Part 27 (1/2)
It will be the same in the end.”
”You are very good, father. But how can you do it without d.i.c.k's knowing?”
”d.i.c.k doesn't take part in all my affairs; only in matters that have to do with the land. I can raise it without affecting the estate accounts. He will know, probably, that something is being done, but he won't ask questions. d.i.c.k is very careful not to touch on my right to do what I please with my own.”
At any other time Humphrey would have been interested in this statement. Like the sons of many rich men, he knew little of his father's affairs, and had only the vaguest ideas as to the amount and sources of his wealth. But he was only interested now in the fact that his father was able, and willing, to provide so large a sum as seven thousand pounds at once.
”It would be a tremendous relief to be rid of that burden,” he said.
”If you can do it, I would pay you back what I don't spend out of my income.”
”Yes, I can do it, and I will, as soon as possible. But, Humphrey, my boy, this money can't be sent anonymously.”
”Why not?”
”I don't think you can be expected to see everything very clearly yet.
If you will think it over, you will see that we can't act in that way.
You mustn't expect me to do it.”
Humphrey thought for a time. ”What do you suggest?” he asked.
”Either you or I must make a clean breast of it to Sedbergh!”
”Oh, father!”
”Yes. That must be done. Our honour demands it. You will see it plainly enough if you think it over. I believe you were right in stipulating for secrecy on my part, as you did. Certainly I couldn't behave as I want to do to Susan, when the time comes, if I knew that others in the house besides myself knew her story. But this is different. We mustn't act like cowards.”
”Isn't he annoyed with us--about Joan?”
”Not annoyed. He was sorry. So was I--though I'm not sure now. I think my first instinct was the right one. The sort of life that's lived in houses like Brummels--well, you see what it leads to.”
It was the old familiar song; but set to how different a tune!
Humphrey, even in his pre-occupation, noted the change, and felt a sense of comfort and support in something stable, underlying the habitual crudities and inconsistencies in his father.
”Jim Sedbergh was a very intimate friend of mine,” said the Squire, ”many years ago. He is a friend still. We found we hadn't changed much to each other when he came here. I can trust him as I would trust myself. He will take the view I do, whatever it is. You had better let me see him, Humphrey. He'll keep whatever I tell him to himself.”
They settled that he should go up to London the next day. That was all there was to settle for the present, and it was already very late.
”Well, good night, Humphrey, my dear boy,” said the Squire. ”You'll get through this great trouble. We shall all get through it in time.
You know where to go for help and comfort. I've been there already, and I've got what I went for. G.o.d bless you, my dear boy. He will, if you ask Him.”
CHAPTER III
THE BURDEN
”My dear Edward, I am deeply sorry for you.”
The Squire leant back in the big easy-chair and wiped his brow, which was beaded with perspiration. He had told his story, and it had been the bitterest task he had ever undertaken.
Lord Sedbergh's face was very serious. The two men had lunched together at his club, and were sitting in the inner upstairs library, with coffee and liqueurs at their elbows, by the window looking on to the green of the park--two men of substantial fortune and accredited position, entrenched in one of the rich retreats dedicated to the leisure of their exclusive kind.