +"Mary knows nothing about society, and she has no friends who would be +the least use to us." + +"Where is she, anyway?" Mr. Bullsom demanded. No one knew. As a matter +of fact she was having tea with Kingston Brooks. + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE MARQUIS OF ARRANMORE + +They had met almost on the steps of his office, and only a few minutes +after he had left Mr. Bullsom. Brooks was attracted first by a certain +sense of familiarity with the trim, well-balanced figure, and +immediately afterwards she raised her eyes to his in passing. He +wheeled sharply round, and held out his hand. + +"Miss Scott, isn't it? Do you know I have just left your uncle?" + +She smiled a little absently. She looked tired, and her boots and skirt +were splashed as though with much walking. + +"Indeed! I suppose you see a good deal of him just now while the +election is on?" + +"I must make myself a perfect nuisance to him," Brooks admitted. "You +see the work is all new to me, and he has been through it many times +before. Are you just going home?" + +She nodded. + +"I have been out since two o'clock," she said. + +"And you are almost wet through, and quite tired out," he said. "Look +here. Come across to Mellor's and have some tea with me, and I will put +you in a car afterwards." + +She hesitated--and he led the way across the Street, giving her no +opportunity to frame a refusal. The little tea-place was warm and cosy. +He found a comfortable corner, and took her wet umbrella and cape away. + +"I believe," he said, sitting down opposite her, "that I have saved your +life." + +"Then I am not sure," she answered, "that I feel grateful to you. I +ought to have warned you that I am not in the least likely to be a +cheerful companion. I have had a most depressing afternoon." + +"You have been to your tailor's," he suggested, "and your new gown is a +failure--or is it even worse than that?" + +She laughed dubiously. Then the tea was brought, and for a moment their +conversation was interrupted. He thought her very graceful as she bent +forward and busied herself attending to his wants. Her affinity to +Selina and Louise was undistinguishable. It was true that she was pale, +but it was the pallor of refinement, the student's absence of colour +rather than the pallor of ill-health. + +"Mr. Brooks," she said, presently, "you are busy with this election, +and you are brought constantly into touch with all classes of people. +Can you tell me why it is that it is so hard just now for poor people to +get work? Is it true, what they tell me, that many of the factories in +Medchester are closed, and many of those that are open are only working +half and three-quarter time?" + +"I am afraid that it is quite true, Miss Scott," he answered. "As for +the first part of your question, it is very hard to answer. There seem +to be so many causes at work just now. + +"But it is the work of the politician surely to analyze these causes. + +"It should be," he answered. "Tell me what has brought this into your +mind." + +"Some of the girls in our class," she said, "are out of work, and those +who have anything to do seem to be working themselves almost to death to +keep their parents or somebody dependent upon them. Two of them I am +anxious about. I have been trying to find them this afternoon. I have +heard things, Mr. Brooks, which have made me ashamed--sick at +heart--ashamed to go home and think how we live, while they die. And +these girls--they have known so much misery. I am afraid of what may +happen to them." + +"These girls are mostly boot and shoe machinists, are they not?" + +"Yes. But even Mr. Stuart says that he cannot find them work." + +"It is only this afternoon that we have all been discussing this +matter," he said, gravely. "It is serious enough, God knows. The +manufacturer tells us that he is suffering from American +competition--here and in the Colonies. He tells us that the workpeople +themselves are largely to blame, that their trades unions restrict them +to such an extent that he is hopelessly handicapped from the start. But +there are other causes. There is a terrible wave of depression all +through the country. The working classes have no money to spend. Every +industry is flagging, and every industry seems threatened with +competition from abroad. Do you understand the principles of Free Trade +at all?" + +"Not in the least. I wish I did." + +"Some day we must have a talk about it. Henslow has made a very daring +suggestion to-day. He has given us all plenty to think about. We are +all agreed upon one thing. The crisis is fast approaching, and it must +be faced. These people have the right to live, and they have the right +to demand that legislation should interfere on their behalf." + +She sighed. + +"It is a comfort to hear you talk like this," she said. "To me it seems +almost maddening to see so much suffering, so many people suffering, not +only physically, but being dragged down into a lower moral state by +sheer force of circumstances and their surroundings, and all the time we +educated people go on our way and live our lives, as though nothing were +happening--as though we had no responsibility whatever for the holocaust +of misery at our doors. So few people stop to think. They won't +understand. It is so easy to put things behind one." + +"Come," he said, cheerfully, "you and I, at least, are not amongst +those. And there is a certain duty which we owe to ourselves, too, as +well as to others--to look upon the brighter side of things. Let us +talk about something less depressing." + +"You shall tell me," she suggested, "who is going to win the election." + +"Henslow!" he answered, promptly. + +"Owing, I suppose--" + +"To his agent, of course. You may laugh, Miss Scott, but I can assure +you that my duties are no sinecure. I never knew what work was before." + +"Too much work," she said, "is better than too little. After all, more +people die of the latter than the former." + +"Nature meant me," he said, "for a hazy man. I have all the +qualifications for a first-class idler. And circumstances and the +misfortune of my opinions are going to keep me going at express speed +all my life. I can see it coming. Sometimes it makes me shudder." + +"You are too young," she remarked, "to shrink from work. I have no +sympathy to offer you." + +"I begin to fear, Miss Scott," he said, "that you are not what is called +sympathetic." + +She smiled--and the smile broke into a laugh, as though some transient +idea rather than his words had pleased her. + +"You should apply to my cousin Selina for that," she said. "Every one +calls her most delightfully sympathetic." + +"Sympathy," he remarked, "is either a heaven-sent joy--or a bore. It +depends upon the individual." + +"That is either enigmatical or rude," she answered. "But, after all, +you don't know Selina." + +"Why not?" he asked. "I have talked with her as long as with you--and I +feel that I know you quite well." + +"I can't be responsible for your feelings," she said, a little +brusquely, "but I'm quite sure that I don't know you well enough to be +sitting here at tea with you even." + +"I won't admit that," he answered, "but it was very nice of you to come. + +"The fact of it was," she admitted, "my headache and appetite were +stronger than my sense of the conventions. Now that the former are +dissipated the latter are beginning to assert themselves. And so--" + +She began to draw on her gloves. Just then a carriage with postilions +and ladies with luggage came clattering up the street. She watched it +with darkening face. + +"That is the sort of man I detest," she said, motioning her head towards +the window. "You know whose carriage it is, don't you?" + +He shook his head. + +"No, I did not know that any one round here drove with positions." + +"It is the Marquis of Arranmore. He has a place at Enton, I believe, +but he is only here for a few months in the year." + +Brooks started and leaned eagerly forward. + +"Why do you hate him?" he asked. "What has he done?" + +"Didn't you hear how he treated the Mayor when he went out for a +subscription to the Unemployed Fund?" + +Brooks shook his head. + +"No! I have heard nothing." + +"Poor old Mr. Wensome went out all that way purposely to see him. He +was kept waiting an hour, and then when he explained his errand the +Marquis laughed at him. 'My dear fellow,' he said, 'the poor people of +Medchester do not interest me in the least. I do not go to the people +who are better off than I am and ask them to help support me, nor do I +see the least reason why those who are worse off than I am should expect +me to support them.' Mr. Wensome tried to appeal to his humanity, and +the brute only continued to laugh in a cynical way. He declared that +poor people did not interest him. His tenants he was prepared to look +after--outside his own property he didn't care a snap of the fingers +whether people lived or died. Mr. Wensome said it was perfectly awful +to hear him talk, and he came away without a penny. Yet his property in +this country alone is worth fifty thousand a year. + +"It is very surprising," Brooks said, thoughtfully. "The more +surprising because I know of a kind action which he once did." + +"Sh! they're coming here!" she exclaimed. "That is the Marquis." + +The omnibus had pulled up outside. A tall footman threw open the door, +and held an umbrella over the two ladies who had descended. The Marquis +and two other men followed. They trooped into the little place, +bringing with them a strange flavour of another world. The women wore +wonderful furs, and one who had ermine around her neck wore a great +bunch of Neapolitan violets, whose perfume seemed to fill the room. + +"This is a delightful idea," the taller one said, turning towards her +host. "An eight-mile drive before tea sounded appalling. Where shall +we sit, and may we have muffins?" + +"There is nothing about your youth, Lady Sybil, which I envy more than +your digestion," he answered, motioning them towards a table. "To be +able to eat muffins with plenty of butter would be unalloyed bliss. +Nevertheless, you shall have them. No one has ever called me selfish. +Let us have tea, and toast, and bread-and-butter and cakes, and a great +many muffins, please, young lady," he ordered. "And will you send out +some tea to my servants, please? It will save them from trying to +obtain drinks from the hotel next door, and ensure us a safe drive +home." + +"And don't forget to send out for that pack of cards, Arranmore," the +elder lady said. "We are going to play bridge driving home with that +wonderful little electric lamp of yours. + +"I will not forget," he promised. "We are to be partners, you know." + +He was on the point of sitting down when he saw Brooks at the next +table. He held out his hand. + +"How do you do, Mr. Brooks?" he said. "I am glad to see that you are +going to get your man in. + +"Thank you," Brooks answered, rising and waiting for his companion, who +was buttoning her gloves. "I was afraid that your sympathies would be +on the other side." + +"Dear me, no," the Marquis answered. "My enemies would tell you that I +have neither sympathy nor politics, but I assure you that at heart I am +a most devout Radical. I have a vote, too, and you may count upon me. + +"I am very glad to hear it," Brooks answered. "Shall I put you down on +the list 'to be fetched'?" + +The Marquis laughed. + +"I'll come without," he declared. "I promise. Just remind me of the +day." + +He glanced towards Mary Scott, and for a moment seemed about to include +her in some forthcoming remark. But whatever it might have been--it was +never made. She kept her eyes averted, and though her self-possession +was absolutely unruffled she hastened her departure. "I am not hurrying +you, Mr. Brooks?" she asked. "Not in the least," he assured her. + +He raised his hat to the Marquis and his party, and the former nodded +good-humouredly. There was silence until the two were in the street. +Then one of the men who had been looking after them dropped his +eye-glass. + +"I tell you what," he said to his vis-a-vis. "There's some chance for +us in Medchester after all. I don't believe Arranmore is popular +amongst the ladies of his own neighbourhood." + +The Marquis laughed softly. + +"She has a nice face," he remarked, "and I should imagine excellent +perceptions. Curiously enough, too, she reminded me of some one who has +every reason to hate me. But to the best of my belief I never saw her +before in my life. Lady Caroom, that weird-looking object in front of +you is a teapot--and those are teacups. May I suggest a use for them?" + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE MAN WHO WENT TO HELL + +The Hon. Sydney Chester Molyneux stood with his cue in one hand, and an +open telegram in the other, in the billiard-room at Enton. He was +visibly annoyed. + +"Beastly hard luck," he declared. "Parliament is a shocking grind +anyway. It isn't that one ever does anything, you know, but one wastes +such a lot of time when one might have been doing something worth +while." + +"Do repeat that, Sydney," Lady Caroom begged, laying down her novel for +a moment. "It really sounds as though it ought to mean something." + +"I couldn't!" he admitted. "I wish to cultivate a reputation for +originality, and my first object is to forget everything I have said +directly I have said it, in case I should repeat myself." + +"A short memory," Arranmore remarked, "is a politician's most valuable +possession, isn't it?" + +"No memory at all is better," Molyneux answered. + +"And your telegram?" Lady Caroom asked. + +"Is from my indefatigable uncle," Molyneux groaned. "He insists upon it +that I interest myself in the election here, which means that I must go +in to-morrow and call upon Rochester." + +The younger girl looked up from her chair, and laughed softly. + +"You will have to speak for him," she said. "How interesting! We will +all come in and hear you." + +Molyneux missed an easy cannon, and laid down his cue with an aggrieved +air. + +"It is all very well for you," he remarked, dismally, "but it is a +horrible grind for me. I have just succeeded in forgetting all that we +did last session, and our programme for next. Now I've got to wade +through it all. I wonder why on earth Providence selected for me an +uncle who thinks it worth while to be a Cabinet Minister?" + +Sybil Caroom shrugged her shoulders. + +"I wonder why on earth," she remarked, "any constituency thinks it worth +while to be represented by such a politician as you. How did you get +in, Sydney?" + +"Don't know," he answered. "I was on the right side, and I talked the +usual rot." + +"For myself," she said, "I like a politician who is in earnest. They +are more amusing, and more impressive in every way. Who was the young +man you spoke to in that little place where we had tea?" she asked her +host. + +"His name is Kingston Brooks," Arranmore answered. "He is the agent for +Henslow, the Radical candidate." + +"Well, I liked him," she said. "If I had a vote I would let him convert +me to Radicalism. I am sure that he could do it." + +"He shall try--if you like," Arranmore remarked. + +I am going to ask him to shoot one day." + +"I am delighted to hear it," the girl answered. "I think he would be a +wholesome change. You are all too flippant here." + +The door opened. Mr. Hennibul, K.C., inserted his head and shoulders. + +"I have been to look at Arranmore's golf-links," he remarked. "They are +quite decent. Will some one come and play a round?" + +"I will come," Sybil declared, putting down her book. + +"And I," Molyneux joined in. "Hennibul can play our best ball." + +Lady Caroom and her host were left alone. He came over to her side. + +"What can I do to entertain your ladyship?" he asked, lightly. "Will +you play billiards, walk or drive? There is an hour before lunch which +must be charmed away." + +"I am not energetic," she declared. "I ought to walk for the sake of my +figure. I'm getting shockingly stout. Marie made me promise to walk a +mile to-day. But I'm feeling deliciously lazy." + +"/Embonpoint/ is the fashion," he remarked, "and you are inches short of +even that yet. Come and sit in the study while I write some letters." +She held out her hands. + +"Pull me up, then! I am much too comfortable to move unaided." + +She sprang to her feet lightly enough, and for a moment he kept her +hands, which rested willingly enough in his. They looked at one another +in silence. Then she laughed. + +"My dear Arranmore," she protested, "I am not made up half carefully +enough to stand such a critical survey by daylight. Your north windows +are too terrible." + +"Not to you, dear lady," he answered, smiling. "I was wondering whether +it was possible that you could be forty-one." + +"You brute," she exclaimed, with uplifted eyebrows. "How dare you? +Forty if you like--for as long as you like. Forty is the fashionable +age, but one year over that is fatal. Don't you know that now-a-days a +woman goes straight from forty to sixty? It is such a delicious long +rest. And besides, it gives a woman an object in life which she has +probably been groping about for all her days. One is never bored after +forty." + +"And the object?" + +"To keep young, of course. There's scope for any amount of ingenuity. +Since that dear man in Paris has hit upon the real secret of enamelling, +we are thinking of extending the limit to sixty-five. Lily Cestigan is +seventy-one, you know, and she told me only last week that Mat +Harlowe--you know Harlowe, he's rather a nice boy, in the Guards had +asked her to run away with him. She's known him three months, and he's +seen her at least three times by daylight. She's delighted about it." + +"And is she going?" Arranmore asked. + +"Well, I'm not sure that she'd care to risk that," Lady Caroom answered, +thoughtfully. "She told him she'd think about it, and, meanwhile, he's +just as devoted as ever." + +They crossed the great stone hall together--the hall which, with its +wonderful pillars and carved dome, made Enton the show-house of the +county. Arranmore's study was a small octagonal room leading out from +the library. A fire of cedar logs was burning in an open grate, and he +wheeled up an easy-chair for her close to his writing-table. + +"I wonder," she remarked, thoughtfully, "what you think of Syd +Molyneux?" + +"Is there anything--to be thought about him?" he answered, lighting a +cigarette. + +"He's rather that way, isn't he?" she assented. "I mean for Sybil, you +know." + +"I should let Sybil decide," he answered. + +"She probably will," Lady Caroom said. "Still, she's horribly bored at +having to be dragged about to places, you know, and that sort of thing, +just because she isn't married, and she likes Syd all right. He's no +fool!" + +"I suppose not," Arranmore answered. "He's of a type, you know, which +has sprung up during my--absence from civilization. You want to grow up +with it to appreciate it properly. I don't think he's good enough for +Sybil." + +Lady Caroom sighed. + +"Sybil's a dear girl," she said, "although she's a terrible nuisance to +me. I shouldn't be at all surprised either if she developed views. I +wish you were a marrying man, Arranmore. I used to think of you myself +once, but you would be too old for me now. You're exactly the right age +for Sybil." + +Arranmore smiled. He had quite forgotten his letters. Lady Caroom +always amused him so well. + +"She is very like what you were at her age," he remarked. "What a pity +it was that I was such a poverty-stricken beggar in those days. I am +sure that I should have married you." + +"Now I am beginning to like you," she declared, settling down more +comfortably in her chair. "If you can keep up like that we shall be +getting positively sentimental presently, and if there's anything I +adore in this world--especially before luncheon--it is sentiment. Do +you remember we used to waltz together, Arranmore?" + +"You gave me a glove one night," he said. "I have it still." + +"And you pressed my hand--and--it was in the Setons' conservatory--how +bold you were." + +"And the next day," he declared, in an aggrieved tone, "I heard that you +were engaged to Caroom. You treated me shamefully." + +"These reminiscences," she declared, "are really sweet, but you are most +ungrateful. I was really almost too kind to you. They were all +fearfully anxious to get me married, because Dumesnil always used to say +that my complexion would give out in a year or two, and I wasted no end +of time upon you, who were perfectly hopeless as a husband. After all, +though, I believe it paid. It used to annoy Caroom so much, and I +believe he proposed to me long before he meant to so as to get rid of +you." + +"I," Arranmore remarked, "was the victim." + +She sat up with eyes suddenly bright. + +"Upon my word," she declared, "I have an idea. It is the most charming +and flattering thing, and it never occurred to me before. After all, it +was not eccentricity which caused you to throw up your work at the +Bar--and disappear. It was your hopeless devotion to me. Don't +disappoint me now by denying it. Please don't! It was the announcement +of my engagement, wasn't it?" + +"And it has taken you all these years to find it out? + +"I was shockingly obtuse," she murmured. "The thing came to me just now +as a revelation. Poor, dear man, how you must have suffered. This puts +us on a different footing altogether, doesn't it?" "Altogether," he +admitted. + +"And," she continued, eyeing him now with a sudden nervousness, +"emboldens me to ask you a question which I have been dying to ask you +for the last few years. I wonder whether you will answer it." + +"I wonder!" he repeated. + +A change in him, too, was noticeable. That wonderful impassivity of +feature which never even in his lighter moments passed altogether away, +seemed to deepen every line in his hard, clear-cut face. His mouth was +close drawn, his eyes were suddenly colder and expressionless. There +was about him at such times as--these an almost repellent hardness. His +emotions, and the man himself, seemed frozen. Lady Caroom had seen him +look like it once before, and she sighed. Nevertheless, she persevered. + +"For nearly twenty years," she said, "you disappeared. You were +reported at different times to be in every quarter of the earth, from +Zambesia to Pekin. But no one knew, and, of course, in a season or two +you were forgotten. I always wondered, I am wondering now, where were +you? What did you do with yourself? + +"I went down into Hell," he answered. "Can't you see the marks of it in +my face? For many years I lived in Hell--for many years." + +"You puzzle me," she said, in a low tone. "You had no taste for +dissipation. You look as though life had scorched you up at some time +or other. But how? where? You were found in Canada, I know, when your +brother died. But you had only been there for a few years. Before +then?" + +"Ay! Before then?" + +There was a short silence. Then Arranmore, who had been gazing steadily +into the fire, looked up. She fancied that his eyes were softer. + +"Dear friend," he said, "of those days I have nothing to tell--even you. +But there are more awful things even than moral degeneration. You do me +justice when you impute that I never ate from the trough. But what I +did, and where I lived, I do not think that I shall ever willingly tell +any one." + +A piece of burning wood fell upon the hearthstone. He stooped and +picked it up, placed it carefully in its place, and busied himself for a +moment or two with the little brass poker. Then he straightened +himself. + +"Catherine," he said, "I think if I were you that I would not marry +Sybil to Molyneux. It struck me to-day that his eyeglass-chain was of +last year's pattern, and I am not sure that he is sound on the subject +of collars. You know how important these things are to a young man who +has to make his own way in the world. Perhaps, I am not sure, but I +think it is very likely I might be able to find a husband for her." + +"You dear man," Lady Caroom murmured. "I should rely upon your taste +and judgment so thoroughly." + +There was a discreet knock at the door. A servant entered with a card. + +Arranmore took it up, and retained it in his fingers. + +"Tell Mr. Brooks," he said, "that I will be with him in a moment. If +he has ridden over, ask him to take some refreshment." + +"You have a visitor," Lady Caroom said, rising. "If you will excuse me +I will go and lie down until luncheon-time, and let my maid touch me up. +These sentimental conversations are so harrowing. I feel a perfect +wreck." + +She glided from the room, graceful, brisk and charming, the most +wonderful woman in England, as the Society papers were never tired of +calling her. Arranmore glanced once more at the card between his +fingers. + +"Mr. Kingston Brooks." + +He stood for a few seconds, motionless. Then he rang the bell. + +"Show Mr. Brooks in here," he directed. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A THOUSAND POUNDS + +Brooks had ridden a bicycle from Medchester, and his trousers and boots +were splashed with mud. His presence at Enton was due to an impulse, +the inspiration of which he had already begun seriously to doubt. +Arranmore's kindly reception of him was more than ordinarily welcome. + +"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Brooks," he said, holding out his hand. +"How comes it that you are able to take even so short a holiday as this? +I pictured you surrounded by canvassers and bill-posters and +journalists, all clamouring for your ear." + +Brooks laughed, completely at his ease now, thanks to the unspoken +cordiality of the other man. He took the easy-chair which the servant +had noiselessly wheeled up to him. + +"I am afraid that you exaggerate my importance,--Lord Arranmore," he +said. "I was very busy early this morning, and I shall be again after +four. But I am allowed a little respite now and then." + +"You spend it very sensibly out of doors," Arranmore remarked. "How did +you get here?" + +"I cycled," Brooks answered. "It was very pleasant, but muddy." + +"What will you have?" Lord Arranmore asked. "Some wine and biscuits, or +something of that sort?" + +His hand was upon the bell, but Brooks stopped him. + +"Nothing at all, thank you, just now." + + +"Luncheon will be served in half-an-hour," the Marquis said. "You will +prefer to wait until then?" + +"I am much obliged to you," Brooks answered, "but I must be getting back +to Medchester as soon as possible. Besides," he added, with a smile, "I +am afraid when I have spoken of the object of my visit you may feel +inclined to kick me out." + +"I hope not," Arranmore replied, lightly. "I was hoping that your visit +had no object at all, and that you had been good enough just to look me +up. + +"I should not have intruded without a purpose," Brooks said, quietly, +"but you will be almost justified in treating my visit as an +impertinence when I have disclosed my errand. Lord Arranmore, I am the +secretary for the fund which is being raised in Medchester for the +relief of the Unemployed." + +Arranmore nodded. + +"Oh, yes," he said. "I had a visit a few days ago from a worthy +Medchester gentleman connected with it." + +"It is concerning that visit, Lord Arranmore, that I have come to see +you," Brooks continued, quietly. "I only heard of it yesterday +afternoon, but this morning it seems to me that every one whom I have +met has alluded to it." + +The Marquis was lounging against the broad mantelpiece. Some part of +the cordiality of his manner had vanished. + +"Well?" + +"Lord Arranmore, I wondered whether it was not possible that some +mistake had been made," Brooks said. "I wondered whether Mr. Wensome +had altogether understood you properly--" + +"I did my best to be explicit," the Marquis murmured. + +"Or whether you had misunderstood him," Brooks continued, doggedly. +"This fund has become absolutely necessary unless we wish to see the +people starve in the streets. There are between six and seven thousand +operatives and artisans in Medchester to-day who are without work +through no fault of their own. It is our duty as citizens to do our +best for them. Nearly every one in Medchester has contributed according +to their means. You are a large property-owner in the town. Cannot you +consider this appeal as an unenforced rate? It comes to that in the +long run." + +The Marquis shrugged his shoulders. + +"I think," he said, "that on the subject of charity Englishmen generally +wholly misapprehend the situation. You say that between six and seven +thousand men are out of work in Medchester. Very well, I affirm that +there must be a cause for that. If you are a philanthropist it is your +duty to at once investigate the economic and political reasons for such +a state of things, and alter them. By going about and collecting money +for these people you commit what is little short of a crime. You must +know the demoralizing effect of charity. No man who has ever received a +dole is ever again an independent person. Besides that, you are +diverting the public mind from the real point of issue, which is not +that so many thousand people are hungry, but that a flaw exists in the +administration of the laws of the country so grave that a certain number +of thousands of people who have a God-sent right to productive labour +haven't got it. Do you follow me?" + +"Perfectly," Brooks answered. "You did not talk like this to Mr. +Wensome." + +"I admit it. He was an ignorant man in whom I felt no interest +whatever, and I did not take the trouble. Besides, I will frankly admit +that I am in no sense of the word a sentimentalist. The distresses of +other people do not interest me particularly. I have been poor myself, +and I never asked for, nor was offered, any sort of help. Consequently +I feel very little responsibility concerning these unfortunate people, +whose cause you have espoused." + +"May I revert to your first argument?" Brooks said. "If you saw a man +drowning then, instead of trying to save him you would subscribe towards +a fund to teach people to swim?" + +"That is ingenious," Lord Arranmore replied, smiling grimly, "but it +doesn't interest me. If I saw a man drowning I shouldn't think of +interfering unless the loss of that man brought inconvenience or loss to +myself. If it did I should endeavour to save him--not unless. As for +the fund you speak of, I should not think of subscribing to it. It +would not interest me to know that other people were provided with a +safeguard against drowning. I should probably spend the money in +perfecting myself in the art of swimming. Don't you see that no man who +has ever received help from another is exactly in the same position +again? As an individual he is a weaker creature. That is where I +disagree with nearly every existing form of charity. They are wrong in +principle. They are a debauchment." + +"Your views, Lord Arranmore," Brooks said, "are excellent for a model +world. For practical purposes I think they are a little pedantic. You +are quite right in your idea that charity is a great danger. I can +assure you that we are trying to realize that in Medchester. We ask for +money, and we dispense it unwillingly, but as a necessary evil. And we +are trying to earnestly see where our social system is at fault, and to +readjust it. But meanwhile, men and women and children even are +starving. We must help them." + +"That is where you are wholly wrong, and where you retard all progress," +Arranmore remarked. "Can't you see that you are continually plugging up +dangerous leaks with putty instead of lead? You muffle the cry which +but for you must ring through the land, and make itself heard to every +one. Let the people starve who are without means. Legislation would +stir itself fast enough then. It is the only way. Charity to +individuals is poison to the multitude. You create the criminal classes +with your charities, you blindfold statesmen and mislead political +economists. I tell you that the more you give away the more distress +you create." + +Brooks rose from his seat. + +"Charity is older than nations or history, Lord Arranmore," he said, +"and I am foolish enough to think that the world is a better place for +it. Your reasoning is very excellent, but life has not yet become an +exact science. The weaknesses of men and women have to be considered. +You have probably never seen a starving person." + +Lord Arranmore laughed, and Brooks looked across the room at him in +amazement. The Marquis was always pale, but his pallor just then was as +unnatural as the laugh itself. + +"My dear young man," he said, "if I could show you what I have seen your +hair would turn grey, and your wits go wandering. Do you think that I +know nothing of life save its crust? I tell you that I have been down +in the depths, aye, single-handed, there in the devil's own cauldron, +where creatures in the shape of men and women, the very sight of whom +would turn you sick with horror, creep like spawn through life, +brainless and soulless, foul things who would murder one another for the +sake of a crust, or--Bah! What horrible memories." + +He broke off abruptly. When he spoke again his tone was as usual. + +"Come," he said, "I mustn't let you have this journey for nothing. +After all, the only luxury in having principles is in the departing from +them. I will give you a cheque, Mr. Brooks, only I beg you to think +over what I have said. Abandon this doling principle as soon as it is +possible. Give your serious attention to the social questions and +imperfect laws which are at the back of all this distress." + +Brooks felt as though he had been awakened from a nightmare. He never +forgot that single moment of revelation on the part of the man who sat +now smiling and debonair before his writing-table. + +"You are very kind indeed, Lord Arranmore," he said. "I can assure you +that the money will be most carefully used, and amongst my party, at any +rate, we do really appreciate the necessity for going to the root of the +matter." + +Arranmore's pen went scratching across the paper. He tore out a cheque, +and placing it in an envelope, handed it to Brooks. + +"I noticed," he remarked, thoughtfully, "that a good many people coming +out of the factories hissed my carriage in Medchester last time I was +there. I hope they will not consider my cheque as a sign of weakness. +But after all," he added, with a smile, "what does it matter? Let us go +in to luncheon, Brooks." + +Brooks glanced down at his mud-splashed clothes and boots. + +"I must really ask you to excuse me," he began, but Arranmore only rang +the bell. + +"My valet will smarten you up," he said. "Here, Fritz, take Mr. Brooks +into my room and look after him, will you. I shall be in the hall when +you come down." + +As he passed from the dressing-room a few minutes later, Brooks paused +for a moment to look up at the wonderful ceiling above the hall. Below, +Lord Arranmore was idly knocking about the billiard balls, and all +around him was the murmur of pleasant conversation. Brooks drew the +envelope from his pocket and glanced at the cheque. He gave a little +gasp of astonishment. It was for a thousand pounds. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +KINGSTON BROOKS MAKES INQUIRIES + +At luncheon Brooks found himself between Sybil Caroom and Mr. Hennibul. +She began to talk to him at once. + +"I want to know all about your candidate, Mr. Brooks," she declared. +"You can't imagine how pleased I am to have you here. I have had the +feeling ever since I came of being shut up in a hostile camp. I am a +Radical, you know, and these good people, even my mother, are rabid +Conservatives." + +Brooks smiled as he unfolded his serviette. + +"Well, Henslow isn't exactly an ornamental candidate," he said, "but he +is particularly sound and a man with any amount of common-sense. You +should come and hear him speak." + +"I'd love to," she answered, "but no one would bring me from here. They +are all hopeless. Mr. Molyneux there is going to support Mr. +Rochester. If I wasn't sure that he'd do more harm than good, I +wouldn't let him go. But I don't suppose they'll let you speak, +Sydney," she added. "They won't if they've ever heard you." + +Molyneux smiled an imperturbable smile. + +"Personally," he said, "I should prefer to lend my moral support only, +but my fame as an orator is too well known. There is not the least +chance that they will let me off." + +Sybil looked at Brooks. + +"Did you ever hear such conceit?" she remarked, in a pitying tone. "And +I don't believe he's ever opened his mouth in the House, except to shout +'Hear, hear'! Besides, he's as nervous as a kitten. Tell me, are you +going to return Mr. Henslow?" + +"I think so," Brooks answered. "It is certain to be a very close +contest, but I believe we shall get a small majority. The Jingo element +are our greatest trouble. They are all the time trying to make people +believe that Conservatives have the monopoly of the Imperial sentiment. +As a matter of fact, I think that Henslow is almost rabid on the war +question." + +"Still, your platform--to use an Americanism," Mr. Hennibul interposed, +"must be founded upon domestic questions. Medchester is a manufacturing +town, and I am given to understand is suffering severely. Has your man +any original views on the present depression in trade?" + +Brooks glanced towards the speaker with a smile. + +"You have been reading the Medchester Post!" he remarked. + +The barrister nodded. + +"Yes. It hinted at some rather surprising revelation." + +"You must read Henslow's speech at the mass meeting to-morrow night," +Brooks said. "At present I mustn't discuss these matters too much, +especially before a political opponent," he remarked, smiling at Mr. +Molyneux. "You might induce Mr. Rochester to play our trump card." + +"If your trump card is what I suspect it to be," Mr. Hennibul said, "I +don't think you need fear that. Rochester would be ready enough to try +it, but some of his supporters wouldn't listen to it." + +The conversation drifted away from politics. Brooks found himself +enjoying his luncheon amazingly. Sybil Caroom devoted herself to him, +and he found himself somehow drawn with marvellous facility into the +little circle of intimate friends. Afterwards they all strolled into +the hall together for coffee, and Arranmore laid his hand upon his arm. + +"I am sorry that you will not have time to look round the place," he +said. "You must come over again before long." + +"You are very kind," Brooks said, dropping his voice a little. "There +are one or two more things which I should like to ask you about Canada." + +"I shall always be at your service," Lord Arranmore answered. + +"And I cannot go," Brooks continued, "without thanking you--" + +"We will take that for granted," Arranmore interrupted. "You know the +spirit in which I gave it. It is not, I fear, one of sympathy, but it +may at any rate save me from having my carriage windows broken one dark +night. By the bye, I have ordered a brougham for you in half-an-hour. +As you see, it is raining. Your bicycle shall be sent in to-morrow." + +"It is very kind of you indeed," Brooks declared. + +"Molyneux has to go in, so you may just as well drive together," +Arranmore remarked. "By the bye, do you shoot?" + +"A little," Brooks admitted. + +"You must have a day with us. My head keeper is coming up this +afternoon, and I will try and arrange something. The election is next +week, of course. We must plan a day after then." + +"I am afraid that my performance would scarcely be up to your standard," +Brooks said, "although it is very kind of you to ask me. I might come +and look on." + +Arranmore laughed. + +"Hennibul is all right," he said, "but Molyneux is a shocking duffer. +We'll give you an easy place. We have some early callers, I see." + +The butler was moving towards them, followed by two men in +hunting-clothes. + +"Sir George Marson and Mr. Lacroix, your lordship," he announced. + +For a second Arranmore stood motionless. His eyes seemed to pass +through the man in pink, who was approaching with outstretched hand, and +to be fastened upon the face of his companion. It chanced that Brooks, +who had stepped a little on one side, was watching his host, and for the +second time in one day he saw things which amazed him. His expression +seemed frozen on to his face--something underneath seemed struggling for +expression. In a second it had all passed away. Brooks could almost +have persuaded himself that it was fancy. + +"Come for something to eat, Arranmore," Sir George declared, hungrily. +"My second man's gone off with the sandwich-case--hunting on his own, I +believe. I'll sack him to-morrow. Here's my friend Lacroix, who says +you saved him from starvation once before out in the wilds somewhere. +Awfully sorry to take you by storm like this, but we're twelve miles +from home, and it's a God-forsaken country for inns." + +"Luncheon for two at once, Groves," Lord Arranmore answered. "Delighted +to meet you again, Mr. Lacroix. Last time we were both of us in very +different trim." + +Lady Caroom came gliding up to them, and shook hands with Sir George. + +"This sounds so interesting," she murmured. "Did you say that you met +Lord Arranmore in his exploring days?" she asked, turning to Mr. +Lacroix. + +"I found Lord Arranmore in a log hut which he had built himself on the +shores of Lake Ono," Lacroix said, smiling. "And when I tell you that I +had lost all my stores, and that his was the only dwelling-place for +fifty miles around, you can imagine that his hospitality was more +welcome to me then even than to-day." + +Brooks, who was standing near, could not repress a start. He fancied +that Lord Arranmore glanced in his direction. + +Lady Caroom shuddered. + +"The only dwelling-house for fifty miles," she repeated. "What hideous +misanthropy." + +"There was no doubt about it," Lacroix declared, smiling. "My Indian +guide, who knew every inch of the country, told me so many times. I can +assure you that Lord Arranmore, whom I am very pleased to meet again, +was a very different person in those days." + +The butler glided up from the background. + +"Luncheon is served in the small dining-room, Sir George," he announced. + + * * * * * + +Molyneux and Brooks drove in together to Medchester, and the former was +disposed--for him to be talkative. + +"Queer thing about Lacroix turning up," he remarked. "I fancy our host +looked a bit staggered." + +"It was enough to surprise him," Brooks answered. "From Lake Ono to +Medchester is a long way." + +Molyneux nodded. + +"By Jove, it is," he affirmed. "Queer stick our host. Close as wax. +I've known him ever since he dropped in for the title and estates, and +I've never yet heard him open his mouth on the subject of his travels." + +"Was he away from England for very long?" Brooks asked. + +"No one knows where he was," Molyneux replied. "Twenty years ago he was +reading for the Bar in London, and he suddenly disappeared. Well, I +have never met a soul except Lacroix to-day who has seen anything of him +in the interval between his disappearance and his coming to claim the +estates. That means that for pretty well half a lifetime he passed +completely out of the world. Poor beggar! I fancy that he was hard up, +for one thing." To Brooks the subject was fascinating, but he had an +idea that it was scarcely the best of form to be discussing their late +host with a man who was comparatively a stranger to him. So he remained +silent, and Molyneux, with a yawn, abandoned the subject. + +"Where does Rochester hang out, do you know?" he asked Brooks. "I don't +suppose for a moment I shall be able to find him." + +"His headquarters are at the Bell Hotel," Brooks replied. "You will +easily be able to come across him, for he has a series of ward meetings +to-night. I am sorry that we are to be opponents." + +"We shan't quarrel about that," Molyneux answered. "Here we are, at +Medchester, then. Better let him put you down, and then he can go on +with me. You're coming out to shoot at Enton, aren't you?" + +"Lord Arranmore was good enough to ask me," Brooks answered, dubiously, +"but I scarcely know whether I ought to accept. I am such a wretched +shot." + +Molyneux laughed. + +"Well, I couldn't hit a haystack," he said, "so you needn't mind that. +Besides, Arranmore isn't keen about his bag, like some chaps. Are these +your offices? See you again, then." + +Brooks found a dozen matters waiting for his attention. But before he +settled down to work he wrote two letters. One was to the man who was +doing his work as Secretary to the Unemployed Fund during the election, +and with a brief mention of a large subscription, instructed him to open +several relief stations which they had been obliged to chose a few days +ago. And the other letter was to Victor Lacroix, whom he addressed at +Westbury Park, Sir George Marson's seat. + +"DEAR SIR, + +"I should be exceedingly obliged if you would accord me a few minutes' +interview on a purely personal matter. I will wait upon you anywhere, +according to your convenience. + +"Yours faithfully, + +"KINGSTON BROOKS." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +HENSLOW SPEAKS OUT + +The bomb was thrown. Some ten thousand people crowded together in the +market-place at Medchester, under what seemed to be one huge canopy of +dripping umbrellas, heard for the first time for many years a bold and +vigorous attack upon the principles which had come to be considered a +part of the commercial ritual of the country. Henslow made the best of +a great opportunity. He spoke temperately, but without hesitation, and +concluded with a biting and powerful onslaught upon that class of +Englishmen who wilfully closed their eyes to the prevailing industrial +depression, and endeavoured to lure themselves and others into a sense +of false security as to the well-being of the country by means of +illusive statistics. In his appreciation of dramatic effect, and the +small means by which an audience can be touched, Henslow was a past +master. Early in his speech he had waved aside the umbrella which a +supporter was holding over him, and regardless of the rain, he stood out +in the full glare of the reflected gaslight, a ponderous, powerful +figure. + +"No one can accuse me," he cried, "of being a pessimist. Throughout my +life I have striven personally, and politically, to look upon the +brightest side of things. But I count it a crime to shut one's eyes to +the cloud in the sky, even though it be no larger than a man's hand. +Years ago that cloud was there for those who would to see. To-day it +looms over us, a black and threatening peril, and those who, +ostrich-like, still hide their heads in the sand, are the men upon whose +consciences must rest in the future the responsibility for those evil +things which are even now upon us. Theories are evil things, but when +theory and fact are at variance, give me fact. Theoretically Free Trade +should--I admit it--make us the most prosperous nation in the world. As +a matter of fact, never since this country commenced to make history has +our commercial supremacy been in so rotten and insecure a position. +There isn't a flourishing industry in the country, save those which +provide the munitions of war, and their prosperity is a spasmodic, and I +might almost add, an undesirable thing. Now, I am dealing with facts +to-night, not theories, and I am going to quote certain unassailable +truths, and I am going to give you the immediate causes for them. The +furniture and joinery trade of England is bad. There are thousands of +good hands out of employment. They are out of work because the +manufacturer has few or no orders. I want the immediate cause for that, +and I go to the manufacturer. I ask him why he has no orders. He tells +me, because every steamer from America is bringing huge consignments of +ready-made office and general furniture, at such prices or such quality +that the English shopkeepers prefer to stock them. Consequently trade +is bad with him, and he cannot find employment for his men. I find +here in Medchester the boot and shoe trade in which you are concerned +bad. There are thousands of you who are willing to work who are out of +employment. I go to the manufacturer, and I say to him, 'Why don't you +find employment for your hands?' 'For two reasons,' he answers. 'First, +because I have lost my Colonial and some of my home trade through +American competition, and secondly, because of the universally depressed +condition of every kindred trade throughout the country, which keeps +people poor and prevents their having money to spend.' Just now I am not +considering the question of why the American can send salable boots and +shoes into this country, although the reasons are fairly obvious. They +have nothing to do with my point, however. We are dealing to-night with +immediate causes! + +"And now as to that depression throughout the country which keeps people +poor, as the boot manufacturer puts it, and prevents their having money +to spend. I am going to take several trades one by one, and ascertain +the immediate cause of their depression--" + +He had hold of his audience, and he made good use of his advantage. He +quoted statistics, showing the decrease of exports and relative increase +of imports. How could we hope to retain our accumulated wealth under +such conditions?--and finally he abandoned theorizing and argument, and +boldly declared his position. + +"I will tell you," he concluded, "what practical means I intend to bring +to bear upon the situation. I base my projected action upon this +truism, which is indeed the very kernel of my creed. I say that every +man willing and able to work should have work, and I say that it is the +duty of legislators to see that he has it. To-day there are one hundred +thousand men and women hanging about our streets deteriorating morally +and physically through the impossibility of following their trade. I +say that it is time for legislators to inquire into the cause of this, +and to remedy it. So I propose to move in the House of Commons, should +your votes enable me to find myself there, that a Royal Commission be +immediately appointed to deal with this matter. And I propose, +further, to insist that this Commission be composed of manufacturers and +business men, and that we dispense with all figure-heads, and I can +promise you this, that the first question which shall engage the +attention of these men shall be an immediate revision of our tariffs. +We won't have men with theories which work out beautifully on paper, and +bring a great country into the throes of commercial ruin. We won't have +men who think that the laws their fathers made are good enough for them, +and that all change is dangerous, because Englishmen are sure to fight +their way through in the long run--a form of commercial Jingoism to +which I fear we are peculiarly prone. We don't want scholars or +statisticians. We want a commission of plain business men, and I +promise you that if we get them, there shall be presented to Parliament +before I meet you again practical measures which I honestly and firmly +believe will start a wave of commercial prosperity throughout the +country such as the oldest amongst you cannot remember. We have the +craftsmen, the capital, and the brains--all that we need is legislation +adapted to the hour and not the last century, and we can hold our own +yet in the face of the world." + + * * * * * + +Afterwards, at the political club and at the committee-room, there was +much excited conversation concerning the effect of Henslow's bold +declaration. The general impression was, this election was now assured. +A shouting multitude followed him to his hotel, popular Sentiment was +touched, and even those who had been facing the difficulty of life with +a sort of dogged despair for years were raised into enthusiasm. His +words begat hope. + +In the committee-room there was much excitement and a good deal of +speculation. Every one realized that the full effect of this daring +plunge could not be properly gauged until after it had stood the test of +print. But on the whole comment was strikingly optimistic. Brooks for +some time was absent. In the corridor he had come face to face with +Mary Scott. Her eyes flashed with pleasure at the sight of him, and she +held out her hand frankly. + +"You heard it all?" he asked, eagerly. + +"Yes--every word. Tell me, you understand these things so much better +than I do. Is this an election dodge, or--is he in earnest? Was he +speaking the truth? + +"The honest truth, I believe," he answered, leading her a little away +from the crowd of people. "He is of course pressing this matter home +for votes, but he is very much in earnest himself about it." + +"And you think that he is on the right track?" + +"I really believe so," he answered. "In fact I am strongly in favour of +making experiments in the direction he spoke of. By the bye, Miss +Scott, I have something to tell you. You remember telling me about Lord +Arranmore and his refusal to subscribe to the Unemployed Fund?" + +"Yes!" + +"He has been approached again--the facts have been more fully made +known to him, and he has sent a cheque for one thousand pounds." + +She received the news with a coldness which he found surprising. + +"I think I can guess," she said, quietly, "who the second applicant was." + +"I went to see him myself," he admitted. + +"You must be very eloquent," she remarked, with a smile which he could +not quite understand. "A thousand pounds is a great deal of money." + +"It is nothing to Lord Arranmore," he answered. + +"Less than nothing," she admitted, readily. "I would rather that he had +stopped in the street and given half-a-crown to a hungry child." + +"Still--it is a magnificent gift," he declared. "We can open all our +relief stations again. I believe that you are a little prejudiced +against Lord Arranmore." + +"I?" She shrugged her shoulders. "How should I be? I have never spoken +a word to him in my life. But I think that he has a hard, cynical face, +and a hateful expression." + +Brooks disagreed with her frankly. + +"He seems to me," he declared, "like a man who has had a pretty rough +time, and I believe he had in his younger days, but I do not believe +that he is really either hard or cynical. He has some odd views as +regards charity, but upon my word they are logical enough." + +She smiled. + +"Well, we'll not disagree about him," she declared. "I wonder how long +my uncle means to be." + +"Shall I find out?" he asked. + +"Would it be troubling you? He is so excited that I dare say he has +forgotten all about me." + +Which was precisely what he had done. Brooks found him the centre of +an animated little group, with a freshly-lit cigar in his mouth, and +every appearance of having settled down to spend the night. He was +almost annoyed when Brooks reminded him of his niece. + +"God bless my soul, I forgot all about Mary," he exclaimed with +vexation. "She must go and sit somewhere. I shan't be ready yet. +Henslow wants us to go down to the Bell, and have a bit of supper." + +"In that case," Brooks said, "you had better allow me to take Miss Scott +home, and I will come then to you." + +"Capital, if you really don't mind," Mr. Bullsom declared. "Put her in +a cab. Don't let her be a bother to you." + +Brooks found her reluctant to take him away, but he pleaded a headache, +and assured her that his work for the night was over. Outside he led +her away from the centre of the town to a quiet walk heading to the +suburb where she lived. Here the streets seemed strangely silent, and +Brooks walked hat in hand, heedless of the rain which was still +sprinkling. "Oh, this is good," he murmured. "How one wearies of these +crowds." + +"All the same," she answered, smiling, "I think that your place just now +is amongst them, and I shall not let you take me further than the top of +the hill." + +Brooks looked down at her and laughed. + +"What a very determined person you are," he said. "I will take you to +the top of the hill--and then we will see." + + + +CHAPTER X + +A TEMPTING OFFER + +The small boy brought in the card and laid it on Brooks' desk with a +flourish. + +"He's outside, sir--in Mr. Barton's room. Shall I show him in?" + +Brooks for a moment hesitated. He glanced at a letter which lay open +upon the desk before him, and which he had read and re-read many times. +The boy repeated his inquiry. + +"Yes, of course," he answered. "Show him in at once." + +Lord Arranmore, more than usually immaculate, strolled in, hat in hand, +and carefully selecting the most comfortable chair, seated himself on +the other side of the open table at which Brooks was working. + +"How are you, Brooks?" he inquired, tersely. "Busy, of course. An +aftermath of work, I suppose." + +"A few months ago," Brooks answered, "I should have considered myself +desperately busy. But after last week anything ordinary in the shape of +work seems restful." + +Lord Arranmore nodded. + +"I must congratulate you, I suppose," he remarked. "You got your man +in." + +"We got him in all right," Brooks assented. "Our majority was less than +we had hoped for, though." + +Lord Arranmore shrugged his shoulders. + +"It was large enough," he answered, "and after all it was a clear gain +of a seat to your party, wasn't it?" + +"It was a seat which we Radicals had a right to," Brooks declared. "Now +that the storm of Imperialism is quieting down and people are beginning +to realize that matters nearer home need a little attention, I cannot +see how the manufacturing centres can do anything save return Radicals. +We are the only party with a definite home policy." + +Lord Arranmore nodded. + +"Just so," he remarked, indifferently. "I needn't say that I didn't +come here to talk politics. There was a little matter of business which +I wished to put before you." + +Brooks looked up in some surprise. + +"Business!" he repeated, a little vaguely. + +"Yes. As you are aware, Mr. Morrison has had the control of the Enton +estates for many years. He was a very estimable man, and he performed +his duties so far as I know quite satisfactorily. Now that he is dead, +however, I intend to make a change. The remaining partners in his firm +are unknown to me, and I at once gave them notice of my intention. +Would you care to undertake the legal management of my estates in this +part of the world?" + +Brooks felt the little colour he had leave his cheeks. For a moment he +was quite speechless. + +"I scarcely know how to answer, or to thank you, Lord Arranmore," he +said at last. "This is such a surprising offer. I scarcely see how you +can be in earnest. You know so little of me." + +Lord Arranmore shrugged his shoulders. + +"Really," he said, "I don't see anything very surprising in it. +Morrisons have a large practice, and without the old man I scarcely see +how they could continue to give my affairs the attention they require. +You, on the other hand, are only just starting, and you would be able to +watch over my interests more closely. Then--although I cannot pretend +that I am much influenced by sentimental reasons--still, I knew your +father, and