But by putting up at the Royal Reggie did not long evade the discussion he
foresaw might be unpleasant; for on the very next morning, before he had
arisen from his bed he received a message from his brother asking for his
presence at a certain hour at the Brewery.
"I'm in for it now," he said to himself when he got the message; but he
did not dream of disregarding it.
He presented himself, therefore, punctually enough, in the pleasant
private room which looked out upon the river flowing black and oily so far
beneath; where the portrait of the father of the two men hung above Sir
Francis's head as he stood upon the hearthrug.
"Oh, there you are, Reggie! Good-morning."
"Here I am. Sharp as a new pin, and bright as a button."
"I hope I have not upset any plans for the day by sending for you;
but--You have not been overworking yourself of late, have you?"
"Thank you, no," Reggie said, choosing to ignore the sarcasm, if any were
intended.
"You're looking very nice, and fit, I'm sure. That brown velvet coat is
the latest, I suppose? Looks a little as if you were thinking of giving up
Beer for the Arts, eh? I've been wondering if you'd like to travel for a
year?"
Reggie sat down and stared at his brother, with a perplexed vacuity of
eye.
Pages:
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252