The Bertrams Part 43

He first called on Pritchett. Mr. Pritchett told him that his brother was better--considerably better. Sir Lionel was in raptures. He had hurried up from Littlebath in an agony. He had heard most distressing accounts. He would however go down to Hadley and see his brother.

"I am afraid Mr. Bertram is not very much up to company just at present," wheezed out Mr. Pritchett.

"But a brother, you know," suggested Sir Lionel.

Pritchett knew exactly how the brothers stood with each other; and he himself, though he was very partial to Mr. George, had not any warm love for Sir Lionel.

"Oh, yes; a brother is a brother, surely. But, Mr. Bertram, you know, sir--"

"You mean," said Sir Lionel, "that he is a little vexed about the account."

"Oh, yes, the account; there is the account, Sir Lionel. If it is to settle that, perhaps I can manage without troubling you to go to Hadley. Not but what settling the account _will_ make matters smoother."

Sir Lionel could get nothing more from Mr. Pritchett; but he would not be put off from his intention, and he did go to Hadley. He found his brother sitting up in the dining-room, but he would not have known him. And, indeed, many who had seen him lately might have had some difficulty in recognizing him. He was not only lean and lank, and worn and wan, but he spoke with some difficulty, and on close examination it might be seen that his mouth was twisted as it were from the centre of his face. Since his relatives had seen him he had suffered what is genteelly called a slight threatening of paralysis.

But his mind, if touched at all, had recovered itself; and his spirit was in nowise paralyzed. When Sir Lionel was shown into the room--he had first of all taken the precaution of sending down his card from the hotel, and saying that he would call in half an hour--the old man put out his hand to him, but did not attempt to rise from his chair.

It must be remembered that the brothers had not seen each other for more than fifteen years.

Sir Lionel had tutored himself carefully as to what he would say and what do. "George," he said, and the old man shrank as he heard the unaccustomed name. "When I heard that you were ill, I could not but come and see you."

"Very good of you, Sir Lionel; very good of you," growled the old man.

"It is fifteen years since we met, and we are both old men now."

"I am an old man now, and nearly worn out; too old and far gone to have many wants. You are not in that condition, I suppose."

There was an amount of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke, and in his eye also as he looked at his brother, which made Sir Lionel perfectly understand that his rich relative was not specially anxious to be kind to him.

"Well, we are neither of us quite so far gone as that, I hope--not quite so far gone as that;" and Sir Lionel looked very pleasant.

"But, speaking for myself, I have not many wants now"--nor had he, pleasant old man that he was; only three or four comfortable rooms for himself and his servant; a phaeton and a pair of horses; and another smaller establishment in a secluded quiet street; nothing more than that, including of course all that was excellent in the eating and drinking line--"speaking for myself, I have not many wants now." And he did look very good-humoured and pleasant as he spoke.

Mr. Bertram senior did not look good-humoured or pleasant. There was that in his old eye which was the very opposite to good-humour and pleasantness.

"Ah!" said he. "Well I am glad of that, for you will be able to do the more for poor George. He will have wants; he is going to take care and trouble on himself. Neither he nor his sweetheart have, I take it, been accustomed to do without wants; and their income will be tight enough--forby what you can do for them."

The colonel sat and still looked pleasant, but he began to think that it might be as well for him that he was back at Littlebath.

"Poor George! I hope they will be happy. I think they will; my greatest anxiety now is of course for their happiness; and yours is the same, doubtless. It is odd that my child and your child's child should thus come together, is it not?" so spoke the colonel.

Mr. Bertram looked at him; looked through him almost, but he said nothing.

"It is odd," continued Sir Lionel, "but a very happy circ.u.mstance.

She is certainly the sweetest girl I ever saw; and George is a lucky fellow."

"Yes, he is a lucky fellow; he will get more than he has any right to expect. First and last she will have six thousand pounds. I have not heard him say what he means to settle on her; but perhaps he was waiting till you had come home."

Sir Lionel's forte during his whole official career had been the making pleasant--by the pleasantness that was innate in him--things which appeared to be going in a very unpleasant manner. But how was he to make things pleasant now?

"Well, you see, George has been so much knocked about! There was his fellowship. I think they behaved shabbily enough to him."

