"Jessie, are you ill?" cried Mrs Shingle.
"No, mother, no," said Jessie, making a brave effort to recover herself.
"It is all past now."
"It was them talking in that heartless manner about those two fellows,"
cried Mrs Shingle indignantly. "What is it, John?"
"Here's another gentleman to see you, mum," said the boy.
As he spoke, Mr Fred Fraser, elaborately dressed, walked into the room,
a pull at the bell sounding through the house as he made his
salutations, and, in a light and airy way, began to converse as if they
had been the greatest intimates all along.
"Mr Thomas Fraser," said John, in a loud voice. And, in a hasty,
excited manner, Mrs Max Shingle's elder son entered the room, to look
angrily at his brother, as he saw him seated there.
"You here?" he cried sharply.
"Ya-as, I'm here, Tom," was the cool reply.
"Aunt--Jessie!" exclaimed Tom, advancing. "I by chance heard that my
step-father had come here; and, taking this as an augury that we were to
be friends once more, I followed him; but I did not expect to find my
brother here, and that I should be--"
"_De trop_," said Fred, with an irritating smile; "but you are."
Tom turned upon him sharply, but, mastering his passion, he crossed to
where Jessie was seated, and held out his hand.
"Jessie," he said, in a low, earnest voice, "you will shake hands with
me? I forgive all the past now, and wish you every happiness."
At his first words a glad light had leaped into the poor girl's eyes,
and she half raised her hand to take his; but, as he finished his
sentence, a stony rigidity stole over her, and she shrank back, letting
her hand fall upon her lap.
It was too hard to bear, and she would have given worlds to have been
able to rush from the room--anywhere, so as to be alone--and sob and
wail aloud, to relieve her bursting heart. But it was impossible. She
could not stir--only look up at Tom, as with knitted brows he stood
there, resenting her coldness.
Never once had her thoughts strayed from him; and yet he had misjudged
her so cruelly, believing that she trifled with him, that she played
with his heart, while she coquetted--behaved lightly--with his brother.
And now, after these long, weary months--after what would soon be two
years of misery--now that he had come, her heart had whispered, to tell
her that he had been wrong, and misjudged her, while he asked her pardon
for the past--a pardon that she would joy in according--she had to hear,
first that he was engaged to another, and then read in his face that his
doubts and misgivings were stronger than ever.
Jessie's heart, that had been expanding fast, like the petals of a
flower, to drink in the sunshine of hope and love and joy, seemed to
contract and shrivel up, blighted and seared, as, cold and trembling,
she sat there, while, with a look of contempt, Tom turned away.
"As you will, my fair cousin," he said, in a low, bitter voice. "I
suppose I am to call you sister some day. How the world changes?
Better poverty and truth than this." When a word would have set all
right.
He turned abruptly, and began speaking to Mrs Shingle; while Fred,
seizing the opportunity, took a seat beside Jessie on the couch, and
began to talk to her rapidly about the various trifles of the day--
chattering on, while she seemed to be listening to him, for she replied
in monosyllables, though she was striving, with every nerve strained, to
hear what was said by his brother.
Before many words had passed, though, voices were heard from without,
increasing in loudness; and Mrs Shingle started up, for it was plain
that her husband was in a towering rage.
In fact, as he came through the conservatory, he struck a handsome
jardiniere a heavy blow with his open hand, shivering it upon the
tesselated tiles of the floor.
"Hallo!" cried Dick angrily, as he entered, followed by Max, "you are
all here, are you! Why didn't you bring the wife and the servants, and
take possession? It's all right--there's plenty of room. Here, you
sir, get off that sofa!" The young men rose as he entered--Fred very
slowly, and evidently amused; while Tom's face flushed with rage.
"Oh, father!" cried Jessie, whose face had become suffused from shame
and annoyance.
"There, I know what I'm doing," he said. "Hold your tongue. You and
your mother had better be off. You'll stop? Well, then, stay."
"Is your husband subject to a little--er--er--? You know, Mrs
Richard," said Max, tapping his forehead.
