There was silence for a time. Then Colonel Eldridge said: "You're kind and good about it, John. I knew you would be, when I sent for you. And you've been kind all along. I know now that my son—cheated—yours out of a large sum of money, besides pushing him into something that he'd never have taken up, if he had been left to himself. I know Horsham well enough to say that; and my son was an older man, who ought to have looked after him—coming into the Regiment as a boy—the son of one of my oldest friends. It was very bad. I can't quite bring my mind to it. But the first thing to be done is to arrange for the payment—"
Lord Crowborough had tried to break in once or twice, and now did so decisively. "My dear Edmund, the money was paid. William knew, and he insisted on doing it. I couldn't refuse. Whatever I might have done, if I'd been left to myself, I don't deserve the credit of that. There's nothing more to be done there."
"William paid, you say?"
"Yes. Fortunately I told him all about it—you knew that, didn't you? It was when I was still very angry, and had let out to you what I did, that you took such exception to. I hope I should have done afterwards what I did do, and draw back from what I had said, so as to keep the knowledge of it from you. But it was William who showed me that it was the right thing to do, and almost directly afterwards the poor boy was killed, and then I can tell you I was very glad that I hadn't pressed it with you. William saw it at once. He made me take a cheque for the—for the loss, then and there, and promise never to mention it again, even to him. I've wished lately...."
He broke off. "You've wished lately that I'd known that," said Colonel Eldridge quietly. "So do I. One doesn't quarrel with men who treat one like that."
Lord Crowborough didn't quite understand him. "I don't think you need consider it as an extra obligation," he said. "I know it was over and done with, for William, when he wrote his cheque, and made me promise to say nothing about it. I've talked to him since, as you know, and he was extremely irritated against you—no sense in pretending he wasn't—but that never came up. I'm sure he's never grudged it, whatever has happened since."
"I wasn't thinking about the money. I've thought too much about William's money, and talked too much about it, to you among others. His money made it easy for him, perhaps, to pay what had to be paid; but it had nothing to do with his taking pains to keep me from knowledge of my son's disgrace."
Lord Crowborough brightened. "Oh, I'm so glad you've said that, Edmund," he said. "You've both misunderstood each other, and you've drifted apart. My dear fellow, if this brings you together again— Oh, I shall be so glad of that."
Again there was silence for a time. Then Colonel Eldridge said: "Horsham knows, I suppose. He and this—this woman's son joined together, didn't they? It was plain to all of them."
Lord Crowborough had forgotten for the moment what a shock the certain knowledge of his son's disgrace must have been to him, and set himself to remove the effects of it from his mind. Colonel Eldridge accepted what he said, listlessly, but it was evident that no words could heal the wound that had been dealt him. Only time could do that. Even the knowledge of his brother's action, which had changed the current of his thoughts for a time seemed to have brought him only temporary relief. He seemed hardly interested in it now. There was an air of hopeless depression on him that Lord Crowborough was quite unable to remove.