VI
The Laurels,
Putney Heath, S. W.
November 9.My Dear Alice,
I will not send the small sum which you ask me as a brother to afford you, though I am well aware that it would save you very poignant anxiety. My reason for acting thus is that a little annoyance is caused me when I have to disburse even a small sum without the chance of any possible return, and especially when I have to do it to benefit some one who cannot make things uncomfortable for me if I refuse. I have a sort of sentimental feeling about you, because you are my sister, and to that extent my refusal does give me a slight, though a passing sense of irrision. But that will very soon disappear, and when I balance it against the definite sacrifice of a sum of money, however small, I do not hesitate for a moment. Please do not write to me again.
Your affectionate brother,
John Roe.
VII
The Laurels,
Putney Heath, S. W.
November 9.Dear Sir,
I enclose a cheque for £250, my annual subscription to the local War Chest of the Party. I beg you particularly to note that this subscription makes me the creditor of the Party to the extent of over £3000, counting interest at one above bank rate from the first subscription. I have carefully gone into this and there can be no error. I would further have you note that I desire no reward or recognition for my disbursement of this sum beyond the baronetcy of which we spoke the last time I visited you, in the presence of a third party; and I must conclude by assuring you that any lengthy negotiation would be extremely distasteful to me. You need not fear my attitude in the approaching election; I am quite indifferent to parliamentary honours, I will take the chair five times and no more; I am good for one large garden party, three dinners, and a set of fireworks. I will have absolutely nothing to do with the printing, and I am,
Always at your service,
John Roe.
When the Honest Man had perused these letters he decided that they should not be posted in their present form; but upon attempting to amend them he found himself singularly lacking in those phrases which he could usually discover so readily for the purposes of his correspondence.
He sent, therefore, for his secretary, and told him to re-write the letters himself according to his own judgment, which that gentleman did with singular skill and dispatch, maintaining the cheques as drafted and putting every matter in its proper light.
That night the Honest Man, who was sleeping soundly, was more annoyed than ever at the reappearance of the Devil at his bedside in the middle of the night.
"Now," said the Devil, "have I brought you to your senses?"
"No," said the Honest Man, composing himself for sleep as before, "you have not. You should have remembered that I have a secretary."
"Oh, the devil!" said the Devil impatiently, "one cannot be thinking of everything!" And he went out even more noisily than the night before.
In this way the Honest Man saved his soul and at the same time his face, which, if it were the less valuable of the two organs, was none the less of considerable moment to him in this mundane sphere.