‘But you don’t go telling me that he lives on two pounds a week? Everybody knows he doesn’t. Where does the rest come from?’
‘I don’t think I must talk about that. I think very likely jour brother will explain if you ask him seriously. But is it really such a hard thing after all, Harry? I feel so sure that you will only know real happiness when you are earning a livelihood by steady and honourable work. You remember how I used to go and see the people in New Wanley? I shall never forget how happy the best of them were, those who worked their hardest all day and at night came home to rest with their families and friends. And you yourself, how contented you used to be when your time was thoroughly occupied! But I’m sure you feel the truth of this. You have been disappointed; it has made you a little careless. Now work hard for a year and then come and tell me if I wasn’t right about that being the way to happiness. Will you?’
She rose and held her hand to him; the hand to which he should have knelt. But he said nothing; there was an obstacle in his throat. Adela understood his silence and left him.
Richard went to work among his friends, and in a fortnight had found his brother employment of a new kind. It was a place in an ironmonger’s shop in Hoxton; ‘Arry was to serve at the counter and learn the business. For three months he was on trial and would receive no salary.
Two of the three months passed, and all seemed to be going well. Then one day there came to Mutimer a telegram from ‘Arry’s employer; it requested that he would go to the shop as soon as possible. Foreseeing some catastrophe, he hastened to Hoxton. His brother was in custody for stealing money from the till.
The ironmonger was inexorable. ‘Arry passed through the judicial routine and was sentenced to three months of hard labour.
It was in connection with this wretched affair that Richard once more met his mother. He went from the shop to tell her what had happened.
He found her in the kitchen, occupied as he had seen her many, many times, ironing newly washed linen. One of the lodgers happened to come out from the house as he ascended the steps, so he was able to go down without announcing himself. The old woman had a nervous start; the iron stopped in its smooth backward and forward motion; the hand with which she held it trembled. She kept her eyes on Richard’s face, which foretold evil.
‘Mother, I have brought you bad news.’
She pushed the iron aside and stood waiting. Her hard lips grew harder; her deep-set eyes had a stern light. Not much ill could come to pass for which she was not prepared.