"Fellowship! One hundred and seventy pounds a year and the run of his teeth at feast time, or some such thing as that. A man can't marry on his fellowship very well!"

"Ha! ha! ha! no, he can't exactly do that. On the whole, I think it was quite as well that he threw it up; and so I told him."

"Did you tell him at the same time what his future income was to be?"

"No, upon my soul I did not; but if all I hear be true, I believe you did. You have been exceedingly generous to him, George--and to me also."

"Then, Sir Lionel, allow me to tell you that all you hear is not true. Anything at all that you may have heard of that kind, if you have heard anything, is perfectly false. I have said nothing to George about his income, and have nothing to say to him."

"Well, I may have expressed myself wrongly, and perhaps you did say nothing. I was alluding especially to what you have done."

"I will tell you exactly what I have done. I thought he showed a high spirit when he threw up his fellowship, and as I had always a great contempt for those Oxford fellows, I sent him a thousand pounds. It was a present, and I hope he will make good use of it."

"I am sure he will," said Sir Lionel, who certainly had just cause for such confidence, seeing how large a slice out of the sum had been placed at his own disposal.

"I am sure he will," said Sir Lionel. "Indeed, I know that he has."

"Ah, I'm glad to hear of it; of course you know more about it than I do; of course you are arranging these matters. But that is all he has had from me, and all that he is likely to have."

If such were to be the treatment of George, of George who was certainly in some respects a favourite, what hope could Sir Lionel have for himself? But it was not so much his brother's words which led him to fear that his brother's money-bags were impregnable to him as his brother's voice and his brother's eye. That eye was never off him, and Sir Lionel did begin to wish that he was at Littlebath.

"I don't know whether George may have formed any hopes," continued the old man; but here Sir Lionel interrupted him, and not imprudently: if anything was to be said, it should be said now.

"Well, if he has formed hopes, George, you cannot but own that it is natural. He has looked on you as a man without any child of your own, and he has been taught so to look by your treating him almost as though he were your son."

"You mean that I paid his school debts and his Oxford debts when you forgot to do so," growled out the elder brother.

"Yes, and that you afterwards gave him an income when he came up to live in London. I hope you do not think that I am ungrateful, George?" and Sir Lionel used his softest and, at the same time, his most expressive tone.

"Grateful! I seldom look for much grat.i.tude. But I shall be glad to know when it may suit you to settle with me. The account has been running on now for a great many years. Probably Pritchett may have sent it you." And as he spoke Mr. Bertram rose from his chair and took an ominous-looking piece of paper from off the mantelpiece.

"Yes, Mr. Pritchett is punctuality itself in these matters," said Sir Lionel, with a gentle laugh, which had not about it all his usual pleasantness.

"You have probably checked it, and can say whether or no it be correct," said Mr. Bertram senior, looking at the paper in his hand.

"Well, I can't say that I have exactly; but I don't in the least doubt the figures, not in the least; Mr. Pritchett is always correct, I know."

"Yes, Mr. Pritchett is generally correct. And may I ask, Sir Lionel, what you intend to do in the matter?"

It was necessary now that Sir Lionel should summon up his best courage. He reminded himself that after all his brother was but a feeble old man--impotent in all but money; and as it seemed now clear that no further pecuniary aid was to be expected, why need he fear him on this account? Had it been possible for him to get away without further talk, he would have done so; but this was not possible, so he determined to put a good face on it.

"I suppose you are joking now, George," said he.

I wish I could describe the tone of voice in which the word joking was repeated by the elder Mr. Bertram. It made the military knight jump in his chair, and confess to himself that the word impotent could not be safely applied to his ancient relative.

"Well, I dare say it is a joke," the old man went on to say. "If I expect to be paid what I have expended in saving George from being turned loose upon the world without education, I suppose it is a joke. Ha! ha! ha! I never thought of laughing at it before, but now I will. I always heard that you were a joker, Sir Lionel. Ha! ha! ha! I dare say you have laughed at it often enough yourself, eh?"

"What I mean is this, when you took upon yourself George's education and maintenance, you could hardly have intended to have it paid back again by such a poor devil as I am."