flatly that he had a brother. I can quite understand a certain amount of reticence. The subject wasn't a pleasant one. Still, I spoke in a most sympathetic way, and I expected, as between two clergymen, that he would have been more candid."
I recollected the brother then. I had myself called him into existence as an excuse for my visit to the original Metcalf. I became greatly interested.
"You're quite sure," I said, "that it was"
"I did not speak to him," said my uncle. "He hurried past me, but the likeness was unmistakable. In fact, I should have thought it was Metcalf himself if I had not recollected what you told me about the brother. Have you seem him lately?"
"No. I have completely lost sight of him."
"Judging from his appearance," said my uncle, "I should say he had sunk very low, very low indeed. There was every mark of dissipation about him."
"Poor fellow," I said, "he has kicked the bedclothes off in earnest then."
"The bedclothes?"
"It's a slang phrase," I said; "I dare say you never heard it. It means"
"I can guess at the meaning, especially after seeing Metcalf's brother. You ought to try if you come across him to"
"I shall," I said. "I'll do the best I can. I'll tell Egerton about him, and between us we'll try