the strangeness of our few years of life as neighbours +inclines me to be of service to you provided I myself am not the +sufferer. As to that I am prepared to take the risk. You see mine is +only the usual sort of generosity--the sort which provides for an +adequate quid pro quo. Of course, if you think that the undertaking of +my affairs would block you in other directions do not hesitate to say +so. This is a matter of business between us, pure and simple." + +Brooks had recovered himself. The length of Lord Arranmore's speech and +his slow drawl had given him an opportunity to do so. He glanced for a +moment at the letter which lay upon his desk, and hated it. + +"In an ordinary way, Lord Arranmore," he answered, "there could be only +one possible reply to such an offer as you have made me--an immediate +and prompt acceptance. If I seem to hesitate, it is because, first--I +must tell you something. I must make something--in the nature of a +confession." + +Lord Arranmore raised his eyebrows, but his face remained as the face of +a Sphinx. He sat still, and waited. + +"On the occasion of my visit to you," Brooks continued, "you may +remember the presence of a certain Mr. Lacroix? He is the author, I +believe, of several books of travel in Western Canada, and has the +reputation of knowing that part of the country exceedingly well." + +Brooks paused, but his visitor helped him in no way. His face wore +still its passive expression of languid inquiry. + +"He spoke of his visit to you," Brooks went on "in Canada, and he twice +reiterated the fact that there was no other dwelling within fifty miles +of you. He said this upon his own authority, and upon the authority of +his Indian guide. Now it is only a few days ago since you spoke of my +father as living for years within a few miles of you." + +Lord Arranmore nodded his head thoughtfully. + +"Ah! And you found the two statements, of course, irreconcilable. +Well, go on!" + +Brooks found it difficult. He was grasping a paperweight tightly in one +hand, and he felt the rising colour burn his cheeks. + +"I wrote to Mr. Lacroix," he said. + +"A perfectly natural thing to do," Lord Arranmore remarked, smoothly. + +And his answer is here! + +"Suppose you read it to me," Lord Arranmore suggested. + +Brooks took up the letter and read it. + +"TRAVELLERS' CLUB, December 10. + +"DEAR SIR, + +"Replying to your recent letter, I have not the slightest hesitation in +reaffirming the statement to which you refer. I am perfectly convinced +that at the time of my visit to Lord Arranmore on the bank of Lake Quo, +there was no Englishman or dwelling-place of any sort within a radius of +fifty miles. The information which you have received is palpably +erroneous. + +"Why not refer to Lord Arranmore himself? He would certainly confirm +what I say, and finally dispose of the matter. + +"Yours sincerely, + +"VICTOR LACROIX." + +"A very interesting letter," Lord Arranmore remarked. "Well?" + +Brooks crumpled the letter up and flung it into the waste-paper basket. + +"Lord Arranmore," he said, "I made this inquiry behind your back, and in +a sense I am ashamed of having done so. Yet I beg you to put yourself +in my position. You must admit that my father's disappearance from the +world was a little extraordinary. He was a man whose life was more than +exemplary--it was saintly. For year after year he worked in the +police-courts amongst the criminal classes. His whole life was one long +record of splendid devotion. His health at last breaks down, and he is +sent by his friends for a voyage to Australia. He never returns. Years +afterwards his papers and particulars of his death are sent home from +one of the loneliest spots in the Empire. A few weeks ago you found me +out and told me of his last days. You see what I must believe. That he +wilfully deserted his wife and son--myself. That he went into lonely +and inexplicable solitude for no apparent or possible reason. That he +misused the money subscribed by his friends in order that he might take +this trip to Australia. Was ever anything more irreconcilable?" + +"From your point of view--perhaps not," Lord Arranmore answered. "You +must enlarge it." + +"Will you tell me how?" Brooks demanded. + +Lord Arranmore stifled a yawn. He had the air of one wearied by a +profitless discussion. + +"Well," he said, "I might certainly suggest a few things. Who was your +trustee or guardian, or your father's man of business? + +"Mr. Ascough, of Lincoln's Inn Fields." + +"Exactly. Your father saw him, of course, prior to his departure from +England." + +"Yes." + +"Well, is it not a fact that instead of making a will your father made +over by deed of gift the whole of his small income to your mother in +trust for you?" + +"Yes, he did that," Brooks admitted. + +Lord Arranmore shrugged his shoulders. + +"Think that over," he remarked. "Doesn't that suggest his already +half-formed intention never to return?" + +"It never struck me in that way," Brooks answered. "Yet it is obvious," +Lord Arranmore said. "Now, I happen to know from your father himself +that he never intended to go to Australia, and he never intended to +return to England. He sailed instead by an Allan liner from Liverpool +to Quebec under the name of Francis. He went straight to Montreal, and +he stayed there until he had spent the greater part of his money. Then +he drifted out west. There is his history for you in a few words." + +A sudden light flashed in Brooks' eyes. + +"He told you that he left England meaning never to return? Then you +have the key to the whole thing. Why not? That is what I want to know. +Why not?" + +"I do not know," Lord Arranmore answered, coolly. "He never told me." + +Brooks felt a sudden chill of disappointment. Lord Arranmore rose +slowly to his feet. + +"Mr. Brooks," he said, "I have told you all that I know. You have +asked me a question which I have not been able to answer. I can, +however, give you some advice which I will guarantee to be +excellent--some advice which you will do well to follow. Shall I go +on?" + +"If you please!" + +"Do not seek to unravel any further what may seem to you to be the +mystery of your father's disappearance from the world. Depend upon it, +his action was of his own free will, and he had excellent reasons for +it. If he had wished you to know them he would have communicated with +you. Remember, I was with your father during his last days--and this is +my advice to you." + +Brooks pointed downward to the crumpled ball of paper. + +"That letter!" he exclaimed. + +Lord Arranmore shrugged his shoulders. + +"I scarcely see its significance," he said. "It is not even my word +against Lacroix'. I sent you all your father's papers, I brought back +photographs and keepsakes known to belong to him. In what possible way +could it benefit me to mislead you?" + +The telephone on Brooks' table rang, and for a moment or two he found +himself, with mechanical self-possession, attending to some unimportant +question. When he replaced the receiver Lord Arranmore had resumed his +seat, but was drawing on his gloves. + +"Come," he said, "let us resume our business talk. I have made you an +offer. What have you to say?" + +Brooks pointed to the waste-paper basket. + +"I did a mean action," he said. "I am ashamed of it. Do you mean that +your offer remains open?" + +"Certainly," Lord Arranmore answered. "That little affair is not worth +mentioning. I should probably have done the same." + +"Well, I am not altogether a madman," Brooks declared, smiling, "so I +will only say that I accept your offer gratefully--and I will do my very +best to deserve your confidence." + +Lord Arranmore rose and stood with his hands behind him, looking out of +the window. + +"Very good," he said. "I will send for Ascough to come down from town, +and we must meet one day next week at Morrisons' office, and go into +matters thoroughly. That reminds me. Busher, my head bailiff, will be +in to see you this afternoon. There are half-a-dozen leases to be seen +to at once, and everything had better come here until the arrangements +are concluded." + +"I shall be in all the afternoon," Brooks answered, still a little +dazed. + +"And Thursday," Lord Arranmore concluded, "you dine and sleep at Enton. +I hope we shall have a good day's sport. The carriage will fetch you at +6:30. Good-morning." + +Lord Arranmore walked out with a little nod, but on the threshold he +paused and looked back. + +"By the bye, Brooks," he said, "do you remember my meeting you in a +little tea-shop almost the day after I first called upon you?" + +"Quite well," Brooks answered. + +"You had a young lady with you." + +"Yes. I was with Miss Scott." + +Lord Arranmore's hand fell from the handle. His eyes seemed suddenly +full of fierce questioning. He moved a step forward into the room. + +"Miss Scott? Who is she?" + +Brooks was hopelessly bewildered, and showed it. + +"She lives with her uncle in Medchester. He is a builder and timber +merchant." + +Lord Arranmore was silent for a moment. + +"Her father, then, is dead?" he asked. + +"He died abroad, I think," Brooks answered, "but I really am not sure. +I know very little of any of them." + +Lord Arranmore turned away. + +"She is the image of a man I once knew," he remarked, "but after all, +the type is not an uncommon one. You won't forget that Busher will be +in this afternoon. He is a very intelligent fellow for his class, and +you may find it worth your while to ask him a few questions. Until +Thursday, then." + +"Until Thursday," Brooks repeated, mechanically. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +WHO THE DEVIL IS BROOKS? + +"To be tired," declared Sydney Molyneux, sinking into a low couch, "to +be downright dead dog-tired is the most delightful thing in the world. +Will some one give me some tea?" + +Brooks laughed softly from his place in front of the open fire. A long +day in the fresh north wind had driven the cobwebs from his brain, and +brought the burning colour to his cheeks. His eyes were bright, and his +laughter was like music. + +"And you," he exclaimed, "are fresh from electioneering. Why, fatigue +like this is a luxury." + +Molyneux lit a cigarette and looked longingly at the tea-tray set out in +the middle of the hall. + +"That is all very well," he said, "but there is a wide difference +between the two forms of exercise. In electioneering one can use one's +brain, and my brain is never weary. It is capable of the most +stupendous exertions. It is my legs that fail me sometimes. Here comes +Lady Caroom at last. Why does she look as though she had seen a ghost?" + +That great staircase at Enton came right into the hall. A few steps +from the bottom Lady Caroom had halted, and her appearance was certainly +a little unusual. Every vestige of colour had left her cheeks. Her +right hand was clutching the oak banisters, her eyes were fixed upon +Brooks. He was for a moment embarrassed, but he stepped forward to meet +her. + +"How do you do, Lady Caroom?" he said. "We are all in the shadows here, +and Mr. Molyneux is crying out for his tea." + +She resumed her progress and greeted Brooks graciously. Almost at the +same moment a footman brought lamps, and the tea was served. Lady +Caroom glanced again with a sort of curious nervousness at the young man +who stood by her side. + +"You are a little earlier than we expected," she remarked, seating +herself before the tea-tray. "Here comes Sybil. She is dying to +congratulate you, Mr. Brooks. Is Arranmore here?" + +"We left him in the gun-room," Molyneux answered. "He is coming +directly." + +Sybil Caroom, in a short skirt and a jaunty hat, came towards Brooks +with outstretched hand. + +"Delightful!" she exclaimed. "I only wish that it had been nine +thousand instead of nine hundred. You deserved it." + +Brooks laughed heartily. + +"Well, we were satisfied to win the seat," he declared. + +Molyneux leaned forward tea-cup in hand. + +"Well, you deserved it," he remarked. "Our old man opened his mouth a +bit, but yours knocked him silly. Upon my word, I didn't think that any +one man had cheek stupendous enough to humbug a constituency like +Henslow did. It took my breath away to read his speeches." + +"Do you really mean that?" asked Brooks. + +"Mean it? Of course I do. What I can't understand is how people can +swallow such stuff, election after election. Doesn't every Radical +candidate get up and talk in the same maudlin way--hasn't he done so +for the last fifty years? And when he gets into Parliament is there a +more Conservative person on the face of the earth than the Radical +member pledged to social reform? It's the same with your man Henslow. +He'll do nothing! He'll attempt nothing! Silly farce, politics, I +think." + +Lady Caroom laughed softly. + +"I have never heard you so eloquent in my life, Sydney," she exclaimed. +"Do go on. It is most entertaining. When you have quite finished I can +see that Mr. Brooks is getting ready to pulverize you." + +Brooks shook his head. + +"Lady Sybil tells me that Mr. Molyneux is not to be taken seriously," +he answered. + +Molyneux brought up his cup for some more tea. + +"Don't you listen to Lady Sybil, Brooks," he retorted. "She is annoyed +with me because I have been spoken of as a future Prime Minister, and +she rather fancies her cousin for the post. Two knobs, please, and +plenty of cream. As a matter of fact I am in serious and downright +earnest. I say that Henslow won his seat by kidding the working +classes. He promised them a sort of political Arabian Nights. He'll go +up to Westminster, and I'm open to bet what you like that he makes not +one serious practical effort to push forward one of the startling +measures he talked about so glibly. I will trouble you for the toast, +Brooks. Thanks!" + +"He is always cynical like this," Sybil murmured, "when his party have +lost a seat. Don't take any notice of him, Mr. Brooks. I have great +faith in Mr. Henslow, and I believe that he will do his best." + +Molyneux smiled. + +"Henslow is a politician," he remarked, "a professional politician. +What you Radicals want is Englishmen who are interested in politics. +Henslow knows how to get votes. He's got his seat, and he'll keep +it--till the next election." + +Brooks shook his head. + +"Henslow has rather a platform manner," he said, "but he is sound +enough. I believe that we are on the eve of important changes in our +social legislation, and I believe that Henslow will have much to say +about them. At any rate, he is not a rank hypocrite. We have shown him +things in Medchester which he can scarcely forget in a hurry. He will +go to Westminster with the memory of these things before him, with such +a cry in his ears as no man can stifle. He might forget if he +would--but he never will. We have shown him things which men may not +forget." + +Lord Arranmore, who had now joined the party, leaned forward with his +arm resting lightly upon Lady Caroom's shoulder. An uneasy light +flashed in his eyes. + +"There are men," he said, "whom you can never reach, genial men with a +ready smile and a prompt cheque-book, whose selfishness is an armour +more potent than the armour of my forefather there, Sir Ronald Kingston +of Arranmore. And, after all, why not? The thoroughly selfish man is +the only person logically who has the slightest chance of happiness." + +"It is true," Molyneux murmured. "Delightfully true." + +"Lord Arranmore is always either cynical or paradoxical," Sybil Caroom +declared. "He really says the most unpleasant things with the greatest +appearance of truth of any man I know." + +"This company," Lord Arranmore remarked lightly, "is hostile to me. Let +us go and play pool." + +Lady Caroom rose up promptly. Molyneux groaned audibly. + +"You shall play me at billiards instead," she declared. "I used to give +you a good game once, and I have played a great deal lately. Ring for +Annette, will you, Sybil? She has my cue." + +Sybil Caroom made room for Brooks by her side. + +"Do sit down and tell me more about the election," she said. "Sydney is +sure to go to sleep. He always does after shooting." + +"You shall ask me questions," he suggested. "I scarcely know what part +of it would interest you." + +They talked together lightly at first, then more seriously. From the +other end of the hall came the occasional click of billiard balls. Lady +Caroom and her host were playing a leisurely game interspersed with +conversation. + +"Who is this young Mr. Brooks?" she asked, pausing to chalk her cue. + +"A solicitor from Medchester," he answered. "He was Parliamentary agent +for Henslow, and I am going to give him a management of my estates." + +"He is quite a boy," she remarked. + +"Twenty-six or seven," he answered. "How well you play those cannons. + +"I ought to. I had lessons for years. Is he a native of Medchester?" + +Lord Arranmore was blandly puzzled. She finished her stroke and turned +towards him. + +"Mr. Brooks, you know. We were talking of him." + +"Of course we were," he answered. "I do not think so. He is an orphan. +I met his father in Canada." + +"He reminds me of some one," she remarked, in a puzzled tone. "Just now +as I was coming downstairs it was almost startling. He is a +good-looking boy." + +"Be careful not to foul," he admonished her. "You should have the +spider-rest." + +Lady Caroom made a delicate cannon from an awkward place, and concluded +her break in silence. Then she leaned with her back against the table, +chalking her cue. Her figure was still the figure of a girl she was a +remarkably pretty woman. She laid her slim white fingers upon his +coat-sleeve. + +"I wonder," she said, softly, "whether you will ever tell me." + +"If you look at me like that," he answered, smiling, "I shall tell +you--a great many things." + +Her eyes fell. It was too absurd at her age, but her cheeks were +burning. + +"You don't improve a bit," she declared. "You were always too apt with +your tongue." + +"I practiced in a good school," he answered. + +"Dear me," she sighed. "For elderly people what a lot of rubbish we +talk." + +He shivered. + +"What a hideous word," he remarked. "You make me feel that my chest is +padded and my hair dyed. If to talk sense is a sign of youth, let us do +it." + +"By all means. When are you going to find me a husband for Sybil?" + +"Well--is there any hurry?" he asked. + +"Lots! We are going to Fernshire next week, and the place is always +full of young men. If you have anything really good in your mind I +don't want to miss it." + +He took up his cue and scored an excellent break. She followed suit, +and he broke down at an easy cannon. Then he came over to her side. + +"How do you like Mr. Brooks?" he asked, quietly. + +"He seems a nice boy," she answered, lightly. He remained silent. +Suddenly she looked up into his face, and clutched the sides of the +table. + +"You--you don't mean that?" she murmured, suddenly pale to the lips. + +He led her to a chair. The game was over. + +"Some day," he whispered, "I will tell you the whole story." + + * * * * * + +"Even to think of these things," Sybil said, softly, "makes us feel very +selfish." + +"No one is ever hopelessly selfish who is conscious of it," he answered, +smiling. "And, after all, it would not do for every one to be always +brooding upon the darker side of life." + +"In another minute," Molyneux exclaimed, waking up with a start, "I +should have been asleep. Whatever have you two been talking about? It +was the most soothing hum I ever heard in my life." + +"Mr. Brooks was telling me of some new phases of life," she answered. +"It is very interesting, even if it is a little sad." + +Molyneux eyed them both for a moment in thoughtful silence. + +"H'm!" he remarked. "Dinner is the next phase of life which will +interest me. Has the dressing-bell gone yet?" + +"You gross person," she exclaimed. "You ate so much tea you had to go +to sleep." + +"It was the exercise, he insisted. + +"You have been standing about all day. I heard you ask for a place +without any walking, and where as few people as possible could see you +miss your birds." + +"Your ears are a great deal too sharp," he said. "It was the wind, +then." + +"Never mind what it was," she answered, laughing. "You can go to sleep +again if you like." + +Molyneux put up his eyeglass and looked from one to the other. He saw +that Sybil's interest in her companion's conversation was not assumed, +and for the first time he appreciated Brooks' good looks. He shook off +his sleepiness at once and stood by Sybil's side. + +"Have you been trying to convert Lady Sybil?" he asked. + +"It is unnecessary," she answered, quickly. "Mr. Brooks and I are on +the same side." + +He laughed softly and strolled away. Lord Arranmore was standing +thoughtfully before the marking-board. He laid his hand upon his arm. + +"I say, Arranmore," he asked, "who the devil is Brooks?" + + + +CHAPTER XII + +MR. BULLSOM GIVES A DINNER-PARTY + +"God bless my soul!" Mr. Bullsom exclaimed. "Listen to this." Mrs. +Bullsom, in a resplendent new dress, looking shinier and fatter than +ever, was prepared to listen to anything which might relieve the tension +of the moment. For it was the evening of the dinner-party, and within +ten minutes of the appointed time. Mr. Bullsom stood under the +incandescent light and read aloud "The shooting-party at Enton yesterday +consisted of the Marquis of Arranmore, the Hon. Sydney Molyneux, Mr. +Hennibul, K.C., and Mr. Kingston Brooks. Notwithstanding the high wind +an excellent bag was obtained." + +"What! Our Mr. Kingston Brooks?" Selina exclaimed. + +"It's Brooks, right enough," Mr. Bullsom exclaimed. "I called at his +office yesterday, and they told me that he was out for the day. Well, +that licks me." + +Mary, who was reading a magazine in a secluded corner, looked up. + +"I saw Mr. Brooks in the morning," she remarked. "He told me that he +was going to Enton to dine and sleep." + +Selina looked at her cousin sharply. + +"You saw Mr. Brooks?" she repeated. "Where?" + +"I met him," Mary answered, coolly. "He told me that Lord Arranmore had +been very kind to him." + +"Why didn't you tell us?" Louise asked. + +"I really didn't think of it," Mary answered. "It didn't strike me as +being anything extraordinary." + +"Not when he's coming here to dine to-night," Selina repeated, "and is a +friend of papa's! Why, Mary, what nonsense." + +"I really don't see anything to make a fuss about," Mary said, going +back to her magazine. + +Mr. Bullsom drew himself up, and laid down the paper with the paragraph +uppermost. + +"Well, it is most gratifying to think that I gave that young man his +first start," he remarked. "I believe, too, that he is not likely to +forget it." + +"The bell!" Mrs. Bullsom exclaimed, with a little gasp. "Some one has +come." + +"Well, if they have, there's nothing to be frightened about," Mr. +Bullsom retorted. "Ain't we expecting them to come? Don't look so +scared, Sarah! Take up a book, or something. Why, bless my soul, +you're all of a tremble." + +"I can't help it, Peter," Mrs. Bullsom replied, nervously. "I don't +know these people scarcely a bit, and I'm sure I shall do something +foolish. Selina, be sure you look at me when I'm to come away, and--" + +"Mr. Kingston Brooks." + +Brooks, ushered in by a neighbouring greengrocer, entered upon a scene +of unexpected splendour. Selina and her sister were gorgeous in green +and pink respectively. Mr. Bullsom's shirt-front was a thing to wonder +at. There was an air of repressed excitement about everybody, except +Mary, who welcomed him with a quiet smile. + +"I am not much too early, I hope," Brooks remarked. + +"You're in the nick of time," Mr. Bullsom assured him. + +Brooks endeavoured to secure a chair near Mary, which attempt Selina +adroitly foiled. + +"We've been reading all about your grandeur, Mr. Brooks," she +exclaimed. "What a beautiful day you must have had at Enton." + +Brooks looked puzzled. + +"It was very enjoyable," he declared. "I wanted to see you, Miss +Scott," he added, turning to Mary. "I think that we can arrange that +date for the lecture now. How would Wednesday week do?" + +"Admirably!" Mary answered. + +"Do you know whom you take in, Mr. Brooks?" Selina interrupted. + +Brooks glanced at the card in his hand. + +"Mrs. Seventon," he said. "Yes, thanks." + +Selina looked up at him with an arch smile. + +"Mrs. Seventon is most dreadfully proper," she said. "You will have to +be on your best behaviour. Oh, here comes some one. What a bother!" + +There was an influx of guests. Mrs. Bullsom, reduced to a state of +chaotic nervousness, was pushed as far into the background as possible +by her daughters, and Mr. Bullsom, banished from the hearth where he +felt surest of himself, plunged into a conversation with Mr. Seventon +on the weather. Brooks leaned over towards Mary. + +"Wednesday week at eight o'clock, then," he said. "I want to have a +chat with you about the subject." + +"Not now," she interposed. "You know these people, don't you, and the +Huntingdons? Go and talk to them, please." + +Brooks laughed, and went to the rescue. He won Mrs. Bullsom's eternal +gratitude by diverting Mrs. Seventon's attention from her, and thereby +allowing her a moment or two to recover herself. Somehow or other a +buzz of conversation was kept up until the solemn announcement of +dinner. And when she was finally seated in her place, and saw a couple +of nimble waiters, with the greengrocer in the back, looking cool and +capable, she felt that the worst was over. + +The solemn process of sampling doubtful-looking entries and eating +saddle of mutton to the tune of a forced conversation was got through +without disaster. Mrs. Bullsom felt her fat face break out into +smiles. Mr. Bullsom, though he would like to have seen everybody go +twice for everything, began to expand. He had already recited the story +of Kingston Brooks' greatness to both of his immediate neighbours, and +in a casual way mentioned his early patronage of that remarkable young +man. And once meeting his eye he raised his glass. + +"Not quite up to the Enton vintage, Brooks, eh? but all right, I hope." + +Brooks nodded back, and resumed his conversation. Selina took the +opportunity to mention casually to her neighbour, Mr. Huntingdon, that +Mr. Brooks was a great friend of Lord Arranmore's, and Louise, on her +side of the table, took care also to disseminate the same information. +Everybody was properly impressed. Mr. Bullsom decided to give a +dinner-party every month, and to double the greengrocer's tip, and by +the time Selina's third stage whisper had reached her mother and the +ladies finally departed, he was in a state of geniality bordering upon +beatitude. There was a general move to his end of the table. Mr. +Bullsom started the port, and his shirt-front grew wider and wider. He +lit a cigar, and his thumb found its way to the armhole of his +waistcoat. At that moment Mr. Bullsom would not have changed places +with any man on earth. + +"What sort of a place is Enton to stay at, Brooks, eh?" he inquired, in +a friendly manner. "Keeps it up very well, don't he, the present +Marquis?" + +Brooks sighed. + +"I really don't know much about it," he answered, "I was only there one +night." + +"Good day's sport?" + +"Very good indeed," Brooks answered. "Lord Arranmore is a wonderful +shot." + +"A remarkable man in a great many ways, Lord Arranmore," Dr. Seventon +remarked. "He disappeared from London when he was an impecunious young +barrister with apparently no earthly chance of succeeding to the +Arranmore estates, and from that time till a few years ago, when he was +advertised for, not a soul knew his whereabouts. Even now I am told +that he keeps the story of all these years absolutely to himself. No +one knew where he was, or how he supported himself." + +"I can tell you where he was for some time, at any rate," Brooks said. +"He was in Canada, for he met my father there, and was with him when he +died." + +"Indeed," Dr. Seventon remarked. "Then I should say that you are one +of the only men in England to whom he has opened his lips on the +subject. Do you know what he was doing there?" + +"Fishing and shooting, I think." Brooks answered. "It was near Lake +Ono, right out west, and there would be nothing else to take one there." + +"It was always supposed too that he had spent most of the time in a +situation in New York," Mr. Huntingdon said. + +"I know a man," Mr. Seaton put in, "who can swear that he met him as a +sergeant in the first Australian contingent of mounted infantry sent to +the Cape." + +"There are no end of stories about him," Dr. Seventon remarked. "If I +were the man I would put a stop to them by telling everybody exactly +where I was during those twenty years or so. It is a big slice of one's +life to seal up." + +"Still, there is not the slightest reason why he should take the whole +world into his confidence, is there?" Brooks expostulated. "He is not a +public man." + +"A peer of England with a seat in the House of Lords must always be a +public man to some extent," Mr. Huntingdon remarked. + +"I am not sure," Brooks remarked, "that the lives of all our hereditary +legislators would bear the most searching inquiry." + +"That's right, Brooks," Mr. Bullsom declared. "Stick up for your pals." + +Brooks looked a little annoyed. + +"The only claim I have upon Lord Arranmore's acquaintance," he remarked, +"is his kindness to my father. I hope, Dr. Seventon, that you are +going to press the matter of that fever hospital home. I have a little +information which I think you might make use of." + +Brooks changed his place, wine-glass in hand, and the conversation +drifted away. But he found the position of social star one which the +Bullsoms were determined to force upon him, for they had no sooner +entered the drawing-room than Selina came rushing across the room to him +and drew him confidentially on one side. + +"Mr. Brooks," she said, "do go and talk to Mrs. Huntingdon. She is so +anxious to hear about the Lady Caroom who is staying at Enton." + +"I know nothing about Lady Caroom," Brooks replied, without any overplus +of graciousness. + +Selina looked at him in some dismay. + +"But you met her at Enton, didn't you?" she asked. + +"Oh, yes, I met her there," Brooks answered, impatiently. "But I +certainly don't know enough of her to discuss her with Mrs. Huntingdon. +I rather wanted to speak to your cousin." + +Selina's thin little lips became compressed, and for a moment she forgot +to smile. Her cousin indeed! Mary, who was sitting there in a plain +black gown without a single ornament, and not even a flower, looking for +all the world like the poor relation she was! Selina glanced downwards +at the great bunch of roses and maidenhair fern in her bosom, at the +fancy and beaded trimming which ran like a nightmare all over her new +gown, and which she was absolutely certain had come from Paris; at the +heavy gold bracelets which concealed some part of her thin arms; she +remembered suddenly the aigrette in her hair, such a finish to her +costume, and her self-confidence returned. + +"Oh, don't bother about Mary now. Mrs. Huntingdon is dying to have you +talk to her. Please do and if you like--I will give you one of my roses +for your button-hole." + +Brooks stood the shock gallantly, and bowed his thanks. He had met Mrs. +Huntingdon before, and they talked together for a quarter of an hour or +so. + +"I wish I knew why you were here," was almost her first question. +"Isn't it all funny? + +"Mr. Bullsom has always been very decent to me," he answered. "It is +through him I was appointed agent to Mr. Henslow." + +"Oh, business! I see," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. "Same +here. I'm a doctor's wife, you know. Did you ever see such awful +girls! and who in the name of all that's marvellous can be their +dressmaker?" + +"Bullsom is a very good sort indeed," Brooks answered. "I have a great +respect for him." + +She made a little face. + +"Who's the nice-looking girl in black with her hair parted in the +middle?" she asked. "Mr. Bullsom's niece. She is quite charming, and +most intelligent." + +"Dear me!" Mrs. Huntingdon remarked. "I had no idea she had anything +to do with the family. Sort of a Cinderella look about her now you +mention it. Couldn't you get her to come over and talk to me? I'm +horribly afraid of Mrs. Bullsom. She'll come out of that dress if +she tries to talk, and I know I shall laugh." + +"I'm sure I can," Brooks answered, rising with alacrity. "I'll bring +her over in a minute." + +Mary had just finished arranging a card-table when Brooks drew her on +one side. + +"About that subject!" he began. + +"We shall scarcely have time to talk about it now, shall we?" she +answered. "You will be wanted to play cards or something. We shall be +quite content to leave it to you." + +"I should like to talk it over with you," he said. "Do tell me when I +may see you." + +She sat down, and he stood by her chair. "Really, I don't know," she +answered. "Perhaps I shall be at home when you pay your duty call." + +"Come and have some tea at Mellor's with me to-morrow." + +She seemed not to hear him. She had caught Mrs. Seventon's eye across +the room, and rose to her feet. + +"You have left Mrs. Seventon alone all the evening," she said. "I must +go and talk to her." + +He stood before her--a little insistent. + +"I shall expect you at half-past four," he said. + +She shook her head. + +Oh, no. I have an engagement." + +"The next day, then." + +"Thank you! I would rather you did not ask me. I have a great deal to +do just now. I will bring the girls to the lecture." + +"Wednesday week," he protested, "is a long way off." + +"You can go over to Enton," she laughed, "and get some more cheques from +your wonderful friend." + +"I wonder," he remarked, "why you dislike Lord Arranmore so much." + +"Instinct perhaps--or caprice," she answered, lightly. + +"The latter for choice," he answered. "I don't think that he is a man +to dislike instinctively. He rather affected me the other way." + +She was suddenly graver. + +"It is foolish of me," she remarked. "You will think so too, when I +tell you that my only reason is because of a likeness." + +"A likeness!" he repeated. + +She nodded. + +"He is exactly like a man who was once a friend of my father's, and who +did him a great deal of harm. My father was much to blame, I know, but +this man had a great influence over him, and a most unfortunate one. +Now don't you think I'm absurd?" + +"I think it is a little rough on Lord Arranmore," he answered, "don't +you?" + +"It would be if my likes or dislikes made the slightest difference to +him," she answered. "As it is, I don't suppose it matters." + +"Was this in England?" he asked. + +She shook her head. + +"No, it was abroad--in Montreal. I really must go to Mrs. Seventon. +She looks terribly bored." + +Brooks made no effort to detain her. He was looking intently at a +certain spot in the carpet. The coincidence--it was nothing more, of +course--was curious. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +CHARITY THE "CRIME" + +There followed a busy time for Brooks, the result of which was a very +marked improvement in his prospects. For the younger Morrison and his +partner, loth to lose altogether the valuable Enton connection, offered +Brooks a partnership in their firm. Mr. Ascough, who was Lord +Arranmore's London solicitor, and had been Brooks' guardian, after +careful consideration advised his acceptance, and there being nothing in +the way, the arrangements were pushed through almost at once. Mr. +Ascough, on the morning of his return to London, took the opportunity +warmly to congratulate Brooks. + +"Lord Arranmore has been marvellously kind to me," Brooks agreed. "To +tell you the truth, Mr. Ascough, I feel almost inclined to add +incomprehensibly kind." + +The older man stroked his grey moustache thoughtfully. + +"Lord Arranmore is eccentric," he remarked. "Has always been eccentric, +and will remain so, I suppose, to the end of the chapter. You are the +one who profits, however, and I am very glad of it." + +"Eccentricity," Brooks remarked, "is, of course, the only obvious +explanation of his generosity so far as I am concerned. But it has +occurred to me, Mr. Ascough, to wonder whether the friendship or +connection between him and my father was in any way a less slight thing +than I have been led to suppose." + +Mr. Ascough shrugged his shoulders. + +"Lord Arranmore," he said, "has told you, no doubt, all that there is to +be told." + +Brooks sat at his desk, frowning slightly, and tapping the +blotting-paper with a pen-holder. + +"All that Lord Arranmore has told me," he said, "is that my father +occupied a cabin not far from his on the banks of Lake Ono, that they +saw little of each other, and that he only found out his illness by +accident. That my father then disclosed his name, gave him his papers +and your address. There was merely the casual intercourse between two +Englishmen coming together in a strange country." + +"That is what I have always understood," Mr. Ascough agreed. "Have +you any reason to think otherwise? + +"No definite reason--except Lord Arranmore's unusual kindness to me," +Brooks remarked. "Lord Arranmore is one of the most self-centred men I +ever knew--and the least impulsive. Why, therefore, he should go out of +his way to do me a kindness I cannot understand." + +"If this is really an enigma to you," Mr. Ascough answered, "I cannot +help you to solve it. Lord Arranmore has been the reverse of +communicative to me. I am afraid you must fall back upon his lordship's +eccentricity." + +Mr. Ascough rose, but Brooks detained him. + +"You have plenty of time for your train," he said. "Will you forgive me +if I go over a little old ground with you--for the last time?" + +The lawyer resumed his seat. + +"I am in no hurry," he said, "if you think it worth while." + +"My father came to you when he was living at Stepney--a stranger to +you." + +"A complete stranger," Mr. Ascough agreed. "I had never seen him +before in my life. I did a little trifling business for him in +connection with his property." + +"He told you nothing of his family or relatives?" + +"He told me that he had not a relation in the world." + +"You knew him slightly, then?" Brooks continued, "all the time he was in +London? And when he left for that voyage he came to you." + +"Yes." + +"He made over his small income then to my mother in trust for me. Did +it strike you as strange that he should do this instead of making a +will?" + +"Not particularly," Mr. Ascough declared. "As you know, it is not an +unusual course." + +"It did not suggest to you any determination on his part never to return +to England?" + +"Certainly not." + +"He left England on friendly terms with my mother?" + +"Certainly. She and he were people for whom I and every one who knew +anything of their lives had the highest esteem and admiration." + +"You can imagine no reason, then, for my father leaving England for +good?" + +"Certainly not!" + +"You know of no reason why he should have abandoned his trip to +Australia and gone to Canada?" + +"None!" + +"His doing so is as inexplicable to you as to me?" + +"Entirely." + +"You have never doubted Lord Arranmore's story of his death?" + +"Never. Why should I?" + +"One more question," Brooks said. "Do you know that lately I have met a +traveller--a man who visited Lord Arranmore in Canada, and who declared +to his certain knowledge there was no other human dwelling-house within +fifty miles of Lord Arranmore's cabin?" + +"He was obviously mistaken." + +You think so? + +"It is certain." + +Brooks hesitated. + +"My question," he said, "will have given you some idea of the +uncertainty I have felt once or twice lately, owing to the report of the +traveller Lacroix, and Lord Arranmore's unaccountable kindness to me. +You see, he isn't an ordinary man. He is not a philanthropist by any +means, nor in any way a person likely to do kindly actions from the love +of them. Now, do you know of any facts, or can you suggest anything +which might make the situation clearer to me?" + +"I cannot, Mr. Brooks," the older man answered, without hesitation. +"If you take my advice, you will not trouble yourself any more with +fancies which seem to me--pardon me--quite chimerical. Accept Lord +Arranmore's kindness as the offshoot of some sentimental feeling which +he might well have entertained towards a fellow-countryman by whose +death-bed he had stood in that far-away, lonely country. You may even +yourself be mistaken in Lord Arranmore's character, and you can +remember, too, that after all what means so much to you costs him +nothing--is probably for his own advantage." + +Brooks rose and took up his hat. + +"I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Ascough," he said. "Yours, after +all, is the common-sense view of the affair. If you like I will walk up +to the station. I am going that way. . . ." + +So Brooks, convinced of their folly, finally discarded certain +uncomfortable thoughts which once or twice lately had troubled him. He +dined at Enton that night, and improved his acquaintance with Lady +Caroom and her daughter, who were still staying there. Although this +was not a matter which he had mentioned to Mr. Ascough, there was +something which he found more inexplicable even than Lord Arranmore's +transference of the care of his estates to him, and that was the +apparent encouragement which both he and Lady Caroom gave to the +friendship between Sybil and himself. They had lunched with him twice +in Medchester, and more often still the Enton barouche had been kept +waiting at his office whilst Lady Caroom and Sybil descended upon him +with invitations from Lord Arranmore. After his talk with Mr. Ascough +he put the matter behind him, but it remained at times an inexplicable +puzzle. + +On the evening of this particular visit he found Sybil alone in a recess +of the drawing-room with a newspaper in her hand. She greeted him with +obvious pleasure. + +"Do come and tell me about things, Mr. Brooks," she begged. "I have +been reading the local paper. Is it true that there are actually people +starving in Medchester?" + +"There is a great deal of distress," he admitted, gravely. "I am afraid +that it is true." + +She looked at him with wide-open eyes. + +"But I don't understand," she said. "I thought that there were +societies who dealt with all that sort of thing, and behind, the--the +workhouse." + +"So there are, Lady Sybil," he answered, "but you must remember that +societies are no use unless people will subscribe to them, and that +there are a great many people who would sooner starve than enter the +workhouse." + +"But surely," she exclaimed, "there is no difficulty about getting +money--if people only understand." + +He watched her for a moment in silence--suddenly appreciating the +refinement, the costly elegance which seemed in itself to be a part of +the girl, and yet for which surely her toilette was in some way also +responsible. Her white satin dress was cut and fashioned in a style +which he was beginning to appreciate as evidence of skill and +costliness. A string of pearls around her throat gleamed softly in the +firelight. A chain of fine gold studded with opals and diamonds reached +almost to her knees. She wore few rings indeed, but they were such +rings as he had never seen before he had come as a guest to Enton. And +there were thousands like her. A momentary flash of thought carried him +back to the days of the French Revolution. There was a print hanging in +his room of a girl as fair and as proud as this one, surrounded by a +fierce rabble mad with hunger and the pent-up rage of generations, +tearing the jewels from her fingers, tearing even, he thought, the +trimming from her gown. + +"You do not answer me, Mr. Brooks," she reminded him. + +He recovered himself with a start. + +"I beg your pardon, Lady Sybil. Your question set me thinking. We have +tried to make people understand, and many have given most generously, +but for all that we cannot cope with such distress as there is to-day in +Medchester. I am secretary for one of the distribution societies, and +I have seen things which are enough to sadden a man for life, only +during the last few days." + +"You have seen people--really hungry?" she asked, with something like +timidity in her face. + +He laughed bitterly. + +"That we see every moment of the time we spend down amongst them," he +answered. "I have seen worse things. I have seen the sapping away of +character--men become thieves and women worse--to escape from +starvation. That, I think, is the greatest tragedy of all. It makes +one shudder when one thinks that on the shoulders of many people some +portion of the responsibility at any rate for these things must rest." + +Her lips quivered. She emptied the contents of a gold chain purse into +her hands. + +"It is we who are wicked, Mr. Brooks," she said, "who spend no end of +money and close our ears to all this. Do take this, will you; can it go +to some of the women you know, and the children? There are only five or +six pounds there, but I shall talk to mamma. We will send you a +cheque." + +He took the money without hesitation. + +"I am very glad," he said, earnestly, "that you have given me this, that +you have felt that you wanted to give it me. I hope you won't think too +badly of me for coming over here to help you spend a pleasant evening, +and talking at all of such miserable things." + +"Badly!" she repeated. "No; I shall never be able to thank you enough +for telling me what you have done. It makes one feel almost wicked to +be sitting here, and wearing jewelry, and feeling well off, spending +money on whatever you want, and to think that there are people starving. +How they must hate us." + +"It is the wonderful part of it," he answered. "I do not believe that +they do. I suppose it is a sort of fatalism--the same sort of thing, +only much less ignoble, as the indifference which keeps our rich people +contented and deaf to this terribly human cry." + +"You are young," she said, looking at him, "to be so much interested in +such serious things." + +"It is my blood, I suppose," he answered. "My father was a police-court +missionary, and my mother the matron of a pauper hospital." + +"They are both dead, are they not?" she asked, softly. + +"Many years ago," he answered. + +Lady Caroom and Lord Arranmore came in together. A certain unusual +seriousness in Sybil's face was manifest. + +"You two do not seem to have been amusing yourselves," Lady Caroom +remarked, giving her hand to Brooks. + +"Mr. Brooks has been answering some of my questions about the poor +people," Sybil answered, "and it is not an amusing subject." + +Lord Arranmore laughed lightly, and there was a touch of scorn in the +slight curve of his fine lips and his raised eyebrows. He stood away +from the shaded lamplight before a great open fire of cedar logs, and +the red glow falling fitfully upon his face seemed to Brooks, watching +him with more than usual closeness, to give him something of a +Mephistopheles aspect. His evening clothes hung with more than ordinary +precision about his long slim body, his black tie and black pearl stud +supplied the touch of sombreness so aptly in keeping with the mirthless, +bitter smile which still parted his lips. + +"You must not take Mr. Brooks too seriously on the subject of the poor +people," he said, the mockery of his smile well matched in his tone. +"Brooks is an enthusiast--one, I am afraid, of those misguided people +who have barred the way to progress for centuries. If only they could +be converted!" + +Lady Caroom sighed. + +"Oh, dear, how enigmatic!" she exclaimed. "Do be a little more +explicit." + +"Dear lady," he continued, turning to her, "it is not worth while. Yet +I sometimes wonder whether people realize how much harm this hysterical +philanthropy--this purely sentimental faddism, does; how it retards the +natural advance of civilization, throws dust in people's eyes, salves +the easy conscience of the rich man, who bargains for immortality with a +few strokes of the pen, and finds mischievous occupation for a good many +weak minds and parasitical females. Believe me, that all personal +charity is a mistake. It is a good deal worse than that. It is a +crime." + +Sybil rose up, and a little unusual flush had stained her cheeks. + +"I still do not understand you in the least, Lord Arranmore," she said. +"It seems to me that you are making paradoxical and ridiculous +statements, which only bewilder us. Why is charity a crime? That is +what I should like to hear you explain." + +Lord Arranmore bowed slightly. + +"I had no idea," he said, leaning his elbow upon the mantelpiece, "that +I was going to be inveigled into a controversy. But, my dear Sybil, I +will do my best to explain to you what I mean, especially as at your age +you are not likely to discover the truth for yourself. In the first +place, charity of any sort is the most insidious destroyer of moral +character which the world has ever known. The man who once accepts it, +even in extremes, imbibes a poison from which his system can never be +thoroughly cleansed. You let him loose upon society, and the evil which +you have sown in him spreads. He is like a man with an infectious +disease. He is a source of evil to the community. You have relieved a +physical want, and you have destroyed a moral quality. I do not need to +point out to you that the balance is on the wrong side." + +Sybil glanced across at Brooks, and he smiled back at her. + +"Lord Arranmore has not finished yet," he said. "Let us hear the +worst." + +Their host smiled. + +"After all," he said, "why do I waste my breath? From the teens to the +thirties sentiment smiles. It is only later on in life that reason has +any show at all. Yet you should ask yourselves, you eager self-denying +young people, who go about with a healthy moral glow inside because you +have fed the poor, or given an hour or so of your time to the +distribution of reckless charity-you should ask yourselves: What is the +actual good of ministering to the outward signs of an internal disease? +You are simply trying to renovate the outside when the inside is filthy. +Don't you see, my dear young people, that to give a meal to one starving +man may be to do him indeed good, but it does nothing towards +preventing another starving man from taking his place to-morrow. You +stimulate the disease, you help it to spread. Don't you see where +instead you should turn--to the social laws, the outcome of which is +that starving man? You let them remain unharmed, untouched, while you +fall over one another in frantic efforts to brush away to-day's effect +of an eternal cause. Let your starving man die, let the bones break +through his skin and carry him up--him and his wife and their children, +and their fellows--to your House of Commons. Tell them that there are +more to-morrow, more the next day, let the millions of the lower classes +look this thing in the face. I tell you that either by a revolution, +which no doubt some of us would find worse than inconvenient, or by less +drastic means, the thing would right itself. You, who work to relieve +the individual, only postpone and delay the millennium. People will +keep their eyes closed as long as they can. It is you who help them to +do so." + +"Dinner is served, my lord," the butler announced. + +Lord Arranmore extended his arm to Lady Caroom. + +"Come," he said, "let us all be charitable to one another, for I too am +starving." + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +AN AWKWARD QUESTION + +"You think they really liked it, then?" + +"How could they help it? It was such a delightful idea of yours, and I +am sure all that you said was so simple and yet suggestive. Good-night, +Mr. Brooks." + +They stood in the doorway of the Secular Hall, where Brooks had just +delivered his lecture. It seemed to him that her farewell was a little +abrupt. + +"I was going to ask," he said, "whether I might not see you home." + +She hesitated. + +"Really," she said, "I wish you would not trouble. It is quite a long +way, and I have only to get into a car. + +"The further the better," he answered, "and besides, if your uncle is at +home I should like to come in and see him." + +She made no further objection, yet Brooks fancied that her acquiescence +was, to some extent, involuntary. He walked by her side in silence for +a moment or two, wondering whether there was indeed any way in which he +could have offended her. + +"I have not seen you," he remarked, "since the evening of your +dinner-party." + +"No!" + +"You were out when I called." + +"I have so many things to do--just now. We can get a car here." + +He looked at it. + +"It is too full," he said. "Let us walk on for a little way. I want to +talk to you." + +The car was certainly full, so after a moment's hesitation she +acquiesced. + + +"You will bring your girls again, I hope?" he asked. + +"They will come I have no doubt," she answered. "So will I if I am in +Medchester." + +"You are going away?" + +"I hope so," she answered. "I am not quite sure." + +"Not for good?" Possibly." + +"Won't you tell me about it?" he asked. + +"Well--I don't know!" + +She hesitated for a moment. + +"I will tell you if you like," she said, doubtfully. "But I do not wish +anything said about it at present, as my arrangements are not complete." + +"I will be most discreet," he promised. + +"I have been doing a little work for a woman's magazine in London, and +they have half promised me a definite post on the staff. I am to hear +in a few days as to the conditions. If they are satisfactory--that is +to say, if I can keep myself on what they offer--I shall go and live in +London." + +He was surprised, and also in a sense disappointed. It was astonishing +to find how unpleasant the thought of her leaving Medchester was to him. + +"I had no idea of this," he said, thoughtfully. "I did not know that +you went in for anything of the sort." + +"My literary ambitions are slight enough," she answered. "Yet you can +scarcely be surprised that I find the thought of a definite career and a +certain amount of independence attractive." + +He stole a sidelong glance at her. In her plainly made clothes and quiet +hat she was scarcely, perhaps, a girl likely to attract attention, yet +he was conscious of certain personal qualities, which he had realized +and understood from the first. She carried herself well, she walked +with the free graceful movements of a well-bred and healthy girl. In +her face was an air of quiet thought, the self-possession of the woman +of culture and experience. Her claim to good looks was, after all, +slight enough, yet on studying her he came to the conclusion that she +could if she chose appear to much greater advantage. Her hair, soft and +naturally wavy, was brushed too resolutely back; her smile, which was +always charming, she suffered to appear only at the rarest intervals. +She suggested a life of repression, and with his knowledge of the +Bullsom menage he was able to surmise some glimmering of the truth. + +"You are right," he declared. "I think that I can understand what your +feeling must be. I am sure I wish you luck." + +The touch of sympathy helped her to unbend. She glanced towards him +kindly. + +"Thank you," she said. "Of course there will be difficulties. My uncle +will not like it. He is very good-natured and very hospitable, and I am +afraid his limitations will not permit him to appreciate exactly how I +feel about it. And my aunt is, of course, merely his echo." + +"He will not be unreasonable," Brooks said. "I am sure of that. For a +man who is naturally of an obstinate turn of mind I think your uncle is +wonderful. He makes great efforts to free himself from all prejudices." + +"Unfortunately," she remarked, "he is very down on the independent +woman. He would make housekeepers and cooks of all of us." + +"Surely," he protested, with a quiet smile, "your cousins are more +ambitious than that. I am sure Selina would never wear a cooking-apron, +unless it had ribbon and frilly things all over it." + +She laughed. + +"After all, they have been kind to me," she said. "My mother was the +black sheep of the family, and when she died Mr. Bullsom paid my +passage home, and insisted upon my coming to live here as one of the +family. I should hate them to think that I am discontented, only the +things which satisfy them do not satisfy me, so life sometimes becomes a +little difficult." + +"Have you friends in London?" he asked. + +"None! I tried living there when I first came back for a few weeks, but +it was impossible." + +"You will be very lonely, surely. London is the loneliest of all great +cities." + +"Why should I not make friends?" + +"That is what I too asked myself years ago when I was articled there," +he answered. "Yet it is not so easy as it sounds. Every one seems to +have their own little circle, and a solitary person remains so often +just outside. Yet if you have friends--and tastes--London is a +paradise. Oh, how fascinating I used to find it just at first--before +the chill came. You, too, will feel that. You will be content at first +to watch, to listen, to wonder! Every type of humanity passes before +you like the jumbled-up figures of a kaleidoscope. You are content even +to sit before a window in a back street--and listen. What a sound that +is--the roar of London, the voices of the street, the ceaseless hum, the +creaking of the great wheel of humanity as it goes round and round. And +then, perhaps, in a certain mood the undernote falls upon your ear, the +bitter, long-drawn-out cry of the hopeless and helpless. When you have +once heard it, life is never the same again. Then, if you do not find +friends, you will know what misery is." + +They were both silent for a few minutes. A car passed them unnoticed. +Then she looked at him curiously. + +"For a lawyer," she remarked, "you are a very imaginative person." + +He laughed. + +"Ah, well, I was talking just then of how I felt in those days. I was a +boy then, you know. I dare say I could go back now to my old rooms and +live there without a thrill." + +She shook her head. + +"What one has once felt," she murmured, "comes back always." + +"Sometimes only the echo," he answered, "and that is weariness." + +They walked for a little way in silence. Then she spoke to him in an +altered tone. + +"I have heard a good deal about you during the last few weeks," she +said. "You are very much to be congratulated, they tell me. I am sure +I am very glad that you have been so fortunate." + +"Thank you," he answered. "To tell you the truth, it all seems very +marvellous to me. Only a few months ago your uncle was almost my only +client of importance." + +"Lord Arranmore was your father's friend though, was he not?" + +"They came together abroad," he answered, "and Lord Arranmore was with +my father when he died in Canada." + +She stopped short. + +Where? + +"In Canada, on the banks of Lake Ono, if you know where that is," he +answered, looking at her in surprise. + +She resumed her usual pace, but he noticed that she was pale. + +"So Lord Arranmore was in Canada?" she said. "Do you know how long +ago?" + +"About ten years, I