Why, there now! cried Mrs. Mutimer, pleased to see her son. If I wasnt saying not five minutes ago as Dick was likely to come some day in the week! Wasnt I, Alice? Whatll you have for your tea? Theres some chops all ready in the ouse, if youd care for them.
Richard was not in a cheerful mood. He made no reply immediately, but went and stood before the fireplace, as he had been accustomed to do in the old kitchen.
Will you have a chop? repeated his mother.
No; I wont eat just yet. But you can give me a cup of tea.
Mrs. Mutimer and Alice exchanged a glance, as the former bent over the teapot. Richard was regarding his brother askance, and it resulted in a question, rather sharply put
Have you been to work to-day?
Arry would have lied had he dared; as it was, he made his plate revolve, and murmured, No; he adnt.
Why not?
I didnt feel well, replied the youth, struggling for self-confidence and doing his best to put on an air of patient suffering.
Richard tapped his tea-cup and looked the look of one who reserves discussion for a more seasonable time.
Daniel called last night, remarked Mrs. Mutimer. He says he wants to see you. I think its something particular; he seemed disappointed you werent at the meeting on Sunday.
Did he? Ill see if I can get round to-night. If you like to have something cooked for me about eight oclock, mother, he added, consulting his watch, I shall be ready for it then.
He turned to his brother again.
Is there a class to-night? No? Very well, when theyve cleared away, get your books out and show me what youve been doing. What are you going to do with yourself, Alice?
The two addressed, as well as their mother, appeared to have some special cause for embarrassment. Instead of immediately replying, Alice played with crumbs and stole glances on either side.
Me and Arry are going out, she said at length, with a rather timid smile and a poise of the head in pretty wilfulness.
Not Arry, Richard observed significantly.
Why not? came from the younger Mutimer, with access of boldness.
If youre not well enough to go to work you certainly dont go out at night for your pleasure.
But its a particular occasion, explained Mice, leaning back with crossed arms, evidently prepared to do battle. A friend of Arrys is going to call and take us to the theatre.
Oh, indeed! And what friend is that?
Mrs. Mutimer, who had been talked over to compliance with a project she felt Richard would not approveshe had no longer the old authority, and spent her days in trying to piece on the present life to the formerfound refuge in a habit more suitable to the kitchen than the dining-room; she had collected all the teaspoons within reach and was pouring hot-water upon them in the slop-basin, the familiar preliminary to washing up.
A genleman as lives near here, responded Arry. He writes for the newspapers. His names Keene.
Oh? And how came you to know him?
Met him, was the airy reply.
And youve brought him here?
Well, hes been here once.
He said as he wanted to know you, Dick, put in Mrs. Mutimer. He was really a civil-spoken man, and he gave Arry a lot of help with his books.
When was he here?
Last Friday.
And to-night he wants to take you to the theatre?
The question was addressed to Alice.
It wont cost him anything, she replied. He says he can always get free passes.
No doubt. Is he coming here to fetch you? I shall be glad to see him.
Richards tone was ambiguous. He put down his cup, and said to Alice
Come and let me hear how you get on with your playing. Alice followed into the drawing-room. For the furnishing of the new house Richard had not trusted to his own instincts, but had taken counsel with a firm that he knew from advertisements. The result was commonplace, but not intolerable. His front room was regarded as the Princesss peculiar domain; she alone dared to use it freelydeclined, indeed, to sit elsewhere. Her mother only came a few feet within the door now and then; if obliged by Alice to sit down, she did so on the edge of a chair as near to the door as possible. Most of her time Mrs. Mutimer still spent in the kitchen. She had resolutely refused to keep more than one servant, and everything that servant did she all Alices objections she opposed an obstinate silence. What herself performed over again, even to the making of beds. To was the poor woman to do? She had never in her life read more than an occasional paragraph of police news, and could not be expected to take up literature at her age. Though she made no complaint, signs were not wanting that she had begun to suffer in health. She fretted through the nights, and was never really at peace save when she anticipated the servant in rising early, and had an honest scrub at saucepans or fireirons before breakfast. Her main discomfort came of the feeling that she no longer had a house of her own; nothing about her seemed to be her property with the exception of her old kitchen clock, and one or two articles she could not have borne to part with. From being a rather talkative woman she had become very reticent; she went about uneasily, with a look of suspicion or of fear. Her children she no longer ventured to command; the secret of their wealth weighed upon her, she was in constant dread on their behalf. It is a bad thing for one such as Mrs. Mutimer to be thrown back upon herself in novel circumstances, and practically debarred from the only relief which will avail herfree discussion with her own kind. The result is a species of shock to the system, sure to manifest itself before long in one or other form of debility.
