Part 11 (2/2)

AN EXPLOSION.

It must not be supposed that Walter was prepared to follow out his brother Amos's moral courage at once and in everything. He was quite willing to admire this high-toned courage, and was learning to be content that his brother should enjoy the praise for it which was his due. He also fully intended to follow in the same steps some day or other; but then no real and radical change had taken place in his heart and character, nor had he any deliberate desire to give up old habits which were dear to him, and adopt new ones which would involve considerable and sustained self-denial. So he contented himself for the present with being more kind to his brother, and more careful not to wound him by rash and unfeeling remarks.

One thing, however, in Amos's conduct sadly puzzled and annoyed him.

Knowing that his brother was well provided with money of his own, he used not unfrequently to borrow from him when his own allowance ran short, which it very often did. This borrowing from Amos used to be but rarely followed by any repayment; for he had been so fully indulged by his father when younger, that he had no idea, now that he was getting more from under his father's hand, of denying himself, or going without anything he might happen to fancy. At first he used to tell the trades- people in the neighbouring town, when he made any purchases, to put them down to his father; but to this after a while Mr Huntingdon decidedly objected--finding, as he did, that expense was no consideration to Walter in the choice of an article, provided his father had to bear the cost. So Walter was made to understand that he must make the liberal allowance which his father gave him _do_, and that there must be no more running up of bills in Mr Huntingdon's name. But such an arrangement was very galling to Walter, who had lived all his early boyhood under the impression that, as being his father's favourite son, he had only to express a wish, or to ask for or to order a thing, and he would have it as a matter of course. However, the squire stood firm in the matter.

Walter, he said, was old enough now to understand something of the value of money, and he must learn to cut his coat according to his cloth.

This coat, however, with Walter was usually of such exaggerated dimensions that his ordinary allowance of material would go only a small way towards completing it. Consequently he used to have recourse to Amos, who invariably helped him through with a loan--for Walter would never receive help from his brother except as a loan--Amos at the same time hinting now and then at the hope of a partial repayment. To this Walter would reply that his brother should have it all back, if he wished it, ”one of these fine days;” but when such seasons of exceptionally fine monetary weather were likely to occur, Amos found it difficult to conjecture. A change, however, had now come over the elder brother, much to the annoyance and disgust of Walter. A decided refusal of a loan of money was accompanied by Amos with a remonstrance with his brother on his extravagance.

In a pet, Walter told Amos that he might keep his nasty sovereigns and s.h.i.+llings to buy toffee for dirty little boys and girls. He was much obliged to him for his advice, but he knew his own concerns best; and as for extravagance, it was better to put a little money into the tradesmen's pockets than h.o.a.rd it up like a stingy old miser, just to have the pleasure of saying, ”See how rich I am.”

To all this Amos made no reply at the time, but afterwards sent his brother a portion of the sum he wished to borrow, with a kind note, in which he said that Walter was welcome to this and to all other sums previously lent, as a free gift, but that for the future he could not lend him money beyond a few s.h.i.+llings occasionally, as he had a use for his own funds which made him unable to do for his brother what he had done for him in times past.

Partly touched at Amos's generosity, but more vexed at his present purpose respecting future loans, Walter was not disposed to look with a very favourable eye on his brother's money arrangements. What could he be wanting with so much? What could he be doing with it? There was nothing to show for it. If he had spent it in guns, or horses, or dogs, or travelling, or sight-seeing, Walter could have better acquiesced in the expenditure. But the money seemed to be wanted for something which, as far as he could see, turned out to be nothing. So his curiosity was considerably roused, and he resolved to find out, if he could, where his brother's spare cash went to.

Things were in this position, when one evening, as the whole family were seated on the lawn under some n.o.ble elms, enjoying the shade--for the weather had been exceedingly hot--a gentleman, well-known throughout the county for the interest he took in plans for doing good and alleviating the sorrows and sufferings of his poorer neighbours, called, and was invited by Mr Huntingdon to join his family on the lawn. ”And now, my dear sir,” said the squire, ”I know you are out on some errand of benevolence. You are a grand worker yourself, and a grand giver too, so tell us what is your present charitable hobby, and we must try and give you a help, so that you may ride him easily.”

