It is grievous, when ill-feeling arises between brothers, that that ill-feeling should be cherished instead of being . But such was the case with Anthony and Herbert Dare. By the time the sunny month of May came in, matters had grown to such a height between them, that Mr. Dare found himself compelled to . It was beginning to make things in the house uncomfortable. They would meet at meals, and not only from speaking to each other, but take every possible opportunity of showing and marked discourtesy. No positive outbreak between them had as yet taken place in the presence of the family: but it was only smouldering, and might be daily looked for.
Mr. Dare, so far as the original cause went, blamed his son. Anthony had been in fault. It was a dishonourable, ungenerous, unmanly act, to draw his brother into trouble, and to do it and deceitfully. At the present stage of the affair, Mr. Dare saw occasion to blame Herbert more than Anthony. "It is you who keep up the ball, Herbert," he said to him. "If you would suffer the matter to die away, Anthony would do so." "Of course he would," Herbert replied. "He has served his turn, and would be glad that it should end there."
It was in vain that Mr. Dare talked to them. A dozen times did he recommend them to "shake hands and make it up." Neither appeared inclined to take the advice. Anthony was . He would have been content to let the affair drop quietly into oblivion: perhaps, as Herbert said, had been glad that it should so drop; but, make the slightest move towards it, he would not. Herbert openly said that he'd not shake hands. If Anthony wanted ever to shake hands with him again, let him pay up.
There lay the ; "paying up." The bills, not paid, were a terrible thorn in the side of Herbert Dare. He was responsible, and he knew not one hour from another but he might be arrested on them. To matters between his sons, Mr. Dare would willingly have taken the charge of payment upon himself, but he had not the money to do it with. In point of fact, Mr. Dare was growing seriously embarrassed on his own score. He had had a great deal of trouble with his sons, with Anthony in particular, and he had grown sick and tired of them out of difficulties. Still, he would have relieved Herbert of this one nightmare, had it been in his power. Herbert had been into it, without any advantage to himself; therefore Mr. Dare had the will, could he have managed it, to help him out. He told Herbert that he would see what he could do after a while. The promise did not relieve Herbert of present fears; neither did it restore peace between the malcontents. Had Herbert been relieved of that particular , others would have remained to him; but that fact did not in the least his soreness, as to the point in question.
It was an intensely hot day; far hotter than is usual at the season; and the afternoon sun streamed full on the windows of Pomeranian , suggesting thoughts of July, instead of May. A gay party—at any rate, a party dressed in gay —were crossing the hall to enter a carriage that waited at the door. Mr. Dare, Mrs. Dare, and Adelaide. Mrs. Dare had always been given to gay attire, and her daughters had inherited her taste. They were going to dine at a friend's house, a few miles' distance from Helstonleigh. The invitation was for seven o'clock. It was now striking six, the dinner-hour at Mr. Dare's.
Minny, looking half melted, had perched herself upon the end of the balustrades to watch the departure.
"You'll fall, child," said Mr. Dare.
Minny laughed, and said there was no danger of her falling. She wondered what her father would think if he saw her sometimes at her gymnastics on the balustrades, taking a slide from the top to the bottom. She generally that he should not see her; or mademoiselle either. Mademoiselle had caught sight of the performance once, and had given her a whole French to learn by way of punishment.
"Are we to have strawberries for dinner, mamma?" asked Minny.
"You will have what I have thought proper to order," replied Mrs. Dare rather sharply. She was feeling hot and cross. Something had put her out while .
"I think you might wait for strawberries until they are ripe in our own garden; not buy them regardless of cost," interposed Mr. Dare, speaking for the general benefit, but not to any one in particular.
Minny dropped the subject. "Your dress is turned up, Adelaide," said she.
Adelaide looked languidly behind her, and a maid, who had followed them down, advanced and put right the dress: a handsome dress of pink silk, with its own richness. At that moment Anthony entered the hall. He had just come home to dinner, and looked in a very bad humour.
"How late you'll be!" he cried.
"Not at all. We shall drive there in an hour."
They swept out at the door, Mrs. Dare and Adelaide. Mr. Dare was about to follow them when a sudden thought appeared to strike him, and he turned back and addressed Anthony.
"You young men take care that you don't get quarrelling with each other. Do you hear, Anthony?"
