Poor Relations

w beginning to believe that George knew how grave it was. Perhaps his decision to go on foot was not altogether wise, for he was tired out by a convulsive day, and he had never experienced before s

ly, it was his dinner hour, and if he waited to eat his dinner before tackling Hugh, he should undoubtedly tackle him afterward in much too generous a frame of mind. Yes, it would be wiser to go home at once, have a good dinner, and start for Arizona to-morrow morning. The longer he contemplated it, the less he liked the way he had been beguiled into visiting Hugh. If the-the young bounder-no, really bounder was not too strong a word-if the young bounder was in trouble, why could he not have come forward openly and courageously to the one relation who could help him? Why had he again relied upon his mother's fondness, and why had she, as always, chosen the indirect channel by writing to George rather than to himself? The fact of the matter was that his mother and George and Hugh possessed similar loose conceptions of integrity, a

far as to say that, however outwardly uncomfortable they might appear, like enthusiastic spectators, they were probably all aglow within. If John had been asked whether he liked an interior of pink lampshades and brass gongs, he would have replied emphatically in the negative; but on this chi

m, sir?" she inquired. "I'll info

e was nothing so well calculated to disturb even a tranquil conscience as

ishes to speak to him for a

r the maid accepted his instructions fearfully and was so much flustered by them that she forgot to turn up the gas in the drawing-room, of which John was glad; he assured himself that the heavily drape

t is

r from

ur soup first. I wouldn't let

eming longer than usual in his anxiety, his long, thin neck craning forward like an apprehen

rp twinge of resentment at Hugh's daring to sport a dinner jacket with as

thought you were a detective, at least. Come in and have some

told about Mrs. Fenton's attitude toward Hugh, he did not t

uting. "One of my brot

the objection, it was at once drowned in the boisterous hospitality of Aubrey, who came beaming into the hall-a well set up young

an encouraging wave of his n

so hungry by now that he could not bring himself to refuse. He knew that he was displaying weakness, but he compounded with his

d to dinner. She was a well-preserved woman and reminded John of a pink crystallized pear; her frosted transformation glistened like encruste

her like this. He for his part was envying her ability to refer to Hugh without admitting his individual existence, w

brother, the writer,"

in amazement. He could not envis

ng him yet. I was referring to the dramat

n another kick under t

you, George, old bo

outrage had been perpetrated in his name, and though Hugh might kick him under the table, he should soon obtain his revenge by having Hugh kicked out of the house. John took as much pleasure in his dinner that evening as a sandbag might

oss impersonation

between the brothers, which only s

he weren't on the most cordial terms, we introduced your brother, George, as yourself. It was a compliment, really, to your public characte

ziness; I can tolerate stupidity; I can endure dissipation; but I'm damned if I'll stand being introduced as George. Port, indeed! Don't try to argue with me. You must take the consequences. Mr. Fenton, I'm sorry I allowed myself to be inveigled like this into your mother's house. I shall write to her when I get home, and I hope she will take steps to clear that impostor out. No, I won't have a cigar-though I've no doubt I shall presently receive the bill for them, unless I've also

was making for the door, wh

, old chap

ouse endearments," said John, fiercel

r, please listen. Nobody has been ordering anything in your name. You're absolutely off the lines there. Wh

n stammered. "You

hie," Aubrey advised.

n understand, can you, how it affects me to be sad

name: they merely represented maddening abstractions of relationship, and he long

in this latest affair. I'm sorry we told the mater that he was you, but the mater requi

ize with M

f ruse I should think a playwright would appre

u mutter to me about a sense of h

at George has been dragged like a red herring across the business, because it's a much more serious matter than simply in

t another glass to p

n retorted. "But I don't. I consider

agement to own up when he really is in a tight corner. However, personally I've got past minding. If I'm sen

