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 one 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 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 be energetic. He was actually eating his breakfast at half-past eleven, and had already contrived in his mind how he would turn the wrong way as soon as he got into the street, — towards Marylebone Road, by which route Roger would certainly not come. He left the house at ten minutes before twelve, cunningly turned away, dodging round by the first corner, — and just as he had turned it encountered his cousin. Roger, anxious in regard to his errand, with time at his command, had come before the hour appointed and had strolled about, thinking not of Felix but of Felix’s sister. The baronet felt that he had been caught, — caught unfairly, but by no means abandoned all hope of escape. “I was going to your mother’s house on purpose to see you,” said Roger.
“Were you indeed? I am so sorry. I have an engagement out here with a fellow which I must keep. I could meet you at any other time, you know.”
“You can come back for ten minutes,” said Roger, taking him by the arm.
“Well; — not conveniently at this moment.”
“You must manage it. I am here at your mother’s request, and can’t afford to remain in town day after day looking for you. I go down to Carbury this afternoon. Your friend can wait. Come along.” His firmness was too much for Felix, who lacked the courage to shake his cousin off violently, and to go his way. But as he returned he fortified himself with the remembrance of all the money in his pocket, — for he still had his winnings, — remembered too certain sweet words which had passed between him and Marie Melmotte since the ball, and resolved that he would not be sat upon by Roger Carbury. The time was coming, — he might almost say that the time had come, — in which he might defy Roger Carbury. Nevertheless, he dreaded the words which were now to be spoken to him with a craven fear.
“Your mother tells me,” said Roger, “that you still keep hunters.”
“I don’t know what she calls hunters. I have one that I didn’t part with when the others went.”
“You have only one horse?”
“Well; — if you want to be exact, I have a hack as well as the horse I ride.”
“And another up here in town?”
“Who told you that? No; I haven’t. At least there is one staying at some stables which, has been sent for me to look at.”
“Who pays for all these horses?”
“At any rate I shall not ask you to pay for them.”
“No; — you would be afraid to do that. But you have no scruple in asking your mother, though you should force her to come to me or to other friends for assistance. You have squandered every shilling of your own, and now you are ruining her.”
“That isn’t true. I have money of my own.”
“Where did you get it?”
“This is all very well. Roger; but I don’t know that you have any right to ask me these questions. I have money. If I buy a horse I can pay for it. If I keep one or two I can pay for them. Of course I owe a lot of money, but other people owe me money too. I’m all right, and you needn’t frighten yourself.”
“Then why do you beg her last shilling from your mother, and when you have money not pay it back to her?”
“She can have the twenty pounds, if you mean that.”
“I mean that, and