Part 64 (2/2)
”Do you turn against your father?” his host asked, making, to disengage his arm from the young man's touch, an effort betraying the irritation of conscious weakness. Nick got up at this and stood a moment looking down at him while he went on: ”Do you give up your name, do you give up your country?”
”If I do something good my country may like it.” Nick spoke as if he had thought that out.
”Do you regard them as equal, the two glories?”
”Here comes your nurse to blow me up and turn me out,” said Nick.
The nurse had come in, but Mr. Carteret directed to her an audible dry, courteous ”Be so good as to wait till I send for you,” which arrested her in the large room at some distance from the bed and then had the effect of making her turn on her heel with a professional laugh. She clearly judged that an old gentleman with the fine manner of his prime might still be trusted to take care of himself. When she had gone that personage addressed to his visitor the question for which his deep displeasure lent him strength. ”Do you pretend there's a n.o.bler life than a high political career?”
”I think the n.o.ble life's doing one's work well. One can do it very ill and be very base and mean in what you call a high political career. I haven't been in the House so many months without finding that out. It contains some very small souls.”
”You should stand against them--you should expose them!” stammered Mr.
Carteret.
”Stand against them, against one's own party!”
The old man contended a moment with this and then broke out: ”G.o.d forgive you, are you a Tory, are you a Tory?”
”How little you understand me!” laughed Nick with a ring of bitterness.
”Little enough--little enough, my boy. Have you sent your electors your dreadful letter?”
”Not yet; but it's all ready and I shan't change my mind.”
”You will--you will. You'll think better of it. You'll see your duty,”
said the invalid almost coaxingly.
”That seems very improbable, for my determination, crudely and abruptly as, to my great regret, it comes to you here, is the fruit of a long and painful struggle. The difficulty is that I see my duty just in this other effort.”
”An effort? Do you call it an effort to fall away, to sink far down, to give up every effort? What does your mother say, heaven help her?” Mr.
Carteret went on before Nick could answer the other question.
”I haven't told her yet.”
”You're ashamed, you're ashamed!” Nick only looked out of the west window now--he felt his ears turn hot. ”Tell her it would have been sixty thousand. I had the money all ready.”
”I shan't tell her that,” said Nick, redder still.
”Poor woman--poor dear woman!” Mr. Carteret woefully cried.
”Yes indeed--she won't like it.”
”Think it all over again; don't throw away a splendid future!” These words were uttered with a final flicker of pa.s.sion--Nick had never heard such an accent on his old friend's lips. But he next began to murmur, ”I'm tired--I'm very tired,” and sank back with a groan and with closed lips. His guest gently a.s.sured him that he had but too much cause to be exhausted and that the worst was over now. He smoothed his pillows for him and said he must leave him, would send in the nurse. ”Come back, come back,” Mr. Carteret pleaded against that; ”come back and tell me it's a horrible dream.”
Nick did go back very late that evening; his host had sent a message to his room. But one of the nurses was on the ground this time and made good her opposition watch in hand. The sick-room was shrouded and darkened; the shaded candle left the bed in gloom. Nick's interview with his venerable friend was the affair of but a moment; the nurse interposed, impatient and not understanding. She heard Nick say that he had posted his letter now and their companion flash out with an acerbity still savouring of the sordid a.s.sociations of a world he had not done with: ”Then of course my settlement doesn't take effect!”
”Oh that's all right,” Nick answered kindly; and he went off next morning by the early train--his injured host was still sleeping. Mrs.
<script>