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Updated: June 3, 2025
Ascough greeted him with an inquiring smile. Lord Arranmore nodded and sat down. "You were quite right," he announced. "The tongues of men or of angels wouldn't move her. Never mind. She's going to use the money for charity." "Well, that's something, at any rate," Mr. Ascough remarked.
I cannot advise you I would not dare. But if there is a spark of soul left in the man, such love as yours must fan it into warmth. If you have the courage risk it." Brooks left without seeing Sybil again, and turned northward. In Pall Mall he heard his name called from the steps of one of the great clubs. He looked up and found Lord Arranmore leisurely descending.
The wine, a long silky stream, flowed away from him unstaunched, unregarded. His eyes were fixed upon Lord Arranmore. He leaned forward. "A police-court missionary!" he cried, hoarsely. Lord Arranmore regarded him for a moment in silence. "Yes. As you doubtless surmise, I am your father. Afterwards you may ask me questions."
The girl never flinched. "I have called you nothing," she said, "which you do not deserve. Do you still deny that you were in Canada in Montreal sixteen years ago?" "Most assuredly I do deny it," he answered. Brooks started, and turned suddenly towards Lord Arranmore as though doubtful whether he had heard rightly. This was a year before his father's death. The girl was unmoved.
"Sybil has nine hundred a year," Lady Caroom said, "but it would not be a matter of money at all. I should not allow Sybil to marry any one concerning whose position in the world there was the least mystery. She might marry Lord Kingston of Ross, but never Mr. Kingston Brooks." "Has Mr. Brooks given any special signs of devotion?" Lord Arranmore asked. "Not since they were at Enton.
Lord Arranmore laughed hardly. "Conscience," he repeated. "You ought to know me better, Brooks, than to suppose me possessed of such a thing. No; I have a sense of justice, that is all a sort of weakness for seeing the scales held fairly. Now, don't you think it is reasonable that she should accept this money from me?" "It depends entirely upon how she feels," Brooks answered.
"Lord Arranmore was good enough to ask me," Brooks answered, dubiously, "but I scarcely know whether I ought to accept. I am such a wretched shot." Molyneux laughed. "Well, I couldn't hit a haystack," he said, "so you needn't mind that. Besides, Arranmore isn't keen about his bag, like some chaps. Are these your offices? See you again, then."
Believe me, that all personal charity is a mistake. It is a good deal worse than that. It is a crime." Sybil rose up, and a little unusual flush had stained her cheeks. "I still do not understand you in the least, Lord Arranmore," she said. "It seems to me that you are making paradoxical and ridiculous statements, which only bewilder us. Why is charity a crime?
But you had only been there for a few years. Before then?" "Ay! Before then?" There was a short silence. Then Arranmore, who had been gazing steadily into the fire, looked up. She fancied that his eyes were softer. "Dear friend," he said, "of those days I have nothing to tell even you. But there are more awful things even than moral degeneration.
"I shall always be at your service," Lord Arranmore answered. "And I cannot go," Brooks continued, "without thanking you " "We will take that for granted," Arranmore interrupted. "You know the spirit in which I gave it. It is not, I fear, one of sympathy, but it may at any rate save me from having my carriage windows broken one dark night.
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