put in. "We really ar

you that when you hawk George round London as your brother, t

ed for forgery," Hugh

y?" Joh

nod

two more glasses of port. "Cleared every hurdle like a bird and

y. "We were beaten

ndy with sherry, and drank it straight off without realiz

forged?" he brought h

n Crutc

this is horrible. And has he fo

at he did not ask for how much h

now pretty soon. In fact, I think the only thing to do is fo

experimental jok

brother of an old friend. That was one of the reasons we experimented on him-that, and also partly because I found an old check book of his. He's awfully careless, you know, is Stephen-very muc

know anything of

bout money, do they? And the mater has less idea of the wicked world

his son will be a bit of a recluse, too, before he's

now that you've come along. Nobody knows anything for certain yet. George does

that he guesses

h, Aubrey?" said Hugh, turning to

ught to tell in full,

quite apart from his being your brother, it wou

then," called

ir by the fireplace," Au

te my feelings. Begin, sir," he commanded Hugh. "Begin, and get it finished quickly, for he

me the same kind of embarrassed feeling that I get when a woman starts reciting. You're not subjective. That's the curse of all romantic writers. You want to get an objective viewpoint. You're not the only person on in this scene. I'm

impudence," J

oungest brother in the dock. In fact, I'm going the limit on your romance. At the same time I don't like to see you laying it on too thick. I'll give you your fine feelings and all that. I'll grant you your natural mortification, etcetera, etcetera. But try to see my point of view as well as your own. When you're thinki

ts rather bored if we keep the servants out of the dining-room too long, and I thin

es of his discourse, but, observing that John looked still more hurt at bei

ohnnie, I've alwa

impatience; but Hugh

e used to look at me just as some people look at the silver cups they've won for races. But when he died, all the advantages of being the youngest son died with him, and I realized that I was an encumbrance. I'm willing to grant that I was a nuisance, too, but ... however, it's no use raking up old scores.... I'm equally willing to admit that you've always treated me very decently and that I've always behaved very rottenly. I'll admit also that my tast

k up," his friend p

n. "Get on with your story while you can. I don't want to

in frost, but he knitted his brows and reg

n who can say it at all after George's port. Metempsychosis! And it's not a disease. No, no, no, no, don't you run away with the idea that it's a disease. Not at all. It's a religion. And for three years I've been wasting valuable knowledge li

ld boy, only co

a Somersetshire village seven miles from the nearest station arguing with a deaf parson about the restoration of his moldy church. Does it? Of course not. It doesn't help me when I find myself sleeping in damp sheets and woken up at seven o'clock by a cross between a gardener and a charwoman for early service. Does it? Of course not. Architecture like everything else is a good job when you'

le his friend regarded hi

urmured, and drinking two more glasses of wine, he sat back i

took Jo

hing else he tried to see if it was difficult to cash a check. It wasn't. He succeeded. But he's suspected. I helped him indirectly, but of course I don't come into the business except as an accessory

ohn's rage; and when the maid came in with a message from his hostess to ask if it would soon be conveni

isted. He spoke like an election agent who is gro

violently. "He can count on nothing

had already lost even as much life as might have been discerned in the slow freezing of a

on nothing," J

"I'll try and get that across t

edia

n and say ta-t

followed the son of the house into the drawing-room. His last glimpse of Hugh was of a mechanical figure, the only gestu

pitality, "I regret that your son has encouraged my brother to impose himself upon your good-nature. I shall

ad a mania for dangerous toys which he never could lear

feminine humanity underneath; but in the same instant the crystallization was more complete than ev

you going to take to-

imself had no more idea of what he intended

d John waited for a passing taxi, apostrophizing

interview with a fatuous brother, a loan of over thirty pounds, a winking landlady, a narrow escape from being bored to death by a Major, a dinner that gave me the sensation of being slowly buried alive, a glass of George's port

up to square matters with Stephen Crutchley, to withdraw Hugh from architecture, to intern him until Christmas at Ambles, and in the New Year to transport him to British Honduras

in with Bertram and Viola. But there was a sweet sadness in this old paved court, where a few sparrows chirped their plaintive monotone from an overarching tree, the branches of which fretted a sky of pearly blue, and whe