suppose," he answered. "How long before that I do +not know." + +She was silent for several minutes, and they found themselves in the +drive leading to the Bullsom villa. Brooks was curious. + +"I wonder," he asked, "whether you will tell me why you are interested +in Lord Arranmore--and Canada?" + +"I was born in Montreal," she answered, "and I once saw some one very +much like Lord Arranmore there. But I am convinced that it could only +have been a resemblance." + +"You mentioned it before--when we saw him in Mellor's," he remarked. + +"Yes, it struck me then," she admitted. "But I am sure that Lord +Arranmore could not have been the person whom I am thinking about. It +is ridiculous of me to attach so much importance to a mere likeness." + +They stood upon the doorstep, but she checked him as he reached out for +the bell. + +"You have seen quite a good deal of him," she said. "Tell me what you +think of Lord Arranmore." His hand fell to his side. He stood under the +gas-bracket, and she could see his face distinctly. There was a slight +frown upon his forehead, a look of trouble in his grey eyes. + +"You could not have asked me a more difficult question," he admitted. +"Lord Arranmore has been very kind to me, although my claim upon him has +been of the slightest. He is very clever, almost fantastic, in some of +his notions; he is very polished, and his manners are delightful. He +would call himself, I believe, a philosopher, and he is, although it +sounds brutal for me to say so, very selfish. And behind it all I +haven't the faintest idea what sort of a man he is. Sometimes he gives +one the impression of a strong man wilfully disguising his real +characteristics, for hidden reasons; at others, he is like one of those +brilliant Frenchmen of the last century, who toyed and juggled with +words and phrases, esteeming it a triumph to remain an unread letter +even to their intimates. So you see, after all," he wound up, "I cannot +tell you what I think of Lord Arranmore." + +"You can ring the bell," she said. "You must come in for a few +minutes." + +Their entrance together seemed to cause the little family party a +certain amount of disturbed surprise. The girls greeted Brooks with a +great show of pleasure, but they looked doubtfully at Mary. + +"Did you meet at the front door?" Selina asked. "I thought I heard +voices." Brooks was a little surprised. + +"Your cousin brought her class of factory girls to my lecture to-night +at the Secular Hall." + +Selina's eyes narrowed a little, and she was silent for a moment. Then +she turned to her cousin. + +"You might have told us, Mary," she exclaimed, reproachfully. "We +should so much have liked to come, shouldn't we, Louise?" + +"Of course we should," Louise answered, snappishly. "I can't think why +Mary should go off without saying a word." + +Mary looked at them both and laughed. "Well," she said, "I have left +the house at precisely the same time on 'Wednesday evenings all through +the winter, and neither of you have said anything about coming with me." + +"This is quite different," Selina answered, cuttingly. "We should very +much have enjoyed Mr. Brooks' lecture. Do tell us what it was about." + +"Don't you be bothered, Brooks," Mr. Bullsom exclaimed, hospitably. +"Sit down and try one of these cigars. We've had supper, but if you'd +like anything--" + +"Nothing to eat, thanks," Brooks protested. "I'll have a cigar if I +may." + +"And a whisky-and-soda, then," Mr. Bullsom insisted. "Say when!" + +Brooks turned to Selina. Mary had left the room. "You were asking +about the lecture," he said. "Really, it was only a very unpretentious +affair, and to tell you the truth, only intended for people whose +opportunities for reading have not been great. I am quite sure it would +not have been worth your while to come down. We just read a chapter or +so from A Tale of Two Cities, and talked about it." + +"We should have liked it very mulch," Selina declared. "Do tell us when +there is another one, will you?" + +"With pleasure," he answered. "I warn you, though, that you will be +disappointed." + +"We will risk that," Selina declared, with a smile. "Have you been to +Enton this week?" + +"I was there on Sunday," he answered. + +"And is that beautiful girl, Lady Sybil Caroom, still staying there? + +"Yes," he answered. "Is she very beautiful, by the bye?" + +"Well, I thought men would think so," Selina said, hastily. "I think +that she is just a little loud, don't you, Louise?" + +Louise admitted that the idea had occurred to her. + +"And her hair--isn't it badly dyed?" Selina remarked. "Such a pity. +It's all in patches." + +"I think girls ought not to make up in the street, either," Louise +remarked, primly. "A little powder in the house is all very +well"--(Louise had a nose which gave her trouble)--"but I really don't +think it looks respectable in the street." + +"I suppose," Selina remarked, "you men admire all that sort of thing, +don't you? + +"I really hadn't noticed it with Lady Sybil," Brooks admitted. + +Selina sighed. + +"Men are so blind," she remarked. "You watch next time you are close to +her, Mr. Brooks." + +"I will," he promised. "I'll get her between me and a window in a +strong north light." + +Selina laughed. + +"Don't be too unkind," she said. "That's the worst of you men. When +you do find anything out you are always so severe." + +"After all, though," Louise remarked, with a sidelong glance, "it must +be very, very interesting to meet these sort of people, even if one +doesn't quite belong to their set. I should think you must find every +one else quite tame, Mr. Brooks." + +"I can assure you I don't," he answered, coolly. "This evening has +provided me with quite as pleasant society as ever I should wish for." + +Selina beamed upon him. + +"Oh, Mr. Brooks, you are terrible. You do say such things!" she +declared, archly. + +Louise laughed a little hardly. + +"We mustn't take too much to ourselves, dear," she said. "Remember that +Mr. Brooks walked all the way up from the Secular Hall with Mary." + +Mr. Bullsom threw down his paper with a little impatient exclamation. + +"Come, come!" he said. "I want to have a few words with Brooks myself, +if you girls'll give me a chance. Heard anything from Henslow lately, +eh?" + +Brooks leaned forward. + +"Not a word!" he answered. + +Mr. Bullsom grunted. + +"H'm! He's taken his seat, and that's all he does seem to have done. To +have heard his last speech here before polling time you would have +imagined him with half-a-dozen questions down before now. He's letting +the estimates go by, too. There are half-a-dozen obstructors, all +faddists, but Henslow, with a real case behind him, is sitting tight. +'Pon my word, I'm not sure that I like the fellow." + +"I ventured to write to him the other evening," Brooks said, "and I have +sent him all the statistics we promised, he seems to have regarded my +letter as an impertinence, though, for he has never answered it." + +"You mark my words," Mr. Bullsom said, doubling the paper up and +bringing it down viciously upon his knee, "Henslow will never sit again +for Medchester. There was none too mulch push about him last session, +but he smoothed us all over somehow. He'll not do it again. I'm losing +faith in the man, Brooks." + +Brooks was genuinely disturbed. His own suspicions had been gathering +strength during the last few weeks. Henslow had been pleasant enough, +but a little flippant after the election. From London he had promised +to write to Mr. Bullsom, as chairman of his election committee, mapping +out the course of action which, in pursuance of his somewhat daring +pledges, he proposed to embark upon. This was more than a month ago, +and there had come not a single word from him. All that vague distrust +which Brooks had sometimes felt in the man was rekindled and increased, +and with it came a flood of bitter thoughts. Another opportunity then +was to be lost. For seven years longer these thousands of pallid, +heart-weary men and women were to suffer, with no one to champion their +cause. He saw again that sea of eager faces in the market-place, lit +with a sudden gleam of hope as they listened to the bold words of the +man who was promising them life and hope and better things. Surely if +this was a betrayal it was an evil deed, not passively to be borne. + +Mr. Bullsom had refreshed himself with whisky-and-water, and decided +that pessimism was not a healthy state of mind. + +"I tell you what it is, Brooks," he said, more cheerfully. "We mustn't +be too previous in judging the fellow. Let's write him civilly, and if +nothing comes of it in a week or two, we will run up to London, you and +me, eh? and just haul him over the coals." + +"You are right, Mr. Bullsom," Brooks said. "There is nothing we can do +for the present." + +"Please don't talk any more horrid politics," Selina begged. "We want +Mr. Brooks to give us a lesson at billiards. Do you mind?" + +Brooks rose at once. + +"I shall be charmed!" he declared. + +Mr. Bullsom rose also. + +"Pooh, pooh!" he said. "Brooks and I will have a hundred up and you can +watch us. That'll be lesson enough for you." + +Selina made a little grimace, but they all left the room together. In +the hall a housemaid was speaking at the telephone, and a moment +afterwards she laid the receiver down and came towards them. + +"It is a message for Mr. Brooks, sir, from the Queen's Hotel. Lord +Arranmore's compliments, and the ladies from Enton are at the theatre +this evening, and would be glad if Mr. Brooks would join them at the +Queen's Hotel for supper at eleven o'clock." + +Brooks hesitated, but Mr. Bullsom spoke up at once. + +"Off you go, Brooks," he said, firmly. "Don't you go refusing an +invitation like that. Lord Arranmore is a bit eccentric, they say, and +he isn't the sort of man to like refusals. You've just got time." + +"They had the message two hours ago, and have been trying everywhere to +find Mr. Brooks," the housemaid added. + +Selina helped him on with his coat. + +"Will you come another evening soon and play billiards with us?" she +asked, dropping her voice a little. + +"With pleasure," Brooks answered. "Do you mind saying good-bye to your +cousin for me? I am sorry not to see her again." + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A SUPPER-PARTY AT THE "QUEEN'S" + +Brooks was shown into a private room at the Queen's Hotel, and he +certainly had no cause to complain of the warmth of his welcome. Lady +Sybil, in fact, made room for him by her side, and he fancied that there +was a gleam of reproach in her eyes as she looked up at him. + +"Is Medchester really so large a place that one can get lost in it?" she +asked. "Lord Arranmore has been sending messengers in every direction +ever since we decided upon our little excursion. + +"I telephoned to your office, sent a groom to your rooms and to the +club, and at last we had given you up," Lord Arranmore remarked. + +"And I," Sybil murmured, "was in a shocking bad temper." + +"It is very good of you all," Brooks remarked, cheerfully. "I left the +office rather early, and have been giving a sort of lecture to-night at +the Secular Hall. Then I went up to have a game of billiards with Mr. +Bullsom. Your telephone message found me there. You must remember that +even if Medchester is not a very large place I am a very unimportant +person." + +"Dear me, what modesty," Lady Caroom remarked, laughing. "To us, +however, you happened to be very important. I hate a party of three." + +Brooks helped himself to a quail, and remembered that he was hungry. + +"This is very unusual dissipation, isn't it?" he asked. "I never +dreamed that you would be likely to come into our little theatre." + +"It was Sybil's doings," Lady Caroom answered. "She declared that she +was dull, and that she had never seen A /Message from Mars./ I think +that all that serious talk the other evening gave her the blues." + +"I am always dull in the winter when there is no hunting," Sybil +remarked. "This frost is abominable. I have not forgotten our talk +either. I feel positively wicked every time I sip champagne." + +"Our young philanthropist will reassure you," Arranmore remarked, drily. + +Lady Caroom sighed. + +"I wonder how it is," she murmured, "that one's conscience and one's +digestion both grow weaker as one grows old. You and I, Arranmore, are +content to accept the good things of the earth as they come to us." + +"With me," he answered, "it is the philosophy of approaching old age, +but you have no such excuse. With you it must be sheer callousness. +You are in an evil way, Lady Caroom. Do have another of these quails." + +"You are very rude," she answered, "and extremely unsympathetic. But I +will have another quail." + +"I do not Want to destroy your appetite, Mr. Brooks," Lady Sybil said, +"but this is--if not a farewell feast, something like it." + +He looked at her with sudden interest. + +"You are going away?" he exclaimed. + +"Very soon," she assented. "We were so comfortable at Enton, and the +hunting has been so good, that we cut out one of our visits. Mamma +developed a convenient attack of influenza. But the next one is very +near now, and our host is almost tired of us." + +Lord Arranmore was for a moment silent. + +"You have made Enton," he said, "intolerable for a solitary man. When +you go I go." + +"I wish you could say whither instead of when," Lady Caroom answered. +"How bored you would be at Redcliffe. It is really the most outlandish +place we go to." + +"Why ever do we accept, mamma?" Sybil asked. "Last year I nearly cried +my eyes out, I was so dull. Not a man fit to talk to, or a horse fit to +ride. The girls bicycle, and Lord Redcliffe breeds cattle and talks +turnips." + +"And they all drink port after dinner," Lady Caroom moaned; "but we have +to go, dear. We must live rent free somewhere during these months to +get through the season." + +Sybil looked at Brooks with laughter in her eyes. + +"Aren't we terrible people?" she whispered. "You are by way of being +literary, aren't you? You should write an article on the shifts of the +aristocracy. Mamma and I could supply you with all the material. The +real trouble, of course, is that I don't marry." + +"Fancy glorying in your failure," Lady Caroom said, complacently. +"Three seasons, Arranmore, have I had to drag that girl round. I've +washed my hands of her now. She must look after herself. A girl who +refuses one of the richest young men in England because she didn't like +his collars is incorrigible." + +"It was not his collars, mother," Sybil objected. "It was his neck. He +was always called 'the Giraffe.' He had no head and all neck--the most +fatuous person, too. I hate fools." + +"That is where you lack education, dear," Lady Caroom answered. "A fool +is the most useful person--for a husband." + +Sybil glanced towards Brooks with a little sigh, and, catching a glimpse +of his expression, burst out laughing. + +"Mother, you must really not let your tongue run away with you. Mr. +Brooks is believing every word you say. You needn't," she murmured in a +discreet undertone. "Mother and I chaff one another terribly, but we're +really very nicely-behaved persons--for our station in life." + +"Lady Caroom has such a delightfully easy way of romancing," Brooks +said. + +Sybil nodded. + +"It's quite true," she answered. "She ought to write the prospectuses +for gold mines and things." + +Arranmore smiled across the table at Brooks. + +"This," he said, "is what I have had to endure for the last six weeks. +Do you wonder that I am getting balder, or that I set all my people to +work tonight to try and find some one to suffer with me?" + +"He'll be so dull when we've gone," Lady Caroom sighed. + +"You've no idea how we've improved him," Sybil murmured. "He used to +read Owen Meredith after dinner, and go to sleep. By the bye, where are +you going when we leave Enton?" + +Lord Arranmore hesitated. + +"Well, I really am not sure," he said. "You have alarmed me. Don't +go." + +Lady Caroom laughed. + +"My dear man," she said, "we must! I daren't offend the Redcliffes. +He's my trustee, and he'll never let me overdraw a penny unless I'm +civil to him. If I were you I should go to the Riviera. We'll lend +you our cottage at Lugiano. It has been empty for a year." + +"Come and be hostess," he said. "I promise you that I will not hesitate +then." + +She shook her head towards Sybil. + +"How can I marry that down there?" she demanded. "No young men who are +really respectable go abroad at this time of the year. They are all +hunting or shooting. The Riviera is thronged with roues and invalids +and adventurers, and we don't want any of them. Dear me, what +sacrifices a grown-up daughter does entail. This coming season shall be +your last, Sybil. I won't drag on round again. I'm really getting +ashamed of it." + +"Isn't she dreadful?" Sybil murmured to Brooks. "I hope you will come +to Enton before we leave." + +"It is very kind of you, Lady Sybil," Brooks said, "but you must +remember that I am not like most of the men you meet. I have to work +hard, especially just now." + +"And if I were you I would be thankful for it," she said, warmly. "From +our point of view, at any rate, there is nothing so becoming to a man as +the fact that he is a worker. Sport is an excellent thing, but I detest +young men who do nothing else but shoot and hunt and loaf about. It +seems to me to destroy character where work creates it. All the same, I +hope you will find an opportunity to come to Enton and say good-bye to +us." + +Brooks was suddenly conscious that it would be no pleasant thing to say +good-bye to Lady Sybil. He had never known any one like her, so +perfectly frank and girlish, and yet with character enough underneath +in her rare moments of seriousness. More than ever he was struck with +the wonderful likeness between mother and daughter. + +"I will come at any time I am asked," he answered, quietly, "but I am +sorry that you are going." + +They had finished supper, and had drawn their chairs around the fire. +Arranmore was smoking a cigarette, and Brooks took one from his case. +The carriage was ordered in a quarter of an hour. Brooks found that he +and Sybil were a little apart from the others. + +"Do you know, I am sorry too," she declared. "Of course it has been +much quieter at Enton than most of the houses we go to, and we only came +at first, I think, because many years ago my mother and Lord Arranmore +were great friends, and she fancied that he was shutting himself up +too much. But I have enjoyed it very much indeed." + +He looked at her curiously. He was trying to appreciate what a life of +refined pleasure which she must live would really be like--how +satisfying--whether its limitations ever asserted themselves. Sybil was +a more than ordinarily pretty girl, but her face was as smooth as a +child's. The Joie de vivre seemed to be always in her eyes. Yet there +were times, as he knew, when she was capable of seriousness. + +"I am glad," he said, "Lord Arranmore will miss you." + +She laughed at him, her eyebrows raised, a challenge in her bright eyes. + +"May I add that I also shall?" he whispered. + +"You may," she answered. "In fact, I expected it. I am not sure that I +did not ask for it. And that reminds me. I want you to do me a favour, +if you will." + +"Anything I can do for you," he answered, "you know will give me +pleasure." + +She laughed softly. + +"It is wonderful how you have improved," she murmured. "I want you to +go and see Lord Arranmore as often as you can. We are both very fond of +him really, mamma especially, and you know that he has a very strange +disposition. I am convinced that solitude is the very worst thing for +him. I saw him once after he had been alone for a month or two, and +really you would not have known him. He was as thin as a skeleton, +strange in his manner, and he had that sort of red light in his eyes +sometimes which always makes me think of mad people. He ought not to be +alone at all, but the usual sort of society only bores him. You will do +what you can, won't you?" + +"I promise you that most heartily," Brooks declared. "But you must +remember, Lady Sybil, that after all it is entirely in his hands. He +has been most astonishingly kind to me, considering that I have no +manner of claim upon him. He has made me feel at home at Enton, too, +and been most thoughtful in every way. For, after all, you see I am +only his man of business. I have no friends much, and those whom I +have are Medchester people. You see I am scarcely in a position to +offer him my society. But all the same, I will take every opportunity I +can of going to Enton if he remains there." + +She thanked him silently. Lady Caroom was on her feet, and Sybil and +she went out for their wraps. Lord Arranmore lit a fresh cigarette and +sent for his bill. + +"By the bye, Brooks," he remarked, "one doesn't hear much of your man +Henslow." + +"Mr. Bullsom and I were talking about it this evening," Brooks +answered. "We are getting a little anxious. + +"You have had seven years of him. You ought to know what to expect." + +"The war has blocked all legislation," Brooks said. "It has been the +usual excuse. Henslow was bound to wait. He would have done the +particular measures which we are anxious about more harm than good if he +had tried to force them upon the land. But now it is different. We are +writing to him. If nothing comes of it, Mr. Bullsom and I are going up +to see him." + +Arranmore smiled. + +"You are young to politics, Brooks," he remarked, "yet I should scarcely +have thought that you would have been imposed upon by such a man as +Henslow. He is an absolute fraud. I heard him speak once, and I read +two of his speeches. It was sufficient. The man is not in earnest. He +has some reason, I suppose, for wishing to write M.P. after his name, +but I am perfectly certain that he has not the slightest idea of +carrying out his pledges to you. You will have to take up politics, +Brooks." + +He laughed--a little consciously. + +"Some day," he said, "the opportunity may come. I will confess that +it is amongst my ambitions. But I have many years' work before me yet." + +Lord Arranmore paid the bill, and they joined the women. As Brooks +stood bareheaded upon the pavement Arranmore turned towards him. + +"We must have a farewell dinner," he said. "How would to-morrow suit +you--or Sunday?" + +"I should like to walk over on Sunday, if I might," Brooks answered, +promptly. + +"We shall expect you to lunch. Good-night." + +The carriage drove off. Brooks walked thoughtfully through the silent +streets to his rooms. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +UNCLE AND NIECE + +Mr. Bullsom was an early riser, and it chanced that, as was frequently +the case, on the morning following Brooks' visit he and Mary sat down +to breakfast together. But when, after a cursory glance through his +letters, he unfolded the paper, she stopped him. + +"Uncle," she said, "I want to talk to you for a few minutes, if I may." + +"Go ahead," he answered. "No fear of our being interrupted. I shall +speak to those girls seriously about getting up. Now, what is it? + +"I want to earn my own living, uncle," she said, quietly. + +He looked over his spectacles at her. + +"Eh?" + +"I want to earn my own living," she repeated. "I have been looking +about for a means of doing so, and I think that I have succeeded." + +Mr. Bullsom took off his spectacles and wiped them carefully. + +"Earn your own living, eh!" he repeated. "Well! Go on!" + +Mary leaned across the table towards him. + +"Don't think that I am not grateful for all you have done for me, +uncle," she said. "I am, indeed. Only I have felt lately that it was +my duty to order my life a little differently. I am young and strong, +and able to work. There is no reason why I should be a burden upon any +one." + +She found his quietness ominous, but she did not flinch. + +"I am not accomplished enough for a governess, or good-tempered enough +for a companion," she continued, "but I believe I have found something +which I can do. I have written several short stories for a woman's +magazine, and they have made me a sort of offer to do some regular work +for them. What they offer would just keep me. I want to accept." + +"Where should you live?" he asked. + +"In London!" + +"Alone? + +"There is a girls' club in Chelsea somewhere. I should go there at +first, and then try and share rooms with another girl." + +"How much a week will they give you?" + +"Twenty-eight shillings, and I shall be allowed to contribute regularly +to the magazine at the usual rates. I ought to make at least forty +shillings a week." + +Mr. Bullsom sighed. + +"Is this owing to any disagreement between you and the girls?" he asked, +sharply. + +"Certainly not," she answered. + +"You ain't unhappy here? Is there anything we could do? I don't want +to lose you." + +Mary was touched. She had expected ridicule or opposition. This was +more difficult. + +"Of course I am not unhappy," she answered. "You and aunt have been +both of you most generous and kind to me. But I do feel that a busy +life--and I'm not a bit domestic, you know would be good for me. I +believe, uncle, if you were in my place you would feel just like me. If +you were able to, I expect you'd want to earn your own living." + +"You shall go!" he said, decidedly. "I'll help you all I can. You +shall have a bit down to buy furniture, if you want it, or an allowance +till you feel your way. But, Mary, I'm downright sorry. No, I'm not +blaming you. You've a right to go. I--I don't believe I'd live here if +I were you. + +"You are very good, uncle," Mary said, gratefully. "And you must +remember it isn't as though I were leaving you alone. You have the +girls." + +Mr. Bullsom nodded. + +"Yes," he said, "I have the girls. Look here, Mary," he added, +suddenly, looking her in the face, "I want to have a word with you. I'm +going to talk plainly. Be honest with me." + +"Of course," she murmured. + +"It's about the girls. It's a hard thing to say, but somehow--I'm a bit +disappointed with them." + +She looked at him in something like amazement. + +"Yes, disappointed," he continued. "That's the word. I'm an uneducated +man myself--any fool can see that--but I did all I could to have them +girls different. They've been to the best school in Medchester, and +they've been abroad. They've had masters in most everything, and I've +had 'em taught riding and driving, and all that sort of thing, properly. +Then as they grew up I built this 'ouse, and came up to live here +amongst the people whom I reckoned my girls'd be sure to get to know. +And the whole thing's a damned failure, Mary. That's the long and short +of it." + +"Perhaps--a little later on" Mary began, hesitatingly. + +"Don't interrupt me," he said, brusquely. "This is the first honest +talk I've ever had about it, and it's doing me good. The girls'd like +to put it down to your mother and me, but I don't believe it. I'm +ashamed to say it, but I'm afraid it's the girls themselves. There's +something not right about them, but I'm blessed if I know what it is. +Their mother and I are a bit vulgar, I know, but I've done my best to +copy those who know how to behave--and I believe we'd get through for +what we are anywhere without giving offence. But my girls oughtn't to +be vulgar. It's education as does away with that, and I've filled em +chock-full of education from the time they were babies. It's run out of +them, Mary, like the sands through an hour-glass. They can speak +correctly, and I dare say they know all the small society tricks. But +that isn't everything. They don't know how to dress. They can spend +just as much as they like, and then you can come into the room in a +black gown as you made yourself, and you look a lady, and they don't. +That's the long and short of it. The only decent people who come to +this house are your friends, and they come to see you. There's young +Brooks, now. I've no son, Mary, and I'm fond of young men. I never +knew one I liked as I like him. My daughters are old enough to be +married, and I'd give fifty thousand pounds to have him for a son-in-law. +And, of course, he won't look at 'em. He sees it. He'll talk to you. +He takes no more notice of them than is civil. They fuss round him, and +all that, but they might save themselves the pains. It's hard lines, +Mary. I'm making money as no one knows on. I could live at Enton and +afford it. But what's the good of it? If people don't care to know us +here, they won't anywhere. Mary, how was it education didn't work with +them girls? Your mother was my own sister, and she married a +gentleman. He was a blackguard, but hang it, Mary, if I were you I'd +sooner be penniless and as you are than be my daughters with five +thousand apiece." + +There was an embarrassed silence. Then Mary faced the situation boldly. + +"Uncle," she said, "you are asking my advice. Is that it?" + +"If there's any advice you can give, for God's sake let's have it. But +I don't know as you can make black white." + +"Selina and Louise are good girls enough," she said, "but they are a +little spoilt, and they are a little limited in their ideas. A town +like this often has that effect. Take them abroad, uncle, for a year, +or, better still, if you can find the right person, get a companion for +them--a lady--and let her live in the house." + +"That's sound!" he answered. "I'll do it." + +"And about their clothes, uncle. Take them up to London, go to one of +the best places, and leave the people to make their things. Don't let +them interfere. Down here they've got to choose for themselves. They +wouldn't care about taking advice here, but in London they'd probably +be content to leave it. Take them up to town for a fortnight. Stay +at one of the best hotels, the Berkeley or the Carlton, and let them see +plenty of nice people. And don't be discouraged, uncle." + +"Where the devil did you get your common-sense from?" he inquired, +fiercely. "Your mother hadn't got it, and I'll swear your father +hadn't." + +She laughed heartily. + +"Above all, be firm with them, uncle," she said. "Put your foot down, +and stick to it. They'll obey you. + +"Obey me? Good Lord, I'll make 'em," Mr. Bullsom declared, +vigorously. "Mary, you're a brick. I feel quite cheerful. And, +remember this, my girl. I shall make you an allowance, but that's +nothing. Come to me when you want a bit extra, and if ever the young +man turns up, then I've got a word or two to say. Mind, I shall only be +giving you your own. My will's signed and sealed." + +She kissed him fondly. + +"You're a good sort, uncle," she said. "And now will you tell me what +you think of this letter?" + +"Read it to me, dear," he said. "My eyes aren't what they were." + +She obeyed him. + +"41, BUCKLESBURY, LONDON, E. C. + +"DEAR MADAM, + +"We have received a communication from our agents at Montreal, asking us +to ascertain the whereabouts of Miss Mary Scott, daughter of Richard +Scott, at one time a resident in that city. + +"We believe that you are the young lady in question, and if you will do +us the favour of calling at the above address, we may be able to give +you some information much to your advantage. + +"We are, dear madam, + +"Yours respectfully, + +"JONES AND LLOYD." + +Mr. Bullsom stroked his chin thoughtfully. + +"Sounds all right," he remarked. "Of course you'll go. But I always +understood that your father's relations were as poor as church mice." + +"Poorer, uncle! His father--my grandfather, that is--was a clergyman +with barely enough to live on, and his uncle was a Roman Catholic +priest. Both of them have been dead for years." + +"And your father--well, I know there was nothing there," Mr. Bullsom +remarked, thoughtfully. + +"You cabled out the money to bring me home," Mary reminded him. + +"Well, well!" Mr. Bullsom declared. "You must go and see these chaps. +There's no harm in that, at any rate. We must all have that trip to +London. I expect Brooks will be wanting to go and see Henslow. We'll +have to give that chap what for, I know." + +Selina sailed into the room in a salmon-coloured wrapper, which should +long ago have been relegated to the bath-room. She pecked her father on +the cheek and nodded to Mary. + +"Don't you see Mr. Brooks, dear?" her father remarked, with a twinkle +in his eye and something very much like a wink to Mary. + +Selina screamed, and looked fearfully around the room. + +"What do you mean, papa?" she exclaimed. "There is no one here." + +"Serve you right if there had been," Mr. Bullsom declared, gruffly. +"A pretty state to come down in the morning at past nine o'clock." + +Selina tossed her head. + +"I am going to dress directly after breakfast," she remarked. + +"Then if you'll allow me to say so," her father declared, "before +breakfast is the time to dress, and not afterwards. You're always the +same, Selina, underdressed when you think there's no one around to see +you, and overdressed when there is." + +Selina poured herself out some coffee and yawned. + +"La, papa, what do you know about it?" she exclaimed. + +"What my eyes tell me," Mr. Bullsom declared, sternly. "You've no +allowance to keep to. You've leave to spend what you want, and you're +never fit to be seen. There's Mary there taking thirty pounds a year +from me, and won't have a penny more, though she's heartily welcome to +it, and she looks a lady at any moment of the day." + +Selina drew herself up, and her eyes narrowed a little. + +"You're talking about what, you don't understand, pa," she answered with +dignity. "If you prefer Mary's style of dress"--she glanced with silent +disparagement at her cousin's grey skirt and plain white blouse--"well, +it's a matter of taste, isn't it? + +"Taste!" Mr. Bullsom replied, contemptuously. "Taste! What sort of +taste do you call that beastly rug on your shoulders, eh? Or your hair +rolled round and just a pin stuck through it? Looks as though it hadn't +been brushed for a week. Faugh! When your mother and I lived on two +pounds a week she never insulted me by coming down to breakfast in +such a thing." + +Selina eyed her father in angry astonishment. + +"Thing indeed!" she repeated. "This wrapper cost me four guineas, and +came from Paris. That shows how much you know about it." + +"From Paris, did it?" Mr. Bullsom retorted, fiercely. "Then up-stairs +you go and take it off. You girls have had your own way too much, and +I'm about tired of it." + +"I shall change it--after breakfast," Selina said, doubtfully. + +Mr. Bullsom threw open the door. + +"Up-stairs," he repeated, "and throw it into the rag-bag." + +Selina hesitated. Then she rose, and with scarlet cheeks and a poor +show of dignity, left the room. Mr. Bullsom drew himself up and beamed +upon Mary. + +"I'll show'em a bit," he declared, with great good-humour. "I may be +an ignorant old man, but I'm going to wake these girls up." + +Mary struggled for a moment, but her sense of humour triumphed. She +burst out laughing. + +"Oh, uncle, uncle," she exclaimed, "you're a wonderful man." + +He beamed upon her. + +"You come shopping with us in London," he said. "We'll have some fun." + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +FIFTEEN YEARS IN HELL + +"Really," Lady Caroom exclaimed, "Enton is the cosiest large house I was +ever in. Do throw that Bradshaw away, Arranmore. The one o'clock +train will do quite nicely." + +Lord Arranmore obeyed her literally. He jerked the volume lightly into +a far corner of the room and came over to her side. She was curled up +in a huge easy-chair, and her face caught by the glow of the dancing +firelight almost startled him by its youth. There was not a single sign +of middle age in the smooth cheeks, not a single grey hair, no sign of +weariness in the soft full eyes raised to his. + +She caught his glance and smiled. + +"The firelight is so becoming!" she murmured. + +"Don't go!" he said. + +"My dear Arranmore. The Redcliffes would never forgive me, and we must +go some time." + +"I don't see the necessity," he answered, slowly. "You like Enton. +Make it your home." + +She raised her eyebrows. + +"How improper!" "Not necessarily," he answered. "Take me too." + +She sat up in her chair and regarded him steadily. + +"Am I to regard this," she asked, "as an offer of marriage?" + +"Well, it sounds like it," he admitted. + +"Dear me. You might have given me a little more notice," she said. +"Let me think for a moment, please." + +Perhaps their thoughts travelled back in the same direction. He +remembered his cousin and his playfellow, the fairest and daintiest girl +he had ever seen, his best friend, his constant companion. He +remembered the days when she had first become something more to him, the +miseries of that time, his hopeless ineligibility--the separation. Then +the years of absence, the terrible branding years of his life, the +horrible pit, the time when night and day his only prayer had been the +prayer for death. The self-repression of years seemed to grow weaker and +weaker. He held out his hands. But she hesitated. + +"Dear," she said, "you make me very happy. It is wonderful to think +this may come after all these years. But there is something which I +wish to say to you first." + +"Well?" + +"You are very, very dear to me now--as you are--but you are not the man +I loved years ago. You are a very different person indeed. Sometimes I +am almost afraid of you. + +"You have no cause to be," he said. "Indeed, you have no cause to be. +So far as you are concerned I have never changed. I am the same man." + +She took one of his hands in hers. + +"Philip," she said, "you must not think hardly of me. You must not +think of me as simply afflicted with the usual woman's curiosity. I am +not curious at all. I would rather not know. But remember that for +nearly twenty years you passed out of my life. You have come back again +wonderfully altered. You do not wish to keep the story of those years +for ever a sort of Bluebeards chamber in our lives?" + +"Not I," he answered. "I would have you do as I have done, rip them out +page and chapter, annihilate them utterly. What have they to do with +the life before us? To you they would seem evil enough, to me they are +thronged with horrible memories, with memories which, could I take them +with me, would poison heaven itself. So let us blot them out for ever. +Come to me, Catherine, and help me to forget." + +She looked at him with strained eyes. + +"Philip," she said, "I must understand you. I must understand what has +made you the man you are." + +"Fifteen years in hell has done it," he answered, fiercely. "Not even +my memory shall ever take me back." + +"If I marry you," she said, "remember that I marry your past as well as +your future. And there are things--which need explanation." + +"Well?" + +"You have been married." + +"She is dead." + +"You have a son." + +He reeled as though he had been struck, and the silence between them was +as the silence of tragedy. + +"You see," she continued, "I am bound to ask you to lift the curtain a +little. Fate or instinct, or whatever you may like to call it, has led +me a little way. I am not afraid to know. I have seen too much of life +to be a hard judge. But you must hold out your hand and take me a +little further." + +"I cannot." + +She held him tightly. Her voice trembled a little. "Dear, you +must. I am not an exacting woman, and I love you too well to be a +hard judge of anything you might have to tell me. Ignorance is the only +thing which I cannot bear. Remember how greatly you are changed, you +are almost a stranger to me in some of your moods. I could not have +you wandering off into worlds of which I knew nothing. Sit down by my +side and talk to me. I will ask no questions. You shall tell me your +own way, and what you wish to leave out--leave it out. Come, is this so +hard a task?" + +He seemed frozen into inanition. His face was like the cast of a dead +man's. His voice was cold and hopeless. + +"The key," he said, "is gone. I shall never seek for it, I shall never +find it. I have known what madness is, and I am afraid. Shall we go +into the hall? I fancy that they are serving tea." + +She looked at him, half terrified, half amazed. + +"You mean this as final?" she said, deliberately. "You refuse to offer +any explanation, the explanation which common decency even would require +of these things?" + +"I expected too much," he answered. "I know it very well. Forgive me, +and let us forget." + +She rose to her feet. + +"I do not know that you will ever regret this," she said. "I pray that +you may." + +To Brooks she seemed the same charming woman as usual, as he heard her +light laugh come floating across the hall, and bowed over her white +fingers. But Sybil saw the over-bright eyes and nervous mouth and had +hard work to keep back the tears. She piled the cushions about a dark +corner of the divan, and chattered away recklessly. + +"This is a night of sorrows," she exclaimed, pouring out the tea. "Mr. +Brooks and I were in the midst of a most affecting leave-taking--when +the tea came. Why do these mundane things always break in upon the most +sacred moments?" + +"Life," Lady Caroom said, helping herself recklessly to muffin, "is +such a wonderful mixture of the real and the fanciful, the actual and +the sentimental, one is always treading on the heels of the other. The +little man who turns the handle must have lots of fun." + +"If only he has a sense of humour," Brooks interposed. "After all, +though, it is the grisly, ugly things which float to the top. One has +to probe always for the beautiful, and it requires our rarest and most +difficult sense to apprehend the humorous." + +Lord Arranmore stirred his tea slowly. His face was like the face of a +carved image. Only Brooks seemed still unconscious of the shadow which +was stalking amongst them. + +"We talk of life so glibly," he said. "It is a pity that we cannot +realize its simplest elements. Life is purely subjective. Nothing +exists except in our point of view. So we are continually making and +marring our own lives and the lives of other people by a word, an +action, a thought." + +"Dear me!" Lady Caroom murmured. "How-ever shall I be able to play +bridge after tea if you all try to addle my brain by paradoxes and +subtle sayings beforehand! What does Arranmore mean?" + +He put down his cup. + +"Do not dare to understand me," he said. "It is the most sincere +unkindness when one talks only to answer. And as for bridge--remember +that this is a night of mourning. Bridge is far too frivolous a +pursuit." + +"Bridge a frivolous pursuit?" Sybil exclaimed. "Heavens, what +sacrilege. What ought we to do, Lord Arranmore?" + +"Sit in sackcloth and ashes, and hear Brooks lecture on the poor," he +answered, lightly. "Brooks is a mixture of the sentimentalist and the +hideous pessimist, you know, and it is the privilege of his years to be +sometimes in earnest. I know nothing more depressing than to listen to +a man who is in earnest." + +"You are getting positively light-headed," Sybil laughed. "I can see no +pleasure in life save that which comes from an earnest pursuit of +things, good or evil." + +"My dear child," Lord Arranmore answered, "when you are a little older +you will know that to take life seriously is a sheer impossibility. You +may think that you are doing it, but you are not." + +"There must be exceptions," Sybil declared. + +"There are none," Lord Arranmore answered, lightly, "outside the +madhouse. For the realization of life comes only hand in hand with +insanity. The people who have come nearest to it carry the mark with +them all their life. For the fever of knowledge will scorch even those +who peer over the sides of the cauldron." + +Lady Caroom helped herself to some more tea. + +"Really, Arranmore," she drawled, "for sheer and unadulterated pessimism +you are unsurpassed. You must be a very morbid person." + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"One is always called morbid," he remarked, "who dares to look towards +the truth." + +"There are people," Lady Caroom answered, "who look always towards the +clouds, even when the sun is shining." + +"I am in the minority," Lord Arranmore said, smiling. "I feel myself +becoming isolated. Let us abandon the subject." + +"No, let us convert you instead," Sybil declared. "We want to look at +the sun, and we want to take you with us. You are really a very stupid +person, you know. Why do you want to stay all alone amongst the +shadows?" Arranmore smiled faintly. + +"The sun shines," he said, "only for those who have eyes to see it." + +"Blindness is not incurable," she answered. + +"Save when the light in the eyes is dead," he answered. "Come, shall we +play a game at fourhanded billiards?" + +It resolved itself into a match between Lady Caroom and Lord Arranmore, +who were both players far above the average. Sybil and Brooks talked, +but for once her attention wandered. She seemed listening to the +click of the billiard-balls, and watching the man and the woman between +whom all conversation seemed dead. Brooks noticed her absorption, and +abandoned his own attempts to interest her. + +"Your mother and Lord Arranmore," he remarked, "are very old friends." + +"They have known one another all their lives," she murmured. "Lord +Arranmore has changed a good deal though since his younger days." + +Brooks made no reply. The girl suddenly bent her head towards him. + +"Are you a judge of character?" she asked. + +He shook his head. + +"Scarcely. I have not had enough experience. It is a fascinating +study." + +"Very. Now I want to ask you something. What do you think of Lord +Arranmore?" + +Her tone betokened unusual seriousness. His light answer died away on +his lips. + +"It is very hard for me to answer that question," he said. "Lord +Arranmore has been most unnecessarily kind to me." + +"His character?" + +"I do not pretend to be able to understand it. I think that he is often +wilfully misleading. He does not wish to be understood. He delights in +paradoxy and moral gymnastics." + +"He may blind your judgment. How do you personally feel towards him?" + +"That," he answered, "might be misleading. He has shown me so much +kindness. Yet I think--I am sure--that I liked him from the first +moment I saw him." + +She nodded. + +"I like him too. I cannot help it. Yet one can be with him, can live +in the same house for weeks, even months, and remain an utter stranger +to him. He has self-repression which is marvellous--never at +fault--never a joint loose. One wonders so much what lies beyond. One +would like to know." + +"Is it wise?" he asked. "After all, is it our concern? + +"Not ours. But if you were a woman would you be content to take him on +trust?" + +"It would depend upon my own feelings," he answered, hesitatingly. + +"Whether you cared for him?" + +"Yes!" + +She beat the floor with her foot. + +"You are wrong," she said, "I am sure that you are wrong. To care for +one is to wish ever to believe the best of them. It is better to keep +apart for ever than to run any risks. Supposing that unknown past was +of evil, and one discovered it. To care for him would only make the +suffering keener." + +"It may be so," he admitted. "May I ask you something?" + +"Well?" + +"You speak--of yourself?" + +Her eyes met his, and he looked hastily downwards. + +"Absurd," she murmured, and inclined her head towards the +billiard-table. "They have been--attached to one another always. Come +over here to the window, and I will tell you something." + +They walked towards the great circular window which overlooked the +drive. As they stood there together a four-wheeled cab drove slowly by, +and a girl leaned forward and looked at them. Brooks started as he +recognized her. + +"Why, that must be some one for me," he exclaimed, in a puzzled tone. +"Whatever can have happened to old Bullsom?" + +She looked at him politely bewildered. + +"It is the niece of a man whom I know very well in Medchester," he +exclaimed. "Something must have happened to her uncle. It is most +extraordinary." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +MARY SCOTT PAYS AN UNEXPECTED CALL + +Brooks met the butler entering the room with a card upon his salver. He +stretched out his hand for it mechanically, but the man only regarded +him in mild surprise. "For his lordship, sir. Excuse me." + +The man passed on. Brooks remained bewildered. Lord Arranmore took the +card from the tray and examined it leisurely. + +"Miss Mary Scott," he repeated aloud. "Are you sure that the young lady +asked to see me?" + +"Quite sure, your lordship," the servant answered. + +"Scott. The name sounds familiar, somehow!" Lord Arranmore said. +"Haven't I heard you mention it, Brooks? + +"Miss Scott is the niece of Mr. Bullsom, one of my best clients, a +large builder in Medchester," Brooks answered. "Why?" + +He stopped suddenly short. Arranmore glanced towards him in polite +unconcern. + +"You saw her with me at Mellon's, in Medchester. You asked me her +name." + +Lord Arranmore bent the card in his forefinger, and dropped his +eyeglass. + +"So that is the young lady," he remarked. "I remember her distinctly. +But I do not understand what she can want within me. Is she by any +chance, Brooks, one of those young persons who go about with a +collecting-card--who want money for missions and that sort of thing? If +so, I am afraid she has wasted her cab fare." + +"She is not in the least that sort of person," Brooks answered, +emphatically. "I have no idea what she wants to see you about, but I +am convinced that her visit has a legitimate object." + +Lord Arranmore stuck the card in his waistcoat pocket and shrugged his +shoulders. + +"You are my man of affairs, Brooks. I commission you to see her. Find +out her business if you can, and don't let me be bothered unless it is +necessary." + +Brooks hesitated. + +"I am not sure that I care to interfere--that my presence might not be +likely to cause her embarrassment," he said. "I have seen her lately, +and she made no mention of this visit." + +Lord Arranmore glanced at him as though surprised. "I should like you +to see her," he said, suavely. "It seems to me preferable to asking +her to state her business to a servant. If you have any objection to +doing so she must be sent back." + +Brooks turned unwillingly away. As he had expected, Mary sprang to her +feet upon his entrance into the room, and the colour streamed into +her cheeks. + +"You here!" she exclaimed. + +He shook hands with her, and tried to behave as though he thought her +presence the most natural thing in the world. "Yes. You see I am Lord +Arranmore's man of affairs now, and he keeps me pretty hard at work. He +seems to have a constitutional objection to doing anything for himself. +He has even sent me to--to--" + +"I understand," she interrupted. "To ascertain my business. Well, I +can't tell it even to you. It is Lord Arranmore whom I want to see. No +one else will do." + +Brooks leaned against the table and looked at her with a puzzled smile. + +"You see, it's a little awkward, isn't it?" he declared. "Lord +Arranmore is very eccentric, and especially so upon this point. He will +not see strangers. Write him a line or two and let me take it to +him." + +She considered for a moment. + +"Very well. Give me a piece of paper and an envelope." + +She wrote a single line only. Brooks took it back into the great inner +hall, where Lord Arranmore had started another game of billiards with +Lady Caroom. + +"Miss Scott assured me that her business with you is private," he +announced. "She has written this note." + +Lord Arranmore laid his cue deliberately aside and broke the seal. It +was evident that the contents of the note consisted of a few words only, +yet after once perusing them he moved a little closer to the light and +re-read them slowly. Then with a little sigh he folded the note in the +smallest possible compass and thrust it into his waistcoat pocket. + +"Your young friend, my dear Brooks," he said, taking up his cue, "does +me the honour to mistake me for some one else. Will you inform her that +I have no knowledge of the person to whom she alludes, and suggest--as +delicately as you choose--that as she is mistaken an interview is +unnecessary. It is, I believe, my turn, Catherine." "You decline, +then, to see her?" Brooks said. + +Lord Arranmore turned upon him with a rare irritation. + +"Have I not made myself clear, Brooks?" he said. "If I were to keep +open house to all the young women who choose to claim acquaintance with +me I should scarcely have a moment to call my own, or a house fit to ask +my friends to visit. Be so good as to make my answer sufficiently +explicit." + +"It is unnecessary, Lord Arranmore. I have come to ask you for it +yourself." + +They all turned round. Mary Scott was coming slowly towards them across +the thick rugs, into which her feet sunk noiselessly. Her face was very +pale, and her large eyes were full of nervous apprehension. But about +her mouth were certain rigid lines which spoke of determination. + +Sybil leaned forward from her chair, and Lady Caroom watched her +approach with lifted eyebrows and a stare of well-bred and languid +insolence. Lord Arranmore laid down his cue and rose at once to meet +her. + +"You are Lord Arranmore," she said, looking at him fixedly. "Will you +please answer the question--in my note?" + +He bowed a little coldly, but he made no remark as to her intrusion. "I +have already," he said, "given my answer to Mr. Brooks. The name +which you mention is altogether unknown to me, nor have I ever visited +the place you speak of. You have apparently been misled by a chance +likeness." + +"It is a very wonderful one," she said, slowly, keeping her eyes fixed +upon him. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"I regret," he said, "that you should have had your journey for nothing. +I can, I presume, be of no further use to you." + +"I do not regret my journey here," she answered. "I could not rest +until I had seen you closely, face to face, and asked you that question. +You deny then that you were ever called Philip Ferringshaw?" + +"Most assuredly," he answered, curtly. + +"That is very strange," she said. + +"Strange? + +"Yes. It is very strange because I am perfectly certain that you were." + +He took up his cue and commenced chalking it in a leisurely manner. + +"My dear young lady," he said, "you are; I understand, a friend of Mr. +Brooks, and are therefore entitled to some amount of consideration from +me. But I must respectfully remind you that your presence here is, to +put it mildly, unsought, and that I do not find it pleasant to be called +a liar under my own roof and before my friends." + +"Pleasant!" she eyed him scornfully; "nor did my father find it pleasant +to be ruined and murdered by you, a debauched gambler, a common +swindler." + +Lord Arranmore, unruffled, permitted himself to smile. + +"Dear me," he said, "this is getting positively melodramatic. Brooks, +for her own sake, let me beg of you to induce the young woman to leave +us. In her calmer moments she will, I am sure, repent of these +unwarranted statements to a perfect stranger." + +Brooks was numbed--for the moment speechless. Sybil had risen to her +feet as though with the intention of leaving the room. But Lord +Arranmore interposed. If he were acting it was marvellously done. + +"I beg," he said, "that you will none of you desert me. These +accusations of--Miss Scott, I believe are unnerving. A murderer, a +swindler and a rogue are hard names, young lady. May I ask if your +string of invectives is exhausted, or is there any further abuse which +you feel inclined to heap upon me?" + +The girl never flinched. + +"I have called you nothing," she said, "which you do not deserve. Do +you still deny that you were in Canada--in Montreal--sixteen years ago?" + +"Most assuredly I do deny it," he answered. + +Brooks started, and turned suddenly towards Lord Arranmore as though +doubtful whether he had heard rightly. This was a year before his +father's death. The girl was unmoved. + +"I see that I should come here with proofs," she exclaimed. "Well, they +are easy enough to collect. You shall have them. But before I go, Lord +Arranmore, let me ask you if you know who I am." + +"I understand," Lord Arranmore answered, "that you are the daughter or +niece of a highly respectable tradesman in Medchester, who is a client +of our young friend here, Mr. Brooks. Let me tell you, young lady, +that but for that fact I should not--tolerate your presence here." + +"I am Mr. Bullsom's niece," the girl answered, "but I am the daughter +of Martin Scott Cartnell!" + +It seemed to Brooks that a smothered exclamation of some sort broke +from Lord Arranmore's tightly compressed lips, but his face was so +completely in the shadow that its expression was lost. But he himself +now revealed it, for touching a knob in the wall a shower of electric +lamps suddenly glowed around the room. He leaned forward and looked +intently into the face of the girl who had become his accuser. She met +his gaze coldly, without flinching, the pallor of her cheeks relieved by +a single spot of burning colour, her eyes bright with purpose. + +"It is incredible," he said, softly, "but it is true. You are the +untidy little thing with a pigtail who used always to be playing games +with the boys when you ought to have been at school. Come, I am glad to +see you. Why do you come to me like a Cassandra of the Family Herald? +Your father was my companion for a while, but we were never intimate. I +certainly neither robbed nor murdered him." + +"You did both," she answered, fiercely. "You were his evil genius from +the first. It was through you he took to drink, through you he became a +gambler. You encouraged him to play for stakes larger than he could +afford. You won money from him which you knew was not his to lose. He +came to you for help. You laughed at him. That night he shot himself." + +"It was," Lord Arranmore remarked, "a very foolish thing to do." + +"Who or what you were before you came to Montreal I do not know," she +continued, "but there you brought misery and ruin upon every one +connected with you. I was a child in those days, but I remember how you +were hated. You broke the heart of Durran Lapage, an honest man whom +you called your friend, and you left his wife to starve in a common +lodging house. There was never a man or woman who showed you kindness +that did not live to regret it. You may be the Marquis of Arranmore +now, but you have left a life behind the memory of which should be a +constant torture to you." + +"Have you finished, young lady?" he asked, coldly. + +"Yes, I have finished," she answered. "I pray Heaven that the next time +we meet may be in the police-court. The police of Montreal are still +looking for Philip Ferringshaw, and they will find in me a very ready +witness." + +"Upon my word, this is a most unpleasant young person," Lord Arranmore +said. "Brooks, do see her off the premises before she changes her mind +and comes for me again. You have, I hope, been entertained, ladies," he +added, turning to Sybil and Lady Caroom. + +He eyed them carelessly enough to all appearance, yet with an inward +searchingness which seemed to find what it feared. He turned to Brooks, +but he and Mary Scott had left the room together. + +"The girl-was terribly in earnest," Lady Caroom said, with averted eyes. +"Were you not--a little cruel to her, Arranmore? Not that I believe +these horrid things, of course. But she did. She was honest." + +Lord Arranmore shrugged his shoulders. He was looking out of the +window, out into the grey windy darkness, listening to the raindrops +splashing against the window-pane, wondering how long Brooks would be, +and if in his face too he should see the shadow, and it seemed to him +that Brooks lingered a very long time. + +"Shall we finish our game of billiards, Catherine?" he asked, turning +towards her. + +"Well--I think not," she answered. "I am a little tired, and it is +almost time the dressing bell rang. I think Sybil and I will go +up-stairs." + +They passed away--he made no effort to detain them. He lit a cigarette, +and paced the room impatiently. At last he rang the bell. + +"Where is Mr. Brooks?" he asked. + +"Mr. Brooks has only just returned, my lord," the man answered. "He +went some distance with the young lady. He has gone direct to his +room." + +Lord Arranmore nodded. He threw himself into his easy-chair, and his +head sank upon his hand. He looked steadfastly into the heart of the +red coals. