A NEIGHBOUR
THOUGH for many years, Michael Betts had lived in loneliness, his life had not always been so lonely. As a young man, he had had his widowed mother to care for, and a brother, some ten years younger than himself, had shared their home. There had been other children who had passed away in infancy. Only these two, the eldest and the youngest, remained, and the mother loved them passionately, if not wisely.
It was perhaps not strange that between brothers so widely parted by years, there should be no very close bond of sympathy. But the distinction between them was more marked than that which mere age would effect. Their characters were wholly different. The disposition of the elder brother had always been serious, his behaviour correct, his words and ways prudent and cautious beyond his years. The bearing of the other afforded a great contrast. Frank from boyhood was distinguished by wild spirits; he was restless and reckless in his ways, bent upon pleasure and regardless of its cost, and disposed to chaff his grave, prudent brother.
The two could not understand each other. Michael, conscious of his own rectitude, was keenly alive to his brother's faults, and disposed to think the very worst of him. He was vexed with his mother when she persistently found excuses for Frank's failings, and reiterated her fond belief that he "meant no harm," and would "come right some day."
Whilst she lived to keep peace in the home, there was no open breach between the brothers. Unhappily, she passed away ere Frank had fully attained to manhood. His mother's death was a grief to Michael. He had loved her truly, in spite of a sense of her incapacity and wrong-headedness on many points, notably on those which concerned her younger son. Sometimes it had almost seemed as if she loved Frank, in spite of all his faults, better than the son whose meritoriousness had ever been apparent.
Yet Michael meant well by his brother when their mother's death left them together. He had promised her when she lay dying that he would be as a father to Frank; and he intended to keep that promise. He would do his duty by Frank; he would care for him and look after his interests as an elder brother should. To be sure, he expected that Frank would respond as he should to his fraternal kindness, and show a fitting sense of what the bond between them entailed upon him. But such an expectation was most vain. Frank was what he had always been.
Shortly after his mother's death, Michael, who had been saving money carefully for years, whilst working diligently and acquiring business experience, was able to take the corner house and open a book-shop on his own account. He counted on Frank's assistance in working it. He thought the business would provide a future for his young brother as well as for himself. But it was a disastrous experiment he was now undertaking. Frank had little inclination to work steadily as his brother's assistant. His careless, irregular ways tried Michael's patience beyond endurance. He reproached his brother bitterly; but his rebukes only elicited insolence and defiance.
Frank left his brother in anger, and found a situation for himself elsewhere. He did not keep it long, however. From idle, he fell into sinful courses. Lower and lower he drifted, till Michael saw him only when he came to beg for relief from the starvation to which his profligacy had reduced him. Michael dreaded his appearance. He could not bear that any of his customers should know that such a disreputable man was his brother.
But he never refused Frank food or a night's lodging, till after one of these brief visitations he missed a valuable classic, and was convinced that his brother had stolen it. Then he vowed that he would do nothing more for Frank. If his brother dared to come near him again, thinking to lay thievish hands on his goods, he would give him in charge. No one could say that he had failed in his duty towards his brother. No, he had kept his promise to his mother as far as it was in his power to keep it. He could do no more. Frank must reap as he had sown.
Michael never had occasion to put his threat into execution. His brother, perhaps, divined too well what he might expect. However that might be, Michael saw his face no more, and was thankful not to see it. As years passed on and he heard no more of Frank, he was able to persuade himself that his brother was dead. And as this conviction deepened within him, it became easier and easier to banish from his mind the thought of his unhappy brother.