Alice seated herself at the piano, and began a finger exercise, laboriously, imperfectly. For the first week or two it had given her vast satisfaction to be learning the piano; what more certain sign of having achieved ladyhood? It pleased her to assume airs with her teachera very deferential ladyto put off a lesson for a fit of languidness; to let it be understood how entirely time was at her command. Now she was growing rather weary of flats and sharps, and much preferred to read of persons to whom the same nomenclature was very applicable in the books she obtained from a circulating library. Her reading had hitherto been confined to the fiction of the penny papers; to procure her pleasure in three gaily-bound volumes was another evidence of rise in the social scale; it was like ordering your wine by the dozen after being accustomed to a poor chance bottle now and then. At present Alice spent the greater part of her day floating on the gentle milky stream of English romance. Her brother was made a little uneasy by this taste; he had not studied the literature in question.
At half-past six a loud knock at the front door announced the expected visitor. Alice turned from the piano, and looked at her brother apprehensively. Richard rose, and established himself on the hearthrug, his hands behind him.
What are you going to say to him, Dick? Alice asked hurriedly.
He says he wants to know me. I shall say, Here I am.
There were voices outside. Arry had opened the door himself, and now he ushered his acquaintance into the drawing-room. Mr. Keene proved to be a man of uncertain agehe might be eight-and-twenty, but was more probably ten years older. He was meagre, and of shrewd visage; he wore a black frock coatrather shiny at the backand his collar was obviously of paper. Incipient baldness endowed him in appearance with a noble forehead; he carried eye-glasses.
At half-past six a loud knock at the front door announced the expected visitor. Alice turned from the piano, and looked at her brother apprehensively. Richard rose, and established himself on the hearthrug, his hands behind him.
What are you going to say to him, Dick? Alice asked hurriedly.
He says he wants to know me. I shall say, Here I am.
There were voices outside. Arry had opened the door himself, and now he ushered his acquaintance into the drawing-room. Mr. Keene proved to be a man of uncertain agehe might be eight-and-twenty, but was more probably ten years older. He was meagre, and of shrewd visage; he wore a black frock coatrather shiny at the backand his collar was obviously of paper. Incipient baldness endowed him in appearance with a noble forehead; he carried eye-glasses.
Whilst Arry mumbled a form of introduction, the journalistso Mr. Keene described himselfstood in a bowing attitude, one hand to his glasses, seeming to inspect Richard with extreme yet respectful interest. When he spoke, it was in a rather mincing way, with interjected murmursthe involuntary overflow, as it were, of his deep satisfaction.
There are few persons in England whose acquaintance I desire more than that of Mr. Richard Mutimer; indeed, I may leave the statement unqualified and say at once that there is no one. I have heard you speak in public, Mr. Mutimer. My profession has necessarily led me to hear most of our platform orators, and in one respect you distance them allin the quality of sincerity. No speaker ever moved me as you did. I had long been interested in your cause; I had long wished for time and opportunity to examine into it thoroughly. Your addressI speak seriouslyremoved the necessity of further study. I am of your party, Mr. Mutimer. There is nothing I desire so much as to give and take the hand of brotherhood.
He jerked his hand forward, still preserving his respectful attitude. Richard gave his own hand carelessly, smiling as a man does who cannot but enjoy flattery yet has a strong desire to kick the flatterer out of the room.
Are you a member of the Union? he inquired.
With pride I profess myself a member. Some dayand that at no remote dateI may have it in my power to serve the cause materially. He smiled meaningly. The pressyou understand? He spread his fingers to represent wide dominion. An ally to whom the columns of the bourgeois press are openyou perceive? It is the task of my life.
What papers do you write for? asked Mutimer bluntly.