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE MARQUIS MEPHISTOPHELES + +"I am so sorry," she said, softly, "our last evening is spoilt." + +He shook his head with an effort at gaiety. + +"Let us conspire," he said. "You and I at least will make a struggle." + +"I am afraid," she said, "that it would be hopeless. Mother is an +absolute wreck, and I saw Lord Arranmore go into the library just now +with that terrible white look under his eyes. I saw it once before. +Ugh!" + +"After all," he said, "it only means that we shall be honest. +Cheerfulness to-night could only be forced." + +She laughed softly into his eyes. + +"How correct!" she murmured. "You are improving fast." + +He turned and looked at her, slim and graceful in her white muslin gown, +her fair hair brushed back from her forehead with a slight wave, but +drooping low over her ears, a delicate setting for her piquant face. +The dark brown eyes, narrowing a little towards the lids, met his with +frank kindliness, her mouth quivered a little as though with the desire +to break away into a laugh. The slight duskiness of her cheeks--she had +lived for three years in Italy and never worn a veil--pleased him better +than the insipidity of pink and white, and the absence of jewelry--she +wore neither bracelet nor rings gave her an added touch of distinction, +which restless youth finds something so much harder to wear than sedate +middle age. The admiration grew in his eyes. She was charming. + +The lips broke away at last. + +"After all," she murmured, "I think that I shall enjoy myself this +evening. You are looking all sorts of nice things at me." + +"My eyes," he answered, "are more daring than my lips." + +"And you call yourself a lawyer?" + +"Is that a challenge? Well, I was thinking that you looked charming." + +"Is that all? I have a looking-glass, you know." + +"And I shall miss you--very much." + +She suddenly avoided his eyes, but it was for a second only. Yet Brooks +was himself conscious of the significance of that second. He set his +teeth hard. + +"The days here," he said, slowly, "have been very pleasant. It has all +been--such a different life for me. A few months ago I knew no one +except a few of the Medchester people, and was working hard to make a +modest living. Sometimes I feel here as though I were a modern Aladdin. +There is a sense of unreality about Lord Arranmore's extraordinary +kindness to me. To-night, more than ever, I cannot help feeling that it +is something like a dream which may pass away at any moment." + +She looked at him thoughtfully. + +"Lord Arranmore is not an impulsive person," she said. "He must have +had some reason for being so decent to you." + +"Yes, as regards the management of his affairs perhaps," Brooks +answered. "But why he should ask me here, and treat me as though I were +his social equal and all that sort of thing--well, you know that is a +puzzle, isn't it?" + +"Well, I don't know," she answered. "Lord Arranmore is not exactly the +man to be a slave to, or even to respect, the conventional, and your +being--what you are, naturally makes you a pleasant companion to +him--and his guests. No, I don't think that it is strange." + +"You are very flattering," he said, smiling. + +"Not in the least," she assured him. "Now-a-days birth seems to be +rather a handicap than otherwise to the making of the right sort of +people. I am sure there are more impossibilities in the peerage than in +the nouveaux riches. I know heaps of people who because their names are +in Debrett seem to think that manners are unnecessary, and that they +have a sort of God-sent title to gentility." + +Brooks laughed. + +"Why," he said, "you are more than half a Radical." + +"It is your influence," she said, demurely. + +"It will soon pass away," he sighed. "To-morrow you will be back again +amongst your friends." + +She sighed. + +"Why do one's friends bore one so much more than other people's?" she +exclaimed. + +"When one thinks of it," he remarked, "you must have been very bored +here. Why, for the last fortnight there have been no other visitors in +the house." + +"There have been compensations," she said. + +"Tell me about them!" he begged. + +She laughed up at him. + +"If I were to say the occasional visits of Mr. Kingston Brooks, would +you be conceited?" + +"It would be like putting my vanity in a hothouse," he answered, "but I +would try and bear it." + +"Well, I will say it, then!" + +He turned and looked at her with a sudden seriousness. Some +consciousness of the change in his mood seemed to be at once +communicated to her. Her eyes no longer met his. She moved a little on +one side and took up an ornament from an ormolu table. + +"I wish that you meant it," he murmured. + +"I do!" she whispered, almost under her breath. + +Brooks suddenly forgot many things, but Nemesis intervened. There was +the sound of much rustling of silken skirts, and--Lady Caroom's poodle, +followed by herself, came round the angle of the drawing-room. + +"My dear Sybil," she exclaimed, "do come and tie Balfour's ribbon for +me. Marie has no idea of making a bow spread itself out, and pink is +so becoming to him. Thanks, dear. Where is our host? I thought that I +was late." + +Lord Arranmore entered as she spoke. His evening dress, as usual, was +of the most severely simple type. To-night its sombreness was +impressive. With such a background his pallor seemed almost waxen-like. +He offered his arm to Lady Caroom. + +"I was not sure," he said, with a lightness which seemed natural enough, +"whether to-night I might not have to dine alone whilst you poor people +sat and played havoc with the shreds of my reputation. Groves, the +cabinet Johannesburg and the '84 Heidsieck--though I am afraid," he +added, looking down at his companion, "that not all the wine in my +cellar could make this feast of farewells a cheerful one." + +"Farewell celebrations of all sorts are such a mistake," Lady Caroom +murmured. "We have been so happy here too." + +"You brought the happiness with you," Lord Arranmore said, "and you take +it away with you. Enton will be a very dull place when you are gone. + +"Your own stay here is nearly up, is it not?" Lady Caroom asked. "Very +nearly. I expect to go to Paris next week--at latest the week after, in +time at any rate for Bernhardt's new play. So I suppose we shall soon +all be scattered over the face of the earth." + +"Except me," Brooks interposed, ruefully. "I shall be the one who will +do the vegetating." + +Lady Caroom laughed softly. + +"Foolish person! You will be within two hours of London. You none of +you have the slightest idea as to the sort of place we are going to. We +are a day's journey from anywhere. The morning papers are twenty-four +hours late. The men drink port wine, and the women sit round the fire +in the drawing-room after dinner and wait--and wait--and wait. Oh, that +awful waiting. I know it so well. And it isn't much better when the +men do come. They play whist instead of bridge, and a woman in the +billiard-room is a lost soul. Our hostess always hides my cue directly +I arrive, and pretends that it has been lost. By the bye, what a dear +little room this is, Arranmore. We haven't dined here before, have we?" + +Lord Arranmore shook his head. He held up his wineglass thoughtfully as +though criticizing the clearness of the amber fluid. + +"No!" he said. "I ordered dinner to be served in here because over our +dessert I propose to offer you a novel form of entertainment." + +"How wonderful," Sybil said. "Will it be very engrossing? Will it help +us to forget?" + +He looked at her with a smile. + +"That depends," he said, "how anxious you are to forget." + +She looked hastily away. For a moment Brooks met her eyes, and his +heart gave an unusual leap. Lady Caroom watched them both thoughtfully, +and then turned to their host. + +"You have excited our curiosity, Arranmore. You surely don't propose to +keep us on tenterhooks all through dinner?" + +"It will give a fillip to your appetite." + +"My appetite needs no fillip. It is disgraceful to try and make me eat +more than I do already. I am getting hideously stout. I found my maid +in tears to-night because I positively could not get into my most +becoming bodice." + +"If you possess a more becoming one than this," Lord Arranmore said, +with a bow, "it is well for our peace of mind that you cannot wear it." + +"That is a very pretty subterfuge, but a subterfuge it remains," Lady +Caroom answered. "Now be candid. I love candour. What are you going +to do to amuse us?" + +He shook his head. + +"Do not spoil my effect. The slightest hint would make everything seem +tame. Brooks, I insist upon it that you try my Johannesburg. It was +given to my grandfather by the Grand Duke of Shleistein. Groves!" + +Brooks submitted willingly enough, for the wine was wonderful. Sybil +leaned over so that their heads almost touched. + +"Look at our host," she whispered. "What does he remind you of?" + +Brooks glanced across the table, brilliant with its burden of old +silver, of cut-glass and hothouse flowers. Lord Arranmore's face, +notwithstanding his ready flow of conversation, seemed unusually still +and white--the skin drawn across the bones, even the lips pallid. The +sombreness of his costume, the glitter in his eyes, the icy coldness of +his lack of coloring, though time after time he set down his wineglass +empty, were curiously impressive. Brooks looked back into her face, his +eyes full of question. + +"Mephistopheles," she whispered. "He is absolutely weird to-night. If +he sat and looked at me and we were alone I should shriek." + +Lord Arranmore lifted a glass of champagne to the level of his head and +looked thoughtfully around the table. + +"Come," he said, "a toast-to ourselves. Singly? Collectively. Lady +Caroom, I drink to the delightful memories with which you have peopled +Enton. Sybil, may you charm society as your mother has done. Brooks, +your very good health. May your entertainment this evening be a welcome +one. + +"We will drink to all those things," Lady Caroom declared, "with +enthusiasm. But I am afraid your good wishes for Sybil are beyond any +hope of realization. She is far too honest to flourish in society. She +will probably marry a Bishop or a Cabinet Minister, and become engrossed +in theology or politics. You know how limiting that sort of thing is. +I am in deadly fear that she may become humdrum. A woman who really +studies or knows anything about anything can never be a really +brilliant woman." + +"You--" + +"Oh, I pass for being intelligent because I parade my ignorance so, just +as Sophie Mills is considered a paragon of morality because she is +always talking about running off with one of the boys in her husband's +regiment. It is a gigantic bluff, you know, but it comes off. Most +bluffs do come off if one is only daring enough." + +"You must tell them that up at Redcliffe," Lord Arranmore remarked. + +Sybil laughed heartily. + +"Redcliffe is the one place where mother is dumb," she declared. "Up +there they look upon her as a stupid but well-meaning person. She is +absolutely afraid to open her mouth." + +"They are so absurdly literal," Lady Caroom sighed, helping herself to +an infinitesimal portion of a wonderful savoury. "Don't talk about the +place. I know I shall have an attack of nerves there." + +"Mother always gets nerves if she mayn't talk," Sybil murmured. + +"You're an undutiful daughter," Lady Caroom declared. "If I do talk I +never say anything, so nobody need listen unless they like. About this +entertainment, Arranmore. Are you going to make the wineglass +disappear and the apples fly about the room a la Maskelyne and Cook? I +hope our share in it consists in sitting down." + +Arranmore turned to the butler behind his chair. + +"Have coffee and liqueur served here, Groves, and bring some cigarettes. +Then you can send the servants away and leave us alone." + +The man bowed. + +"Very good, your lordship." + +Lord Arranmore looked around at his guests. + +"The entertainment," he said, "will incur no greater hardship upon you +than a little patience. I am going to tell you a story." + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE CONFIDENCE OF LORD ARRANMORE + +The servants had left the room, and the doors were fast closed. Lord +Arranmore sat a little forward in his high-backed chair, one hand +grasping the arm, the other stretched flat upon the table before him. +By his side, neglected, was a cedar-wood box of his favourite +cigarettes. + +"I am going," he said, thoughtfully, "to tell you a story, of whom the +hero is--myself. A poor sort of entertainment perhaps, but then there +is a little tragedy and a little comedy in what I have to tell. And you +three are the three people in the world to whom certain things were +better told." + +They bent forward, fascinated by the cold directness of his speech, by +the suggestion of strange things to come. The mask of their late gaiety +had fallen away. Lady Caroom, grave and sad-eyed, was listening with an +anxiety wholly unconcealed. Under the shaded lamplight their faces, +dominated by that cold masterly figure at the head of the table, were +almost Rembrandtesque. + +"You have heard a string of incoherent but sufficiently damaging +accusations made against me to-day by a young lady whose very existence, +I may say, was a surprise to me. It suited me then to deny them. +Nevertheless they were in the main true." + +The announcement was no shock. Every one of the three curiously enough +had believed the girl. + +"I must go a little further back than the time of which she spoke. At +twenty-six years old I was an idle young man of good family, but scant +expectations, supposed to be studying at the Bar, but in reality idling +my time about town. In those days, Lady Caroom, you had some knowledge +of me." + +"Up to the time of your disappearance--yes. I remember, Arranmore," she +continued, her manner losing for a moment some of its restraint, and +her eyes and tone suddenly softening, "dancing with you that evening. +We arranged to meet at Ranelagh the next day, and, when the next day +came, you had vanished, gone as completely as though the earth had +swallowed you up. For weeks every one was asking what has become of +him. And then--I suppose you were forgotten." + +"This," Lord Arranmore continued, "is the hardest part of my narrative, +the hardest because the most difficult to make you understand. You will +forgive my offering you the bare facts only. I will remind you that I +was young, impressionable, and had views. So to continue!" + +The manner of his speech was in its way chillingly impressive. He was +still sitting in exactly the same position, one hand upon the arm of his +high-backed chair, the other upon the table before him. He made use of +no gestures, his face remained as white and emotionless as a carved +image, his tone, though clear and low, was absolutely monotonous. But +there was about him a subtle sense of repression apparent to all of +them. + +"On my way home that night my hansom knocked down an old man. He was +not seriously hurt, and I drove him home. On the way he stared at me +curiously. Every now and then he laughed--unpleasantly. + +"'I have never seen any one out of your world before,' he said. 'I +dare say you have never spoken to any one out of mine except to toss us +alms. Come and see where I live.' + +"He insisted, and I went. I found myself in a lodging-house, now pulled +down and replaced by one of Lord Rowton's tenement houses. I saw a +hundred human beings more or less huddled together promiscuously, and +the face of every one of them was like the face of a rat. The old man +dragged me from room to room, laughing all the time. He showed me +children herded together without distinction of sex or clothing, here +and there he pointed to a face where some apprehension of the light was +fighting a losing battle with the ghouls of disease, of vice, of foul +air, of filth. I was faint and giddy when we had looked over that one +house, but the old man was not satisfied. He dragged me on to the roof +and pointed eastwards. There, as far as the eyes could reach, was a +blackened wilderness of smoke-begrimed dwellings. He looked at me and +grinned. I can see him now. He had only one tooth, a blackened yellow +stump, and every time he opened his mouth to laugh he was nearly choked +with coughing. He leaned out over the palisading and reached with both +his arms eastward. 'There,' he cried, frantically, 'you have seen one. +There are thousands and tens of thousands of houses like this, a million +crawling vermin who were born into the world in your likeness, as you +were born, my fine gentleman. Day by day they wake in their holes, fill +their lungs with foul air, their stomachs with rotten food, break their +backs and their hearts over some hideous task. Every day they drop a +little lower down. Drink alone keeps them alive, stirs their blood now +and then so that they can feel their pulses beat, brings them a blessed +stupor. And see over there the sun, God's sun, rises every morning, +over them and you. Young man! You see those flaming spots of light? +They are gin-palaces. You may thank your God for them, for they alone +keep this horde of rotten humanity from sweeping westwards, breaking up +your fine houses, emptying your wine into the street, tearing the silk +and laces from your beautiful soft-limbed women. Bah! But you have +read. It would be the French Revolution over again. Oh, but you are +wise, you in the West, your statesmen and your philanthropists, that you +build these gin-palaces, and smile, and rub your hands and build more +and spend the money gaily. You build the one dam which can keep back +your retribution. You keep them stupefied, you cheapen the vile liquor +and hold it to their noses. So they drink, and you live. But a day of +light may come.'" + +Lord Arranmore ceased speaking, stretched out his hand and helped +himself to wine with unfaltering fingers. + +"I have tried," he continued, "to repeat the exact words which the old +man used to me, and I do not find it so difficult as you might imagine, +because at that time they made a great impression upon me. But I +cannot, of course, hope to reproduce to you his terrible earnestness, +the burning passion with which every word seemed to spring from his +lips. Their effect upon me at that time you will be able to judge when +I tell you this--that I never returned to my rooms, that for ten years I +never set foot west of Temple Bar. I first joined a small society in +Whitechapel, then I worked for myself, and finally I became a +police-court missionary at Southwark Police-Court. The history of +those years is the history of a slowly-growing madness. I commenced +by trying to improve whole districts-I ended with the individual." + +Brooks' wineglass fell with a little crash upon the tablecloth. The +wine, a long silky stream, flowed away from him unstaunched, unregarded. +His eyes were fixed upon Lord Arranmore. He leaned forward. + +"A police-court missionary!" he cried, hoarsely. + +Lord Arranmore regarded him for a moment in silence. + +"Yes. As you doubtless surmise, I am your father. Afterwards you may +ask me questions." + +Brooks sat as one stupefied, and then a sudden warm touch upon his hand +sent the blood coursing once more through his veins. Sybil's fingers +lay for a moment upon his. She smiled kindly at him. Lord Arranmore's +voice once more broke the short silence. + +"The individual was my greatest disappointment," he continued. "Young +and old, all were the same. I took them to live with me, I sent them +abroad, I found them situations in this country, I talked with them, +read with them, showed them the simplest means within their reach by +means of which they might take into their lives a certain measure of +beautiful things. Failure would only make me more dogged, more eager. +I would spend months sometimes with one man or boy, and at last I +would assure myself of success. I would find them a situation, see them +perhaps once a week, then less often, and the end was always the same. +They fell back. I had put the poison to sleep, but it was always there. +It was their everlasting heritage, a gift from father to son, bred in +the bone, a part of their blood. + +"In those days I married a lady devoted to charitable works. Our +purpose was to work together, but we found it impracticable. There was, +I fear, little sympathy between us. The only bond was our work--and +that was soon to be broken. For there came a time, after ten breathless +years, when I paused to consider." + +He raised his glass to his lips and drained it. The wine was powerful, +but it brought no tinge of colour to his cheeks, nor any lustre to his +eyes. He continued in the same firm, expressionless tone. + +"There came a night when I found myself thinking, and I knew then that a +new terror was stealing into my life. I made my way up to the roof of +the house where that old man had first taken me, and I leaned once more +over the palisading and looked eastwards. I fancied that I could still +hear the echoes of his frenzied words, and for the first time I heard +the note of mockery ringing clearly through them. There they +stretched--the same blackened wilderness of roofs sheltering the same +horde of drinking, filthy, cursing, parasitical creatures; there flared +the gin-palaces, more of them, more brilliantly lit, more gorgeously +decorated. Ten years of my life, and what had I done? What could any +one do? The truth seemed suddenly written across the sky in letters of +fire. I, a poor human creature, had been fighting with a few other +fanatics against the inviolable, the unconquerable laws of nature. The +hideous mistake of all individual effort was suddenly revealed to me. +'We were like a handful of children striving to dam a mighty torrent +with a few handfuls of clay. Better a thousand times that these people +rotted--and died in their holes, that disease should stalk through their +streets, and all the evil passions born of their misery and filth should +be allowed to blaze forth that the whole world might see, so the laws of +the world might intervene, the great natural laws by which alone these +things could be changed. I looked down at myself, then wasted to the +bone, a stranger to the taste of wine or tobacco, to all the joys of +life, a miserable heart-broken wretch, and I cursed that old man and the +thought of him till my lips were dry and my throat ached. I walked back +to my miserable dwelling with a red fire before my eyes, muttering, +cursing that power which stood behind the universe, and which we call +God, that there should be vomited forth into the world day by day, hour +by hour, this black stream of human wretchedness, an everlasting mockery +to those who would seek for the joy of life. + +"They took me to the hospital, and they called my illness brain-fever. +But long before they thought me convalescent I was conscious, lying +awake and plotting my escape. With cunning I managed it. Of my wife +and child I never once thought. Every trace of human affection seemed +withered up in my heart. I took the money subscribed for me with a +hypocrite's smile, and I slunk away from England. I went to Montreal in +Canada, and I deliberately entered upon a life of low pleasures. Pardon +me!" + +He bent forward and with a steady hand readjusted the shade of a lamp +which was in danger of burning. Lady Caroom leaned back in her chair +with an indrawn sobbing breath. The action at such a moment seemed +grotesque. His own coolness, whilst with steady fingers he probed away +amongst the wounded places of his life, was in itself gruesome. + +"My money," he continued, "was no large sum, but I eked it out with +gambling. The luck was always on my side. It's quite true that I +ruined the father of the young lady who paid me a visit to-day. After a +somewhat chequered career he was settling down in a merchant's office in +Montreal when I met him. His luck at cards was as bad as mine was good. +I won all he had, and more. I believe that he committed suicide. A man +there was kind to me, asked me to his house--I persuaded his wife to run +away with me. These are amongst the slightest of my delinquencies. I +steeped myself in sin. I revelled in it. I seemed to myself in some +way to be showing my defiance for the hidden powers of life which I had +cursed. I played a match with evil by day and by night until I was +glutted. And then I stole away from the city, leaving behind a hideous +reputation and not a single friend. Then a new mood came to me. I +wanted to get to a place where I should see no human beings at all, and +escape in that way from the memories which were still like a clot upon +my brain. So I set my face westwards. I travelled till at last +civilization lay behind. Still I pushed onward. I had stores in +plenty, an Indian servant who chanced to be faithful, and whom I saw +but twice a day. At last I reached Lake Ono. Here between us we built +a hut. I sent my Indian away then, and when he fawned at my feet to +stay I kicked him. This was my third phase of living, and it was true +that some measure of sanity came back to me. Oh, the blessed relief of +seeing the face of neither man nor woman. It was the unpeopled world of +Nature--uncorrupted, fresh, magnificent, alive by day and by night with +everlasting music of Nature. The solitudes of those great forests were +like a wonderful balm. So the fevers were purged out of me, and I +became once more an ordinary human being. I was content, I think, to +die there, for I had plenty to eat and drink, and the animals and birds +who came to me morning and evening kept me from even the thought of +loneliness. The rest is obvious. I lost two cousins in South Africa, +an uncle in the hunting-field. A man in Montreal had recognized me. I +was discovered. But before I returned I killed Brooks, the police-court +missionary. This girl has forced me to bring him to life again." + +It was a strange silence which followed. Brooks sat back in his chair, +pale, bewildered, striving to focus this story properly, to attain a +proper comprehension of these new strange things. And behind all there +smouldered the slow burning anger of the child who has looked into the +face of a deserted mother. Lady Caroom was white to the lips, and in +her eyes the horror of that story so pitilessly told seemed still to +linger. + +Lord Arranmore spoke again. Still he sat back in his high-backed +chair, and still he spoke in measured, monotonous tones. But this time, +if only their ears had been quick enough to notice it, there lay behind +an emotion, held in check indeed, but every now and then quivering for +expression. He had turned to Lady Caroom. + +"Chance," he said, "has brought together here at the moment when the +telling of these things has become a necessity, the two people who have +in a sense some right to hear them, for from each I have much to ask. +Sybil is your daughter, and from her there need be no secrets. So, +Catherine, I ask you again, now that you know everything, are you brave +enough to be my wife?" + +She raised her eyes, and he saw the horror there. But he made no sign. +She rose and held out her hand for Sybil. + +"Arranmore," she said, "I am afraid." + +He looked down upon his plate. + +"So let it be, then," he said. "It would need a brave woman indeed to +join her lot with mine after the things which I have told you. At +heart, Catherine, I am almost a dead man. Believe me, you are wise." + +He rose, and the two women passed from the room. Then he resumed his +former seat, and attitude, and Brooks, though he tried to speak, felt +his tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth, a dry and nerveless thing. + +For in these doings there was tragedy. + +"There remains to me you, Philip Kingston, my son," Lord Arranmore said, +in the same measured tone. "You also have before you the story of my +life, you are able from it to form some sort of idea as to what my +future is likely to be. I do not wish to deceive you. My early +enthusiasms are extinct. I look upon the ten or twenty years or so +which may be left to me of life as merely a space of time to be filled +with as many amusements and new sensations as may be procurable without +undue effort. I have no wish to convert, or perhaps pervert you, to my +way of thinking. You live still in Utopia, and to me Utopia does not +exist. So make your choice deliberately. Do you care to come to me?" + +Then Brooks found words of a sort. + +"Lord Arranmore," he said, "forgive me if what I must say sounds +undutiful. I know that you have suffered. I can realize something of +what you have been through. But your desertion of my mother and me was +a brutality. What you call your creed of life sounds to me hideous. +You and I are far apart, and so far as I am concerned, God grant that we +may remain so." + +For the first time Lord Arranmore smiled. He poured out with steady +hand yet another glass of wine, and he nodded towards the door. + +"I am obliged to you," he said, "for your candour. I have met with +enough hypocrisy in life to be able to appreciate it. Be so good as to +humour my whim--and to leave me alone." + +Brooks rose from his seat, hesitated for a single moment, and left the +room. Lord Arranmore leaned back in his high-backed chair and looked +round at the empty places. The cigarette burned out between his +fingers, his wine remained untasted. The evening's entertainment was +over. + + + + +PART II + +CHAPTER I + +LORD ARRANMORE'S AMUSEMENTS + +"The domestic virtues," Lord Arranmore said softly to himself, "being +denied to me, the question remains how to pass one's time." + +He rose wearily from his seat, and walking to the window looked out upon +St. James's Square. A soft rain hung about the lamp-posts, the +pavements were thick with umbrellas. He returned to his chair with a +shrug of the shoulders. + +"The only elucidation from outside seems to be a change of climate," he +mused. "I should prefer to think of something more original. In the +meantime I will write to that misguided young man in Medchester." + +He drew paper and pen towards him and began to write. Even his +handwriting seemed a part of the man--cold, shapely, and deliberate. + +"My DEAR BROOKS, + +"I have been made acquainted through Mr. Ascough with your desire to +leave the new firm of Morrison and Brooks, and while I congratulate you +very much upon the fact itself, I regret equally the course of reasoning +which I presume led to your decision. You will probably have heard from +Mr. Ascough by this time on a matter of business. You are, by birth, +Lord Kingston of Ross, and the possessor of the Kingston income, which +amounts to a little over two thousand a year. Please remember that +this comes to you not through any grace or favour of mine, but by your +own unalienable right as the eldest son of the Marquis of Arranmore. +I cannot give it to you. I cannot withhold it from you. If you refuse +to take it the amount must accumulate for your heirs, or in due time +find its way to the Crown. Leave the tithe alone by all means, if you +like, but do not carry quixotism to the borders of insanity by +declining to spend your own money, and thereby cramp your life. + +"I trust to hear from Mr. Ascough of your more reasonable frame of +mind, and while personally I agree with you that we are better apart, +you can always rely upon me if I can be of any service to you. + +"Yours sincerely, + +"ARRANMORE." + +He read the letter through thoughtfully and folded it up. + +"I really don't see what the young fool can kick about in that," he +said, throwing it into the basket. "Well, Hennibul, how are you?" + +Mr. Hennibul, duly ushered in by a sedate butler, pronounced himself +both in words and appearance fit and well. He took a chair and a +cigarette, and looked about him approvingly. + +"Nice house, yours, Arranmore. Nice old-fashioned situation, too. Why +don't you entertain?" + +"No friends, no inclination, no womankind!" + +Mr. Hennibul smiled incredulously. + +"Your card plate is chock-full," he said, "and there are a dozen women +in town at least of your connections who'd do the polite things by you. +As to inclination--well, one must do something." + +"That's about the most sensible thing you have said, Hennibul," +Arranmore remarked. "I've just evoked the same fact out of my own +consciousness. One must do something. It's tiresome, but it's quite +true." Politics? + +"Hate 'em! Not worth while anyway." + +"Travel." + +"Done all I want for a bit, but I keep that in reserve. + +"Hunt." + +"Bad leg, but I do a bit at it." + +"Society." + +"Sooner go on the County Council." + +"City." + +"Too much money already." + +"Write a book." "No one would read it." + +"Start a magazine." + +"Too hard work." + +Mr. Hennibul sighed. + +"You're rather a difficult case," he admitted. "You'd better come +round to the club and play bridge." + +"I never played whist--and I'm bad-tempered." + +"Bit of everything then." + +Lord Arranmore smiled. + +"That's what it'll end in, I suppose." + +"Pleasant times we had down at Enton," Mr. Hennibul remarked. "How's +the nice young lawyer--Brooks his name was, I think?" + +"All right, I believe." + +"And the ladies? + +"I believe that they are quite well. They were in Scotland last time +I heard of them." + +Mr. Hennibul found conversation difficult. + +"I saw that you were in Paris the other week," he remarked. + +"I went over to see Bernhardt's new play," Arranmore continued. + +"Good?" + +"It disappointed me. Very likely though the fault was with myself." + +Mr. Hennibul looked across at his host shrewdly. + +"What did you see me for?" he asked, suddenly. "You're bored to death +trying to keep up a conversation." + +Lord Arranmore laughed. + +"Upon my word, I don't know, Hennibul," he answered. "For the same old +reason, I suppose. One must see some one, do something. I thought that +you might amuse me." + +"And I've failed," Hennibul declared, smiling. "Come to supper at the +Savoy to-night. The two new American girls from the Lyric and St. John +Lyttleton are to be there. Moderately respectable, I believe, but a bit +noisy perhaps." + +Arranmore shook his head. + +"You're a good fellow, Hennibul," he said, "but I'm too old for that +sort of thing." + +Hennibul rose to his feet. + +"Well," he said, "I've kept the best piece of advice till last because I +want you to think of it. Marry!" + +Lord Arranmore did not smile. He did not immediately reply. + +"You are a bachelor!" he remarked. + +"I am a man of a different disposition," Hennibul answered. "I find +pleasure in everything--everything amuses me. My work is fascinating, +my playtime is never big enough. I really don't know where a wife +would come in. However, if ever I did get a bit hipped, find myself +in your position, for instance, I can promise you that I'd take my own +medicine. I've thought of it more than once lately." + +"Perhaps by that time," Lord Arranmore said, "the woman whom you wanted +to marry wouldn't have you." + +Hennibul looked serious for a moment. A new idea had occurred to him. + +"One must take one's chances!" he said. + +"You are a philosopher," Arranmore declared. "Will you have some +tea--or a whisky-and-soda?" + +"Neither, thanks. In an abortive attempt to preserve my youth I neither +take tea nor drinks between meals. I will have one of your excellent +cigarettes and get round to the club. Why, this is Enton over again, +for here comes Molyneux." + +The Hon. Sydney Molyneux shook hands with both of them in somewhat +dreary fashion, and embarked upon a few disjointed remarks. Hennibul +took his leave, and Arranmore yawned openly. + +"What is the matter with you, Sydney?" he asked. "You are duller than +ever. I am positively not going to sit here and mumble about the +weather. How are the Carooms? Have you heard from them lately?" + +"They are up in Yorkshire," Molyneux announced, "staying with the +Pryce-Powells. I believe they're all right. I'm beastly fit myself, +but I had a bit of a facer last week. I--er--I wanted to ask you a +question. + +"Well?" + +"About that fellow Brooks I met at your place down at Enton. Lawyer at +Medchester, isn't he? I thought that he and Sybil seemed a bit thick +somehow. Don't suppose there could have been anything in it, eh? He's +no one in particular, I suppose. Lady Caroom wouldn't be likely to +listen to anything between Sybil and him?" + +Arranmore raised his eyebrows. + +"Brooks is a very intelligent young man," he said, "and some girls are +attracted by brains, you know. I don't know anything about his +relations with Sybil Caroom, but he has ample private means, and I +believe that he is well-born." + +"Fellow's a gentleman, of course," Molyneux declared, "but Lady Caroom +is a little ambitious, isn't she? I always seemed to be in the running +all right lately. I spent last Sunday with them at Chelsom Castle. +Awful long way to go, but I'm fond of Sybil. I thought she was a bit +cool to me, but, like a fool, I blundered on, and in the end--I got a +facer." + +"Very sorry for you," Arranmore yawned. + +"What made me think about Brooks was that she was awfully decent to me +before Enton," Molyneux continued. "I don't mind telling you that I'm +hard hit. I want to know who Brooks is. If he's only a country lawyer, +he's got no earthly chance with Lady Caroom, and Sybil'd never go +against her mother. They're too great pals for that. Never saw them so +thick." + +"Was Lady Caroom--quite well?" Arranmore asked, irrelevantly. + +"Well, now you mention it," Molyneux said, "I don't think she was quite +in her usual form. She was much quieter, and it struck me that she was +aging a bit. Wonderful woman, though. She and Sybil were quite +inseparable at Chelsom--more like sisters than anything, 'pon my word." + +Lord Arranmore looked into the fire, and was silent for several minutes. + +"So far as regards Brooks," he said, "I do not think that he would be an +acceptable son-in-law to Lady Caroom, but I am not in the least sure. +He is by no means an insignificant person. If he were really anxious to +marry Sybil Caroom, he would be a rival worth consideration. I cannot +tell you anything more." + +"Much obliged to you I'm sure. I shall try again when they come to +town, of course." + +Arranmore rose up. + +"I am going down to Christie's to see some old French manuscripts," he +said. "Is that on your way?" + +Molyneux shook his head. + +"Going down to the House, thanks," he answered. "I'll look you up again +some time, if I may." + +They walked out into the street together. Arranmore stepped into his +brougham and was driven off. At the top of St. James's Street he +pulled the check-string and jumped out. He had caught a glimpse of a +girl's face looking into a shop window. He hastily crossed the pavement +and accosted her, hat in hand. + +"Miss Scott, will you permit me the opportunity of saying a few words to +you?" + +Mary turned round, speechless for more than a minute or two. + +"I will not detain you for more than a minute or two. I hope that you +will not refuse me." + +"I will listen to anything you have to say, Lord Arranmore," she said, +"but let me tell you that I have been to see Mr. Ascough. He told me +that he had your permission to explain to me fully the reasons of your +coming to Montreal and the story of your life before." + +"Well?" + +She hesitated. He stood before her, palpably anxiously waiting for her +decision. + +"I was perhaps wrong to judge so hastily, Lord Arranmore," she said, +"and I am inclined to regret my visit to Enton. If you care to know it, +I do not harbour any animosity towards you. But I cannot possibly +accept this sum of money. I told Mr. Ascough so finally." + +"It is only justice, Miss Scott," he said, in a low tone. "I won the +money from your father fairly in one sense, but unfairly in another, for +I was a good player and he was a very poor one. You will do me a great, +an immeasurable kindness, if you will allow me to make this +restitution." + +She shook her head. + +"If my forgiveness is of any value to you, Lord Arranmore," she said, +"you may have it. But I cannot accept the money." + +"You have consulted no one?" + +"No one." + +You have a guardian or friends? + +"I have been living with my uncle, Mr. Bullsom. He has been very kind +to me, and I have--" + +"Mary!" + +They both turned round. Selina and Mr. Bullsom had issued from the +shop before which they stood, Both were looking at Lord Arranmore with +curiosity, in Selina's case mixed with suspicion. + +"Is this your uncle?" he asked. "Will you introduce me?" + +Mary bit her lip. + +"Uncle, this is Lord Arranmore," she said. "Mr. Bullsom, my cousin, +Miss Bullsom." + +Mr. Bullsom retained presence of mind enough to remove a new and very +shiny silk hat, and to extend a yellow, dog-skinned gloved hand. + +"Very proud to meet your lordship," he declared. "I--I wasn't aware--" + +Lord Arranmore extricated his hand from a somewhat close grasp, and +bowed to Selina. + +"We are neighbours, you know, Mr. Bullsom," he said, "at Medchester. I +met your niece there, and recognized her at once, though she was a +little slip of a girl when I knew her last. Her father and I were in +Montreal together." + +"God bless my soul," Mr. Bullsom exclaimed, in much excitement. "It's +your lawyers, then, who have been advertising for Mary?" + +Lord Arranmore bowed. + +"That is so," he admitted. "I am sorry to say that I cannot induce your +niece to look upon a certain transaction between her father and myself +from a business-like point of view. I think that you and I, Mr. +Bullsom, might come to a better understanding. Will you give me an +appointment? I should like to discuss the matter with you." + +"With the utmost pleasure, my lord," Mr. Bullsom declared heartily. +"Can't expect these young ladies to see through a business matter, eh? +I will come to your lordship's house whenever you like." + +"It would be quite useless, uncle," Mary interposed, firmly. "Lord +Arranmore has already my final answer." + +Mr. Bullsom was a little excited. + +"Tut, tut, child!" he exclaimed. "Don't talk nonsense. I should be +proud to talk this matter over with Lord Arranmore. We are staying at +the Metropole, and if your lordship would call there to-morrow and take +a bit of lunch, eh, about one o'clock--if it isn't too great a liberty." + +Selina had never loved her father more sincerely. Lord Arranmore smiled +faintly, but good-humoredly. + +"You are exceedingly kind," he said. "For our business talk, perhaps, +it would be better if you would come to St. James's House at, say, +10:30, if that is convenient. I will send a carriage." + +"I'll be ready prompt," Mr. Bullsom declared. "Now, girls, we will say +good-afternoon to his lordship and get a four-wheeler." + +Selina raised her eyes and dropped them again in the most approved +fashion. Mr. Bullsom shook hands as though it were a sacrament; Mary, +who was annoyed, did not smile at all. + +"This is all quite unnecessary, Lord Arranmore," she said, while her +uncle was signalling for a cab. I shall not change my mind, and I am +sorry that you spoke to uncle about it at all." + +"It is a serious matter to me, Miss Scott," Lord Arranmore said, +gravely. "And there is still another point of view from which I might +urge it." + +"It is wasted time," she declared, firmly. + +Selina detached herself from her father, and stood by Lord Arranmore's +side. + +"I suppose you are often in London, Lord Arranmore?" she asked shyly. + +"A great deal too often," he answered. + +"We read about your beautiful parties at Enton," she said, with a sigh. +"It is such a lovely place." + +"I am glad you like it," he answered, absently. "I see your uncle +cannot find a four-wheeler. You must take my carriage. I am only going +a few steps." + +Mary's eager protest was drowned in Selina's shrill torrent of thanks. +Lord Arranmore beckoned to his coachman, and the brougham, with its pair +of strong horses, drew up against the pavement. The footman threw open +the door. Selina entered in a fever for fear a cab which her father was +signalling should, after all, respond to his summons. Mr. Bullsom +found his breath taken away. + +"We couldn't possibly take your lordship's carriage," he protested. + +"I have only a few steps to go, Mr. Bullsom, and it would be a +kindness, for my horses are never more than half exercised. At 10:30 +to-morrow then." + +He stood bareheaded upon the pavement for a moment, and Selina's eyes +and smile had never worked harder. Mary leaned back, too angry to +speak. Selina and Mr. Bullsom sat well forward, and pulled both +windows down. + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE HECKLING OF HENSLOW + +"The long and short of it is, then, Mr. Henslow, that you decline to +fulfil your pledges given at the last election?" Brooks asked, coldly. + +"Nothing of the sort," Mr. Henslow declared, testily. "You have no +right to suggest anything of the sort." + +"No right!" + +"Certainly not. You are my agent, and you ought to work with me instead--" + +"I have already told you," Brooks interrupted, '"that I am nothing of the +sort. I should not dream of acting for you again, and if you think a +formal resignation necessary, I will post you one to-morrow. I am one +of your constituents, nothing more or less. But as I am in some measure +responsible for your presence here, I consider myself within my rights +in asking you these questions." + +"I'm not going to be hectored!" Mr. Henslow declared. + +"Nobody wants to hector you! You gave certain pledges to us, and you +have not fulfilled one of them." + +"They won't let me. I'm not here as an independent Member. I'm here as +a Liberal, and Sir Henry himself struck out my proposed question and +motion. I must go with the Party." + +"You know quite well," Brooks said, "that you are within your rights in +keeping the pledges you made to the mass meeting at Medchester." + +Henslow shook his head. + +"It would be no good," he declared. "I've sounded lots of men about it. +I myself have not changed. I believe in some measure of protection. I +am a firm believer in it. But the House wouldn't listen to me. The +times are not ripe for anything of the sort yet." + +"How do you know until you try?" Brooks protested. "Your promise was to +bring the question before Parliament in connection with the vast and +increasing number of unemployed. You are within your rights in doing +so, and to speak frankly we insist upon it, or we ask for your +resignation." + +"Are you speaking with authority, young man?" Mr. Henslow asked. + +"Of course I am. I am the representative of the Liberal Parliamentary +Committee, and I am empowered to say these things to you, and more. + +"Well, I'll do the best I can to get a date," Mr. Henslow said, +grumblingly, "but you fellows are always in such a hurry, and you don't +understand that it don't go up here. We have to wait our time month +after month sometimes." + +"I don't see any motion down in your name at all yet," Brooks remarked. + +"I told you that Sir Henry struck it through." + +"Then I shall call upon him and point out that he is throwing away a +Liberal seat at the next election," Brooks replied. "He isn't the sort +of man to encourage a Member to break his election pledges." + +"You'll make a mess of the whole thing if you do anything of the sort," +Henslow declared. "Look here, come and have a bit of dinner with me, +and talk things over a bit more pleasantly, eh? There's no use in +getting our rags out." + +"Please excuse me," Brooks said. "I have arranged to dine elsewhere. I +do not wish to seem dictatorial or unreasonable, but I have just come +from Medchester, where the distress is, if anything, worse than ever. +It makes one's heart sick to walk the streets, and when I look into the +people's faces I seem to always hear that great shout of hope and +enthusiasm which your speech in the market-place evoked. You see, there +is only one real hope for these people, and that is legislation, and you +are the man directly responsible to them for that." + +"I'll tell you what I'll do!" Mr. Henslow said, in a burst of +generosity. "I'll send another ten guineas to the Unemployed Fund." + +"Take my advice and don't," Brooks answered, dryly. "They might be +reminded of the people who clamoured for bread and were offered a stone. +Do your duty here. Keep your pledges. Speak in the House with the same +passion and the same eloquence as when you sowed hope in the heart of +those suffering thousands. Some one must break away from this musty +routine of Party politics. The people will be heard, Mr. Henslow. +Their voice has dominated the fate of every nation in time, and it will +be so with ours." + +Mr. Henslow was silent for a few minutes. This young man who would +not drink champagne, or be hail-fellow-well-met, and who was in such +deadly earnest, was a nuisance. + +"I tell you what I'll do," he said at last. "I'll have a few words with +Sir Henry, and see you tomorrow at what time you like." + +"Certainly," Brooks answered, rising. "If you will allow me to make a +suggestion, Mr. Henslow, I would ask you to run through in your memory +all your speeches and go through your pledges one by one. Let Sir Henry +understand that your constituents will not be trifled with, for it is +not a question of another candidate, it is a question of another party. +You have set the ball rolling, and I can assure you that the next Member +whom Medchester sends here, whether it be you or any one else, will come +fully pledged to a certain measure of Protection." + +Mr. Henslow nodded. + +"Very well," he said, gloomily. "Where are you staying? + +"At the Metropole. Mr. Bullsom is there also." + +"I will call," Mr. Henslow promised, "at three o'clock, if that is +convenient." + +Brooks passed out across the great courtyard and through the gates. He +had gone to his interview with Henslow in a somewhat depressed state of +mind, and its result had not been enlivening. Were all politics like +this? Was the greatest of causes, the cause of the people, to be tossed +about from one to the other, a joke with some, a juggling ball with +others, never to be dealt with firmly and wisely by the brains and +generosity of the Empire? He looked back at the Houses of Parliament, +with their myriad lights, their dark, impressive outline. And for a +moment the depression passed away. He thought of the freedom which had +been won within those walls, of the gigantic struggles, the endless, +restless journeying onward towards the truths, the great truths of the +world. All politicians were not as this man Henslow. There were +others, more strenuous, more single-hearted. He himself--and his heart +beat at the thought--why should he not take his place there? The thought +fascinated him,--every word of Lord Arranmore's letter which he had +recently received, seemed to stand out before him. His feet fell more +blithely upon the pavement, he carried himself with a different air. +Here were ample means to fill his life,--means by which he could crush +out that sweet but unhappy tangle of memories which somehow or other had +stolen the flavour out of life for the last few weeks. + +At the hotel he glanced at the clock. It was just eight, and he was to +accompany the Bullsoms to the theatre. He met them in the hall, and +Selina looked with reproach at his morning clothes. She was wearing a +new swansdown theatre cloak, with a collar which she had turned up round +her face like a frame. She was convinced that she had never looked so +well in her life. + +"Mr. Brooks, how naughty of you," she exclaimed, shaking her head in +mock reproach. "Why, the play begins at 8:15, and it is eight o'clock +already. Have you had dinner?" + +"Oh, I can manage with something in my room while I change," he answered +cheerily. "I'm going to take you all out to supper after the theatre, +you know. Don't wait for me--I'll come on. His Majesty's, isn't it?" + +"I'll keep your seat," Selina promised him, lowering her voice. "That +is, if you are very good and come before it is half over. Do you know +that we met a friend of yours, and he lent us his carriage, and I think +he's charming." + +Brooks looked surprised. He glanced at Mary, and saw a look in her face +which came as a revelation to him. + +"You don't mean--" + +"Lord Arranmore!" Selina declared, triumphantly. "He was so nice, he +wouldn't let us come home in a cab. He positively made us take his own +carriage." + +Mr. Bullsom came hurrying up. + +"Cab waiting," he announced. "Come on, girls." + +"See you later, then, Brooks." + +Brooks changed his clothes leisurely, and went into the smoking-room for +some sandwiches and a glass of wine. A small boy shouting his number +attracted his attention. He called him, and was handed a card. + +"Lord Arranmore!" + +"You can show the gentleman here," Brooks directed. + +Arranmore came in, and nodded a little wearily to Brooks, whom he had +not seen since the latter had left Enton. + +"I won't keep you," he remarked. "I just wanted a word with you about +that obstinate young person Miss--er--Scott." + +Brooks wheeled an easy-chair towards him. + +"I am in no great hurry," he remarked. + +Arranmore glanced at the clock. + +"More am I," he said, "but I find I am dining with the Prime Minister at +nine o'clock. It occurs to me that you may have some influence with +her." + +"We are on fairly friendly terms," Brooks admitted. + +"Just so. Well, she may have told you that my solicitors approached +her, as the daughter of Martin Scott, with the offer of a certain sum of +money, which is only a fair and reasonable item, which I won from her +father at a time when we were not playing on equal terms. It was +through that she found me out." + +"Yes, I knew as much as that." + +"So I imagined. But the hot-headed young woman has up to now steadily +refused to accept anything whatever from me. Quite ridiculous of her. +There's no doubt that I broke up the happy home, and all that sort of +thing, and I really can't see why she shouldn't permit me the +opportunity of making some restitution." + +"You want her to afford you the luxury of salving your conscience," +Brooks remarked, dryly. + +Lord Arranmore laughed hardly. + +"Conscience," he repeated. "You ought to know me better, Brooks, than +to suppose me possessed of such a thing. No; I have a sense of justice, +that is all--a sort of weakness for seeing the scales held fairly. Now, +don't you think it is reasonable that she should accept this money from +me?" + +"It depends entirely upon how she feels," Brooks answered. "You have no +right to press it upon her if she has scruples. Nor have you any right +to try and enlist her family on your side, as you seem to be doing." + +Will you discuss it with her? + +"I should not attempt to influence her," Brooks answered. + +"Be reasonable, Brooks. The money can make no earthly difference to +me, and it secures for her independence. The obligation, if only a +moral one, is real enough. There is no question of charity. Use your +influence with her." + +Brooks shook his head. + +"I have great confidence in Miss Scott's own judgment," he said. "I +prefer not to interfere." + +Arranmore sat quite still for a moment. Then he rose slowly to his +feet. + +"I am sorry to have troubled you," he said. "The world seems to have +grown more quixotic since I knew it better. I am almost afraid to ask +you whether my last letter has yet received the favour of your +consideration." + +Brooks flushed a little at the biting sarcasm in Arranmore's tone, but +he restrained himself. + +"I have considered--the matter fully," he said; "and I have talked it +over with Mr. Ascough. There seems to be no reason why I should refuse +the income to which I seem to be entitled." + +Lord Arranmore nodded and lit a cigarette. + +"I am thankful," he said, dryly, "for so much common-sense. Mr. +Ascough will put you in possession of a banking account at any moment. +Should you consider it--well--intrusive on my part if I were to inquire +as to your plans?" + +Brooks hesitated. + +"They are as yet not wholly formed," he said, "but I am thinking of +studying social politics for some time here in London with the intention +of entering public life." + +"A very laudable ambition," Lord Arranmore answered. "If I can be of +any assistance to you, I trust that you will not fail to let me know." + +"I thank you," Brooks answered. "I shall not require any assistance +from you." + +Lord Arranmore winced perceptibly. Brooks, who would not have believed +him capable of such a thing, for a moment doubted his eyes. + +"I am much obliged for your candour," Lord Arranmore said, coldly, and +with complete self-recovery. "Don't trouble to come to the door. +Good-evening." + +Brooks was alone. He sat down in one of the big easy-chairs, and for a +moment forgot that empty stall next to Selina. He had seen the first +sign of weakness in a man whom he had judged to be wholly and entirely +heartless. + + + +CHAPTER III + +MARY SCOTT'S TWO VISITORS + +"I AM sure," he said, "that Selina would consider this most improper." + +"You are quite right," Mary assured him, laughing. "It was one of the +first things she mentioned. When I told her that I should ask any one +to tea I liked she was positively indignant." + +"It is hard to believe that you are cousins," he remarked. + +"We were brought up very differently." + +He looked around him. He was in a tiny sitting-room of a tiny flat high +up in a great building. Out of the window he seemed to look down upon +the Ferris wheel. Inside everything was cramped but cosy. Mary Scott +sat behind the tea-tray, and laughed at his expression. + +"I will read your thoughts," she exclaimed. "You are wondering how you +will get out of this room without knocking anything over." + +"On the contrary," he answered, "I was wondering how I ever got in." + +"You were really