Confessions of a Well-Meaning Woman
nothing. . . “I wanted to see you,” I said, “about Will. You and I have to pull together for the sake of the family. If anything happens to me, I leave Will in your charge. His father will, of course, do what he can, but poor Arthur has nothing but his directorships; you must be our rock and anchor.”
And then I plucked up courage to ask whether Brackenbury could not do something permanent for our boy. Even a thousand a year. . . It is not as though he couldn’t afford it if Ruth shewed a little good-will, not as though either had done so extravagantly much for their own nephew. Brackenbury did indeed undertake to pay for him at Eton; but, as Will left before any of us expected, they were let off lightly. . .
Brackenbury would only talk of increasing expenses and the burden of taxation.
“I could face my operation with an easier mind,” I said, “if I knew that Will would never want.”
“Well, some one has always pulled him out hitherto,” said Brackenbury. “I suppose some one always will.” I had to rack my brains, but honestly truly the only occasion I could remember on which he had come to our assistance was when Will as a mere boy fell in with some men no better than common swindlers who
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