”Thank you, Mr Huntingdon, with all my heart,” said the other; ”you are very kind. My hobby this time is a very robust animal, and will want a good deal of feeding if he is to keep up his strength. But to come to plain language, I am collecting subscriptions for a working-men's coffee-house in Redbury--a British Workman they call it. You know, I dare say, that two ruinous old houses of mine in the market-place are being pulled down. Now, I am going to give the ground which one of them stands on for the new coffee-house. It is a capital situation, just in the centre of the town. I shall want funds, however, for the erection of a new and suitable building, and also a few annual subscriptions to keep the establishment going and pay the expenses of management, as I don't suppose it will be self-supporting, at any rate not at first.”

”Well,” said the squire, ”let me look at your subscription list, for I see you have one with you. Ah, good! it is very generous of you to put down your own name for so large a sum to the building fund, besides giving the land. Put me down then for fifty pounds, and an annual subscription of three guineas till the concern is self-supporting.”

”May I look at the list?” asked Miss Huntingdon, when their visitor had expressed his thanks to her brother. Having glanced at it, she also signified her willingness to be a helper in the work, and gave the list to Walter to return to the gentleman.

As her nephew was giving back the subscription list, he paused for a moment to run his eye over the names of the contributors. ”Ah!” he said, ”I see your own sons down, Mr Johnson, for a guinea a piece. I wish I could afford to follow their example.”

”Perhaps, after all, you can,” said the gentleman, smiling. ”I am sure it does young people good to practise a little self-denial in helping on a good cause like this.”

”I don't doubt that, sir,” replied Walter, ”but I am ashamed to say that self-denial of that sort is not much in my line. But, then, I am not a man of independent fortune like my brother Amos here. Ask him, pray.

He has, or ought to have, lots of spare cash, and he is always on the look-out to be doing good with it.” There was a tone of sarcasm in his voice which grated very painfully on Miss Huntingdon's ear. Amos coloured deeply, but made no remark.

”What say you, my young friend?” asked Mr Johnson, in a kindly voice, turning to him. ”Your brother encourages me to hope that we may add your name to the list.”

The young man, thus appealed to, looked uneasy and embarra.s.sed, and then, in a few moments, said in an undertone, ”I am sorry that just now I am not in a position to add my name, but I shall be glad to do so when I am better able.”

Mr Johnson did not press the matter, but shortly left, having first partaken of a little fruit which had been brought to him by the butler while the conversation about the subscriptions had been going on.

It has already been said that the old man Harry was a privileged servant of long standing, almost a portion of the estate, so that he was allowed little liberties which would not ordinarily have been permitted to one in his place. He had listened with burning cheeks and flas.h.i.+ng eyes to Walter's sneering remarks about his brother's wealth, and now lingered near the group, as he was removing a little table on which he had placed the fruit for Mr Johnson. There was a restlessness about his manner which Miss Huntingdon noticed and wondered at; but her attention was then drawn to Walter, who, lounging against a bench, said in a rather drawling voice, ”I really wonder what some people do with their money.

For my part, I don't see what's the use of it except to be jolly with it yourself, and to make other people jolly with it.--Amos,” he added abruptly, ”what's up with you that you've become so very poor all of a sudden?”

To this Amos made no reply, but turned away to hide his vexation.

”My boy,” said Mr Huntingdon, addressing his elder son, ”I'm a little surprised myself that you should be at all hard up. I quite expected that you would have followed the example of Mr Johnson's sons, and have put down your name. I think you could have afforded it.”

Still Amos did not reply, but seemed hesitating what to say. But here Walter broke in again. ”I call it downright mean!” he exclaimed bitterly; ”but he's getting meaner and meaner, that he is. What he does with his money n.o.body knows. I suppose he spends it in religious pocket-handkerchiefs and pious bed-quilts for the little n.i.g.g.e.rs in Africa, or something of the sort. At any rate, he has none to spare for those nearer home.” He was about to say more, but happening to raise his eyes he was astonished to see the old butler, who had been slowly drawing nearer and nearer, raising his right arm, and looking at him almost fiercely, as though he were going to strike him.--”What's up now, Harry?” he cried; ”is the black cat dead?”

The old man's appearance now attracted every one's attention. He had drawn himself up to his full height, and had turned so as to confront Mr Huntingdon, who was sitting with his sister by his side on a garden bench facing the house. His snow-white hair gave him ordinarily a venerable appearance, and this was now increased by the look of intense earnestness which glowed in his every feature. His back was to Amos, who, noticing that the old man was evidently about to speak under the pressure of some unusual excitement, half rose to his feet, but too late to stop old Harry's purpose.

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