"I hear," ungraciously replied Anthony, not turning to speak, but continuing his way up to his dressing-room. He probably regarded the injunction with contempt, for it was too much in Anthony Dare's nature so to regard all advice, of whatever kind. Nevertheless it had been well that he had given to it. It had been well that that last word to his father had been one of affection!
Dinner was served. Anthony, in the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Dare, took the head. Rosa, with a show of great parade and ceremony, assumed the seat opposite to him and said she should be mistress. Minny responded that Rosa was not going to be mistress over her, and the governess desired Miss Rosa not to talk so loudly. Rather derogatory checks, these, to the dignity of a "mistress."
Herbert was not at table. Irregular as the young Dares were in many of their habits, they were generally home to dinner. Minny wondered aloud where Herbert was. Anthony replied that he was "."
"Skulking!" echoed Minny.
"Yes, skulking," angrily repeated Anthony. "He left the office at three o'clock, and has never been near it since. And the governor left at four!" he added, in a tone that seemed to say he considered that also a grievance.
"Where did Herbert go to?" asked Rosa.
"I don't know," responded Anthony. "I only know that I had a double share of work to do."
Anthony Dare was no friend to work. And having had to do a little more than he would have done had Herbert remained at his post, had his temper.
"Why should Monsieur Herbert go away and leave you his work to do?" inquired the governess, lifting her eyes from her plate to Anthony.
"I shall take care to ask him why," returned Anthony.
"It is not fair that he should," continued mademoiselle. "I would not have done it for him, Monsieur Anthony."
"Neither should I, had I not been obliged," said Anthony, not in the least relaxing from his ill-humour, either in looks or tone. "It was work that had to be done before post-time, and one of our clerks is away on business to-day."
Dinner proceeded to its close. Joseph hesitated, to remove the cloth. "Is it to be left for Mr. Herbert?" he asked.
"No!" imperiously answered Anthony. "If he cannot come in for dinner, dinner shall not be kept for him."
"Cook is keeping the things by the fire, sir."
"Then tell her to save herself the trouble."
So the cloth was removed, and dessert put on. To Minny's inexpressible disappointment it turned out that there were no strawberries. This put her into an ill-humour, and she left the table and the room, declaring she would not touch anything else. Mademoiselle Varsini called her back, and ordered her to her seat; she would not permit so great a of discipline. Cyril and George, who were not under mademoiselle's control, down a glass of wine, and hastened out to keep an engagement. It was a very innocent one; a cricket match had been organized for the evening, by some of the old college boys; and Cyril and George were amongst the players. It has never been mentioned that Mr. Ashley, in his strict sense of justice, had allowed Cyril the privilege of spending his evenings at home five nights in the week, as he did to William Halliburton.
The rest remained at table. Minny, per force; Rosa, to take an quantity of oranges; Mademoiselle Varsini, because it was the custom to remain. But mademoiselle soon rose and withdrew with her pupils; Anthony was not showing himself a particularly companion. He had not touched any dessert; but seemed to be drinking a good deal of wine.
As they were going out of the room, Herbert in. "Now then, take care!" cried he, for Minny, paying little attention to her movements, had gone full at him.
"Oh! Herbert, can't you see?" cried she, dolefully rubbing her head. "What made you so late? Dinner's gone away."
"It can be brought in again," replied Herbert carelessly. "Comme il est chaud! n'est-ce pas, mademoiselle?"
This last was addressed to the governess. Rosa screamed with laughter at his bad French, and mademoiselle smiled. "You get on in French as you do in Italian, Monsieur Herbert," cried she. "And that is what you call—backward."
Herbert laughed good-humouredly. He did not know what particular mistake he had made; truth to say, he did not care. They withdrew, and he rang the bell for his dinner.
"Mind, Herbert," cried Minny, putting in her head again at the door, "papa said you were not to quarrel."
Better, perhaps, that she had not said it! Who can tell?
The brothers remained alone. Anthony sullen, and, as yet, silent. He appeared to have emptied the port wine decanter, and to be beginning upon the sherry! Herbert strolled past him; in his manner—some might have said contempt—and stood just outside the window, whistling.
You have not forgotten that this dining-room window opened to the ground. The apartment was long and somewhat narrow, the window large and high, and opening in the centre, after the manner of a French one. The door was at one end of the room; the window at the oth............