Mr. Scarborough's Family. Anthony Trollope
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he has got to say for himself. He is not in the least reticent in speaking of my brother's affairs." There was a good deal in this which was not agreeable. Miss Scarborough was sister to Mrs. Mountjoy as well as to the squire, and had been one of the family party most anxious to assure the marriage of Florence and the captain. The late General Mountjoy had been supposed to be a great man in his way, but had died before Tretton had become as valuable as it was now. Hence the eldest son had been christened with his name, and much of the Mountjoy prestige still clung to the family. But Harry did not care much about the family except so far as Florence was concerned. And then he had not been on peculiarly friendly terms with Septimus Jones, who had always been submissive to Augustus; and, now that Augustus was a rich man and could afford to buy horses, was likely to be more submissive than ever.
He went down to Tretton alone early in September, and when he reached the house he found that the two young men were out shooting. He asked for his own room, but was instead immediately taken to the old squire, whom he found lying on a couch in a small dressing-room, while his sister, who had been reading to him, was by his side. After the usual greetings Harry made some awkward apology as to his intrusion at the sick man's bedside. "Why, I ordered them to bring you in here," said the squire; "you can't very well call that intrusion. I have no idea of being shut up from the world before they nail me down in my coffin."
"That will be a long time first, we all hope," said his sister.
"Bother! you hope it, but I don't know that any one else does;—I don't for one. And if I did, what's the good of hoping? I have a couple of diseases, either of which is enough to kill a horse." Then he mentioned his special maladies in a manner which made Harry shrink. "What are they talking about in London just at present?" he asked.
"Just the old set of subjects," said Harry.
"I suppose they have got tired of me and my iniquities?" Harry could only smile and shake his head. "There has been such a complication of romances that one expects the story to run a little more than the ordinary nine days."
"Men still do talk about Mountjoy."
"And what are they saying? Augustus declares that you are especially interested on the subject."
"I don't know why I should be," said Harry.
"Nor I either. When a fellow becomes no longer of any service to either man, woman, or beast, I do not know why any should take an interest in him. I suppose you didn't lend him money?"
"I was not likely to do that, sir."
"Then I cannot conceive how it can interest you whether he be in London or Kamtchatka. It does not interest me the least in the world. Were he to turn up here it would be a trouble; and yet they expect me to subscribe largely to a fund for finding him. What good could he do me if he were found?"
"Oh, John, he is your son," said Miss Scarborough.
"And would be just as good a son as Augustus, only that he has turned out uncommonly badly. I have not the slightest feeling in the world as to his birth, and so I think I showed pretty plainly. But nothing could stop him in his course, and therefore I told the truth, that's all." In answer to this, Harry found it quite impossible to say a word, but got away to his bedroom and dressed for dinner as quickly as possible.
While he was still thus employed Augustus came into the room still dressed in his shooting-clothes. "So you've seen my father," he said.
"Yes, I saw him."
"And what did he say to you about Mountjoy?"
"Little or nothing that signifies. He seems to think it unreasonable that he should be asked to pay for finding him, seeing that the creditors expect to get the advantage of his presence when found."
"He is about right there."
"Oh yes; but still he is his father. It may be that it would be expected that he should interest himself in finding him."
"Upon my word I don't agree with you. If a thousand a year could be paid to keep Mountjoy out of the way I think it would be well expended."
"But you were acting with the police."
"Oh, the police! What do the police know about it? Of course I talk it all over with them. They have not the smallest idea where the man is, and do not know how to go to work to discover him. I don't say that my father is judicious in his brazen-faced opposition to all inquiry. He should pretend to be a little anxious—as I do. Not that there would be any use now in pretending to keep up appearances. He has declared himself utterly indifferent to the law, and has defied the world. Never mind, old fellow, we shall eat the more dinner, only I must go and prepare myself for it."
At dinner Harry found only Septimus Jones, Augustus Scarborough, and his aunt. Miss Scarborough said a good deal about her brother, and declared him to be much better. "Of course you know, Augustus, that Sir William Brodrick was down here for two days."
"Only fancy," replied he, "what one has to pay for two days of Sir William Brodrick in the country!"
"What can it matter?" said the generous spinster.
"It matters exactly so many hundred pounds; but no one will begrudge it if he does so many hundred pounds' worth of good."
"It will show, at any rate, that we have had the best advice," said the lady.
"Yes, it will show;—that is exactly what people care about. What did Sir William say?" Then during the first half of dinner a prolonged reference was made to Mr. Scarborough's maladies, and to Sir William's opinion concerning them. Sir William had declared that Mr. Scarborough's constitution was the most wonderful thing that he had ever met in his experience. In spite of the fact that Mr. Scarborough's body was one mass of cuts and bruises and faulty places, and that nothing would keep him going except the wearing of machinery which he was unwilling to wear, yet the facilities for much personal enjoyment were left to him, and Sir William declared that, if he would only do exactly as he were told, he might live for the next five years. "But everybody knows that he won't do anything that he is told," said Augustus, in a tone of voice which by no means expressed extreme sorrow.
From his father he led the conversation to the partridges, and declared his conviction that, with a little trouble and some expense, a very good head of game might be got up at Tretton. "I suppose it wouldn't cost much?" said Jones, who beyond ten shillings to a game-keeper never paid sixpence for whatever shooting came in his way.
"I don't know what you call much," said Augustus, "but I think it may be done for three or four hundred a year. I should like to calculate how many thousand partridges at that rate Sir William has taken back in his pocket."
"What does it matter?" asked Miss Scarborough.
"Only as a speculation. Of course my father, while he lives, is justified in giving his whole income to doctors if he likes it; but one gets into a manner of speaking about him as though he had done a good deal with his money in which he was not justified."
"Don't talk in that way, Augustus."
"My dear aunt, I am not at all inclined to be more open-mouthed than he is. Only reflect what it was that he was disposed to do with me, and the good-humor with which I have borne it!"
"I think I should hold my tongue about it," said Harry Annesley.
"And I think that in my place you would do no such thing. To your nature it would be almost impossible to hold your tongue. Your sense of justice would be so affronted that you would feel yourself compelled to discuss the injury done to you with all your intimate friends. But with your father your quarrel would be eternal. I made nothing of it, and, indeed, if he pertinaciously held his tongue on the subject, so should I."
"But because he talks," said Harry, "why should you?"
"Why should he not?" said Septimus Jones. "Upon my word I don't see the justice of it."
"I am not speaking of justice, but of feeling."
"Upon my word I wish you would hold your tongues about it; at any rate till my