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'He is my brother too, and he isn't cross; and I love him, and will keep his secret. Between this flat defiance of his authority, and his scruple about interfering with the child's sense of honour, Felix was in no slight perplexity even as to this interview with his little sister. His disclaimer came first. 'I ask about no one's secret, he said, 'but, Angel, I must have you understand this.
"No, I have not," was Gordon's quick reply. "I admit I am lacking on that side of my nature. But is that the most important thing for a man to possess?" He sprang to his feet and strode about as he went on pouring out his arguments with emphatic, forceful manner. Dr. Annister watched him, wondering at his apparent size. For he looked a considerably larger man than did Felix Brand.
Another week slipped away, and Felix was meditating his escape, when one afternoon a deputation of ten spearmen arrived from a distant tribe, who had nominated him their king, and sent their principal men to convey the intelligence.
Clement shut the door, and Felix hastened down among the dancing exulting little ones. 'I thought you were at Rome! he said, as the hands met in an eager grasp. 'I was there on Christmas Day; but Dr. White's appointment is settled, and he wants me to go out with him in June. My brother is gone on to London, and I must join him there on Saturday.
Felix, the lad mentioned in the beginning of this chapter, was scarcely to be called one, upon account of the mental imbecility that confined his usefulness to such simple duties as running little errands from room to room about the house. So Mr. Brudenell rode off to the post office, and Ishmael walked off to the cottage occupied by Jim Morris. An ancient man, hoary gray with eld. Dante.
"I'm vastly your debtor for the information it will stand me in stead with the next author who comes my way. But, in that case, your friend Mr. Felix Wildmay will be, as it were, a sort of Manx cat?" was her smiling deduction. "Yes, if you like, in that particular, a sort of Manx cat," acquiesced Peter, with a laugh. The Duchessa laughed too; and then there was a little pause.
'I suppose, said Felix quaintly, 'the world would rather miss its axis, and yet that does not move. 'Yes, it does, said Cherry, 'it wobbles. I suppose Wilmet says rotates, just about as much as I am going to do now I have got back into my own dear sphere again. 'Devouring flames resistless glow, And blazing rafters downward go, And never halloo, "Heads below!"
"Tell them both," said Felix greedily, "but tell the ghost one first." "I don't know." The Story Girl looked dubious. "That sort of story ought to be told in the twilight among the shadows. Then it would frighten the souls out of your bodies." We thought it might be more agreeable not to have the souls frightened out of our bodies, and we voted for the Family Ghost.
Everything living feels it, and everything lives. It may be Christmas, it may be only To-morrow, but equally it may be the End of the World. Something is coming into the heart something satisfying. It is the eternal beginning. It is the dawn. Long after the children had retired to bed Uncle Felix sat up alone in the big house thinking.
It was not until he saw that Mooch was on the point of arranging the publication at his own expense with another firm that he took the initiative out of vanity. And on another occasion, when things were very serious and Olivier was ill and they had no money, Mooch thought of going to Felix Weil, the rich archeologist, who lived in the same house.
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