threatening to talk business through the keyhole, the door was unlocked, and Old Tom appeared.
“So! now you’re dogging me into the country. Be off; make an appointment. Saturday’s my holiday. You know that.”
Andrew pushed through the doorway, and, by way of an emphatic reply and a silencing one, delivered a punch slap into Old Tom’s belt.
“Confound you, Nan!” said Old Tom, grimacing, but friendly, as if his sympathies had been irresistibly assailed.
“It’s done, Tom! I’ve done it. Won my bet, now,” Andrew exclaimed. “The women—poor creatures! What a state they’re in. I pity ’em.”
Old Tom pursed his lips, and eyed his brother incredulously, but with curious eagerness.
“Oh, Lord! what a face I’ve had to wear!” Andrew continued, and while he sank into a chair rubbed his handkerchief over his crisp hair, Old Tom let loose a convinced and exulting, “ha! ha!”
“Yes, you may laugh. I’ve had all the bother,” said Andrew.
“Serve ye right—marrying such cattle,” Old Tom snapped at him.
“They believe we’re bankrupt—owe fifty thousand clear, Tom!”
“Ha! ha!”
“Brewery stock and household furniture to be sold by general auction, Friday week.”
“Ha! ha!”
“Not a place for any of us to poke our heads into. I talked about ‘pitiless storms’ to my poor Harry—no shelter to be had unless we go down to Lymport, and stop with their brother in the shop!”
Old Tom did enjoy this. He took a great gulp of air for a tremendous burst of laughter, and when this was expended and reflection came, his features screwed, as if the acidest of flavours had ravished his palate.
“Bravo, Nan! Didn’t think you were man enough. Ha! ha! Nan—I say—eh? how did ye get on behind the curtains?”
The tale, to guess by Andrew’s face, appeared to be too strongly infused with pathos for revelation.
“Will they go, Nan, eh? d’ye think they’ll go?”
“Where else can they go, Tom? They must go there, and on the parish, you know.”
“They’ll all troop down to the young tailor—eh?”
“They can’t sleep in the parks, Tom.”
“No. They can’t get into Buckingham Palace, neither—’cept as housemaids. ’Gad, they’re howling like cats, I’d swear—nuisance to the neighbourhood—ha! ha!”
Somehow, Old Tom’s cruel laughter made Andrew feel for the unhappy ladies. He struck his forehead, and leaned forward, saying: “I don’t know—’pon my honour, I don’t know—can’t think we’ve quite done right to punish ’em so.”
This acted like cold water on Old Tom’s delight. He pitched it back in the shape of a doubt of what Andrew had told him. Whereupon Andrew defied him to face three miserable women on the verge of hysterics; and Old Tom, beginning to chuckle again, rejoined that it would bring them to their senses, and emancipate him.
“You may laugh, Mr. Tom,” said Andrew; “but if poor Harry should find me out, deuce a bit more home for me.”
Old Tom looked at him keenly, and rapped the table. “Swear you did it, Nan.”
“You promise you’ll keep the secret,” said Andrew.
“Never make promises.”
“Then there’s a pretty life for me! I did it for that poor dear boy. You were only up to one of your jokes—I see that. Confound you, Old Tom, you’ve been making a fool of me.”
The flattering charge was not rejected by Old Tom, who now had his brother to laugh at as well. Andrew affected to be indignant and desperate.
“If you’d had a heart, Tom, you’d have saved the poor fellow without any bother at all. What do you think? When I told him of our smash—ha! ha! it isn’t such a bad joke—well, I went to him, hanging my head, and he offered to arrange our affairs—that is—”
“Damned meddlesome young dog!” cried Old Tom, quite in a rage.
“There—you’re up in a twinkling,” said Andrew. “Don’t you see he believed it, you stupid Old Tom? Lord! to hear him say how sorry he was, and to see how glad he looked at the chance of serving us!”
“Serving us!” Tom sneered.
“Ha!” went Andrew. “Yes. There. You’re a deuced deal prouder than fifty peers. You’re an upside-down old despot!”
No sharper retort rising to Old Tom’s lips, he permitted his brother’s abuse of him to pass, declaring that bandying words was not his business, he not being a Parliament man.
“How about the Major, Nan? He coming down, too?”
“Major!” cried Andrew. “Lucky if he keeps his commission. Coming down? No. He’s off to the Continent.”
“Find plenty of scamps there to keep him company,” added Tom. “So he’s broke—eh? ha! ha!”
“Tom,” said Andrew, seriously, “I’ll tell you all about it, if you’ll swear not to split on me, because it would really upset poor Harry so. She’d think me such a beastly hypocrite, I couldn’t face her afterwards.”
“Lose what pluck you have—eh?” Tom jerked out his hand, and bade his brother continue.
Compelled to trust in him without a promise, Andrew said: “Well, then, after we’d arranged it, I went back to Harry, and begged her to have poor Van at the house: told her what I hoped you’d do for him about getting him into the Brewery. She’s very kind, Tom, ’pon my honour she is. She was willing, only—”
“Only—eh?”
“Well, she was so afraid it’d hurt her sisters to see him there.”
Old Tom saw he was in for excellent fun, and wouldn’t spoil it for the world.
