The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope (best fiction novels of all time .TXT) 📕

itself. I understand the thing, and know that with all I have in the world I could not do it myself.”

“You are so different.”

“I am older of course⁠—very much older. But he is not so young that he should not begin to comprehend. Has he any money beyond what you give him?”

Then Lady Carbury revealed certain suspicions which she had begun to entertain during the last day or two. “I think he has been playing.”

“That is the way to lose money⁠—not to get it,” said Roger.

“I suppose somebody wins⁠—sometimes.”

“They who win are the sharpers. They who lose are the dupes. I would sooner that he were a fool than a knave.”

“O Roger, you are so severe!”

“You say he plays. How would he pay, were he to lose?”

“I know nothing about it. I don’t even know that he does play; but I have reason to think that during the last week he has had money at his command. Indeed I have seen it. He comes home at all manner of hours and sleeps late. Yesterday I went into his room about ten and did not wake him. There were notes and gold lying on his table;⁠—ever so much.”

“Why did you not take them?”

“What; rob my own boy?”

“When you tell me that you are absolutely in want of money to pay your own bills, and that he has not hesitated to take yours from you! Why does he not repay you what he has borrowed?”

“Ah, indeed;⁠—why not? He ought to if he has it. And there were papers there;⁠—I.O.U.s, signed by other men.”

“You looked at them.”

“I saw as much as that. It is not that I am curious, but one does feel about one’s own son. I think he has bought another horse. A groom came here and said something about it to the servants.”

“Oh dear;⁠—oh dear!”

“If you could only induce him to stop the gambling! Of course it is very bad whether he wins or loses⁠—though I am sure that Felix would do nothing unfair. Nobody ever said that of him. If he has won money, it would be a great comfort if he would let me have some of it⁠—for, to tell the truth, I hardly know how to turn. I am sure nobody can say that I spend it on myself.”

Then Roger again repeated his advice. There could be no use in attempting to keep up the present kind of life in Welbeck Street. Welbeck Street might be very well without a penniless spendthrift such as Sir Felix, but must be ruinous under the present conditions. If Lady Carbury felt, as no doubt she did feel, bound to afford a home to her ruined son in spite of all his wickedness and folly, that home should be found far away from London. If he chose to remain in London, let him do so on his own resources. The young man should make up his mind to do something for himself. A career might possibly be opened for him in India. “If he be a man he would sooner break stones than live on you,” said Roger. Yes, he would see his cousin tomorrow and speak to him;⁠—that is if he could possibly find him. “Young men who gamble all night, and hunt all day are not easily found.” But he would come at twelve as Felix generally breakfasted at that hour. Then he gave an assurance to Lady Carbury which to her was not the least comfortable part of the interview. In the event of her son not giving her the money which she at once required he, Roger, would lend her a hundred pounds till her half year’s income should be due. After that his voice changed altogether, as he asked a question on another subject, “Can I see Henrietta tomorrow?”

“Certainly;⁠—why not? She is at home now, I think.”

“I will wait till tomorrow⁠—when I call to see Felix. I should like her to know that I am coming. Paul Montague was in town the other day. He was here, I suppose?”

“Yes;⁠—he called.”

“Was that all you saw of him?”

“He was at the Melmottes’ ball. Felix got a card for him;⁠—and we were there. Has he gone down to Carbury?”

“No;⁠—not to Carbury. I think he had some business about his partners at Liverpool. There is another case of a young man without anything to do. Not that Paul is at all like Sir Felix.” This he was induced to say by the spirit of honesty which was always strong within him.

“Don’t be too hard upon poor Felix,” said Lady Carbury. Roger, as he took his leave, thought that it would be impossible to be too hard upon Sir Felix Carbury.

The next morning Lady Carbury was in her son’s bedroom before he was up, and with incredible weakness told him that his cousin Roger was coming to lecture him. “What the Devil’s the use of it?” said Felix from beneath the bedclothes.

“If you speak to me in that way, Felix, I must leave the room.”

“But what is the use of his coming to me? I know what he has got to say just as if it were said. It’s all very well preaching sermons to good people, but nothing ever was got by preaching to people who ain’t good.”

“Why shouldn’t you be good?”

“I shall do very well, mother, if that fellow will leave me alone. I can play my hand better than he can play it for me. If you’ll go now I’ll get up.” She had intended to ask him for some of the money which she believed he still possessed, but her courage failed her. If she asked for his money, and took it, she would in some fashion recognise and tacitly approve his gambling. It was not yet eleven, and it was early for him to leave his bed; but he had resolved that he would get out of the house before that horrible bore should be upon him with his sermon. To do this he must