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"Let me, being likewise a younger son, take a leaf out of Uncle Brian's book, and try to labour, as he once did, in my own county, with the honour of my own race about me." "And what did he effect? Was he not looked down upon, humiliated, cheated?
He proudly exhibited the bizarre collection of scraps, initialed in token of debt and reinitialed in token of payment. "Brian I I " "Go ahead, old boy," said Brian, his eyes tender. "I can see you've got a lot on your mind." "I paid 'em every one!" "So I see." "And never again will you have to bookkeep lies. I'm that truthful now Sid worries a bit!" Brian's amazed eyes twinkled.
In a way Brian realizes that, if it were not for him, it would never have been thought of. In a way. But it is his way. He doesn't torture himself, as I probably should in his place, by thinking: "All these immense sums of money being spent as an excuse to provide for me in life! Ought I to let it be done? Ought I to accept?" Brian's way is not that.
I'm sure you weren't, or you'd have had nothing to worry about when Dierdre and I turned up," he faced me down. "No, we weren't engaged," I admitted. "I was just as much of a fraud as you meant Dierdre to be with Father and Mother Beckett. I've no excuse except that it was for Brian's sake. But that's no excuse really, and Brian would despise me if he knew." "There you are!"
Dino looked at him long and meditatively. Brian's face expressed some surprise, but perfect tranquility of mind. He had seated himself at Dino's bed-side, and was leaning his chin upon his hand and his elbow upon his crossed knees. "Why did you make Hugo Luttrell your messenger? Why not come to meet me yourself as Padre Cristoforo begged you to do?" Brian shook his head.
Lord Farintosh is wealthy, handsome; has been a little wild, I hear; is not such a husband as I would choose for my darlings, but poor Brian's family have been educated to love the world; and Ethel no doubt is flattered by the prospects before her. I have heard that some one else was a little epris in that quarter. How does Clive bear the news, my dear Colonel?"
Stretton's face, and had changed it very greatly in spite of all these things he had noticed, and been startled by, the expression of a pair of grave, brown eyes graver and sadder than Brian's eyes used to be, but full of the tenderness and the sweetness that Hugo had never seen in the face of any other man. Full, also, of recognition; there was the rub.
She had taken Brian's hand and laid it upon Hugo's, and for a moment the three hands rested together in one strangely loving clasp. And then Hugo whispered, "Pray for me if you like: I I dare not pray." And, forgetful of any human presence but that of this sick, sinful soul about to come before its Maker, Angela prayed aloud. He died in the early dawn, with his hand still clasped in hers.
But it's pretty hard on Brian." It was the thing, as Garry knew, that taxed Brian's patience to the utmost, plunged him into grotesque dilemmas and kept him keyed to an abnormal alertness of memory. Always his sense of loyalty revolted at the notion of denying any tale that Kenny told. Now Kenny's hurt stare left Brian unrepentant. He lost his temper utterly.
The voice that came back fairly bristled with virtue and approval. "You filled his head with notions about service, didn't you, Whitaker?" demanded Kenny indignantly. "What's your idea of service anyway that now when Brian's got a chance to be of absolute service to a kid who needs him, you kick up your hind-heels and howl your head off. Sort of a boomerang, isn't it?
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