"No," said Dick sharply, "he isn't. And now, may I ask, young fellows,
how it is you condescend to be here? If it's to order boots and chuck
'em on my hands for misfits, you've not come to the right shop."
"They came unknown to me," said Max hotly.
"I dessay they did," cried Dick; "but whether they did or not, they've
come to the wrong place, and, once for all, I forbid them my house."
"Come, father," said Tom sternly; while Fred took a step to Jessie's
side, and whispered--
"Dear Jessie, for heaven's sake let this make no difference to us."
She turned her eyes upon him for a moment, and Tom saw the glance; and
then, as she gazed at him, directed a look upon her of withering
contempt, beneath which she shivered.
"Don't be in too great a hurry," said Dick. "As you are here, we may as
well have it out. We don't often meet. Now, Max, my most affectionate
brother, have the goodness to say that again, and let your wife's sons
hear what sort of a man you are."
"No," said Max, "I leave now. I shall take my own steps about it."
"You will?" said Dick, looking startled.
"I shall, sir--I shall. I don't consider you are fit to be trusted.
There are such cases as inquiries in lunacy."
"Bah!" said Dick, who looked startled all the same. "Well, if you don't
say what you said to me, here out loud before them all, I shall say it
myself."
"Then I will say it!" cried Max desperately. "What I said was this: As
your uncle has hit upon some scheme for making a fortune, I have a
right, as his own brother--"
"Very own, indeed," said Dick quietly.
"To share with him in the secret."
"And what I say to it is," cried Dick--"and you can all hear me--that
what I invented with my own brains is my own property, and I won't be
bullied out of it by all the brothers in Christendom."
"Then I shall follow out my own course."
"Follow it, then," said Dick scornfully, "and let your boys come after
you."
Tom turned upon him resentfully, but merely ground his teeth; while Fred
winked, and tapped his teeth with his cane.
"I have not been idle during my interview with my poor afflicted
brother," continued Max; "and I have seen enough from his wild behaviour
and language to know that the mental disease that has been threatening
for years has now obtained such a hold that he is no longer fit to
manage his own affairs."
"I say, hold hard there!" cried Dick, looking at him in a puzzled way.
"I shall, of course, make due arrangements for the proper carrying out
of his business, and for protecting the interests of his wife and
child."
"Mr Shingle!" cried Tom, stepping forward, "this is atrocious: there
are no grounds for what you say."
"Silence, sir!" roared Max; while Dick's countenance underwent a
complete change.
"There!" cried Dick angrily, as he appealed in turn to all present;
"what did I always say? Max, you always were, and always will be, a
'umbug!"
"What?" cried Max.
"A 'umbug, sir. U-m, um--b-u-double-g, bug, 'umbug! That for you!"
cried Dick, snapping his fingers in his brother's face.
"Ah!" said Max, with a heavy sigh--"all proof of what I say--the
violence, the excitement, these strange outbursts. My poor brother!"
He took out his handkerchief, and applied it to his eyes.
Dick looked at him for a moment, then at his wife and child, and then
his face grew longer and his hand played nervously about his face.
"But, I say, Max," he cried, "you don't mean this. I'm as right in the
upper story as you are."
Max shook his head.
"My dear Richard," he said, "I'd give my right hand to know you were.
This is dreadful."
"Dreadful? It's worse than dreadful," cried Mrs Shingle, catching her
husband's arm. "Dick, make him leave the house."
"My dear Mrs Shingle," said Max deprecatingly, "this is folly. You
only excite him terribly."
"Excite him?"
"Yes, my dear," said Dick, wiping the perspiration from his face, "it do
excite me a deal. I don't know that Max ain't right; but he won't be
hard on me--Max won't. I have felt a little--little confused and upset,
you know, about my business sometimes."
"Father, it is not true," cried Jessie, running to his side, "your mind
is perfectly clear."
"I'm afraid it ain't, my dear," he said. "But your Uncle Max won't be
hard on me. No sending to asylums or that sort of thing. Just a
friendly visit from a doctor or two, and I should be soon put right."
"Whatever the cleverest medical man I could procure--a specialist on
your particular ailment--said, I should go by," replied Max sadly.