very clever. Now do have some more tea, and tell me +all the news." + +"I will have the tea, if you please," he answered, "and you shall have +the news, such as it is." + +"First of all then," she said, "I hear that you are leaving Medchester, +giving up your business and coming to live in London, and that you have +had some money left you. Do you know that all this sounds very +mysterious?" + +"I admit it," he answered, slowly stirring his tea. "Yet in the +main--it is true." + +"How nice to hear all about it," she sighed, contentedly. "You know I +have scarcely had a word with you while my uncle and cousins were up. +Selina monopolized you most disgracefully." + +He looked at her with twinkling eyes. + +"Selina was very amusing," he said. + +"You seemed to find her so," she answered. "But Selina isn't here now, +and you have to entertain me. You are really going to live in London?" + +He nodded. + +"I have taken rooms!" + +"Delightful. Whereabouts?" "In Jermyn Street!" + +"And are you going to practise?" + +He shook his head. + +"No, I shall have enough to live on. I am going to study social +subjects and politics generally." + +"You are going into Parliament?" she exclaimed, breathlessly. + +"Some day, perhaps," he answered, hesitatingly. "If I can find a +constituency." + +She was silent for a moment. + +"Do you know, I think I rather dislike you," she said. "I envy you most +hideously." + +He laughed. + +"What an evil nature!" + +"Well, I've never denied it. I'm dreadfully envious of people who have +the chance of doing things, whose limitations are not chalked out on the +blackboard before them." + +"Oh, well, you yourself are not at Medchester now," he reminded her. +"You have kicked your own limitation away. Literature is as wide a +field as politics." + +"That is true enough," she answered. "I must not grumble. After +Medchester this is elysium. But literature is a big name to give my +little efforts. I'm just a helper on a lady's threepenny paper, and +between you and me I don't believe they think much of my work yet." + +He laughed. + +"Surely they haven't been discouraging you?" + +"No, they have been very kind. But they keep on assuring me that I am +bound to improve, and the way they use the blue pencil! However, it's +only the journalist's part they go for. The little stories are all +right still.'' + +"I should think so," he declared, warmly. "I think they are charming." + +"How nice you are," she sighed. "No wonder Selina didn't like going +home." + +He looked at her in amused wonder. + +"Do you know," he said, "you are getting positively frivolous. I don't +recognize you. I never saw such a change." + +She leaned back in her chair, laughing heartily, her eyes bright, her +beautiful white teeth in delightful evidence. + +"Oh, I suppose it's the sense of freedom," she exclaimed. "It's +delightful, isn't it? Medchester had got on my nerves. I hated it. +One saw nothing but the ugly side of life, day after day. It was +hideously depressing. Here one can breathe. There's room for every +one." + +"The change agrees with you!" + +"Why not. I feel years younger. Think how much there is to do, and +see, even for a pauper like myself--picture galleries, the shops, the +people, the theatres." + +He looked at her thoughtfully. + +"Don't think me a prig, will you?" he said, "but I want to understand +you. In Medchester you used to work for the people--it was the greater +part of your life. You are not giving that up altogether, are you?" + +She laughed him to scorn. + +"Am I such a butterfly? No, I hope to get some serious work to do, and +I am looking forward to it. I have a letter of introduction to a Mrs. +Capenhurst, whom I am going to see on Sunday. I expect to learn a lot +from her. I was very, very sorry to leave my own girls. It was the +only regret I had in leaving Medchester. By the bye, what is this about +Mr. Henslow?" + +"We are thinking of asking him to resign," Brooks answered. "He has +been a terrible disappointment to us." + +She nodded. + +"I am sorry. From his speeches he seemed such an excellent candidate." + +"He was a magnificent candidate," Brooks said ruefully, "but a shocking +Member. I am afraid what I heard in the City the other day must have +some truth in it. They say that he only wanted to be able to write M.P. +after his name for this last session to get on the board of two new +companies. He will never sit for Medchester again." + +"He was at the hotel the other day, wasn't he?" Mary asked, "with you +and uncle? What has he to say for himself?" + +"Well, he shelters himself behind the old fudge about duty to his +Party," Brooks answered. "You see the Liberals only just scraped in +last election because of the war scandals, and their majority is too +small for them to care about any of the rank and file introducing any +disputative measures. Still that scarcely affects the question. He won +his seat on certain definite pledges, and if he persists in his present +attitude, we shall ask him at once to resign." + +You still keep up your interest in Medchester, then?" + +"Why, yes!" he answered. "Between ourselves, if I could choose, I would +rather, when the time comes, stand for Medchester than anywhere." + +"I am glad! I should like to see you Member for Medchester. Do you +know, even now, although I am so happy, I cannot think about the last +few months there without a shudder. It seemed to me that things were +getting worse and worse. The people's faces haunt me sometimes." + +He looked up at her sympathetically. + +"If you have once lived with them," he said, "once really understood, +you never can forget. You can travel or amuse yourself in any way, but +their faces are always coming before you, their voices seem always in +your ears. It is the one eternal sadness of life. And the strangest +part of it is, that just as you who have once really understood can +never forget, so it is the most difficult thing in the world to make +those people understand who have not themselves lived and toiled +amongst them. It is a cry which you cannot translate, but if once you +have heard it, it will follow you from the earth to the stars." + +"You too, then," she said, "have some of the old aim at heart. You are +not going to immerse yourself wholly in politics?" + +"My studies," he said, "will be in life. It is not from books that I +hope to gain experience. I want to get a little nearer to the heart of +the thing. You and I may easily come across one another, even in this +great city." + +"You," she said, "are going to watch, to observe, to trace the external +only that you may understand the internal. But I am going to work on my +hands and knees." + +"And you think that I am going to play the dilettante?" + +"Not altogether. But you will want to pass from one scheme to another +to see the inner workings of all. I shall be content to find occupation +in any one. + +"I shall be coming to you," he said, "for information and help." + +"I doubt it," she answered, cheerfully. "Never mind! It is pleasant to +build castles, and we may yet find ourselves working side by side." + +He suddenly looked at her. + +"I have answered all your questions," he said. "There is something +about you which I should like to know." + +"I am sure you shall." + +"Lord Arranmore came to me when I was staying at the Metropole with your +uncle and cousin. He wished me to use my influence with you to induce +you to accept a certain sum of money which it seemed that you had +already declined." + +"Well?" + +"Of course I refused. In the first place, as I told him, I was not +aware that I possessed any influence over you. And in the second I had +every confidence in your own judgment." + +She was suddenly very thoughtful. + +"My own judgment," she repeated. "I am afraid that I have lost a good +deal of faith in that lately." + +"Why?" + +"I have learned to repent of that impulsive visit of mine to Enton." + +"Again why?" + +"I was mad with rage against Lord Arranmore. I think that I was wrong. +It was many years ago, and he has repented." + +Brooks smiled faintly. The idea of Lord Arranmore repenting of anything +appealed in some measure to his sense of humour. + +"Then I am afraid that I did him some great harm in accusing him like +that--openly. He has seemed to me since like an altered man. Tell me, +those others who were there--they believed me?" + +"Yes." + +"It did him harm--with the lady, the handsome woman who was playing +billiards with him?" + +"Yes." + +"Was he engaged to her? + +"No! He proposed to her afterwards, and she refused him." + +Her eyes were suddenly dim. + +"I am sorry," she said. + +"I think," he said, quietly, "that you need not be. You probably saved +her a good deal of unhappiness." + +She looked at him curiously. + +"Why are you so bitter against Lord Arranmore?" she asked. + +"I?" he laughed. "I am not bitter against him. Only I believe him to +be a man without heart or conscience or principles." + +"That is your opinion--really?" + +"Really! Decidedly." + +"Then I don't agree with you," she answered. + +"Why not?" + +"Simply that I don't." + +"Excellent! But you have reasons as well as convictions? + +"Perhaps. Why, for instance, is he so anxious for me to have this +money? That must be a matter of conscience?" + +"Not necessarily. An accident might bring his Montreal career to light. +His behaviour towards you would be an excellent defence." + +She shook her head. + +"He isn't mean enough to think so far ahead for his own advantage. +Villain or paragon, he is on a large scale, your Lord Arranmore." + +"He has had the good fortune," Brooks said, with a note of satire in his +tone, "to attract your sympathies." + +"Why not? I struck hard enough at him, and he has borne me no ill-will. +He even made friends with Selina and my uncle to induce me to accept his +well, conscience money." + +"I need not ask you what the result was," Brooks said. "You declined +it, of course." + +She looked at him thoughtfully. + +"I refused it at first, as you know," she said. "Since then, well, I +have wavered." + +He looked at her blankly. + +"You mean--that you have contemplated--accepting it?" + +"Why not? There is reason in it. I do not say that I have accepted it, +but at any rate I see nothing which should make you look upon my +possible acceptance as a heinous thing." + +He was silent for a moment. + +"May I ask you then what the position is?" + +"I will tell you. Lord Arranmore is coming to me perhaps this afternoon +for my answer. I asked him for a few days to think it over." + +"And your decision--is it ready?" + +"No, I don't think it is," she admitted. "To tell you the truth, I +shall not decide until he is actually here--until I have heard just how +he speaks of it." + +He got up and stood for a moment looking out of the window. Then he +turned suddenly towards her with outstretched hand. + +"I am going--Miss Scott. Good-afternoon." She rose and held out her +hand. + +"Aren't you--a little abrupt?" she asked. + +"Perhaps I am. I think that it is better that I should go away now. +There are reasons why I do not want to talk about Lord Arranmore, or +discuss this matter with you, and if I stayed I might do both. Will you +dine with me somewhere on Friday night? I will come and fetch you." + +"Of course I will. Do be careful how you walk. About 7:30." + +"I will be here by then," he answered. + +On the last flight of stone steps he came face to face with Lord +Arranmore, who nodded and pointed upwards with his walking-stick. + +"How much of this sort of thing?" he asked, dryly. + +"Ten storeys," Brooks answered, and passed out into the street. + +Lord Arranmore looked after him--watched him until he was out of sight. +Then he stood irresolute for several moments, tapping his boots. + +"Damned young fool!" he muttered at last; and began the ascent. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A MARQUIS ON MATRIMONY + +"My dear Miss Scott," Lord Arranmore said, settling himself in the most +comfortable of her fragile easy-chairs, and declining tea. "I cannot +fail to perceive that my cause is hopeless. The united efforts of +myself and your worthy relatives appear to be powerless to unearth a +single grain of common-sense in your--er--pardon me--singularly +obstinate disposition." + +A subdued smile played at the corners of her mouth. + +"I am delighted that you are convinced, Lord Arranmore," she said. "It +will save us both a good deal of time and breath." + +"Well--as to that I am not so sure," he answered, deliberately. "You +forget that there is still an important matter to be decided." + +She looked at him questioningly. + +"The disposal of the money, of course," he said. + +"The disposal of it? But that has nothing to do with me!" she declared. +"I refuse to touch it--to have anything to do with it." + +He shook his head. + +"You see," he explained, "I have placed it, or rather my solicitors +have, in trust. Actually you may decline, as you are doing, to have +anything to do with it--legally you cannot avoid your responsibilities. +That money cannot be touched without your signature." + +She laughed a little indignantly. + + +"Then you had better withdraw it from trust, or whatever you call it, at +once. If it was there until I was eighty I should never touch it." + +"I understand that perfectly," Lord Arranmore said. "You have refused +it. Very well! What are we going to do with it?" + +"Put it back where it came from, of course," she answered. + +"Well," he said, "by signing several papers that might be managed. In +that case I should distribute it amongst the various public-houses in +the East End to provide drinks for the thirstiest of their customers." + +"If you think that," she said, scornfully, "a reputable use to make of +your money." + +He held out his hand. + +"My dear Miss Scott. Our money!" + +"The money," she exclaimed. "I repeat, the money. Well, there is +nothing more to be said about it." + +"Will you sign the papers which authorize me to distribute the money in +this way?" + +She thought for a moment. + +"No; I will not." + +"Exactly. You would be very foolish and very untrue to your principles +if you did. So you see, this sum is not to be foisted altogether upon +me, for there is no doubt that I should misuse it. Now I believe that +if you were to give the matter a little consideration you could hit upon +a more reasonable manner of laying out this sum. Don't interrupt me, +please. My own views as to charity you know. You however look at the +matter from an altogether different point of view. Let us leave it +where it is for the moment. Something may occur to you within the next +few months. Don't let it be a hospital, if you can help it--something +altogether original would be best. Set your brain to work. I shall be +at your service at any moment." + +He rose to his feet and began slowly to collect his belongings. Then +their eyes met, and she burst out laughing--he too smiled. + +"You are very ingenious, Lord Arranmore," she said. + +"It is my conscience," he assured her. "It is out of gear to the tune +of three thousand." + +"I don't believe in the conscience," she answered. 'This is sheer +obstinacy. You have made up your mind that I should be interested in +that money somehow, and you can't bear to suffer defeat." + +"I am an old man," he said, "and you are a young woman. Let us leave it +where it is for a while. I have an idea of the sort of life which you +are planning for yourself. Believe me, that before you have lived here +for many months you will be willing to give years of your life, years of +your labour and your youth, to throw yourself into a struggle which +without money is hopeless. Remember that there was a time when I too +was young. I too saw these things as you and Brooks see them to-day. I +do not wish to preach pessimism to you. I fought and was worsted. So +will you be. The whole thing is a vast chimera, a jest of the God you +have made for yourself. But as long as the world lasts the young will +have to buy knowledge--as I have bought it. Don't go into the fray +empty-handed--it will only prolong the suffering." + +"You speak," she protested, gently, "as though it were impossible to do +good." + +"It is absolutely and entirely impossible to do good by any means which +you and Brooks and the whole army of your fellow-philanthropists have +yet evoked," he answered, with a sudden fierce note in his tone. "Don't +think that I speak to you as a cynic, one who loiters on the edge of the +cauldron and peers in to gratify cravings for sensation. I have been +there, down in the thick of it, there where the mud is as black as +hell--bottomless as eternity. I was young--as you--mad with enthusiasm. +I had faith, strength, belief. I meant to cleanse the world. I +worked till the skin hung on my bones. I gave all that I +had--youth--gifts--money. And, do you know what I was doing? I was +swimming against the tide of natural law, stronger than all mankind, +unconquerable, eternal. There wasn't the smallest corner of the world +the better for my broken life. There wasn't a child, a man, or a woman +content to grasp my hand and climb out. There were plenty who mocked +me. But they fell back again. They fell back always." + +"Oh, but you can't tell that," she cried. "You can't be sure." + +"You can be as sure of it as of life itself," he answered. "Come, take +my advice. I know. I can save you a broken youth--a broken heart. +Keep away from there." + +He pointed out of the window eastwards. + +"You can be charitable like the others, subscribe to societies, visit +the sick, read the Bible, play at it as long as you like--but keep away +from the real thing. If you feel the fever in your veins--fly. Go +abroad, study art, literature, music--anything. Only don't listen to +that cry. It will draw you against your will even. But not you nor the +whole world of women, or the world full of gold, will ever stop it. It +is the everlasting legacy to the world of outraged nature." + +He went swiftly and silently, leaving her motionless. She saw him far +down on the pavement below step into his brougham, pausing for a moment +to light a cigarette. And half-an-hour later he walked with elastic +tread into Mr. Ascough's office. + +Mr. Ascough greeted him with an inquiring smile. Lord Arranmore +nodded and sat down. + +"You were quite right," he announced. "The tongues of men or of angels +wouldn't move her. Never mind. She's going to use the money for +charity." + +"Well, that's something, at any rate," Mr. Ascough remarked. + +"The eloquence," Lord Arranmore said, lazily, "which I have wasted upon +that young woman would entrance the House of Lords. By the bye, +Ascough, I am going to take my seat next week." + +"I am delighted to hear it, your lordship." + +"Yes, it's good news for the country, isn't it?" Lord Arranmore +remarked. "I have not quite decided what my particular line shall be, +but I have no doubt but that the papers will all be calling me a welcome +addition to that august assembly before long. I believe that's what's +the matter with me. I want to make a speech. Do you remember me at the +Bar, Ascough? Couldn't keep me down, could they?" + +Mr. Ascough smiled. + +"You were rather fond of being on your feet!" he admitted. + +Lord Arranmore sighed regretfully. + +"And to think that I might have been Lord High Chancellor by now," he +remarked. "Good-bye, Ascough." + + * * * * * + +Later, at the reception of a Cabinet Minister, Lord Arranmore came +across Hennibul talking with half-a-dozen other men. He detached himself +at once. + +"This is odd," he remarked, with a whimsical smile. "What the dickens +are you doing in this respectable household, Arranmore? You look like a +lost sheep." + +Lord Arranmore shrugged his shoulders. + +"I've decided to go in for something," he said; "politics or society or +something of that sort. What do you recommend?" + +"Supper!" Mr. Hennibul answered, promptly. + +"Come on then," Lord Arranmore assented. "One of those little tables in +the far room, eh?" + +"The pate here is delicious," Mr. Hennibul said; "but for Heaven's sake +leave the champagne alone." "There's some decent hock. You'll excuse my +pointing out these little things to you, but, of course, you don't know +the runs yet. I'll give you a safe tip while I'm about it. The +Opposition food is beastly, but the wine is all right--Pommery and +Heidsieck, most of it, and the right years. The Government food now is +good, but the wine, especially the champagne, is positively unholy." + +"One should eat then with the Government, and drink with the +Opposition," Lord Arranmore remarked. + +"Or, better still," Mr. Hennibul said, "do both with the Speaker. By +the bye, did you know that they are going to make me a judge?" + +"I heard that your friends wanted to get rid of you!" Arranmore +answered. + +"To make yourself obnoxious--thoroughly obnoxious," Mr. Hennibul +murmured, "is the sure road to advancement." + +"That's right, give me a few tips," Lord Arranmore begged, sipping his +wine. + +"My dear fellow, I don't know what you're going in for yet." + +"Neither do I. What about the stage? I used to be rather good at +private theatricals. Elderly Wyndhamy parts, you know." + +Mr. Hennibul shook his head. + +"Twenty years too late," he declared. "Even the suburbs turn up their +noses at a lord now." + +"I must do something," Arranmore declared, meditatively. + +"Don't see the necessity," Hennibul remarked. + +Lord Arranmore lifted his glass and looked thoughtfully at the wine for +a moment. + +"Ah, well," he said, "you were born lazy, and I was born restless. That +is the reason you have done something, and I haven't." + +"If you want my advice--my serious advice," the K. C. said, quietly, +"you will make yourself a nuisance to that right woman, whoever she is, +until she marries you--if only to get rid of you." + +"All sorts of things in the way," Lord Arranmore declared. "You see, I +was married abroad." + +Mr. Hennibul looked up quickly. + +"Nonsense!" + +"Quite true, I assure you." + +"Is she alive?" + +"No--but her son is. + +"Great Heavens. Why, he's Lord Kingston?" + +"Of course he is." + +"How old is he?" + +"Twenty-eight--or somewhere thereabouts." + +"What is he doing? Where is he? Why don't we know him?" + +"He doesn't approve of me," Lord Arranmore said. "Fact, really! We are +scarcely on speaking terms." + +"Why not?" + +"Says I deserted his mother. So I did! Played the blackguard +altogether. Left 'em both to starve, or next door to it!" + +Mr. Hennibul fetched out his handkerchief and dabbed his forehead. + +"You are serious, Arranmore?" + +"Rather! You wouldn't expect me to be frivolous on this hock." + +"That young man must be talked to," Mr. Hennibul declared. "He ought +to be filling his proper place in the world. It's no use carrying on a +grudge against his own father. Let me have a try at him." + +"No!" Lord Arranmore said, quietly. "I am obliged to you, Hennibul, but +the matter is one which does not admit of outside interference, however +kindly. Besides, the boy is right. I wilfully deserted both him and +his mother, and she died during my absence. My life, whilst away from +them, was the sort one forgets--or tries to--and he knows about it. +Further, when I returned to England I was two years before I took the +trouble to go and see him. I merely alluded to these domestic matters +that you might not wholly misjudge the situation." + +Mr. Hennibul went on with his supper in silence. Lord Arranmore. +whose appetite had soon failed him, leaned back in his chair and watched +the people in the further room. + +"This rather puts me off politics," he remarked, after a while. "I +don't like the look of the people." + +"Oh, you'll get in for the select crushers," Mr. Hennibul said. "This +is a rank and file affair. You mustn't judge by appearances. But why +must you specialize? Take my advice. Don't go in specially for +politics, or society, or sport. Mix them all up. Be cosmopolitan and +commonplace." + +"Upon my word, Hennibul, you are a genius," Arranmore declared, "and +yonder goes my good fairy." + +He sprang up and disappeared into the further room. + +"Lady Caroom," he exclaimed, bending over her shoulder. "I never +suspected it of you." + +She started slightly--she was silent perhaps for the fraction of a +second. Then she looked up with a bright smile, meeting him on his own +ground. + +"But of you," she cried, "it is incredible. Come at once and explain." + + + +CHAPTER V + +BROOKS ENLISTS A RECRUIT + +Brooks had found a small restaurant in the heart of fashionable London, +where the appointments and decorations were French, and the waiters were +not disposed to patronize. Of the cooking neither he nor Mary Scott in +those days was a critic. Nevertheless she protested against the length +of the dinner which he ordered. + +"I want an excuse," he declared, laying down the carte, "for a good long +chat. We shall be too late for the theatre, so we may as well resign +ourselves to an hour or so of one another's society." + +She shook her head. + +"A very apt excuse for unwarrantable greediness," she declared. "Surely +we can talk without eating?" + +He shook his head. + +"You do not smoke, and you do not drink liqueurs," he remarked. "Now I +have noticed that it is simply impossible for one to sit before an empty +table after dinner and not feel that one ought to go. Let the waiter +take your cape. You will find the room warm. + +"Do you remember," she asked him, "the first night we dined together?" + +He looked at her with twinkling eyes. + +"Rather! It was my introduction to your uncle's household. Selina sat +on my left, and Louise on my right. You sat opposite, tired and +disagreeable." + +"I was tired--and I am always disagreeable." + +"I have noticed it," he agreed, equably. "I hope you like oysters." + +"If Selina were to see us now," she remarked, with a sudden humorous +smile, "how shocked she would be." + +"What a little far-away world it seems down there," he said +thoughtfully. "After all, I am glad that I have not to live in +Medchester all my life." + +"You have been there this afternoon, haven't you?" + +"Yes. Henslow is giving us a lot of trouble. I am afraid we shall lose +the seat next election." + +"Do you mind?" + +"Not much. I am no party politician. I want to see Medchester +represented by a man who will go there with a sense of political +proportion, and I don't care whether he calls himself Liberal, or +Radical, or Conservative, or Unionist." + +"Please explain what you mean by that," she begged. + +"Why, yes. I mean a man who will understand how enormously more +important is the welfare of our own people, the people of whom we are +making slaves, than this feverish Imperialism and war cant. Mind, I +think our patriotism should be a thing wholly understood. It needn't be +talked about. It makes showy fireworks for the platform, but it's all +unnecessary and to my mind very undignified. If only people would take +that for granted and go on to something worth while." + +"Are things any better in Medchester just now?" she asked. + +"On the surface, yes, but on the surface only. More factories are +running half-time, but after all what does that mean? It's slow +starvation. A man can't live and keep a family on fifteen shillings a +week, even if his wife earns a little. He can't do it in a dignified +manner, and with cleanliness and health. That is what he has a right +to. That is what the next generation will demand. He should have room +to expand. Cleanliness, air, fresh food. Every man and woman who is +born into the world has a God-given right to these, and there are +millions in Medchester, Manchester, and all the great cities who are +denied all three." + +"So all Henslow's great schemes, his Royal Commissions, his Protection +Duties, his great Housing Bill, have come to nothing then?" she +remarked. + +"To less than nothing," he answered, gloomily. "The man was a fraud. +He is not worth attempting to bully. He is a puppet politician of a +type that ought to have been dead and buried generations ago. Enoch +Stone is our only hope in the House now. He is a strong man, and he +has hold of the truth." + +"Have they decided upon Henslow's successor?" she asked. + +"Not yet," he answered. + +She looked up at him. + +"I heard from uncle this morning," she said, smiling meaningly. + +He shook his head. + +"Well, it was mentioned," he said, "but I would not hear of it. I am +altogether too young and inexperienced. I want to live with the people +for a year or two first. That is why I am glad to get to London." + +"With the people?" she asked, "in Jermyn Street?" + +He laughed good-humouredly. + +"I have also lodgings in the Bethnal Green Road," he said. "I took +possession of them last week." + +"Anywhere near Merry's Corner?" she asked. + +"What do you know about Merry's Corner?" he exclaimed, with uplifted +eyebrows. "Yes, my rooms are nearly opposite, at the corner of the next +street." + +"I've been down there once or twice lately," she said. "There's a +mission-hall just there, and a girl named Kate Stuart gave me a letter +to go three times a week." + +He nodded. + +"I know the place. Week-night services and hymn-singing and preaching. +A cold, desolate affair altogether. I'm thankful I went in there, +though, for it's given me an idea." + +Yes? + +"I'm going to start a mission myself." + +"Go on." + +"On a new principle. The first thing will be that there will be no +religious services whatever. I won't have a clergyman connected with +it. It will be intended solely for the benefit of the people from a +temporal point of view." + +"You are going a long way," she said. "What about Sundays?" + +"There will be a very short service for the mission helpers only. No +one will be asked from outside at all. If they come it will be as a +favour. Directly it is over the usual week-day procedure will go on. + +"And what is that to be?" + +Brooks smiled a little doubtfully. + +"Well," he said, "I've got the main idea in my head, but all the details +want thinking out. I want the place to be a sort of help bureau, to +give the people living in a certain street or couple of streets +somewhere to go for advice and help in cases of emergency. There will +be no money given away, under any consideration--only food, clothing, +and, if they are asked for, books. I shall have half-a-dozen bathrooms, +and the people who come regularly for advice and help will have to use +them and to keep their houses clean. There will be no distinction as to +character. We shall help the drunkards and the very worst of them just +the same as the others if they apply. If we get enough helpers there +will be plenty of branches we can open. I should like to have a +children's branch, for instance--one or two women will take the children +of the neighbourhood in hand and bathe them every day. As we get to +know the people better and appreciate their special needs other things +will suggest themselves. But I want them to feel that they have some +place to fail back upon. We shall be frightfully humbugged, robbed, +cheated, and deceived--at first. I fancy that after a time that will +wear itself out." + +"It is a fascinating idea," she said, thoughtfully, "but to carry it out +in any way thoroughly you want a great many helpers and a great deal of +money." + +"I have enough to start it," he said, "and when it is really going and +improving itself I shall go out and ask for subscriptions-big ones, you +know, from the right sort of people. You can always get money if you +can show that it is to be well spent." + +"And what about the helpers?" + +"Well, I know of a few," he said, "who I think would come in, and there +is one to whom I would have to pay a small salary." + +"I could come in the afternoons," she said. + +"Capital! But are you sure," he said, after a moment's hesitation, +"that it is quite fair to yourself? + +"Oh, I can manage with my morning's salary," she answered, laughing. "I +shan't starve. Besides, I can always burn a little midnight oil." + +A waiter stood at their table for a moment, deftly carving some new +dish, and Brooks, leaning back in his chair, glanced critically at his +companion. In his judgment she represented something in womankind +essentially of the durable type. He appreciated her good looks, the air +with which she wore her simple clothes, her large full eyes, her wide, +gently-humorous mouth, and the hair parted in the middle, and rippling +away towards her ears. A frank companionable woman, whose eyes had +never failed to look into his, in whom he had never at any time seen a +single shadow of embarrassment. It occurred to him just at that moment +that never since he had known her had he seen her interested to the +slightest degree in any man. He looked back at her thoughtfully. She +was young, good-looking, too catholic in her views of life and its +possibilities to refuse in any way to recognize its inevitable +tendencies. Yet he told himself complacently as he sipped his wine and +watched her gazing with amused interest at the little groups of people +about the place, that there must be in her composition a lack of +sentiment. Never for a second in their intercourse had she varied from +her usual good-natured cheerfulness. If there had been a shadow she had +brushed it away ruthlessly. Even on that terrible afternoon at Enton +she had sat in the cab white and silent--she had appealed to him in no +way for sympathy. + +The waiter retreated with a bow. She shot a swift glance across at him. + +"I object to being scrutinized," she declared. "Is it the plainness of +my hat or the depth of my wrinkles to which you object?" + +"Object!" he repeated. + +"Yes. You were looking for something which you did not find. You were +distinctly disappointed. Don't deny it. It isn't worth while." + +"I won't plead guilty to the disappointment," he answered, "but I'll +tell you the truth. I was thinking what a delightfully companionable +girl you were, and yet how different from any other girl I have ever met +in my life." + +"That sounds hackneyed--the latter part of it," she remarked, "but in my +case I see that it is not intended to be a compliment. What do I lack +that other girls have? + +"You are putting me in a tight corner," he declared. "It isn't that you +lack anything, but nearly all the girls one meets some time or other +seem to expect from one nice little speeches or compliments, just a +little sentiment now and then. Now you seem so entirely superior to +that sort of thing altogether. It is a ridiculously lame explanation. +The thing's in my head all right, but I can't get it out. I can only +express it when I say that you are the only girl I have ever known, or +known of, in my life with whom sex would never interfere with +companionship." + +She stirred her coffee absently. At first he thought that she might be +offended, for she did not look up for several moments. + +"I'm afraid I failed altogether to make you understand what I meant," he +said, humbly. "It is the result of an attempt at too great candour." + +Then she looked up and smiled at him graciously enough, though it seemed +to him that she was a little pale. + +"I am sure you were delightfully lucid," she said. "I quite understood, +and on the whole I think I agree with you. I don't think that the +sentimental side of me has been properly developed. By the bye, you +were going to tell me about that pretty girl I saw at Enton--Lady +Caroom's daughter, wasn't she?" + +His face lit up--she saw his thoughts go flitting away, and the corner +of his lips curl in a retrospective smile of pleasure. + +"Sybil Caroom," he said, softly. "She is a very charming girl. You +would like her, I am sure. Of course she's been brought up in rather a +frivolous world, but she's quite unspoilt, very sympathetic, and very +intelligent. Isn't that a good character?" + +"Very," she answered, with a suspicion of dryness in her tone. "Is this +paragon engaged to be married yet?" + +He looked at her, keenly surprised by the infusion of something foreign +in her tone. + +"I--I think not," he answered. "I should like you to meet her very +much. She will be coming to London soon, and I know that she will be +interested in our new scheme if it comes to anything. We will take her +down and give her a few practical lessons in philanthropy." + +"Will she be interested?" Mary asked. + +"Immensely," he answered, with confidence. "Lady Caroom is an awfully +good sort, too." + +Mary remembered the well-bred insolence of Lady Caroom's stare, the +contemplative incredulity which found militant expression in her +beautiful eyes and shapely curving lips, and for a moment half closed +her eyes. + +"Ah, well," she said, "that afternoon was rather a terrible one to me. +Let us talk of something else." + +He was profuse at once in apologies for his own thoughtlessness. But +she checked him almost at the outset. + +"It is I who am to blame for an unusual weakness," she said. "Let us +both forget it. And don't you find this place hot? Let us get outside +and walk." + +They found a soft misty rain falling. The commissionaire called a +hansom. She moved her skirts to make room for him. + +"I am going down to Stepney to see a man who I think will be interested +in my scheme," he said. "When may I come down again and have tea with +you?" + +"Any afternoon, if you will drop me a line the night before," she said, +"but I am not very likely to be out, in any case. Thank you so much for +my dinner. My aunt seemed to think that I was coming to London to +starve. I think I feel fairly safe this evening, at any rate." + +The cab drove off, skirting the gaily-lit crescent of Regent Street. +The smile almost at once died away from her lips. She leaned forward +and looked at herself in one of the oblong mirrors. Her face was almost +colourless, the skin seemed drawn closely round her eyes, giving her +almost a strained look. For the rest, her hair, smoothly brushed away +from her face, was in perfect order, her prim little hat was at exactly +the right angle, her little white tie alone relieved the sombreness of +her black jacket. She sighed and suddenly felt a moistening of her hot +eyes. She leaned far back into the corner of the cab. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +KINGSTON BROOKS, PHILANTHROPIST + +"It is my deliberate intention," Lord Arranmore said, leaning over +towards her from his low chair, "to make myself a nuisance to you." Lady +Caroom smiled at him thoughtfully. + +"Thank you for the warning," she said, "but I can take care of myself. +I do not feel even obliged to deny myself the pleasure of your society." + +"No, you won't do that," he remarked. "You see, so many people bore +you, and I don't." + +"It is true," she admitted. "You pay me nothing but unspoken +compliments, and you devote a considerable amount of ingenuity to +conceal the real meaning of everything you say. Now some people might +not like that. I adore it." + +"Catherine, will you marry me?" + +"Certainly not! I'm much too busy looking after Sybil, and in any case +you've had your answer, my friend." + +"You will marry me," he said, deliberately, "in less than two +years--perhaps in less than one. Why can't you make your mind up to +it?" + +"You know why, Arranmore," she said, quietly. "If you were the man I +remember many years ago, the man I have wasted many hours of my life +thinking about, I would not hesitate for a moment. I loved that man, +and I have always loved him. But, Arranmore, I cannot recognize him in +you. If these terrible things which you have suffered, these follies +which you have committed, have withered you up so that there remains no +trace of the man I once cared for, do you blame me for refusing you? I +will not marry a stranger, Arranmore, and I not only don't know you, but +I am a little afraid of you." + +He sighed. + +"Perhaps you are right," he said, softly. "I believe that the only +thing I have carried with me from the beginning, and shall have with me +to the end, is my love for you. Nothing else has survived." + +Her eyes filled with tears. She leaned over to him. + +"Dear friend," she said, "listen! At least I will promise you this. If +ever I should see the least little impulse or action which seems to me +to come from the Philip I once knew, and not Lord Arranmore, anything +which will convince me that some part, however slight, of the old has +survived, I will come to you." + +He sighed. + +"You alone," he said, "might work such a miracle." + +"Then come and see me often," she said, with a brilliant smile, "and I +will try." + +He moved his chair a little nearer to her. + +"You encourage me to hope," he said. "I remember that one night in the +conservatory I was presumptuous enough--to take your hand. History +repeats itself, you see, and I claim the prize, for I have fulfilled the +condition." + +She drew her hand away firmly, but without undue haste. + +"If you are going to be frivolous," she said, "I will have all the +callers shown in. You know very well that that is not what I mean. +There must be some unpremeditated action, some impulse which comes from +your own heart. Frankly, Arranmore, there are times now when I am +afraid of you. You seem to have no heart--to be absolutely devoid of +feeling, to be cold and calculating even in your slightest actions. +There, now I have told you just what I feel sometimes, and it doesn't +sound nice, does it?" + +"It sounds very true," he said, wearily. "Will you tell me where I can +buy a new heart and a fresh set of impulses, even a disposition, +perhaps? I'd be a customer. I'm willing enough." + +"Never mind that," she said, softly. "After all, I have a certain +amount of faith. A miracle may happen at any moment." + +Sybil came in, dressed in a fascinating short skirt and a toque. Her +maid on the threshold was carrying a small green baize box. + +"I am going to Prince's, mother, just for an hour, with Mrs. +Huntingdon. How do you do, Lord Arranmore? You'll keep mother from +being dull, won't you?" + +"It is your mother," he said, "who is making me dull." + +"Poor old mummy," Sybil declared, cheerfully. + +"Never mind. Her bark's a good deal worse than her bite. Good-bye, +both of you." + +Lord Arranmore rose and closed the door after her. + +"Sybil is a remarkably handsome young woman," he said. "Any signs of +her getting married yet?" + +Lady Caroom shook her head. + +"No! Arranmore, that reminds me, what has become of--Mr. Brooks?" Lord +Arranmore smiled a little bitterly. "He is in London." + +"I have never seen him, you must remember, since that evening. Is he +still--unforgiving? + +"Yes! He refuses to be acknowledged. He is taking the bare income +which is his by law--it comes from a settlement to the eldest son--and +he is studying practical philanthropy in the slums." + +"I am sorry," she said. "I like him, and he would be a companion for +you." + +"He's not to be blamed," Lord Arranmore said. "From his point of view I +have been the most scandalous parent upon this earth." Lady Caroom +sighed. + +"Do you know," she said, "that he and Sybil were very friendly? + +"I noticed it," he answered. + +"She has asked about him once or twice since we got back to town, and +when she reads about the starting of this new work of his at Stepney she +will certainly write to him." + +"You mean--" + +"I mean that she has sent Sydney to the right-about this time in earnest. +She is a queer girl, reticent in a way, although she seems such a +chatterbox, and I am sure she thinks about him." + +Lord Arranmore laughed a little hardly. + +"Well," he said, "I am the last person to be consulted about anything of +this sort. If he keeps up his present attitude and declines to receive +anything from me, his income until my death will be only two or three +thousand a year. He might marry on that down in Stepney, but not in +this part of the world.'' + +"Sybil has nine hundred a year," Lady Caroom said, "but it would not be +a matter of money at all. I should not allow Sybil to marry any one +concerning whose position in the world there was the least mystery. +She might marry Lord Kingston of Ross, but never Mr. Kingston Brooks." + +"Has--Mr. Brooks given any special signs of devotion?" Lord Arranmore +asked. + +"Not since they were at Enton. I dare say he has never even thought of +her since. Still, it was a contingency which occurred to me." + +"He is a young man of excellent principles," Lord Arranmore said, dryly, +"taking life as seriously as you please, and I should imagine is too +well balanced to make anything but a very safe husband. If he comes to +me, if he will accept it without coming to me even, he can have another +ten thousand a year and Enton." + +"You are generous," she murmured. + +"Generous! My houses and my money are a weariness to me. I cannot live +in the former, and I cannot spend the latter. I am a man really of +simple tastes. Besides, there is no glory now in spending money. One +can so easily be outdone by one's grocer, or one of those marvellous +Americans." + +"Yet I thought I read of you last week as giving nine hundred pounds for +some unknown tapestry at Christie's." + +"But that is not extravagance," he protested. "That is not even +spending money. It is exchanging one investment for another. The +purple colouring of that tapestry is marvellous. The next generation +will esteem it priceless." + +"You must go?" she asked, for he had risen. + +"I have stayed long enough," he answered. "In another five minutes you +will yawn, and mine would have been a wasted visit. I should like to +time my visits always so that the five minutes which I might have stayed +seem to you the most desirable five minutes of the whole time." + +"You are an epicurean and a schemer," she declared. "I am afraid of +you." + + * * * * * + +He bought an evening paper on his way to St. James's Square, and +leaning back in his brougham, glanced it carelessly through. Just as he +was throwing it aside a small paragraph at the bottom of the page caught +his attention. + +A NOVEL PHILANTHROPIC DEPARTURE. + +THE FIRST BUREAU OPENED TO-DAY. + +INTERVIEW WITH MR. KINGSTON BROOKS. + +He folded the paper out, and read through every line carefully. A few +minutes after his arrival home he re-issued from the house in a bowler +hat and a long, loose overcoat. He took the Metropolitan and an omnibus +to Stepney, and read the paragraph through again. Soon he found himself +opposite the address given. + +He recognized it with a little start. It had once been a mission hall, +then a furniture shop, and later on had been empty for years. It was +brilliantly lit up, and he pressed forward and peered through the +window. Inside the place was packed. Brooks and a dozen or so others +were sitting on a sort of slightly-raised platform at the end of the +room, with a desk in front of each of them. Lord Arranmore pulled his +hat over his eyes and forced his way just inside. Almost as he entered +Brooks rose to his feet. + +"Look here," he said, "you all come up asking the same question and +wasting my time answering you all severally. You want to know what this +place means. Well, if you'll stay just where you are for a minute, I'll +tell you all together, and save time." + +"Hear, hear, guv'nor," said a bibulous old costermonger, encouragingly. +"Let's hear all about it." + +"So you shall," Brooks said. "Now listen. I dare say there are a good +many of you who go up in the West End sometimes, and see those big +houses and the way people spend their money there, who come back to your +own houses here, and think that things aren't exactly dealt out square. +Isn't that so?" + +There was a hearty and unanimous assent. + +"Well," Brooks continued, "it may surprise you to hear that a few of us +who have a little money up there have come to the same conclusion. We'd +like to do our little bit towards squaring things up. It may not be +much, but lots more may come of it." + +A modified but a fairly cordial assent. + +"We haven't money to give away--not much of it, at any rate," Brooks +continued. + +"More bloomin' tracks," the costermonger interrupted, and spat upon the +floor. "Fair sickens me, it does." + +"As for tracts," Brooks continued, calmly, "I don't think I've ever read +one in my life, and I don't want to. We haven't such a thing in the +place, and I shouldn't know where to go for them, and though that +gentleman down there with a herring sticking out of his pocket seems to +have done himself pretty well already, I'd rather stand him a glass of +beer than offer him such a thing." + +A roar of laughter, during which a wag in the crowd quietly picked the +costermonger's pocket of the fish with a deftness born of much practice, +and sent it flying over the room. It was promptly returned, and found a +devious way back to its owner in a somewhat dusty and mauled condition. + +"There is just one thing we have to ask for and insist upon," Brooks +continued. "When you come to us for help, tell us the truth. If you've +been drunk all the week and haven't earned any money, well, we may help +you out with a Sunday dinner. If you've been in prison and won't mind +owning up to it, we shan't send you away for that reason. We want your +women to come and bring us your children, that we can have a look at +them, tell us how much you all make a week between you, and what you +need most to make you a bit more comfortable. And we want your husbands +to come and tell us where they work, and what rent they pay, and if +they haven't any work, and can't get it, we'll see what we can do. I +tell you I don't care to start with whether you're sober and +industrious, or idle, or drunkards. We'll give any one a leg-up if we +can. I don't say we shall keep that up always, because of course we +shan't. But we'll give any one a fair chance. Now do you want to ask +any questions?" + +A pallid but truculent-looking young man pushed himself to the front. + +"'Ere, guv'nor!" he said. "Supposing yer was to stand me a coat--I +ain't 'ad one for two months--should I 'ave to come 'ere on a Sunday and +sing bloomin' hymns?" + +"If you did," Brooks answered him, "you'd do it by yourself, and you'd +stand a fair chance of being run out. There's going to be no preaching +or hymn-singing here. Those sorts of things are very well in their way, +but they've nothing to do with this show. I'm not sure whether we shall +open on Sundays or not. If we do it will be only for the ordinary +business. Now let's get to work." + +"Sounds a bit of orl right, and no mistake," the young man remarked, +turning round to the crowd. "I'm going to stop and 'ave a go for that +coat." + +A young man in a bright scarlet jersey pushed himself to the front, +followed by a little volley of chaff, more or less good-natured. + +"There's Salvation Joe wants a new trombone." + +"Christian Sall's blown a hole in the old one, eh, Joe?" + +Breathless he reached Brooks' side. The sweat stood out in beads upon +his forehead. He seemed not to hear a word that was said amongst the +crowd. Brooks smiled at him good-humouredly. "Well, sir," he said, +"what can I do for you?" + +"I happened in, sir, out of curiosity," the young man said, in a strange +nasal twang, the heritage of years of outdoor preaching; "I hoped to +hear of one more good work begun in this den of iniquity and to clasp +hands with another brother in God." + +"Glad to see you," Brooks said. "You'll remember we're busy." + +"The message of God," the young man answered, "must be spoken at all +times." + +"Oh, chuck 'im out!" cried the disgusted costermonger, spitting upon +the floor. "That sort o' stuff fair sickens me." + +The young man continued as though he had not heard. + +"Such charity as you are offering," he cried, "is corruption. You are +going to dispense things for their carnal welfare, and you do nothing +for their immortal souls. You will not let them even shout their thanks +to God. You will fill their stomachs and leave their souls hungry." + +The costermonger waved a wonderful red handkerchief, and spat once more +on the floor. Brooks laid his hand upon the young man's shoulder. + +"Look here, my young friend," he said, "you're talking rot. Men and +women who live down here in wretchedness, and who are fighting every +moment of their time to hang on to life, don't want to be talked to +about their souls. They need a leg-up in the world, and we've come to +try and give it to them. We're here as friends, not preachers. We'll +leave you to look after their souls. You people who've tried to make +your religion the pill to go with your charity have done more harm in +the world than you know of." + +The young man was on fire to speak, but he had no chance. They hustled +him out good-naturedly except that the costermonger, running him down +the room, took his cap from his head and sent it spinning across the +road. Lord Arranmore left the hall at the same time, and turned +homewards, walking like a man in a dream. