Читать книгу The Way We Live Now - Anthony Trollope - Страница 20

"There’s the £20." Click to ENLARGE

"Not quite. Do you purpose that your mother should keep you and clothe you for the rest of your life?"

"I hope to be able to keep her before long, and to do it much better than it has ever been done before. The truth is, Roger, you know nothing about it. If you'll leave me to myself, you'll find that I shall do very well."

"I don't know any young man who ever did worse, or one who had less moral conception of what is right and wrong."

"Very well. That's your idea. I differ from you. People can't all think alike, you know. Now, if you please, I'll go."

Roger felt that he hadn't half said what he had to say, but he hardly knew how to get it said. And of what use could it be to talk to a young man who was altogether callous and without feeling? The remedy for the evil ought to be found in the mother's conduct rather than the son's. She, were she not foolishly weak, would make up her mind to divide herself utterly from her son, at any rate for a while, and to leave him to suffer utter penury. That would bring him round. And then when the agony of want had tamed him, he would be content to take bread and meat from her hand and would be humble. At present he had money in his pocket, and would eat and drink of the best, and be free from inconvenience for the moment. While this prosperity remained it would be impossible to touch him. "You will ruin your sister, and break your mother's heart," said Roger, firing a last harmless shot after the young reprobate.

When Lady Carbury came into the room, which she did as soon as the front door was closed behind her son, she seemed to think that a great success had been achieved because the £20 had been recovered. "I knew he would give it me back, if he had it," she said.

"Why did he not bring it to you of his own accord?"

"I suppose he did not like to talk about it. Has he said that he got it by—playing?"

"No—he did not speak a word of truth while he was here. You may take it for granted that he did get it by gambling. How else should he have it? And you may take it for granted also that he will lose all that he has got. He talked in the wildest way—saying that he would soon have a home for you and Hetta."

"Did he;—dear boy!"

"Had he any meaning?"

"Oh; yes. And it is quite on the cards that it should be so. You have heard of Miss Melmotte."

"I have heard of the great French swindler who has come over here, and who is buying his way into society."

"Everybody visits them now, Roger."

"More shame for everybody. Who knows anything about him—except that he left Paris with the reputation of a specially prosperous rogue? But what of him?"

"Some people think that Felix will marry his only child. Felix is handsome; isn't he? What young man is there nearly so handsome? They say she'll have half a million of money."

"That's his game;—is it?"

"Don't you think he is right?"

"No; I think he's wrong. But we shall hardly agree with each other about that. Can I see Henrietta for a few minutes?"