Several, several. Not as yet in a leading capacity. In fact, I am feeling my way. With ends such as I propose to myself it wont do to stand committed to any formal creed in politics. Politics, indeed! Ha, ha!
He laughed scornfully. Then, turning to Alice
You will forgive me, I am sure, Miss Mutimer, that I address myself first to your brotherI had almost said your illustrious brother. To be confessed illustrious some day, depend upon it. I trust you are well?
Thanks, Im very well indeed, murmured Alice, rather disconcerted by such politeness.
And Mrs. Mutimer? That is well. By-the-by, he proceeded to Richard, I have a piece of work in hand that will deeply interest you. I am translating the great treatise of Marx, Das capital. It occurs to me that a chapter now and then might see the light in the Fiery Cross. How do you view that suggestion?
Richard did not care to hide his suspicion, and even such an announcement as this failed to move him to cordiality.
You might drop a line about it to Mr. Westlake, he said.
Mr. Westlake? Oh! but I quite understood that you had practically the conduct of the paper.
Richard again smiled.
Mr. Westlake edits it, he said.
Mr. Keene waved his hand in sign of friendly intelligence. Then he changed the subject.
I ventured to put at Miss Mutimers disposal certain tickets I holdprofessionallyfor the Regents Theatre to-nightthe dress circle. I have five seats in all. May I have the pleasure of your company, Mr. Mutimer?
Im only in town for a night, Richard replied; and I cant very well spare the time.
To be sure, to be sure; I was inconsiderate. Then Miss Mutimer and my friend Harry
Im sorry theyre not at liberty, was Richards answer to the murmured interrogation. If they had accepted your invitation be so good as to excuse them. I happen to want them particularly this evening.
In that case, I have of course not a word to say, save to express my deep regret at losing the pleasure of their company. But another time, I trust. II feel presumptuous, but it is my earnest hope to be allowed to stand on the footing not only of a comrade in the cause, but of a neighbour; I live quite near. Forgive me if I seem a little precipitate. The privilege is so inestimable.
Richard made no answer, and Mr. Keene forthwith took his leave, suave to the last. When he was gone, Richard went to the dining-room, where his mother was sitting. Mrs. Mutimer would have given much to be allowed to sit in the kitchen; she had a room of her own upstairs, but there she felt too remote from the centre of domestic operations, and the dining-room was a compromise. Her chair was always placed in a rather dusky corner; she generally had sewing on her lap, but the consciousness that her needle was not really in demand, and that she might just as well have sat idle, troubled her habits of mind. She often had the face of one growing prematurely aged.
I hope you wont let them bring anyone they like, Richard said to her. Ive sent that fellow about his business; hes here for no good. He mustnt come again.
They wont heed me, replied Mrs. Mutimer, using the tone of little interest with which she was accustomed to speak of details of the new order.
Well, then, theyve got to heed you, and Ill have that understood.Why didnt Arry go to work to-day?
Didnt want to, I spose.
Has he stayed at home often lately?
Not at ome, but I expect he doesnt always go to work.
Will you go and sit with Alice in the front room? Ill have a talk with him.
Arry came whistling at the summons. There was a nasty look on his face, the look which in his character corresponded to Richards resoluteness. His brother eyed him.
Look here, Arry, the elder began, I want this explaining. What do you mean by shirking your work?
There was no reply. Arry strode to the window and leaned against the side of it, in the attitude of a Sunday loafer waiting for the dram-shop to open.
If this goes on, Richard pursued, youll find yourself in your old position again. Ive gone to a good deal of trouble to give you a start, and it seems to me you ought to show a better spirit. Wed better have an understanding; do you mean to learn engineering, or dont you?
I dont see the use of it, said the other.
What do you mean? I suppose you must make your living somehow?
Arry laughed, and in such a way that Richard looked at him keenly, his brow gathering darkness.
What are you laughing at?
Why, at you. Theres no more need for me to work for a living than there is for you. As if I didnt know that!
Whos been putting that into your head?
No scruple prevented the lad from breaking a promise he had made to Mr. Keene, the journalist, when the latter explained to him the disposition of the deceased Richard Mutimers estate; it was only that he preferred to get himself credit for acuteness.