Unhappily the grand
scheme was a failure; and the hundred pounds being gone, George applied
again to his brother, reminding him once more of that promise made in
Bloomsbury. But on this occasion Mr. Sheldon plainly told his kinsman
that he could do no more for him.
"You must fight your own battle, George," he said, "as I have fought
mine."
"Thank you, Philip," said the younger brother; "I would rather fight it
any other way."
And then the two men looked at each other, as they were in the habit of
doing sometimes, with a singularly intent gaze.
"You're very close-fisted with Tom Halliday's money," George said
presently. "If I'd asked poor old Tom himself, I'm sure he wouldn't
have refused to lend me two or three hundred."
"Then it's a pity you didn't ask him," Mr. Sheldon answered, with
supreme coolness.
"I should have done so fast enough, if I had thought he was going to
die so suddenly. It was a bad day for me, and for him too, when he came
to Fitzgeorge-street."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Mr. Sheldon sharply.
"You can pretty well guess my meaning, I should think," George answered
in a sulky tone.
"No, I can't; and what's more, I don't mean to try. I'll tell you what
it is, Master George; you've been treating me to a good many hints and
innuendoes lately; and you must know very little of me if you don't know
that I'm the last kind of man to stand that sort of thing from you, or
from any one else.
Pages:
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213