"There, mother--there, Jessie, what did I tell you?" cried Dick,
brightening up. "Blood is thicker than water. I always said it was.
He'll do what's right."
"With Heaven's help I will," said Max solemnly; while, unable to contain
his disgust, Tom walked to the window.
"Of course he will," cried Dick; "it'll be all made up now, and we shall
be the best of friends--eh?"
"Yes, dear Richard--the best of friends," said Max, glancing at Mrs
Shingle, and then shrugging his shoulders and raising his eyes.
"But about my business," said Dick uneasily. And he began to bite the
bits of tough skin at the sides of his fingers.
"Richard, are you mad?" cried Mrs Shingle excitedly. "You shall not
talk about it. You have kept it secret so long, even from your own wife
and child, and you shall not talk about it to him."
Dick smiled at her rather vacantly.
"Well, it do seem hard, mother, certainly; but it was sure to come out
some day, and it's best for one's own brother to know of it--better than
anybody else, because he'll do what's right and best for every one--you
and Jessie too, of course; for if I get worse (as I may, you know) it
would be sad, of course, for it all to go to ruin for want of a
master-mind, and no one left to take care of you--and--you come to ruin,
and not even your poor husband to make boots and shoes for you again."
He laughed hysterically, and Mrs Shingle threw her arms round his neck.
"Oh, Dick! dear Dick! what has come to you?" she cried. Then, rousing
herself, she turned angrily upon Max. "This is your doing," she cried.
"He was quite well till you came."
Max shook his head sadly, and wiped his eyes, while Fred tried to take
Jessie's hand; but she motioned him away, and stood by her father,
keenly watching all present.
"Don't talk like that, my dear," said Dick, patting his wife's shoulder;
"it hurts me, and makes me worse. Max means well, and he'll see to
things being carried out right for all of us, won't you, Max?"
"Indeed I will," said Max piously; and Tom still gazed from the window.
"But--but--but do you think, Max," said Dick, drawing his hands from his
wife and child, and speaking in a desultory, wandering way, as if trying
to collect his thoughts, "do you think that if you came in with me as
you proposed, and saw to the management of the business, so as to
relieve me and let me rest, it would be necessary for me to go anywhere
away from home?"
"We would take advice over that," said Max; "the best to be had--
medical."
"N-no," said Dick shrewdly, "I shouldn't quite like that, Max; those
very clever doctors are too clever sometimes, and they might want to
lock me up. I should be better at home with mother here and Jessie. It
would make me worse to go away."
"Oh, that could be managed, perhaps," said Max; "but you must have your
business arrangements seen to--they are so important."
"Yes, yes, of course," said Dick, who shuddered and looked horrified at
the thought of having to go away; "but you'd make time for that. You
could go halves, Max, and manage for me; and the business is growing
fast--and you'd see, even if I got worse, that Jessie and mother here
always had enough."
"I cannot bear this any longer!" cried Mrs Shingle; while Jessie stood
aghast.
"It's all right, mother--it's all right, mother. Max is a good fellow.
When he used to row me it was to do me good. And you'll take all in
hand, won't you, Max?"
"Dick, you shall not make any such arrangements," cried Mrs Shingle.
"Will no one take our side?"
"I will, aunt," cried Tom fiercely; "for I will never stand by and see
such a blackguardly wrong committed. Jessie," he cried, "you have
treated me badly, and behaved with cruel treachery to the man who loved
you very dearly; but that's all past now--and while I've hand to lift or
voice to raise, I'll never see you or yours wronged by father--or
brother," he added, fiercely turning on Fred, while Jessie uttered a
sigh of relief, and buried her face on her mother's shoulder.
"Tom," whispered Max, catching him by the shoulder, "if you are not
silent, I'll strike you down."
"Look here, if you dare to touch me," roared Tom, "I shall forget that
you are my poor weak mother's husband. I will not stand by and see my
uncle wronged. If he is unfit to attend to his affairs, aunt, see some
trustworthy lawyer; but you shall not be, imposed upon like this."
"Fred, stop him," cried Max furiously. "Turn him out of the room. He's
as mad as his uncle."
Fred hesitated for a moment, and then, stepping forward, he caught Tom
by the arm.