nothing of the lexicographer. But the subject of forgery was not to be driven away by memories of Dr. Johnson, because his friend, Dr. Dodd, suddenly jumped into the train of thought, and it was impossible not to conjure up that poor and learned gentleman's last journey to Tyburn nor to reflect how the latticed dormers on the Holborn side of the Inn were the same now as then and had actually seen Dr. Dodd go jolting past. John had often thought how incomprehensible it was that scarcely a century ago peop

the picks on Dartmoor. Hugh a convict! It might well befall thus, if his jaunty demeanor hardened Stephen's heart. Suppose that Stephen should be seized with one of those moral crises that can only be relieved by making an example of somebody? Would it not be as well to go down at once to his place in the country and try to square matters, unembarrassed by Hugh's brazen impenitence? Or was it already too late? John could not bring himself to believe that his old friend would call in the police without warning him. Stephen had always had a generous disposition, and it might well be that rather than wound John's pride by the revelation of his brother's disgrace he had made up his mind to say nothing and to give Hugh another chance: that would be like Stephen. No, he should not intrude upon his week-end; though how he was going to pass the long Sunday unless he occupied himself with something more cheerful than his own thoughts he did not know. Should he visit James and Beatrice, and take them out to lunch with a Symphony Concert to follow? No, he should never be able to keep the secret of Hugh's crime, and James would inevitably

th in humanity and my respect for my mother. Yet

rooded upon his inability to say his lines with just the emphasis he as author had required, until on the night before the opening he had left the theater and become a Salvationist. One of the loafers in the court

hought "But if I hadn't been lucky, so might I," he added, reprovingly, to himself, "though at any r

he had abandoned realistic writing before h

hey might be hopping about in Hampshire-out of reach of Harold's air-gun of course-and what a fool I am! But it's no use for me to go home and work a

, that Sunday; and after lunch John was reduced to looking at the portraits of famous dead players,

St. Martin's Lane, shook off the temptation to bore himself still more hopelessly by a visit to the National Gallery, and reached Cockspur Street. Three or fo

ce station and driving home after that interview with the forger-by this time John had discarded Hugh as a relation-not to mention Mrs. Worfolk in a taxi, and the children in a taxi, and their luggage buzzing backward and forward between Earl's Court and Hampstead in a taxi. No, he shoul

n felt as he strode along Grosvenor Road, his spirit rising with the

to look it up in the dictionary when we got home. I dare say I've lost thousands of ideas by not having a secretary at hand. I shall have to advertise-or find out in some way about a secretary. Thank heaven, neither Hilda nor Beatrice nor Eleanor nor Edith knows shorthand. But even if Edith did know shorthand, she'd be eternally occupied with the dactylography-as I suppose he'd call it-of Laurence's apostolic successes-there's another note I might make. Of course, it's nothing wonderful as a piece of wit, but I might get an epigram worth keeping, say three times a week, if I had a secretary at my elbow. I don't belie

adius. He would not even now admit to himself more than that he did not know the exact whereabouts of Camera Square. Although he really had not the remotest idea beyond its location in the extensive borough of Chelsea where Camera Square was, he wasted half-an-hour in dan

ng astonished at his ignorance. Presently, however, he passed a tobacconist's, and having bought three of the best cigars he had, which were not very good, he asked casually as he was going out the direction of Camera Square. The shopman did not know. He came to another tobacconist's, bought three more cigars, and that shopman did not know either. Gradually with a sharp sense of i

ng his shoulders in what he conceived to be the gesture

E

Squah?" Jo

ing to whistle for help; but it was really to get out a handkerchief

ill yer?" the po

is Gallic rende

nd here. Where do yo

a place

for the poor foreigners who must be lost in London every day. However, this pol

h a huge smile of comprehension. "Why, you'r

't have asked at all. Sank you

any of them, Napoleon,

rbaceous flowers and smelt of the country. Not a house on this side of the square resembled its neighbor; but Number 83 was the m

amilton is at hom

ar a canary singing, and the tinkle of tea-cups; there was also a smell of muffins and-mimosa, was it? Anyway it was

was the name?"

"How much more intelligent than that policeman.

s he bowed his head to