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +BROOKS AND HIS MISSIONS + +"Now then, please," Brooks said, dipping his pen in the ink. + +A lady of ample proportions, who had been standing since the +commencement of the proceedings with her hand tightly grasping the leg +of Brooks' table, gave a final shove of discomfiture to a meek-faced +girl whom she had suspected of an attempt to supersede her, and +presented herself before the desk. + +"I'm first," she declared, firmly; "been 'ere for four mortal hours." + +"What is your name, please?" Brooks asked. + +"Mrs. Robert Jones, No. 4, St. Mary's Court, down Fennell +Street--leastways you go that way from 'ere. I'm a widow woman with +four children, and lost me husband on the railway. What I wants is a +suit of clothes for my Tommy, he's five-and-'arf, and stout for his +years, and a pair of boots for Selina Ann. And I'm not a saying," she +continued, blandly, "as me having waited 'ere so long, and this being a +sort of opening ceremony, as a pound of tea for myself wouldn't be a +welcome and reasonable gift. And if the suit," she concluded, +breathlessly, "has double-seated breeches so much the better." + +Brooks maintained the most perfect composure, although conscious of a +suppressed titter from behind. He commenced to write rapidly in his +book, and Mrs. Jones, drawing her shawl about her, looked around +complacently. Suddenly she caught the ripple of mirth, which some of +Brooks' helpers were powerless to control. Her face darkened. + +"Which is little enough to ask for," she declared, truculently, +"considering as it's four mortal hours since I first laid hold of the +leg of that table, and neither bite nor sup have I had since, it not +being my habit," she continued, slowly, and staring intently at the hang +of her neighbour's skirt, "to carry bottles in my pocket." + +Brooks looked up. + +"Thank you, Mrs. Jones," he said. "I have entered your name and +address, and I hope we shall see you again soon. This young lady," he +indicated Mary, "will take you over to our clothes department, and if we +haven't anything to fit Tommy you must come again on Wednesday, when we +shall have a larger supply." + +"I'll take the nearest you've got to-day," she decided, promptly. "Wot +about the tea?" + +"We shall be glad to ask you to accept a small packet," Brooks answered. +"By the bye, have you a pension from the railway company?" + +"Not a penny, sir," she declared, "and a burning shame it is." + +"We must see into it," Brooks said. "You see that gentleman behind me?" + +"Him with the squint?" she asked, doubtfully. + +Brooks bent over his book. + +"Mr. Fellows, his name is," he said. "He is one of our helpers here, +and he is a lawyer. You can tell him all about it, and if we think you +have a claim we will try and see what we can do for you. Now, if you +please, we must get on. Come in any time, Mrs. Jones, and talk to us. +Some one is, always here. What is your name, please?" + +"Amy Hardinge!" + +There was a howl of derision from the rear. The girl, pallid, with +large dark eyes, a somewhat tawdry hat and torn skirt, turned angrily +around. + +"Who yer shouting at, eh? There ain't so many of yer as knows yer own +names, I dir say, and 'Ardinge's as good as any other. Leave a body be, +won't yer?" + +She turned round to Brooks, and disclosed a most alarming rent in her +gown. + +"Look 'ere, guv'nor," she said, "that's my name, and I 'as a back room +behind old Connel's fish-shop next door but one to 'ere. If yer want to +give away things to them as wants 'em, wot price a new skirt 'ere, eh?" + +A woman from the rear leaned over to Brooks. + +"The 'ussy," she said. "Don't you take no notice of 'er, sir. We all +knows 'er--and precious little good there is ter know." + +Miss Hardinge was not unreasonably annoyed. She turned round with +flashing eyes and belligerent attitude. + +"Who the 'ell asked you anything?" she exclaimed. "Can't yer keep your +bloomin' mouths closed?" + +A pale-faced little man pushed his way through the throng. He was +dressed in a semi-clerical garb, and he tapped Brooks on the shoulder. + +"Can you favour me with one moment's private conversation, sir?" he +said. "My name is John Deeling, and I am a minister of the Gospel. The +Mission House in Fennell Street is my special charge." + +"Glad to know you, Mr. Deeling," Brooks answered, "but I can't spare +any time for private conversation now. Can't you speak to me here?" + +Mr. Deeling looked doubtfully at the girl who stood still before the +desk, silent, but breathing hard. A sullen shade had fallen upon her +face. She looked like a creature at bay. + +"It is concerning-this unfortunate young person." + +"I can assure you," Brooks said, dipping his pen in the ink, "that no +recommendation is necessary. I shall do what I can for her." + +"You misapprehend me, sir," Mr. Deeling said, with some solemnity. "I +regret to say that no recommendation is possible. That young person is +outside the pale of all Christian help. I regret to speak so plainly +before ladies, sir, but she is a notorious character, a hardened and +incurable prostitute." + +Brooks looked at him for a moment fixedly. + +"Did I understand you to say, sir, that you were a minister of the +Gospel?" he asked. + +"Certainly! I am well known in the neighbourhood." + +"Then if you take my advice," Brooks said, sternly, "you will take off +those garments and break stones upon the street. It is to help such +unfortunate and cruelly ill-used young women as this that I and my +friends have come here. Be off, sir. Miss Hardinge, this young lady +will take you to our clothes store in the inner room there. I hope you +will permit us to be of some further use to you later on." + +The girl, half dazed, passed away. Mr. Deeling, his face red with +anger, turned towards the door. + +"You may call it a Christian deed, sir," he exclaimed, angrily, "to +encourage vice of the worst description. We shall see what the bishop, +what the Press, have to say about it." + +"I don't care a snap of the fingers what you, or the bishop, or time +Press have to say," Brooks rejoined, equably; "but lest there should be +those here who agree with your point of view, let them hear this from me +at once, to prevent misunderstanding. We are here to help to the best +of our ability all who need help, whatsoever their characters. They are +equally welcome to what we have to offer, whether they be thieves, or +prostitutes, or drunkards, or respectable men and women. But if I were +asked what really brought me here, for what class of people in the world +my sympathy and the sympathies of my friends have been most warmly +kindled, I should say, for such as that young woman who has just +presented herself here. If she asks for them, she will have from us +food and clothes and the use of our baths and reading-rooms whenever she +chooses, and I will guarantee that not one of my women friends here who +come in contact with her will ask a single question as to her mode of +life, until she invites their confidence. If you think that she is +responsible for her present state, you and I differ--if you think that +one shadow of blame rests upon her, we differ again. And if there are +any more like her in the room, let them come out, and they shall have +all that they ask for, that it is within our power to give." + +"Hear, hear, guv'nor!" + +"That's ginger for 'im." + +"Out of this, old white choker. There's beans for you." + +They let him pass through. On the threshold he turned and faced Brooks +again. + +"At least," he said, "I can promise you this. God's blessing will never +be upon your work. I doubt whether you will be allowed to continue it +in this Christian country." + +Brooks rose to his feet. + +"Mr. Deeling," he said, "you and your mission system of work amongst +the poor have been fighting a losing battle in this country for fifty +years and more. A Christian country you call it. Go outside in the +streets. Look north and south, east and west, look at the people, look +at their children, look at their homes. Is there one shadow of +improvement in this labyrinth of horrors year by year, decade by decade? +You know in your heart that there is none. Therefore if new means be +chosen, do not condemn them too rashly. Your mission houses, many of +them, have been nothing but breeding-places for hypocrisy. It is time +the old order was changed. Now, sir, you are next. What can we do for +you?" + +A weary-looking man with hollow eyes and nervously-twitching fingers +found himself pushed before the desk. He seemed at first embarrassed +and half dazed. Brooks waited without any sign of impatience. When at +last he spoke, it was without the slightest trace of any Cockney accent. + +"I--I beg your pardon, sir! I ought not perhaps to intrude here, but I +don't know who needs help more than I do." + +"He's orl right, sir," sung out the costermonger. "He is a bit queer in +the 'ead, but he's a scholar, and fair on his uppers. Speak up, Joe." + +"You see, my friends are willing to give me a character, sir," the man +remarked, with a ghost of a smile. "My name is Edward Owston. I was +clerk at a large drapery firm, Messrs. Appleby, Sons, and Dawson, in +St. Paul's Churchyard, for fourteen years. I have a verified character +from them. They were obliged to cult down their staff, owing to foreign +competition, and--I have never succeeded--in obtaining another +situation. There is nothing against me, sir. I would have worked for +fifteen shillings a week. I walked the streets till my boots were worn +through and my clothes hung around me like rags. It was bad luck at +first--afterwards it was my clothes. I have been selling matches for a +month it has brought me in two shillings a week." + +"How old are you?" Brooks asked. "Thirty-four, sir." Brooks nearly +dropped his pen. + +"What?" he exclaimed. + +"Thirty-four, sir. It is four years since I lost my situation." + +The man's hair was grey, a little stubbly grey beard was jutting out +from his chin. His eyes were almost lost in deep hollows. Brooks felt +a lump in his throat, and for a moment pretended to be writing busily. +Then he looked up. + +"We shall give you a fresh start in life, Edward Owston," he said. +"Follow this gentleman at my left. He will find you clothes and food. +To-morrow you will go to a cottage which belongs to us at Hastings for +one month. Afterwards, if your story is true, we shall find you a +suitable situation--if it is partially true, we shall still find you +something to do. If it is altogether false we cannot help you, for +absolute truth in answering our questions is the only condition we +impose." The man never uttered a word. He went out leaning upon the arm +of one of Brooks' assistants. Another, who was a doctor, after a glance +into the man's face, followed them. When he returned, after about +twenty minutes' absence, he leaned forward and whispered in Brooks' ear +"You'll never have to find a situation for that poor fellow. A month's +about all he's good for." Brooks looked round shocked. "What is +it--drink?" he asked. The doctor shook his head. + +"Not a trace of it. Starvation and exhaustion. If I hadn't been with +him just now he'd have been dead before this. He fainted away." + +Brooks half closed his eyes. + +"It is horrible!" he murmured. + +The costermonger was next. Brooks looked around the room and at the +clock. + +"Look here," he said. "If I sit here till tomorrow I can't possibly +attend to all of you. I tell you what I'll do. If you others will give +place to those whose cases are really urgent, I'll be here at seven +to-morrow morning till seven at night, and the next day too, if +necessary. It's no good deputing any one else to tell me, because +however many branches we open--and I hope we shall open a great many--I +mean to manage this one myself, and I must know you all personally. +Now are you all agreeable?" + +"I am for one," declared the costermonger, moving away from before the +desk. "I ain't in no 'urry. I've 'ad a bit o' bad luck wi' my barrer, +all owing to a plaguing drunken old omnibus-driver, and horl I want is a +bit o' help towards the security. Josh Auk wants it before he'll let me +out a new one. Tomorrow's horl right for me." + +"Well, I expect we'll manage that," Brooks remarked. "Now where are the +urgent cases?" + +One by one they were elbowed forward. Brooks' pen flew across the +paper. It was midnight even then before they had finished. Brooks and +Mary Scott left together. They were both too exhausted for words. + +As they crossed the street Mary suddenly touched his arm. + +"Look!" she whispered. + +A girl was leaning up against the wall, her face buried in her hands, +sobbing bitterly. They both watched her for a moment. It was Amy +Hardinge. + +"I will go and speak to her," Mary whispered. + +Brooks drew her away. + +"Not one word, even of advice," he said. "Let us keep to our +principles. The end will be surer." + +They turned the corner of the street. Above the shouting of an angry +woman and the crazy song of a drunken man the girl's sobs still lingered +in their ears. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MR. BULLSOM IS STAGGERED + +Mr. Bullsom looked up from his letters With an air of satisfaction. + +"Company to dinner, Mrs. Bullsom!" he declared. "Some more of your +silly old directors, I suppose," said Selina, discontentedly. "What a +nuisance they are." + +Mr. Bullsom frowned. + +"My silly old directors, as you call 'em," he answered, "may not be +exactly up to your idea of refinement, but I wouldn't call 'em names if +I were you. They've made me one of the richest men in Medchester." + +"A lot we get out of it," Louise grunted, discontentedly. + +"You get as much as you deserve," Mr. Bullsom retorted. "Besides, +you're so plaguing impatient. You don't hear your mother talk like +that." + +Selina whispered something under her breath which Mr. Bullsom, if he +heard, chose to ignore. + +"I've explained to you all before," he continued, "that up to the end of +last year we've been holding the entire property--over a million pounds' +worth, between five of us. Our time's come now. Now, look here--I'll +listen to what you've got to say--all of you. Supposing I've made up my +mind to launch out. How do you want to do it? You first, mother." + +Mrs. Bullsom looked worried. + +"My dear Peter," she said, "I think we're very comfortable as we are. A +larger household means more care, and a man-servant about the place is a +thing I could never abide. If you felt like taking sittings at Mr. +Thompson's as well as our own chapel, so that we could go there when we +felt we needed a change, I think I should like it sometimes. But it +seems a waste of good money with Sundays only coming once in seven +days." + +Mr. Bullsom shook with good-humoured laughter. + +"Mother, mother," he said, "we shall never smarten you up, shall we, +girls? Now, what do you say, Selina?" + +"I should like a country house quite ten on fifteen miles away from +here, lots of horses and carriages, and a house in town for the season," +Selina declared, boldly. + +"And you, Louise?" + +"I should like what Selina has said." + +Mr. Bullsom looked a little grave. + +"The house in London," he said, "you shall have, whether I buy it or +only hire it for a few months at a time. If we haven't friends up +there, there are always the theatres and music-halls, and lots going on. +But a country house is a bit different. I thought of building a place +up at Nicholson's Corner, where the trains stop. The land belongs to +me, and there's room for the biggest house in Medchester." + +Selina tossed her head. + +"Of course," she said, "if we have to spend all our lives in this +hateful suburb it doesn't much matter whether you stay here on build +another house, no one will come to see us. We shall never get to know +anybody." + +"And supposing you go out into the country," Mr. Bullsom argued. "How +do you know that you will make friends there?" + +"People must call," Selina answered, "if you subscribe to the hounds, +and you must get made a magistrate." + +"We have lived here for a good many years," Mr. Bullsom said, "and +there are very superior people living almost at our doors whom even you +girls don't know to bow to." + +Selina tossed her head. + +"Superior, you call them, do you? A silly stuck-up lot, I think. They +form themselves into little sets, and if you don't belong, they treat +you as though you had small-pox." + +"The men are all pleasant enough," Mr. Bullsom remarked. "I meet them +in the trains and in business, and they're always glad enough to pass +the time o' day." + +"Oh, the men are all right," Selina answered. "It's easy enough to know +them. Mr. Wensome trod on my dress the other day, and apologized as +though he'd torn it off my back, and the next day he gave me his seat in +the car. I always acknowledge him, and he's glad enough to come and +talk, but if his wife's with him, she looks straight ahead as though +every one else in the car were mummies." + +Mr. Bullsom cut the end of a cigar thoughtfully, and motioned Louise to +get him a light. + +"You see, your mother and I are getting on in life," he said, "and it's +a great thing to ask us to settle down in a place where there's no +slipping off down to the club in the evening, and no chance of a friend +dropping in for a chat. We've got to an age when we need some one to +talk to. I ain't going to say that a big house in the country isn't a +nice thing to have, and the gardens and that would be first-class. But +it's a big move, and it ain't to be decided about all in a hurry." + +"Why, father, there's the shooting," Selina exclaimed. "You're fond of +that, and men will go anywhere for really good shooting, and make their +wives go, too. If you could get a place with plenty of it, and a +fox-covert or two on the estate, I'm perfectly certain we should be all +right." + +Mr. Bullsom looked still a little doubtful. + +"That's all very well," he said, "but I don't want to bribe people into +my house with shooting and good cooking, and nursing their blooming +foxes. That ain't my idea of making friends." + +"It's only breaking the ice-just at first," Selina argued. "Afterwards +I'm sure you'd find them friendly enough." + + +"I tell you what I shall do," Mr. Bullsom said, deliberately; "I shall +consult the friend I've got coming to dinner to-night." + +Selina smiled contemptuously. + +"Pshaw!" she exclaimed. "What do any of them know about such things?" + +"You don't know who it is," Mr. Bullsom replied, mysteriously. + +The girls turned towards him almost simultaneously. + +"Is it Mr. Brooks?" + +Mr. Bullsom nodded. Selina flushed with pleasure and tried to look +unconscious. + +"Only the day before yesterday," Mr. Bullsom said, "as chairman of the +committee, I had the pleasure of forwarding to Brooks a formal +invitation to become the parliamentary candidate for the borough. He +writes to me by return to say that he will be here this afternoon, as he +wishes to see me personally." + +"I must say he hasn't lost much time," Louise remarked, smiling across +at Selina. + +Mr. Bullsom grunted. + +"I don't see how he could do much less," he said. "After all, though +every one admits that he's a clever young chap and uncommonly +conscientious, he's not well known generally, and he hasn't the position +in the town or anywhere which people generally look for in a +parliamentary candidate. I may tell you, girls, and you, mother, that +he was selected solely on my unqualified support and my casting vote." + +"I hope," Mrs. Bullsom said, "that he will be properly grateful." + +"I'm sure it's very good of you, pa," Selina declared, affably. She +liked the idea of Brooks owing so much to her father. + +"There's no young man," Mr. Bullsom said, "whom I like so much or think +so much of as Mr. Brooks. If I'd a son like that I'd be a proud man. +And as we're here all alone, just the family, as it were, I'll go on to +say this," Mr. Bullsom continued, his right thumb finding its way to +the armhole of his waistcoat. "I'm going to drop a hint at the first +opportunity I get, quite casually, that whichever of you girls gets +married first gets a cheque from me for one hundred thousand pounds." + +Even Selina was staggered. Mrs. Bullsom was positively frightened. + +"Mr. Bullsom!" she said. "Peter, you ain't got as much as that? Don't +tell me!" + +"I am worth to-day," Mr. Bullsom said, solemnly, "at least five hundred +thousand pounds." + +"Peter," Mrs. Bullsom gasped, "has it been come by honest?" + +Mr. Bullsom smiled in a superior way. + +"I made it," he answered, "by locking up forty thousand, more than half +of what I was worth, for five years. But I knew what I was about, and +so did the others. Mason made nearly as much as I did." + +Selina looked at her father with a new respect. He rose and brushed the +ashes of his cigar from his waistcoat. + +"Now I'm off," he declared. "Brooks and I will be back about seven, and +I shall try and get him to sleep here. Fix yourselves up quiet and +ladylike, you girls. Good-bye, mother." + + * * * * * + +"We have about an hour before dinner," Mr. Bullsom remarked, sinking +into his most comfortable chair and lighting a cigar. "Just time for a +comfortable chat. You'll smoke, Brooks, won't you?" + +Brooks excused himself, and remained standing upon the hearthrug, his +elbow upon the mantelpiece. He hated this explanation he had to make. +However, it was no good in beating about the bush. + +"I am going to surprise you very much, Mr. Bullsom," he began. + +Mr. Bullsom took the cigar from his mouth and looked up with wide-open +eyes. He had been preparing graciously to wave away a torrent of +thanks. + +"I am going to surprise you very much," Brooks repeated. "I cannot +accept this magnificent offer of yours. I cannot express my gratitude +sufficiently to you, or to the committee. Nothing would have made me +happier than to have been able to accept it. But I am absolutely +powerless." + +"You don't funk it?" Mr. Bullsom asked. + +"Not I. The fact is, there are circumstances connected with myself which +make it inadvisable for me to seek any public position at present." + +Mr. Bullsom's first sensations of astonishment were augmented into +stupefaction. He was scarcely capable of speech. He found himself +wondering idly how heinous a crime a man must commit to be branded +ineligible. + +"To explain this to you," Brooks continued, "I am bound to tell you +something which is only known to two people in the country. The Marquis +of Arranmore is my father." + +Mr. Bullsom dropped his cigar from between his fingers, and it lay for +a moment smouldering upon the carpet. His face was a picture of blank +and hopeless astonishment. + +"God bless my soul!" he exclaimed, faintly. "You mean that you--you, +Kingston Brooks, the lawyer, are Lord Arranmore's son?" + +Brooks nodded. + +"Yes! It's not a pleasant story. My father deserted my mother when I +was a child, and she died in his absence. A few months ago, Lord +Arranmore, in a leisurely sort of way, thought well to find me out, and +after treating me as an acquaintance for some time--a sort of +probationary period, I suppose--he told me the truth. That is the +reason of my resigning from the firm of Morrison and Brooks almost as +soon as the partnership deed was signed. I went to see Mr. Ascough and +told him about your offer, and he, of course, explained the position to +me." + +"But,"--Mr. Bullsom paused as though striving to straighten out the +matter in his own mind, "but if you are Lord Arranmore's son there is no +secret about it, is there? Why do you still call yourself Mr. Brooks?" + +Mr. Bullsom, whose powers of observation were not remarkably acute, +looking steadily into his visitor's face, saw there some signs of a +certain change which others had noticed and commented upon during the +last few months--a hardening of expression and a slight contraction of +the mouth. For Brooks had spent many sleepless nights pondering upon +this new problem which had come into his life. + +"I do not feel inclined," he said, quietly, "for many reasons, to accept +the olive-branch which it has pleased my father to hold out to me after +all these years. I have still some faint recollections of the close of +my mother's life--hastened, I am sure, by anxiety and sorrow on his +account. I remember my own bringing up, the loneliness of it. I +remember many things which Lord Arranmore would like me now to forget. +Then, too, my father and I are as far apart as the poles. He has not +the least sympathy with my pursuits or the things which I find worth +doing in life. There are other reasons which I need not trouble you +with. It is sufficient that for the present I prefer to remain Mr. +Brooks, and to lead my own life." + +"But--you won't be offended, but I want to understand. The thing seems +such a muddle to me. You've given up your practice--how do you mean to +live?" + +"There is an income which comes to me from the Manor of Kingston," +Brooks answered, "settled on the eldest sons of the Arranmore peerage, +with which my father has nothing to do. This alone is comparative +wealth, and there are accumulations also." + +"It don't seem natural," Mr. Bullsom said. "If you'll excuse my saying +so, it don't sound like common-sense. You can live on what terms you +please with your father, but you ought to let people know who you are. +Great Scott," he added, with a little chuckle, "what will Julia and the +girls say? + +"You will understand, Mr. Bullsom," Brooks said, hastily, "that I trust +you to preserve my confidence in this matter. I have told you because +I wanted you to understand why I could not accept this invitation to +contest the borough, also because you were one of my best friends when I +was here. But you are the only person to whom I have told my secret." + +Mr. Bullsom sighed. It would have been such a delightful disclosure. + +"As you wish, of course," he said. "But my it don't seem possible! +Lord Arranmore's son--the Marquis of Arranmore! Gee whiz!" + +"Some day, of course," Brooks said, "it must come out. But I don't want +it to be yet awhile. If that clock is right hadn't I better be going +up-stairs?" + +Mr. Bullsom nodded. + +"If you'll come with me," he said, "I'll show you your room." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +GHOSTS + +Brooks, relieved that his explanation with Mr. Bullsom was over, was +sufficiently entertaining at dinner-time. He sat between Selina and +Louise, and made himself agreeable to both. Mr. Bullsom for half the +time was curiously abstracted, and for the remainder almost boisterous. +Every now and then he found himself staring at Brooks as though at some +natural curiosity. His behaviour was so singular that Selina commented +upon it. + +"One would think, papa, that you and Mr. Brooks had been quarrelling," +she remarked, tartly. "You seem quite odd to-night." + +Mr. Bullsom raised his glass. He had lately improved his cellar. + +"Drink your health, Brooks," he said, looking towards him. "We had an +interesting chat, but we didn't get quarrelling, did we?" + +"Nor are we ever likely to," Brooks answered, smiling. "You know, Miss +Bullsom, your father was my first client of any importance, and I shan't +forget how glad I was to get his cheque." + +"I'm very pleased that he was useful to you," Selina answered, +impressively. "Will you tell me something that we want to know very +much?" + +"Certainly!" + +"Are you really not coming back to Medchester to live?" + +Brooks shook his head. + +"No. I am settling down in London. I have found some work there I +like." + +"Then are you the Mr. Brooks who has started what the Daily Courier +calls a 'Whiteby's Charity Scheme' in the East End?" + +"Quite true, Miss Bullsom. And your cousin is helping me." + +Selina raised her eyebrows. + +"Dear me," she said, "I had no idea that Many had time to spare for that +sort of thing, had you, father? + +"Many can look after herself, and uncommonly well too," Mr. Bullsom +answered. + +"She comes mostly in the evening," Brooks explained, "but she is one of +my most useful helpers." + +"It must be so interesting to do good," Louise said, artlessly. "After +dinner, Mr. Brooks, will you tell us all about it?" + +"It seems so odd that you should care so much for that sort of thing," +Selina remarked. "As a rule it is the frumpy and uninteresting people +who go in for visiting the poor and doing good, isn't it? You seem so +young, and so--oh, I don't think I'd better go on." + +"Please do," Brooks begged. + +"Well, you won't think I was trying to flatter, will you, but I was +going to say, and too clever for that sort of thing." + +Brooks smiled. + +"Perhaps," he said, "the reason that social reform is so urgently needed +in so many ways is for that very reason, Miss Bullsom--that the wrong +sort of person has been going in for it. Looking after the poor has +meant for most people handing out bits of charity on the toasting-fork +of religion. And that sort of thing doesn't tend to bridge over the +gulf, does it?" + +"Toasting-fork!" Selina giggled. "How funny you are, Mr. Brooks." + +"Am I?" he answered, good-humouredly. "Now let me hear what you have +been doing since I saw you in town." + +Selina was immediately grave--not to say scornful. + +"Doing! What do you suppose there is to do here?" she exclaimed, +reproachfully. "We've been sitting still waiting for something to +happen. But--have you said anything to Mr. Brooks yet, papa?" + +Mr. Bullsom shook his head. + +"Haven't had time," he answered. "Brooks had so much to say to me. You +knew all about our land company, Brooks, of course? You did a bit of +conveyancing for us. + +"Of course I did," Brooks answered, "and I told you from the first that +you were going to make a lot of money by it." + +Mr. Bullsom glanced around the room. The two maid-servants were at the +sideboard. + +"Guess how much." + +Brooks shook his head. + +"I never knew your exact share," he said. + +"It's half a million," Mr. Bullsom said, pulling down his waistcoat, +and squaring himself to the table. "Not bad, eh, for a country spec?" + +"It's wonderful," Brooks admitted. "I congratulate you heartily." + +"Thanks," Mr. Bullsom answered. + +"We want papa to buy a house in the country, and go to town for the +season," Selina said. "So long as we can afford it I am dying to get +out of Medchester. It is absolutely the most commercial town I have +ever been in. + +"Your father should stand for Parliament himself," Brooks suggested. + +It is really possible that Mr. Bullsom, being a man governed entirely +by one idea at a time, had never seriously contemplated the possibility +of himself stepping outside the small arena of local politics. It is +certain at any rate that Brooks' words came to him as an inspiration. +He stared for a moment into his glass--then at Brooks. Finally he +banged the table with the flat of his hand. + +"It's an idea!" he exclaimed. "Why not?" + +"Why not, indeed?" Brooks answered. "You'd be a popular candidate for +the borough." + +"I'm chairman of the committee," Mr. Bullsom declared; "I'll propose +myself. I've taken the chair at political dinners and meetings for the +last twenty years. I know the runs, and the people of Medchester know +me. Why not, indeed? Mr. Brooks, sir, you're a genius." + +"You 'ave given him something to think about," Mrs. Bullsom murmured, +amiably. "I'd be willing enough but for the late hours. They never did +agree with Peter--did they? He's always been such a one for his rest." + +Mr. Bullsom's thumbs made their accustomed pilgrimage. + +"In the service of one's country," he said, "one should be prepared to +make sacrifices. The champagne, Amy. Besides, one can always sleep in +the morning." + +Selina and Louise exchanged glances, and Selina, as the elder, gave the +project her languid approval. + +"It would be nice for us in a way," she remarked. "Of course you would +have a house in London then, papa, and being an M.P. you would get +cards for us to a lot of 'at homes' and things. Only I wish you were a +Conservative." + +"A Liberal is much more fashionable than he was," Brooks assured her, +cheerfully. + +"Fashionable! I know the son of a Marquis, a Lord himself, who's a +Liberal, and a good one," Mr. Bullsom remarked, with a wink to Brooks. + +"Well, my dears," Mrs. Bullsom said, making an effort to rise, and +failing at the first attempt, "shall we leave the gentlemen to talk +about it over their wine? + +"Oh, you sit down again, mother," Selina directed. + +"That sort of thing's quite old-fashioned, isn't it, Mr. Brooks? We're +going to stay with you. You can smoke. Ann, bring the cigars." + +Mrs. Bullsom, who was looking forward to a nap in a quiet corner of +the drawing-room, obeyed with resignation written large on her +good-natured, somewhat flushed face. But Mr. Bullsom, who wanted to +revert to the subject which still fascinated him, grunted. + +"Hang these new ideas," he said. "It's you they're after, Mr. Brooks. +As a rule, they're off before I can get near my cigar-box." + +Selina affected a little consciousness, which she felt became her. + +"Such foolishness, papa. You don't believe it, do you, Mr. Brooks?" + +"Am I not to, then?" he asked, looking down upon her with a smile. +Whereupon Selina's consciousness became confusion. + +"How stupid you are," she murmured. "You can believe just what you +like. What are you looking at over in the corner of the room?" + +"Ghosts," he answered. + +Yet very much as those images flitted at that moment through his brain, +so events were really shaping themselves in that bare clean-swept room +into which his eyes had for a moment strayed away. Mary Scott was +there, her long apron damp with soap-suds and her cheeks red with +exertion, for she had just come from bathing twelve youngsters, who, +not being used to the ordeal, had given trouble. There were other of +his helpers too, a dozen of them up to their eyes in work, and a long +string of applicants patiently waiting their turn. The right sort +too--the sort from underneath--pale-faced, hollow-eyed, weary, yet for a +moment stirred from their lethargy of suffering at the prospect of some +passing relief. There was a young woman, hollow-cheeked, thin herself +as a lath, eager for work or chance of work for her husband--that +morning out of hospital, still too delicate to face the night air and +the hot room. He knew shorthand, could keep books, typewrite, a little +slip about his character, but that was all over and done with. A bank +clerk with L90 a year, obliged to wear a silk hat, who marries a +penniless girl on his summer holiday. They must live, both of them, +and the gold passed through his fingers day by day, an endless shower. +The magistrates had declined to sentence him, but the shame--and he was +never strong. Brooks saw the card made out for that little cottage at +Hastings, and enclosed with the railway ticket Owston was picking up +fast there--and smiled faintly. He saw the girl on her breathless way +home with the good news, saw her wet face heaven turned for the first +time for many a month. There were men and women in the world with +hearts then. They were not all puppets of wood and stone, even as those +bank directors. Then, too, she would believe again that there might be +a God. + +Ghosts! They were plentiful enough. There was the skin-dresser--his +fingers still yellow with the dye of the pith. Things were bad in +Bermondsey. The master had gone bankrupt, the American had filched away +his trade. No one could find him work. He was sober enough except at +holiday time and an odd Saturday--a good currier--there might be a +chance for him in the country, but how was he to get there? And in any +case now, how could he? His wife had broken down, lay at home with no +disease that a hospital would take her in for, sinking for want of good +food, worn out with hard work, toiling early and late to get food for +the children until her man should get a job. There was the workhouse, +but it meant separation, perhaps for ever, and they were man and wife, +as much needed the one by the other, perhaps more, as their prototype in +the world of plenty. Again Brooks smiled. He must have seen Flitch, a +capital chap Flitch, making up that parcel in the grocery department and +making an appointment for three days' time. And Menton, too, the young +doctor, as keen on the work as Brooks himself, but paid for his evenings +under protest, overhears the address--why, it was only a yard or two. +He would run back with the man and have a look at his wife. He had some +physic--he felt sure it was just what she wanted. So out into the +street together, and no wonder the yellow-stained fingers that grasped +the string of the parcel shook, and the man felt an odd lump in his +throat, and a wave of thankfulness as he passed a flaring public-house +when half-an-hour ago he had almost plunged madly in to find pluck for +the river--devil's pluck. The woman. Nothing the matter with her but +what rest and good food would cure. Another case for that little +cottage. Lucky there were others being made ready. + +"What sort of ghosts, Mr. Brooks?" Selina asked, a little more sharply. + +He started, and withdrew his eyes at last. + +"Ah, Miss Bullsom," he answered, "just the ghosts we all carry with +us, you know, the ghosts of our thoughts, living and dead, good and +evil." + +"How funny you are, Mr. Brooks," she exclaimed. + + + +CHAPTER X + +A NEW DON QUIXOTE + +Brooks reached London the next evening to find himself famous. The +evening papers, one of which he had purchased en route, were one and all +discussing his new charitable schemes. He found himself held up at once +to ridicule and contempt--praised and blamed almost in the same breath. +The Daily Gazette, in an article entitled "The New Utopia," dubbed him +the "Don Quixote of philanthropy" the St. James's made other remarks +scarcely so flattering. He drove at once to Stepney, and found his +headquarters besieged by a crowd which his little staff of helpers was +wholly unable to cope with, and half-a-dozen reporters waiting to snatch +a word with him. Mary watched his entrance with a little sigh of +relief. + +"I'm so glad you have come," she exclaimed. "It is hard to send these +people away, but do you know, they have come from all parts of London? +Neither Mr. Flitch nor I can make them understand that we can only deal +with cases in the immediate neighbourhood. You must try." + +Brooks stood up at once. + +"I am very sorry," he said, "if there has been any misunderstanding, but +I want you all to remember this. It is impossible for us to deal with +any cases to-night unless you are residents of the immediate +neighbourhood. The list of streets is on the front door. Please do not +present yourselves before any of the desks unless you lodge or live in +one of them." + +There was a murmur of disappointment, and in the background a few +growls. + +"I hope before very long," Brooks continued, "that we shall have a great +many more branches open, and be able to offer help to all of you. But +at present we cannot make any exceptions. Will every one except our +neighbours please help us by leaving the room." + +For the most part he was obeyed, and then one of the reporters touched +him on the shoulder. + +"Good-evening, Mr. Brooks. I am representing the Evening Courier. We +should be glad to know what your ideas are as to the future of this new +departure of yours, and any other information you might cane to give +us. There are some others here, I see, on the same errand. Any +exclusive information you cared to place at my disposal would be much +valued, and we should take especial pains to put your case fairly before +the public." + +Brooks smiled. + +"Really," he said, "it seems as though I were on my defence." + +The reporter took out his pencil. + +"Well, you know," he said, "some of the established charitable +institutions are rather conservative, and they look upon you as an +interloper, and your methods as a little too broad." + +"Well," Brooks said, "if it is to be war between us and the other +charitable institutions you name, I am ready for it, but I cannot talk +to you now. As you see, I have an evening's work before me." + +"When can you spare me half-an-hour, sir?" + +"At midnight--my rooms, in, Jermyn Street." + +The reporter closed his book. + +"I don't wish to waste your time, sir," he answered. "If you are not +going to say anything to the others before then I will go away." + +Brooks nodded. The reporters whispered together. + +"May we stay and watch for a few minutes?" one of them asked. + +Brooks agreed, and went on with his work. Once more the human flotsam +and jetsam, worthy and unworthy, laid bare the sore places in their +lives, sometimes with the smooth tongue of deceit, sometimes with the +unconscious eloquence of suffering long pent up. One by one they found +their way into Brooks' ledgers as cases to be reckoned out and solved. +And meanwhile nearly all of them found some immediate relief, passing +out into the night with footsteps a little less shuffling, and hearts a +little lighter. The night's work was a long one. It was eleven o'clock +before Brooks left his seat with a little gesture of relief and lit a +cigarette. + +"I must go and get something to eat," he said. "Will you come Miss +Scott?" + +She shook her head. + +"I have to make out a list of things we want for my department," she +said. "Last night they were nearly all women here. Don't bother about +me. Mr. Flitch will put me in an omnibus at London Bridge. You must +see those reporters. You've read the evening papers, haven't you?" + +Brooks nodded. + +"Yes. I knew we should have opposition. This isn't even the beginning +of it. It won't hurt us." + +Nevertheless Brooks was anxious to be properly understood, and he talked +for a long time with the reporter, whom he found awaiting him in Jermyn +Street--a pleasant young fellow just back from the war, with the easy +manner and rattling conversation of his order. + +"You ought to call in and have a chat with the chief, Mr. Brooks," he +said. "He'd be delighted to hear your views personally, I'm sure, and +I believe you'd convert him. He's a bit old-fashioned, you know, that +is for a sub--believes in the orthodox societies, and makes a great +point of not encouraging idleness." + +"I'd be glad to some time," Brooks answered. "But I can tell you this. +If we can get the money, and I haven't asked for a penny yet, nothing in +the shape of popular opinion is going to stop us. Idleness and +drunkenness, deceit and filthy-mindedness, and all those vices which I +admit are like a pestilence amongst these people, are sins which we are +responsible for, not them, and, of course, we must suffer to some +extent from them. But we've got to grapple with them. We shall be +taken advantage of, and grossly deceived continually. I know of one or +two cases already. We expect it--count upon it. But in the end we +shall come out on the top. If we are consistent the thing will right +itself." + +"You are a young man to be so interested in philanthropic work, Mr. +Brooks Every one seems to consider philanthropy the pursuit of the old," +Brooks answered. "I don't know why, I am sure." + +"And may I ask if that is a sample of your daily correspondence?" he +asked, pointing to the table. + +Brooks looked at the enormous pile of letters and shook his head. + +"I have never had more than twenty letters at a time in my life," he +answered. "There seems to be almost as many thousands there. It is, I +suppose, a result of the Press booming our modest little show. I can +scarcely feel as grateful as I should like to. Have another pipe, will +you--or a cigar? I think unless there's anything else you'd like to +ask I'd better begin on these." + +"Nothing more, thanks," the pressman answered; "but if I might I'd like +to stay while you open a few. There might be something interesting. If +you'll forgive my remarking it, there seem to be a good many registered +letters. I understood that you had not appealed to the public for +subscriptions." + +"Neither have I," Brooks answered, stretching out his hand. "If there +is money in these it is entirely unsolicited." + +He plunged into a correspondence as various as it was voluminous. There +were letters of abuse, of sympathy, of friendship, of remonstrance, of +reproof. There were offers of help, money, advice, suggestions, and +advertisements. There were small sums of money, and a few larger ones. +He was amused to find that a great many people addressed him as an +infidel--the little mission preacher had certainly been busy, and +everywhere it seemed to be understood that his enterprise was an +anti-Christian one. And finally there was a long packet, marked as +having been delivered by hand, and inside--without a word of any sort, +on a single clue as to its sender--a bank-note for one thousand pounds. + +Brooks passed it over to his companion, who saw the amount with a little +start. + +"A thousand pounds--not even registered--in a plain envelope. And you +have no idea from whom it came? + +"None whatever," Brooks answered. + +The pressman folded it up silently, and passed it back. He looked at +the huge pile of correspondence and at Brooks--his dark thoughtful face +suddenly lit up with a rare gleam of excitement. In his own mind he was +making a thumb-nail sketch of these things. There was material for +one of those broad, suggestive articles which his editor loved. He +wished Brooks good-night. + +"I'm much obliged for all you've told me," he said. "If you don't mind, +I'd like to drop in now and again down at Stepney. I believe that this +is going to be rather a big thing for you." + +Brooks smiled. + +"So do I," he answered. "Come whenever you like." + +Brooks sank into an easy-chair, conscious at last of a more than +ordinary exhaustion. He looked at the pile of newspapers at his feet, +the sea of correspondence on the table--his thoughts travelled back to +the bare, dusty room in Stepney, with its patient, white-faced crowd of +men and women and children. Perhaps, after all, then he had found his +life's work here. If so he need surely regret no longer his lost +political opportunities. Yet in his heart he knew that it had been from +the House of Commons he had meant to force home his schemes. To work +outside had always seemed to him to be labouring under a disadvantage, +to be missing the true and best opportunity of impressing upon the +law-makers of the country their true responsibilities. But of that +there was no longer any hope. Of the House of Lords he thought only +with a cold shiver. No, political life was denied to him. He must do +his best for the furtherance of his work outside. + +He fell asleep to awake in the cold grey of the morning, stiff and +cramped, and cold to the bone. Stamping up and down the room in a +vigorous attempt to restore his lost circulation, he noticed as he +passed the corner of the table a still unopened letter addressed to him +in a familiar handwriting. He took it over to the window, and, glancing +at the faintly-sketched coronet on time back, turned it over and broke +the seal. + +"ST. JAMES'S HOUSE, LONDON. + +"Thursday. + +"MY DEAR BROOKS, + +"I have read with an amusement which I am sure you will not fail to +share, the shower of condemnation, approval, and remonstrance which by +your doings in Stepney you appear to have brought down upon your head. +The religious element especially, you seem to have set by the ears. I +sat within hearing of our premier bishop last night at dinner, and his +speculations with regard to you and your ultimate aims were so amusing +that I passed without noticing it my favourite entree. + +"You will have observed that it is your anonymity which is the weapon of +which your antagonists make most use. Why not dissipate it and confound +them? A Mr. Brooks of unknown antecedents might well be supposed +capable of starting a philanthropic work for his own good; the same +suspicion could never fall on Lord Kingston Ross, a future marquis. You +will notice that I make no appeal to you from any personal motive. I +should suggest that we preserve our present relations without +alteration. But if you care to accept my suggestion I would propose +that you nominate me trustee of your society, and I will give, as a +contribution to its funds, the sum of five thousand pounds." + +Brooks looked down the long street, quiet and strangely unfamiliar in +the dawning light, and for a moment he hesitated. The letter he held in +his hand crushed up into a shapeless ball. It would make things very +easy. And then--a rush of memories. He swung round and sat down at his +desk, drawing paper and ink towards him. + +"DEAR LORD ARRANMORE," he wrote, "I am much obliged to you for the +suggestion contained in your letter, but I regret that its acceptance +would involve the carrying out on my part of certain obligations which I +am not at present prepared to undertake. We will, therefore, if you +please, allow matters to remain on this footing. + +"Yours sincerely, + +"KINGSTON BROOKS." + +Bareheaded he stole out into the street, and breathed freely only when +he heard it drop into the pillar-box. For only he himself knew what +other things went with the rejection of that offer. + +He crept up-stairs to lie down for a while, and 'on the way he laughed +softly to himself. + +"What a fool she would think me!" he muttered. "What a fool I am!" + + + + +PART III + +CHAPTER I + +AN ARISTOCRATIC RECRUIT + +An early spring came with a rush of warm west wind, sunshine, and the +perfume of blossoming flowers. The chestnuts where out at the Park fully +a week before their time, and already through the great waxy buds the +colour of the coming rhododendrons was to be seen in sheltered corners +of the Park. London put out its window boxes, and remembered that it +had, after all, for two short months a place amongst the beautiful +cities of the world. 'Bus conductors begun to whistle, and hansom cab +drivers to wear a bunch of primroses in their coats. Kingston Brooks, +who had just left his doctor, turned into the Park and mingled idly with +the throng of people. + +For the first time for many months he suffered his thoughts to travel +over a wider range than usual. The doctor's words had been sharp and to +the point. He must have instant change--change, if not of scene, at +least of occupation. Scarcely to be wondered at, Brooks thought to +himself, with a faint smile, when he thought of the last twelve months, +full to the brim of strenuous labour, of ceaseless striving within a +herculean task. Well, he was in smoother waters now. He might +withdraw his hand for a while, if necessary. He had gone his way, and +held his own so far against all manner of onslaught. Just then he heard +himself called by name, and, looking up, found himself face to face +with Sybil Caroom. + +"Mr. Brooks! Is it really you, then, at last?" + +He set his teeth hard, but he could not keep the unusual colour from +his cheeks. + +"It is really I, Lady Sybil. How do you do?" + +Sybil was charming in a lilac-coloured dress and hat as fresh and dainty +as her own complexion. She looked straight into his eyes, and told him +that he ought to be ashamed of himself. + +"Oh, it's not the least use your looking as though you were going to +edge away every moment," she declared, laughing. "I am going to keep +you for quite a long time, and make you tell me about everything." + +"In which case, Lady Sybil," her escort remarked, good-humouredly, "you +will perhaps find a better use for me at some future time." + +"How sweet of you," she answered, blandly. "Do you know Mr. Brooks? +Mr. Kingston Brooks, Lord Bertram. Mr. Brooks is a very old friend, +and I have so many questions I want to ask him." + +Lord Bertram, a slim, aristocratic young man, raised his hat, and +glanced with some interest at the other man. + +"The Mr. Kingston Brooks of the East End? Lavvy's friend?" he asked, +politely. + +Brooks smiled. + +"I am afraid," he said, "that I am the person who is being +exposed--isn't that the word? I warn you, Lady Sybil, that I am a +questionable character." + +"I will take the risk," she answered, gaily. + +"I think you may safely do so," Lord Bertram answered, raising his hat. +"Good-morning, Lady Sybil--morning, Mr. Brooks!" + +She led him towards the chairs. + +"I am going to take the risk of your being in an extravagant frame of +mind," she said, "and make you pay for two chains--up here, on the back +now. Now, first of all, do you know that you look shockingly ill?" + +"I have just come from-n my doctor," Brooks answered. "He agrees with +you." + +"I am glad that you have had the sense to go to him," she said. "Tell +me, are you just run down, on is there anything more serious the matter? + +"Nothing serious at all," he answered. "I have had a great deal to do, +and no holiday during the past year, so I suppose I am a little tired." + +"You look like a ghost," she said. "You have been overworking yourself +ridiculously. Now, will you be so good as to tell me why you have +never been to see us?" + +"I have been nowhere," he answered. "My work has claimed my +undivided attention." + +"Nonsense," she answered. "You have been living for a year within a +shilling cab ride of us, and you have not once even called. I really +wonder that I am sitting here with you, as though prepared to forgive +you. Do you know that I have written you three times asking you to come +to tea?" + +He turned a very white face upon her. + +"Won't you understand," he said, "that I have been engrossed in a work +which would admit of no distractions? + +"You could find time to go down to Medchester, and make speeches for +your friend Mr. Bullsom," she answered. + +"That was different. I was deeply indebted to Mr. Bullsom, and anxious +to see him returned. That, too, was work. It is only pleasures which I +have denied myself." + +"That," she remarked, "is the nicest--in fact, the only nice thing you +have said. You have changed since Enton." + +"I have been through a good deal," he said, wearily. + +She shuddered a little. + +"Don't look like that," she exclaimed. "Forgive me, but you made me +think--do you remember that night at Enton, when Lord Arranmore spoke +of his work amongst the poor, how the hopelessness of it began to haunt +him and weigh upon him till he reached the verge of madness. You had +something of that look just now." + +He smiled faintly. + +"Believe me, it was fancy," he answered, earnestly. "Remember, I am a +little out of sorts to-day. I am not discouraged; I have no cause to be +discouraged. A good many of the outside public misunderstand my work, +and Mr. Lavilette thinks I make money out of it. Then, of course, all +the organized charities are against me. But in spite of all I am able +to go on and increase day by day." + +"It is wonderful," she declared. "I read everything in the papers about +you--and I get the monthly reports, for of course I am a subscriber--so +is mother. But--that brings your shameful neglect of us back into my +mind. I wrote to you begging to be allowed to inspect one of your +branches, and all I got back was a polite reply from your secretary to +the effect that the general public--even subscribers--were never allowed +in any of the branches as sightseers, and that all I could see was the +stores and general arrangements, for which he enclosed a view-card." + +"Well," Brooks said, "you don't think that poor people who come to you +for help should be exposed to the casual inspection of visitors who want +to see how it is done, do you? I have always been very particular about +that. We should not allow the Prince of Wales in the room whilst we +were dealing with applicants." + +"Well, you might have written yourself, or come and seen us," Sybil +declared, a little irrelevantly. "Why couldn't I be an occasional +helper?" + +"There is not the slightest reason why you should not," he answered. +"We have seventeen hundred on the books, but we could always do with +more, especially now we are opening so many more branches. But, you +know, we should expect you to come sometimes, and how would Lady Caroom +like that?" She laughed. + +"You know how much mother and I interfere with one another," she +answered. "Besides, I have several friends who are on your list, and +who are sent for now and then--Edie Gresham and Mary Forbrooke." "It is +rough work," he said; "but, of course, if you like, my secretary shall +put your name down, and you will get a card then telling you what week +to come. It will be every afternoon for a week, you know. Then you are +qualified, and we might send for you at any time if we were short." + +"I should come," she said. + +A coach passed by, with its brilliant load of women in bright gowns and +picture hats, and two or three immaculate men. They both looked up, and +followed it with their eyes. + +"Lord Arranmore," Sybil exclaimed, "and that is the Duchess of +Eversleigh with him on the box. It doesn't seem--the same man, does +it?" + +Brooks smiled a little bitterly. + +"The same man," he repeated. "No!" + +They were silent for a few moments. Then Sybil turned towards him with +a little impetuous movement. + +"Come," she said, "let us talk about yourself now. What are you going +to do?" + +"To do?" he repeated, vaguely. "Why--" + +"About your health, of course. You admitted a few minutes ago that you +had been to see your doctor." + +"Why--I suppose I must ease up a little." + +"Of course you must. When will you come and dine quietly with us in +Berkeley Square, and go to the theatre?" + +He shook his head. + +"It is kind of you," he said, "but--" + +"When will you come and have tea with me, then?" + +He set his teeth. He had done his best. + +"Whenever you choose to ask me," he answered, with a sort of dogged +resignation. + +She looked at him half curiously, half tenderly. + +"You are so much changed," she murmured, "since those days at Enton. +You were a boy then, although you were a thoughtful one--now you are a +man, and when you speak like that, an old man. Come, I want the other +Mr. Brooks." + +He sat quite still. Perhaps at that moment of detachment he realized +more keenly than ever the withering nature of this battle through which +he had passed. Indeed, he felt older. Those days at Enton lay very far +back, yet the girl by his side made him feel as though they had been but +yesterday. He glanced at her covertly. Gracious, fresh, and as +beautiful as the spring itself. What demon of mischief had possessed +her that she should, with all her army of admirers, her gay life, her +host of pleasures, still single him out in this way and bring back to +his memory days which he had told himself he had wholly forgotten? She +was not of the world of his adoption, she belonged to the things which +he had forsworn. + +"The other Mr. Brooks," he murmured, "is dead. He has been burned in +the furnace of this last wonderful year. That is why I think--I fear it +is no use your looking for him--and you would not wish to have a +stranger to tea with you." + +"That," she said, "is ingenious, but not convincing. So you will please +come to-morrow at four o'clock. I shall stay in for you. + +"At four o'clock," he repeated, helplessly. + +Lady Caroom waved to them from the path. + +"Sybil, come here at once," she exclaimed, "and bring Mr. Brooks with +you. Dear me, what troublesome people you have been to find. I am very +glad indeed to see you again." + +She looked Brooks in the face as she held his hand, and With a little +start he realized that she knew. + +"You most quixotic of young men," she exclaimed, "come home with us at +once, and explain how you dared to avoid us all this time. What a ghost +you look. I hope it is your conscience. Don't pretend you can't sit +with your back to the horse, but get in there, sir, and--James, the +little seat--and make yourself as comfortable as you can. Home, James! +Upon my word, Mr. Brooks, you look like one of those poor people whom +you have been working for in the slums. If starvation was catching, I +should think that you had caught it. You must try my muffins." + +Sybil caught his eye, and laughed. + +"Mother hasn't altered much, has she?" she asked. + + + +CHAPTER II + +MR. LAVILETTE INTERFERES + +"What is this Kingston Brooks' affair that Lavilette has hold of now?" +yawned a man over his evening papers. "That fellow will get into +trouble if he doesn't mind." + +"Some new sort of charity down in the East End," one of the little group +of club members replied. "Fellow has a lot of branches, and tries to +make 'em a sort of family affair. He gets a pile of subscriptions, and +declines to publish a balance-sheet. Lavilette seems to think there's +something wrong somewhere." + +"Lavilette's such a suspicious beggar," another man remarked. "The +thing seems all right. I know people who are interested in it, who say +it's the most comprehensive and common-sense charity scheme of the day." + +"Why doesn't he pitch into Lavilette, then? Lavilette's awfully +insulting. Brooks the other day inserted an acknowledgment in the +papers of the receipt of one thousand pounds anonymous. You saw what +Lavilette said about it?" + +"No. What?" + +"Oh, he had a little sarcastic paragraph--declined to believe that Brooks +had ever received a thousand pounds anonymously--challenged him to give +the number of the note, and said plainly that he considered it a fraud. +There's been no reply from Brooks." + +"How do you know?" + +"This week's Verity. Here it is!" + +"We have received no reply from Mr. Kingston Brooks up to going to +press with respect to our remark concerning the thousand pounds alleged +to have been received by him from an anonymous giver. We may add that +we scarcely expected it. Yet there is another long list of +acknowledgments of sums received by Mr. Brooks this morning. We are +either the most credulous nation in the world, or there are a good many +people who don't know what to do with their money. We should like to +direct their attention to half-a-dozen excellent and most deserving +charities which we can personally recommend, and whose accounts will +always stand the most vigorous examination." + +"H'm! That's pretty strong," the first speaker remarked. "I should +think that that ought to stay the flow of subscriptions." + +Lord Arranmore, who was standing on the hearthrug smoking a cigarette, +joined languidly in the conversation. + +You think that Brooks ought to take some notice of Lavilette's +impudence, then?" + +"Well, I'm afraid his not doing so looks rather fishy," the first +speaker remarked. "That thousand pounds note must have been a sort of a +myth." + + +"I think not," Lord Arranmore remarked, quietly. "I ought to know, for +I sent it myself," + +Every man straightened himself in his easy-chair. There was a little +thrill of interest. + +"You're joking, Arranmore." + +"Not I! I've sent him three amounts--anonymously." + +"Well, I'd no idea that sort of thing was in your line," one of the men +exclaimed. + +"More it is," Arranmore answered. "Personally, I don't believe in +charity--in any modern application of it at any rate. But this man +Brooks is a decent sort." + +"You know who Brooks is, then?" + +"Certainly. He was my agent for a short time in Medchester." + +Mr. Hennibul, who was one of the men sitting round, doubled his copy of +Verity up and beat the air with it. + +"I knew I'd heard the name," he exclaimed. "Why, I've met him down at +Enton. Nice-looking young fellow." + +Arranmore nodded. + +"Yes. That was Brooks." + +Mr. Hennibul's face beamed. + +"Great Scott, what a haul!" he exclaimed. "Why, you've got old +Lavilette on toast--you've got him for suing damages too. If this is +why Brooks has been hanging back--just to let him go far enough--by +Jove, he's a smart chap." + +"I don't fancy Brooks has any idea of the sort," Lord Arranmore +answered. "All the same I think that Lavilette must be stopped and made +to climb down." + +Curiously enough he met Brooks the same afternoon in Lady Caroom's +drawing-room. + +"This is fortunate," he remarked. "I wished for a few minutes' +conversation with you." + +"I am at your service," Brooks answered, quietly. + +The room was fairly full, so they moved a little on one side. Lord +Arranmore for a moment or two studied his son's face in silence. + +"You show signs of the struggle," he remarked. + +"I have been overworked," Brooks answered. "A week or two's holiday is +all I require--and that I am having. As for the rest," he answered, +looking Lord Arranmore in the face, "I am not discouraged. I am not +even depressed." + +"I congratulate you--upon your zeal." + +"You are very good." + +"I was going to speak to you," Lord Arranmore continued, "concerning the +paragraph in this week's Verity, and these other attacks which you seem +to have provoked." + +Brooks smiled. + +"You too!" he exclaimed. + +"I also!" Lord Arranmore admitted, coolly. "You scarcely see how it +concerns me, of course, but in a remote sense it does." + +"I am afraid that I am a little dense," Brooks remarked. + +"I will not embarrass you with any explanation," Lord Arranmore +remarked. "But all the same I am going to surprise you. Do you know +that I am very much interested in your experiment?" + +Brooks raised his eyebrows. + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes, I am very much interested," Lord Arranmore repeated. "I should +like you to understand that my views as to charity and charitable +matters remain absolutely unaltered. But at the same time I am anxious +that you should test your schemes