"Here, come out!" he cried.
"Stand back!" cried Tom huskily.
"No--out you go," cried Fred, who gathered courage on finding his
brother did not resent his attack.
"Stand back, I say!"
"Out you go," repeated Fred--"you fool!"
Tom drew back for a moment; and, as Jessie looked up, roused by a
movement on her father's, part and a cry from her mother, she saw Tom's
fist dart out from his shoulder, and then there was a dull sound, and
Fred staggered back, tripped over a mat by the open window, and fell
with a crash amongst the plants in the conservatory, bringing down an
avalanche in his fall.
As Tom turned, it was to see that a complete change had come over Dick,
who had leaped at his brother's throat, catching him by shirt front and
white cravat, bringing him upon his knees, and shaking him with all his
might.
"You cursed scoundrel--you sanctified, hypocritical cheat!" shouted
Dick, as he shook Max till he began to turn purple, and something white
fell on the floor between his knees. "Mad, am I? Send me to an asylum,
would you? Let me off if I give you half my income?"
"Help, help!" moaned Max, whose dark, smooth hair glided from his head
on to the floor as Dick shook away.
"Didn't I--say--you were--a 'umbug?" cried Dick, panting, and throwing
all his energies into a kick. "Yes, and a fool. This is my clever
brother, who let himself be taken in by the weakest, transparentest do
that ever a man tried to invent. Softening of the brain, have I! That
was a pretty hard kick for a man with that complaint!" he roared, as he
stood over his brother, threatening with his foot as if about to punish
him again. "There! Get up, and out of my house, and never darken the
doors again. You ain't a brother to me, and never were. Being born of
the same mother only half makes brothers. I'll never own you as mine.
Eh? Oh, I've done, Tom, now."
Dick made no resistance as Tom dragged him away from his brother; and
Max got up, looking very strange about the head, as he hastily picked up
and dragged on his wig.
"You--you--shall smart for this," he mumbled. "As for you, sir, never
enter my house--"
"Be off!" roared Dick; and he made at his brother again. "Be off, you
artificial sham!"
But Tom, with a look of bitter mortification in his face, restrained
him; and Max, clinging to Fred, hurried out of the door, leaving Mrs
Shingle trembling in a chair, where she had sunk; while Jessie knelt
beside her, white as ashes, and holding her hand.
It was an ignoble plight, made more absurd by Dick, who suddenly ran to
the fireplace and took the tongs, with which he picked up a
handkerchief, and ran to the door.
"Here, Saint Maximilian!" he shouted, "you've left your weeper;" and he
threw the tongs out with a crash into the hall.
"Take care!" cried a familiar voice; "_I_ haven't done anything."
"What, Hopper, old man!" cried Dick, "you there?"
"Yes, I am, and heard it all--all I could," he added, stumping into the
room.
Dick threw himself laughing into an easy chair, as he heard the door
bang; but started up directly, as he saw Tom standing silent and
mortified in the middle of the room.
"Thankye, Tom," he cried, as he held out his hand, which the young man
took for a moment and then dropped. "Ah! you're put out, of course; and
I don't wonder. It's enough to rile any young fellow with stuff in him;
and you've got that, and acted like a man."
Tom gazed at him in silence, but did not try to speak.
"He's ordered you out of his house, my lad," continued Dick. "Not
pleasant between father and son. There, I ain't going to abuse him," he
hastened to add, as Tom made a deprecating gesture; "but don't you mind
that,--you acted like a man, and your conscience will set you right.
Now, good-bye, my lad; and mind this: if you ever want a hundred pounds,
or two hundred, or five hundred pounds, you've only got to say so to
your uncle, Richard Shingle, and there it is."
"I thank you, sir," said Tom sadly; "but I shall not ask. Good-bye!"
"Good-bye?"
"Yes. I shall go abroad, and we may never meet again. I cannot stay
here now. Good-bye, aunt. Good-bye, Jessie," he cried passionately.
But she did not hear him; for, as Tom hurried to the door, she sank,
fainting, at her mother's knee, while he passed out, closely followed by
the last-comer on the scene.