properly and unhampered by any +pressure from outside. You are all the sooner likely to grow out of +conceit with them. Therefore let me offer you a word of advice. +Publish your accounts, and sue Lavvy for a thousand pounds." + +Brooks was silent for a moment. + +"My own idea," he said, slowly, "was to take no notice of these attacks. +The offices where the financial part of our concern is managed are open +to our subscribers at any time, and the books are there for their +inspection. It is only at the branches where we do not admit visitors." + +"You must remember," Lord Arranmore said, "that these attacks have been +growing steadily during the last few months. It is, of course, no +concern of mine, but if they are left unanswered surely your funds must +suffer." + +"There have been no signs of it up to the present," Brooks answered. +"We have large sums of money come in every day." + +"This worst attack," Lord Arranmore remarked, "only appeared in this +week's Verity. It is bound to have some effect." + +Brooks shrugged his shoulders. + +"I do not fear it," he answered, calmly. "As a matter of fact, however, +I am going to form a council to take the management of the financial +organization. It is getting too large a thing for me with all my other +work. Is there anything else you wished to say to me?" + +The eyes of the two men met for a moment both unflinchingly. Perhaps +they were each searching for something they could not find. + +"There is nothing else. Don't let me detain you." + +Brooks, who was the leaving guest, stepped quietly away, and Lord +Arranmore calmly outstayed all the other callers. + +"Your manners," Lady Caroom told him, as the last of her guests +departed, "are simply hoydenish. Who told you that you might sit out +all my visitors in this bare-faced way?" + +"You, dear lady, or rather your manner," he answered, imperturbably. +"It seemed to me that you were saying all the time, 'Do not desert me! +Do not desert me!' And so I sat tight." + +"An imagination like yours," she declared, "is positively unhealthy. +Arranmore, what an idiot you are. + +"Well?" + +"Oh, you know all about it--and one hears! Are you tired of your life?" + +"Very, very tired of it!" he answered. "Isn't everybody?" + +"Of course not. Neither are you really. It is only a mood. Some day +you will succeed in what you seem trying so hard to do, and then you +will be sorry--and perhaps some others!" + +"If one could believe that," he murmured. + +"Two months ago," she continued, "every one was saying that you had made +up your mind to end your days in the hunting-field. All Melton was +talking about your reckless riding, and your hairbreadth escapes." + +"Both shockingly exaggerated," he said, under his breath. + +Perhaps; but apart from the papers I have seen people who were out and +who have told me that you rode with absolute recklessness, simply and +purely for a fall, and that you deserved to break your neck a dozen +times over. Then there was your week in Paris with Prince Comfrere, and +now your supper-parties are the talk of London." + +"They are justly famed," he answered, gravely, "for you know I brought +home the chef from Voillard's. I am sorry that I cannot ask you to one. + +"Don't be ridiculous, Arranmore. Why do you do these things? Does it +amuse you, give you any satisfaction? + +"Upon my word I don't know," he answered. + +"Then why do you do it?" + +"Because," he said slowly, "there is a shadow which dogs me. I am +always trying to escape--and it is always hard on my heels. You are a +woman, Catherine, and you don't know the suffering of the most +intolerable form of ennui--loneliness." + +"And do you?" she asked, looking at him with softening eyes. + +"Always. It rode with me in the turnkey frill--and sometimes perhaps it +lifted my spurs--why not? And at these suppers you speak of, well, they +are all very gay--it is I only who have bidden them, who reap no profit. +For whosoever may sit there the chair at my side is always empty." + +"You speak sadly," she said, "and yet--" + +"Yet what?" + +"To hear you talk, Arranmore, with any real feeling about anything is +always a relief," she said. "Sometimes you speak and act as though +every emotion which had ever filled your life were dead, as though you +were indeed but the shadow of your former self. Even to know that you +feel pain is better than to believe you void of any feeling whatever." + +"Then you may rest content," he told her quietly, "for I can assure you +that pain and I are old friends and close companions." + +"You have so much, too, which should make you happy--which should keep +you employed and amused," she said, softly. + +"'Employed and amused.'" His eyes flashed upon her with a gleam of +something very much like anger. "It pleases you to mock me!" + +"Indeed no!" she protested. "You must not say such things to me." + +"Then remember," he said, bitterly, "that sympathy from you comes always +very near to mockery. It is you and you alone who can unlock the door +for me. You show me the key--but you will not use it." + +A belated caller straggled in, and Arranmore took his leave. Lady +Caroom for the rest of the afternoon was a little absent. She gave her +visitors cold tea, and seriously imperiled her reputation as a charming +and sympathetic hostess. + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE SINGULAR BEHAVIOUR OF MARY SCOTT + +The looking-glass was, perhaps, a little merciless in that clear north +light, but Mary's sigh as she looked away from it was certainly +unwarranted. For, as a matter of fact, she had improved wonderfully +since her coming to London. A certain angularity of figure had +vanished--the fashionable clothes which Mr. Bullsom had insisted upon +ordering for her did ample justice to her graceful curves and lithe +buoyant figure. The pallor of her cheeks, too, which she had eyed just +now with so much dissatisfaction, was far removed from the pallor of +ill-health; her mouth, which had lost its discontented droop, was full +of pleasant suggestions of humour. She was distinctly a very charming +and attractive young woman--and yet she turned away with a sigh. She +was twenty-seven years old, and she had been unconsciously comparing +herself with a girl of eighteen. + +She drew down one of the blinds and set the tea-tray where she could sit +in the shadow. She was conscious of having dressed with unusual +care--she had pinned a great bunch of fragrant violets in her bosom. +She acknowledged to herself frankly that she was anxious to appear at +her best. For there had come to her, in the midst of her busy life--a +life of strenuous endeavour mingled with many small self-denials--a +certain sense of loneliness--of insufficiency--a new thing to her and +hard to cope with in this great city where friends were few. And last +night, whilst she had been thinking of it, came this note from Brooks +asking if he might come to tea. She had been ashamed of herself ever +since. It was maddening that she should sit waiting for his coming like +a blushing schoolgirl--the colour ready enough to stream into her face +at the sound of his footstep. + +He came at last--a surprise in more ways than one. For he had abandoned +the blue serge and low hat of his daily life, and was attired in frock +coat and silk hat--his tie and collar of a new fashion, even his bearing +altered--at least so it seemed to her jealous observation. He was +certainly looking better. There was colour in his pale cheeks, and his +eyes were bright once more with the joy of life. Her dark eyes took +merciless note of these things, and then found seeing at all a little +difficult. + +"My dear Mary," he exclaimed, cheerfully--he had fallen into the way of +calling her Mary lately "this is delightful of you to be in. Do you +know that I am really holiday-making?" + +"Well," she answered, smiling, "I imagined that you were not on your way +eastwards." + +"Where can I sit? May I move these?" He swept aside a little pile of +newspapers and books, and took possession of the seat which she had +purposely appropriated. "The other chairs are so far off, and you seem +to have chosen a dark corner. Eastwards, no. I have been at the +office all the morning, and we have bought the property in Poplar Grove +and the house in Bermondsey. Now I have finished for the day. Doctor's +orders." + +"If any one has earned a holiday," she said, quietly, "you have. There +is some cake on the table there." + +"Thanks. Well, it was hard work at first. How we stuck at it down at +Stepney, didn't we? Six in the morning till twelve at night. And then +how we rushed ahead. It seems to me that we have been doing nothing but +open branches lately." + +"I wonder," she said, "that you have stood it so well. Why don't you go +away altogether for a time? You have such splendid helpers now. + +"Oh, I'm enjoying myself," he answered, lightly, "and I don't care to be +out of touch with it all." + +"You enjoy contrasts," she remarked. "I saw your name in the paper this +morning as one of Lady Caroom's guests last night." + +He nodded. + +"Yes, Lady Caroom has been awfully good to me, and I seem to have got to +know a lot of pleasant people in an incredulously short time." + +"You are a curious mixture," she said, looking at him thoughtfully. + +"Of what?" he asked, passing his cup for some more tea. + +"Of wonderful self-devotion," she answered, "and a genuine and natural +love of enjoyment. After all, you are only a boy." + +"I fancy," he remarked, smiling, "that my years exceed yours. + +"As a matter of fact they don't," she answered, "but I was not thinking +of years, I was thinking of disposition. You have set going the +greatest charitable scheme of the generation, and yet you are so young, +so very young." + +He laughed a little uneasily. In some vague way he felt that he had +displeased her. + +"I never pretended," he said, "that I did not enjoy life, that I was not +fond of its pleasures. It was only while my work was insecure that I +made a recluse of myself. You, too," he said, "it is time that you +slackened a little. Come, take an evening off and we will dine +somewhere and go to the theatre." How delightful it sounded. She felt +a warm rush of pleasure at the thought. They would want her badly at +Stepney, but "This evening?" she asked. + +"Yes. No, hang it, it can't be this evening. I'm dining with the +Carooms--nor to-morrow evening. Say Thursday evening, will you?" + +Something seemed suddenly to chill her momentary gush of happiness. + +"Well," she said, "I think not just yet. We have several fresh girls, +you know--it is a bad time to be away. Perhaps you will ask me later +on." + +He laughed softly. + +"What a funny girl you are, Mary. You'd really rather stew in that hot +room, I believe, than go anywhere to enjoy yourself. Such women as you +ought to be canonized. You are saints even in this life. What can be +done for you in the next?" + +Mary bit her lip hard, and she bent low over the tea-cups. In another +moment she felt that her self-control must go. Fortunately he drifted +away from the subject. + +"Very soon," he said, "we must all have a serious talk about the future. +The management is getting too big for me. I think there should be a +council elected--something of the sort must be done, and soon." + +"That," she remarked, "is what Mr. Lavilette says, isn't it?" + +He looked at her with twinkling eyes. + +"Oh, you needn't think I'm being scared into it," he answered. "All the +same, Lavvy's right enough. No one man has the right to accept large +subscriptions and not let the public into his confidence." + +"Lavilette doesn't believe in our anonymous subscriptions, does he?" she +asked. + +"No! He's rather impudent about that, isn't he? I suppose I ought +really to set him right. I should have done so before, but he went +about it in such an offensive manner. Well, to go on with what I was +saying. You will come on the council, Mary?" + +"I? Oh, surely not!" + +"You will! And, what is more, I am going to split all the branches up +into divisions, and appoint superintendents and manageresses, at a +reasonable salary. And you," he concluded, "are going to be one of the +latter." + +She shook her head firmly. + +"No! I must remain my own mistress." + +"Why not? I want to allot to you the work where you can do most good. +You know more about it than any one. There is no one half so suitable. +I want you to throw up your other work come into this altogether, be my +right hand, and let me feel that I have one person on the council whom I +can rely upon." + +She was silent for a moment. She leaned back in her chair, but even in +the semi-obscurity the extreme pallor of her face troubled him. + +"You must remember, too," he said, "that the work will not be so hard as +now. Lately you have given us too much of your time. Indeed, I am not +sure that it is not you who need a holiday more than I." + +She raised her eyes. + +"This is--what you came to say to me?" + +"Yes. I was anxious to get your promise." + +There was another short silence. Then she spoke in dull even tones. + +"I must think it over. You want my whole time, and you want to pay me +for it." + +"Yes. It is only reasonable, and we can afford it. I should draw a +salary myself if I had not a little of my own." + +She raised her eyes once more to his mercilessly, and drew a quick +little breath. Yes, it was there written in his face--the blank utter +indifference of good-fellowship. It was all that he had come to ask +her, it was all that he would ever ask her. Suddenly she felt her heart +throbbing in quick short beats-her cheeks burned. They were alone--even +her little maid had gone out. Why was he so miserably indifferent? She +stumbled to her feet, and suddenly stooping down laid her burning cheeks +against his. + +"Kingston," she said, "you are so cruel--and I am so lonely. Can't you +see that I am miserable? Kiss me!" + +Brooks sat petrified, utterly amazed at this self-yielding on the part of +the last woman in this world whom he would ever have thought capable of +anything of the sort. + +"Kiss me--at once." + +He touched her lips timorously. Then she sprang away from him, her +cheeks aflame, her eyes on fire, her hair strangely ruffled. She +pointed to the door. + +"Please go--quickly." + +He picked up his hat. + +"But, Mary! I--" + +"Please!" + +She stamped her foot. + +"But--" + +"I will write. You shall hear from me to-morrow. But if you have any +pity for me at all you will go now--this moment." + +He rose and went. She heard him turn the handle of the door, heard his +footsteps upon the stone stairs outside. + +She counted them idly. One, two, three, four now he was on the next +landing. She heard them again, less distinctly, always less distinctly. +Then silence. She ran to the window. There he was upon the pavement, +now he was crossing the road on his way to the underground station. She +tore at her handkerchief, waved it wildly for a moment--and then +stopped. He was gone--and she. The hot colour came rushing painfully +into her cheeks. She threw herself face downwards upon the sofa. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +LORD ARRANMORE IN A NEW ROLE + +"The epoch-making nights of one's life," Mr. Hennibul remarked, "are +few. Let us sit down and consider what has happened." + +"A seat," Lady Caroom sighed. "What luxury! But where?" + +"My knowledge of the geography of this house," Mr. Hennibul answered, +"has more than once been of the utmost service to me, but I have never +appreciated it more than at this moment. Accept my arm, Lady Caroom." + +They made a slow circuit of the room, passed through an ante-chamber and +came out in a sort of winter-garden looking over the Park. Lady Caroom +exclaimed with delight. + +"You dear man," she exclaimed. "Of course I knew of this place--isn't +it charming?--but I had no idea that we could reach it from the +reception-rooms. Let us move our chairs over there. We can sit and +watch the hansoms turn into Piccadilly." + +"It shall be as you say," he answered. "I wonder if all London is as +excited to-night as the crowd we have just left." + +"To me," she murmured, "London seems always imperturbable, stonily +indifferent to good or evil. I believe that on the eve of a revolution +we should dine and go to the theatre, choose our houses at which to +spend the evening, and avoid sweet champagne with the same care. You +and I may know that to-night England has thrown overboard a national +policy. Yet I doubt whether either of us will sleep the less soundly." + +"Not only that," he said, "but the Government have to-day shown +themselves possessed of a penetration and appreciation of mind for which +I for one scarcely gave them credit. They have made me a peer." + +She looked at him with an amused smile. + +"They make judges and peers for two reasons" she remarked. + +"That, Lady Caroom, is unkind," he said. "I can assure you that +throughout my career I have never made a nuisance of myself to any one. +In the House I have been a model member, and I have always obeyed my +whip in fear and trembling. At the Bar I have been mildness itself. +The /St. James's Gazette/ speaks of my urbanity, and the courtesy with +which I have always conducted the most arduous cross-examination. You +should read the /St. James's Gazette/, Lady Caroom. I do not know the +biographical editor, but it is easy to predict a future for him. He has +common-sense and insight. The paragraph about myself touched me. I +have cut it out, and I mean to keep it always with me." + +"The Press," she said, "have all those things cut and dried. No doubt +if you made friends with that young man he would let you read your +obituary notice. I have a friend who has corrected the proofs of his +already." + +Hennibul smiled. + +"My cousin Avenal, the police magistrate," he said, "actually read his +in the Times. He was bathing at Jersey and was carried away by +currents, and picked up by a Sark fishing-smack. They took him to Sark, +and he was so charmed with his surroundings and the hospitality of the +people that he quite forgot to let anybody know where he was. When he +read his obituary notice he almost decided to remain dead. He declared +that it was quite impossible to live up to it." + +"Our charity now-a-days," she remarked, "always begins with the dead." + +"Let me try and awaken yours towards the living!" he said. + +She laughed. + +"Are you smitten with the Brooks' fever?" she asked. + +"Mine is a fever," he answered, "but it has nothing to do with Brooks. +I would try to awaken your charity on behalf of a perfectly worthy +object, myself--/vide/ the /St. James's Gazette/." + +"And what do you need from me more than you have?" she asked. "Haven't +you the sole possession of my society, the right to bore me or make me +happy, perhaps presently the right to feed me?" + +"For a few minutes," he answered. + +"Don't be so sure. It may be an hour." + +"I want it," he said, "for longer." + +Something in his tone suddenly broke through the easy lightness of their +conversation. She stole a swift side-glance at him, and understood. + +"Come," she said, "you and I are setting every one here a bad example. +This is not an occasion for /tete-a-tetes/. We should be doing our duty +and talking a little to every one. Let us go back and make up for lost +time." + +She rose to her feet, but found him standing in the way. For once the +long humorous mouth was set fast, his eyes were no longer full of the +shadow of laughter, his tone had a new note in it, the note which a +woman never fails to understand. + +"Dear Lady Caroom," he said, "I was not altogether jesting." + +She looked him in the eyes. + +"Dear friend," she answered, "I know that you were not, and so I think +that we had better go back." + +He detained her very gently. + +"It is the dearest hope I have in life," he said, softly. "Do not let +me run the risk of being misunderstood. Will you be my wife?" + +She shook her head. There were tears in her eyes, but her gesture was +significant enough. + +"It is impossible," she said. "I have loved another man all my life." + +He offered her his arm at once. + +"Then I believe," he said, in a low tone, "in the old saying--that a +glimpse of paradise is sufficient to blind the strongest man...." + +They passed into the reception-room, and came face to face with Brooks. +She held out her hand. + +"Come, you have no right here," she declared. "You are not even a +Member of Parliament." He laughed. + +"What about you?" + +"Oh, I am an inspiration!" + +"I don't believe," he said, "that you realize in the least what is going +to happen." + +"I do!" she answered. "I am going to make you relieve Lord Hennibul, +and take me to have an ice." + +They moved off together. Hennibul stood looking after them for a +moment. Then he sighed and turned slowly away. + +"If it's Arranmore," he said to himself, "why on earth doesn't he marry +her?" + +Lady Caroom was more silent than usual. She complained of a headache, +and Brooks persuaded her to take champagne instead of the ice. + +"What is the matter with you to-night?" she asked, looking at him +thoughtfully. "You look like a boy--with a dash of the bridegroom." + +He laughed joyously. + +"You should read the evening papers--you would understand a little the +practical effect of our new Tariff Bill. Mills in Yorkshire and +Lancashire are being opened that have been shut down for years; in +Medchester, Northampton, and the boot-centres the unemployed are being +swept into the factories. Manufacturers who have been struggling to +keep their places open at all are planning extensions already. The +wages bill throughout the country will be the largest next week that has +been paid for years. Travellers are off to the Colonies with cases of +samples--every manufacturing centre is suddenly alive once more. The +terrible struggle for existence is lightened. Next week," Brooks +continued, with an almost boyish twinkle in his eyes, "I shall go down +to Medchester and walk through the streets where it used to make our +hearts ache to see the unemployed waiting about like dumb suffering +cattle. It will be a holiday--a glorious holiday." + +"And yet behind it all," she remarked, watching him closely, "there is +something on your mind. What is it?" + +He looked at her quickly. + +"What an observation." + +"Won't you tell me?" + +He shook his head. + +"It is only one of the smallest cupboards," he said. "The ghost will +very soon be stifled." + +She sighed. + +"Did you see Lord Arranmore this evening?" + +"Yes. He was talking to the duke just now. What of him?" + +"I have been watching him. Did you ever see a man look so ill?", + +"He is bored," Brooks answered, coldly. "This sort of thing does not +amuse him." + +She shook her head. + +"He is always the same. He has always that weary look. He is living +with absolute recklessness. It cannot possibly last long." + +"He knows the price," Brooks answered. "He lives as he chooses." + +"I wonder," she murmured. "Sometimes I wonder whether we do not +misjudge him--you and I, Kingston. For you know we have been his +judges. You must not shake your head. It is true. You have judged him +to be unworthy of a son, and I--I have judged him to be unworthy of a +wife. You don't think--that we could possibly have made a mistake--that +underneath there is a little heart left--eaten up with pride and +loneliness?" + +"I have never seen," Brooks answered, "the slightest trace of it." + +"Nor I," she answered. "Yet I knew him when he was young. He was so +different, and annihilation is very hard, isn't it? Supposing he were +to die, and we were to find out afterwards?" + +"You," he said, slowly, "must be the judge of your own actions. For my +part I see in him only the man who abandoned my mother, who spent the +money of other people in dissipation and worse than dissipation. Who +came to England and accepted my existence after a leisurely interval as +a matter of course. I have never seen in any one of his actions, or +heard in his tone one single indication of anything save selfishness so +incarnate as to have become the only moving impulse of his life. If +ever I could believe that he cared for me, would find in me anything +save a convenience, I would try to forget the past. If he would even +express his sorrow for it, show himself capable of any emotion +whatsoever in connection with anything or any person save himself, I +would be only too thankful to escape from my ridiculous position." + +Then they were silent for a moment, each occupied with their own +thoughts, and Lord Arranmore, pale and spare, taller than most men +there, notwithstanding a recently-acquired stoop, came wearily over to +them. + +"Dear me," he remarked, "what gloomy faces--and I expected to see Brooks +at least radiant. Am I intruding?" + +"Don't be absurd, Arranmore," she said kindly. "Why don't you bring up +that chair and sit down? You look tired." + +He laughed--a little hardly. + +"I have been tired so long," he said, "that it has become a habit. +Brooks, will you think me guilty of an impertinence, I wonder? I have +intruded upon your concerns." + +Brooks looked up with his eyes full of questioning. "That fellow +Lavilette," Arranmore continued, seemed worried about your anonymous +subscription. I was in an evil temper yesterday afternoon, and Verity +amused me. So I wrote and confounded the fellow by explaining that it +was I who sent the money--the thousand pounds you had." + +"You?" Lady Caroom exclaimed, breathlessly. + +"You sent me that thousand pounds?" Brooks cried. + +They exchanged rapid glances: A spot of colour burned in Lady Caroom's +cheeks. She felt her heart quicken, an unspoken prayer upon her lips. + +Brooks, too, was agitated. + +"Upon my word," Lord Arranmore remarked, coldly, "I really don't know +why my whim should so much astound you. I took care to explain that I +sent it without the slightest sympathy in the cause--merely out of +compliment to an acquaintance. It was just a whim, nothing more, I can +assure you. I think that I won it at Sandown or something." + +"It was not because you were interested in this work, then?" Lady Caroom +asked, fearfully. + +"Not in the slightest," he answered. "That is to say, sympathetically +interested. I am curious. I will admit that. No more." + +The colour faded from Lady Caroom's cheeks. She shivered a little and +rose to her feet. Brooks' face had hardened. + +"We are very much obliged to you for the money," he said. "As for +Lavilette, I had not thought it worth while to reply to him." + +Lord Arranmore shrugged his shoulders. + +"Nor should I in your place," he answered. "My position is a little +different, of course. I am positively looking forward to my next week's +Verity. You are leaving now, I see. Good-night!" + +"I have kept Mr. Brooks away from his friends," she said, looking at +him. "Will you see me to my carriage?" + +He offered her his arm with courtly grace. They passed down the crowded +staircase together. + +"You are looking ill, Philip," she said, softly. "You are not taking +care of yourself." + +"Care of myself," he laughed. "Why, for whom? Life is not exactly a +playground, is it?" + +"You are not making the best of it!" + +"The best! Do you want to mock me?" + +"It is you," she whispered, "who stand before a looking-glass, and mock +yourself. Philip, be a man. Your life is one long repression. Break +through just once! Won't you?" + +He sighed. "Would you have me a hypocrite, Catherine?" + +She shook her head. Suddenly she looked up at him. + +"Philip, will you promise me this? If ever your impulse should come--if +you should feel the desire to speak, to act once more as a man from +your heart--you will not stifle it. Promise me that." He looked at her +with a faint, tired smile. "Yes, I promise," he answered. + + + +CHAPTER V + +LADY SYBIL LENDS A HAND + +Brooks glanced at the card which was brought in to him, at first +carelessly enough, afterwards with mingled surprise and pleasure. + +"Here is some one," he said to Mary Scott, "whom I should like you to +meet. Show the young lady in," he directed. + +Some instinct seemed to tell her the truth. + +"Who is it?" she asked quickly. "I am very busy this morning." + +"It is Lady Sybil Caroom," he answered. "Please don't go. I should +like you to meet her." + +Mary looked longingly at the door of communication which led into the +further suite of offices, but it was too late to think of escape. Sybil +had already entered, bringing into the room a delicious odor of +violets, herself almost bewilderingly beautiful. She was dressed with +extreme simplicity, but with a delicate fastidiousness which Mary at any +rate was quick to appreciate. Her lips were slightly parted in a +natural and perfectly dazzling smile. She came across to Brooks with +outstretched hand and laughter in her eyes. + +"Confess that you are horrified," she exclaimed. "I don't care a bit. +I've waited for you to take me quite long enough. If you won't come now +I shall go by myself." + +"Go where?" he exclaimed. + +"Why, to one of the branches--I don't care which. I can help for the +rest of the day." He laughed. + +"Well, let me introduce you to Miss Scott," he said, turning round. +"Mary, this is Lady Sybil Caroom. Miss Scott," he continued, turning to +the younger girl, "has been my right hand since we first started. If +ever you do stand behind our counter it will have to be under her +auspices." + +Sybil turned courteously but with some indifference towards the girl, +who was standing by Brooks' chair. In her plain black dress and white +linen collar Mary perhaps looked more than her years, especially by the +side of Sybil. As the eyes of the two met, Sybil saw that she was +regarded with more than ordinary attention. She saw, too, that Mary was +neither so plain nor so insignificant as she had at first imagined. + +"I am sure you are very much to be congratulated, Miss Scott," she said. +"Mr. Brooks' scheme is a splendid success, isn't it? You must be proud +of your share in it." + +"My share," Mary said, in quiet, even tones, "has been very small +indeed. Mr. Brooks is alone responsible for it. The idea was his, and +the organization was his. We others have been no more than machines." + +"Very useful machines, Mary," Brooks said, with a kind glance towards +her. "Come, we mustn't any of us belittle our share in the work." + +Mary took up some papers from the desk. + +"I think," she said, "that if you have no more messages for Mr. Flitch +I had better start. We are very busy in Stepney just now." + +"Please don't hurry," Brooks said. "We must try and manage something +for Lady Sybil." + +Mary looked up doubtfully. + +"Unless you ask Lady Sybil to look on," she said, "I don't quite see how +it is possible for her to come." + +"Lady Sybil knows the conditions," Brooks answered. "She wants to have +a try as a helper." + +Mary raised her eyebrows slightly. + +"The chief work in the morning is washing children," she remarked. +"They come to us in a perfectly filthy condition, and we wash about +twenty each, altogether." + +Sybil laughed. + +"Well, I'm not at all afraid of that," she declared. "I could do my +share. I rather like kiddies." + +"The other departments," Mary went on, "all need some instruction. +Would you think it worth while for one day? If so, I should be pleased +to do what I can for you." + +Sybil hesitated. She glanced towards Brooks. + +"I don't want to give a lot of unnecessary trouble, of course," she +said. "Especially if you are busy. But it might be for more than one +day. You have a staff of supernumerary helpers, haven't you, whom you +send for when you are busy? I thought that I might be one of those." + +"In that case," Mary answered, "I shall be very glad, of course, to put +you in the way of it. I am going to my own branch this morning at +Stepney. Will you come with me?" + +"If you are sure I shan't be a nuisance," Sybil answered, gratefully. +"Good-bye, Mr. Brooks. I'm awfully obliged to you, and will talk it +all over at the Henages' to-night." + +The two girls drove off in Sybil's brougham. Mary, in her quiet little +hat and plain jacket, seemed to her companion, notwithstanding her air +of refinement, to be a denizen of some other world. And between the two +there was from the first a certain amount of restraint. + +"Do you give up your whole time to this sort of work?" Sybil asked, +presently. + +"I do now," Mary answered. "I had other employment in the morning, but +I gave that up last week. I am a salaried official of the Society from +last Monday." + +Sybil stole a swift side-glance at her. + +"Do you know, I think that it must be a very satisfactory sort of life," +she said. + +Mary's lips flickered into the faintest of smiles. "Really!" + +"Oh, I mean it," Sybil continued. "Of course, I like going about and +enjoying myself, but it is hideously tiring. And then after a year or +two of it you begin to realize a sort of sameness. Things lose their +flavour. Then you have odd times of serious thought, and you know that +you have just been going round and round in a circle, that you have done +nothing at all except made some show at enjoying yourself. Now that +isn't very satisfactory, is it?" + +"No," Mary answered, "I don't suppose it is." + +"Now you," Sybil continued, "you may be dull sometimes, but I don't +suppose you are, and whenever you leave off and think--well, you must +always feel that your time, instead of having been wasted, has been well +and wholesomely spent. I wish I could have that feeling sometimes." + +Despite herself, Mary felt that she would have to like this girl. She +was so pretty, so natural, and so deeply in earnest. + +"There is no reason why you shouldn't, is there?" she said, more kindly +than she had as yet spoken. "I can assure you that I very often have +the blues, and I don't consider mine by any means the happiest sort of +life. But, of course, one feels differently a little if one has tried +to do something--and you can if you like, you know." + +Sybil's face was perfectly brilliant with smiles. + +"You think that I can?" she exclaimed. "How nice of you. I don't mind +how hard it is at first. I may be a little awkward, but I don't think +I'm stupid." + +"You think this sort of work is the sort you would like best?" + +"Why, yes. It seems so practical, you know," Sybil declared. "You must +be doing good, even if some of the people don't deserve it. I don't +know about the washing, but I don't mind it a bit. Do you think it will +be a busy morning?" + +"I am sure it will," Mary answered. "A number of the people are getting +to work again now, since the Tariff Revision Bill passed, and they keep +coming to us for clothes and boots and things. I shall give you the +skirts and blouses to look after as soon as the washing is over. + +"Delightful," Sybil exclaimed. "I am sure I can manage that." + +"And on no account must you give any money to any one," Mary said. +"That is most important." + +"I will remember," Sybil promised. + +Two hours later she broke in upon her mother and half-a-dozen callers, +her hat obviously put on without a looking-glass, her face flushed, and +her hair disordered, and smelling strongly of disinfectant. + +"Some tea, mother, please," she exclaimed, nodding to her visitors. "I +have had one bun for luncheon, and I am starving. Can you imagine what +I have been doing?" + +No one could. Every one tried. + +"Skating!" + +"Ping-pong!" + +Getting theatre-tickets at the theatre! She waved them aside with +scorn. + +"I have washed fourteen children," she declared, impressively, "fitted +at least a dozen women with blouses and skirts, and three with boots. +Besides a lot of odd things." + +Lord Arranmore set down his cup with a little shrug of the shoulders. + +"You have joined Brooks' Society?" he remarked. + +"Yes! I have been down at the Stepney branch all the morning. And do +you know, we're disinfected before we leave." + +"A most necessary precaution, I should think," Lady Caroom exclaimed, +reaching for her vinaigrette, "but do go and change your things as +quickly as you can. + +"I must eat, mother, or starve," Sybil declared. "I have never been so +hungry." + +A somewhat ponderous lady, who was the wife of a bishop, felt bound to +express her disapprobation. + +"Do you really think, dear," she said, "that you are wise in encouraging +a charity which is not in any way under the control of the Church?" + +"Oh, isn't it?" Sybil remarked. "I'm sure I didn't know. But then the +Church hasn't anything quite like this, has it? Mr. Brooks is so +clever and original in all his ideas." + +The disapprobation of the bishop's wife became even more marked. + +"The very fact," she said, "that the Church has not thought it wise to +institute a charitable scheme upon such--er--sweeping lines, is a proof, +to my mind, that the whole thing is a mistake. As a matter of fact, I +happen to know that the bishop strongly disapproves of Mr. Brooks' +methods." + +"That's rather a pity, isn't it?" Sybil asked, sweetly. "The Society +has done so much good, and in so short a time. Every one admits that." + +"I think that the opinion is very far from universal," the elder lady +remarked, firmly. "There appears to be no discrimination shown whatever +in the distribution of relief. The deserving and the undeserving are +all classed together. I could not possibly approve of any charity +conducted upon such lines, nor, I think, could any good churchwoman." + +"Mr. Brooks thinks," Sybil remarked, with her mouth full of cake, "that +it is the undeserving who are in the greatest need of help." + +"One could believe anything," the bishop's wife said stiffly, "of a man +who adopted such principles as that. And although I do not as a rule +approve of Mr. Lavilette or his paper, I am seriously inclined to agree +with him in some of his strictures upon Mr. Brooks." + +Sybil laughed softly. + +"I hadn't read them," she remarked. "Mother doesn't allow the man's +paper in the house. Do you really mean that you have it at the palace, +Mrs. Endicott?" + +The bishop's wife stiffened. + +"Mr. Lavilette has at times done great service to the community by his +exposure of frauds of all sorts, especially charitable frauds," she +said. "It is possible that he may shortly add to the number." + +Lord Arranmore shook his head slowly. + +"Mr. Lavilette," he said, "has also had to pay damages in one or two +rather expensive libel cases. And, between you and me, Mrs. Endicott, +if our young friend Brooks chose to move in the matter, I am afraid Mr. +Lavilette might have to sign the largest cheque he has ever signed in +his life for law costs." + +The bishop's wife rose with an icy smile. + +"I seem to have found my way into Mr. Brooks' headquarters," she +remarked. "Lady Caroom, I shall hope to see you at the palace shortly." + +"Poor me," Sybil exclaimed, as their visitor departed. "She only asked +you, mummy, so as to exclude me. And poor Mr. Brooks! I wish he'd +been here. What fun we should have had." + +"Oh, these Etrusians," Lord Arranmore murmured. "I thought that a +bishop was very near heaven indeed, all sanctity and charity, and that a +bishop's wife was the concentrated essence of these things--plus the +wings." + +Sybil laughed softly. + +"Sanctity and charity," she repeated, "and Mrs. Endicott. Oh!" + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE RESERVATION OF MARY SCOTT + +The two girls were travelling westwards on the outside of an omnibus, in +itself to Sybil a most fascinating mode of progression, and talking a +good deal spasmodically. + +"It's really too bad of you, Miss Scott," Sybil declared. "Now to-day, +if you will come, luncheon shall be served in my own room. We shall be +quite cosy and quiet, and I promise you that you shall not see a soul +except my mother--whom I want you to know." + +Mary shook her head. + +"Don't think me unkind," she said. "I really must not begin visiting. +I have only just time for a hurried lunch, and then I must look in at +the office and get down to Bermondsey." + +"You might just as well have that hurried lunch with me," Sybil +declared. "I'll send you anywhere you like afterwards in the carriage." + +"It is very kind of you," Mary answered, "but my visiting days are over. +I am not a social person at all, you know. My role is usefulness, and +nothing else." + +"You are too young to talk like that," Sybil said. "I am ten years +older than you are," Mary reminded her. "You are twenty-eight," Sybil +answered. "I think it is beautiful of you to be so devoted to this +work, but I am quite sure a little change now and then is wholesome." + +"In another ten years I may think of it," Mary said. "Just now I have +so much upon my hands that I dare not risk even the slightest +distraction." + +"In another ten years," Sybil said, "you will find it more difficult to +enlarge your life than now. I can't believe that absorption in any one +thing is natural at your age." + +Mary looked steadfastly down at the horses. + +"We must all decide what is best for ourselves," she said. "I have not +your disposition, remember." + +"Nothing in the world," Sybil said, "would convince me that it is well +for any girl of your age to crowd everything out of her life except +work, however fine and useful the work may be. Now you have admitted +that except for Mr. Brooks and the people you have met in connection +with his work you have no friends in London. I want you to count me a +friend, Miss Scott. You have been very kind to me, and made everything +delightfully easy. Why can't you let me try and repay it a little?" + +"I have only done my duty," Mary answered, quietly. "I am supposed to +show new helpers what to do, and you have picked it up very quickly. And +as for the rest--don't think me unkind, but I have no room for +friendships in my life just now." + +"I am sorry," Sybil answered, softly, for though Mary's tone had been +cold enough, she had nevertheless for a single moment lifted the +curtain, and Sybil understood in some vague manner that there were +things behind into which she had no right to inquire. + +The two girls parted at Trafalgar Square, and Sybil, still in love with +the fresh air, turned blithely westward on foot. In the Haymarket she +came face to face with Brooks. + +He greeted her with a delightful smile. + +"You alone, and walking," he exclaimed. "What fortune. May I come?" + +"Of course," she answered. "You know where I have come from, I +suppose?" + +He glanced at her plain clothes and realized that the odour of +disinfectants was stronger even than the perfume of the handful of +violets which she had just bought from a woman in the street. + +"Stepney!" he exclaimed. + +"Quite right. I had a card last evening, and was there at nine o'clock +this morning. I suppose I look a perfect wreck. I was dancing at +Hamilton House at three o'clock." + +He looked towards her marvelling. Her cheeks were prettily flushed, and +she walked with the delightful springiness of perfect health. + +"I have never seen you look better," he answered. + +"And you," she remarked, glancing in amusement at his blue serge +clothes, which, to tell the truth, badly needed brushing. "What are you +doing in the West End at this time in the morning? + +"I have been to Drury Lane," he answered, "with some surveyors from the +County Council. There is a whole court there I mean to get condemned. +Then I looked in at our new place there, but there was such a howling +lot of children that I was glad to get away. How they hate being +washed!" + +"Don't they!" she exclaimed, laughing. "I had the dearest, naughtiest +little girl this morning, and, do you know, when I got her clean, her +own brothers and sisters didn't know her again. I'm so glad I've seen +you, Mr. Brooks. I want to ask you something." "Well?" + +"About Miss Scott. She's been so good to me, and I like her awfully. +We've just come up on the omnibus together." + +"She has been my right hand from the very first," Brooks said, slowly. +"I really don't see how I could have done without her. She is such a +capital organizer, too." + +"I know all that," Sybil declared. "She's wonderful. I don't want, of +course, to be inquisitive," she went on, after a moment's hesitation, +"but she interests me so much, and it was only this morning that I felt +that I understood her a little bit." + +Brooks nodded. + +"She is a very reserved young woman," he said. + +"Yes, but isn't there some reason for it?" Sybil continued, eagerly. "I +have asked her lots of times to come and see me. She admits that she +has no friends in London, and I wanted to have her come very much. You +see, I thought she would be sure to like mother, and if she doesn't care +for society, we might go to the theatre or the opera, a it would be a +little change for her, wouldn't it?" + +"I think it is very kind of you indeed," Brooks said. + +"Well, she has always refused, but I have been very persistent. I just +thought that she was perhaps a little shy, or found it difficult to +break through her retirement--people get like that, you know, when they +live alone. So this morning I really went for her, and I happened to be +looking, and I saw something in her face which puzzled me. It stopped +my asking her any more. There is something underneath her quiet manner +and self-devotion. She has had trouble of some sort." + +"How do you know?" he asked. + +"A girl can always tell," Sybil answered. "Her self-control is +wonderful, but she just let it slip--for a moment. She has some +trouble, I am sure. I thought perhaps you might know. Isn't there +anything we could do? I am so sorry for her." + +Brooks was very grave, and his face was curiously pale. + +"Are you quite sure?" he asked. + +"Certain!" + +They walked on in silence for a few moments. + +"You have asked me a very difficult question," he said at last. "She +has had a very unhappy sort of life. Her father and mother died in +Canada--her father shot himself, and her mother died of the shock. She +went to live with an uncle at Medchester, who was good to her, but his +household could scarcely have been very congenial. I met her there--she +was interested in charitable works then, and she came to London to try +and attain some sort of independence. At first she had a position on a +lady's magazine which took up her mornings, but we have just induced her +to accept a small salary and give us all her time." "That seems like a +comprehensive sketch of her life," Sybil remarked, thoughtfully, "but +are you sure--that you have not missed anything out?" + +"So far as I know," he answered, gravely, "there is nothing new to +tell." + +They walked the rest of the way to Berkeley Square in absolute silence. + +"You will come in to lunch?" she said. + +He looked down at his clothes. + +"I think not," he answered. + +"We are almost certain to be alone," she said. "You haven't seen mother +for a long time." + +He suffered himself to be persuaded, and almost immediately regretted +it. For there were a dozen people or more round the luncheon-table, and +he caught a glimpse of more than one frock coat. Further, from the dead +silence which followed their entrance, it seemed more than probable that +he himself had formed the subject of conversation. + +Lady Caroom greeted him as kindly as ever, and found a place for him by +her side. Brooks, whose self-possession seldom failed him, smiled to +himself as he recognized the bishop, who was his /vis-a-vis/. Hennibul, +however, from a little lower down nodded to him pleasantly, and Lord +Arranmore spoke a few words of dry greeting. + +"Your friend Bullsom," he remarked, "has soon distinguished himself. +He made quite a decent speech the other night on the Tariff Bill." + +"He has common-sense and assurance," Brooks answered. "He ought to be a +very useful man." + +Lord Hennibul leaned forward and addressed Arranmore with blank surprise +on his face. + +"You don't mean to say that you read the debates in the House of +Commons, Arranmore?" he exclaimed. + +Lord Arranmore shrugged his shoulders. + +"Since the degeneration of English humour," he remarked, "one must go +somewhere for one's humour." + +"I should try the House of Lords, then," a smart young under-secretary +remarked under his breath, with a glance at the bishop. "There is more +hidden humour in the unshaken gravity of the Episcopal Bench than in +both Houses of Parliament put together." + +"They take themselves so seriously," Sybil murmured. + +"To our friend there," the younger man continued, "the whole world's a +congregation--and, by Jove, here comes the text." + +For the bishop had deliberately cleared his throat, and leaning forward +addressed Brooks across the table. + +"I believe," he said, "that I have the pleasure of speaking to Mr. +Brooks--Mr. Kingston Brooks?" + +"That is my name," Brooks answered civilly, wondering what avalanche was +to be hurled upon him. + +"Would you consider a question, almost a personal question, from a +stranger an impertinence--when the stranger is twice your age?" the +bishop asked. + +"By no means," Brooks answered. "On the contrary, I should be delighted +to answer it if I can." + +"These aspersions which Mr.--er--Lavilette has been making so freely in +his paper against your new departure--I mean against the financial +management of it--do you propose to answer them?" + +"Well," Brooks said, "I have not altogether made up my mind. Perhaps +your lordship would permit me--since you have mentioned the matter--to +ask for your advice." + +The bishop inclined his head. This was by no means the truculent sort +of young man he had expected. + +"You are very welcome to it, Mr. Brooks," he answered. "I should +advise you most earnestly to at once justify yourself,--not to Mr. +Lavilette, but to the readers of his paper whom he may have influenced +by his statements. One charitable institution, however different its +foundation, or its method of working, or its ultimate aims, leans +largely upon another. Mr. Lavilette's attack, if unanswered, may +affect the public mind with regard to many other organizations which are +grievously in need of support." + +"If that is your opinion," Brooks said, after a moment's hesitation, "I +will take the steps you suggest, and set myself right at once." + +"If you can do that thoroughly and clearly," the bishop said, "you will +render a service to the whole community." + +"There should not be much difficulty," Brooks remarked, helping himself +to omelette. "I never appealed for subscriptions, but directly they +began to come in I engaged a clerk and a well-known firm of auditors, +through whose banking-account all the money has passed. They have been +only too anxious to take the matter up." + +"I am more than pleased at your decision, Mr. Brooks," the bishop said, +genially. "I rejoice at it. You will pardon my remarking that you seem +very young to have inaugurated and to carry the whole responsibility of +a work of such magnitude." + +"The work," Brooks answered, "has largely grown of itself. But I have +an excellent staff of helpers." + +"The sole responsibility though rests with you. + +"I am arranging to evade it," Brooks answered. "I am going to adopt +commercial methods and inaugurate a Board of Directors." + +The bishop hesitated. + +"Again, Mr. Brooks," he said, "I must address a suggestion to you which +might seem to require an apology. You have adopted methods and +expressed views with regard to your scheme which are in themselves +scarcely reconcilable with the point of view with which we churchmen are +bound to regard the same question. But if you thought it worth while +before finally arranging your Board to discuss the whole subject with +me, it would give me the greatest pleasure to have you visit me at the +palace at any time convenient to yourself." + +"I shall consider it a great privilege," Brooks answered, promptly, "and +I shall not hesitate to avail myself of it." + +The little party broke up soon afterwards, but Lady Caroom touched +Brooks upon his shoulder. + +"Come into my room for a few minutes," she said. "I want to talk with +you." + + + +CHAPTER VII + +FATHER AND SON + +"Do you know," Lady Caroom said, motioning Brooks to a seat by her side, +"that I feel very middle-class and elderly and interfering. For I am +going to talk to you about Sybil." + +Brooks was a little paler than usual. This was one of those rare +occasions when he found his emotions very hard to subdue. And it had +come so suddenly. + +"After we left Enton," Lady Caroom said, thoughtfully, "I noticed a +distinct change in her. The first evidences of it were in her treatment +of Sydney Molyneux. I am quite sure that she purposely precipitated +matters, and when he proposed refused him definitely." + +"I do not think," Brooks found voice to say, "that she would ever have +married Sydney Molyneux." + +"Perhaps not," Lady Caroom admitted, "but at any rate before our visit +to Enton she was quite content to have him around--she was by no means +eager to make up her mind definitely. After we left she seemed to +deliberately plan to dispose of him finally. Since then--I am talking +in confidence, Kingston-she has refused t e Duke of Atherstone." + +Brooks was silent. His self-control was being severely tested. His +heart was beating like a sledgehammer--he was very anxious to avoid Lady +Caroom's eyes. + +"Atherstone," she said, slowly, "is quite the most eligible bachelor in +England, and he is, as you know, a very nice, unaffected boy. There is +only one possible inference for me, as Sybil's mother, to draw, and that +is that she cares, or is beginning to think that she cares, for some one +else." + +"Some one else? Do you know whom?" Brooks asked. + +"If you do not know," Lady Caroom answered, "I do not." + +Brooks threw aside all attempt at disguise. He looked across at Lady +Caroom, and his eyes were very bright. + +"I have never believed," he said, "that Sybil would be likely to care +for me. I can scarcely believe it now." + +Lady Caroom hesitated. + +"In any case," she said, "could you ask her to marry you? You must see +that as things are it would be impossible!" + +"Impossible!" he muttered. "Impossible!" + +"Of course," she answered, briskly. "You must be a man of the world +enough to know that. You could not ask a girl in Sybil's position to +share a borrowed name, nor would the other conditions permit of your +marrying her. That is why I want to talk to you." + +"Well?" + +"Is there any immediate chance of your reconciliation with the Marquis +of Arranmore?" + +"None," Brooks answered. + +"Well, then," Lady Caroom said, "there is no immediate chance of your +being in a position to marry Sybil. Don't look at me as though I were +saying unkind things. I am not. I am only talking common-sense. What +is your income?" + +"About two thousand pounds, but some of that half, perhaps more--goes to +the Society." + +"Exactly. It would be impossible for you to marry Sybil on the whole of +it, or twice the whole of it." + +"You want me then," Brooks said, "to be reconciled to my father. Yet +you--you yourself will not trust him." + +"I have not expressed any wish of the sort," Lady Caroom said, kindly. +"I only wished to point out that as things are you were not in a +position to ask Sybil to marry you, and therefore I want you to keep +away from her. I mean this kindly for both of you. Of course if Sybil +is absolutely in earnest, if the matter has gone too far, we must talk +it all over again and see what is to be done. But I want you to give +her a chance. Keep away for a time. Your father may live for +twenty-five years. If your relations with him all that time continue as +they are now, marriage with a girl brought up like Sybil would be an +impossibility." + +Brooks was silent for several moments. Then he looked up suddenly. + +"Has Lady Sybil said anything to you--which led you to speak to me?" + +Lady Caroom shook her head. + +"No. She is very young, you know. Frankly, I do not believe that she +knows her own mind. You have not spoken to her, of course?" "No!" + +"And you will not?" + +"I suppose," Brooks said, "that I must not think of it." + +"You must give up thinking about her, of course," Lady Caroom said, +"until--" Until what? + +"Until you can ask her--if ever you do ask her--to marry you in your +proper name." + +Brooks set his teeth and walked up and down the little room. + +"That," he said, "may be never." + +"Exactly," Lady Caroom agreed. "That is why I am suggesting that you do +not see her so often." + +He stopped opposite her. + +"Does he--does Lord Arranmore know anything of this?" + +She shook her head. + +"Not from me. He may have heard whispers. To tell you the truth, I +myself have been asked questions during the last few days. You have +been seen about a good deal with Sybil, and you are rather a mystery to +people. That is why I felt compelled to speak." He nodded. "I see!" + +"You must not blame me," she went on, softly. "You know, Kingston, that +I like you, that I would give you Sybil willingly under ordinary +circumstances. I don't want to speak to her if I can help it. And, +Kingston, there is one thing more I must say to you. It is on my mind. +It keeps me awake at night. I think that it will make an old woman of +me very soon. If--if we should be wrong?" + +"There is no possibility of that," he answered, sadly. "Lord Arranmore +is candour itself, even in his selfishness." + +"His face haunts me," she murmured. "There is something so terribly +impersonal, so terribly sad about it. He looks on at everything, he +joins in nothing. They say that he gambles, but he never knows whether +he is winning or losing. He gives entertainments that are historical, +and remains as cold as ice to guests whom a prince would be glad to +welcome. His horse won that great race the other day, and he gave up +his place on the stand, just before the start, to a little girl, and +never even troubled to watch the race, though his winnings were +enormous. He bought the Frivolity Theatre, produced this new farce, and +has never been seen inside the place. What does it mean, Kingston? +There must be suffering behind all this--terrible suffering." + +"It is a law of retribution," Brooks said, coldly. "He has made other +people suffer all his life. Now perhaps his turn has come. He spends +fortunes trying to amuse himself and cannot. Are we to pity him for +that?" + +"I have heard of people," she said, looking at him intently, "who are +too proud to show the better part of themselves, who rather than court +pity or even sympathy will wear a mask always, will hide the good that +is in them and parade the bad." + +"You love him still?" he said, wonderingly. + +"Kingston, I do. If I were a brave woman I would risk everything. +Sometimes when I see him, like a Banquo at a feast, with his eyes full +of weariness and the mummy's smile upon his lips, I feel that I can keep +away no longer. Kingston, let us go to him, you and I. Let us see if we +can't tear off the mask." + +He shook his head. + +"He would laugh at us!" + +"Will you try?" + +He hesitated. + +"No! But, Lady Caroom, you have no such debt of bitterness against him +as I have. I cannot advise you--I would not dare. But if there is a +spark of soul left in the man, such love as yours must fan it into +warmth. If you have the courage--risk it." + +Brooks left without seeing Sybil again, and turned northward. In Pall +Mall he heard his name called from the steps of one of the great clubs. +He looked up and found Lord Arranmore leisurely descending. + +"A word with you, Brooks," he said, coolly, "on a matter of business. +Will you step inside?" + +Brooks hesitated. It was beginning to rain, and neither of them had +umbrellas. + +"As you will," he answered. "I have an appointment in half-an-hour." + +"I shall not detain you ten minutes," Lord Arranmore answered. "There +is a comfortable strangers' room here where we can chat. Will you have +anything?" + +"Nothing to drink, thanks," Brooks answered. "A cigarette, if you are +going to smoke." + +Lord Arranmore pushed his cigarette-case across the small round table +which stood between their easy-chairs. The room was empty. + +"You will find these tolerable. I promised to be brief, did I not? I +wished to speak for a moment upon a subject which it seems to me might +require a readjustment of our financial relations." + +Brooks looked up puzzled but made no remark. + +"I refer to the possibility of your desiring to marry. Be so good as not +to interrupt me. I have seen you once or twice with Sybil Caroom, and +there has been a whisper--but after all that is of no consequence. The +name of the young lady would be no concern of mine. But in case you +should be contemplating anything of the sort, I thought it as well that +you should know what the usual family arrangements are." + +"I am sorry," Brooks said, "but I really don't understand what you mean +by family arrangements." + +"No!" Lord Arranmore remarked, softly. "Perhaps if you would allow me +to explain--it is your own time which is limited, you know. The eldest +son of our family comes in, as you have been told, on his twenty-first +birthday, to two thousand pounds a year, which income you are now in +possession of. On his marriage that is increased to ten thousand a +year, with the possession of either Enton or Mangohfred. in the present +case you could take your choice, as I am perfectly indifferent which I +retain. That is all I wished to say. I thought it best for you to +understand the situation. Mr. Ascough will, at any time, put it into +legal shape for you." + +"You speak of this--arrangement," Brooks said, slowly, "as though it +were a corroboration of the settlement upon the eldest son. This +scarcely seems possible. There can be no such provision legally." + +"I scarcely see," Lord Arranmore said, wearily, "what that has to do +with it, The ten thousand pounds a year is, of course, not a legal +charge upon the estates. But from time immemorial it has been the +amount which has been the admitted portion of the eldest son upon +marriage. It is no gift from me. It is the income due to Lord Kingston +of Ross. If you wish for any future explanation I must really refer you +to Mr. Ascough. The discussion of business details is by no means a +favourite occupation of mine." + +Brooks rose to his feet. His eyes were fixed steadily, almost longingly +upon Lord Arranmore's. His manner was not wholly free from nervousness. + +"I am very much obliged to you, Lord Arranmore," he said. "I quite +understand that you are making me the offer of a princely settlement out +of the Arranmore estates to which I have no manner of claim. It is not +possible for me to accept it." + +There was a moment's silence. A great clock in the corner ticked +noisily. A faint unusual colour stole into Lord Arranmore's cheeks. + +"Accept it! I accord you no favour, I offer you no gift. The allowance +is, I repeat, one which every Lord Kingston has drawn upon his marriage. +Perhaps I have spoken before it was necessary. You may have had no +thoughts of anything of the sort?" + +Brooks did not answer. + +"I have noticed," Lord Arranmore continued in measured tones, "an +intimacy between you and Lady Sybil Caroom, which suggested the idea to +me. I look upon Lady Sybil as one of the most charming young +gentlewomen of our time, and admirably suited in all respects to the +position of the future Marchioness of Arranmore. I presume that as +head of the family I am within my rights in so far expressing my +opinion?" + +"Marriage," Brooks said, huskily, "is not possible for me at present." + +"Why not?" + +"I cannot accept this money from you. The terms on which we are do not +allow of it." + +There was an ominous glitter in Lord Arranmore's eyes. He, too, rose to +his feet, and remained facing Brooks, his hand upon the back of his +chair. + +"Are you serious? Do you mean that?" + +"I do!" Brooks answered. Lord Arranmore pointed to the door. + +"Then be off," he said, a note of passion at last quivering in his tone. +"Leave this room at once, and let me see as little of you in the future +as possible. If Sybil cares for you, God help her! You are a damned +obstinate young prig, sir. Be off!" + +Brooks walked out of the club and into the street, his ears tingling and +his cheeks aflame. The world seemed topsy-turvy. It was long indeed +before he forgot those words, which seemed to come to him winged with +a wonderful and curious force. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE ADVICE OF MR. BULLSOM + +At no time in his life was Brooks conscious of so profound a feeling of +dissatisfaction with regard to himself, his work, and his judgment, as +during the next few weeks. His friendship with Mary Scott, which had +been a more pleasant thing than he had ever realized, seemed to him to +be practically at an end, he had received a stinging rebuke from the one +man in the world whose right to administer it he would have vigorously +denied, and he was forced to admit to himself that his last few weeks +had been spent in a fool's paradise, into which he ought never to have +ventured. He had the feeling of having been pulled up sharply in the +midst of a very delightful interlude--and the whole thing seemed to him +to come as a warning against any deviation whatsoever from the life +which he had marked out for himself. So, after a day of indecision and +nerveless hesitation, he turned back once more to his work. Here, at +any rate, he could find absorption. + +He formed his Board--without figure-heads, wholly of workers. There was +scarcely a name which any one had ever heard of before. He had his +interview with the bishop, who was shocked at his views, and publicly +pronounced his enterprise harmful and pauperizing, and Verity, with the +names of the Board as a new weapon, came for him more vehemently than +ever. Brooks, at last goaded into action, sent the paper to his +solicitors and went down to Medchester to attend a dinner given to Mr. +Bullsom. + +It was at Medchester that he recovered his spirits. He knew the place +so well that it was easy for him to gauge and appreciate the altered +state of affairs there. The centre of the town was swept clean at last +of those throngs of weary-faced men and youths looking for a job, the +factories were running full time-there seemed to his fancy to be even an +added briskness in the faces and the footsteps of the hurrying crowds of +people. Later on at the public dinner which he had come down to attend, +he was amply assured as to the sudden wave of prosperity which was +passing over the whole country. Mr. Bullsom, with an immense expanse +of white shirt, a white waistcoat and a scarlet camellia in his +button-hole, beamed and oozed amiability upon every one. Brooks he +grasped by both hands with a full return to his old cordiality, +indulgence in which he had rather avoided since he had been aware of the +social gulf between them. + +"Brooks," he said, "I owe this to you. It was your suggestion. And I +don't think it's turned out so badly, eh? What do you think?" + +"I think that you have found your proper sphere," Brooks answered, +smiling. "I can't think why you ever needed me to suggest it to you." + +"My boy, I can't either," Mr. Bullsom declared. "This is one of the +proudest nights of my life. Do you know what we've done up there at +Westminster, eh? We've given this old country a new lease of life. How +they were all laughing at us up their sleeve, eh! Germans, and +Frenchmen, and Yankees. It's a horse of another colour now. John Bull +has found out how to protect himself. And, Brooks, my boy, it's been +mentioned to-night, and I'm a proud man when I think of it. There were +others who did the showy part of the work, of course, the speechmaking +and the bill-framing and all that, but I was the first man to set the +Protection snowball rolling. It wasn't much I had to say, but I said +it. A glass of wine with you, Sir Henry? With pleasure, sir! + +"I wonder how long it will last," Brooks' neighbour remarked, cynically. +"The manufacturers are like a lot of children with a new toy. What +about the Colonies? What are they going to say about it?" + +"We have no Colonies," Brooks answered, smiling. "You are only half an +Imperialist. Don't you know that they have been incorporated in the +British Empire? + +"Hope they'll like it," his neighbour remarked, sardonically. "Plenty +of glory and a good price to pay for it. What licks me is that every +one seems to imagine that this Tariff Bill is going to give the +working-classes a leg-up. To my mind it's the capitalist who's going to +score by it." + +"The capitalist manufacturer," Brooks answered. "But after all you +can't under our present conditions dissociate capital and labour. The +benefit of one will be the benefit of the other. No food stuffs are +taxed, you know." + +His neighbour grunted. + +"Pity Cobden's ghost can't come and listen to the rot those fellows are +talking," he remarked. "We shall see in a dozen years how the thing +works." + +The dinner ended with a firework of speeches, and an ovation to their +popular townsman and member, which left Mr. Bullsom very red in the +face and a little watery about the eyes. Brooks and he drove off +together afterwards, and Mr. Bullsom occupied the first five minutes or +so of the journey with a vigorous mopping of his cheeks and forehead. + +"A great night, Brooks," he exclaimed, faintly. "A night to remember. +Don't mind admitting that I'm more than a bit exhausted though. Phew!" + +Brooks laughed, and leaning forward looked out of the windows of the +carriage. + +"Are we going in the right direction?" he asked. "This isn't the way to +'Homelands.'" + +Mr. Bullsom smiled. + +"Little surprise for you, Brooks!" he remarked. "We found the sort of +place the girls were hankering after, to let furnished, and we've took +it for a year. We moved in a fortnight ago." + +"Do I know the house?" Brooks asked. "It's Woton Hall," Mr. Bullsom +remarked, impressively. "Nice old place. Dare say you remember it." + +"Remember it! Of course I do," Brooks answered. "How do the young +ladies like it?" + +Mr. Bullsom laid hold of the strap of the carriage. The road was +rough, the horses were fresh, and Mr. Bullsom's head had felt steadier. + +"Well," Mr. Bullsom said, "you'd think to hear em we'd stepped +straight into heaven. We're close to the barracks, you know, and I'm +blest if half the officers haven't called already. They drop in to +luncheon, or dinner, or whatever's going on, in the most friendly way, +just as they used to, you know, when Sir Henry lived there, him as took +wine with me, you remember. Lord, you should hear Selina on the +military. Can't say I take to 'em much myself. I'll bet there'll be +one or two of them hanging about the place to-night. Phew!" + +Mr. Bullsom mopped his forehead again. The carriage had turned in at +the drive, and he glanced towards Brooks a little uneasily. + +"Do I look-as though I'd been going it a bit?" he asked. "Since +Selina's got these band-box young men hanging around she's so mighty +particular." + +Brooks leaned forward and rescued Mr. Bullsom's tie from underneath his +ear. + +"You're all right," he said, reassuringly. "You mustn't let the girls +bully you, you know." + +Mr. Bullsom sat bolt upright. + +"You are quite right, Brooks," he declared. "I will not. But we took +on the servants here as well, and they're a bit strange to me. After +all, though, I'm the boss. I'll let 'em know it, too." + +A footman threw open the door and took Brooks' dressing-case. A butler, +hurrying up from the background, ushered them into the drawing-room. +Mr. Bullsom pulled down his waistcoat and marched in; whistling softly +a popular tune. Selina and Louise, in elaborate evening gowns, were +playing bridge with two young men. + +Selina rose and held out her hand to Brooks a little languidly. + +"So glad to see you, Mr. Brooks," she declared. "Let me introduce Mr. +Suppeton, Captain Meyton!" + +The two young men were good enough to acknowledge the introduction, and +Brooks shook hands with Louise. Selina was surveying her father with +uplifted eyebrows. + +"Why, father, where on earth have you been?" she exclaimed. "I never +saw anybody such a sight. Your shirt is like a rag, and your collar +too." + +"Never you mind me, Selina," Mr. Bullsom answered, firmly. "As to +where I've been, you know quite well. Political dinners may be bad for +your linen, and there may be more healths drunk than is altogether wise, +but a Member of Parliament has to take things as he finds 'em. Don't +let us interrupt your game. Brooks and I are going to have a game at +billiards." + +One of the young men laid down his cards. + +"Can't we join you?" he suggested. "We might have a game of pool, if it +isn't too late." + +"You are soon tired of bridge," Selina remarked, reproachfully. "Very +well, we will all go into the billiard-room." + +The men played a four-handed game. Between the shots Selina talked to +Brooks. + +"Were you surprised?" she asked. "Had you heard?" + +"Not a word. I was astonished," he answered. + +"You hadn't seen it in the papers either? Most of them mentioned it--in +the county notes." + +"I so seldom read the newspapers," he said. "You like it, of course?" + +Selina was bereft of words. + +"How we ever existed in that hateful suburb," she whispered under her +breath. "And the people round here too are so sociable. Papa being a +member makes a difference, of course. Then the barracks--isn't it +delightful having them so close? There is always something going on. A +cricket match to-morrow, I believe. Louise and I are going to play. +Mrs. Malevey--she's the Colonel's wife, you know persuaded us into it." + +"And your mother?" Brooks asked a minute or two later. + +Selina tossed her head. + +"Mother is so foolish," she declared. "She misses the sound of the +trains, and she actually calls the place dead alive, because she can't +sit at the windows and see the tradesmen's carts and her neighbours go +by. Isn't it ridiculous?" + +Brooks hesitated. + +"I suppose so," he answered. "Your mother can have her friends out +here, though. It really is only a short drive to Medchester." + +"She won't have them oftener than I can help," Selina declared, +doggedly. "Old Mrs. Mason called the other day when Captain Meyton and +Mrs. Malevey were here. It was most awkward. But I don't know why I +tell you all these things," she declared, abruptly. "Somehow I always +feel that you are quite an old friend." + +Selina's languishing glance was intercepted by one of her admirers from +the barracks, as she had intended it to be. Brooks went off to play his +shot and returned smiling. + +"I am only too happy that you should feel so," he declared. "Your +father was very kind to me." + +"Isn't it almost a pity that you didn't stay in Medchester, Mr. +Brooks?" Selina remarked, with a faint note of patronage in her tone. +"Papa is so much more influential now, you know, and he was always so +fond of you." + +"It is rather a pity," Brooks remarked, with twinkling eyes. "One can't +foresee these things, you know." + +Selina felt it time to bestow her attention elsewhere, and the game soon +came to an end. The girls glanced at the clock and reluctantly +withdrew. + +"Remember, Miss Bullsom, that we are relying upon you to-morrow," the +younger of the two officers remarked, as he opened the door. "Two +o'clock sharp--but you lunch with Mrs. Malevey first, don't you?" + +"We shan't forget," Selina assured him, graciously. "Good-night." + +The two young men left soon afterwards. Mr. Bullsom mixed himself a +whisky-and-soda, and stood for a few minutes on the hearthrug before +retiring. + +"You're not up to the mark, Brooks, my boy," he said, kindly. + +Brooks shrugged his shoulders. "I am about as usual," he answered. + +Mr. Bullsom set down his glass. + +"Look here, Brooks," he said, "you've given me many a useful piece of +advice, even when you used to charge me six and eightpence for it. I'm +going to turn the tables. One doesn't need to look at you twice to see +that things aren't going altogether as they should do with you. See +here! Are you sure that you're not cutting off your nose to spite your +face, eh?" + +"Perhaps I am," Brooks answered. "But it is too late to draw back now." + +"It is never too late," Mr. Bullsom declared, vigorously. "I've no +fancy for weathercocks, but I haven't a ha'porth of respect for a man +who ain't smart enough to own up when he's made a mistake, and who isn't +willing to start again on a fresh page. You take my advice, Brooks. Be +reconciled with your father, and let 'em all know who you are. I've +seen a bit of Lord Arranmore, and I'll stake my last shilling that he's +not a bad 'un at heart. You make it up with him, Brooks. Come, that's +a straight tip, and it's a good one." + +Brooks threw away his cigarette and held out his hand. + +"It is very good advice, Mr. Bullsom," he said, "under any ordinary +circumstances. I wish I could take it. Good-night." + +Mr. Bullsom grasped his hand. + +"You're not offended, my boy?" he asked, anxiously. + +"Not I," Brooks answered, heartily. "I'm not such an idiot." + +"I don't want to take any liberties," Bullsom said, "and I'm afraid I +forget sometimes who you are, but that's your fault, seeing that you +will call yourself only Mr. Kingston Brooks when you're by rights a +lord. But if you were the Prince of Wales I'd still say that my advice +was good. Forgive your father anything you've got against him, and +start afresh." + +"Well, I'll think about it," Brooks promised. + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A QUESTION AND AN ANSWER + +Brooks returned to London to find the annual exodus already commenced. +Lady Caroom and Sybil had left for Homburg. Lord Arranmore was yachting +in the Channel. Brooks settled down to work, and found it a little +wearisome. + +He saw nothing of Mary Scott, whose duties now brought her seldom to the +head office. He began to think that she was avoiding him, and there +came upon him about this time a sense of loneliness to which he was +sometimes subject. He fought it with hard work--early and late, till +the colour left his cheeks and black lines bordered his eyes. They +pressed him to take a holiday, but he steadily declined. Mr. Bullsom +wrote begging him to spend a week-end at least at Woton Hall. He +refused this and all other invitations. + +One day he took up a newspaper which was chiefly concerned with the +doings of fashionable people, and Lady Caroom's name at once caught his +eye. He read that her beautiful daughter Lady Sybil was quite the belle +of Homburg, that the Duke of Atherstone was in constant attendance, that +an interesting announcement might at any moment be made. He threw aside +the paper and looked thoughtfully out into the stuffy little street, +where even at night the air seemed stifling and unwholesome. After all, +was he making the best of his life? He had started a great work. +Hundreds and thousands of his fellow creatures would be the better for +it. So far all was well enough. But personally--was this entire +self-abnegation necessary?--was he fulfilling his duty to himself? was +he not rather sacrificing his future to a prejudice--an idea? In any +case he knew that it was too late to retract. He had renounced his +proper position in life, it was too late for him now to claim it. And +there had gone with it--Sybil. After all, why should he arrogate to +himself judgment? The sins of his father were not his concern. It was +chiefly he who suffered by his present attitude, yet he had chosen it +deliberately. He could not draw back. He had cut himself off from her +world--he saw now the folly of his ever for a moment having been drawn +into it. It must be a chapter closed. + +The weeks passed on, and his loneliness grew. One day the opening of +still another branch brought him for a moment into contact with Mary +Scott. She too was looking pale, but her manner was bright, even +animated. She seemed to feel none of the dejection which had stolen +away from him the whole flavour of life. Her light easy laugh and +cheerful conversation were like a tonic to him. He remembered those +days at Medchester After all, she was the first woman whom he had ever +looked upon as a comrade, whom he had ever taken out of her sex and +considered singly. + +She spoke of his ill-looks kindly and with some apprehension. + +"I am all right," he assured her, "but a little dull. Take pity on me +and come out to dinner one night this week." + +They dined in the annex of a fashionable restaurant practically out of +doors--a cool green lawn for a carpet and a fountain playing close at +hand. Mary wore a white dinner-gown, gossamer-like and airy. Her rich +brown hair was tastefully arranged, her voice had never seemed to him so +soft and pleasant. All around was the hum of cheerful conversation. A +little world of people seemed to be there whose philosophy of life after +all was surely the only true one, where hearts were light with the joy +of the moment. The dinner was carefully served, the wine, which in his +solitude he had neglected, stole through his veins with a pleasant +warmth. Brooks felt his nerves relax, the light came back to his eyes +and the colour to his cheeks. Their conversation grew brighter--almost +gay. They both carefully avoided all mention of their work--it was a +holiday. The burden of his too carefully thought out life seemed to +pass away. Brooks felt that his youth was coming to him a little late, +but with delicious freshness. + +He smoked a cigarette and sipped his coffee, glancing every now and then +at his companion with approving eyes. For Mary, whose dress was so +seldom a matter of moment to her, chanced to look her best that night. +The delicate pallor of her cheeks under the rich tone of her hair seemed +quite apart from any suggestion of ill-health, her eyes were wonderfully +full and soft, a quaint pearl ornament hung by a little gold chain from +her slender, graceful neck. A sort of dreamy content came over Brooks. +After all, why should he throw himself in despair against the gates of +that other world, outside which he himself had elected to dwell? It was +only madness for him to think of Sybil. While Lord Arranmore lived he +must remain Kingston Brooks--and for Kingston Brooks it seemed that even +friendship with her was forbidden. He could live down those memories. +They were far better crushed. He thought of that moment in Mary's +sitting-room, that one moment of her self-betrayal, and his heart beat +with an unaccustomed force. Why not rob her of the bitterness of that +memory? He looked at the white hand resting for a moment on the table +so close to his, and a sudden impulse came over him to snatch it up, to +feel his loneliness fade away for ever before the new light in her face. + +"Let us go and sit on the other side of the lawn," he said, leaning over +towards her. "We can hear the music better." + +They found a quiet seat where the music from the main restaurant reached +them, curiously mingled with the jingling of cab bells from Piccadilly. +Brooks leaned over and took her hand. "Mary," he said, "will you marry +me?" + +She looked at him as though expecting to find in his face some vague +sign of madness, some clue to words which seemed to her wholly +incomprehensible. But he had all the appearance of being in earnest. +His eyes were serious, his fingers had tightened over hers. She drew a +little away, and every vestige of colour had vanished from her cheeks. + +"Marry you?" she exclaimed. + +He bent over her, and he laughed softly in the darkness. A mad impulse +was upon him to kiss her, but he resisted it. + +"Why not? Does it sound so dreadful?" + +She drew her fingers away slowly but with determination. + +"I had hoped," she said, "that you would have spared me this." + +"Spared you!" he repeated. "I do not understand. Spared you!" + +She looked at him with flashing eyes. + +"Oh, I suppose I ought to thank you," she said, bitterly. "Only I do +not. I cannot. You were kinder when you joined with me and helped me +to ignore--that hateful moment. That was much kinder." + +"Upon my honour, Mary," Brooks declared, earnestly, "I do not understand +you. I have not the least idea what you mean." + +She looked at him incredulously. + +"You have asked me to marry you," she said. "Why?" + +"Because I care for you." + +"Care for me? Does that mean that you--love me?" + +"Yes." + +She noted very well that moment's hesitation. + +"That is not true," she declared. "Oh, I know. You ask me out of +pity--because you cannot forget. I suppose you think it kindness. I +don't! It is hateful!" + +A light broke in upon him. He tried once more to take her hand, but she +withheld it. + +"I only half understand you, Mary," he said, earnestly, "but I can +assure you that you are mistaken. As to asking you out of pity--that is +ridiculous. I want you to be my wife. We care for the same things--we +can help one another--and I seem to have been very lonely lately." + +"And you think," Mary said, with a curious side-glance at him, "that I +should cure your loneliness. Thank you. I am very happy as I am. +Please forget everything you have said, and let us go." + +Brooks was a little bewildered--and manlike a little more in earnest. + +"For some reason or other," he said, "you seem disinclined to take me +seriously. I cannot understand you, Mary. At any rate you must answer +me differently. I want you to be my wife. I am fond of you--you know +that--and I will do my best to make you happy." + +"Thank you," Mary said, hardly. "I am sorry, but I must decline your +offer--absolutely. Now, let us go, shall we?" + +She would have risen, but he laid his hand firmly upon her shoulder. + +"Not till I have some sort of explanation," he said. "Is it that you do +not care for me, Mary?" + +She turned round upon him with colour enough in her cheeks and a strange +angry light burning in her eyes. + +"You might have spared me that also," she exclaimed. "You are +determined to humiliate me, to make me remember that hateful afternoon +in my rooms--oh, I can say it if I like--when I kissed you. I knew then +that sooner or later you would make up your mind that it was your duty +to ask me to marry you. Only you might have done it by letter. It +would have been kinder. Never mind. You have purged your conscience, +and you have got your answer. Now let us go." + +Brooks looked at her for a moment amazed beside himself with wonder and +self-reproach. + +"Mary," he said, quietly, "I give you my word that nothing which I have +said this evening has the least connection with that afternoon. I give +you my word that not for a moment have I thought of it in connection +with what I have said to you to-night." + +She looked at him steadfastly, and her eyes were full of things which he +could not understand. + +"When did you make up your mind--to ask me this?" + +He pointed to the little table where they had been sitting. + +Only a few minutes ago. I confess it was an impulse. I think that I +realized as we sat there how dear you had grown to me, Mary--how dull +life was without you." + +"You say these things to me," she exclaimed, "when all the time you love +another woman." + +He started a little. She smiled bitterly as she saw the shadow on his +face. + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean," she said, deliberately, "that you love Sybil Caroom. Is it +not true?" + +His head drooped a little. He had never asked himself even so much as +this. He was face to face now with all the concentrated emotions which +lately had so much disturbed his life. The problem which he had so +sedulously avoided was forced upon him ruthlessly, with almost barbaric +simplicity. + +"I do not know," he answered, vaguely. "I have never asked myself. I +do not wish to ask myself. Why do you speak of her? She is not of our +world, the world to which I want to belong. I want to forget her." + +"You are a little mad to-night, my friend," Mary said. "To-morrow you +will feel differently. If Sybil Caroom cares for you, what does it +matter which world she belongs to? She is not the sort of girl to be +bound by old-fashioned prejudices. But I do not understand you at all +to-night. You are not yourself. I think that you are--a little cruel." +"Cruel?" he repeated. + +Her face darkened. + +"Oh, it is only natural," she said, with a note of suppressed passion in +her how tone. "It is just the accursed egotism of your sex. What right +have you to make us suffer so--to ask me to marry you--and sit by my +side and wonder whether you care for another woman? Can't you see how +humiliating it all is? It is an insult to ask a woman to marry you to +cure your loneliness, to make you a home to settle your indecision. It +is an insult to ask a woman to marry you for any reason except that you +care for her more than any other woman in the world, and can tell her so +trustfully, eagerly. Please to put me in a cab at once, and never speak +of these things again." + +She was half-way across the lawn before he could stop her, her head +thrown back, carrying herself proudly and well, moving as it seemed to +him with a sort of effortless dignity wholly in keeping with the vigour +of her words. He obeyed her literally. There was nothing else for him +to do. His slight effort to join her in the cab she firmly repulsed, +holding out her hand and speaking a few cheerful words of thanks for her +evening's entertainment. And when the cab rolled away Brooks felt +lonelier than ever. + + + +CHAPTER X + +LADY SYBIL SAYS "YES" + +The carriage plunged into the shadow of the pine-woods, and commenced +the long uphill ascent to Saalburg. Lady Caroom put down her parasol +and turned towards Sybil, whose eyes were steadfastly fixed upon the +narrow white belt of road ahead. + +"Now, Sybil," she said, "for our talk." + +"Your talk," Sybil corrected her, with a smile. + +I'm to be listener." + +"Oh, it may not be so one-sided after all," Lady Caroom declared. "And +we had better make haste, or that impetuous young man of yours will come +pounding after us on his motor before we know where we are. What are +you going to do about him, Sybil?" + +"I don't know." + +"Well, you'll have to make up your mind. He's getting on my nerves. +You must decide one way or another." + +Sybil sighed. + +"He's quite the nicest young man I know--of his class," she remarked. + +"Exactly," Lady Caroom assented. "And though I think you will admit +that I am one of the least conventional of mothers, I must really say I +don't think that it is exactly a comfortable thing to do to marry a man +who is altogether outside one's own circle." + +"Mr. Brooks," Sybil said, "is quite as well bred as Atherstone." + +"He is his equal in breeding and in birth," Lady Caroom declared. "You +know all about him. I admit," she continued, "that it sounds like a +page out of a novel. But it isn't. The only pity is--from one point of +view--that it makes so little difference." + +"You think," Sybil asked, "that he will really keep his word--that he +will not be reconciled with Lord Arranmore?" + +"I am sure of it, my dear," Lady Caroom answered. "Unless a miracle +happens, he will continue to be Mr. Kingston Brooks for the next ten or +fifteen years, for Lord Arranmore's lifetime, and you know that they are +a long-lived race. So you see the situation remains practically +unaltered by what I have told you. Mr. Kingston Brooks is a great +favourite of mine. I am very fond of him indeed. But I very much +doubt--even if he should ask you--whether you would find your position +as his wife particularly comfortable. You and I, Sybil, have no secrets +from one another. I wish you would tell me exactly how you feel about +him." + +Sybil smiled--a little ruefully. + +"If I knew--exactly," she answered, "I should know exactly what to do. +But I don't. You know how uninteresting our set of young men are as a +rule. Well, directly I met Mr. Brooks at Enton I felt that he was +different. He interested me very much. Then I have always wanted to do +something useful, to get something different into my life, and he found +me exactly the sort of work I wanted. But he has never talked to me as +though he cared particularly though I think that he does a little." + +"It is easy to see," Lady Caroom remarked, "that you are not head over +ears in love." + +"Mother," Sybil answered, "do you believe that girls often do fall head +over ears in love? If Mr. Brooks and I met continually, and if he and +his father were reconciled, well, I think it would be quite easy for me +very soon to care for him a great deal. If even now he had followed me +here, was with us often, and showed that he was really very fond of me, +I think that I should soon be inclined to return it--perhaps even--I +don't know--to risk marrying him, and giving up our ordinary life. But +as it is I like to think of him, I should like him to be here; but I am +not, as you say, head over ears in love with him." + +"And now about Atherstone?" Lady Caroom said. + +"Well, Atherstone has improved a great deal," Sybil answered, +thoughtfully. "There are a great many things about him which I like +very much. He is always well dressed and fresh and nice. He enjoys +himself without being dissipated, and he is perfectly natural. He is +rather boyish perhaps, but then he is young. He is not afraid to laugh, +and I like the way he enters into everything. And I think I like his +persistence." + +"As his wife," Lady Caroom said, "you would have immense opportunities +for doing good. He has a great deal of property in London, besides +three huge estates in Somerset." + +"That is a great consideration," Sybil said, earnestly. "I shall always +be thankful that I met Mr. Brooks. He made me think in a practical way +about things which have always troubled me a little. I should hate to +seem thoughtless or ungrateful to him. Will you tell me something, +mother?" Of course." + +"Do you think that he cares--at all?" + +I think he does--a little! + +"Enough to be reconciled with his father for my sake?" + +"No! Not enough for that," Lady Caroom answered. + +Sybil drew a little breath. + +"I think," she said, "that that decides me." + +The long ascent was over at last. They pulled up before the inn, in +front of which the proprietor was already executing a series of low +bows. Before they could descend there was a familiar sound from behind, +and a young man, in a grey flannel suit and Panama hat, jumped from his +motor and came to the carriage door. + +"Don't be awfully cross!" he exclaimed, laughing. "You know you half +promised to come with me this afternoon, so I couldn't help having a +spin out to see whether I could catch you up. Won't you allow me, Lady +Caroom? The step is a little high." + +"It isn't any use being cross with you," Sybil remarked. "It never +seems to make any impression." + +"I am terribly thick-skimmed," he answered, "when I don't want to +understand. Will you ladies have some tea, or come and see how the +restoration is getting on?" + +"We were proposing to go and see what the German Emperor's idea of a +Roman camp was," Sybil answered. + +"Oh, you can't shake me off now, can you, Lady Caroom?" he declared, +appealing to her. "We'll consider it an accident that you found me +here, if you like, but it is in reality a great piece of good fortune +for you." + +"And why, may I ask?" Sybil inquired, with uplifted eyebrows. + +"Oh, I'm an authority on this place--come here nearly every day to give +the director, as he calls himself, some hints. Come along, Lady Caroom. +I'll show you the baths and the old part of the outer wall." + +Lady Caroom very soon had enough of it. She sat down upon a tree and +brought out her sketchbook. + +"Give me a quarter of an hour, please," she begged, "not longer. I want +to be home for tea." + +They strolled off, Atherstone turning a little nervously to Sybil. + +"I say, we've seen the best part of the ruins," he remarked. "The +renovation's hideous. Let's go in the wood--and I'll show you a +squirrel's nest." + +Sybil hesitated. Her thoughts for a moment were in confusion. Then she +sighed once and turned towards the wood. + +"I have never seen a squirrel's nest," she said. "Is it far?" + +Lady Caroom put her sketch away as she heard their approaching +footsteps, and looked up. Atherstone's happiness was too ridiculously +apparent. He came straight over to her. + +"You'll give her to me, won't you?" he exclaimed. "'Pon my word, she +shall be the happiest woman in England if I can make her so. I'm +perfectly certain I'm the happiest man." + +Lady Caroom pressed her daughter's hand, and they all turned to descend +the hill. + +"Of course I'm charmed," Lady Caroom said. "Sybil makes me feel so +elderly. But I don't know what I shall do for a chaperon now." + +Atherstone laughed. + +"I'm your son-in-law," he said. "I can take you out." + +Sybil shook her head. + +"No, you won't," she declared. "The only woman I have ever been really +jealous of is mother. She has a way of absorbing all the attention from +every one when she is around. I'm not going to have her begin with +you." + +"I feel," Atherstone said, "like the man who married a twin--said he +never tried to tell the difference, you know, when a pal asked him how +he picked out his own wife." + +"If you think," Sybil said, severely, "that you have made any +arrangements of that sort I take it all back. You are going to marry +me, if you behave yourself." + +He sighed. + +"Three months is a beastly long time," he said. + +Lady Caroom drove back alone. The motor whizzed by her half-way down +the hill--Sybil holding her hat with both hands, her hair blowing about, +and her cheeks pink with pleasure. She waved her hand gaily as she went +by, and then clutched her hat again. Lady Caroom watched them till they +were out of sight, then she found herself looking steadfastly across the +valley to the dark belt of pine-clad hills beyond. She could see +nothing very clearly, and there was a little choking in her throat. +They were both there, father and son. Once she fancied that at last he +was holding out his arms towards her--she sat up in the carriage with a +little cry which was half a sob. When she drove through the hotel gates +it was he who stood upon the steps to welcome her. + + + +CHAPTER XI + +BROOKS HEARS THE NEWS + +Unchanged! Her first eager glance into his face told her that. Waxen +white, his lips smiled their courteous greeting upon her, his tone was +measured and cold as ever. She set her teeth as she rose from her seat, +and gathered her skirts in her hand. + +"You, too, a pilgrim?" she exclaimed. "I thought you preferred salt +water." + +"We had a pleasant fortnight's yachting," he answered. "Then I went +with Hennibul to Wiesbaden, and I came on here to see you. + +"Have you met Sybil and Atherstone?" she asked him. + +"Yes," he answered, gravely. + +"Come into my room," she said, "and I will give you some tea. These +young people are sure to have it on the terrace. I will join you when I +have got rid of some of this dust." + +He was alone for ten minutes. At the end of that time she came out +through the folding-doors with the old smile upon her lips and the old +lithesomeness in her movements. He rose and watched her until she had +settled down in her low chair. + +"So Sybil is going to marry Atherstone!" + +"Yes. He really deserves it, doesn't he? He is a very nice boy." + +Arranmore shrugged his shoulders. + +"What an everlasting fool Brooks is," he said, in a low tone. + +"He keeps his word," she answered. "It is a family trait with you, +Arranmore. You are all stubborn, all self-willed, self-centred, +selfish!" + +"Thank you!" + +"You can't deny it." + +I won't try. I suppose it is true. Besides, I want to keep you in a +good humour." + +"Do tell me why!" + +"If Sybil is going to be married you can't live alone." + +"I won't admit that, but what about it? Do you know of a nice +respectable companion?" + +"Myself." + +She shook her head. + +"You may be nice," she answered, "but you certainly aren't respectable." + +"I am what you make me," he answered, in a low tone. "Catherine! A +moment ago you accused me of stubbornness. What about yourself?" + +"I?" + +"Yes, you. You have been the one woman of my life. You are free, you +know that there is no other man who could make you happy as I could, yet +you will not come to me--for the sake of an idea. If I am heartless +and callous, an infidel, an egotist, whatever you choose, at least I +love you. You need never fear me. You would always be safe." + +She shook her head. + +"Arranmore," she said, "this is so painful to me. Do let us cease to +discuss it. I have tried so hard to make you understand how I feel. I +cannot alter. It is impossible!" + +"You tempt me," he cried, "to play the hypocrite." + +"No, I do not, Arranmore," she answered, gently, "for there is no acting +in this world which would deceive me." + +"You do not doubt that I should make you a good husband?" + +"I believe you would," she answered, "but I dare not try it." + +"And this is the woman," he murmured, sadly, "who calls me stubborn." + +Tea was brought in. Afterwards they walked in the gardens together. +The band was playing, and they were surrounded on all sides by +acquaintances. A great personage stopped and talked to them for a +while. Lady Caroom admitted the news of Sybil's engagement. After that +every one stopped to express pleasure. It was not until the young +people appeared themselves, and at once monopolized all attention, that +Arranmore was able to draw his companion away into comparative solitude. + +"Do you by any chance correspond with Brooks?" he asked her. + +She shook her head. + +"No!" she answered. "I was thinking of that. I should like him to know +from one of us. Can't you write him, Arranmore?" + +"I could," he answered, "but it would perhaps come better from you. +Have you ever had any conversation with him about Sybil?" + +"Once," she answered, "yes! + +"Then you can write--it will be better for you to write. I should like +to ask you a question if I may." + +"Yes." + +"Have you any idea whether the news will be in any way a blow to him?" + +"I think perhaps it may," she admitted. + +Arranmore was silent. She watched him half eagerly, hoping for some +look, some expression of sympathy. She was disappointed. His face did +not relax. It seemed almost to grow harder. + +"He has only himself to blame," he said, slowly. "But for this +ridiculous masquerading his chance was as good as Atherstone's. +Quixoticism such as his is an expensive luxury." + +She shivered a little. + +"That sounds hard-hearted," she said. "He is doing what he thinks +right." + +Then Lord Arranmore told her what he had told Brooks himself. + +"My son is quite a model young man," he said, "but he is a prig. He +thinks too much about what is right and wrong, about what is due to +himself, and he values his own judgment too highly. However, I have no +right to complain, for it is he who suffers, not I. May I dine at your +table to-night? I came over alone." + +"Certainly." + +They were interrupted a few minutes later by Sybil and Atherstone, and a +small host of their friends. But in consequence of Lord Arranmore's +visit to Homburg, Brooks a few days later received two letters. The +first was from Lord Arranmore. + +"RITTER's HOTEL. + +"DEAR MR. BROOKS, + +"The news which I believe Lady Caroom is sending you to-day may perhaps +convince you of the folly of this masquerading. I make you, therefore, +the following offer. I will leave England for at least five years on +condition that you henceforth take up your proper position in society, +and consent to such arrangements as Mr. Ascough and I may make. In any +case I was proposing to myself a somewhat extensive scheme of travel, +and the opportunity seems to me a good one for you to dispense with an +incognito which may lead you some day into even worse complications. I +trust that for the sake of other people with whom you may be brought +into contact you will accept the arrangement which I propose. + +"I remain, + +"Yours faithfully, + +"ARRANMORE." + +The other letter was from Lady Caroom. + +"RITTER'S HOTEL. + +"MY DEAR 'MR. BROOKS,' + +"I want to be the first to tell you of Sybil's engagement to the Duke of +Atherstone, which took place this afternoon. He has been a very +persistent suitor, and he is a great favourite, I think, deservedly, +with every one. He will, I am sure, make her very happy. + +"I understand that you are still in London. You must find this weather +very oppressive. Take my advice and don't overwork yourself. No cause +in the world, however good, is worth the sacrifice of one's health. + +"I hope that my news will not distress you. You realized, of course, +that your decision to remain known, or rather unknown, as Kingston +Brooks, made it at some time or other inevitable, and I hope to see a +good deal of you when we return to town, and that you will always +believe that I am your most sincere friend, + +"CATHERINE CAROOM." + +Brooks laid the two letters down with a curious mixture of sensations. +He knew that a very short time ago he might have considered himself +brokenhearted, and he knew that as a matter of fact he was nothing of +the sort. He answered Lady Caroom's letter first. + +"27, JERMYN STREET, W. + +"DEAR LADY CAROOM, + +"It was very kind of you to write to me, and to send me the news of +Sybil's engagement so promptly. I wish her most heartily every +happiness. After all, it is the most suitable thing which could have +happened. + +"You are right in your surmise. After our conversation I realized quite +plainly that under my present identity I could not possibly think of +Lady Sybil except as a very charming and a very valued friend. I was, +therefore, quite prepared for the news which you have sent me. + +"I am going for a few days' golf and sea-bathing into Devonshire, so +don't waste too much sympathy upon me. My best regards to Lady Sybil. +Just now I imagine that she is overwhelmed with good wishes, but if she +will add mine to the number, I can assure you and her that I offer them +most heartily. + +"Yours most sincerely, + +"KINGSTON BRGOKS." + +"P.S.--Have you heard that your friend the Bishop is going to bring a +Bill before the House of Lords which is to exterminate me altogether?" + +Lady Caroom sighed for a moment as she read the letter, but immediately +afterwards her face cleared. + +"After all, I think it is best," she murmured, "and Atherstone is such a +dear." + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE PRINCE OF SINNERS SPEAKS OUT + +The bishop sat down amidst a little murmur of applause. He glanced up +and saw that his wife had heard his speech, and he noted with +satisfaction the long line of reporters, for whose sake he had spoken +with such deliberation and with occasional pauses. He felt that his +indictment of this new charitable departure had been scathing and +logical. He was not altogether displeased to see Brooks himself in the +Strangers' Gallery. That young man would be better able to understand +now the mighty power of the Church which he had so wantonly disregarded. + +But it was not the bishop's speech which had filled Brooks with dismay, +which had made his heart grow suddenly cold within him. For this he had +been prepared--but not for the adversary who was now upon his feet +prepared to address the House. At least, he said to himself, bitterly, +he might have been spared this. It was Lord Arranmore, who, amidst some +murmurs of surprise, had risen to address the House--pale, composed, +supercilious as ever. And Brooks felt that what he could listen to +unmoved from the Bishop of Beeston would be hard indeed to bear from +this man. + +The intervention of Lord Arranmore so early in the debate was wholly +unexpected. Every one was interested, and those who knew him best +prepared themselves for a little mild sensation. The bishop smiled to +himself with the satisfaction of a man who has secured a welcome but +unexpected ally. Lord Arranmore's views as to charity and its +dispensation were fairly well known. + +So every one listened--at first with curiosity, afterwards with +something like amazement. The bishop abandoned his expression of gentle +tolerance for one of manifest uneasiness. It seemed scarcely credible +that he heard aright. For the Marquis of Arranmore's forefinger was +stretched out towards him--a gesture at once relentless and scornful, +and the words to which he was forced to listen were not pleasant ones to +hear. + +"It is such sentiments as these," the Marquis of Arranmore was +saying--and his words came like drops of ice, slow and distinct--"such +sentiments as these voiced by such men as the Lord Bishop of Beeston in +such high places as this where we are now assembled, which have created +and nourished our criminal classes, which have filled our prisons and +our workhouses, and in time future if his lordship's theology is correct +will people Hell. And as for the logic of it, was ever the intelligence +of so learned and august a body of listeners so insulted before? Is +charity, then, for the deserving and the deserving only? Are we to put +a premium upon hypocrisy, to pass by on the other side from those who +have fallen, and who by themselves have no power to rise? This is +precisely his lordship's proposition. The one great charitable +institution of our times, founded upon a logical basis, carried out with +a devotion and a self-sacrifice beyond all praise, he finds pernicious +and pauperizing, because, forsooth, the drunkard and criminals are +welcome to avail themselves of it, because it seeks to help those who +save for such help must remain brutes themselves and a brutalizing +influence to others." + +There was a moment's deep silence. To those who were watching the +speaker closely, and amongst them Brooks, was evident some sign of +internal agitation. Yet when he spoke again his manner was, if +possible, more self-restrained than ever. He continued in a low clear +tone, without any further gesture and emotion. + +"My lords, I heard a remark not intended for my ears, upon my rising, +indicative of surprise that I should have anything to say upon such a +subject as this. Lest my convictions and opinions should seem to you +to be those of an outsider, let me tell you this. You are listening to +one who for twelve years lived the life of this unhappy people, dwelt +amongst them as a police-court missionary--one who was driven even into +some measure of insanity by the horrors he saw and tasted, and who +recovered only by an ignominious flight into a far-off country. His +lordship the Bishop of Beeston has shown you very clearly how little he +knows of the horrors which seethe beneath the brilliant life of this +wonderful city. He has brought it upon himself and you--that one who +does know shall tell you something of the truth of these things." + +There was an intense and breathless silence. This was an assembly +amongst whom excitement was a very rare visitant. But there were many +there now who sat still and spellbound with eyes riveted upon the +speaker. To those who were personally acquainted with him a certain +change in his appearance was manifest. A spot of colour flared in his +pale cheeks. There was a light in his eyes which no one had ever seen +there before. After years of self-repression, of a cynicism partly +artificial, partly inevitable, the natural man had broken out once more, +stung into life by time smooth platitudes of the great churchman +against whom his attack was directed. He was reckless of time fact +that Lady Caroom, Brooks, and many of his acquaintances were in the +Strangers' Gallery. For the motion before the House was one to obtain +legal and ecclesiastical control over all independent charities +appealing to the general public for support, under cover of which the +Church, in the person of the Bishop of Beeston, had made a solemn and +deliberate attack upon Brooks' Society, Brooks himself, its aims and +management. + +As the words fell, deliberately, yet without hesitation, from his lips, +vivid, scathing, forceful, there was not one there but knew that this +man spoke of the things which he had felt. The facts he marshalled +before them were appalling, but not a soul doubted them. It was truth +which he hurled at them, truth before which the Bishop sat back in his +seat and felt his cheeks grow paler and his eyes more full of trouble. +A great deal of it they had heard before, but never like this--never had +it been driven home into their conscience so that doubt or evasion was +impossible. And this man, who was he? They rubbed their eyes and +wondered. Ninth Marquis of Arranmore, owner of great estates, +dilettante, sportsman, cynic, latter-day sinner--or an apostle touched +with fire from Heaven to open men's eyes, gifted for a few brief minutes +with the tongue of a saintly Demosthenes. Those who knew him gaped like +children and wondered. And all the time his words stung them like drops +of burning rain. + +"This," he concluded at last, "is the Hell which burns for ever under +this great city, and it is such men as his lordship the Bishop of +Beeston who can come here and speak of their agony in well-rounded +periods and congratulate you and himself upon the increasing number of +communicants in the East End--who stands in the market-place of the +world with stones for starving people. But I, who have been down +amongst those fires, I, who know, can tell you this: Not all the +churches of Christ, not all the religious societies ever founded, not +all the combined labours of all the missionaries who ever breathed, +will quench or even abate those flames until they go to their labours in +the name of humanity alone, and free themselves utterly from all the +cursed restrictions and stipulations of their pet creed. Starving men +will mock at the mention of a God of Justice, men who are in torture +body and soul are scarcely likely to respond to the teachings of a God +of Love. Save the bodies of this generation, and the souls of the next +may be within your reach." + +They thought then that he had finished. He paused for an unusually long +time. When he spoke again he seemed to have wholly regained his usual +composure. The note of passion had passed from his tone. His cheeks +were once more of waxen pallor. The deliberately-chosen words fell with +a chill sarcasm from his lips. + +"His lordship the Bishop of Beeston," he said, "has also thought fit, on +the authority, I presume, of Mr. Lavilette and his friends, to make +slighting reference to the accounts of the Society in question. As one +of the largest subscribers to that Society, may I be allowed to set at +rest his anxieties? Before many days the accounts from its very +earliest days, which have all the time been in the hands of an eminent +firm of accountants, will be placed before the general public. In the +meantime let me tell you this. I am willing to sign every page of +them. I pledge my word to their absolute correctness. The author of +this movement has from the first, according to my certain knowledge, +devoted a considerable part of his own income to the work. If others +who are in the enjoyment of a princely stipend for their religious +labours"--he looked hard at the bishop--"were to imitate this course of +action, I imagine that there are a good many charitable institutions +which would not now be begging for donations to keep them alive." + +He sat down without peroration, and almost immediately afterwards left +the House. The first reading of the bishop's Bill was lost by a large +majority. + +Arranmore sat by himself in his study, and his face was white and drawn. +A cigarette which he had lit on entering the room had burnt out between +his fingers. This sudden upheaval of the past, coming upon him with a +certain spasmodic unexpectedness, had shaken his nerves. He had not +believed himself capable of anything of the sort. The unusual +excitement was upon him still. All sorts of memories and fancies long +ago buried, thronged in upon him. So he sat there and suffered, +striving in vain to crush them, whilst faces mocked him from the +shadows, and familiar voices rang strangely in his ears. He scarcely +heard the softly-opened door. The light footsteps and the rustling of +skirts had their place amongst the throng of torturing memories. But +his eyes--surely his eyes could not mock him. He started to his feet. + +"Catherine!" + +She did not speak at once, but all sorts of things were in her eyes. He +ground his teeth together, and made one effort to remain his old self. + +"You have come to offer--your sympathy. How delightful of you. The +bishop got on my nerves, you know, and I really am not answerable for +what I said. Catherine!" + +She threw her arms around his neck. + +"You dear!" she exclaimed. "I am not afraid of you any more. Kiss me, +Philip, and don't talk nonsense, because I shan't listen to you." + +Brooks drove up in hot haste. The butler stopped him respectfully. + +"His lordship is particularly engaged, sir." + +"He will see me," Brooks answered. "Please announce me--Lord Kingston +of Ross!" + +"I beg your pardon, sir," the man stammered. + +"Lord Kingston of Ross," Brooks repeated, casting off for ever the old +name as though it were a disused glove. "Announce me at once." + +It was the Arranmore trick of imperiousness, and the man recognized it. +He threw open the study door with trembling fingers, but he was careful +to knock first. + +"Lord Kingston of Ross." + +He walked to his father with outstretched hand. + +"You were right, sir," he said, simply. "I was a prig!" + +They stood for a moment, their hands locked. It was a silent greeting, +but their faces were eloquent. Brooks looked from his father to Lady +Caroom and smiled. + +"I could not wait," he said. "I was forced to come to you at once. +But I think that I will go now and pay another call." + +He stood outside on the kerb while they fetched him a hansom. The fresh +night wind blew in his face, cool and sweet. From Piccadilly came the +faint hum of tram, and the ceaseless monotonous beat of hurrying +footsteps. The hansom pulled up before him with a jerk. He sprang +lightly in. + +"No. 110, Crescent Flats, Kensington." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PRINCE OF SINNERS*** + + +******* This file should be named 16971.txt or 16971.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/9/7/16971 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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